Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jisung was walking (almost running) through the hallway, Bang Chan closely behind him. 

“Where are we going?” the older asked. “What is it that you wanna show me so desperately?”

“Hurry, hyung ! Or they might leave.” Jisung urged. “You need to hear her voice!” 

“Oh my god,” Chan stopped in his tracks. “Han Jisung, is this the girl you’ve been basically stalking around the company?” 

“Yes!” he replied almost immediately “Wait-No, I wasn’t stalking!” He corrected himself. Chan narrowed his eyes and motioned for him to keep going. “I just wanted to hear more of her. Now if you would please hurry!” Jisung was tugging on his hoodie sleeve, when Chan didn’t move immediately he did that thing with his eyes and the pout that no one in the group could resist. “ Hyung , please, I have a schedule in 45 minutes and it’s far from here!” 

Chan sighed. “Fine! But just this one time and you’ll have to stop following this girl and asking about her. Okay?”

“Pinky promise” Jisung nodded and kept walking. 

Chan looked around, it’s been awhile since he had been in the basement practice rooms. In his trainee days, he remembered the lower-level practice rooms were for when you couldn’t book a better one… or when trainees wanted to sneak off and make out. The staff didn’t bother to check these rooms because no one wanted to be down there, most of the aircon didn’t work, it smelled musty and had no bathrooms nearby.

“I forgot this place looked like a backroom…” Chan muttered under his breath. Jisung squinted at him. “What? It’s true!” He shrugged. “What is this girl doing here anyways? Why is she not-” Then he heard it. 

Everyone says I look happy

When it feels right

I know that you're wrong for me

Gonna wish we never met on the day I leave

I brought you down to your knees

'Cause they say that misery loves company

It's not your fault I ruin everything

And it's not your fault I can't be what you need

Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me

I'm everything they said I would be

Her voice was strong and velvety, brimming with emotion—and power. Chan had to stop and really listen. It was as if his brain had been excavated, digging out all his favorite characteristics in a female performer and presenting them to him in the same person.

“Hyung,” Jisung stood near the door, watching her. Chan had expected her to be sitting or just standing while hitting those notes—but he was wrong. She was doing a split on the floor while her arm reached her foot. So she had that kind of control over her voice, he thought. “See? I told you!”

“I know you told me, Ji” Chan started “And I hear it, she’s amazing. But she’s probably already being considered for the next girl group. And this is risky, we need to discuss this.”

“She’s not. She hasn’t been considered for anything because of her age” Jisung argued. “You said you wanted to try something new and different. This is new and different. Hyung , listen, you always want to take risks when it comes to music. Why is this any different from what we’ve done before?”

Chan sighed. “Because we’d be breaking a lot of rules, dude. It’s not like I can just go to the managers and be like ‘Hey, we want to do this!’ . We need to discuss it with everyone, not only division 1, I mean the rest of the group, managers, staff. It's not that simple, Jisung and I-”

“Can I help you?” The door swung open abruptly, cutting Chan off. She was staring at them confused. 

“Yes-” 

“No-” 

They answered at the same time. 

She furrowed her eyebrows and Chan felt something. Embarrassment maybe? What was the leader of Stray Kids doing spying on a trainee? He could already hear the rumors. Damn Jisung . 

“I’m sorry we interrupted your practice,” Chan quickly said. “We were just walking around and heard you sing but we’ll leave now. I’m sorry, please continue practicing.” Chan excused them and tried to drag Jisung back to where they came from. 

“Okay,” she nodded. “Guess I’ll just ask Han next time I catch him watching me practice” She chuckled, and Chan suddenly wanted to bury himself. 

“Mia—noona ,” Jisung called as he followed her into the practice room.

“Noona?” Chan muttered. 

“I’m older than you,” Mia said with a shrug. “Yes, Han?” she added, looking at him sweetly.

“I’m sorry that we interrupted your practice like this but I needed Chan hyung to listen to you singing!” Jisung explained.“Your voice is amazing and I need it.” Mia raised an eyebrow. Chan looked at the floor, already cringing. “Did that sound weird?” he asked his leader. Chan nodded and mouthed, Obviously . “Okay, sorry. Let me explain.” 

Chan thought about stepping in, but watching Jisung unravel his thoughts out loud was far too entertaining. He stayed quiet and when the younger member looked at him he just gestured for him to continue. 

“I heard you sing once—you were in class or something. I really liked it. It was different from the other girls with you.” Jisung smiled and Mia smiled back, expression softening at the boy’s nice words. “We’re kind of in a slump right now… as a group. That’s why we need you. Your voice. We want to do something different.”

When Mia didn’t respond immediately, he continued talking. “So what do you say?” Jisung looked so excited, Chan was sure he’d had more than two coffees that morning.

Mia paused for a second, then shrugged. “Sure.”

“Really?” They asked at the same time. 

“Yeah, why not?” Mia chuckled. “Doing demos for Stray Kids? That’s really exciting for a trainee.”

 “Demos?” Jisung repeated, horrified. “Oh no…” Chan had to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Or back up singing?” This time she looked at Chan for clarification. 

“He’s inviting you to be part of the group,” Chan finally explained. “The ninth member of Stray Kids.” Jisung nodded, practically vibrating.  

Mia started laughing. Not a polite giggle or a little smile… she actually laughed, clutching her stomach and bending slightly forward. Jisung blinked in surprise, and Chan tilted his head, exchanging a confused look with the younger boy.

“Sorry—sorry,” Mia said between breaths, waving her hand. “It’s just… is this a joke? Or like… a SKZ Code thing? Are the cameras about to pop out?”

“No!” Jisung immediately denied, his eyes wide. “No, no cameras. This isn’t a joke!”

Chan stepped in. “It’s not a joke,” he said calmly. “Jisung meant what he said. He’s been thinking about what your voice could do for us.” She raised an eyebrow again, but this time she didn’t look amused. Just… surprised.

“What he wants,” Chan continued, “is for you to be part of something new. We’ve been stuck, a little. Not creatively, exactly but… it’s like we’re missing a spark. And hearing you sing, that made us think.” Chan paused for a second. His own words were clicking into place in his head as he spoke them. He hadn’t planned to say this, but now that he had…

“What if,” he said slowly, “we could create a new sound? A co-ed group. Stray Kids, but… with a twist. A female voice to challenge what we’ve been doing. Harmonies we haven’t tried, concepts we haven’t touched. Imagine the storytelling we could do if—”

“I’m sorry,” Mia cut in gently, her smile turning bittersweet. “Really. I’m flattered. That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve heard since I became a trainee. But…” She took a breath. “This probably wouldn’t be allowed by the company,” she said. “And honestly… I don’t want to get my hopes up again. I’ve been here a long time. I’m probably already too old to debut, but it’s okay. My time will come… or maybe it won’t.”

She shrugged again, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Jisung looked crushed.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to mess with you,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t play with someone’s feelings like that. Especially not about something like this. I meant every word.”

Chan watched her carefully. “How old are you, Mia?”

“’97 line,” she said. “April.”

Chan smiled. “It’s never too late.”

Jisung perked up. “Exactly! Even if you don’t wanna be in the group, could I—uh—could I get your number?” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling shily. “I just think your voice is amazing and… I’d really love to work with you. On demos, or literally anything.”

Mia laughed again—softer this time. “Alright,” she said, extending her hand so Jisung could give her his phone. “Since you think so highly of me, Han.”

She handed back his phone, and Jisung looked like he’d just won the lottery.

“Thank you,” he said. “Really. And you can call me Jisung.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Jisung.”

They said their goodbyes, and Jisung and Chan stepped out of the practice room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Jisung let out a groan and pouted up at Chan.

“No.”

“What?” Jisung whined.

“Stop making that face,” Chan said, shaking his head. “She said no. There’s nothing we can do.”

“But maybe I can convince her—”

“Jisung,” Chan sighed. “How do you even know she hasn’t been considered for any girl groups?”

Jisung hesitated. “That’s just… what I heard.”

Chan narrowed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t read her trainee file.”

“Okay, I didn’t read her file,” Jisung said, looking too innocent.

“Really?”

“Nope. I’ve read all your files, actually.”

Chan groaned. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Chapter Text

The dorm was quiet when Mia got back. Maybe too quiet. 

She assumed the rest of her roommates were already in bed, even though it was barely past 10pm. She slipped off her shoes and dropped her back on the couch, careful not to make any noise. The lights were off except for the hallway and the kitchen, someone had left a half-eaten banana on the counter again. Mia rolled her eyes and threw it in the trash.

She was the oldest in the dorm, and some nights, that felt like a full time job. Twenty-four, sharing space with girls as young as sixteen. The drama, the tears, the passive-aggressive messes was an everyday thing.

Mia made her way to the fridge and opened it slowly, the plastic container she’d labeled with her name was gone. Again. Mia stared at the empty shelf, then sighed and closed the door. Her fingers moved quickly over the dorm group chat:

Mia: Hey, did anyone eat the leftovers I left in the fridge this morning?

She watched the read receipts pop up one by one, but no replies came. Of course. She didn’t want to start anything. Not tonight. She could pull rank if she wanted. Most of the girls listened when she spoke up, but she was tired. Tired of being the dorm’s “ unnie ” by default. Tired of walking on eggshells because of the age gap and the language barrier. When she tried to be firm, some girls would pout and say “ Unnie , you’re supposed to take care of us.” Like she’d signed up to be their mom. 

Most days, she didn’t mind cooking or helping out. But some nights she wished she could just be Mia. Not the oldest. Not a foreigner. Just another trainee trying to survive. 

Mia set her phone on the counter. Her stomach growled in protest and she grabbed a pack of instant ramen from the cupboard instead. She really just wanted this day to end.

While the noodles soaked, she picked up her phone again and tapped her mom’s contact name. After a few rings, the screen lit up with her face, tired eyes behind her smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” her mom said in korean. Just hearing her voice eased something in Mia’s chest.  “You’re calling late.”

“It’s not that late here,” Mia replied, switching to english. “And I figured it’s morning over there. I wanted to catch you before work.”

Her mom squinted at the screen. “You look tired. Are you eating enough? I swear the last time you called I couldn’t see your collarbones.”

Mia rolled her eyes, trying to laugh it off. “Mum, I’m fine. I’m eating.” She tilted the camera to show the bowl of ramen. “See?”

Her mom made a face. “That’s not food, Mia. That’s sodium and sorrow.”

Mia let out a soft laugh. “Better than nothing. How’s halmeoni ?” She asked, changing the subject. 

“She’s good, misses you. I told her you’d call soon.” Mia nodded, chewing her bottom lip. Her mom adjusted the camera slightly and added, “How’s training? How’s your ankle?”

“It’s okay. Still more but it’s manageable.” She hesitated. “Training’s… fine. Just tiring.”

Her mom didn’t buy it. She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

“I’m just exhausted, that’s all,” Mia said, waving it off. “Actually… Something happened today. It was kind of weird.”

Her mom’s voice softened. “Weird how?”

“Two of the Stray Kids guys heard me singing. Kind of interrupted my practice.” Mia said, trying to sound casual. “Han Jisung and Bang Chan.” She said their names like her mom would recognize them, which she didn’t but nodded anyway.

Her mom raised her eyebrows. “That’s good, right?”

Mia shrugged. “Sort of. Jisung was super excited. And Chan said something about creating a new sound. Talked about co-ed concepts.” She paused. “They asked me to be a part of something.”

Her mom tilted her head. “Like what?”

“They asked me to be part of Stray Kids.” She hesitated, then added quickly, “But I said no.”

There was a moment of silence before her mom replied, “You said no?”

Mia gave her a look. “What do you mean you said no?” she repeated in a mock tone.

Her mom raised a brow. “Well… why didn’t you at least give it a try? Even if not as a member, you could help with harmonies, or back-up vocals. That’s exposure. You need exposure.”

Mia lowered her eyes to her bowl, suddenly not that hungry. “It’s not that simple, Mum. You know how the company works. They don’t do co-ed groups. Just talking  about it probably breaks ten rules.” Her voice dropped. “I just… I don’t want to get my hopes up again.”

Her mom didn’t say anything for a moment. Then came the words Mia had been dreading. “Maybe it’s time to come home.”

Mia blinked. “What?”

“You’ve worked so hard, honey. And I’m not saying you’re not good. You’re the best in everything you do. But this dream… It's been dragging on. It’s costing money. It’s costing you . You’re not eighteen anymore. Maybe you’ve done all you could. Maybe that’s enough.”

Her throat closed up. “Please don’t say that.”

“Mia—”

“Just… let me stay until the end of the year,” she blurted out. “Please. Just a few months. I feel close. I am close.”

Her mom looked torn. “Sweetheart…”

“I’ll eat more. I’ll rest. I’ll call more. I promise. Just… let me try a little longer.”

Just as her mom opened her mouth to respond, a sleepy voice cut through the quiet. 

" Unnie , you're being kinda loud. We're all trying to sleep."

Mia turned, a little startled. Sohee stood in the hallway, rubbing her eyes, her voice soft but pointed.

"Oh... Sorry," Mia said, swallowing hard. "I'll end the call now."

Sohee just nodded and walked back towards the bedrooms. Mia turned back to the screen. 

"I should go," she said, forcing a smile. 

Her mom didn't smile back. "Mia..."

"I'll call again soon," she said quickly, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Not tonight. "Tell halmeoni I love her and that I'll call this weekend, okay?

Her mom gave her one last long look, full of hesitation, full of worry. "Eat something better than noodles, please."

Mia nodded. "I will. Promise."

They ended the call, the screen went dark. The kitchen felt colder. Emptier.

She sat her phone down and stared at her bowl of ramen absently. It had gone cold and clumpy. She tossed it in the sink without taking another bite. 

She turned off the kitchen light and headed to her room to grab her toiletries. On the way, she found Sohee waiting, a little more awake now.

"Were you talking about Stray Kids just now?" Sohee asked, tilting her head. 

Mia blinked. "Yeah, I was… just telling my mom about that one song we're learning in dance class." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. 

It wasn't that she didn't trust Sohee but sometimes other trainees got jealous. And when that happened... things got complicated. 

"Oh," Sohee said with a small nod. Her eyes lit up a little. "I need to get better at English. You'll help me, right?" 

Mia smiled, soft and automatic. "Of course." 

They exchanged a quiet goodnight and Mia walked off toward the bathroom. When she returned, she climbed into her bunk, pulled the blanket up to her chin and started at the ceiling.

The dorm was quiet again, but her mind was loud. She couldn't stop thinking about Jisung's offer, about Chan's conviction. 

She closed her eyes but sleep didn't come.

What if this was it? She'd said no but she couldn't stop thinking what it would feel like to say yes. 

***

The next morning started in chaos.

Mia’s eyes fluttered open to sunlight filtering through the thin curtains. That was already a bad sign. No alarm, no one nudging her awake. She sat up so fast her head spun.

“Shit,” she whispered, scrambling out of bed and yanking on a hoodie—backwards—then swering again as she pulled it off and flipped it around. 

Most of the dorm was already empty, her roommates had left. She brushed her teeth in under 30 seconds and didn’t even bother tying her shoes properly before she bolted out the door.

She barely made it into her first class, breathless and disheveled, still tugging her hoodie down. Her instructor didn’t say much, just gave her a long look over the rim of her glasses and marked Mia's name on the attendance sheet with a sharp flick of her pen. But the rest of the class noticed. Late trainees didn’t get second chances often.

And the day only went downhill from there.

Practice ran long, and her ankle was still sore from the last round of choreography drills. She was hungry, sweaty, and drained by the time practice was over. She was really regretting not eating anything for dinner last night. 

She went to the cafeteria to get some coffee, just something that’d wake her up and maybe trick her stomach into thinking she ate something before her next class. Mia reached into her bag for her wallet and froze. It was gone. Her stomach dropped, she checked every pocket twice while the people behind her began shifting impatiently. Nothing, it must’ve fallen out when she rushed out this morning. 

Mia was about to apologize to the barista, and then to the line behind her, when a familiar voice called out from behind. 

“Yo, you okay?” Jisung.

She turned, embarrassed. “Yeah—uh, I just forgot my wallet. It’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Let me get it for you,” he said casually, already pulling out his card.

“No, no, really, you don’t have to—” she protested, her cheeks burning.

“C’mon,” Jisung insisted. “If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back next time. But I’m not letting you go on with your day without caffeine. That’s bad karma.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

Jisung smiled back, he opened his mouth to say something but got interrupted by the barista. 

“Han-ssi,” she said shyly, “your order isn’t ready but it’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Oh,” Jisung nodded. “That’s okay. I can wait. I almost forgot why I was here in the first place.” He chuckled and Mia copied him. “Do you have to go to your next lesson or can you wait with me?”

Mia checked the time on her phone, then smiled. “I can definitely wait with you.”

"Great!" Jisung cheered. "I'm on coffee duty this week because I was late for practice twice," he added rolling his eyes. 

"Is it that bad?" she asked, genuinely curious. 

He gave a dramatic shrug. "It'd be easier if it was just eight americanos, but no. Everyone has their own fancy order. And Chan doesn't even drink coffee."

"What does he drink?"

"Redbull."

Mia snorted. "Figures."

Jisung looked pleased with her reaction. 

"So do you have a busy day today?" Mia asked while sipping on her iced latte.

He nodded. "We've got a shoot, then probably hang out and film a SKZ code episode," he said, glancing at his phone. 

"Isn't it weird?" Mia asked before she could stop herself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"What's weird?"

"You know… being followed by cameras and stuff."

"You get used to it," Jisung said, scrunching his nose. "It kinda sucks on bad days, though. Like, sometimes I just want to cry into my ramen without a GoPro judging me."

Mia laughed and nodded. "Fair."

"You'll see when you debut."

"If that ever happens," she muttered, already regretting the sarcasm but too tired to fake optimism today.

"Hey, you're the one who rejected my offer," Jisung pouted playfully. "I'm joking. It'll happen. You're really freaking talented."

Mia rolled her eyes, but her face warmed anyway. "You really do think so highly of me."

"I do," he said with a casual shrug, like he hadn't just made her entire day.

The barista called his name and handed over two trays of drinks. Jisung attempted to balance them on his arms.

Mia stepped in. "Okay, give me one before you spill something and become a meme." Jisung snorted this time. 

They walked outside in silence, where two black vans were waiting. One of the managers started approaching them.

"You can give me the tray," Jisung said. Then, quieter: "I meant it, by the way."

Mia blinked. "What?"

"You're really talented," he repeated. "I want to borrow your voice. Let's hang out at the studio soon."

She got excited and did the best she could to not show it. "Sure," she said as casually as possible. 

"Cool!" Jisung grinned. "I'll text you. Thank you, noona!"

They both bowed, and Mia walked back into the building. 

Jisung climbed into the van and carefully handed over the tray of drinks.

"Who was that, Jisung-ah?" Minho asked, eyeing him with curiosity.

"Mia Lee. She's a trainee."

"She was in my korean class," Felix added. "She helped me a lot. I remember her handwriting was better than mine."

"Everyone's handwriting is better than yours, Lix," Hyunjin teased. 

A loud smack echoed through the van, followed by someone yelping, "Ouch!" The van erupted in laughter as the driver pulled away from the curb.

***

A few days later, Mia navigated the maze of hallways, her phone screen glowing the directions Jisung had texted her. She had never been on this floor before, and a small part of her worried she was lost. She was also nervous. Nervous about being in the studio with Jisung, working on whatever song he had in mind. What if she messed up? What if she sounded bad? Who was going to hear it? Just him or the whole group too? 

She stopped in front of the studio number he'd sent. Then it hit her all at once: this wasn't just any studio. This was Chan's studio.

Mia had heard about it a thousand times. The room where Chan did his lives, the one credited on so many of Stray Kids’ songs. She hadn't watched more than a couple minutes of those streams herself, but her roommates had been obsessed.

Her heart skipped. The world of Stray Kids felt miles away from her trainee reality.

She took a breath and knocked.

The door swung open. Jisung stood there, grinning like a kid showing off his favorite toy.

“Hey! You made it,” he said, stepping aside.

Mia hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

The room was like a music lover’s dream. Modern equipment, glowing panels, and posters scattered here and there. It was bigger than she expected, cozy but buzzing with energy.

Jisung immediately launched into a tour, pointing out the different gear. “This is the main mixing board. That’s where we layer the vocals. Over there’s Chan’s favorite synth. And here...” He pulled out a tablet with a song file open. “This is the track I want to record today.”

He started telling the story behind it. What inspired him, the late nights tweaking tiny details, how one sound changed the whole vibe. His eyes lit up in a way Mia hadn’t seen before. This was his world. And she found herself pulled right into it.

They spent some time practicing the song, running through the vocals and harmonies until Mia felt more confident.

Finally, Jisung gestured toward the recording booth. “Okay," he said, flashing her a smile "Time to give it a try."

She stepped inside, the glass door sliding shut behind her. She took a deep breath and let the music carry her, closing her eyes, feeling the beat in her chest. Maybe leaning into it a little too much.

When she finally opened her eyes, she froze.

Two more pairs of eyes were watching her through the glass.

Bang Chan and Changbin. 

She blinked, surprised, then gave a small wave.

Changbin’s mouth hung slightly open, clearly stunned. Jisung, meanwhile, was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. The three of them started talking, but the sound was muffled on her side of the glass.

She tried to catch Jisung’s attention and once she did she mouthed: “I can’t hear you.”

He pressed a button, and she could hear him on the headphones. “We just need a minute.”

Mia nodded and looked down, picking at the chipped polish on her thumbnail, trying to pretend the situation wasn’t deeply awkward.

She watched through the glass as Changbin started talking passionately to Chan, gesturing with his hands. Jisung nodded eagerly, agreeing with everything Changbin said. Chan looked conflicted. He argued back quietly, glancing at Mia, then Changbin, then back to Mia as if apologizing silently for the tension.

Mia’s stomach tightened.

Are they fighting because I’m here?

The door opened. Chan gestured her to come out of the booth.

“Sorry, Mia,” he said with a small smile. “We were just discussing something.”

She smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “About me?”

Changbin stepped forward, his tone blunt but not unkind. “Actually, yes. Nice to meet you. I’m Changbin. Why did you say no to us?”

Mia laughed, caught off guard by his honesty. Behind her, Chan let out a quiet groan and facepalmed.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mia.” She said, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because you guys already debuted?”

Changbin frowned thoughtfully, but there was no judgment—only curiosity.  “There have been a lot of K-pop groups that added new members after their debut. It’s not unheard of.”

Mia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but those were all-boy groups or all-girl groups. This would be a boy group adding a girl .”

Changbin smiled confidently. “Stray Kids has never been afraid of changing things, doing things differently, or breaking the narrative.”

Before Mia could respond, Jisung talked first. 

"He's right," he said, nodding. "You're exactly the kind of person who could change the game for us. You're a great singer, you're hardworking, kind and smart. And you don't try to be anyone but yourself. That's rare, Mia."

She blinked, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone. 

"And you already feel like part of the team," he added, softer now. "When we were working earlier, me showing you the lyrics and your follow up questions. It didn't feel like I was helping a trainee, it felt like we were collaborating. That's what we do in Stray Kids. We push each other, we grow together. And I think you'd fit right in."

There was a moment of silence. Chan rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. Changbin crossed his arms with a knowing smirk, clearly satisfied that Jisung had said what he couldn’t in quite the same way.

Mia exhaled slowly, her eyes moving from one boy to the next.

They were serious. Not just teasing. Not playing around. They actually meant it.

And that scared her more than anything.

She looked back at Bang Chan, waiting —hoping— for him to say anything. 

When he didn’t, she forced a half-smile and said, "Any advice from someone who waited years to debut too?" Her voice was casual, but the question wasn't. She wanted to know what he was thinking. If he wanted her there, as much as the others clearly did. 

Chan felt the weight of her eyes on him, felt the silent question hanging between them. He'd been quiet too long, but not because he didn't have anything to say. He was thinking too much, as usual. 

About how this could change everything.  This wasn’t just about adding a new voice or filling a gap. It was about reshaping everything they’d built, their dynamic, their sound, their future. And it scared him, honestly. Because change was risky, but it was also worth it.

He looked at Mia, really looked, and saw more than just a talented trainee. He saw someone who could push them beyond the limits they’d unknowingly set for themselves. Someone who didn’t just want to join the group, but could make them better… stronger, more whole.

What if saying yes means everything changes? He thought. But what if saying no is the biggest risk of all?

He finally spoke, slowly, choosing his words like they mattered. Because they did. 

“Stray Kids works because we trust each other. It’s not just about being talented or having good vocals—it’s about showing up for one another. No one tries to be the center. We move as a group.”

He paused, watching her face carefully.

"If what we’ve heard about you is true, the company’s wasting your talent by not debuting you already. Solo or in a group… you’re ready. You already have the instinct. You listen. You adapt. That’s not something you can teach."

Chan stepped a little closer, not physically, but in tone. 

“This... us asking you to join? It’s not about needing something. We’re already eight. But we want you to be part of what we’re building. If, and only if, you want that too.” He didn’t smile when he said it. He just looked at her, steady and open, hoping she could see the truth behind the words.

Because he knew: the group would survive without her. But with her? They might become something they hadn’t even dreamed of yet.

Mia gulped. Her mouth felt dry, her heart hammering in her chest. "Can I have a few days to think about it?" she asked, her voice soft. 

She wasn't stalling. Not really. She just needed time to breathe. To understand how something that felt so out of reach was suddenly sitting in front of her, waiting for her to say yes. 

The moment the words left her mouth, Jisung and Changbin let out twin cheers, like she'd already said yes. Chan looked over at them with a mix of amusement and affection, like a tired parent watching two excitable kids.

"Of course," Chan said, nodding. “We can have a meeting and everything. Discuss how it would work, answer any questions you have before you make your decision.”

That was the thing, Mia did have questions. So many. About what this would mean for her future, her image, her voice, her life. But more than questions, she had feelings. And those were harder to untangle.

“Okay,” Mia said simply, hoping her face wasn’t giving away how overwhelmed she felt.

“Don’t look scared!” Jisung grinned. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She sighed, a bit dramatically. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Think about the years she’d spent in practice rooms, waiting. The days she’d gone unnoticed. The nights she’d asked herself if this path was ever going to lead anywhere. And now… here. In this studio. With these boys. With this possibility.

“Think of it as… you getting eight new brothers,” Changbin said.

“I’m an only child,” she blinked.

“Oh.” Changbin frowned for a moment, then his face lit up with a grin. “That’s even better!”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. Then the others did too. The room softened again, the weight of the moment lifted by their chaotic charm.

They offered to show her the song with her vocals in it. She sat beside them as they pulled it up, watching as Jisung played the version with Seungmin and Jeongin singing her parts first.

It was good. It always was with them. But when her voice came in, layered in with theirs, something shifted. The sound wasn’t just different. It felt fuller. Braver. Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

For the next forty minutes, she barely spoke, just watched them work. How they bounced ideas off each other, how natural it all seemed. Like breathing.

And somewhere in that quiet, watching them argue about reverb levels and bridge transitions, something in her settled.

For the first time since becoming a trainee, she felt like she was exactly where she belonged.

She still had questions. She’d still need that meeting. But her heart had already decided. She knew what her answer was going to be: Yes.

Chapter Text

The conference room was quiet, except for the soft clack of keys from the two managers at the far end of the table. Everyone else sat around it, closer to the screen board, eyes glazed over or half-awake, coffees in hand. Chan was finishing up, standing at the front with his iPad in one hand and the other gesturing vaguely toward the screen behind him. 

“So that’s the idea for the next comeback and the recording schedule,” he said, tapping through the last slide. “It’s tight, but it works for what we have planned. We’ll adjust if we need to.” 

There were a few nods before Seungmin spoke up, squinting down at the paper in front of him. 

“Why is there a gap between the recording times?” he asked, brows knitting together. “Normally you guys ask us to be ten minutes early, and now there's a gap of one hour, one and a half most days.” 

He raised an eyebrow. The rest of the group turned to stare at Chan too, waiting for an answer. 

Chan glanced down, then back up. “Yeah, about that—uh. We’ve been working on something behind the scenes. Only Changbin, Jisung and me.”

“Is it a 3RACHA album?” Hyunjin asked this time. 

Chan looked to his left. “Sungie, you explain it. It’s your idea.”

Jisung blinked like he hadn’t been listening, he had been too busy imagining how everyone might react, the million ways this could backfire. But he got up quickly, brushing off the nerves, and made his way to the laptop. “Right. Yeah. Hang on.”

Chan stepped to the side, arms crossed but fingers digging slightly into his bicep. He was tense. This wasn't just a music update, it was a shift. And not everyone liked change. 

Jisung leaned over, looking for the presentation. The screen lit up. 

First slide. 

A photo of Mia.

“This is Mia,” Jisung said, and didn’t get any further.

“We’re not doing PR dating stunts,” Seungmin said flatly.

There was a pause.

Changbin snorted. “Do you really think Jisung would suggest that?” He turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Dating a girl?”

“Hey!” Jisung snapped. “I like girls too!”

Chan let out a quiet breath through his nose. Of all moments for that to come up... 

Changbin held up a hand, grinning. “Okay, okay—sorry. Let me rephrase.”

He looked at Seungmin again. “Do you really think Jisung would date anyone that wasn’t Min—”

“Changbin.” Chan’s voice cut in sharp.

A beat of silence.

Minho smiled without showing his teeth. Just the kind that tugged at the corner of his mouth, like he was enjoying this too much.

Jisung’s face went a little pink. He cleared his throat and kept going. “Anyway.”

“We’re not doing PR stunts,” Jisung said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not what this is.”

Jisung moved to the next slide. A clean profile page appeared with scores, evaluations, progress reports, and vocal rankings. All of it under the name: Amelia Jiah Lee. 

The room fell quiet as Chan started handing out printed copies of her curriculum, one to each member. Papers slid across the table, a soft rustle in the silence. He watched them all carefully. 

Name: Amelia Jiah Lee

Korean name : Lee JiAh

Birth date: April 4, 1997

Age: 24 (as of 2021)

Nationality: British (born in London, UK)

Languages spoken: Native English, fluent Korean (see end), basic Japanese

Height: 1.63m

MBTI: INFJ

Education: preparatory school diploma

Trainee Since: August 2017 (4 years as of 2021)

Personality Notes: See end

Instructor Notes: See end

Jisung took a breath. “I met Mia a few weeks ago. She’s a trainee here—has been for a while, actually. Probably has the best vocal out of all the trainees right now, but… because of her age, she hasn’t debuted. And she’s not being considered for any of the upcoming girl groups.”

He hesitated, glancing toward Chan, who gave a small nod of encouragement. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Hyunjin said, frowning slightly. 

“What I’m suggesting,” Jisung said, steadier now, “is that we add her to the group. Stray Kids—with nine members.”

There was another pause.

Felix was the first to react. He leaned forward, eyes bright. “And one’s a girl?” He grinned. “I love that.”

Jisung smiled, relief flooding his features. “Right?”

Jeongin looked down at the paper in front of him, then back up at the older members. “I don’t know, hyung… it sounds a little risky.”

Jisung tilted his head, his voice playful but sincere. “But a good kind of risky.”

Chan could see the shift happening. Some walls dropping. Some still very much up. 

Seungmin looked at him directly. “Did you ask the company?”

Chan nodded, arms unfolding. “We did. It wasn’t easy. But Jisung, Changbin, and I pitched it to the board. We played them a few demos we recorded with Mia—some of the new concept ideas we’ve been working on too.”

He glanced around the table, making sure everyone was listening.

“They agreed to it. On one condition.”

Jisung looked around too, his eyes finding each member. “They’ll only move forward if we’re all on board.”

Most of the room went quiet again.

Chan tried not to hold his breath, but he was. He'd spent weeks thinking about what this could mean, for them, for her. And maybe even for himself. But none of it mattered if the people sitting at this table didn't believe in her the way he did. 

Changbin flipped through the curriculum slowly. He'd worked with Mia on a few demos, but out of the three of them, he'd spent the least time in the studio with her. Most of this—the stats, evaluations, trainer notes—was still new. Technical. Impressive.  

Across the table, Felix was still beaming quietly to himself, scanning Mia's stats like he was already picturing her in a concept shoot. His enthusiasm was constant, easy. But the others—Hyunjin had a thoughtful look on his face, one hand resting against his cheek. Minho sat back in his chair, unreadable. Jeongin and Seungmin were both frowning at the printouts like they didn’t quite know what to do with them. 

Jisung noticed. 

“She’s also interested in writing,” he offered, voice a little lighter. “She helped me on one of the demos we submitted. She has a lot of English vocabulary. And her ideas were solid—like, really clean.”

No one said anything right away.

Chan glanced around the room, then stepped forward. “If you have questions, now’s the time. We’re not rushing into this unless it makes sense to everyone.”

There was a pause.

Minho was the first to speak.

“I want to see her dance scores,” he said, still not looking at anyone in particular. “Her evaluations.”

Jisung clicked a new slide. Mia’s monthly dance rankings, footage links listed in the notes, red numbers circled in the top right corner.

“She’s been training in both hip-hop and contemporary. She’s not top-tier like the main dancer line, but she’s consistent. Technical. And she’s been improving fast.”

Minho just nodded.

Then Hyunjin, quietly: “So she’s from England?”

 Jisung nodded. “Moved here when she was nineteen. She didn’t speak much Korean at first—took the same classes Felix did when he joined.”

Felix perked up. “She used to sit next to me. Her handwriting was better than mine.”

That got a faint smile from Jisung, and something even softer from Chan, who was still tense, still standing—hyperaware of every shift in energy. 

“She’s been a trainee for four years now,” Chan added. “She’s twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four?” Jeongin blinked. “She doesn’t look older than Chan.”

That earned a small ripple of laughter. Even Seungmin cracked a smile, and Chan let the joke roll. 

“I moisturize,” Chan sighed. 

“So, she’d be in Vocalracha?” Seungmin asked, flipping back a few pages.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. That’s the plan.”

Felix jumped in, pointing between the members. “It’d balance everything out. 3RACHA are three, Danceracha are three, but Vocalracha is just Seungmin and Innie right now. Adding Mia makes it even.”

Jeongin looked up again. “What’s her vocal rank? Like—what’s her style?”

“She’s not power-vocal like Seungmin,” Jisung said, eyes flicking toward the ceiling as he searched for the right words. “More color tone. Expressive. Her control’s really sharp.”

“She’s good at layering,” Changbin added. “Knows how to sit in a mix. She doesn’t compete with anyone else’s tone—she blends.”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Might be better if we just hear it.”

Chan nodded. “Alright.”

He reached for the laptop, opening up the folder marked 3RACHA x MIA. A soft click. The first demo loaded.

The speakers hummed softly before the instrumental started.

It was stripped back at first. Just a slow piano loop and a distant hum. Then Mia’s voice came in—clear, light, and controlled. The kind of tone that caught you off guard. Smooth like silk but with a weight behind it, something just a little sad, like she’d lived through whatever she was singing about.

No one spoke.

Hyunjin blinked, his brows pulling together slowly. His eyes dropped to the desk in front of him, fingers tapping out the beat like he was trying to process the rhythm through his skin.

Seungmin stayed still. He didn’t look at anyone. Just stared ahead, listening intently. His mouth tightened a little near the second verse—something in the phrasing must’ve caught his attention. A small, sharp breath through his nose. Approval, maybe.

Felix looked like he was already picturing it on stage. His head tilted to the side, a soft smile growing the longer the track played. Every now and then he mouthed along to parts of the chorus—he must’ve already heard it a few times.

Jeongin wasn’t smiling. Not yet. But he leaned in, hands clasped in front of him, like something had shifted. Like he didn’t expect to feel anything but now kind of did.

Minho didn’t move at all.

He sat with his arms crossed, jaw set, but there was something different in his eyes. They tracked the sound like they were chasing it. Mia’s voice climbed during the bridge, feather-light falsetto over a slow, echoing beat drop—and Minho blinked once, sharp, like the moment surprised him. He didn’t hide it fast enough.

Then it was Jisung’s voice. Then Mia again. Their voices overlapping during the chorus. The blend was natural, seamless.

Too natural.

Jisung looked at the others, trying to read the air, his throat tight. Do they hear it? Do they feel what I felt?

Minho's eyes moved from the screen to Jisung, who was still standing near the laptop, fingers nervously fidgeting at the hem of his sleeve. He wasn't talking, but his body was. He was buzzing—restles in a way that meant he cared. Too much. 

Minho knew him too well. 

He saw the signs: the flush just under his ears, the way his food tapped the floor in tiny, unconscious rhythms. This wasn't just some idea Jisung had thrown out for fun. He believed in it. In her. 

And for some reason, that made something twist quietly in Minho's chest. 

He wasn't proud of it, but it was there. A small unspoken sting. 

Minho's jaw shifted slightly as he looked back at the screen. Her voice echoed faintly in the last seconds of the demo, fading into a soft piano outro. He exhaled quietly through his nose. No one noticed. Except maybe Chan, who was still watching the room like it was his job to catch what everyone else missed. 

Chagbin was the first one to say anything. “That hits.”

No one disagreed.

Hyunjin looked up, nodding slowly. “She has presence.” He knew presence—he was presence—and he could tell when someone else had it too. Still, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He'd been gone for a while. Things had changed. Was this change too big?

“Her tone’s insane,” Jeongin said, more to himself than anyone else.

Seungmin didn’t say anything right away. He just looked at the empty spot on the screen where the waveform had been. Then he nodded once, slow and deliberate. “She’d be a great addition.”

Minho didn’t speak.

He just looked at Jisung.

And Jisung didn’t look away.

Minho leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed.

“What if people don’t like this new addition?” 

The question hung in the air for a second. Not sharp—just honest. Quietly loaded. The air in the room shifted. Everyone felt it. 

Chan exhaled. He didn’t hesitate, he'd been expecting this. 

“We’ve never been afraid of sounding different,” he said. “Or doing things that break the rules. This group exists because we did what people told us not to do." His voice was steady.Reassuring. But underneath it, his chest tightened just a bit. "If we commit to this, we will make it work.”

Hyunjin was next. He pushed his hair back, gaze lowered, like he was measuring every word. “Okay, but… what if it’s not about the music?”

He didn't mean it to sound harsh. But it hung there anyway. After everything, the long months of uncertainty during his hiatus, Hyunjin was more careful now. What he feared most was not failure. It was instability. Losing what they had built together.  

Everyone looked at him.

“I mean, what if personality-wise she’s not compatible with us?” he said, eyes flicking toward Chan, then Jisung. “We’ve been together for a while now. We’re close. And she’s a girl we don’t know. What if it’s not what we expect—not musically, but just… the group dynamic. What if it gets ruined?”

There was a beat of silence. Jisung swallowed hard. He'd asked himself the same thing more than once. 

He tapped his chin, thinking. “If you want to meet her,” he said slowly, “we could just invite her to hang out. Before making a decision." His eyes dropped for a second. "She’s really nice. And kind. I think she’s gonna be a good addition—but I get where you’re coming from.”

He glanced around the table, his voice softer now. “You just have to meet her.”

Minho smirked, leaning back in his seat like someone who already knew the punchline to a joke no one else had heard yet. “Do you have a crush on her?”

The question came out light, but the moment he said it, the room seemed to tilt—just enough. 

Jisung blinked, caught off guard. “What? No! Of course not!” 

His ears turned red like they were wired to betray him. “She’s just… she’s nice, okay?!”

Hyunjin grinned. All casual mischief, eyes sparkling with entertainment. “She is pretty,” he pointed out, like it was a simple observation and not a gasoline to a fire.

Jisung looked like he was about to combust. He made a strangled noise of protest, shoulders hunching defensively.

Seungmin cut in flatly, arms still folded. “We’ll have to set boundaries with her.”

The tone was flat. Too calm. But his words landed like a dart in the center of the room. Everyone turned to him.

“One couple in the group is enough,” he added, rolling his eyes without looking at anyone in particular.

Minho turned his head toward him, slow and pointed. His expression didn't change much, but the look said, You're bold for someone still breathing. 

Hyunjin lost it. He burst into laughter and tried to cover it with a cough, failing miserably.

Chan sighed like he’d aged five years in a minute. “Oh my god.”

He dragged a hand down his face, analyzing his life choices. This was going to be a long and interesting year.

Chapter Text

 A week later the group was gathered around a low table, plates already stacked with side dishes, the smell of grilled meat hung heavy in the air. The sizzle from the table’s built-in grill a comforting backdrop to the chatter bouncing around the private room at the BBQ. 

Jisung was practically bouncing in his seat, checking the door every few seconds. “Why are they taking so long?” he muttered, sipping on his soda. 

Minho sat beside him, arms folded. “Maybe she realized this was a bad idea.”

Of all the mixed opinions they had about Mia joining, Minho had been the most vocal about his uncertainty. 

Seungmin gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”

I.N adjusted his cap, peeking over at the grill. “I just hope this doesn’t make things weird.”

The others—Hyunjin, Felix, and Changbin—were more relaxed, chatting about a video they’d all seen earlier, but even they were half-listening, waiting.

Then the door slid open.

Chan stepped in first, casual in a hoodie and jeans. Behind him came Mia.

She hesitated for a split second before entering, scanning the room, every bit of her posture quietly tense. Unlike the boys in their comfortable clothes, Mia was dressed up—simple but polished. She clasped her hands in front of her and bowed deeply.

“Hello. I’m Lee JiAh. It’s really nice to meet you all.”

The room went silent for a beat too long, then Chan smiled and motioned toward the table.

“We asked Mia to join us so everyone could meet properly. I figured it’s easier to eat together than sit around a boardroom.”

She gave a small, polite smile. 

Chan gestured at the others. “Can you all go around and introduce yourselves?”

One by one, the members followed his cue—some with warm smiles, others with reserved nods.

“I’m Hyunjin. Nice to meet you,” said the black-haired boy, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Seungmin,” came next, tone neutral but not unfriendly.

“I’m Jeongin, or I.N,” the maknae said with a slight smile, then added, “Welcome.”

Felix, tilted his head slightly. “Do you remember me? We took Korean lessons together a while ago at the company.”

Mia blinked, then nodded shyly. “I do. You're Felix. You helped me with pronunciation once…”

Felix’s grin widened. “You’ve improved a lot. Both of us have, huh?”

She ducked her head, cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“Changbin,” he said, flashing a smile.

“Jisung,” and then added  “but you already know that.”

The last one was Minho, who still had that unreadable look on his face. “Lee Know,” he presented himself with his stage name. 

Jisung frowned. “But you can call him Minho.” 

Minho squinted his eyes and Mia decided not to say anything. Maybe it was for the best to call him Lee Know. Like he said. 

Once the introductions were over Chan clapped his hands together and said,  “Alright, let’s eat. We’ve got time.”

The others moved into motion, passing the side dishes, pouring drinks, making space for the kind of quiet rhythm that only comes from routine. Mia took a seat near the end, between Felix and Jisung, her posture still a little stiff.

She sat with her hands neatly folded on her lap, unsure what to do with them. The clatter of chopsticks and sizzle of meat filled the room again, but the low murmur of voices made her hyper-aware of every blink, every movement.

Mia wasn’t usually this quiet—at least not with the other trainees. But this wasn’t the practice room, and these weren’t just anyone. These were them. The ones with sold-out tours and chart-topping songs and millions of fans. And here she was, sitting next to them, trying not to drop her chopsticks.

Across the table, Seungmin watched her. He wasn't being rude, just observant. His arms folded loosely. “Mia or JiAh?” He asked, not unkindly.

Mia blinked before answering him. “JiAh is my korean name but I’ve always been Mia.”

He nodded slowly. “How long have you been a trainee?”

She straightened in her seat. “Since 2017,” she said quietly. “Four years now.”

“Wow,” Hyunjin said, mid-bite. “That’s longer than some of us trained before debut.”

Felix leaned a little closer, his smile kind and curious. “Did you always want to be a singer?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, then hesitated, cheeks coloring. “Well—yes. I didn’t think it would be K-pop, though.”

Felix’s brows lifted, and he grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She could feel their attention turn to her again. It wasn’t hostile—it wasn’t even intense. Just curious. Gentle. But it still made her throat feel tight.

“Where are you from again?” I.N asked, chewing thoughtfully. His tone was light, but his eyes flicked across her face, quietly reading her the way he always did with new people.

“London. Born and raised. My mom is Korean.”

Minho, who had been mostly quiet, leaned back in his seat, eyes thoughtful. “How did you end up here, then?”

It wasn't judgmental, just cautious. Mia noticed. Everyone probably did.

Mia reached for her water, more for something to hold than anything else. “My mom signed me up for an open audition. I thought she was joking. I was… eighteen?” She let out a soft laugh. “Next thing I knew, I was packing my bags.”

Someone laughed—soft and genuine. Seungmin, maybe. That made her glance his way, and when she did, her eyes landed on Chan instead.

He was across the table, elbow propped lazily on the surface, a soft smile on his face as he watched her. Then he mouthed two words:

It’s okay.

That was all. No pressure. No expectations. No checklist she had to pass.

Mia felt something loosen in her chest. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, shoulders dropping just enough to make her look… like she was there, not just surviving the moment.

“Do you still talk to your family?” Hyunjin asked next.

“All the time,” she replied, her voice steadier. “My mom still thinks I’m too thin. She tells me to eat more rice.”

That made several of them laugh.

“You’ll get used to those kinds of comments,” Hyunjin said, finally speaking. “My mom says the same.”

Jisung chimed in, grinning. “We should introduce them. They’ll probably talk about how much we don’t sleep and gang up on us.”

Mia smiled again, this time without forcing it. Something in her chest softened at the sound of their laughter.

Her eyes scanned the table. Everyone was eating, teasing each other like this was any other night. No one was staring at her awkwardly. No one seemed to expect anything except… her. 

Maybe this didn’t have to be so scary. Maybe this room wasn’t just full of idols. Just people.

Mia leaned forward, squinting down at the plate of grilled meat and side dishes. She tried again to peel off a perilla leaf with her chopsticks, but the slick green stubbornly clung to the one beneath it. Her brows furrowed in concentration as the leaf slipped—again.

“Ugh,” she muttered under her breath.

Jisung noticed. “Need help?” he asked, already reaching out with his chopsticks.

Mia looked up, caught off guard. “Maybe?”

But before he could get near the plate, Minho’s hand came out of nowhere and smacked Jisung’s wrist lightly. The sound echoed in the private room, followed by a beat of stunned silence.

Jisung stared at Minho, wounded. “ Hyung !” he whined, rubbing his hand. “What was that for?”

Minho didn’t even look up from his plate, just shook his head. Completely unbothered.

Everyone burst out laughing—Felix nearly choked on his lettuce wrap.

Mia looked between them, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “Wait—why can’t he help?”

Seungmin snorted into his drink. “You’ve just stepped into a minefield.”

Mia turned to Jisung, eyebrows raised, still trying to piece it together. “Is there, like… a rule?”

She wasn’t expecting the way Jisung’s ears turned red.

“Um,” he coughed. “There’s this thing—if a guy peels a perilla leaf for a girl, it’s, like… a love thing?”

“Oh,” she blinked, processing. She had heard something like that before, but she'd always assume it was exaggerated—a silly joke, not something people actually teased each other about. Then: “Wait—so, if you peeled it for me, that’d mean you like me?”

That made it worse. The laughter doubled. Jisung was red.

Felix leaned toward her, grinning. “Technically, yeah. That’s the joke. But don’t worry—it’s just a silly thing in Korean culture. It’s totally fine to help, it doesn’t really mean anything unless you want it to.”

Mia’s cheeks were burning. “Oh my god. I’m sorry. I have heard about it before, but I mostly hung out with girls so…" She trailed off with an awkward sigh. "Yeah.”

She turned to Minho, trying to smile to lighten the mood—but he didn't smile back. He just stared at her. 

Then she grabbed her chopsticks with renewed determination, narrowed her eyes at the leaf like it had wronged her personally, and tried again. This time, it came free on the first try.

“Hell yeah!” she cheered, grinning triumphantly—

Then immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry! I mean—sorry. That just came out.”

A few chuckles circled the table.

Chan laughed from the end of the table. “No need to apologize. That was well-earned.”

Felix clapped his hands. “You’ll fit right in.”

As the laughter settled and everyone returned to their food, Seungmin leaned back slightly, chopsticks in hand, eyeing Mia with a smirk.

“So,” he said casually, “how was it… being basically stalked by Jisung?”

Mia nearly choked on her rice, covering her mouth as she burst out laughing. "Oh my god." 

A couple of the members chuckled with her.

“I wasn’t stalking her!” Jisung groaned, throwing his hands up in protest. “I was just… observing. Quietly.”

“From behind vending machines?” Seungmin shot back.

“Hey!”

Mia wiped her eyes, still giggling. “To be fair, it was kind of funny. Every time I caught him watching me, he’d duck behind something like I didn’t already see him five seconds earlier.”

Next to Jisung, Minho had gone still. His posture hadn't changed, but his chopsticks paused mid-air. His gaze was on his plate, though every few seconds it flicked sideways—to Jisung. The others were laughing, but Minho's expresión remained unreadable. He wasn't smiling. 

Mia, unaware of Minho's behavior, smiled as the laughter died down. Her voice was softer now.

“But honestly? I’m glad he was watching. I mean, not in a creepy way,” she added quickly, glancing at Jisung, who was half-hiding his face in his hands again.

“I’ve been a trainee for years,” she said more quietly, her tone shifting slightly. “And most of that time I felt… invisible. Like no matter how hard I worked, no one really saw me.”

Her words landed with quiet weight. Her eyes found Jisung's again.

“So, yeah. It meant something. That someone noticed. That he noticed. It’s the most seen I’ve felt in years.”

The table fell into a brief silence. Not the uncomfortable kind. The thoughtful kind. Like everyone, for just a moment, was still enough to feel it. 

Chan looked at her, something like pride flickering behind his eyes. It wasn't a surprise to him—he'd seen her, too—but hearing it out loud clearly mattered. He gave her a small, quiet nod. 

Minho finally moved. He reached for his drink without a word, but his eyes lingered on Jisung for a second longer than necessary. He didn't say anything but the tensión in his jaw betrayed a flicker of something. 

Possessiveness? Worry? Jealousy? 

Nobody seemed to notice. 

Jisung blinked at her, caught somewhere between bashful and stunned. Her words had clearly shaken him. Then he smiled, small and sheepish. 

“I guess stalking works, huh?”

Everyone groaned. “ Hyung , no!” Jeongin laughed.

Mia just shook her head, laughing again—genuinely now, warmth blooming in her chest.

Moments later, the conversation had shifted to music. Seungmin leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly with interest when he heard Mia mentioning DAY6 when Changbin asked what kind of artists she liked and looked up to the most. 

“So yeah,” she continued “I listen to a lot. But right now it's mostly DAY6, Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo.” She chuckled. 

Seungmin blinked, then actually smiled—wide and real. “Wait, DAY6? Really? Same.”

“No way.” Mia’s eyes lit up. “You too?”

“Finally someone with taste,” Seungmin said, looking like he'd just won something. “Have you seen them live?”

Mia shook her head, her smile dimming a little. “No… My allowance money doesn’t cover concert tickets.”

The joke was half-hearted, a defense against the little pang of regret she still felt over missing concerts. But it was true. Trainee life wasn't glamorous, and money was tight.

Seungmin gave a sympathetic nod. “Yeah. I get that.”

Beside him, Jeongin leaned in. “What’s your favorite album?”

Mia didn’t even hesitate. “Moonrise. But The Book of Us: Entropy is close.”

Jeongin made an impressed face. “Solid choices.”

And just like that, something clicked. The conversation burst open. They bounced from favorite B-sides, lyrics that hit too hard, and arguing playfully about whether Sungjin’s voice or Dowoon’s underrated presence made the biggest difference in live shows. 

Later, she ended up talking to Felix and Hyunjin. Felix had asked her more about London, curious about where she grew up and what she missed most. When she started talking about her favorite art museums—Tate Modern, the V&A—Hyunjin’s eyes lit up.

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” he said. “I love pre-Raphaelite stuff.”

“Okay, wait—me too,” Mia said, turning toward him fully. “There’s a Waterhouse painting at Tate that I love. The Lady of Shalott.”

Hyunjin nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about. “That one’s haunting.”

It was all starting to fall into place. One by one, the walls were coming down. With Seungmin through music, Hyunjin through art, Felix through their old Korean classes and the quiet jokes about getting things wrong. Even Jeongin, who'd been a bit reserved at first, seemed to warm up as she opened up more.

All of them—except Minho.

She didn't miss it. The way he sat just a bit removed from the conversations, speaking only when necessary, his eyes always sharp but unreadable. 

He hadn't said more than a sentence or two to her since that first introduction. Maybe he was just like that, she thought. She tried to tell herself not to care. Not everyone needed to like her right away. But a small part of her—tired from years of trying to prove herself—ached at the possibility that maybe, for someone in this group, it still wasn't enough. 

The energy in the van was quiet as they were heading back to the dorms. Not tense—just settled. Mia was gone and now it was just them, back to being Stray Kids, no guests. 

Jisung, however, was still riding the high of the evening. He turned in his seat, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Well?” he asked, practically bouncing. “What did you guys think?”

A small wave of agreement moved through the group.

"She was nervous at first," Hyunjin said. "But she warmed up fast."

Felix nodded from beside him. "Yeah. Once she relaxed you could really see her personality."

They all agreed she’d fit right in. 

Chan gave a small smile at that. There was a quiet pride in his expression—like this was confirmation of what he'd hoped for. 

Jisung grinned, clearly satisfied. "Right? I told you guys. She's easy to talk to.”

Then the attention shifted. Everyone turned toward Minho. 

He hadn't said anything since they got in the van. He sat nearest the window, elbow resting against the glass, head tilted like he was watching the city blur past. 

“Minho?” Chan asked.

There was a pause. Minho didn't turn his head. He blinked slowly and exhaled through his nose before replying.

“I don’t know," he said finally. "Let me think about it.”

And that was it. No follow-up. No elaboration. 

Jisung turned back around slowly, his grin fading just a little. 

He wanted to read Minho. Wanted to ask what there was to think about. But Minho's walls were already up, so solid and practiced that Jisung couldn't tell what was going on behind them—or what to expect. 

No one else said anything. 

The van rolled on, quiet again. 

But it was a different kind of quiet now. 

The dorm was quiet. Lights out. 

Jisung lay curled up in bed, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He wasn't really looking at anything—just passing time, letting his thoughts spiral the way they always did when the room got dark and the world slowed down. 

He'd been thinking about Minho. About what he said in the van. About the way he looked when everyone else was laughing and settling in around Mia. 

And even if Jisung was the one who understood him best, it didn't mean it was always easy. 

Just as he was about to set his phone down, the door cracked open.

He didn't need to look up—he'd memorized the sound, that rhythm, the soft shuffle of steps like muscle memory. The mattress dipped behind him, as Minho slid under the covers. He pressed up against Jisung's back like he always did when he didn't feel like sleeping alone. 

Jisung didn't say anything, didn't turn around. Just kept scrolling. 

A meme popped up and he chuckled under his breath. Without thinking, he turned, phone in hand. 

"Look at this. It's you when we do a choreo with footwork and we don't get it right away."

Minho let out a soft laugh. 

Then a notification flashed across the top of the screen—Mia. 

Jisung swiped it away.

Minho rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn't say anything for a long moment. But the question had been building all day, tugging at the edge of his thoughts.

"Do you like her?" Minho's voice was quiet. Calm. But pointed. 

Jisung blinked. "What? No. I just think she's really talented. And she's nice."

He meant it. He wasn't lying. But there was something in the way Minho was watching the ceiling, refusing to look at him, that made Jisung's chest tighten. 

Minho didn't reply. He just laid there, still and quiet, eyes tracking the cracks in the ceiling as if they might shift into something he could understand. 

Jisung turned toward him. His voice lowered.

"So... is that why you said you didn't know about Mia? Because you're jealous?"

Minho scoffed, lips curling into something that was half a smirk, half a defense. "No."

Jisung raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because that's why you smacked my hand when I tried to help her with the perilla leaves."

Minho rolled his eyes, but he didn't deny it. 

Jisung grinned, stretching a little closer. "It's cute when you're jealous."

Minho turned his head slowly, eyes narrowed. "Don't say that again," he warned, voice low, "or I'm leaving."

But he knew he wouldn't live. Jisung smiled a little to himself. That was always how they were—push, pull, orbit.

"Fine, I won't say it again."

Then, more quietly: "So... what did you think of the song I recorded with her?"

He held his breath. Not because he needed Minho's approval—he didn't, not really. But it mattered. Because Minho mattered. 

Minho turned his head, just slightly, voice softer now. "It's good. Everything you write and record is always good. You know that."

Jisung smiled a little, but didn't let it go. "I saw your face. You didn't look pleased."

Minho's expression shifted—barely. "It was a love song."

Jisung let out a quiet chuckle. "I write a lot of love songs."

He watched Minho carefully, waiting. But Minho just nodded once, like it was the end of it. 

Jisung, suddenly unsure, asked softly, "So...are you going to say no?"

Minho sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, like maybe if he thought hard enough he could stop caring."No. But do you really think it's a good idea?"

Jisung didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I really do."

There was something in the way he said it—quiet conviction, a kind of warmth that didn't ask for permission. And Minho felt the last of his resistance slip away.

He looked at Jisung, finally meeting his eyes.

"Well…" he murmured, the hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. "Looks like Stray Kids is gonna have nine members now."

Chapter Text

Bang Chan had been working on his laptop in the studio for hours. His stomach growled, and he cursed himself for skipping lunch when the guys had invited him. But he was in the middle of a song now, and he couldn't stop until it was finished. He made a mental note to order food soon.

A soft knock at the door made him pause. He took off his headphones and called out, "Come in, I'm almost done," he called "I'll order food anyway, so don’t worry—"

"So, what do I do with the food I brought you?"

Chan turned his chair, a little startled. Mia stood there, holding a takeout bag, smiling. 

"Oh, sorry—I thought you were one of the guys."

"Nope," she said cheerfully, stepping further inside. "Just me."

He blinked. "Who told you I was here and... that I skipped lunch?"

"You're always here," she said with a shrug, like it was obvious. It was . "I texted Jisung to ask if I could come over and tell you guys something, but he said he went to lunch with Hyunjin and Changbin. Then Changbin said you didn't go and were probably starving, so I'm on ' make Chan eat'  duty."

Chan groaned softly but smiled, touched. "You didn't have to do that."

Mia shook her head. "It's okay, I don't mind. Binnie said maybe you'd listen to me because I'm older."

Chan chuckled. "Barely. You're older by what—six months?"

"Exactly. But you know how it is here. Age hierarchy is everything."

"It's a little weird at first, I have to admit, but you get used to it," Chan shrugged. He leaned back, watching her as she started unpacking the food. She looked so at ease, like she belonged here. That thought warmed something in his chest.

Mia nodded. "It's okay, I don't mind being called noona or unnie , but having full responsibility just because I'm older sounds like too much." She shrugged, then realized Chan's situation. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"It's okay," he interrupted. "I know you didn't mean it like that."

Then he asked: "You okay with the guys calling you noona ?"

"I don't mind," she said. "But you're not allowed to."

Chan raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why not?"

"Because it's a technicality at best. I don't have magical wisdom or more life experience because I'm born in April and you're born in October."

He laughed again, and she smiled—she liked making him laugh.

"Anyway," she said, shifting the subject. "I brought you food and good news!" 

He looked up, interested.

"I finished signing my contracts today, so I guess I'm officially a member of Stray Kids."

Chan cheered with her. "That's amazing news! Congratulations, Mia!"

"I wanted to tell everyone together, but I have to go back to the dorm to pack."

"Right, you're moving into the shared dorm with Felix, Seungmin, Hyunjin and Jeongin."

"They said it was the best dorm," Mia said and then added "And the quietest."

Chan scoffed lightly. "That's debatable."

Mia laughed. "I guess I'll find out."

He then asked, "Do you need help moving your stuff?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm okay. I don't have much."

She hesitated before adding, "Some of my roommates didn't take the news well."

Chan frowned. "The news about moving? Or about joining the group?"

"Both," she said quietly.

His jaw tightened for a second, but he caught himself. "Some people react that way at first," he said gently. "But we'll be with you the whole time. We won't let anything bad happen."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "And if you ever need anything, or just want to talk, you can always come to me."

Mia smiled back. "Thanks," she said softly. "I'm excited. A little scared too. But mostly excited."

"You're allowed to be both," Chan said, both smiled.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. 

"Oh right, I almost forgot." Mia suddenly reached into her bag and pulled out a small gift box.

Chan looked at her curiously. "What's that?"

Mia quickly explained, "I knew it was your birthday a few days ago, and Jisung told me you were working on that day. I felt bad so… yeah. Just a little gift." She smiled shyly. "I hope you like it."

Chan shook his head with a grin. "You didn't have to get me anything. I love working."

Mia teased, "I know you do, but still. I wanted to say thank you."

He laughed and opened the gift. Inside was a black beanie with a white "C" embroidered on it. His grin was instant.

"This is great," he said, already pulling it over his hair. "Perfect fit."

"I'm glad," she said, cheeks pink.

When they finished eating, Mia asked, "Can you show me what you're working on?"

The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon hunched over the console, trading opinions, smiling easily. And somewhere in the background of it all, something unspoken buzzed gently between them. 

Two days later, Chan was in the studio again—beanie on his head, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed in concentration. Barely noticing the hours slipping by.

Across the room, Jisung tilted his head and squinted at him. " Hyung , you've been wearing that beanie for two days straight."

Chan didn't look up. "And?"

"Are you okay? Are you... going bald?" Jisung asked, half-joking, though curiosity lingered in his tone.

Chan finally looked over, unamused. "I'm not going bald."

"Then what's up with the new beanie?" Jisung pressed. "You've got, like, thirty. Literally an entire drawer."

"I like this one."

"Did Soyeon give it to you?" Changbin chimed in, tone teasing.

Jisung gasped dramatically. "Wait—are you going out with Soyeon again ?"

Chan groaned, leaning back in his chair and dragging a hand over his face. "No. I'm not going out with Soyeon."

"Sana then?" Jisung grinned, enjoying himself too much. 

"Are you seriously going to name all my exes right now?" Chan asked, deadpan.

"Maybe," Jisung said with a shrug.

There was a beat of silence before Chan muttered, "Mia gave it to me."

That stopped them both. Jisung and Changbin exchanged a look, something unreadable flickering between them.

"Interesting," Changbin said eventually, voice neutral—but not really.

Jisung's phone pinged. He checked the screen, then immediately started gathering his stuff.

"Where are you going? We're not done yet," Chan asked.

"Mia asked me to meet her," Jisung said as he stood. "She needs help."

Chan arched a brow. "Help with what?"

Next to him, Changbin covered his mouth with his hand, hiding a grin.

"Calm down," Jisung teased, clearly enjoying the situation. "She just wants to go shopping and asked me to go with her."

Chan nodded, pretending to be unfazed. He turned back to his screen, jaw tightening slightly.

Jisung smirked but didn't say more. He just patted  Chan on the shoulder on his way out. "Don't work too hard, hyung ."

After the door closed behind him, a long silence stretched between Chan and Changbin.

Then Changbin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him like he was watching a puzzle come together. "Remember that whole 'boundaries' talk you gave us after we agreed on Mia joining?"

Chan sighed. "Yeah. Why?"

"Did you forget to give it to yourself?" Changbin smirked.

Chan didn't respond, but his neck was turning red, and that was all the answer Changbin needed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, turning back to his laptop.

"Sure, hyung ," Changbin said, still grinning. "Sure."

Jisung stepped out of his taxi into the soft dusk light, hoodie half-zipped, phone still in hand as he texted Mia he was nearby. She waved at him from just outside the mall entrance, already holding a bubble tea in one hand and looking way too put together for a casual shopping trip. 

"Hey!" she called out with a smile, holding him the drink. "I got you the taro one."

He blinked. "You remembered?" 

She nodded. "You said it tastes like cereal milk and childhood."

He grinned, taking a sip. "It does." 

They headed inside, slipping into the cool, air-conditioned mall as music floated down from the ceiling. Mia led the way toward one of the shops with bright displays and loud colors. 

"I'm on a mission," she said. 

"A mission?" Jisung echoed, sipping his drink. 

Mia nodded. "New Jeans. A proper jacket. And maybe a cute bag. I haven't bought clothes that weren't company-approved in forever."

Jisung laughed. "You mean you don't want five more oversized black hoodies?"

She shook her head. "I want five oversized pink ones."

Inside the store, she wandered toward the denim wall, Jisung following her closely. Mia pulled jeans from the rack, holding them up to her waist, but her movements slowed a little. 

"Hey," Mia said, turning toward him. "So... remember how I said the girls at the dorm didn't really take the news well?"

Jisung nodded. 

She handed him her phone. "They've been saying stuff. I didn't want to show you, or anyone. But I also kinda need someone to look at it and then tell me I'm not going crazy."

He glanged down at her screen. The group chat was open—her old roommates. His brows furrowed as he read: 

"Guess she really thinks she's special now"

"Should've known she was getting special treatment with Jisung sunbaenim always around."

"Bet that's why she always passed the evaluations."

"No wonder Jisung was always staring. Kinda embarrassing."

Jisung's jaw tensed. "And they said all this while you're still in the group chat."

Mia nodded. "They think I owe it all to you," she said quietly. "Or Chan. Or whoever they decide I'm close to."

Jisung handed the phone back, eyes sharp. "That's messed up. You trained for years. You deserve this."

She gave a soft shrug. "It just sucks, you know? I tried not to step on anyone's toes, and they still made me the villain."

Then added:

"I mean, I do kinda owe it to you because you made this happen… but still," she sighed. "Hearing them say all of this happened because you liked me it's just crazy."

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, yeah, I liked you. Because you're funny and kind and crazy talented. But not like that."

Mia nodded, biting her lip. "That's what I figured. Especially because… well…"

She hesitated, folding one pair of jeans over her arm. 

Jisung tilted his head. "What?"

She gave him a knowing side glance but kept her voice careful. "Well… everyone kinda thinks you and Minho are... you know."

He stared at her for a second, then exhaled through his nose with a half-smile. "Wow. Straight to the point."

"I mean, I'm not trying to assume!" she said quickly, hands up. "But you're always near each other. You know exactly what he's thinking all the time. You also sit like two inches apart for no reason. And I don't know if it's a thing, but…"

Jisung leaned back into one of the walls. "It's complicated."

Mia didn't push, just nodded and gave him a small smile. "Complicated's okay."

He looked at her, really looked. She was so at ease, looking through clothes like she hadn't just had her world flipped by joining a massive group and moving out of a dorm where no one celebrated her success. 

"You're handling all this better than I expected," he said quietly.

Mia glanced at him and shrugged. "You think so?"

"Yeah. Your whole world just shifted."

She paused for a second, then smiled. "Well… you guys have been very welcoming. Especially you. You're kinda my anchor in this whole situation." 

Jisung smiled back. "Favorite member privileges, I guess. Some would even say I'm your bias." 

Mia chuckled, amused by his smug tone. "You think you're my bias?" 

"Oh no, sorry. I forgot—Chan is your actual bias," he gasped dramatically.

Mia instantly blushed. "Stop it."

"I knew it!" Jisung exclaimed, pointing at her like he'd just won a game show. "I knew it was Chan! You should've seen your face just now—"

She groaned, covering her face with the pair of jeans she was holding. "It's not like that! I just... he's just my age, okay? The whole bias thing is still new to me. I still think it's a little weird if I bias someone younger than me."

Jisung couldn't stop laughing, nearly spilling his bubble tea. "This is so funny."

Mia just shook her head. 

"So..." he continued with a smirk, "that beanie you gave him."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"He hasn't taken it off for like… two days straight. Even slept in it, I bet."

Her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Jisung said. "We teased him about it and he just mumbled something about 'liking that one' and turned back to his laptop like he wasn't being a total softie."

Mia bit her lip, trying to hide the pleased smile tugging at her mouth. But it was useless—Jisung could read her like an open book.

Jisung watched her closely, his tone smug but soft. "Oh... You actually like him."

"No."

"No, but you're blushing. Look at you."

"I am not."

Jisung raised an eyebrow, expression far too knowing for Mia's comfort. She rolled her eyes, cheeks heating up more. 

God, he was so infuriating. And right. 

"You're so annoying," she muttered.

"And you're so obvious," Jisung teased, grinning. "But just so you know… He never sleeps, and when he does, he snores. Like, loud. He's always shirtless and then he wants to hug you like that, and it's so—"

"Jisung," Mia interrupted, lifting a brow. "Is that supposed to be bad?" 

She asked casually, but the mental image hit her before he could even answer. Chan, sleepy and warm, arms wrapped around someone with that impossibly soft look in his eyes. 

Jisung nodded dramatically, like the answer was obvious. "Yes."

"Well, it's not," she said flatly. "And it's not helping."

He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But seriously, I'm not saying you shouldn't like him—"

"I don't."

"Okay, whatever." His grin faded slightly, voice shifting into something more sincere. "But you shouldn't. Because he's our leader. And that'll make things complicated. Believe me, I know complicated—and it's not great."

Mia nodded, the weight in his tone not lost on her.

He was speaking from experience.

"I understand," she said gently. "You don't have to worry about that."

She hesitated for a moment.

"He's not my type," she added.

A lie. And a bad one.

But Jisung didn't push.

Then she threw her arm over his shoulders and gave him a teasing smile. "Maybe you should be my new bias."

That lit him up like a switch.

"Really?" he said, eyes wide with excitement.

"Don't make me regret it."

"Too late. I will tell everyone."

"Everyone but Minho," Mia said. "He's going to hate me even more now."

Jisung rolled his eyes. "I told you—he doesn't hate you."

Mia shook her head, sighing. "He's always two seconds away from committing arson whenever I'm near you."

Jisung blushed but tried to hide it behind a shrug. "He just gets like that sometimes. You'll get used to it."

"Just with you, though," she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "He doesn't care like that about anyone else."

"I told you… complicated ," Jisung muttered, voice low, like the word carried more weight than he could say outright.

Mia caught the shift in his tone and offered him a small, understanding smile. Whatever was going on between him and Minho was its own kind of tangled.

Jisung nudged her shoulder. "Maybe I should tell him you bias Chan. He'd calm down real quick."

She groaned immediately. "Jisung! Don't ."

He laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "What? It's technically true, isn't it?"

"Not in a way that needs to be shared with the entire group!" she hissed, cheeks already warming.

"I was just saying… could be helpful," he said, smug.

"You're the worst."

"And yet," he grinned, already walking ahead with a mock pride, "you still picked me as your bias."

She caught up to him and looped her arm through his. "Yeah, well. I might be reconsidering."

He gasped. "Wow. The betrayal."

She laughed, and so did he. The tension that had crept it melted away, replaced by warmth. That easy rhythm between them came rushing back, natural and comforting. Like they'd known each other forever, even if they hadn't. The jokes, the soft smiles, the way they understood when to tease and when to back off. 

It was easy. Familiar. 

Chapter Text

March 2022 

Five months later

The practice room smelled like a weird mix between Hyunjin’s latest cologne obsession, floor cleaner and, unfortunately, Changbin’s protein shake. He was standing up shaking the bottle, the thick liquid sloshing loudly. When he finally took a long gulp, the noise alone made Mia wince. 

She scrunched her nose. "Did something die and you decided to put it in a blender with milk? What's that smell ?"

Changbin took another sip and grinned proudly. "That's the smell of gains, Mia."

"What's in it?"

"Chicken," he said casually, taking another sip.

"Chicken?" She repeated like she couldn't believe him. "Like… blended chicken?"

"And oats. And other stuff."

Mia made a face. "I'm gonna throw up."

"Not until you try it," he said, eyes dancing with mischief.

She let out a horrified squeak as he started chasing her around the room, bottle in hand like a weapon. "CHANGBIN, NO!" she screamed. 

"You'll be stronger, faster… just one sip!"

"You'll be unconscious if you come near me with that!"

Their laughter echoed off the walls as the other members stared with mild amusement and zero intention of helping. Just as Changbin cornered her, the door swung open.

"Channie!" Mia bolted across the room. "Save me, please, Binnie is trying to make me drink his chicken milkshake!"

Chan, still slightly flushed from whatever meeting he'd just come from, barely had time to react before Mia ran into his arms. He caught her instinctively, arms wrapping around her, warm and secure.

From across the room, Changbin huffed. "That's not fair. If you run to your husband, obviously he's gonna be on your side."

"He's not my husband," Mia frowned, but half her face was still buried in Chan's chest.

Chan smirked, glancing down at her. "Maybe you should take a sip."

She gasped and pulled back just enough to stare at him, betrayed . And let him go. 

"Hey!" Minho clapped his hands, trying to get everyone's attention. Then said he was going to run the choreo again with Jisung, Jeongin and Felix before they all practiced together. 

Everyone nodded. Mia followed Chan as he made his way to the couch, dropping his bag beside it with a tired sigh.

"How was the meeting?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"It was fine," he mumbled. 

She tilted her head. "Did you fix everything? Like always?"

That made him chuckle. He sat down, stretching out his legs, and Mia stepped between them like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was. They were always like this… close, overlapping spaces, orbiting each other. Whispering things no one else could hear. Two centimeters from crossing the line between friends and… something else. 

"You look tired," she said gently, brushing the hair off his forehead before cupping his face. Her thumb ghosted under his eye. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

He looked up at her with guilt written all over his face. 

"Chris," she groaned, slightly pouting. "You have to sleep and eat properly. You’re not a machine. Your body needs rest."

His hand came up to hold her wrist, his palm felt warm against her skin and she didn't move. 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," he murmured. 

Across the room, Hyunjin blinked at the scene.

"Are we just not pretending anymore?" he asked, eyebrows arched as he turned to Seungmin and Changbin who were looking too. 

Changbin took a long sip of his shake. "Shhh. This is my favorite drama and I'm so invested in it."

"If you guys kiss, I'm gonna throw up on Changbin," Seungmin announced loudly.

Mia turned her head slowly, still standing between Chan's legs. Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, you're so dead."

"RUN," Hyunjin hissed to Seungmin, who didn't wait to be told twice.

Mia sprinted after him across the room as the rest of the boys dissolved into laughter.

Chan watched them go, a smile tugging at his lips. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his skin, the ghost of her touch lingering. He leaned back and just looked with his heart full of something he didn't dare to say. 

They practiced and practiced until they were all sweaty and exhausted, muscles burning and shirts clinging to their backs, but by the look on Minho and Chan's faces, it wasn't over. Not yet. Not until the moves were perfect. Not until everyone was in sync, not just in motion, but in mindset. That was the kind of excellence they demanded from themselves. It wasn't about perfection for the sake of image. It was about respect. For the craft, for the fans, for each other.

That's what made Mia so proud to be part of this team.

Debuting had been a frenzy. Equal parts of exciting, emotional and brutal. The announcement had shaken the fandom. Some fans were thrilled, curious, even protective. Others… not so much. She still remembered the first time her name trended. She wasn't allowed to read comments anymore. She couldn't even search her own name. It had been emotionally draining at first. But the guys, with their warmth and open arms, had helped her find balance. A place. A home. 

Mia always loved the idea of found families in books, and now, she had one of her own. She shared a special bond with each of the boys, not just Jisung or Chan. Even Minho had started to open up to her little by little, probably by Jisung's fault, since they were always together. Mia had grown used to Minho quietly tagging along when they went shopping or out for boba, silently judging every time she said something ridiculous only Jisung would understand and laugh to. 

Jeongin and Seungmin loved having a third vocal in the group. In Changbin's words, it wasn't like they needed one, but adding Mia had been “such a good decision”. Their voices blended beautifully, and their energy onstage felt more complete. Seungmin was a menace, always teasing, but Mia could keep up with him. And Jeongin… he was the best little brother she didn't know she needed. He also had the best fashion advice anyone could ask for. 

With Felix, she practiced Korean all the time. Mia could speak it, but reading and writing… Sometimes it was still a challenge. And whenever it started to feel overwhelming, Felix was always there, calm and patient, to help her through it. After Jisung, he was the closest to her. 

Hyunjin and Mia bonded through art. One day after practice, he'd glanced over her shoulder and noticed the doodles on her iPad. The next day, he showed up with his own sketchbook and sat beside her, drawing until practice started. He encouraged her to keep going, to make time for her hobbies, to create things that had nothing to do with rehearsals or cameras or being perfect. You need something that's just yours, he told her once, to remind you that you're more than all this. In a world that constantly demanded pieces of her, Hyunjin helped her protect a few of them to herself. 

Changbin was her unexpected safe place. He was loud, commanding, competitive and full of jokes, but with Mia, he was very attentive. He always made sure she wasn't overworking herself, that she was eating well and staying hydrated. Sometimes, he'd hand her a protein bar during practice, claiming it would "make her strong enough to survive the next comeback schedule". Mia genuinely thought he was brilliant. Not just in the studio, but in the way he always seemed to know what needed to be done and how to do it. He was goal-driven, relentlessly focused, and incredibly smart, and that was something Mia admired deeply. 

With Jisung, everything had always been easy. Natural. He had a way of making her laugh even on the worst days, turning panic into giggles and pressure into something lighter. He understood her in ways that didn't always need words. He was chaotic and dramatic, yes, but he was also one of the most emotionally intelligent people she had ever met. He could always tell when something was off with her, even before she could admit it to herself. Mia also believed what everyone else said: Jisung was the ace of the 4th generation. A music genius, through and through. She had seen it happen, how he could sit in front of his laptop or a piece of paper and write entire songs in minutes like it was second nature. Verses, melodies, harmonies… like they just lived in his head waiting to come out. He was brilliant, deep-feeling, sharp-witted, and far more grounded than he let on. Jisung was her best friend. Her constant. The person who could pull her out of her head and bring her back to herself without even trying. 

And Chan. Mia and Chan had a bond that not even they could explain. It was in the small things. The quiet moments. The way she could stay with him in the studio for hours, not saying a word, and somehow still be exactly what he needed. The way he always paused for her, always looked up when she spoke. He was her leader, yes, but their connection had started to shift into something more. Something softer. Safer. He was a shoulder she could lean on, but more than that, he knew when to lean on her too. She'd nudge him until he drank water, remind him to eat, to rest. He'd smile, almost sheepish, and promise he would. She didn't know if he ever really kept those promises, but she never stopped trying. 

And sometimes, their bond felt like more. There were moments when the air between them felt charged, like they were toeing the edge of the line neither dared to cross. A lingering touch here, a look that lasted a second too long there. Late-night conversations talking about everything and nothing at the same time. No one ever said it out loud, but everyone saw it. And Mia... she didn't know what it was or what it meant. 

What she did know was how much she admired him. His resilience, the way he carried not only the weight of his own expectations but also the dreams of the other seven boys, and now hers too. He worked harder than anyone she'd ever met, but still made space for every single person in the room. He was sharp, selfless, endlessly creative, a problem-solver, a perfectionist in the best way possible. He just wanted the best out of himself and everyone he believed in. 

There were still things she didn't understand about him. Still walls he kept up, parts of himself he didn't share but she didn't mind. Whatever he gave, she held carefully. Because at the end of the day, no matter how confusing or complicated it got, Mia trusted him. 

Mia had gone from being an only child, to being the oldest sister in the dorm, to having eight incredible best friends and brothers. They were loud, overwhelming, messy… and they were hers. They made space for her. They showed up for her. She didn’t have to fight to belong. She already did.

Now, she sat on the floor next to Felix, her back against the wall. Jisung was sprawled out with his head in her lap, making groaning noises like he was dying. She absentmindedly carded her fingers through his damp hair. You'd think she'd find it gross since he was covered in sweat, but she was used to it now. The sweat, the groans, the playful banter, the closeness. 

Chan walked by, handing them bottles of water, his own shirt sticking to him with sweat. He gave Mia a soft, tired smile before heading over to the staff corner, crouching beside Minho to watch the playback of their last run-through.

"Why do you always look at him like that?" Felix asked suddenly, tilting his head toward her.

Mia blinked. "Like what?"

"Like he hung up the stars in the sky," Jisung chimed in, eyes still closed.

Felix grinned. "And invented coffee on the same day."

She let out a soft chuckle. "I don't do that." Then she added, "I look at all of you the same way."

"That's not true," Felix said without missing a beat.

"It is. You're all just too busy to notice. You only notice when I look at Chan because you think there's something else," she said rolling her eyes.

Jisung cracked one eye open. "And there's not?"

She shook her head, a little firmer this time. "There is not."

Felix leaned forward slightly, smirking. "Does he know there's nothing going on?"

“What does that mean?” Mia frowned.

"He’s protective of all of us," Felix said carefully, "but he's extra protective of you."

She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "It's just because of all the stuff that happened online."

"Partly," Jisung murmured.

"He's just a good leader. Stop it." Mia groaned, rolling her eyes again.

Felix chuckled and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Let me show you something."

"Don't make him mad," Mia warned immediately. "Or tease him. He looks exhausted already."

"It's harmless," Felix said, waving her off. "Trust me."

Jisung sat up. "What are you planning?"

Felix didn't answer. He stood, walked over to his bag, and pulled out a clean white shirt, then returned with it, holding it out to Mia with a mischievous grin.

She stared at it. "I'm not that sweaty. And I have my own clean clothes in my bag."

Jisung just had to glance at Felix's face to know what he was thinking. He shook his head. "It's not for the sweat."

"You always wear his hoodie, or his shirt," Felix added, eyes glinting. "Not anyone else's. Just his. So he's used to seeing you in his clothes. But this… this will mess with him a little."

Mia scoffed. "I swear you two share the same brain cell. No joke why you were born 24 hours apart."

"Maybe," Felix shrugged. "Just do it. Watch what happens."

She grabbed the shirt with a groan. "You guys are ridiculous. But fine. I'm going to prove it's all in your head."

It was not in their heads.

Mia walked back into the practice room a few minutes later wearing Felix's shirt tied loosely at the side. She barely made it ten steps before Chan turned around, his attention immediately drawn to her like it always was, but this time, his gaze lingered.

His brows lifted slightly, like his brain short-circuited for a second. His eyes focusing on the oversized shirt, recognition flickering across his face. That wasn't his shirt.

Felix smirked knowingly. Jisung bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Chan blinked once, then turned back to the screen quickly, but it was too late. She'd seen it. 

After that, practice was chaos.

Felix and Jeongin kept messing up the ending pose on purpose. Hyunjin was dramatically throwing himself on the floor every time they finished the routine, like he was being mortally wounded by the choreography. Chan was so distracted by Mia wearing Felix's shirt he kept messing too. He couldn't stop staring and everyone noticed. 

Every time they paused or finished the routine, his eyes would fly to her, and then he'd pretend nothing happened. And every time, someone would nudge Mia and say something like "Leader-nim's staring again."

Even Minho joined in once, nodding seriously: "It's inspiring, really. The way you two orbit each other."

"I'm gonna orbit my foot into your—" Chan muttered.

Mia was laughing, flushed and breathless from dancing. "Guys, leave him alone."

"We're not teasing him," Jisung said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "We're teasing you. He's just collateral damage."

"You are all so annoying," Chan groaned, dragging a towel over his face.

Mia just laughed again. She always laughed.

Later, when practice ended and the others were leaving, Chan lingered by the speaker.

Mia waited for him at the door. "You still need me?"

"Yeah. Just for the vocal layering on one of the tracks. Shouldn’t take long."

They walked back to the studio together. 

Mia was still smiling as she pulled her mic over. The safeness of the cabin made her brave enough to tease him. "So… Are we orbiting, or... is it a full-blown gravitational collapse?"

Chan snorted, rolling his eyes but never meeting hers. "You're enjoying this way too much."

She sang her part perfectly in two takes. They layered it in, fixed the mix, and wrapped faster than either expected.

When it was done, Chan leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head as she walked out of the recording cabin. "Told you it wouldn't take long."

"Are you gonna stay longer? Mia asked as she moved towards the sofa to sit, Chan replied with a hum. "Can I stay for a bit?"

He looked over at her, soft around the edges. "Yeah. Of course."

She stretched out her legs on the couch, scrolling through her phone while he worked. She didn't have to stay, but she wanted to. Just to make sure Chan didn't stay too late again. The studio was quiet. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It never was. 

Every so often, she'd hold up her screen and ask his opinion on something, and no matter how deep into the track he was, Chan always took a moment to look, really look, and give her an answer.

That small habit never failed to make Mia smile.

"Do you like these jeans?" she asked, holding up her phone.

Chan turned his head to glance at it. "For the tour?" She nodded. "They look cool."

Mia sighed. "I know… I just don't know if they'll fit. Their size chart is so weird, I can't figure it out," she paused, scrunching her nose as she added the jeans to the cart, and then added: "I hate online shopping."

Chan chuckled, turning back to his laptop. "Why don't you go to the mall, then?"

"I'm still scared someone will yell at me again." Mia said quietly, like it was nothing, it wasn’t meant to be a reminder of what had happened before. Still, Chan's jaw tightened.

He didn't respond right away, just stared at the screen in front of him as his fingers stilled on the keyboard.

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked finally.

Mia blinked, surprised, sitting up straighter. "You? Christopher Bahng? Going shopping? Going to a mall?"

He turned in his chair, then shrugged. "If you want to go with someone else, Ji could—"

"No," she cut in quickly. "I wanna go with you."

She smiled to herself, warm and honest. "For my birthday next week?"

His expression was soft. "Sounds perfect. Just remind me."

Mia cheered, kicking her feet. "I will! It's going to be so much fun!"

Chan chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the track. But there was a small smile tugging at his lips now.

***

They went shopping on Mia's birthday, just like they had planned.

Chan tried to pay for everything, like everything, but Mia didn't let him. Not completely, at least. He was stubborn, kept trying to slip his card in before the cashier could blink, but Mia was quicker. Still, she let him buy her a couple earrings he insisted matched her hair and a pair of jeans she hesitated over for ten minutes. 

Afterward, they went to dinner. It didn't feel like a date exactly, but it was just the two of them. Tucked into a quiet booth, laughing over shared plates and too many side dishes. It wasn't romantic. But it also… was.

Mia was happy. Chan was in a good mood, some could even say he was relaxed. It was a rare state that only happened once or twice when he wasn't overthinking or stressed over everything. 

Back at the dorms, Jisung told Felix he didn't want anyone to get hurt. "This could get messy," he said. But Felix just shook his head.

"Let them figure it out."

APRIL 2022

A couple weeks later 

They were backstage at Music Bank, waiting for their call. Mia was scanning the hallway for Jisung and Minho, both had the habit of disappearing, and they were nowhere to be found. She turned a corner, and that's when she saw Chan.

He was leaning casually against the doorframe, talking to a girl idol Mia didn't recognize, she was very pretty and impossibly skinny. Mia slowed her steps.

Chan's posture made something twist in her chest, his head was tilted slightly, a  relaxed, soft smile adorning his lips. She didn't even register what was happening before she was walking over, and then she was right beside him. 

"Channie," she said, a little too brightly for some reason, "have you seen Jisung or Minho?" No reaction. "Chan?" Mia repeated, a beat more serious now.

He turned to look at her, almost like he hadn't heard the first time. "Yeah, no—I haven't seen them,” he said quickly, distracted.

Mia glanced at the girl, who was watching her with the kind of half-smile that wasn't really a smile. The girl's tone was syrupy sweet when she turned back to Chan. "Oppa, you won't believe what happened next…"

Oppa. Mia nearly gagged. It was something she was used to, she even called some guys oppa because that’s how it was supposed to be and had heard girls call the guys oppa before. Chaeryeong called Changbin oppa all the time. But this time it was different, it felt different. 

She didn't know why she was still standing there. Maybe she expected him to introduce her, like he always did, but he didn't. He just gave her a quick look, one that clearly said: Are you still here?

Mia swallowed her pride. "I'll keep looking for them," she said with her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Let me know if you see them."

"Mm," was all she got from him before he turned back to the girl.

She went back to the dressing room and she sat down hard, arms crossed. She tried scrolling through her phone, but it was obvious she wasn't paying attention. Her mind was still there in the hallway, standing next to Chan and feeling invisible. 

Felix plopped down next to her. "Why are you frowning?"

"Huh?" Mia blinked, then quickly relaxed her face. "I wasn't." Felix gave her a look. "I was just… thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

She hesitated. "I was looking for Minho and Han and I saw Chan talking to this girl…"

"Oh," Felix’s voice was unreadable, but there was a small smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. 

"He was acting so weird," she continued.

"Weird how?" Felix insisted. 

"I don't know," she shrugged, voice still quiet. "He had this weird smile and was leaning into the door… Like… I don't even know," she sighed "and then I had to call him twice before he looked at me." She was frowning now, she stood up before launching into full rant mode. "He acted like I wasn't even there! Gave me two or three-word answers, all distracted. He didn't even introduce me to her," she groaned, pacing now. "Oh! And by the way, she called him oppa." 

Felix looked up at her with a funny expression. "She called him oppa?"

"Yes!" Mia rolled her eyes dramatically.

"He was flirting," Felix said plainly. Like it wasn't a big deal. Which wasn't. But Mia had never seen Chan flirt with a girl before. Or act the way he did. 

Mia shrugged, defensive. "I guess? I don't know. It was just... weird."

He just nodded, thoughtful. "Who was it?"

"I don't know. A girl from AESPA I think?"

"He gets like that sometimes," Felix said, gently tugging at her hand so she'd sit back down. "You've never seen it before, huh?"

"Apparently not." Mia frowned deeper, sinking into the couch. "It's just… he never ignored me like that before and I thought..." she made a pause "Nevermind." She shook her head.

"Yeah," Felix sighed. "It was worse with Soyeon. I'm just glad it's not her again."

"What happened with them?"

"A lot of toxic shit," he said bluntly. "He made some questionable choices. Didn't realize what was happening until it was too late."

Mia looked down at her hands. "He made me feel like… like I wasn't special, like we were not close anymore."

Felix nodded slowly, searching for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You are special. But one of Chan's biggest flaws is that he wants everyone to like him. Everyone. And when he chases that, sometimes he forgets the people who are already in his life."

Mia scoffed. "He's still a guy, I guess."

"We're all guys," Felix chuckled.

"Yeah," she grumbled. "But he's the worst of them all because he's a Libra."

"I have no idea what that means," Felix said, smiling. "But sure."

"Whatever. He's still a good leader," Mia said. Trying to convince herself more than Felix. "Even if he gets a little assholish when there's a pretty girl around."

Felix blinked. "You just called him an asshole."

"So?"

"Coming from you? Shocking," he teased.

"Shut up," Mia said, rolling her eyes, though her smile was creeping back.

She said it was fine. Because it should be fine. 

That was just one of her members flirting with a girl. She didn't react that way when it was Changbin or Hyunjin. But Chan wasn't like Changbin or Hyunjin to her.

Still, she tried to convince herself it was nothing. That she was overthinking. That her reaction was over the top. But when Chan came back into the room, she couldn't stop squinting at him. Couldn't help the way her arms crossed tighter when he laughed like nothing had happened. She moved away when he went to sit beside her, pretending to check her phone, pretending she had a text to reply to. She dodged his jokes, gave him polite smiles that never reached her eyes.

And Chan... he noticed. He was confused and it showed. But Mia wasn't ready to explain. Because she couldn't even explain it to herself.

Deep down, though... she knew. She was just not ready to admit it. 

***

Mia was avoiding him. Chan knew that.

She hadn't said anything openly, but it had been a few days now without her stopping by the studio after she was done with her classes or staying over after they were done with her parts. Days without her usual texts asking what he was working on, if he had eaten or if he wanted food. The times his eyes catched hers she smiled, but it was never really a smile. 

Everyone else seemed to know exactly what was going on, except for him. Which only made things worse.

He tried asking her directly once, like he wasn't drowning in his thoughts, but she just gave him a soft "I'm fine" and changed the subject.

So he cornered Jisung first and that got him nowhere. Best friends were annoyingly loyal.

Then he went to Felix.

And Felix: cornered, tired, and, apparently, over hearing evermore on loop, finally gave in. "You were flirting with a girl at Music Bank and ignored Mia and it made her feel like she didn't matter," he said, arms crossed. "She didn't say anything because… Well, she didn't want to intrude, but yeah. You were a little rude so please fix it. I like Taylor Swift but it's too much."

That was how Chan found himself outside Mia's bedroom that night, armed with cheesecake, pudding, her favorite drink and an assortment of her favorite snacks. He handed his card to Seungmin and Jeongin, told them to go get dinner or whatever they wanted and not to ask questions or come back in at least two hours. He gave Felix a pleading look before he left with them. 

Felix just gave him a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile. "Try to not make it worse."

Chan let out a sigh before knocking on her door.

"Now you knock?" Mia chuckled, her voice floated through the door. "Just come in."

He pushed the door open carefully.

She was sitting at her desk, doodling absently on her iPad. She looked back at him when he didn't say anything right away.

"Oh. It's you," she said, turning back to her drawing. 

"Yeah, me," Chan said simply. 

"Everyone left," Mia continued without looking at him but he noticed the pen stopped moving. 

"I know," he murmured, stepping closer. "I just wanted to talk to you for a minute and give you this," he held out the bag as Mia turned around in her chair. 

She raised a brow. "What's this? What do you want to talk about?" She took the bag and put it down on her desk along with her iPad. "Am I in trouble? It was Jisung's idea. Wait, no—It was Changbin's."

Chan chuckled and shook his head. "You're not in trouble," he said, "maybe they are." 

"There's fluffy cheesecake," he offered, signing towards the bag. "And pudding, and snacks and your favorite drink."

She squinted at him suspiciously. "So… bribery?" She asked. "Whatever they did I actually don't know whose idea it was."

"It's an apology," he said simply. "I want to talk about what happened at Music Bank." 

Mia blinked. Chan sat on the edge of her bed, she turned around to grab the cheesecake container and looked through the bag for a spoon. Once she found it, she spoke again. "What happened at Music Bank?" She said with her eyes still on the dessert. "I'm not following."

He didn't like the way her eyes were not meeting his and the way she was not acknowledging the situation, acting as if nothing had happened when it was obvious something was bothering her. 

"I didn't mean to make you feel… ignored. Or unimportant," Chan said quietly, he didn’t have to clarify what he was talking about. Both of them knew.  

"You were rude," she mumbled. Still not looking at him. 

"I know," he sighed "and I'm sorry."

The whole situation felt weird. He had argued with other members before, said stupid things and ignored each other for days, but this felt different. It felt wrong. There was this uncomfortable pressure in his chest, it felt like guilt or something else that Chan couldn't decipher yet.  

"I don't know what happened," he continued, "I was distracted. Didn't pay attention to how I was acting or how I was responding to you."

Mia chuckled, or mocked him. He didn't know. "Because she was pretty."

"Jiah," Chan said, more serious now. That made her look up, he never used her korean name unless he was angry or wanted her to really pay attention. "I'm serious," he stated the obvious. "I didn't like the way I made you feel and I didn't like how everybody knew how you felt except for me," his eyebrows furrowed together "You're special to me."

Her face softened, her heart was beating really fast in her chest and there was that buzzy feeling in her stomach, the same feeling she felt when they were having dinner on her birthday. 

She opened her mouth to say something but Chan continued talking. "You and the members are special to me," he corrected and Mia still smiled, her heart beat going back to normal. "I don't want any of you to feel like you don't matter. Because you all do. Maybe I didn't pick you like I did with the rest of them, but I did fight for you. To have you in our team. If I ever make you feel like that again, I want you to tell me. You can trust me."

Mia looked at him for a long moment before sighing. "I know, you're a good and reliable leader, Chan. Even if you get a little dumb around pretty girls."

Chan frowned. "That's not—"

"It is," she interrupted, but her voice was playful now. "But I get it. It's okay."

"So you forgive me?" He asked. 

Mia nodded. "Yeah, I already said it's okay."

"And that's it?"

She tilted her head, confused. "What do you want me to say?"

Chan shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe why you didn't tell me?"

Mia scrunched up her nose. "I just felt weird, I guess."

"You guess?" 

"Christopher," she sighed. Chan leaned in. "This was awfully sentimental enough. It's only Thursday."

"Awfully sentimental?"

Mia nodded. "You're a softie."

"No, I'm not," he scoffed. 

"Yes, you are," Mia teased with a smile. "But we love you like that."

He squinted his eyes, but said nothing. 

"Do you want to watch something in the living room?" Mia asked, taking a spoonful of cheesecake. "We can finish all this together."

"Sure," Chan nodded and grabbed the bag off her desk. 

He started to walk out the room with Mia following him behind when he stopped and turned around, Mia almost collapsing with his chest. "Oh, and for the record," he looked at her, Mia noticed how close he was. "I'm always around one pretty girl and people say I'm a music genius."

She blinked, her face flushing immediately. 

Then he smiled, triumphant. "What should we watch?" Chan asked, turning around and continuing walking. Mia just stayed there for a moment, feeling speechless. The fuzzy feeling in her stomach came back but ten times worse, she only moved when she heard him calling her from the couch. 

When the boys came back to the dorm an hour later Felix sighed with relief and went straight to sit next to Mia on the couch, squeezing her hand gently and she smiled in return. 

Seungmin snapped a picture of the scene and sent it to a group chat with the name “Mom and dad are fighting” and typed:

Back to the regular program

Jisung: fucking finally !!! 

Changbin: they're still in denial or…? 

Jeongin: I think they are 

Jisung: just give them a little more time guys

Jeongin: if he starts writing love songs please warn me 

Changbin: Will do 

Minho: you all need to get a life 

Next to Mia Felix was chuckling at the interaction between them and she noticed it, he blocked his phone as soon as he felt her eyes on her. 

"What was that?" She asked. 

Felix shook his head. "Nothing, just my sisters."

"Tell them I said hi," Mia said cheerfully. He simply nodded. 

On the other side of the couch, Chan found Mia's hand and had been holding it on for a while. He felt at peace again, but the weird feeling on his chest didn't go away, at least not fully. This time felt different, he felt warm and hopeful. A little voice inside his head kept whispering a four letter word, but it couldn't be. He was just relieved, he thought. 

Neither of them wanted to acknowledge what was happening between them. But it was there. In the way they found each other's presence naturally, in the way they always stood too close, cared too much. 

Mia had come to terms with it quietly, without saying a word. She liked him. That was it. No dramatic realization. No meltdown. Just quiet certainty.

Chan, on the other hand, hadn't let himself think about it too hard. If he did, he might not know how to act around her anymore, or around the members. So he pushed the thought far deep inside his head and stayed in denial. But his hands still found hers too easily. His eyes still softened when he looked at her. And the songs he wrote, let's just say Changbin had to warn Jeongin about them sooner than they had expected. 

Chapter Text

By the end of April, they went on tour. The MANIAC world tour kicked off in Seoul, and the energy was unreal. It was clear the group had gained popularity since their last tour, and it showed on the demands of this one. Everything felt bigger, the venues, the production, the pressure but also the joy. This time, they weren't just performers, they had helped build the show. From setlists to stage transitions to outfits, the tour had their signature all over it, and it made every step on the stage feel more personal. 

For Mia, everything was new. It was her first time flying across countries to perform in front of fans who knew her name, who held pickets with her face, who recognized her instantly. Her heart swelled with every crowd, every scream when her part came on, every small moment of recognition. She had worked hard, they all had, but Mia had poured herself into this: the vocals, the choreography, stage presence, fan interactions. In every little thing, she chased perfection. 

The rest of the group was not different from her, each chasing perfection in their own way. They were more in sync now, just one quick look from a member on stage, and everyone instantly knew what was going on. Whether they were doing well, had messed up, or needed a break, water, or anything else, it was understood without words. Stray Kids with nine members had been the best decision they'd ever made as a group. Everyone felt it, not just them, not just the company, but STAY as well. Jisung liked to joke that it was all thanks to him, and while he meant it as a joke, they all knew it wasn't entirely untrue. Chan always gave him the credit anyway.  

The way Christopher Bahng talked about Mia still gave her butterflies. Every. Single. Time.  It didn't matter if he was introducing her to someone, bragging about her hard work in rehearsals, or simply bringing her up casually. His voice always softened, just a fraction and she always noticed. 

Things between them had slowly returned to normal, if "normal" meant being magnetized to each other without even trying. She didn't have to think about it, she just found herself next to him, or he found himself next to her.  They still held hands in the back of the van when they thought no one was looking. (No one needed to look, they knew Chan and Mia were holding hands). They still teased and flirted without care, and the members teased them constantly for it, whispering jokes or straight up calling them out when they thought the two were too close for “just friends”. 

Chan, being the responsible leader he was, still lived in full denial. He'd shake his head, roll his eyes, and say things like, “Mia and I are just close”, “Don’t start” and “That’s not what this is”. But he never pulled away. Not fully. 

And each time Mia would just laugh, like it didn’t bother her, like it didn’t matter. But only Jisung knew the truth about how she really felt, how deeply it ran and how much she'd been holding back. Sometimes, he'd wondered if she was walking straight into heartbreak, if they both were. And yet, he never told her to stop. Because he knew what Chan meant to her, and he'd seen firsthand what their bond had become. Something unspoken, dangerous and beautiful, balanced on a line neither of them dared to cross. 

Amid the packed schedules, neon lights, and cities blurring together, a quiet tension started to grow between two people who were supposed to be “just friends.”

And then, everything began to slowly shift.

They were in Japan, the last night of their shows there. Everything had gone amazingly well, the crowd, the energy, their Japanese versions of the songs. All of it felt surreal. 

Well, almost. 

Mia had messed up during one of the songs, coming in late on a line. And the members noticed immediately and turned it into a joke, teasing her playfully during one of the ments. It didn’t feel like a failure, just a silly human moment. And Mia had laughed along with them, sticking her tongue out at Seungmin when he mimicked her mistake on stage. 

Now they were back at the hotel, packed into Changbin’s room. Dinner had ended a while ago, but no one wanted to sleep yet. The adrenaline from the stage was still pulsing through them, and since they couldn’t go out, the safety of their hotel room would have to do. 

Several bottles of sake, wine, and beer sat scattered around the table, half-finished and surrounded by empty snack bags.

Changbin and Minho were glued to the TV, locked in a heated videogame, with Jeongin next to them, being loud and annoying on purpose, trying to make one of them lose so he could finally get a turn. Seungmin was lying on the bed watching a re-run of a baseball game on his phone. Chan was at the dining table with his laptop open as always, headphones hanging around his neck. He was half listening, half pretending to work, mostly watching everyone else from a distance.

Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Mia were by far the drunkest of them all.

Mia sat on the edge of the sofa, laughing freely, her cheeks flushed and warm. Hyunjin had somehow ended up sprawled across the couch with his head on her lap. Felix was curled into a chair next to them, sipping on a drink. Jisung was on the floor, legs sprawled and eyes glassy. The game they were playing had become a strange mix of 20 Questions, Truth or Dare, and Who’s Most Likely To. No real rules, just chaos.

“Truth or dare?” Hyunjin asked while he stared at the ceiling.

“Truth,” Mia and Jisung answered at the same time.

Hyunjin paused for a second, then smirked. “Okay. If you had to kiss someone in the group, who would it be?”

Before they could speak, he added, “And you can’t pick Minho, Changbin or Chan.”

Jisung made a dramatic groan. “Then I can’t say anything. A cat is watching.” He gestured subtly toward Minho, who was currently squinting at them from his seat, having clearly tuned into their conversation.

“That’s not fair,” Mia said, eyes still slightly glazed. “Then it’s just the four of us, Seungmin or Jeongin.”

“Don’t drag me into your nonsense,” Seungmin said from the bed. 

“See?” Mia rolled her eyes, then pointed toward the youngest member, who looked up from where he was now actively trying to steal a controller from Minho. “That’s baby bread,” she added, giggling.

“Hey!” Jeongin protested from across the room, but no one acknowledged him.

“I’d kiss you,” Hyunjin said casually, now staring at Mia. 

Mia blinked, a lazy smile on her lips. “Me?” She arched an eyebrow.

And suddenly, it was like the whole room slowed down.

Felix choked on his drink, trying to play it off with a cough, Jiisung’s eyebrows furrowed together, not angry, just confused. Mia was smiling, but she couldn’t stop blinking. From the table, Chan paused. His fingers hovered over his keyboard, but he wasn’t typing, he stared at the screen like he was still working, but his mind was blank. A strange tightness crept up into his chest. Not jealousy, just... something .

“Wait, I’d kiss Mia too,” Felix agreed casually. 

“Me too,” Jisung added with a nod.

Mia scrunched up her nose, laughing as she looked at the three of them. “Wait. What? Why?”

Hyunjin shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You look like a good kisser. Your lips are like... so perfect.”

Felix leaned forward from his chair, pointing at her with a lazy grin. “You’ve got those soft movie kiss lips.”

“And you smell good all the time,” Jisung added, humming thoughtfully. “That definitely adds points.”

Mia tilted her head, her smile turning sly as she teased, “Should we all kiss now, then?”

That sent Hyunjin straight up, full of excitement. “Me first!”

“No kissing,” Chan said sharply from across the room.

Everyone froze. Heads turned toward him in surprise, even Seungmin was sitting up. He wasn’t even looking at them, his gaze was still fixed on his laptop, but his voice had cut through the noise so cleanly it stunned the room into silence.

Mia pouted dramatically. “Why not?”

Chan finally looked up, his expression was hard to read, eyes flicking from Mia to the guys around her.

“Because…” he started, then hesitated. “This is getting out of hand.”

No one said anything for a moment. Mia leaned back against the couch, eyebrows raised, a teasing smile formed on her lips. Jisung exchanged a glance with Felix while Hyunjin leaned back into the cushions. 

Chan went back to staring at his laptop screen, pretending to be busy, but his chest felt tight. He didn’t like the sound of their voices when they talked about her like that. He didn’t like how easily she smiled at them. He didn’t like the way her lips curved when she was being flirted with by anyone that wasn’t him. And he really didn’t like the way she was looking at Hyunjin now. 

Hyunjin scoffed. “Felix and I have kissed before!”

Felix nodded in agreement. “We have.”

“Not the point,” Chan muttered under his breath.

“And Hyunjin has kissed Jeongin too,” Mia added with a grin.

Jeongin turned around slowly, squinting at them. “I was doing it for science,” he said through gritted teeth. “I needed to see something.”

The whole room burst into laughter.

Jisung pointed at Minho. “And Minho and I have kissed. Like, a lot.”

Minho didn’t even blink. “Because you're annoying and don’t shut up unless I kiss you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jisung crossed his arms, frowning.

Mia threw her arms up. “See? Everyone’s kissed everyone! I wanna kiss Hyunjin! And Felix! And Han—”

“You can kiss them,” Minho said casually, “but not Jisungie.”

“Hey!” Jisung looked personally offended. “Why not me?!”

“Because you’re my Jisungie,” Minho replied, deadpan. And Jisung just blushed. 

Hyunjin was already leaning forward toward Mia, eyes half lidded and playful. “Okay, okay, okay—quick kiss. Just one—”

Before he could get any closer, Chan was already behind them. He stepped in quickly, his hand wrapping around Hyunjin’s elbow, gently but firmly pulling him back.

“Nope,” he said. “Let’s call it a night. Everyone, head to your rooms.”

“But—”

“You’re all too drunk, and this is turning into a very weird bonding moment,” Chan added, glancing around with a tight expression.

Felix pouted. “We are just trying to be affectionate…”

“Too affectionate,” Chan muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s go. Mia, Felix, come on.”

As the rest of the group gathered their things, Chan hurried them along. Mia and Felix were always his responsibility, it was an unspoken thing within the group. Some might call it favoritism, but the truth was he had a soft spot for both of them. 

Mia stumbled slightly as she stood, and Felix reached out to steady her. She grabbed his arm, hugging it with a giggle.

“This doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you guys later,” she warned with a teasing smile.

They all laughed again, except Chan. He groaned, shaking his head in defeat as he watched her cling to Felix’s arm, laughter spilling from her lips like she hadn’t just twisted something in his chest without even trying.

The elevator ride was slow.

Mia swayed slightly on her feet, whispering something to Felix, the two of them giggling like Chan wasn’t standing right behind them. He had one hand hovering near her back, not touching, but there if she needed it. Or if Felix did.

They stopped at Felix’s door first. The lights flicked on. Mia flopped onto the bed while Chan walked Felix to the bathroom so he could get ready for bed.

“Can I stay here?” Mia called from the bedroom.

“Can she?” Felix echoed with a hopeful smile.

“No,” Chan replied flatly.

Felix leaned in, whispering, “I see what you're doing, Christopher. You wanna kiss her first.”

Chan just shook his head. He’s drunk, he reminded himself.

After Felix insisted he could finish getting ready alone, Chan went back to the bedroom. Mia was lying on the bed now, limbs spread dramatically.

“Let’s go,” Chan said, tone soft but firm. “You’re not staying here.”

“You’re no fun,” Mia sighed as she got up, wobbling slightly.

They walked down the hall in silence. When they reached her door, Mia fumbled with the key card until Chan gently took it from her and unlocked her door. She wandered inside and toward the bathroom, hopping up to sit on the counter. She groaned as she struggled with her shoelaces.

Chan squatted down in front of her to help.

“Why can’t I kiss them?” she asked, giggling. “Is it because you wanna kiss them too?”

Chan blinked. “Excuse me?”

Mia smiled, mischief in her eyes. “You and Felix are so close. Are you sure you haven’t kissed him?”

Chan rolled his eyes, standing up once he was done and reaching for her things and finding her makeup wipes. He handed them to her. “Felix and I are just close.”

“Or is it Hyunjin?” Mia continued. “Oh my God, I bet Hyunjin and you kissing would be so hot. You should totally kiss Hyunjin.”

Chan let out a long, slow breath as he gently tilted her chin up. She hadn’t moved to take off her makeup, so he started wiping it away for her.

“What is it with you and kissing tonight? Are you reading fanfics again?”

“Always, but that’s not it.” Mia sighed, dramatic and genuine. “I just haven’t kissed anyone in so long.”

Chan raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he carefully wiped the last of her mascara away.

She squinted at him. “Who would you kiss in the group?”

He froze for a second, then he shrugged, casual. “No one.”

Mia narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t that drunk. “You want to kiss someone.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing.”

She leaned in, her smile dangerous. “So you do wanna kiss the boys. I knew it.”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not the boys exactly…” he muttered while she stared at the mirror, pretty sure she wasn’t listening.

But she heard. Her tone softened. “Then who?”

He glanced at her, and this time, his eyes lingered, they dropped to her lips and stayed there way too long.

Mia’s breath hitched. “...Oooooohhh.”

Silence. Thick. And awkward.

Chan cleared his throat. “You should change. I’ll go now.”

“Wait,” she called just as he walked out of the bathroom and turned toward the door. He paused. “Will you tuck me in?” She smiled, and he couldn’t say no.

He grabbed the plushie Mia always brought with her and sat down on the couch across the room, groaning quietly as he leaned back and closed his eyes. What am I doing?

A few minutes later, she reappeared, fresh faced and wearing one of his old hoodies. Chan looked up and wanted to scream. She looked like comfort and trouble and home all at once. Mia padded across the room and flopped onto the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Chan got up, walking over to her like a man heading toward danger, plushie in hand. He tucked her in, smoothing the edge of the comforter.

Mia tilted her head. “We should totally kiss.”

Chan froze. “What?”

She grinned, innocent and not at all. “I mean, if you wanna.”

He stared at her and she stared back. The air between them felt electric, ridiculous, and a little bit dangerous.

Chan dragged a hand down his face. “JiAh, go to sleep.”

“But we could just—”

“Good night,” he said firmly, handing the plushie to her.

She giggled as he turned off the lights and walked out, the door clicking softly behind him.

The moment mostly passed, but the energy lingered. Quiet and heavy. And Chan didn’t stop thinking about it all night.

The next morning, Chan and Mia were keeping their distance.

Mia was mortified over the things she’d said to him the night before, while Chan was stuck in his own head, embarrassed for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t stop replaying the urge to kiss her, the way he almost slipped.

The whole group gathered for breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant. Mia slid into her chair, sinking low like she could disappear into the furniture. The second she saw Chan walk in, she quickly lowered her sunglasses over her eyes and pulled her hoodie up.

Chan greeted everyone with a tired smile. He was barefaced, hair a little messy, just classic sleepless Chan. Except this time, it wasn’t work who kept him awake. There was an empty seat right next to Mia, he glanced at it for half a second before choosing to sit all the way on the other side of the table. That’s when the members noticed.

Felix, who was sitting beside her, leaned in.

“What happened after you left my room last night?” he asked, tone curious but careful.

Mia shook her head quickly. “Nothing, I promise.”

Felix tilted his head, unconvinced. “So why does it look like he’s avoiding you?”

Her lips parted like she was about to explain, but no words came out. Her eyes flicked toward Chan instinctively and caught him staring. They both looked away so fast it was almost comical.

“I’ll tell you later,” she murmured and went back to her breakfast.

Then Hyunjin and Changbin walked in. Hyunjin scanned the table, eyes landing on the empty seat next to Mia then flicking towards Chan. He stared back, he wasn’t even sure why, but it felt like a silent dare: Sit there and see what happens. The flicker of jealousy from the night before still hadn’t gone away.

“Why are you sitting all the way over there when she’s right here?” Changbin asked, completely oblivious. They were so used to seeing Mia and Chan next to each other now he had to question why he wasn’t there. 

The table went quiet.

“We’re having another boundaries talk,” Jeongin announced casually, stabbing at his pancakes.

“We are?” Hyunjin raised a brow, glancing around the table. “Why?” Mia shrugged when Hyunjin turned to her.  “Look,” Hyunjin sighed, “if this is about the whole kissing thing last night, it was a joke. We weren’t actually going to kiss.”

“They were drunk, man,” Changbin added, shaking his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Every single gaze at the table shifted to Chan. He froze, fork halfway to his mouth, his eyes darted to Mia, just for a second, but long enough for her pulse to spike and then back to his plate. He opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again then quietly went back to eating his breakfast like nothing had happened.

“We are not having a boundaries talk,” he said flatly. “Just eat before we head to the airport.”

“Thank God,” Seungmin muttered, slumping back in his chair.

“It’s so weird when we have those talks, hyung,” Jeongin chimed in next to him.

“It’s like your parents giving you the sex talk,” Seungmin added.

Half the table groaned, the other half cringed so hard they nearly choked on their food.

Mia stabbed a piece of her French toast, trying to focus on her plate, but her eyes kept drifting back to Chan. He wasn’t looking at her this time, but she could tell his mind wasn’t on his food either.

With a quiet sigh, she pulled out her phone and opened their chat, her fingers hesitated for a second before typing.

Can we talk?

Across the table, Chan’s phone chimed. His hand shot out immediately to grab it, as if the sound might give something away. He read the message, looked up, and caught her giving him the smallest, almost nervous smile.

Sure

He locked his phone, sliding it back onto the table like nothing had happened, though his heart was anything but calm.

At the airport, Mia lingered behind, pretending to browse one of the souvenir stores but actually waiting for Chan, who always walked at the back of the group.  He stopped next to her.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Hi,” he replied.

“Listen—”

“Mia—”

They spoke at the same time.

“Go ahead,” Mia offered with a small giggle.

“No, you first. Please,” Chan said, shaking his head.

Mia sighed and began walking slowly, Chan fell into step beside her without hesitation. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable last night,” she said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. “Like Binnie said, I was drunk.”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckled.

Mia groaned. “I embarrassed myself really badly. And the guys, too. I promise we won’t play like that again.”

Chan didn’t say anything for a moment. He was still thinking about Hyunjin leaning in, about the way she smiled at Felix, about how she was going to say yes to them… and what she said in her room. “It was just a game we shouldn’t play,” Chan said finally. “As a group, I mean. Remember, we have to respect each other and have boundaries.” 

The words felt safer than admitting the truth, that he wasn’t talking about the group at all.

Mia nodded, biting her lip. “Which… actually leads me to the other thing I did last night. I shouldn’t have been talking about you and Hyunjin like that. Or implying you and Felix have… done things. It wasn’t correct for me to assume things or imply them. I know you’re a good leader and you adore all of us. I just—” she huffed a laugh, embarrassed, “I’ve been reading a lot of fanfiction lately, maybe that’s why it was in my head so much.”

Chan laughed quietly. “Yeah, you did mention fanfics last night. But like you said, you were drunk. It’s okay, Mia.”

She let out a slow sigh. “And… I’m also sorry for making you uncomfortable and saying we should, um… you know.”

Chan scratched the back of his neck, tugging his hoodie higher so it would cover part of his neck and ears. The heat crawling up his skin was impossible to ignore, he always blushed when he was nervous and that was the last thing he wanted her to see right now. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry for that too,” he said. Mia blinked at him, confused. “I should’ve pulled away sooner,” Chan continued. “I drank last night too, and maybe I made you think that I wanted to… you know…”

It was ridiculous, really, how neither of them could say the word kiss . As if avoiding it meant they weren’t both thinking about it.

“Oh no, don’t worry,” Mia laughed softly, though it came out nervous. “I know we wouldn’t. We would never. We’re in the same group.”

“Yeah, it would be weird.”

“So weird,” Mia agreed quickly, nodding a little too fast.  

They walked in silence for a few moments, weaving through the airport crowd. Mia’s mind buzzed with doubt. Okay, so maybe I imagined it. Maybe I was just really drunk and reading too much into a moment that wasn’t there. He’s just Chan, my leader, one of my best friends and that’s it.

Beside her, Chan kept his eyes forward, forcing himself to focus on following the group. Still, the memory from last night lingered stubbornly, no matter how hard he tried to shove it down. She’s part of the group, my responsibility. That’s my job, to take care of them, not cross lines. It would be a terrible idea. Stupid.  

“We’re cool, right?” Mia finally asked, glancing at him.

“Of course we are,” Chan said instantly, giving her a reassuring smile.

And that was supposed to be the end of it, to reset things and go back to how they were before. But as they waited at the gate, it felt off. Every time Chan spoke, Mia’s eyes flicked to his lips before she could stop herself, like her mind hadn’t gotten the memo to move on. And Chan, no matter how much he told himself not to, kept noticing the way she leaned into Jisung while they sat together. He could hear her laugh in response to something Jisung whispered, and even though he stayed quiet, the twist in his stomach was hard to ignore.

On the plane, Mia ended up with a whole row of seats to herself. First class still felt surreal to her, the wide seats, the quiet, the way the plane didn’t even feel like it was in the air. It was so far from the cramped budget flights she used to take. Perks of being famous, she thought.  Everyone was trying to convince her to switch places with them. Everyone except Chan, who always had trouble sleeping on planes, or sleeping in general. So she offered to switch with him.

“You can take the row if you want,” she said, gesturing toward the empty space.

Chan was already sliding his backpack into the overhead compartment, laptop already on his seat. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m going to work most of the flight anyway.” 

“You should rest,” Mia said. “Get some sleep while you can. You can work later.” 

Changbin leaned over the seatback from the row in front.“She’s right. We have plenty of time before our next deadline.”

Seungmin chimed in next to Changbin. “Yeah, listen to your wife.”

“She’s not my—”

“We’re not—”

They blurted it out at the same time, both going quiet as a faint blush crept up their cheeks. Changbin and Seungmin exchanged a look and broke into laughter.

“I’ll work for a bit,” Chan mumbled, eyes fixed on his phone, “then sleep.”

They let it go, everyone knew that was just how Chan was.

Mia settled in her seat, watched two movies and one episode of Jujutsu Kaisen, all while keeping an eye on Chan to make sure he actually went to sleep. He was too focused on whatever track he was mixing when she finally turned to ask. 

“Are you going to sleep soon?” 

Chan just gave a short nod. She decided to believe in him, so she curled up in her seat and pulled on her sleep mask to block the overhead lights ready to sleep. But sleep never came, she kept shifting, turning, trying every possible position but nothing worked.

From behind his laptop, Chan noticed. After a few more minutes of her turning and tossing, he got up, walked to the galley where the aircrew was gathered and asked for a cup of milk with honey. 

With the cup in hand, he made his way back to first class, only to see Mia standing on her tiptoes reaching into the overhead compartment. 

“Need help?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder and giggled. “You’re not that tall, Christopher.”

Chan scrunched up his nose. “Very funny. What are you looking for?”

“My other bag. I had a backpack and a duffle bag, but I can’t find the duffle bag.”

“Oh, I think I know where they put it. Here, hold this.” He handed her the paper cup.

“What’s this?” Mia asked, taking it carefully.

“Warm milk and honey.” He opened and closed compartments until he found the right one. “Uh… it’s actually for you.”

Her eyes softened. “It is?”

“Yeah. I saw you tossing and turning for like an hour. Thought you might need it.”

She smiled at him, then narrowed her eyes playfully. “What about you? You said you were going to sleep soon.”

Chan coughed, giving her a guilty smile. “I’m going to sleep after you fall asleep. Promise.” His dimples appeared with the smile. 

He handed her the duffle bag and Mia placed the cup on the cupholder, then started to dig through her things.

“Here!” she said finally, pulling out a small pouch and holding up a tube of something shiny.

“What’s that?” Chan asked curious.

“Like a sleep aromatherapy oil,” Mia replied.

“When did you get that?” Chan asked, nodding toward the little tube in her hand.

Mia just shrugged. “Not so long ago.”

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” he said, one eyebrow arching in suspicion.

“No, it’s not that,” Mia said quickly, then started fidgeting with the tube between her fingers. “I bought it for moments like this. I know you have trouble sleeping…” She hesitated, then added, “And the boys too. And me sometimes.”

Chan’s expression softened. Even though she tried to make it sound like it was for everyone, he could tell she had mostly been thinking of him when she bought it.

“Do you wanna give it a try?” she asked.

“Sure,” he nodded. 

Chan turned back to his row, only to see their manager sprawled across both seats, sleeping like it was his own private bed. When did that happen? he thought, baffled.

Behind him, Mia giggled. “You can have my seat,” she offered. “You can turn the seats into a bed.”

“If I turn it into a bed, where are you gonna sit?” he asked.

Mia blinked, not having thought that far ahead. “I can go find another seat,” she said with a shrug.

Chan shook his head. “Let’s just sit here, we don’t have to make it into a bed. I’m sure your oil is gonna work.”

Mia just nodded and grabbed her things from the empty seat, making room for him. Chan returned with his stuff and sat down next to her. 

“Drink your milk before it gets cold,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She took a sip. 

Chan tilted his head. “What are you sorry for?” he teased. 

Mia just shrugged, then smiled as she held the cup out for him. “You should have some too.”

They passed the cup back and forth until it was empty, the simple act feeling oddly intimate despite being surrounded by their sleepy band mates and crew. 

Mia applied the oil on herself first, and Chan found himself staring. Something as simple as her pulling her hair away from her neck to rub the oil made his heartbeat quicken.

Once she was done, she turned to him. “Okay, close your eyes,” she instructed.

He did close his eyes, at least for a second. The warmth of her presence so close made his chest tighten, curiosity got the better of him and he cracked one eye open. Mia was leaning toward him, close enough that he could count the faint freckles on her nose, her hand brushing lightly against his neck as she rubbed the oil along his skin.

She caught him looking and chuckled.  “I told you to close your eyes.” 

“I know,” he whispered, his smile tugging helplessly. “I got curious.”

Her gaze flickered over his face for a beat too long, something unspoken resting in her eyes before she shook her head. “Close them, Channie.” He obeyed, though it took effort.

Behind the safety of his closed lids, Chan let himself feel it all. The delicate pressure of her fingers at his temples, the faint scent of lavender and citrus clinging to the oil, the warmth of her breath so close he swore he could feel it on his cheek. Every little detail carved itself into him. His pulse refused to settle, thundering in his chest like it wanted to give him away.

Then Mia whispered, “Now, try to sleep.”

Chan wondered if he'd be able to sleep with his pulse still racing and the memory of her hands still lingering on his skin. He forced himself to stay still. He heard her shifting, the faint zip of a pouch, the soft rustle of fabric as she settled back into her seat. And then, her voice came again, soft, gentle, meant only for him. 

"Good night, Channie."

He clung to her words, the tenderness in her voice sinking into his chest, and as he drifted off he realized something terrifying: if he wasn't careful, he was going to fall for her completely. 

The faint click of a camera shutter, followed by giggles, pulled Chan out of his sleep hours later. His eyebrows furrowed together as he blinked awake, only to find Hyunjin grinning and filming him with his vlog camera while Seungmin took photos on his phone right beside him. 

It took a few seconds for him to register the situation, his head was resting on Mia's shoulder, her arm wrapped tightly against his, their hands intertwined and resting in her lap. 

"Morning, Channie hyung" Hyunjin teased. 

Chan squinted at them, shifting as he carefully lifted his head from Mia's shoulder. The movement made her stir, tightening his hold around his arm instinctively while a small frown tugged at her sleepy face. Instead of letting go, she just moved closer, laying her head against his shoulder this time. 

"Cute," Seungmin murmured with a smirk. 

"Shut up, let her sleep," Chan whispered. Both boys exchanged a look and retreated with a mischievous grin. 

Chan sighed softly and pulled on his phone, checking the time. He'd slept longer and deeper than he had on any flight before. He wasn't sure if it was the oil Mia had used on him... or the way she'd been right there, warm against his side that settled him. 

For his own sanity, he decided to believe it was the oil.

Chapter Text

Mia was frowning as she watched the latest SKZVLOG that has been posted, and the majority of it has been filmed by Jisung. The younger boy was sitting beside her, clearly amused by the look on her face. When the video ended, she locked her phone and set it down on the table in front of them. 

“What?” Jisung smirked. “You didn’t like the editor’s cut?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly, and then let out a sharp exhale.

“Noona, say something,” he pressed, leaning towards her. 

“You’re so fucking dead,” Mia muttered through gritted teeth, then turning around and squinting at him. “I told you to cut that part out! Or at least tell the editors to do it!”

“Which part?” Jisung teased, looking far too entertained by Mia’s reaction. 

“Which part,” she mocked him, grabbing her phone off the table. She rewound the vlog until she reached the part where Jisung had been running around the changing room with the camera, completing his mission of asking the members about their pre-concert habits. 

In the clip, Mia was sitting with her phone when Jisung came to her for her answer. She’d explained how she always brushed her teeth, put on perfume, and swapped out her personal jewelry for the pieces chosen to match her stage outfit. On camera, she’d reached up to unclasp her necklace, two charms dangling from the chain, when Jisung asked where it came from. 

And of course, he was asking about the necklace that Chan gave her. The necklace and the first charm had been a birthday gift, and just a few days ago he surprised her with the second. Mia had frozen then, trying to play it cool, but Jisung wouldn’t let it go. No matter how many warning looks she threw him, he kept pushing. She tried to deflect by saying how Chan spoiled all of them, pointing out how he’d also bought Jeongin new glasses and gotten a cap for Changbin but Jisung kept insisting, teasing her about how expensive the necklace looked.

And the problem was… the editors made it worse. Her obvious blush had been highlighted in the cut, the pacing made it feel like something was being implied, and right after that came a concert clip of her and Chan messing around with confetti on stage.

It looked suspiciously intentional. And sometimes…it was.

The company wasn’t blind to fan culture. Every now and then, they leaned into the ships fans created by highlighting certain moments in vlogs, using particular photos for merch, or even framing interactions in a way that looked just a little too convenient. It didn’t happen to Mia often; she was the oldest, the only girl, and management usually avoided stirring unnecessary drama around her. But when it did happen, it almost always involved Chan.

Mia could easily blame the editors, or the fans for making threads and edits, for noticing things when she couldn’t even figure them out herself. 

Even since that night, when they got drunk and Mia told Chan they should kiss, something had shifted. Not in a bad way, of course. There was just this tension lingering between them that wasn’t sharp or uncomfortable, it was just strange. Like an extra layer hanging over every laugh, every casual touch and every glance that lingered a little too long. 

She didn’t know what to do with it. Was she supposed to ignore it? Pretend nothing had happened and keep going like before? Or was she meant to lean into it, to acknowledge the invisible thread tugging them towards each other whenever they were in the same room?

And all of that confusion only felt heavier with fans dissecting every frame, photo and word. How was she supposed to figure out her own feelings when the internet kept trying to tell her what to feel, or worse, what he felt?

Chan wasn't much help either. One second he was clinging to her, warm and steady like he doesn’t want to let go, and the next he’s on leader mode, professional and a little distant, reminding her that he is the responsible one.

Maybe she was just imagining it all, maybe he really was just being a good leader and a good friend. After all, they were closer in age than the rest of the members. 

Still... sometimes, when his hand brushed hers or when his eyes found her in a crowded room, it felt like something more. And that was the part she didn't know how to deal with. 

Now, sitting with Jisung on the couch, she couldn’t help but indulge in the Twitter discourse about her and Chan’s so-called “soulmate behavior”. 

Her stomach twisted as she opened a thread compiling moments from the tour, they were still adding to it. Videos from their last concert, every single interaction between her and Chan stitched together: him leaning down to murmur something in her ear, her playful shove, the way he smiled just for her, the piggyback ride he gave her at the end of the show when they were leaving. 

Mia groaned, tossing her head back against the couch. 

“What?” Jisung asked, leaning closer

Mia just showed him her phone, Jisung frowned for a moment before taking it from her. “You know you’re not supposed to look yourself up,” he said, already scrolling down the thread. His face broke into a big grin. “Wow, I didn’t even know he did that…” he mumbled, watching one of the clips. “This is very cute. And detailed.”

She frowned this time. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Jisung shrugged. “It’s just funny how you guys can’t even hide it.”

Her stomach tightened at that. “Hide what?” she shot back, trying to sound defensive, though her voice came out a little too quick.

Jisung tried not to laugh, Mia groaned again. “They’re making it seem like I’m in love with him or something.”

He leaned in, close enough that only she could hear, his expression playful. “And you’re not?”

Mia smacked his arm and hid her face against his shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”

When she looked up, his expression had softened. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to push too much.”

“I know,” she sighed, leaning into his shoulder again. Jisung’s arm came around her. “I just… I wish people wouldn’t read into every little thing.”

He patted her head gently. “You’ll be fine once you get used to it.”

“It’s just exhausting. They already think they know the truth.”

“That’s the worst part,” Jisung sighed. “People thinking they know what’s going on when you can’t even figure it out yourself.”

“You know complicated,” Mia mumbled.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know complicated.”

They didn’t say anything after that, both knew what the other felt. Kind of. Maybe that was one of the reasons they were so close: because both Mia and Jisung had confusing relationships with two members of their group. 

Moments later, Mia felt someone staring at her. She had shifted on the couch to lie more comfortably against Jisung, her head still on his shoulder and her legs draped across his lap. His arm was still around her shoulders, and the two of them were watching a video on Jisung’s phone. It was a weird cuddling position, but they often ended up like this. 

When she glanced back, Minho was staring at her. 

“Why is Minho looking at us like that?” Mia whispered. 

Jisung looked over his shoulder, then back at his phone without moving away. “It’s fine,” he said quietly.

“No, seriously, is it because I’m sitting close to you or because we’re breathing the same air?” She chuckled. 

Jisung shook his head. “He’s just grumpy because of that guy at the last concert,” Mia arched an eyebrow, confused. “Yeah, remember that guy with the sign that said I was his type?” 

“Oh,” she nodded. “I called you over so you could see it.”

“Yep." He nodded again. “And now he’s being an ass about it. Says it's your fault.”

Mia frowned. “It was a fan and the sign was cute.”

Jisung shrugged, letting out a small chuckle. “You know. Complicated.”  

“I’m gonna go change. I’m only adding more ammo to his revenge by sitting with you,” Mia teased. 

“He’ll get over it,” Jisung said, though Mia couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked of the whole situation. 

Mia came back five minutes later in her robe, stomping into the room with a deep frown. “Where’s our manager? Or Christopher? Where are they?” she demanded, her voice sharper than usual. The staff scattered around the room looked at each other, wide-eyed. It wasn’t often one of the members raised their voice like this. 

Changbin was the first to step forward. “What do you need them for? Noona, are you okay?” he asked, hurrying toward her. “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” Mia shook her head quickly, her voice already trembling. “My outfits!”

“What’s wrong with your outfits?” Seungmin asked carefully. 

“They changed them!” Mia blurted, almost crying now, her eyes glassy with tears. “I worked so hard to put them together with our stylist, and now they changed them.”

“What do you mean?” Changbin pressed, still trying to soothe her. 

“All my skirts are gone!” she explained in a rush, throwing her hands up. “They switched them all to pants. PANTS!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking. “Not even one short or skort. Pants. Every single one of them.”

“In the middle of the tour?” Jisung asked, clearly confused. 

“Uh-huh,” Mia nodded quickly, her hair falling into her face as she sniffled. 

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, Ji” Changbin said calmly, trying to keep her grounded. “Let’s go find our manager—”

And as if on cue, Chan walked into the room, frowning. “Our staff called me,” he said, looking around before focusing on Mia. “What happened? Why are you in your robe?”

“Channie,” she pouted, her voice wobbly. “They changed all my outfits. Please tell me it’s a mistake.”

Chan’s expression softened, but his tone stayed firm. “It’s not a mistake. The decision was made because some of the skirts were too short. It didn’t look appropriate.”

Mia’s eyes went wide. “What? That's not fair!” Her voice cracked again, frustration bubbling over. “I always wear safety shorts under them. Chris, I worked so hard on those outfits. I chose the jewelry, the details, everything. And now all of that was just changed? Without even asking me?”

Chan shifted uncomfortably, his mouth opening and closing as though searching for the right words. “It's not that bad, we all wear pants.”

“Yeah, but you wear crop tops and sleeveless shirts!” Mia shot back, cheeks flushed. “And all I had going on that looked hot was my skirts and they just took them away. It’s not fair.”

That made Chan falter, his ears turning pink. He looked flustered and tried not to look at anyone else. “Mia, it’s already a final decision.”

Her throat tightened, hot tears threatening to spill. She turned, almost instinctively, towards Minho, and immediately noticed the smug little curve on his lips. Her eyes narrowed, squinting. 

Her voice was small when she turned to ask Chan, “Was it your decision... or someone else’s?”

Chan’s blush deepened, his gaze flickering away for a moment. “It was mentioned by one of the staff members,” he admitted reluctantly. 

Mia pressed her lips together, nodding quickly as if that would keep her composure from crumbling. “Next time, just... ask me first if I’m uncomfortable, okay? Because every outfit I wore was approved by the company.”

Chan’s face softened again. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, brushing him off before he could say more. “It’s fine. I’ll go change into my new outfit,” she muttered, her voice tight as she turned towards the door. 

That’s when Minho’s voice cut through the room, smooth and smug. “At least now we don’t have to worry about the fans screaming over your legs every night.” 

Mia froze for half a second, her eyes narrowing into a glare, but she didn’t trust her voice enough to answer. She just stomped out, the door clicking shut behind her. 

The silence that followed was heavy, Chan advised everyone to go change too. 

Finally, Jisung got up and walked over to Minho, his eyes searching his face. “It was you, wasn’t it? You told Chan about her skirt being too short.”

Minho’s expression didn’t even twitch. “Nope.”

Jisung frowned, not buying it. “Yeah, right.” His voice dropped, sharp now. “That was too much, hyung. She was practically crying.”

Minho only tilted his head back, completely unbothered. “She’ll get over it.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched, his irritation bleeding through. “If someone changed the steps of a choreography you worked on, your reaction would be ten times worse. You know that.”

His frustration was visible. Shoulders tight, eyebrows drawn together, the usual playfulness gone from his tone. Minho, on the other hand, remained infuriatingly casual, as though none of this really mattered.

Across the room, Chan was frozen. Guilt twisted inside him, because it hadn’t been some vague “staff member” who pointed out Mia’s skirts. It had been Minho who pointed out how short they were, who mentioned the fanboys in the front row and how Mia interacted with them. And Chan had taken that and run with it, dressing it up as a leader’s responsibility, when really it wasn’t leadership at all. It was jealousy. 

He’d made the call because he couldn’t stand the way those boys looked at her. Couldn’t stand how easily she smiled at them, waved at them, when that smile did things to him he couldn’t even admit out loud, or even himself. Now seeing the tears in her eyes, the hurt in her voice, he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t protective, he was just guilty and jealous. 

As everyone finished getting ready, Mia was off to the side, running through choreographies in her new outfit. Dancing in pants was nothing like dancing in a skirt, especially when the fake leather clung uncomfortably to her legs. Her irritation practically radiated off her, so the others stayed clear.

Until Changbin convinced Jisung to go talk to her. 

“It doesn’t look bad,” he offered carefully as he approached. 

Mia scoffed without even glancing at him. “Yeah, because I changed the top to a crop top and stole this belt from Innie.” She tugged at the buckle in annoyance. “You know I don’t even like showing my tummy.”

“It’s a cute tummy,” Jisung teased with a smile. 

She shrugged him off. “I just hope I don’t look stupid out there tonight.”

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he reassured her gently. 

She ignored him, eyes narrowing. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Jisung stiffened. “Who?”

“Lee Minho,” her voice was sharp now. “Don’t lie to me, Jisung. Somehow he convinced Chan that my skirt was too short, and that’s why they switched everything.”

“Mia…”

“I’m serious. You can defend him if you want, but it was him. Don’t deny it.”

“Chan’s just as guilty,” Jisung muttered.

“You know how convincing your boyfriend can be.”

“He’s not—”

“Whatever he is then,” she snapped. “I joked about him taking revenge on me, but he actually did it. He messed with something I worked on.”

“You know how he gets—”

“Crazy and possessive?” Mia cut in.

“Hey—”

“He can’t even ask you out properly but he can pull this crap?”

That one landed. Jisung flinched, the hurt clear in his eyes. Mia’s stomach dropped immediately, but it was too late.

“Listen,” Jisung said tightly, “I came over to support you, to tell you it’d be okay. I get you’re pissed, but don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault he does... whatever he does. If he can’t figure himself out... that’s not on me.”

“Ji, I didn’t mean—”

“No. You did.” His voice was steady, serious now. “But it’s fine. I get it. You’re angry, so you’ll lash out at whoever’s closest.”

Before she could get another word out, he walked away, leaving Mia drowning in guilt. 

It didn’t last long before Minho stormed over minutes later, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What the hell did you say to him?” he demanded. Mia opened her mouth, but he cut her in. “Never mind, I don’t actually care. Just apologize. He’s upset now and won’t even talk to me.”

Mia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re demanding I apologize? I think you owe me one first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. The skirt, Minho. That was you.” He rolled his eyes, but Mia insisted, anger sharpening her tone. “It was just a fan sign. A sign. Jisung waving at some guy is nothing, but you acted like he cheated on you.”

“It was from a guy,” Minho hissed. 

“So what? It’s still just a fan.” She folded her arms. “And by the way, I didn’t say anything to Jisung that wasn’t true. You are acting possessive, and you two aren’t even together.”

Minho’s expression darkened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do,” Mia shot back with a bitter laugh. “You can’t even ask him out properly, yet you take revenge on me over something so petty? You sabotaged outfits I worked my ass off on because you didn’t like him smiling at a fan. And worse, you dragged Chan into it and convinced him to back you up.”

Minho’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. 

“Whatever is going on between you and Jisung, figure it out. But you leave me the hell out of it.” Her voice was cold. “I’ll fix things with Jisung later, but you and me? It’s war, mate.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply. She turned on her heel and walked out, fury still burning hot in her chest. 

***

Mia and Jisung could never stay mad at each other. No matter how hurtful her words had been, he understood where her anger came from, and he wasn’t exactly happy with Minho either. She was right: Minho had acted possessive, even when they weren’t together. And that was something that bothered Jisung. They acted like a couple, went on dates, Minho would get jealous of everyone that flirted with him and act possessive but every time Jisung tried to talk about their relationship, Minho pulled away. It was easier for him not to talk at all.

And yet, here they were, in the middle of the concert, almost at the end, singing Star Lost during the encore, a song that had always been important to Mia and Jisung. He once called Mia their “star lost”, and now every word carried them back to each other. The melody was supposed to be playful, cheerful, but Jisung’s eyes burned with unshed tears as he watched her sing her part. The sight of her singing, so bright and vulnerable, melted all his bad feelings away. 

For a moment, Mia wondered if he would still be angry, if the hurt she’d caused could be repaired. Her chest tightened at the thought, but the sight of him, so close yet just out of reach, pulled her forward.  

When Mia turned and met his gaze, Jisung saw her own tears glimmering in the stage lights. Without thinking, she ran to him, wrapping him in a tight hug, as if she could erase the last hours of hurt with a single embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his ear, her voice trembling.

“No… I’m sorry,” Jisung murmured back, his own voice catching.

“What for? I was the mean one,” she pouted. 

He wanted to tell her she wasn’t, that none of it mattered, that he’d never stay mad at her. Especially not because she was telling the truth, as much as it hurt him. But the rest of the members were staring, everyone in the crowd was watching and cooing. Changbin called him on the microphone, reminding him it was his cue to sing.

Jisung chuckled softly into the microphone, letting the sound carry the weight of his emotions as he sang his part. He held Mia’s hand tight, feeling her squeeze back, their fingers swinging together as they walked through the end of the stage. Fans cheered, Mia wiped a few tears away then got emotional again when she saw a group of fans holding their Skzoos together. Jisung held her close, chuckling, and no matter how many times Minho wanted to steal Jisung away or Hyunjin wanted to pull Mia to his side, they stayed glued together until the show finished. 

***

Mia tried to convince herself out of plotting her revenge against Minho. After seeing how much it affected her friendship with Jisung, she thought it would be best to let it go, to do nothing at all. Maybe the smartest move was to make Minho believe she was plotting something, when in reality she was over the whole thing. 

But that was the problem, she wasn’t over it. Every night, at every show, she was reminded of how he had messed with her work. Even fans on the internet noticed the change, making their own theories about why the company had decided to alter her outfit in the middle of the tour. Sure, sometimes the concept of the outfits changed, but this time it was obvious they had only swapped Mia’s skirt for pants. 

Her favorite theory was one she’d read about the company having to change her outfit because Chan couldn’t stop staring at her legs, and how it made him nervous. It was her favorite because they actually had proof, clips of Chan staring when she hadn’t noticed. The thought made her stomach bubble with excitement, knowing she had that effect on him. 

And now because of Minho’s interference, that had been taken from her too. So maybe she did need to make him pay. Not like he had done to her, she wasn’t that mean, she was going to make him pay in a way he couldn’t fight back. And she already had the perfect idea. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Just make Jisung interact with a guy, get Minho a little jealous, and that would be it. Maybe it would even push Minho to finally ask Jisung out for real, or at least that’s what Mia had thought. That’s what she told Jisung too, when she asked if it was okay to call him over whenever she spotted a cute fanboy in the crowd. A little revenge, nothing more. 

But then came the group of fanboys who had been front row for the past four shows. The loudest ones biased Mia and Jisung, so it was natural for them to drift over and interact. Sometimes Mia called Jisung, sometimes he beat her to it. Either way, it always ended with the two of them laughing together in front of the fanboys while Minho fumed in the background. 

The first time it had been part of Mia’s revenge. After that, it was just fan service. Nothing different from the way they treated other fans, girls or otherwise. But Minho didn’t see it like that. Each time, his jaw tightened, his glare slicing across the stage. He and Jisung fought almost every night, and the others noticed but no one dared to step in, not even Mia. They always made up by the next day, but the cycle repeated itself again and again. And Minho’s temper was getting worse, snapping at the others during practice, losing patience over small inconveniences. His bad mood was not directed to Jisung, never at Jisung, but everyone else was paying the price. 

It was their last show in Seattle, only two more stops in the US before heading to Japan. Jisung spotted the fanboys again, this time holding a bigger, bolder sign. One he knew Minho was going to absolutely hate. They hadn’t made up before the show, and Minho hadn’t apologized yet, so Jisung decided he was going to be bratty tonight. He was sick of Minho’s bad mood, and even more tired of not knowing where they stood. 

He warned Mia beforehand, told her he was going to stir trouble and probably needed to crash in her room later. She grinned and agreed instantly. Jisung caught Minho’s eye on stage, giving him a ‘Watch what I'm about to do’ look before he sprinted towards the side of the stage where the fanboys were cheering. 

The sign read: “JiJi twins, double date when?”

“JiJi twins” was the fandom nickname for Mia and Jisung,her Korean name was Jiah, Jisung’s was well... Jisung. He called her over, and Mia practically melted at the sweetness, and boldness, of the sign. They laughed, looking amused and making hearts toward the fanboys. Mia leaned forward, playful, and blew a kiss to one of them.

On the far side of the stage, Minho was staring. His smile for the crowd was stiff, his mic clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

They were about to move on when one of the fanboys cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted for Jisung, asking for a kiss too. And Jisung, never one to waste an opportunity, grinned wide and toothy before blowing one his way.

Minho didn’t speak to him, didn’t even look at him, at least not for the rest of the show.

The ride back to the hotel was... awkward. Usually, the van was filled with chatter, music, jokes, leftover adrenaline from the show. Tonight, it was dead quiet. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. 

Minho sat pressed against the window, hood up, earphones in but not playing anything. Jisung sat silently beside him, staring at his hands. Nobody dared to break the silence. They all knew better.

When they finally reached the hotel, Minho was the first to get out, heading straight inside without a single glance back. The others scattered, some to shower, some to eat, but Jisung trailed after Minho, like he always did. 

Minho’s bag hit the floor with a dull thud, his shoulders tense as he peeled off his hoodie. Jisung walked past him, sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his arms. 

“Okay,” Jisung said flatly, watching him with tired eyes. “You can start now.”

That did it. Minho spun, eyes sharp and voice rough. 

“Is that what you’re gonna do from now on?” His words came out fast and bitter.  Jisung tilted his head, confused. “Flirt with every guy in the crowd you see?” Minho clarified, heat in his voice. “Do you even know what you’re doing, Jisung?”

Jisung’s eyebrows shot up. “Minho, it was fanservice.”

“You were flirting,” Minho snapped back, Jisung rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know what flirting looks like?”

He scoffed. “Of course you do. You flirt all the time, with everyone.”

“Not like that.”

“Oh, please. You practically eye-fuck Hyunjin on stage, or backstage whenever you get the chance, and I don’t say anything.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Jisung’s voice sharpened, words coming out faster now. “Because you get to decide when it’s a joke and when it’s not? You want to do whatever you want with everyone, and then get possessive when it’s me. But when I try to talk... when I try to ask what we are... you shut me out. It’s not fair.”

Minho opened his mouth, ready to argue, but no words came. His jaw tensed, eyes dark, caught between anger and something softer. 

“I’m so tired, Minho.” Jisung’s voice cracked, heavy with exhaustion. 

“Tired of what, exactly?” Minho asked carefully. 

“I don’t even know. Of your jealousy, your possessiveness, your bad mood when I don’t do what you say.” Jisung pushed himself up from the bed, standing now, his voice rising with every word. Minho opened his mouth to cut in, but Jisung kept going, sharp and unrelenting. “And it’s all so confusing. Every time I ask what we are, you brush it off. Like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t really matter to you. I’m so tired of it.”

“Jisung, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minho sighed. “Stop before you say something you regret.”

Jisung let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Why am I even here? Why do I always stay when you treat me like this, like my feelings don’t matter? And on top of it, you yell at me for doing my job.” He grabbed his bag. 

“Where are you going?” Minho asked, voice low, a thread of panic beneath it. 

“I don't know. Literally anywhere else.” The door clicked shut behind him. 

***

Later that night, Chan was actually asleep for once. He was sprawled on the hotel bed, laptop open beside him, phone buzzing with unread messages. The pounding on his door jolted him awake.

Groggy, he stumbled over and opened it, only for Minho to push inside, pacing like a caged animal.

“He’s gone.”

Chan rubbed his eyes. “What? Who—”

“Jisung.” Minho’s voice cracked. “Were you sleeping?”

“No, no, I was awake,” Chan lied through a yawn. “Wait. What do you mean, gone?”

“Jisung!” Minho snapped. “He left after we fought. I thought he’d come back, but he’s not in his room. I texted, I called... Nothing.”

That made Chan wake up fully. “You fought? Again?”

“Yeah, but—” Minho’s hands curled into fists. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

Chan gave him a look.

“Fuck, I didn’t think he’d actually leave,” Minho muttered.

Chan grabbed his phone and shoved on a hoodie. “Okay, calm down. He’s probably with Mia. He always goes to her when he needs space.”

“I already checked.” Minho’s voice dropped flat. “She’s not there either.”

Chan froze. “What do you mean?”

“Her bed’s untouched. She’s not answering her phone.”

Something cold settled in Chan’s chest. Without another word, he bolted from the room, Minho right behind him.

He dialed Mia’s number... Straight to voicemail.

“Fuck,” Chan hissed under his breath.

Chapter Text

The bass thumped so loud Mia could feel it in her chest. Neon lights pulsed over the packed dance floor, bodies moving in rhythm, laughter and music tangled into one humid, electric mess. She and Jisung danced like no one was watching. For once, it felt good to be anonymous. No screaming fans, no camera lenses, no pressure. Just noise, lights and a shit ton of vodka. 

Jisung tugged her to the side and ordered two more shots from the bartender, God knew which number they were at by now. Mia laughed as Jisung winked at the bartender when he slid the glasses over. Slightly drunk Jisung in a club was fun, carefree, loud and even had the same accent as her when he spoke English. 

“Fuck, that was gross,” Jisung groaned after tossing his shot back. 

Mia laughed. “You’re Korean, you’re supposed to be able to handle your liquor!” She said, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders. “Is that drunk blushing, or just the blush I put on you earlier?”

Jisung shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel sweaty.”

“Me too!” Mia shouted over the music. “Do I still look hot?”

“We still look hot,” Jisung grinned, raising his arm so Mia could spin under it. 

They both burst out laughing, drawing the attention of a guy nearby. He was tall, smug and a little too confident. He walked straight up to Mia, eyes locked on her.

“Was that spin for me?” he smirked, slipping a hand onto her waist. 

Mia immediately shoved it off. “No, it was for him.” She jerked her chin towards Jisung.

“That? For a twink?” The guy raised an eyebrow. 

“Hey—!” they both exclaimed at the same time. 

“Are you seriously being homophobic in 2022? In a bar with a pride flag hanging over our heads?” Jisung snapped. 

The guy rolled his eyes. “I’m not being homophobic. Being a twink’s not a bad thing. If you’re into that, he can join us later.” He smirked towards Mia. 

“You’re seriously gross,” Mia spat. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He leaned in again.

“Come on, mate, just leave. She’s not going home with you,” Jisung cut in, voice tight. 

“Not even in your dreams,” Mia added with a chuckle. 

The guy reached for her arm, but before he could touch her, Jisung stepped between them. 

“I said leave,” Jisung growled. 

The guy was taller, hovering over him. He sneered, looking at Jisung up and down. “What are you, her bodyguard?”

“Maybe,” Jisung shrugged. “Twink or not, I’ve got more chances with her, or any girl here, than you ever will.”

That set him off, the guy grabbed Jisung by the collar. It happened fast, Mia didn’t think and shoved the guy hard in the chest.

“Don’t fucking touch him,” she said with greeted teeth. 

The shove caught attention. A small crowd circled around them, security on alert but holding back when the guy finally let Jisung go. He muttered something under his breath as he stormed off. 

Jisung adjusted his shirt, chest rising and falling fast. “What a fucking dick.”

Mia grabbed his arm. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

***

At the hotel, Chan was sprinting down the hallway, pounding on doors, waking staff and members alike. Minho trailed after him, voice sharp as he asked if anyone had seen Jisung—

 “Or Mia!” Chan added every time, but no one had.

Eventually, everyone ended up in Chan’s suite, the only room large enough to fit them all. Members, managers, security, staff, everybody crowded together, tension thick in the air.

Chan was already at work, grilling the security team and handing out orders. Some were told to search the hotel floor by floor, while others were sent out into the streets nearby. He looked more stressed than their managers combined, his hands running through his hair again and again. Minho kept pacing in circles, gnawing at his bottom lip.

“I just can’t believe they vanished like this,” Chan muttered to one of the managers. “There wasn’t anyone on guard tonight?”

“There were two,” the manager replied quickly. “We don’t know how they slipped past them.”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doesn’t matter. Pointing fingers isn’t going to bring Mia and Jisung back.”

On the couch, Hyunjin yawned so wide his jaw cracked. “Wait… why are we trying to bring Mia and Jisung back?”

“Because they’re not here, Hyune,” Changbin said, barely awake beside him.

Hyunjin’s eyes flew open. “What do you mean, not here?”

“They left without telling anyone,” Minho explained, his voice tight. “And we don’t know where they went.”

“Did you try calling?” Seungmin mumbled, stretching.

“Obviously.”

Felix, phone still pressed to his ear, groaned. “Voicemail. Again.”

“But did it go straight to voicemail?” Jeongin asked.

Felix shook his head. “No, it rang.”

“We can track their phones,” Jeongin said, looking straight at Chan and Minho.

Changbin frowned. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Find My iPhone,” Jeongin explained, already reaching for Chan’s laptop. “You just need the Apple ID. It’ll show the location on a map.”

“Jeonginie, we don’t have their passwords,” Hyunjin sighed.

“Minho hyung has Jisung’s.”

The room went silent. Chan’s head snapped toward Minho, who looked just as startled.
“Do I?” he muttered, then his eyes widened. “Wait. I do!” He yanked out his phone, quickly scrolling through his notes until he found it. Within minutes, Jeongin had Jisung’s account pulled up and a map glowing on the screen.

“There,” he pointed, zooming in. “That’s the last location.”

But the map wasn’t updated enough to show names, just a blinking dot on a street. Felix leaned in, squinting.

“That district’s full of clubs,” he muttered. “Hang on.” He typed the street into Google, pulling up a list of nearby places. “Here, that one.”

Chan leaned over his shoulder. “Search if anyone’s posted about them being there. See if they’ve been spotted.”

Felix’s fingers flew over the keyboard, checking Twitter, then Instagram. Nothing. Finally, he clicked on the club’s location tag. Tapping through the stories that popped up until he found one with them in it. 

“Oh no…” he whispered.

Everyone’s heads whipped toward him. “What?” Chan demanded.

Felix turned his phone around. On the screen, a shaky Instagram story showed a crowded dance floor, neon lights flashing… And in the middle of it, a man had Jisung by the collar.

Minho’s expression darkened. “Who the fuck is that?” 

***

Mia and Jisung leaned against the brick wall outside, the night air cooling their sweaty skin. Neither spoke at first, they just breathed, letting the silence settle heavy between them. It wasn’t just about what happened inside the club. It was Minho, the fight, the tension that had been simmering for weeks.

“Thanks,” Mia said softly.

Jisung gave her a lopsided smile. “I didn’t do much. You had him before I could even throw a punch. I should be thanking you.” He let out a short laugh.

Mia shook her head. “Still, that was really brave. And what you said to him, about being able to pull any girl at the club.” Her lips formed a smirk. “That was… attractive.” Jisung groaned and shook his head, cheeks warming. “If I could brag about it to everyone, I would,” she teased, nudging him. “But since we’re hiding from the world right now, I guess it’ll stay as our little secret.”

“That’s fine by me,” Jisung sighed. Then, after a moment: “Do you think they’ve realized we’re gone?”

Mia shrugged. “No idea. My phone’s on Do Not Disturb.”

“Mine too.”

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” she asked.

He hesitated. “What time is it?”

Mia checked her phone. “Almost four.”

Jisung pulled out his own and chuckled under his breath at the screen. “How many missed calls do you have?”

Mia frowned, unlocking hers, only for her jaw to drop. “Holy shit.” Dozens of missed calls, unread texts, frantic messages from the group chat and managers filled her notifications. “I think everyone knows,” she muttered.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

They stared at their phones for a long second before looking at each other. Jisung shrugged first, Mia followed.

“Wanna go back inside?” she asked.

“Of course.” His smirk returned as he hooked his arm through hers. Together, they pushed the door open and slipped back into the noise and chaos of the club. Two kids who knew were in trouble, but weren’t ready for the night to end.

They kept dancing and drinking, wrapped up in the music and each other, their phones and all the notifications long forgotten. That was, until Jisung wanted to go to the bathroom. Mia leaned against the wall outside, scrolling lazily through her phone, when a new text from Chan popped up:

You and Jisung have five minutes to come outside or we're walking in with bodyguards.

“Oh, shit.” Mia’s stomach dropped. She started pounding on the bathroom door.
“Jisung! Jisung! Come out, we’ve got a problem!”

Not even five minutes later they were walking out of the club. Right in front of the entrance were Chan and Minho, both in sweatpants and hoodies with their facemasks on. Some people were staring at them, and of course they were. Because why were they wearing those masks? That only threw more attention.

Jisung opened his mouth to say something as they got to them, but Chan was quicker. “I don’t want to hear it, Jisung,” he said, voice stern. He looked exhausted, not just from the night, but from the fact that he had clearly gotten up from bed, realized they were gone and rushed over here.

They started walking, Mia and Jisung falling in step behind. The van was parked at the end of the street. Two black vans, one packed with bodyguards, the other with Korean men. Suspicious as hell. 

Minho kept glancing back to make sure they were following. Jisung hugged himself against the cold, his see-through shirt useless against the night air. Minho noticed.

 “Where’d you get that?” he arched an eyebrow. 

 “It’s Mia’s,” Jisung said quietly.

“Of course it is,” Minho scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mia frowned, her body tensing for the argument she knew was coming. 

Minho turned around to face her. “I know this whole thing was your idea.” 

The four of them stopped walking as Minho and Mia started arguing.

“And what if it was?” Mia snapped back, heat rising in her chest. “Jisung needed a distraction from everything, from you.”

“In a fucking club?” he growled.

“Oh my god, he’s not a baby! He’s twenty-one. That’s legal here, and basically everywhere,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re just mad because he went out without you, because you couldn’t control him,” she added. “Newsflash, Lee Minho. He can take care of himself.”

“He can?” Minho snapped. “Then why was that guy grabbing him by the shirt, huh?”

Mia and Jisung both froze.

“Stop fighting and get in the fucking van,” Chan cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Now.”

They climbed into the van, Mia and Jisung sitting side by side.

“How do you even know about that guy?” Jisung asked quietly once they were moving.

“Because someone posted it on Instagram,” Minho muttered.

“Someone recognized us?” Jisung’s voice tightened, full of worry. 

“We don’t know yet,” Chan said calmly. Too calmly. It made Mia nervous. “We saw it from some random account.”

“It doesn’t matter who posted it,” Minho pressed, voice rising. “What matters is why he was grabbing Jisung like that. What if he’d gotten hurt, Jiah?” He switched to Korean, rambling so fast Mia couldn’t keep up.

“Stop! Stop! You know if you talk too fast I get lost.” She frowned.

“If something bad had happened to Jisung, you’d be the one paying,” Minho growled.

Mia’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Are you threatening me? Why the hell would I put Jisung in danger? He’s my best friend. That asshole was harassing me, and Jisung stepped in. He was protecting me.”

Chan’s head turned towards Jisung for confirmation. Jisung nodded, and Chan’s jaw clenched.

But Minho wasn’t done. “Then learn to take care of yourself! Stop dragging Jisung into your fucking nonsense before he gets hurt!” he yelled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Lee Minho?” Mia’s voice cut sharp. “Do you really see me as a threat? Are you actually jealous Jisung spends time with me?”

“Jealous? Me? Why would I be jealous of—”

“Be careful with your words, Minho,” Chan warned him. 

“Are you seriously defending her after what she did?” Minho spat.

“I’m not defending anyone. They both chose to sneak out. I’m warning you before you say something you can’t take back.” Chan’s eyes stayed on the road, but his voice struck with firmness. “She’s part of our group. She’s family. And whether you like it or not, she’s older than you. You owe her respect.”

Mia caught his gaze in the rearview mirror, that look made her stomach twist.

That shut Minho up. Silence fell heavy in the van.

She wanted to stay angry, and wanted to keep throwing words at Minho until he shut up and stopped making up things to fight with her, but suddenly she couldn’t. Chan’s words, his tone, the way Jisung’s hand was sweaty against hers. It all sank in at once.

Her chest grew tight. They had to get up, in the middle of the night, because of me. Because I couldn’t just say no to Jisung. Because I didn’t think far enough ahead.

Something crawled up her throat, bitter and suffocating. It was guilt. Minho’s accusations replayed in her head and for the first time, she didn’t know if she could fight back.

Jisung squeezed Mia’s hand before speaking. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. And Mia doesn’t drag me into anything,” his voice was quiet but steady. “I wanted to come because I needed a break. From everything. What happened with that guy? It happened because I was protecting her, like she always protects me. She’s my best friend. Just like you are, Minho.” He paused. “But not in the same way, and you know it. You need to stop thinking people brainwash me into doing things, and stop getting mad when I don’t do what you want. I’m my own person. I’m not yours to claim. You need to understand that.”

No one spoke after that. The tension hung thick in the air all the way back to the hotel.

As soon as they got to their floor, the rest of the members and staff were waiting outside the elevator. The collective sigh of relief was loud once they saw Jisung and Mia were okay.

Felix rushed in first, hugging her tight before pulling Jisung into the hug too. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” he whispered into Mia’s ear. She just nodded, too drained to deny it.

Once everyone had checked that the two of them were safe, Chan turned on his heel, heading toward his room without a word.

“Should we go with him…?” Mia asked softly, glancing at Jisung.

“I don’t know…” Jisung shrugged. “Hyung…?” he called after Chan, “Are you going to talk to us?”

Chan stopped but didn’t turn. He just shook his head. “Tomorrow.” He said simply.

Then he looked at both of them, and Mia wished he hadn’t. His eyes weren’t furious, weren’t cold, they were worse. They were disappointed.That look made her feel small, like a child who had broken something. A shiver ran down her spine, guilt rooting deep in her stomach.

“But I don’t trust you guys sleeping alone,” he added, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Mia, you sleep with Felix tonight in his room. And Jisung—”

“I got it, hyung,” Minho interrupted quickly.

Jisung turned on him instantly. “No. I don’t want to sleep with you.” His voice was soft but firm.

“That’s fine, come sleep with me, then,” Chan offered.

“No, you snore and I won’t be able to sleep,” Jisung frowned. Chan looked mildly offended. “I can sleep with Felix and Mia too,” he tried again.

“Just sleep in my room, Jisung. Don’t be like that,” Minho rolled his eyes, reaching for Jisung.

The look on Jisung’s face was something Mia had never seen before. “Do you want me to repeat what I said in the van in front of everyone?” His tone cut through the hallway. “I don’t want to sleep in the same room as you. And don’t touch me.”

The small gasp Changbin let out echoed, pulling everyone’s attention. Jisung had never spoken to Minho like that before. Mia felt the guilt twist sharper, was this her fault too? Was she creating distance between them just by existing?

“Sorry…” Changbin muttered quietly. “Why don’t you sleep in my room, Jisungie?” He offered carefully.

“No. You always end up hugging me and I don’t want that,” Jisung kept frowning. “I’ll sleep with Mia and Felix,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Figure it out yourselves then,” Chan sighed “Just don’t let them sleep alone,” Chan said to the members and staff, his frustration showing now. Nobody dared to argue further.

Mia followed Jisung and Felix back to her room to gather her things, still feeling Chan’s disappointed eyes burning at the back of her mind. Then they went to Jisung’s room to grab his things. Minho followed close behind, his presence suffocating.

“What are you doing?” Felix asked curiously when they reached his room.

“I’m sleeping here,” Minho said calmly, trying to push past Felix.

“Hyung…” Felix warned.

“Don’t you dare, Lee Minho,” Jisung said from behind him, tone low and trembling with restrained anger. “I’m serious. I don’t want you here. Not tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Mia stood just behind him, watching his fists clench at his sides, knuckles white. He was shaking, even if he tried to hide it. She wanted to reach out, to grab his hand, to tell him she was sorry for everything, but the words stuck in her throat.

Minho’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

The last time Mia had sat in a room full of staff, managers, and Christopher Bahng, they had been discussing the possibility of her joining Stray Kids. Now, sitting in Chan’s suite—which had been turned into a makeshift meeting room—the situation was completely different.

Back then, Chan had been right beside her, offering a reassuring smile whenever she glanced his way. Now, he wouldn’t even look at her. His eyes stayed locked on the managers and the executive on the video call. Every so often he sighed, frowned, and pressed his lips into a thin line. He was stressed, Mia could see it, and it was all because of her and Jisung.

They were in trouble, that was obvious. Still, it wasn’t as bad as she feared, at least not with the company. Nobody had realized it was them, and no one was saying anything about two Stray Kids members going to a club in Seattle. But Mia also knew how the internet worked. Just because fans hadn’t found out yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t.

That was why the company planned to release a statement: they’d frame it as Jisung and Mia going out, having fun, and being of legal age to be there. Chan had immediately opposed it. If nobody knew yet, why put out a statement at all? Why create a problem that wasn’t there? he argued back. They weren’t doing anything illegal, maybe broke their rules as a group but didn’t do anything actually bad. But then someone had brought up the incident with the guy, and Chan’s face had gone pale. Even Minho, who was sitting next to Jisung, had shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

In the end, Chan had asked them to review their options and at least consider his point of view. Before ending the call, the man on the screen leaned forward and said: “Please make sure this does not happen again,” his gaze fixed directly on Chan. Chan didn’t answer, instead it was their managers and head of security who replied.

Mia, Jisung, and Minho stayed seated while Chan walked everyone to the door, bowing, apologizing, and shaking hands as if he were carrying the weight alone. 

Once the suite was quiet again, the silence started to feel suffocating for Jisung. He stood up, and waited until Chan returned to the table and shut his laptop before speaking.

“Hyung?” he called.

“Yes?” both Chan and Minho replied. 

“Chan hyung,” Jisung corrected. “Can we go now or…?”

Chan nodded. “You can leave.”

Jisung nudged Mia to stand, jerking his chin toward the door. She only nodded, staying in her seat. Jisung walked toward the exit, but stopped when he noticed only Minho was following him.

“Mia?” he called.

“I’ll go in a minute,” she murmured.

Jisung hesitated, Minho slipped past him and out into the hall.

“Let’s go,” Minho urged.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Jisung frowned, his voice firm before he pulled the door shut. Their muffled bickering followed them down the hall until it finally faded.

That was when Chan finally turned to her, his gaze felt heavy on her.  “Did you want to say something?”

Mia’s throat went dry. She wanted to say a hundred things at once. She wanted to apologize, to tell him she hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, to explain that she hadn’t been thinking. But the words got caught in her chest. 

Her fingers curled against her knees. She wished he would just yell at her, scold her the way anyone else would. Instead, his silence made it worse. The fact that he was still waiting, still giving her the chance to speak, made her chest ache. 

She opened her mouth, closed it, then dropped her gaze to the floor. 

Chan sighed. “You can leave, you don’t have to say anything.”

Mia shook her head, then stood up. “No, I—” She stopped, and took a shaky breath. When she looked up, her eyes were shiny, and she was determined not to let the tears fall. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice trembling. “I didn’t know you guys were going to get so worried.”

Chan sighed again, rubbing his face. “Mia, you need to stop and think before you do stuff like this. Disappearing in the middle of the night… What if something had happened to you? What if that guy at the club had hurt Jisung? Or you?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just…” her voice cracked. “Jisung was really upset, and I was stressed. I just wanted to help him feel better, to loosen up. To have fun. I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

He didn’t respond right away.

“I just wanted him to feel normal, to feel relaxed for a few hours,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble, to cause you trouble. I promise it won’t happen again. I won’t make you mad again.”

Tears were already slipping down her cheeks, but Mia hurried to wipe them away as she finished speaking. 

“Mia, I’m not—”

“You are mad at me,” she cut in with a sniff, arms wrapping tightly around herself. “And it’s totally valid. I got you in trouble, Chan. And every time you look at me you have this look in your eyes… I disappointed you. I disappointed everyone.”

Chan’s expression cracked. “No, don’t cry,” he murmured, stepping forward. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Yes, you are—”

But she never finished, because he pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

“I was just worried,” he breathed into her hair. “So worried, Mia.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her voice muffled against his hoodie.

“I know you are,” he whispered. “But you’ll learn from this, right? Every bad decision has consequences. I know sneaking out didn’t sound like a bad idea last night, but it was wrong, for you and Jisung.”

She nodded against him.

“Okay. So no more disappearing, alright? At least not without telling me.” His lips curved into a small smile. “Just let me know next time if you and Jisung want some twin time.”

“I will,” she promised. Then she pulled back slightly, her eyes shining. “But you have to stop avoiding me if you want me to actually tell you that.”

Chan let out a nervous laugh. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“You have,” she pouted. “You’ve been distant. And you didn’t even ask my opinion when you decided to change my whole concert wardrobe.”

He let out a sigh. “Okay, guilty on that one. But the rest? I’ve just been busy.”

Mia didn’t want to press on the subject more, instead she narrowed her eyes. “I know it was Minho. I don’t know how he convinced you, but he put that idea in your head. Either that, or STAYs are right and you secretly have a thing for my legs.”

Heat rushed to his face, a blush creeping up his neck and ears. “You and Minho need to stop fighting and taking petty revenge on each other,” he warned gently.

“He starts it! I do nothing,” she argued. “And he yelled at me.”

“But you yelled back,” Chan reminded her with a chuckle. And he wasn’t wrong. Her lips pressed together in a pout, and his voice softened. “He was freaking out. We all were,” he added “and you know how he gets when it comes to Jisung. After seeing that video…”

“They fight a lot,” Mia whispered, words full of worry. “And Jisung cries a lot.”

“I know.” Chan’s tone grew serious. “I need to talk to them. Both of them.”

“Are you going to ask them to… you know, stop?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

Mia gave him a small, almost knowing look. “Minho just needs to figure out what he wants.”

Chan exhaled, watching her closely. “Yeah… maybe he’s just scared of what could happen.”

“I think he is,” she said quietly, eyes locked on his. “But nothing bad will happen. I know you won’t let anything bad happen.”

Something shifted in the air. Chan’s hand lifted, cupping her cheek, Mia leaned into his touch.

“I wouldn’t,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen… to you.”

They were so close. His thumb brushed across her cheek, her pulse fluttered and Mia swore the world stopped.

“Channie…” she breathed.

Before she could say another thing, he leaned in and kissed her.

Soft, sure and quiet. 

In an instant, Chan was kissing Mia like a starved man, and then they were walking backwards without breaking the kiss. His strong hands cupped her face as if letting go meant she would vanish. Her legs bumped into his bed, and before she knew it, she was lying down with Chan on top of her.

He kept holding her face until Mia wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands slipping up to play with the hair at the back of his head. That was when his hand slid down to her hip, holding her close. All the pent-up tension between them spilled into the kiss, both of them fighting for control. He kissed like a god, and she tasted like coffee and the faintest hint of chocolate.

Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the thrill of finally being here. All the waiting, all the stolen glances and unspoken feelings, had led to this moment. 

When they finally broke apart after several minutes, Chan just stared at her, both of them gasping for air. Mia smiled at him, unable to help it, her arms still around his neck. His hand remained firm on her hip, his thumb brushing teasingly over the strip of skin between her shirt and sweatpants.

He smiled back, softer this time, and leaned in. She felt herself grinning as their lips met again, and again, and again. Every kiss had her realizing this was real, this was him choosing her, not just in passing but in the most intimate way.

The world had stopped spinning, leaving only the two of them. In this room. In his bed. Holding each other.

Eventually, her hands began to wander, gliding over the shape of his arms, then down his back and slipping under his hoodie. Chan’s lips left hers, trailing along her jaw before moving lower, peppering open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Mia tilted her head instinctively, offering him more space, her breath catching with every press of his mouth against her skin.

Her hands, bolder now, slid across his chest until they reached his stomach. She felt the hard lines of his abs beneath the fabric, and just then, Chan pulled away. In one swift motion, he tugged his hoodie off and tossed it aside.

Mia had seen him shirtless more times than she could count, on stage, in the practice room, swimming. She knew what his body looked like. But here, in this moment, inches away from him in his bed, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t casual or accidental. It was real.

Her gaze locked with his before she dared to touch him again. Her fingers brushed across the warm skin of his abdomen, feather light, almost hesitant. The quiet gasp that escaped his lips made her freeze. She started to pull her hand away when Chan caught it gently and placed it back on his stomach, leaving it there.

Mia’s eyes moved back from his abs to his face. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, but his expression was anything but calm. His eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite name, something that made her pulse race, and his lips —slightly parted, soft and inviting— looked like temptation itself.

This time, Mia was the one who pulled him back into the kiss, tongues brushing together as it deepened, a low hum escaping her throat. Chan’s hands slid up beneath her shirt, gracing over her skin, lifting the fabric just enough to reveal more of her without taking it off completely. His lips broke away from hers only to return to her neck, trailing hot kisses against her skin.

In the same movement, he shifted, settling his weight between her legs, one arm braced on the bed to hold himself up. When he pressed his hips down against her, a shiver ran through her, and instinctively, one of her legs hooked around his waist, pulling him closer. He pressed down harder, a low groan escaping his lips. His mind blurred, body acting on instinct. All he could register was her warmth, her pull, and the overwhelming ache of wanting more. 

But then, Mia let out a sound. 

It was like a bucket of cold water.

Chan froze, pulling back almost instantly, his entire body tensing as realization slammed into him. His eyes widened, chest rising and falling rapidly as the weight of what they were doing sank in.

“I’m sorry, I—” Chan started, his voice low and rough, words catching as he swallowed hard.

“It’s fine,” Mia interrupted quickly, her voice soft and steady. She even gave him a reassuring smile.  “We don’t have to do anything.”

He stared at her then, really looked at her. Half his body still on top of hers, hair messy, lips swollen, eyes glossy but bright. She didn’t look out of place, or scared, or regretful. She looked like a dream.

“Sorry,” he whispered again, almost to himself. He wanted to push himself off her, but every part of him resisted it. 

Mia let out a small laugh, tilting her head. “Why are you apologizing?” she teased. “I wanted to kiss you too.”

Something in him eased at her words, making his lips curve into a smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, the confession slipping out with a sigh.

“Shut up,” Mia rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed.

He shook his head and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her nose before stealing another from her lips. Mia let out the faintest gasp, then cupped his face to give him one back, slow and sweet.

For a moment, they just stayed like that, foreheads almost touching, shared breaths filled the silence as the reality of what they had done started to sink in. 

“Chan, I—” Mia started this time. Ready to pour her heart out. 

But Chan cut her off, retreating behind his walls as quickly as he had let them down. “We should go get ready. We still need to eat before heading to the airport,” he said, finally pushing himself up and away from her.

The sudden change felt like a slap. Mia blinked, her chest tightening at the shift in his tone. She didn’t argue, though. She just sat up quietly.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I’ll go then. See you later?”

Chan gave her a small smile. “Yes. See you later.”

She wanted to lean in, to kiss him again before she left, but stopped herself. Instead, she gave him one last smile before walking out of the room. The second the door closed behind her, her lips stretched into the biggest grin, her chest bubbling with warmth.

She ran to the elevator, her heart racing, and as soon as the doors opened she bolted down the hall towards Jisung’s room.

She banged on his door, frowning when there was no response. “Jisung! Open up! I need to talk to you!” From inside, the sound of music got louder, like he had turned it up on purpose so she wouldn’t hear. Mia’s frown deepened, and she knocked harder. Nothing.

Across the hall, another door opened and Hyunjin’s head popped out. When he saw it was her, he stepped out, leaning casually against his doorframe. “What’s the emergency?”

“Jisung is not opening his door,” Mia huffed.

Hyunjin smirked knowingly. “Oh, he’s not gonna open. He’s clapping cheeks.”

“What?” Mia blinked at him.

“Clapping cheeks,” he repeated casually. “You know, Minho and him are fu—”

“Wait. What?” Mia cut him off, half-shocked, half-laughing. She walked to him as if to confirm he wasn’t joking, but Hyunjin just shook his head, unfazed. “Already? That was fast. I saw them leave the meeting like an hour ago and he said he didn’t want to talk to Minho,” she muttered.

Hyunjin just shrugged. “Why are you banging on his door anyway?”

Mia hesitated, chewing her lip, then blurted: “I made out with Chan.”

Hyunjin froze. Then: “What?!” His voice pitched so suddenly she winced, then nodded quickly. “Is that why your hair looks like that?” he added, eyes narrowing.

“Hey!” she smacked his arm.

“Oh my god, did you fuck him?” Hyunjin was practically shouting now.

“Hyunjin, shut up!” Mia hissed, grabbing his wrist and yanking him inside his room before anyone else heard.

He was giggling as she closed the door behind them. “Did you see his dick? It’s big, isn’t it?”

Mia’s jaw dropped. “No, I did not—wait. How do you know it’s big? Have you seen it?”

Hyunjin nodded casually. “We all have. Actually, we all have seen each other’s.”

Mia made a face. “You guys have the weirdest bonding activities.”

He shrugged. “So… you didn’t fuck him?”

“No!” she shot back, cheeks heating up. “We just kissed until he…”

“He…?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

Mia groaned, covering her face. “He was on top of me, between my legs, and I felt his… you know… and I moaned.”

Hyunjin gasped dramatically, then softened. “You are so cute,” he cooed.

“Don’t be weird,” Mia muttered, still hiding her face in her hands. “Nothing happened. We just kissed.”

“Still,” Hyunjin grinned, plopping onto his bed beside her, “that’s impressive. You guys finally crossed that line.”

Mia peeked through her fingers. “What line?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, please,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. Everyone knows about the weird tension between you two.”

Groaning, Mia buried her face into his pillow. Hyunjin laughed, patting her head. 

That’s when the door opened and Changbin walked in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing together. “Is noona crying?”

“Nope,” Hyunjin grinned. “Quite the opposite. She made out with Chan.”

Changbin squeaked so loud Mia shot up from the pillow. “For real? It finally happened?”

Mia frowned. “What do you mean finally?”

“Come on, noona,” Changbin teased, grinning wide.

“No, seriously. Did you guys know? The whole time?”

Both Hyunjin and Changbin nodded instantly.

“It was so obvious,” Hyunjin giggled.

“That’s why we made a group chat without you guys,” Changbin added proudly. “It’s called ‘Mom and Dad Are in Denial.’”

Mia’s jaw dropped. “You guys what?!”

Groaning, she buried her face back into the pillow as the two boys laughed so hard they were almost falling over.

Chapter Text

Minho’s hips slammed forward one final time, a groan tearing from his throat as he finished and collapsed on top of Jisung, face buried in the crook of his neck. His chest glistened with sweat as he lay there, breathless and satisfied, a wide grin tugging at his lips. Beneath him, Jisung’s body was equally spent, but his gaze drifted to the ceiling, unfocused. His heart was pounding for all the wrong reasons. 

Minho’s weight was warm, comfortable, but his mind was already slipping away, tangled in everything this meant and everything it didn’t.

“God, I missed this,” Minho murmured, pressing lazy kisses along Jisung’s jaw. 

Jisung let out a faint chuckle, the sound tasting bitter in his mouth. Minho noticed almost immediately, pulling back with a frown. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

He shook his head quickly. “Doesn’t matter,” he said and as soon as Minho moved off him he tried to reach for his boxers on the floor. “Are you going to nap?”

“Jisungie,” Minho’s voice softened, reaching for his wrist and stopping him. “What’s wrong? Are you still mad? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Jisung said, voice flat while his throat tightened. “I’ll tell you later.” He tried to pull away again, but Minho tugged him back down. 

“Jisung, talk to me.”

Instead of answering, Jisung leaned forward and kissed him. Gentle at first, then desperate, like maybe he could bury the words in Minho’s mouth and make them disappear. Minho kissed him back, confused but unable to resist, until Jisung pushed harder, urgency spilling out of him. He straddled Minho, trying to lose himself in the only thing that felt real and constant between them. 

For a few moments, Minho responded, hands gripping Jisung’s waist. But then he stopped, pulling back and frowning as he noticed something wasn’t right. “Jisung, stop. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Jisung stiffened. His eyes burned, blurring Minho’s face. His voice cracked a little as he spoke: “This is the last time we’re doing this.”

“Wha-what?” Minho stuttered. His heart lurched in his chest. “What do you mean this is the last time?” His eyebrows furrowed together, panic lacing his voice. “Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?” He quickly pulled Jisung off him, scanning him in a rush, desperate to see if he accidentally left a bruise or a mark.

Jisung shook his head. “You didn’t hurt me,” he admitted. Not physically, at least. But everything else that had been happening was eating him alive. It was not his body that ached, but the way his heart reacted every time this happened. The fighting, making up, the sex, and then pretending everything’s okay. “I just think this isn’t good for us.”

Minho froze, throat tightening. The words didn’t make sense to him. “What do you mean?” he pressed, his voice rising. “It’s good. We’re good. Don’t I make you feel good?” His chest ached with the question, terrified of the answer.

“I don’t mean it like that, hyung.” Jisung sighed, avoiding his gaze. Minho’s stomach dropped at the way Jisung looked away, like he couldn’t even bear to meet his eyes. Jisung hesitated before continuing. “I mean this. This thing we have. Whatever it is, because it’s not a relationship.” He let out a bitter chuckle, his eyes were shining with tears. “It’s not good for me, and it’s not good for you either.”

“How do you know it’s not good for me?” he demanded.

“Because I see it,” Jisung said firmly, finally meeting his eyes. The steadiness in his voice only scared Minho more. “The way you react to everything. When I don’t do what you want, when people get close to me. You snap at everyone, you fight with Mia. That’s not healthy, hyung. And me... I don’t even know if this is what I want anymore.”

“You don’t want me anymore, is that it?”

Jisung shook his head, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you, Lee Minho. But you don’t even want me as a boyfriend.”

Minho’s lips parted, the denial burning in his throat but Jisung cut him off before he could get the words out. 

“You want to treat me like I’m your boyfriend, claim me, spend time with me but when I try to do the same, I can’t. You don’t want a relationship, you only want the perks that come with one.” Jisung’s voice broke as he stood and began pulling on his clothes. Minho just stared at him silently. “And that’s valid. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want. But you expect me to treat you like my boyfriend while you keep your freedom, and it’s fucking me up. Because the same rules don’t apply to you.” His hands trembled as he zipped up his pants. “You still talk to that japanese guy, you flirt with everyone, but I can’t do the same. It’s not fair. I know you don’t want a relationship. You want freedom, options, and me at the same time. But that’s not how it works, and that’s not what I want.”

“Jisung, I promise—”

“No.” Jisung cut him off again, sharper this time. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

Minho flinched at the cut off, the feeling of the lump rising in his throat only getting worse. 

“You’re still my best friend,” Jisung said softer now, almost pleading with himself. “We can still hang out, watch anime, horror movies, whatever. But I can’t keep kissing you. I can’t keep doing this.”

“That’s even fucking worse,” Minho muttered, desperation clawing at his chest. The thought of Jisung beside him but untouchable was unbearable for him. 

“That’s all I can offer you.”

“Jisung…” His voice dropped to a whisper. Jisung looked at him, his chest tightening at the sight. Minho’s glossy eyes full of confusion, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Is it not enough?” Minho asked, voice trembling and tears pricking at his eyes. “What I give you... Is it not enough?”

“It’s not that,” Jisung said softly. “It’s just… what you’re giving me isn’t what I want.”

They stayed in silence for a moment before Jisung finally said goodbye. He walked to the door without looking back, each step hitting Minho like a punch to the chest. Minho remained on the bed, frozen, still naked, watching him go. His hands went numb at his sides. Jisung was really leaving. He was really walking away… from this, from him. 

The room felt suffocating as his chest tightened, and the weight of everything crashed down. The fights with Jisung, the fights with Mia and the rest of the members, the jealousy, the kisses, the nights they had spent tangled together, and all the words he never dared to say, or even admit to himself. I should’ve said something, he thought, shoving his face into his hands, fingers digging into his scalp in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. But it didn’t work.

You don’t want a relationship, you only want the perks that come with one. The words echoed in his mind. It wasn’t true. It’s not just perks. It’s Jisung. It has always been. But why couldn’t he say it? The word boyfriend had always felt like a trap, but losing Jisung? That was way worse than dying. 

Minho buried his face in the pillow, clenching his fists as he silently started sobbing. His mind replying every moment, every smile, touch and laugh as the pillow muffled his sobs. And beneath the same, beneath the self loathing, there was one desperate, undeniable truth: he would do anything to make Jisung stay. 

At the airport, Jisung felt the weight of his decision pressing on him. Every time his eyes landed on Minho, regret clawed at his chest. And he had to stop himself from going over, from fixing the way Minho’s shoulder sagged as he walked. It hurt to watch, but not as much as the uncertainty had been hurting him. Not knowing what they were, where they stood, or where they were going had been unbearable, had been too much. This was the right choice, he told himself. For both of them. 

Mia noticed something was off immediately. The way Minho and Jisung avoided each other, the heaviness in their movements, the way Jisung looked at Minho with sad eyes, she could read it all. And as soon as they got through security, she headed straight for Jisung. 

“Hey! I texted you,” she said, pulling him to the side. “Even went to your room. What were you doing? I need to talk to you,” she rushed out, breaking into a huge grin. 

Jisung shrugged, his voice low. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to my phone. What happened?”

The moment he spoke, Mia’s smile faded. She caught the glassiness in his eyes despite the beanie and mask hiding most of his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked carefully. Jisung just stared at her, silence speaking for him. “Did you get into a fight again?”

He shook his head. “I broke up with him.”

“What?!” Mia blurted, a little too loud. A couple of staff members turned to look. “We can’t talk here, they’ll hear,” she said quickly. “Come on. I’ll get you coffee and a snack. You’ll feel better.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders, steadying him, then turned to one of their managers to explain before another panic started.

Once they had their coffee and snacks, Jisung pulled his mask down with a tired sigh.

“What happened?” Mia asked softly, expression full of worry. 

“I just thought it was time,” Jisung admitted, barely above a whisper. “It was hurting not only us but the rest of the group. The dynamic, at least.”

Mia’s chest tightened. “Please tell me you didn’t do this because of last night.”

He shook his head quickly. “It added to it, but that wasn't the reason. I just… I couldn’t stand it anymore. Not knowing what we were, if we were going to be together eventually or what was going to happen. I couldn’t keep pretending. It’s not what I want.”

Mia reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Is that what you told him?”

“Yeah,” Jisung said, taking a sip of coffee to hide the tremor in his voice. “That and a million other things.”

“I’m sorry, Sungie,” Mia murmured. “I know how much you care about him.”

“It’s fine.” He forced out a weak smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better now than later, before it got worse.”

“You wanna cry?” She asked carefully.

He shook his head. “Already did. Honestly, I just want to sleep for a week straight.”

“Same,” she chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Come on, let’s get moving before they call the rescue team.”

Jisung stopped her with a small frown. “Wait. Why were you texting me so much? Did something happen? Did you talk to Chan hyung?”

Mia froze, heat creeping up her cheeks. She nodded, eyes dropping to her coffee cup. “Yeah, I did.”

“So? How did it go? Is he gonna be mad at us forever?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Amelia,” Jisung pressed, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not giving me anything. What did he say? Did he yell at you?”

“Not the government name,” Mia said with wide eyes. Then she let out a small laugh. “He said he was worried. Stuff like that. And then we kissed. No big deal.”

Jisung nearly choked on his coffee. “You what?!”

Mia bit on her lower lip nervously. “I said no big deal—”

“There’s no such thing as no big deal when it comes to kissing Chan,” Jisung cut her off, his voice full of surprise. He grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes wide. “Okay, hold on. How did this even happen? Did he kiss you, or did you kiss him?”

Mia buried her face in her hands. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, yes it does!” He exclaimed “You can’t just drop something like this on me and then expect me to move on!” he hissed, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Tell me, was it good? Was it awkward? Did he overthink it? Wait, don’t tell me he gave you a speech before it happened.”

Mia groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m serious!” Jisung insisted, lowering his voice but leaning even closer. “Come on, I need to know. Did he, like… grab your face all dramatically? Or was it soft? Gentle? Details, Amelia, details.”

Her blush deepened. She picked at the lid of her coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. “It was… nice.”

“Nice?” Jisung repeated, raising a brow. “That’s all I get? Nice? You make it sound like he just handed you a pack of gum.”

Mia finally laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not giving you a play-by-play.”

Jisung sighed, crossing his arms with exaggerated disappointment. “You’re no fun. If it were me, I’d be giving you scene-by-scene analysis.” Then he smirked, softening. “But… you’re smiling while talking about it. So, I guess that’s enough of an answer.”

And as Jisung kept teasing Mia, he found himself forgetting, just for a little while, about the storm in his own life. Her laughter, his own grin slipping out despite himself, created a bubble where the ache didn’t reach him.

Minho, on the other hand, was sitting with his head down, shoulder heavy. He couldn’t stop blinking, trying to force away the burn in his eyes as Jisung’s laugh echoed back to him. 

Two days later, Minho snapped at everyone during rehearsals. His mood darker than ever, and as he stormed off, the atmosphere felt heavy and impossible to ignore. People glanced at Jisung, looking for answers, but what was he supposed to say? That they weren’t together anymore? They had never actually been together to begin with.

Jisung kept his lips pressed shut. He didn’t want to explain it, he didn’t even want to acknowledge what was happening between Minho and him. Every time someone asked, he dodged the question like a true professional. All those media training courses had paid off, he wasn’t going to say anything. And neither was Minho. Which only left the rest of the members confused and lost in their own questions. 

When Chan went after Minho and came back with tense shoulders, Mia decided to step in. The stressful look Chan had was not new, but the way his eyes were full of worry was. His jaw was tight as he replayed the last recording of their practice on a tablet. 

“Hey,” Mia said softly, stepping closer so only he could hear. “Can we talk?”

Chan wanted to say no. He wasn’t ready to talk about what happened the other day, not when he was still trying to make sense of it himself. But the way Mia was looking at him, worried and hesitant, made him pause. Maybe she was overthinking that moment too? 

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked after he guided her to sit down. 

“Minho and Jisung, clearly.”

Relief washed over him. “You know what’s going on?” 

Mia nodded.

“Did they fight again?”

She shook her head. “Jisung broke up with him.”

“They were… together together?” Chan asked, eyebrows lifting with surprise. 

“No.” Mia let out a sigh. “But Jisung told Minho they couldn’t keep doing what they were doing anymore, you know, kissing and everything else. So yeah… basically they broke up. And Minho didn’t want to. That’s why he’s like this.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

Chan leaned back, still processing. “I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say. How’s Jisung?”

“He’s doing okay. Trying to distract himself. He even went to the gym earlier with Changbin.”

“That’s good.”

Mia nodded. “I’ll take care of Jisung. But you… you need to take care of Minho. He won’t listen to anyone else but you.”

“If he wants to listen,” Chan said with a quiet chuckle.

“He will, maybe not now but eventually. You’re his hyung.” Mia gave him a small, gentle smile that made his chest tighten. His heart skipped a beat before he could stop it.

“Thanks for telling me,” he said, returning her smile. “Wish Jisung had trusted me with it himself.”

“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Mia explained. “I think it’s hard for him to explain how he ended something that technically never started. But maybe you can talk to the kids too? Don’t tell them everything, though, just… enough to calm them down and stop the questions”

“They really are all over Jisung, trying to dig out answers.”

“Yeah. And Sungie is doing good, but he’s not good good.”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll talk to everyone. Like always.”

Mia reached out, laying her hand gently on top of his. She gave it a small squeeze. “You’ve got this. You’re the best leader.” 

“Thank you,” Chan smiled. Then, gathering a bit of courage, he decided it was time to be a mature adult and bring up what had been weighing on him. “About the other night…” he started.

Mia let out a small chuckle. “It’s fine, Channie. We don’t have to talk about it right now. You’ve got enough going on.”

“I’m a little stressed,” he admitted with a weak laugh.

“I can tell,” she said, smiling softly. When Mia pulled her hand away, Chan instantly felt the loss of warmth. He didn’t like it. He liked when she was near, when she checked on him, when she texted him late at night telling him to sleep, because of course he was still working. He liked how she looked so calm talking about their kiss, while he was blushing like crazy.

“I’m sorry if it was too much. I know I crossed a boundary,” he sighed. His tone wasn’t regretful, just careful, polite.

“Why are you apologizing?” Mia shook her head. “I told you, I wanted to kiss you too.”

His cheeks went even redder. “Really?”

“Really,” she nodded.

“Good… because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” Chan confessed with a long breath. He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but his mouth betrayed him.

Now it was Mia’s turn to blush. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

“I promise we’ll talk about this properly once I’ve had enough sleep,” he smiled.

Mia’s heart gave a sharp pang at his words. “Okay. No pressure, though.”

“No pressure,” he repeated softly, almost like a vow.

When Mia left his side, her chest felt warm and steady, like she’d just been handed something fragile and precious. She knew Chan was exhausted, burdened with everything, but he had still chosen to be honest with her. He’s been thinking about it too, she repeated in her mind, and it made her grin despite herself. For once, she didn’t overthink, she just let herself feel happy.

And it showed. Things were not the same between them, and everyone could see it. Not just the members or the staff, but even the fans. The way Chan lingered near her during soundcheck, the way he went out of his way on stage to make her laugh or tease her during her parts. He had done all those things before, but now, it was impossible not to miss how Chan wanted, needed, to be next to her. 

Chan felt it too. He had never let himself dwell on it before, at least not as much as he was doing it now, but being around Mia made things feel different. The warmth in his chest when she smiled at him, the comfort of her voice when she reminded him to rest, the ease of just existing by her side. He didn’t have a name for it yet, didn’t want to rush into defining it, but he knew Mia wasn’t just another member anymore. She mattered to him in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Especially that final night of the tour’s leg in Anaheim. As they lined up for the ending bow, Chan ran across the stage, gently nudging Felix aside just so he could stand next to Mia. Without hesitation, he reached for her hand, holding it as they bent forward together. The moment was caught on countless phones, and by the next morning the clip had gone viral. Fans everywhere claimed Chan was far gone.

And maybe he was. But for the first time, he didn’t mind.

*** 

August 2022

Mia had a soft spot for all the members, especially Jisung. She couldn’t say no to him, no matter how hard she tried. So when he asked her to help him record a new demo for the third time that week, she only sighed and asked what time he needed her there. 

Between recording new music, demoing Jisung’s endless ideas, her own singing lessons, and now modeling lessons, Mia barely had time to see Chan outside of work. Not that things had escalated between them, they had changed, yes. But everything else was still the same, they were not a couple. If anything, Chan was busier than ever and that was only on him. He was a perfectionist and an overachiever, always juggling too much. A new mixtape had just dropped last week, he was putting the final touches on a mini album for October, and he’d already started recording tracks for December’s release. 

Still, even with the lack of time together, she and Chan texted constantly. Flirted constantly. And when the members teased him about it, Chan never corrected them. And every time, Mia’s cheeks burned red. 

Now she sat beside Jisung in the studio, her iPad balanced on her lap while Jisung scribbled furiously into his really worn lyrics book. The thing was already halfway filled, and Mia knew he’d been writing at least ten pages a day since things with Minho ended.

“Jisung,” she groaned. “Can we just go get some food? You’ve been on the same page for twenty minutes.”

Without looking up, he muttered: “Just order something. I can’t go anywhere, I’m almost done with this song.”

“Isn’t this your third one today?” Mia frowned.

“Yes, and?” He shot her a brief glare before going back to his notebook.

“You’re gonna run out of neurons that write songs,” she huffed.

“Impossible,” he muttered, already lost in his lyrics. 

Mia sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching him scrabble something on the page. He was good at this, turning everything he felt into music. But lately, it seemed like he was trying too hard, pushing himself to the point of exhaustion just to stay busy. Maybe it was easier to fill the silence with words and melodies than to deal with the quiet left behind by someone else.  

She knew he was coping the only way he knew how and she didn't blame him. What they had wasn't simple, and though it wasn't her place to judge, she wondered if Minho was doing the same somewhere else, trying to drown the feeling instead of healing it. 

Mia exhaled softly, resting her chin on her hand. "You are really something, Han Jisung."

He tilted his head looking at her a little confused. Then glanced at her iPad screen, a clothing site was open. "I thought you were going to write something too."

“I was, but I got stuck.” Mia shrugged. “Shopping clears my mind.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “You’re never going to get better at writing if you don’t push yourself.”

Mia gasped dramatically. “Why is Chan rubbing off on you? You sounded just like him.”

“No, I did not.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Let me see what you wrote.”

Mia instantly hugged her iPad to her chest. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal.”

“You said you wanted my help.”

“And I do! But not when I’m writing about something personal.”

“All songs are personal,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “Just show me!” He lunged for it, but she twisted away. “Do you want Chan hyung’s help instead? Is that why you won’t show me?”

Mia shook her head quickly. “I don’t show him my lyrics when they’re about him.”

Jisung froze, his eyebrows rising. “Oh.” A grin tugged at his lips. “Now you have to show me.”

Before Mia could stop him, Jisung snatched the iPad from her hands and typed her code with ease.

“Throwing petals like do you love me or not, head spinning and it doesn’t know when to stop ’cause you said forever babe did you mean it or not. Hold on, hold on…” Jisung read aloud, his voice softening as the words settled between them.

“Give it back! Stop reading!” Mia tried to snatch it from him, but he held it out of reach.

Her face was burning with embarrassment. Not because Jisung didn't know she liked Chan, but because he didn't know how deep it went. Those words weren't just about some crush or a passing feeling, they were about the person who'd become her anchor without even realizing it. Chan wasn't just someone she liked, he was someone she looked up to. 

Every word he said out loud made her want to disappear a little more, because those lyrics were everything she couldn't say to Chan directly. 

“You leave me on read babe but I still get the message. Instead of a line it’s three dots but I can connect them. If you need time, just take your time. Baby, I get it. I get it.”

When he finally stopped, Mia had buried her face in her hands, her ears burning crimson.

“Mia,” Jisung said gently.

“What?” Her voice was muffled behind her palms.

“Look at me.”

“What for?”

“Just do it. Please.”

She reluctantly lowered her hands, exhaling.

“This is really good,” Jisung said, all traces of teasing gone. “Like… really good. You need to finish it, and we need to show it to Chan hyung.”

Mia shook her head furiously. “I won’t show that to Chan.”

“Whether it’s about him or not doesn’t matter.” Jisung leaned forward, sincere. “They’re good.”

Mia sighed, she knew he wouldn’t play with something like this. “I’ll finish it, and then we’ll show it to Chan,” she promised. 

“Why not finish it now?” Jisung insisted.

“Because my brain hurts!” she scoffed. “Just finish yours so we can go get food.”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna finish it,” he admitted.

“Why? Your brain hurts too?” She nudged him lightly.

“Kinda.”

“What’s wrong, Jisungie?” Mia asked softly.

“The same things, you know.” He shrugged, eyes glued to his notebook.

She decided to push a little. “Listen, you know I’m always gonna help you with demos, lyrics, whatever you want,” she said, her tone gentler now. “But the main reason I’ve been saying yes to coming here lately is because… I don’t want to leave you alone in case you actually want to talk instead of just writing sad breakup songs.”

Jisung didn’t answer, just stared at her with those sad, quiet eyes.

“I’m always here for you,” she added. “If you want to talk, or if you don’t. Even if all you want is to keep writing, I’ll be right here too. I just—” she exhaled, smiling faintly “I hate not knowing how to help you when I can tell something’s bothering you.”

He looked down for a moment before changing the subject. “Are you done filming your 2 Kids Room parts?”

Mia sighed, realizing he wasn’t ready to open up. “Almost. I have two more to do, and one’s with Chan.”

Jisung nodded. “My last one is tomorrow,” he said quietly. “And it’s with Minho.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “You didn’t film that one already?”

He shook his head. “Now you understand why I’m nervous.”

“Oh, Ji…” she said softly. “There’s nothing to worry about, really. It’s not like you’re gonna be completely alone. The staff’s right outside, and if things get tense, they’ll stop filming. It’s their job to make sure it doesn’t get weird.”

Jisung nodded slowly, but his leg bounced under the desk. “Yeah, but talking to him in front of everyone is different. When it’s just us, it feels… heavier.”

“I get that,” Mia admitted. “But you don’t have to make it about you two. Talk about the others,” she suggested. “That’s what I did when I filmed mine with Minho. He wasn’t rude or cold, just… professional. And you are too.”

He finally cracked a small smile.

“See? Everything’s gonna be okay,” she said. “You’ll survive it, and then we’ll go get boba, my treat.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Mia nodded.

Nothing was okay.

And Jisung barely survived.

Having Minho stare at him lovingly while they talked about random things they’d done together felt like his own personal hell. Every word, every look, it all hurt and healed him at the same time. And even though Minho looked fine, Jisung knew better. The constant way his fingers brushed over his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose meant he was nervous. It was a habit. One Jisung knew too well.

The first thirty minutes were the worst. Minho kept reaching for his hand like it was instinct, holding it, intertwining their fingers, brushing his thumb over his skin. And every single time, Jisung lost his train of thought. At some point, he had to pull his hand away because it was happening too much, and he couldn’t keep stopping mid-sentence just to breathe and remember what he was saying. After that, both ended up hugging pillows, pretending to focus on the conversation, while Jisung nervously babbled about anything that crossed his mind. 

Then, the first real thing happened.

“You know you have a weird side, right?” Jisung said suddenly. “Don’t people who like you know this?”

Minho crossed his arms, looking at him with mock offense. “No, I don’t have a weird side.”

“You’re weird,” Jisung insisted.

“No.”

“That’s what I like about you. I like that you’re weird.”

It slipped out. The words were out before Jisung could catch them, and the second they hung in the air, he wanted to take them back. But it was too late. The way Minho looked at him, soft and teasing, his lips slightly curved, made Jisung’s heart thump against his ribs.

“Am I not perfect?” Minho asked, flashing that familiar flirty smile.

“You are rare, but you are unique,” Jisung continued somehow, his mouth moving faster than his brain. “I’m normal, right? Compared to you?”

“Hmph.” Minho tilted his head, that gentle, disarming look settling on his face, the same one that always made Jisung give in. It was that look, the one that had always made him say yes, the one that never let him walk away. “I like normal.”

For a second, the world stopped. The air went still, heavy.

Jisung heard the door open, probably a staff member about to interrupt like they always did when things got too real, so he burst out laughing.

“What are you talking about?” he said, still laughing a little too hard.

Minho started laughing too, but his knee pressed against Jisung’s. A quiet reminder that it was real, that what he said was real.

The staff lingered near the door for a few minutes before leaving again, and Jisung’s nerves spiked. Were they going to get in trouble for that? It wasn’t anything too personal, but still. They’d probably cut it out later anyway.

Jisung eventually scooted to the far end of the couch, needing space, needing to breathe. Any touch from Minho (his hand, his knee, his arm) was enough to make his stomach twist. He needed distance.

Except he slipped again.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Do you still think I’m your soulmate?”

“True soulmates don’t think about those things,” Minho replied, calm and unbothered. 

His answer made Jisung frown a little. “Why?”

“Even if you don’t think about it, you still get along well and your body acts on its own,” Minho said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh, that’s why you act before you think!” Jisung teased. “I got you now. I finally understand.”

They both laughed. Minho threw a pillow at him, Jisung caught it and swung back, and suddenly they were laughing for real. Too loud, too close, Jisung standing on his knees on the couch as he tried to hit Minho with the pillow, forgetting the cameras for a second. 

It happened too fast, before Jisung even realized it, Minho’s arm was around his waist, pulling him in, and then their lips met.

For a moment, it felt like coming home again.

And then the door opened, and the manager’s voice cut through the air, freezing everything.

Bang Chan ran his hand through his hair for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes while Minho rambled in front of him. There was a knot forming between his shoulder blades, he couldn’t tell if it was from all the stress he’d been under or because he pushed himself too hard at the gym the night before. Either way, he needed a massage. A moment to just rest.

While Minho kept talking about Jisung, about what had happened during the filming, and why they shouldn’t be scolded or punished or whatever, Chan’s mind started to drift. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, silently listing the things he still had to do: finish a demo, approve soundmixes, and reply to three emails from the label. His brain felt like a computer running too many tabs.

He knew both Jisung and Minho had slipped. It had happened before, and it wasn’t the end of the world, they could just edit the footage. But even knowing that, he couldn’t shake the heaviness sitting in his chest.

“Hyung, are you even listening to me?” Minho’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Huh?” Chan blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I am.”

“What did I just say?” Minho narrowed his eyes, already knowing the answer.

Chan sighed. “You were saying if someone had to be scolded, it should be you, not Jisung, because you kissed him.” Minho looked pleased that he’d actually heard, but Chan didn’t stop there. “But Jisung kissed you back, so…”

“Hyung, please. He barely talks to me. I don’t want to give him more reasons to ignore me.”

“Listen,” Chan said, exhaling deeply, “I’m not gonna scold either of you. You’re not kids anymore. You know your actions have consequences.” His tone softened but stayed firm. “All I’m going to ask is that it doesn’t happen again.”

“I—”

“And I know it wasn’t intentional,” Chan cut in. “You slipped, or whatever. But it shouldn’t happen in front of cameras, or when you’re working. You have to be professionals.”

“I understand,” Minho nodded. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“And also, Minho,” Chan deadpanned, “you’re not dating Jisung. That doesn’t make it better or worse. But it’s a reminder, he asked you to stop, and you should respect that.”

“But he kissed me back!” Minho argued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chan said quietly. “You know what he wanted from you, and you didn’t want the same. So now, you respect that.”

Silence settled between them.

“I think I’m dying inside,” Minho said suddenly. “Every day I wake up and he’s still gone, I think I die a little more.”

“Please don’t say that,” Chan muttered, rubbing his temples.

“It’s true,” Minho sighed. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“What is it that you want, Lee Minho?” Chan asked, meeting his eyes.

“Him. Jisung. It’s always been him.”

“In the same way he wants you?” Chan asked softly. Minho hesitated, and Chan just nodded. “See? That’s what you need to figure out.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Start by talking to him,” Chan said. “About everything, and apologize.”

“Apologize?” Minho groaned.

“Yes, apologize.”

“But, hyung—”

The door opened before he could finish. It was strange, no one usually walked in without knocking. Except maybe Jisung or Changbin.

Minho visibly relaxed when he saw who it was. The new producer they've been working with.

“Sorry, I thought Chris was alone,” the guy said.

“It’s fine,” Chan replied, shaking his head. He turned back to Minho. “Apologize.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll apologize.” Minho stood up, dragging his feet toward the door.

“Also to Skiji!” Chan called after him.

“Okay, dad,” Minho muttered with a roll of his eyes as he left.

Chan sighed and leaned back again. Dan, the new producer, chuckled.

“You okay, man?” he asked in English.

Chan nodded, offering a tired smile. “Yeah. Just... you know. Leader stuff.”

Chan exhaled slowly as he stared at the door Minho had just walked out of. He was supposed to be the one keeping everything together, keeping them together, but lately, even he wasn’t sure what holding on was supposed to look like. 

Dan placed his laptop on the desk and started connecting a few cables, humming quietly.

Chan rubbed his eyes, hoping to clear his head before diving back into work, but the silence between them stretched until Dan finally broke it.

“You look like your brain’s running a marathon,” he said casually, glancing up from the screen. “Wanna tell me what’s going on, Chris?”

Chan gave a small laugh, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a lot on my plate, as usual.”

“I figured.” Dan spun the chair next to him and sat down. “You can vent if you want. I might not know the idol industry like you do, but I was a trainee once. I get the basics. Same pressure, less spotlight.”

Chan hesitated. It wasn’t often he talked to anyone outside the group about their internal messes, but something about the quiet tone in Dan’s voice made it feel safe. He sighed and leaned back.

“It’s... complicated,” he started. “Minho and Jisung had been dealing with stuff for a while now. Personal stuff. They kissed while filming and it’s not just that, but everything that came before.”

Dan nodded slowly, signaling for him to keep going.

“They had a fight on tour. A big one,” Chan continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “And since then, things haven’t been the same. Jisung says he’s fine, and he is, mostly. He’s still working, writing, doing what he has to do. But he’s not good. Not really. And Minho…” Chan sighed, pressing his fingers against his temple. “Minho’s just angry at everything. He snaps easily. It’s like he doesn’t know how to exist without Jisung, but also doesn’t know how to fix it.”

Dan hummed, thoughtful. “Sounds rough. Especially when you all live and work so close.”

“Yeah,” Chan muttered. “Everything affects everything. The mood in the room changes if they’re in it. Even if they’re trying to act normal, you can feel it. And I can’t tell them to just get over it because… I get it. I know what it’s like to have feelings that mess with your head.”

He caught himself before saying too much and cleared his throat, going back to his laptop.

Dan leaned back, smirking faintly. “That’s exactly why I quit training,” he said. “The idol world’s not for me. You guys don’t just have to perform, you have to pretend too. Pretend to be okay, pretend to not feel things you actually feel. Especially when it comes to dating.”

Chan’s gaze flicked up, wary.

“Dating’s poison in this industry,” he continued, tapping a pen against the desk. “Even more if it’s between members. I’ve seen it happen before. Boy groups, girl groups, it’s all the same. You start liking someone you see every day, and it feels real, but once it goes south, you’ve just wrecked everything. The group dynamic, the music, the chemistry, the trust. Everything.”

Chan stayed silent as he continued speaking. 

Dan shrugged like it was nothing. “If you break up, everyone suffers. If you try to hide it, it eats you alive. And if fans ever find out? Career suicide. No way around it.” He looked up from the console and grinned like it was a simple truth. “It’s probably even worse for co-ed groups. You’ve got, what? Eight guys and one girl? You should make sure she doesn’t date anyone in the group, man. That’d be a disaster waiting to happen. Fans already had their favorites before she joined, right? If something happens and it doesn’t work out, the fallout would be insane. It’d ruin her, and it’d ruin you guys too.”

Dan’s tone was light, almost joking, but every word landed like a punch to the chest.

“I mean, think about it,” Dan went on. “Is it really worth throwing away everything you’ve worked for because you started liking someone in your own group? Half the time it’s not even real. You all spend so much time together, rehearsing, performing, living side by side… you start confusing comfort for love. It’s biology.”

Chan forced a weak chuckle, just so Dan wouldn’t notice the shift in his expression. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

Dan smiled, satisfied, and turned back to his laptop, mumbling something about checking the mixes but Chan couldn’t focus anymore.

His chest felt heavy, cold, like something had been ripped out and replaced with doubt. He tried to keep working, but every line of code on the mixing screen blurred together. Dan’s words kept looping in his mind.

You should make sure Mia doesn’t date anyone in the group.

If it doesn’t work out, the fallout would be insane.

Half the time it’s not even real.

Was that what this was? Was Mia just someone he’d gotten too close to because they spent every waking hour together? He thought about the way she smiled at him, the way she worried about him, the way she looked when she sang. The way she said I wanted to kiss you. It felt real then, so painfully, terrifyingly real.

But now, with Dan’s voice echoing in his head, it felt foolish. Dangerous even. What if it all blew up in his face? What if she regretted it? What if he ruined everything? He was the leader. He was supposed to be the one keeping the line clear. He wasn’t supposed to be the reason it blurred.

Chan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the console lights flickering in rhythm. His throat felt tight.

It’s not worth it, he told himself. It’s not real. It can’t be.

He thought of Minho and Jisung, how something that once made them happy had now made everything harder. How fragile it all was. How easily something beautiful could turn into something that broke the group apart.

And for the first time since that night, Chan wished he could take it back. The kiss, the way he touched her, the warmth that came with it.

Because if Dan was right, if it was all confusion, proximity, and adrenaline, then it wasn’t love. It was a mistake.

And he couldn’t afford a mistake like that.

Chapter Text

Chan wasn’t overthinking, not anymore. What he was having was a full spiral down a rabbit hole it was not going to be easy to get out of.

Twenty-five year old Christopher Chahn Bahng wasn’t just neglecting his own feelings and convincing himself they were not real, he was also ignoring the girl who had made him spiral in the first place. 

He had been locking himself in the studio for hours, skipping practice and group meetings, ignoring not only Mia’s text but also the rest of the members. All because he wasn’t ready to face her yet. But eventually, he had to step out of his self-imposed exile, and that day was today. All thanks to Changbin. 

“Who’s coming to record their parts next?” Dan, the new producer, asked. 

“Mia,” Changbin replied from the couch while he furiously typed on his phone. 

“And that’s my cue to go,” Chan muttered, standing from his chair. 

“Shit,” Changbin cursed suddenly, then looked up at Chan. “Hyung…” he began, his expression pleading. “Is it possible for you to work with Mia today?” 

Chan frowned, reaching for his bag beside him. “What?”

“Please?” He asked again, voice desperate.

“Changbin, you said you’d do Mia’s parts with her…” Chan tried to sound firm, but the truth was he didn’t want to see her. Not yet. 

“I know, but I really, really need to go,” Changbin begged. “Come on, hyung. I’ll work with Seungmin instead,” he offered. Seungmin was a perfectionist, never satisfied with his parts, even if he nailed them on the first try. Working with him always took hours. Chan shook his head. “Please, don’t tell me you don’t want to spend time with Mia. She’s been complaining about how busy you are lately,” he whispered. 

Chan froze for a moment. So she had been talking about him with the others? 

“I can do it,” Dan offered, turning around on his seat, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Chan didn’t like it at all. “You both can go, I’ll stay with her.”

“Aren’t you almost off too?” Chan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, but…” He shrugged casually. “I can stay a little longer.”

“See? Dan can work with her!” Changbin said quickly, relief washing over his face. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” He grabbed his stuff and bolted for the door. “Thank you, hyung!”

He was gone before Chan could even respond.

“You can go, Chris. I’ve got it,” Dan reassured him. But the trust Chan had felt for him the other day was gone. “And it actually works out. I haven’t really worked with Mia yet, and it’d be nice to, you know, get to know her.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Chan thought. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll stay,” he said flatly. “You can go, though.”

“Maybe I could stick around too,” Dan said, leaning back in his chair. “I wanna see what all the fuss is about her voice. Because she’s never on schedule when I am.” He smirked, again. 

Chan could tell he had overheard what Changbin had said and now was digging for more. 

“She likes working with Jisung,” he explained with a shrug. “They’re best friends. It’s always him or me.”

“Mhm,” the older hummed. 

And just like if they had summoned her, Mia walked in after knocking twice. The smile that formed on her lips as soon as she saw Chan made his heart flutter. Has she always been this cute?

“Hey! Talking about the queen and she walks in!” Dan cheered, instantly pulling Mia’s attention away from him.

“Hi, oppa!” She greeted him with a smile, not the same one she gave to Chan though, and he knew it. His lips curled into a smirk before he could stop himself. 

“Please, you don’t have to speak Korean with me,” Dan said, switching effortlessly to English. Like he always did with Chan, Felix, and now, apparently, Mia too. “Let me hear that awesome accent.”

Chan wanted to roll his eyes.

“Accent?” Mia laughed, amused. “I don’t have an accent, you do!”

Dan laughed back, the sound hollow, Mia followed politely. Chan decided he had seen enough.

“Dan hyung, you can go now,” he said, in Korean. “I’ll work with Mia.”

“I don’t mind staying a little longer,” Dan smiled, faking innocence. “I can help you out.”

“I don’t need help, but thank you,” Chan replied, smiling politely, too polite to be sincere.

For a split second, Dan’s expression shifted, and Chan caught it.

“Alright, fine,” Dan said, grabbing his things. “I’ll see you guys later. Bye, Mia.”

He watched as Dan winked at her. Mia, on the other hand, only gave a polite nod, and the door closed behind him.

The room stayed in silence for a bit. 

“I thought I was going to work with Binnie today,” Mia said finally.

Chan’s jaw tightened. “He had something to do, so you’re stuck with me now.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, crossing her arms. “And you’re gonna keep that face the whole time?”

“What face?” He frowned.

“That one,” she pointed at him. “Why are you even making that face?”

“‘Hi, oppa!’” Chan mocked her in a high-pitched tone. “What was that?”

Mia burst out laughing. “You’re the one who always gives me crap about honorifics! I’m using them.”

“Not to flirt,” he muttered under his breath.

“I was not flirting!” she gasped. Then her eyebrow rised, teasingly. “Oh my god. Are you… jealous?”

“Jealous?” Chan scoffed. “No.”

“You totally are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“That’s so adorable. Do you want me to call you Channie oppa?” She grinned mischievously.

“You’re older than me,” Chan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Still. If it stops you from being jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you sure, Channie oppa?” She sing songed.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“What—?”

Before she could finish, Chan was up and next to her, fingers finding her sides and tickling her. Mia shrieked, collapsing into laughter as she fell back onto the couch, Chan hovering over her as she tried to slap his hands away.

“No, Channie! Stop!” she laughed uncontrollably.

“Say please,” he teased, still tickling her.

“Please, Channie oppa,” she managed between giggles.

“You’re impossible,” Chan sighed, finally stopping.

“Am I?” she whispered looking up at him.

He froze. His hands were still resting on her hips. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier. Mia’s eyes flicked to his lips then back to his eyes, she leaned in slowly. And just as their breath mixed together, Chan pulled away. 

He pushed himself back a little too fast, sitting up before Mia could even register what happened. The warmth that had filled the room a second ago vanished, replaced by the sharp chill of silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, avoiding her eyes. "We shouldn’t— I can’t—" He tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. 

"What?" Mia asked, confusion written all over her face.

"This." He gestured vaguely between them. "It’s not— it can’t happen."

"Why are you saying it like that?" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she pulled up her legs, hugging them close. "Like it’s something wrong."

"Because it is wrong," he said too quickly, her eyes widening. "You’re part of the group, Mia. You’re my responsibility. I shouldn’t have let it get this far."

Her chest tightened. Was she having a nightmare? Was this real?

"What about… before?" Mia asked quietly. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word kiss.

"That’s something that shouldn’t have happened," he sighed. Chan looked at her for a moment, but he couldn’t bear the sight. Her eyebrows furrowed together, eyes glossy, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. "We were both in a vulnerable moment."

"Vulnerable?" she repeated, the word getting her attention. 

"Yeah." He nodded, almost to convince himself. "Everything that happened, Jisung and you sneaking out, Minho and you fighting, the meeting. It was so much pressure, it was… I don’t know. A moment of vulnerability."

"A mistake," Mia said softly.

Chan nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry," he said again, like the word could fix everything he just shattered.

Mia didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him. But the tears were already prickling at the corners of her eyes.

When she didn’t answer, Chan got up and sat back in his chair in front of the console. "Let’s get to work, then," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"I have to go," she mumbled under her breath.

"Huh?" Chan turned around, confused. She was already grabbing her bag and her phone. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go," she repeated, louder this time.

"Mia, we have to record your parts—"

"I can’t stay. I’m sorry, I can’t."

She was already reaching for the door handle when he tried to stop her.

"We have a lot to cover, and the deadline—"

He reached for her, but Mia pulled away so fast it startled him.

"I really don’t fucking care, Christopher. I have to go."

He could’ve run after her, could’ve tried to explain what was going through his mind. But he didn’t, instead, he stayed frozen in place, feet glued to the floor, heart aching in his chest as he stared at the door. 

As soon as she walked out of the building, Mia pulled out her phone with trembling hands. Jisung picked up on the second ring.

"What's up? Are you done recording already?"

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice tight.

"I'm at the gym with Minho hyung. Why?"

"Can you come to my dorm?" She rushed out as she crossed the sidewalk, not caring about the cars coming. 

"Uh, I just got here..." Jisung hesitated. 

"Okay," she gulped, her throat burning. The only thing worse than crying in front of Chan was crying in the street, where anyone could see her fall apart. "Can you come when you're done?"

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone instantly shifting.

"Just... come," she whispered, her voice cracking at the end.

"Okay, I will,” he paused. “Are you crying?"

"Not yet."

She could hear Jisung saying something else, but the words blurred together, the background noise to the chaos in her head. She just wanted to get home. To crawl into bed and forget any of this had happened. Luckily, when she called a cab, one stopped almost immediately, like the universe wanted her to get home too.

"Okay, see you later," she said quickly, hanging up before he could ask more questions.

She got the door code wrong twice. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “Come on,” she muttered under her breath, forcing herself to focus. 

She took a deep breath and tried again. The lock clicked open. Relief flooded her chest, the last thing she needed right now was to be stuck outside, waiting for someone to save her.

She stepped into the quiet dorm, the sound of the door clicking shut behind her was louder than usual.

For a moment, Mia just stood there. The stillness pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She wanted to cry, to scream, to ask him what the hell had that been, but what would she even say? Why did you kiss me if you were going to act like I was a mistake? Why did you make me feel like it meant something when it clearly didn't?

She slid down against the wall, her bag still hanging from her shoulder. Her mind kept replaying his words, each one carving a new cut inside her chest. You're part of the group, Mia. You're my responsibility. 

Responsibility. That's what she was to him. Not someone he cared about, not someone special, just another thing he had to take care of. 

She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to stop the tears before they fell, but they burned their way out anyway. 

It was stupid. What was she even expecting? That he would confess something? That he would look at her the way she looked at him? She was stupid, so stupid. She should've known better. She should've known from the start that he was different. Chan was wiser, focused, and controlled. He was careful with everything, his words, his choices, his people. And she had been naïve enough to think she could be the exception. That maybe, beneath all that control, there was a part of him that saw her too. That wanted her. 

But of course, she wasn't enough. She was never enough. 

Not talented enough, not mature enough, not someone worth risking anything for. Mia was just... the new member. The one who still tripped over choreographies sometimes, who froze up in interviews, who tried too hard to prove she belonged. Why would he ever see her as anything else? Maybe he had realized that too late, maybe that's why Chan pulled away so fast, like her touch burned. 

Her throat tightened.

We were both in a vulnerable moment. That was what he said, like it had been some sort of accident, a lapse of judgement. Not a connection, not something real... just vulnerability. 

Maybe she had read too much into it, maybe she had confused kindness for affection, comfort for something more. Maybe Chan was just doing what he always did, taking care of everyone, making sure they all felt seen, included. That was what made him such a good leader. And, maybe, probably, she had mistaken that for love. 

A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. She should've known better. 

Because no matter how much she tried, she would always be the one that cared too much. The one who wanted too much. And Chan... he will always have walls she would never be allowed to climb. 

Mia dragged her knees to her chest, burying her face there. She wondered if he was already working again, headphones on, pretending like nothing had happened. He probably was. That was Chan, always moving, always fixing, always running from things that scared him, or couldn't control.  

And maybe she was just one of those things now. 

By the time the other members got to the dorm, Mia had moved from the living room to her room, her quiet sobs echoing against the walls.

Felix froze first, one hand still on the door handle. The sound hit him right in the chest, soft, uneven, and completely out of place in their home. He turned around, signing for them to stay quiet. 

“What—?” Seungmin started, his voice low but confused. Then he heard it too. “Is that…?” He didn’t finish. Felix just nodded, confirming what they were all thinking.

Mia was crying.

“Should we…?” Jeongin whispered, eyes flicking toward her closed door.

“Yeah, we should,” Felix said. 

They dropped their stuff in the living room and walked toward Mia’s door, stopping right outside.

“Knock!” Seungmin whisper-shouted.

“I’m not gonna knock, you do it!” Felix hissed back in the same tone. “Jeongin, you knock.”

The youngest frowned. “Why me?”

Then a voice came from the other side, faint but steady. “Just come in, guys.”

They froze.

Seungmin blinked, then sighed and turned the handle. The door creaked open, and they all peeked in, unsure what they’d find.

Mia was sitting on her bed, knees drawn up, her hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Her face was flushed and raw, eyes glassy, nose red. The sight of her like that made all three of them stop in their tracks.

It was rare to see her anything but composed, always teasing, laughing, scolding them for leaving a mess in the kitchen. Seeing her like this felt wrong, like watching something crack open that wasn’t supposed to.

“Mia, what happened?” Felix rushed to her side, wrapping her in a hug immediately.

“Do you feel sick? Are you homesick again?” Seungmin asked, sitting at the edge of her bed with Jeongin beside him. “Is your halmoni okay?”

Mia shook her head. “No, it’s not that,” she gasped for air, trying to stop sobbing long enough to answer. “She’s okay.”

“Then what is it?” Felix asked softly, brushing her hair back. “Why are you crying like this?”

Jeongin, panicked and desperate to do something, pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Chan hyung.”

The moment she heard that, Mia shot up, eyes wide. “No, no, please don’t do that. Please don’t call him.”

The urgency in her voice made Jeongin stop mid motion. He looked at her, confused, phone still in hand.

“Don’t tell me…” Felix started, his voice trailing off. Mia nodded, and another wave of sobs broke out as she buried her face against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Felix whispered, holding her tighter.

Seungmin and Jeongin exchanged glances, searching for answers in Felix’s face. He just shook his head.

“Does Chan hyung have to do with this?” Jeongin asked finally, voice low, disappointment creeping in. “Did he make you cry like this?”

Mia sniffed, pulling away from Felix. Her face was streaked with tears. “It doesn’t matter if he did or not. I don’t want you guys to hold grudges against him. It’s not his fault.”

“Noona,” Jeongin said, tone sharper than usual, “if he made you cry like this, it is his fault.”

Seungmin nodded beside him, jaw tight. He looked angrier than he usually ever did.

“Jeongin-ah,” Mia said softly. “He’s your hyung and your leader.”

“And you’re our noona,” Seungmin shot back.

Felix finally spoke up again, trying to be the calm one. “Guys… Don't push it. We shouldn't be taking sides if it's something between Mia and Chan. Like she said, no grudges.”

But even as he said it, the words burned his throat. He didn’t believe them. How could he? Chan was supposed to protect her, all of them. What could he have possibly done to make her fall apart like this?

“Fine,” Jeongin muttered through gritted teeth. “But can I ask something?”

Mia nodded.

“This means you guys aren’t… together?”

Her lips trembled, but she managed to nod. “We’re not. And I hope you guys just forget about everything that happened. Delete that group chat too.”

“You know about the group chat?” Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mia nodded. “Bin told me.”

“Snitch,” Seungmin scoffed, and it actually made Mia chuckle. Seungmin smiled triumphantly.

“But why?” Jeongin pressed, his voice a mix between frustration and confusion. He couldn’t believe it, first Minho and Jisung, now Mia and Chan too. Were all his hyungs, the people he looked up to, assholes?

Mia sighed. “If I tell you, do you promise you won’t get mad at him?”

Jeongin nodded. “I’ll be silently mad at him.”

“That works,” Mia muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve. “He just decided that what we had, whatever it was, was a mistake. Something that shouldn’t be happening because he’s the leader of the group.”

The room fell silent again, until—

“What the fuck?!” Jisung’s voice cut through from the hallway.

They all turned, startled, as he stepped into the room, expression dark.

“Is that what he really said?” he demanded.

“Mate, what the fuck,” Felix muttered. “We didn’t even hear you come in.”

Jisung shrugged, eyes still on Mia. 

“That,” she said hoarsely, “and a few other things.” She rubbed her eyes, voice trembling again. “Are you here alone?”

He nodded. “When I heard you, I knew something was wrong, so I came alone. And brought this.” He held up a tub of ice cream.

Mia let out a watery chuckle. “Thank you.”

“What about the kiss?” Jisung asked, frowning.

“A moment of vulnerability, apparently,” she managed to say. Then her voice broke, and she started crying again.

Jisung pulled her into his chest without thinking. He could feel her shaking, and something inside him twisted, ugly and protective. His hands clenched into fists on her back, nails biting into his palms. On the other side, Felix just let out a shaky sigh. What the fuck was going on in this group?

“They kissed?” Jeongin whispered to Seungmin, who only nodded. “What the fuck is wrong with that man?”

“He’s a libra,” Jisung muttered dryly, trying to make her smile. And somehow, she did, a small, broken chuckle that made his chest ache.

Silence filled the room again. Only Mia’s quiet sobs, her uneven breathing. It hurt to listen to, it hurt worse to not know how to fix it.

After a few moments, she wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, voice hoarse. “I need to stop. And you guys need to go rest. I’ll be fine, and everything will be fine. I don’t want any of you to be angry at Christopher because of this, okay?”

Even though none of them agreed, they all nodded anyway.

“Even if he’s being an idiot?” Jisung scoffed.

“Sungie, stop,” Mia said quietly. “He’s your hyung.” Her tone softened, but her eyes were still wet. “I’m serious. This was between me and him. I don’t want any of you to treat him differently. He’s our leader. And the fault isn’t entirely his, I also got my hopes up even though I knew how risky this was. It was stupid of me.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Felix frowned immediately.

She gave a hollow laugh. “Let’s be honest, I’m not even his type.”

Jisung pulled back, frowning like she’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. “What do you mean? What’s his type?”

“You know… pretty girls.”

“Mia, you are pretty.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, defeated. “Pretty girls with perfect skin, perfect hair, impossibly skinny. You know, like Soyeon.”

All four of them groaned at once.

“Noona, you’re too pretty for him,” Seungmin said, and they all nodded like it was fact.

“Yeah, you know how many times I’ve been asked for your number?” Felix said beside her.

“Too many times,” Jeongin added, crossing his arms.

“Who asked for my number?” Mia frowned.

“Who didn’t?” Jisung chuckled. “Other idols, dancers, trainees. You know the new producer, Dan? He’s always asking about you.”

“Really?” she asked, eyebrows raising. Jisung nodded. “Why didn’t you give it to any of them? All those idols, dancers, trainees?”

Jisung hesitated. Felix answered instead, quietly. “Because we thought you and Chan were going to be a thing.”

“Well, not anymore.”

The room fell still again. Felix muttered a soft, “I’m sorry.”

Mia sighed, eyes dropping to her hands. “It’s okay. Like I said, it was between me and him. And now it’s not. So no more teasing, no more stupid group chats, okay?”

They nodded again.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she said softly. “I’m gonna be okay.”

It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

After a while, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin left the room quietly, leaving Mia and Jisung alone. 

“You’re staying tonight?” she asked, voice small.

“Of course I’m staying,” he said immediately, like it wasn’t even a question.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I got you. Always.” He reached for her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her fingers were cold.

“So… you were with Minho?” she asked after a long moment, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah,” Jisung sighed.

“Care to explain?”

“I have no fucking idea what’s going on,” he admitted. “But he’s being different.”

“Different how?” Mia pressed, curious.

“Just… different,” Jisung said with a helpless shrug. “You know. Complicated.”

Mia let out a quiet laugh. “I know complicated.”

He huffed a small laugh too. “Yeah. We both do.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, still sad, but softer. The kind that happens when crying doesn’t fix anything, but at least you’re not alone anymore.

The life of an idol was never easy.

Train, record, rehearse, eat healthy, look good, be polite, then repeat. And all of that while pretending you are doing fine? That was hell.

Mia understood now why some idols didn’t bother having a personal life. It was safer not to feel anything at all. Just work, smile, do it all over again. But that morning, she decided she wasn’t an idol. Not today. Today she was just a girl who got rejected by her crush, and she had every right to stay home, hide under her blankets, and do absolutely nothing.

That’s what she told the others as they got ready for practice. Her voice had been small, but determined. They all agreed without pushing. If they could’ve skipped too, they would’ve, just to stay with her. Especially Jeongin, who was still burning with quiet rage. He had to promise Mia he wouldn’t do anything stupid, but she asked Felix to keep an eye on him anyway. She knew that look in Jeongin’s eyes, the one that meant he might actually swing if Chan said the wrong thing.

So she skipped rehearsal. She wasn’t ready to face him. She wasn’t ready to face anyone.

Her eyes were still puffy, her throat sore, her chest aching like she had run a marathon through every mistake she hadever made. There was no way she could spend a full day dancing and pretending everything was fine.

The first day she stayed home, she barely left her room. Sometimes she cried until she couldn’t breathe, sometimes she fell asleep mid tear. Chan’s words, his tone, his face, kept replaying like a broken record. Every time she remembered a new detail, she started sobbing all over again.

By the time the boys got home, her nose was raw and her eyes were swollen. Felix made her drink something for the puffiness, fussing over her with that gentle patience only he had.

“So you can go back to work tomorrow,” he said.

She smiled at that, or tried to. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t ready.

So she skipped again.

The second day, Chan noticed something was wrong when he overheard Changbin and Jisung whispering in the corner.

“How’s she doing?” Changbin asked, voice low but heavy with worry.

Jisung sighed, shoulders slumping. “She’s… fine, I guess. Yesterday she cried all day again. And today she was up at five, cleaning the whole apartment like… deep cleaning shit.”

Chan slowed down, his chest tightened. Crying all day? Cleaning at five in the morning? He felt the guilt punch him straight in the ribs.

“Damn,” Changbin muttered. “I think I’ll go by later, just to check on her.”

“Bring ice cream,” Jisung said, half joking, half sad. “It’s all she’s eating right now.”

That night, after practice, he saw Changbin leaving with Jeongin and Felix. He didn’t ask where they were going. He knew. He stayed behind, finishing some edits on a track that suddenly sounded hollow, then went straight to the convenience store.

He bought the chocolate peanut butter flavor, and the others’ favorites too. His hands were shaking as he paid.

When he arrived at the dorm, he didn’t enter the passcode, instead he knocked. Once. Twice.

Jeongin opened the door. His face was unreadable, eyes narrowed.

Chan forced a small smile. “Hi, Jeonginie. Can I come in?”

“If you’re here to see Mia,” Jeongin said, arms crossing over his chest, “she doesn’t feel good.”

Before Chan could answer, Mia’s laugh echoed from inside the dorm, a quick, bright sound that hit him harder than he expected. He felt a flicker of relief… until Jeongin’s glare reminded him he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I heard her just fine,” Chan said, trying to play it light.

“Hyung, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jeongin replied flatly.

“Why not?” Chan asked, though he already knew.

Jeongin scoffed. “You know why.”

Chan’s smile faltered. “Jeongin, I’m your leader. She missed two days of practice, if there’s something wrong with Mia, I need to see it for myself.”

“Don’t do that,” Jeongin said, jaw tight. 

“Do what?” He pressed. 

Then Mia’s voice sounded again, a faint, amused comment from the kitchen and Jeongin’s anger wavered. He sighed, frustrated. “You know what? I’m not dealing with this.”

“What?” Chan frowned, but Jeongin was already calling out, “Yongbok hyung!”

Felix came running. “What’s— oh.” His eyes landed on Chan. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hi, Felix,” Chan said softly, trying not to sound desperate. “Can I come in? I brought ice cream.”

Jeongin threw his hands up. “I’m tired. You deal with this.” He turned and disappeared down the hall.

Chan exhaled sharply. Perfect. Now he had to add talking to Jeongin about the way he treated his elders to his to-do list. 

Felix looked torn, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Listen, mate,” he said quietly. “You and I both know you can’t be here right now.”

“And why is that?” Chan pressed, even though he already knew the answer. He needed to hear it. 

Felix stepped out, closing the door behind him. “Because Mia doesn’t want to see you.”

The words hit like a punch. Chan tried to keep his face neutral, but something in his chest cracked. Of course she didn’t, what was he expecting? 

“She’ll have to, eventually,” he muttered. “We’re in the same group.”

“Yeah,” Felix said, disappointment soft but cutting, “and you hurt her.”

“Felix, what I did— I did it because it was the best for the group.”

“I know, and we get that,” he argued back. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt her.”

Chan sighed, frustration clawing at his throat. “This is ridiculous. Just let me in.” He tried to step past him, but Felix blocked the door with quiet, stubborn strength.

“Hyung, please,” Felix said, voice gentler now. “Don’t make me call Changbin,” he warned him, then added: “She’s not saying she’s never coming back. She will. She just… needs time.”

Chan clenched his jaw. “How much time? Like a hiatus?”

His eyes widened. “God, no! Just a few days. She said she’ll come back after our day off.”

“Are you sure?” Chan asked, even though he could tell Felix was telling the truth, he needed to be sure.

“I promise,” the younger boy nodded firmly.

Silence stretched between them. The air felt thick, heavy with things neither wanted to say.

Finally, Chan sighed. Defeated. “Alright. I’ll go then.” He lifted the bag slightly. “Can you give this to her? It’s her favorite ice cream. There’s some for the rest of you too.”

Felix’s expression softened. “I will. Thank you… for understanding, hyung.”

Chan pressed his lips into a tight smile and nodded, then turned to leave. As he walked down the hall, the laughter inside the dorm reached him again, Mia’s laughter, and he felt it cut through him like glass.

He had done what was best for the group.

So why did it feel like he just lost something he couldn’t get back?

The third day, Mia didn’t skip practice.

Because it was their day off.

She wasn’t crying anymore, at least, not the kind of crying that left her gasping for air and clutching her chest. Now it was a quieter sadness, the kind that lived behind her ribs and showed up when the room got too quiet. Whenever that image of Chan rejecting her flashed in her mind she forced herself to move.

Clean. Organize. Distract.

If she stopped for too long, she would start remembering again, and she couldn’t handle that. Not today.

That’s how she ended up cleaning the entire dorm. Every inch of it.

The floors were vacuumed, mopped, and swept until they squeaked under her socks. The kitchen was spotless. Every bed was made, laundry was washed and folded into perfect stacks and she even scrubbed the bathroom tiles.

Her body was exhausted, but her mind? Still racing.

Now she was emptying her closet with Jeongin’s help. He had been keeping her company, quietly sorting piles while throwing her small smiles every now and then. 

Seungmin had given up half an hour ago, retreating to his room with a groan about “too many sweaters for one person,” while Felix was sitting crosslegged on the floor, distracted by the mountain of accessories Mia owned.

Jeongin pulled out a familiar black hoodie from the closet. “Are you gonna keep this?” he asked, lifting it by the sleeve. “You have like four of these.”

Mia turned around, and her heart stopped.

“Oh, that’s not…” Her throat closed up. The words stuck somewhere between her chest and her mouth. “That’s…”

She didn’t have to say it. The universe did it for her.

Her wolfchan plush, the one sitting next to her own skzoo on the shelf, suddenly toppled off and fell onto the desk with a soft thud. The room went silent.

Jeongin looked at her. She looked back. Neither of them said anything.

Finally, Mia picked up the plush, holding it by one ear. For some reason, it felt heavy. “You want it?” she asked, looking at Jeongin. He shook his head.

“Okay,” she muttered, forcing a tiny smile. “Felix, this is yours now. Catch.”

She tossed it in his direction. Felix barely reacted in time, the plush hitting his arm and landing on the floor. Jeongin giggled softly.

“You’re getting rid of your Wolfchan?” Felix asked, curiosity laced with caution.

Mia just nodded. “And it’s Chris’ hoodie. The others too. There must be a few shirts around here as well. Let’s find them.”

Her tone was steady, but inside, something stung. 

“And do what?” Jeongin asked, glancing at Felix, who only shrugged.

“I’m gonna give them back,” she said casually. 

“Like… in person?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

Mia hesitated. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Before she could answer, there was a knock on the doorframe.

Jisung leaned against it, cheerful as always. “Hi. What’s going on? Are you moving or something?”

She shook her head, smiling faintly. “Just cleaning.” Her eyes fixed behind him, and there was Minho. 

“Minho is taking them back to him,” she said.

“What?” Minho blinked, confused. “Taking what back? To who?”

Jisung looked between them, lost.

“Mia has a lot of clothes that belong to Chan,” Felix explained, still sorting bracelets. “She’s giving them back.”

“Apparently you are giving them back to him for her,” Jeongin added, smirking.

Minho frowned. “Isn’t that a little excessive?”

Mia narrowed her eyes at him. “No. It’s not.”

Minho simply frowned, then sat on the edge of her bed and started folding a pile of clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Why me though?”

“Because you live with him, duh.”

“So does Jisung,” he countered.

“But Jisung’s staying,” Felix said without looking up, tone casual. “We’re having a sleepover.”

“You are?” Minho asked, confused again.

“Yes, hyung,” Jisung said with a roll of his eyes. “I told you before coming. But you insisted on coming anyway.”

Mia chuckled quietly, it has been awhile since she saw them being so… domestic. “You can stay if you want,” she offered.

Minho shook his head. “It’s fine. You need me to take these clothes back anyway.”

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. 

Minho nodded back, and Jisung cheered. He really liked it when Minho and Mia got along. His favorite two people in the world can’t always be at war, he always said. 

When they were done, Mia stared at the pile in disbelief. 

Four hoodies. Six shirts. Two beanies.

Jisung crossed his arms, whistling low. “How did you even end up with this much of his stuff?” he asked, half teasing, half concerned.

Mia let out a dry laugh, though it didn’t sound amused. “I don’t even know,” she admitted with a shrug. “It just… happened, I guess.”

Every piece of clothing felt like a reminder of something different. The hoodie from a late night walk, another from when she stayed with him at the studio, the shirts from practice when she forgot hers, the beanie he once put on her head because she was “too cold.”

Now, they were all washed, folded, and sealed inside a bag that Minho was going to carry back to their dorm.

Felix, who had been quiet for a while, glanced at her. “What about your necklace?” he asked gently.

Mia froze.

Her hand instinctively went to her chest, fingers brushing over the small chain. She had gotten so used to wearing it, she almost forgot about it. The necklace Chan had given her for her birthday, the one she almost never took off. It had two charms: a moon and a star.

“Are you… are you gonna give it back too?” Jisung asked carefully, his tone soft. 

The room went still. The air felt heavier somehow, and she had four pairs of eyes staring at her, waiting for an answer. Mia’s fingers lingered on the charms for a long moment before she reached for the clasp. “I’m gonna take it off too,” she said simply.

She slipped it off and stared at it in her palm, the light catching on the silver chain, the star charm glinting faintly, then walked to her desk. 

Instead of putting it with the pile of clothes that belonged to him, she just set it down gently, right beside her laptop.

No one dared to say anything. 

To Minho’s luck, Chan and Hyunjin were sitting on the couch when he walked into their dorm.

“You’re here,” he said as he walked to the couch and put the bag on their coffee table.

“I live here,” Chan said simply, eyes glued to his phone.

“What’s that?” Hyunjin asked, leaning forward to open the bag.

“That,” Minho said, dropping onto the couch, “is Chan’s clothes that Mia had.”

That pulled Chan’s attention from his phone immediately.

“What?” he said in disbelief, grabbing the bag and checking the contents himself. His hands paused on the familiar fabrics. Hoodies, shirts, things he hadn’t even noticed were missing. A faint smell of her detergent clung to them, and it made his chest tighten.

“You’re in big trouble,” Hyunjin teased next to him, smirking.

“How—What—Who gave you this?” Chan asked, his tone uneven. “Where were you?”

“In her dorm, of course. And Mia gave it to me,” Minho said, almost too casually.

“You went to see her? To her dorm?” Chan’s voice was small. 

Minho nodded. “I took Jisung.”

“And where’s Jisung?” Hyunjin asked, tilting his head.

“He stayed there. Cutie’s dorm is having a sleepover.”

“And they didn’t invite me?” Hyunjin gasped dramatically.

Minho rolled his eyes. “Just go. They asked if I wanted to stay, but I said no.”

“Oh, I’m going,” Hyunjin announced and got up. “Binnie! You want to go to cutie’s dorm? They’re having a sleepover without us!” he shouted toward his bedroom as he disappeared down the hall.

Minho chuckled, shaking his head.

Chan, however, was still staring at the bag. His fingers brushed the edge of a sleeve, one he now remembered Mia was wearing just a couple weeks ago. “Why is she giving them back?”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s going through it, I guess.” Saying the word breakup wouldn’t be correct, he assumed. You can’t stop something that has never started. 

Chan frowned, his throat tightening. She’s returning everything? He felt a lump on his throat and an ache inside his chest. Every hoodie, every shirt… all the quiet moments attached to them, erased and folded neatly into a bag.

“I think I fucked up,” he muttered.

“Oh, you did,” Minho agreed without hesitation.

“How is she?”

Minho sighed. “She’s fine, I guess. She looks like she hasn’t had a good night’s sleep, though. Jisung told me she was up at 5 am yesterday, cleaning their dorm. She even cleaned the bedrooms, did everyone’s laundry, and organized the condiments in the kitchen by alphabetical order.”

“What? Why?” Chan frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Who knows,” Minho shrugged again. “But yeah, in terms of fucking it up, you really, really fucked up.”

Chan didn’t reply. He just sat there, staring at the pile of clothes. She must’ve been spiraling, that’s what she does when she’s trying to keep her mind busy. She tries to fix everything around her except the mess on her head. He had seen her do that before, he even even helped her through it once. And now he was the reason she was doing it again.

Minho smirked faintly, not in mockery, but in disbelief. He honestly couldn’t believe his hyung had managed to mess this up so badly.

“Can I ask what happened?” He said finally.

Chan gulped, his jaw clenched before he forced himself to answer. “She tried to kiss me.” Minho gestured for him to continue, eyes sharp. “And I rejected her.”

“And that’s it?” Minho raised an eyebrow. Chan nodded silently. “But you guys have kissed before, right?”

“We have,” Chan admitted with a sigh, gaze dropping to his hands.

“So… why not now?” Minho tilted his head, genuinely confused. “You don’t like her?”

Chan hesitated, the words burning in his throat. “It wouldn’t be good for the group,” he said finally. 

“That’s not what I asked,” Minho chuckled. 

“It’s not correct,” Chan said quietly. “It just… it can’t happen.”

Mia deserves better than someone who can’t even figure himself out. Better than someone who’s supposed to protect her and ends up being the reason she cries.

“Mhm,” Minho hummed and got up, stretching. “Well, I’m gonna tell you this because no one else is going to be on your side. I’m not even on your side, Jisung would kill me if I was.”

Chan looked up, the corner of his mouth twitching at the mention of Jisung. 

“But you really fucked up. From what I know, and from what they told me, you really hurt her. If you didn’t want anything to happen in the first place, you shouldn’t have kissed her. Or even flirted with her. You were the one that gave us that boundaries talk, remember? The one who told us to respect Mia not only because she’s a girl and older than us, but because she’s part of our group.”

Every word hit like a punch. Chan’s stomach twisted, because Minho was right. Every damn word of it.

“Don’t think about it as you rejecting a girl,” Minho continued. “Think about it as you hurting one of the members’ feelings.”

Chan couldn’t say anything. His throat felt too tight. 

“You have to do something to fix it now,” Minho said firmly, “before anything else happens. Before it’s too late.”

Chan ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“And apologize,” Minho added.

“Yes, I’ll apologize,” Chan nodded slowly.

“Okay, good.” Minho gave him a quick grin. “Also, hyung, if the cutie’s dorm and Jisung are still talking to you after you made Mia cry like that,” Chan listened carefully “it’s only because she asked them not to give you shit,” he added before turning away. “Goodnight, hyung.”

And with that, Minho disappeared down the hall, leaving Chan alone with his thoughts.

The next day, Mia showed up to practice, just like Felix had promised. Every staff member and dancer cheered when she walked in, and she hugged everyone. Everyone except Chan.

He smiled faintly, waiting for his turn, hoping she would meet his eyes for even a second. But when he stepped closer, she pulled out her phone, mumbling something about answering a text.

He deserved that. 

Every attempt of getting close to her ended the same way: her walking away or someone calling her name before he could say her name.

By the time practice ended, frustration was burning a hole in his chest. He couldn’t stand another moment without talking to her, he wanted to explain what had happened. He needed to. So his last resort was cornering her.  

“Mia, can we talk?” he asked as she packed up her things, shoving her towel into her duffel bag without looking at him.

“Yeah,” she said flatly. “Am I in trouble?” She let out a small chuckle, but it was empty, almost mechanical.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” he said, keeping his voice calm even though his stomach was twisting. “I just wanted to check on you, you skipped practice twice.”

“I’m on coffee duty then?” she asked, finally glancing up. The smirk was there, but her eyes were dull, lifeless in a way that made him hate himself.

Chan shook his head. “No, you’re not. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

“I am okay, it was just the flu, Chris,” she said easily. “The guys didn’t tell you?”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “We both know it wasn’t the flu.”

“Then what was it?” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest, her tone sharpening.

He swallowed.  “About the other day…” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat crawl up his skin.

“Oh! That!” Mia nodded quickly, like she was eager to move on. “Don’t worry about that. I was probably ovulating or something.”

Chan blinked. “Ovulating?” He repeated. 

“Yeah,” she said, too casually. “You don’t have to worry about that, okay? It won’t happen again.”

She swung the bag over her shoulder and turned to leave. Panic flared, his body moved before his mind caught up, and his hand closed around her wrist.

“Mia, please,” he said, his voice low, desperate.

“Please let go,” she said through gritted teeth, and he listened, letting go of her. 

“Just let me explain,” he pushed, needing her to listen, to understand that it hadn’t been nothing. 

Mia turned around. “What is there to explain?” she frowned, shaking her head. “You were very clear the other day. It was a mistake. I get it, okay? I get it.”

No, you don’t. You think I didn’t want it. You think I don’t want you. His chest ached, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Do you really get why?” he asked anyway, hoping she could read between the lines.

“Yes,” she said, voice calm, almost too calm it was scary. “You are Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids. I’m Mia, last member of Stray Kids. It was never going to happen. It shouldn’t have even crossed my mind to begin with.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. Bang Chan, leader. Not just Chan. The distance in her tone was unbearable.

“Mia, just let me—”

“Chris,” she cut him off sharply. “It’s fine, really. I don’t understand why you keep trying to explain something you already left very clear.”

He breathed out the only thing he could manage. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t, really.” She smiled then, that careful, polite smile she used for interviews, for strangers. He hated how she was using it with him. Then added: “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The words sounded bitter in her mouth. 

She turned to leave but paused at the door. “Oh, and the parts that I haven’t done yet, I’m finishing them this week with Dan.”

“I’m free today if you want to finish them now,” he offered automatically, like a reflex. 

Say yes. Just stay a little longer.

“I can’t, I already promised Dan I would work with him.” 

“You promised?” he repeated, trying to sound casual. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. 

Mia just nodded before walking out of the practice room.

The door shut behind her, and the silence that followed was… too loud.

She smiled, joked, even told him not to worry. It was everything he’d wanted, she was fine. Even if she didn’t look like it. 

This is what you wanted, Christopher. He reminded himself. 

So why did it feel like she had just slipped completely out of his reach?