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sunoostripletriple · 2 months ago

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party 4 u, part of you knew

synopsis: you were an outcast, sunghoon was not. he was your neighbour, your childhood best friend, your first love. sunghoon didn't know that. on the last day of senior high, you decided to face your fears; go to the party and tell him how you feel. part of you knew that things might not end the way you want it to. still, you went.

"i shouldn't have gone to this party 4 u."

wc: 5.2k pairing: popular!sunghoon x fem!reader contains: angst (i tried), childhood best friends, secret crush, first love heartbreak, lack of communication, time apart, mentions of random characters, unexpected reunion, right person- wrong time, use of song lyrics, yn is kinda sad, etc. (let me know if i missed any) a/n: this story was heavily inspired by the "party 4 u" takes on tiktok. they've been flooding my fyp lately. these 2 tiktoks: [1] & [2] specifically. i strictly only listened to party 4 u - charlie xcx while making this.

this story is dedicated to my best babes, @sunoostripletriple <3 go give her a hug rn

i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i had fun writing it! i haven't written anything in a while, so idk if it gives what’s supposed to be gave? or however that saying goes. i do hope that it meets your expectations.

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated <3

might contain grammatical errors as english is not my first language. not proofread.

you don’t belong here.

not in this dress and definitely not in this moment. but you do it anyway– sliding on the dress you picked– slowly, shakily. you’ve never been to a party before, nor were you ever invited. unsure whether the outfit you picked is too formal, you throw on your brother’s oversized jacket. the mirror reflects someone unfamiliar. perhaps a different version of yourself.

someone prettier. someone braver.

someone even sunghoon might look at. your room is littered with your own clothes, from your bed to the floor. you’ve been mulling over skipping the party for the nth time, uncertain whether this is the right choice. you can just wipe off your makeup, change into your (sunghoon’s) hoodie, crawl into the bed, and bury yourself under your sheets. pretend that the party doesn’t exist, that it’s just a normal night of you staying in.

but your hair is already lightly curled, you’ve done your makeup twice, and you finally convinced your mom to let you borrow one of her necklace after begging for what felt like an hour. you can’t really turn back now.

you hear a knock on the door. it’s your brother, heeseung.

“are you still coming?” he asks.

“i’m almost done.” you lied.

“i’ll wait for you outside.”

it’s too late. you really have to go. for the last time, you stand in front of your vanity mirror, rehearsing what to say to him.

“hey sunghoon. you look good tonight. i mean you always do.” you stutter over your words

“i’ve been wanting to tell you something. i like you. i always have. i think i might be in love with you.”

no. you thought that it’s too cheesy. it’s too much.

over the years, you’ve created different versions of this moment. what words to use, the tone of your voice, when the right time is, and even the outcome. you thought about how his eyes turn into crescent moons, the way his vampire-like fangs show up whenever he genuinely laughs, if he would tell you he feels the same, how you would feel when he pulls you in for a hug while apologizing for not realizing his feelings, and yours sooner. that maybe, you were always the one.

he’s always been the only one.

but you know reality is never that kind. as soon as you meet his eyes, you fail to think of the proper words, let alone form a sentence that truly conveys your feelings.

before you could even change your mind, your phone buzzes. heeseung is getting impatient waiting for you. so you leave.

it’s the last day of senior high. you two are going to different colleges. this is your only shot. tonight is your only chance. if things go south, if he ends up looking at you like a stranger– someone he hadn't spend his whole childhood and adolescent years with– you’ll have months, maybe even years of time and distance to forget.

you tell yourself that you’re not doing this for him, convinced that you’re doing this for yourself. that once you get the words out, once you let go of everything that’s been burning inside you, you’ll be free.

but deep down, a part of you knew.

you’re going to this party for him, not for you.

the party is already in full swing when you arrived. the music is loud, the floor thumping as tangled bodies move in rhythm. not used to this kind of space, you stand still. you pretend to check an important notification from your phone, pretend to be waiting for someone. you’re stalling and you’re not sure what for. maybe for the annoying voice in your head to shut up and let you breathe. or to find the courage to walk up to sunghoon, finally telling him what you’ve been wanting to say.

this party felt foreign. people wear their confidence like perfume. compared to them, you’re a question mark left unanswered. your clothes felt too snug, shoes an inch too high, and your heart definitely too loud. you try to weave through the blur of entwined bodies, scanning the room for that one specific person.

then you see him.

sunghoon.

it didn’t take you long to find him. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a red cup in one hand, laughing at whatever jay and jake said. his v-neck shirt clung to his body, adorned with a sleek leather jacket. he drinks from the red cup, his side profile showing off his sharp jawline and his perfectly angled nose.

his smile is genuine. familiar. unlike the room you’re both in. the smile you used to see everyday, back when he was still yours— well, not yours— but back when he was still closer. back when he’d throw small rocks to your window, asking if you’d want to go out for ice cream. back when you lost your grandpa and he invited you for a movie night in his room. blanket forts and popcorn, all set up by him. back when he used to call you “peach” because you once told him peaches were your favourite fruit, and that you always smell like one. he never forgot.

back when you were each other’s only friend.

back when you still mattered.

sunghoon is always the center of attention. it’s like a scene carved out of a coming of age film. he’s being bathed in the golden glow of overhead lights, the music slowing down. he’s the main character, and you’re just a mere extra passing through. he tilts his head back from laughter, and you see people form a semi-circle around him, orbiting him like planets to a sun. he’s the sun and you’re a rock. you can’t look away even if you tried.

you want to walk up to him. say what you’ve been wanting to say.

anything.

something.

your hands tremble slightly at your sides. your fingers finding comfort at the hem of your dress, trying to anchor yourself.

as you take a step forward, she walks in.

eunji.

beautiful eunji with her perfect everything. her presence alone draws everyone’s attention. she makes a beeline to sunghoon like she’s done it over a thousand times. she knows she belongs by his side. you watch for sunghoon’s reaction, freezing for a second when he sees her. for a brief moment, something unreadable flashes in his eyes. is it nervousness? confusion? that the most popular girl in the school is walking towards him?

from where you stand, you see eunji wrap her arms around his neck. then she goes for it, leaning in to kiss him.

and to your demise, he lets her.

your breath hitches. your chest tightens. you stand still, feet glued to the ground, unable to move or look away.

the noise of the party fades into the background, as if the person in charge of your life suddenly turned the volume of the whole world down. everything that was once so loud– the music, the chatter– is now barely a whisper. your legs won’t move, you feel stuck, like a statue that can see and feel everything.

in that moment, a hollow feeling blooms in your chest. you feel utterly alone in a room full of people. although surrounded with noise and laughter, you felt so small, so invisible.

your throat burns, a big lump forming. your eyes start to sting. you try so hard to do everything to ground yourself, you find your nails digging into your palm. you can’t cry now. not here and definitely not in front of everyone.

tragically for you– as if the universe is playing a joke– your eyes blur. mascara coated lashes getting damp with the tears you so badly want to hold back. and then–

“yn!” heeseung’s voice cuts through all the noise. and for once, you were thankful for your brother.

you hurriedly wipe your tears away, quickly turning towards heeseung. you put on a false front, smiling at him as if nothing is wrong.

on the opposite side of the room, sunghoon hears your name, his head snaps in your direction. he turns around, moving away from eunji, eyes scanning the crowd like he’s searching for something– someone.

you.

but you’re gone. you walked away.

the ride home is silent. you insisted that heeseung stays, that you feel lightheaded from the unfamiliar setting. that it’s best you go home. he buys it.

you look out to the window, watching the blurry headlights and streetlights pass like ghosts. the driver wondering why the party ended so early, so soon. you offer a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. the driver understood and doesn’t say a word afterwards. you were thankful for that.

your phone buzzes. it was a message from him.

from sunghoon.

[sunghoon 🤍 10:29] hey, did you attend the party? i thought i saw you but i wasn’t sure.

you stare at the message, then his contact name. but you don’t answer. what will you even tell him? that you were there? that you watched him kiss someone?

that you’ve been in love with him since he hugged you under that blanket fort?

you open the reply box, then close it. but you open it again, typing out a “yeah, i was there.” but you erase it and you try again. “i was gonna say hi..” you delete it. trying to even out your breathing. trying to make the lump in your throat go away, the ache in you heart shrink, disappear. to pretend that it doesn’t matter. that it doesn’t hurt.

but it does.

in the end, you don’t reply. rather, you think to yourself. answering his message in your mind.

“party on, you party on.”

deleting his message, then his contact.

slowly deleting memories of him.

you convince your parents to let you move out to the city. telling them that it’s the best course of action. that it will help you get familiar with your surroundings once college rolls in.

you leave town a week after graduation.

no texts. no goodbyes.

sunghoon messages you a few more times that summer. random things; things you two used to talk about. harmless things like “did you hear about the new ice cream place that opened up?” or a “come join us at the old arcade!”

you don’t respond.

you read them all. every word, repeatedly. but you let them sit there like messages from an unknown number. a stranger. a part of you hoped he’d try harder. that he’d make the effort to find you. ask you what’s wrong and give you a hug that will heal the very scar he stabbed into your heart.

but he doesn’t. somehow that hurts more than the kiss did.

you stop making blanket forts. stop eating peaches, stop using peach scented body wash. you stop checking his social media. all of the photos you had with him– from elementary to senior high– deleted. except one. a photo taken the summer before senior year. it’s hidden behind a locked album. a picture taken by your own brother, heeseung. you and sunghoon sitting on a swing, backs facing against the screen, ice cream in one hand, the sky a mixed of orange and pink hues, your gaze towards him.

back then you were already wishing for something.

college is your clean slate. a mix of dorm rooms, group projects, lectures, expensive coffee, and new faces. you keep to yourself, studying every chance you get. you make friends, but not real ones. you don’t curl your hair. you store that necklace away. you don’t go to parties.

you turn yourself into a version that is easier to protect, invisible by choice.

time passes. slowly– painfully at first– you healed.

on your second year of college you meet someone. his name is kaito. he’s good to you. he has the kind of laugh that makes you feel fuzzy inside, hands that always know how to interlace with yours. he doesn’t make your heart race. but maybe, that’s not a bad thing. because hearts that race can easily break. a steady heart endures.

everyday he tells you he loves you. it’s the first thing that leaves his mouth in the morning and the last thing he utters before the day ends. you smile and say it back. and for a good while, you believe it.

when kaito proposes it’s soft, pure. simple. a walk on the beach after a fancy dinner. he gets on one knee holding out a small velvety box, a ring tucked inside. it’s dainty, it’s precious.

somehow you hesitate. just for a moment. except you don’t know why.

then you say yes.

not because you were certain. but because you want to be.

your parents are thrilled, his family adored you. everything is perfect. even you start to believe it. that love doesn’t have to be filled with sparks. that it didn’t have to be extraordinary.

for once, you believe that the hole in your heart is patched up. that sunghoon is just a distant memory you learn to live with.

but memories always have a way of returning.

it starts slow.

a scent, faint and familiar. the kind that smells like cold summer nights and someone’s sweater draped over your shoulders. you catch it on a stranger passing by the grocery aisles. your heart stutters, it knows. for a brief moment, you close your eyes. it’s not kaito. not the steady love you said yes to.

it’s someone else. sunghoon.

it’s been 7 years, you thought. he can’t be using the same cologne. but you know that scent anywhere. he wore it throughout junior and senior year after all. ever since heeseung got it for him for christmas.

you shake it off. it must be a coincidence.

except it happens again.

you’re at your local café, the one you’ve been frequenting to for group projects and late night cramming. you’re sitting down in a corner table, your laptop open and half a pastry forgotten on your plate. the song plays faintly through the speakers– she needs him by her’s– an indie track that used to be on all of your playlists. the one sunghoon would tease you about before admitting he kind of liked the band too.

your hands hover above the keys. you stare out the window, watching people pass by. maybe the song will finish quicker if you don’t pay attention to it. but it stays. long enough to remind you of the memories. long enough for the lyrics to cling to your skin like his sweater once did.

and then, kaito.

your sweet fiancé. kaito comes home with a new bottle of body wash and other travelling necessities for his upcoming business trip.

“i thought you’d like this one, babe.” he says, placing it onto the bathroom counter.

“it’s peach scented. you like fruity things, right?”

you do.

it’s the exact brand you used to have in your old childhood bathroom. the one sunghoon would always tease you about whenever he’s over to play with heeseung. saying “why do you smell like a juice box?”

you stopped buying it after the party.

but the world likes to play a joke on you. the same body wash sits innocently on your counter. like time is just a concept, that it’s not real. like years haven’t passed. everything you tried so hard to erase is coming back. uninvited.

then a letter addressed to you comes.

a small pink envelope in your mailbox. you almost miss it, wedged between bills and packages. inside is a wedding invitation. heeseung, your brother. he’s getting married.

the card is beautiful– soft lavender coloured, adorned with bold calligraphy, a picture of heeseung and his fiancé, information and the dress code.

lee heeseung and im seo-ah invites you to celebrate their wedding saturday, june 19th, 5:00pm at serenity garden

you stare at it, contemplating. there’s no rsvp option. you have to go.

kaito can’t make it. he calls the night before, apologizing every chance he gets. apparently there’s an emergency in japan. something about the budget and the investors. he promises to make it up to you when he returns. you tell him it’s fine. that you can manage.

you arrive at the venue. you wear a simple, ankle length dress with layers, coloured in different shades of blue, and a small scarf that came along with it. the dress is shaped like a flower, quite fitting for the theme of the wedding. you look like a woman who’s moved on.

but inside, you’re still the same quiet girl, heart pacing.

the sky is bright and clear. a gentle breeze flutters through the air, carrying the faint scent of lilac and hydrangeas. the sun casts golden streaks over the flowers and the white line-covered chairs.

everything feels like a scene from a movie– too perfect to be real. soft jazz plays in the background, fairy lights hang between tree branches. it’s romantic. beautiful in a way that makes your chest ache.

because it reminds you of your younger self.

the one who curled her hair in her childhood bedroom. the one that carefully brushed eyeshadow on her lids. the one who felt like she didn’t belong. you’re watching someone else’s life unfold– someone who belongs into this moment, this life, better than you do.

and then you see him.

standing tall by the entrance of the venue in a perfectly tailored tuxedo. his face breaks into the biggest grin when he spots you.

“yn!” he calls, kindly weaving through the guests to get to you.

your heart beats rapidly.

he sweeps you into a tight hug. a hug so warm, so real, so grounding.

“can’t believe you, out of all people, are married. you look amazing!” you say, pulling back from your brother’s hug.

he shrugs. “you clean up okay yourself.”

then his wife appears– seo-ah. she exudes elegant grace, the kind of woman who makes you understand why your brother fell in love so hard.

seo-ah greets you with a sweet smile. then a hug. you can tell she’s extremely nervous. “i’ve heard so many things about you!”

“and i’ve heard so much about you!” you reply. “all good things, i swear.”

later, during the reception, your name is called for a speech.

your stomach flips. you weren’t prepared. you didn’t plan much. you didn’t think you’d be asked. but it only makes sense since you’re the sister of the groom.

every eye in the room is on you. something that never happened before. your legs feel like they will give out the second you make your way to the small stage. but you do it anyway. you hold the mic with both hands.

“hi.” you begin, your voice shaking. “i’m heeseung’s younger sister. surprising right?” a few chuckles ripple through the crowd.

“i basically spent most of my life watching him be the loudest person in every room. the first person to finish a whole box of ramen in a week, and definitely the worse person to share a bathroom with.”

more laughter breaks the tension. you exhale and continue.

“but i can assure you that he’s the most loyal person i’ve ever known. and i’m not saying that because he’s my brother. i remember when my first pet hamster died, he stayed up with me all night. he even bought me the candies i liked with the very little allowance he had. when i failed my physics exam, he made sure to tutor me until i understood the gravity of the situation.”

you catch heeseung looking a little flustered and you smiled at him.

“when he met seo-ah, he changed. not in a bad way, but in a real way. he became someone who listened more, someone who laughed a little softer, but loved harder. louder. and it’s all because of you, seo-ah. you truly bring out the best in him. i will never trade you for anyone else, you’re my sister now. thank you for taking him off my back. and good luck dealing with that.” another wave of laughter erruupts.

you pause.

“here’s to new beginnings. to love. the kind that grows with you. and the kind that feels like coming home.”

applause and glasses clinking fills the room. you feel like you might float away from sheer relief. that attention is no longer directed at you, but to the newlyweds. you don’t notice the eyes that were once watching you.

but what you didn’t see is how a pair of eyes never looked away. a pair of eyes that never left your frame ever since you stepped up to speak.

his fingers curl loosely around a champagne glass. his chest rising, then falling. as if he just learned how to breathe. except you don’t see it. the way his expression softens with every word that leaves your mouth. a sense of pride in his gaze whenever you made the crowd laugh. a smile threatening to tug at his lips. you don’t see any of it.

not yet.

descending down the steps, you finally start to breathe evenly. that’s when it happens–

your eyes meet.

everything stops.

the music, the laughter. the chatter, the clinking of glass. everything goes silent.

it feels like you’re seventeen again. standing in a crowded room, but somehow alone. every memory you once buried, bursts to the surface. seven years of silence. of forgetting, pretending. all coming out.

he’s wearing a charcoal grey suit that fits like it was made for him. he looks older, more refined. he’s no longer the boy you used to love, but a man. however, his eyes stayed the same. soft yet unwavering.

your eyes start to sting, a lump forming in your throat. you want to run. you want to leave. you have to. you need to.

but he’s faster. “wait–yn–”

his hand gently wraps around your wrist. it’s not forceful, but enough to stop you from leaving. enough to say please.

you stop, not turning around. you can’t.

“i didn’t think you’d come,” he says behind you, voice soft, yet unsure. the way that makes your throat tighten. “i was hoping you did. but i didn’t know.”

then he sees it. the dainty ring around your finger. but he doesn’t say anything. instead, he lets go and asks “how have you been?”

you don’t answer right away. closing your eyes, trying to stabilize your breathing. you turn around, forcing yourself to look at him with a smile. it’s way harder than you thought it would be.

“i’ve been good.” you look down at your hand. “i’m engaged.” showing him the ring kaito gave you.

he swallows, hard. “congratulations! are you happy?” now he’s the one forcing a smile.

“i am. it’s easy, it’s stable.”

“i missed you, you know.” he says quietly, voice cracking. “for years, i didn’t know how to reach you. i texted you, but i assumed you didn’t want to be bothered.”

you don’t answer him. and as if he understood, he nods.

there’s so much silence. it’s heavy, full of everything you never said. eventually, you say goodbye to him. then you go over to heeseung and seo-ah, giving them the gift and telling them that the wedding was beautiful. you hug them and promised to invite them for lunch. you walk out, the same way you did 7 years ago.

but that night, you find yourself in your childhood bedroom, back where everything started. your phone buzzes. it’s an unknown number. but part of you know who it is.

[unknown 11:10 pm] i got your number from heeseung. can we meet up by the lake tomorrow. just to talk and catch up. there’s something need to tell you.

the lake hadn’t changed.

maybe the tress were taller. the path was overgrown, used. the rope of the swing had frayed from the years and weather. but the lake itself– the still, glassy surface reflecting the colors of the sky– look exactly the same. the same as the last time you were here. unmoving, serene, quietly watching as if it had been waiting for you all long.

your heart is stuttering in your chest, and there he is.

sunghoon sitting on the swing, hands in his hoodie pocket, just the way he used to be. his silhouette is outlined by the pink and orange hue of the sunsent. and for a second, it’s like time never passed. like you’re still seventeen, hiding away from the rest of the world, with him. talking about your dreams, too big and too small to name.

he turns around when he hears you, tension in his jaw, his shoulders– but his eyes remain the same. soft. the kind reserved only in your memories. only for you.

“you came,” he says, voice quiet.

you nod, words unable to come out. the lump in your throat is already forming, threatening to knock the air out of your lungs. you didn’t think coming back here would be this hard. or maybe you did. you just hope you were stronger now.

he gestures towards the swing. “sit with me?”

for a second, you hesitate. but you walk closer, the grass moving beneath your feet. your fingers graze the rope, then the wood plank of the swing. you remember the summers you spent here, pushing each other back and forth as high as you can. laughter echoing between the trees. it was your place with him. a secret you both kept from the rest of the world. a place where everything felt a bit easier.

sunghoon sits on the other end of the swing. for a few minutes, the only thing you hear are the sound of the cicadas, the wind, and the distant ripple of the water. the quiet feels loud. your heart that was once steady is racing. you wonder if the man beside you can hear it. and then he speaks–

“i didn’t know you left a week after graduation,” he says. voice shaky just enough to reveal his nervousness.

your head turns toward him. slow and hesitant. but you don’t say anything. you’ve always been the quiet one between the two of you.

“i mean… i found out eventually, as soon as college started. but not before that. not when it mattered, when i could’ve done something.”

you look down at your hands. the same hands that once held pieces of him. notes he’d pass to you in class, fries you used to fight over. the same ones that used to hold his own whenever you feel scared to walk back home. especially after getting scolded by your parents. the same hands that held your small secret. the hands that held your feelings for him.

“i asked heeseung where you were,” he continues. “but he wouldn’t tell me. he said you didn’t feel like going out. i should’ve realized sooner that you didn’t want to be found. by me.”

it was true. you begged heeseung not to say anything. told him that it was better that way. that it was easier than explaining that his own best friend– your own best friend– broke your heart.

sunghoon chuckles, but it’s bitter, empty. “i didn’t understand. i kept texting you. i kept hoping that maybe, you’ll show up with a smile on your face. telling me that you were sick and was bedridden for days. when i found out that you went to the graduation party, i thought i knew how to get you out of your room. so i threw so many parties. i told myself that it was for fun, for the guys, to blow off steam after exams. but it wasn’t.”

your vision starts to blur. that god awful lump in your throat is back. he looks at you, eyes shining in the low light. honest, unflinching.

“i threw those parties for you.”

the words hit you with the force of a tidal wave. you can’t breathe. your chest caves around the weight of your heavy heart. you finally heard the truth you never knew you needed. the idea that he had missed you too. that he looked for you in ways only he knew how. in places filled with noise.

you cover your mouth with your hand, trying to steady your breathing. your sobs, yourself. but it’s too late. the tears come fast. they’re hot, heavy, unstoppable. the dam you spent 7 years building, crumbles without mercy.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble. words cracking like glass. “i’m so sorry, hoon.” and that was enough for him.

he moves. arms wrapping around you, pulling you off the swing and into his arms. he holds you like you’re fragile glass, like he knows how long you’ve been holding everything in. he always does. and that healed you. the scar you once had in your heart, fading away. he’s been waiting to hold you for years. 7 whole years.

you cry. until tears won’t come out anymore.

you cry for the years you lost. for something that could have been. you cry for the girl you used to be– the one who was so in love, yet so afraid. the girl who was so sure that she will never be enough. you cry because the love you had for him never died. just buried beneath time and distance. you cry because you hate that he’s here, when it’s too late.

sunghoon doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t stop you from crying. instead, he wraps his arms around you, lets you bury your face into his shoulders. he lets you soak his hoodie with your tears. it feels like forgiveness.

his voice comes out low, almost trembling. “i looked for you in every girl i met. i tried to move on. i really did. but no one can replace you. no one knew how to make the world quiet down with one single glance.”

you want to say something. tell him that you loved him first. that you never stopped loving him. but the words refuse to come out. the ache in your heart is too big, the wound too raw. so you stay quiet.

and he understands, he always does.

for the first time in 7 years of being apart, silence feels like healing.

you stay like that, head resting on his shoulder, gazing into the horizon. until the stars begin to peek through the sky. neither of you move. neither of you dares to let go.

because maybe, just maybe, this isn’t the end. but a new beginning.

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated <3

a/n: i wont lie, i cried while writing some of the parts. especially when that part of the song coincidentally aligns with the “sad” bits. that’s why it took me a bit to finish it. an empath lives a hard life… also because i was out for work and a date for with my bf <3

do not fret! there will be a second part to this <3 see u soon!

tags: @sunoostripletriple @yoizhrs @sievenderz @bookmarkstanley

line divider by: @strangergraphics

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sunoostripletriple · 3 months ago

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the start k.s (smau)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

synopsis - > Y/N, on a whim, decides to prank text a random number. Little does she know, that fate has other plans. Instead of a stranger, her message lands in the inbox of Kim Sunoo, her favorite idol. What follows a whirlwind of unexpected conversations, shared interests, and perhaps the beginning of something beyond her wildest dreams. As their connections deepen, y/n finds herself drawn into Sunoo's world in ways she never imagined, navigating the complexities of fame, friendship, and maybe even love.

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23. Unknown

A few weeks have passed. Y/N has gotten even busier as her exams are slowly creeping up. With most of her coworkers being University/College students, y/n gets even busier due to being short-staffed. As for Jaemin– the only grad student– he offered to get more shifts to help lessen the burden on the poor girl’s shoulder.

Today, being a Monday, really seems like the world is out to get the poor girl to rip her hair out. Being short-staffed, Y/N has no choice but to alternate closing shifts with Jaemin. With most of the other employees’ shifts ending an hour before closing the cafe it gets pretty stressful for only one person to handle.

4pm

Y/N looks at the digital clock next to her table.

“Guess I'll have to head on over to the cafe now. Jaemin must be waiting for me.” She says as she starts gathering her stuff.

After walking for what felt like eternity, y/n finally reaches the cafe; only to be greeted by a long line of girls waiting outside. Y/n squeezes through the entrance along with tiny ‘sorries’ as the girls give her weird stares for walking past them. She doesn't give much thought about it, but as soon as she walks through the doors, she is hit by the most aromatic coffee beans that are being freshly brewed right at the counter.

Y/n walks over to the counter as she greets Jaemin with a smile.

“Hey, Jaem!” She greets him.

“Hey. Just finished your class?” He greets back as he pours the freshly brewed coffee on a small cup.

“Nah, I came from the library to study for a bit. Then I went home to do some more work and change of course.” the girl takes a breath before releasing a very long sigh.

Jaemin nods.

“How's work by the way?” Y/n asks, grabbing the apron under the cash register.

“It’s a bit more hectic than before. The line won't stop flowing, it feels like we're inside Niagara Falls right now!” He exaggerates with a sigh.

“Okay, I'll take over now.” Y/n says as she starts looking at some of the awaiting orders on the machine.

“Oh, I have a small favour just for you before you go. Can you cover the strawberries with cling wrap? Oh! And the whipped cream too, please and thank you.” You tell the boy as you point your pouty lips over to the fridge.

“Yes, madam.” Jaemin says playfully.

Jaemin walks over to the kitchen as he does what you have told him to do.

Without you noticing, Jaemin sneakily takes a picture of you focusing on your own little task causing him to smile.

“I hope she'll listen and stop overworking herself.” Jaemin mumbles to himself.

The boy then puts his phone in his pockets as he slowly walks over back to y/n.

“I'm done for the day, big boss. I'm taking my leave now.” He takes his hand out as he prepares for their very weird but entertaining handshake.

“Alrighty then. You stay safe on your way home, it's quite windy outside.” Y/n says as they finish off their weird handshake.

“I'll be fine but you should stay safe later after closing up. If anything happens I'm always free so call me, alright?” The older boy says sternly.

“Sure thing grandpa. Now go. The customers are waiting for these delicious-”

“Nutz.” Jaemin cuts her off

“HA.HA. very funny but no. It's my very yummy, and very delicious strawberry shortcake.” Y/n says.

“Anyways, I'll go now or else I'll end up staying till closing here.” Jaemin walks over to the door as he waves goodbye.

“Hey, y/n I can take over at the front to make the drinks and take the orders. You can stay in the kitchen to make the cakes if you like.” One of her fellow employees says to reassure the girl as they push her to the kitchen counter at the back.

“Oh.. okay then. Just let me know if it gets busy again outside, Danielle.”

“Will do.” The cute girl says.

Time skip [9pm]

It's closing hour and y/n is left alone to tend to the cafe. Danielle, her employee, had already left to go home even after offering to stay until later. Unfortunately, to no avail, she was forced to go home on time.

“Bye, y/n see you on Wednesday again.” The girls wave goodbye to each other, as one walks out the door and the other cleans the table.

‘What a busy day for a Monday.’ You think to yourself.

It's almost 9:30pm as you finish cleaning the dishes. You start reminding the remaining customers that the cafe will be closing soon.

You briefly check your phone, only to be bombarded by notifications. A certain message catches your eyes.

“Unknown?” You read the contact name.

You ignore the name and go straight to text your friend Kacey.

taglist: {open sesame}

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