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honeywobbling · 1 month ago

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HEHEEEE🩷🌷🌷

Playing With Fire

idol!Caitlyn x idol!reader

**songs mentioned: Unforgiven (lesserafim), Kill This Love (blackpink), Close to You (Gracie Abrams), Lilac (IU)**

cw: 19K words | idol AU, rivals to lovers, suggestive, mentions of drinking, set in Ionia but Caitlyn and Reader are from Piltover, mentioned kpop artists but no kpop knowledge needed, honorifics, canon Arcane universe, basically if Caitlyn decided to be an idol, mentions of social media

The applause is deafening.

And it’s all for you.

Well, it's for you and your members. Moonstruck: one of Ionia's most beloved girl groups of the decade. Composed of four members, you shine as the youngest, the maknae, of the group. Being the lead vocalist and lead rapper, you're a natural talent that burns bright in the galaxy of Ionian pop.

While you were once a trainee, working fourteen hours a day to chase your dreams of stardom, you're an idol now. Specifically, an idol standing with her group on the main stage of one of Piltover’s largest music festivals.

"Thank you, Moonbeams!" you call into your mic, addressing the cheering fans that surround the stage. You blink in the bright stage lights, flashing a picture-perfect smile at the hundreds of phone cameras lifted above the audience's heads to record you.

One of your members, Marin, loops her arm through yours. She nods along with what you're saying, her glittery eyeshadow catching in the light. "Thank you!" she adds on, fueling the cheers even further.

Aeri, the third member, comes up beside Marin to hug her. It's a moment that will, no doubt, be posted to thousands of social media threads online to talk about how Aeri and Marin must be in love. Such is the life of an Ionian pop idol.

That's three of the four parts that make up Moonstruck. You, for your talented maknae charm. Marin, for her dance skills and center-like stage presence. Aeri, for her stunningly powerful vocals and visuals.

And then there's Caitlyn.

Caitlyn.

The oldest of the four of you: the unnie. Main rapper, lead dancer, leader. Three positions that don't even begin to describe the sheer amount of talent that Caitlyn holds. She's the most popular idol in the group for a reason. Beyond that, the it girl of your generation – a title that's bound to stick with her for the rest of her career. "Yes," she begins, speaking into her jeweled mic as she turns to the crowd. "We love you all, and we're so thankful for the support that we've gotten on our latest comeback."

She stands at the opposite side of the stage, a small distance from you, Marin, and Aeri. She's all professional, as she believes a leader should be. All that's on her mind right now is delivering the final speech to the audience before you head offstage and rush to the airport. As good as it feels to be back home in Piltover, the four of you have schedules back in Ionia tomorrow.

But you see the phone cameras switching between where Caitlyn stands and where you reside with your two other members, and you know what's coming. An entourage of posts about how serious Caitlyn is, how bad the fans feel for her that she wasn't included in the group hug. Why won't Caitlyn stand with her members? Her members didn't include her in the group hug. Are the members fighting?

You can see the trending captions now.

You gently break from Marin's side, leaving her in Aeri's hold to dart across the stage to Caitlyn's side. Your eyes are locked on the tint of her navy hair that falls around her shoulders, the way her stage outfit accentuates her long legs. Until, finally, you're pressed up next to her, wrapping your arms around her and flashing her an innocently cute smile that only a maknae would be able to pull off.

"We'll see you soon, and– ah–" Caitlyn cuts herself off, glancing down at you. Her blue eyes are blown wide with surprise, though they soon melt into something softer as she wraps one arm around your shoulders.

The cheers reach an even higher level of volume. With you and Caitlyn being the most popular ship in the group, even one of the most popular ships in your generation, you've just switched the trending captions to something entirely different.

Caitlyn continues her speech to close out the concert, but the words go in one ear and out through the other. Your vision is blurred as you gaze at the sea of lightsticks before you, all of them waving in support of you. Your attention is all on your leader, on your Caitlyn.

Yours.

|------» ~~~ «------|

3 years ago.

You first meet Caitlyn during one of your trainee evaluations. You’re both trainees under Ionia’s famous Evxlve Entertainment. The company has plans to debut a new girl group soon, and everyone is gunning for a spot in it. As tiring as the nonstop trainee schedules can get, you can’t seem to be swayed from your dream of debut. Of being a star.

It’s a Sunday morning, and you’re at your usual 11:30 dance practice. Dressed in a simple set of black flare leggings and a cropped top, you stand facing the mirror with some other trainees, waiting for this week’s announcements. It’s a small number of girls: the hand-selected contenders for the upcoming girl group.

Your main dance instructor, Subin, claps his hands at the front of the room. "Alright, everyone, listen up!" he calls out. “This week will be focused on partner work. It’s so you can practice working together before your group evaluation at the end of the month. I’ll read off the pairs, and then you’ll choose a song to perform with your partner at the end of the week.”

As Subin reads off the pairs, somewhere in the middle, your name is called with another that you vaguely recognize. Caitlyn Kiramman. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. It can’t be her. You assume you had simply misheard.

That is, until Subin finishes and everyone’s moving around the practice room to find their partners. You glance around the room with a blank stare, unable to guess where Caitlyn could be. At least, until you notice the navy-haired girl making a beeline for you.

“Hello,” Caitlyn introduces herself when she approaches you, fixing you with a formal stare. “I’m Caitlyn. It’s nice to meet you.”

Accent. That’s the first thing your mind registers when Caitlyn speaks. A proper, posh accent that you recognize as belonging to the highest circles in Piltover. You’re from Piltover, too, and it hits you that it has to be her. Caitlyn: the daughter of Councilor Cassandra Kiramman. “Um,” you blink up at her, eyes blown wide in surprise as you restate your name to her.

Caitlyn nods, her eyes giving you a brief once-over. “Alright,” she stretches out her arms. “So, should we find our own practice room?”

You nod, immediately noting that she’s straight to business. That’s not an issue, though, you lament as you follow Caitlyn down the hall to an empty room. You’re here to work, to achieve your dreams — not to make friends that you’ll probably never see again.

Not that Caitlyn would know anything about that. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you remember the wealth and power of the Kiramman family. You’ve never met Caitlyn before today, but growing up in Piltover, she certainly had a reputation of being the prestigious heir to House Kiramman. You wouldn’t be surprised if her mother’s influence secured her spot at her trainee audition.

When you arrive in the practice room, Caitlyn tosses her bag aside and walks to the center like she owns the place. “So, any ideas for our performance?”

“Um,” you follow her into the room, considering her question. “I’ve been focusing on my vocals and rap lately, so I’d prefer a combination of them.”

Caitlyn nods, leaning down to tie the laces of her brand-new sneakers. “I’ve been focusing on rap, too. That and dance. We’ll have to split the rap parts, then.”

You nod, scratching the polished, wooden floor with the toe of your shoe. “Well, we have to choose the song first.”

“Right. Are you going to help with that? Or is it my choice?”

You blink once. Then twice. “What?”

Caitlyn stands, glancing at you with a blank expression. You can’t read her emotions nor her thoughts — it’s like she has none. “Are you going to help choose our song, or should I do that on my own?” She repeats slowly, as if you hadn’t heard her the first time.

You narrow your eyes at her. Is she trying to take control of this whole thing? “I’ll help, obviously. That’s not even a question.”

Caitlyn merely shrugs, tapping her phone to open her Spotify. She scrolls through her playlists, searching for a song that provides a good combination of vocals, rap, and dance. “Isn’t it?”

You cross your arms, fully glaring at her now. “You seem to think that I don’t want to do any work.”

“I’ve never met you. How should I know if you want to work hard?”

“Most trainees here do,” your tone grows increasingly annoyed. Caitlyn seems to think that she’s the only competent trainee around here, and you can’t stand it. “That’s how I got here. I wouldn’t have survived three years if I didn’t work to stay at the top.”

Caitlyn breaks her gaze from her phone screen to take in your frustrated expression. “You seem angry.”

“Well, I don’t like when people assume things about me,” you state the obvious.

Caitlyn shuts her phone off, ignoring your comment as she turns to face the mirror. “What about Unforgiven by Lesserafim? Rap, vocals, and dance, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling the choice over for a moment before nodding begrudgingly. You hate to give her this victory, but it is a good choice. "Yeah, that's fine.”

“Great,” Caitlyn sits on the floor, back straightened with her perfect posture. Gods, why does everything about this girl seem so perfect? “Let’s get started then.”

By the time an hour passes, you're sweating.

This choreography is hard. You’ve performed tons of difficult choreography before — it should be no big deal. After all, the assignment is to perform only half the song since it’s for a weekly evaluation instead of the monthly evaluation.

What’s really getting to you is Caitlyn’s incessant talking, her corrections on your form when she should really be focusing on her own.

“Wait, stop,” she calls in the middle of the song, jogging over to her phone to pause the music. “That part where we jump forward. You’re putting too much weight on your right foot when you land, so it doesn’t look smooth.”

You huff out a sigh, taking the brief pause as a moment to breathe. “Are we ever going to get through this practice, or are you just going to keep focusing on me when you should be focusing on yourself?”

“I am focusing on myself.” This time, it’s Caitlyn’s turn to cross her arms. “It’s not my fault if I notice your mistakes in the mirror.”

“It’s our first time learning the choreography, Caitlyn.” In your frustration, you forget your formalities. From what you briefly remember from growing up in Piltover, Caitlyn’s a few years older than you, so you should use honorifics. Yet, you can’t find it in yourself to call her unnie like you’re supposed to. “Give me a break.”

“Do you think the people who take breaks are getting into this new group?” Caitlyn’s icy blue gaze pierces your form. “I’m only helping you. It’s better that I tell you than someone else.”

You just glare at her in response. No witty comebacks, no fiery words, just a glare. You don’t have anything to say to her.

“Fine,” Caitlyn exhales, shaking her head. She’s already headed towards her water bottle. “Let’s take five.”

You swallow back a reply, taking the opportunity to grab your own water bottle. You chug the liquid, sitting cross-legged on the floor. When you cap the bottle and set it back down, you can’t help but eye Caitlyn, who’s sitting a few paces away.

“You’re from Piltover.” The words slip out before you can stop them. It’s not a question; it’s a statement.

Caitlyn stiffens slightly as she turns to face you. “How do you know that?”

“I’m from Piltover.”

Caitlyn’s eyes slip closed, leaning her head back against the wall. Her muscles don’t lose their tension. “Oh. I’ve never seen you before.”

“Yeah,” you can’t help the slight scoff in your voice. “I wouldn’t expect you to have.”

Her eyes snap back open, narrowing at you. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” you lift one shoulder in a half shrug. “You’re a Kiramman. Didn’t you go to private schools and do sharpshooting? I’d assume you haven’t met most normal Piltovians.”

“My name means nothing,” Caitlyn’s voice is tight, as if she’s restraining herself. She’s kidding herself and she knows it, but she hates when people talk about her family. Especially her mother.

You can’t resist another roll of your eyes. “Only people like you say that. You can get anything you want in Piltover. Heir to House Kiramman, right? Why are you here if you’re going to be a Councilor like your mom?”

That seems to do it for Caitlyn.

She sets her water bottle down harder than necessary, the resounding thud bouncing off the walls of the practice rooms. “Because I’m not,” she snaps, her eyes flashing with something akin to rage. “Break’s over. If I have to be partners with you, we’re going to do a damn good job this week. I’ll make sure of it.”

Wow. So what you heard was true: she really does have pride.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Practice the next day goes by painfully slow. You’re with an instructor this time: one of the teachers watching you and Caitlyn as you run through the choreography. While your singing is saved for your vocal lessons, these two hours are intensely focused on dance.

The teacher moves around the practice room as the two of you hit each move, watching from every angle. When the music dies, you hit your final pose: a hand on your hip as Caitlyn rests her arm loosely on your shoulder. It’s supposed to seem natural and casual. Except, with the undeniable annoyance between the two of you, everything seems forced and stiff.

The teacher narrows his eyes. “Good,” he says calmly. “Both of you are technically advanced.”

He pauses, and you feel relief rush through you. Praise can be scarce as a trainee, so any little bit that’s given to you is something you tuck away in the back of your mind. The relief is short lived, however, as the teacher clears his throat.

“There’s a big issue, though. You two aren’t working well together.”

“Not working well together?” Your features contort into a thoughtful frown. “We’ve been practicing together.”

“That’s not nearly enough,” the teacher sighs as you step away from Caitlyn, breaking your final pose. “Watching you is awkward. If I was a fan of your group, I’d go online and talk about how you don’t seem to like each other at all.”

Caitlyn bristles at this. She’s a stubborn perfectionist and has been her whole life — of course that comment displeases her. “How do we fix that?”

“Simple,” the man shrugs, stepping towards the door of the practice room before he casts a glance back at you and Caitlyn. “For the next few minutes, you two are going to talk. I don’t care if you want to practice. There’s no good in practicing if you hate each other. So sit down and talk until I come back in the room.”

He leaves without a second thought, your jaw slightly dropped as you stare after his retreating form.

Caitlyn breaks the now-silent atmosphere, giving a resigned shake of her head. “Fine,” she mumbles reluctantly, dropping from her stance to kneel on the wooden floor. “Let’s talk. What’s your favorite color?”

You snort. “That’s your idea of getting to know each other better?”

“Do you have an alternative?” Caitlyn raises her eyebrows, and you concede that she may have a point.

You’re quiet for a moment before you admit yours, taking a moment before returning her question. “What’s yours?”

“Navy,” Caitlyn’s response is quick, as you’d predicted. Her hair, her clothes, even the hairbands she ties her ponytails with — all navy. “What positions are you hoping for? If you make it to debut, of course.”

You hum, considering this for a moment. “I don’t know,” you blink. “I like singing, rapping, and dancing. I want whatever position allows me to do all of them.”

Caitlyn nods at your response, a flicker of approval dancing in her eyes. She admires passion, and it’s clear you have it. “I’d like to be a main rapper, I think.” She pauses, considering it. “Maybe a dancer, too. I’m very fond of perfecting choreography.”

Oh, you can tell. You bite back the snarky reply, choosing your words carefully. “I can already see it. Main dancer, main rapper, visual of the group. Everything you ever wanted, right?”

“Visual?” Caitlyn tilts her head, expression contorting into one of confusion. “I’m not a visual. Where did you get that idea?”

Huh. You hadn’t thought about it much, but considering it now, it seems so obvious. Caitlyn’s gorgeous: shoulder-length navy hair, flawless skin, long legs, and icy blue eyes as clear as water. It had to be in the notes from her audition — some side note the executives had scribbled down as soon as they saw her: stunning visuals.

Now, you falter, unsure of how to describe to Caitlyn just how pretty she is. You had assumed she already knew. “Um, I don’t know. Just a guess.”

You don’t realize how quickly the few minutes go by, even as Caitlyn makes small talk with you. It’s not the most enjoyable interaction, but at least you’re not snapping at each other.

The teacher can tell as much, giving the two of you a shake of his head as he enters the room again. “Okay, let’s run the dance again.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

Over the next few days, practice runs a little more smoothly. It’s not amazing, but it’s better. You don’t want to be awkward with Caitlyn anymore, and it’s clear that she doesn’t either. It’s more like you’re avoiding each other than anything.

That’s the issue, though. Both of your dancing is flawless; you’ve nailed the choreography. But group dances don’t run smoothly when the two people performing them can’t work together.

Caitlyn can’t have this happen. Not when this could threaten her chances of debuting.

She finds you at dinner one night, scouting you out amongst the trainees in the cafeteria. You’re with a few trainees that you’ve become friendly with, chatting amicably, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“We need to talk,” Caitlyn stands with her arms crossed, her stance stoic. You raise your eyebrows, but she doesn’t falter. “Privately.”

“Fine,” you huff, setting your salad — you hate trainee diets — aside to stand from your chair and follow her. She leads you to a hallway near the cafeteria, only populated by occasionally passing staff members.

“We need to pull this shit together,” the words immediately leave Caitlyn’s mouth the second you’re alone. “I don’t care what you do, but this–" she gestures between the two of you "–concerns my debut. And I will debut.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What the hell is your problem? I don’t know what you expect me to do about this. You’re the one that seems to have an issue with me.”

“Yeah, I do” Caitlyn hisses. “You brought up my family. Like they’re the only reason I’m here — like they’re the only reason I have anything! Have you even considered that I have talent?”

“Why wouldn’t I bring them up?” You spread your arms as if to emphasize your point. “You insinuated that I don’t work hard two minutes after I met you! I don’t have a name or prestige to help me, yet I’m the one who’s not working hard? You’re the one that’s been handed everything your whole life!”

“I know!” Caitlyn’s eyes flash, her body tense with irritation. “And I’m sick of it! That’s why I’m here!”

Her words hang in the air as you stare at her blankly. “I— huh?”

Caitlyn sighs, pressing her back against the wall with a thump and slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. “Do you think my mother wants me to be an idol when she’s basically handing me a Councilor position? No, she doesn’t! I don’t want that life. I want to work for a life that I actually want — that I deserve. That’s why I need this performance to be perfect: I'll debut because of my talent.”

It’s silent once again as your mind spins, trying to process what you just learned about Piltover’s golden girl. A few seconds pass before you slide down the same wall to sit next to her on the floor, leaving a respectable amount of distance between you.

“You’re like me,” you mumble, staring at your fingernails. “All you can think of is debuting. You don’t want anything — or anyone — to get in the way.”

Caitlyn’s quiet, and you take that as a chance to continue. “Because it’s all a big competition. We either lose and don’t debut, or we debut and watch our friends go home. It hurts either way. It’s like: the only way we really win is if we avoid getting close to anyone.”

“Right,” Caitlyn exhales, almost as if she’s coming to a realization of her own. “But if we’re both closed off, then we can’t work together. And if we can't work together–" she cuts herself off. She doesn't need to voice the implication of potentially not debuting.

Strangely, you feel something inside yourself shift. It’s not that you’re friends — that would be a stretch — but you can’t see her as awful anymore. Not when you know that she isn’t relying on her parents, that you actually have a similarity between you.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally glancing up from your hands to look her in her in the eyes. They’re slightly softened — as if she’s lost the energy to fight with you. “So, if we both will do anything to debut, then we might as well do this week together.”

Caitlyn meets your gaze, almost as if she’s unsure of your words. She hesitates, then nods once. “Okay. We’ll do this week together.”

You find that practice becomes much more enjoyable after that.

Seeing Caitlyn allow herself to be vulnerable makes a world of difference. It de-thrones her in your mind, causes you to see her as more of a colleague rather than competition. You’re in this together — at least, for right now.

With this new development, the week flies by, and the weekly evaluation arrives in the blink of an eye. You and Caitlyn are one of the first pairs to go, and your performance is met by applause and cheers from the other trainees circled around the room.

Even Subin, carefully watching for any mistakes or minor slip-ups in your work, nods approvingly as the song finishes. You hit the final pose by jutting your hip out, placing one hand on it while your other arm sits loosely at your other side. Caitlyn, for her part, places her arm casually on your shoulder as if leaning against you. It's not forced this time; it's natural.

“Good,” Subin clears his throat. “Very nice. I’ve seen lots of improvement from both of you.”

With that, there’s another round of applause as you and Caitlyn move to sit against the wall with the other trainees. As the next pair stands to perform, you glance at the woman sitting beside you only to find that she’s already looking at you. Caitlyn’s lips twitch into a half-smile, and the message is clear. That was really good.

It’s not long before all the trainees finish and everyone crowds around one of the bulletin boards outside of the room. The higher-ups of the company insist on posting any evaluation scores on paper: posted up like the cast list of a high school play.

Caitlyn’s among the first to see when Subin approaches, posting a sheet of paper to the bulletin board with a thumbtack. With her height of 6’1,” the gods have given her a genetic advantage. She scans the list of partners until her eyes reach where her name is paired with yours — right next to a high score of an A.

A smile grows on her pretty features as she finds you in the throng of girls. “I saw it,” she explains, very pleased with how the performance had gone. “We got an A; that's the highest score they gave out this week!”

“Really?” Your eyes widen as you bounce on the balls of your feet in your excitement. “Oh my gods, Caitlyn, that’s amazing!”

Before you can even register what you’re doing, you surge forward to wrap your arms around her in a celebratory hug. You don’t pause to consider that you hated each other a few days ago — you only think about how you happy you are that the two of you earned the highest score of the week.

Caitlyn stumbles a little as you hug her, eyes widened in surprise. “Um—“ she fumbles her words: something rare for the Kiramman heir. “I—“

It takes about three seconds for you to realize what you’re doing. You freeze, then immediately step back. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just—“ You bite your tongue, cheeks slightly flushed from the awkward encounter. “I got excited.”

“No, no,” Caitlyn assures, shaking her head. She ignores the pink tinge that coats her own cheeks. “It’s okay. We’re one step closer to debut, right?”

“Ah, don’t jinx it,” you insist, smiling despite your embarrassment. “We’re not there yet.”

“No,” Caitlyn agrees as the trainees start to vacate the area, going off to their respective lessons. She moves to join them, lightly touching your shoulder as she passes by you. “Not yet.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

The month goes by in a flash.

And, as much as you hate to admit it, having Caitlyn around helps with the stress.

After your first year of training, you told yourself that you’d never get close to anyone. Girls are sent home for the smallest reasons every month, and the pain of losing your friends was almost too much to bear. It makes for a more lonely experience, but it’s not nearly as heartbreaking.

Yet, you can’t help yourself with Caitlyn.

Something about her presence is calming, like she has it all together, and you discover that she’s actually pretty funny when you get to know her. Such information was discovered when she found you practicing late one night and offered to walk you back to your dorm, making you laugh even in the early-morning hours of sleep deprivation.

The two of you have grown closer over the passing weeks, always finding each other during meals and workouts. You talk about your life back in Piltover: your family and friends that you miss, your hobbies, and the childhood bedroom you had to leave behind. Caitlyn, in turn, tells you about life at the Kiramman manor, growing up as an only child, and how she hopes to prove herself as more than her mother’s name when she debuts.

It’s nice. Too nice.

You find yourself wondering about the possibility of you and Caitlyn debuting together. It’s a slippery slope: a train of thought that you can’t focus on for fear of getting your hopes up. This industry is cruel and unkind, and you’ll be damned if your heart is lost to it.

A reminder of this comes after yet another monthly evaluation. The number of trainees has dwindled, becoming a small group of girls who are all competing for a spot in the upcoming group. You make it past the evaluation. Caitlyn makes it. But one of the trainees you’ve been practicing with the longest, Hana, does not.

You’re curled into a ball against the wall of an empty hallway, willing away the tears in your eyes. You can’t help a few from falling down your cheeks. It isn’t fair. Why does achieving your dream tear you apart from everyone else?

Well, maybe not everyone.

“Hey,” Caitlyn’s voice is softer than usual. You see a flash of navy hair from the corner of your eye as she drops down to your level. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you sniff, glancing up at her with watery eyes. “Hana was such a good dancer. I can’t believe she went home.”

“She was amazing,” Caitlyn nods along with your words. When another tear falls, she hesitates before gently tapping your arm. “Hey, come here.”

You’re compliant, allowing yourself to be gently tugged into her arms. It’s slightly awkward, as you’re sitting next to her on the floor of the hallway, but it’s comforting nonetheless. Your tears soak the shoulder of her t-shirt.

Caitlyn runs a soothing hand up and down your back, murmuring comforting words like the unnie she is. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. There’s much less people now, so all this will be over soon. One way or another.”

You nod against her shoulder, taking a shaky breath before you pull away from her hold. “Do we still have to get our assignments?”

“You know we do,” Caitlyn gives you a sympathetic smile. Usually, right after the evaluation results, new assignments are announced. There’s about a fifteen minute break in between, and you’re quite sure that you’ve already used up that time.

Caitlyn sighs, standing to her feet before offering you a hand. She helps you up before lacing her fingers through yours. Her nails are perfectly manicured, as always. “Ready?” She asks, leading you back through the hallways towards the evaluation room.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you mumble. At this point, you’re just tired. Tired of losing people who worked hard for years at a time to reach their dream. Tired of worrying that it could be you one day.

Caitlyn knows — of course she knows. She squeezes your hand twice as you approach the door where Subin is waiting.

“Ah, good, you’re both here,” Subin checks his clipboard. “You both need to go to room 205. It’s just down the hall to the left.”

Caitlyn tilts her head in confusion. “But we usually get our assignments here.”

Subin shakes his head, ignoring the girls trickling into the room behind him. He doesn’t stop them – just you and Caitlyn. “We’re splitting up. I’ll join the two of you in a moment.”

You glance up at Caitlyn in question, but she just shrugs. There’s probably some technical reason for this. Maybe they’re splitting the group in half with two different assignments.

When you follow Caitlyn into room 205, you spot two other girls already in there: Aeri and Marin. You bow as you enter the room, offering greetings to the two older girls. You’ve trained with them for a while now, so working with them is nothing new.

Subin enters the room some minutes later, followed by a few other staff members. He closes the door behind him before stepping in front of the four of the you. You study his blank expression, even as your eyes are still puffy from crying.

He clears his throat before he speaks. “Caitlyn, Aeri, Marin,” Subin starts, stating your names in age order from oldest to youngest. Your name is said last, of course. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve taken you separately.”

You glance at the three girls around you, but you see nothing but confusion in their eyes. None of you know why you’re here.

Luckily, none of you need to wonder much longer.

“We want to test the four of you as a debut lineup.”

Silence.

You stand as if rooted to the ground, unmoving while you stare at your instructor. You can’t even look at the other girls because there’s no way you heard that right.

Subin takes the lack of response as a signal to continue. “This isn’t the confirmed lineup,” he clarifies. “We have to test how the four of you work together and fit the concept we want. But right now, you four are our choices for debut.”

…

“What?!”

Marin screeches, breaking the silence by bouncing up and down in shocked excitement. Normally, no trainee would dare to be so informal with their instructors. But in this moment, she just can’t help herself.

Marin’s outburst seems to snap Caitlyn and Aeri out of their shock as well. Aeri joins Marin in squealing incoherent words, repeatedly gushing “thank you” to the staff in between shrieks of disbelief.

Caitlyn, meanwhile, moves to hug you tightly. “We did it,” her voice trembles with emotion, almost suffocating you with how strongly she’s holding you.

All you can there is stand there, frozen in shock. You can’t even move to hug Caitlyn back. All you can do is tremble, not even speaking until Caitlyn pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“We’re—“ you gasp, your hands moving to grip Caitlyn’s forearms as if she’s the only thing that can steady you. “Is this real?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn’s thumbs skate across your cheeks, and it’s only then that you realize more tears have fallen down your face. This time, though, they’re tears of joy. Your vision blurs even more when you see matching tears shining in Caitlyn’s blue eyes. “We’re doing this together.”

“It’s real,” Subin confirms. When Caitlyn’s hands fall from your face, you turn to look back at the staff.

Your instructors wear smiles that stretch across their faces, beaming at you and the three women beside you. It’s as if they’ve been waiting to announce this, and now that they finally have, they’re excited for what’s to come.

As Marin pulls you, Caitlyn, and Aeri into a group hug, you finally realize what’s happening. You’re going to debut. One look at the staff’s facial expressions tells you as much. There’s a lot of preparation to be done, but you know, deep within your gut, that this is it.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

|------» ~~~ «------|

From that day on, your life is full of light.

You go from dreading practice to looking forward to it. The instructors work with you much more closely now, guiding you with more patience than before. Since there are only four girls to focus on, the staff is able to provide much more individual help.

Though, the best part about being in the debut lineup is your relationships with Aeri, Marin, and Caitlyn. You don’t need to be closed off anymore, no longer fearing the pain of losing them.

The first night you move into your new dorm is the best night of your trainee life thus far. The dorm is much bigger than the normal ones, and it’s filled with plush furniture that looks like it came from the cover of a magazine. You get your own room, which is sandwiched between Marin’s and Aeri’s. Caitlyn’s room is at the end of the hall.

That night, you stay up until the early hours of the morning, the four of you sprawled out in the living room like relaxed cats. You talk about your hopes and dreams, and they tell you about theirs. A bond forms in no time: a closely-knit friendship fueled by the excitement of your debut.

Your bond shows, too. Practices run smoothly, the four of you moving in sync as you dance and compliment each other’s vocals. You take notice of the staff’s faces whenever you finish performing: satisfied smiles that convey more emotion than words can express.

There aren’t any bumps in your smooth road to debut.

Well, except one.

“Okay,” Subin claps his hands as he enters the practice room. It’s another day of covering songs by other groups as the producers try to figure out how the four of you work together. “We’re learning another cover today. You’ll be performing Blackpink’s Kill This Love.”

As Subin lists off who will be taking each member’s part, you’re assigned to Jennie’s while Caitlyn is assigned to Lisa’s, Marin is assigned to Jisoo’s, and Aeri is assigned to Rosé’s. You smile as you realize that you’ll get to both rap and sing in this cover: exactly what you were hoping for.

“We’re going to do the Coachella version of this performance,” Subin continues. “We want to focus on stage presence here. Not just getting the choreography right, but drawing the audience in. Remember that while you’re learning this dance.”

With that, practice begins.

The first verse and chorus run steadily as you learn the choreography with practiced ease. Your performance is nearly flawless — at least, until the second verse.

“Alright,” Subin instructs, gesturing to you and Caitlyn. “This rap verse between you two needs to sell it. I’m going to show you a video of the original performance so you guys can see how it’s supposed to look.”

You stand beside Caitlyn, watching curiously as Subin opens YouTube on his phone to play the video. You watch as the two idols perform the choreography, playfully dancing around each other as the crowd goes wild.

No big deal. You’re quite comfortable with Caitlyn now, so dancing together is a piece of cake.

That is, until one of the girls spins the other around. Both of them move in sync, doing two body rolls while pressed against the other: a move that looks a whole lot like grinding.

Oh gods.

“We have to do that?” Your jaw drops as Subin replays the footage. You can’t even look at Caitlyn, knowing that you have to perform that move with her.

“It’s quite, um—” Caitlyn pauses, her eyes locked onto the screen. “—different from what we’ve done before.”

“Yes,” Subin responds simply. His tone is casual, and you know that he’s set on this. He guides you so that Caitlyn stands facing the mirror while your body faces her. “Let's start with that, then. Both of you lift your left arms and touch your hands together.”

You do, and he nods approvingly. “Good. Now, Caitlyn, cross in front of her and press your chest against her back. And then both of you are going to do two body rolls.”

Subin counts out the beats, and Caitlyn crosses in front of you. When you feel your back hit her chest, you attempt the two body rolls. Your bodies move in sync with the little space between you, successfully pulling off the move.

You still can’t look at her.

But Subin shakes his head, frowning at where the two of you are pressed against each other. “It doesn’t look natural,” he states. “The dancing is correct, but both of you look awkward. You have to give the audience the stage presence they want.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” you admit, the words falling from your lips before you can stop them. You step forward and away from Caitlyn before you glance at Subin. “Caitlyn is my friend, and— and the move is so sexy.”

“Yes,” Subin considers, tapping his finger to his chin in thought. A few seconds later, he straightens, gently turning your shoulders so that you’re facing Caitlyn. “Look at her,” he directs. “If you can’t think of doing this move with a friend, then pretend like you’re attracted to her.”

What?

It’s even weirder to think of Caitlyn like that. With how close you’ve grown over the past few months, seeing her in a romantic light is far from what you’re used to. It’s just pretend, you assure yourself. It’s only to help us with our stage presence.

Finally, under Subin’s watchful gaze, your gaze meet Caitlyn’s.

Just for a moment, you let your eyes trail over her form like you want her. Caitlyn’s beautiful, even in her simple black sweatpants and cropped top. Her hair is thrown up into a messy ponytail, loose strands of hair falling to frame her face. You almost want to reach out and brush them out of the way. Maybe you would — if only it didn’t look so perfect on her.

You can almost feel her icy-blue stare on you, and you know that she’s doing the same thing. Pretending that she wants you.

It sends a tingle down your spine — an emotion that you can’t quite place.

“Okay,” Subin seems oblivious to the whirlwind of thoughts that clouds your mind. “Let’s try it again. Pretend the mirror is the audience watching your performance.”

This time, the air between you and Caitlyn feels charged as you return to your starting positions. Both of you lift your left arms and let your hands touch before Caitlyn circles you and presses against you from behind. Your bodies roll in sync, looking a lot more like grinding this time. Your matching smiles aimed at the mirror are almost sultry as you play it up for extra stage presence.

As Subin finishes counting out the beats, he grins at the two of you. “Much better. We can move on now, and then we’ll run the dance through once we’re done.”

As practice continues, your mind is elsewhere. Thinking of Caitlyn, your unnie, in a romantic way had certainly been weird. Your stomach dips as you remember the feeling of her eyes on you, studying you in a way she hadn’t before.

But that was just because it had felt unnatural to look at each other that way.

Right?

You push the thought out of your head. Instead, you continue on with your day by finishing dance practice, going to vocals practice to sing through your lines, and your meals and exercise. You content yourself with talking and laughing with Marin and Aeri, forcing any thoughts of Caitlyn out of your head whenever you speak to her.

It’s not until later that night, when you’re lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling of your brand-new dorm, that your mind wanders back to that moment between you. When sleep calls to you, your eyes sliding shut in exhaustion, the thought never leaves your head entirely.

Caitlyn is really beautiful.

|------» ~~~ «------|

A few days later, the four of you perform the cover of Kill This Love in front of several producers and instructors. You channel all your energy, putting your all into your facial expressions and smooth dance moves.

When it comes time for the second verse of the song, you remind yourself about what Subin had told you. Pretend like you're attracted to her.

It's your line up first.

Feelin’ like a sinner

It’s so fire with him, I go boo-ooh

Caitlyn kneels in front of you, both of you facing the mirrors. You both fold your hands for the first part of the line, and Caitlyn stands back up during the second.

Next, it’s Caitlyn’s line.

He said “you look crazy”

Thank you baby, I owe it all to you

The two of you lean in opposite directions, then straighten back up and pop your chests along with the beat.

You rap again, taking the third line.

Got me all messed up

His love is my favorite

This is the moment you've practiced for.

You lift your arm so your left hand meets Caitlyn's as she moves behind you, pressing herself up against you yet again. You can feel the warmth of her breath on the back of her neck, and you hope she doesn't notice the goosebumps that rise in response.

The two of you body roll smoothly against each other, flashing the producers alluring smiles as if they're fans watching your performance. Your head falls back a little, just barely grazing Caitlyn's shoulder with your height difference. It feels natural: more natural than it should.

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror-lined wall of the practice room, all is lost. Your bodies are drawn together as if they’re magnets, and Caitlyn’s blue eyes appear a shade darker than they normally are.

Heat pools in your stomach at the sight. It's just anxiety, you tell yourself. You're anxious about doing well in this performance — that's all. There isn’t any other reason for you to react in such a way.

Yet, the little voice in the back of your head wonders if Caitlyn feels the heat too.

Shaken from the idea, you push that thought to the back of your mind as Caitlyn continues to rap before Aeri and Marin take over the vocals to finish the song.

But you plus me sadly can be dangerous

"Wow!" Subin claps, leading the producers and instructors in a round of applause. You stand between Marin and Aeri while Caitlyn stands next to Marin, the four of you joining hands and bowing to the staff. "That was amazing. Especially the second rap verse,” he glances between you and Caitlyn. “You two work really well together."

Your eyes meet Caitlyn's for a brief second before you're bowing again, a chorus of thank you's spilling from your lips.

"So," Subin considers the four of you standing before him. "Will all of you line up in age order?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but you do so, moving to the end of the line so that it's Caitlyn, Aeri, Marin, and you.

There's a pause.

"This is our final debut group," Subin declares, adjusting his hat as he looks at you one by one. "And we've chosen your positions."

Caitlyn: Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Leader

Aeri: Main Vocalist, Visual

Marin: Main Dancer, Sub Vocalist, Center

You: Lead Vocalist, Lead Rapper, Maknae

"Congratulations," Subin smiles. "The four of you are Moonstruck."

The four of you erupt in a hazy mix of excitement and tears, hugging each other and the staff in celebration. And, despite the unnamed shift in the past few days, Caitlyn's the first person you run to.

"I'm so proud of you," Caitlyn immediately takes you in her arms, hugging you like she won't get another chance to. Her voice is soft, but you can feel the anticipation in her limbs. “We're debuting together. Officially. Just like we wanted."

She really is meant to be the leader, you lament as you linger in her embrace for slightly longer than necessary. Not only is Caitlyn the oldest, but she's been taking care of you ever since the two of you had resolved your initial conflict upon meeting. She’s your rock, your safety.

"I'm proud of you too, unnie," you whisper.

You swear you can feel Caitlyn's breath hitch in her chest, thrown off guard. You've never called her unnie before. She's always been Caitlyn to you: the same girl you grew up hearing about in Piltover.

Now, she's something more. Your friend, your leader, your unnie.

Before she can comment on it, though, Aeri grabs your hand to tug you and Caitlyn towards her and Marin. “C’mon,” she flashes you a toothy grin. “Let’s go out for ice cream. Our debut celebration!”

Marin whoops, already halfway out the door. “Last one out has to pay!” Aeri giggles, already following Marin out of the practice room as the staff packs up their bags to leave as well.

Caitlyn, trailing Marin and Aeri, pauses by the doorway to glance back at you. “You coming?” She asks, offering an outstretched hand to you.

Something about her expression is compelling. Maybe it’s because way her eyes seem to soften when she looks at you, or maybe it’s because she’s always so attuned to your needs. Constantly checking on you and guiding you — such a far cry from how your relationship had started.

A good friend.

You can’t help but smile at her in return, moving forward to take her hand as you so often do. “Yeah, I’m coming,” you sigh as you toss your bag over your shoulder. “And paying, apparently.”

“Good,” Caitlyn seems satisfied with your response, holding the door for you as you make your way out.

“Don’t worry,” she murmurs, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way out of the company building. “I’ll pay.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

Debut is a blur.

You never imagined that debuting would be this hectic. There’s so much to do: recording songs for your first EP, learning choreography, doing photoshoots, opening your group’s official social media accounts, and so on. You squeal when you see the Instagram posts that reveal the members go up. First it’s Caitlyn, then Marin, then you, then Aeri.

Your company is well established, so the debut announcement gets people talking. Moonstruck: a 4-member girl group with a coming of age concept. It opens a range of topics, from fun, lighthearted pop songs to deep songs that convey life’s challenges and pain. There’s buzz around Ionia’s pop industry – everyone speculating about the group.

Soooo excited for their debut! The teasers sound so good

ALREADY STANNING THEM!!!

We need a fandom name ASAP

In the chaos of it all, the night of your debut finally arrives. You sit on one side of a table with Caitlyn, Aeri, and Marin, a camera set up to face you on the other side. It's set to record your reactions to your first music video as soon as it drops. Fans fill the live chat, eagerly waiting for the song’s release.

When the laptop finally begins to play the video, you gasp in anticipation. Watching yourself move onscreen, singing the lyrics that you know by heart, is surreal. You watch Marin’s dancing, Caitlyn’s rapping, and Aeri’s dual vocals and visuals with a sense of pride.

That is your group. These are your members. This is your debut. How did you get so lucky?

The staff cheer when the song drops at midnight, popping champagne and even cutting a cake in celebration of you and your members. You laugh, taking a glass and clinking it against the others in a toast to Moonstruck.

“Alright, alright,” Subin laughs, waving the four of you off. The debut seems to have put him in much higher spirits than normal. “Off to bed. You all have your first Inkigayo performance tomorrow. The driver will pick you up at 8:00 AM sharp.”

That sends you off, walking alongside your three members to get in the car assigned to take you home. It’s a short drive to your dorm: only five minutes or so from the company building.

The second you get inside your dorm, Marin shrugs off her jacket with a sigh. “Well,” she declares. “I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning for our first live performance.”

“Wake me up if I’m not up by 7:00,” Aeri calls as she practically twirls off to her room. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” Caitlyn smiles at Aeri and Marin as they disappear into their respective bedrooms. You expect her to follow in stride — you all need your rest before you sing and dance your hearts out on live TV tomorrow morning. Instead, she nears where you’re sitting in the living room.

You’re swinging your legs back and forth as you perch on the arm of your couch, absentmindedly picking at your fingernails. You can’t even really mess with them: they’re all perfectly done for your debut. Though, right now, the intricate designs seem more annoying than beautiful.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, startled from Caitlyn’s voice interrupting your thoughts. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head. “You should get some sleep.”

Caitlyn just sighs, moving closer until she’s almost standing in between your legs. Any onlooker might raise an eyebrow at the close proximity, but the two of you have been physically comfortable with each other for quite some time now. “You’re not a very good liar, you know.”

“That’s just you,” you flick at a fingernail again. “I can lie. Just not to you.”

“Just not to me,” Caitlyn agrees. She observes your facial expression quietly for a few moments before she speaks again. “You’re anxious about tomorrow.”

You hesitate before finally looking up from your hands to meet her eyes. “Yeah. So many people already know about us, and they’ll all be watching. If we mess up at all, then we’ve already failed on our first day of being idols. Then we’ll get hate and our careers won’t even start and—“

“Hey, hey,” Caitlyn steps even closer, placing her hands on your shoulders and drawing soothing circles with her thumbs. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. We’ve worked so hard to be here, and all the training is going to pay off tomorrow. We’re ready for this. You’re ready.”

You bite your lower lip in thought and shrug, Caitlyn’s hands almost reluctantly falling from your shoulders at the movement. She pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say. So she just takes your hand, squeezing it once before pulling you off the arm of the couch. “Come with me.”

You raise your eyebrows at her request. Still, you still have enough trust in her to let her guide you over to the front door of the dorm. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” is all the explanation she offers. Caitlyn leads you through the door and into the cool, night air, heading up a few, narrow flights of stairs.

“Cait,” you protest, but there’s no real enthusiasm behind it. “We need to sleep.”

“Oh, don’t even try that with me. I know you’re not going to sleep." Caitlyn pays your words no mind as she opens another door at the top of the stairs. “We’re staying here until you feel better.”

“Wha–?“ you start, unconvinced of whatever she’s planning. But when you step through the door after her, your eyes widen.

You’re on the rooftop of your dorm building: a place with an incredible view of the biggest city in Ionia. You take in the glittering skyline in the distance, the lights from the skyscrapers contrasting against the inky black sky.

The rooftop itself isn’t much: just a few pots scattered around with some fairy lights loosely strung above your heads. Still, an understanding dawns on you as you glance around. This is why Caitlyn wanted to take you here. It offers a new perspective, reminds you of the world that exists outside of your own.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, stepping forward to the edge of the rooftop to loosely grip the railing.

“It is,” Caitlyn chimes from beside you. You turn, expecting her to also be relishing in the view of the city, but her eyes are locked on you. And, though you can’t offer an explanation as to why, your breath stills.

Caitlyn’s gaze breaks away after a few seconds, moving to fish her phone out from her pocket. She taps a few times, typing something into a search bar before she sets it on the edge of a nearby pot.

“Come on,” she encourages, tugging you to the center of the rooftop as a beat starts to play from her phone speakers. “We’re trying something new.”

You recognize the song almost immediately, your lips curving into a smile. “What, are we supposed to dance to this?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn responds simply, already swaying in time with the song’s melody. “Now shut up and listen to me.”

If you asked me to, I’d give up everything

To be close to you.

Your smile stretches into a full-blown grin, mimicking Caitlyn’s movements as the chorus of Close To You by Gracie Abrams begins. You would speak, tease her about picking a song she normally doesn’t listen to, but she’d only scold you again for not shutting up and dancing.

So you do just that.

Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met, I wanna be

Close to you

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you fall into a rhythm. Your movements are loose and uncoordinated: so far from what your idol training has shaped your dancing to be. It’s almost freeing.

You hear a giggle slip from Caitlyn’s lips, too, as she dances around the balcony in the same manner. She’d never admit it, but she needs this just as much as you do.

Break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight

Just let me be–

Caitlyn takes your hands in hers, swinging your arms around as the two of you dance together – even going so far as to spin you. Her smile is identical to yours: carefree and radiant. Caitlyn looks the most beautiful when she’s this happy. You wonder how you had never noticed before.

Did time always feel this slow before this moment?

Close to you, close to you, close to you

Just let me be-

It hits you like a lightning bolt.

The way the fairy lights reflect off the blue in Caitlyn’s eyes, the slight gap in her teeth when she grins, the way her navy hair is slightly messed up from its earlier styling.

The way she knew you’d be anxious, how she knew exactly what would comfort you, how she seems to be the only person you’re entirely comfortable with.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Close to you, close to you, close to you.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Over the next month or so, your debut activities skyrocket.

Between live performances, fan meetings, social media livestreams, and even more photoshoots, you barely have time to think about anything besides your work. You love it — of course you do. This is what you’ve worked so hard for, what you’ve dreamed of.

You barely have time to think about Caitlyn, much less your newfound feelings towards her. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. You can’t help sneaking glances at her when you’re in the dressing room, getting your hair and makeup styled to perfection. It’s not your fault that she’s so pretty.

Moonstruck’s popularity explodes over the short time you’ve been active. Your debut song, Allure, charts high on streaming platforms, and your social medias are flooded with likes and comments and fanpages.

Aside from the group’s popularity, Caitlyn herself quickly rises as one the most talked about recent idols in Ionian pop. She has it all: quick raps, smooth dancing, a unique vocal tone, and stage presence with visuals to stun audiences. Whispers of “it girl” flood the internet throughout debut promotions, crowds around the world seeming to fall under Caitlyn’s spell.

You refuse to admit that you might be under it, too. No. That will stay hidden away in your mind to save both your career and your friendship.

That is, until one of your variety show promotions.

Moonstruck is featured on the variety show Knowingbros just a few short weeks after your debut. You sit in a circle among your members and the hosts of the show, Marin on your left while Aeri and Caitlyn are on your right.

“So, all of you seem to have bonded quickly,” one of the hosts comments, leaning back in his lawn chair.

“Ah, yes,” Marin grins, propping her chin up to rest in her palm. “We’re forced to spend a lot of time together.”

“Forced?” Aeri gasps in mock offense, acting wounded as she places her hand over her heart. The hosts laugh, and you’re sure the laugh tracks of a fake audience will be added in once the episode airs.

“Okay, so I want to know,” another one of the hosts starts, gesturing between the four of you. “The classic question. Which member of the group would you date?”

Ah.

Of course. It seems to be one of Ionia’s favorite questions for its idols. It no doubt fuels the fans’ imaginations, as they dream of their favorite groups have secret romances between each other. Now, though, it hits a little too close to home for you. You’re not even sure who to pick in this scenario.

You could choose Marin. Being the second youngest of the group, the two of you are like the sunshine duo that fans love to see together. You always have fun when you’re with her, so choosing her would make sense.

Or you could choose Aeri. She’s so sweet, and her vocals and visuals are to die for. It would be easy to pick her with the reason that she’s beautiful.

Or, well—

You don’t even realize that you’ve zoned out until your thoughts are interrupted by your name being said. “Huh?” You blink, unsure of what just happened.

This response causes another round of laughs from the hosts. The slip-up is sure to be edited later, all for fans to post the clip on social media and comment about how cute it is when you zone out.

“I would choose her,” Caitlyn states calmly, and it’s only then that you realize why your name was said. Your eyes widen as you turn to glance at your leader.

“Oh, and why is that?” A host questions, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Well,” Caitlyn tilts her head in consideration, navy ponytail swinging to the side. “She’s cute. You know, she has that maknae charm. And she’s very sweet, like, she would cook for me and ask me about my day.”

Everyone nods, satisfied by her response. “So you’re already charmed by her?” One man follows up.

Caitlyn laughs, crossing one of her legs over the other. “She has me wrapped around her finger.”

Oh, you hope to the gods above that the camera filming you doesn’t pick up on your flushed cheeks.

Thankfully, Marin diverts the attention by talking about how she would date Aeri. Aeri follows it up by explaining why she would date herself, causing more laughs from everyone around you.

“And who would you date?” One of the hosts asks you as everyone’s eyes turn in your direction — including Caitlyn’s. It’s quiet for a moment as you consider this. What are you supposed to even say—?

“I choose Caitlyn unnie.”

Well, fuck.

"Ah,” the host nods as you nervously adjust your mic. “Why Caitlyn?”

“Well,” you stall a little, appearing to be lost in thought even though you’re really just nervous. “She always takes care of me. We spend a lot of time together, so I think we’d be compatible. And we have really good chemistry,” you cut yourself off, realizing you’re starting a tangent of reasons. You really need to end this. “And she’s, um, sexy?”

Both your members and the hosts gasp, letting out enhanced reactions of surprise for the camera. Luckily, Aeri joins in on your antics, nodding along. “Yes, Caitlyn unnie is our fearless leader,” she jokes, and the hosts take it as a cue to move on to other activities.

The episode airs later that night to audiences around the world. International fans quickly translate the interview into various languages that everyone can understand, and before you know it, the clip of each member talking about dating has been re-uploaded countless times.

And, of course, most of the comments are geared towards your answer matching with Caitlyn’s.

They’re sooo cute together~

THE WAY CAITLYN LOOKS AT HER AHHHHH!!!

She said Caitlyn is sexy!!! They’re definitely dating

In general, the amount of posts shipping you with Caitlyn explodes. The two of you quickly become the most popular ship within the group on every poll on the internet, and fan accounts are made just to share their analysis of the little moments between you.

You scroll through your phone at night, biting your lower lip as you read through the comments. It’s fine, right? Fans ship idols all the time, and none of it means anything. You’re sure that Caitlyn doesn’t think anything of it, anyways.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you lay in your bed, the comforter drawn over your form. Though, when you close your eyes, all you see is the way she had glanced over at you when you were talking during the variety show. A look that the cameras had caught, but that you hadn’t at the time.

Does she always look at you like that?

|------» ~~~ «------|

A year goes by faster than you can blink.

Between your debut and all the chaos of Moonstruck’s first comeback, Eclipse, you feel pulled in a million different directions. It’s exhilarating, but it’s also exhausting. Before you know it, you’re sitting next to your members to crowd into Caitlyn’s phone camera — all for your first anniversary livestream.

Between it all, you lean on Caitlyn more and more. Given your feelings for her, you know that you should be distancing yourself from her. After all, the worst thing would be people finding out about it — worse, if Caitlyn finds out about it.

Still, you can’t help but be drawn to her. Caitlyn is a warm, steady presence: always offering her shoulder when you need to take a nap during car rides, and she always holds her arms out for you to crawl into when you’re both waiting to record a song in the studio.

Fans notice, too. Compilations of cute moments between the two of you and videos hyper-analyzing your relationship only increase whenever the cameras catch you together. Even in the “behind the scenes” video of your first comeback music video, you’re seen sitting comfortably in Caitlyn’s lap as both of you watch Marin and Aeri film their scenes.

Sue you if her lap is comfortable.

It’s bittersweet. Being around Caitlyn makes you happy, especially when she’s soft on you: combing her fingers through your hair and murmuring comforting words into your ear. However, you can’t help but feel a pang in your heart whenever she does so.

It’s close, so close to what you long for. But, in the end, it’s just not. When you lay awake at night, picturing Caitlyn opening your bedroom door and declaring her undying love for you, maybe even pinning you underneath her and kissing you until you’re breathless. Or letting her kisses trail, well, elsewhere.

Lovesick. That’s the word for it. So you just push those thoughts away.

Then comes the Mnet Music Awards.

It’s an ultra-popular award show that heavily focuses on Ionian pop, and this year is Moonstruck’s first year attending. There’s the red carpet, then the awards show: an extravagant celebration of Ionia’s music industry. This year, Moonstruck is nominated for two awards: rookie of the year and best choreography.

Paparazzi lines the red carpet, each person craning their necks to catch a glimpse of approaching idols. The lights from the camera flashes are shockingly bright, and you’d feel a little overwhelmed if you weren’t sandwiched between your members.

Aeri walks first, standing all the way to the left side of the main entrance to the red carpet. Caitlyn follows, then you, then Marin. As you all stand as a group, photographers yell your name among others, attempting to draw your attention for their shot.

“Marin, over here!”

“Aeri, what do you have to say to your fans?!”

“Caitlyn! Caitlyn, just a few questions!”

You stand in line with the rest of your group, smiling and occasionally shifting poses for the paparazzi to capture. At least, for a few minutes. The next thing you know, Caitlyn gently tugs at your arm, leading you to walk behind Aeri and Marin.

As you fall into step beside her, you try to keep your thoughts preoccupied by anything other than how stupidly good Caitlyn looks tonight. A long, black dress adorns her figure, hugging her in all the right places. Complete with a halter neckline that allows her dark hair to be held in an elegant updo, her appearance is flawless.

You’re dressed to match with your own long, black dress. Yours includes a sweetheart neckline so the top can be more form fitting, while the bottom flares out in a tulle skirt. Your hair is styled and down, makeup applied to perfection.

You’re pretty sure that everyone and their mothers have noticed Caitlyn. She’ll undoubtedly make headlines that compliment her fashion sense, questioning how Caitlyn could possibly not be considered a visual of the group when she looks like that. You can’t blame the news outlets for that one.

“You okay?” Caitlyn whispers, her breath fanning against your ear as you continue to walk beside her.

You nod, glancing sideways at her. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Her long fingers wrap around your forearm, gently squeezing it as a subtle show of support. “Good.”

It’s not long before all the artists make their way into the main theatre where the awards show is held. Awards come and go in no time: best male group, best female soloist, song of the year, and so on.

The best choreography award passes, and you don’t win. You don’t mind much, though, politely applauding the winning group as they make their way to the stage to receive the award. It’s an honor just to be here, anyways. Part of you can’t believe it, can’t believe that this is your life now.

“And here are your nominees for best rookie,” one of the presenters announces from the stage, drawing everyone’s gazes as clips of the nominees begin to play — including a clip from your debut music video.

“And the award goes to—“ the presenter pauses as he opens the envelope and glances at the name written on it. “Moonstruck!”

You gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth in shock. As comical as it is, you were not expecting to win this award. After all, there are so many talented groups out there. You stand almost robotically as you follow your members to the stage, watching as Caitlyn takes the golden award in her hands and steps up the microphone.

“Thank you so much,” Caitlyn starts. To everyone, she looks picture-perfect with no hair out of place. It’s just you who can detect the slight tremble in her voice: emotion she carefully conceals from the public.

“We’re so honored to receive this award. We’d like to thank our producers, songwriters, choreographers, and our company for this opportunity. And, most of all, thank you to our moonbeams," Caitlyn beams at the crowd and cameras alike. "You guys mean so much to us, and we hope to continue making music that you love. It’s just the start of our career, and we have so much more to show you. Thank you!”

You smile brightly at the sea of idols before you, bowing alongside your group before heading to the stairs leading offstage. You can’t help but dart up to slip your arm through Caitlyn’s, pressing your side into hers. “Are you okay?” you whisper, repeating her question from earlier.

“Of course,” Caitlyn nods, but you notice the way her eyes gloss over with a shine that definitely wasn’t there before. After you descend the stairs, she hesitates, glancing between the path back to your seats and you. “Um, do you mind accompanying me to the bathroom?”

You almost snort at how posh she sounds, her accent as prominent as ever. Still, you agree. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay,” Caitlyn smooths her dress, glancing over at Marin and Aeri. “We’re going to go to the bathroom. We’ll meet you back at the seats.”

Marin and Aeri nod, making their way back over to their seats. You follow Caitlyn down a side hallway, your heels sinking into the soft carpet of the floor. It isn’t long before you reach a single stall bathroom. Neither you nor Caitlyn gives a second thought about going in together, as both of you have lived together too long to give a single fuck about being in one bathroom.

Caitlyn locks the door as it swings shut behind you, making her way over to the mirror to adjust her hair updo. “I can’t believe we won,” she notes after a minute’s silence.

You lean back against the counter next to her. “Me too. I thought Flurry would win for sure — their debut was amazing.”

“True,” Caitlyn concedes, finally tearing her gaze from her appearance to glance at you. “I guess I never expected to come this far. I hoped for all of this when we were still trainees, but it never felt possible to actually have it.”

You tilt your head, giving her a half-smile. “Me too. But I always knew you’d make it. You were the whole package, even when we were trainees.”

You can see Caitlyn’s blue eyes go all soft, and she reaches out to trace a hand down your arm. “Thank you,” she murmurs, stepping closer to where your back is pressed against the bathroom counter. “We’ve been in this together for so long, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Suddenly, Caitlyn swoops forward, her arms encircling you and almost crushing you against her. "I don't know what I would have done without you," her words are muffled into the crook over your neck as she squeezes you tightly. "You're the only thing that's kept me sane this past year."

“Oh—“ Your eyes widen, caught off guard by her sudden movement. You wrap your arms around her shoulders in a much more gentle embrace as your eyes flutter closed. “I’m glad,” you mumble, and you really are. You like being her person.

Caitlyn moves to pull away a few moments later, but as your eyes blink open again, you realize that she hasn’t stepped back. Instead, you’re standing so close to each other that you can almost feel your breaths mingling. With a start, your stomach jolts as you realize that your palms are still resting on her shoulders.

The alarm bells sound in your head. Too close, too close, too close.

“Um,“ you breathe, so soft it’s almost a whisper. You want to move, but it’s like you’re physically unable to take your eyes off hers. “We should probably—“

“Yeah,” Caitlyn blinks as if she hadn’t thought of that. As if she had forgotten the awards show completely. And yet, she still doesn’t move. You wonder if her feet feel as rooted to the ground as yours do. “We should.”

You should go. You should find your way back to your members to watch the rest of the show. You shouldn’t be doing whatever this is.

Yet, you don’t do any of that. Caitlyn doesn’t either.

And then, Caitlyn’s lips are on yours.

You still at first: completely in shock. Had you initiated this? Had she initiated this? It’s all fuzzy now. Somehow, you had forgotten it all in favor of being wrapped up in her.

Her mouth is impossibly soft, moving against your own in a soft, sweet kiss. Your lips slot together perfectly — as if the universe had made the two of you to be together like this. Your eyes slip closed once again, despite every cell in your body screaming that this is a bad idea. It feels too good to stop.

Her tongue slips past your lips, teasing yours as Caitlyn brings her hands up to cradle your jaw. You let yourself be swept away in the feel of her for a few moments: lost in the way she angles her head to kiss you better and the scent of her expensive perfume. It's as if your leader had casted a spell, and all you can do is follow her in a lovestruck daze as you kiss her in return.

That is, before Caitlyn pulls away with a strangled gasp. Her pupils are dilated as she looks at you, black eclipsing blue. "I–" she gasps. She's never been so at a loss for words in her entire life. "What–? What did we just do?"

Your stomach drops a little at the slight panic in her voice. "Cait," you start, your voice slightly shaking as you hold out your hand in an attempt to reach out to her.

Caitlyn can't seem to hear you over her loud thoughts, nor can she see your attempt at comfort as she paces around the tiled floor of the bathroom. "Oh gods, how stupid could we be? We're in the same group; we'd get destroyed if anyone found out."

She suddenly approaches you again, placing both hands on your shoulders as her gaze cuts through you like a knife. "Listen to me. We can't tell anyone about this. Both of our careers will be over if this gets out, so let's just forget this ever happened. It was a mistake."

You stare at her, words failing you as you try to come up with any response to Caitlyn's demands. Your sweet unnie, normally so attentive to you and your needs, is overcome by worry. "Okay," you manage to whisper. You're afraid your voice will crack with emotion if you speak any louder than that. "Yeah. A mistake."

"Good," Caitlyn exhales, visible relief overtaking her features. She glances between you and the bathroom door. “We have to get back. Just—“ her eyes catch on the tiny smudge of her lipstick on your bottom lip. “Fix your makeup, and I’ll meet you back at the seats.”

You just nod, not trusting yourself with words this time. By the time Caitlyn disappears out the door, casting one long glance at you before it shuts, you’re pressed back against it. Your head leans back against the smooth wood, blinking rapidly. Your eyes sting, shiny with tears that desperately want to fall.

Why does it have to be like this? Maybe you ruined everything by kissing her. Caitlyn’s right: it was so stupid.

You swallow back your tears and that nasty lump in your throat, taking a deep breath. You have to go back out there. You have to smile for the cameras and get through the rest of the awards, and you can’t risk any tears messing up your makeup.

So, instead, you glance at yourself in the mirror. Your reflection seems so much more hollow than before — an expression akin to heartbreak. You bring a thumb up to wipe away the marks of Caitlyn’s lipstick and desperately try to not replay the memory in your head.

Yet, even when you finally make it back to your members, it’s all you can think about. You can’t focus on the awards, nor can you focus on the show ending and idols filing out of the theatre. Aeri has to call your name three times before you finally stand up and walk out to the car assigned to drive the four of you back to your dorm.

The entire ride home is filled with dead silence. Even Caitlyn, who would normally be giving some proud speech while showing off the rookie of the year award, has nothing to say. You just stare ahead, your eyes locked on the front windshield. It’s the only way to avoid looking at Caitlyn.

Marin and Aeri exchange a questioning look over your head. As if, somehow, you can’t see it. It doesn’t take a genius to know how confused they are by the mutual silence of their leader and maknae, as well as the tension between the two of you ever since you had returned from the bathroom.

When you finally arrive back at the dorms, Caitlyn heads straight for her room and shuts the door. No “goodnight,” no reminder of the schedule for tomorrow. Nothing.

You keep your gaze trained on the hardwood floor of the hallway, headed for your room as well when Marin catches you by the arm. “Hey—“ she starts, but she falters when she sees the despondent look in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Again, you swallow back the truth of the situation. “Nothing,” you mumble instead, but your expression doesn’t change.

“I know you.” Marin’s eyebrows furrow. “Something happened; it’s obvious.”

“I said I’m fine,” your voice shakes just the tiniest bit as you yank your arm out of her grasp and dart into your room before she can stop you. Marin’s left staring after you in concerned bewilderment, unmoving for a few moments before she returns to the kitchen to find Aeri.

Meanwhile, in your room, everything looks just as you had left it this morning: desk slightly messy, closet door ajar, and blinds shut. It’s a cruel reminder that everything isn’t the same. This morning, you and Caitlyn had been attached at the hip. Tonight, everything feels so broken.

And it’s only then, when you flop on your bed with your face buried in your pillow, that you finally allow yourself to curl up in a ball of heartache.

|------» ~~~ «------|

The next few weeks are some of the loneliest of your life.

Before, you always had Caitlyn. Whenever something bad happened to you, she was always waiting with open arms, cradling you against her and whispering sweet words of comfort. You’re not accustomed to dealing with sadness alone.

Still, you keep your interactions with Caitlyn to a bare minimum. You speak a little more formally to her, if anything, only asking necessary questions or giving your input on something Moonstruck related. You opt to sit next to Aeri or Marin in the car, too. While you once constantly craved Caitlyn’s touch, you avoid it as much as possible now. It’s a harsh reality-check, a memory of what could have been.

Fans notice, too. Being part of a beloved idol group, cameras are constantly shoved in your face: whether that’s during interviews, variety shows, or social media promotions. You put on an act of the happy maknae that your fans love, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Concern for you swells, and theories of your unhappiness are widespread online.

The worst part, though, is when you film another variety show. You and Caitlyn are always seated apart from each other, with at least one member in between you. You don’t talk to each other, opting to engage with the hosts and the other two girls instead. When the two of you stand near each other for one of the activities and don’t even look at each other, that’s what does it.

“Cold War” allegations spread like wildfire on all social media platforms. Speculations about you and Caitlyn being in a fight, what it’s about, when it had started, and who had started it surface on every Moonstruck thread. Seeing the comments pop up is like your personal hell. Not only are you miserable, but now the whole world knows about it.

NOOOO MY SHIP!!!

They didn’t even make eye contact omg, why are they ignoring each other???

I hope the Cold War ends soon, I miss them sm :(

Caitlyn doesn't mention the comments. She doesn't utter a word about what happened that night.

So neither do you.

It's just quiet. Aeri and Marin try to fill in the gaps by talking more, asking questions that force you to engage with each other. But the issue is beyond what they can solve, and somehow, they seem to understand that.

Unfortunately, though, it’s still awards season.

The MAMA awards is one of the biggest award shows in Ionia. You’ve been looking forward to it for a while — not only because of the ceremony, but for the exclusive after parties. It’s a chance for you to meet and hang out with other idols in the midst of your busy schedules.

Yet, when your company informs you that Moonstruck will be performing, you feel a pit form in your stomach. You love performing, but lately, it’s grown more and more tiring to plaster a smile on your face in an effort to hide your real emotions.

The day comes faster than you’d like it to, and before you know it, you’re being ushered onto the stage for your performance. Hair, makeup, and outfit done to perfection, you feel like a doll dressed up to please.

“Okay, we got this,” Caitlyn whispers as the four of you form a circle backstage. She glances up, her eyes darting past you to glance at Marin and Aeri. It’s like you’re not even there. “We’ve practiced, so just trust your instincts.”

You almost say something. You almost open your mouth to scold Caitlyn, to force her to talk about what happened and what your relationship has become. You can’t stand the tension anymore.

But you don’t. Instead, you step on stage and wait for the music to start, moving through the choreography and singing into your mic.

Once again, being an idol trumps all else.

The after-party comes as a relief hours later. Your arm is linked with Aeri’s as Marin and Caitlyn follow behind you, meeting the bodyguards at the door. You slide your phone into the awaiting basket, this event having banned phones for the sake of idols’ privacy.

Music booms from the DJ’s speakers, some idols already dancing in the center of the room. Other idols are grabbing drinks from the bar or mingling with other artists, and Aeri squeezes your hand. “I’m going to go dance. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you speak loudly to be heard over the music. When Aeri darts off and you lose sight of Marin and Caitlyn, you sigh, bringing a hand up to rub at your temples. You need a drink.

The bar is busy with people laughing and talking, glasses clinking together as they interact. “What can I get for you?” The bartender smiles, peering at you from where he’s mixing a cocktail.

“A few shots of vodka, please,” you request. You toss your hair as you sit at one of the empty bar seats, offering polite greetings to the artists beside you. You need something strong that will hopefully alleviate your suffering.

The bartender just laughs, pouring two shots and pushing them across the counter. “Start with two and see how you feel. Unless you want a hangover tomorrow.”

“I’ll take it,” you mumble into the glass, tilting your head back to take the shot. The alcohol burns, but it’s a nice distraction from everything else you’re feeling.

The idol next to you smiles, her gaze catching yours. You recognize her from some of her popular songs, and she clearly recognizes you. “Rough night?”

“Ah,” you smile, grasping for any attempt to mask your desperation for relief. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s okay,” the idol shrugs, tapping her long nails against the marble of the counter. “We all need it sometimes. I won’t judge you.”

“Guess it’s one of those times, then.” You catch the third shot as the bartender slides it over to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, face contorting at the strong taste and smell of the vodka. “No. I’ll get over it.”

“Well, then,” the idol fixes her stare on you once more. “I can just keep you company.”

A smile tugs at your lips, betraying the throb in your chest. “I’d like that.”

So that’s what you do. An hour later, you’re several shots in, enjoying the feeling of an empty head. Your thoughts and worries seem to have disappeared, and you quite like how blissful and relaxed you feel. Talking to the artists around you seems a lot easier now that you have Caitlyn off your mind.

You’re laughing at some stupid joke the bartender made when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. Still grinning, you don’t hesitate to glance over your shoulder, stumbling slightly as you spin around. You almost don’t catch the locks of navy hair in the dim lighting.

“Are you drunk?” Caitlyn hisses, grabbing your forearm a little harder than necessary.

Well, that didn’t last long.

“‘M fine,” you sigh, almost as if you’re content where you are. Though, if being drunks keeps you blissful even when talking to Caitlyn, you consider it a win.

The slight slur in your words doesn’t escape Caitlyn, and she huffs out a sigh, shaking her head in disappointment. “How did you get this drunk already? What—? Why—?“ she sighs again. “I can’t believe you.”

You squint your eyes at her. “I said ‘m fine. Go away.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow, the blue turning icy. She’s the group leader for a reason — she has a responsibility to make sure that everyone’s okay. “No. I’m not going away when you clearly can’t even handle yourself.”

You scoff, balancing on your heels as you turn away from her and start towards the bathroom. Or, well, where you think the bathroom is. You don’t know anymore. All you know is that anywhere is better than talking to Caitlyn right now.

You make it to the hallway before she catches you again. “Stop, Caitlyn,” you roll your eyes, your filter significantly lowered in your inebriated state. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” her hand catches your wrist this time, tugging you into a more secluded part of the hallway and forcing you to lock eyes with her once more. “But I’m your leader, your unnie. I have to make sure you’re okay.”

“Bullshit.”

This causes Caitlyn’s eyebrows to raise in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You ask if I’m okay now?” The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. You could, but your mind is hazy, and you can’t think of a reason to avoid it anymore. “Nice, Caitlyn. Great job. Leader of the year award.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Caitlyn snaps. She has a temper; you’ve known this for years. It’s just — it’s never been turned on you before. She’s always been incredibly soft with you, holding you in her arms as if you’re something precious to her. Like she's scared you’ll shatter if she isn't gentle enough. “You’re my friend: I can’t just let you wander off, drunk.”

Different times call for different measures, you suppose.

“Oh, I’m your friend?” It’s your turn to snap, your glossy eyes holding a spark of anger. “Your friend. Got it. So you kiss all your friends and then act they don’t exist after? Good to know.”

Caitlyn’s eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing pink. She hastily glances around the hallway to check for any passing idols or staff, but there aren’t any, and the music is too loud to hear you from the main room. “Can you shut up? It’s like you want someone to hear!”

At that moment, something inside you breaks. You’re entirely fed up with her shit. As much as you love being an idol, you’re so over it destroying your personal life. And, with your head swimming with the effects of the alcohol, you can’t stand her indifference anymore.

“I’m so sick of you!” You burst out. You point a finger at Caitlyn, as if accusing her of something. Though, the unwanted tears brimming in your eyes make you look less intimidating and more heartbroken. “I can’t do this anymore! You say I’m your friend, but then you kiss me and practically abandon me! It’s like I made a mistake, and now I don’t get to exist in your world!”

“I did not abandon you!” Caitlyn argues, fury flashing in her eyes. “And we did make a mistake, we—“

“It wasn��t a mistake!” You cut her off, crossing your arms over your chest as if you’re shielding yourself. You can feel your cheeks get hotter as tears splash onto them. “It’s not fair! Why does being an idol mean I have to be sad all the time? I just want to be happy! I’ve been so miserable, and you didn’t even notice! All you care about is this, this job, and I’m so sick of giving up everything so that people still like us.”

Caitlyn staggers slightly, staring blankly at you. “What? What do you mean ‘everything?’”

“I mean you! I can’t even be with who I love because then people would be mad and there’s drama and—“ You pause, faltering as your foggy mind manages to register the word coming out of your mouth. Oh, shit.

It’s too late.

“Love?” Caitlyn breathes, so quietly you almost miss it. She’s motionless, as if your drunken confession had sucked all the breath out of her lungs.

You stumble back, your heels clicking on the hallway tile. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you repeat. Your voice trembles, almost breaking at the last word. “Maybe for you, but not for me. You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

Caitlyn’s left standing there, frozen. She can’t move her limbs to go after you, unable to even call out to stop you as you move down the hallway to the bathrooms. They’re public bathrooms: she can’t chase you even if she wanted to.

The sight of your tears is like a shot in the heart. It hurts her, it always has. But she’s worked tirelessly for years to get the idol career she’s always dreamed of, and now that she has it, it would be inconceivably stupid to give it up.

And yet…

Caitlyn can’t rid her mind of the image, the feel of your kiss that night. How you had held onto her like she was your only lifeline, and maybe, though she hadn’t considered it before, she was. Most of all, she remembers how she had wanted you. And oh, how she wants you still.

She’s almost angry at you for assuming she didn’t want it. She’s the one who had kissed you; the one who had cradled your face to angle your head better and selfishly indulge in you. The deeper part of her knows, though, as she stares down the hallway even after you’re long gone, that she can’t blame you. She is the reason for your pain — even after she had sworn to protect you when you became friends as trainees all those years ago.

How does she possibly reconcile something so broken?

Caitlyn doesn’t realize that her cheeks are soaked until she tastes the salt of her tears.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Nothing changes for a while.

Promotions come and go, photoshoots happen, and your popularity continues to escalate. It’s an almost mindless cycle, a routine that you feel resigned to. You don’t know where to go from here — you said all that you had to say. Everything is in Caitlyn’s hands now.

You try not to let that scare you.

It’s why, when your birthday comes around, you don’t realize until a few days before. You wake up to a call from your manager, informing you that the company has scheduled an Inkigayo performance to be recorded the night before. It’s a cover of a song in celebration of your birthday.

The news results in horrified gasps from Marin and Aeri when you tell them about it. They go on and on about how it’s your birthday, thus, you should be able to spend it however you like. But you all know that your company doesn’t have that same vision.

“At least I have my actual birthday free,” you shrug. You’re sprawled out on the couch like a cat lounging in the sun, your legs hanging off the armrest.

“Still,” Aeri argues from the kitchen as she drizzles oil over a hot pan. “You won’t get home until late, and then you’ll sleep the next day. I don’t understand why they couldn’t just have you record it earlier.”

“They should have checked with you before,” Marin nods in agreement, setting the table with four glasses. Caitlyn’s locked in her room, as she has been lately, but you assume she’ll join the three of you for dinner.

You just sigh, rolling off the couch to help Aeri with the food. “It’s fine unnies, really. I’ll just power through.”

To your surprise, the whole ordeal turns out to be fun. The song chosen is Lilac by IU, and you love the shades of light purple that adorn your stage outfit. The hosts wish you a happy birthday and bring out flowers after your performance, the audience cheering wildly as they celebrate along with you. It’s a lighthearted atmosphere, so different from the usual pressure of performing, and you can't help but bask in it.

It’s already midnight by the time you arrive back at the dorm. You turn the door handle, slipping off your shoes before you enter the dorm to find it dark. You quietly set your bag down, not wanting to wake your members.

However, when the lights flicker on, Aeri and Marin jump out from behind the couch. “Surprise!” They exclaim, beaming at you as they rush to hug you. “Happy Birthday!”

Marin leads you over to the counter as Aeri lights the candles of the cake you hadn't noticed in the dark. “Make a wish!” Marin squeezes your arm as you close your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling as you blow out the candles.

“You didn’t have to do this,” your eyes soften as you glance at the decorated cake that they had clearly baked themselves. “Thank you.”

“Anything for our maknae,” Aeri pulls out her phone to snap a photo of you and Marin as you look at the cake. “You deserve it.”

“Still, this is too sweet,” your gaze traces the designs of the frosting before they dart to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Caitlyn’s door is closed at the end of the hallway. It’s silent, as if she’s already asleep.

Marin follows your stare, tensing slightly. “She said she’d talk to you tomorrow,” she tries, though she doesn’t sound too convinced of her own reassurance.

You hate the way your heart sinks to your stomach. You should be used to this by now; why did you hope that things would be different today? “It’s fine,” your voice is tight, as if your words are carefully restrained. “I’m actually pretty tired from Inkigayo, so I think I’ll just go to bed too.”

“Are you sure,” Aeri prompts, her expression contorting into one of worry. “I can see if she’s awake—“

“No, it's fine,” you offer a weak smile. “Thank you for all of this. I’ll eat some cake tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course,” Marin grips the counter, as if she’s resisting going into Caitlyn’s room just to yell at her. It’s your birthday, how can she ignore it?

You bid your members a final goodnight as you step into your room, closing the door just a little too loudly. Sue you if you’re petty towards Caitlyn. If anything, you hope you woke her up.

You grab a makeup wipe from your desk, lazily wiping off the remnants of your stage makeup. You are, in truth, exhausted. Sleep is calling to you, and your bed seems like a personal heaven. You turn, about to flop on it and close your eyes, when you notice a tiny, black box on your pillow.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Instead of sprawling out, you sit on the edge of the bed and take the box in your hands. But when you remove the lid to glance at the contents, your eyes go wide.

Inside the box, a gold chain is carefully arranged so it doesn’t tangle. A small charm of a golden, crescent moon sits in the center of the chain. Small diamonds are embedded into the charm, glinting in the light. You trace a finger over the ridges of the diamonds, feeling the small weight. They’re real, clearly from some expensive, luxury brand.

You awe at the necklace for a few moments, examining every inch of the beautiful charm. Who gave this to you? The question runs through your mind. It has to be some kind of reference to Moonstruck, but Marin and Aeri would have given this to you when they surprised you, so who—?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you notice a folded piece of paper tucked into the box. When you unfold the note to read what’s written in it, you recognize the handwriting. It’s Caitlyn’s.

Your hands tremble, the paper shaking as you read her words.

My darling,

I want to preface by saying I’m sorry. You were right to call me out. I avoided the problem because I hoped that things would be okay on their own, but instead, I hurt you in ways I never wanted to. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but it’s my attempt at explaining things.

I freaked out when we kissed, not because I didn’t want it, but because I wanted it too much. What I felt for you was too strong, and it scared me. I wasn’t scared that someone would find out if we talked about it; I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing you again.

Ever since we were trainees, you’ve been my baby. Even though we argued at first, all I wanted to do was be near you. I’ve always been able to explain everything, but I couldn’t explain the way I was drawn to you. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I just wanted to protect you and care for you in ways that no one else could. So, when we kissed, I didn’t want to risk your career. I was a coward, and again, I’m sorry.

I can’t ask you to forgive me. But I miss you. You’re the closest person to me, and over time, I fell in love with you for the kind, talented, and beautiful woman you are. You’re the person who lights up my life, and I’ll be damned if I lose you to my stupidity. So, I’ll admit my faults and my pride if it means you’ll ever speak to me again.

By the time you read this, I’ll be on the rooftop. Please come, if you’ll find it in your heart to talk.

Happy Birthday, darling.

All my love, Caitlyn

Oh, shit.

Caitlyn loves you.

You had vowed to not forgive her easily, to make her work for your trust again. She had hurt you so much, and that’s not easy to forget. You’ve been so unhappy the past few months, and she had been the cause of it.

But.

Caitlyn is stubborn. She can admit when she’s wrong, but she has undeniable pride. Her career has been her first priority her entire life, even when you were trainees and she told you about her fights with her mother as a teenager. Even in the stories she recounted, she was rebellious, determined to make her own way in the world.

Her ambition takes over all her other desires. You know this. Yet, by admitting that she’s in love with you, she risks all of that.

You can’t forget about what happened. But maybe the two of you don’t have to fix what’s been broken; rather, maybe your relationship can be something entirely new. You almost curse yourself for still having hope, for still holding on to any thread of your wishes to be with Caitlyn.

...

You don’t pause to grab your coat.

You haven’t been on the rooftop since Caitlyn had brought you up here the night before your debut. It looks exactly as you remember it, unchanged in the past two years or so: pots scattered around and fairy lights strung above your head. It’s nice to know that something has stayed the same over time.

Caitlyn sits near the edge, gazing out at the lights of Ionia’s biggest city. The skyline is just as beautiful as the first time you came up here. Why don’t you come up here more often?

Maybe it’s a place you can only go to with Caitlyn.

She hears your footsteps, turning to acknowledge you. “Hey,” she speaks softly, blue eyes less icy than they have been in the past months. They seem more like water now: gentle and almost hesitant.

You sit beside her on the cold concrete, a small distance between you. A precaution. Your tone is just as soft. “Hi.”

Caitlyn clears her throat, shifting a little. “You should have your coat. You’ll catch a cold.”

Ah, of course. She’s still a leader at heart.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No, no,” Caitlyn hastily assures, turning her body so it faces yours instead of the skyline. “Look, I know I said it in the letter, but I’m really sorry. For everything. And I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I can’t let you think that I don’t love you just as much.”

You swallow down the emotion that bubbles up inside your throat. “You love me?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn emphasizes. She starts to reach for one of your hands but hesitates, letting her arm fall back to her side. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

“Why—?” You start, faltering before asking your burning question. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Caitlyn shrinks back, almost as if she’s ashamed of herself. “I didn’t know what to do,” she mumbles, glancing down at her nails before her eyes lock with yours again. “I wanted to make things right, and I thought I messed up too badly. But, in the end: I still want you, and I can’t pretend I don’t.”

“Caitlyn—“

“No,” she interrupts, fixing you with a firm gaze. “I want to be with you. You were right, okay? It’s awful not being able to love who I want because we’re idols. We can work around it. I’ll take care of everything. If—If you don’t want this, that’s fine, but—“

It’s your turn to cut her off. This time, with your lips on hers.

You never thought you’d get to kiss her again. And, this time, it’s worlds apart from the first time.

As soon as your lips meet Caitlyn’s, she deflates against you. Her hands come up to cradle your jaw as she had done before, but her mouth moves desperately against yours. Like you could disappear at any moment, like she might wake up to discover this was all a dream.

Her lips are as soft as you remember, and despite her desperation, she’s still just as caring. Her mouth slants against yours for better access as your eyes slip shut, and Caitlyn gently tugs you forward to be closer to you. When a cool breeze passes, her hands move to soothe over the goosebumps on your arms.

“You’re shivering,” she mumbles against her lips, pulling away for a brief moment. You stifle a whine of protest at the loss of contact, and you have to remind yourself that you can be as needy as you want now.

Caitlyn laughs softly as she notices your displeasure. “I told you. You should have worn a coat.”

You open your eyes just to glare at her. “Well someone told me to meet them here after dropping, like, three bombs on me in a letter.”

“Fair enough,” Caitlyn tugs you all the way forward this time until you’re fully in her arms, snuggled against her chest. “I missed my baby,” she mumbles, and an entirely different kind of shiver runs through your body.

“I missed you too,” you exhale, clinging to the warmth of her body. “So, are we, um, together?”

“Do you want to be?” Caitlyn runs a hand through your hair, manicured nails gently scratching at your scalp. “I mean, we’d have to keep it secret, of course, and only Marin and Aeri could know, but—“

“Unnie.” The honorific causes Caitlyn to stop in her tracks as you speak. “Yes, I want to be with you.”

“Oh,” Caitlyn flushes. She’s not an awkward person — always a perfectly, composed leader ready to face any camera. Yet, somehow, when she’s around you, all her composure seems to slip from her grasp. “Um, good. Okay. That’s, uh, that’s good.”

You just laugh, your shoulders shaking from where you’re curled up against her. “You’re so awkward.”

Caitlyn just huffs, unamused. “And you’re a tease,” she grumbles, though the way she rubs soothing circles into your back betrays her true feelings.

“Oh, I’m a tease, huh?”

“Yes.”

You are. In more ways than one, perhaps. But that’s for you to know, and her to find out later in the privacy of her bedroom.

Still, Caitlyn’s gaze turns soft once more as she glances back down at you. She'd always thought of you as her baby, but now you really are. You're hers. “Happy Birthday, darling.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

Present day.

“C’mon!” You slip your hand into Caitlyn’s, tugging her through the backstage area the second she’s done changing. As much as you enjoyed the concert in Piltover, as well as being back home with your girlfriend, you have schedules in Ionia tomorrow. Thus, a flight to catch right after your concert.

“The plane’s not going to leave without us,” Caitlyn complains as you practically drag her to the waiting car where Marin and Aeri are waiting. She sounds so petulant that anyone would think she is the maknae and you are the leader.

“Yeah, but if we don’t hurry up, your mother will find us."

That seems to do it. Caitlyn narrows her eyes at you, annoyed at the possibility of her mother forcing her to stay in Piltover. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

Both of you rush out to the car in your sweatpants, climbing into the empty backseat to sit beside each other. Marin and Aeri pay you no mind as they chatter up ahead, used to the girlfriend antics by now. Normally, the four of you would dress up for the paparazzi airport photos; but after your concert, you’re exhausted.

Fans had been overjoyed to see you and Caitlyn reunite several months ago. Their favorite ship had returned, and the “Cold War," as they had called it, was officially over. You and Caitlyn fell right back into being attached at the hip as if nothing had ever happened.

THEY'RE BACK!!! WE WON!!!

Thank gods the Cold War is over

Aww they love each other sm <3

Hiding in plain sight works really well, as you had discovered.

It’s no different this time. You walk through the airport right next to Caitlyn, your fingers interlaced. You wave to fans, accepting a few gifts with a smile and polite bow before falling into step next to Caitlyn again. It’s as if the two of you are magnets: always coming back together in the end.

“You okay?” Caitlyn murmurs, soothing her thumb across the back of your hand as you walk. She knows that airports can be overwhelming with all the fans and paparazzi gathered to catch a glimpse of their favorite idols, so it’s become a routine for her to check in.

“Yeah,” you glance up at her, a beaming smile adorning your features. “I’m okay.”

By the time you board the plane with Aeri and Marin behind you, you get comfortable in your usual seat next to Caitlyn. Also by routine, you lift the armrest between your seats, nestling against her side.

Caitlyn brushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes. “Ready to go back?”

“As long as you’re with me,” you mumble into her shoulder, hugging her arm to your chest.

“Oh, my darling,” Caitlyn adjusts herself to hold you more comfortably, pulling one of the blankets over the both of you. “It’s you and me until the end.”

And, you reflect as the plane moves to take off, you suppose she's right. No matter what happens, you hope to be at Caitlyn's side for the rest of time.

Always and forever.

Ahhhh it's finally up! I spent many hours writing this fic; it's like my baby.

Thank you to my friend and beta reader @honeywobbling, as well as creators like yameoto and valalice for their AMAZING idol!Caitlyn AUs. I love them sm and wanted to add my own take on idol!Caitlyn :)

Anddd thank you to all my lovelies!! You guys have given me so much love and support, and I'm very thankful for all of you. I hope you loved this, and please look forward to even more upcoming Caitlyn fics ♡

~Cherry🍒

#caitlyn kiramman #arcane #caitlyn is so fine

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