dubusnotes

[dubusnotes]

Hi 😊 I really enjoyed Part 1 of Interests and was wondering when Part 2 will come out. Looking forward to it!

Hi hi!

Part 2 is currently still in the works. To be honest, I’m still figuring out the middle parts of it since I’ve went through a couple drafts and nothing has stuck to me yet.

But, I’ll definitely make sure to publish it in a few days or so. I’m also busy with real life stuff so that’s been putting my writing on hold.

+ I am also working on the Daycare - Wonyoung fan-fic which is about 90% done, so I’ll most likely finish that one first before completing the 2nd part of Interest.

Thank you for reading part one though! I’ll make sure part two is just as enjoyable.

[dubusnotes]

Interests | Kim Jennie

⤷ (word count: 18,293)

⤷ (tags: romance, slight angst, slow burn, friends to lovers, bits of fluff, male reader, original characters, multi-part story)

I'm not one for romance stories, but there was something about her that drew me in. Maybe it was the lingering emptiness—the absence of someone's warmth for far too long—that made me gravitate toward her. Or maybe it was something else, something unspoken yet undeniable. Whatever it was, I couldn’t ignore it.

But I knew I had to tread carefully. Because what happens when my ex—the ghost I’ve been carrying for two years—starts noticing the cracks in the grief I’ve wrapped myself in? What happens when she realizes I might finally be moving on?

There’s Kim Jennie, a talented idol who I end up befriending. And then there’s Kang Eunji, my ex-girlfriend. And then there’s me, just trying to get by the bustling entertainment industry of Seoul.

⤷ (Kang Eunji is an original character)

Seattle, Washington

September 19

"For the love of... please, just listen—” My words barely make it past my lips before an ear-splitting shriek rattles my skull. It’s the kind of scream that could send grown men running. The voice of a woman unhinged. The only woman in my twenty-four years of life who has ever managed to strike both fear and sheer humiliation into my very core. Mi madre.

In our little neighborhood, the kids didn’t just call her strict. They didn’t just call her scary. No, they had a special name for her—El Demonio Madre. The Devil Mother. And right now, she’s living up to every syllable of that title.

Instinct tells me to hold my phone at a safe distance—anything to spare my poor eardrums from another auditory assault. But at this point, I think they’ve built up a tolerance.

Wait a second. Isn’t this, like, the third time she’s called this week? I really need to remind her that I’m a grown adult and not in need of constant surveillance.

"¡¿Cómo pudo haberte dejado así?!” (“How could she have left you like that?!”)

Her voice bursts through the speaker, loud enough to rattle the tiny café walls—and my dignity along with them. I wince, subtly lowering the volume, but the damage is done. A few heads turn.

I steal a glance at the couple sitting to my left. They’re already looking at me. Our eyes meet—mine, mortified; theirs, laced with quiet sympathy. Great. Just what I needed: an audience for my public humiliation.

 I reply in haste, grasping at the first excuse that comes to mind.

“Mamá, if she’s happy with her choice, then I should respect it and move on. Así son las cosas.” (“That’s just how it is.”)

It’s not the best response. Not even close. My mom barely takes a breath before bulldozing through every Spanish curse word known to man, each syllable chipping away at my already fragile composure. And honestly? She has every right to be furious. Who wouldn’t be, after watching their child get blindsided by a partner of three years—someone who packed up and moved to another country without so much as a warning?

I sigh, pressing a hand to my temple. “Está bien, lo admito..., I wanted her to stay. But I should support her, not bring her down. Even if it means getting hurt in the process.” (“Okay, I’ll admit…”)

Hah. What a load of... 

Truthfully, I was happy but also it destroyed me when Eunji told me she was returning to South Korea. She had always talked about studying abroad, but I never thought it would happen so soon—never thought we would run out of time so quickly.

We’d been together for three years, started dating in senior year of high school, and yet, her future was hers to decide. That was the reality of it. No matter how much it hurt to admit, no matter how badly I wanted to be part of that future, I couldn’t stand in her way.

I still remember the way she looked when she got the email. The way her eyes lit up. The way the sweetest smile spread across her face—so full of hope, so full of excitement.

And all I could do was watch as I felt my heart break slowly.

It wasn’t easy for either of us. Even with her excitement about going home, the reality of our breakup frustrated her just as much as it did me—especially with how sudden it was. We had so many plans, so many moments we thought we’d still have. But in the end, none of it mattered.

We both knew we weren’t built for long distance. Our dreams for the future were too different, pulling us in opposite directions. And no matter how much I tried to convince myself that we could make it work, deep down, I knew the truth.

It would only lead to resentment. To tension. To something uglier than a clean goodbye.

I can still hear the last words she said to me before her flight, clear as day.

“I know it’ll be hard from here on out,” she started, her voice already thick with emotion. “But, for me… take care of yourself. Don’t forget to keep your apartment clean.”

There was a small pause. I could hear her struggling to keep it together, a soft sniffle betraying her.

“Make sure to show 마일로 (Milo) lots of love. I know our baby pup will be so sad to see his mom leave, but I know you two are going to need each other more than ever.” Her voice wavered again, but she pushed through. “And, I want you to remember to keep yourself in check with your medication. I won’t be there anymore to remind you to take it.”

There was a brief silence before she added, quietly, “Promise me that, all right?”

I think this is the moment when we both finally broke down. Neither of us was the type to hide our feelings—no masks, no pretending. And there we were, both crying in the rawest way possible. Despite the tears, she still found the strength to speak, her voice cracking.

“Lastly, I want to remind you how much I love you… and how much I wish you could be here with me. I love you. Forever and ever.”

I take a shaky breath and try to steady myself.

"Hijo,” my mother’s voice cuts through the silence, surprisingly low and serious. It snaps me out of my trance.

“Yeah?” I croak, my throat painfully dry.

“Why can’t you just go look for someone else?”

I freeze. My fingers tighten around the handle of my cup, the pressure so intense it feels like they might snap. The pain spreads through my chest, a suffocating ache that feels like tiny thorns digging into my heart. It’s a question I’ve heard too many times. Too many variations of it.

I’m caught off guard by the way my body reacts. Normally, it’s just a deep, burning sting in my chest, but this time… this time, I feel something hot trickle down my cheek.

"Honey? Are you still there?”

I quickly wiped away the tears, forcing a couple of fake coughs to mask the tightness in my throat. “I’m fine. I just drank my coffee too quickly.”

She lets out a heavy sigh, her voice tinged with concern. “Mi pobre bebé, ¿cuántas veces te lo he dicho? ¡El café es malo para ti!” (“My poor baby, how many times have I told you? Coffee is bad for you!”)

I shrug, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the handle of the cup. The pain in my chest doesn’t let up. And that question… it keeps looping in my mind, over and over. I can’t move on, no matter how hard I try. It feels like trying to escape a trap you’ve already set for yourself.

I just need to…

Thankfully, my mom stopped pressing about Eunji. She apologized for taking up so much of my time and left me to focus on my script. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, that I appreciated her calling.

Once the call ended, I turned my attention back to the screen, where the unfinished script for a small film stares back. I have a college friend who’s an amateur director, and he’s asked me to help with the script. I’m not entirely sure what kind of story he wants, but he trusts me to write something worthwhile.

The story was about two people from different social classes who fall in love. Their families and friends are vehemently against it, pushing them to break up. Despite the pressure, the couple realizes just how deeply they care for each other. In the end, they can’t bear to follow society’s rules any longer, so they run away together, leaving everything behind to build a life free from judgment.

You can tell I borrowed a little inspiration from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

I could picture myself as Elizabeth Bennet—coming from a family that worked their asses off just to get by. My mom was born in Mexico and raised with two siblings, but abuelo managed to find work here in the States. They fought through the hardships, clawing their way forward, especially in those days.

She met my papá during their senior year of high school. They had one class together, and that’s where they started to get close. Despite abuelo thinking of dad as a troublemaker, he could see how deeply papá cared for my mom. I remember him telling me how terrified he was when he first met abuelo. It made me think of the first time I met Eunji’s parents. I was just as terrified as dad had been. 

If only our love story had been more like my mom and dad’s.

But instead, ours was a tragic love story.

The news came on August 25, when Eunji received an email from a university in South Korea. She had been waiting for nearly three months for their response, so when it finally came, it took us both by surprise. I remember feeling proud and happy for her, sharing in the excitement of her achievement. But deep down, in the back of my mind, a nagging feeling told me it wasn’t going to be that easy.

A few months later, she had packed everything she needed, and we said our farewells. It was one of the most emotional days I can remember.

Abuela was right when she told me that Eunji and I were very much alike in terms of willpower. Even though we were going through something as heartbreaking as that, we both still wanted to carve out our own paths—still strived for our futures, even if we were in so much pain.

I remember abuela telling me, “Dos almas que finalmente se encontraron pero se separaron tan rápido.” (“Two souls that finally found each other but parted so quickly.”)

And here we are now—a few weeks after she left. I stayed in touch with her for the first few days, but as our schedules grew busier, we stopped talking. It’s almost as if we’re both forcing ourselves into the painful process of moving on, trying to outrun the ache that keeps threatening to swallow us.

I glance at the screen, watching the blinking cursor, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I want to keep typing, but writer’s block has hit me hard. The call with mom, though I appreciated it, only dragged me deeper into a dark place. With this ache in my chest and my mind scattered, I closed the laptop and stood up.

I slipped it into my bag, then checked the time on my phone. 10:30 A.M. I still had time to walk around the campus, maybe give myself a chance to clear my head.

"Thanks for the coffee!” I called out to my friend at the cash register. We exchanged waves before I stepped out of the shop. As I walked, I caught the faint sound of music leaking from someone’s headphones—probably turned up too loud. But what really grabbed my attention was the language. It was Korean.

She would have listened to this.

I glanced quickly at the person’s laptop screen, catching a glimpse of a music video. I gave the video one last look before continuing on my way.

"I wonder what it would be like to live in Korea with you, Eunji…”

The words slipped out quietly, almost lost in the rush of passing moments. I couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if things had turned out differently.

Seoul, South Korea

Two years later

The airport buzzed with excitement as my film crew and I stepped into the airport, heading toward the luggage pick-up. We were in Seoul for this big award show happening later tonight, but we weren’t here just as spectators. We were here to capture the behind-the-scenes moments, the raw footage, and the unscripted chaos that comes with events like these.

As a scriptwriter, I didn’t usually get involved in the hands-on part of things, but this time, things were different. Our film production company had recently partnered with a popular K-pop label to document the life of idols outside the stage, and our team was tasked with creating a documentary-style film. My job? To write the script, shape the narrative, and capture the emotion behind every scene.

There was Jonathan, my assistant, who was as enthusiastic as he was naïve about the film industry. His eyes darted around, already acting like a tourist, taking in the hustle and bustle of the airport. Beside him was Richard, the lead manager, who worked with the studio to ensure everything was on schedule. Richard had been with me the longest, ever since we made our first feature film together. His calm demeanor always kept the rest of the crew in check.

And then there was Mrs. Henderson, who was, without a doubt, the most intimidating of the bunch. Her role as one of the senior managers meant she had to make sure everything went smoothly—no matter what. I never knew what to expect from her, but I had learned to keep my head down when she was around.

“Let’s go, everyone,” Richard said, guiding the rest of us toward check-in. “We have a lot to do before tonight’s rehearsal.”

As we walked through the terminal, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the wave of sounds and sights. Everywhere I turned, Korean was all around me—announcements over the speakers, groups of people chatting, and the hum of hurried footsteps. It felt like I was stepping into a whole new world, one I was excited to explore but also a little uneasy about.

There was a strange feeling settling in my chest. Maybe it was the rush of being in a place that was both foreign and familiar, or maybe it was just the jet lag kicking in. My eyes kept darting around, trying to take everything in, but something caught my attention in the crowd.

A woman with long, dark hair walked past us. She had the same way of tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that I knew all too well. For a moment, my heart stuttered. My mind immediately flashed to Eunji. Her voice, her smile, her eyes—all of it hit me in an instant. But when I blinked and focused, I realized it wasn’t her. The woman’s features were slightly different, but the resemblance was uncanny.

For a split second, I almost thought she’d turned her head and caught me staring. But she kept walking, oblivious, disappearing into the crowd.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled in my stomach. Get a grip, I told myself. It’s just someone who looks like her. But no matter how many times I repeated that, it didn’t ease the discomfort I felt.

I kept my gaze ahead, trying to focus on the task at hand, but the tightness in my chest lingered. I hadn’t realized how much seeing something familiar here would throw me off.

As we made our way through the airport, Richard led us toward a small gathering by one of the gates. There was a woman standing by a sign with the production company logo, her posture professional but relaxed. She looked to be in her mid twenties, dressed in a smart black blazer, her dark hair pulled back neatly into a low ponytail.

“Everyone, this is Jihye,” Richard said, turning to us. “She’ll be the one facilitating our communication with the K-pop group during the shoot. She’s been handling a lot of the coordination behind the scenes, so if you have any questions, she’s your go-to person.”

Jihye gave us a warm smile, but there was a no-nonsense energy about her that immediately told me she wasn’t someone you’d want to mess with. She glanced around at the crew, making eye contact with each of us before resting her gaze on me.

“Nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice calm and collected, but there was a certain sharpness to it. “I’ll be helping you with anything you need, from scheduling to liaising with the group. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I gave a small nod in her direction, staying quiet as usual. Richard was already in full-on talking mode, filling her in on the crew’s needs for the shoot. The last thing I wanted to do was add anything to the conversation. I was here to write, not to be the one giving orders or asking too many questions.

Jihye caught my eye again, her expression a little softer this time, like she knew I wasn’t one to jump into the conversation right away. There was something familiar about her, something that put me at ease despite my usual reticence. Maybe it was the way she didn’t pressure me to speak, letting Richard take the reins while I stood back.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure everything runs smoothly,” Jihye added, giving me an encouraging smile.

I felt a small flicker of relief. She seemed like someone who could handle the chaos that was bound to come with working alongside idols, but she also understood the balance between keeping things professional and respecting the quiet ones. For once, I didn’t feel like the odd man out.

After a few minutes of walking through the bustling terminal, Jihye led us outside to the parking lot where a sleek, black private van was waiting for us. The van’s tinted windows gleamed in the midday sun, its polished exterior almost too pristine for comfort. It looked like the kind of vehicle that belonged to someone important — and judging by the number of security guards milling around, it probably did.

I could feel the weight of Seoul pressing in around me. The city was alive with an energy I wasn’t used to. Every corner of the airport buzzed with movement — the rapid steps of travelers pulling their rolling suitcases, the low hum of electric buses making their way to different terminals, and the almost musical flow of rapid Korean voices, filling the space like a constant, fluid rhythm. It was the kind of chaotic beauty you only find in a place where everything moves faster than you can keep up.

The air was thick with a slight chill, the kind of cold that sneaks in without warning and makes you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. It smelled faintly of the city’s infamous street food, a mix of grilled meats and something sweet, but there was an underlying clean scent of freshness too — something that told me this city knew how to keep moving but also took care of itself in its own way.

As we approached the van, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the old and new here. The glass-and-steel buildings towered overhead, some so tall they seemed to scrape the sky, while at ground level, the streets were lined with smaller, more traditional shops — bright neon signs advertising food, drinks, and clothing that I could only partially read. Cars and scooters darted between lanes, weaving in and out of traffic like a perfectly orchestrated symphony.

My eyes flickered to the faces around me — so many different people, all absorbed in their own world, and yet the city seemed to tie them all together, as if they were pieces of a larger puzzle. Some people rushed by, heads buried in their phones, while others strolled slowly, casually looking up at the tall buildings or chatting with friends. Despite the chaotic energy, there was a rhythm to the whole thing, an unspoken order that made the city feel like it was alive and breathing.

We reached the van, and Jihye quickly slid the door open. The interior was just as luxurious as the exterior, with leather seats and soft lighting that made it feel like we were stepping into a comfortable cocoon. The kind of place where you could relax, even though you were only a few steps away from a city that never seemed to stop.

As I slid into my seat, I glanced out the window once more, my thoughts lingering on the city. Seoul was nothing like where I was from. It felt big, overwhelming, and yet there was something welcoming about it too — like you were constantly part of something bigger than yourself, whether you liked it or not.

I let out a small breath and sank back into the plush seat, ready for whatever was next.

The van hummed quietly as it moved through the busy streets of Seoul, the rhythmic thrum of the tires on the asphalt providing a quiet backdrop to the conversation happening between Richard, Mrs. Henderson, and Jihye. I leaned back in my seat, eyes half-closed as the words floated around me, but I couldn’t help but catch snippets of the exchange.

“So, Jihye,” Richard began, breaking the silence, “what exactly are we going to be filming for this project? I know the studio gave us the general outline, but they’ve kept the specifics pretty vague. Is it a documentary or more of a behind-the-scenes kind of deal?”

Jihye glanced at him through the rearview mirror, her tone calm, but with an edge of professional coolness. “It’s a bit of both,” she said, her voice smooth. “The crew will be documenting some of the day-to-day activities, but it will also have a more cinematic approach. The idea is to provide an insider’s look at the idols’ lives—what it’s like to balance fame with personal struggles. Not just performances and interviews, but also the quieter, more intimate moments.”

Richard nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds like a tightrope walk. Too much of the personal and you’ll cross into invasion of privacy territory, but just enough to make it relatable without losing the glamour, right?”

“Exactly,” Jihye responded. “We want to show them as real people, but we also want to maintain that sense of celebrity. It’s about balancing both sides of the coin.”

Mrs. Henderson, who had been quiet up until then, spoke up with her usual stoic demeanor. “And who exactly are we focusing on for this project? The studio hasn’t exactly made that clear, either.”

Jihye hesitated for a fraction of a second, then leaned forward slightly. “I can’t say much about who yet. My boss is the one with the final say on that. But I can tell you that it’s one of the top girl groups in Korea, one with an incredibly strong international presence.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Top girl groups, huh? That narrows it down, but not by much.”

Jihye gave him a small, knowing smile. “I’m sure you can guess, but for now, let’s keep it under wraps. The announcement will come soon, and trust me, once you hear it, you’ll understand why this is such a big deal.” She paused, eyes briefly flickering over to me. “But you’ll be working with some very talented, very busy individuals. Expect long hours and tight schedules. The studio is banking on this to be a success.”

The van turned a corner sharply, the familiar skyscrapers of Seoul towering in the distance.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mrs. Henderson said, voice carrying the familiar no-nonsense edge that had become her signature. “We’re shadowing one of the biggest names in K-pop, and your boss expects us to create something meaningful without stepping on anyone’s toes. Got it. I’ll make sure the team is prepared for that.”

Richard chuckled and leaned back, his hand running over his stubble. “You know, Henderson, you make it sound a lot more stressful than it needs to be.”

She didn’t even flinch. “I’m just stating the facts. The rest of you can worry about the details.”

I caught a brief glimpse of Jihye’s expression in the rearview mirror. She had a slight, almost imperceptible smirk as if she’d heard this same back-and-forth a hundred times before. “Let’s just make sure we’re all ready to work hard,” she said smoothly. “There’s a lot riding on this project, and we don’t want any surprises when we get to the venue.”

Richard chuckled again, though there was an edge of seriousness in his voice this time. “No pressure, huh?”

Jihye looked out the window for a moment, her eyes narrowing as the city began to change before us — the tall buildings slowly transitioning into more intimate, city blocks as we moved closer to our destination. “None,” she said simply. “But you’ll all do fine. I’ll be there to guide you through it.”

I felt the weight of her words as she spoke. This wasn’t going to be a simple shoot. Working with top idols, even behind the scenes, meant handling everything with precision. There were no second chances in this world. You either got it right, or you didn’t.

The rest of the ride passed in silence, the anticipation hanging in the air as the van rolled toward our destination, and I couldn’t help but wonder: Who were we going to meet?

The van pulled into the hotel’s underground parking garage, and the low hum of the engine gradually slowed to a stop. The city lights filtered through the darkened windows as we made our way out of the vehicle. I had barely taken in the grandeur of the hotel when I noticed the crew starting to gather their bags and equipment.

“Let’s make sure everything is ready for the filming,” Mrs. Henderson said, her usual commanding tone cutting through the bustle of the crew. Richard nodded, already heading toward the lobby with a few others.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the elevator. As I did, I saw Jihye step off to the side, phone pressed to her ear. Her calm demeanor struck me first—she wasn’t hurried or anxious, just standing there in the corner of the parking lot, speaking in soft tones that barely carried over the noise of the crew.

At first, I wasn’t paying much attention, focused more on my own thoughts. But then I caught the faintest trace of a name—something that made my stomach churn slightly, something that stopped my feet in their tracks.

“네, 엄마. 괜찮아요. 잘 지내고 있어요,” (“Yes, Mom. It's okay, I'm doing great,”) Jihye said, her voice soothing, almost affectionate. “오늘 은지 씨가 방문한다고요? 네, 공연 끝나고 꼭 보러 갈게요.” (“Eunji is visiting today? Yes, I'll definitely go see her after the show.”)

I froze. Eunji? Did she just—?

I blinked, shaking my head. I hadn’t polished my Korean in months, so it was entirely possible I’d misheard. Maybe it wasn’t Eunji. Maybe it was someone else with a similar name. But the way her voice softened at the mention of that name, the way it lingered—it didn’t feel like I was mistaken.

My gut twisted, and for a moment, I felt a surge of cold anxiety. I tried to brush it off. Maybe she was talking about someone else. It’s not like the name Eunji was unique.

I glanced over at Jihye, who was still standing with her back to me, finishing up her conversation with a reassuring, “그럼, 나중에 전화할게요...” before hanging up and sliding her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t look at me or acknowledge the brief pause I had made. ("Okay, I'll call you later...")

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but… Eunji. Her name. It sent a ripple through me.

I tried to push it out of my mind as I followed the others into the hotel, my footsteps heavier than before. I’m probably overthinking it. But deep down, I couldn’t deny the knot in my chest—the sudden, unsettling feeling that I had just overheard something important. Something that shouldn’t be ignored.

As the crew began checking in, I took a long, steadying breath, reminding myself to focus on the work ahead. I couldn’t afford distractions, not here, not now. I had to keep my head in the game.

The elevator dinged as it reached our floor, and I stepped out with Jonathan trailing behind me. We walked down the corridor to our rooms, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the silence. The door to my room was already unlocked, and as I pushed it open, I took a quick glance around—everything was clean and modern, just like you’d expect from a hotel that catered to high-profile clients.

I dropped my bag onto the bed, the weight of it almost as heavy as the thoughts swirling in my head. I could already feel the tension building up again, a tightness in my chest that hadn’t let go since the conversation with Jihye.

Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed to be a little too cheerful for my liking. He wandered into the room with a grin plastered across his face, still full of energy despite the long travel day. He started tossing his own bags onto the bed, glancing at me every so often.

“Dude, you alright?” Jonathan’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to find him watching me, his brow furrowed in concern.

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, just a little jet-lagged. It’s been a long day.”

He didn’t buy it. Jonathan leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, studying me carefully. “You sure? You’ve been tense ever since we landed. I get it, the whole travel thing can mess with you, but… something’s off.”

I let out a breath, trying not to make eye contact. He was right, though. I hadn’t been acting like myself. Eunji’s name kept echoing in my mind, and it was making it hard to focus. But there was no way I was about to open up to Jonathan about it. Not now, not when everything still felt so uncertain.

“I’m fine, really,” I said, grabbing a towel from the bathroom to distract myself. “Just need to get settled in. You know how it is.”

Jonathan didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further. For a moment, there was just the sound of me unpacking and him shifting around in the room, though I could still feel his eyes on me, weighing me down.

Finally, after a few beats of silence, he threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. If you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine. But you’ve got that look—like you’re carrying a mountain on your shoulders.”

He shook his head with a half-smile. “Anyway, I’m gonna go explore the hotel a bit. We’ve still got some free time, right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I muttered, still distracted as I set my things in the drawer. “Go ahead, check things out. I’ll catch up later.”

Jonathan nodded, obviously not fully convinced but choosing to let it go—for now. “Alright, well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Don’t spend all night staring at the walls, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” I said with a forced smile, not looking up from the suitcase.

With that, he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. I was left standing there in the quiet, my chest tight and my mind swirling with thoughts I wasn’t ready to face. The last thing I wanted was to talk about it, but it was hard to escape the questions that had started creeping in.

What did Jihye mean when she mentioned Eunji? Was it just a coincidence? Or was something more going on that I wasn’t aware of?

I ran a hand through my hair and took a seat on the bed, trying to push the thoughts away. I didn’t need distractions right now. I had to focus on why I was here. The work.

I just hoped I could keep it together long enough to make it through the next few days.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, but I knew it had to be Jihye. She’d been checking on everyone since we arrived, a routine I figured she had mastered by now. I opened the door, and sure enough, there she was, standing in the hallway with a clipboard in hand, a soft yet business-like smile on her face.

“Hey, you’ve been settling in alright?” Jihye asked as she stepped inside without waiting for a response. Her tone was calm, but there was a sharpness to it, like she was always on top of things—always aware.

“Yeah, just unpacking,” I said, stepping aside to let her in. “I’m good, really.”

She nodded but didn’t respond right away. Instead, she took a quick glance around the room, probably making sure everything was in order. She didn’t look judgmental or overly observant, but she had a way of looking at everything without seeming to care, a trait that somehow felt more intimidating than any other.

“Jonathan mentioned you were more of a stay-in person. That’s fine; I know how these long days can hit you,” she said, standing by the desk and setting the clipboard down. “I wanted to go over what’s expected of you while we’re here. You’re going to be a part of the whole process—writing, coordinating with the crew, and of course, keeping in touch with the idols. You’ll need to be available when they need you, even if it’s just for notes or changes to the script. I can’t stress enough that clear communication is key. Got it?”

“Yeah, I understand,” I replied, my fingers brushing nervously against the edge of the desk. It wasn’t like I didn’t know the job—I’d been doing this for a while now—but the stakes felt higher here. Being in a completely different country, surrounded by people who weren’t my regular crew, it felt… different.

Jihye’s eyes shifted to mine, and she paused for a moment, her gaze steady. “You’re good with all that, right? I know you’re more of a quiet one, but you still need to make sure you’re vocal when something comes up. Don’t let things sit if something’s off. We’re not a ‘set it and forget it’ kind of team.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of her words more than I wanted to. She was right, of course. There was a lot at stake. But the quietness in me didn’t like the idea of causing a scene or being too vocal. I preferred the background, even when things were going wrong. It was easier that way.

“You’re more than capable, I can see that,” she added, giving me a brief smile before checking her clipboard again. “If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to let me know, alright? I’ll be around.”

There was a pause as Jihye flipped through the pages of her clipboard, as if she was about to leave. But then she stopped and looked at me again, this time with a more focused expression, almost like she was reading me.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Jihye remarked, her voice softer but still sharp. “Something on your mind?”

I immediately felt my heart drop a little. I didn’t think I had been that obvious, but of course, Jihye had a way of seeing through all that. I shifted awkwardly, trying to deflect.

“No, nothing really. Just… adjusting,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze and hoping she wouldn’t press any further. I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to explain why I felt like I was carrying a thousand pounds in my chest since hearing Eunji’s name earlier.

But Jihye wasn’t one to let things slide easily. She took a step closer, folding her arms across her chest. “You know, I can tell when something’s bothering someone. I’m not going to let you sit there, pretending everything’s fine if it’s not. I can tell when something’s off. So, let’s hear it.”

My stomach dropped. She was right. I couldn’t hide it. I opened my mouth, then quickly shut it again, unsure of how to even begin.

“I—” I started, but the words caught in my throat. I could feel my hands trembling slightly, my mind racing. “It’s nothing. Just… trying to get used to everything. It’s a lot, you know?”

Jihye studied me for a few moments, her expression unreadable, before she sighed softly, the air around us suddenly feeling heavier. “Listen, I know it’s not easy to adjust. But if something’s weighing on you, it’s better to talk about it now. You’re not going to get through this if you bottle it up. You’ve got a whole team here, and we’re all going to need each other.”

I knew she was right, but I still hesitated. I wasn’t ready to talk about Eunji, not yet. The whole situation still felt raw, and I wasn’t sure if this was the right time or place.

“I’ll be alright,” I said, my voice quieter now, more resigned than I intended. “It’s just… a little overwhelming right now. But I’ll manage.”

Jihye gave me a look, one that clearly said she didn’t buy it, but she didn’t push further. “Alright,” she said, her tone softening just a bit. “But don’t shut people out, alright? We’re a team, and I’m not going to let you slip through the cracks.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle in. She wasn’t going to let me get away with pretending everything was fine, but for now, she seemed willing to let me have my space.

With a final glance, Jihye turned to leave the room. “We’re meeting with the team in an hour. Get ready. I’ll see you downstairs.”

I watched her leave, the door clicking softly behind her. For a moment, I stood there, still trying to shake off the knot in my stomach. But Jihye’s words lingered. It was like she saw right through me. Maybe it was time to stop pretending I could handle everything alone.

After Jihye left, I sank onto the bed and glanced at the clock. The day was still young, and we had a little free time before meeting the rest of the crew downstairs. I didn’t feel like exploring the hotel just yet, so I decided to FaceTime my family. They were currently on vacation in Mexico, and I hadn’t been able to talk to them much since I left.

I grabbed my phone and hit the familiar icon, waiting for the call to connect. It didn’t take long before my mom’s face popped up on the screen, the familiar warmth in her eyes making me feel a little less alone.

“¡Hola, hijo!” my mom greeted cheerfully. “How are you? How’s Korea so far?”

“Hola, mamá,” I replied, forcing a smile as I sat up a little straighter. “I’m good, just getting used to everything. It’s a lot different than what I expected.”

She tilted her head, a concerned expression appearing on her face. “¿Estás bien? You sound a bit down. Are you adjusting okay?”

“I’m fine, really. Just… been a long day,” I said, trying to push any lingering unease aside. It wasn’t like I could tell her about Eunji and everything else.

“I hope you’re getting some rest,” my mom said, a light frown on her face. “Make sure you eat well. Don’t let yourself get too caught up in the work.”

Before I could reply, my dad’s voice suddenly came through, loud and clear. “¡Ándale, you’re talking to him again?” he joked in the background, his smile visible as he leaned into the frame. “We miss you, kid. Everything okay over there?”

“Yeah, dad,” I said, grinning at his familiar tone. “Just adjusting. It’s different from the L.A, but it’s good.”

He nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good to hear. We’re enjoying our time here in Mexico, but your mom’s been bugging me about not talking to you more. Relax, okay?”

“I will, don’t worry,” I said, feeling a little lighter just from hearing his voice.

Before I could say more, my younger sister, Camila, popped into the frame. She was grinning like she always did when she was excited about something.

“¡¡Korea!! What’s it like over there? Do you see all the K-POP idols already? Are they as pretty as they look on YouTube? What about the food? Have you tried the kimchi yet? I want to know EVERYTHING!” she blurted out, her words tumbling out so quickly that I barely had time to breathe.

I laughed softly, glad to hear her enthusiasm. “It’s… a lot quieter than you’d think. And yes, I’ve tried the kimchi—my stomach’s still recovering,” I joked, making her giggle. “But no, I haven’t met any idols yet. Just the crew, getting everything set up. I’ll tell you more once I know more.”

“Promise me you’ll bring back something cool? Like a Korean souvenir?” she asked eagerly, practically bouncing in her seat.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, smiling at her excitement. “How’s everything going there with you and mom and dad?”

“Oh, you know,” she said with a shrug, “just enjoying the beach. But I can’t wait to hear all the details when you come back!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too excited,” I replied with a chuckle, trying to keep the conversation light.

My mom, who had been listening in, gave me a warm smile. “We miss you, mijo. Take care of yourself, alright? You don’t have to be so serious all the time.”

“I’m trying, mom,” I said, my voice softening. “I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

The call ended, and I sat there for a moment, looking at the blank screen. It felt nice to hear their voices, to hear my sister’s excitement about my trip even though I didn’t feel like I had much to show for it yet. But there was something about hearing her talk so freely about the future that made me pause. Everything was so uncertain right now. The only thing I knew was that the trip, and everything about it, was going to be a lot more complicated than I had expected.

⤷

The moment I step onto the stage, I’m hit with the overwhelming energy of it all. I’m at one of the most iconic places in Korea for large-scale performances and award shows, stands before me. The huge space is filled with a buzz of activity, from the sound engineers checking equipment to the stagehands running back and forth, adjusting lights and making sure everything is in perfect working order. The walls echo with the faint hum of excitement, and it feels like the entire place is alive, preparing for something huge.

I look around and see staff members—some in black uniforms, others in casual outfits—rushing past me with clipboards and headsets. There’s an urgency in the air, a sense that everyone knows exactly what they’re doing and where they need to be. It’s all so chaotic, yet orderly, like a well-oiled machine. The massive stage looms ahead, and I can already imagine the performance that’ll take place here. I can almost hear the cheers of the audience, the faint music, and the excitement that’ll fill this cavernous space when the idols take the stage.

I take a slow step forward, my mind distracted as I try to remember the instructions from Jihye. I’m supposed to meet the rest of the crew in the meeting room, but with the crowd and the maze of hallways, I feel completely lost. Jonathan had texted me earlier saying he was pulled by Henderson, leaving me to find my way around on my own.

I walk down a narrow hallway, passing a few staff members who don’t even look up as they rush to their tasks. The overhead lights flicker slightly, casting sharp shadows against the walls, giving everything an even more hectic feel. My footsteps echo as I try to stay calm, but my anxiety is creeping in. I glance down at my phone, wishing I could just text someone to help me, but I feel a little out of place. I know my Korean isn’t great—hell, it’s barely functional—and I’m hesitant to ask anyone, afraid I might hold them up or, worse, embarrass myself.

I stop in front of a door, unsure if it’s the right one. The hallway seems endless, and the more I look around, the more I feel like I’m just walking in circles. The people moving past me are all in such a hurry, and I can’t help but feel like I’m in the way. I glance around once more, but no one looks like they have time to help me. My stomach tightens, and I take another hesitant step forward. I’m just about to turn back when I hear footsteps behind me.

Turning slightly, I notice a woman walking toward me. She’s wearing a casual black jacket, her hair styled simply but neatly, and she’s moving with purpose. For a moment, I think she might just be another staff member, like everyone else here. But as she gets closer, she notices me standing there, looking slightly lost.

“Are you looking for something?” she asks, in perfect English, her voice calm and friendly.

I’m caught off guard, and for a moment, I’m frozen, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, yeah, I’m trying to find the meeting room for the crew,” I say, my voice a little hesitant. “I’m… I’m kind of lost, actually.”

She smiles, a genuine, understanding smile that immediately puts me at ease. “It’s easy to get lost here,” she says, nodding toward the winding hallways. “This place is huge. I can help you find it.”

I nod gratefully, glad to have found someone who can help, even if I didn’t expect her to speak English so fluently. “Thank you so much,” I say, feeling a small sense of relief. “I’m… I’m just a little out of place, to be honest. The setup here is… a lot.”

She laughs softly, the sound friendly and warm. “I can imagine. It’s my first time here, too, actually. But I’ve been around enough to know my way around,” she says with a shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “I’m happy to help.”

As she walks me down the hallway, I feel my nerves start to ease, even if just a little. The gentle pace at which she speaks and the way she seems comfortable in this hectic environment make me wonder if she’s part of the production team. I’m sure she must be, but I don’t want to be too nosy, especially not when I don’t even know if she’s a staff member or part of the crew. She doesn’t seem like someone who’d be tied down to this many details—she moves with such ease.

I glance at her as we continue walking, trying to read her, but she keeps her focus ahead, guiding me through the bustling halls. For a moment, I almost feel like I’m just following someone who’s in charge—someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. But the thought fades when she turns her attention back to me, noticing the anxious tension that’s still clinging to me.

“By the way,” she says, her voice light, “Don’t worry about getting lost again. You’ll be fine here. I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”

I nod, feeling even more grateful for her kindness. “Thanks again,” I say, my words genuine.

As we continue walking, she glances at me, noticing that I’ve calmed down a little, and asks, “So, what brings you around here, if you don’t mind me asking? Are you from around here?”

I hesitate for a second before responding. “No, I’m actually part of a crew from America,” I say, keeping it vague, just like we were told. “We’re here for some behind-the-scenes filming. The crew’s been working on a documentary of sorts. We’re just here to capture the experience—behind the glitz, you know?” It’s not the full story, but it’s enough to keep things simple. We don’t want to attract too much attention or stir any rumors, especially when the idols we’re filming could have their own fans or curious bystanders.

She nods thoughtfully, seeming to take my explanation at face value. “Ah, I see,” she says, and there’s a light smile on her face. “Must be exciting to be here in Seoul for something like that. It’s a busy place, that’s for sure.” She turns her attention back to leading me through the hallways, and for a moment, the noise and rush of the staff around us fades into the background.

Just then, I hear a familiar voice, one that makes me snap out of my brief respite. “There you are!” Jihye’s voice is unmistakable, and I turn to find her walking toward us with a purposeful stride. She quickly scans me up and down before giving me a small nod.

And then, her gaze flicked to the woman who was helping me.

“Ah, Jennie,” Jihye says, her tone changing slightly, more professional but still warm, as though there’s an understanding between the two. “You’re here to help him find the room? Thank you.”

Jennie doesn’t break stride, giving a polite nod. “No problem, 언니. I was just helping him get around. He looked a little lost.”

Jihye nods again, offering a brief smile. “I appreciate it. He’s still getting used to everything here.” Then, she turns her focus back to me. “Everyone else is waiting in the meeting room. You can go in with Jennie.”

I blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift. “With Jennie?” I ask before I can stop myself, but I immediately feel a little foolish for asking such a question out loud.

Jennie’s presence felt so casual, so unassuming, and now I realize she must have more of a connection to all of this than I initially thought.

She looks over at me, her smile widening. “Yeah, I’m heading that way too,” she says, her voice light. “Might as well accompany you.”

She pauses for a beat before introducing herself. “I’m Kim Jennie,” she says, her smile still soft. “I’m one of the people you’ll be filming behind the scenes for.”

I stare at her for a moment, the realization dawning on me that she’s not just some random staff member like I assumed earlier. She’s an actual idol—one of the people we’re supposed to be filming. It takes me a second to recover from my surprise, but I nod quickly, trying to hide my surprise.

“Ah, Kim Jennie,” I repeat, a little awkwardly. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t realize… I mean, I didn’t know you were part of the filming. Sorry about that.”

Jennie gives me a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she waves off my awkwardness. “It’s okay. I’m just here to help. Let’s get to the meeting room, yeah?”

I nod, following her as we walk toward the room. Jihye stays behind, perhaps with other things to do, but I can tell that she and Jennie are already familiar with each other. The way they interact seems more natural than I initially expected, as if they’ve worked together before.

As we walk, I can’t help but feel a little out of place in all of this. Jennie seems so comfortable, so poised, even in this rushed atmosphere, and I’m just trying to keep up. Despite my awkwardness, I can’t help but feel a small wave of gratitude for her help.

Jennie’s smile lingers as she leads the way, and I follow her, still a little surprised by the situation, but also more intrigued than before.

As we enter the meeting room, I can feel the weight of the situation settling in. The room is relatively large, filled with a mixture of sleek modern furniture and tech equipment. There’s a large screen at the front, and a long table where the Korean production crew is seated, along with a few other important figures that I assume are part of the event’s organization.

The first thing that catches my eye, though, is the group of women standing off to the side and I watch Jennie walk towards them. They’re all standing in a row, their poised expressions not giving away much. The atmosphere suddenly feels heavy with anticipation.

Jihye gestures toward the group, signaling me to follow her lead. “This is the Korean production crew,” she says, her voice calm but authoritative. “They’ll be working closely with your team for this documentary. The idols you’ll be filming with are right here.”

I nod, absorbing the information, but I’m more focused on Jennie and the women she was with. Despite knowing that the idol group would be here, I hadn’t really processed that they’d be in the same room with me, not until now.

Jennie steps forward with a soft smile on her face, the kind that makes the entire room feel warmer. She exchanges a few words with her group in Korean, and I catch a glimpse of the other girls giving me small waves and smiles as they stand next to each other. Then, they turn toward our crew and perform a formal greeting, the kind of greeting I’ve seen in K-POP variety shows—sharp and full of respect.

“안녕하세요, 우리는 블랙핑크입니다!” “Hello, we are Blackpink!”

They introduce themselves one by one, starting with the oldest member.

“저는 지수입니다.” “I’m Jisoo.”

“안녕하세요, 로제입니다.” “Hello, I’m Rosé.”

“반갑습니다, 리사입니다.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Lisa.”

And then it’s Jennie’s turn. She steps forward with her usual calm and confident demeanor, but there’s a gentleness in her gaze that catches me off guard. She speaks directly to our crew, and although she’s addressing everyone, I can’t help but feel like her words are aimed at me.

“안녕하세요, 저는 제니입니다.” “Hello, I’m Jennie.”

As the group finishes their introductions, I realize I’ve been holding my breath. My heart is pounding for some reason, and I try to keep my cool, but the realization hits me all at once: I’ve been talking to Jennie, a member of Blackpink, this entire time. My face flushes with embarrassment, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. All I can think is, How could I have not realized it sooner?

She’d just been so… normal. So approachable. It felt like I was just talking to another crew member, someone helping me get my bearings. And now, here she is, standing in front of me like an international star, and I feel like an absolute idiot.

Jennie catches my eye as I try my best not to visibly panic. Her smile is still as easygoing as ever, as if she hadn’t just blown my mind. But I can’t look away from her. I talked to her like she was just some regular person, and I’m pretty sure I embarrassed myself in the process…

I look away quickly, trying to compose myself. Get it together, you’re here for a job, I remind myself, but it’s hard to focus when I can feel the weight of their gazes on me now that the introductions are over. Everyone knows who they are—Blackpink, one of the most successful K-POP groups in the world—and I’m here… just a random scriptwriter trying not to make a fool of myself.

Jihye, after the women introduced themselves, steps in. She nods toward Blackpink. “As I mentioned before, your role will be to document the behind-the-scenes aspects of this production. The Korean production team here will be helping us coordinate everything with the girl’s schedules. We’ll also be working on getting interviews with the girls at certain points. As usual, we’ll keep things flexible, but we expect full cooperation from everyone.”

Lisa, Rosé, Jisoo, and Jennie listen intently, nodding in agreement. Jennie gives me a reassuring smile, which only adds to the conflict I’m feeling inside—how can she be this calm when I’m over here about to lose it?

The room fills with brief chatter, and I take a small step back, my eyes darting around the room. It’s hard to focus on anything else when Jennie keeps crossing my mind. She’s famous. This is a big deal. And I’ve just been having casual conversations with her like she’s another crew member. I try to shake off the feeling, but it lingers.

After the meeting wraps up, Blackpink stands up and begins to make their way out of the room, their team quickly following behind them. The atmosphere shifts from formal introductions to a focused and high-energy buzz as they prepare for their upcoming performance. I watch them go, noticing how they move with such precision, as though they’ve done this thousands of times. It’s impressive, really.

“Alright, time for the girls to get ready,” Jihye announces to the group. “You all can stay and watch the performance, but we need to stay out of their way. Don’t bother them unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Our crew begins to shuffle out of the room, heading toward various areas where they can catch a glimpse of the performance or set up for the next phase of filming. Jonathan waves at me as he walks past. “Come on, man! It’s a killer show, you should check it out!” he calls out, his usual upbeat energy making it hard to refuse.

But instead of joining the others, I hesitate. I’m still a bit rattled from the whole introduction and the whole ‘I’m working with Blackpink’ realization. Plus, I don’t really feel like I belong in the midst of it all. So I make my way over to a seat in the corner of the room where there’s a small TV screen set up, showing the live feed from the main stage.

I sit down, placing my notebook and pen on the table in front of me, but as I stare at the screen, I realize just how out of place I feel. The stage is lit up with flashy lights, the music blasting through the speakers, and I’m just… sitting here, trying to piece together what I’m supposed to be doing.

I’ve worked on scripts before, but never anything like this. A documentary about K-POP idols? I know next to nothing about K-POP. All I know is the basics—the big names, the trends. But writing a documentary? Writing about them? I don’t even know where to start. It’s not like I can just make up some narrative about their lives—this is real. These are real people, and they’ve worked hard for what they’ve got. I can’t just churn out some generic script about ‘fame and glory.’ That feels disrespectful.

I sigh and flip through my notebook, scanning the empty pages. The pressure is mounting. I can hear the crew talking outside the door, prepping for their shots, but I feel distant from it all. I don’t belong here. I’m not even sure how to approach the documentary aspect. What do I write about? The training? The pressure? The sacrifices? I haven’t even spoken to Blackpink much, aside from a few words during the introductions. What could I possibly write when I’m just an observer?

I glance at the TV again, watching as different groups perform until eventually Blackpink takes the stage. The crowd cheers loudly, their faces glowing with excitement. The girls step into position, their synchronization flawless. The music starts, and their performance begins.

The cameras zoom in on each of them—Jisoo, Rosé, Lisa, and Jennie. They’re confident, they’re talented, and they’ve worked their asses off to get here. I can feel the energy in the room, even from this distance, and a part of me feels… inspired. Still, the words aren’t coming to me. What do I even say about them? What’s the story here?

The TV screen shows close-ups of Jennie, her movements sharp and graceful, and for a brief moment, I forget about everything else. She looks like she’s in her element, and despite all the fame, she’s focused on the performance. It’s… mesmerizing.

As the song continues, I feel a little less like an outsider. Maybe that’s what this documentary needs. Not some grand narrative about fame and fortune, but the journey. The hard work. The dedication. The personal sacrifices.

I scribble down a few notes—nothing major yet, just fragments of ideas. But it’s a start. I’ll figure it out. I have to.

Jonathan pops his head back in after a while, catching me scribbling down notes in the corner. “You good, man?” he asks, a grin on his face. “You missed the best part of the performance! I swear, Blackpink’s energy is unmatched.”

I look up and force a smile. “Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, trying to act like I’m not just completely lost. “Just… working through some ideas. Trying to figure out what angle we’re taking for this documentary.”

Jonathan raises an eyebrow. “No worries, dude. It’ll come to you. You’re a scriptwriter, right? Just think about it like any other project. They’re real people with real stories. All you gotta do is capture that.”

I nod slowly, grateful for his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I feel kind of out of my depth here, you know?”

He laughs, not unkindly. “You’re fine, man. Just remember what you’re here to do. Get the story. Whatever that is, you’ll find it.”

I watch as he walks off to join the rest of the crew. I look back at the TV, watching as Blackpink finishes their performance. They’re so polished, so professional. It’s hard to believe that they were once just trainees, struggling to make it.

The awarding ceremony concludes in a grand finale—flashing lights, deafening cheers, and a sea of idols and staff flooding backstage. The energy is still electric, the excitement lingering even as everyone begins to move back into their respective spaces. It’s a world I still don’t feel like I fully belong in, so I take the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

With my notebook tucked under my arm, I weave through the crowd, my mind already drifting back to my empty hotel room. I need to process everything, figure out how to piece this documentary together. Maybe if I just—

And then, I see her.

My feet stop moving. My breathing halts. The entire world narrows to a single point in front of me.

Jihye walks past the crowd, her head slightly tilted towards the person beside her as they talk animatedly. And that person—her—is a ghost I thought I’d never see again.

Eunji. In all her glory.

Her hair is different, slightly shorter than I remember, but everything else is exactly the same. The way she gestures when she speaks, the subtle tilt of her head when she listens, the quiet grace in her posture. Even in a crowd of celebrities, producers, and staff, she stands out like she always did to me.

I don’t think she’s noticed me yet. My heart is pounding so loudly I can barely hear anything else. I should leave. I should turn around and leave.

And then, her eyes meet mine.

It happens so fast, yet it feels like everything slows down in that moment.

Her steps falter. Her voice dies mid-sentence.

Jihye, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, continues walking for another step or two before she realizes Eunji has stopped.

I don’t know what expression I have right now. Shock? Pain? Confusion? But I know what I see on her face.

Surprise. Hesitation. And beneath it all, something deeper. Something unreadable.

She doesn’t move. Neither do I.

For a second, it’s just us in this entire building, in this entire city, in this entire world. The last time we looked at each other like this… it was when we said goodbye. And now, here we are. Face to face again.

Jihye follows Eunji’s gaze, her brows knitting together in mild confusion at first. But then, her eyes shift back and forth between us, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she starts piecing things together.

Eunji reacts quickly, grabbing Jihye’s arm in an attempt to pull her away, as if this encounter could simply be avoided by walking in the opposite direction. But Jihye is faster. With a firm tug, she pulls Eunji towards me.

I barely have time to react before they’re standing right in front of me, closer than I ever expected to be to Eunji again.

My breath catches. My pulse is erratic.

Jihye stares at me, her expression shifting from confusion to realization in mere seconds. And then, it clicks.

I see it in her face—the way her lips part slightly, her shoulders tensing as if the final puzzle piece has just snapped into place.

I know exactly what she’s thinking.

I’m him.

I’m the guy.

The ex-boyfriend of her little sister.

She remembers. The stories, the late-night talks, the heartbreak Eunji went through two years ago. And now, here I am.

I try to say something—anything—but my voice fails me. My throat locks up. My thoughts are an absolute mess.

Jihye, however, wastes no time.

“Wait,” she starts, pointing a finger at me, “is this why you’ve been acting weird?”

I blink. “What?”

“This. Right here,” she gestures between me and Eunji, her tone laced with something between incredulity and frustration. “Is this why you’ve been acting off ever since we landed? Because you knew she was here?”

My body goes rigid. No, that’s not—

“I—no,” I immediately deny, shaking my head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was here.”

Jihye narrows her eyes. “Then what? You expect me to believe this is just some huge coincidence?”

“I overheard you say her name,” I admit, exhaling sharply. “Back at the hotel. On the phone. But I wasn’t sure. I haven’t kept up with—”

My voice falters.

I steal a glance at Eunji.

She hasn’t said a word. She’s just staring at me.

I can’t read her expression. Is she angry? Shocked? Conflicted? I don’t know. But right now, standing this close to her, I’m remembering everything. The sound of her laughter. The way she’d rest her head on my shoulder after a long day. The way she’d whisper my name when she thought I was asleep.

And suddenly, it feels like no time has passed at all.

Eunji lets out a quiet sigh and places a hand on Jihye’s arm. “언니,” she says softly, her voice steady yet firm. “You’re stressing yourself out.”

Jihye blinks, snapping her attention back to her sister.

And then—she laughs.

It’s not a joyful laugh, nor is it a bitter one. It’s that kind of laugh you let out when you realize just how absurd a situation is.

“God,” Jihye exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is insane.”

Neither I nor Eunji deny it. Because she’s right.

What are the chances? Of all the people, of all the projects, of all the circumstances that could’ve led us anywhere else—we ended up here. Face to face again, two years later, in a country neither of us thought we would see each other in.

Jihye looks between us, hesitating. Then she sighs, reluctantly stepping back.

“I’ll… give you guys a minute,” she mutters, pointing at me with a warning look. “But don’t think for a second we won’t be talking about this later.”

And with that, she leaves.

Then, silence.

Awkward. Heavy. Unbearable.

Eunji shifts, crossing her arms loosely, avoiding my gaze. I rub the back of my neck, suddenly hyperaware of the loud chatter in the background, the distant sounds of staff and idols bustling around backstage.

“So…” she starts hesitantly. “How have you been?”

I exhale. “Good. You?”

She nods. “Good.”

Another pause.

I clear my throat. “You… cut your hair.”

She blinks, then lifts a hand to brush a few strands behind her ear. “Yeah. I did.”

A beat.

“Oh. You dyed yours?”

I let out a short chuckle, glancing at the dark brown locks that had once been jet black. “Yeah.”

Another pause.

Neither of us really knows what to say.

We’re just dancing around the obvious, sticking to meaningless small talk because we don’t know how to address the fact that two years ago, we were each other’s everything.

And then—I see it.

Hanging just above the neckline of her blouse, resting lightly against her collarbone, was something I never thought I’d see again.

The necklace.

The very same silver pendant necklace I had given her for her birthday two years ago.

My breath catches for a moment. I should think before I speak. I should just keep it to myself, ignore it, pretend I didn’t see it—

But I don’t.

“You still wear that?” I ask without thinking.

Eunji stiffens.

Her fingers immediately go to the pendant, clutching it as if just now realizing it was still there.

For the first time in this entire conversation, she looks flustered.

Eunji’s fingers remain curled around the pendant, as if its presence suddenly weighed heavier against her skin.

I exhale sharply, rubbing the back of my neck. There’s too much to say. Too much to address. Two years of unspoken words hanging between us like an invisible thread stretched so thin that one wrong move could snap it completely.

But I have to ask.

“Did you?” I finally manage to say, my voice quieter than I intended.

Eunji blinks, confused. “Did I what?”

I swallow, feeling my throat dry up. But I force the words out anyway.

“Did you move on?”

She parts her lips slightly, but nothing comes out at first. And that alone is enough of an answer.

My heart clenches. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. It’s been two years. We’ve had two years to move on. She should have.

I should have.

But I realize now—I never truly did.

I didn’t move on. I just kept moving. Moving forward, moving past, moving away from anything that reminded me of the pain. I let my work consume me because if I kept my hands busy enough, if I filled my mind with new projects, new places, new people, maybe—just maybe—I wouldn’t feel the empty space she left behind.

Eunji shifts, her fingers now fidgeting with the chain of her necklace.

She looks like she wants to say something.

I know that look.

I know it because she’s never been the type to hesitate. She’s always been straightforward. Always the one to say exactly what she means, never holding back, never second-guessing herself.

But right now? Right now, she looks like she’s struggling.

Like whatever words she wants to say are lodged deep in her throat, unable to escape.

And I realize—this is just how it’s going to be now.

A past that we can’t rewrite. A conversation filled with words left unsaid. A distance that two years carved between us, leaving behind a canyon too wide to cross.

Before either of us can break the silence again, Jihye’s voice cuts through.

“은지....” (“Eunji…”)

I turn to see Jihye approaching, her sharp eyes flickering between us, immediately sensing the tension that lingered in the air.

“Mom just called,” she tells Eunji, arms crossed. “She wants you to go home, you have that meeting with one of the company managers at eight o’ clock.”

Eunji hesitates. Just for a second.

She glances at me—just briefly—and I see it.

She doesn’t want to leave.

But she nods. “Okay.”

She turns back to me, lips pressing together. There’s so much more that could be said. So much more that should be said.

But all she gives me is a soft, “Goodbye.”

I try to say it back. I really do.

But my throat closes up, and the words never make it past my lips. I watch her walk away, feeling the same hollowness in my chest that I did two years ago.

And then—I feel it.

The weight of Jihye’s stare.

I don’t even have to look at her to know exactly what kind of expression she’s wearing. This was a bandaid that had to be ripped off.

Jihye exhales through her nose, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. She looks at me, arms crossed, eyes sharp but not unkind. Assessing.

“We’ll talk later,” she states, leaving no room for debate. “Once I’m done with what I need to do.”

I don’t respond immediately. I’m still trying to process everything—Eunji, the necklace, the fact that she hesitated.

Jihye tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “I mean it. I expect you in your hotel room later. And I expect you to be actually ready to talk.”

I nod stiffly, my throat too tight to form words.

Satisfied, Jihye doesn’t linger. She turns swiftly and walks off, her pace quick, efficient, leaving me behind like a storm that just passed—but one I know will circle back soon.

And that’s when it really hits me.

The tightness in my chest expands. The pressure in my head grows unbearable. My breathing feels shallow, uneven, like I can’t quite get enough air. Everything feels too loud, too sharp, too much.

And then—

The sound of retching fills the bathroom of my hotel room.

The force of it sends sharp pains through my ribs, my stomach twisting as I retch again. My hands grip the sides of the bowl, knuckles white. I can’t breathe.

I reach out blindly, fumbling for my phone that had fallen onto the bathroom floor. The screen is still lit, the call timer running.

A voice crackles through the speaker.

“Jesus, at least mute the phone if you’re gonna throw up.”

A groan leaves my throat as I drop my forehead against my arm. “Not now, Valeria.”

Valeria—one of my oldest friends. Someone who has seen me at my worst more times than I can count. And yet, this might just take the cake.

Her voice, though teasing, is gentle. “I get it, dude. It’s a lot.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. She doesn’t even know the half of it.

There’s a rustling sound on her end, like she’s shifting positions. “So. You saw her?”

A harsh, humorless laugh escapes me. “Yeah.”

She exhales. “And?”

I drag a hand down my face, feeling the lingering sting of bile in my throat.

And?

And I feel like I just reopened a wound that I convinced myself had already healed. Like two years of pretending to be fine just shattered within a single second.

Like I’m nineteen again, standing in the middle of an airport, watching the love of my life walk away from me.

I don’t say any of that.

Instead, I whisper, “I think I’m gonna be sick again.”

Valeria sighs into the speaker, the sound crackling through my phone. “Alright, let’s break this down.”

I rub my forehead, leaning my back against the cool bathroom wall. Here we go.

“It’s been two years,” she starts. “Two. Whole. Years.” She lets that sit for a second. “And neither of you reached out to each other in that time. That should already tell you something.”

I clench my jaw. I know.

“I mean, if either of you really wanted to fix things, don’t you think something would’ve happened already?”

I don’t answer.

She exhales again, softer this time. “Look, I’m not saying that to be an ass, alright? I just think… if she really wanted to find you, she would have. And if you really wanted to find her, you would have.”

I shut my eyes. “I wasn’t—I’m not ready.”

“Yeah?” Valeria challenges. “And what if she wasn’t ready either?”

That makes my stomach twist.

Silence hangs between us for a moment before she speaks again. “But, here’s the thing,” she continues. “She was still wearing that damn necklace, wasn’t she?”

My fingers instinctively brush against my collarbone—a phantom feeling.

Valeria clicks her tongue. “So maybe she’s on the same footing as you. Just… handling it better. Then again, Eunji was always the better half in your relationship when it came to dealing with shit.”

I let out a flat, unamused laugh. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

She chuckles. “Anytime.”

I tilt my head back, staring up at the ceiling. I hate how much sense she makes. Then, Valeria’s voice dips into something more serious.

“But let’s get real here,” she says, pausing. “What do you want to do?”

I stiffen.

She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Do you still want to reach out to her? If you do, what would you even say? What’s left to talk about?”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

She keeps going. “Is this really what you want? Or is this just something to fill that void you refuse to acknowledge?”

I swallow hard.

Valeria doesn’t pull punches. She never has. But this? This is a direct hit.

The problem is, I don’t know the answer.

I press the heel of my palm against my temple, trying to will away the pressure building inside my skull. My stomach is still in knots, my body still tense from the conversation. Valeria’s words echo over and over, but I can’t grasp onto them long enough to process them fully.

Because all I can see is her.

Eunji.

The way the light hit her hair just right, revealing subtle strands of color I didn’t remember being there before. The way her lips parted in the slightest when she saw me, eyes widening in an expression I couldn’t quite place—regret? confusion?

She still looked like her. And yet, she also looked… different. More refined, more mature, like time had shaped her into someone new. But at the same time, all I could see was the girl I used to hold in my arms, the one who would scrunch her nose when she laughed too hard, the one who used to steal my hoodies because she swore they were softer than hers.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. I still see her standing there. Still wearing the necklace I gave her.

My chest tightens. That necklace—it was supposed to be a promise. A piece of me she could keep even when we were apart. And yet, after all this time, after everything… she still wears it?

Does it mean anything? Or is it just a habit?

I shake my head, exhaling shakily. God, I missed her. I missed seeing her face. Hearing her voice. But now that I’ve seen her again, it only makes everything worse. Because I know, deep down, I never really let her go.

Knock. Knock.

I blink out of my daze, reality crashing back in like a slap to the face.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, lifting my phone back up to my ear. “Hey, Val—someone’s at the door. I gotta go.”

“Ah, is this your big talk with the sister-in-law?” Valeria teases, but her voice remains laced with concern.

“Most likely, I just hope she isn’t too mad about this…” I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

Valeria hums knowingly. “Listen, don’t freak out. This is going to set the tone for how you handle the next few weeks. You need to figure out what you want to do. Avoidance isn’t gonna work forever.”

Her words sink into me like dead weight. She’s right, but it does nothing to ease the tension sitting heavy in my chest.

“…Yeah. Thanks,” I mutter, knowing she can hear the exhaustion in my voice.

“Anytime. Now go. And don’t throw up again.”

I scoff at that, shaking my head before hanging up. With a deep breath, I straighten up and glance at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My face is still a little pale, but at least I don’t look like complete shit anymore. Good enough.

I step out into the hotel room, my pulse quickening as I make my way to the door. I hesitate for a brief moment before finally gripping the handle and pulling it open.

And just as expected—Jihye stands on the other side, looking more pissed off than usual.

Which is never a good sign.

Her sharp gaze lands on me immediately, eyes scanning my face like she’s searching for something. I barely have a chance to react before she exhales sharply, her expression shifting as if she’s trying to rein herself in. “Can I come in?”

I nod stiffly, stepping aside to let her through. My body feels stiff—awkward—as I close the door behind her.

Jihye takes a few steps inside, hands tucked into her coat pockets as she sweeps her gaze across the room. But then, her eyes settle on me again, and I feel myself tense under her scrutiny.

“You’ve changed,” she finally says, tilting her head slightly. “Didn’t have dyed hair two years ago.”

I resist the urge to touch my head.

“And the beard,” she continues, crossing her arms. “That’s new, too. Not to mention how you dress now…” She looks me up and down, and I suddenly feel uncomfortably exposed.

“You’re not the same kid my little sister fell in love with two years ago. The photos she showed me displayed a kid who seem to be confident.”

Her words hit like a gut punch. A reminder. A truth I’ve been avoiding. Because the thing is—I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

I let Jihye’s words settle in the air, feeling the weight of them pressing down on my chest. I’m not the same guy Eunji fell in love with. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be.

But before I can dwell on that thought any longer, something else gnaws at me—something I should’ve realized sooner.

“I never knew you were Eunji’s sister,” I admit, frowning slightly. “I mean, I never saw you at family dinners or in any of the pictures she showed me.”

Jihye exhales sharply, like she expected this. “That’s because I’m her step-sister.”

I blink.

“She didn’t know either,” she adds before I can even open my mouth to ask. “Not until the year she was getting ready to leave America.”

I stare at her, stunned. “She never mentioned having a step-sister.”

Jihye lets out a humorless chuckle, finally moving to sit down on the small couch in my hotel room. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together. “Not surprising. I wasn’t exactly welcomed into the family for the first twenty-five years of my life.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, but there’s something bitter—something tired—underneath it.

“She found out more about it when she came home. I practically forced myself into her life because I figured it was my last chance to amend whatever relationship we could have left.”

I don’t know what to say.

I never once considered that Eunji had family drama—she never talked about it. Whenever she mentioned home, she always spoke about her mother, about traditions, about how much she missed it. But not this.

Not Jihye.

“…I had no idea,” I murmur, rubbing the back of my neck.

“It’s not exactly dinner table conversation,” Jihye says with a sigh. She leans back against the couch, her sharp eyes locking onto mine. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, are we?”

My throat goes dry.

She tilts her head slightly. “You looked like you were about to pass out when you saw her. Are you going to do something about it?” she asks, her voice steady, unwavering. “Because I need to know.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

The silence between us feels suffocating, like an invisible rope tightening around my throat. Jihye’s question lingers in the air, heavy and unmoving.

Are you going to do something about it?

I try to speak, but my throat locks up. My fingers twitch against my jeans, and I clench my jaw to keep from fidgeting too much. It’s a bad habit I’ve had since I was a kid—whenever I’m cornered, whenever I feel exposed, my body betrays me in little ways. A clenched fist. A twitch in my jaw. A breath held too long.

Jihye doesn’t look away. She’s dissecting me, pulling me apart with just her eyes.

“I…” I clear my throat, forcing myself to sit up straighter. “I don’t know.”

Her expression doesn’t change, but I see the way her fingers tap against her knee impatiently. “That’s not good enough.”

I press my palms against my thighs, grounding myself. “I didn’t even know she was here. I didn’t think—” My voice falters, and I exhale sharply through my nose. “I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”

Jihye exhales slowly, as if she’s trying to hold onto whatever patience she has left. “So, what now? You’re just going to pretend she’s not here?”

I drag a hand through my hair, gripping the strands at the back of my head. “What the hell do you want me to say?” I snap, though there’s no real heat behind it. Just exhaustion. Frustration. “That I’ve been miserable for two years? That I never stopped thinking about her? That seeing her just now made me feel like I got punched in the goddamn chest?”

Jihye raises a brow. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

I let out a bitter laugh and shake my head. “What does it even matter?” I mutter. “She—she looks good. She looks happy. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

Jihye crosses her arms. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

I glance away, staring at the floor. My leg starts bouncing, and I immediately force it to stop. “It’s been two years,” I say quietly. “She never reached out. I never reached out. Maybe that’s all the answer I need.”

For the first time, Jihye’s sharp expression softens. Just slightly. “You really believe that?”

I hesitate. Do I?

The memory of her still wearing that damn necklace flashes in my mind. The one thing I thought she would’ve thrown away the second she moved on.

I exhale through my nose and shake my head. “I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jihye studies me for a long moment before sighing. “Look,” she says, her tone less intense now. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and frankly, I don’t really care.” She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees again. “But I care about Eunji.”

Something about the way she says that makes my stomach twist.

“If you’re going to do something—if you’re going to talk to her, bring up the past, whatever—” Jihye levels me with a stare. “Don’t half-ass it.”

I blink. “What?”

She straightens up. “If you’re going to open that door again, make damn sure you’re ready for whatever’s on the other side,” she says firmly. “Because I’m not going to stand by and watch you screw with her emotions.”

My jaw tightens. “I would never do that.”

Jihye doesn’t back down. “Then figure out what you want. Soon.” She stands up, brushing invisible lint off her blazer. “Because whether you like it or not, you’re going to be in the same damn space as her for the next few weeks.”

That thought alone makes my pulse spike.

Before I can say anything else, Jihye heads for the door, stopping just before she opens it. She glances over her shoulder, eyes sharp once more.

“I’ll be expecting an answer,” she says. Then, without another word, she leaves.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I let out a shaky breath and rub my hands down my face. My heart is still racing. I don’t have an answer. And I don’t know if I ever will.

⤷

The night air is crisp, cool against my skin as I shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket. Sleep never came, not with my mind running in circles, replaying everything—Jihye’s words, Eunji’s face, the weight of the past suddenly slamming into me like a freight train.

So I left.

I don’t even remember deciding to go for a walk. My feet just moved on their own, taking me further and further away from the hotel until I found myself here—some small park tucked away in a quieter part of the city.

The dim glow of streetlights casts long shadows over the pavement, and the air smells faintly of damp earth and leaves. It’s empty, unsurprisingly. Too late for kids, too cold for late-night joggers. The only sound is the occasional rustle of wind through the trees and the distant hum of passing cars.

I sit down on one of the swings, letting my legs dangle as I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees. The metal chains creak softly under my weight.

My thoughts swirl, tangled and suffocating.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I press my fingers against my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe I should just—

A voice cuts through the silence.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I jolt upright, my head snapping toward the sound.

Standing a few feet away, illuminated by the pale glow of a streetlamp, is Jennie.

She’s dressed casually—an oversized hoodie, leggings, sneakers—but even like this, she looks effortlessly put together. Her dark hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and in the faint light, her eyes gleam with quiet amusement.

I blink, caught completely off guard. “Uh—”

Jennie tilts her head. “You okay?”

I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. “I—yeah. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

She hums knowingly, stepping closer until she’s standing just beside the swing set. “Same.”

I glance up at her, raising a brow. “You also take late-night walks to random parks?”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Only when my brain won’t shut up.”

I huff out a laugh, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a moment, neither of us says anything. The silence is surprisingly comfortable, broken only by the occasional creak of the swing as I shift my weight.

Then, Jennie nods toward the empty swing beside me. “Mind if I sit?”

I shake my head. “Go ahead.”

She settles onto the swing, wrapping her hands around the cold metal chains. She leans back slightly, pushing off just enough for the swing to move faintly.

“So,” she says after a beat, tilting her head toward me. “What’s keeping you up?”

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the edge of the swing.

For some reason, with Jennie sitting here—someone I barely know, someone who has no real ties to my past—it feels… easier. Easier to talk, even if I don’t know what to say yet.

I let out a slow breath.

“Just… old memories,” I murmur. “Ones I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with again.”

Jennie doesn’t push. She just nods, her expression thoughtful.

“I get that,” she says softly. “More than you think.”

And somehow, I believe her.

Jennie kicks at the ground lightly, making the swing sway ever so slightly. The cold air nips at my skin, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating as it did earlier.

I clear my throat, trying to shift the conversation to something less… emotionally taxing. “You, uh—your performance earlier was great. The whole show, really.”

Jennie turns her head toward me, an amused glint in her eyes. “Yeah?”

I nod, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know much about K-pop or how these performances usually go, but you guys had the crowd wrapped around your finger.”

She chuckles. “That’s kind of the goal.”

I huff out a laugh. “Well, mission accomplished. It was insane watching it all come together.”

Jennie tilts her head slightly, watching me. “You’re part of the documentary crew, right? So, does that mean you’ll be working with us closely?”

“Uh, yeah. Kind of,” I admit. “I’m the scriptwriter, so I’ll mostly be working behind the scenes. Trying to piece together something good for the documentary.”

She hums, rocking back and forth on the swing. “That sounds tough.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter.

Jennie grins. “So, do you think you’ll be able to write something nice about us?”

I let out a small laugh, though I can’t help but be honest. “I hope so. I still don’t really know what angle to go with yet.”

Jennie nods in understanding, then nudges my shoulder lightly. “Well, if you need any inspiration, you should just watch us more. See how we work, how we interact. It might give you something to work with.”

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” I admit.

She smirks. “I know. I’m full of good ideas.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help the small smile that creeps onto my face.

For someone as famous as she is, Jennie is surprisingly easy to talk to. She doesn’t carry that untouchable aura that celebrities tend to have. She feels… real. Approachable.

For a moment, the conversation lulls, and I find myself just… looking at her.

The way the dim park lights cast a soft glow on her skin, the way the night breeze gently tousles her hair. Even dressed casually, without the glitz and glamour of the stage, Jennie has this effortless beauty to her. But beyond that, there’s a warmth—something about the way she carries herself, the way she speaks so easily, makes her feel more real than the larger-than-life figure I saw on stage just hours ago.

Before I can stop myself, my gaze lingers a little too long, and that’s when she catches me.

Her eyes flick toward me, and a slow smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Are you staring at me?”

Shit.

I immediately look away, clearing my throat. “What? No. Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Jennie echoes, tilting her head playfully. “About what, exactly?”

I hesitate. “Uh… about how I’m going to structure the documentary.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. Because that definitely explains why you were looking at me like that.”

I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. “Alright, fine. You caught me. You’re just—uh—you’re really pretty.”

Jennie blinks, momentarily surprised, before her smirk returns—this time with a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? Really pretty, huh?”

I roll my eyes, feeling the heat creep up my neck. “Don’t make this weird.”

She lets out a soft laugh, nudging me with her shoulder. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.” Then, with a teasing tilt of her head, she adds, “But I’ll take the compliment. Thanks.”

I shake my head, exhaling a small chuckle. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jennie grins, clearly enjoying herself, and somehow, despite my embarrassment, I find that I don’t really mind. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not drowning in my own thoughts.

She swings her legs slightly, her sneakers scuffing against the dirt beneath the swing set. “You know,” she starts, her voice softer than before, “people always assume that being famous is this perfect, glamorous thing. That it’s all just money, lights, and screaming fans.”

I listen, watching as she tilts her head back to look at the sky. “And is it?” I ask.

She lets out a small, thoughtful hum. “It can be,” she admits. “But no one really talks about the other side of it. The pressure, the expectations, the way people start seeing you as an image rather than a person.” She exhales, a faint cloud forming in the cold night air. “Sometimes, it feels like you have to be perfect all the time. And if you’re not, the world won’t let you forget it.”

I let her words sink in. The way she speaks about it—it’s not bitter, but it carries a weight that most people probably never think about. “I guess that’s the difference between fame and success,” I say after a moment.

Jennie looks at me, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

I shrug, glancing down at my hands. “Fame is just… attention. People looking at you, talking about you. But success? That’s something you can actually hold onto. It’s the work you put in, the things you create, the people you affect. One lasts. The other fades.”

She studies me, her expression unreadable at first. Then, a slow smile tugs at her lips. “That’s… a really interesting way to look at it,” she says, and for some reason, that makes my chest feel a little lighter.

There’s a pause, not awkward but contemplative, before I glance at her again. “For the documentary,” I start, shifting the subject slightly, “what would you want to be included?”

Jennie blinks at me, caught off guard. “What I’d want?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “If this is supposed to be a behind-the-scenes look at you and the group, what do you want people to actually see?”

She falls quiet, truly thinking about it. It’s a rare sight—seeing someone who always seems to have an answer for everything suddenly deep in thought. Finally, after a long moment, she speaks.

“I guess… I’d want them to see us as real people,” she says, her voice softer now. “Not just idols, not just performers on a stage, but who we are when the cameras aren’t on. The things we laugh about, the stupid inside jokes, the moments when we’re just… normal.”

I nod slowly, taking in her words. “That sounds like something worth showing.”

She smiles at me then, something genuine and warm. “Yeah. I think so too.”

Jennie leans back slightly on the swing, her fingers gripping the chains as she thinks. “Since I know our schedule, I can probably suggest a few things that might work for the documentary,” she says. “Obviously, you’ll be seeing a lot of our rehearsals and performances, but I feel like that’s only half of who we are.”

I nod, listening intently. “Yeah, I imagine a lot of people already see that side of you in public. What else do you think would be worth showing?”

She tilts her head, considering. “Well… you could visit our dorm.” She glances at me, gauging my reaction. “I mean, you’d have to get it cleared with management and all that, but it might be good for the documentary. Show people how we live, what we do when we’re not on stage.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised by the suggestion. “You’d really be okay with that? Letting cameras into your personal space?”

Jennie shrugs with a small smile. “I think so. As long as it’s not invasive. I mean, people see us all the time when we’re dressed up, performing, doing interviews. But they never really get to see the in-between moments. Like when we’re just hanging out in pajamas, arguing over what to order for dinner, or making fun of each other for dumb things.”

A small chuckle escapes me at that last part. “That actually sounds… kind of nice.”

“It is,” she says, her eyes flickering with a certain fondness. “I think that’s what a lot of fans love to see, too. The human side of us. And honestly, I’d rather be seen that way than as some untouchable figure.”

I take a moment to absorb what she’s saying. It’s refreshing, really—hearing someone like Jennie, someone who’s constantly in the spotlight, want to be seen as just… normal. “I’ll bring it up with my team,” I say. “I don’t know how flexible your management will be, but if it works out, I think it would be a great addition.”

Jennie beams at that, and for a second, I catch myself just looking at her. The way the soft glow of the streetlights makes her features stand out, the way her eyes seem brighter when she’s talking about something she cares about.

She notices once again. “You’re staring,” she teases, tilting her head.

I blink, immediately looking away. “I was just—” I clear my throat. “I was just thinking about what you said.”

She giggles, clearly amused by my reaction. “Right. Sure.”

I shake my head, a small, embarrassed smile forming despite myself. “You know, I’m really not used to this kind of thing.”

Jennie leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “What? Talking to idols?”

“Talking to people,” I admit.

She laughs softly, but it’s not mocking. “Well, you’re doing just fine.”

For some reason, that makes me feel at ease. Like, even with everything weighing me down, I can at least breathe a little easier in this moment.

The air between us shifts as Jennie’s tone softens, her eyes studying me more intently now. “Hey,” she says, her voice quiet, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… is everything alright? I mean, I don’t know if it’s okay to ask, but I can’t help but feel like something’s been bothering you.”

I hesitate, feeling the weight of her gaze and the genuine concern in her words. It’s unexpected, really, and for a moment, I think about just brushing it off. But something about this quiet, open space—this park at night, just the two of us—feels like it’s inviting me to talk.

“Honestly,” I start, letting out a quiet breath, “I’ve just been dealing with some stuff. It’s… been hard, but nothing I really want to get into right now.”

Jennie nods, but there’s still that hint of concern on her face. She tilts her head slightly, giving me a thoughtful look. “I get it,” she says softly. “Sometimes it helps to just talk about it, though. You know, instead of holding it in.”

I give her a small, awkward smile, not sure how to go deeper without really unloading everything I’ve been carrying. “It’s not exactly easy for me to talk about stuff like this. I don’t usually… I don’t know, let people in.”

Her expression softens even more. “I get it. It’s not always easy to open up. But… you’re doing well so far.”

I chuckle nervously, feeling my chest tighten. “Well, it’s just that… I ran into my ex-girlfriend today.” I pause, watching Jennie’s reaction. Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering in them.

“Your ex-girlfriend?” she repeats, her voice filled with curiosity. “Wait—was she someone important to you?”

I glance down at my shoes, the memories threatening to rush back. “Yeah, she was. She still is, in a way. But… she’s also Jihye’s little sister. And that’s… complicated.”

Jennie’s expression shifts, her brow furrowing as the connection clicks. “Oh,” she says, her voice softer now. “You’re talking about Eunji, aren’t you?”

I blink, surprised. “You know her?”

She nods, her gaze thoughtful. “Not well, but I’ve met her a few times. She used to come visit Jihye, and I’d always greet her whenever I ran into her. She seemed nice. But, um… I didn’t realize you two had history.”

I swallow, the lump in my throat growing. “Yeah, well… we do. A lot of it. And seeing her again today, after everything that happened… it stirred up a lot of things I thought I’d buried.”

Jennie looks at me for a moment, her expression soft and understanding. “That sounds rough. I can imagine it must be hard, especially after so much time apart.”

I nod, feeling a strange sense of relief in her understanding, though it doesn’t erase the weight in my chest. “I didn’t expect it, honestly. I mean, I never thought I’d see her again, not after everything.”

Jennie looks away for a second, her gaze distant as she thinks. “It must feel like everything is up in the air now, right?”

I exhale slowly, nodding. “Exactly. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to feel. It just feels like I’m stuck in this moment that I can’t escape from, and it’s… not easy to deal with.”

Jennie gives me a quiet, almost knowing smile, as if she understands what it’s like to feel stuck in something that’s out of your control. “Yeah, I get that. It’s like you want to move on, but the past keeps pulling you back.”

I glance at her, feeling an unexpected sense of connection with her. “That’s it exactly.”

She looks back at me, her expression still warm but now with a hint of something deeper. “So, what are you going to do about it?” she asks softly.

I hesitate, feeling the weight of her question. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I think I’m just… waiting for something to give me an answer. But I’m afraid of what that answer might be.”

Jennie nods slowly, understanding the weight of what I’m saying. “I get it. It’s not easy to figure things out, especially when emotions are involved. But maybe… maybe you’ll get the clarity you need when the time is right.”

I nod, though I don’t fully believe it yet. But there’s something about Jennie’s calm presence, her quiet understanding, that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, things will make sense again one day.

But then, as I look around, I suddenly realize how late it’s gotten. The park is nearly empty now, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. I glance at my watch, startled by how much time has passed. “I should probably head back,” I say, the sudden realization that I’ve lost track of time hitting me all at once.

Jennie nods, standing up from the swing she had been sitting on. “Yeah, I should too. We both have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

As we start walking toward the exit of the park, she glances over at me, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Hey, before you go,” she says, hesitating for a moment, “maybe we can exchange numbers?”

I blink in surprise. “Oh, yeah, of course.”

She smiles, her eyes bright. “I know it’s for the documentary stuff, but also… I think it’d be nice for us to keep in touch. I mean, it looks like you’ll need some friends while you’re here. Things can get pretty overwhelming sometimes.”

I smile back, feeling the warmth of her offer. “Yeah, that sounds good. I appreciate it.”

She pulls out her phone and I do the same, entering my number into her contacts. As she hands me my phone back, she gives me a little grin. “See? We’re already starting to make this whole documentary thing work.”

I chuckle, feeling a little lighter than before. “I guess so. Thanks, Jennie. I’ll keep in touch.”

Jennie flashes me one last smile before giving a small wave, “Goodnight,” she says, her voice soft but warm.

“Goodnight,” I reply, watching as she turns and begins walking away. The way she walks, with her head held high and her confident, graceful strides, makes her seem almost untouchable. Yet, there’s a familiarity in her movements now that I can’t ignore.

I stand there for a moment, just watching her walk away into the distance, the faint echo of her steps gradually fading. I glance down at my phone and see her contact info saved in my list, the number still feeling new and strange. My thumb hovers over it, and for a brief moment, a fluttering sensation fills my chest—something I haven’t felt in a while. But I quickly shake it off, telling myself it’s nothing.

The chill in the air starts to bite at my skin, and I realize just how cold it’s gotten. I shove my phone into my pocket and decide to head back to the hotel. The weight in my chest feels heavier now, but at least I have some clarity. Or at least, I think I do. The cold wind makes me pull my jacket tighter around me as I start walking back, my mind still lingering on everything from tonight.

⤷

Jennie steps into the dorm, the door closing softly behind her. The quiet hum of the place feels oddly comforting after the evening’s excitement. As she removes her shoes and slips off her jacket, she’s greeted by Rosé, who’s still awake in the kitchen, humming as she sips on some tea.

“Oh, hey, Jennie! How was your walk?” Rosé asks, her voice light but warm.

“It was nice. Needed some air,” Jennie replies with a soft smile, though there’s a hint of weariness in her tone. She nods to Rosé before making her way to her room.

Once inside, Jennie locks the door behind her, letting out a deep breath. The weight of the day seems to hit her all at once as she collapses onto her bed, letting the cool sheets soothe the tension in her muscles. She stares up at the ceiling for a moment, letting the quiet settle in around her.

Reaching over, she grabs her phone on her nightstand. As she unlocks it, her thumb instinctively opens her contacts, and her gaze falls on the name that stands out in her list: His name. His phone number, fresh and new, right there in her screen.

A soft smile curls on her lips as she reads his name, thinking back to their conversation. There was something about him that felt… different. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she was glad they exchanged numbers. Despite everything—her busy life, the spotlight, the constant pressure—she’s glad she can still make connections. Still find new friends.

It’s been a strange few years, and she knows it’s only going to get harder with everything changing, but maybe this was a step in the right direction.

Jennie taps her thumb on her phone screen before slowly typing out a message, but after a second of contemplation, she deletes it. Maybe not tonight. Instead, she locks her phone and sets it back down beside her. For now, she lets the stillness of her room wrap around her, a small sense of peace settling in her chest.

End of part I

⤷

Oh, boy!

We got ourselves a multi-parter story boys!

I’ve realized with how long I’ve been writing this story that it was going to be cut apart into multiple parts. This story, same as Road Trip, has been in my drafts for the past few years now.

This one being the longest by three years and a half.

This story went through multiple revisions. It was originally going to be a “Famous streamer meets academic college queen AU.” But, I decided that I wanted something simpler.

I wish I can show you guys just how many times I had to re-write the whole time skip because there were so many road blocks I kept facing. After some time, I finally got what I wanted and now here we are!

Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy this story and I also hope you guys stay tune for what happens next with our characters.

Thank you for reading and I’ll see you guys in the next story! Bye bye!

[dubusnotes]

Road Trip | Kim Dahyun

⤷ (word count: 7,853)

⤷ (genre: fluff, romance)

It was going to be a simple road trip to San Francisco. Ever since the trip to Hawaii was canceled after your family emergency, the plan changed, and it was going to be that Dahyun and yourself were going to spend a week traveling from San Diego to San Francisco. However, with a popped tire and a hotel booking gone wrong, it seemed as if life kept throwing wrenches into your plan.

⤷ ⤶

“Sir, I would like to ask for you to leave now,” An intense anger slowly brewed from within you as you stared daggers into the hotel manager in front of you. It was safe to assume that you were not in the greatest mood, and it isn’t getting any better with the situation you’re in.

You had booked one of the rooms here an hour ago, the confirmation email still fresh in your inbox. And yet, despite showing the reservation details to the hotel staff, the manager insisted that there were no available rooms under your name.

Not wanting to instigate the situation any further, you grab your belongings beside you and exit from the hotel’s reception area. The humid air in the evening envelopes your cold skin causing you to cringe a little at the sudden rise in temperature compared to the air conditioned room inside the hotel.

You spent the better half of the night scouring through endless hotel listings, trying to find a decent place that wasn’t overpriced. After hours of searching, comparing rates, and reading through questionable reviews, you finally secured a reservation—only for it to be tossed aside as if it never existed. The manager’s dismissive tone replayed in your head, fueling your irritation. It wasn’t just the inconvenience of being left without a room—it was the sheer incompetence, the refusal to acknowledge your proof, the complete utter waste of time!

Your fingers tighten around your phone as you storm toward the car, jaw clenched in irritation. The night had already been long enough, and now, thanks to this ridiculous booking error, it was about to get even longer. You yank the car door open with more force than necessary and throw your bag onto the backseat, your frustration boiling over as you slide into the driver’s seat.

“I honestly can’t believe him!” You slam the car door as you get in, still fuming from the hotel debacle. Your hands grip the steering wheel, feeling the heat of your frustration rising once more. But as you take a breath and look over, your gaze falls on Dahyun, who’s been sitting quietly in the passenger seat the entire time. Her calm, steady presence immediately has an effect on you.

Today, she’s dressed perfectly for the cool, foggy San Diego weather. Her soft, colorful sweater clings to her comfortably, the long sleeves rolled just above her elbows to keep it casual but warm enough against the slight chill. She paired it with high-waisted, faded blue jeans, the cuffs tucked neatly into her shoes. A pair of white sneakers, clean but scuffed from the road, complete the look. Despite the day’s challenges, her outfit somehow makes her seem effortlessly put-together, and the simplicity of it only adds to her charm.

She’s looking at you, her eyes soft yet understanding, as if she’s been waiting patiently for this moment to let you vent, and for a second, the weight of your anger lightens. It’s like her calmness pulls the tension from your shoulders, and the knot in your chest begins to ease. You feel like you can finally exhale.

Dahyun smiles gently, giving you that reassuring look she always has when she knows you’re frustrated. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice the perfect antidote to your irritation, “Tell me what happened.”

You let out a long, irritated sigh and spill everything: the search, the confirmation email, the manager’s denial, the wasted time. It all comes out in a rush as you unload your frustration, and Dahyun listens without interrupting, her attention fully on you.

When you finish, there’s a brief moment of silence, and just as you start to gather your thoughts, Dahyun surprises you. She pulls out her phone and smiles. “I went ahead and booked a room at a different hotel. It’s not far, and I made sure it’s a good deal. We’ll get some rest tonight.”

You blink, caught off guard, “You—what?”

She grins, “You’ve been through enough tonight. I thought I’d take care of it for you.” Her voice is warm, confident, and there’s something about the way she’s always so considerate, always stepping in when you need her, that leaves you speechless for a moment. She tilts her head slightly, an eyebrow raising, “Honestly, I had a bad feeling when you were taking so long on the call before we arrived. I knew something was up.”

You blink, surprised. “You… knew?”

She nods, a soft smile curling at her lips, “Yeah, I could tell. You don’t usually take that long on the phone unless something’s really off.”

“I’m really sorry, Dahyun,” you let out a heavy sigh, your frustration fading a little as you watch her, “I wanted this trip to be perfect. It’s just—everything’s gone wrong so far, and I’m the one who planned it.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches out, placing a hand on your arm. “Hey, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Things don’t always go as planned, but I appreciate the time I get to spend with you, no matter what.” Her words settle over you like a gentle breeze, and for the first time that night, you feel a wave of relief wash over you.

The drive to the new hotel isn’t long, but the tension in your shoulders eases as you pull into the parking lot. The warm glow of the hotel’s exterior lights welcomes you, a much-needed contrast to the frustration from earlier. You shift into park and let out a sigh, resting your head against the seat for a moment.

“See? Crisis averted,” Dahyun teases, unbuckling her seatbelt, “and you didn’t even have to throw hands with a hotel manager.”

You snort. “Tempting as it was.”

She giggles, stretching her arms before reaching for her purse. “Let’s just get checked in so you can finally relax.”

You nod and step out of the car, but the moment you move toward the trunk, Dahyun already sees where this is going. “Wait—don’t even think about it,” she warns, eyes narrowing playfully.

You raise an eyebrow. “Think about what?”

“You are not carrying all of our luggage.”

You scoff, popping open the trunk. “Come on, it’s not even that much. I got it.”

Dahyun crosses her arms. “You always say that, and then you end up struggling halfway to the elevator.��

“That’s a lie.”

“That is not a lie.”

You shake your head, grabbing both suitcases before she can argue further. “Too late. Already committed.”

“Unbelievable.” Dahyun huffs but follows beside you, clearly unimpressed. “One day, I’m gonna record you when you start regretting it.”

“You won’t get the chance.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see.” Despite her protests, she doesn’t stop you. Instead, she just walks alongside you, shaking her head with a fond smile.

Inside, the hotel lobby is quiet, save for the soft hum of music playing in the background. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, greets you both with a polite smile. “Checking in?”

“Yes, under Kim Dahyun,” she answers smoothly, stepping up to the desk while you stand beside her, still holding the luggage like a stubborn martyr.

The receptionist types on her computer for a moment before nodding. “Got it. You’ll be on the sixth floor. Here are your keycards.” She hands them over, and Dahyun takes them with a small ‘thank you’ before nudging you lightly. “See? Quick and easy. No fights necessary.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

With the keycards in hand, the two of you make your way down the hall toward the elevators. As you wait for the doors to open, a family walks past—a couple with their young daughter, no older than six or seven, holding her mother’s hand.

Just as they pass, you hear a tiny whisper, though not as quiet as the girl probably intended. “Mommy, that girl is so pretty.”

Dahyun pauses mid-step, blinking, and you catch the way her ears turn the faintest shade of pink. The mother hushes her daughter gently, though she sends a knowing smile your way before continuing on.

You glance at Dahyun, grinning. “See? Even kids know you’re gorgeous.”

She groans, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, stop.”

You chuckle, nudging her shoulder as the elevator dings. “What? I’m just agreeing with her.”

Dahyun shakes her head, but there’s a shy smile on her lips as you step inside the elevator together. As the doors close, you steal another glance at her—at the way the soft glow of the elevator lights casts a gentle highlight on her features, the way her sweater hangs comfortably on her frame, and the quiet confidence she carries even when flustered. The little girl was completely right—Dahyun is so pretty. And in that moment, you can’t help but think that, despite everything that went wrong with the previous booking, being here with her makes it all worth it.

As the elevator hums softly, carrying you both upward, a comfortable silence settles between you. Dahyun leans against the railing, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the keycard in her hand. Her gaze flickers toward you for a brief second before settling on the floor, her expression thoughtful.

“You know…” she starts quietly, her voice softer than usual, “I really appreciate you.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden sincerity. “Where’s this coming from?”

She exhales a small laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Just thinking about everything that happened today. Most people would’ve let the stress get to them, but you kept pushing through.” She looks up, her eyes warm. “Even when things don’t go as planned, you always try to make the best of it. And I just… I love that about you.”

Your heart stirs at her words, warmth spreading through your chest. You reach out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say I handled it gracefully,” you chuckle, “you saw me ready to throw hands with that manager.”

Dahyun giggles. “Okay, yeah. But still. You care a lot. And that means everything to me.”

The way she’s looking at you—soft, earnest, filled with something so genuine—it makes your pulse quicken. You take a small step closer, tilting your head slightly. “If you’re trying to make me fall for you even more, it’s working.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. Before she can protest, you lean in, aiming for a quick kiss.

Dahyun immediately flinches back, eyes wide. “W-We’re in an elevator—”

You smirk. “And?”

“There’s a camera.”

“Relax, the only person seeing this is some security guard watching the feed.”

Her jaw drops. “That makes it worse!”

You laugh, unable to help yourself. “So what? Let him be jealous.”

Dahyun groans, covering her face. “Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

You grin, shrugging. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”

She peeks at you through her fingers before shaking her head with a small, exasperated smile. “Yeah… and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Before you can tease her again, the elevator dings, signaling your floor. As the doors slide open, Dahyun quickly steps out, leaving you grinning as you follow behind, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you.

Stepping into the hallway, you glance down at the keycard in Dahyun’s hand as she double-checks the room number. A few doors down, she stops in front of one with a soft beep from the lock before pushing it open.

The moment you both step inside, a sense of relief washes over you. The room is spacious, illuminated by the warm glow of bedside lamps. A king-sized bed sits against the far wall, layered with plush white pillows and a thick comforter that practically invites exhaustion to take over. There’s a sitting area near the window, complete with a small couch and a coffee table, while a sleek, flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall across from the bed. The window itself offers a view of the city lights below, shimmering against the night sky.

To the right, a door leads to the en-suite bathroom, its frosted glass panel giving a glimpse of the modern setup inside. The polished marble countertop extends across one side, supporting a well-lit vanity mirror, while a walk-in shower with a rainfall showerhead sits on the opposite end.

Dahyun exhales in content, stretching her arms above her head. “Finally.”

You set the luggage down near the bed, rolling your shoulders from the strain of carrying everything. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad?” Dahyun scoffs playfully as she wanders toward the bathroom, peeking inside. “This is so much better than what we almost had to settle for.” She turns the knob to test the water pressure, nodding in approval. “Mmm, I’ve been dreaming about a hot shower all night.”

You smirk, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Too bad I’ll be stuck out here, unpacking all our stuff… while there’s a very pretty woman enjoying a warm shower just a few feet away.”

Dahyun freezes for a moment before turning to you with an incredulous look. “Did you really just say that?”

“What?” You feign innocence, shrugging. “It’s just an observation.”

She narrows her eyes, arms crossing as she leans against the counter. “Uh-huh. Right.”

“Glad you agree.”

Rolling her eyes, she steps past you but not before giving you a light pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for all the hard work,” she teases, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

You scoff. “That was sarcasm.”

“Nooo, it was appreciation,” she insists with a playful grin before disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. You shake your head, chuckling under your breath. Even after a long, exhausting day, she still knows how to keep you on your toes.

As the bathroom door clicks shut and the sound of running water fills the room, you exhale and turn your attention to the luggage. Unzipping the bags, you start sorting through the contents—clothes, toiletries, chargers, snacks. A part of you had been dreading this, but unpacking helps distract you from the lingering exhaustion of the day.

Your hands pause over a neatly folded shirt as a thought creeps into your mind.

This wasn’t how the trip was supposed to go.

You were supposed to be in Hawaii right now, enjoying the sun, the beaches, the endless buffets at the resort. Instead, you had to cancel everything at the last minute after the call about your mom. A heart attack—something you never thought you’d have to deal with so soon. The sheer panic of it all still lingers in the back of your mind. The hospital visits, the constant calls with family members, the sleepless nights spent worrying about test results and doctor updates. The stress had been overwhelming.

But through all of it, Dahyun had been there.

She had stayed up with you during those late-night calls, listening as you vented your fears. She had driven over with food when you kept forgetting to eat. She had reminded you—again and again—that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, shaking your head slightly as you continue unpacking. Even now, as tired as you are, there’s a deep gratitude within you. Maybe this wasn’t the trip you originally planned, but if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you’re lucky to have her by your side.

Just as you zip up one of the bags, the sound of running water comes to a stop. A few seconds later, Dahyun’s voice calls out from the bathroom.

“Babe?”

You glance up. “Yeah?”

“Would be really nice if you could bring me my shower stuff.”

You shake your head with a small laugh, already standing to grab her things. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

There’s a pause, and then—

“Oh, and by the way…” Her voice is casual, playful. “There’s plenty of room for one more person.”

You freeze, blinking.

A beat of silence.

Then you hear her snicker from behind the door. “Kidding!”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head as you grab her shower bag and head toward the bathroom.

⤷ ⤶

The hotel room is finally still, the earlier chaos of the day fading into the background. Both you and Dahyun are freshly showered, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air as you lie side by side on the bed. Dahyun, wrapped in the hotel’s fluffy robe, nestles closer, resting her head lightly against your shoulder as the soft glow of your phone screen illuminates the both of you.

“Okay,” you murmur, scrolling through the delivery options. “What do we feel like? Chinese food? Korean? Or maybe something simple like burgers and fries?”

Dahyun hums, pretending to think for a moment. “Chinese sounds nice. But Korean sounds even better.”

You huff out a laugh. “Of course, it does.”

She lifts her head slightly, peering over at the screen as you scroll past a few places. “Ooooh, wait! Go back.”

You flick your thumb upward, stopping on the restaurant she caught sight of—BCD Tofu House. You glance at her, already knowing what’s coming.

“This one?” you ask.

She nods eagerly. “Yep! They have everything. Sundubu jjigae, galbi, bibimbap, seafood pancakes…” Her eyes gleam as she starts listing off options. “Oh! And we have to get japchae. And some kimbap! Oh, and—”

You glance at her with a raised brow. “You do realize there’s only two of us, right?”

Dahyun turns to you with an innocent smile. “And?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking your head with a small grin. “Unbelievable.”

She giggles, squeezing your arm lightly before nudging you. “Come on, you know you want all of it too.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue, already tapping to add everything to the cart. Truth be told, you really don’t mind. If anything, seeing Dahyun so excited about food—even after the long night you both had—is enough to make you want to order the entire menu just to keep that smile on her face. As you confirm the order, Dahyun settles back against you, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm.

“Estimated delivery time: thirty minutes,” you say, setting your phone aside.

Dahyun lets out a pleased hum. “Perfect. Just enough time to get comfy before we feast.” You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her as she snuggles in closer.

⤷ ⤶

The road stretched endlessly ahead, the miles melting away as the two of you continued your journey north. The drive so far had been a mix of breathtaking sights and frustrating road conditions, a perfect encapsulation of any California road trip.

Starting from San Diego, you had taken the scenic route whenever possible, soaking in the coastal views and making brief stops at notable spots. Laguna Beach had been a quick but worthwhile detour, the cliffs overlooking the ocean giving you both a moment to breathe in the salty air. Newport Beach followed, where you grabbed coffee from a local café before hitting the road again.

Then came Los Angeles.

The city was as vibrant and chaotic as ever. The skyline was impressive, but nothing could prepare you for the traffic. The moment you merged onto the freeway, you felt your patience thinning with every second. Brake lights filled your vision, and despite your best efforts to stay calm, you couldn’t stop yourself from groaning every time the car ahead of you barely crawled forward.

“Remind me why people live here?” you muttered, gripping the steering wheel.

Dahyun giggled from the passenger seat, barely affected by the madness on the road. “Because it’s L.A.,” she teased, snapping a picture of the congested freeway on her phone. “Want me to send this to your family so they can hear you complain about it later?”

You shot her a deadpan look. “If you do, I’m turning this car around.”

But as much as the traffic tested your patience, the rest of the drive made up for it. Dahyun had taken it upon herself to be the car DJ, curating a playlist that consisted of everything from classic road trip anthems to her own personal favorites. Before long, the long stretches of highway were filled with her singing—sometimes beautifully, sometimes purposefully off-key just to make you laugh.

Watching her, completely immersed in the music, her hand drumming against her thigh to the beat, her voice carrying through the car—it made the long hours bearable. More than bearable. You loved seeing her like this, so effortlessly happy despite being cooped up in a car for hours on end.

“Okay, okay, one more!” Dahyun declared as she queued up another song. “But you have to sing with me this time.”

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “Dahyun—”

“Nope, no excuses!” she cut in, cranking up the volume as the opening notes of a ridiculously catchy pop song played through the speakers. She turned to you with an expectant grin, her eyes practically daring you to refuse.

With a sigh, you gave in. And just like that, the two of you were belting out lyrics together, the miles slipping away as laughter and music filled the car.

But then—

BANG.

The car jolted, an unnatural thud shaking the entire vehicle. Immediately, you tightened your grip on the wheel, your instincts kicking in. The car lurched slightly to the right, and an unmistakable thudding sound filled your ears.

“Shit—” you hissed, quickly scanning for a safe place to pull over.

“Dahyun, hold on,” you said firmly, your entire body going into emergency mode. Carefully, you eased the car to the side of the highway, keeping control despite the unsteadiness of the wheel. The moment you came to a full stop, you exhaled sharply, your pulse still racing.

Dahyun let out a shaky breath beside you. “What… what just happened?”

You swallowed, running a hand through your hair before turning to her. “I think we just popped a tire.”

Standing to the side of the car, you let out a long, exasperated sigh as you ran a hand down your face. The sedan—your trusted, fuel-efficient companion for this trip—now sat at an awkward angle, the front right tire completely deflated, the rubber torn from whatever it was that had punctured it. You crouched down, pressing your fingers lightly against the damaged area, assessing the extent of the issue. At least the wheel itself seemed intact, but that didn’t do much to quell the sheer frustration bubbling inside you.

First, the hotel mix-up. Then the exhausting drive through L.A. traffic. And now? A popped tire in the middle of nowhere. This trip was not supposed to go like this.

You clenched your jaw, inhaling sharply through your nose as you stood back up, resting your hands on your hips. Just breathe. Losing your temper wasn’t going to help, but damn if it wasn’t getting harder to keep your patience in check.

Dahyun, sensing the storm brewing within you, stepped in. Without a word, she reached for your hand, fingers lacing through yours in a gentle, grounding touch. You turned to her, and when your eyes met, the frustration didn’t disappear entirely—but it eased. Just a little.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over your skin. “But we’ll get through it. It’s just a bump in the road—literally.”

You let out a tired chuckle at her attempt to lighten the mood, shaking your head. “You and your puns…”

Dahyun grinned before leaning up on her toes, pressing a quick, warm kiss to your cheek. “I mean it, though. We’ll be fine.”

You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders loosening just enough for you to focus. Right. No point in standing around feeling sorry for yourself—this was just another problem to solve.

Rolling your shoulders, you turned to the trunk and popped it open. “I need to move our stuff to the backseat so I can get to the spare tire,” you explained, already reaching for the first suitcase.

Dahyun gave you a small nod. “I’ll help.”

As you shifted the luggage to the back, clearing space for the hidden compartment under the trunk’s flooring, you could already see the spare tire tucked away along with the necessary tools. Taking a deep breath, you straightened up, dusting off your hands before glancing at Dahyun.

“Mind giving me a hand with the tools?” you asked, stepping aside so you could pull out the spare tire.

Dahyun nodded. “On it.”

As you crouched down beside the car, loosening the lug nuts with the tire iron, Dahyun knelt next to you, handing over the tools when needed. Despite the inconvenience of the situation, she seemed determined to keep the mood light.

“You know,” she started, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, “this is kind of a rite of passage for a road trip. Flat tire, unexpected detours—just missing a creepy gas station in the middle of nowhere.”

You huffed out a chuckle. “Yeah, I’d rather not check that box.” You carefully removed the damaged tire, setting it aside. “But hey, at least we’re not stranded too far from civilization.”

Dahyun tapped her chin playfully. “I mean, if we were, we could’ve done a survival challenge. Couple vs. Wild.”

You snorted. “Yeah? And how long do you think we’d last?”

She grinned. “Depends—do I get to use my phone?”

“That’s not how survival works, babe.”

She sighed dramatically. “Then I’d give us… two days, tops.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head as you focused back on replacing the tire. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

A comfortable silence settled as you secured the spare tire in place, but Dahyun—ever the conversationalist—kept the energy up. “So, once we finally get to San Francisco, what’s the first thing we’re doing?”

“Took you this long to ask?” You smirked. “Food, obviously. I know you’ve been waiting to hit up all the spots we talked about.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Dim sum, clam chowder in a bread bowl, Ghirardelli sundaes—I’m going to eat everything.”

“I believe you,” you teased. “You’ve been talking about that chowder for weeks.”

“Can you blame me? Fresh seafood just hits different,” she said, pouting cutely after.

You tightened the last lug nut before shifting to sit beside her. “We’ll get seafood, don’t worry. And then, of course, all the sightseeing. Golden Gate, Alcatraz, Pier 39… Might even take you to that secret scenic hike I found.”

“A secret hike?” Dahyun’s eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, keeping your tone casual. “Yeah, figured we could go after we settle in at the hotel. Thought you’d like a quieter spot with a great view of the city.”

Her expression softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “You really do plan ahead, huh?”

“I try,” you said, smirking.

“Well,” she nudged your arm lightly, “I’m looking forward to it. But first…” She glanced at the car, then back at you. “How’s our tire situation looking, mechanic?”

You wiped your hands on your jeans, giving the new tire a once-over. “All set. Not perfect, but it’ll get us there.”

Dahyun clapped her hands together. “Great. Now, let’s get back on the road before another wrench gets thrown into our plans.”

You stood up, offering her a hand. “Deal.”

With that, you both climbed back into the car, ready to keep pushing forward—bumps in the road and all.

› San Francisco Montage ‹

Golden Gate Bridge – The Classic Photo Stop

The moment you parked near the scenic viewpoint, Dahyun was already halfway out of the car, phone in hand. The wind whipped through her hair as she stretched her arms wide, embracing the cool bay breeze.

“Okay, okay, get closer!” she said, waving you over as she set up a selfie. You sighed, playing along, standing beside her as she angled the shot perfectly to capture both of you and the Golden Gate in the background.

“One normal smile,” you warned, “then you can do whatever pose you want.”

Dahyun beamed. “Deal!”

Click.

Immediately after, she switched it up—throwing up peace signs, puffing her cheeks, and making finger hearts at the camera while you struggled to keep up.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

She grinned. “I know.”

Pier 39 – Sea Lions & Sweets

Wandering along the bustling pier, you and Dahyun stopped every few steps to admire the street performers, browse the little souvenir shops, and—most importantly—watch the famous sea lions lazing on the docks.

“They’re so fat,” Dahyun gasped, eyes wide in fascination.

“They eat well,” you chuckled, leaning on the railing beside her.

One particularly large sea lion let out a long, lazy bark, flopping onto its side dramatically.

Dahyun mimicked it perfectly. “Me after eating all day.”

You laughed, pulling her into your side. “You say that, but I know you still have room for dessert.”

“Of course I do,” she grinned. “We’re going to Ghirardelli Square next!”

Ghirardelli Square – Chocolate Heaven

Sitting across from Dahyun at the small table, you watched as she happily dug into a towering Hot Fudge Sundae.

She took one bite, closed her eyes, and sighed in bliss. “This… is life-changing.”

“You said the same thing about the clam chowder earlier.”

“And I meant it.” She pointed her spoon at you. “Great food deserves equal appreciation.”

You smirked, taking a bite of your own. “Fair point.”

Chinatown – Late-Night Dim Sum

Dahyun sat across from you in the tiny, bustling dim sum restaurant, her chopsticks poised as she scanned the bamboo steamers before her.

“Okay,” she said seriously, “if you could only pick one dim sum dish to eat forever, what would it be?”

You thought for a moment before grabbing a char siu bao (BBQ pork bun). “This. No hesitation.”

Dahyun gasped dramatically. “No hesitation?”

“None.”

She narrowed her eyes, then picked up a har gow (shrimp dumpling). “I respect it, but I’m choosing this.”

You scoffed. “Har gow? Over char siu bao?”

“Absolutely.” She popped the dumpling in her mouth, looking smug.

You shook your head. “We’re so different.”

“But somehow, we work,” she teased.

You chuckled, reaching over to steal a dumpling from her steamer. “Yeah, yeah… we do.”

⤷ ⤶

The sky had begun shifting into soft hues of pink and orange as you drove down the winding road leading to the hidden trail. The buzz of the city was far behind now, replaced by the serene quiet of nature. Dahyun had been humming along to the music playing softly in the car, the remnants of the day’s adventures still shining in her eyes.

“You’re really keeping this place a secret, huh?” she asked, glancing at you with curiosity.

You smirked. “Patience, babe. You’ll see soon enough.”

She pouted but didn’t press further, leaning back in her seat. “Well, after today, I trust your picks. This better be as pretty as you hyped it up to be.”

You took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I promise, it’s worth it.”

As you pulled into a small, secluded parking spot near the trailhead, Dahyun stretched her arms over her head. “Ready for one last adventure today?”

You smiled. “Always.” And with that, you both stepped out of the car, ready for the final—and most meaningful—stop of the trip so far.

The trail had been a gentle, winding path through towering redwoods, their ancient trunks stretching endlessly toward the sky, filtering the golden evening light through a canopy of emerald leaves. The air was crisp and carried the faint, earthy scent of pine and damp soil, a refreshing contrast to the salty breeze that hinted at what lay ahead. The rhythmic sound of footsteps against the dirt trail was the only noise, save for the occasional rustling of wildlife in the underbrush.

Then, the trees thinned.

And there it was.

A vast, breathtaking overlook—where the world seemed to stretch endlessly before them. The cliffside jutted out like a natural balcony, offering an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean, its waves shimmering beneath the last rays of the setting sun. The water stretched into infinity, an endless canvas of deep blues and fiery oranges, mirroring the sky above. Wisps of clouds caught the sun’s light, painted in soft shades of pink and lavender, shifting as the evening deepened.

To the right, far beyond the rolling hills and distant forests, the city lay in the distance—San Francisco’s skyline glowing like embers against the encroaching twilight. Tiny golden lights flickered to life, one by one, illuminating the cityscape as dusk began to settle. From this height, everything looked peaceful, untouched by the hurried pace of the world below.

The wind blew gently, cool but not biting, wrapping around you two like a quiet embrace. Birds drifted lazily overhead, carried by the breeze, their silhouettes small against the vast sky. Wildflowers clung to the edge of the cliffside, their delicate petals trembling with each passing gust. The world felt endless and yet intimate—just the two of you standing on the precipice of something both eternal and fleeting.

Fingers intertwined.

A quiet inhale.

Dahyun’s breath caught in awe, her dark eyes wide as she took everything in, tracing every detail like she wanted to memorize it forever. The soft glow of the sunset reflected in her gaze, and though she said nothing, the way her grip on your hand tightened spoke volumes. The wonder, the gratitude, the quiet appreciation—it was all there, written in the gentle way her lips parted, in the way her chest rose and fell, steady but reverent.

Both of you stood there, unmoving, just breathing it in.

The words had been forming in your mind for a long time now, and as you stood there, watching her, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you two, you knew you couldn’t hold them back anymore. The ocean stretched endlessly behind her, the wind playing with strands of her dark hair, the last light of the sun casting a golden glow across her skin. She was beautiful—so heartbreakingly beautiful—and you had to say it. All of it.

You took a deep breath, tightening your hold on her hands before you finally spoke.

“I still remember the first time I saw you,” you began, voice steady but thick with emotion. “Seoul, two years ago. I was wandering the streets after a business meeting, exhausted and hungry, and I walked into that café without thinking twice. And then there you were, standing behind the counter, smiling as you handed a customer their order. I must’ve looked like an idiot when I tried to ask for your number in the worst Korean imaginable.” You laughed softly, shaking your head at the memory. “I was bracing myself for rejection—hell, I was bracing myself for you not even understanding what I was saying. But then you just… looked at me and said, ‘You know, you could’ve just asked in English.’”

Dahyun laughed at that, her grip on your hands tightening slightly, her eyes soft with nostalgia.

“That should’ve scared me off right then and there,” you continued, “but instead, I knew I had to know you.”

Your gaze flickered over her face, catching the way her lips parted slightly, how her expression softened as she listened.

“When we started dating, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. A long-distance relationship never is. But every call, every message, every ridiculous time zone math problem we had to do just to find a good time to talk—it was all worth it. And then, when I finally moved to Korea, when I finally got to be with you every day instead of through a screen… I knew, without a doubt, that I never wanted to be apart from you again.”

Her eyes shone, and though she didn’t say anything, the way she looked at you was enough.

“And meeting your parents?” You let out a small, breathy chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life. I must’ve rehearsed what to say to them a hundred times over, and yet, the second your dad looked at me, I swear I forgot every single word of Korean I had learned.”

Dahyun giggled, covering her mouth with one hand as if remembering the moment. “You were so stiff at the dinner table,” she murmured, her voice full of fondness.

“I was terrified,” you admitted, grinning. “I wanted to impress them so badly because I knew—I knew—that you were it for me. And somehow, despite my awkwardness, despite my broken sentences, they accepted me. Just like you did.”

Your smile wavered for a moment, your expression growing more serious. You exhaled, your fingers brushing over the back of her hands before squeezing gently.

“And then… there was my mom,” you murmured, voice quieter now. “When she had the heart attack, when everything just—stopped—I felt like I was losing it. I didn’t sleep, I barely ate, and I couldn’t think of anything except whether she’d make it. I was completely unraveling.” You swallowed, your throat tightening at the memory. “But you… you were there. Every second. Every late-night phone call, every time I needed someone to remind me to just breathe. You never let me go through it alone.”

A silence fell between you two. The waves crashed below, the city lights flickered in the distance, and the wind curled around you and her, but all you could focus on was her—the way her lips trembled slightly, the way she blinked a few times as if holding something back.

“And even now,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, “on this trip where everything seems to be going wrong, you’re still here. Still making sure I don’t lose it. Still reminding me that even when things don’t go as planned, it doesn’t matter—because as long as I have you, nothing else matters.”

And then, before she could say anything, before you could even second-guess yourself, you let go of one of her hands and slowly, slowly lowered yourself down onto one knee.

Dahyun’s breath hitched.

Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock, and for a moment, she was completely still—staring down at you as the realization set in. The golden sunset framed her like something out of a dream, her dark hair swaying in the breeze, her skin illuminated in the soft, fading light. She looked utterly stunned, her fingers twitching slightly in your hold, and yet… there was something else there too. A raw, overwhelming emotion welling in her gaze, the kind that stole her breath away, leaving her unable to do anything but look at you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t waver, not now. Not when you had spent every second of the past two years knowing—knowing—that this was where you were always meant to be.

You took a steady breath, your fingers tightening around hers as you gazed up at her—this woman who had changed your life in ways you never would have imagined. Your heart pounded so hard you were sure she could hear it, but there was no hesitation, no doubt, only the certainty that had been growing inside you from the very first moment you met.

And so, with all the love you had for her, you finally spoke the words that had been waiting in your heart.

“김다현, 네가 처음 날 놀라게 했을 때부터, 지금 이 순간까지, 그리고 영원히… 난 너를 사랑해.” (Kim Dahyun, from the moment you first surprised me, to this very moment, and forever… I love you.)

Her breath hitched, her hand trembling slightly in yours.

“너랑 함께한 모든 순간이 소중했고, 앞으로도 함께하고 싶어.” (Every moment with you has been precious, and I want to spend every moment from now on with you.)

Her lips parted, eyes wide, glistening with unshed tears.

“그러니까… 나랑 결혼해 줄래?” (So… will you marry me?)

The words hung in the air between you two, soft and unshaken, carried by the ocean breeze and the fading golden light.

For a second—just a second—everything seemed to stop. The waves below, the distant hum of the city, even the wind curling around the both of you. It was just you and Dahyun. Just her.

And then, she let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh, her free hand flying to cover her mouth as her eyes brimmed over.

“바보야…” she whispered, voice breaking as she laughed again, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. “이건 반칙이잖아…” (“You idiot…” — “This is cheating…”)

But then, without another word, she nodded—frantically, fervently—before dropping down to your level and throwing her arms around you, burying herself in your embrace as the tears finally fell.

“Yes,” she breathed against your shoulder, her voice muffled but full of emotion. “Of course, yes.”

And just like that, the world started moving again, but nothing else mattered. Because she had said yes.

⤷ ⤶

The next morning, the air is crisp as you stand at the hotel reception desk, finalizing the checkout process. The receptionist clicks away at the keyboard, printing the final receipt, while you absentmindedly tap your fingers against the counter. Just a few feet away, near the entrance, Dahyun is engrossed in a FaceTime call with two very familiar voices—Nayeon and Jeongyeon, her closest friends from college.

“You better have been taking care of Dahyun this whole time,” Jeongyeon teases the moment she notices you in the background.

You hold up your hands in surrender, feigning innocence. “Swear on my life, I’ve been nothing but good to her.”

Dahyun chuckles at your response before turning her attention back to her friends. “Honestly? He’s been amazing. I don’t know how I would’ve handled this trip without him.”

Nayeon narrows her eyes playfully. “That’s sweet and all, but I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling us…”

Dahyun bites her lip, a subtle but unmistakable sign that she’s holding back something big. “Well… there is something I want to tell you both.” She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “But you have to keep it a secret from the other girls. At least for now.”

Nayeon gasps dramatically, immediately jumping to conclusions. “Oh my god. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?!”

Jeongyeon bursts into laughter, instantly jumping on the joke. “No way. Does this mean I’m finally going to be an auntie?”

Dahyun’s face turns a deep shade of pink as she waves a hand at them. “Yah! Cut it out! It’s not that!”

You chuckle, shaking your head before gently placing a reassuring hand on her back. “It’s okay,” you murmur.

She exhales, glancing up at you before finally lifting her left hand to the camera. The engagement ring glistens in the morning light—an oval-cut diamond, set on a thin band of white gold encrusted with smaller diamonds. It’s delicate, timeless, and perfectly suited to her.

For a moment, Nayeon and Jeongyeon are completely silent, their eyes wide as they take in the sight. Then, in perfect unison, they scream.

“뭐라고?!” (WHAT?!)

“너… 너 지금 약혼했다고?!?!” Nayeon practically shrieks, shaking her phone. “이게 어떻게 된 거야?! 언제 일어난 일이야?! 나 당장 자세한 설명이 필요해!” (“You… You’re engaged?!” — “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? I NEED DETAILS RIGHT NOW!”)

Jeongyeon, still in shock, dramatically clutches her chest. “다현아… 나 오늘 이 소식 들을 준비가 안 됐어…” (“Dahyun-ah… I wasn’t ready to hear this today…”) then, as if snapping out of it, she points at you through the screen. “You! You better treat her like a queen for the rest of your life, got it?”

You grin. “That was always the plan.”

Meanwhile, Dahyun can’t stop laughing at their over-the-top reactions. “I just told you guys to keep it a secret, and you’re already screaming loud enough for the whole city to hear.”

Nayeon waves a hand dismissively. “Please, this is major news. We have a right to scream!”

Jeongyeon wipes away fake tears. “Our 두부 is getting married… I can’t believe this.”

You glance at Dahyun, watching as she giggles, her eyes shining with happiness. Even with all the teasing, you know this moment means the world to her. And to you.

⤷ ⤶

As they drove down the open highway, the hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the stereo filled the space between them. The trip had been anything but smooth—starting from the last-minute hotel booking fiasco to the long hours spent navigating through LA traffic. And, of course, who could forget the damn popped tire? But despite everything, here they were, still on the road, together.

Dahyun sat in the passenger seat, her legs tucked up slightly as she absentmindedly played with the engagement ring on her finger. The way her thumb kept running over the band didn’t go unnoticed by you. Every now and then, she’d glance down at it, a soft smile tugging at her lips, like she was still trying to process everything.

“You keep staring at it,” you teased, throwing her a sideways glance.

Dahyun huffed playfully, but she didn’t stop. “Can you blame me? It still doesn’t feel real.” She turned her hand slightly, watching the way the ring caught the light. “I mean… I knew I wanted to be with you, but you really had to propose on a literal cliff, huh?”

You chuckled, keeping your eyes on the road. “You deserved something beautiful.”

She looked at you for a long moment before reaching over, gently lacing her fingers with yours. “You know,” she started, “this trip was kind of a mess.”

You snorted. “Kind of?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, a lot of a mess. But… it’s also probably my favorite trip ever.”

“Even with the tire popping?”

“Even with the tire popping,” she confirmed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Because no matter what went wrong, you were always there, making sure we were okay. And now…” She glanced at the ring again, her expression softening. “Now I get to spend the rest of my life going on road trips with you.”

You felt your heart swell at her words.

This road trip hadn’t just been about driving from one city to another. It had been about Dahyun and yourself—about everything you two had been through, everything both of you had overcome. The detours, the breakdowns, the unexpected stops… They were all part of the journey.

And just like this trip, life with Dahyun wasn’t going to be perfect. There would be bumps along the way, moments of frustration, plans going completely off-course, but as long as you two were together, you knew you’d would always find their way.

Because at the end of the day, this wasn’t just any trip.

This was your road trip. Yours and Dahyun’s. And it was only just beginning.

⤷ FIN ⤶

And the first story is finished! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe after two years of this story being in the drafts, I finally found the motivation to finish it and release it to the public. I always wanted to take this story and publish it online, but these couple of years have been a rollercoaster of emotions and situations happening.

However, after starting this blog and wanting to start writing again, I just… I just really needed to finish this. I hope you guys enjoyed it and there’s going to be more that will be released in the near future, especially since all of the stories that are under W.I.P have been in my drafts for these past few years now.

Anywho, that’ll be it for me, if you guys want any stories with any of your favorite female idols, let me know! For now, I’ll see you guys in the next story, bye bye!

[dubusnotes]

𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒!

Welcome to Dubu's Notes where I write a bunch of reader inserts and one shots with your favorite female k-pop artists that revolve around reader inserts, imagine scenarios, and one shots!

You can call me Nixy (he/him) and I'm a sucker for stories that ooze with angst and fluff, so you will definitely be getting either the most wholesome stories or the most heartbreaking plot from yours truly.

A little bit of history about me. I've been a K-POP fan since 2016 where I first started listening to BTS and Mamamoo. My ult male group is Seventeen and my ult female group is Twice.

You can probably guess who my bias is in Twice.

If you didn't pick up on it as well, I'm Filipino but I currently reside in California so you'll be getting updates and posts in PST timezone. English is not my first language, it is Tagalog, so apologies if you see any grammatical errors when you're reading my stories.

I'm here to share all the clusters of scenarios and imagines that I've got cooking up in my brain and hopefully you guys get to enjoy! I really can't wait to start publishing these stories with you all, so here's to our happy beginnings!

[dubusnotes]

��� work in progress

⤷ 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 | An Yujin

⤷ 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 | Kim Min Jeong (Winter)

⤷ 𝒜 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒 | Kim Chaewon

⤷ 𝒟𝒶𝓎𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 | Jang Wonyoung

➸ fluff

⤷ 𝑅𝑜𝒶𝒹 𝒯𝓇𝒾𝓅 | Kim Dahyun

⤷ 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 | Kim Min Jeong (Winter)

⤷ 𝒜 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒 | Kim Chaewon

⤷ 𝒟𝒶𝓎𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 | Jang Wonyoung

➸ angst

⤷ 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 | Kim Jennie

⤷ 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 | An Yujin