I just wanted to make this post to say that I’m going to be taking a long break from uploading fics. Life has just been getting busier lately and to be so honest, I’ve slowly been losing the motivation to write as much as I used to.
I’m okay! Nothing bad has happened to warrant this. I think I’ve just hit that point where writing consistently is becoming harder and harder to balance with everything else going on in life right now.
I do still plan on uploading the fics that have already been requested previously. So if you’ve messaged me before (you know who you are), do not worry! I fully intend on writing and uploading them.
I am going to open my asks/requests again. You’re more than welcome to send ideas, questions, thoughts, random messages etc because I do genuinely love reading them and interacting with you all :)
Just please understand that there’s a chance that I might not end up writing every request I receive. It is NOT because I don’t like the ideas, but simply because I’m struggling with motivation/finding the time and I don’t want to promise things I can’t fully commit to.
That being said, thank you for all the love and support you’ve given my stories. It genuinely means more than you probably realise <3
It didn’t start with a confession. It didn’t start with a moment where everything suddenly made sense. If anything, it started so quietly that neither of you could ever really point to the exact second it became something.
Back in Dream Academy, everything was loud. Not just physically—though it was that too, constant music, constant movement, constant evaluation—but emotionally.
Everyone was trying. Trying to be seen, trying to be better, trying to survive something that didn’t slow down for anyone.
You were focused. You had to be.
There wasn’t space to think too deeply about anything outside of the next performance, the next ranking, the next chance to prove you deserved to be there.
And yet, somewhere in between all of that, there was Lara. She was very easy to notice. Not in a loud, attention-seeking way. But in the way that she carried herself.
She was open, warm and effortlessly affectionate with the people she cared about. She laughed easily, touched easily, leaned into people without hesitation. Like closeness was second nature to her.
You weren’t like that. Not then at least.
You liked people. You loved deeply, even—but you weren’t someone who reached out first. You weren’t someone who needed physical closeness to feel connected.
It just hadn’t been your thing. Until you started noticing it. Not in general, but with her.
The first time it registered, you didn’t even react. You were sitting side by side during a break, both half listening to someone talking across the room, when her shoulder bumped into yours.
Light. Accidental, maybe.
Except she didn’t move away.
You remember thinking about it. Not 'why is she doing this'—but 'why don’t you mind?'
Then it kept happening.
A hand on your arm when she laughed, her leaning against you when she was tired, her head resting briefly on your shoulder like it was the most natural place in the world.
And every time, you let her. Not because you didn’t notice. But because you liked it. More than you expected to, more than you were used to.
Lara didn’t question it, she didn’t overthink it, she was just Lara. Touchy, affectionate and drawn to you in a way that felt instinctive.
It wasn’t until much later—closer to debut, when everything started becoming real—that it shifted into something neither of you could ignore.
It was late one night, everyone was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that made everything softer, quieter.
You were sitting on the floor, back against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. Thinking about everything, thinking about the what ifs.
Lara sat down close next to you, closer than necessary.
'You’re thinking too much.' She said gently.
You huffed a quiet laugh. 'Is it that obvious?'
'Mhm.'
Her hand found yours, just like that, with no hesitation. You looked down at it, then at her, she didn’t look away.
'You don’t have to do everything alone.' She added, softer now.
Something in your chest shifted. Not dramatically, not all at once. But enough.
And for the first time, you squeezed her hand first. And that was it.
No big moment, no dramatic realisation, just a quiet understanding that settled between you and it had stayed.
From there, it didn’t rush. It grew. Through debut, through schedules, through long days and even longer nights.
Somewhere along the way, holding hands became normal. Leaning into each other became expected, sharing space stopped being something you noticed and it started being something you missed when it wasn’t there.
And you—you changed, without even realising it. You started reaching for her. Not just letting her come to you, but wanting to be close. Wanting to hold her, wanting to feel her there.
Because Lara didn’t just like affection. She lived in it. And somehow, she made you want to live there too.
The first of many moments where she reached for you was during an already chaotic livestream.
'Wait—are we live?' Daniela asked, leaning way too close to the camera.
'We’ve been live.' Sophia groaned, trying to push her back.
'No we haven’t—have we?'
'Yes, we have!'
There's laughter, overlapping voices, someone knocking into something off-camera. Just another normal Katseye livestream.
You were on the floor, right in front of the couch. Close enough that your back almost brushed against it if you leaned too far.
Lara was sitting above you. Literally. Relaxed, one leg bent slightly, the other stretched out just enough that it rested against your arm.
It wasn’t planned. None of this ever was.
You were focused on the screen in front of you, reading through comments, saying them out loud occasionally when something caught your attention.
'Someone said—uh—' you squinted slightly, 'they think we’re too loud.'
'WHO said that?' Manon immediately shot back.
'Block them.' Megan added.
You smiled faintly, shaking your head a little.
Behind you—Lara shifted. At first, it was just her leg pressing a little more firmly against your arm, a subtle adjustment.
Then—her fingers. They slipped into your hair so casually it took you a second to even process it. You paused mid-scroll just for a second.
Her touch was light and absentminded. Like she wasn’t even fully aware she was doing it. Her fingers combed gently through your hair, pushing a few strands back, then returning to do it again.
Slow, repetitive and extremely comforting.
You didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge it out loud, but your shoulders relaxed slightly.
'Read more comments!' Sophia nudged.
'Oh—yeah,' you blinked, refocusing. 'Someone said—'
Behind you, Lara hummed softly at something Daniela said. Still playing with your hair, still completely unbothered.
And then, because she’s Lara, she did something completely unnecessary.
Her leg lifted.
You felt it before you fully registered it. The shift of weight, the movement.
And then suddenly—her leg was draped over your shoulder.
You froze.
It wasn’t heavy, not uncomfortable, just kind of... there. Draped casually so it fell across your chest, her ankle resting somewhere near your opposite side. Like this was a completely normal thing to do.
You glanced up—just barely—trying to catch her expression.
She didn’t even look at you. She was still engaged in conversation, still acting like nothing had changed.
You huffed out the smallest breath of disbelief. But you didn’t move it.
Instead, you adjusted. You pulled your knees up slightly, shifting your position so her leg rested more comfortably against you.
Your arms came up without thinking and wrapped loosely around her leg, holding it against your chest like it belonged there, like she belonged there.
Behind you, you felt the faintest shift. Like she noticed, like she liked it.
'Wait—' Sophia’s voice cut through.
You blinked, looking up.
'…Why are you hugging Lara’s leg?' She asked, squinting at you.
The room went quiet for half a second.
You opened your mouth to answer but Lara beat you to it.
'She's cold.' She said immediately.
You turned your head slightly. '…What?'
Before you could question it further, her leg tightened slightly around your shoulder, pulling you back just a little closer to the couch.
Subtle, but intentional.
'She needs warmth.' Lara continued, like this made perfect sense.
You stared at her now, like actually stared.
She finally looked down at you, completely serious. And then—just barely—she smiled.
You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. 'Yeah,' you muttered, leaning into her leg a little more, 'That’s exactly it.'
Around you, the chaos picked back up. Arguments, laughter, someone bringing up chat again.
But you stayed like that, her fingers eventually returned to your hair, her leg still draped over you, your arms still loosely holding it in place.
Natural, effortless. But yours.
And if anyone thought it was weird, neither of you cared enough to stop.
---
Another time was on set for one of your music videos. It was beautiful. Cold, but beautiful. Not the kind of cold that hit you all at once, it crept in slowly.
Through thin stage outfits, through damp air, through the long pauses between takes where your body cooled down faster than it could recover.
'Resetting lights!' Someone called.
'Five minutes!' Another voice followed.
Five minutes. Which really meant stand around and try not to freeze while nothing happens.
You exhaled slowly, rubbing your hands together, but it didn’t do much. Your fingers still felt stiff, your shoulders still tense.
'Come here.'
You didn’t even have to look to know it was Lara. A blanket appeared around your shoulders before you could respond, warm and soft and immediate.
Then, her arms. They wrapped around you from behind first, pulling you back into her before shifting so you were facing her instead.
Close. Like, properly close.
'God, you’re freezing.' She murmured, her hands rubbing gently over your arms from under the blanket.
'I’m fine.' You mumbled automatically.
'You’re not.' She replied, just as quickly.
You didn’t argue, you didn’t have the energy to.
Instead, you leaned in so that your head found its place on her shoulder like it had done a hundred times before, your body settling into hers without hesitation.
She adjusted the blanket, pulling it tighter around both of you until there was barely any space between your bodies at all.
Her chin rested lightly against the top of your head. Her arms wrapped fully around you now, hands tucked securely against your back. Warm and safe.
You let your eyes fall shut. The noise of the set dulled almost instantly. Voices became background hum, movement became distant as everything softened.
You didn’t realise how tired you were until that moment. How much your body had been holding onto tension. Your arms slid around her waist beneath the blanket, holding onto her just as tightly as she held you.
Not loosely, not casually, but like you were anchoring yourself there.
She felt it. Of course she did. Her grip tightened slightly in response. A silent acknowledgement.
'Look at you two.' Megan’s voice cut in, light and teasing.
You barely reacted. Just a small hum, your face still tucked into Lara’s shoulder.
'Don’t.' Lara said immediately—but there was no real bite to it.
You felt the shift as she tried to wedge herself into the blanket space. More movement, more presence.
Lara huffed softly but didn’t push her away completely. Not yet.
Megan managed to squeeze in at your side, half under the blanket, half not, her shoulder pressing lightly against yours.
'See? There’s room.' She said, satisfied.
You shifted slightly, but not away. Just enough to adjust. Still half-asleep, still warm, still comfortable.
'Hey—' Megan paused suddenly.
You didn’t open your eyes.
'…I literally got so close to your face just then.' She said, amused.
You didn’t process it, didn’t register it because your breathing had already slowed. Your body fully relaxed against Lara.
But Lara... Lara noticed. Her eyes flicked down immediately. Megan was close, too close. Leaning in slightly, curious, teasing. Testing boundaries the way she always did.
'Okay, nope. Girl, bye.' Lara said.
It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t sharp, but it was immediate.
Her arms shifted as one hand came up gently, guiding your head just slightly deeper into her shoulder—while the other lifted the edge of the blanket.
And then she pulled it over you. Not fully, not in a way that would look strange. But enough that your face was now hidden beneath it. Shielded.
'Hey!' Megan protested lightly. 'I wasn’t gonna do anything!'
'You were thinking about it.' Lara replied flatly.
'I was just saying!'
'No.'
From the outside, it looked playful. Just another moment, another bit of chaos between members.
But under the blanket, everything softened again. The world disappeared. You didn’t even realise what had happened, didn’t know Megan had been close, didn’t notice the shift.
All you felt was Lara. Her arms tightening around you again, pulling you closer as her hand moved slowly up your back. Gentle and reassuring.
And then her lips. Soft, careful, pressing lightly against the top of your head. Once. Then again. Not rushed, not showy, just quiet affection.
Her way of grounding you, warming you, keeping you there.
You shifted slightly in response, your grip around her waist tightening just a little more beneath the blanket.
She smiled against your hair. 'Stay here.' She murmured softly, too quiet for anyone else to hear.
You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to, your body had already gone heavy against hers. Half-asleep, completely relaxed.
Outside, Megan was still complaining. Something about unfair blanket distribution. Someone else laughed.
But Lara didn’t pay attention anymore. Her focus stayed on you, her arms wrapped securely around you, her chin resting against your head, her lips pressing one more soft kiss into your hair.
Keeping you warm like that was the only thing that mattered.
---
The next time Lara properly reached for you came a couple days later. There were plenty of moments in between, but this is where her clinginess truly comes through.
The apartment felt lived in. Not messy—although it was still messy—just full.
Shoes by the door that no one had bothered to line up properly. Jackets thrown over the backs of chairs, phones charging in random corners, the low hum of overlapping conversations filling the space like background music.
It was comfortable. Easy.
You stood in the kitchen, lining up the last of the iced coffees on the counter.
'Alright—barista of the year,' Megan called from the couch, 'we’re waiting.'
'I’m coming.' You replied, nudging the final straw into place.
One by one, you handed them out.
Daniela took hers with a grateful smile, Sophia immediately inspecting hers like she was judging presentation, Yoonchae thanking you softly.
Manon gave you a small nod, already mid-conversation with someone else. And Lara didn’t take hers right away. She waited as she was watching you.
You noticed, of course. You always did.
'You gonna take yours or are you just gonna stare at me?' You asked, raising an eyebrow slightly as you held the glass out.
She smiled, slow and unapologetic. 'Both.' She said, finally taking it.
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your own drink.
The couch was full, so you settled beside Lara—not right beside her. About a foot of space between you. Just enough. You adjusted carefully as you sat, making sure your drink didn’t tilt.
For a moment everything was normal. People talking, ice clinking in cups, someone laughing too loudly at something that wasn’t even that funny.
You took a sip, settling back slightly, your attention shifting toward Manon as she started explaining something across the room.
And then—
'…Why are you all the way over there?'
You didn’t even need to look. Lara’s voice was soft, but genuinely offended.
You turned your head slightly.
'I’m not 'all the way over there,'' you said, gesturing vaguely between you. 'There’s literally, like, half a foot of space.'
'That’s far.' She replied immediately.
You stared at her. '…It’s not.'
'It is,' she insisted, 'I can’t even reach you properly.'
You took another sip of your drink, unfazed, 'You’re being dramatic.'
'I can’t kiss you if you’re all the way on Mars, babe.'
That made you pause just for a second.
'…Mars?' You repeated, trying not to laugh.
She nodded, completely serious. 'Different planet. Whole different atmosphere. Not ideal for affection.'
You shook your head, looking away again. 'You’re unbelievable.'
'I’m suffering.' She added quietly.
You deliberately ignored her as you turned your attention fully to Manon now.
'Wait—what were you saying about the waist beads?' You asked, leaning forward slightly with genuine curiosity.
Manon nodded, adjusting slightly where she sat.
'Yeah—it’s cultural,' she explained. 'They can represent different things depending on where you’re from. For me, it’s more about identity and—'
You were fully listening, interested. But beside you Lara had shifted. Louder this time, more noticeable.
You didn’t look.
'…I’m being ignored.' She murmured.
'You’re fine,' you replied absentmindedly, still focused on Manon. 'Keep going.'
Manon smiled faintly and continued. 'It can also be about femininity, confidence—sometimes even milestones. Like growth, or—'
'Wow,' Lara muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, 'I guess I don’t exist anymore.'
You exhaled slowly through your nose, still not looking at her.
'I’m literally right here.' You said.
'Are you?' She shot back.
Before you could respond, her hand reached out. Not grabbing your arm, not pulling harshly. Just taking your wrist and gently tugging.
'Lara—' You started, but your balance shifted slightly, your drink tilting just enough to make you pause.
'Wait—hold on—'
'Put it down.' She said simply.
You hesitated. Then sighed. '…Fine.'
You leaned forward, setting your iced coffee carefully on the table. And the second your hands were free, she pulled you. Not aggressively, but decisively.
Your back met her chest as she guided you into place, your body settling between her legs on the couch, your shoulders naturally aligning with hers. Familiar and easy.
Her arms wrapped around you immediately. One draped across your upper chest, the other sliding more securely around your waist.
You exhaled softly, your body relaxing without even thinking about it.
'Much better.' She murmured, her voice right by your ear now.
You leaned back into her slightly, still trying to focus.
'Sorry—continue.' You said to Manon, like nothing had happened.
Manon raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.
'…As I was saying,' she continued, 'they can also be used to track body changes. Some people use them as a way to stay connected to their body—'
You nodded, genuinely engaged. 'That’s actually really interesting. So it’s not just—'
Behind you, Lara shifted again. One of her hands slid slightly higher, resting more comfortably, more securely on your breast.
You paused mid-sentence, slowly looking down at her hand before turning your head just enough to look at her. A clear, silent are you being for real right now? in your expression.
Lara didn’t even look back at you. Instead, she glanced toward Manon.
'Continue.' She said casually, like nothing had happened.
Manon stared at her for a beat. Then shook her head slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. '…Right.'
Lara moved to rest her chin lightly against your shoulder now, her presence fully wrapped around you.
You tried to not acknowledge it any further. But your body melted just a little more into hers.
'—and so depending on the colour, they can have different meanings too.' Manon finished.
You nodded slowly. 'That’s really beautiful, actually,' you said softly. 'I never realised how much meaning there was behind them.'
'Yeah,' Manon smiled. 'It’s something I’ve always been connected to.'
You glanced down briefly, thoughtful.
Behind you, Lara pressed a soft, absentminded kiss against the side of your head.
You didn’t stop talking, didn’t break the conversation, but your lips curved slightly. Small and barely noticeable. Because as much as she was clingy—as much as she always needed to be touching you in rather questionable places, holding you, pulling you closer—you loved it.
You really, really loved it.
And honestly? You probably would’ve ended up in her arms anyway. She just didn’t like waiting for that part.
---
Another time was during rehearsals, of course, since that’s where you all seemed to spend most of your time. The music cut out abruptly. Not because the choreo ended, but because everyone physically couldn’t keep going.
'Five minutes.' Someone called from by the speakers.
No one argued.
The room fell into that heavy kind of silence that only came after hours of nonstop movement.
Breathing filled the space as shoes squeaked faintly against the floor. The low hum of exhaustion settling into everyone’s bodies.
You sat down slowly, wincing just slightly as you bent your knee. It wasn’t bad. Not bad enough to stop. Just enough to be annoying, persistent.
Lara noticed immediately.
'Sit properly.' She said, already crouching down in front of you.
'I am sitting properly.' You muttered, adjusting your leg slightly.
'No, you’re not.' She replied, completely unfazed.
Before you could argue further, she reached for the knee brace resting beside your bag.
You sighed, but didn’t stop her.
Her hands were gentle, careful as she guided your leg forward slightly, her touch firm enough to be steady but soft enough not to aggravate anything.
'Does this hurt?' She asked, adjusting the brace into place.
'A little.' You admitted.
Her brows knit together just slightly. Not dramatic, but enough to show she cared more than she was letting on.
'Tell me if it gets worse.' She said quietly.
'I will.'
You watched her for a second, on the way she focused, on the way her fingers worked carefully around your knee, tightening the brace just enough. She always got like this when it came to you. Attentive.
'Okay,' she murmured, pressing the last strap into place. 'Try that.'
You shifted your leg slightly.
'It's better, thanks.' You said softly.
She glanced up at you and smiled just a little. Then reached for your water bottle.
You blinked. 'Hey... that’s mine.'
'I know.'
She took a sip anyway.
You stared at her. 'But... but you have your own.'
'I don’t like mine.'
'…It’s the same brand.'
'Yours tastes better.'
You let out a quiet huff of disbelief, shaking your head. 'That makes no sense.'
She took another sip. 'Still better.'
Across the room, Daniela froze mid-stretch as she tuned into the end of your conversation.
'… I’m sorry—what?' She said, slowly turning to look at the two of you.
You frowned slightly. 'What?'
Daniela’s face shifted into something between horror and confusion. '…I’m not even going to ask.'
You blinked again. 'Ask what?'
Before she could respond—Manon, who had clearly understood the situation properly, suddenly let out a laugh.
Not a small one. A full, uncontrollable, losing it kind of laugh.
'OH—' she tried to speak, but couldn’t, covering her mouth as she leaned forward slightly. 'No, no, no—Dani—'
'What?' Daniela demanded, looking between all of you.
Manon shook her head, still laughing. 'You heard that wrong.'
'I definitely didn’t.'
'You did,' Manon insisted, barely holding it together now. 'You absolutely did.'
The rest of the room started looking over. Confused but curious.
'What’s happening?' Megan asked.
'Nothing.' You said quickly.
'Something.' Daniela shot back.
Sophia, who had been listening from where she stood nearby, narrowed her eyes slightly.
'Wait—what did I miss?' She asked, stepping closer. 'What are we talking about?'
Manon wheezed again at that. Because that was exactly the problem.
'It’s just—' Manon tried, failing again almost immediately. 'She said—'
Lara, meanwhile, was completely unbothered, still sitting beside you while holding your bottle like she had committed no crime whatsoever.
Sophia looked between all of you now. 'What?' She asks, hoping someone would just get to the point.
Daniela pointed immediately. 'She said hers tastes better.'
'What tastes better?!' Sophia asked instantly, her voice rising slightly as she stepped closer. 'Like—what are we even talking about right now?'
Manon was still visibly trying not to laugh, which was making it worse.
'Yes,' Manon said quickly, already losing it again. 'Lara said Y/N's water tastes better, even though it’s literally the same—'
Sophia stared at Manon, then at Daniela, then at you and then finally at Lara. She exhaled through her nose, already done.
Manon immediately lifted her hands in defence.
'No, no—wait, I can explain,' she said quickly, still barely holding back laughter. 'It’s just that Daniela heard it completely out of context, right? And I understood what they meant, so it was funny because—because—'
She paused, realising she was making it worse.
'Okay, no,' she admitted, shaking her head, a smile still fighting its way through. 'You kind of just had to be there.'
'You people are unbelievable.' Sophia muttered. Then she turned around and walked away.
Manon lost it completely after that. Daniela looked like she was questioning her life choices.
You blinked slowly. '…What just happened?'
Lara tilted her head slightly, still completely calm, still holding your bottle like nothing in the universe had changed. 'I don't know, I wasn’t really listening… I was thinking about you.'
You blinked. '…What?'
She shrugged faintly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 'You look so cute when you're confused, I got distracted.'
You let out a quiet breath through your nose as you shake your head a little, still trying to process the absolute chaos unfolding around you.
'Can I have that back now?' You asked, reaching for it.
She handed it over reluctantly. You took a sip.
'… literally tastes the same.'
She shrugged. 'Not to me.'
You rolled your eyes—but your lips curved slightly.
Later, after another run-through, after more hours, after your body felt like it had reached its limit, you ended up lying on the floor.
Flat on your back, arms slightly spread out, completely done in.
'Don’t move.' You muttered to no one in particular.
'I wasn’t planning on it.' Megan replied from somewhere nearby.
A few seconds passed. Then Lara dropped down beside you. She shifted immediately, turning onto her side so she could face you and then leaned in.
Her arms wrapped around you without hesitation, pulling you into her.
You let out a soft breath as your body adjusted, turning slightly so you could fit more comfortably against her. Her head tucked into the space just below your chin.
Your arm came up automatically, resting across her back.
'You’re warm.' She murmured.
'You’re clingy.' You replied.
'Mhm.'
There was no denial as she held you a little tighter.
The room was quieter now as everyone is recovering, catching their breath.
You stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Then asked, 'What do you want for dinner?'
She hummed softly but didn’t answer right away.
'I don’t know.' She admitted after a second.
You tilted your head slightly, thinking. 'I could get you that thing you like,' you said. 'From the place near the apartment.'
She shifted slightly. 'What thing?'
You glanced down at her. 'Your favourite. The... what is it? Rasam.'
There was a pause, a very noticeable one.
Then she lifted her head slightly, looking at you properly now. '…You’d get that for me?' She asked, softer than before.
You shrugged slightly. 'Yeah. You like it.'
That was it. Something in her expression shifted instantly. Softened.
Before you could even process it, she leaned in and kissed you. Quick but gentle and full of something real.
You blinked, slightly caught off guard. 'What was that for?' You asked quietly.
She smiled that same soft, almost shy smile she only really gave you. 'Nothing.' She said.
Then, after a second, softer, '…Everything.'
She tucked herself back against you, arms wrapping around you again like she never intended to let go.
And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.
---
Another example of Lara's clinginess was when you were on tour. The bus hummed softly beneath you. Not loud, not disruptive, just constant.
It was the kind of background noise you stopped noticing after a while—the low engine, the occasional shift in gears, the faint rattle of something in a cupboard that no one had properly secured.
Outside, it was dark. Inside, it was dim.
Most of the lights were off, save for a few small lamps near the bunks and the faint glow from phone screens scattered throughout the bus.
You were in your bunk. Curled slightly on your side, one arm tucked under your pillow, the other holding your phone just above your face, mindlessly scrolling.
Your body was tired. Not just sleepy tired, but deep, bone-level exhaustion that came from weeks of performing, travelling, repeating the same cycle over and over again.
But your brain was wide awake.
You scrolled through video after video, barely processing any of them. A dance, a meme, someone cooking something you’d never attempt.
You exhaled softly, shifting slightly to get more comfortable when the curtain to your bunk moved.
You barely reacted.
Lara.
You turned your head just slightly as she stuck her head in, already assessing where she's going to lie.
'There you are.' She says sleepily, like she’d been looking for you for hours instead of two seconds.
You smiled faintly. 'I’ve been here the whole time.'
'Mhm.' She hummed, not really listening.
She didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even ask. She just crawled in properly and immediately curled up on top of you. Her head settling against your chest, her arm draping across your stomach, one leg hooked loosely over yours.
Full body contact with no space left to breathe.
You let out a quiet breath, instinctively shifting your phone out of the way so it didn’t hit her.
'You have your own bunk, y'know.' You murmured.
'Don’t want it.'
Of course she didn’t.
You adjusted slightly, moving your body just enough to give her more space. Which, realistically meant you were now closer to the edge. Like… dangerously close.
But you didn’t push her away. You didn’t even consider it. Instead, your free hand came up, resting lightly against her back.
She sighed, soft and content. And within seconds she was asleep. Just like that.
You stared at the ceiling for a moment, then down at her. Her breathing had already evened out, her grip on you just loose enough to be relaxed—but still there. Still holding you.
'Unbelievable.' You whispered, though there was no real complaint behind it.
You shifted slightly again, trying to get comfortable without disturbing her.
The bus hit a small bump. Nothing major. Just enough to make everything shake slightly.
You stilled, hoping it hadn't woken Lara up. It was then that you realised you were really close to the edge now.
You glanced down, then back up.
'…Oh that's a long way down.' You muttered.
There was another bump. Your body shifted just a little. Lara didn’t move, didn’t wake up. Still completely dead asleep on top of you. You tightened your grip on her instinctively.
'Okay—this is fine—'
The bus hit yet another bump. A proper bump this time. And suddenly you were falling. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t slow. You just dropped. A very real, very solid thud echoed through the bus.
'OW—'
You landed on your side, tangled slightly in the blanket that had fallen with you, your phone clattering somewhere beside you.
There was a moment of silence.
Then a quiet, 'Y/N… Where’d you go?'
You blinked up at the bunk where Lara was. Soon her head peered over the edge as she blinked sleepily at you.
'…You left.' She said, voice thick with sleep.
'I fell.' You corrected, wincing slightly as you pushed yourself up.
'Oh.'
She stared at you, almost like she was processing. Then suddenl she moved. Fast. Well—fast for someone who had been asleep two seconds ago.
She scrambled out of the bunk, nearly tripping over the blanket in the process.
'Are you okay?' She asked, crouching down in front of you.
'I’m fine.' You said, though your pride was slightly injured.
'You fell.' She repeated, like this was the most serious thing that had ever happened.
'Yes, Lara, I’m aware.'
She reached out, brushing her hands lightly over your arms like she was checking for damage. 'You could’ve gotten hurt.'
'I didn’t.'
'You might’ve.'
You looked at her, really looked at her. Her hair was a mess, her eyes half-lidded with sleep, her voice still soft and groggy. And yet, she was fully focused on you.
You softened slightly. 'I’m okay.' You repeated, gentler this time.
She stared at you for another second. Then nodded, 'Okay.'
A second went by before she stood up. 'Come here.'
You blinked. 'What?'
'We're sleeping in my bunk,' she said, already moving, 'It’s lower.'
You hesitated. '…You’re kicking me out of mine?'
'I’m upgrading you.' She corrected.
You huffed a small laugh, but followed her anyway.
Her bunk was lower, safer, less… fall risk.
She crawled in first this time, adjusting the blanket before looking back at you expectantly. 'Come on.'
You shook your head slightly, but climbed in. The space was tighter, but that didn’t matter. Because the second you were in, she pulled you down with her.
She manoeuvred you so your back pressed against the mattress as she pressed her body into your side, her arm wrapping around you like nothing had happened, like this was always the plan.
'There,' she murmured, already settling in again. 'that's better.'
You let out a quiet breath. 'Yeah.' You admitted.
Her head found your shoulder this time, her leg hooking loosely over yours again. But now, you weren’t on the edge. There was no risk.
You adjusted slightly, your arm coming up around her. And within seconds, she was asleep again.
You stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then closed your eyes.
'…I literally fell out of a bunk.' You muttered quietly.
'Mhm.' She hummed, already half gone again.
And just like that, everything settled.
What neither of you realised, was that from across the bus, Sophia had seen everything, phone in hand, camera rolling.
She zoomed in slightly on the two of you now tucked into the lower bunk, tangled together like nothing had happened.
She whispered, barely containing her laughter, 'Not her falling out and still ending up cuddling…'
The video cut there.
And you?
You’d have no idea it existed. At least, not yet.
---
You were an affectionate person by nature, but not usually around other people. Most of your softer moments were saved for when it was just you and Lara—where affection came easier, quieter, and without thought.
Which was exactly why the girls noticed the moment you walked straight towards her.
You’d been awake for hours. But not by choice.
It started early, too early. That uncomfortable, restless kind of waking where your body just refuses to stay asleep.
At first, you tried to ignore it. Shifted positions, pulled the blanket tighter, turned your pillow over to the cooler side.
Of course it didn’t work. Because the cramps had already settled in. Low, heavy and persistent.
You let out a slow breath, curling slightly onto your side, one hand pressing instinctively against your lower stomach.
'Seriously…' You mumbled into your pillow.
You reached for the pain meds on your bedside table, took them and waited for them to kick in.
Nothing. Not even a dent.
'Great.' You muttered.
And as if that wasn’t enough, the headache lingered. The migraine itself had passed—that horrible blur, the sensitivity, the can’t even open your eyes properly part—but what it left behind?
A dull, pounding ache that sat right behind your eyes. Every movement just reminded you it was there.
You stared at the ceiling for a moment. Hungry, tired, sore and just very uncomfortable in your own body.
And you couldn’t even get comfortable. Every position felt wrong. Too much pressure, not enough support, something always felt off.
You groaned softly, dragging a hand down your face. 'Okay… okay.' You murmured to yourself.
You needed something, you just didn’t know what. But then, you did.
You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing slightly as your body protested the movement. One hand instinctively pressed against your lower back this time.
'Lara.' You mumbled under your breath.
It wasn’t a decision you thought through, not really. It was just instinct. You shuffled out of your room, moving slower than usual, your steps slightly heavier.
Voices carried from the living room, normal, calm.
'…I’m just saying, communication matters more than anything.' Sophia was saying.
You stepped into the doorway. The scene was soft, familiar.
Sophia and Lara were on the couch, turned slightly toward each other, deep in conversation. Manon sat nearby, scrolling through her phone, occasionally chiming into Daniela’s separate conversation.
Everything felt normal, except you. You let out a small groan as you stepped further in.
Four heads turned immediately.
'Hey—' Manon’s expression shifted first, concern settling in, 'You okay?'
You paused and considered answering properly. But the words didn’t really come.
'Mm… no.' You mumbled instead, voice low and rough, barely more than a grumble.
You kept walking. Straight past them, straight to Lara. She barely had time to react because you didn’t stop.
You just climbed onto her lap with no hesitation, no warning. One second she was mid-conversation and the next, you were there. Settling yourself between her legs, turning slightly so your side pressed into her, your head dropping forward against her shoulder.
'Hi.' You mumbled, already curling into her.
There was a long moment of silence before Lara’s entire body shifted, softened, opened. Her arms came around you instantly like it was the most natural response in the world.
'Hey,' she said, voice dropping immediately, all her attention snapping to you. 'What’s wrong?'
Sophia blinked. '…Okay—'
But Lara didn’t even hear her. Her hands moved gently over your arms, your back, grounding, checking, there.
You let out a quiet breath as she pulled you closer, your body relaxing almost immediately into hers.
'Cramps,' you muttered against her shoulder. 'And my head… and I didn’t sleep properly…'
She frowned slightly, her hand coming up to rest lightly against the side of your head. 'Hey…' She murmured, softer now.
Her chin rested gently against the top of your head as her grip tightened just slightly.
'Did you take anything?' She asked.
'Mhm. Didn’t work.'
She hummed quietly, her thumb starting slow, absentminded circles against your arm. 'You’re warm.' She noted softly.
'I feel like I’m dying.' You mumbled.
That got a small breath of a laugh out of her. Not because it was funny, but because of the way you said it.
'I’ve got you.' She said, pressing a soft kiss into your hair.
You didn’t respond, you just sank further into her.
Behind you, Sophia was still sitting there, processing. '…I was literally mid-sentence.' She said, slightly offended.
Daniela looked over, then back at her. '…Yeah,' she said slowly, 'but… look.'
Sophia followed her gaze. You—curled into Lara, completely unbothered by anyone else in the room. Lara—wrapped around you like nothing else existed.
'…Oh.' Sophia said.
Manon glanced up from her phone, immediately understanding.
Daniela leaned slightly toward Sophia, lowering her voice just enough— 'Yeah, this doesn’t usually happen.'
Sophia frowned slightly. 'What do you mean?'
'She goes to her,' Daniela clarified quietly, nodding toward you, 'but not like… this.'
Not like this, not in the middle of a room, not without caring who was watching, not without hesitation.
Manon smiled faintly, watching the two of you. 'It’s rare,' she added. 'She usually waits. Or pulls her aside.'
Sophia’s expression softened. 'Oh.'
Across from them—
Lara adjusted the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it around you without even thinking. Her hand moved back to your arm, still tracing slow patterns, still grounding.
'You want me to make you something?' She asked quietly.
You shook your head slightly. 'Just stay, please.'
She stilled for a second at that. Not because it was unusual that you wanted her, but because of how you said it.
Soft, tired and needy in a way you didn’t usually show so openly.
She didn’t hesitate. 'Okay.' She murmured immediately, tightening her hold around you just a little.
Her hand moved slowly up your arm, then back down again, a steady, calming motion. She was quiet for a moment, thinking.
Then, softly asked, 'Hey… do you want me to get you something? Like—actual help, not just me.' She added gently.
You huffed faintly. 'You are actual help.'
She smiled a little at that, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. 'I know, but like—' she hesitated, then continued, 'my mom sent me some stuff. Natural things for cramps and headaches.'
You shifted slightly, just enough to look up at her. 'Like what?'
'It’s Indian medication,' she explained quietly. 'Herbal tablets… and there’s this oil too. It’s meant to help with pain—like, really help. She swears by it.'
You blinked slowly, processing. 'Does it work?' You asked.
'It does for me,' she said simply. 'And she uses it all the time.'
You considered it. You didn’t usually try new things like that. But right now? You’d try anything.
'…Okay.' You murmured.
She nodded once. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah,' you said softly, then added, tightening your hold on her slightly, 'But you can’t move.'
She let out a small breath of a laugh. 'Of course.'
She didn’t even try to get up. Instead, she looked past you, 'Sophia.'
Sophia blinked. '…Why am I involved?'
'My bag,' Lara said, completely serious, 'The big one. In my room.'
Sophia stared at her. 'The big one?'
'Mhm.'
'The one that weighs, like, ten kilos for no reason?'
'It has things in it.' Lara defended mildly.
Daniela snorted. 'It has everything in it.'
Manon was already smiling.
Sophia sighed dramatically, pushing herself up from the couch. 'I was having a conversation.' She muttered.
'You’ll survive.' Lara replied calmly.
'You owe me.' Sophia added, pointing at her as she walked off.
'Yeah, yeah.'
You shifted slightly against Lara as the room settled again. Your eyes had already drifted half-shut. 'Told you not to carry that everywhere.' You mumbled.
'And yet,' she said softly, brushing her fingers through your hair, 'it’s helping right now.'
You hummed faintly. Couldn’t argue with that.
A few moments later, there was a thud.
Sophia dropped the bag down beside the couch. 'There,' she said. 'If I’ve dislocated something, I expect compensation.'
'Thank you.' Lara replied, already reaching for it. She unzipped it with one hand, the other still securely around you.
'Of course you can do this one-handed.' Daniela muttered.
'Practice.' Lara said simply.
You felt her shift slightly as she searched through the bag, her arm tightening around you briefly to keep you close.
'Okay,' she murmured, pulling something out, 'Here.'
You opened your eyes just enough to see a small container. Simple, nothing intimidating.
'They’re herbal tablets,' she explained softly. 'Mostly things like ginger, turmeric, and ajwain—it’s supposed to help with cramps and inflammation.'
You nodded slowly.
'And this,' she added, reaching back into the bag and pulling out a small bottle, 'is oil. You rub it on your lower stomach or back. It helps relax everything.'
You blinked at it. '…You carry all this around?'
'Mhm.'
'Of course you do.' You muttered.
She smiled faintly. 'Sit up just a little.' She said gently.
You groaned quietly—but did it anyway, shifting just enough for her to guide you.
She handed you the tablets first, grabbing her own water. 'Take these.' She said softly.
You did, without question. Then she poured a small amount of oil into her hand.
Before you could really react, she shifted slightly—guiding you with a gentle hand at your side. 'Turn this way.' She said softly.
You followed without thinking, your body already heavy and compliant, turning so you were facing her fully now—your back angled toward the rest of the room.
Shielded, it was subtle but intentional.
Her knee nudged slightly between yours to steady you, one arm still wrapped securely around your back to keep you close as she adjusted you into a more comfortable position.
Then her other hand moved. Careful and respectful as she adjusted the waistband of your joggers slightly—just enough to give her access, nothing more.
It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t careless, just quiet consideration.
From where the others sat, it looked like nothing more than you curled into her—her arms around you, holding you close.
But in that small space between you, she took care of you properly. Her hand settled against your lower stomach, warm now from the oil.
You exhaled softly at the contact, your forehead dipping forward to rest lightly against her shoulder.
Her touch was slow, gentle with small circular motions, consistent and grounding, her focus entirely on easing the tension she knew was sitting there.
'Okay?' She asked quietly, her voice close to your ear.
You nodded faintly against her. '…Yeah.'
The warmth spread gradually this time. Not overwhelming, just easing.
Her arm around your back tightened slightly, pulling you closer into her chest as she continued, keeping you tucked in, hidden from view without making it obvious. Like this moment was just yours.
Your hands curled lightly into the fabric of her hoodie, holding onto her without thinking.
She noticed. Of course she did.
And her movements softened even more. Slower, more deliberate. She didn’t press hard. Just slow, circular motions as the warmth spread gradually. It wasn't instant relief—but it was something, something softer.
You let out a quiet breath, your body relaxing almost immediately under her touch.
'Better?' She asked softly.
'…Yeah.' You admitted.
Her hand moved slowly, rhythm steady, consistent. Her other arm stayed wrapped around you, holding you in place, keeping you close.
'You’re not allowed to go anywhere.' You mumbled.
'I’m not going anywhere.' She replied. And she meant it.
Behind you, Sophia sat back down, watching the whole thing with a softer expression now.
'…Okay.' She said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
Daniela glanced at her. 'Yeah.'
Manon just smiled. Because this wasn’t something they saw often. Not you like this, not so openly, not so softly needing.
But Lara? Lara looked like this was exactly where she was meant to be. Holding you, taking care of you. Not letting go.
And you, you weren’t letting her go either.
Lara stayed like that for a while. One arm wrapped securely around you, the other resting lightly where she’d been helping, her touch now still—gentle, grounding, present.
She looked down at you, really looked. Your face was tucked into her chest, your breathing slower now, your body finally starting to loosen where it had been tense all morning.
Your grip on her hoodie hadn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it had tightened just slightly.
She smiled as her thumb brushed lightly over your arm, absentminded, careful not to disturb you.
For a moment, everything else faded out again. Just like it always did.
But then she glanced up and froze. Because they were all watching. Sophia, Manon and Daniela.
Not staring in a weird way. Not teasing. Just smiling, knowing.
Lara blinked once, then immediately looked away. '…Don’t.' She muttered under her breath, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks.
Daniela grinned. 'We didn’t say anything.'
'You didn’t have to.' Lara mumbled.
Manon just shook her head softly, still smiling to herself.
Sophia leaned back slightly, arms crossing as she watched the two of you for another second before speaking again. '…Anyway,' she said, picking the conversation back up, though her tone had softened, 'as I was saying—communication.'
Lara let out a quiet breath, trying to compose herself a little. But her arm around you didn’t move, didn’t loosen.
'Yeah.' She said, nodding slightly.
Sophia tilted her head. 'Like actually saying what you need. Not expecting the other person to just… guess.'
Lara hummed quietly. Then almost instinctively, she glanced down at you again. Still tucked into her, still holding onto her, still there.
A small smile returned before she could stop it. 'I mean…' She said, voice softer now. She gestured lightly toward you with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you.
'…this is a pretty good example.'
You shifted slightly at that, but didn’t lift your head. Still half-buried into her.
Sophia followed her gaze. '…Yeah.' She admitted.
Lara’s fingers brushed lightly over your arm again. Absentmindedly and affectionately.
'She always comes to me,' she added quietly. 'If something’s wrong. Or if she’s overwhelmed. Or—' she paused briefly, her expression softening again, '—even if she just needs… this.'
Her arm tightened around you just slightly.
You didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. But your hand shifted against her hoodie. A small, unconscious squeeze.
Lara felt it immediately and her smile deepened just a fraction.
'And you respond.' Sophia pointed out.
'Of course I do.' Lara replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. There was no hesitation in it, no second thought. Just certainty.
Sophia watched her for a moment then nodded. '…Yeah. That’s kind of the whole point.'
A quiet settled over the room again. Not awkward, just warm.
Lara adjusted the blanket around you slightly, making sure you were still comfortable, still covered, still close.
Her chin rested lightly against the top of your head again. And this time, she didn’t bother hiding the smile.
Summary: A visit turns into a move, and a city full of strangers slowly becomes home because of her. Between a new job, new routines, and late-night talks that make everything feel a little less overwhelming, you start to realise that love might be the one thing that makes LA feel like it was always meant to be yours.
A/N: Part 3 is here !! that concludes this little series :) I recommend reading parts one and two before this... or maybe just part 2 so that this one makes sense as it takes place immediately after it
Megan stayed quiet for a little while after that. Not awkward quiet, just thinking quiet.
Her thumbs rubbed slowly against your waist while the apartment hummed softly around both of you as the AC ran gently overhead.
Then finally, she let out, '…You know I’d want you here, right?'
You smiled faintly, 'Ah kinda pick up on dat.'
'I mean seriously.' Her voice softened again. 'Like—not just visiting.'
Your chest tightened a little as you looked down at her carefully. 'Meg…'
'I know,' she said quickly. 'I know it’s not simple.'
And somehow that made it worse. Because if she’d been pushy about it, maybe it’d be easier to laugh off.
But she wasn’t. She was being careful and she was being real.
You exhaled slowly and moved to sit next to her on the couch, leaning back against the cushions a little. 'Trinidad still home, yuh know.'
Megan nodded immediately. 'I know.'
'Ah still have tings dere.'
'Your family.'
'Yeah.'
'Your friends.'
'Mhm.'
'Your job.'
You groaned softly at that one. 'Unfortunately.'
That finally got a laugh out of her.
But your expression stayed thoughtful. 'Moving cross de world not small, Megs.'
'I know.'
'An’ LA expensive bad.'
'You wouldn’t be alone though.'
You glanced at her.
Megan sat up a little straighter now, eyes serious behind her glasses. 'You could stay with me.'
You immediately snorted. 'Meg—'
'I’m serious.'
'You say dat now till ah start leavin’ skateboards all over de floor.'
'I already trip over your stuff anyway.'
'That was one time.'
'That tiny skateboard headphone thing attacked my ankle yesterday.'
You burst out laughing instantly. 'It literally smaller dan meh hand!'
'And somehow still dangerous.'
You shook your head while Megan continued staring at you with that same impossible sincerity.
'You wouldn’t need your own place right away,' she continued more softly. 'Not until you figured everything out.'
Your chest warmed a little despite yourself. 'Still need money though.'
'We’d figure it out.'
'Visa stuff too probably.'
'Okay, paperwork would suck...' She admitted.
'Exactly.'
'But we’d still figure it out.'
You looked at her quietly for a second. 'We?'
'Yes, we.'
The certainty in her voice hit embarrassingly hard. Megan shifted closer automatically, knees bumping against yours on the couch cushions.
'And honestly?' She continued, getting more animated now, 'you basically live here already.'
'Ah been here less than a week.'
'And somehow your stuff is everywhere.'
'That because you keep stealing it.'
'You left your headphones on my couch for eight hours the other day.'
'Cause ah was using dem!'
'And your beanie’s are spread all over my room.'
'Cause yuh wear it.'
'And your skateboard lives by my door now.'
You pointed at her dramatically. 'Dat one valid.'
'It completes the apartment aesthetic.'
You wheezed laughing while Megan grinned proudly. Then suddenly her expression lit up, 'Oh my god.'
That tone immediately made you suspicious. '…Wha’?'
'If you moved in permanently,' she started excitedly, 'we could fully decorate together.'
You groaned instantly, 'Here she go.'
'No listen—'
'Megan—'
'Spider-Man corner.'
You buried your face in your hands.
'Spider-Man posters.'
'Meg—'
'Spider-Man mugs.'
'Please—'
'Spider-Man blankets.'
'Yuh making dis place look like a five year old bedroom.'
She gasped loudly, 'A cool five year old's bedroom.'
You laughed helplessly while she grabbed your arm dramatically.
'We could get one of those little neon signs!'
'Oh lord.'
'And shelves for your boards!'
'Dat one actually sound nice.'
'I KNOW.' She looked way too proud of herself. 'And your hoodies would finally stop mysteriously disappearing because they’d already be here.'
'You mean because yuh does thief dem.'
'Borrow. Emotionally.'
You snorted loudly.
Then her expression softened again almost immediately, 'You’d really think about it though?'
The sudden vulnerability in her voice made your chest ache. You looked down at your hands quietly. '…Yeah.'
Megan went still.
You swallowed once before continuing carefully. 'Ah not saying tomorrow.'
'I know.'
'An’ ah not saying definitely yes either.'
Her face fell just slightly before she caught it. You noticed anyway.
'But,' you added softly, 'it not a no.'
That made something hopeful flicker across her face instantly.
You sighed quietly. 'Sometimes ah does think about it.'
'Really?'
'Mhm.'
You glanced around the apartment slowly. At the couch you’d fallen asleep on, your skateboard leaning near the TV, one of your hoodies folded over the chair beside Megan’s, pieces of yourself already scattered everywhere.
Then back at her.
'Especially when yuh look at meh like dat.'
Megan melted immediately, 'How am I looking at you?'
'Like yuh already plan de rest ah yuh life.'
'…Maybe I did.'
Your face went hot instantly, 'Megan!'
'What?!' She laughed, 'I’m just saying!'
You groaned and shoved her lightly while she grinned harder.
Then quieter, she softly mutters, 'I just really love having you here.'
The softness of it settled somewhere deep in your chest. Because the scary part was you loved being here too.
---
The grocery store was freezing. Like unnecessarily freezing. You walked through the automatic doors and immediately folded your arms tight across your chest.
'Why every store in America feel like ah refrigerator?' You complained under your breath.
Megan laughed softly beside you while grabbing a shopping cart, 'You’ll survive.'
'Ah actively freezing.'
'You’re from the Caribbean.'
'Exactly.'
She snorted quietly and bumped your shoulder with hers before automatically reaching for your hand again like she’d been doing it her whole life.
And honestly? You were starting to notice that about her. The automatic things.
The way her fingers searched for yours without thinking, the way she gravitated toward your side in every room, the way she’d touch your back lightly while passing behind you, the constant contact. Always.
You tried not to think too hard about how much you liked it.
The two of you wandered aisle by aisle together while you hunted down ingredients for the doubles; chickpeas, flour, turmeric, cumin, curry powder, scotch bonnet peppers and tamarind sauce.
Megan pushed the cart beside you while you searched shelves with the seriousness of somebody conducting scientific research.
'Geera,' you muttered to yourself. 'Need geera.'
'What even is geera?'
'It important.'
'That explained nothing.'
'Correct.'
You reached up onto the shelf for a spice jar, hoodie lifting slightly at your waist. Megan’s eyes immediately drifted toward you, then stayed there.
You noticed instantly. '…Wha’?'
'Nothing.'
'That face mean sometin’.'
She looked entirely unashamed. 'You’re really pretty.'
Your face warmed immediately. 'Meg.'
'I’m serious.'
'Mhm.'
'You’re shopping for doubles ingredients and somehow still look cool doing it.'
You snorted softly while tossing another spice into the cart, 'Yuh standards low.'
'My standards are actually extremely high,' she corrected, 'You’re just unfairly cute.'
Before you could answer, movement nearby caught your attention. A girl maybe a few aisles over had gone visibly still staring at Megan. Then whispered something frantically to her friend.
You noticed Megan notice it too. The tiny shift in her shoulders, the way she instinctively adjusted her cap lower.
Your chest softened a little. Without even thinking about it, you nudged the cart gently away from her.
'Ah go grab de peppers.'
Megan looked at you immediately. You just smiled softly, giving her space, giving her a second to breathe.
Recognition happened constantly now. You were learning that. Sometimes people only stared, sometimes they whispered, sometimes they approached nervously like they were afraid they were interrupting something.
And Megan was always kind about it, always sweet. But you could tell it tired her sometimes too.
So while the girls worked up the courage to approach her near the cereal aisle, you wandered toward produce instead in search of scotch bonnets, cilantro and green onions.
You moved slowly through the section, absentmindedly spinning one of the peppers between your fingers while your headphones rested around your neck.
The tiny Spider-Man skateboard clipped to them knocked softly against your chest when you leaned down for another pepper.
Then, your chest tightened slightly. Because Megan wasn’t beside you anymore.
It was stupid. She was literally a few aisles away talking to fans, probably taking pictures, and still completely visible from here if you leaned slightly.
But after spending days somewhat attached at the hip, the sudden absence felt weirdly noticeable.
You glanced back automatically. And almost immediately, Megan looked up like she’d sensed it.
Her eyes scanned quickly over the store before landing on you near the produce section. The second she saw you, something in her visibly relaxed.
The fans were still talking to her excitedly but now half her attention had drifted back toward you already. You smiled faintly to yourself and turned back toward the peppers.
Thirty seconds later, arms wrapped around your waist from behind.
You laughed softly immediately, 'Dat was fast.'
'I lost you.'
'You did not lose meh.'
'You disappeared.'
You turned slightly in her arms to look at her, 'Megan, ah was across de aisle.'
'Still.'
She looked entirely serious about it too.
Behind her, the fans who’d been talking to her were still standing there smiling like they’d just witnessed the cutest thing alive.
One of them quietly covered her mouth. Another whispered, 'Oh my god.'
Megan barely even noticed, too busy tucking herself against your side again immediately.
You looked at her helplessly, 'Baby…'
'What?'
'You know yuh coulda stay wid dem lil longer.'
'I wanted you.'
The answer came so quickly it almost hurt. It made your face warm instantly.
One of the fans made a tiny emotional squeak behind her.
Megan finally seemed to remember other people existed and looked back quickly.
'Oh—sorry.' She laughed awkwardly.
The girls shook their heads immediately, 'No no, you guys are adorable.'
'We didn’t mean to interrupt.'
'You literally look married already.'
You choked instantly.
Megan, meanwhile, looked way too pleased by that statement, 'See?' She said proudly, turning back toward you, 'They get it.'
'Megan!'
She grinned while tightening her arms around your waist one more time before finally letting go, 'Okay, okay,' she laughed, 'I’ll stop harassing my girlfriend in public.'
'You literally start de harassment.'
'And I’ll continue it later too.'
The fans burst out laughing while you buried your face in your hands dramatically.
'Ah cyah stand dis gyal.'
Megan just looked smug, then immediately grabbed the shopping cart from your hands before you could push it yourself. Because apparently being clingy wasn’t enough, now she needed to push your groceries too.
By the time you finally reached the checkout line, your hands were freezing. You stood there rubbing them together miserably while Megan unloaded groceries from the basket beside you.
'You alive?' She asked softly.
'Barely.'
'You’re so dramatic.'
'Dis store got industrial AC.'
Megan laughed quietly under her breath while setting the flour beside the chickpeas on the conveyor belt. The cashier—a woman maybe a few years older than you—looked up halfway through scanning items.
Then paused slightly. Her eyes drifted towards you. The beanie, the curls, the oversized hoodie, the skateboard tucked against the cart.
Then she smiled, 'You guys find everything okay?'
'Mhm,' you answered absentmindedly while organising bags back into the cart. 'Eventually.'
'That’s good.'
Beep. Beep. Beep.
You barely paid attention while she kept scanning. Your focus was mostly on getting outside again before your Caribbean bloodline froze solid.
'I like your accent.'
You looked up politely, 'Oh. Thanks.'
'Where’re you from?'
'Trinidad.'
Her eyebrows lifted immediately, 'Wow.'
You nodded once before going back to fixing the bags in the cart, missing the way Megan had gone completely still beside you.
'You’re here visiting?' The cashier continued.
'Mhm.'
'That’s cute.'
Another beep. You shifted the tamarind sauce carefully so it wouldn’t crush the bara flour later.
'LA treating you okay so far?'
'Still deciding,' you admitted honestly, 'Every building feel fake.'
That made the cashier laugh. Okay. Maybe she did laugh a little too hard. Megan’s eyes narrowed immediately.
You, meanwhile, remained completely oblivious while trying to stop the peppers from rolling away inside the cart.
'So how long are you here for?' The cashier asked.
You shrugged lightly, 'Not sure yet.'
'You should let somebody show you around properly.'
That finally made Megan look up sharply.
The cashier smiled at you again. And then—unfortunately—she looked directly at Megan and saw the glare. Not even subtle either.
Megan was standing there with one hand resting possessively against your lower back, eyes narrowed slightly behind her glasses like she was mentally preparing for battle.
The cashier visibly faltered, '…Oh.'
Instant silence.
You blinked slowly between both of them, then immediately looked at Megan, '…Wha’ happen?'
'Nothing, baby.' Megan answered instantly.
The cashier suddenly became very interested in scanning chickpeas.
Beep. Beep.
The atmosphere got weird so fast you almost got whiplash.
You frowned slightly, '…Okay?'
Megan’s expression softened immediately the second you looked at her. 'You ready?'
'Mhm.'
The cashier finally cleared her throat awkwardly and turned the card reader toward you.
'That’ll be $64.82.'
You reached for your wallet automatically. But before you could even pull your card out—Megan had already paid.
You stared at her, 'Meg—'
'Too slow.'
'Baby—'
She ignored you completely. One hand immediately grabbed the cart while the other settled around your waist again. Possessive with close, constant contact.
Before you could even process what was happening properly, Megan was already steering both you and the cart toward the exit. Or more accurately, steering you.
Because she trapped you between herself and the shopping cart handles, arms basically caging you in while she pushed forward.
You burst out laughing instantly, 'Megan!'
'What?'
'Yuh drivin’ meh like groceries!'
'You’re precious cargo.'
'You jealous over de cashier?'
'No.'
'Yes yuh are.'
'I’m literally not.'
Her face said otherwise.
You twisted slightly to look back at her while she kept pushing the cart forward with you trapped against it, 'Megan.'
'She was flirting with you.'
Your eyebrows shot up, 'Wha’? No she wasn’t.'
Megan stared at you like you’d just said the sky was green, 'Baby.'
'She was askin’ questions!'
'She asked if somebody should show you around LA.'
You blinked once. Then twice, '…Oh.'
'Exactly.'
You started laughing immediately, 'Megan, yuh actually get jealous.'
'She was looking at you.'
'You sounding real possessive right now.'
'I AM possessive.'
That only made you laugh harder.
'Megan,' you wheezed, still trapped between her and the cart while she pushed both you and the groceries across the parking lot, 'yuh really out here beefin’ wid a cashier.'
'She wanted your number.'
'She wanted me to bag de groceries faster.'
'She was flirting.'
You turned slightly in her hold, still smiling helplessly. And honestly? The jealousy should not have been this cute.
Her hand stayed firm against your waist while she glared ahead dramatically like she was still offended by the entire interaction.
Your chest softened instantly, 'Hey.'
Megan finally looked at you. Still suspicious, still clingy, still holding you close like somebody might snatch you away.
You smiled softly, then leaned in and kissed her. Right there in the middle of the parking lot, slow enough to make her immediately melt.
Her grip on your waist tightened instinctively while the shopping cart rolled to a stop beside you.
When you pulled back, her forehead almost chased yours automatically, 'Nobody takin’ meh from yuh, okay?'
Megan looked at you quietly.
You brushed your thumb gently against the sleeve of her hoodie, 'Ah love you too much fuh dat.'
The expression on her face softened so completely it almost hurt to look at, '…Yeah?'
You laughed softly, 'Yeah, baby.'
She stared at you for another second like she was trying to memorise the moment.
Then immediately buried her face against your shoulder dramatically, 'You can’t say stuff like that when I’m emotional.'
'You emotional every day.'
'Exactly.'
You grinned while wrapping your arms loosely around her.
The parking lot lights glowed softly overhead, cars passed somewhere nearby as the grocery bags rustled gently in the cart beside you.
And Megan stayed tucked against you for another few seconds longer than necessary, like reassurance wasn’t something she’d ever get tired of hearing from you.
---
The second you and Megan stepped back into the apartment, warmth wrapped around you instantly.
Not just from the heating. But from her, from this place, from the weird growing feeling that this apartment had already started becoming yours too.
Megan locked the door behind you while you headed toward the kitchen with the grocery bags. Immediately, arms wrapped around your waist from behind again.
You laughed softly, 'Baby.'
'She was flirting with you.'
'There it is.'
Megan buried her face dramatically into your shoulder, 'I didn’t like it.'
You turned slightly in her hold, smiling helplessly, 'Yuh know ah only want yuh, right?'
'I KNOW.' She groaned loudly, 'That’s not the point.'
You snorted quietly while setting the groceries onto the counter, 'Yuh was lookin’ at dat cashier like yuh wanted fuh fight she.'
'Maybe I did.'
'Meg!'
'She was annoying.'
'She ask meh like three questions!'
'She laughed too hard at your jokes.'
'Ah didn’t even make jokes!'
'You existed near her in a beanie. Same thing.'
That made you laugh so hard you nearly dropped the bag of flour.
Megan stayed glued to your side the entire time you unpacked groceries. Literally glued. Hands on your waist, chin on your shoulder, following you from counter to counter while you tried getting ingredients organised.
'You know doubles require concentration, right?'
'Then concentrate.'
'Yuh distracting meh.'
'Good.'
You shook your head affectionately while tying your curls back loosely before shuffling your playlist as music started playing softly from your phone speaker nearby.
Soca, obviously.
Megan instantly perked up when you started pulling ingredients out, 'Wait, wait, wait—are you making them now?'
'Mhm.'
Her eyes widened, 'Right now, right now?'
'Yes, Megan.'
She gasped dramatically, 'MY doubles.'
You snorted quietly, 'Yuh acting like ah making yuh luxury cuisine.'
'It is luxury cuisine.'
You laughed while mixing flour into the bowl with warm water, yeast and salt. Your hands moved automatically while Megan hovered nearby watching like you were performing magic.
Honestly? She looked at you like that a lot lately. Like even the smallest things you did fascinated her.
You were halfway through seasoning the chickpeas in the pan when—
Ding dong.
Both of you froze.
You blinked.
Megan blinked harder then immediately frowned, '…No.'
The doorbell rang again. And then came the aggressive knocking.
'Megan we know y’all are home!'
Sophia.
You burst out laughing instantly while Megan looked genuinely betrayed.
'No.' She repeated, horrified.
The knocking got louder, 'LET US IN.'
Daniela this time.
Megan physically slumped against the counter, 'I hate them.'
You wheezed laughing while walking toward the door.
Behind you, Megan grabbed your hoodie dramatically, 'Don’t let them in.'
'Baby—'
'I wanted alone time!'
'You literally see dem today.'
'NOT THE SAME.'
Another knock. Then Lara’s voice, 'If nobody opens this door I’m ordering pizza.'
Megan gasped, 'She would never survive Trinidad.'
You laughed harder and finally opened the door. Chaos entered immediately.
Sophia spotted the bowl on the counter and pointed dramatically, 'DOUBLES.'
Daniela gasped loudly, 'OH MY GOD.'
Yoonchae immediately kicked her shoes off by the door, 'We live here now.'
'You absolutely do not.' Megan muttered darkly from the kitchen.
The girls all paused then slowly turned toward her.
'…Why does she sound grumpy?' Lara asked carefully.
Megan crossed her arms, 'I’m not grumpy.'
'You look like somebody stole your lunch.' Daniela said.
Sophia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, 'Did rehearsal kill her spirit finally?'
You snorted softly while going back toward the stove, 'Nah,' you started innocently, 'she jus’ jealous because—'
Suddenly, hands grabbed your face as Megan kissed you directly mid-sentence.
You made a surprised noise against her mouth while the girls exploded instantly behind you.
'OH MY GOD.'
'SHE SILENCED HER.'
'THAT WAS SO SUSPICIOUS.'
Daniela pointed dramatically, 'YOU WERE ABOUT TO EXPOSE HER.'
Megan pulled back just enough to glare at all of them while still holding your face, 'No she wasn’t.'
'Yes she was!' Sophia shouted.
Yoonchae’s eyes widened slowly, '…Wait.'
Then she pointed at Megan, 'You got jealous.'
Megan looked offended, 'I do NOT get jealous.'
All the girls stared at her silently, you included.
Megan faltered slightly beneath the collective disbelief. Then immediately looked at you instead, 'She was flirting with you.'
The room went silent for half a second. Then every single girl screamed.
Meanwhile you were laughing so hard you physically had to lean against the counter for support while Megan buried her face into your shoulder dramatically.
'I hate all of you.'
'No you don’t.' Sophia replied instantly while stealing a chickpea directly from the pan.
Megan looked up immediately, 'HEY.'
And just like that, the apartment dissolved into chaos again. Warm, loud and crowded.
The girls arguing over who got the first doubles while music played through the speakers and Megan stayed glued to your side the entire time anyway.
Honestly? It already felt a little like home.
---
The apartment stayed loud for a long time after that. Way too loud for the size of the space, honestly.
Sophia nearly burned her tongue trying to eat the doubles too fast. Daniela somehow got pepper sauce on the sleeve of her hoodie and acted like she’d been mortally wounded. Lara kept stealing chickpeas directly from the pan every time you turned around.
Meanwhile Megan remained attached to your side like a very jealous backpack. Every few minutes her arm would slide around your waist again, or she’d lean against your shoulder, or tug lightly on your hoodie strings just because she could.
The girls noticed immediately, obviously.
Sophia pointed midway through her second doubles, 'She’s still being possessive.'
'I am NOT.'
'You literally haven’t stopped touching her for twenty minutes.'
'That’s normal.'
'That’s concerning.' Yoonchae corrected.
You laughed softly under your breath while plating another doubles carefully.
Megan just wrapped herself around your back again in retaliation.
'No, you don’t.' Lara said through a mouthful of food.
Watching them all squeezed around Megan’s apartment felt strangely comforting.
The girls sprawled across the couch and floor like they’d been doing this for years. Music still played softly in the background, empty grocery bags remained abandoned near the kitchen island.
And somehow, you fit into it naturally. Like there’d always been space waiting for you here.
You were rinsing dishes when Sophia suddenly spoke again, 'So when are you moving here?'
The entire apartment went quieter immediately. Not silent, but quieter.
You paused slightly at the sink. Megan froze too.
Your eyes lifted slowly toward Sophia, '…Wha’?'
Sophia shrugged casually from the couch, 'You and Megan act married already. I’m just asking for the timeline.'
'Sophia!' Megan yelped instantly, face going red.
'What?' Manon snorted. 'She’s right.'
Yoonchae pointed at you with half a doubles in her hand, 'You already have designated spots for your stuff here.'
Lara nodded seriously, 'And Megan looks physically ill whenever you leave a room.'
'I do not.'
'You followed her into the kitchen three times tonight.' Daniela deadpanned.
Megan opened her mouth, then closed it again. Because unfortunately that was true.
You tried hiding your smile while drying your hands slowly on a towel.
The girls looked at you expectantly now, waiting.
And honestly? A week ago you probably would’ve laughed the question off completely. But now…
Now the idea didn’t feel ridiculous anymore.
You leaned back lightly against the counter, '…Ah doh know yet.'
You rubbed the back of your neck slowly, 'Ah mean…' You shrugged faintly, 'Ah think about it.'
The room got very quiet.
Sophia’s jaw dropped dramatically, 'WAIT REALLY?'
You laughed nervously. 'Lil bit.'
'A LITTLE BIT?!' Daniela nearly shouted.
Megan looked like she’d stopped breathing entirely. You glanced at her briefly, recalling the exact conversation you'd already had with her, before continuing softer this time.
'Ah like it here.'
That made something warm flicker across Megan’s face instantly. You noticed. And unfortunately it made your chest ache a little too.
'But,' you added carefully, 'it complicated.'
The girls settled down slightly at your tone. Because yeah it was exciting. But, again, it was complicated.
You looked down at the towel twisting lightly between your hands, 'Moving countries not simple.'
'No.' Lara agreed gently.
'An’ if ah move here…' You laughed quietly under your breath, 'LA expensive bad.'
Daniela snorted, 'That’s true.'
'Ah would need steady work.'
'You could definitely find work though.' Sophia said quickly.
'Maybe.'
'You absolutely could.' Megan added immediately.
You glanced over at her. She was watching you carefully now. So careful that your chest tightened slightly.
'Still need time though,' you continued softly. 'Need figure out visa stuff. Need save money. Need sort tings out back home first.'
Yoonchae nodded thoughtfully, 'That makes sense.'
'An’ ah can’t just randomly move in two seconds.' You added with a small laugh.
'You'd move in here though, for sure.' Megan blurted instantly.
Every single person in the apartment turned toward her.
At hearing Megan accidentally launch it into the middle of the living room like a grenade, it made your entire face burn.
Megan froze, then slowly sank deeper into the couch cushions. '…I mean temporarily.' She muttered weakly.
Sophia screamed immediately. 'OH MY GOD.'
'You asked her to move in already?!' Daniela shouted.
'I DIDN’T.'
'You literally just did!'
Lara immediately pointed between the two of you. 'Wait... have you guys already had a conversation about this?!'
'…I—I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.' She admitted quietly.
'No kidding.' You groaned.
Megan buried her face into a pillow while the girls dissolved into chaos again.
You couldn’t stop laughing. 'Megan.'
'What?!' Her voice came out muffled through the pillow. 'I’m being PRACTICAL.'
'You’re being whipped.' Lara corrected.
'Violently whipped.' Manon added.
You shook your head affectionately while Megan finally looked back up at you. And there it was again. That sincerity, that terrifyingly genuine hope.
'You know you could most definitely stay here though.' She said quieter this time.
The room softened immediately. No teasing, no chaos, just honesty.
Megan sat forward slightly now, elbows on her knees. 'I mean it.'
Your chest tightened. 'Baby…'
'You’d have time to figure things out,' she continued carefully. 'You wouldn’t need to rush finding an apartment right away.'
You looked at her quietly. 'And you wouldn’t be alone here.'
Something about that line hit deeper than expected. Because beneath all the jokes and clinginess and flirting, that was the real thing.
You wouldn’t be alone.
Megan kept talking softer now, 'You could work things out gradually. Find a job you actually like. Get settled properly.'
Daniela pointed suddenly, 'Wait.'
Everyone looked at her.
'You guys are having an actual adult conversation.'
Sophia gasped dramatically, 'Ew.'
That broke the tension instantly.
You laughed into your hands while Megan rolled her eyes.
'Can you all shut up for literally one second?'
'No.' Yoonchae answered immediately.
Still, the warmth lingered afterwards. Because even while the girls started arguing over the last doubles again, your mind stayed stuck on the conversation.
On the possibility of it all. And it scared you a little how much you wanted it.
---
Eight months later, LA still didn’t feel fully real sometimes. Not in a bad way. Just strange. Like you’d accidentally stepped into somebody else’s life and somehow never left.
The weirdest part? You almost had left.
A week after that night on Megan’s balcony, you’d flown back home to Trinidad with your chest hurting so badly you thought something might actually be wrong with you.
Leaving Megan at the airport had nearly killed both of you emotionally. She cried first, which immediately made you cry. Which then made both of you stand there hugging in the middle of departures looking genuinely miserable.
'I hate this.' Megan mumbled into your shoulder for probably the fiftieth time.
'Baby, ah literally comin’ back.'
'Not fast enough.'
You laughed quietly through the lump in your throat. Then kissed her again anyway, just one more time, and one more after that.
Because suddenly every goodbye felt too short.
Back home, everything had looked smaller somehow. Not worse, never worse. Just different.
Familiar streets, familiar heat wrapping around your skin the second you stepped outside the airport, familiar voices drifting through open windows.
Home, real home.
Your mother cried when she saw you. Your father nearly cracked your spine hugging you. And Kai?
Kai looked at you suspiciously for exactly three seconds before immediately checking your hands, '…Where de gift?'
You burst out laughing instantly, 'That de first ting yuh askin’?'
'You leave de country an’ come back empty-handed?'
'Ah itself is de gift.'
Kai narrowed his eyes, 'Nah.'
You grinned. Then casually added, 'Anyway, ah movin’ to LA.'
Silence.
Kai blinked slowly, '…Yuh joking.'
'Nope.'
That conversation had lasted three hours. Mostly because Kai acted personally betrayed by the entire concept, 'You cyah just move to America!'
'Apparently ah can.'
'Wha’ about me?'
'You surviving.'
'No ah not.'
Meanwhile your parents had been surprisingly calm about it. Not emotionless, definitely emotional but very supportive.
Your mother sat with you at the kitchen table late one night while paperwork covered half the surface. Visa documents, printed applications, job listings, apartment research.
You’d looked exhausted. Terrified too, honestly.
Your mother reached over and squeezed your hand gently, 'You love she.'
You stared quietly at the papers, '…Yeah.'
'And yuh happy?'
You smiled before you could stop yourself, '…Yeah.'
That had been enough for her.
The process after that moved both painfully slowly and terrifyingly fast all at once. Work shifts dragged endlessly as every customer suddenly irritated you because your brain was already somewhere else entirely.
LA, Megan, a future you could almost touch now.
You’d spent late nights scrolling job listings with Megan asleep on FaceTime beside you.
Graphic design jobs, printing companies, skate shops, creative studios. Anything remotely connected to design or skating or art.
And every single night Megan would mumble half-asleep through the phone, 'You’re gonna make it here.'
Eventually, you quit your job. That felt terrifying. Walking out after your final shift made your stomach twist so hard you thought you might throw up.
Because suddenly there was no backup plan anymore, no safety net. Just faith. Faith in yourself, faith in Megan, faith that maybe this insane decision would somehow work out.
Then one morning your visa got approved. You’d stared at the email for almost a full minute before your brain processed it properly. Then immediately screamed loud enough for Kai to come running into your room thinking somebody died.
Instead he found you crying on the floor clutching your laptop.
'…Oh.'
'AH MOVIN’.'
Kai groaned dramatically and collapsed face-first onto your bed, 'America thiefin’ everybody from me.'
Packing your life afterward felt surreal. Skateboards wrapped carefully in bubble wrap, clothes folded into boxes, posters peeled slowly from your walls.
Headphones, shoes, tiny random pieces of yourself accumulated over years. Your room slowly stopped looking like yours.
Meanwhile Megan was absolutely unbearable the entire time. She wanted updates constantly, pictures constantly, FaceTimes constantly.
One night while you were taping another box shut, she gasped loudly through the phone, 'Wait.'
You looked up suspiciously, 'Wha’?'
'THIS MEANS YOUR STUFF IS GONNA LIVE HERE.'
You burst out laughing, 'Baby, calm down.'
'No, because your hoodies are gonna be in my closet.'
'They already does end up dere somehow.'
'And your boards by the door!'
'Mhm.'
'And all of your Spider-Man stuff!'
'There it is.'
'We’re getting shelves.'
'For de boards?'
'For the Spider-Man collectibles.'
You wheezed laughing while Megan grinned proudly through the screen.
By the time the boxes finally shipped out to LA, the whole thing stopped feeling theoretical.
It was happening, it was actually happening.
Then finally, a month later, you stood in the airport again. Only this time with a one-way ticket.
Megan met you at arrivals looking seconds away from emotional collapse. The second she saw you, she genuinely started crying, again.
'Megan!'
'I can’t help it!'
You barely got your suitcase dropped before she crashed into you hard enough to nearly knock you backward.
'You’re here,' she kept repeating against your neck. 'You’re actually here.'
You couldn’t fully believe it either.
The first few months were messy, adjustment messy. You got homesick sometimes, really homesick. Certain smells, certain songs. Random moments where you missed Trinidad so hard your chest physically hurt.
Megan learned quickly how to spot it too. She’d find you quieter than usual and immediately drag you somewhere comforting. A Caribbean restaurant, a beach, a late-night drive with soca playing too loud.
Sometimes she’d just hold you quietly in bed while you talked about home.
And through all of it, she never made you feel guilty for missing somewhere else. That mattered more than she probably realised.
Work took longer. Applications, interviews, freelance jobs first, small design gigs, custom graphics for local skate shops, sticker designs, t-shirt prints, logos.
Eventually one company noticed your work properly. A skate and streetwear brand looking for somebody who could do both graphic design and physical print work. Boards, signs, merch, clothing, everything.
You’d walked out of the interview trying very hard not to throw up from nerves. Then got the call two days later, you got the job.
You screamed so loudly Megan thought somebody got hurt. Instead she found you crying in the kitchen holding your phone, again.
Apparently you cried a lot now. LA had done that to you.
Now? Life finally felt steadier. Not perfect, but real.
You woke up beside Megan almost every morning, your skateboards actually did line the apartment walls now, half the closet belonged to you as the Spider-Man problem had spread aggressively throughout the apartment despite Megan pretending to complain about it.
You paid for groceries now, bills sometimes too. Megan still argued every single time you tried sending her money.
'You live here too.' You’d insist.
'You’re my girlfriend.' She’d argue back.
'And?'
'And I like taking care of you.'
'Baby.'
Eventually you compromised. Mostly because you started making enough money that Megan physically couldn’t stop you anymore.
Your designs started getting printed onto actual boards in stores.
The first time you saw one hanging in a shop window, you stood there staring at it for almost ten minutes. A girl from Trinidad, designing skateboards in LA, actually building a life here.
It still felt impossible sometimes.
But at night, when you came home exhausted and found Megan asleep on the couch waiting for you, or when the girls crowded the apartment for movie nights, or when you caught yourself automatically calling LA 'home' during phone calls with your parents…
You realised something quietly.
You hadn’t lost your old life, you’d just built another one too.
---
The apartment was finally quiet. No rehearsal schedules, no screaming girls stealing your food, no deadlines. Just soft rain tapping faintly against the windows and the distant glow of LA stretching endlessly outside.
You padded back into the bedroom carefully balancing two mugs of tea while Megan sat against the headboard waiting for you.
The second she saw you, her entire face softened. There it is, that look, the one she still got after all these months. Like she couldn’t fully believe you were real.
You smiled immediately, 'Wha’?'
'You made me tea.'
You snorted quietly while climbing onto the bed beside her, 'Baby, is literally tea.'
'Made by you, though.'
'Mhm.'
She took the mug from your hands carefully before instantly leaning over to kiss your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. Just because she could.
You laughed softly, 'Yuh extra affectionate tonight.'
'I’m always affectionate.'
'Yuh clingy.'
'And you love it.'
She was right.
The blankets tangled around both of you almost immediately once you settled properly. Your legs slid beneath hers automatically while Megan tucked herself against your side like she belonged there.
Because, honestly, she did.
Your apartment looked lived in now. Not hers, yours. Both of yours.
Your skateboards lined one wall beside framed posters and random prints from your job, hoodies mixed together in the closet, tea mugs left beside the sink earlier from that morning. Tiny pieces of a shared life everywhere.
Megan rested her chin against your shoulder while blowing gently across her tea, 'You smell like paint again.'
You laughed quietly, 'Work.'
'I like it.'
'Mhm.'
'It smells like you.'
That made your chest ache a little.
You turned your head slightly and kissed her forehead softly, then her cheek, then finally her mouth.
Megan immediately melted into you with a tiny happy sigh, 'There she is.'
You murmured against her lips.
'My favourite person.'
You smiled helplessly, 'Yuh real cheesy these days.'
'These days?' She looked offended, 'I’ve always been cheesy.'
'Yuh not wrong.'
She grinned proudly before kissing you again anyway. Small kisses this time, one after another. On the cheek, jaw, nose and then your mouth. Like she physically couldn’t stop touching you.
Eventually you settled back properly against the pillows while Megan half laid across your chest.
The rain outside got a little heavier, the apartment stayed warm.
You ran your fingers slowly through her damp hair while she traced lazy shapes against your stomach beneath your hoodie.
Then you let out quietly, 'Ah think Kai finally stop bein’ mad at meh.'
Megan laughed softly, 'No he didn’t.'
'He still upset ah didn’t bring back gifts.'
'You moved across the world and that still wasn’t enough for him.'
'Ungrateful.'
She smiled against your shoulder, 'When’s he visiting again?'
'Summer probably.'
Megan perked up immediately, 'Really?'
'Mhm. Him and meh parents wanna come see LA.'
Her face lit up instantly, 'Oh my god wait that’s actually gonna be so fun.'
You laughed softly at how excited she looked, 'Yuh already planning.'
'Obviously.'
She sat up slightly now, fully invested, 'We have to take them everywhere.'
'Everywhere?'
'Yes.'
'Baby, LA huge.'
'And?'
You snorted.
Megan started counting dramatically on her fingers, 'The beach, the studio, your work, my work... maybe and your skating spots.'
'Yuh forgetting Kai only care about food.'
'That’s true.'
'And annoying meh.'
'That too.'
You both laughed quietly. Then her expression softened again while looking at you.
'You know…' she murmured, 'sometimes I still randomly remember you actually live here now.'
Your chest warmed instantly, 'Yeah?'
'Mhm.'
She tucked herself closer again immediately, 'Like earlier today when I walked into the kitchen and your tea mug was already there.'
You smiled faintly.
'And your shoes by the door,' she continued softly, 'And your boards everywhere. And your little Spider-Man stuff slowly taking over my apartment.'
'Our apartment.'
Megan froze, then looked up at you so fast you nearly laughed, '…Our apartment?'
You immediately got shy, 'Ah mean—'
'No, no,' She grabbed your face instantly, 'Say it again.'
You burst out laughing while she kissed you before you could dodge away.
'Our apartment,' she repeated happily against your mouth, 'Oh my god.'
'Megan—'
'You called it ours!'
'Cause it is ours!'
She looked genuinely emotional about it, actually emotional.
You cupped her cheek gently while smiling softer now, 'Baby.'
'I’m happy.' She admitted quietly.
The sincerity in her voice hit you immediately. Not loud, not dramatic, just real.
'I know life gets crazy sometimes,' she continued softly, fingers threading through yours beneath the blanket, 'And work is stressful and schedules suck and we’re both tired all the time…'
She looked at you carefully, 'But I really love this life with you.'
Your chest hurt instantly. The good kind of hurt. The kind that made you realise how lucky you were.
You leaned forward slowly and kissed her again, longer this time.
Your hand sliding gently into her hair while hers rested warm against your neck. When you pulled back, she chased one more tiny kiss automatically, then another.
You laughed quietly against her lips, 'Yuh addicted.'
'To you? Extremely.'
You shook your head affectionately while pulling her back down against your chest again.
For a while neither of you spoke. Just listened to the rain and held each other.
Megan eventually traced tiny circles against your ribs absentmindedly, '…You know what my favourite part is?'
You hummed softly, 'Wha’?'
'You came back.'
Your throat tightened unexpectedly.
Megan kissed your cheek gently, 'Even when it was scary.'
You looked down at her quietly, '…Worth it though.'
Her eyes softened immediately, 'Yeah?'
You smiled before pressing another soft kiss to her forehead, 'Yeah, baby.'
And wrapped up together beneath warm blankets, tea slowly cooling beside the bed, rain falling outside your shared apartment in LA—
You realised something quietly. You were happy too.
Summary: You’re a skater from Trinidad, and she’s a popstar living in a world that never slows down. But between LA sunsets, late-night calls, Spider-Man hoodies, and skateboards rolling through unfamiliar streets, you somehow keep finding your way back to each other — and it starts to feel like home.
Pairings: idol!megan x nonidol!reader
Warning(s): mild anxiety / mentions of feeling overwhelmed in unfamiliar places / fluff / romance / megan is a literal golden retriever
A/N: PART 2!! there will be a part 3 coming very soon! i just physically could not get it all into this post
The house feels wrong the day after she leaves. Not empty or quiet in a literal way. Just so very wrong.
The same morning sounds are there. Birds outside, a car passing too fast down the street, someone calling out across the road like they always do.
But it doesn’t land the same.
You’re lying on your bed staring at the ceiling, phone in your hand, her last message still open.
Megan🖤: Text me when u wake up
You had woken up hours ago. You just didn’t text yet.
Because once you do, it becomes real again. The distance, the time zones, talking through screens instead of touching one another.
You sigh, dragging a hand over your face before finally typing.
You: am awake already
You: yuh probably asleep still tho
You stare at the screen.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Megan🖤: I’m awake
Megan🖤: I’ve BEEN awake
Your lips twitch.
You: liar
Megan🖤: I am not
Megan🖤: I woke up early for once
You snort softly, sitting up.
You: yuh don’t wake up early unless somebody drag yuh
Megan🖤: rude
Megan🖤: I miss you
That one lands different.
Your chest tightens a little, but you lean back against the wall, grounding yourself.
You: yuh only leave yesterday
Megan🖤: and?
Megan🖤: that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you
You shake your head, smiling anyway.
You: yuh real clingy
Megan🖤: and whose fault is that?
You pause. Because that's fair.
Later that night, you're sitting on the small step by your house, skateboard beside you, headphones in one ear only, like always. The other ear tuned into the world around you.
Soca plays low, someone down the street is arguing about football, a dog is barking like it has something to prove.
Your phone is balanced on your knee as Megan’s face fills the screen.
She looks tired. Not just sleepy. Tired-tired. Hair tied back, hoodie on, lights dim behind her.
'Yuh didn’t sleep properly, eh?' You say.
She squints at you. 'I slept.'
'For how long?'
'…that’s not important.'
You raise an eyebrow.
She sighs. 'Like four hours.'
You click your tongue. 'Meg.'
'I had rehearsals early!'
'Still.'
She shifts, pulling her knees up into frame. 'I wanted to call you.'
Your expression softens instantly. 'Yuh could’ve sleep first.'
'I wanted you first.'
That does something to your chest you don’t comment on.
So instead you lean back, balancing your phone better. 'How today was?' You ask.
She exhales. 'Long. Interviews. Dance. Vocal checks. More interviews. I think I answered the same question like twelve times.'
'What question?'
She straightens slightly, putting on a mock interview voice.
'What’s it like being in Katseye?'
You grin. 'And what yuh say?'
'It’s amazing, I love my members, we’re like family.' She deadpans.
You laugh. 'Yuh does lie good, Meg.'
She gasps. 'Excuse me?!'
'I hear no mention ah me in dat answer.'
'That’s because you’re not in Katseye!'
'Rude.'
'I talk about you off-camera.' She adds quickly.
'Mhm.'
'I do!'
You watch her for a second, really watch her. The way her shoulders are slightly tense, the way she keeps adjusting her hoodie sleeves, the way her eyes soften every time she looks at you.
Your voice drops a little. 'Yuh okay though?'
She pauses, then nods. 'Yeah… just busy.'
You don’t push. You just nod slowly. 'When ah could come see yuh?' You ask casually.
She freezes. Actually freezes. '…What?'
You shrug lightly like it’s nothing. 'Visit. LA. When yuh free?'
Her expression shifts immediately—hope, excitement, then something else.
Reality.
She sits up straighter. 'I mean—I want you to. Obviously. Like—immediately. Right now if possible.'
You grin. 'Ah could catch a flight tomorrow.'
'Don’t tempt me.' She says quickly. Then she hesitates.
And you see it. The part she doesn’t want to say.
'Schedule?' You guess.
She nods slowly. 'Yeah.'
You tilt your head. 'How bad?'
She exhales, running a hand through her hair. 'We’ve got promo, rehearsals, recording sessions… and then more promo. It’s kinda packed for the next couple weeks.'
A couple weeks.
You don’t react immediately, just nod.
'So when good?' You ask.
She thinks. Actually thinks and then pulls up her laptop, probably checking her schedule.
'Maybe…' she murmurs. 'Three weeks? There’s a small break. Not long, but enough that I wouldn’t be completely gone the whole time.'
Three weeks.
You nod again. 'Aight.'
She looks up at you quickly. 'I wish it was sooner.'
'It alright.'
'No it’s not,' she says immediately. 'I want you here.'
You smile a little. 'Patience, Megs.'
She groans and flops back onto her bed dramatically. 'I hate patience.'
'Ah know.'
You stay outside long after the call ends. Headphones still in but no music playing now. Just thinking.
Three weeks. You could wait, you probably should wait.
But you glance at your skateboard, at the worn grip tape, at the tiny Spider-Man headphone holder clipped perfectly to your bag.
You think about her face when she said 'I want you here', you think about LA, about her world, about how different it is.
Then you lean forward, elbows on your knees and grin. 'Three weeks?' You mutter to yourself.
You shake your head. 'Nah.'
You’re already inside before the thought fully finishes forming. Room still messy from the week.
You drag out the suitcase buried in your closet and drop it onto your bed, zipping it open.
'One week.' You say under your breath.
Because yeah. Her schedule is busy, her time is limited. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be there. Even if it’s just to see her at the end of the day, even if it’s just for a few hours at a time, even if it’s just… being in the same city.
Your hands move faster now. Clothes first, light ones. Then a hoodie.
You pause and then reach for it. Your Spider-Man hoodie. The one she just gave you. You hold it for a second longer than necessary, then fold it carefully and place it right on top.
'Definitely carryin’ dis.'
Next, your headphones. Obviously.
You grab them from around your neck and wrap them automatically around the tiny skateboard holder.
Click. Secure. Habit. Comfort. Non-negotiable.
You toss them gently into your carry-on.
Then you reach for your actual skateboard before hesitating. You look at the suitcase, look back at the board, then grin again.
'Yeah… yuh comin’ too.'
---
You almost forget to book the ticket. Almost.
You’re halfway through packing—clothes folded in uneven stacks, your Spider-Man hoodie already placed carefully on top like it deserves priority—when it hits you.
You pause and blink. '…Ah real stupid, oui.'
Your phone is still in your hand from earlier. You drop onto your bed, suitcase open beside you, and pull up the airline app.
Flights. Dates. Prices that make you wince slightly.
'Yuh going regardless.' You mutter, scrolling.
You pick one for next week. Not too early, not too late. Just enough time to sort things out properly. Your thumb hovers over the confirm button for a second. Then you tap.
It's booked. Just like that.
You stare at the confirmation screen, a slow grin spreading across your face. 'Well… dat done now.'
You tell your job the next day. It takes a bit of explaining, a bit of re-arranging shifts, a bit of 'I’ll make it up when I get back,' but eventually it gets approved.
A few weeks off. It still doesn’t feel real.
The sun is doing that thing again—low, golden, soft enough to make everything look a little slower than it actually is.
You’re sitting on the low sea wall, one foot resting on your skateboard, the other dangling loose. Your smoothie is already half gone, condensation dripping down your fingers in the heat.
Beside you, Kai is exactly the same as always. Sunglasses on, expression unreadable, judging the world silently.
You nudge his foot with yours. 'Ah leaving next week.'
He doesn’t react immediately. He takes a slow sip of his drink. Then eventually asks, 'Where?'
You glance at him like he’s dumb. 'LA.'
That gets a reaction. Only a small one.
His head tilts slightly. 'To see wifey.'
'Yeah.'
Silence again.
'She know?'
You shake your head, taking a sip. 'Nah yet.'
Kai lets out a short breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh. 'So you just… showin’ up?'
You grin. 'Pretty much.'
'You bold, oui.'
'Ah know.'
He studies you for a second. Then nods once. 'Good.'
You glance at him. 'Dat all yuh have to say?'
He shrugs. 'What yuh want meh say? Don’t go?'
'Nah.'
'Exactly.'
You smirk.
He taps his board lightly against yours. 'Just doh get lost in dem big big roads.'
You laugh. 'Ah go manage.'
Kai nods again, like that’s settled. Then after a second, he says, 'Bring back someting for meh.'
You scoff. 'Of course dat what yuh worried ’bout.'
It doesn't take long before everything starts to feel like a countdown.
Every time you wake up, every time your phone lights up with her name, every time you glance at your suitcase sitting half-packed in the corner of your room.
You keep adding things, taking things out, adding them back again.
'Do ah need dis?'
Probably not but you pack it anyway. Your Spider-Man hoodie stays exactly where it is, folded carefully. Your headphones too, always within reach.
You don’t even think about it anymore—wires wrapped neatly around the tiny skateboard holder, now stay clipped to your belt loop like it belongs there.
It does belong there. You check it before you leave the house, you check it before you sleep, you check it like it’s part of you.
Trying to keep it a secret from Megan was probably the hardest part of this whole operation. But you can’t keep it in anymore.
You try. You really do. But she’s on FaceTime with you late that night, hair damp from a shower, sitting cross-legged on her bed while scrolling through something on her laptop.
Talking about her day, about rehearsals, about how tired she is. And you’re just sitting there smiling like an idiot.
'Why you smiling like that, you weirdo?' She suddenly asks, narrowing her eyes.
You freeze. 'Ah not smiling.'
'You are.'
'Ah always smile.'
'Not like that.'
You try to look normal. It fails immediately.
She leans closer to the camera. 'What did you do?'
'Nothing.'
'You did something.'
'Ah didn’t.'
'Y/N…'
You last about three more seconds. Then you sigh. 'Aight, aight—'
Her eyes light up instantly. 'I knew it.'
You rub the back of your neck. 'Doh get mad, eh.'
She straightens. '…Why would I get mad?'
You hesitate before spilling. 'Ah comin’ to LA next week.'
Silence. Actual silence. Like her brain needs a second to catch up.
'…What?'
You grin, a little sheepish now. 'Ah book the ticket already.'
She just stares at you. Then her hands fly up to her face.
'YOU’RE LYING.'
'Ah not!'
'You’re serious?!'
'Dead serious.'
She literally bounces in place. 'WHEN?!'
You laugh. 'Couple days.'
Her entire face changes. All the tiredness? Gone. Replaced with pure excitement.
'Oh my god—oh my god—wait—wait—WAIT—' she scrambles off the bed, pacing now. 'You’re actually coming here?? Like HERE here??'
'Yeah, Megs.'
She turns back to the camera. 'You didn’t wait the three weeks.'
You shrug. 'Ah impatient.'
She laughs—bright, loud, completely unfiltered. 'I LOVE THAT YOU DIDN’T LISTEN TO ME!'
You blink. '…Yuh not mad?'
'Mad?! Are you crazy?!' She rushes back toward the screen. 'I’m literally so happy right now.'
Your chest warms. You didn’t realise you were bracing for that, for her to be a little annoyed, a little stressed. But instead, she’s glowing.
'I get to see you sooner,' she says, softer now. 'Do you know how long I’ve been counting days already?'
You grin. 'Apparently not long enough.'
She points at you. 'You’re not allowed to surprise me like this again.'
'Why?'
'Because I almost had a heart attack!'
You laugh. 'Yuh dramatic.'
'And proud of it.'
She flops back onto her bed, still smiling like she can’t stop. 'Wait… where are you staying?'
You pause.
'…Ah was thinkin’ some random hotel close by.'
Megan’s face twists immediately. 'Absolutely not.'
You blink. 'What?'
'You’re staying with me.'
'Meg—'
'No. I’m serious.' She points at the screen like that settles everything. 'You’re not staying in some sketchy hotel by yourself.'
'Ah could handle mehself, yuh know.'
'I know you can,' she says quickly. 'I still want you with me.'
You squint at the screen. '...Dat sound kinda controlling, eh.'
Megan grins instantly. 'Good.'
'Rude.'
'Correct.'
A laugh slips out of both of you at the same time, easy and familiar. For a few seconds neither of you says anything after it fades, just sitting there smiling at your screens like idiots.
Then Megan leans back against her pillow, looking at you a little too softly. 'Y’know…' she says quietly, 'I really can’t wait to see you.'
You look at her for a second. 'Me neither.'
The night before, you don’t sleep properly. Not because you’re stressed, but because your brain won’t slow down. You keep thinking about the airport, the flight, her face when you land, LA... everything.
Your suitcase is finally zipped as your carry-on sits by the door. Headphones are wrapped and ready. Passport has been checked three times. Your board? Cleaned. Wheels tightened.
You lie back on your bed, staring at the ceiling again. But this time? It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels like something’s about to start.
The morning hits fast. Too fast. You’re out the house before the sun fully settles into the sky, backpack slung over one shoulder, suitcase rolling behind you.
Your skateboard tucked under your arm. Of course.
The air is warm already. Familiar and comforting. You pause for half a second outside your house, just standing there, looking at the street and listening.
Then you nod to yourself. 'Aight.'
And start moving.
The airport feels louder than usual. Or maybe you just notice it more. People rushing, announcements echoing overhead, suitcases rolling across tile floors.
You move through it smoothly, weaving where you need to, board tucked under your arm like it belongs there. Because it does.
Check-in. Security. Waiting area. Every step feels like you’re getting closer to something you’ve been thinking about for days, weeks. Maybe longer.
You find your gate and drop into a seat, leaning back slightly. Your headphones come out automatically.
Click.
Wires unwrap from the tiny skateboard holder. Music starts. Low and familiar.
You glance down at your phone to see a message already waiting.
Megan🖤: Did you leave yet??
You smile.
You: at the airport
You: yuh stressin’ again
Three dots instantly.
Megan🖤: I’m not stressing
Megan🖤: okay I am
You laugh quietly to yourself, leaning back in your seat.
You: relax
You: ah on meh way
You look out through the large glass windows. Planes lined up, engines humming, the runway stretching out ahead. Your board rests against your leg, your bag at your feet, your whole life—packed into a few bags for now.
And for the first time since you made the decision, it really hits. You’re going to her. Not through a phone call, not through a screen. In person.
You exhale slowly. A small grin pulling at your lips. 'Yeah…'
Your flight gets called. You stand and grab your bag. Tuck your board under your arm again and step forward.
---
The first thing you notice when the plane lands is how unreal everything feels. It's not exciting, its not overwhelming. It's just... off. It's like your brain hasn’t caught up yet.
You sit there for a second after everyone starts standing, staring out the window at the stretch of runway, the distant buildings, the way the light hits everything a little too clean.
'…This it?' You murmur under your breath.
It doesn’t look like the LA you’ve seen in movies. It looks normal. But not your kind of normal, that’s the difference.
By the time you step off the plane, it hits you properly. The air is different, cooler—but not cold, dry. It doesn’t wrap around you like Trinidad does. It doesn’t cling, it doesn’t hold you. It just exists.
You adjust your backpack slightly, skateboard still tucked under your arm, moving with the flow of people through the terminal.
Everything feels bigger. Wider hallways, higher ceilings, more people—but somehow less connected. Nobody is really looking at each other, they're all moving like they’ve got somewhere important to be.
Fast and focused but quiet in a loud kind of way.
You glance around, eyes tracking everything. Different accents, different energy, different rhythm.
'Yeah… dis real different.' You mutter.
For a second, it almost feels like a fever dream. Like you’re not fully in your body yet.
You shake your head lightly. 'Jet lag,' you decide. 'Dat all dis is.'
You reach baggage claim and stand there, watching the carousel spin, watching the suitcases rolling past one by one. You rest your board against your leg, fingers tapping lightly against the grip tape out of habit.
Your suitcase finally rolls into view. You grab it easily, pulling it off the belt and setting it upright beside you.
Then you pause. You look at your skateboard, look at your backpack and decide to carefully slide the board through the straps, securing it across your back.
Fits perfectly. You nod to yourself once. 'Aight.'
You pull out your phone and open your messages.
Megan🖤
Your thumb hovers for half a second. Then you start typing.
You: i landed
You don’t even lock your phone before it starts ringing.
Your eyebrows shoot up. 'Already?!'
You answer immediately. 'Hello?'
'Where are you?' She blurts instantly.
You laugh softly, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. 'Hello to you too, Megs.'
'I’m serious—where are you?'
'Baggage claim.'
'Which one?'
You glance up at the signs. 'Uh… three, I think.'
'Okay—don’t move.'
You snort. 'Ah wasn’t plannin’ to sprint off, yuh know.'
'I’m coming.'
Before you can respond, she hangs up.
You stare at your phone. '…Okay den.'
You look up again, scanning the area. There's people everywhere, families, couples, tourists. But no Megan.
You shift slightly, trying to get a better view. Still nothing.
Your phone buzzes.
Megan🖤: I see you
You frown.
You: where
Megan🖤: right in front of you
You look up again. Left, right, straight ahead. Nothing.
'Girl, yuh playin’—' you start muttering. Then you hear the sound of heavy footsteps. Fast and by the sounds of it, getting closer.
You barely have time to turn before you're almost took off your feet.
'Ar—!'
Arms wrap around you hard enough to knock the air out of your chest.
You stumble back half a step, laughing in surprise as you grab onto her automatically.
'Megan!'
She’s wearing a cap pulled low, sunglasses hiding most of her face, oversized hoodie again like she’s trying to disappear. It doesn’t work. You’d recognise her anywhere.
Her arms are tight around your shoulders, your hands immediately settling at her waist like they always do.
'I missed you.' She says into your neck, breath warm, voice softer now.
You grin, pulling her closer. 'Yuh always miss meh.'
'Because I always do.'
You pull back just enough to look at her. Even with the disguise, you can see it.
That look, that same one. Then you kiss her. Quick at first. Then again, for longer. Because yeah—she’s here. Not on a screen, not through a call. Here, in front of you.
She doesn’t let go for long, just enough to grab your hand. 'Come on.'
You blink. 'Wha’—now?'
'I don’t have long.'
She’s already pulling you, weaving through people like she’s done this a hundred times. You grab your suitcase quickly, rolling it behind you as you keep up.
'Meg—slow down!'
'I got like two hours,' she says over her shoulder. 'Missy thinks I’m just grabbing something nearby.'
You raise an eyebrow. 'So yuh sneak out fuh me?'
She glances back at you with a grin. 'Obviously.'
You can’t even argue with that.
The parking lot feels even bigger than the airport. Rows and rows of cars. Everything stretching out.
You barely have time to process it before she’s unlocking a car and tossing your suitcase into the back.
'Get in.'
You slide into the passenger seat, still looking around. She pulls her cap down a little more, adjusting her sunglasses before starting the engine.
For a second, you just sit there taking her in. This version of her, this environment, this life.
She glances at you. 'Why are you staring at me?'
You shrug. 'Yuh look like yuh robbin’ a bank.'
She snorts. 'It’s called not getting recognised.'
'Mhm.'
She reaches over and squeezes your hand quickly. 'I’m really glad you came.'
Your chest softens instantly. 'Me too.'
LA moves fast, cars everywhere, lanes that don’t seem to end, buildings rising up on either side.
You’re quieter than usual. Just watching, taking it all in. Megan notices. Of course she does.
Her thumb brushes over your knuckles. 'You okay?'
You nod slowly. 'Yeah… jus’ watchin’.'
'It’s a lot, right?'
You huff a small laugh. 'Lil bit.'
She smiles. 'You’ll get used to it.'
You glance at her. 'Yuh sure?'
'Yeah.' She says it without hesitation. 'You always do.'
Her apartment complex comes up quicker than you expect. It's tall and modern with balconies that stack high above the street. She pulls into the underground parking area, already glancing at the time on her phone.
'Okay—I have to go in like five minutes.'
You nod. 'Ah know.'
She turns off the engine. And suddenly everything slows again. You both sit there for a second just looking at each other. Then she leans over and kisses you. Slow and warm. Like she's grounding you.
Her hand cups your cheek slightly. Your fingers curl into her hoodie instinctively.
When she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours. 'I wish I could stay longer.'
'Yuh busy. Ah get it.'
'I still don’t like it.'
You smile softly. 'Ah go be here.'
She exhales a quiet laugh, then reaches into the centre console before holding something out.
A silver key. Attached to a tiny black keychain.
You blink. 'Meg.'
'You’re staying here with me, remember?'
Your chest does something stupidly soft. She presses the key into your hand anyway.
'Apartment 1408,' she says. 'Fourth floor from the top. If security asks, just tell them you’re with me.'
You look down at the key again. Then back at her. 'Yuh trust meh with a whole apartment?'
She grins instantly. 'I trust you more than myself.'
That earns a quiet laugh out of you. 'Text me when you get upstairs, okay?'
'Yeh.'
Another kiss, quicker this time. Then she pulls back reluctantly, glancing toward the clock on the dashboard. 'Damn. I really gotta go, baby.'
You nod softly. 'Before Missy realise yuh disappear?'
Megan groans. 'Exactly.'
You laugh quietly and reach for the door handle. The second you step out, the LA air hits you again—cooler now in the parking garage, dry against your skin.
Megan’s already leaning across the centre console, looking up at you through the open door. '1408. Don’t forget the number.'
You grin lightly. 'Yuh think ah go get lost already?'
'Yes.' She says immediately.
'Rude.'
'Correct.'
That gets another laugh out of both of you. Then her expression softens again for half a second. 'I’ll see you tonight, okay?'
'Ah go be waitin’.'
'I know.'
You shut the door gently and step back away from the car. Megan gives you one last look before pulling away. And it’s only when the car disappears around the corner that your brain catches up.
Silence.
You blink once. Then slowly look around. No suitcase. Your skateboard’s still strapped to your backpack which is hanging off your shoulder, headphones around your neck—but every actual item of clothing you own is still in Megan’s trunk.
You stare in the direction the car disappeared. '…Dat gyal real bright, oui.'
Then you snort to yourself, already pulling your phone out as you head toward the elevator.
Because honestly? That sounds exactly like her.
The elevator ride up is quiet. You lean back lightly against the wall, backpack still hanging off one shoulder. The key rests warm in your palm.
The doors slide open to reveal the soft hallway lighting, muted carpet beneath your shoes. Everything is clean and still.
You find the apartment quickly.
1408
For a second, you just stand there staring at the number. Then you slide the key in.
Click.
The apartment is warm when you step inside. Lived in. Not spotless-perfect like a hotel, but real.
A hoodie tossed over the couch, sneakers by the door, a half-finished water bottle on the counter, little pieces of her everywhere.
The door shuts quietly behind you. And somehow, that’s what finally makes this whole thing feel real. You drop your bag carefully by the couch, slipping your skateboard off your back.
Silence settles around you. But not empty silence, Megan silence.
You walk slowly through the apartment, taking everything in. The framed photos, the blankets, the faint smell of her shampoo lingering in the air.
Your chest tightens a little. Not in a bad way. Just a lot.
You move toward the window, looking out over LA stretching endlessly below. Cars moving like streams of light, buildings stacked into the distance. Big, unfamiliar, different.
But then your eyes catch the reflection in the glass. Same curls, same headphones around your neck, same board resting near the couch, same you.
Just here now.
You exhale slowly. '…Okay.'
You're not overwhelmed, you're not scared. You're just feeling it, all at once. You pull a headphone up, untangling them from around your neck.
Music fills one ear. The other stays open, like always.
And for the first time since landing, you smile. Because yeah its different, its big and its a lot. But this is her place. And somehow, that makes it feel a little like home already.
---
The apartment was dark when your phone finally buzzed loud enough to drag you out of sleep. At first, you didn’t even know where you were. You didn't even know when you'd fallen asleep.
Your brain felt slow and syrupy, caught somewhere between Trinidad and Los Angeles. The unfamiliar hum of traffic outside, the cold blast of AC, the heavy blanket tangled around your legs.
For one disorienting second, you genuinely thought you were back home. Then your eyes focused on the ceiling. Right. You're in LA, in Megan’s apartment.
You groaned quietly, rubbing your face as the buzzing continued beside you. Your phone screen glowed violently against the couch cushion.
You scrambled upright on the couch so fast the blanket tangled around your legs while your headphones cable yanked tight around your neck like it personally wanted revenge.
You choked immediately. 'ACK—'
For a solid two seconds, jetlag and your own headphones nearly took you before you've even spent a day in LA.
The apartment looked like pure exhaustion.
One of Megan’s hoodies half-thrown over you. Your skateboard abandoned near the balcony door, sneakers kicked somewhere near the kitchen, your headphones still half tangled around your neck, half tangled around the couch arm where you’d apparently passed out mid-scroll.
Jetlag had absolutely destroyed you.
You grabbed the phone fast, immediately hitting call back. It rang once. Twice, then connected instantly.
'HELLO?!'
You blinked at the sheer panic in her voice. 'Meg—?'
'Oh my god.' The relief flooding through the speaker was so intense you could practically feel it.
'Oh my god, you're alive.'
You sat up straighter immediately. 'Wait nah—wha’ happen?'
'I’ve been trying to call you for an hour!'
You winced. '...oh.'
'Mhm OH.' Her voice was breathless. 'I thought you got murdered!'
You rubbed your face tiredly. 'Meg, ah was sleepin’.'
'You vanished!'
'Ah sorry.'
'You weren’t answering texts!'
'Jetlag beatin’ meh ass right now.'
There was a loud thud through the phone suddenly. Then another.
You frowned slightly. '…Wha’ was dat?'
'ME knocking on my own damn door!'
Your brain stalled. '…Wait.'
Another loud bang echoed faintly through the apartment itself this time. You froze. Then heard it again.
Knock knock knock.
Your eyes widened slowly. 'Megan?'
'I HAVE BEEN OUT HERE FOR LIKE TWENTY MINUTES.'
You shot upright so fast you nearly tripped over the blanket. 'WAIT—YUH OUTSIDE?'
'Yes!'
Another knock. This time you heard it both through the phone and from the actual apartment door.
'I gave you my only key and—!'
'Oh hell—'
'I thought somebody killed you!'
You were already stumbling off the couch, nearly eating shit on the edge of the rug while scrambling toward the door.
'Baby, nobody kill meh!'
'HOW WOULD I KNOW THAT?!'
You yanked the lock open. The second the door swung inward, Megan practically fell into the apartment.
Cap shoved low over messy hair, oversized hoodie, sunglasses pushed up onto her head now despite it being night. Expression somewhere between furious and horrified and relieved all at once.
The moment she saw you standing there alive, her shoulders physically dropped. 'Oh my god.'
Then she immediately smacked your arm. Hard.
'Ow!'
'DON’T ‘ow’ ME.'
You stared at her in shock while she shoved past you into the apartment. 'I was this close to calling security!'
'Meg—'
'I literally thought somebody broke in and murdered you!'
You started laughing despite yourself.
That somehow offended her more. 'This is not funny!'
'Baby, yuh dramatic!'
'You were DEAD silent!'
Another shove against your shoulder before she suddenly grabbed your face with both hands like she needed visual confirmation you were actually breathing.
'You’re okay?'
The panic underneath her voice softened everything instantly.
Your chest tightened a little. 'Yeah.'
Her eyes searched your face carefully. Still checking, still worried. Then suddenly she yanked you into her arms so fast you barely had time to react.
'Megs—'
'I missed you.'
The words came out muffled against your neck as she squeezed you impossibly tight. And suddenly the weird loneliness from earlier disappeared completely.
The overwhelming city, the unfamiliar apartment, the strange ache of waking up alone in a country thousands of miles from home.
Gone. All because she was here now.
You buried your face against her hoodie automatically, laughing softly while holding her just as tightly. 'Yuh really thought ah dead?'
'You don’t understand how scary this looked from my perspective.'
You snorted against her shoulder. 'Baby, ah pass out watchin’ TikToks.'
'You weren’t answering anything!'
'Cause ah was unconscious.'
She pulled back just enough to glare at you. 'You scared me.'
The softness underneath it made your chest ache. 'Sorry.'
She looked at you for another second before her entire expression melted. Then she kissed you. Not rushed this time, not interrupted by schedules or airports. Just warm, slow and relieved.
Your hands slid into her hoodie instinctively while hers settled hard against your waist like she needed physical proof you were actually there.
When you finally separated, she immediately hugged you again. 'I’m sorry.' She mumbled against your shoulder.
Your eyebrows lifted. 'Fuh wha’?'
'For leaving you earlier.'
You frowned slightly. 'Meg—'
'I literally dropped you in my apartment then disappeared for hours.'
'Baby, yuh had work.'
'I still felt bad.'
You pulled back enough to cup her face gently. 'Hey.'
She looked at you immediately.
'Ah understand.'
'But still—'
'Yuh life busy,' You shrugged softly. 'Ah know dat already.'
Her expression crumpled slightly anyway. 'I kept thinking about you sitting here alone.'
You laughed quietly. 'Honestly? Ah sleep through most ah de emotional damage.'
That finally got a real laugh out of her. 'You’re impossible.'
'Nah, ah just tired.'
She reached up and brushed curls back from your forehead gently. 'You look exhausted.'
'Cause ah fly cross de planet.'
'That’s fair.'
For a moment neither of you moved. Just standing there in the middle of the apartment holding each other while distant LA traffic hummed outside.
Then Megan sighed dramatically. 'Okay.' She squeezed your hands. 'I have a plan.'
'Oh lord.'
'First, food.'
'Ah could eat.'
'Then,' she continued proudly, 'I’m kidnapping you.'
You blinked. 'Kidnappin’ meh?'
'Mhm.'
'Meg, dis technically already yuh apartment.'
'I know.' She grinned. 'But now I’m stealing you back from the couch.'
You snorted loudly. 'Yuh ridiculous.'
'And yet you love me.'
Unfortunately true.
She tugged you further into the apartment immediately like she physically couldn’t stop touching you now that she knew you were okay. Hand on your waist, thumb brushing your hoodie sleeve, constant contact.
You smiled faintly watching her. 'Yuh really miss meh dat bad?'
She looked at you like the answer was obvious. 'Yes.'
Your chest warmed instantly. And honestly? You kind of felt the exact same way.
---
The next few days blurred together in a strange mix of excitement, exhaustion, and adjustment.
LA still didn’t feel real.
Every morning you woke up slightly confused by the silence of Megan’s apartment compared to home. No crashing waves outside your window, no loud neighbours arguing two houses down, no smell of saltwater drifting through open windows.
Instead, traffic humming endlessly somewhere below, helicopters occasionally overhead. The faint smell of coffee shops and pavement after heat.
And somehow, despite how different everything was, you were starting to settle into it. Mostly because of Megan.
Even during the busiest parts of her schedule, she found ways to make you feel included in her life. If she had rehearsals all day, she’d call you during breaks. If she had interviews, she’d text you little updates under the table.
Megan🖤: They asked me my favourite food again
You: Doubles
Megan🖤: I said doubles :)
You: Good girl
She’d reacted to that message with approximately seventeen heart emojis.
By the fourth day, you’d already become a familiar sight around her apartment. After remembering to grab your suitcase from her car, your clothes were strewn all over the apartment, your headphones permanently around your neck.
And your actual skateboard? That thing never left your side. Megan had quickly learned that if you disappeared for more than five minutes, she only needed to look for the sound of wheels somewhere nearby.
Which was exactly why she grinned when she walked into the living room Friday morning and found you sitting cross-legged on the floor cleaning your bearings.
'There she is.'
You glanced up. 'Morning.'
She leaned against the doorway watching you for a second. Oversized hoodie, messy curls, tiny screwdriver between your fingers, completely focused.
Her expression softened immediately. 'You’re cute.'
You snorted. 'Ah literally fixin’ meh board.'
'Exactly.'
She walked over and sat beside you on the floor, immediately leaning against your shoulder.
You smiled faintly without looking up. 'Yuh clingy today.'
'I finally have a free day.' She mumbled. 'You’re stuck with me.'
'Terrible fate.'
'Mhm.'
She rested her chin on your shoulder while watching your hands work. Then, suddenly, she says, 'Get dressed.'
You paused. 'Eh?'
'I’m taking you places.'
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. 'Places?'
'Yes.'
'Dat sound ominous.'
'It’s not ominous.' She gasped dramatically. 'It’s romantic.'
'Dat somehow worse.'
She laughed and shoved your shoulder. An hour later, the two of you were out wandering through LA together.
And honestly? You felt like your brain never fully caught up all day. Everything was huge. The streets, the buildings, the amount of people. Even the grocery stores looked unnecessarily gigantic.
Megan found your constant quiet staring hilarious. 'You okay over there?'
You blinked slowly while looking up at another massive building. 'Why allyuh buildings so… tall?'
She burst out laughing. 'You sound offended.'
'Ah am offended.'
'You’re such a little island girl.'
'An’ proud.'
She smiled softly at that before automatically reaching for your hand again. It had become second nature already.
The entire day felt warm and easy as Megan took you everywhere. Little cafés tucked into quiet streets, bookstores she liked hiding in when life got overwhelming, a tiny rooftop garden she sometimes visited late at night because nobody recognized her there.
You listened carefully every time she explained why she loved somewhere.
'This place feels quiet.' She said softly while sitting beside you on the rooftop ledge later that afternoon. 'Like… nobody expects anything from me here.'
You looked over at her. The city stretched endlessly behind her, golden sunlight caught against her hair. And suddenly it hit you again that this was Megan’s life now. Busy, loud and constantly moving. No wonder she liked places that let her breathe.
You nudged her knee gently. 'Yuh deserve quiet sometimes.'
Her expression softened instantly. 'You make it quiet.'
Your chest warmed embarrassingly fast. 'Dat smooth.'
'It was true.'
You rolled your eyes while smiling anyway.
Later, she made you try matcha. Which immediately became the worst betrayal of the trip.
You stared at the green drink in horror after the first sip. 'Megan.'
She was already laughing. 'What?'
'Dis taste like chemically grass.'
She nearly choked. 'CHEMICALLY?'
'Yes!'
'It does not!'
'It taste like somebody blend lawn clippings wid battery acid.'
She bent over laughing so hard people nearby started staring. 'Oh my god stop—'
'Why it green?!'
'It’s tea!'
'It’s punishment.'
'You’re so dramatic!'
'An’ yuh drinkin’ grass happily!'
By the end of the afternoon, Megan was still randomly giggling about 'chemically grass.'
Which was how you ended up at the skate park. The sun had already started setting by the time she drove you there. Orange light stretched across the concrete. The air cooler now, softer.
You stepped out of the car slowly, immediately spotting the mostly empty park ahead. A couple skaters lingered near the far ramps, but otherwise it was quiet.
Your whole face lit up instantly.
Megan noticed immediately. 'There’s my girl.'
You looked back at her with the biggest grin she’d seen all day. 'Meggggg.'
'What?'
'You bring meh to a skate park.'
'You’ve been carrying that skateboard around LA like it’s your emotional support animal.'
'It kinda is.'
She laughed softly.
The second your wheels hit concrete, your whole energy changed. Megan noticed it immediately. You looked lighter here, more natural, more yourself.
The familiar sound of wheels against smooth concrete echoed softly through the park while the sky deepened gold overhead.
Megan sat on one of the benches nearby with her phone out almost immediately. 'Oh this lighting is GOOD.'
You groaned dramatically. 'Yuh paparazzi now?'
'Yes.'
'Ah need compensation.'
'You’ll receive one kiss per successful trick.'
You pointed accusingly. 'Manipulator.'
'Get skating, baby.'
You laughed and pushed off. And honestly? Megan couldn’t stop staring. You moved differently on a skateboard. Loose, confident. Like gravity affected you less than everybody else.
Your oversized Spider-Man hoodie fluttered slightly in the wind while you rolled effortlessly through the park. Smooth turns, quick kickflips, easy little spins. Nothing ridiculously flashy. But enough to make Megan gasp every couple minutes anyway.
'Oh my GOD.'
You landed cleanly and looked over. 'Wha’?'
'That was HOT.'
You nearly lost balance laughing. 'Meg!'
'I’m serious!'
'You embarrassing meh.'
'Good.'
She kept taking pictures constantly. Some while you skated, some when you weren’t paying attention. One while you sat adjusting your trucks with your tongue poking out slightly in concentration.
That one immediately became her favourite.
Eventually you rolled back toward her slightly breathless. She looked way too pleased with herself. 'You’re photogenic.'
'Nah.'
'Yes.'
'Nah.'
'Yes.'
You leaned down, grabbing her chin gently. 'Yuh biased.'
'Very.'
Then she glanced at the board. '…teach me again.'
Your eyebrows lifted instantly. 'Seriously?'
'Yes.'
'You sure?'
'No.'
You burst out laughing.
Still, a few minutes later, you were carefully helping her onto the skateboard. And immediately realised this was a terrible idea.
'Megan.'
'I’m trying!'
'Baby yuh knees lock.'
'Because I’m terrified!'
'You stiff like cardboard!'
'I DON’T TRUST THE GROUND.'
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped her. She stood shakily on the board gripping both your arms like her life depended on it.
Every tiny movement made her gasp dramatically. 'Ohmygodohmygod—'
'Yuh moving two inches.'
'THAT’S ENOUGH.'
You steadied her waist gently. 'Relax.'
'I can't!'
'Yes yuh can.'
'No because what if I fall?'
'Ah catch yuh.'
Her expression softened instantly hearing that. '…promise?'
You smiled softly. 'Promise.'
That finally calmed her enough to try again. A little, very little. She pushed forward shakily while clutching your shoulders. Then immediately panicked again when the board rolled slightly faster downhill. 'NOPE.'
You caught her instantly as she squealed and grabbed onto you. 'Megan!'
'I HATE THIS.'
'You dramatic!'
'I ALMOST DIED.'
'You move three feet!'
'That’s enough for me!'
You were laughing so hard your stomach hurt now. Eventually she gave up entirely. 'No more.'
'Already?'
'I retire.'
She stepped off the board dramatically before immediately sitting on it instead. Cross-legged, arms folded.
You blinked at her. '…wha’ yuh doin’?'
'If I can't skate…' She pointed downward seriously. '…I become passenger princess.'
You wheezed laughing. 'Megan.'
'Pull me.'
'Oh nah.'
'Yes.'
'No.'
She grabbed your hoodie sleeve instantly. 'Babyyyyy.'
You sighed dramatically. 'Yuh spoiled.'
'Yes.'
Still smiling, you grabbed the front of the board and started slowly pulling her across the park.
Megan looked entirely too pleased with herself sitting on the skateboard while being chauffeured around. 'This is nice actually.'
'You ridiculous.'
'I’m innovative.'
'You lazy.'
'Also true.'
The park lights flickered on overhead one by one as evening settled properly around you. Eventually you stopped near the edge of the park where the concrete sloped gently downward toward the path.
Megan looked at the hill, then at you. A dangerous smile appeared.
'No.'
'I didn’t even say anything!'
'Yuh face say enough.'
'What if—'
'No.'
'What if I just—'
'No.'
She pouted dramatically. Then thirty seconds later went down the hill anyway. Screaming the entire time.
'OHMYGOD—'
You nearly collapsed laughing while jogging after her. She reached the bottom safely, hair a mess, sunglasses crooked, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
'AGAIN.'
You stared at her. 'Yuh just scream like yuh dying.'
'It was FUN.'
By the time you finally left the skate park later that night, both of you were exhausted. Megan’s cheeks hurt from laughing. Your phone gallery was now full of blurry candid photos she’d taken all day.
And while walking back toward the car, Megan suddenly slipped her hand into yours quietly. The playful energy softened. She squeezed your fingers gently while looking ahead at the glowing city around you.
'…thank you for coming here.'
You looked over. Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable. 'I know its really different from home.'
You shrugged lightly. 'Yeh.'
'And I know it’s overwhelming sometimes.'
'A lil bit.'
She nodded slowly then looked at you. 'But I’m really happy you’re here.'
Something about the way she said it hit you right in the chest. Simple and honest. Like she meant every word completely. You smiled softly before leaning over and kissing her temple. 'Ah glad ah come too.'
And judging by the way Megan immediately melted into your side afterward, that was exactly the right thing to say.
---
The next morning started slow. You woke up tangled in blankets on Megan’s bed, sunlight spilling warmly through the apartment windows while somewhere outside the city was already alive.
Cars, sirens far away, people talking below the apartment building. LA never really seemed to sleep properly. You rubbed your face tiredly before reaching for your phone beside you to see three messages from Megan.
Your chest warmed instantly.
Megan🖤: good morningggg, im sorry i had to leave you in bed😭
Megan🖤: miss you already
Megan🖤: come to rehearsal later
You snorted softly.
A few seconds later another message appeared.
Megan🖤: im serious
Megan🖤: im on break at 1
Megan🖤: ill send the address
Then right on cue— Ping. A location dropped into the chat.
You stared at it for a second, absolutely meaningless to you. The roads in LA still looked like somebody spilled spaghetti across a map.
You typed back slowly.
You: yuh trust meh to find dat?
Megan🖤: no ❤️
Megan🖤: but i believe in you
You laughed quietly to yourself. A few more texts followed while you dragged yourself upright.
Megan🖤: also
Megan🖤: bring yourself
Megan🖤: i miss you
You: yuh literally sleep beside meh last night
Megan🖤: not enough
You shook your head smiling. Clingy. Very clingy.
By the time afternoon rolled around, you found yourself getting ready surprisingly carefully.
You pulled on an oversized Spider-Man hoodie you decided to steal from Megan's closet despite the LA warmth, headphones settling automatically around your neck. The tiny skateboard headphone holder clipped securely onto your belt loop like it always did.
Your skateboard rested beside the apartment door waiting patiently.
Before leaving, you hesitated. Then glanced toward the café across the street downstairs. '…chemical grass.'
You sighed dramatically. Because despite your personal hatred of matcha—Megan loved it.
Twenty minutes later you were skating through LA holding an iced matcha carefully in one hand.
And honestly? You kind of loved skating here. The sidewalks stretched forever compared to home. Smooth in some places, cracked in others. Palm trees swaying overhead while warm wind rushed through your curls.
Music played softly through your headphones while you rolled through unfamiliar streets. Everything still looked surreal, bright murals painted across buildings, street vendors, massive intersections filled with people crossing in every direction.
Occasionally somebody recognised your Spider-Man hoodie and pointed.
One guy skating past yelled, 'AYYYY SPIDEY!'
You yelled back instinctively. 'MY GUY.'
The breeze against your face made you smile automatically. No matter where you were in the world, that feeling never changed. The freedom of it, the movement, the almost flying sensation when you picked up enough speed.
Still, finding the rehearsal studio took forever. You got lost twice. One time completely accidentally skating into what looked suspiciously like private parking.
Another time ending up outside a dancewear store wondering why the building definitely did not look right. By the time you finally found the correct street, you were sweating slightly and muttering to yourself.
'Why allyuh roads built like puzzles…'
The rehearsal building itself was huge. Modern glass, tall windows with people constantly moving in and out carrying bags, equipment, coffees.
You slowed your skateboard near the entrance, suddenly feeling a little out of place again. Trinidad felt very far away in moments like this.
You adjusted your backpack strap nervously before stepping inside. Immediately cool air-conditioning hit your face.
A woman sitting near the front desk looked up and then instantly smiled. 'You must be Megan’s girlfriend.'
You blinked. '…eh?'
She laughed softly at your expression. 'She warned us you’d probably get lost.'
'Wow. Betrayal.'
The woman grinned. 'Third floor. Last studio on the right.'
'Thanks.'
'Oh—and she’s been checking the lobby cameras every five minutes.'
Your chest warmed embarrassingly fast. 'Dat sound like she got issues.'
'She absolutely does.'
You laughed softly while heading toward the elevators. The deeper you got into the building, the louder the music became. Bass vibrating faintly through the hallways, voices, counts being shouted, footsteps against floors.
By the time you reached the third floor, your nerves had fully kicked in. You suddenly became hyper-aware of yourself, your accent, your clothes, your skateboard, the matcha still clutched carefully in your hand.
Then you reached the studio door. Music blasted from inside. You pushed it open slowly and immediately six heads snapped towards you.
Silence.
Then, 'OH MY GOD.' Daniela screamed first.
'TRINIDAD!'
Before you could react properly, the entire room exploded into chaos. Lara practically launched herself across the floor, Sophia yelled something incomprehensible, Yoonchae gasped dramatically and started running too.
Within seconds you were completely swallowed in hugs.
'HI!'
'You actually came!'
'Why are you so tiny?!'
'How did you find this place alive?'
You laughed helplessly while trying not to spill the drink. 'WAIT THE MATCHA—'
'Protect the matcha!' Sophia yelled dramatically.
Finally the girls separated enough for you to breathe again. And there she was. Megan stood slightly behind the chaos, already smiling so hard it looked painful.
Her oversized rehearsal clothes hung loosely from her frame. Hair messy from practice, slightly sweaty, breathless. And looking at you like you’d personally fixed her entire week.
Your expression softened instantly. 'Hi, Megs.'
She walked toward you slowly this time. Less chaotic, more deliberate. The second she reached you, her hands slid immediately around your waist. And then she kissed you. Soft and warm while smiling halfway through it.
The girls behind her erupted instantly.
'BOOOOO.'
'GET A ROOM.'
'DISGUSTING.'
Megan ignored every single one of them. Especially once you lifted the iced matcha between you.
Her eyes widened. '…you got me matcha?'
You shrugged casually. 'Unfortunately.'
Her entire face melted. 'Oh my god.'
'She likes chemically grass.' Sophia explained solemnly to the room, clearly repeating the exact phrase Megan had told them after you once took a sip.
You pointed immediately. 'CAUSE IT TASTE LIKE GRASS.'
'It does not!' Megan protested while taking the drink.
'It absolutely does.'
'Your tastebuds are broken.'
'Yuh drink lawn.'
The girls burst out laughing again.
Megan took a sip immediately anyway and sighed happily. 'Marry me.'
You snorted. 'Dat all it take?'
'Apparently.'
Daniela folded her arms dramatically. 'Okay wow.'
Sophia pointed accusingly. 'Where are our drinks?'
'Yeah!' Lara added immediately. 'Favouritism!'
Megan clutched the matcha against her chest on instinct, eyes narrowing protectively. 'No.'
Daniela blinked. 'You’re not even pretending to share?'
'She brought this for me.' Megan said smugly. 'Specifically me.'
You immediately started laughing because there it was. That look, the unbearably pleased one.
Sophia pointed harder. 'Oh, she’s being annoying about it now.'
'Very.' Yoonchae agreed.
Megan ignored them completely, taking another sip while looking way too satisfied with herself. 'My girlfriend got me a drink,' she said casually. 'Not y’all.'
Manon gasped dramatically. 'WOW.'
'That’s evil.'
'That’s romance.' Megan corrected.
Daniela clutched her chest. 'Possessive.'
'Yes.' Megan replied instantly.
You nearly choked laughing. 'Megan!'
'What?' She looked completely unashamed. 'You're my girlfriend, its normal! You're supposed to like me best.'
Sophia groaned loudly. 'She’s power tripping over matcha.'
'And attention.' Yoonchae added.
Megan hugged the drink closer anyway. 'Both mine.'
'You’re acting like a dragon protecting treasure.' Yoonchae accused.
'Y/N is my treasure.'
You almost inhaled your own spit. 'Megs!'
The girls made loud gagging noises immediately.
'Too much.'
'Violently in love.'
'Actually sickening.'
Meanwhile, while everyone argued, Lara had quietly stolen your skateboard.
You noticed approximately thirty seconds later. '…wait.'
You looked around. Then spotted Daniela already wobbling dangerously across the studio floor on it.
'AY!'
'I’m skating!' Daniela yelled.
'Yuh murdering meh board!'
Sophia immediately grabbed onto Manon while laughing. 'She’s gonna die.'
'I GOT IT—'
Daniela did not got it. The board shot forward unexpectedly. She squealed then crashed gently into the mirrored wall with a dramatic 'OOF.'
The entire room exploded laughing. Even Daniela. 'Okay maybe skating is hard.'
'Told allyuh.'
Meanwhile Yoonchae crouched beside the skateboard examining the Spider-Man graphic again. 'I still think this is the coolest board ever.'
Your face brightened immediately. 'Right?!'
Megan looked over at you softly while you launched into excited explanation mode. Talking with your hands, accent getting thicker the more excited you became.
Explaining where you got the deck design done back home, how long you’d had the trucks, which wheels you liked best.
The girls listened while sitting around the studio floor during their break.
And Megan? Megan just watched you. Completely gone.
Manon noticed first. 'Oh my god.' She muttered quietly.
Sophia turned immediately. 'What?'
'She’s doing it again.'
Everyone looked toward Megan. Who immediately realised too late. '…what?'
Daniela pointed dramatically. 'You're staring.'
'I’m not staring.'
'You are literally heart-eye staring.'
Megan turned pink instantly while you blinked cluelessly between everyone.
'Wha’ happenin’?'
'Nothing.' Megan answered way too quickly.
Sophia burst out laughing. 'She missed you.'
Megan groaned dramatically and buried her face into your shoulder.
You laughed softly while wrapping an arm around her automatically. 'Baby, yuh see meh last night.'
'Not enough.'
'There she goes again.' Lara sighed.
Still, even while everyone teased, Megan stayed tucked against your side. Hands constantly finding you, playing with your fingers absentmindedly, leaning into your shoulder during conversations.
Like now that you were physically here in LA with her, she couldn’t stop reassuring herself you were real.
Eventually rehearsal started up again. The girls scattered toward positions while music started blasting through the giant speakers again. You sat cross-legged near the mirrors with Megan’s matcha beside you and your skateboard reclaimed safely in your lap.
Watching them rehearse was honestly kind of insane. The synchronisation, the energy, the sheer amount of work.
You’d always known Megan worked hard. But seeing it first hand was so different. Every move sharp, every transition precise, the sweat, the heavy breathing, repeated sections over and over until they got it perfect.
At one point Megan glanced toward you mid-routine and immediately smiled then missed the next count completely.
'MEGAN.' Sophia yelled instantly.
'Sorry!'
You burst out laughing while Megan pointed accusingly at you from across the studio. 'She's distracting me!'
'Me?!' You gasped dramatically.
'Yes!'
'You de one lookin’!'
The girls cackled.
---
The second rehearsal finally wrapped up, the studio dissolved into noise and movement all at once.
'Bye guys!'
'Drive safe!'
'Daniela, stop touching the skateboard!'
You laughed as the girls slowly scattered towards their respective cars, voices echoing through the parking garage while Megan’s fingers slipped naturally through yours.
Exhaustion had settled warmly into your chest. Not in a bad way, just full.
Full from seeing Megan all day, full from hearing the girls scream your name the second you walked into the studio, full from Sophia nearly falling over trying to skateboard backwards, full from Daniela trying to do a kickflip and almost launching herself into a speaker.
Your cheeks still hurt from laughing.
Traffic hummed around you while your skateboard rolled lazily beneath your other hand, wheels clicking softly against cracks in the pavement.
LA still felt strange. Not a bad kind of strange. Just unreal. Everything looked cinematic somehow. Palm trees swaying over giant roads, neon signs glowing before the sun had even fully set, people walking around in outfits that looked like they belonged in music videos.
And somehow Megan fit into it perfectly. Meanwhile you still felt like a skater from Trinidad accidentally dropped into a movie set.
Megan glanced over at you again, then paused.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. '…Wait.'
You looked at her immediately. 'Wha’?'
She pointed downward dramatically. 'Are those my sweatpants?'
You blinked once. Then looked down at yourself like you genuinely forgot what you were wearing. '…Maybe.'
'MAYBE?!'
You started laughing instantly. 'Meg, is literally just sweatpants.'
'My sweatpants.'
You shrugged innocently. 'An’?'
Her jaw dropped dramatically like you’d committed a personal betrayal. 'You’re wearing my favourite pair!'
You snorted. 'Yuh have like fifty favourite pairs.'
'Not the point.'
You pointed accusingly at the oversized Spider-Man hoodie hanging off her frame. 'An’ yuh wearing MY hoodie.'
That shut her up immediately.
'The same hoodie yuh thief from Trinidad, by de way.'
'I did not steal it.'
'Yuh literally pack it in yuh suitcase without tellin’ meh.'
'Because you left it at my place!'
'IN MY OWN COUNTRY.'
Megan burst out laughing. Then looked at you again, really looked at you.
The sweatpants hanging slightly too long on you, your own oversized Spider-Man hoodie layered beneath another jacket, headphones around your neck automatically, tiny skateboard headphone holder clipped against your belt loop.
The wheels of your board clicking softly when you walked.
Megan physically grabbed her chest. 'Oh my god.'
You sighed immediately. 'Here she go.'
'You wearing my clothes is doing something to me psychologically.'
You burst out laughing. 'Megan!'
'I’m serious!' She pointed at you helplessly. 'You look like my girlfriend.'
'Ah AM yuh girlfriend!'
'I know, but now you look EXTRA like it.'
You wheezed laughing while she continued staring at you like she was actively fighting for her life.
'The sweatpants are too big on you.' She complained emotionally.
'Cause yuh taller dan meh.'
'And you still somehow made them look cute.'
'Megs—'
'And the headphones!'
'There it is.'
'And the little skateboard thing!'
'Every single time.'
'I can’t help it.'
'You dramatic.'
'I’m in love with you. Same thing.'
Your entire face warmed instantly.
She grinned triumphantly. 'There it is.'
'Stop lookin’ at meh so hard.'
'Never.'
You rolled your eyes affectionately and nudged her shoulder. You didn’t think you’d ever fully get used to being loved this loudly.
---
By the time you and Megan finally made it back to her apartment, both of you looked half-dead. Megan parked lazily in her usual spot underground before turning the engine off with a groan.
'My legs don’t work anymore.'
'Yuh literally dance fuh a living.'
'Exactly. Occupational hazard.'
You snorted softly while climbing out of the car, stretching your arms above your head for a second after the drive back.
The parking garage was quieter now. Just the low hum of distant traffic echoing faintly through the concrete. You adjusted your skateboard beneath your arm and started walking around the hood of the car—only to stop immediately.
Megan was standing there waiting for you. Arms crossed, expression serious.
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. 'Wha’?'
'I’m tired.'
'…Okay?'
She stepped closer. Then held her arms out toward you expectantly. 'Carry me.'
You stared at her. 'Megan.'
'I’m exhausted.'
'You literally walk less dan ten steps.'
'I simply cannot go on.'
You burst out laughing instantly. 'Yuh ridiculous.'
She just pouted with her big eyes, tiny frown, completely shameless. And unfortunately for you—it worked immediately.
You groaned dramatically. 'Nah, doh do dat face.'
'Please?'
'Megan…'
'One little carry.'
You sighed like this was the hardest decision of your life while she tried very badly to hide her smug smile. 'Yuh manipulative, oui.'
'And yet it’s still working.'
'Mhm.'
She grinned triumphantly the second you stepped closer. Before lifting her, though, you grabbed the front of her hoodie gently and pulled her into a kiss first.
Soft and sleepy but warm from the long day.
Megan melted into it instantly, hands sliding up your arms while she smiled against your mouth. 'You’re weak.' She mumbled happily.
'Yuh still not gettin’ carried yet.'
'Yes I am.'
You laughed quietly under your breath. Then finally bent slightly and lifted her onto your back. Megan immediately wrapped herself around you with a victorious little noise.
'There we go.'
'Lord help meh.'
'You love me.'
'Unfortunately.'
'Liar.'
You smiled despite yourself while carrying her toward the elevator, skateboard tucked awkwardly beneath one arm while Megan stayed attached to you like a koala.
By the time the elevator doors closed, her face was already buried against your neck again. Half-asleep, completely content.
And every now and then she’d press tiny absentminded kisses against your jaw like she physically couldn’t stop herself.
By the time you finally made it upstairs and through the apartment door, both of you had gone quiet in that comfortable, sleepy kind of way, the tension from the day seemed to just melt off both of you immediately.
Home. Well, her home. But it didn’t feel unfamiliar anymore.
Your shoes ended up kicked near the couch within seconds. Your skateboard rolled beside the wall automatically. Megan’s hoodie was still abandoned over the armrest from earlier.
Your presence had slowly started spreading across the apartment without either of you noticing.
Megan slid off your back and noticed your expression immediately. 'You okay?'
You looked around slowly. Then smiled a little. 'Yeh.'
'You got quiet.'
You shrugged lightly, 'Jus’ thinkin’.'
'About?'
You paused near the hallway, glancing back toward the living room. Towards the couch where you’d accidentally passed out your first night here, towards the kitchen where you’d started leaving snacks you liked, towards the balcony where the LA skyline stretched endlessly outside.
Then finally back at her. '…Dis place doh feel strange anymore.'
Megan’s expression softened instantly.
You laughed quietly under your breath. 'First day yuh leave meh here, ah thought ah go lose meh mind.'
Her face immediately crumpled with guilt. 'Baby—'
'Nah, nah,' you interrupted quickly, smiling. 'Ah good now.'
She still looked guilty anyway. You walked back over and stood between her knees where she’d dropped onto the couch, resting your hands lightly on her shoulders.
'Seriously.'
Her hands settled around your waist automatically.
'Ah understand yuh life now,' you continued gently. 'De schedule, de rehearsals, de chaos.'
She looked up at you quietly.
'And honestly?' You smiled softly. 'Ah kinda proud ah yuh.'
Her expression melted so fast it physically hurt to look at. 'You’re making me emotional.'
'Yuh emotional all de time.'
'True.'
She leaned forward dramatically until her forehead pressed against your stomach. 'I missed you so much before you came here.'
Your fingers slid gently through her hair. 'Ah know.'
'And now I don’t want you to leave.'
That made your chest ache a little. You looked down at her. '…Meg.'
She tilted her head up slightly. And there it was again. That terrifying amount of love sitting openly in her eyes.
You swallowed softly. Because lately, you’d been thinking about something dangerous. Something bigger than a vacation. LA, living here with her.
The thought had been circling your head for days now. Every time you woke up beside her, every time she reached for your hand automatically in public, every time the girls acted like you already belonged here.
You hadn’t said it out loud yet though, not properly.
Maybe because saying it made it real. Maybe because it scared you. Maybe because Trinidad was home.
But Megan? Megan was starting to feel like home too.
Summary: After finally confessing, you and Sophia fall into an easy, all-consuming love—realising the one you needed was beside you all along.
Pairings: Sophia Laforteza x reader
Warning(s): tooth rotting fluff
A/N: Part 3! final part to this little mini series. enjoy :)
i recommend reading the first 2 parts if you havent already just so this one kinda makes sense... i wont hold it against you if you dont... maybe
Sophia wakes up slowly. Not all at once. Just that gentle drift back into consciousness—warmth, quiet, the faint light pressing through closed eyelids.
It hits her before she even opens her eyes. The weight of you beside her, the warmth, the steady rhythm of your breathing.
For a second, she doesn’t move, she doesn’t open her eyes. Because she’s scared that if she does, it might not be real.
But then you shift slightly in your sleep. A soft exhale leaving your lips and Sophia’s eyes open instantly. You’re there, right there next to her. Close enough that she can see the faint crease in your brow, the way your hair falls slightly over your face, the soft rise and fall of your chest.
Her heart actually stutters. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t dare to. She just watches you. Like if she looks away, even for a second, something might change.
You kissed her.
The thought comes quietly. Still a little unbelievable, still something she hasn’t fully caught up to.
Her gaze softens as her chest tightens in that overwhelming, aching way that’s almost too much to handle.
Because she remembers the alley, the way you pulled her, the way you said 'I’m sure.'
A small, disbelieving smile tugs at her lips.
'How did I manage that…' She whispers under her breath.
Not loud enough to wake you but just enough to let it out.
Carefully and ever so slowly, she shifts closer. It’s instinct, like her body just knows where it wants to be now.
She slides an arm around you, tentative at first like she’s still checking if she’s allowed, if this is okay. You don’t wake, you don’t pull away. If anything, you lean into it in your sleep.
That’s it, that’s all it takes for something in her to completely melt. Her hold tightens just a little. She presses her face into the side of your head for a second, breathing you in. Breathing in the warmth, the comfort, her home.
Her heart feels too full. Like it doesn’t quite fit in her chest anymore.
She pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you again. And then without overthinking it, she leans in and places a soft kiss to your temple.
Then another on your cheek this time, lingering just a second longer. And then another closer to your jaw.
She pauses, watching for any sign you might wake.
You don’t. Still soft, still peaceful, still hers—no, not hers. But… here. With her.
Her lips brush yours next. Its featherlight, its testing.
You shift slightly. A quiet hum leaving you. But you don’t wake.
Sophia freezes for a second. Then exhales slowly. A tiny smile pulling at her mouth. 'Okay,' she whispers to herself. 'Still fully asleep.'
There’s something so fond in her voice it almost hurts.
Her hand comes up gently, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. Her fingers linger, tracing softly along your cheek. Like she’s memorising it.
'I waited so long for you.' She murmurs quietly.
The words slip out before she can stop them. Soft, honest, bare.
She presses her forehead lightly against yours. Eyes closing for just a second. 'And you… kissed me. Just like that.'
She lets out a quiet, breathy laugh in disbelief. Her arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you closer into her chest. Not possessive, just needy.
'You have no idea what you do to me.' She whispers.
And that’s when you stir. It’s small at first, a slight shift, a long breath. Your hand moving slightly against her.
Sophia stills instantly, eyes snapping open.
You blink slowly. Confused and still half-asleep. And the first thing you see is her, close, eyes wide like she’s been caught doing something.
You blink again, processing.
Your voice comes out rough. Heavy with sleep. '…Hi.'
Sophia freezes for half a second. Then her entire face warms.
'Hi.' She says back, softer than she intended.
There’s a pause as neither of you moves away. You’re still tucked into her arms, her hand still resting against your face.
You glance at her, then down, then back up again. A slow smile spreading across your lips. 'Were you… kissing me?' You mumble.
Sophia’s brain short-circuits. 'No—' She blurts out way too fast, way too defensive.
You raise a brow slightly, sleepy and amused, 'You were.'
She huffs quietly, looking away for a second, flustered. 'You were asleep.' She mutters like that explains everything.
You smile softer this time, warmer, 'Do it again.' You whisper.
She looks back at you, eyes flicking between yours searching.
'You’re awake now.' She says, voice quieter and more careful.
You nod slightly whilst not breaking eye contact. 'Yeah... I still want you to.'
That does it. Any hesitation she had is gone in an instant. Her hand cups your cheek properly this time, more certain, more grounded. And she leans in.
The kiss is soft. Slower than last night but somehow its more intimate. You melt into it instantly, like you were waiting for it.
Your hand comes up to her wrist, holding her there. She deepens it slightly, carefully. Still checking, still making sure.
But when you respond, when you lean into her fully, she relaxes into it completely. Her other arm wraps around you again, pulling you flush against her. Like she doesn’t want even a sliver of space between you.
And this time, neither of you is rushing. It’s not desperate, not overwhelming. It's warm, soft, lingering. The kind of kiss that says everything you haven’t said yet.
When you finally pull back, its slow and reluctant as your foreheads rest together, breathing shared.
Sophia lets out a quiet breath, almost shaky, 'I can’t believe this is real.' She admits softly.
You smile against her, eyes still half-lidded. 'It is.' You murmur. 'You’ve got me now.'
Her heart stutters again, harder this time as her arms tighten around you instinctively. Pulling you closer like she needs to feel that sentence physically.
'Good.' She whispers.
And then because she can, because you’re here, because you let her, she kisses you again. Just because she wants to.
And you kiss her back without hesitation because it’s already become second nature.
---
By the time you both make it to the kitchen, the dorm is already alive. Not loud, just awake.
The low hum of the kettle, the faint clink of mugs, someone scrolling on TikTok.
Lara is perched on the counter, sipping coffee like she owns the place.
Manon is at the table, calm as ever, reading something on her phone.
Yoonchae is tucked into a chair with a blanket draped over her shoulders, still waking up.
Daniela is leaning against the counter, aggressively stirring her coffee like it personally offended her. Megan is… somewhere. Probably still half-asleep somewhere.
No one notices you at first. Which is good. Because you’re trying to act normal. You move around the kitchen like you always do. Grab a pan, turn on the stove, open the fridge.
It's routine. It's safe. It's normal.
Sophia lingers a step behind you, just watching. She hasn’t touched you yet, not since you left the room and it’s taking everything in her not to.
You’re reaching into the fridge, pulling out the bacon, when Lara finally glances over.
She squints. '…Why do you both look like that?'
You pause as you glance over. 'Like what?'
She gestures vaguely between you and Sophia. 'Like you just… had a life-altering experience.'
You shrug, closing the fridge. 'We just woke up.'
'Mhm.' Lara says, unconvinced.
You start laying the bacon into the pan. It sizzles immediately. The sound fills the space. It grounds you, so you focus on that. On the heat, the timing, the smell.
Which is why you don’t notice Sophia moving until her arms wrap around your waist.
You freeze slightly as she presses in behind you, chest warm against your back, her chin hovering near your shoulder. Careful and testing once again.
The entire kitchen goes silent.
Your brain takes a second to catch up, to process. And then you fully relax into it.
Your hand comes up, absentmindedly resting over hers where they’re clasped around your waist. A soft, unconscious gesture. Like you don’t even think about letting go.
Behind you, Sophia exhales quietly, relieved. Like she wasn’t entirely sure you’d be okay with it.
'Morning.' She murmurs softly, close to your ear.
You tilt your head slightly toward her. A small smile pulling at your lips. 'Morning.'
Lara chokes on her coffee. 'Oh my—' she coughs, pointing at you both. 'No. No. What is that?!'
Daniela turns, sees the position you're both in and freezes. '…Are you serious right now?' She says flatly.
You glance over your shoulder slightly. 'What?'
Sophia doesn’t move, doesn’t even attempt to let go. If anything, her hold tightens just a little.
'You’re cooking,' Daniela says slowly. 'Why is she… attached to you?'
You shrug lightly, flipping the bacon with one hand. 'She’s comfortable.'
Sophia hides a smile against your shoulder.
Yoonchae is staring. Eyes wide and soft. 'That’s… really cute.' She says quietly.
'It’s too damn early for this.' Daniela mutters.
Megan peeks her head up from the top of the couch, see's the situation and blanks.
'Oh.' She says.
Then, after a second, 'Oh.'
Manon doesn’t even look surprised. She just hums softly, like she expected this outcome.
You plate the bacon calmly. Sophia does not let go, not even a little. You shift slightly to grab a plate. She moves with you, still attached.
You don’t even question it, you just keep going. Moving onto the eggs. Crack, whisk, pour. All while she’s still wrapped around you like she belongs there.
At some point, your hand drifts back again, brushing along her arm, squeezing lightly. A quiet reassurance, a silent stay.
She fully melts.
'You’re both disgusting.' Daniela says.
'You’re just jealous.' Lara shoots back immediately.
'Of what? Being immobilised while cooking?'
You smile faintly to yourself as they continue to go back and forth.
Once everything’s plated, you turn off the stove and carefully shift.
Sophia finally loosens her grip just enough for you to move. You step toward the fridge to open it. And before you can even reach for the juice, she’s back.
Arms around you again like a magnet. Like she physically can’t not.
This time, you laugh softly. 'You’re not even trying to be subtle.' You murmur.
'Don’t want to be.' She replies, voice quiet but certain.
Your heart does something dangerous at that.
You grab the juice, close the fridge door and turn slightly in her hold. Instead of pulling away, you lean into her, properly this time. Your arms come up around her shoulders all while still holding the juice.
She physically tries to pull you apart by grabbing your arm. 'Separate. Immediately.'
You resist instantly, instinctively as your grip tightens around Sophia. You lean into her. 'No.' You say simply.
Daniela pauses and looks at you, really looks at you. And that’s when she sees it. The pout. Its small, subtle, but very real.
Your brows are drawn just slightly, your lips turned down, clinging just a bit tighter like you’ve been wronged.
Her face drops. 'Oh, come on.' She groans.
You don’t move, you don’t let go. Sophia doesn’t either. She’s gone completely still beside you, like she’s trying not to laugh.
Daniela looks between you both, then throws her hands up. 'You know what? Fine. Be like that.'
She grabs her coffee aggressively. 'Some of us are single,' she mutters on the way out. 'And don’t need to see this at 9 a.m.'
Her door slams lightly down the hall.
There’s a beat of silence.
'Did her boyfriend break up with her?' You ask, turning your head slightly, still tucked into Sophia.
'She's being dramatic, she misses her boyfriend.' Megan says, very seriously.
Lara nods. 'Deeply.'
You hum softly in understanding. Sophia presses a quiet kiss to your shoulder like she’s very content with the outcome of all of this.
Yoonchae giggles softly into her mug. Manon finally looks up fully, eyes flicking between you and Sophia.
'You two are going to be insufferable.' She says calmly.
You smile, still wrapped up together. 'Probably.' You admit.
Sophia presses her face lightly into your shoulder again, completely content.
And for once, you don’t feel embarrassed. You don’t pull away, you just stay with her, exactly like this.
---
Breakfast does not stay peaceful. Not even close. It starts normal enough though. Plates are passed around, chairs scrape, coffee gets refilled.
You and Sophia sit next to each other at the table—not touching for exactly thirty seconds. Then your knee bumps hers, then her hand finds yours under the table.
By the time Lara looks up again, you’re both quietly sharing a piece of toast like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She slams her mug down. 'Nope.'
Everyone looks at her.
'No. We’re not doing this,' she says, pointing between the two of you. 'You don’t get to just sit there all soft and domestic without explaining anything.'
Daniela, who's come back after realising she didn't eat anything, leans forward immediately. 'Exactly. I want a full breakdown. Timeline, event, emotional arcs.'
'Emotional arcs?' Megan repeats, amused.
'Yes,' Daniela says. 'I need context.'
You glance at Sophia. She glances back. Neither of you lets go of the other’s hand.
'It’s not that deep.' You say casually.
'It is absolutely that deep.' Lara snaps.
Manon sets her fork down calmly. 'We will be getting answers.'
Yoonchae nods softly. 'Please.'
Sophia exhales quietly beside you, thumb brushing over your knuckles. You squeeze her hand once.
'Okay,' you say. 'Relax.'
'No,' Daniela says immediately. 'We won’t.'
And then Lara stands up abruptly. 'Separate them.'
'What?' You laugh.
'Separate. Now.' She repeats, already moving. Daniela immediately joins her.
'No—hey—' You start, but it’s too late.
They physically try to pull you apart. You instinctively tighten your grip on Sophia’s hand as she does the same.
'Absolutely not.' You say, leaning back slightly.
'You’re making it worse.' Daniela says, tugging your arm.
'No, you are making it worse.' You shoot back.
Sophia is trying not to laugh next to you.
'This is ridiculous.' Manon says, though she’s clearly entertained.
Eventually, after way too much effort, they give up on separating you physically.
'Fine,' Lara huffs. 'Couch. Both of you. Now.'
You and Sophia exchange a look then stand, still holding hands.
'Unbelievable.' Daniela mutters.
A few minutes later, you’re both seated on the couch. Side by side, close. Your hands still laced together between you.
The others form a semi-circle like it’s an intervention.
Megan leans forward. 'Start from when she went to check on you.'
You inhale softly as your thumb brushes against Sophia’s again.
'Okay.' You say quietly.
And then you tell them. About the date, the waiting, the texts, the silence, the way your voice dips slightly when you talk about sitting there alone. About how the waitress looked at you, how you stayed longer than you should have.
The room goes quieter. Yoonchae frowns softly, Megan’s expression tightens. Even Daniela looks less aggressive now.
'That’s still so messed up.' She mutters.
You shrug lightly. 'It was just… embarrassing,' you admit. 'More than anything.'
Sophia’s grip on your hand tightens just a little. You feel it.
And then you keep going.
'But then I came home,' you say. 'And she—' you glance at Sophia briefly '—she was just… there.'
Sophia looks down flustered.
'She stayed.' You add softly.
Manon watches that moment carefully. 'She always does.' She says quietly.
Sophia doesn’t respond. But her ears turn red.
You smile faintly then continue. 'And then there was that phone call.' You say.
Daniela perks up immediately. 'Yes. That was an iconic moment.'
You laugh softly.
'She didn’t even hesitate,' you say. 'Just answered it. And the way she spoke to them—'
You shake your head slightly. 'It did something to me.'
Lara raises a brow. 'It did something?'
You nod slowly. 'My heart was going insane,' you admit. 'Like—proper skipping. I couldn’t even think straight.'
Sophia freezes slightly beside you. You glance at her then back at the girls.
'And I know this sounds ridiculous,' you add, a little more sheepish now, 'but it was really hot.'
Silence.
Megan blinks, Yoonchae’s eyes widen and Daniela leans back like she’s just been hit.
'You’re joking.' She says.
'No.' You say honestly.
Sophia’s face is burning now. She tries to hide it, but she’s failing miserably.
'It was the way she said it,' you continue, now fully in it. 'Like—calm, but firm? And she wasn’t even looking at me, but I knew it was for me?'
'Okay—' Lara starts.
'And when she said I was out of their league—' You add.
'Okay—!' Megan says louder.
'And the way she just—blocked them without even asking—'
'We get it!' Daniela cuts in quickly.
'No, but—' you continue, a little too honest now, 'it made me realise I’ve been looking in the wrong direction this whole time. Because she’s been right there. The whole time. And I just—'
You pause, then let out a small breath, like you’ve fully given up on filtering yourself.
'And then the gallery.' You add.
That gets their attention again. Lara lowers herself slightly, suspicious. 'What gallery?'
You glance at Sophia, a soft smile tugging at your lips.
'She took me out. To that exhibition I was talking about. The one with the installations and the photography pieces—'
Yoonchae perks up immediately. 'Wait, you went?'
You nod. 'Yeah. She remembered I wanted to go.'
Sophia looks away instantly, cheeks heating.
'It’s not even really her thing,' you continue, voice gentler now. 'But she still came. And she listened to me talk about everything—like, properly listened.'
Manon’s gaze softens slightly. Megan leans forward a bit. Daniela crosses her arms, but she’s listening.
'And then—' you exhale quietly, 'as we were leaving, we ran into them... the one who stood me up.'
The room stills.
'You’re joking.' Daniela says.
You shake your head. 'They were there. With someone else.'
A flicker of something uncomfortable passes through the room as Sophia’s hand tightens around yours.
You notice. Your thumb brushes over her knuckles in response.
'And I didn’t even want to talk to them,' you admit. 'I was ready to just walk past, leave and pretend I didn’t see them.'
You pause then glance at Sophia again.
'But they said something.' You say.
Sophia exhales sharply through her nose.
'Something stupid,' you add. 'And before I could even react—' You let out a small, disbelieving laugh. 'She just… went off.'
Daniela’s eyes widen. 'Again?'
You nod, smiling now. 'Calm and controlled. But—' you shake your head slightly '—sharp. Like she knew exactly what to say and exactly how to say it.'
Sophia groans quietly, covering part of her face. 'You don’t have to—'
'No, I do.' You cut in gently.
You turn slightly toward her. Just a little.
'Because it mattered.' You say.
She stills as you look back at the others.
'It did the same thing,' you admit, a little quieter now. 'That same stupid thing to my heart.'
Megan presses her lips together, trying not to smile. Yoonchae looks like she might actually melt and Manon just watches, understanding settling in her expression.
Daniela points between you both. 'You’re both ridiculous.'
You shrug lightly. 'Maybe,' you say. 'But I think that’s when it really clicked for me.'
Your voice softens again. 'That I didn’t want to keep looking for something… when it was already right in front of me.'
There’s a beat. A soft, heavy one.
'Alright,' Lara says, standing up abruptly. 'That’s enough.'
'Yeah,' Daniela agrees, also standing. 'We didn't need that level of detail.'
Yoonchae hides her face in her hands, flustered but smiling.
Megan is laughing softly. 'You’re both gone.'
Manon stands last, shaking her head slightly. 'Completely gone.'
'We’re leaving,' Lara announces. 'Before this gets worse.'
'It will.' Daniela confirms.
One by one, they disperse. Muttering, laughing, shaking their heads. And just like that—It’s quiet.
You blink. '…Did I say too much?' You ask.
Sophia turns to you slowly. Her expression is something else entirely. Soft, warm and a little stunned.
'No.' She says quietly.
And then before you can react, she moves. One second she’s beside you, the next she’s in your lap.
You inhale sharply. 'Soph—' You start.
Her hands come up to your face. Gentle, but certain.
'I’ve been waiting to hear that.' She murmurs.
And then she kisses you. It’s immediate, warm and intentional. Not hesitant like before, not unsure. Certain.
Your hands come up to her waist instinctively, holding her there. She leans into you fully, one hand sliding into your hair, the other resting against your jaw.
The kiss deepens. Slow at first, then more insistent.
You respond without thinking and pull her closer, tilting your head just enough to meet her properly. A soft sound escapes her—half sigh, half laugh—and it sends a rush straight through you.
Your fingers tighten slightly at her waist.
She shifts in your lap, settling more comfortably, like she plans on staying there. Like she belongs there.
When she pulls back, it’s only barely. Forehead resting against yours. Breath mingling.
'You have no idea what you do to me.' She whispers.
You smile softly, still a little breathless. 'I think I’m starting to.' You murmur.
She huffs a quiet laugh then kisses you again. And this time you don’t hold back at all.
Somewhere down the hall a door shuts.
'I CALLED IT.' Lara’s voice echoes faintly.
Neither of you pulls away, neither of you cares. Because right now, its just you and her, and everything you’re finally letting yourselves feel.
---
It doesn’t happen all at once. There’s no big moment where everything suddenly shifts and you know.
It’s quieter than that, softer. It’s in the days that follow. In the days where you stop doing things alone. Not because you can’t. But because you don’t want to anymore.
Grocery runs turn into 'I’ll come with you.' Quick errands become 'Wait, I’ll grab my shoes.' Even the smallest things—walking to the corner shop, taking the bins out, grabbing coffee— Sophia is there.
Always there.
At first, you notice it in passing. The way she hovers near the door when you grab your jacket.
The way she asks, casual but hopeful, 'Do you want company?' And every time you say yes. Because why wouldn’t you?
Because it feels right. And then it becomes normal.
Your hand finding hers without thinking, her fingers brushing against yours as you walk, her stepping slightly closer when someone passes too near.
Little things. But they stack, they build, they settle into your chest like something steady. Something real.
A few days later, you’re walking together again. It’s late afternoon. The sky is soft, fading into that golden-blue that only lasts for a little while.
There’s a light breeze, just enough to make you tug your sleeves down slightly. Sophia notices immediately.
She doesn’t say anything. Just reaches over and tugs her hoodie off.
You blink. 'Soph—'
She’s already draping it over your shoulders. 'You’re cold.' She says simply.
'I’m fine—'
'You’re not.' She replies, softer this time.
You huff a quiet laugh. But you don’t take it off because it’s warm, because it smells like her, because she’s looking at you like she wants you to keep it.
'Thank you.' You murmur.
She shrugs lightly. But her ears go a little pink.
You end up stopping at a small street vendor. Nothing fancy. Just one of those tucked-away places that always smells better than anywhere else.
You stand side by side while ordering. Close enough that your shoulders brush.
Sophia glances at you. 'You picking?'
You tilt your head. 'You trust me?'
She smiles. 'Always.'
Your heart does that thing again. That soft, sinking feeling.
You order for both of you. Something simple, something warm.
You take the food and step aside, finding a small ledge to lean against.
For a while you just eat. Quiet and comfortable as the city moves around you. People passing, cars in the distance, someone laughing somewhere nearby.
But it feels separate. Like it’s not touching you, like you’re in your own little space.
Sophia nudges your shoulder lightly. 'You’re smiling.'
You blink. 'Am I?'
She nods, watching you carefully. 'What’s going on in that head of yours?' She asks.
You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to tell her. But because you don’t know how to say it without it sounding like a lot.
But then again, with her, it never feels like too much. You look down at your food for a second. Then back at her.
'Just… thinking.' You say quietly.
She tilts her head slightly, waiting. Not pushing.
'About how things are different now.' You continue.
She stills just a little. 'Good different?' She asks softly.
You smile. 'Yeah,' you say. 'Really good.'
There’s a pause, the kind that isn’t awkward, just full.
You shift slightly, turning more toward her. 'You’ve kind of… ruined doing things alone for me.' You admit.
She blinks. 'Ruined?'
You nod. A small, almost shy smile pulling at your lips. 'Yeah. Because now when you’re not there, it feels… off.'
Her breath catches just slightly.
You shrug, like you’re trying to play it down.
'Like grocery shopping isn’t as fun. Or walking somewhere isn’t as nice. Or—' you huff a small laugh '—I don’t know. Everything just feels better when you’re there.'
Sophia is staring at you now. Really staring. Her food is completely forgotten in her hand.
'You mean that?' She asks quietly.
You meet her eyes, no hesitation this time. 'Of course I do.'
That does something to her. You see it in the way her shoulders drop slightly, in the way her expression softens. Like she’s been holding something in.
And it just… loosened.
'I was worried.' She admits.
You frown slightly. 'About what?'
She looks down for a second then back at you.
'That I was… a bit too much,' she says. 'Always asking to come with you. Always wanting to be around you.'
Your heart twists.
'Soph.' You say softly.
She shakes her head a little. 'I didn’t want to overwhelm you.'
You step closer without thinking. Your hand finds hers.
'You don’t.' You say gently.
She looks up at you again.
'If anything,' you continue, 'I think I’d be a little upset if you stopped.'
Her lips part slightly. 'Really?'
You nod. 'Really.'
There’s a few moments of silence before you both laugh a little. Soft, nervous, but warm.
'We’re kind of pathetic.' She murmurs.
You grin. 'A little bit.'
She shakes her head, smiling.
Then it quiets again. But this time it feels different. It feels heavier, like something is sitting just beneath the surface. Waiting.
You feel it. She feels it. And neither of you looks away.
'I think…' You start. Then stop.
She watches you patiently.
'No, it’s stupid.' You say quickly.
'Hey.' She says gently.
Your eyes flick back to hers.
'Nothing you say is stupid.' She adds.
And that’s it, that’s the push.
You inhale softly. 'Okay.' You say.
Your fingers tighten slightly around hers.
'This might be fast.' You admit.
Her heart visibly stutters. You can see it in the way she stills. But she doesn’t pull away.
'But I don’t think I care.' You continue.
Her voice is barely there. 'Okay…'
You swallow. 'Because I’ve been thinking about it,' you say. 'A lot. Probably too much.'
A small, nervous laugh.
'And I keep coming back to the same thing.'
She’s not breathing properly now. 'Which is…'
You hesitate for just a second. Then blurt out, 'I think I’m in love with you.'
Silence.
Not awkward, not heavy. Just complete stillness.
Sophia blinks. Once and then twice, like she needs to process it properly.
'You think?' She echoes faintly.
You huff a small laugh.
'Okay, no,' you correct yourself softly. 'I know I am.'
That’s when it hits her fully. Her eyes soften instantly. Something warm and overwhelmed and so real flooding her expression.
'You are?' She whispers.
You nod. 'Yeah.'
Your voice is quieter now, more vulnerable. 'You make everything feel easier. And calmer. And better. And I don’t want to do anything without you anymore.'
Her eyes shine slightly.
'I didn’t even realise when it happened,' you admit. 'it just—did.'
There’s a pause before she laughs. Soft and breathless. Not because it’s funny. But because she doesn’t know what else to do with all of it.
'I’ve been in love with you for months.' She says.
Your breath catches. 'Months?' You repeat.
She nods a little embarrassed, but also a little proud.
'Yeah,' she murmurs. 'I just didn’t think I’d ever get to say it like this.'
Your chest feels too full.
'You idiot.' You whisper, smiling.
She grins back. 'I know.'
And then you step closer, close enough that there’s no space left between you. Your hand slides up to her face as her hands find your waist.
'Say it again.' You murmur.
She doesn’t hesitate. 'I love you.' She says.
Soft and certain. Your heart soars.
'I love you too.' You reply.
And then you kiss her. Right there on a random street with people passing by, with food half-forgotten in your hands.
Because you can’t not. Because it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
And when she kisses you back, its not hesitant, not unsure. It’s everything. And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like something that might happen.
It feels like something that’s already yours.
---
By the time you get back to the dorm, it’s darker. The sky has shifted fully into evening, streetlights flickering on, the air a little cooler than before.
Your hands are still intertwined. Neither of you has let go since… well. Since everything.
You reach the door first and pause for half a second to glance at her.
Sophia smiles. Soft. Knowing.
'Ready?' She asks quietly.
You huff a small laugh. 'Not even slightly.'
But you open the door anyway. The noise hits instantly.
'They’re back!' Lara’s voice rings out from the living room.
'Finally.' Daniela adds.
You step inside together. Shoes barely off before all eyes are on you.
Megan is leaning forward on the couch. Yoonchae is curled up beside her. Manon is in her usual spot, calm but observant. Lara is already halfway standing. Daniela has her arms crossed, suspicious as ever.
They all clock it immediately. The hands still linked.
'Oh, this is much more worse than I thought.' Daniela mutters.
'Where have you been?' Lara demands.
You glance at Sophia briefly. Then back at them.
You shrug casually. 'Out.' You say.
'Out where?' Daniela presses.
'Walking.' You answer honestly.
Manon raises a brow slightly. 'For… how long?'
You think about it and lose track halfway through.
'A while.' You admit.
'Doing what?' Megan asks, already smiling like she knows.
You hesitate for half a second. Then you don’t. Because why would you?
'Talking.' You say simply.
Sophia’s thumb brushes over your hand.
'And?' Lara pushes.
You glance at Sophia again. This time, you don’t look away as quickly. Something soft passes between you. Then you look back at the girls.
'I told her I love her.' You say.
The silence is immediate.
Yoonchae gasps softly, Megan’s mouth drops open, Daniela blinks like she misheard, Lara freezes mid-step and Manon just nods once. Like, of course you did.
'You what?' Daniela finally says.
'I told her I love her.' You repeat.
'And?' Lara asks, like she physically needs confirmation.
Sophia speaks this time. Quiet but steady. 'I said it back.'
That does it. The room erupts.
'OH MY GOD—'
'NO WAY—'
'ARE YOU SERIOUS—'
Daniela is pointing at both of you like she doesn’t know whether to yell or applaud. 'This... this is insane.' She says.
'This is fast.' Lara adds.
'This is very fast.' Megan agrees.
Manon finally speaks. 'This was inevitable. We're happy for you.'
You laugh softly before quietly thanking her.
Sophia squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back.
'We’re going to our room.' You say, already stepping back slightly.
'Yeah.' Sophia adds, a little quieter.
Lara points at you both. 'We’re not done with this conversation.'
'We are for tonight.' You reply.
Daniela narrows her eyes. 'We will revisit this.'
'Sure.' You say easily.
And then you pull Sophia gently with you down the hallway away from the noise, into something quieter.
Your room feels different now. Not new, not unfamiliar. Just softer.
You close the door behind you and the noise from the living room dulls instantly. There’s a pause as you both just stand there for a second. Still holding hands, still processing.
But then you let out a small breath. 'That was a lot.' You murmur.
Sophia huffs a quiet laugh. 'They’re going to be unbearable.'
'They already are.' You say.
She smiles. And then without really thinking about it, you both move at the same time towards the bed.
You sit first, Sophia in tow. And then somehow you end up lying down. Her back against the pillows, you tucked into her side. Like it’s something you’ve done a hundred times before.
Her arms wrap around you immediately. Secure and warm as your head rests against her chest.
You can hear her heartbeat. It’s steady, but a little faster than usual. Your hand settles against her waist, fingers curling lightly into her shirt.
Neither of you speaks for a moment. You just stay. Her hand starts moving slowly along your arm. Gentle, absentminded. The kind of touch that doesn’t ask for anything. It just gives.
You completely melt into it.
'Hi.' You mumble softly against her.
She lets out a quiet laugh. 'Hi.' She echoes.
You tilt your head slightly, looking up at her. She’s already looking at you. There’s something so soft in her expression it almost makes your chest ache.
'We said it.' You whisper.
She nods. 'We did.'
A small smile tugs at her lips. 'You said it first.' She adds.
You huff lightly. 'You’ve been waiting months, apparently.'
She groans quietly. 'Don’t remind me.'
You grin then lean up just slightly and kiss her. She smiles into it.
When you settle back against her, her arm tightens just a little. Like she doesn’t want you going anywhere. Not now, not ever.
'You’re staying, right?' You murmur, half teasing.
She doesn’t even hesitate. 'Always.' She says.
Your chest tightens in the best way. You press another kiss to her collarbone this time. Slow and lingering.
Her breath catches softly. Her hand pauses for just a second, then resumes its gentle path along your arm.
'You’re clingy.' She murmurs.
'You started it.' You mumble back.
She laughs quietly. Then tilts her head slightly and presses a kiss to your hair. And then another, then another. Soft, mindless and affectionate.
You close your eyes, completely at ease. Your fingers trace slow, lazy patterns against her side. Her heartbeat steadies under your ear.
Time slips, minutes pass. Maybe more but neither of you cares. Because there’s nowhere else you’d rather be, no one else you’d rather be with.
And for the first time in a long time, everything feels settled. Not rushed, not uncertain. Everything feels just right.
Sophia’s voice breaks the quiet, barely above a whisper. 'I love you.'
You smile against her, eyes still closed. 'I love you too.'
Her arms tighten around you just a little more. And you let yourself sink into it, into her, into this.
Summary: You and Daniela come from different worlds, but through shared language, quiet moments, and growing trust, you build something real. Even as her busy life pulls you apart, you hold onto each other through small messages, fleeting moments, and unwavering feelings.
It seeps in slowly — through the thin gap in your curtains, through the quiet hum of the city waking up, through the warmth pressed against your side.
You don’t open your eyes immediately. For a moment, you just exist. There’s a steady rhythm against your chest — soft, slow breathing — and something gently tangled with your fingers.
Your brain is still foggy with sleep, but your body registers it first. Someone is holding your hand.
Your thumb shifts instinctively, brushing against warm skin — and the feeling sends a quiet spark up your arm.
That’s when it hits you. You’re not alone.
Your eyes open slowly.
The light is soft, golden, catching on the edges of your room — familiar walls, familiar ceiling — but everything feels different somehow. Like the space has changed overnight without actually changing at all.
Because she’s here.
Daniela is curled into you, her head tucked just beneath your chin, one arm wrapped loosely around your waist, her fingers still laced with yours like she fell asleep that way and never let go.
Her hair is slightly messy, spilling across your shoulder. Her face is relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before — no cameras, no laughter, no teasing — just peaceful.
You don’t move. You just look at her as something in your chest tightens — not painfully, just full.
'…wow.' You whisper under your breath.
Your fingers move before you can think too hard about it, brushing gently through a strand of her hair, tucking it back just enough to see her face more clearly.
She stirs. It’s subtle at first — a small shift, her grip on your hand tightening just slightly, like she’s registering your presence even in sleep.
Then her brows knit faintly, and her eyes flutter open. For a second, she looks confused. Then she sees you and everything softens.
'…hola.' She murmurs, voice rough with sleep. ('…hi.')
Your heart does something stupid in your chest. You smile, softer than you meant to.
'Hola.' You whisper back. ('Hi.')
There’s a pause. Not awkward, not uncertain. It's just quiet.
She doesn’t move away. If anything, she shifts closer, her leg brushing yours, her hand tightening around yours again like she’s grounding herself in the moment.
Her eyes drift over your face slowly, like she’s taking you in — like she’s making sure you’re still there.
'¿Dormiste bien?' She asks quietly. ('Did you sleep well?')
You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. 'Sí… contigo.' ('Yes… with you.')
That does something to her. You see it — the way her expression softens even more, the way her lips press together for a second like she’s holding something back.
Her thumb starts moving against your hand in slow, absent-minded circles.
'Yo también dormí bien.' She murmurs. ('I slept well too.')
She lifts her head slightly then, just enough to look at you properly.
There’s no hesitation this time, no nervousness, just something warm and certain.
Her hand slips from yours — only so she can reach up and brush her fingers lightly along your cheek, like she’s still half-asleep but needs to touch you anyway.
You lean into it without thinking.
Her lips curve. 'Eres real, ¿verdad?' She teases softly. ('You’re real, right?')
You huff a quiet laugh. 'Creo que sí.' ('I think so.')
She hums, satisfied with that answer, before shifting closer again — if that was even possible — her forehead resting gently against yours.
The closeness makes your breath catch. Not because it’s new. But because it feels different now, heavier and more real.
Her nose brushes yours lightly. 'Buenos días.' She whispers. ('Good morning.')
You smile, your hand finding her waist without thinking. 'Buenos días.'
There’s a moment, just one, where neither of you moves. And then she closes the distance.
The kiss is soft, slow, sleepy. Nothing like the night before. No urgency, no teasing. Just warmth.
Her lips press against yours gently, lingering like she’s memorising the feeling. Your hand tightens slightly at her waist, and she hums softly against your mouth — the sound quiet and content.
When she pulls back, it’s only barely. Just enough to look at you again. 'Me gusta despertarme así.' She admits, voice low. ('I like waking up like this.')
Your cheeks warm. 'A mí también.' ('Me too.')
She studies you for a second longer — like she’s deciding something. Then, without warning, she shifts you so you're in front of her.
You blink, confused for half a second — until her arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you back against her chest.
A back hug.
Your breath stutters. 'Dani…' You murmur, surprised.
She just presses her face into your shoulder, her nose brushing your neck. 'Quédate así un segundo.' She mumbles. ('Stay like this for a second.')
You melt immediately. 'Está bien.' ('Okay.')
Her hands settle over yours, fingers intertwining again, and she starts tracing slow patterns against your skin — absent, gentle, like it’s second nature.
After a moment, you turn your head slightly. '¿No tienes que irte?' You ask softly. ('Don’t you have to leave?')
She groans quietly into your shoulder. 'No me lo recuerdes.' She mutters. ('Don’t remind me.')
You laugh softly.
She pulls back just enough to look at you, her chin resting on your shoulder now.
'I have rehearsal later,' she adds in English, slower for you. 'But… not yet.'
You process that, nodding slowly. 'Re… rehearsal.' You repeat carefully.
Her smile brightens immediately. 'Yes,' she says softly. 'Rehearsal.'
You nod again, a little proud. 'I know… that word.'
She laughs under her breath, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. 'You’re getting better.'
You turn slightly in her arms, just enough to face her a bit more. 'Quiero aprender más.' You say quietly. ('I want to learn more.')
Her expression softens again — that same look from last night. 'I know,' she murmurs. 'I’ll teach you.'
There’s something about the way she says it. Not casual, not throwaway. Like she means more than just language. You feel it settle somewhere deep in your chest.
You hesitate for a second, then ask, softer, '¿Te vas a quedar un rato más?' ('Are you going to stay a little longer?')
She doesn’t even think about it. 'Sí.' ('Yes.')
Then, after a beat, she says quieter, 'Si tú quieres.' ('If you want me to.')
You smile, shaking your head slightly. 'Claro que quiero..' ('Of course I want to.')
That’s all it takes for her arms to tighten around you again, pulling you back into her, and she presses another soft kiss to the side of your head.
This one lingers. And for a moment, neither of you speaks.
You just lie there — tangled together in the quiet morning light, her hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, your body fitting against hers like it’s always known how.
It’s not rushed, its not overwhelming, its just right. And somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet thought settles in — steady, certain and impossible to ignore. This is different, this isn’t just something fleeting, this is something you’re building together.
---
You don’t realise how long you stay like that. Wrapped up in her arms, half awake, half dreaming, the world outside your room barely existing. It’s only when your stomach lets out the quietest, most traitorous noise that reality gently taps you on the shoulder.
You freeze. Daniela doesn’t.
There’s a pause — then a soft, amused huff of laughter against your shoulder.
'¿Eso fue tuyo?' She murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. ('Was that you?')
You groan quietly, hiding your face in your hands. 'No digas nada.' ('Don’t say anything.')
She laughs properly now, her arms tightening around your waist. 'Tienes hambre.' She teases. ('You’re hungry.')
You sigh dramatically. 'Sí… un poco.' ('Yes… a little.')
'A little?' Daniela repeats in English, a teasing smile spreading across her face as your stomach betrays you again.
She leans closer, voice warm against your ear. 'Un poco… is just a little, bebé.'
You shake your head immediately, turning in her arms to look at her, brows furrowed in protest. 'No… para mí es más que little.' ('No… for me it’s more than little.')
She laughs softly, brushing her nose against yours. 'Ahh, okay… so for you, 'un poco' means muy hungry, yeah?' ('very')
You nod seriously. 'Sí. Mucho más.' ('Yes. Much more.')
'Ah, ya entiendo.' She murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. ('Ah, I understand now.')
You shake your head, but you’re smiling.
After a moment, you gently pry her arms from around you — not without resistance. She makes a soft, complaining sound as you slip away, her hands dragging lightly across your waist like she’s reluctant to let you go.
'¿A dónde vas?' She mumbles. ('Where are you going?')
'A la cocina.' You reply, glancing back at her. ('To the kitchen.')
Her eyes narrow slightly, still sleepy. '¿Sin mí? Qué grosera.' ('Without me? How rude.')
You laugh under your breath. 'Ven entonces.' ('Then come.')
That’s all she needs. You barely make it halfway down the hallway before you feel it again — her presence behind you, warm and immediate.
And then, arms, sliding around your waist again bringing you into another back hug.
You stop walking automatically, breath catching just slightly as she presses into you, her chin settling on your shoulder like it belongs there.
'Así está mejor.' She murmurs. ('This is better.')
You huff a quiet laugh. 'No puedo caminar así.' ('I can’t walk like this.')
'No tienes que hacerlo.' She replies, completely unbothered. ('You don’t have to.')
Her hands settle over yours again, fingers intertwining like it’s instinct now, her thumbs brushing slow, lazy patterns over your skin.
You stand there for a second longer than you should before saying, 'Daniela… desayuno.' ('Daniela… breakfast.')
She groans softly, but loosens her hold — only enough for you to move forward. Not enough to let go completely. Her hands stay on you as you reach the fridge.
You open it and pause.
Daniela leans slightly to the side, peeking over your shoulder. '¿Qué hay?' She asks. ('What’s there?')
You stare into the fridge like something might magically appear. It doesn’t.
'…nada.' ('…nothing.')
She blinks. '¿Nada nada?' ('Nothing nothing?')
You start listing, unimpressed, 'Pepinillos… mantequilla…' ('Pickles… butter…')
You shift something around. A container slides slightly.
'…y esto…' you squint. 'Creo que es para la cena, no desayuno.' ('…and this… I think it’s for dinner, not breakfast.')
Daniela leans closer, her cheek brushing yours as she looks. 'What is that?' She asks in English.
You shrug. 'I… don’t know word.' You pause, then try, 'Is… uh… comida… heavy?'
She laughs softly. 'Heavy food?'
You nod, a little proud. 'Sí. Heavy.'
Her arms tighten around you again, her laughter warm against your ear. 'Okay, yeah… we’re not eating that.'
You close the fridge slowly as you both speak at the same time—
'Podemos—' ('We can—')
You stop, looking at each other.
She smiles. 'Tú primero.' ('You first.')
You shake your head. 'No, tú.' ('No, you.')
She tilts her head, thinking for a second. Then, 'Ven a mi casa.' She says simply. ('Come to my place.')
You blink. '¿A tu apartamento?' ('To your apartment?')
She nods. 'Tenemos comida. Comida de verdad.' ('We have food. Real food.')
You don’t even hesitate. 'Sí.' ('Yes.')
She grins immediately. 'Eso fue fácil.' ('That was easy.')
You shrug. 'Tengo hambre.' ('I’m hungry.')
She laughs, reaching for your hand without thinking, fingers lacing through yours like it’s second nature now.
'Entonces vamos.' ('Let’s go then.')
The drive feels different this time. Not full of nerves, nothing new. It's just easy.
Your hand rests in hers over the centre console, her thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles over your skin as she drives. Every so often, she glances at you — quick, soft looks that she doesn’t comment on.
You notice anyway. You always notice.
At a red light, she lifts your hand slightly, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your heart does that thing again.
'¿Qué?' You mumble, trying to hide your smile. ('What?')
She shrugs, eyes back on the road. 'Nada.' ('Nothing.')
You don’t believe her. But you don’t push it.
The moment you step into her apartment building again, the noise hits first. Laughter, music, voices overlapping.
You glance at her. She just smiles. 'Están despiertas.' ('They’re awake.')
You laugh quietly. 'Obviamente.' ('Obviously.')
She squeezes your hand once before opening the door. The apartment is exactly how you remember it — loud, warm, full of life.
Not that kind of loud… just awake.
You could hear movement from the kitchen, the soft clatter of something being set down, a voice half-muffled by a yawn. The smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air, mixed with something sweet you couldn’t quite place.
Daniela didn’t let go of your hand as she pulled you inside. Not even for a second. Her fingers stayed laced with yours, thumb brushing slowly over your knuckles like it had all morning — absent, constant, grounding.
Behind you, the door clicked shut. And then there was instant silence. Not from the apartment, but from the girls.
Because they’d all just noticed.
Manon was the first to react, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised so high they practically disappeared into her hairline.
'…Oh.'
Megan turned next. Then Lara. Then Sophia. It clicked across their faces one by one like dominoes.
Daniela didn’t even try to hide it. If anything, her grip on your hand tightened just slightly, her shoulder brushing yours as she walked you further in.
'Good morning.' She said casually in English.
Manon let out a slow breath. 'Yeah… great morning apparently.'
You blinked, looking between them, catching tone but not words. '…¿Qué dijo?' You whispered quietly to Daniela. ('...What did she say?')
Daniela leaned closer, lips brushing near your ear. 'Nada importante… solo drama.' ('Nothing important… just drama.')
Manon narrowed her eyes immediately. 'That is not what I said.'
Daniela ignored her completely. Instead, she turned toward you, softer already. '¿Tienes hambre?' She asked. ('Are you hungry?')
You nodded instantly. 'Mucho.' ('A lot.')
That earned a quiet laugh from her — warm, fond — before she finally let go of your hand… only to move behind you instead. Her arms slid around your waist from behind, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. Like she physically couldn’t stay away.
'Then we cook.' She said simply, switching back to English.
You started naturally, like muscle memory. Peeling the plantains, slicing them cleanly before setting them to boil. The rhythm came easy, grounding — the kind of movement that didn’t need thinking.
Behind you, there was warmth again. Daniela’s arms slipped around you once more, slower this time, her cheek resting lightly against the side of your head.
She didn’t say anything. Just stayed there watching you. '¿Siempre cocinas así?' She murmured softly. ('Do you always cook like this?')
You smiled faintly, continuing your movements. 'Con mi mamá… sí.' ('With my mom… yes.')
Her arms tightened just slightly. 'Me gusta…' ('I like it…')
You felt it in the way she said it. Not just the food, the feeling.
'Is she just gonna stay like that the whole time?' Megan asked.
'Yes.' Daniela replied instantly.
'Wow.'
You laughed softly under your breath. '¿Qué dicen?' ('What are they saying?')
Daniela pressed a small kiss to your temple. 'Nada… que soy muy inteligente.' ('Nothing… that I’m very smart.')
Manon let out a sharp laugh. 'I understood that! And that is definitely not what we said.'
You moved to the stove, melting butter in a pan, the soft sizzle filling the space. Daniela finally let go, only to turn you gently by your wrist so she could face you. For a second, you thought she needed something.
But no. She just looked at you. Then leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. 'Continúa…' She murmured. ('Go on…')
Your cheeks warmed instantly.
'…estás distraída.' She added quietly, teasing. (You’re distracted.')
You huffed softly. 'Es tu culpa.' ('It’s your fault.')
'Lo sé.' ('I know.')
Behind you, the girls are going crazy.
'OH my god,' Lara whispered loudly. 'They’re doing it again.'
'Yeah,' Sophia said. 'This is actually insane.'
Manon leaned on the counter. 'I give them two days before they forget we exist.'
Daniela rolled her eyes without even turning.
You focused again, frying the salami, then the cheese, then the eggs — each step precise, familiar.
Finally, you took the softened plantains and began to mash them, mixing in butter, salt, just enough to bring it together.
Mangú.
The smell alone filled the apartment. Even the girls went quiet for a second.
'…okay wait,' Megan said slowly. 'That smells really good.'
You glanced back, a little shy. '¿Sí?' ('Yeah?')
Daniela smiled immediately. 'Sí.' ('Yes.')
Then, softer, 'Siempre.' ('Always.')
You plated everything carefully. Mangú in the centre. Eggs to the side. Salami, cheese, onions on top. Simple, warm, but home.
You stepped back slightly. 'Listo…' ('Done…')
The girls didn’t move at first.
'…are we allowed to have some?' Lara asked.
You blinked. '…¿Qué dijo?' ('What did she say?')
Daniela smiled, leaning close again. 'Quieren comer todo.' ('They want to eat everything.')
You laughed softly. 'Está bien... we... share...' ('It’s okay…')
That was all they needed. They moved in immediately, grabbing plates, talking over each other again.
'Wait—this is actually amazing.'
'Oh my god.'
'Why is this better than anything we’ve ever made?'
Daniela didn’t move with them. She stayed right where she was. Right in front of you. Looking at you like the rest of the room didn’t exist.
Her hand found yours again, fingers lacing slowly. 'Gracias…' She said softly. ('Thank you…')
You tilted your head. '¿Por qué?' ('For what?')
She stepped closer. 'For this.' She said in English.
Then, back to Spanish, 'Por traer esto aquí…' ('For bringing this here…')
Her thumb brushed your hand gently. 'Se siente como casa.' ('It feels like home.')
Your chest tightened. Soft, full, real.
You squeezed her hand back. 'Para mí también…' ('For me too…')
'Okay but like—are they gonna eat or just stare at each other?'
Daniela didn’t even look away from you. 'Later.' She said simply.
And finally, she leaned in. A soft, quick kiss. Right there in the middle of the kitchen. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like you were already part of it.
---
The apartment had settled into something… chaotic. Not the loud, overwhelming kind — but layered, lived in. Real.
The TV played some random show no one was really watching, its light flickering across the walls. Somewhere to your left, Lara’s phone blasted a TikTok at full volume — the same five-second sound looping over and over. From another corner, someone had music playing softly, slightly off-beat with everything else.
Voices overlapped. English you couldn’t quite follow, laughter, movement. It should’ve felt warm, and it did to an extent. It was just a little too much all at once, something you weren't quite used to yet.
You sat tucked into the corner of the couch, your shoulder pressed lightly against Daniela’s side. Her arm was draped lazily around you, fingers tracing slow, absent patterns along your arm — grounding, steady.
You focused on that, on her, because everything else felt like it was moving too fast.
'…and then she said—no, wait—play it again!' Lara’s voice cut through.
'No, don’t—oh my god, you’re so annoying.' Megan groaned.
The TikTok restarted anyway.
You blinked. Your fingers tightened slightly where they rested in your lap.
Daniela noticed immediately. Of course she did. Her hand stilled for just a second before shifting — her fingers sliding down to lace with yours, giving a gentle squeeze.
'¿Estás bien?' She murmured softly, leaning close so only you could hear. ('Are you okay?')
You nodded automatically. But then hesitated. '…es un poco…' you searched for the word, glancing around. ('it’s a little…') '…ruidoso.' ('loud.')
Her expression softened instantly. 'Sí…' She murmured. ('Yeah…') Her thumb brushed over your knuckles slowly. 'I know.'
She didn’t push, didn’t make it a big deal, she just stayed close for a second longer — grounding you — before her gaze flicked around the room, thinking.
Then her arm slipped from around your shoulders. Not far. Just enough for her to shift in front of you, turning slightly so she could look at you properly.
'Ven conmigo.' she said quietly. ('Come with me.')
You blinked. '…¿A dónde?' ('Where?')
A small smile tugged at her lips. 'Vamos a comprar comida.' ('Let’s go buy food.')
You tilted your head, confused for half a second, then remembered your fridge. Or lack of one. '…¿ahora?' ('…now?')
She nodded, already standing, her hand reaching for yours again. 'Ahora.' ('Now.')
You didn’t argue. Not when her fingers wrapped around yours like that, not when her thumb brushed gently against your hand again, quieter now, more intentional.
You let her pull you up.
The movement didn’t go unnoticed. Not even a little. The moment you stood— The TikTok stopped, the music lowered, even the TV suddenly felt quieter.
You froze slightly. Because now all eyes were on you.
Manon leaned forward immediately, elbows on her knees, grin already forming. '…Where are you two going?'
Daniela didn’t miss a beat. 'Out.'
Megan raised an eyebrow. 'Out where?'
Daniela grabbed her keys from the counter, still holding your hand with the other. 'To get food.'
Lara blinked. 'You just cooked.'
Daniela shrugged. 'That was breakfast.'
Sophia tilted her head slightly, watching the two of you more carefully than the others. '…you’re leaving because of us, aren’t you?'
You glanced at Daniela quickly. '…¿Qué dijo?' ('What did she say?')
Manon leaned back, crossing her arms. 'Ohhh,' she dragged out slowly. 'She’s overwhelmed.'
You blinked.
Daniela shot her a look. 'Manon.'
'What? I’m right.'
You looked between them again, catching tone more than meaning. '…¿qué pasa?' You asked softly. ('What’s happening?')
Daniela turned back to you immediately, her whole expression softening again like a switch flipped. 'Nada,' she said gently. ('Nothing.') 'Solo vamos a salir un rato.' ('We’re just going out for a bit.')
Her thumb brushed your hand again. Reassuring.
You nodded. 'Está bien…' ('Okay…')
'Wow,' Megan muttered. 'She didn’t even deny it.'
'Of course she didn’t,' Lara whispered. 'Look at her.'
You glanced back slightly— '…¿qué dicen ahora?' ('What are they saying now?')
Daniela smiled, just a little sheepish this time. '…que soy muy obvia.' ('…that I’m very obvious.')
Manon laughed. 'Oh my god, she actually translated that one.'
Daniela tugged your hand gently. 'Vamos.' ('Let’s go.')
You followed her toward the door, her shoulder brushing yours again as she grabbed her bag. Just before stepping out— She turned back. 'Don’t burn anything.' She said casually.
'We won’t.' Megan replied.
'Lies.' Lara added.
Sophia just waved lightly. 'Drive safe.'
Manon smirked. 'Have fun… grocery shopping.'
Daniela rolled her eyes, already opening the door. The moment it shut behind you— Silence. Real silence. Not empty, just calm.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. '…gracias.' You murmured softly. ('Thank you.')
Daniela glanced at you as you walked down the hall. '¿Por qué?' ('For what?')
You hesitated. Then let out honestly, 'Por sacarme… era mucho' ('For taking me out… it was a lot.')
Her expression softened immediately. 'Lo sé…' ('I know…')
Her hand tightened gently around yours. 'No tienes que aguantar eso.' She added quietly. ('You don’t have to put up with that.')
You shook your head slightly. 'No me molesta…solo… necesito tiempo.' ('I don’t mind…I... just need time.')
She nodded. Understanding completely. 'Y te lo voy a dar.' She said softly. ('And I’m going to give you that.')
Outside, the air felt cooler. Her car sat waiting at the curb. She opened the passenger door for you without even thinking, her hand brushing your back lightly as you got in.
Gently and carefully, like you were something she didn’t want to rush.
Once inside, the door closed— And it was just you and her again. No overlapping noise, no pressure. Just the soft hum of the engine as she started the car.
She glanced over at you, a small smile forming. 'Okay,' she said in English, softer now. 'Just us.'
You smiled back. '…me gusta así.' You murmured. ('I like it like this.')
Her eyes softened instantly. 'Yeah,' she said quietly. '…me too.'
---
The supermarket was bright. Almost too bright after the quiet of Daniela’s car. Fluorescent lights stretched across the ceiling, reflecting off polished floors, rows and rows of shelves stacked neatly with everything you could possibly need — and probably a hundred things you didn’t.
But compared to the apartment? It felt calm. Open. Easy to breathe in.
You walked beside Daniela, the cart rolling softly in front of you, your fingers loosely wrapped around the handle. She stayed close — not hovering or overwhelming — just there. Her shoulder brushing yours every few steps like it was natural.
Like it had already become a habit.
'Okay,' she said lightly in English, glancing at you with a small smile. 'Tú mandas.' ('You’re in charge.')
You blinked. '…¿yo?' ('Me?')
She nodded immediately. 'Sí,' she added in Spanish, softer now. 'Tú eliges todo.' ('You choose everything.')
Your lips curved into a small, shy smile. 'Entonces… va a ser mucho.' ('Then… it’s going to be a lot.')
'I expected that.' She replied, amused.
You started in the produce section. That part was easy, familiar.
Plantains went in first — without hesitation. Then onions, garlic, peppers. You moved naturally, like you’d done this a hundred times before, fingers brushing over each item like you were checking for something more than just freshness.
Daniela watched you the entire time. Not even pretending not to. '…te ves muy concentrada.' She said. ('…you look really focused.')
You glanced at her briefly, smiling. 'Es importante… tiene que estar bien.' ('It’s important… it has to be right.')
She leaned slightly against the cart, arms folding loosely, her expression soft. 'Para tu mamá.' She said quietly. ('For your mom.')
You nodded. 'Sí.'
There was something in your voice that made her chest tighten just a little.
She didn’t say anything else. Just reached out and brushed her fingers lightly against your arm as you moved past her.
You kept going. Rice. beans, oil, spices.
Every now and then, you’d pause, explaining something softly to her — what it was for, how your mom used it, what it reminded you of.
She listened, really listened, like every small detail mattered. By the time you reached the dairy aisle, the cart was already half full.
You slowed slightly, scanning the shelves. '…leche…' You murmured under your breath. ('milk…')
Rows and rows of options stared back at you. Different brands, different percentages, different words you didn’t fully understand.
You picked one up, turning it slightly, trying to read the label. '…hmm…'
Daniela leaned casually against the cart behind you, watching. '¿Necesitas ayuda?' She asked softly. ('Need help?')
You squinted at the carton. '…no sé cuál…' ('I don’t know which one…')
You flipped it over, scanning the ingredients, lips moving slightly as you tried to piece it together. 'Este tiene…' you paused, trying to translate it in your head. ('This one has…') '…muchas cosas.' ('…too many things.')
She smiled a little at that. 'Too many things?' She echoed.
You nodded seriously. 'Sí. No me gusta.' ('Yes. I don’t like it.')
You reached for another one. Then another. Still undecided.
That’s when Daniela noticed a guy a few aisles down, not subtle in the slightest, blatantly staring at you.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
You hadn’t noticed at all — too focused on comparing milk cartons, completely unaware of the attention you were pulling just standing there in your shorts and tank top, hair a little messy from the morning, completely natural.
Completely you.
And apparently that was enough.
Daniela didn’t say anything, didn’t call it out. Instead she moved. Quiet and intentional. Her hands slid around your waist from behind, pulling you gently but firmly back against her.
Your breath caught slightly at the sudden contact. '¿Qué haces?' You asked softly, surprised. ('What are you doing?')
She didn’t answer right away. Just rested her chin lightly on your shoulder, her arms tightening just a little around you. Possessive. But soft.
'Ese.' She murmured, nodding toward the milk in your hand. ('That one.')
You blinked. '…¿segura?' ('Are you sure?')
'Sí.'
Her grip didn’t loosen. If anything, her fingers spread slightly against your stomach, holding you closer.
You shifted just slightly, glancing back at her. '…¿todo bien?' ('Everything okay?')
'Sí.' She said quickly. Too quickly.
You tilted your head slightly. 'Daniela…'
She exhaled softly. Then quietly said, 'Alguien te está mirando.' ('Someone’s looking at you.')
You froze for half a second. '…¿qué?' ('What?')
Her arms tightened instinctively. 'Ya no importa.' She added quickly. ('It doesn’t matter now.')
You blinked, a little confused but also a little amused. '…¿estás celosa?' ('Are you jealous?')
She huffed softly against your shoulder. 'No.'
A long moment of silence passes.
'…un poco.' ('…a little.')
That made you laugh — soft, surprised.
You shifted just enough to look at her, eyebrows lifting. 'Un poco…' ('A little...') you repeated slowly, teasing now. 'Eso significa más de lo que dices, ¿no?' ('That means more than you’re saying, right?')
Her eyes flicked to yours immediately, caught. She hesitated, then let out a small breath, like she’d been caught out. '…Maybe.' She admitted quietly in English.
You smiled, softer this time, brushing your fingers over her arm. 'Ya veo.' ('I see.')
That made her relax a little again — but she still held onto you a bit tighter, like she wasn’t quite done proving her point yet.
You turned slightly in her arms, just enough to look at her. '¿Por qué?' ('Why?')
Her expression softened immediately. 'Porque…' she hesitated, just for a second. 'Porque me gustas.' ('Because I like you.')
Your chest warmed instantly. You smiled, softer now. 'Solo te miro a ti…' You said quietly. ('I only look at you…')
That did it. Her entire expression shifted. Melted. '…bien.' She murmured, almost to herself. ('…good.')
Then she pressed a small, lingering kiss to the side of your neck. Right there in the middle of the aisle.
You inhaled sharply, cheeks warming. 'Daniela—'
'What?' She said, completely unapologetic.
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. '…estamos en público.' ('…we’re in public.')
'And?' She replied lightly.
Eventually, she did let go. Reluctantly. Her hand slid down from your waist to your wrist instead, fingers lacing with yours as you placed the milk into the cart.
You continued shopping like that. Hands linked, her thumb brushing slow circles against your skin.
Every now and then, she’d pull you slightly closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, your cheek, your shoulder — like she couldn’t help it. And maybe she couldn’t.
You added more things. Fresh fruit: mango, papaya, pineapple.
You paused at one section, picking something up carefully.
Daniela leaned closer. '¿Qué es eso?' She asked. ('What’s that?')
You smiled softly. 'Para un postre... mi mamá lo ama.' ('For a dessert…my mom loves it.')
She watched you place it gently into the cart. '…vas a cocinar todo esto?' ('You’re going to cook all this?')
You nodded. 'Sí… quiero…' you hesitated slightly. '…hacer algo bonito para ella.' ('Yes... I want…to make something nice for her.')
Daniela didn’t say anything right away. She just looked at you. Then stepped closer again, her hand lifting to brush lightly along your arm.
'Eres increíble.' She murmured. ('You’re incredible.')
You shook your head immediately, cheeks warming. 'No…'
'Sí.' She insisted softly.
Her fingers slipped down, finding your hand again. 'And she’s really lucky.' She added in English.
You didn’t catch every word. But you caught enough. '…gracias.' You said quietly. ('Thank you.')
By the time you reached the checkout, the cart was full. Not just with food. But with intention, with care and with pieces of home.
Daniela stood close beside you, her shoulder pressed lightly against yours again, her hand still holding yours like she hadn’t let go once since the milk aisle.
And she hadn’t. Not really. Because even when she did— she always found her way back.
---
The grocery bags are heavier than they look.
Not in a bad way — just full. Full of things that mean something. Plantains, salami, eggs, cheese, onions, fresh herbs, a couple of mangoes you insisted on, even the exact brand of milk your mom prefers after you stood there reading labels for way too long.
Daniela carries most of them anyway. You tried to argue but she didn’t let you.
Now she’s walking beside you up the short path to your apartment building, two bags in each hand, shoulders relaxed like it’s nothing — but her fingers still find yours for a second, brushing your knuckles between steps.
You smile. 'No tenías que cargar tanto.' You murmur, glancing at the bags. ('You didn’t have to carry so much.')
She shrugs, like it’s obvious. 'Quiero ayudarte.' ('I want to help you.')
Then, softer, 'A las dos.' ('Both of you.')
Something about that makes your chest tighten.
The door opens before you even reach for your keys. Your mom stands there, eyebrow raised, clearly having heard you outside. Then her eyes land on Daniela. And everything softens instantly.
'Buenos días.' She says warmly. ('Good morning.')
Daniela straightens just slightly — not stiff, just respectful — smiling as she adjusts the bags in her hands. 'Buenos días.' She replies. ('Good morning.')
You slip past them into the apartment, kicking your shoes off while Daniela follows, carefully setting the bags down on the kitchen counter.
Your mom watches her for a second. Really watches her. Then looks at you, then back at her. There’s a look there, one you recognise immediately.
You groan softly. 'Mamá…'
She ignores you. Of course she does. Instead, she steps closer to Daniela, gesturing toward the groceries.
'Gracias por ayudarla.' ('Thank you for helping her.')
Daniela shakes her head quickly. 'No, de verdad— no es nada.' ('No, really— it’s nothing.')
Your mom hums, clearly unconvinced. Then she smiles — wide, genuine, a little knowing. 'Así empiezan las cosas.' She says casually. ('That’s how things start.')
You blink. 'Mamá—'
But she keeps going. 'Primero ayuda con las compras… después ya es parte de la familia.' ('First she helps with groceries… then she’s part of the family.')
The silence is immediate and heavy. Your face burns.
Daniela freezes for half a second — then laughs, but it comes out a little too soft, a little too shy. 'Ah… bueno…' she murmurs, cheeks pink. ('Ah... okay...')
You look at her. She looks at you. And somehow that makes it worse.
'¡Mamá!' You protest, covering your face.
Your mom just smiles, satisfied, turning back to the stove like she didn’t just say that. 'Pon las cosas en la nevera.' She adds casually. ('Put the things in the fridge.') Like nothing happened.
You and Daniela move in quiet synchrony after that. Unpacking, sorting. Her brushing past you every now and then — her hand finding your waist automatically, grounding, warm.
At one point, she reaches over you for something in the fridge. But instead of pulling away after — She stays there, arms loosely wrapped around you from behind, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. A soft, quiet exhale against your neck.
You smile, leaning back into her without thinking. '¿Cansada?' You ask softly. ('Tired?')
She hums. 'Un poco… pero feliz.' ('A little… but happy.')
You turn your head slightly, just enough to press a small kiss to her cheek. She squeezes you in response but doesn’t let go right away. Eventually, everything is put away.
The kitchen smells like coffee now. Like home again.
Your mom moves around easily, already planning meals in her head. And Daniela… Daniela looks like she belongs here.
That thought lingers longer than you expect. But time doesn’t stop. It never really does.
Daniela checks her phone. And you see it, that shift. It's subtle, but its there. Responsibility creeping back in. Schedules, messages, reality.
Her thumb taps the screen once, twice, then exhales quietly. You already know.
'Tengo que irme pronto.' She says softly. ('I have to leave soon.')
Your chest dips slightly. Not dramatically, but enough to notice. You nod anyway. 'Lo sé.' ('I know.')
She steps closer immediately, like she felt it too. Her hand finds yours again. Thumb brushing slow, familiar circles.
'Tengo ensayos… y una grabación después.' ('I have rehearsals… and a recording after.')
You nod again. Still smiling. Still soft. 'Está bien.' ('It’s okay.')
She studies your face like she doesn’t fully believe you. So you squeeze her hand gently. 'Yo entiendo.' ('I understand.')
That seems to settle something in her. But not completely. At the door, she lingers. Of course she does. Her hands find your waist again, pulling you just a little closer. Not urgent, not rushed, just reluctant.
'Te llamo cuando pueda.' She promises. ('I’ll call you when I can.')
You nod. 'Voy a esperar.' ('I’ll wait.')
She smiles at that, soft and fond as she leans in and presses a slow, warm kiss to your lips. One that lingers just a second longer than it needs to. Like she’s trying to take something with her, or leave something behind. Maybe both.
She pulls away. But not far. Forehead resting against yours. 'Cuídate.' ('Take care.')
'Tú también.' ('You too.')
Another quick kiss. Then she’s gone.
The apartment feels quieter already. Not empty, just different. You stand there for a second. Then shake your head lightly, grabbing an ice lolly from the freezer like it’ll fix the weird ache in your chest.
It helps, but only a little.
You retreat to your room, flopping onto your bed, kicking your legs slightly as you unwrap it.
You exhale as your phone buzzes.
You blink, thinking, 'Already?'
You grab it quickly.
Dani🤍
You answer immediately. 'Hola—' ('Hi—')
Her voice comes through, soft and a little amused. 'No llegué ni al coche todavía.' ('I didn’t even make it to the car yet.')
You sit up, smiling instantly. '¿En serio?' ('Really?')
'I just…' she switches briefly, then back to Spanish, softer— 'Quería escucharte otra vez.' ('… wanted to hear you again.')
Your heart does that thing again. That stupid, warm, uncontrollable thing. You bite your lip, smiling into the phone. 'Qué tonta…' You tease gently. ('You’re silly…')
She laughs quietly. 'Un poco.' ('A little.')
You hear a car door open and then close, then the noise of a seatbelt click. 'Ahora sí me voy.' She says. ('Now I’m really going.')
But she doesn’t hang up. Of course she doesn’t. The sound of the engine starting hums through the line.
You lie back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, ice lolly forgotten in your hand. 'Conduce con cuidado.' You murmur. ('Drive safely.')
'Siempre.' ('Always.')
There's a pause. Comfortable and easy. Then— 'I… like… talking… wit you.' You try softly, the words slow but determined.
There’s a beat of silence. Then the softest, most melted laugh you’ve ever heard. 'With you.' She corrects gently.
You smile. 'With you.'
Another pause. Then her voice drops, quieter now. 'I like talking with you too.'
Your chest feels too full again. Neither of you rush to end the call. Not yet. Not when it still feels like this.
Like something new, something soft, something that’s already starting to matter more than either of you expected.
And even with the distance already beginning to stretch between you— Her voice stays warm and close. Exactly like home.
---
The first few days feel easy. Too easy. Like nothing has really changed.
You wake up the morning after that call still smiling, your phone tucked under your pillow, her last 'goodnight' voice note replaying quietly in your head.
It becomes routine without either of you meaning for it to. You wake up, you text her. She wakes up, she texts back.
You’re still half-asleep when you press record.
'Buenos días…' You mumble, voice rough with sleep. ('Good morning…')
You pause as you smile into your pillow. 'Espero que tengas un buen día… no te olvides de comer, ¿sí?' ('I hope you have a good day… don’t forget to eat, okay?')
You hesitate. Then say in a softer voice, 'Te extraño un poquito.' ('I miss you a little.')
You send it before you can overthink it.
Her reply comes hours later.
You’re sitting at the kitchen table with your mom when your phone buzzes.
You open it instantly. It's a voice note. You excuse yourself without even thinking.
Her voice is quieter than usual, breathless. There's background noise — people talking, something clattering, music faintly in the distance.
'Dios… lo siento…' She murmurs. ('God… I’m sorry…')
A small laugh, tired.
'Estamos en ensayo desde temprano… no he parado.' ('We’ve been in rehearsal since early… I haven’t stopped.')
You can hear the exhaustion. But then her tone softens completely.
'Escuché tu mensaje.' ('I listened to your message.')
There's a pause. Then, almost like she’s smiling, she says, 'Yo también te extraño… un poquito…' ('I miss you too… a little…')
You press the phone closer to your ear. Like that’ll make her feel closer.
It's not long before the messages get shorter. Not because she wants them to be. Because they have to be.
You: Buenos días☀️ Que tengas un buen ensayo hoy🤍 (Good morning. Have a good rehearsal today)
The next week, you start sending voice notes at night instead. Little pieces of your day, things she missed.
You sit on your bed, knees tucked to your chest. 'Hoy fui al mercado con mi mamá…' ('Today I went to the market with my mom…')
You smile faintly.
'Compramos guava… me acordé de ti.' ('We bought guava… it reminded me of you.')
Your voice softens. 'Espero que estés descansando… aunque sea un poco.' ('I hope you’re resting… even just a little.')
You hesitate.
'Buenas noches, Dani.' ('Goodnight, Dani.')
Sometimes she replies, sometimes she doesn’t. When she does though, its always worth it.
It’s almost midnight when your phone buzzes. You grab it instantly.
Another voice note.
You don’t even sit up this time — just press play, eyes still half-closed.
Her voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it. Soft, worn. Like she’s lying down.
'Acabo de llegar al apartamento…' ('I just got back to the apartment…')
There's a long exhale. 'I’m so tired…'
She switches languages without thinking now, too exhausted to filter.
'I had rehearsals… then interviews… then studio…'
You close your eyes, listening. Imagining her there with messy hair, makeup half gone. Still trying, always trying.
Then her voice changes slightly.
'Pero… escuché tu mensaje.' ('But… I listened to your message.')
You can almost hear her smiling.
'Me gusta cuando me cuentas tu día…' ('I like when you tell me about your day…')
Your chest tightens. Then, softer, she says, 'Se siente como si estuviera contigo… aunque no lo esté.' ('It feels like I’m with you… even when I’m not.')
You don’t realise you’re smiling until your cheeks hurt.
Three weeks later and you finally see her again.
It isn’t planned. Just a small gap in her schedule. Fourty-five minutes, that’s all she has. You don’t even care.
She pulls up outside your building, barely even parked properly before she’s out of the car.
You’re already outside, waiting.
The moment she sees you, everything else drops, completely.
'Dani—'
You don’t even finish saying her name when she’s already there. Arms tight around you, immediate, like she’s been holding that in for weeks.
Her face buries into your neck as you feel her exhale. Deep, shaky and real.
'Te extrañé.' She murmurs against your skin. ('I missed you.')
You hold her just as tight. 'Yo también.' ('Me too.')
She doesn’t let go, she doesn’t even try. Her hands slide up your back, fingers pressing into you like she needs to make sure you’re real. Still there and still hers.
When she finally pulls back, its only to look at you. Like she’s memorising you all over again.
'Hola…' She says softly.
You laugh a little, breathless. 'Hola…'
She kisses you, right there with no hesitation, no build up. Just pure want and need.
It’s different this time. Not just soft, not just sweet. There’s something underneath it now. Something deeper.
Something that’s been building in every missed call, every short text, every late-night voice note.
When she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours. 'No es suficiente…' She murmurs. ('It’s not enough…')
Your chest aches because you understand exactly what she means. But it’s all she has right now.
You reach up, brushing your thumb along her jaw gently. 'Está bien…' You whisper. ('It’s okay…')
Even if it isn’t, not really.
She shakes her head slightly. 'No…' She breathes.
But her hands find yours anyway, holding tightly.
'Haré tiempo,' ('I’ll make time,') she says, more firmly now. 'lo prometo.' ('I promise.')
You nod. Because you believe her. You just also know it won’t be easy. And as she leaves again, too soon, too fast—you feel it for the first time.
That tiny pull in your chest. Not doubt, not regret. Just the quiet, growing understanding that loving her might mean learning how to miss her too.
That night, your voice note is softer than usual. Quieter. 'Buenas noches…' You whisper. ('Goodnight…')
Your fingers tighten slightly around your phone.
'Te extraño más que un poquito.' ('I miss you more than a little.')
You almost say something else, something bigger, something heavier. But you stop yourself.
Because you can feel it now, its coming. Just not here, not like this. Not until you finally have her without a clock counting down.
---
The message is short and simple. But it changes everything.
Dani🤍: Mañana tengo libre. (I’m off tomorrow.)
You read it once. Then again, and then a third time, just to be sure it doesn’t disappear.
Your heart does that familiar thing — that pull, that ache that’s been building for weeks now — but this time it’s different.
This time it’s followed by something else, something warm, something certain.
'¿Mañana… libre?' You whisper to yourself. ('Tomorrow… free?')
You don’t even realise you’re smiling until your cheeks hurt.
You reply quickly. Too quickly.
You: ¿De verdad? (Really?)
Her reply takes a minute. Two and then five.
You try not to overthink it.
Dani🤍: Sí. Sin horarios. Sin ensayos. Nada. Solo tú… si quieres. (Yes. No schedules. No rehearsals. Nothing. Just you… if you want.)
Your chest tightens as you stare at the message for a long time.
Then finally—
You: Siempre quiero (I always want that)
You don’t tell her your plan because you already know what you’re going to do.
Later that evening, you're standing outside Daniela’s apartment building. It feels familiar now, less intimidating. Still a little nerve-wracking, but mostly exciting.
You shift the bag in your hands — ingredients carefully picked, things you know she loves, things that remind her of home. Things that mean something.
Daniela’s schedule had been packed all day — rehearsals, studio work, and vocal recording stretching later than expected — so she wouldn’t be back yet.
Manon, however, had been the first to finish recording vocals earlier that day, which meant she’d been the first to leave, ahead of everyone else.
As you reach the door, you pause for a second, steadying your breath before lifting your hand to knock.
The door opens before you can even knock properly.
Manon's eyes widen immediately. 'Oh my—' She grins. 'Hi.'
You smile shyly. 'Hola…' ('Hi…')
She steps aside quickly. 'She’s not here yet.' She says, lowering her voice like it’s a secret.
You nod, stepping inside carefully. 'I… know.' You say slowly.
Your English is still careful, measured, but better.
Manon claps her hands once. 'Okay. The mission is to surprise Dani.'
You understand one word. Dani. That’s enough.
'Yo… quiero cocinar…' You say, gesturing toward the kitchen. ('I… want to cook…')
Just as you finish speaking, there’s a shuffle behind you near the hallway — footsteps, followed by the door opening again. Lara.
She steps in, backpack still half-on her shoulder, hair slightly messy from the day. She hears your voice immediately and pauses, blinking as she takes in the scene — you standing there with ingredients, Manon grinning like she knows something you don’t.
Her eyes widen. 'Wait— what’s going on?' She asks, looking between you both.
Then she takes a look around before realising.
Lara gasps. 'Wait— she’s cooking for her?'
Manon turns dramatically to her. 'She’s in love love.'
You blink. '…¿Qué?' ('…What?')
Daniela isn’t there to translate this time. Manon just grins. 'You’ll find out later.'
The kitchen is chaos. But a good kind. You move around the space with growing confidence, pulling ingredients out, setting things up the way your mom taught you.
Manon and Lara hover. Of course they do.
'What are you making?' Lara asks.
You hesitate. 'Uh… breakfast… pero… noche…' You try. ('…but… night…')
They blink.
Manon nods like she understands everything. 'Breakfast for dinner. Got it.'
You smile, relieved. 'Sí… mangú.' You say. ('Yes… mangú.')
Lara repeats it like it’s sacred. 'Mangú…'
You boil the plantains, mash them slowly, carefully. The smell fills the apartment — warm, comforting, familiar.
Daniela isn’t here yet. But it already feels like she is. Every time one of the girls comes home and asks something, you can’t help it — you hope it’s her. Just for a second.
Sometimes you understand, sometimes you don’t.
'Do you miss her?' Sophia asks gently at one point.
You catch one word. Miss.
You nod. 'Mucho.' ('A lot.')
That’s enough for them.
Everything is ready, set up neatly on a tray.
You sit on the edge of Daniela’s bed, hands folded in your lap. Heart racing.
The apartment is quieter now. The girls have very conveniently disappeared into their rooms.
You hear the front door open. There's silence, then laughter, voices. Then her voice.
'I’m so tired, I swear if anyone—'
She stops at seeing the food on the counter. Then there's footsteps, they speed up just as they get louder.
The bedroom door opens, and there she is.
For a second she just stands there, frozen. '…¿Qué…?' She breathes. ('…What…?')
You stand up slowly, suddenly shy again. Like the first day. 'Hola…' You say softly. ('Hi…')
Her bag drops to the floor. Literally. She doesn’t even notice.
'¿Qué haces aquí?' She asks, voice already breaking a little. ('What are you doing here?')
You shrug, smiling nervously. 'Tienes libre mañana…' ('You have tomorrow off…')
There's a small pause before you continue.
'Quería verte.' ('I wanted to see you.')
That’s all it takes for her to cross the room in two seconds and pull you into her. Hard. You barely have time to react before her arms are wrapped tight around you, her face buried in your neck again like that first time, but this time it’s stronger.
'Te extrañé tanto…' She whispers. ('I missed you so much…')
You hold her just as tightly. 'Yo también… mucho.' ('Me too… a lot.')
She doesn’t let go, she doesn’t even try.
Her hands slide up your back, pulling you closer like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she loosens her grip.
When she finally pulls back, her eyes are glassy. '¿Hiciste esa comida de ahí afuera?' She asks. ('You made that food out there?')
You nod. 'Para ti.' ('For you.')
The look she gives you is quiet, overwhelmed, soft in a way that almost hurts to look at.
Later, you’re both sitting on her bed, cross-legged with the tray between you.
She takes a bite and closes her eyes. 'Dios…' She exhales. ('God…')
You laugh softly. '¿Está bien?' ('Is it good?')
She opens her eyes, already looking at you. 'Está perfecto.' ('It’s perfect.')
You eat together slowly, talking in between bites, filling in the gaps the past few weeks created. She tells you about rehearsals, about long days, about falling asleep in the studio. You tell her about home, about your mom, about the little things she missed.
At some point, the food is forgotten. She’s closer now, her hand finds yours, thumb brushing slow circles.
'Odio no verte lo suficiente.' She admits quietly. ('I hate that I don’t see you enough.')
You shake your head. 'Pero estás aquí ahora…' ('But you’re here now…')
She exhales. 'No es suficiente para mí.' ('It’s not enough for me.')
You understand. You always do. A quiet comfort settles between you.
You look at her, really look at her. The tired eyes, the soft smile, the way she’s still holding your hand like it’s something important.
And suddenly, you can’t hold it anymore. 'Creo que… lo supe hace tiempo…' You start softly. ('I think… I knew a while ago…')
She stills, listening.
You swallow as your heart starts to pound. 'Cuando me di cuenta de que… incluso cuando no estabas…' ('When I realised that… even when you weren’t here…')
Your voice softens.
'Todo me recordaba a ti.' ('Everything reminded me of you.')
Her fingers tighten around yours.
'Y… cuando empezaste a irte tanto…' ('And… when you started being away so much…')
You hesitate just for a second.
'No dejó de crecer.' ('It didn’t stop growing.')
She’s barely breathing now.
You look at her fully with no hesitation this time.
'Te amo, Daniela.' ('I love you, Daniela.')
Silence.
Not empty, not awkward. Just big.
Her eyes close for a second. Like she felt that somewhere deep.
Then she laughs softly. Not because it’s funny. Because she’s overwhelmed.
'Pensé que tenía que ser yo la primera…' She murmurs. ('I thought I had to be the first…')
You blink.
She leans closer, forehead resting against yours.
'Lo supe… el día que me mandaste ese mensaje… el del mango.' ('I knew… the day you sent me that message… the one about the guava.')
You laugh quietly through the emotion.
'Y cada día después de eso…' ('And every day after that…')
Her voice breaks just slightly.
'Se volvió más difícil no decirlo.' ('It became harder not to say it.')
Her hand moves to your face. Gentle and ever so careful.
'Te amo.' ('I love you.')
That’s it. No big speech, no perfect timing, just the truth.
You don’t even realise you’re crying until she wipes your cheek with her thumb. She kisses you. Slow, deep, different from every other time. This one isn’t just soft, isn’t just careful, its certain.
Her hand stays on your face. Yours grips her shirt. Like neither of you plans on letting go anytime soon.
When she pulls back, she smiles. Forehead still resting against yours.
'Te quedas esta noche.' She murmurs. ('You’re staying tonight.')
You smile, breathless. 'Sí.' ('Yes.')
She laughs softly, pulling you back into her arms, this time slower, calmer — like she’s finally allowed to relax.
And for the first time in weeks, there’s no clock, there's no rushing, there's no leaving too soon.
There's just you, just her and the quiet, steady certainty that what you built—through distance, through longing, through missed time—was real.
Summary: Sophia has always been there, quietly waiting, quietly protecting—but when you finally notice her, the feelings you’ve ignored can’t be held back any longer.
Pairings: Sophia Laforteza x reader
Warning(s): mild sexual content / fluff / angst / romance / sexual tension
The dorm feels different the next morning. Not louder, not quieter, just slower. Like everything is moving through water.
You notice it the second you open your eyes.
There’s no clear reason for it. No obvious change. The same faint hum of appliances, the same muffled sounds from down the hall. Someone laughing softly—Lara, probably. A cupboard door closing.
But something sits heavier in your chest.
You stare at the ceiling for a moment, blinking slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. They don’t gather. They scatter in fragments.
The restaurant. The empty chair. Your phone lighting up with nothing. Sophia’s voice—'I’ve liked you for a while.' The way she said 'I can wait' like it didn’t cost her anything.
Your brain doesn’t know where to land, so it just keeps moving.
You push yourself up eventually, dragging a hand down your face. Your room still smells faintly like your shampoo from last night, something soft and clean.
Your eyes flick to the plant on your windowsill. You haven’t watered it in… a while.
You get up, almost on autopilot, grabbing a water bottle from your nightstand. You pour a little too much at first, then pause, adjusting, watching the soil darken slowly.
It feels like something you can control. Something small, manageable.
You set the bottle down carefully as your reflection in the window catches your eye. Bare face. Slightly tired. A little softer than usual.
You stare at yourself for a second longer than necessary. Then you leave the room.
The kitchen is already occupied. Of course it is. Lara and Daniela are mid-argument, voices overlapping in that familiar, chaotic rhythm.
'You cannot just eat dry cereal out of the box like that—'
'I absolutely can and I am—'
'It’s unhinged behaviour!'
Yoonchae is half-asleep at the table, cheek pressed to her arm, hair slightly messy, blinking slowly like she hasn’t fully loaded into the day yet. Megan is leaning against the counter, scrolling on her phone, occasionally glancing up like she’s keeping track of everything at once.
Manon is by the sink, pouring herself a glass of water, calm as ever. Observing. Always observing.
And Sophia is at the stove.
Your steps slow slightly.
She’s already cooking. Not just standing there. Not just making something quick for herself. Actually cooking.
There’s a pan on the stove. You hear it before you fully register it—the soft sizzle of something frying. The faint smell of bacon hits you a second later, warm and salty, curling through the air.
You hover near the counter, not fully stepping in yet. Your brain is still doing that thing—jumping. From the plant. To the date. To Sophia in your room last night. To the way your chest felt when she hugged you.
You reach for a mug without really thinking. The same one from last night, apparently, because it’s already half-filled with coffee. Its cold, but you bring it to your lips anyway and take a small sip. It’s not good.
You don’t react. You just… hold it.
Manon glances at you as she passes. 'You’re thinking too loudly.' She says casually.
You blink. 'I just woke up.'
She hums. 'Exactly.'
You huff softly, but you don’t argue. Because she’s not wrong.
You finally step fully into the kitchen. 'Morning.' You mumble, voice still a little rough.
You manage a small smile. Your eyes flick—without permission—toward Sophia.
She hasn’t turned around yet. But you can tell she knows you’re there. There’s a slight shift in her posture. Subtle. Almost nothing.
But you notice. Because now you’re noticing everything.
You lean against the counter, mug still in your hands, letting the warmth that isn’t there pretend to be something.
'I’m not hungry.' You say absently, mostly to no one in particular.
It just comes out. Because you’re not. Or at least, you don’t think you are. Your stomach feels weird. Not empty. Just… unsettled.
Behind you, Lara gasps. 'Blasphemy.'
'It’s 10 a.m.,' Daniela adds. 'That’s prime eating time.'
You shrug slightly. 'I’ll muster something up later.'
'Mhm.' Sophia’s voice.
You go still. It’s quiet, noncommittal. But it lands. She still hasn’t turned around.
You stare down at your coffee instead. A minute passes. Maybe two.
Your brain drifts again. Back to the restaurant. The way the chair across from you stayed empty. The way you kept checking your phone like something might magically change. Then—uninvited— Sophia’s voice again. 'I’ve liked you for a while.'
Your grip on the mug tightens slightly. You take another sip of the cold coffee just to do something. It’s worse now. You don’t even react.
'Give me that.'
You blink as the mug is gently taken from your hands before you can process what’s happening.
You look up at Sophia. She’s right in front of you now, closer than you expected.
Your brain stalls for half a second. 'It’s fine—' You start automatically.
'It’s not.' She says simply.
Not sharp, not annoyed, just factual. She turns away before you can respond, already moving toward the microwave.
You watch her.
The way she moves is efficient. Quietly purposeful. Like she’s done this a hundred times, even if she hasn’t.
She opens the microwave, places your mug inside, sets the time without hesitation.
You frown slightly. 'You don’t have to—'
'I know.'
She doesn’t look at you when she says it. That does something to your chest. You don’t push it.
The microwave hums softly as Sophia turns back to the stove, flipping something in the pan. You finally look properly. Eggs and bacon, plated already for the most part.
The microwave beeps. She pulls your mug out, tests the side of it with her fingers briefly, then walks back over.
She sets it in front of you again. This time, it’s warm. Actually warm. You stare at it for a second. 'Thanks.' You say quietly.
She nods once. 'Drink it before it goes cold again.'
There’s the smallest hint of something in her tone. Not quite teasing. Something softer. Familiar.
You wrap your hands around the mug again. This time, the warmth settles into your palms properly.
You’re still not paying attention when she sets the plate down. It happens without announcement. Without asking. Its just there, in front of you.
You blink, looking down. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Perfectly done.
You look up at her, confused. 'I said I wasn’t hungry.'
'I know.' She says.
You wait for more. It doesn’t come.
'Then why—'
'Because you didn’t eat last night.' She replies.
It's simple and direct. Your mouth opens slightly, then closes again.
You didn’t realise she noticed that. You barely noticed it yourself. But of course she did. You look back down at the plate. Then at your hands. Then at her again.
'You didn’t have to do all that.' You say softly.
She shrugs, leaning back against the counter now. 'It’s just eggs.'
It’s not just eggs. You both know that.
The room continues around you. Lara is still talking. Daniela is still arguing. Yoonchae has shifted positions but is still half-asleep. Megan is watching something on her phone. Manon is quietly sipping her drink.
But it all feels… distant. Muted. Because your focus keeps drifting back. To her. To the plate in front of you. To the way she didn’t make a big deal out of it.
Didn’t ask if you wanted it. Didn’t push. She just did it. Because she knew.
You pick up your fork slowly and take a small bite. You are hungry. You just didn’t realise it. The food is warm and comforting, exactly what you didn’t know you needed.
Your shoulders drop slightly. Just a little.
Across from you, Sophia watches. Not obviously. Not in a way anyone else would notice. But she does. She watches the way you actually start eating, the way your grip on the mug relaxes, the way your breathing evens out just slightly.
Relief flickers through her chest. Quiet. Contained.
Your mind drifts again. But this time, it’s different. It’s not just the restaurant or the empty chair or the unanswered texts.
It’s this.
The plant in your room that got watered. The coffee in your hands that got reheated. The plate in front of you that was made without asking. And suddenly—a thought slips in. Uninvited but soft.
She’s always been like this. Not loud about it and never obvious. But steady, consistent and always there.
You swallow and take another bite. Your chest feels full in a way that has nothing to do with the food. You glance up to see she’s already looking at you. Not intensely. Not searching. Just present.
You hold her gaze for a second longer than usual. 'It’s good.' You say quietly.
Her lips press together slightly. Not quite a smile. But close.
'Good.' She replies.
And then she looks away first. Giving you space again. Like she promised. Like she meant it.
You sit there for a while just eating slowly and drinking your coffee before it goes cold again. Your thoughts are still messy, still scattered. But they're softer now. Less sharp. Less heavy.
Because even if nothing is figured out yet, even if everything is still complicated, there’s one thing your brain keeps circling back to, over and over. Steady and certain.
She showed up. She’s still showing up. And you’re starting to realise that maybe she always has.
---
The dorm is quieter than usual when you start getting ready. It's not empty—but calmer.
A few doors are closed. Music is faint somewhere down the hall. The kind of afternoon where everyone’s either out, busy, or halfway between plans.
You tug on your hoodie, adjusting the sleeves absently as you check your phone. Wallet. Keys. Headphones.
You hesitate by the door for a second. 'Hey,' you call out, raising your voice just slightly. 'I’m going out. Does anyone need anything?'
There’s a beat as a door creaks open. Lara pokes her head out first. 'Where are you going?'
'Grocery store,' you reply. 'Just grabbing a few things.'
'Ooooh.' She considers it. 'Snacks?'
'You already have snacks.'
'Those are emergency snacks.'
You snort softly. 'So… no?'
She sighs dramatically. 'No.'
Another door opens—Daniela this time, phone in hand. 'If you see those chocolate things—'
'That narrows it down so much.' You deadpan.
She grins. 'You know the ones.'
You don’t.
'Text me a picture.' You say.
'Okay... actually I won’t need them that badly.' She decides immediately, disappearing back into her room.
Yoonchae appears next, quieter, leaning against the doorframe. 'Maybe tea?' She offers.
'We have tea.'
She nods thoughtfully. 'Then no.'
Megan’s voice drifts from the living room. 'Get yourself something nice.'
You glance over, smiling faintly. 'I will.'
Manon appears last, arms folded loosely. 'Don’t carry too much.'
You huff a small laugh. 'I never do.'
She raises a brow.
You ignore that. Your eyes flick, almost automatically, down the hallway. Sophia’s door is closed.
You hesitate for half a second. Then shake it off. 'Okay. I’ll be back.' You say, slipping your shoes on.
'Don’t get kidnapped.' Lara calls.
'Noted.'
And then you’re out. The air outside is cool and fresh. It helps a little.
You walk without rushing, hands tucked into your sleeves, headphones in but not playing anything. Just there. A buffer.
Your thoughts drift. Not in sharp spirals like before. More like… slow currents. You pass familiar streets, familiar shops. People moving around you in their own little worlds.
It’s grounding.
By the time you reach the store, your head feels a little quieter. You keep it simple. Milk, bread, a few vegetables, something easy for later.
You try to keep it minimal. You fail slightly. You always do. By the time you’re at the checkout, the basket is heavier than intended.
You don’t question it.
On the way back, you take a slightly different route. No real reason other than just fancying a stroll. And that’s when you see it. A small setup outside a gallery space. Subtle signage, clean windows a few people lingering.
Someone is standing near the entrance, handing out flyers. You wouldn’t normally stop. But something catches your eye, so you slow.
They offer one out to you with a polite smile. 'Local exhibit. Opens this week.'
You hesitate for half a second, then take it. 'Thanks.' You murmur.
'No problem.'
You glance down to read it as you walk again. Minimalist design. Clean layout. A few images printed along the side.
Your steps slow slightly. You don’t stop walking. But your attention lingers. You fold it carefully and tuck it into your bag. You’ll look at it properly later.
By the time you reach the dorm, your fingers are starting to ache again. Too many bags. Too many 'just a few things.'
You shift the weight, adjusting your grip as you reach the door. But before you can even get your keys out—It opens.
You blink in fright.
Sophia.
She’s standing there, like she was just about to leave. Her eyes drop immediately to your hands. Of course they do.
Her expression shifts. 'Why didn’t you ask for help?'
You huff softly. 'Hi to you too.'
'Hi.' She says automatically—then reaches forward and takes two of the heavier bags from you without waiting.
The relief is immediate. Your fingers sting slightly as the pressure disappears. You flex them absentmindedly. 'I didn’t think anyone would be home.'
'Mhm.' She hums, stepping back to let you in, unconvinced.
You walk past her, the warmth of the dorm hitting you again. 'It wasn’t that much.' You add, weaker this time.
She glances at you. 'You say that every time.'
'Because it’s true.'
'You bought six cartons of juice last week.'
'They were on offer.'
She exhales a quiet laugh. It’s soft. Easy. You feel it settle somewhere in your chest.
You both move into the kitchen. She sets the bags down and immediately starts unpacking like it’s second nature.
No asking. No hesitation. Just helping.
You hover for a second, then join her. 'You didn’t have to—'
'I know.' She says, pulling out the milk and placing it in the fridge.
You pause, because there it is again. That 'I know.' Not dismissive. Just certain.
You don’t argue.
The door opens not a moment later. Noise floods in.
Yoonchae trails in behind them, slipping her shoes off neatly. Manon brings up the rear, calm as ever.
They all clock the scene instantly. You, Sophia, groceries halfway unpacked.
Lara grins. 'Domestic.'
'Shut up.' You mutter.
Daniela leans against the counter. 'Did you get snacks?'
'No.'
'Unbelievable.'
Megan eyes the bags. 'That does not look like a few things.'
You point at Sophia. 'She helped.'
Sophia doesn’t react, just keeps unpacking.
Manon hums quietly. 'Of course she did.'
You miss the look she gives Sophia. Sophia doesn’t.
Once everything is put away, the kitchen settles again. The others drift—living room, bedrooms, somewhere between.
You stay. Kettle in hand. You fill it without thinking, setting it on the base with a soft click as it hums to life.
You lean back against the counter, reaching into your bag for the flyer. You pull it out, unfolding it carefully. Your eyes scan over it properly this time.
Your lips press together slightly. You’re already picturing it. The space, the lighting, the quiet.
'Looks pretentious.' Lara says, appearing out of nowhere and peering over your shoulder.
You snort. 'You just don’t get it.'
'I don’t want to get it.'
Daniela leans in from the other side. 'Is it one of those places where there’s like... a chair in the middle of a room and it’s called existence?'
'Maybe.' You say, smiling faintly.
'Yeah, no,' she decides. 'Hard pass.'
Yoonchae steps closer, more curious. 'It looks pretty.' She says softly.
You nod. 'It does.'
Megan glances over from the living room. 'You thinking of going?'
You shrug slightly. 'Maybe. I just... haven’t had time.'
The kettle clicks louder as it heats.
You don’t notice Sophia stepping into the doorway. But she’s there, watching.
You flip the page. Pause on one of the images. Your expression softens slightly. Thoughtful. Interested. You hum under your breath.
Sophia notices everything. The way you linger. The way your fingers trace the edge of the paper absentmindedly. The way your whole energy shifts when it’s something you care about.
She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t comment.
The kettle clicks off. You don’t move immediately. Still reading. Still somewhere else in your head.
'Your water.' Sophia says gently.
You blink, looking up. 'Oh—thanks.'
You turn back to the counter, grabbing your mug. As you pour, you feel it again. That awareness.
You glance over. She’s still watching you. Not intensely. Not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. Just present.
You look back down at the flyer as she suddenly says, 'We could go.'
You freeze slightly and turn. 'What?'
Sophia shifts her weight, like she’s choosing her words carefully. 'The exhibit.'
You stare at her. Not because of the suggestion. But because it’s her.
'You hate things like this.' You say before you can stop yourself.
'I don’t hate them,' she replies. 'I just don’t get them.'
You huff a small laugh. 'Exactly.'
She holds your gaze. 'Then you can explain it to me.'
Your chest tightens. The room feels quieter. Even with the others still around.
'You’d actually want to go?' You ask softly.
She shrugs—but there’s no hesitation. 'Yeah... with you.’
Something in your chest shifts again. Deeper this time. You glance down at the flyer. Then back at her.
A small smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. 'Okay.' You say.
Simple. But it lands.
Behind you, Lara gasps dramatically. 'Wait—are we being excluded?'
'Yes,' Daniela says immediately. 'We’re not art people.'
'I could be an art person.' Lara argues.
'No you couldn’t.'
Yoonchae smiles softly. 'You should go.'
Megan watches you both, something knowing in her expression. Manon just leans against the wall, arms crossed, quietly observing. Taking it all in.
Sophia doesn’t look away from you right away. And this time, you don’t look away first either.
The kettle has long since stopped. Your tea is steeping. The flyer is still in your hand. And somewhere between groceries, warm kitchens, and quiet offers, something is shifting.
Slowly, carefully but its undeniable.
---
You don’t go to the exhibit right away. You plan it carefully and casually. Like it’s not a big deal. Like it doesn’t sit somewhere in the back of your mind all week.
It happens two nights later. Schedules open up—just slightly. A rare gap between your work lives.
You’re both in the kitchen again when it comes up. You’re leaning against the counter, scrolling through your calendar, frowning slightly.
'You’re free Thursday?' Sophia asks.
You glance up. 'Yeah… I think so.'
She nods once, like she’s already checked hers. 'Me too.'
A long moment passes. 'We could go then.'
Your chest does that thing again. It's small, sharp, but noticeable.
You try to play it off. 'Yeah. That works.'
'Cool.' She says.
Cool.
That’s it. Conversation moves on. But something settles. A plan. A thing that belongs to just the two of you.
And then comes the days in between.
It’s late one night. The living room is dim, just the lamp on in the corner casting that soft golden light across everything.
You’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, blanket half slipping off.
You don’t notice the cold at first. You’re too focused on your phone scrolling. Not really reading anything. Just existing.
Until you shiver. Its barely anything. But from across the room, Sophia looks up. Of course she does. She doesn’t say anything. Just stands, walks over and drapes her hoodie over your shoulders.
You blink, startled. 'Soph—'
'You’re cold.' She says simply.
It’s the same tone as before. Like it’s obvious. Like of course she would do that.
You pull it around yourself slightly. It smells like her again. Faint. Familiar. Comforting in a way you don’t question.
'What about you?' You ask.
'I’m fine.'
You look at her for a second longer than necessary. Then nod. 'Thanks.'
She gives a small nod back. And this time, she sits down next to you. Not across the room. Not at a distance. Right next to you.
Your shoulders brush slightly when you shift. Neither of you move away.
Another night you're trying to make matcha.
'It never tastes right when I make it.' You mutter, staring into the cup like it personally offended you.
Megan laughs from behind you. 'Skill issue.'
You roll your eyes. 'Helpful.'
You’re about to give up on it entirely when— 'Move.'
You blink. 'What?'
Sophia’s already stepping into your space, reaching for the kettle.
'Move.' She repeats, softer this time.
You step aside, confused. She doesn’t explain. Just starts measuring, whisking and heating.
You watch her like you’ve never seen this before. 'Since when do you make matcha?' You ask.
'I don’t.' She says.
'Then why—'
She hands you the cup. 'Try it.'
You hesitate. Take a sip and pause. '…Okay.'
Megan leans in immediately. 'Is it good?'
You nod slowly. 'It’s really good.'
Sophia exhales quietly in relief. It's tiny, but there.
You look at her. 'You learned how to make this?'
She shrugs. 'You said you liked it.'
That’s it. That’s all she gives you. And it lands harder than it should.
The next day, you try to be smarter. You really do. Smaller list, less stuff. But your arms still end up full.
The door opens before you can unlock it. Again.
Sophia.
Her eyes drop to your hands. Again.
'You did it again.' She says.
You sigh. 'It’s not that bad—'
She takes the bags anyway. 'You always say that.'
You watch her this time. Really watch her. The ease of it. The way she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t make you feel incapable. She just helps. Like it’s natural, like it’s normal to take some of the weight from you.
Your chest tightens slightly. You don’t look away.
Another time, you’re both sitting on the floor of the studio, backs against the mirrored wall.
Everyone else is scattered—stretching, talking, checking phones. You’re quieter. Tired. You don’t even realise you’ve leaned slightly sideways until something solid meets your shoulder.
Sophia.
She's not moving away. She's just letting you rest there. Like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t mean anything.
Your breath catches slightly. You don’t move either.
'You okay?' She asks quietly.
You nod. 'Just tired.'
She hums. 'You’ve been pushing yourself a lot.'
You glance at her. 'You have too.'
She shrugs. 'I’m fine.'
You know that tone now. You don’t push. But you don’t move away either.
It creeps up on you. Not all at once. But piece by piece.
The way she always walks on the outside of the pavement, the way she hands you things first without thinking, the way she remembers everything you say, even when you don’t, the way she doesn’t interrupt you—just listens.
And the way she looks at you when you’re not looking.
Except now, you are looking.
You’re both in the kitchen again, its late, everyone else has gone to bed. It’s quiet.
You’re standing side by side, waiting for the kettle. Not talking. Just existing.
Your hands brush when you both reach for the same mug. You both pause. For a second it feels like something might happen.
Not big, not dramatic. But she pulls back first. Not abruptly, just enough ti give you space. Just like she's always giving you space.
Your chest aches a little at that. In a way you don’t fully understand yet.
You’re in your room sitting on your bed not doing anything in particular. Just pondering.
Your eyes drift to the plant on your windowsill. Still alive. Still watered. You didn’t forget this time. But you almost did.
And then a thought slips in. Soft and unavoidable.
She would’ve reminded me.
You stare at the leaves for a second. Then lean back slightly. Your heart is doing something strange. Not overwhelming. Not loud. Just persistent.
Because it’s not just one thing. It’s all of it. The coffee, the hoodie, the matcha, the groceries. The way she waits, the way she doesn’t push, the way she shows up over and over and over again.
Your fingers curl slightly into your sleeve. And for the first time, you don’t think of her confession as something sudden or surprising. It feels obvious. Like it’s been there, like she’s been there.
And you’re only just now really seeing her.
The night before you both go to the exhibition, you pass each other in the hallway. Both half-tired. Both heading to your rooms.
You pause, 'Tomorrow.' You say.
She nods, 'Tomorrow.'
A small smile, shared, quiet, but yours.
And when you go to sleep that night—It’s not the restaurant you think about. Its not the empty chair, not the unanswered texts.
It’s her. Standing in the kitchen, reheating your coffee like it mattered. Like you mattered.
---
The gallery is quieter than you expected. Not silent—but hushed in that intentional way. Soft footsteps, low voices with the faint echo of movement against polished floors.
The lighting is warm but focused—each piece given its own space to breathe.
You pause just inside the entrance. Sophia stands beside you, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of her jacket, eyes scanning the room.
'So,' she says lightly. 'This is your thing.'
You huff a small laugh. 'One of them.'
She nods once, like she’s taking that seriously.
You glance at her. 'You don’t have to pretend to like it, you know.'
'I’m not pretending.' She says.
You raise a brow. 'You literally said you don’t get it.'
'I don’t,' she agrees. 'But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.'
Your chest does that thing again. You look away first this time. 'Okay,' you murmur. 'Come on.'
You start slow as that's what feels right. Not rushing through, not trying to see everything at once.
You stop in front of the first piece—a large canvas, mostly monochrome. Harsh lines. Sharp contrast. Something fragmented about it.
Sophia stands beside you, looking at it for a long moment. 'It looks like someone got angry at a printer.'
You snort. It echoes a little louder than you expect in the quiet space. You quickly cover your mouth, glancing around. 'Oh my god—'
She’s already smiling, a little sheepish. 'What? That’s what it looks like.'
You shake your head, still smiling. 'Okay. No. That’s—no.'
'Am I wrong?'
'You’re not wrong,' you admit. 'You’re just… missing the point a little.'
She turns her head toward you. 'Then explain it.'
There’s no challenge in it, just curiosity. Real curiosity. You glance back at the piece.
'It’s about fragmentation,' you say, softer now. 'Like... identity. Or perception. The way things don’t always come together cleanly.'
She looks at the painting again. Actually looks. 'So it’s meant to feel messy?'
'Yeah,' you nod. 'Unsettled. Like something’s off but you can’t fully place why.'
She hums.
You watch her take that in. The way her brow furrows slightly. The way her gaze lingers longer than before.
She’s trying. Really trying. And it does something to you.
You move through the space slowly. Stopping at different pieces. Talking more.
There’s a photography series next. Black and white portraits. Intimate. Close-up. Each one slightly different but connected somehow.
You step closer to one of them. 'This one’s my favourite.' You say quietly.
Sophia shifts beside you. 'Why?'
You tilt your head slightly, studying the image. 'It’s honest,' you say. 'There’s no... performance to it. No trying to look like something. It just is.'
You don’t realise how soft your voice has gone. Or how much of yourself is in what you’re saying.
Sophia does. She’s not looking at the photo anymore. She’s looking at you. At the way your expression changes when you talk about something you care about.
The way your eyes focus. The way your voice settles. There’s something… grounding about it.
She forgets, for a second, where she is. The gallery fades. The noise fades. It’s just you talking, existing and being you. Her chest tightens. In a way that’s not uncomfortable. Just full.
You turn slightly and catch her staring.
You pause. 'What?' You ask, a little self-conscious now.
She blinks like she’s just been pulled back into the room. 'Nothing.' She says quickly. Too quickly.
You narrow your eyes slightly. 'You weren’t even looking at the photo.'
'I was.' She lies.
You glance at the piece, then back at her. 'You were looking at me.'
She hesitates. Then just slightly— 'Maybe.'
Your breath catches. That wasn’t denial. You don’t know what to do with that. So you look away and back at the photo.
But your focus is gone now. Because your heart is beating just a little faster than it should be.
You move on. Neither of you mentions it. But something has shifted again.
The next piece is strange. A sculpture this time. It's abstract, twisted metal with suspended elements that look like they shouldn’t stay in place—but do.
You both stand in front of it. There's a longer silence this time.
You glance at her. 'Okay. Your turn.'
She looks at you. 'My turn for what?'
'Interpretation.'
She immediately shakes her head. 'Absolutely not.'
You grin slightly. 'Come on. You said you’d try.'
'I didn’t say I’d be good at it.'
'You don’t have to be good. Just say what you think.'
She looks back at the sculpture and squints slightly. then tilts her head. You watch her. There’s something endearing about it. About the way she’s actually considering it. Taking it seriously—even if she doesn’t fully understand it.
'Okay.' She says slowly.
You perk up slightly. 'Okay.'
She gestures vaguely toward the piece. 'It’s… anxiety.'
You blink. 'Go on.'
'Like—' she searches for the words. 'Everything’s kind of... hanging. Not falling. But not stable either.'
You nod slowly.
'And it looks like it could collapse at any second,' she adds. 'But it doesn’t. It just stays like that.'
You stare at her. 'That’s... really good.' You say, a little surprised.
She looks at you, suspicious. 'Are you being serious?'
'Yeah,' you nod. 'That’s basically it.'
She huffs out a small laugh. 'I just made that up.'
'That’s the point,' you say. 'There’s no one right answer.'
She glances back at the sculpture. Then at you. 'Okay,' she says. 'I kind of get it now.'
Your chest warms. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah.'
And the way she says it—like she’s not just talking about the art—does not go unnoticed.
Later, you find yourself standing beside her again. But this time— you’re not looking at the art. You’re looking at her, at the way she tilts her head slightly when she’s focusing.
The way her hands stay tucked into her sleeves when she’s thinking. The way her expression softens when she starts to understand something.
You don’t realise how long you’ve been staring. Not until she turns and catches you.
'What?' She asks, a small smile tugging at her mouth.
You freeze. Your brain blanks for a second. 'Nothing.' You say quickly. Too quickly.
Her brow lifts. 'You were staring.'
You huff softly. 'You were staring earlier.'
'At you.' She corrects.
Oh.
Your heart stutters as you look away. 'That doesn’t help your case.' You mutter.
She laughs quietly. It’s soft and warm as it settles somewhere deep in your chest.
You move through the rest of the exhibit like that. Not rushed. Not distant. Just close in a way that feels new, but also familiar.
And somewhere between explaining meaning and watching each other when you think the other isn’t looking, a quiet, undeniable truth starts to settle in your chest.
This feeling isn't confusion anymore. It’s not just comfort. It’s not just familiarity. It’s something deeper. Its something growing day by day, moment by moment.
And the more you see her—really see her—the harder it becomes to pretend you don’t feel it too.
---
The gallery feels warmer when you leave. Or maybe it’s just you. You push the door open, stepping back out into the evening air. It’s cooler now, the sky dimming into that soft blue-grey that sits between day and night.
For a second, neither of you speak. You just walk side by side, closer than before.
'That was good.' Sophia says after a minute.
You glance at her. 'Yeah?'
She nods. 'Yeah. I get it now.'
You smile slightly. 'You do?'
'A little,' she admits. 'Enough.'
You huff a quiet laugh. There’s a comfortable pause. But charged in a way it wasn’t before.
Your arms brush, once, then twice. Neither of you pulls away. It happens again. And this time, neither of you pretends it didn’t.
Your fingers twitch slightly at your side. You feel it, that pull, that urge. It’s been building all day, all week.
Every small moment stacking on top of the last. The hoodie, the coffee, the way she listened, the way she looked at you.
Your hand brushes hers again. And this time— you don’t stop it. You turn your hand slightly and let your fingers catch hers. Just for a second, testing.
She stills. Barely. Then her fingers shift too to meet yours halfway. Not pulling away, not hesitating.
Your breath catches as you lace your fingers with hers. Fully this time. It feels warm and it feels right. Like its something you didn’t realise you’d been reaching for.
You don’t look at her immediately. You’re too aware of it. Of everything. But when you finally do, she’s already looking at you.
There’s something soft in her expression, something steady. She doesn’t say anything and neither do you. You just keep walking hand in hand.
It doesn’t last long before everything shifts.
You see them first. It makes your steps falter. Just slightly, but enough.
Sophia notices instantly. Of course she does. 'What's wrong?' She asks quietly.
You don’t answer right away. Your grip on her hand tightens without meaning to.
They’re standing a little ahead. Not alone. There’s a girl with them standing close. Too close.
Your stomach drops. Something cold slides down your spine as you stop walking.
Sophia follows your gaze. Then looks back at you.
Your face gives it away before you even say it. 'That’s them.' You murmur. Your voice feels distant. Like it’s coming from somewhere else.
Her expression changes immediately. Sharpens as she looks back at them. Then at you.
'Do you want to leave?' She asks.
You nod quickly. 'Yeah, please. Let’s just go.'
You start to turn, tugging her gently in the opposite direction. But it’s too late.
'Hey—'
You freeze.
God.
You close your eyes for half a second. Then turn back. They look… surprised. Caught.
Their eyes flick between you and—your hands. Still intertwined with Sophia’s. Something like panic flashes across their face.
Good.
You don’t feel good. You feel exposed.
'Hi.' They say, awkwardly.
'Hi.' You reply, flat.
You don’t let go of Sophia’s hand. If anything, you hold on tighter.
Their gaze shifts again. To her. 'Oh,' they say. 'You’re—uh…'
You don’t give them the chance to finish. 'We were just leaving.' You say quickly.
You try to move again. Try to pull away from this, from them. From the girl standing beside them who hasn’t said a word but is definitely listening.
But they speak again. Of course they do. 'Wait—'
You stop again. Your patience is thinner this time. 'What?' You ask.
They hesitate. 'I was gonna text you.' They say.
You stare at them. You actually laugh in disbelief. 'But you didn’t.'
'I know, I just—things got—'
'Busy?' You cut in.
Your voice is sharper now.
They wince slightly. 'Yeah, kind of—'
You gesture lightly toward the girl beside them. 'Yeah you seem really busy.'
Silence. That lands.
You feel Sophia beside you. Still, solid but present. Her thumb brushes lightly against yours.
'It wasn’t like that.' They say quickly.
You don’t even respond to that. You’re already stepping back. 'We’re leaving.' You say again, firmer this time.
You turn, ready to walk. Ready to be done with this. And then they say it. Carelessly and offhandedly.
'You look different, by the way. Better than your profile picture.'
You freeze again.
There’s a beat where your brain doesn’t fully process it. And then it lands. Crooked and so very wrong.
Sophia lets go of your hand and steps forward. 'What did you just say?'
Her voice is calm. Too calm.
You feel it immediately. That shift. That edge. 'Soph—' You start quietly.
But she doesn’t look at you. Her focus is locked.
They falter. 'I just meant—'
'No,' she cuts in. 'Say it again.'
They hesitate. But decide to keep their mouth shut. Because they know.
Sophia takes another step forward. Not aggressive, not loud but unmovable.
'You left her sitting alone for an hour.' She says.
Each word is measured and controlled.
'You ignored her messages.... and now you think you can stand here and make comments about how she looks?'
Silence.
You can feel your pulse in your throat.
'It wasn’t intentional—' They try.
Sophia lets out a short, humourless breath. 'That makes it worse.'
Her voice doesn’t rise. But it cuts deeper.
'Because it means you didn’t even care enough to think about it.'
You swallow hard.
The girl beside them shifts uncomfortably.
You barely notice. You’re too focused on Sophia. On the way she’s standing, on the way she’s speaking, on the way she’s defending you without hesitation. Without a doubt.
'She showed up,' Sophia continues. 'On time. Excited. Ready to give you a chance.'
Your chest tightens.
'And you couldn’t even send a message.'
They don’t respond. Because they can’t.
Sophia tilts her head slightly. 'And now you’re here with someone else?'
Her tone is quieter now. More cutting.
'That’s… interesting timing.'
Heat floods your chest. Your stomach twists. Not from embarrassment. From something else, something warm, something overwhelming, something that makes your thoughts blur for a second.
'Sophia—' You say, reaching for her arm.
She doesn’t move. She's still locked in, still not done.
'You don’t get to come back and act like this is casual,' she says. 'Like it didn’t matter... Because it did.'
Her voice softens slightly. But only for a second.
That’s when you step in properly. Your hand comes up as you gently but firmly grab her face—turning it toward you.
'Soph.' You say, softer now.
She stills immediately. Her eyes snap to yours. The tension is still there, sharp and alive. But she listens, she always listens.
'It’s not worth it.' You murmur.
Your thumb brushes lightly along her cheek without thinking. 'Let’s go.'
Her jaw tightens. You can see she’s not fully done, not fully calm. But she nods, once, for you.
You don’t look back at them. Not once. You take Sophia’s hand again. And this time, you don’t hesitate. You pull her away with you as you walk faster than before. Adrenaline still buzzing under your skin, your heart is racing, your thoughts a mess.
Because that—that just happened. And she did that for you. Again.
But this time it wasn’t just protective. It was something else, something deeper.
You don’t stop until you’re a good distance away. Until the street is quieter again, until it’s just you two.
Only then do you slow, still holding her hand and still not letting go.
She exhales sharply. Runs a hand through her hair with her free hand, 'Sorry,' she mutters. 'I shouldn’t have—'
'No.' You cut in immediately.
She looks at you. You shake your head slightly. 'Don’t apologise.'
Your voice is softer now. But firm. 'They deserved that.'
A small pause.
'And…' you hesitate slightly. 'Thank you.'
Something in her expression shifts. You’re still holding her hand. You both realise it at the same time. But neither of you lets go.
And as you start walking again—slower, closer now. That feeling in your chest— It’s not confusing anymore, its not subtle, its there and its growing. It's steady and impossible to ignore.
---
You don’t make it far. You try, you really do.
You walk—fast at first, then slower, then fast again—like your body doesn’t know what to do with the adrenaline still rushing through you.
Sophia keeps pace beside you. She doesn’t ask where you’re going, she just stays like she always does.
Your hand is still wrapped around hers. Tighter than before, like if you let go, something might unravel.
Your thoughts are loud. Too loud. Everything is overlapping— The exhibit, her watching you, the hand holding, the way she spoke to them. The way she said 'because it did.'
Your chest feels like it’s going to burst.
You stop suddenly. Sophia nearly bumps into you. 'Hey—' She starts.
You don’t let her finish. You turn too quickly as she freezes slightly at the shift.
Your breathing is uneven. Yours and hers. Both.
'What?' She asks, softer now. Concerned as she searches your face. Always searching.
You don’t answer because you don’t know how to say it. You don’t know how to explain that something has tipped, that something has changed, that you can’t go back to before this.
So instead you reach for her. Your hand slides from hers to her wrist. Not rough. Just urgent.
You take a step back, pulling her with you, off the main path and into the narrow space between buildings. Into an empty alley. Quiet and hidden.
'Wait—' she says, slightly breathless now. 'What are you—'
You stop, turn, and then you kiss her.
It’s not careful, its not tentative, its everything you didn’t say, everything you didn’t understand until now, everything that built up slowly and then all at once.
For half a second she doesn’t respond, caught off guard. Her hands hovering, unsure where to go. Then she pulls back, just slightly, not far, but enough.
Her breath is uneven as her eyes search yours. 'Are you sure?' She asks quietly.
Not rejecting, not pushing you away, just making sure.
Your chest rises and falls quickly. You don’t hesitate. 'Yeah,' you breathe. 'I’m sure.'
Your voice is soft but certain. More certain than you’ve been about anything in days.
And that’s all it takes. She kisses you back.
This time its different. Its still intense. But its grounded, more intentional.
Her hand comes up to your jaw, steadying you. Like she’s anchoring you there with her. And you completely melt into it.
Your hands find her—her jacket, the fabric bunching slightly under your fingers as you pull her closer. Like you need to feel that she’s real, that this is real.
The kiss deepens. Its not rushed, but full. Heavy with everything you’ve both been holding back. You can feel it in the way she responds. In the way she matches you, not overpowering, not overwhelming.
Just there with you, exactly where you are.
Your heart is racing. But it doesn’t feel chaotic anymore. It feels right.
When you finally pull back, its not far. Your foreheads rest together. Breathing shared in close proximity.
Neither of you speaks at first. You don’t need to. Not yet. Her thumb brushes lightly along your cheek. The same way yours did earlier. Gentler now. Softer.
'Okay.' She murmurs. It’s barely above a whisper, but it carries everything.
You let out a shaky breath. A small laugh slipping out without meaning to.
'Okay.' You echo.
She smiles, soft and relieved, like something she’s been holding onto has finally settled. And you realise that this wasn’t just impulse. It wasn’t just adrenaline. It wasn’t just the moment. It was building.
All of it. Every small thing, every quiet act, every look, every choice she made to show up for you.
And now, you chose her back.
Your fingers are still curled into her jacket. Her hand is still resting at your jaw. Neither of you moves away. Not yet.
Because for the first time, you’re not wondering what this is. You’re not second-guessing it. You’re not holding yourself back.
You’re just here, with her, exactly where you’re meant to be.
Summary: What starts as a simple walk in the snow quickly turns into playful chaos, teasing, and soft moments—reminding you that being with her makes even the cold feel warm.
Pairings: Daniela Avanzini x reader
Warning(s): fluff / teasing / you're both whipped
A/N: the request was long and specific so i havent included it above but just know the more specific the request, the better i can create what youre after :D
The apartment was quiet in that rare, peaceful way it only ever seemed to be in the mornings.
Snow fell steadily outside the window, soft and endless, coating the city in white. It blurred the edges of everything—buildings, streets, the world itself—until it all felt distant and calm.
Inside, though, it was warm.
The faint clink of cutlery against plates, the low hum of the heater, and Daniela’s voice—half talking, half mumbling—filled the space.
'I’m just saying,' she continued, leaning back in her chair with a dramatic sigh, 'if I had known I’d have a week off, I would’ve planned something.'
You glanced up at her over your mug. 'You did plan something.'
She raised an eyebrow.
'You planned to stay in, avoid the cold, and drag me into it with you.'
Her lips twitched. 'You wanted to stay.'
'You bribed me with breakfast.'
'That’s not bribery,' she argued. 'That’s being a good girlfriend.'
You paused for half a second. '…okay, fair.'
She smiled, satisfied, like she’d just won something small but important.
You shook your head, finishing the last of your drink before standing up and gathering both your plates. 'And now you’re bored.'
'I’m not bored.' She said quickly.
A moment passed.
'…I’m a little bored.'
You snorted, heading toward the sink. 'Shocking.'
'Hey—' she pointed at you as you turned the tap on, 'I could’ve gone somewhere, you know.'
'Mhm,' you hummed. 'But you didn’t.'
'Because it’s snowing.'
'And?'
'And I wanted to stay here.' She said, quieter now.
You glanced over your shoulder.
She wasn’t looking at you—just fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie.
'…with you.'
Your chest did something stupid.
You turned back to the sink quickly. 'That’s—yeah. Makes sense.'
Smooth. Very smooth.
Behind you, her chair scraped back.
'I’m gonna change,' Daniela said, already heading toward the hallway. 'Don’t go anywhere.'
'Where would I go?' You muttered.
'Exactly. Stay there.'
You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile there as she disappeared.
The apartment felt different when she wasn’t in the room. Quieter.
You rinsed the dishes slowly, listening to the soft sounds of movement from down the hall—drawers opening, fabric shifting, the occasional thud of something being dropped.
You dried your hands, glancing out the window again. It really did look nice. Cold. But nice.
'Okay, wait—'
You turned. And immediately had to pretend you didn’t.
Daniela stood there in the doorway, already bundled up—coat on, scarf loosely wrapped, hair slightly messy in that way that made it look like she hadn’t tried but somehow still looked better than she should.
Her eyes were bright. Way too bright.
'What?' You asked, forcing your tone to stay normal.
'Let’s go out.'
You blinked. 'Out?'
'Yeah,' she nodded, stepping closer. 'It’s snowing—it’s actually nice out. We can go for a walk, grab coffee, and—' she paused, remembering, '—we can go to Sophia’s. I think everyone’s there.'
You stared at her. 'You just said you didn’t want to go out.'
'I changed my mind.'
'Because?'
She shrugged. 'Because it looks nice. And I want to.'
There was a pause as she stepped closer.
'Come on,' she said, softer now, reaching out to tug lightly at your sleeve. 'It’ll be fun.'
That did it. It happens every time.
You exhaled slowly, already losing the argument you hadn’t even started. '…you’re annoying.'
'That’s not a no.'
'It’s barely a yes.'
'I’ll take it.'
You shook your head, turning toward the hallway. 'I’m going to shower.'
'Yes!' She said, way too excited for something so small.
'If I freeze, I’m blaming you.'
'I’ll warm you up.' She shot back instantly.
You paused mid-step. '…don’t say things like that.'
She laughed. 'Go shower.'
The heat of the shower wrapped around you, easing the chill you hadn’t even stepped into yet. You stayed there longer than necessary, letting yourself relax.
But your mind wandered anyway. To her. The way she’d said I wanted to stay here… with you.
The way she’d looked at you just now.
You leaned your head back against the wall, exhaling. 'Yeah,' you muttered to yourself. 'I’m gone.'
Completely.
You turned the water off. And when you stepped back out, fully dressed and layered, Daniela was already waiting by the door.
Of course she was. Leaning there like she hadn’t been pacing two seconds ago, phone in hand but clearly not using it.
Waiting.
'You took forever.' She said.
'You rushed me.'
'I did not.'
'You absolutely did.'
She smiled anyway, pushing herself off the wall and stepping closer—close enough to fix your scarf without asking.
Her fingers brushed your neck briefly. 'You’ll be cold.' She said, adjusting it properly.
You swallowed. 'I’ll survive.'
'Barely.' She muttered.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing your coat. 'You ready?'
'Always.'
She reached for the door. Cold air rushed in immediately.
You both paused.
'…last chance to stay inside.' You said.
Daniela stepped out anyway. 'Too late.'
You sighed but followed anyway.
The cold hit instantly, sharp but refreshing. Snow crunched under your boots as you walked, the world quiet and still around you.
Daniela bumped her shoulder lightly against yours. 'See? Its not that bad.'
'…I’ll decide that in five minutes.'
She laughed, slipping her hand into yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t even hesitate. Just held on.
'…you planned this.' You muttered.
'I did not.'
'You did.'
'Okay, maybe a little.'
You smiled despite yourself, squeezing her hand slightly as you both walked further into the snow.
---
The cold settled in properly after a few minutes. Not unbearable—but enough to make you tuck your chin deeper into your scarf and squeeze Daniela’s hand just a little tighter.
The streets were quieter than usual, snow softening every sound. Your footsteps crunched in sync, breath visible in the air, the world feeling slower—gentler.
For a moment, it was calm. Then Daniela let go of your hand.
You frowned slightly, glancing over. 'Where are you—'
She didn’t answer. Just jogged ahead of you, boots kicking up snow as she moved a few feet away.
'Dani?' You called, suspicious already.
She crouched. That’s when it clicked.
'No—' you pointed at her immediately. 'Don’t.'
She ignored you, already scooping up snow.
'Daniela.'
Still nothing.
'Don’t do it.'
She stood, turned, and threw it. It hit you square in the face. Immediate coldness.
You froze. Completely still, snow clinging to your cheeks, your nose and your lashes.
There was a second—just one—where everything stopped. Then you slowly stuck your tongue out, spitting out a bit of snow.
'…oh my god.'
Daniela’s hand flew to her mouth. 'I didn’t mean to hit your face—'
You didn’t respond. Just stared at her. Expression blank. Dangerously blank.
'…don’t.' She said, taking a small step back.
Too late.
You bent down, grabbing a pile of snow—not even bothering to pack it properly, just scooping up as much as you could hold.
You stood, turning to get a good angle when she turned away slightly, distracted now—muttering something to herself as she crouched again.
'…wait, this would be cute—'
You stepped closer behind her. Quiet and focused. Snow piled in your hands, ready to absolutely end her.
She still hadn’t noticed. Too busy shaping something small in the snow.
You lifted your arm, and right as you were about to throw it, she turned around.
'Look—'
You stopped dead in your tracks.
In her hands sat the smallest, messiest little snowman. Barely formed. A bit uneven. But she was smiling like she’d just created something incredible—eyes soft, proud, a little excited.
It hit you instantly.
You couldn’t do it. Not when she looked like that. Your arm hovered mid-air for a second longer, your brain trying to catch up with your heart.
'…you’re kidding me.' You muttered under your breath.
And then you threw the snow at yourself. It hit your own face with a soft whump, snow scattering slightly on impact.
Silence.
Daniela blinked. '…what?'
You stood there for a second, snow melting against your skin, dripping slightly down your cheek.
Then you lowered your hand, looked at her and shook your head once then turned.
'I’m going to get coffee.' You said, already walking past her. 'I can’t do this.'
'Wait—what just happened?!' Daniela laughed, quickly standing and running after you.
'Hey—hey, stop!'
You didn’t.
Arms crossed now, pace just a little faster than normal, like that would somehow help your dignity.
She caught up easily, stepping in front of you to stop you in your tracks.
'Why did you do that?' She asked, still laughing, breath visible between her words.
You avoided her gaze immediately. 'I don’t want to talk about it.'
'No, you have to,' she insisted, smiling. 'You just threw snow at yourself.'
You groaned, dragging a hand over your face—only making it worse. 'Because...' You started, then stopped.
She waited. Patient. Still smiling.
'…because I couldn’t throw it at you.' You muttered finally.
Her expression softened instantly. 'Why?'
You glanced at her, then away again just as fast. 'Because you looked at me all… happy,' you said. 'With your stupid little snowman.'
'It’s not stupid.' She defended lightly.
'It is,' you said. 'It’s tiny.'
'It’s cute.'
'It’s falling apart.'
'So rude.' She laughed.
There was a pause. Then, she said softly, 'You really couldn’t throw it at me?'
You shook your head, a little embarrassed now. 'No.'
She stepped closer. Closer than before.
Her hand lifted gently, brushing away the remaining snow from your face—fingers careful as they wiped along your cheek, your nose… your eyelashes.
'You’ve got snow everywhere.' She murmured.
'I noticed.'
'Stay still.'
You did. Of course you did. Her thumb brushed just under your eye, catching the last bits of melting snow.
For a second, neither of you moved. She smiled, soft and fond as she then leaned in.
The kiss was gentle—warm despite the cold, quick but lingering just enough to make your brain completely shut down.
When she pulled back, she didn’t go far. Just enough to look at you.
'You’re ridiculous.' She said quietly.
'You did this to me.' You replied.
'Did I?'
'Yes.'
She smiled again, like she knew exactly what she was doing. Then reached for your hand and laced your fingers together.
'Come on,' she said, tugging you lightly. 'Let’s get coffee before you freeze.'
You let her pull you along, still a little dazed, still very much recovering.
'…I hate you.' You muttered.
'No you don’t.'
'…yeah,' you sighed, squeezing her hand slightly. 'I really don’t.'
---
Daniela didn’t let go of your hand. Not even as you continued down the street, snow crunching beneath your boots, the cold still biting—but easier now, warmer somehow.
Probably because of her. Probably because of the kiss.
'Can’t believe you threw snow at yourself.' She said after a moment, voice light, clearly still thinking about it.
You groaned. 'Oh my god, please just drop it.'
'I can’t,' she laughed. 'That was—'
'Don’t.'
'—the funniest thing I’ve seen all week.'
You stopped walking and slowly turned your head toward her. '…I will throw snow at you this time.'
She raised an eyebrow, clearly not taking you seriously. 'No you won’t.'
'I will.'
'You won’t.'
You narrowed your eyes, letting go of her hand just long enough to bend down slightly—not even fully committing.
She didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. Just stood there, watching you with a small smile like she knew exactly how this would go.
You straightened back up. '…okay, maybe I won’t.'
She laughed, stepping closer again and bumping her shoulder into yours. 'Exactly.'
'You’re so annoying.' You muttered, lacing your fingers back with hers.
'And you’re so predictable.'
'Only for you.'
That slipped out. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that. But it did.
Daniela blinked. Just slightly as her grip on your hand tightened a little. '…only for me?' She echoed.
You shrugged, trying to play it off. 'Yeah. I wouldn’t throw snow at myself for just anyone, you know.'
She huffed out a quiet laugh, but there was something softer in it now.
'Good,' she said. 'I’d be offended.'
'You should be,' you nodded. 'It was a very exclusive moment.'
She shook her head, smiling to herself as you both kept walking.
The café wasn’t far. A small, warm looking place tucked into the corner of the street, windows fogged slightly from the heat inside.
The second you stepped in, the temperature shift hit instantly. Warm. Comfortable.
The smell of coffee and baked goods wrapped around you, thawing out your fingers and cheeks.
'Oh my god,' you breathed. 'I’m never leaving.'
'Yes you are,' Daniela laughed, nudging you toward the counter. 'We have places to be.'
'That's unfortunate.'
You stayed close together while waiting, still half-bundled in your coats as you scanned the menu.
'You’re ordering for everyone, right?' She asked.
'Obviously.'
She glanced at you. 'You remember everyone’s orders?'
You gave her a look. 'Of course I do.'
She smiled a little at that. Soft and fond.
'Okay,' she said. 'Go on then.'
You stepped up to the counter, listing them off without hesitation—
'One iced latte with oat milk, one caramel latte, one vanilla cold brew, one iced matcha latte, one hot chocolate—.'
You paused.
'Two more—'
You glanced sideways at Daniela. She was already looking at you.
'…one hazelnut latte.' You finished quietly.
'For you.' She said.
'You nodded.' You nodded.
'And one—' you turned back to the cashier, '—just a regular latte.'
'For me.' Daniela smiled to herself again, subtle but there.
'You didn’t even have to ask.' She said once you stepped aside.
'I don’t need to.'
'That’s kind of scary.'
'It’s called paying attention.'
She leaned slightly closer. 'So you’ve been studying me?'
You didn’t miss a beat. 'Obviously.'
That one hit. You saw it instantly—the way her expression shifted, just a little. The way she looked at you, then away.
'…oh.' She said, quieter now.
You tilted your head, smirking slightly. 'What?'
'Nothing.'
'You’re flustered.'
'I’m not.'
'You are.'
'I’m not.' She repeated, but she wasn’t looking at you anymore, fiddling with the sleeve of her coat.
You stepped closer. 'Daniela.'
'What.'
You leaned in just slightly, voice softer. 'You’re blushing.'
She let out a small, embarrassed laugh, turning her head away. 'Stop.'
'No.'
'Stop.'
'Make me.'
She glanced back at you. Big mistake. Because you were already smiling. That same look she’d given you earlier. Soft and fond.
And now it was her turn.
'…you’re annoying.' She muttered.
'And you love me.'
She didn’t even hesitate this time. 'I do.'
That landed heavier than either of you expected. You blinked.
'…okay.'
She smiled again, gentler now. 'Okay.'
By the time the drinks were ready, your hands were full—carefully balancing the tray as you stepped back out into the cold.
'Careful.' Daniela said, immediately reaching out to steady it.
'I’ve got it.'
'I know.' She said, but kept her hand there anyway. Just in case.
You adjusted your grip. 'If I drop these, I’m blaming you.'
'How is that my fault?'
'You distracted me.'
'With what?'
You glanced at her. '…existing.'
She froze for half a second. '…you can’t just say things like that.'
'You started it.' You shrugged.
'I did not.'
'You did.'
She shook her head, laughing under her breath as you both started walking again.
By the time you reached Sophia’s apartment, your fingers were cold again—but the drinks were still intact.
Barely.
You knocked once before pushing the door open. Warmth hit you instantly. Voices. Laughter.
'Oh—finally!' Sophia called from inside. 'What took you so long?'
You stepped in carefully. 'We brought peace offerings.'
'Coffee!' Megan cheered.
Daniela closed the door behind you, already slipping out of her coat. The girls gathered quickly, taking their drinks, immediately settling back into their usual chaos.
'You remembered my order?' Lara asked, surprised.
'Of course I did.' You said.
'Aww.' Yoonchae smiled, taking her hot chocolate.
'You’re actually the best.' Manon added.
'Yeah, yeah.' You waved it off.
Sophia, however, was looking between you and Daniela. Smiling. Slowly.
'…what?' You asked.
'Nothing.' She said.
'Don’t do that.'
'Do what?'
'That look.'
She laughed. 'You two are just very… cute.'
You groaned immediately, turning away. Daniela just smiled, stepping closer to you again, shoulder brushing yours.
'See?' She murmured. 'Not just me.'
'Don’t encourage her.'
'Too late.'
You shook your head, but your hand found hers again anyway. Like it always did.
---
The apartment settled into its usual rhythm quickly.
Coats abandoned, shoes kicked off, everyone spread out across the living room—some on the couch, some on the floor, drinks in hand, conversations overlapping in that familiar, chaotic way.
Warm, loud and comfortable.
You ended up half-sitting on the arm of the couch, your leg pressed lightly against Daniela’s thigh where she sat, your fingers loosely hooked into the sleeve of her hoodie without even thinking about it.
She noticed. Of course she did.
Her hand rested over yours absentmindedly, thumb brushing lightly back and forth as she listened to whatever Sophia and Lara were arguing about now.
'…I’m just saying, that doesn’t make sense logically—' Sophia insisted.
'It does if you think about it properly.' Lara shot back.
'You’re both wrong.' Megan added.
'Thank you.' Yoonchae nodded.
'You didn’t even hear the argument.' Manon laughed.
'I don’t need to.'
You smiled faintly to yourself, not really paying attention anymore—just warm, comfortable, and a little tired from the cold.
Daniela shifted slightly beside you. 'You’re cold.' She murmured, quiet enough that it was just for you.
'I’m fine.'
'You’re not.'
Before you could argue, she tugged gently at your hand, pulling you closer until you slid properly onto the couch beside her.
'Dani—'
'Come here.' She said softly.
And that was it. No fight. You leaned into her, your shoulder pressed against hers, your head just barely tipping toward her.
Her arm settled around you naturally, like it had done this a hundred times before. Because it had.
'You good?' She asked quietly.
'Yeah.'
She hummed, satisfied, her hand rubbing lightly over your arm. '…your face still cold?' She added after a second.
You let out a small huff of a laugh. 'You mean from when you assaulted me with a snowball?'
'I said I was sorry.'
'You hit me directly in the face.'
'I didn’t mean to!'
'You did.'
'I didn’t!'
You turned your head slightly, looking at her. 'You absolutely did.'
She smiled, soft and a little guilty. Then without thinking, she reached up, brushing her fingers gently over your cheek, like she was checking for something that wasn’t there anymore.
'…I felt bad,' she said quietly. 'You looked so shocked.'
Your brain paused. Because that tone sounded a little too honest.
'You literally stopped moving,' she continued, still gently touching your face. 'And then you just stood there with snow on your lashes and—' she smiled to herself, '—I thought you were gonna cry.'
'I was not going to cry.' You said immediately.
'You looked like it.'
'I was cold!'
'I know,' she said, softer now. 'I didn’t like it.'
The room went quiet. Not immediately. But gradually. One by one, conversations died down. Because everyone had heard.
Daniela froze, hand still on your face, her brain catching up way too late.
Slowly, she looked up.
Sophia was staring. Lara was staring. Manon had her eyebrows raised so high they were practically gone. Megan looked like she was trying not to laugh.
And Yoonchae? She's just blinking. Processing.
'…what?' Daniela said, way too quickly.
No one answered.
'You guys are weird,' she added, immediately pulling her hand back and sitting up straighter. 'Why are you all looking at me like that?'
'Oh, I don’t know,' Sophia said slowly. 'Maybe because you just—'
'Anyway!' Daniela cut in abruptly, turning to you. 'This one—'
She pointed at you. '—threw snow at herself earlier.'
You blinked. '…you’re switching the topic right now?'
'Yes.'
'Very obviously.'
'Yeah.'
'No,' Manon said immediately. 'We’re not moving past that.'
'Not at all.' Lara agreed.
'You didn’t like it?' Megan repeated, looking at Daniela.
Daniela visibly regretted everything. 'I—no, I mean—'
'You felt bad?' Sophia added.
'It wasn’t like that—'
'You thought she was going to cry?' Yoonchae said, tilting her head.
'I did not say that like that—'
'You literally did.' You said, fully betraying her.
Daniela turned to you so fast. 'You’re supposed to be on my side.'
'I was,' you said. 'And then you exposed yourself.'
'I did not—'
'You did.' Megan laughed.
'That was crazy.' Manon added.
'That was so soft.' Lara grinned.
'I hate all of you.' Daniela muttered, dropping her face into her hands.
You couldn’t help it. You laughed. Actually laughed. Which only made it worse for her.
'Oh my god,' Sophia said, leaning back. 'Daniela is whipped.'
'I am not—'
'You are.' Yoonchae nodded.
'Look at them.' Megan added, gesturing between you both.
'She literally just admitted it.' Lara said.
'I did not—'
You leaned slightly toward her, lowering your voice just enough. 'You didn’t like it?' You repeated quietly.
She froze and peeked at you through her fingers. '…don’t.' She warned.
You smiled. The same way she had earlier. And that was it.
She groaned quietly, dropping her hands and leaning her head against your shoulder.
'See?' Sophia pointed. 'Exhibit A.'
'Leave her alone.' You said, though you were very much enjoying this.
'Protective too?' Manon laughed.
'Oh, they’re both gone.' Megan said.
'Fully.' Lara nodded.
Daniela just stayed there, hiding slightly against you now. 'You’re all so annoying.' She mumbled.
You tilted your head lightly against hers. 'Yeah, but you love them.'
'…unfortunately... I love you more though.'
That shut you up. Completely.
'…okay.' You said after a second, voice softer now.
The girls lost it.
'OH MY GOD—'
'HELLO?!'
'DANIELA—'
She just laughed this time, no longer trying to hide, lifting her head slightly but staying close.
Your hand found hers again, fingers slipping together easily.
The room filled back up with noise, teasing, laughter—but it faded into the background for you.
Because she was still right there, close and warm, looking at you like that again.
'…you’re embarrassing.' You muttered.
'You started it.'
'I did not.'
'You absolutely did.'
You shook your head, smiling anyway, squeezing her hand lightly. '…yeah,' you admitted. 'Worth it.'
Request: Yes / No
'I was wondering if you could do a fic to the would you rather interview'
Summary: You and your members take on a chaotic game of Would You Rather, turning every question into loud debates, playful teasing, and pure madness.
Pairings: Katseye x 7th member / Megan x reader
Warning(s): nothing... just pure chaos like usual
A/N: this was kind of a hard one to write as some of these answers are definitely a bit biased and based on what I’d choose, so they might not match what you’d pick—and that’s okay! so feel free to imagine your own answers while reading or mentally argue with them😭
The London air felt heavier than it should have. Maybe it was the rain. Or the cold. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d already done ten interviews—and somehow still had ten more to go.
'Remind me why we said yes to everything?' Daniela groaned, slumping dramatically against the wall as the group was led down yet another hallway.
'…and because management said so.' Lara added under her breath, earning a few tired laughs.
You huffed quietly, adjusting the sleeve of your hoodie as you walked beside Megan. Your energy was somewhere between barely functioning and running purely on iced coffee and vibes.
Megan nudged your shoulder lightly. 'You good?'
You glanced at her, giving a small nod. 'Yeah. Just… if one more person asks me to describe the group in three words, I might actually lose it.'
That got a soft laugh out of her—quiet, just for you.
'Be creative,' she teased, her hand briefly brushing yours as you walked. 'Switch it up.'
'I did,' you muttered. 'I said ‘sleep deprived’ twice.'
This time she snorted, quickly covering it as the staff member in front of you pushed open a door.
'Alright guys, this is you.'
You stepped inside—and immediately, it felt different. The room was smaller than expected, but bright. Studio lights hung overhead, already warming the space, and the setup was simple but bold.
The floor—and the backdrop behind it—were split clean down the middle.
One side was a deep, bold red and the other a cool, saturated blue. A line ran between them like a boundary.
'Okay, that’s kinda cool.' Manon murmured, looking between the two sides.
'It’s for the game,' a producer explained, stepping forward with a friendly smile. 'You’ll be answering ‘Would You Rather’ questions by choosing a side. Red or blue.'
'Physically?' Daniela asked immediately, eyes lighting up despite her earlier complaints.
'Physically.' the producer confirmed.
'Oh, this is about to get heated.' She grinned.
You could already tell.
Staff moved around you, adjusting cameras, checking angles. A couple of them clipped mics onto your outfits, the familiar routine almost comforting at this point.
'Alright, we’re just going to get you all lined up first,' another voice called out. 'If you can step onto the marks for us.'
You looked down. Small pieces of tape were placed across the floor, spaced just enough for all of you to stand in a line—right along the divide between red and blue.
'Wait, are we starting neutral?' You asked, stepping toward your mark.
'Yeah,' the producer said. 'You’ll all start in the middle, then move depending on your answer.'
'Okay, that’s actually smart.' Yoonchae nodded, already stepping into place.
One by one, everyone shuffled into position, small adjustments and quiet chatter filling the space.
'Daniela, you’re slightly blocking—yeah, just half a step—perfect.'
'Sophia, can you turn a little toward camera two?'
'Megan, just a bit closer—yeah, that’s great.'
Megan ended up right next to you again, your shoulders almost brushing as you both settled into place. Without really thinking about it, her hand rested lightly against the back of your arm for a second—steadying, grounding—before she pulled it away like it was nothing.
You glanced sideways at her. 'Don’t copy my answers.'
She didn’t even hesitate. 'You’re going to copy mine.'
'Absolutely not.'
'Absolutely yes.'
She leaned just slightly closer, voice dropping. 'You literally always do.'
You turned your head toward her, offended. 'Name one time.'
She smiled, way too pleased with herself. 'Last interview.'
Before you could argue further, a voice cut through the room. 'Alright guys—quiet on set!'
The chatter died down almost instantly.
'Cameras ready?'
A few quick nods from behind the lights.
'Sound?'
'Sound’s good.'
The producer gave you all one last look, smiling slightly.
'Okay… whenever you’re ready, just relax. Have fun with it.'
You rolled your shoulders once, trying to shake off the last bit of fatigue. Around you, the others shifted, some already suppressing smiles, others clearly preparing to be as chaotic as possible.
You caught Megan’s eye again—just for a second. She gave you a small, reassuring look—soft, familiar. You felt her pinky briefly hook with yours at your side, quick and subtle.
And just like that, the tiredness didn’t feel quite as heavy.
'Alright.' The producer said. 'Rolling in three… two… one—'
'Hey, it’s Katseye!' You all said in unison, voices bright despite the long day.
'And we’re about to play Would You Rather with LADbible.' Sophia added smoothly, gesturing around you.
The cameras captured the full setup now—half the floor glowing red, the other half blue—your group lined up along the centre line, ready to split at any moment.
A producer off-camera called, 'Alright, first question!'
There was a brief pause.
'Would you rather have your group chat leaked… or your camera roll shared?'
There was a pause before the chaos hit.
Sophia let out a full-on scream. 'WHAT?!'
Everyone else gasped at the same time, a mix of shock and immediate regret.
'That is FOUL.' Lara said, already stepping back like she might leave the set entirely.
'No, no, no—who wrote that?' Daniela demanded, pointing accusingly toward the crew.
You just stared ahead, blinking. 'We can’t even ease into it? That’s the first question?'
Beside you, Megan leaned slightly closer, murmuring, 'Don’t even think about switching sides on me.'
You let out a small laugh. 'I’m not, relax.'
'Alright, choose your sides!' The producer called, clearly enjoying the reaction.
Almost instantly, people started moving—hesitating, doubling back, arguing mid-step.
You started toward blue—and without even looking, Megan moved with you at the exact same time, your shoulders bumping lightly as you both landed on the same side.
'Of course,' Sophia called from across the line, pointing at you both immediately. 'Of course you two are together.'
You didn’t even deny it.
You ended up on the blue side with Lara, Daniela, and Megan. Across from you, Manon, Sophia, and Yoonchae gathered on red, still looking mildly traumatised.
'Okay—group chat?' The producer clarified.
'Yeah,' Megan said, nodding firmly. 'The group chat is not worse than some of our camera rolls.'
Daniela pointed at her immediately. 'That’s true.'
'Thank you!' Megan said, like she’d just proven a major point.
You crossed your arms, nodding. 'I just don’t talk much in the group chat anyway. My camera roll… nobody wants to see that. I won’t allow it.'
Megan glanced at you, smirking slightly. 'Yeah, I’ve seen it. It’s bad.'
Your head snapped toward her. 'Okay—why are you exposing me right now?'
'I’m not exposing you,' she laughed. 'I’m supporting my argument.'
'That’s not support!'
'See!' Daniela gestured at you. 'Exactly. Some things are private.'
'Everything in my camera roll is private.' You added quickly, shooting Megan a look.
On the other side, Manon looked between you all in disbelief. 'But the group chat is where we share all of our worst photos.'
Sophia nodded, stepping closer to her. 'If you really think about it—'
'—it’s actually worse.' They finished at the same time, pointing at each other.
'Not our craziest photos.' Megan shot back instantly.
You hesitated for a second, then added, '…y’all haven’t seen my wildest photos. I can’t bring myself to share them.'
That earned a reaction.
'Oh my—what does that even mean?' Lara laughed, turning toward you.
Megan looked at you again, eyebrows slightly raised. 'Wildest?'
You avoided her gaze immediately. 'Don’t worry about it.'
'I’m worrying about it.' She said, quieter now, but amused.
'I don’t want to know.' Manon said quickly, shaking her head.
'I definitely want to know.' Daniela cut in.
Yoonchae, still standing calmly on the blue side, shrugged slightly. 'I don’t really have crazy photos.'
There was a pause. Then Megan and Lara both turned toward her at the exact same time.
'What?' Megan laughed. 'What is she talking about?'
'Yeah, what do you mean?' Lara added, incredulous.
You pointed straight at Yoonchae. 'Exactly. Yoonchae’s too pure and sensible, meanwhile I’m out here taking the most random photos of like… a bruise.'
'A bruise?' Sophia repeated, already laughing.
'Yeah!' You defended. 'Or like—something weird on the floor. Or a blurry screenshot I’ll never look at again.'
'That’s actually so true,' Daniela said, nodding. 'You do that.'
'Thank you.' You said, vindicated.
Megan bumped her shoulder lightly into yours. 'You have fourty photos of the same thing too.'
You gasped. 'That’s called getting the right angle.'
'Of what? The floor?' She shot back.
'Yes.'
'Wait, wait,' Manon cut in, pointing between you and Megan. 'So you’re saying your camera roll is worse than our group chat?' She mimed scrolling on a phone.
'Yes.' You and Megan said at the same time.
'Absolutely.' Megan added.
'Absolutely.' You echoed, a second later, trying not to smile.
From the other side, Sophia made a loud, dramatic noise. 'This is SICK. You’re literally the same person.'
The producer’s laugh could be heard faintly from behind the camera. 'Alright,' they said, trying to regain control, 'final answers locked in?'
'Unfortunately.' Sophia muttered.
'Yeah,' Lara sighed. 'I already regret this game.'
'Same.' You said.
Megan nudged your arm lightly. 'You’ll survive.'
You glanced at her, a small smile slipping through. 'Barely.'
'And it’s been one question.'
---
'Alright,' the producer called, barely holding back a smile, 'next one.'
You all reset slightly, shuffling back toward the centre line.
As you stepped back, Megan’s hand briefly found your wrist, giving it a small squeeze before letting go—like a quiet reset between rounds.
'Would you rather only be able to talk like you’re in a rap battle…'
A few of the girls were already reacting.
'…or only be able to talk like a Shakespearean character?'
There was a brief pause and then immediate movement.
Daniela was the first to move, grabbing Lara’s wrist and dragging her toward the blue side.
'Rap battle!' She declared.
'Rap battle.' Megan echoed, following right behind her—but not before glancing back at you, like she fully expected you to follow.
'Rap battle.' Lara added, laughing as she's basically dragged onto the blue side.
Manon and Yoonchae joined them pretty quickly, both nodding along.
'I think I could do it,' Manon said. 'It’d be fun.'
Meanwhile, Sophia confidently walked to the red side alone, completely unfazed. 'I think it would make me stand out.'
That left you. Still in the middle.
You giggled under your breath, half-leaning against Daniela’s shoulder as she moved away from you, leaving you momentarily stranded between both sides.
Instead of choosing, you just… stayed there. Staring into space like you were genuinely weighing your entire identity on this decision.
'Rap battle.' Megan repeated again, a little louder this time, like she was trying to pull you over by sheer will.
When you didn’t move, she tilted her head slightly, squinting at you. 'Don’t start.'
You just smiled to yourself, still planted firmly in place.
'Rap battle.' Daniela and Lara echoed, the three of them unintentionally syncing up.
You snorted a little at that, still not moving.
On the other side, Sophia lifted her chin slightly. 'Like what have the—'
'THYYY—' Daniela suddenly interrupted, dramatically pointing at her.
You lost it. A full snort-laugh escaped you, doubling over slightly. Instinctively, your hand reached out—grabbing onto Megan’s arm to steady yourself as you laughed. 'That’s the only word you know?!' You managed.
Megan laughed too, glancing down at where you were holding onto her before looking back at you, amused. 'You good?'
Daniela shrugged, completely unashamed. 'It’s the main one!'
Lara was laughing beside you now too, nudging your arm.
Sophia, trying to stay composed, continued, 'I think it would— it would… it’s kind of aura.'
'Aura?' Manon repeated, amused.
'It’s very poetic,' Lara added, still laughing. 'Everything is cryptic.'
'Yeah,' Sophia nodded, warming to her point. 'It’s cryptic, and it’d make me ponder a lot.'
She paused, then added thoughtfully, 'Maybe I’ll read more Shakespeare and actually start doing that.'
'Please don’t.' Megan said immediately.
She shifted slightly closer to you as she said it, shoulder brushing yours again like it was the most natural thing in the world.
'Actually, please do,' Daniela countered. 'I want to see that.'
The host jumped in, grinning. 'What if you’re trying to have a serious conversation and you’re just… rapping through it?'
That was all it took. Lara immediately turned to Megan, squaring up like it was real.
'Listen—' She started, bouncing slightly to a rhythm that didn’t exist.
Megan caught on instantly. 'No, you listen—'
You instinctively leaned a little toward Megan, watching her with a small smile like you already knew she was about to fully commit to this.
'Oh my god.' Yoonchae muttered, already laughing.
'It’ll be funny!' Lara insisted, fully committing now.
They both started throwing out nonsense lines, half laughing, half rapping, completely unserious.
'Yeah, I got the flow—' Megan started.
'—but you’re moving too slow—' Lara shot back.
Megan pointed at her, hyping herself up. 'Don’t test me—'
'Stoppp.' Manon groaned, covering her face.
You laughed quietly to yourself, shaking your head. 'This is embarrassing.'
Megan glanced at you immediately. 'You’re embarrassing.'
'Me?' You shot back, offended.
'Yes, you. Standing in the middle like you’re special.'
'I am special.' You replied without missing a beat.
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile there.
The host laughed, then pointed toward you. 'What about you, Y/N? Where are you standing? Just… in the middle?'
All eyes turned to you.
You straightened slightly, glancing at the blue side—where Megan was watching you expectantly—then the red… then back at the camera.
'I can’t choose,' you admitted. 'I’m rapping in Shakespearean, I think.'
From the blue side, Megan let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, shaking her head like she absolutely called this outcome.
'Of course you are.' Daniela said.
'Go on then,' Sophia gestured, clearly entertained. 'Let’s hear it.'
You took a small step forward—still firmly in the middle—clearing your throat like you were about to perform something serious.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Megan watching you now—fully focused.
Then, with full commitment,
'Thou speaks loud yet lacketh any flame,
Mine bars dost strike thee down—remember mine name,
From fairest tongue I spit with rhythm most divine,
Thou art but background noise… whilst I outshine.'
The room was dead silent. Megan blinked once.
'What was that?!' She burst out laughing, doubling over slightly.
You grinned immediately, looking straight at her. 'That was talent.'
'No, wait—that was actually good!' Manon said, pointing at you.
Daniela just stared. 'Why do you know how to do that?'
You shrugged casually. 'Told you. Best of both worlds.'
Megan looked at you again, still smiling, a little softer now. 'You’ve been hiding that this whole time?'
You tilted your head. 'Maybe.'
Sophia looked genuinely impressed. 'See? That’s what I’m saying. That was aura.'
'Don’t encourage this.' Lara laughed.
'I’m encouraged.' You said immediately.
Megan nudged your foot lightly from across the line. 'Yeah, we can tell.'
The producer’s voice cut in again, still laughing. 'Alright—final positions?'
'Rap!' Daniela said, dragging the attention back.
'Shakespearean.' Sophia said, standing her ground alone.
'And… middle.' You added proudly.
'Of course.' The host shook their head.
Megan glanced at you one more time, still half-smiling. 'You’re so annoying.'
You smiled right back. 'You love it.'
She didn’t even hesitate. 'Unfortunately.'
From the side, Lara made a loud noise. 'UGH. Can we move on?!'
---
'Alright, next question! Would you rather be a mermaid… or be a fairy?'
There was barely even a pause before people started moving. You stepped onto the blue side with Sophia, Megan, Manon, and Lara almost instinctively.
As you settled, your arm brushed Megan’s for a second—but before it could turn into anything more, Manon leaned into you from the other side, looping her arm loosely around yours.
Across from you, Daniela and Yoonchae landed on red—and immediately looked like they were ready to fight for their lives.
'Fairy!' Daniela said, already gesturing wildly. 'Why is no one choosing fairy?!'
'Yeah!' Yoonchae backed her up, pointing at all of you. 'You can fly!'
'I love the ocean.' Lara shot back instantly from your side.
'But you can’t breathe outside.' Yoonchae argued.
Megan stepped forward like she’d just been personally attacked. 'Mermaids can do both.'
'We have special powers.' Lara added, backing her up without hesitation.
'Fairies can’t breathe underwater.' Megan continued, folding her arms like she’d just ended the debate.
You nodded along absentmindedly—but your attention wasn’t really on the argument.
Manon had leaned more comfortably against you now, her head tipping slightly toward yours as she laughed at something Daniela said.
You didn’t move away—just let it happen, still half-focused on the conversation.
From your other side, Megan went a little quieter.
'Yeah,' she said, not missing a beat in the debate, 'but what is there to discover up in the air?'
Yoonchae opened her mouth—and Sophia jumped in first.
'We’ve already gone up, up and beyond,' she said, gesturing dramatically upward. 'We haven’t gone down, down and below yet.'
There was a brief pause as that registered.
'…why did that kind of make sense?' Daniela muttered.
Meanwhile, you had completely checked out. Tucked slightly under Manon’s arm as she leaned against you, you stared straight into the camera with a blank expression.
'They’re fighting again,' you said flatly. 'We’d be insane at debate club.'
Manon giggled right next to your ear, her grip tightening slightly as she laughed.
'Honestly,' she whispered, 'we’d win everything.'
You smiled a little at that, tilting your head slightly toward hers without thinking.
From beside you, Megan glanced over. Just for a second. Then she looked back at the others, jaw tightening ever so slightly as the conversation kept going.
'Y/N,' Daniela suddenly called from across the divide, pointing at you. 'What was your reasoning?'
You didn’t even hesitate. 'I watched H2O: Just Add Water growing up,' you deadpanned. 'I wanted my profession to be a mermaid. Need I say more?'
Manon lost it, laughing into your shoulder.
Megan let out a small, disbelieving laugh—but her eyes flicked back to where Manon was still leaning on you.
'You were going to apply for that?' Lara added, grinning.
'I had plans.' You said seriously.
'I didn’t know this would be the most divisive one.' The host said, sounding almost apologetic as the noise kept rising.
Sophia suddenly pointed at Lara. 'You and your fairy tattoo.'
'I know!' Lara said, hands up in defence. 'I love a fairy. But I’d rather be a mermaid.'
'Fake fan.' Daniela muttered.
'Excuse me?!' Lara snapped back, laughing.
'And what if I am a fairy,' Sophia started, stepping forward slightly, 'and someone mistakes me for a mosquito and just—zaps me?'
'Oh my god, that’s actually a valid concern.' You said immediately.
'Thank you!' Sophia pointed at you.
'No, because imagine,' Manon added, now fully invested, still comfortably against you, 'you’re just flying peacefully and then—'
'—psst—gone.' Megan finished, flicking her fingers.
Her tone was light—but she stepped a little closer this time. Not quite between you and Manon.
But close.
'Okay but that wouldn’t happen to me.' Daniela argued.
'Why?' You asked.
'I have presence.' Daniela said confidently.
Everyone stared at her.
'…mosquitoes also have presence.' Lara replied.
'That’s not the same thing!'
'Yes it is!'
'No, it’s not—'
'Alright, okay—' The host tried to cut in, laughing.
Too late. Everyone was talking over each other now.
'Mermaids would literally eat you—'
'They would not eat me!'
'You don’t know that!'
'You’re not even in their eco-system!'
'Exactly, so why would they trust you?!'
'Because I’m friendly?!'
'Fish don’t care if you’re friendly!'
Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, Megan moved again. This time, she stepped right up next to you—close enough that your arms brushed properly.
Her hand lightly touched your side for a second, like she was guiding you back toward her without making a big deal of it. You shifted automatically.
Manon was still mid-argument, still laughing—but as you adjusted, you naturally leaned away from her and into Megan instead.
It was subtle. Easy. Like it had always been that way.
Megan relaxed almost instantly, her shoulder pressing lightly against yours. You didn’t even look at her—just let yourself settle there, comfortable.
'Oh god,' you muttered, dragging a hand down your face as the argument spiralled. 'Let’s move on before this gets out of hand again.'
Right next to you, Megan let out a quiet laugh—way softer now.
'Again?' She echoed.
'It’s already out of hand!' Manon added from your other side, still animated.
'Okay, okay!' The producer called, clearly trying not to laugh. 'Final answers—lock them in!'
'Mermaid!' Most of you said at once.
'Fairy!' Daniela and Yoonchae insisted, still unconvinced.
You just shook your head slightly, smiling to yourself.
Megan nudged you lightly with her shoulder. 'Mermaid was the right choice.'
You glanced at her, lips tugging up a little. 'Obviously.'
From behind you, Lara made a noise. 'You two are insufferable.'
---
'Alright,' the host said, smiling as the group settled again. 'Next one.'
'Would you rather perform with Destiny’s Child… or perform with the Spice Girls?'
This time, the reactions were immediate—but way less panicked. People moved quickly.
Lara, Manon, Daniela, Yoonchae, and Sophia all gathered on the blue side without too much hesitation.
Meanwhile, you and Megan drifted over to the red side together—your arms brushing slightly as you walked, like neither of you even thought about separating.
Megan started swaying almost instantly, a weird little side-to-side motion like she was already on stage.
'I kinda wanna have some fun—' She said, dragging the words out dramatically.
You turned to her, blinking. 'Girl, what.'
Sophia cackled from across the set, pointing straight at Megan. 'LOOK AT HER—'
Megan laughed, immediately ducking behind you like you were a human shield.
You laughed too, trying to shove her away slightly. 'Don’t hide now—commit to it!'
From the other side, Daniela made a noise. 'Why is she always hiding behind you?!'
'Because that’s her emotional support person,' Lara added instantly.
'That’s SICK.' Sophia said, still laughing.
'No, literally look at them,' Manon chimed in. 'They didn’t even hesitate—same side, same spot—'
'—attached at the hip,' Yoonchae finished.
'We’re just right.' Megan shot back, peeking out from behind you again.
'Disgusting.' Daniela said, though she was smiling.
'Actually disgusting.' Lara agreed.
'No one asked.' You muttered, but you were smiling.
'You didn’t have to ask—we’re witnessing it live.' Sophia said.
'Yeah, unfortunately.' Daniela added.
'Anyway—' Lara tried to continue, still grinning, 'I love the Spice Girls. I would love to perform with both deeply.'
'Yeah,' Manon nodded. 'This one’s hard.'
'You are in London, so…' The host added casually.
There was a split second where that landed.
Megan popped her head out from behind you. 'Exactly.' She said—in a very questionable British accent.
You froze. '…no.'
From the other side, Sophia pointed again. 'OH NO—don’t encourage her—'
But it was too late. A grin spread across your face as you turned slightly toward her, lowering your voice.
'If you wanna be my lover…' You sang quietly, matching her tone—and her terrible accent.
The reaction was immediate.
'NO WAY—' Daniela shouted.
'THEY’RE DOING IT AGAIN—' Lara laughed.
Megan immediately joined in. 'You gotta get with my friends—'
'Make it last forever—'
'—friendship never ends—'
The two of you started swaying in sync now, barely holding in laughter as you continued under your breath.
Across the set, chaos.
'Oh my god, I can’t watch this—' Sophia said, covering her face.
'Why are they like this?' Yoonchae laughed.
'This is actually painful,' Daniela added, though she wasn’t looking away.
'…if you wanna be my lover—'
Now you were both doing small, exaggerated dance moves, shoulders bouncing slightly as the memory clicked into place. It wasn’t just the song. It was that performance.
Your expression shifted slightly—half amused, half nostalgic—as you started recreating a move from your trainee evaluation days.
Megan noticed instantly. 'No way—' She laughed, joining in.
From across the line, Manon pointed aggressively. 'SEE—THIS IS WHAT I MEAN—'
'They’re in their own world!' Lara yelled.
'HELLO? We’re still filming!' Daniela added.
Both of you were now fully committing—bad British accents, exaggerated choreo, completely unserious.
You let out a small, embarrassed groan, quickly stepping forward and wrapping your arms around Megan from behind, hiding your face against her shoulder.
Megan laughed, not even trying to move away. She just reached back slightly, holding your arms where they were wrapped around her, giving them a couple of light pats.
It was gentle—automatic.
'LOOK AT THAT—' Yoonchae pointed. 'She didn’t even react! That’s normal for them!'
'Yeah, that’s routine.' Daniela said.
'That’s muscle memory.' Lara added.
'It was good!' Manon called out, still laughing.
'No it wasn’t.' You mumbled into Megan’s shoulder.
'It was accurate.' Daniela added.
'That’s worse!'
Megan was still smiling, glancing back at you. 'We ate that, actually.'
From the side, Sophia made a loud noise. 'YOU DID NOT—'
You lifted your head just enough to look at her. '…we did not.'
'We did.'
'Stop lying.'
'I’m not—'
'Alright!' The host cut in, laughing. 'Final answers locked?'
'Destiny’s Child!' Most of them said again.
'Spice Girls.' Megan said confidently.
You sighed, reluctantly letting go of her and stepping back into place—but not before your hand brushed hers again for a second.
'…Spice Girls.' You repeated, still a little embarrassed—but smiling.
From the blue side, Daniela shook her head. 'I’m actually sick of you two.'
'Same.' Sophia added.
Lara nodded. 'Like… happy for you. But also—'
'—break up.' Yoonchae finished.
Manon just laughed. 'No, don’t break up. Just… maybe stand on different sides once?'
Megan didn’t even look away from you. 'No.'
You smiled slightly. 'No.'
'See?!' Daniela shouted.
---
'Okay,' the host said, glancing at the next card. 'This one might get interesting.'
You were already suspicious.
'Would you rather accidentally post your drafts… or accidentally like your ex’s post?'
'…ohhhhhhhhhhh.' The sound left you slowly, long and deeply pained, like you’d just been personally attacked.
'No,' you added immediately after. 'No, I don’t like this one.'
Around you, everyone was reacting at once again—groans, laughter, dramatic pacing.
'Okay, choose your sides!'
Movement split the group quickly. Daniela, Megan, Sophia, Lara, and Yoonchae all drifted toward the red side.
Manon stepped onto blue. You didn’t even hesitate—you went straight to her.
'Hell no,' you said, grabbing onto her arm and pulling it to your chest like it was the safest place on earth. 'Nahh.'
You shook your head aggressively, already backing further onto the blue side.
'You better shoot me before you catch me stalking my ex.' You mumbled into her shoulder.
Manon let out a soft laugh, tilting her head slightly to rest against yours for a second, rubbing gently like she understood more than you were saying out loud.
Across the line, Megan had started to say something—but stopped. Her expression shifted slightly as she watched you. Not confused. Just… attentive.
'Okay, okay,' Daniela said from across the line, thinking it through. 'Depends which ex… but I think I’m over here.'
'See?' Lara added. 'But it’s whatever—it’s an accident. Literally everyone has done it.'
You didn’t even look at them.
'Nope,' you muttered. 'Couldn’t be me.'
Megan’s eyes flicked down to the way you were holding onto Manon—arms wrapped tight, tucked in, smaller than usual.
She pressed her lips together slightly, thinking.
'What about stalking your ex’s new partner?' The host added.
That made people pause.
'THAT’S—' Lara started.
'Oh, that’s really bad.' Daniela finished at the exact same time.
Both of them winced.
'Yeah.' Manon murmured quietly beside you.
Megan glanced at you again. You hadn’t moved.
'But what about your, like… current partner’s ex?' Lara continued, now fully spiralling. 'Like when you stalk them.'
She looked genuinely stressed now. 'That’s bad.'
'I don’t think that’s as bad.' Megan said, shrugging slightly—but her voice was a little quieter now.
Sophia nodded. 'Yeah, same.'
Lara turned to them like they’d just betrayed her. 'What do you mean it’s not as bad?'
Megan smiled a little. 'I think it’s kind of endearing.'
'Endearing?!' Lara repeated, staring at her.
Megan’s eyes flicked to you again—just for a second—before she continued.
'Yeah!' she said, still light, but a little more deliberate now. 'If I was dating someone and they liked my ex’s post, I’d be like—' she softened her voice teasingly, '‘awww, you’re a little jealous.’'
'NO,' Lara said immediately. 'No, no, no—that is not cute!'
'It’s a little cute.' Sophia insisted.
'It is not cute!'
While they argued, you stayed exactly where you were—arms still wrapped around Manon’s, not moving an inch. You glanced briefly toward the others… then back down.
'I stand by my decision,' you said quietly. 'I think that’s pretty self-explanatory.'
Manon shifted slightly beside you, her arm still secure in your hold.
'Yeah,' she said gently. 'Fair.'
Across from you, Megan’s gaze lingered a second longer. There was a flicker of something there—something softer than jealousy, but sitting right next to it.
She hesitated. Then took a small step forward—like she might cross over. But Daniela started talking again, and the moment passed.
Across the set, the chaos kept going.
'You’re telling me you wouldn’t overthink that for days—'
'I would not!'
'You’re lying!'
'Okay but accidentally posting your drafts is worse—'
'No it’s not—what do you even have in there?!'
You exhaled softly, shaking your head just a little, a small smile creeping back in despite everything.
'Alright,' the host said, trying to regain control again. 'Didn't mean to cause an argument today. That's my bad.'
'No, you're good. This happens most days. I think its healthy.' You clarify for the poor woman who looks a little too stressed.
She laughs lightly before glancing down at her card prompts. 'Okay, moving on...'
As the attention shifted away, Megan finally moved.
Not enough to make a scene—just a small step closer to the centre line again, her eyes flicking back to you one more time. Still checking. Still a little concerned.
---
'Would you rather never wear makeup again… or never style your hair again?'
There was a brief pause—then a wave of very immediate reactions.
'Never style my hair again.' Megan said instantly, already stepping onto the red side like there was no other option.
'No hesitation?' Manon laughed.
'None.' Megan confirmed.
On the blue side, Sophia and Lara moved at the same time.
'Never wear makeup again.' Sophia said, nodding.
'Same.' Lara added.
Yoonchae joined them a second later, thoughtful but agreeing. Manon followed, glancing between both sides before committing.
That left you and Daniela. Both of you still standing directly in the middle.
'…this is hard.' Daniela muttered.
'For me,' Sophia continued, already explaining, 'I could have the best makeup—but if my hair is a mess, I’ll look not put together.'
'That’s true.' Lara nodded.
'Especially with curly hair,' Daniela added, gesturing to herself. 'You need to style it.'
You tilted your head slightly, thinking. 'I just feel like makeup hates my skin,' you said honestly. 'So in turn, I hate makeup… and my hair is somewhat okay on its own.'
You gave a small shrug. 'Can I live without both? I think, honestly, I’d thrive.'
That got a laugh out of Yoonchae. She stepped out from the blue side, coming to stand next to you in the middle. 'I agree.' She said simply.
'There we go.' You nodded, like you’d just formed a new team.
'I… relate to you with that,' Megan said, looking over at you, 'but I actually kinda feel the opposite.'
She gestured to herself. 'I can’t style my hair without doing makeup.'
'Really?' Lara asked.
'Yeah,' Megan nodded. 'It just doesn’t feel finished.'
She hesitated for a second, then added, a little quieter, 'Also… your skin is just like—' she gestured vaguely toward you, half-smiling, 'you don’t even need make-up. I’m kind of jealous, not gonna lie.'
There was a tiny pause. You looked at her properly then.
'Hey,' you said, softer now, 'I love your skin just the way it is.'
Megan blinked slightly, caught off guard. Before she could respond—
'UGH—' Daniela made a loud gagging noise.
'Oh my god, I’m going to be sick—' Sophia added dramatically.
'Can you not do this right now?' Lara laughed.
'Shut up.' You muttered, trying not to smile.
'I’m serious!' Daniela continued. 'This is not the time for that!'
'This is a workplace!' Sophia added.
'We’re filming!' Lara said.
From the red side, Megan just shook her head, smiling a little to herself now—still looking at you.
'I could put it up in a bun.' Daniela suggested, trying to get things back on track.
'That’s still styling though.' Megan replied immediately, but her tone was lighter again.
Daniela froze. '…oh. So I’d just have to wake up,' she continued slowly, 'and walk around with my hair as is?'
'Yeah.' Megan said, way too casually. 'I mean,' she added, 'I feel like you can brush it. There’s nothing against that, I don’t think.'
Daniela turned to her. 'I can’t even brush my hair—it’s curly. I got no choice.'
'That’s true.' Lara said, nodding again.
'You’d just wake up and accept your fate.' Sophia added.
'I don’t like that fate.' Daniela said flatly.
You snorted quietly beside Yoonchae. 'Middle gang is thriving.' You muttered.
'We are.' She agreed.
Across from you, Manon laughed. 'You guys just don’t want to commit.'
'We’ve evolved past the need to choose.' You replied. 'We’d survive either way.'
The host smiles. 'Some would argue that's the only correct answer.'
Everyone turns to look at Daniela expectantly. 'And where are you standing, Daniela?' The host asks.
Daniela nodded. 'Yeah, I’m still thinking.'
'Of course you are.' Megan laughed.
Her eyes flicked back to you again—just briefly—but this time there was something softer sitting there.
---
'Alright, next one!'
You all shifted back into place, a little looser now, conversations overlapping as the host read the card.
'Would you rather speak every language… or play every instrument?'
This time, the split happened pretty naturally. You stepped onto the blue side with Daniela and Yoonchae.
Across from you, Manon, Megan, Lara, and Sophia grouped on red.
Sophia didn’t even wait. 'Play every instrument,' she said confidently. 'Because music is communication.'
You blinked at her. 'Girl…' you tilted your head. 'What do you think knowing every language is then?'
A few of the girls laughed.
'It’s the way we communicate with the world.' Sophia shot back, like she’d just made a ground-breaking point.
'Because that’s easy to learn.' Yoonchae added, casually pointing at them.
There was a pause.
'... easy to learn?' Manon repeated, turning to Megan.
'Easy?' Megan echoed, both of them looking at Yoonchae like she’d just said the most insane thing of the day.
Yoonchae just shrugged. 'It takes time, but—'
'Time?!' Daniela cut in, stepping forward slightly. 'You can speak to anybody you want in the entire world. You’ll know every single language, anywhere you go.'
'Exactly.' You nodded.
'But here,' Lara jumped in, gesturing to their side, 'we can create anything.'
Sophia nodded along with her. 'That’s what I’m saying.'
You looked between them… then back at your side… then back at them again.
'…okay but imagine this.' You started, stepping forward slightly.
They quieted down just enough to listen.
'How sexy would it be for me to just suddenly be able to speak Tagalog,' you pointed at Sophia, 'and have a full-on conversation with Soph.'
Sophia’s expression immediately softened.
Before you could continue, Megan leaned forward slightly from the other side, eyes on you. 'Okay, but talk to me in Chinese then.'
You blinked, caught off guard for a second. 'Right now?' You asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Yeah.' She nodded, like it was obvious. 'Go on.'
'She said if she could—' Lara started.
'I’m testing the concept.' Megan cut in, not taking her eyes off you.
'You’re so annoying.' You muttered, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.
'Just a little bit.' She shrugged.
You shook your head, then continued anyway—
'Or Hindi?' You added, pointing at Lara.
She raised an eyebrow, still watching the two of you.
'Or German, Korean, and so on—' You continued, pointing around at the others one by one.
Megan tilted her head slightly, still looking at you. 'Still waiting, by the way.'
'You’re not getting it for free.' You shot back.
That earned a laugh from Manon.
There was a small pause as it all sank in. You shrugged slightly, voice a little quieter now. 'Guess I only picked this side so I could talk to them in their native languages. Be some sort of comfort.'
It was silent for a few seconds.
'Awwwwww, Y/NNN!' Sophia cooed instantly, hand over her heart.
Manon smiled, 'That’s actually really cute.'
Daniela nodded, 'Yeah, that’s a good reason.'
Yoonchae gave you a small approving nod too.
Megan’s expression softened a little too—but she still added, 'Still waiting for my Chinese, by the way.'
You glanced at her. 'Later.'
She smiled slightly at that. 'I’ll remember that.'
'Yeah, whatever.' Lara said loudly, breaking the moment as she laughed.
You turned to her, narrowing your eyes with your hand over your chest in mock hurt. 'Wow.'
'I’m joking!' She grinned. 'That was cute. Don’t get used to it.'
'Too late,' Megan added. 'That was very wholesome.'
'Yeah,' Sophia nodded. 'You can’t take it back now.'
You rolled your eyes slightly, but there was a small smile there anyway.
'Alright, alright,' the host cut in, clearly amused. 'Are we ready to move on?'
You glanced across at them one more time, shaking your head. 'Y’all are missing out.' You muttered.
'Or you are.' Lara shot back.
'Debatable. But… we’d all make it work anyway.'
The others nod, some reluctantly, some amused.
The host smiles. 'That’s a very Katseye answer.'
---
'Alright, next!' The host called, already smiling like they knew this would be easy.
'Would you rather forget lyrics on stage… or forget choreo?'
'—ohhh lyrics.'
It wasn’t even co-ordinated, but somehow everyone said it at the same time—already moving toward the blue side in one messy wave.
'No hesitation.' Manon laughed as you all crowded together.
'None,' Megan added. 'Absolutely none.'
The chatter started instantly, everyone talking over each other.
'Yeah, it’s dangerous if one forgets choreo.' Lara said, gesturing as she spoke.
'Yeah,' you nodded quickly, squeezing in beside her, 'there’s always too much happening—one of us would go flying.'
'And then we all go down,' Sophia said. 'It’s a chain reaction.'
'Domino effect.' Yoonchae nodded.
'Whereas with lyrics—' Megan started.
'—you can just hold the mic outwards.' You finished, miming it, arm stretched toward an imaginary crowd.
A few of them laughed.
'Yeah!' Lara pointed at you. 'Just let the fans sing.'
'Exactly,' you said. 'team effort.'
The host looked between all of you, clearly amused. 'So choreo’s a health and safety nightmare… whereas lyrics is kind of—'
'Recoverable.' Sophia said.
'Manageable.' Manon added.
'Survivable.' Daniela nodded.
As everyone kept talking, the energy softened just slightly.
Sophia had shifted closer behind Lara, resting her head lightly against her shoulder. Without really thinking about it, you joined in and leaned on Sophia from behind as well, your head settling comfortably against hers.
She didn’t even react verbally—just lifted her hand, gently holding your head in place and absentmindedly massaging it.
You let out a quiet exhale, still half-listening to the others. 'Yeah,' you murmured, almost to yourself. 'I can survive forgetting lyrics.'
'Same.' Megan said, glancing over.
Her voice was casual—but her eyes lingered.
She watched you for a second longer than necessary, taking in the way you’d gone all soft and quiet, tucked into Sophia like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A small smile pulled at her lips—unconscious, fond. She shook her head slightly to herself, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it.
'Alright,' the host laughed, clapping once. 'I think this might be our first unanimous answer.'
You nodded slightly, a small smile on your face. 'Finally something we can all agree on.'
Megan glanced at you again, that same soft expression still there.
'Yeah.' She murmured, mostly to herself.
---
'Would you rather it’s always day… or always night?'
'—always night!'
The answer echoed out almost instantly. Manon, Sophia, Daniela, Yoonchae, and Megan all moved to the red side in one confident wave.
You didn’t move. Neither did Lara. The two of you stayed planted in the middle, both looking like you were actually taking this one seriously.
'I…' Lara started, tilting her head slightly. 'Okay, here’s my thing. I love the night time—deeply—but I love the sun. And I need the sun. It gives me joy and energy.'
You nodded slowly. 'Yeah…'
There was a pause. Then Daniela frowned slightly from the other side. '…you’re so right.'
She walked over.
Manon followed right after. 'Wait, yeah.'
Just like that, the balance shifted.
You exhaled, still thinking. 'Like… okay,' you started, glancing between both sides. 'I love my sleep, right? So if it was always night, I’d probably just end up hibernating—like, you’d never see me again.'
A few of them laughed.
'I’d fully ruin my sleep schedule and disappear,' you added. 'But the sun actually gives me energy, so… I think I have to be on this side.'
You stepped over to blue with Lara, Daniela, and Manon.
'I like the night air better.' Yoonchae said from across the line.
'Me too,' Sophia nodded. 'I like seeing the stars and the moon.'
You pointed at her immediately. 'That’s a good point—I love stargazing.'
'Exactly.' She said, satisfied.
'You can’t even see the stars in LA.' Manon added from your side.
'Right?' Daniela nodded. 'But the beach, like the sun—you can’t tan!'
'Girl, I’m not tryna tan.' Megan shot back instantly.
You glanced between them as the volume started rising again.
'I much prefer—yeah I’m tryna tannnn,' Lara said, dragging the word out dramatically. 'You know what I mean—I wanna be melanated and joyful.'
You physically turned your head back and forth, watching them like a tennis match.
'Sun is better for your mental health—'
'Night is peaceful!'
'Sunrise is peaceful!'
'So is midnight!'
'Midnight is when problems happen!'
'Sunburn is a problem!'
'Oh my god—' You slowly took a step back from the group, lowering your voice. '…what is going on.' You muttered to yourself.
Right on cue, the host’s voice cut through the chaos. Everyone paused mid-argument.
'Okay! Have we got our answers?'
'Yup, night time all the way.' Megan says.
'We're partying up in the sun over this way!' Daniela bounces back.
'Make sure you put sun screen on then!' Sophia reminds everyone.
You just shake your head, a quiet giggle slipping out as the noise builds again around you.
The host laughs, glancing between both sides. 'Yeah… I’m not even gonna try to settle that. I’ll just mark that as… completely divided.'
You let out a small sigh, shaking your head. 'You’re all making her job harder, you know.' You mumble, gesturing toward the host with a teasing look.
'WE’RE JUST PASSIONATE!' Daniela blurts—far louder than necessary.
You jolt instantly, shoulders jumping as you duck behind Lara without even thinking, gripping onto her arm.
Lara snorts, barely holding it together. 'Daniela, indoor voice—please.'
'Sorry!' Daniela says, immediately softer this time, hands coming up in surrender.
You peek out from behind Lara, still clinging slightly. '…See?' You mutter, half laughing. 'Danger.'
'Okay! Final question! Would you rather have the power of teleportation… or telepathy?'
'—ooohhhhh, teleportation, one million percent—excuse me—girl move.' You were quick to choose your answer, gently shoving the girls so you could get to where you wanted to be.
'Wait, wait—what’s telepathy again?' Yoonchae asked, looking between everyone.
'Reading minds.' Sophia explained.
'No, wait—is that telekinesis?' Megan cut in.
'No—telekinesis is moving things.' Lara said.
'Then what’s—'
'It doesn’t matter!' You cut through, still trying to squeeze past them. 'Teleportation!'
'Hold on, hold on,' the host laughed. 'Let’s change it—teleportation… or telekinesis.'
'OH,' Daniela said. 'Okay, that’s different.'
This time, people moved with more intention. You stepped straight onto the blue side with Lara, Manon, Sophia, and Daniela.
Across from you, Megan and Yoonchae stood on red.
'Telekinesis?' Yoonchae said, nodding. 'I love telekinesis.'
'Yeah, its cool.' Megan agreed.
'No but teleportation,' Sophia jumped in, already trying to convince them. 'You could go to Korea and then just jump back to LA. No flights.'
Yoonchae paused. '…oh. That’s true.'
You stepped forward slightly, fully invested now. 'Yeah, imagine tour,' you said. 'We wouldn’t have to leave countries early—we’d actually have time to explore. And then we could just suddenly—poof—be somewhere else.'
Manon immediately pointed at you. 'Retweet.'
'Right?!' You said.
'But what else are you supposed to do with teleportation?' Megan started, still unsure. 'Like, if I needed to grab something—'
'Yeah!' Sophia backed her up, before pausing.
'Think about it,' Lara cut in, stepping forward like she was about to deliver a speech. 'Teleportation is so practical—what Y/N said, but also…'
She started counting on her fingers. 'Say you’re about to get kidnapped. There’s a tsunami. Someone’s breaking into your house—'
'Why is it always so extreme?' Daniela laughed.
'—you just teleport elsewhere!' Lara finished, ignoring her.
There was a beat.
Megan blinked. '…you’re so right, oh my god.'
And just like that, she walked over.
'NO WAY.' You laughed.
'That was fast.' Sophia added.
'And like,' you continued, gesturing toward Manon, 'some of our families don't even live in LA—imagine just going home. Like back to Switzerland whenever you want.'
Manon nodded immediately. 'Yeah. I’d be gone every other hour.'
'Exactly,' you said. 'Ugh, someone invent it now please—I wanna teleport so bad.'
'For real,' Sophia added. 'We wouldn’t even have to deal with LA traffic.'
'That alone—' Daniela shook her head. 'Sold.'
'Okay, okay,' the host laughed, stepping in as the group settled. 'Final agreement?'
'Teleportation!' Most of you called.
Even Yoonchae hesitated… then slowly stepped over. 'Okay… teleportation.'
'YESS.' Sophia cheered.
'There we go,' the host smiled. 'Final agreement. Thank you, guys—big round of applause, that was so much fun.'
'Thank you! That was fun.' You all said together, clapping as the energy softened.
The cameras kept rolling for a few seconds longer—little laughs, people stepping off their marks, chatting quietly.
'Wait, I’m still thinking about the kidnapping scenario.' Megan said.
'Why was that your deciding factor?' Manon laughed.
'Because it was convincing!'
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you stepped away from the set. Megan fell into step behind you almost immediately—like she always did.
Your hands found each other without looking, fingers brushing before loosely linking.
You walked slightly ahead of her, guiding the direction without thinking. Behind you, Megan’s grip shifted—her hand slipping from yours just enough for one of her fingers to hook into the belt loop of your jeans instead.
It was light. Absentminded. Like she just needed to stay connected.
You didn’t even question it. Just kept walking, a small smile tugging at your lips as the noise of the set faded behind you.
---
The studio doors finally swung open, a cool rush of London air hitting you all at once as you stepped out onto the pavement.
'Alright, straight into the van, guys.' Missy called, guiding you toward the next stop.
It was darker now—streetlights glowing, the city buzzing in that quiet, late-evening way that somehow felt calmer than the day.
You exhaled, shoulders dropping slightly as you walked alongside the group.
Almost immediately, Megan drifted closer to your side again—like it was instinct.
'I’m just saying, fairies have range.' Daniela continued, still fully invested.
'Oh my god, not this again.' Sophia groaned.
'No, because you guys completely dismissed the flying aspect—'
'We did not dismiss it!' Manon argued.
'Yes you did!'
'Mermaids are still better!' Lara called back over her shoulder.
You let out a quiet breath, your energy finally catching up to you. Without thinking, you leaned slightly into Megan’s side as you walked.
'I’m so over this debate.' You mumbled.
Megan glanced down at you immediately, her expression softening. 'Yeah?' She asked, quieter than the chaos around you.
'Yeah.'
She didn’t hesitate—just shifted a little closer, her shoulder pressing more firmly against yours.
'You did good today.' She added under her breath.
You huffed a small laugh. 'We argued about mermaids for ten minutes.'
'Exactly.' She said. 'Important work.'
That got a real smile out of you.
Behind you, the argument carried on like nothing had changed.
'But fairies are more versatile—'
'How?!'
'They literally fly!'
'So do planes!'
'That’s not the same thing—'
You shook your head slightly, smiling to yourself as the van door slid open. One by one, everyone started piling in, still talking, still laughing, still arguing.
Megan let the others go ahead first.
Her hand found yours again—fingers slipping between yours like it was second nature. You stepped up into the van, still holding onto her, but she didn’t let go—instead, her grip shifted slightly as she followed behind you.
Just before you moved further in, you felt it—one of her fingers hooking loosely into your belt loop again, tugging you back just a fraction.
You glanced over your shoulder. She was already looking at you. A small smile. Soft. Tired. You shook your head a little, but your lips curved up anyway.
'Come on.' You murmured.
'I am.' She said.
You guided her further into the van, hands still connected, her finger still hooked there like she needed the contact. You ended up settling into your seat side by side, your knee knocking lightly against hers as the others filled in around you.
The noise carried on—Daniela still arguing, Lara laughing, Sophia trying, and failing, to mediate.
But it felt quieter somehow. Warmer.
Megan leaned back into her seat, her shoulder pressing lightly into yours again. You didn’t move away.
Another interview. Another round of chaos.
But for now, you were warm, comfortable, and exactly where you wanted to be.
Request: Yes / No
'So I wanted to make a request and I don't know if you've seen Heated Rivarly or anything but I need a compilation of the reader having completely unhinged moments and just saying whats on her mind in the same that Hudson Williams does and the girls react to fan compilation of the two having very similar humour (plot twist: They're actually in a long term relationship together?!🤭)'
Summary: As Katseye’s most unpredictable member, you're known for saying exactly what you're thinking—whether it’s appropriate or not. your members have learned to expect chaos, damage control, and the occasional public crisis.
Pairings: Katseye x 7th member
Warning(s): explicit language / profanity / sexual references / suggestive humour / unfiltered / impulsive behaviour / oversharing / no social filter / chaotic humour / secret relationship(?)
A/N: soooo... i still havent seen heated rivalry🫣 im sorry, dont come for me. but i did watch a compilation of Hudson being unhinged for 10 minutes and yes, he is hilarious! i seriously hope you enjoy, some of the things in this story are for real just my inner thoughts
Not silent — never silent — but controlled. Soft lighting, neutral backdrop, two long sofas arranged in a slight curve. Cameras are still being adjusted, crew moving around with practiced efficiency.
You’re already sitting, one leg tucked under you, fidgeting with a loose thread on your jeans like it’s the most interesting thing in the room.
The interviewer sits in front of you all, smiling warmly, running through things.
'So it’s pretty relaxed,' she explains. 'We’ll start with introductions, then just a few questions about your journey, your dynamic, things like that. Nothing too intense.'
You nod like you’re listening.
You are not listening. You’re staring at the boom mic above, watching it sway slightly.
'Does that ever fall?' You ask suddenly.
Everyone pauses.
The interviewer blinks. 'Sorry?'
You point up. 'That thing. If it falls, does it knock someone out or is it light?'
Megan turns her head slowly. 'Why is that your first thought?'
'I just like knowing the risks.' You say, completely serious.
Lara sighs. 'We haven’t even started.'
A few mics are handed out. You take one, immediately tapping it twice.
thump thump
Sophia winces slightly. 'Please don’t do that into the mic.'
'Sorry.' You say, not sorry, tapping it once more for good measure.
The interviewer laughs politely. 'Alright, we’re rolling in about ten seconds!'
Everyone shifts. Posture straightens. Smiles settle in. That polished, media-trained version of yourselves starts to slide into place like muscle memory.
You sit up too. For about three seconds. Then you lean slightly toward Manon. 'If I say something weird, just know I’m not doing it on purpose.'
She looks at you immediately. 'That doesn’t reassure me.'
'It’s already forming.' You whisper.
'Oh my god—'
'And we’re rolling!'
The shift is instant.
The interviewer beams. 'Hi guys! It’s so lovely to have you here today—'
Introductions go smoothly. Names, smiles, small waves. You nail yours. Of course you do.
Everything is going well. Suspiciously well.
'So,' the interviewer continues, 'what’s something fans would be surprised to learn about you?'
Its a safe and easy question. Lara goes first. Thoughtful answer. Elegant. Yoonchae follows. Cute and composed. Megan says something funny but controlled.
Then, the interviewer looks towards you.
You don’t hesitate. 'My brain ruins my life a little bit.'
Silence. Six heads turn.
The interviewer pauses, caught off guard but smiling. '…Do you want to expand on that?'
You nod immediately.
'Yeah. Okay so—' you sit forward slightly, hands already moving, '—you know when you do something mildly embarrassing and your brain decides to archive it forever?'
Megan mutters, 'Oh no…'
You continue anyway.
'Like, one time I waved back at someone who wasn’t waving at me,' you say. 'And it wasn’t even a small wave. It was like—' you demonstrate, fully committing '—a confident wave. Eye contact and everything.'
Daniela covers her mouth.
'I realised halfway through and I couldn’t stop so I just… finished it. And they just stared at me. And I think about it minimum three times a week.'
The interviewer laughs. The others? Less composed.
'Three times a week?' Lara repeats.
'Minimum,' you confirm. 'Sometimes more if I’m trying to sleep.'
Manon leans back, staring at you. 'You just carry that around?'
'Yeah. It’s in the rotation.'
You should stop. But you don’t.
'Also,' you add, because your brain is now fully unlocked, 'I once made eye contact with someone for too long and now I don’t know what the correct duration is anymore. Like what’s normal? Two seconds? Three? Because after that it becomes… intense.'
Sophia pinches the bridge of her nose. 'Why are you saying this here?' She mutters.
'I don’t know,' you say honestly. 'It just came out.'
The interviewer is laughing harder now. 'I think a lot of people will relate to that.'
'Good,' you nod. 'Because I thought I was just… malfunctioning.'
There’s a small pause. You could end it there. But you don't.
'Oh,' you say suddenly, 'also sometimes I rehearse conversations in my head and then accidentally mouth the words out loud—then when it actually happens, I say none of it.'
Megan blinks. 'You what?'
'Like fully. Facial expressions and everything. It’s bad.'
'Oh my god.' Daniela laughs.
'Yeah,' you nod. 'Caught myself doing it in public once. Made eye contact with someone mid-sentence—had to pretend I was singing.'
'You’re spiralling in real time.' Yoonchae says.
'I know,' you nod. 'It’s happening right now actually.'
The interviewer is nearly crying laughing. Then, there's a shift.
You blink once, like your brain has changed tabs. 'Also,' you say, completely different tone, 'I eat the same meal like five days in a row and then suddenly hate it and never touch it again.'
The room halts.
Lara squints. '…That’s what you’re adding?'
'Yeah,' you say. 'Fans might not know that.'
'They definitely don’t need to know that.' Lara says.
'I think it’s important,' you insist. 'Because it’s a pattern. Like I’ll love something obsessively, and then one day my brain goes 'absolutely not' and then it’s dead to me. Honestly, I might be un-diagnosed autistic.'
Manon nods slowly. 'That might actually explain a lot.'
'Thank you.' You say.
You lean back slightly, satisfied. Then lean forward again.
'Oh—and I can’t stand when people breathe too loud.'
'WHAT—' Daniela barks.
'No listen,' you say, holding a hand up. 'Some people breathe like they’re in a survival situation and I can’t ignore it.'
Sophia looks at the interviewer. 'I’m so sorry.'
The interviewer is wiping tears from her eyes. 'No, this is incredible—please keep going—'
'No, don’t encourage her.' Megan says quickly.
Too late.
'Also,' you add helpfully, 'if someone chews loudly I start thinking about it for the rest of the day. Like it follows me.'
'You’re over exposing yourself.' Lara says.
'I’m being honest.' You reply.
'Too honest.'
A moment passes and you finally go quiet. Everyone stares at you. You blink back at them.
'…What?' You ask.
Manon exhales slowly. 'You just told the entire world your brain is your biggest enemy.'
You consider that.
'Yeah,' you nod. 'But in a fun way.'
Megan leans back, shaking her head. 'You’re unbelievable.'
The interviewer regains composure, still smiling wide. 'Well… I think that might be the most honest answer we’ve ever gotten to that question.'
'Thank you.' You say politely.
Sophia looks at you. 'You’re done talking for a bit.' She says calmly.
You nod. 'Okay... unless I think of something else.'
'NO—'
Sophia doesn’t even hesitate. She gently but very deliberately takes the mic out of your hand like she’s removing a weapon.
You let her.
'You’ve said enough for now.' She murmurs, not even looking at you, smile still perfectly in place for the camera.
You nod. 'That’s fair.'
The interviewer, somehow still composed, clears her throat with a bright smile.
'Okay—moving on,' she says, clearly choosing peace. 'Let’s talk about what’s next for you all. You’ve had such an incredible year already… how are you feeling about upcoming festivals? Things like Lollapalooza, Coachella?'
Sophia holds the mic, occasionally passing it between the others like a controlled system.
Notably, not to you. You notice.
You lean slightly toward her. 'I have thoughts.'
'I’m sure you do,' she replies under her breath. 'You’ll get a turn.'
Daniela picks up the thread next, glowing as she talks about performing, the energy, the crowds, how surreal it all feels.
You’re listening. Mostly. Until, you blink. Your head tilts slightly. Your brain forgot the question. You then try to replay what the interviewer asked. But… you can't think.
You frown. That cannot be what she asked. There’s no way.
You lean sideways toward Manon, lowering your voice just enough.
'Wait,' you whisper, 'what was the question again? Did she ask if we’ve ever cried on stage because of, like… emotional instability or did I just squeeze that out my ass?'
Manon freezes. For half a second, she just stares at you. Then she loses it. Not loud — not immediately — but her shoulders start shaking violently, lips pressed together as she tries to contain it.
You blink at her. 'What? I made that up, didn't I?'
She turns her head away, hand flying up to cover her mouth, trying so hard not to laugh into the mic-less air.
You’re getting concerned now. 'What did she ask?' You whisper again, more urgently.
Manon leans back toward you, still trembling with suppressed laughter, and presses closer so only you can hear.
She repeats the actual question quietly in your ear. Something completely normal. About festival performances. Crowd energy. Nothing remotely close to what you thought.
You pause to process. 'Ohh.'
Across the set, Daniela is still talking. Smooth. Confident. Completely unaware.
Everyone else, however? Not unaware. Because Manon is still shaking beside you. Sophia’s eyes flick over and narrow slightly. Megan is already suspicious. Yoonchae looks between the two of you. And now the interviewer notices.
Daniela trails off slightly, glancing over. '…Did something happen?'
Its silent again as all eyes land on you. You sit still, then straighten slightly.
'I just... I misheard the question.' You say, like that explains everything.
It does not.
Daniela squints. 'What did you think it was?'
You wave your hand immediately. 'It doesn’t matter. Continue.'
'It doesn’t,' you insist. 'It was just wrong. Like objectively incorrect. Just... carry on.'
The interviewer is smiling again. Dangerous. Curious. 'I’d love to know.' She says.
You shake your head. 'You really wouldn’t.'
You should have left it there. You want to leave it there but Manon is not done. She inhales sharply, composing herself just enough to function, then without warning—reaches over and takes the mic from Yoonchae.
'She thought,' Manon starts, voice already breaking with laughter, '—that you asked if we’ve ever cried on stage because we suddenly realised we’re all just tiny people on a floating rock and nothing actually matters.'
Silence. Complete and total silence.
Your eyes widen. 'That is NOT how I phrased it—'
But she keeps going.
'And then,' Manon adds, fully committed now, 'she asked me if that’s why some artists stare into the crowd like they’ve just had an existential crisis mid-song.'
Daniela screams. Megan falls sideways into the couch. Lara drops her head into her hands. Yoonchae is frozen, blinking like her brain has stopped processing. Sophia closes her eyes briefly, trying her hardest to stay professional.
The interviewer? Gone. Absolutely gone. Laughing so hard she has to lower the cue cards.
You sit there, betrayed. 'I didn’t even say that.' You defend weakly.
Manon turns to you, still laughing. 'That is exactly what you said.'
'It was… toned down.' You argue.
'You said 'floating rock.' She shoots back.
'Because we are... technically. But still, I said none of that!' You say, like that’s the point.
The interviewer finally manages to speak. 'That—' she laughs, breathless, '—is definitely not what I asked, but honestly… I kind of wish it was now.'
'Right?' You say immediately. 'It’s a good question. Like... for real, has anyone ever just—' you gesture vaguely '—paused mid-performance and gone 'wow, existence is crazy'?'
'NO—' Megan yells again.
'Maybe internally.' Lara mutters.
Sophia slowly but gently takes the mic back. Control. Regain control.
'We’re very excited for festivals.' She says smoothly, like none of that just happened
You lean back into the sofa, muttering to yourself. 'It was a valid misinterpretation.'
Manon is still laughing beside you, shoulder bumping yours this time from the force of it. You glance at her.
'You didn’t have to expose me like that.'
'I absolutely did.' She grins.
The interview continues. But it’s over. Not officially. But spiritually? It’s over.
Because now every time the interviewer asks a question— there’s a pause. A tiny, lingering pause. Like everyone is waiting to see what you heard instead.
---
The dorm is warm. Not just physically temperature wise, but vibe wise.
Lights dimmed, fairy lights strung lazily along the wall, half the group sprawled across the couch while the rest have claimed the floor with blankets and pillows like it’s some kind of chaotic sleepover.
The livestream has been going for a while now. Nothing structured. Just… vibes.
Lara is tucked into the corner of the couch, legs folded neatly, scrolling through comments. Megan is half-laying across the cushions, head near Daniela’s lap. Yoonchae is sitting on the floor, back resting against the couch, knees pulled up slightly.
You’re on the floor too, cross-legged, leaning back against the couch between Sophia’s legs like it’s the most natural position in the world.
Manon is beside you, one arm draped lazily over your shoulder, occasionally poking at your cheek for no reason. You keep swatting her away. She keeps doing it anyway.
Sophia is reading comments aloud. 'What’s your favourite late night snack?'
Answers come easily. Snacks. Drinks. Small debates.
Its normal. Safe even. Then, Sophia pauses. Her eyes flick slightly before she even reads it.
'Oh no.' Megan mutters immediately.
'What?' Daniela leans forward.
Sophia exhales softly. 'What’s your ideal type?'
The room reacts instantly. Groans. Laughter. Someone throws a pillow.
'We knew it was coming.' Lara sighs.
'Okay, okay,' Daniela grins, already sitting up straighter. 'I’ll go first.'
Of course she will. She starts listing things — confident, animated.
'Someone funny, someone who can keep up with me, good energy, confident—'
You’re listening at first. Then your head tilts slightly.
Megan goes next. Then Lara. Then Yoonchae — softer, a little shy, but honest.
You nod along to some of it. Then, you lean toward Sophia slightly, whispering just loud enough to be heard.
'Some of these are red flags.'
Sophia closes her eyes. 'Don’t—'
Too late.
'No because wait,' you say, sitting up straighter, fully entering the conversation, 'some of you are just describing people who would ruin your life.'
The room erupts.
'WHAT?' Daniela shoves you immediately.
'You said 'someone who keeps you on your toes,' you point at her. 'That’s stressful. I don’t want to be on my toes. I want to be relaxed.'
Manon is already laughing beside you.
'You want to date someone boring?' Megan asks.
'No,' you say seriously. 'I want to date someone stable. There’s a difference.'
The chat is flying:
chatter01: NOT HER CALLING THEM OUT
chatter02: STABLE 😭
chatter03: SHES SO REAL
Sophia tries to regain control. 'Okay, what about you? What’s your ideal type?'
There’s a pause. A very brief one. You could answer normally. You do not.
'Silence when I need it,' you say immediately. 'Like if I say 'don’t talk to me for ten minutes,' they respect that.'
Yoonchae nods slowly. 'That’s fair.'
'Also someone who doesn’t breathe like they’re fighting for survival.' You add.
Megan groans. 'And we’re back to this again—'
'No because it matters,' you insist. 'If I can hear your lungs working from across the room, it’s over.'
Manon is gone. Head dropped, laughing into your shoulder. You keep going. Of course you do.
'And— okay—' You pause, thinking.
That's dangerous.
Megan sits up slightly. 'Maybe you should stop—'
'No this is important.' You say.
'It’s never important when you say that—'
'—if they can’t kiss properly, I’m leaving immediately.'
Dead silence. Immediate, violent silence.
Then Daniela screams. Megan launches a pillow at you. Lara folds forward, laughing so hard she can’t breathe. Manon fully collapses against you, clutching your arm.
Yoonchae— Yoonchae physically covers her ears.
'NO. I don't want to hear this—'
The chat explodes.
chatter04: HELLO?????
chatter05: SHE SAID IT AGAIN
chatter06: NOT ON LIVE
chatter07: IM CRINE
chatter08: Y/N PLEASE
'What?' You blink, looking around genuinely confused. 'It’s true.'
'YOU CAN’T SAY THAT HERE!' Daniela yells, shoving you again.
You shove her back lightly. 'Why not? It’s a valid standard.'
'NO IT’S NOT—'
'It absolutely is,' you say. 'I’m not running a training program. I’m not hosting lessons. Figure it out before you get here.'
Manon is wheezing. Actually wheezing.
Sophia is trying so hard to move on. 'Okay—anyway—moving on—'
You’re not done. 'Also—'
'NO—' Megan lunges forward attempting to silence you.
'—if they’re bad at it, I’m not sticking around hoping for improvement. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take.'
Lara is crying actual tears. 'You’re insane.' She gasps.
Daniela shoves you again. Harder this time. 'STOP TALKING.'
You turn to her slowly. Very calmly. 'Keep shoving me, see what happens.'
The room freezes. Instantly.
Daniela stops mid-motion. Hand still hovering where she pushed you. Her brain short-circuits.
'…What does that even mean?' She asks slowly.
You tilt your head. A faint smile. 'Exactly what I said.'
That somehow makes it worse.
Megan squints. 'Wait—what tone was that supposed to be?'
Lara leans forward. 'Was that a threat or are you flirting?'
Manon just exhales like she’s already tired of all of you.
She retracts her hand like she’s been burned. 'Nope. I’m out. I’m done.'
Yoonchae still has her ears covered. 'I don’t want context. I don’t want context.'
The chat is completely unhinged now.
chatter09: ??????
chatter10: WHAT IS HAPPENING
chatter11: DANIELA GOT SILENCED
chatter12: I CANT BREATH
chatter13: THIS LIVE IS INSANE
Sophia is rubbing her forehead, taking a deep breath. 'Okay,' she says firmly. 'We’re changing the topic.'
You nod immediately. 'Okay.'
You lean slightly toward the camera. 'But I stand by what I said.'
'END THE LIVE—JUST END IT!' Megan shouts from the floor, half folded in on herself, wheezing.
Sophia doesn’t even argue this time. The screen cuts. It's silent for exactly half a second. Then the room explodes.
'I cannot believe you just said that—' Daniela is half yelling, half laughing, shoving at your shoulder again like she needs to physically process it.
'I can,' Lara says immediately from the couch, wiping tears from under her eyes. 'Actually, no—I expected worse.'
Manon is still on the floor, one hand over her face, the other gripping her stomach. 'You didn’t even hesitate,' she breathes. 'Not a single bit.'
'I don’t hesitate about the truth.' You say simply, adjusting your position like you didn’t just detonate a livestream in front of thousands of people.
Yoonchae is still covering her ears. 'I heard enough,' she mutters. 'I heard enough to last a lifetime. Is this what its like to be traumatised?'
Sophia, meanwhile, is pacing. Not dramatically. Not angrily. Just… processing. Which is somehow worse.
She runs a hand over her face, exhales slowly. 'Okay… okay… we’re fine.'
No one believes her.
'We are fine,' she repeats, more to herself than anyone else. 'We just need to… maybe… never do that again.'
You tilt your head. 'Do what? Be honest?'
She stops pacing and looks at you. There’s a long pause.
'…Yes,' she says flatly. 'At least... like that.'
You soften a little at that, waving your hand in the air. 'I’ll take the brunt of it,' you say. 'It’s on me anyway.'
Sophia’s expression shifts—just slightly. Not annoyed anymore. Just… tired, fond, and a little overwhelmed.
'I know you will,' she says quietly. 'That’s not the point.'
'Wait—' Megan suddenly pushes herself upright from the floor, staring at you like she’s just remembered something. 'No, because I’m still stuck on it. You just—said that. Out loud. To thousands of fans.'
You shrug. 'They asked.'
'They did not ask that!' She fires back.
'Okay... well technically Sophia asked! She asked my ideal type. I expanded.'
Sophia immediately sits up straighter. ‘I did not ask—’
She stops mid-sentence. Her mouth closes.
'…Oh,' she says quietly. 'I did ask that.' She admits, even quieter now.
'You expanded into a different universe!' Daniela yells. 'That’s not Sophia's fault—you just took it way further than anyone expected!'
Manon, who has finally recovered enough to sit up, tilts her head at you, eyes curious now instead of just amused. '…Have you actually,' she starts, voice softer now, 'been with someone who—like—didn’t know what they were doing?'
There’s no hesitation. 'Yeah.'
Everyone freezes. Sophia closes her eyes.
You sit up a little straighter, already committed. 'There was this one time—' You start.
'NO—' Sophia tries.
Too late.
'He was so confident as well,' you continue, gesturing like you’re telling a horror story. 'Like, overconfident. And I remember thinking, ‘Oh, okay, this might be—’ and then it just—'
'Oh my god—' Sophia sighs holding her head in her hand.
You make a vague, chaotic limp hand motion in the air. '…nothing lined up.'
'I’m talking straight up confusion,' you go on. 'but he wasn't up, if you're picking up what I'm putting down.' You smirk and raise an eyebrow. 'It was like watching someone try to assemble Ikea furniture without instructions. Just… guessing. Boldly and so incorrectly. He couldn't even find the good spot.'
Megan falls back onto the floor again with a thud. 'I can’t do this.' She groans.
Daniela shoves you again—harder this time out of sheer disbelief.
'You are insane.' She says, staring at you like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or evacuate the building.
You slowly turn your head toward her. 'Oh?' You say.
There’s a beat. Then you grin. Everything stops. Dead. Silent.
Daniela freezes. Actually freezes. 'What... why are you looking at me like that?' She asks cautiously.
'You're asking for it now, Dani.'
'I don’t like the sound of that.'
'You will.'
'I will NOT—'
Before she can finish, you’re already moving. You stand and swing a leg over her lap, straddling her for exactly half a second—
Daniela screeches. 'GET OFF—GET OFF—'
She shoves you with both hands in pure panic, sending you stumbling backwards off the couch—and straight into Sophia.
Sophia catches you instinctively, arms wrapping around you to steady you.
'Daniela!' She snaps immediately.
'I DIDN’T MEAN—SHE—SHE JUMPED—'
'I barely committed!' You argue.
'You committed enough!'
Sophia looks between the two of you, then exhales sharply, guiding you upright again.
'No more jumping on people.' She says firmly.
You nod. 'Okay.'
After a beat passes.
'…Unless—'
'No.'
Manon is gone again, fully laughing into her hands. Lara is wheezing. Megan is still on the floor, whispering, 'We’re never going live again…'
Yoonchae is now lying face down on the couch.
Sophia pinches the bridge of her nose. '…I need water.'
You glance around at the chaos you’ve created.
Then, completely sincere, you say '…That went well though.'
And somehow, that makes it worse.
---
The plan was movies. That was the plan. Lights dimmed, blankets dragged out, ramen cups lined up on the table like a neat little system.
That lasted… maybe ten minutes.
Now? The TV is still on, volume low, some random film playing completely ignored.
The ramen is cold. And there are three open pizza boxes on the floor instead.
You’re sitting cross-legged on the rug, back leaning against the couch, a slice of pizza dangling lazily from your hand as you talk mid-thought.
'I just think,' you’re saying, very seriously, 'if I ever fall on stage, I am not getting up.'
Across from you, Megan squints. 'What do you mean you’re not getting up?'
'I mean I’m not getting up,' you repeat. 'I’d just sit there.'
'That’s worse.' Daniela says immediately.
'No, because think about it,' you continue, warming to your argument. 'If I try to get up, there’s pressure. There’s expectation. If I stay down? It becomes a moment.'
'A moment of embarrassment.' Sophia mutters from the couch.
'A moment of art.' You correct.
Lara snorts. 'You’d just sit there?' She asks.
You nod. 'Yeah. Just… stare into the distance. Let the audience process it.'
There’s a beat. Then you glance at her. '…like when you played a tree in that play you did.'
The silence was immediate and deadly.
Megan gasps. Daniela drops her pizza back into the box. Manon chokes on air.
Lara slowly turns her head toward you. 'You… don’t. I—I can't believe you just—no...'
You grin. 'You didn’t even move,' you continue. 'You were just there. Existing. Photosynthesising.'
'I had a role.' She says defensively.
'You were a tree.'
'It was symbolic!'
'You blinked twice then shrivelled up when someone sneezed on you, Lara.'
Manon is gone—fully folded over, laughing into her knees. 'I forgot about that—oh my god—'
'It was a high school play!' Lara protests, pointing at all of you. 'Why do you remember that?!'
'Because you were committed,' you say. 'Honestly? Method acting.'
Lara grabs a cushion and throws it at you. You don’t dodge. It hits you square in the face. You accept it.
'See?' You say, muffled behind the cushion. 'Same energy I’d bring to falling on stage.'
Daniela is laughing so hard she’s practically sliding off the couch. 'I hate this group,' she says, breathless. 'Actually hate it.'
'You love us, don't lie.' Manon says, still recovering.
'I love some of you,' Daniela corrects, pointing vaguely. 'Not her.'
You salute with your pizza.
Yoonchae, curled up at the end of the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, shakes her head. 'If I fall, I’m running off stage.'
'You just have to own it,' you say. 'Sit down and become the moment.'
Sophia leans forward, elbows on her knees, looking at you. '…You’re not allowed to fall on stage now,' she says. 'Because I know you. And I know you’d do that on purpose.'
You shrug. 'No promises.'
There’s a brief lull as everyone reaches for more pizza, the conversation shifting naturally.
Manon nudges one of the boxes toward you with her foot. 'You’ve had, like, two slices. Have some more.'
'I’m pacing myself.' You say.
'For what? You’ve been holding that slice for ten minutes.'
'I’m thinking.'
'About what?'
You look at the pizza. '…life.'
Lara groans. 'Oh my god.'
Megan flops onto her back dramatically. 'We have that eighteen hour rehearsal in two days. I’m not ready.'
'You’re never ready.' Daniela says.
'That’s not true—I was ready once.'
'When?'
'…I don’t remember, but it happened.'
Yoonchae peeks over the edge of her blanket. 'What’s the plan after rehearsals again?'
'Interviews,' Sophia answers. 'Then we're filming for that ad.'
'And then more interviews.' Manon adds.
'And then probably another interview.' Lara says.
You sigh. 'I’m going to accidentally say something stupid again.'
'That’s not an accident.' Daniela says immediately.
'That’s a personality trait.' Megan adds.
You sit up straighter. 'Okay, but in my defence—people ask questions.'
'And you answer all of them.' Sophia says.
'Yeah. Thoroughly.'
Manon glances at you, smiling slightly. 'You don’t have a filter.'
'I don’t see the point.' You reply simply.
'And that’s the problem.' Sophia mutters.
There’s another pause, softer this time. Its comfortable in the way that only happens when no one feels the need to fill it.
Then, out of nowhere, Lara goes, 'Wait—have any of you ever tried alcohol?'
That gets everyone’s attention.
Megan props herself up. 'No.'
Yoonchae shakes her head. 'Nope.'
Daniela shrugs. 'No.'
Sophia and Manon both echo one another, 'No.'
They all look at you.
You blink. '…What kind of question is that?'
'It’s a normal question!' Lara defends.
'You asked it like we’re in a documentary.' You say.
'I was just wondering!'
You lean back on your hands. 'No, I haven’t.'
'See? Normal answer.' Sophia says.
You tilt your head slightly. '…I feel like I’d either hate it or become a problem.'
Megan sits up again. 'A problem how?'
You think for a second. '…Like I’d start telling even more truths.'
'No.' Sophia says immediately. 'My god I can see it happening.'
'Absolutely you would.' Daniela agrees.
'You're banned from ever trying alcohol.' Lara adds.
Manon laughs softly. 'We’d have to take care of you.'
'You already do.' You say without thinking.
It slips out easily. No weight behind it. Just fact. There’s a tiny shift in the room. Not heavy. Just… noticeable.
Sophia’s expression softens slightly. Megan smiles. Yoonchae relaxes further into the couch. Daniela points at you. 'Don’t get sentimental now. You were just bullying Lara.'
'I can multitask.' You reply.
Lara throws another cushion. This time you do dodge it, but barely.
'Okay, but seriously,' Megan says, sitting up again. 'If you fall on stage and just sit there, I’m leaving you. I'd walk away and pretend you didn't exist.'
'No, you wouldn’t.' You say.
'I would.'
'You’d laugh first.'
'…I would laugh first.' She admits.
Manon nudges your shoulder lightly with her foot. You glance at her. She’s smiling. Not laughing this time. Just… warm.
'You’d still get up eventually.' She says.
You consider that. '…Maybe.' You admit.
The TV continues playing in the background. No one pays attention. The pizza gets colder. The conversations drift, overlap, restart.
Arguments spark and die in seconds, never serious. They overlap, interrupt, circle back. Someone’s always talking, someone’s always reacting, and somehow it all makes sense anyway.
Until Megan narrows her eyes at you. '…Wait.'
Uh oh. You recognise that tone immediately.
'What?' You ask, already suspicious.
She sits up properly now, pointing at you like she’s just connected something important. 'No, because I’ve been thinking about it—and I need to understand.'
'That’s never good.' Daniela mutters.
'I do, I need to understand,' Megan insists, not taking her eyes off you. 'Why are you like this?'
You blink. '…Like what?'
'All of this,' she gestures vaguely at you. 'The talking. The—no filter. The things you choose to say out loud.'
Lara leans forward, suddenly invested. 'No, yeah. Actually. I want to know too.'
Yoonchae peeks out from her blanket again. 'Same.'
Even Sophia looks curious now, head tilted slightly. Manon doesn’t say anything—just watches you, quiet, interested.
You look between all of them. '…I don’t know,' you say honestly. 'I’ve just always been like this.'
'That’s not an answer.' Daniela says.
'It’s the only one I’ve got.' You shrug.
Megan squints harder. 'No, there had to be a moment. Like a catalyst. A... a before and after.'
'There was no before,' you say. 'I came out the womb talking.'
'That’s not how babies work.'
'You don’t know that.'
Lara snorts. You take another bite of pizza, completely unbothered. 'I think I just don’t see the point in not saying things.'
'But some things—' Sophia starts carefully, '—are usually… filtered.'
'By who?' You ask.
'By everyone.'
'Sounds fake.'
Daniela lets out a sharp laugh. 'Oh my god.'
Megan leans closer. 'Okay, but has it always been like… this level?'
You think for a second. '…Yeah.'
'Be serious.'
'I am.'
You pause, chewing thoughtfully. 'Oh—there was that one time I made a boy pass out.'
That made everyone go quiet... again.
'…What?' Yoonchae says. 'Where did that come from?'
You nod like it’s nothing. 'Yeah... uh— I don't know. I think that was my earliest memory of oversharing.'
'No—no, you’re not moving past that,' Daniela says, sitting up straighter. 'Explain yourself woman.'
You shrug again. 'We were in school and some random guy asked a question.'
'That was his first mistake.' Lara mutters.
'He asked why girls get so moody sometimes.' You continue.
Megan already looks like she knows where this is going. 'Oh no…'
'And I was like—okay, I’ll explain.'
Sophia covers her face.
'I went into detail,' you say. 'Like… full detail. Biological. Emotional. Real-life examples.'
You pause, way too proud of yourself.
'Like I explained cramps, mood swings, the whole ‘your body just decides to start shedding its lining every month’ situation—'
You gesture vaguely, like that somehow helps. '—and how sometimes you think you’re fine and then suddenly you’re not, and there’s pain and chaos and you’re just expected to go about your day like nothing’s happening.'
You sigh. 'I even got into how unpredictable it can be,' you add. 'Like, timing? Not always your friend.'
Daniela is staring at you. Manon’s lips are already twitching.
'I didn't even get to the gory parts,' you continue, motioning your hand to nothing in particular, 'and when I looked up, he was just—'
You tilt your head back dramatically. '…out like a light.'
Lara screams. Megan collapses sideways into the couch. Yoonchae disappears back into her blanket.
'You made him pass out?!' Daniela yells.
'His nosy ass asked.' You defend.
'You traumatised him!'
'I educated him!'
Manon is laughing now, quieter than the others but just as gone, shoulders shaking as she leans back against the couch.
'You didn’t stop?' She asks.
'He didn’t tell me to stop.' You say.
'How could he?! He was unconscious!'
You pause. '…That’s not my fault.'
Sophia drops her hands from her face, staring at you in disbelief. 'You didn’t think—at any point—that maybe you should tone it down?'
'No, because he needed to learn.' You say simply.
Daniela points at you again. 'You’re actually insane.'
'I’m informative.'
'You’re a public health risk.'
Megan groans into a cushion. 'Imagine being him. You wake up and she’s still talking—'
'I probably was.' You admit.
'That’s HORRIFYING.'
Lara wipes tears from her face. 'No wonder you’re like this now. You’ve never been stopped.'
'I have.' You say.
'When?'
'…Teachers got involved.'
That sets them off again.
Yoonchae’s voice is muffled from inside her blanket. 'I’m scared of you.'
'You shouldn’t be,' you say. 'I’d warn you first.'
'That doesn’t make it better!'
Manon shifts slightly, leaning her head back against the couch, still smiling as she looks at you. 'You really don’t overthink it, do you?' She says.
You glance at her. 'For talking?' You ask.
She nods.
You think for a moment. '…No,' you admit. 'It just comes out.'
There’s no embarrassment in it. No apology. Just truth. Manon hums softly, like that makes sense to her.
Sophia exhales, shaking her head, but there’s a small smile there now. 'We’re going to have to monitor you in interviews.'
'You already do.'
'More closely.'
You nod like that’s fair.
Daniela leans back, grabbing another slice of pizza. 'I’m never asking you a question again.'
'That’s smart.' You say.
Lara points at you. 'No—because you’d answer a question no one even asked.'
'That’s also true, it happens way too often.'
Megan peeks out from behind her cushion. '…I still can’t believe you made someone pass out.'
You shrug. 'He learned a couple things that day. Never to ask me something again and to mind his own business.'
There’s a pause. Then Manon starts laughing again. Soft at first. Then louder. And just like that, the conversation derails again. Back into noise, overlapping voices, stupid arguments about nothing.
Exactly where it belongs.
---
The night should be winding down. Pizza’s been reduced to crusts and regret, the TV is still playing something none of you have followed for the last hour, and everyone’s sort of… melted into the living room.
Megan’s half lying on her stomach at the end of the couch, feet kicking idly in the air. Lara’s scrolling on her phone beside her. Yoonchae is still cocooned in her blanket. Sophia’s leaned back, eyes half-lidded but listening to everything.
Daniela’s on the floor now, back against the couch. Manon’s stretched out nearby, one arm draped lazily over her eyes.
And you—you’re on the rug again, absentmindedly picking at the corner of a pizza crust, not really paying attention to anything in particular.
It’s quiet, the peaceful kind, for once.
'…Oh my god.' Megan sits up suddenly. Immediate red flag.
'What?' Daniela asks.
'No—no, everyone come here,' Megan says, already scrambling to sit properly, phone in hand. 'I just found something.'
Lara groans. 'If it’s another dog video—'
'It’s not a dog video.'
'…I’m listening.'
Megan is already grinning. That kind of grin. The dangerous one.
'Come here.' She repeats, patting the space next to her.
One by one, the girls shift closer. Lara leans over her shoulder. Daniela pushes herself up onto her knees. Yoonchae peeks out from her blanket again. Manon lowers her arm from her face, turning her head slightly. Sophia leans forward just enough to see.
You don’t move. You already know something suspicious is about to go down.
Megan taps the screen. The audio hits first. Your voice. Loud. Clear. Unmistakable.
'—I’m just saying, if they wave at me and I wave back, and then it wasn’t for me? I have to move countries.'
The room erupts instantly.
'OH MY GOD—' Daniela yells.
'That’s you—' Lara is already laughing.
Yoonchae hides her face.
Megan is cackling. 'WAIT—there’s more—'
The clip cuts. Another one.
'—No because if you can’t kiss properly, what are we doing? Like genuinely, what’s the plan—'
'TURN IT OFF—' Sophia lunges for the phone.
Megan jerks away, still laughing. 'NO—'
Manon is gone, fully laughing into the couch cushion now. Lara is gripping Megan’s shoulder to stay upright.
Daniela is half screaming, half laughing. 'WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT—'
'They asked.' You say weakly from the floor.
'No one asked that!' Megan wheezes.
Another clip.
'—I made a boy pass out once.'
The girls lose it again.
'You said that during a livestream too?!' Lara is crying now.
'You didn’t even warn him!' Daniela shouts.
'He asked!' Your voice echoes from the phone and from you at the same time.
Megan drops back onto the couch, kicking her legs. 'This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.'
You finally glance up. '…You’re welcome I guess.'
'No, wait—there’s more—there’s more—' Megan wipes her eyes, letting the video keep playing.
Clip after clip. Moments you barely remember. Things you said without thinking. Reactions. Interviews. Livestream chaos.
'—I don’t think I’m the problem. I think people are just surprised by honesty—'
'—If I fall on stage, I’m staying there—'
'—That’s not a red flag, that’s a warning sign—'
The girls are losing their minds.
Sophia is laughing despite herself now, head shaking. 'I can’t believe this is our life.'
'It’s her life.' Daniela corrects, pointing at you.
'Yeah! And you’re part of it.' You say.
'I didn’t consent!'
Manon glances over at you from where she’s sitting on the floor. You’re still a little removed from the group, just listening. Watching them react to you like it’s a separate entity. Her smile softens slightly.
Megan lets the video loop. Once. Twice. They laugh again at the same parts.
It somehow doesn’t get less funny.
'Okay—okay—last time,' Megan says, catching her breath. 'Then I’m scrolling.'
She swipes onto a new video. A different voice. Male.
'—No because why do people say ‘act natural’? What does that even mean? This is natural. You just don’t like it—'
The room quiets slightly. Not silent. Just… confused.
Megan blinks. '…Wait.'
On the screen, the guy keeps going—completely unfiltered, pacing, talking with his hands, spiralling into a completely unrelated tangent mid-sentence.
'—And another thing—why do we all pretend we know what we’re doing? No one knows anything. We’re all just guessing confidently—'
Lara leans closer. Her eyes widen. '…Oh my god.'
'What?' Daniela asks.
Lara points at the screen. 'I know him.'
'You do?' Megan says.
'Yeah—he’s from Heated Rivalry. Hudson something or other—'
You go very still on the floor. But no one notices.
On the phone, Hudson keeps talking—jumping topics, no filter, saying things as they come, completely unapologetic about it.
There’s a pause in the room. A slow, creeping realisation.
Megan slowly turns her head. Looks at you. Then back at the screen. Then back at you again.
'…Why is that literally you?' She asks.
Daniela squints. 'Wait—no—'
She looks between the phone and you. Back and forth. '…Oh my god.'
Yoonchae lowers her blanket fully now, staring. Sophia straightens slightly. Manon’s gaze shifts from the screen to you—sharper now. Not laughing. Noticing.
Lara lets out a disbelieving laugh. 'No—no way.'
Megan pauses the video. Points at the screen. Then at you. 'You are literally the female version of him.'
You stare at the crust in your hands. '…I don’t see it.'
'YOU DON’T SEE IT?!' Lara nearly shouts.
Megan hits play again.
'—If I overthink it, I won’t say it. So I don’t overthink—'
She pauses it again immediately. Points at you.
'Okay... you have literally said that.'
You shrug. 'Probably at some point, yeah.'
Daniela is pacing now. 'No, this is weird. This is actually so weird.'
Yoonchae nods slowly. 'It’s the same energy…'
Sophia watches the video again, more carefully this time. Then looks at you. '…That’s unsettling.'
Manon is still quiet. Watching you now more than the screen.
Megan scrolls back, replaying a bit where he goes off on a completely random tangent mid-thought. Then looks at you again. 'I feel like you’d get along.' She says.
You snort quietly. 'Or we’d be unbearable together.'
'That too.' Lara says immediately.
Daniela shakes her head, still in disbelief. 'I can’t believe there’s two of you.'
'Nature made a mistake.' Megan says.
You finally look up properly now. '…Or maybe we’re just right.'
That sets them off again. Manon laughs softly this time, shaking her head. Sophia leans back again, exhaling. Yoonchae disappears back into her blanket. Megan is still staring at the phone like she’s just discovered something life-changing.
'…I’m sending this to the group chat.'
'Everyone's literally here right now.' Lara says.
'I’m still sending it.'
You drop your pizza crust into the empty box. Lean back on your hands. And for once—you’re quiet.
Listening to them talk about you like you’re a phenomenon. Like you’re something to figure out.
Manon glances at you again. Still smiling. Still seeing you.
And you? You just shake your head slightly. '…There’s two of us. That’s crazy.'
'Too crazy.' Megan mutters, still staring at her phone like she’s uncovered a conspiracy.
Daniela drops back down onto the floor. 'I’m telling you, the world cannot handle two of you. It’s dangerous.'
'It’s already dangerous,' Lara adds. 'We can barely handle one.'
You huff a quiet laugh, leaning back on your hands again. 'Relax. I’m manageable.'
'No, you’re not.' Sophia says immediately.
'Not even slightly.' Yoonchae agrees from inside her blanket.
The conversation starts to drift again—like it always does. Megan keeps replaying parts of the video. Daniela is still in disbelief. Lara is making comparisons out loud like she’s building a case.
But Manon... Manon hasn’t looked at the phone again. She’s looking at you. Not obviously. Not enough for anyone else to clock it. Just… watching.
Because she saw it. That tiny shift. The way you went quiet. The way your shoulders tensed for just a second when Daniela said his name. And then, you make it worse.
Megan plays another clip of him. You don’t even look at the screen this time.
You just quietly say, '…He talks too fast when he’s nervous.'
It slips out. Too easy. Too natural. The room pauses. Just slightly.
Megan frowns. 'You got that from one clip?'
You blink. '…Yeah?'
Manon tilts her head. Because that didn’t sound like a guess. That sounded like knowing. She doesn’t say anything yet. Just watches. Waits.
A few minutes pass and the chaos resumes. Barely. Until your phone lights up beside you on the floor. A notification.
You don’t even think. You reach for it quickly—too quickly—and flip it over before anyone can see.
That’s it. That’s the moment when Manon decides to strike.
Manon’s eyes narrow slightly. '…Okay.'
You freeze. 'What?' You ask, too casual.
She pushes herself up onto her knees and moves closer. Slow and deliberate.
'That’s too convenient,' Megan adds. 'You just happen to be dating the male version of you?'
'Yeah,' you say. 'It’s efficient.'
Sophia narrows her eyes slightly. '…Why didn’t you say anything?'
There it is. You hesitate just for a second. '…Because I wasn’t allowed to.'
That lands.
'What do you mean?' Lara asks.
'His management,' you explain, sitting up slowly now that Manon’s no longer actively sitting on you. 'They don’t want it public. Like… at all.'
Daniela blinks. 'So you just—what—never tell anyone?'
You gesture vaguely at all of them. 'I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.'
'…Oops.' Megan says.
'Yeah. Oops.'
Manon is still looking at you. Closer now. Quieter. '…How long?' She asks.
'A while,' you admit. 'Not like—forever. But… enough.'
Yoonchae frowns slightly. 'When do you even see him?'
You shrug again. 'We don’t. Not much.'
'That’s sad.' Lara says immediately.
'It’s not,' you say. 'We just… make it work.'
'How?' Daniela asks.
You smile slightly. Smaller than usual. '…We FaceTime. Every night, mostly.'
That softens something in the room.
Megan blinks. 'Every night?'
'Yeah.'
Sophia leans back again, processing. '…And that’s enough?'
You nod. 'It is.'
Manon’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer. Like she’s trying to piece something together.
'…That’s actually kind of cute.' Yoonchae says quietly.
'Don’t make it a thing.' You warn.
'It is a thing,' Daniela says. 'You’re secretly in a long-distance relationship with your male twin.'
'That’s crazy.' Megan adds.
You nod. '…Yeah.'
Lara points at you. 'Wait—so all of that—' she gestures to the phone, the videos, the chaos, '—that’s just what your conversations are like?'
You think about it. '…Worse.'
The room explodes again. Manon finally laughs, shaking her head. Sophia exhales, somewhere between stressed and amused. Daniela is pacing again. Megan is already reaching for your phone.
'Show us texts.'
'No.'
'Call him.'
'Absolutely not.'
You push yourself fully upright now, brushing yourself off like you didn’t just get interrogated into exposing your entire secret life.
'…You literally tortured that out of me.' You say, looking at Manon.
She just smiles. Unapologetic. 'Worth it.'
You stare at her for a second. Then shake your head. '…You’re all insane.'
'You’re insane.' They chorus back.
And somehow, even after that, it settles right back into noise again. Like it always does.
---
Your room is finally quiet. For the first time all day, there’s no noise from the living room, no overlapping voices, no one yelling your name from three rooms away.
You’re laid on your bed, lights dimmed, makeup washed off, hair slightly damp from your shower. One leg is hanging off the side of the mattress, your phone resting on your chest as you scroll mindlessly.
You’re mid-yawn when your phone lights up.
Hudson.
You don’t even hesitate. You answer immediately, flipping onto your side.
'Hi, loser.'
'Hi, menace.'
His face fills the screen—dim lighting, hoodie pulled over his head, already looking like he’s been waiting for this call.
You grin. 'You look like you just committed a crime.'
'I did,' he nods seriously. 'I ate cereal without milk.'
You gasp. 'Jail. Immediately.'
'I drank water with it.'
'Electric chair.'
He snorts, shaking his head. 'You’re so dramatic.'
'You love it.'
'I tolerate it.'
'Liar.'
'Yeah,' he shrugs, softer now. 'Yeah, I do.'
There’s a comfortable pause. Not awkward. Never awkward. Just… easy.
You shift, pulling your blanket up slightly. 'The girls found a video of you today.'
His eyes narrow instantly. 'Oh no.'
'Oh yes.'
'What kind of video?'
'The kind where you sound exactly like me.'
'That’s concerning.'
'They think I’m the female version of you.'
He pauses. '…they’re not wrong.'
'Shut up.'
'You literally threatened Daniela with a good time on livestream.'
'It wasn't like that! But I stand by it.'
'I know you do, that’s the problem.'
You laugh, burying your face briefly into your pillow. 'I miss you.' You mumble into the fabric.
There’s a moment of silence. Then, softer— 'I miss you more.'
You peek back at the screen. 'That’s impossible. I’m me.'
'Yeah,' he nods. 'Exactly. That’s why it’s worse for me.'
You grin, cheeks warm. For a moment, everything is calm. Then, there's a noise. Faint. Outside your room.
You freeze slightly. '…did you hear that?' You ask.
Hudson tilts his head. 'Hear what?'
There it is again. A soft shuffle.
You sit up slowly, frowning. 'Okay, that’s not the building. That’s—'
'You’re about to get murdered on FaceTime.' He says immediately.
'If I die, delete my search history.'
'I don’t even know your passwords.'
'Figure it out. I believe in you.'
You slide off the bed, gripping your phone tighter. 'If I don’t come back, tell people I was hot.'
'You are hot.'
'Good. Spread that.'
You crack your bedroom door open. The hallway is dark. Too quiet. You step out slowly, phone clutched in your hand, Hudson’s face still on screen.
'If one of you is out here,' you say cautiously, 'I swear I’ll cry. Not out of fear—just extreme disappointment... and that's worse.'
Hudson snorts. 'They’re definitely out there.'
'Don’t say that like you’re enjoying this.'
'I am. This is entertainment.'
You narrow your eyes slightly, taking another step forward. '…I told them I FaceTime you every night,' you mutter. 'I don't think they believed me.'
'They don’t believe a lot of things you say.'
'That’s because I say insane things.'
'Exactly.'
Another noise. A shuffle. A poorly suppressed whisper. You stop dead. '…oh my god.'
Hudson leans closer to his screen. 'What?'
You don’t answer. You just walk forward faster now and swing the door open fully—and scream.
A pile of bodies collapses. Six girls. On the floor. Tangled together like they’ve been caught mid-heist.
Megan is crying with laughter already, half-hidden behind Manon. 'YOU ACTUALLY DO IT—'
'DO WHAT???'
'FACETIME EVERY NIGHT—'
You freeze. Slowly. '…you’re joking.'
Manon grins, completely unashamed. 'We had to verify.'
'You were verifying? Like I’m a scientific experiment?'
'You lie sometimes!' Lara defends from the floor.
'I don’t LIE, I OVERSHARE—'
'That’s worse!'
You drag a hand down your face.
Hudson’s voice cuts in, way too calm. 'Hi again.'
Six heads snap toward your phone.
'OH MY GOD HE’S STILL THERE—' Yoonchae panics.
'OF COURSE HE’S STILL THERE, WE WERE MID-CONVERSATION—'
Daniela crawls closer, squinting at the screen. 'So you weren’t exaggerating.'
'I NEVER EXAGGERATE—'
Everyone pauses.
'…okay, I exaggerate sometimes. But I always tell the truth!' You correct.
'ALL the time.' Megan adds.
'Shut up.'
Manon leans in next, resting her chin on your shoulder like she belongs there. 'So this is your nightly routine?'
'Yes,' you say flatly. 'We talk. Like normal people.'
Hudson nods. 'She insults me, I insult her, we say we miss each other, very healthy.'
Sophia finally speaks from behind the chaos, arms crossed but clearly amused. 'You couldn’t have just shown us this earlier?'
'No, because then you would’ve made it weird.' You shoot back.
'We’re making it weird anyway.'
'Exactly my point!'
Lara gasps suddenly. 'Wait—how long were you on the call before we got caught?'
You blink. '…like ten minutes.'
'WE WERE OUT HERE FOR FIFTEEN—'
'YOU WERE OUT HERE THE WHOLE TIME?!' You stare at them.
'We had to get into position!' Daniela defends.
'Position?! You were LAYING ON THE FLOOR—'
'It was strategic!'
'You looked like a pile of laundry!'
Hudson is fully laughing now, head dropped forward. 'This is insane.'
'This is my life,' you gesture around. 'This is what I deal with.'
Manon nudges you slightly, still smiling. 'You love it.'
You pause. '…unfortunately, yeah.'
There’s a beat where everyone settles just a little. Still chaotic. Still crowded. But softer.
Yoonchae edges closer, peeking at the screen again. 'Do you actually fall asleep on call?'
You shrug. 'Sometimes.'
Hudson nods. 'She passes out mid-sentence.'
'I do not—'
'You literally stopped talking yesterday and started snoring.'
'I was NOT snoring—'
'You were.'
'You’re lying.'
'I have video evidence.'
You gasp. 'Delete that right now.'
'Never.'
Megan clutches her chest. 'This is actually kind of cute.'
'Don’t say that,' you point at her. 'You’ll ruin it.'
'Too late,' Lara says. 'It’s already cute.'
You exhale softly, shaking your head. '…I can’t believe you were all eavesdropping instead of just knocking.'
Daniela shrugs. 'Where’s the fun in that?'
'Privacy?' You suggest.
'No.'
You sigh dramatically, looking down at your phone. 'I’m so sorry you had to witness that.'
Hudson smirks. 'No, this is great. I feel like I understand you better now.'
'That itself is dangerous.'
'Yeah,' he nods. 'Everything is starting to make sense.'
You narrow your eyes. 'And that’s offensive.'
'It should be.'
Manon suddenly perks up. 'Wait—stay on call.'
You blink. 'Why?'
She grins. 'We’re all hanging out now.'
You look at the pile of girls still sitting outside your room. Then back at Hudson. '…this is a lot.'
'I can handle it.' He says.
You sigh, already giving in. '…okay, but if they start asking weird questions, I’m hanging up.'
'Too late,' Daniela says immediately. 'I have several.'
'NO—'
Hudson laughs. 'Bring it.'
You stare at your phone. Then at them. Then back at your phone. '…this was a mistake.'
'No,' Megan grins, flopping back onto the floor. 'This is the best night we’ve had all week.'
And honestly? As chaotic as it is, you don’t disagree.
At some point, the chaos settles. Not fully—never fully—but enough that everyone’s no longer yelling over each other.
You’re all still sprawled across the floor outside your room. Someone’s leaning against your leg, someone else is half-lying on a cushion they definitely dragged from the living room. Your door is wide open now, your room light spilling into the hallway.
Hudson’s still on your phone, propped up against your knee. The conversation has drifted. It’s not interrogation anymore—just… talking. About rehearsals. About food. About the weirdest fan gifts. About how you and Hudson actually started talking in the first place.
'You flirted with me.' You say, pointing at your phone.
'I did not.' He shakes his head immediately.
'You literally did.'
'I was being friendly.'
'You called me ‘weirdly charming.’'
'That’s not flirting, that’s an observation.'
'That’s FLIRTING—'
'That’s SCIENCE—'
The girls dissolve again.
'OH MY GOD—' Megan wheezes.
'You’re both insufferable.' Lara mutters, smiling.
Manon nudges your shoulder lightly. 'He did flirt.'
'THANK YOU!' You point at her.
Hudson sighs. 'I’m being ganged up on.'
'As you should be.' Daniela says.
Another stretch of easy conversation follows. Softer this time. Comfortable. And then—you glance at the time. Your expression shifts just slightly.
'…wait.'
Hudson notices immediately. 'What?'
'You have call time in like… five hours.'
He pauses. '…oh.'
'Yeah, oh,' you sit up a bit straighter. 'Why are you still here?'
'You didn’t tell me to leave.'
'I shouldn’t have to tell you to go to sleep like a child.'
'I’m not a child.'
'You literally ate dry cereal with water today.'
'That was a low point.'
The girls laugh again, but it’s quieter now.
You shake your head, softer. 'Go to bed.'
He doesn’t move. '… only if you hang up first.'
You narrow your eyes. 'No.'
'No, you.'
'I’m not doing this.'
'We’re doing this.'
You sigh dramatically, flopping back slightly. 'You’re exhausting.'
'You love me.'
You don’t even think about it. 'Yeah. I do.'
The girls are screaming agiain.
'OH MY GOD—'
'YOU SAID IT—'
'YOU JUST SAID IT—'
You freeze. '…oh.'
Hudson’s laughing now, full and bright through the speaker. 'Wow. Okay. That’s how they find out?'
'I DIDN’T—' you sit up, panicking slightly now. 'I didn’t mean— I mean I did mean it, just not like— not like an announcement—'
Manon is grabbing your arm. 'You’re in LOVE?'
'DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT—'
'HOW ELSE DO I SAY IT—'
Sophia is smiling, hand over her mouth. 'That was… very casual.'
'I’m a casual person!'
'That was not casual.' Lara laughs.
Hudson shakes his head, still smiling. 'I love you too, by the way.'
You stop. Look at your phone. '…yeah?'
'Yeah.'
Your expression softens for just a second. Real. Quiet. Then immediately— 'Okay, go to sleep,' you point at him. 'Before you get fired.'
'I won’t get fired.'
'You might. And I don’t want that on my conscience.'
'You don’t have a conscience.'
'That’s true.'
He huffs a laugh. 'Goodnight.'
'Night.'
There’s a tiny pause. Neither of you hang up.
'…hang up.' You say.
'You hang up.'
'I’m serious.'
'Me too.'
You stare at him. Then, without warning— You end the call.
The screen goes dark. And the second it does— 'AAAAAAAAAAAA—'
You get tackled. Fully. By Manon and Daniela at the same time.
'YOU’RE IN LOVE—'
'I AM NOT—'
'YOU LITERALLY SAID IT—'
'I SAY A LOT OF THINGS—'
'NOT THAT—'
Megan is kicking her feet again. 'This is insane. This is actually insane.'
Yoonchae is just smiling, softer than the rest. 'It’s cute.'
'THANK YOU.' You point at her.
Sophia crouches down beside you as you struggle under the weight of two idiots. 'You could’ve told us like that, you know.'
'Like what? Accidentally confessing my feelings in front of an audience?'
'…fair.'
Lara crosses her arms, grinning. 'I can’t believe you kept this quiet.'
'I TRIED—' you groan. 'You people don’t let me have secrets.'
'Good,' Daniela says. 'We deserve to know everything.'
'No you do not—'
Manon squeezes you tighter. 'We’re happy for you.'
You pause just for a second. '…yeah?'
'Yeah.'
There’s a small chorus of agreement around you. Messy. Overlapping. Real. You huff, trying to hide the way your chest feels a little too full all of a sudden.
Request: Yes / No
'I was wondering if you could write a story where the reader is like the ‘bear’ of the group. She’s always warm, even in the coldest weather, but she doesn’t sweat—she’s basically like a walking heater. She doesn’t need to wear a hoodie inside the dorm and just chills there while the six girls are all bundled up in hoodies.'
Summary: When the girls realise you're basically a human heater, it quickly becomes an unspoken rule—stick close and steal the warmth. From rehearsals to movie nights to chaotic everyday moments, they rely on you to keep the cold away… until one day, you overheat, and the roles reverse.
A/N: i got a bit delirious towards the end of the story so its a bit unhinged... or maybe not enough? idk you be the judge. all ik is rn im ready to sleep for 100 hours straight💀
Not the dramatic kind of cold—just that constant, creeping chill that settled into your bones and refused to leave. The kind that made the mirrors fog slightly at the edges and turned the floor icy under thin soles.
'Why is it always like this?' Daniela complained, rubbing her hands together as she paced back and forth. 'Do they want us to suffer?'
'I think it builds character.' Lara said dryly, though she was currently wrapped in a hoodie and clutching a thin scarf around her shoulders.
'That’s not character, that’s hypothermia.' Manon added, exhaling into her hands before rubbing them together again.
Yoonchae was practically curled into herself on the floor, sleeves pulled over her hands as she tried to trap any warmth she could. 'I can’t feel my fingers…'
Sophia was near the speaker, hopping lightly from foot to foot. 'We should start moving, that’ll warm us up.'
'No,' Daniela shot back immediately. 'I refuse to dance until I can feel my toes again.'
The door creaked open. All of them turned.
You stepped in like it was any other day. Joggers. Loose top. Bag slung over your shoulder. No hoodie. No jacket. Nothing.
The girls went silent immediately.
'…What?' You asked, pausing just inside the door as all six of them stared at you.
Daniela blinked slowly. 'Why are you dressed like that?'
You glanced down at yourself. '…Like what?'
'Like it’s summer.' Lara said, gesturing toward you with a scarf-wrapped arm.
'It’s freezing.' Yoonchae added, her voice small but very serious.
You frowned slightly, stepping further inside and letting the door shut behind you. 'Is it?'
Six faces stared at you in disbelief.
'Yes.' Manon said flatly.
You shrugged, slipping your bag off your shoulder and dropping it by the wall. 'My apartment was warm.'
'That doesn’t explain anything.' Sophia said, though she was smiling a little.
You didn’t think much of it. Just shrugged absentmindedly and started stretching, like always.
The girls, however, went straight back to trying not to freeze to death.
Daniela resumed pacing. Yoonchae stayed curled up. Lara tightened her hold on the scarf. Sophia kept moving to stay warm. Megan sat curled against the mirror. Manon shook out her hands.
And you— you just stretched. Completely unbothered.
A few minutes passed. The room filled with quiet complaints, soft groans, and the occasional dramatic sigh.
Then there were footsteps. You didn’t look up as someone approached from behind, too focused on loosening your shoulders. A second later, there was a light weight settling against your back.
Lara. You can tell by the scent of her perfume. She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned into you, her forehead pressing between your shoulder blades as she let out a long breath.
'Warmth…' She mumbled.
You blinked mid-stretch. '…What?'
But she didn’t answer right away. Instead, her arms slowly wrapped around your waist from behind.
'…Wait.'
There was a pause.
'Why are you so warm?'
You let out a small, confused laugh. 'I don’t know? I just am.'
Lara pulled back slightly, hands still gripping your sides as she leaned around to look at you.
'No, like—' she pressed her palm against your arm, eyes widening slightly. 'You’re actually warm.'
That caught attention.
'What?' Daniela turned immediately.
'Don’t lie.' Manon said, though she was already walking over.
Megan lifted her head slightly. 'What’s happening?'
'She’s warm.' Lara said, like she’d just discovered something life-changing.
You snorted. 'Everyone’s warm, Lara.'
Lara leaned back just enough to look at you properly, her eyes narrowed like she was trying to solve something.
Then without warning, she grabbed onto your arm. 'Come here.'
'Lara—'
She pulled. Your balance shifted immediately, your hands catching yourself as she dragged you slightly across the floor with surprising determination.
'Lara—what are you doing—'
'Daniela,' she called, not stopping. 'Feel her.'
Daniela turned mid-complaint. 'Feel wh—'
Lara shoved your arm toward her. Daniela grabbed it automatically and froze.
'…Why are you so hot?' She said.
'I’m... I'm not—'
'You are,' she interrupted, still holding your arm like she didn’t quite believe it. 'Why are you so warm?'
You pulled your arm back slightly. 'I’m normal.'
'No, you’re not.' Lara said immediately, already scooting closer to you again.
From the side, Yoonchae had slowly gotten up, curiosity pulling her closer.
'…Can I check?' She asked quietly.
You looked at her, then at the others. 'Uh… sure?'
She reached out carefully, touching your sleeve. Her eyes widened almost instantly. 'You’re really warm…' She murmured.
Manon stepped closer next, more composed, but clearly curious now. She brushed her hand briefly against your other arm.
A small pause. '…That is not normal.' She said simply.
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. 'Why is everyone acting like I’m a science experiment?'
'Because you kind of are right now.' Daniela said.
Behind you, Lara had already re-attached herself. This time without hesitation. She leaned fully into your back again, arms wrapping around you tighter than before.
'Don’t move.' She said.
You sighed, but there was a smile in it now. '…You’re really committing to this.'
'I was cold,' she replied simply, voice muffled slightly against your back. 'I’m just nice now.'
That made you laugh properly.
From across the room, Sophia shook her head. 'That’s actually kind of genius.'
Megan finally pushed herself off the wall. Not rushing. Just walking over slowly.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just stopped beside you and watched. Then, quietly she reached out and tapped your arm. Lightly. Testing.
Her brows lifted, just slightly. '…Huh.'
You glanced up at her. 'What?'
She shook her head a little, like she was filing the information away. '…Strange.'
But she didn’t move far after that. Just stayed nearby. Close enough.
Meanwhile, Lara tightened her hold on you again. 'You’re not allowed to leave.' She declared.
'I just got here.' You said.
'Good.'
Daniela crossed her arms, still eyeing you. 'This is actually insane.'
Manon nodded once. 'Useful, though.'
Yoonchae hovered close, not quite leaning this time, but definitely staying within range of your warmth.
You looked around at all of them, still slightly confused—but amused now. '…You guys are weird.'
'Maybe.' Lara said into your back. 'But you’re warm.'
You huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you tried to lean forward again.
It didn’t really work. Not with Lara attached.
'Can I continue stretching or am I just stuck like this now?' You asked.
'No.' She said immediately.
Daniela snorted. 'You’ve been claimed.'
You twisted slightly to look at her. 'Hey! I’m not an object.'
'Debatable,' she replied. 'Right now you’re a heater.'
From beside you, Megan let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
You glanced at her. She didn’t say anything—just looked away, like she hadn’t meant to react.
Yoonchae hovered awkwardly near your side. 'Are you… actually not cold at all?'
You shook your head. 'Not really.'
Manon tilted her head slightly, observing you like she was still trying to figure it out. 'That’s impressive.'
Lara squeezed you again. 'Don’t move.' She repeated.
'I have to move,' you laughed. 'We’re literally here to rehearse.'
'Five more minutes.' She bargained.
Before you could argue, the studio door opened again. Everyone froze.
Your choreographer stepped in, already mid-sentence as he glanced down at his phone—then stopped.
His eyes lifted. Took in the scene. You on the floor. Lara attached to your back. Daniela standing there like she’d just witnessed something life-changing. Yoonchae hovering. Manon watching. Sophia halfway across the room. Megan standing close by.
There was a brief pause.
'…I’m not gonna to ask.' He said flatly.
The room went dead silent.
Lara didn’t move. You closed your eyes briefly. '…Yeah that’s probably for the best.'
He nodded once. 'Good. Warm up properly and let’s start from the top.'
'Lara.' You said.
'No.'
'Lara.'
She groaned dramatically but finally let go, her arms sliding off you as she leaned back with a sigh like she’d just lost something important.
'I was comfortable…'
'You’ll survive.' Daniela said, already moving back into position.
You pushed yourself up from the floor, stretching your arms out again properly this time.
'Barely.' Lara muttered, but she stood anyway, tugging her hoodie sleeves down over her hands again.
The group slowly reset.
Sophia moved to her spot, clapping lightly. 'Okay, lets focus.'
Manon rolled her shoulders back, posture straightening. Yoonchae shuffled into place, still glancing at you every now and then. Daniela bounced lightly on her feet, shaking out the cold. Megan stepped into formation too.
Then the music started. And just like that, you were dancing. The cold didn’t matter as much once you started moving. It never really did.
But still, between transitions, between counts, you caught it.
The way Lara drifted closer during breaks. The way Yoonchae stood just slightly within your space. The way Daniela brushed past you like she was 'accidentally' checking again.
Even Megan, quiet and subtle, stayed near. Not touching. Not obvious. Just… there.
By the time the first run-through ended, everyone was breathing heavier, bodies finally warming up from movement.
Lara immediately dropped to the floor again. 'I’m going back.' She declared, already reaching for you.
You laughed, stepping back just in time. 'No—absolutely not.'
'Traitor.'
Daniela pointed at you. 'You can’t just have warmth and not share it.'
'I didn’t realise this was my responsibility.' You shot back.
Manon crossed her arms, a small smirk on her face. 'It is now.'
Yoonchae nodded seriously. 'Yeah.'
You looked around at all of them. At the way they were watching you now. Different.
And you sighed. Smiling anyway. '…I’ve created a problem.'
Megan, standing beside you, glanced over briefly. '…Yeah,' she said quietly, 'you have.'
And somehow, even with the cold still lingering in the studio, it didn’t feel quite as bad anymore.
Because now they knew. And they weren’t letting you forget it.
---
Sophia’s apartment was quieter than the rehearsal studio. Softer, too.
The kind of space that immediately made you relax the second you stepped inside—warm lighting, blankets thrown over the couch, the faint smell of something sweet lingering in the air.
Except, it wasn’t actually warm.
'Okay,' Sophia said, setting down a stack of bowls on the coffee table, 'before anyone complains—my heating is broken.'
'I wish,' Sophia replied. 'Maintenance said they’ll fix it tomorrow.'
Lara immediately grabbed one of the blankets off the couch. 'I’m not surviving this.'
Manon shook her head slightly, though she reached for a blanket too. 'It’s not that bad.'
Yoonchae was already wrapping herself up like she was preparing for winter. 'It is.'
Megan, standing near the couch, pulled the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands, shoulders hunching slightly.
'…Why is it colder inside than outside?' She muttered.
You, meanwhile, didn’t think much of it.
'Feels fine to me.' You said casually, kicking your shoes off and heading toward the floor.
Six heads turned.
'…Of course you’d say that.' Daniela muttered.
You just laughed lightly, dropping down onto the rug in front of the coffee table, grabbing a slice of pizza without a second thought.
The others settled in behind you. Couch claimed, blankets distributed, bodies instinctively closer together for warmth.
Lara tucked her legs under herself, wrapped tight in her blanket. Yoonchae sat curled beside her. Daniela leaned into the armrest, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Manon sat more composed, but still wrapped up.
Sophia hovered for a moment before settling at the end. Megan dropped down beside Daniela, tucking one leg under herself as she adjusted her hoodie and leaned slightly closer to the others for warmth.
The movie started. You were already focused on it. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, pizza in hand, completely relaxed. Unbothered. The cold didn’t register to you the same way it did to them. It never really did.
Behind you, though, it was a different story.
'Why is it getting colder?' Daniela whispered like the room itself was plotting against her.
'It’s been five minutes.' Sophia whispered back.
Lara leaned closer to Yoonchae. 'I can’t feel my toes again.'
Yoonchae nodded seriously. 'Same.'
Megan tugged her sleeves further over her hands, shoulders curling in slightly. '…My hands are freezing.'
Manon didn’t say anything. But she adjusted her blanket slightly tighter around her shoulders. And then her eyes briefly flicked to you.
Still sitting there. In a t-shirt. Completely fine.
About twenty minutes in, the movie had settled into a quieter scene. The room dim. The only real light coming from the TV.
You were focused, halfway through another slice of pizza, so you didn’t hear it at first. The quiet shift behind you. The soft movement of fabric.
Not until something moved behind you. Close and sudden. And then there were arms. You flinched. A sharp inhale leaving you as your shoulders tensed instinctively.
'Hey—hey, it’s just me.' Manon’s voice came quickly, calm and low.
You turned your head slightly, still a little startled. '…Manon?'
'Yeah.' She said simply.
Before you could question it further, you felt it. The blanket. It draped around you from behind, settling over your shoulders as her arms wrapped loosely around your middle, pulling you back just slightly— not forcefully. Just enough. Tucking you in.
You blinked. 'Oh.'
It clicked. The warmth wasn’t just yours anymore.
You felt her shift behind you, settling properly, her chin resting lightly near your shoulder as she adjusted the blanket to cover both of you.
'Continue watching.' She said quietly.
There was no teasing in her voice. No big explanation. Just… simple.
You hesitated for a second, then relaxed. Your shoulders dropped. The initial surprise fading quickly as you leaned back slightly into her hold without really thinking about it.
It was warm. Not overwhelming. Not tight. Just… steady.
You could feel the contrast more clearly now—your warmth against the cool air, the blanket trapping it in, her arms holding it there.
'…You were cold.' You murmured.
'A little.' She admitted.
That was it. You huffed a small, amused breath, shaking your head lightly. '…You could’ve just asked.'
'I could have.' She said.
Then after a moment of silence. '…This was easier.'
That made you smile.
Behind you, Lara noticed first.
'…Hey,' she whispered, nudging Yoonchae slightly. 'Look.'
Yoonchae peeked over. Her eyes widened a little.
'She stole her.' Daniela whispered dramatically.
Megan leaned forward slightly, peeking past Daniela, her brows lifting. '…Oh, we’re just doing that now?' She murmured, half amused, half impressed.
Sophia glanced over too, trying not to laugh.
Manon didn’t react. Didn’t move. She just stayed there, calm and composed, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
And you? You just… let it happen. Because it was warm.
The movie continued. Soft dialogue filling the room. Occasional quiet reactions from the others.
But now, you were aware of it. The difference. The way the blanket held the warmth in. The way Manon’s arms rested comfortably around you. The way your back leaned lightly against her without resistance.
It wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t strange. It just made sense.
After a while, you didn’t even think about it anymore. You just reached for another slice of pizza, still watching the movie, still completely at ease, now just… slightly more shared.
And behind you, Manon stayed exactly where she was. Quiet. Warm. Not saying anything. Just keeping you there. Like it was already understood.
Across the couch, Lara pulled her blanket tighter. '…I want a turn later.' She muttered.
'You’re not scheduling her.' Daniela whispered back.
Yoonchae nodded softly. 'We can take turns.'
Megan leaned back into the couch again, adjusting her hoodie with a small huff. '…I’m adding myself to that list.'
Sophia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
You didn’t hear that part. Too focused on the movie. Too comfortable where you were. Too unaware that this was quickly becoming a very real system in the group.
And that you were right at the centre of it.
---
Airports always felt the same. Bright. Busy. A constant hum of movement and voices blending together—rolling suitcases, distant announcements, people rushing past like they were always just about to be late.
The group moved together through it all, a small cluster of familiar energy in the middle of the chaos.
Bags in hand. Passports ready. Half awake.
'Why is it always so cold in here?' Daniela complained, tugging at the sleeves of her hoodie as she walked.
'It’s an airport,' Manon replied simply. 'It’s always like this.'
'That doesn’t mean I have to like it.'
Lara adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, bundled up properly this time. 'At least we dressed for it today.'
'That’s because we learned.' Daniela shot back, glancing briefly at you.
You're walking alongside them in your usual sweats, a loose top and a hoodie that you weren’t even wearing. It was slung over your arm instead.
Sophia noticed immediately. Of course she did. '…You brought a hoodie.' She said, eyeing you.
'Yeah.'
'You’re not wearing it.'
You shrugged. 'I don’t need it.'
She stared at you for a second. Then shook her head with a quiet sigh, like she’d already accepted this about you.
Ahead of you, Yoonchae walked quietly, hands tucked into the sleeves of her own hoodie.
She looked smaller like that. More bundled. But even from a distance, you noticed it.
The slight hunch in her shoulders. The way her hands were pulled in tighter. She was cold.
You didn’t think about it. Didn’t hesitate.
'Yoonchae.'
She turned slightly, blinking up at you. 'Yeah?'
You held your hoodie out toward her. 'Here.'
She paused. '…What?'
'Take it.'
Her eyes flicked between you and the hoodie. 'But—what about you?'
'I’m fine.' You said simply.
She hesitated for maybe half a second, then took it.
'Thank you.' She said quickly, already pulling it over her head.
She didn’t even take her own hoodie off. Just layered yours on top of it without a second thought. It looked ridiculous. Two hoods. Sleeves slightly too long. Fabric bunching.
Daniela stared. '…That’s insane.'
Lara let out a small laugh. 'You look like you’re wearing armour.'
Yoonchae didn’t care. She just pulled the sleeves over her hands again, shoulders relaxing almost instantly.
'…It’s warm.' She said quietly.
You smiled a little. 'Good.'
From behind you, Megan glanced over briefly, taking in the scene before looking forward again, adjusting her own jacket.
Manon shook her head faintly. 'You didn’t even think about that, did you?'
You shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. To you, it never was.
Sophia, however, had slowed slightly to walk beside you. She looked at you. Then at your now empty arm. Then back at you.
'…Are you cold?' She asked.
You shook your head. 'No.'
She didn’t look convinced.
'C'mere.' She said, reaching out before you could react.
Her hands wrapped around your arm, rubbing up and down briskly like she was trying to warm you up manually.
'Sophia—'
'You gave your hoodie away,' she said. 'At least let me—'
She stopped mid-sentence. Her hands slowed. Then paused completely.
'…You’re already warm.' She said, more to herself than anyone else.
You huffed a small laugh. '... yeah.'
She looked at you for a second and then, without overthinking it, she shifted. Instead of letting go, she looped her arms around yours, pulling it in closer and holding it against her chest.
'Oh,' she said lightly. 'This works.'
You blinked. Then smiled a little. '…You’re using me.'
'Obviously.' She replied without hesitation.
You didn’t argue. Didn’t pull away. You just kept walking like that. Through the noise. Through the crowd.
Sophia attached to your arm, quietly stealing warmth. Yoonchae a few steps ahead, still bundled in two hoodies. Daniela and Lara talking quietly. Manon walking steadily beside them. Megan just ahead, occasionally glancing back to make sure everyone was still together.
It was… normal. Weirdly normal. Then the line for check-in came into view.
'Finally.' Daniela muttered.
You all slowed, merging into the queue with everyone else. Suitcases set down. Passports pulled out again.
Sophia was still holding onto your arm. You didn’t even notice how long it had been. Until— 'Next.'
You stepped forward automatically, grabbing your suitcase handle. And paused.
'…Soph.'
She looked up. 'Hm?'
'I need my arm.'
There was a brief pause then she blinked, like she’d forgotten. 'Oh—right.' She let go immediately, stepping back with a small laugh. 'Sorry.'
You smiled, flexing your fingers slightly as you reached for your bag properly. 'It’s okay.'
Behind you, Daniela snorted quietly. 'She got too comfortable.'
'I did not.' Sophia said, though she was still smiling.
'You absolutely did.' Lara added.
Yoonchae, still wrapped in both hoodies, nodded. 'Same.'
You glanced back at them briefly, shaking your head with a soft laugh before turning back to the counter. It was quick. Routine. Check-in. Bag tagged. Sent off.
But as you stepped aside again, back with the group, Sophia didn’t hesitate. She slipped right back to your side.
Not grabbing your arm this time. Just standing close enough. Like she’d already figured out exactly where the warmth was. And wasn’t planning on losing it again.
---
Snow in Los Angeles didn’t make sense. It just… didn’t. Yet there it was. Heavy and constant. Falling in thick, quiet sheets outside your window, coating the streets, the rooftops, the palm trees that looked deeply unprepared for this kind of weather.
The entire city had slowed down. And more importantly—it was cold.
Not just 'oh, it’s a bit chilly.' No. It was the kind of cold that seeped into everything. Apartments. Hallways. Walls that clearly weren’t built for this. Most people were struggling.
You? You were asleep. Fully knocked out. Not even under your covers. Just… on top of your bed.
Still in your clothes from earlier, sprawled slightly diagonally across the mattress like you’d meant to lie down for a second and never recovered.
Your blanket was half hanging off the side. Your pillow barely under your head. Completely unaware of the freezing weather outside.
Across the building, Megan was very much aware.
'This is getting ridiculous.' She muttered, now pacing her apartment with arms crossed tightly over herself after a failed attempt at sleeping.
Her hoodie wasn’t helping. The blanket she’d tried earlier hadn’t helped. Even the heater, which was technically on, felt like it was doing absolutely nothing.
She grabbed her phone. Dialed. It rang. And rang. And rang.
'…Seriously, Y/N? You're always awake...' She muttered, staring at the screen.
No answer.
She tried again but got the same result.
Megan frowned. 'Did she fall asleep already…?'
Another glance at her apartment. Another shiver. '…Yeah, I’m not doing this.'
A decision was made. A few minutes later, your apartment door unlocked. Megan stepped inside like she’d done it a hundred times before—because she had.
'Hello?' She called quietly, shutting the door behind her.
No response.
The place was still. Lights off. Silent.
She made her way down the short hallway toward your room, already knowing where you’d be.
Your door was slightly open. She pushed it gently. And there you were.
'…Oh my god.'
You were fully passed out. On top of your bed. Not even under the blanket.
Megan stared at you for a second. 'You’re actually unbelievable.'
She stepped closer, arms still folded, shaking her head slightly.
'You’re telling me it’s basically snowing in LA and you’re just—' she gestured vaguely at you, '—like this?'
No response. You didn’t even move.
She sighed, stepping up to the side of your bed. '…You have to be cold.'
Carefully, she reached out and grabbed your arm. Then paused.
'…What.'
Her brows furrowed. She squeezed lightly. Then pressed her palm more fully against your arm.
'…You’re warm.'
Not just warm. Actually warm.
Megan stared at you like you’d personally offended her. 'You’re something else entirely.'
You shifted slightly in your sleep, mumbling something incoherent before going still again.
She exhaled slowly through her nose. '…Unbelievable.'
Another glance at your blanket. Then at you. Still not using it.
'Move.' She muttered, already grabbing the edge of it.
You didn’t. So she did it herself. With a bit more effort than expected, she tugged the blanket up, then awkwardly maneuvered you—just enough—to get you under it properly.
You stirred. '…mmh—'
'Shh.' She said automatically, even though you weren’t really awake.
Once you were at least somewhat covered, she hesitated. Looked at the bed. Then at her own arms. Still cold. '…Yeah, no.'
Decision made. She climbed in. Quickly. Sliding under the blanket beside you and immediately shifting closer, chasing the warmth she’d already felt.
And then you woke up. Violently. Your entire body jolted. '—WHAT—'
Megan flinched. 'Whoa—hey—hey—'
You stared at her, heart racing, eyes wide in the dim light. 'What are you doing—?!'
'I tried calling you!' She said quickly, hands up slightly in defence. 'You didn’t answer!'
You blinked at her. Then at your room. Then back at her. '…You broke into my apartment?'
'We all have keys.' She shot back.
You stared for another second. '…Right.'
Silence. You were still half asleep. Still very confused. Brain clearly not functioning at full capacity.
'…Why are you in my bed?'
'It’s freezing,' she said immediately. 'My apartment is unbearable.'
You processed that. Slowly. '…So you came here.'
'Yes.'
'…To my bed.'
'Yes.'
'…To—what. Sleep?'
She gave you a look. '…and to not freeze.'
Another pause.
Your eyes blinked slower this time. Your body already starting to sink back into the mattress.
'…That’s so gay.' You mumbled.
Megan stared at you. '…But I am gay.'
You didn’t respond. Because you were already settling again. Not moving away. Not arguing. Just… accepting it.
Megan exhaled quietly, shaking her head. '…my god.'
But she didn’t leave. Instead, she shifted slightly closer. Not dramatic. Not clinging. Just enough.
Because the warmth was immediate. Real. And after a few seconds, her shoulders relaxed.
'…Okay, yeah,' she muttered softly. 'Worth it.'
You made a small, sleepy noise in response.
Neither of you said anything else. The room fell quiet again. Snow still falling outside. Soft against the window. Inside, it was warm and still.
And within minutes, both of you were asleep. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
---
Manon’s apartment always felt… put together. Clean counters. Soft lighting. Everything in its place. Even when it was lived in, it never felt messy—just warm in a quiet, calm way.
The kitchen, however—was currently occupied. Steam curled up from the pot on the stove, the gentle bubbling filling the space with a low, steady sound.
You stood there, focused, sleeves pushed up slightly as you moved with ease around the counter.
'Are you sure you don’t need help?' Manon asked from where she leaned against the kitchen island, arms loosely crossed.
You shook your head. 'I’ve got it.'
She watched you for a second longer, then nodded. 'Alright. I’m not complaining.'
From the living room, voices drifted in.
'I’m telling you, it was her fault.' Sophia said.
'That doesn’t even make sense.' Yoonchae replied, her voice lighter, amused.
Manon glanced over her shoulder. 'What are they arguing about now?'
'No idea,' you said, reaching for a bowl. 'But I’m not getting involved.'
She smiled faintly. 'Smart.'
A few minutes later, you were finishing up. Ramen, carefully assembled. Soft boiled eggs, perfectly cut. Slices of spam tucked neatly between noodles. Steam still rising.
You picked up the bowl carefully, adjusting your grip before turning toward the living room.
'Food’s—'
The front door burst open.
'I’m actually freezing.'
Daniela. Her voice echoed slightly as she stepped inside, immediately hugging her arms around herself.
'This is getting beyond a joke now,' she continued, kicking the door shut behind her. 'Why is it colder inside than outside? That doesn’t even make—'
She stopped. Because she saw you. Standing there. Holding a bowl of ramen. In a t-shirt. Completely fine.
There was a pause. A very brief one.
'…Oh.'
You blinked. 'Hey.'
You didn’t even get another word out. Because suddenly— Daniela moved. Fast.
'Wait—'
She crossed the room in seconds and latched onto you. Full force. Her arms wrapped around your middle as she pressed into your side like she’d made a life decision and wasn’t turning back.
You stumbled slightly, instinctively adjusting your stance to keep the bowl steady.
'Whoa—hey—!'
'Don’t move.' She said immediately, voice muffled slightly against you.
'I’m holding hot food—'
'I don’t care.'
You let out a disbelieving laugh, trying not to spill anything. 'Daniela—'
'You’re warm.' She cut in, tightening her grip like that settled everything.
From the couch, Sophia leaned forward slightly. 'That was quick.'
Yoonchae nodded. 'She didn’t even say hi properly.'
'I said hi.' Daniela muttered.
'You attacked me.' You corrected.
'Same thing.'
Manon stepped into the doorway from the kitchen, taking in the scene with a small, unsurprised exhale.
'…I leave you alone for five seconds.'
'She’s cold.' You said, like that explained it.
'I am cold.' Daniela added, not moving at all.
You shifted slightly, still trying to balance the bowl in your hands. 'Can you at least let me put this down?'
'No.'
'Daniela.'
'…Fine.'
But she still didn’t fully let go. You went to side step her but she moved with you.
That's when you felt it. Something warm brush against your neck. You froze instantly.
'—WHA—?!'
Your whole body jolted, nearly spilling the bowl as you whipped your head slightly.
'Did you just kiss me?!' You shrieked.
'WHAT—NO?!' Daniela yelled back immediately, just as loud.
'You did—you literally—'
'I DIDN’T—YOU MOVED—'
'I DIDN’T MOVE, YOU’RE ATTACHED TO ME—'
'I WAS TRYING TO NOT DROP YOUR FOOD—'
'BY KISSING MY NECK?!'
'I DIDN’T KISS YOU—'
'THEN WHY DID IT FEEL LIKE THAT—'
'I DON’T KNOW—YOU’RE WARM—'
'THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING—'
'I PANICKED—'
'YOU PANICKED AND KISSED ME?!'
'I DIDN’T—'
Through all of this— she had still not let go. Still fully attached to you. Still holding on like her life depended on it.
On the couch— Sophia had fully lost it. 'Oh my god—' she laughed, covering her face. 'What is happening—'
Yoonchae was doubled over slightly, laughing quietly. 'They’re both screaming—'
Manon just stood there, arms crossed, shaking her head slowly. '…You two are freaks.'
'Don’t do that again!' You said, turning your head slightly to glare at her.
'I didn’t do anything!' Daniela shot back.
'You absolutely did—'
'It was an accident!'
You narrowed your eyes. She narrowed hers right back. A moment of silence passed.
'…You didn’t kiss me?' You asked, more suspicious now than anything.
'No,' she said, equally defensive. 'I would never.'
'Good.'
'Good.'
Another pause.
'…That was weird.' You muttered.
'…Yeah.' She agreed.
And then— like nothing had just happened— she tightened her grip again. Resting back against you. Completely unbothered.
You stared ahead for a second. Then sighed. '…You’re still holding onto me.'
'Obviously.'
'…Unbelievable.'
From the couch, Sophia wiped tears from her eyes. 'Please don’t stop, this is the best thing I’ve seen all day.'
Yoonchae nodded, still smiling. 'That was really loud.'
Manon turned back toward the kitchen. 'I’m pretending none of that just happened.'
You shook your head, but there was a small smile there now. Because somehow, this had just become another completely normal moment.
With a careful breath, you finally managed to steady your hands, nudging Daniela slightly with your shoulder just enough to create space.
You leaned forward—slow, deliberate—and set the bowl down on the coffee table without spilling a single drop.
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you relaxed slightly into her now tightening hold.
'…You have no shame.'
'None.' She said.
From the couch, Sophia laughed. 'At least she’s honest.'
Yoonchae pulled her legs closer under herself, watching the two of you with a small smile.
'You’re not even wearing a hoodie.' You said, glancing down slightly.
'I didn’t think I’d need one.' Daniela replied.
You raised a brow. 'It’s freezing.'
'Yeah,' she said. 'And now I’ve fixed that.'
You huffed out a soft laugh.
She shifted slightly, adjusting her position so she was more comfortable, her head resting lightly against your shoulder now.
The tension in her posture had already eased. Her shoulders weren’t hunched anymore. Her grip wasn’t as tight. Just… settled.
Manon walks back into the room holding chopsticks and a few bowls, shaking her head faintly. 'You didn’t even try to resist.'
'Why would I?' Daniela replied. 'This is efficient.'
'That’s one way to put it.' Sophia said.
You glanced around at them, then back down slightly. '…You could’ve just asked.'
Daniela snorted quietly. 'And wait longer? No.'
That made you smile.
A comfortable silence settled for a moment. The kind that came easily.
'…Is that ramen?' Daniela asked, finally lifting her head slightly.
You glanced at the table. '...no its fried chicken. Yes, its ramen! You've been stood with your head hovering over it for the past two minutes.'
'You could’ve just said yes.' She mumbled, still staring down at the bowl like she’d just discovered something life-changing.
'And ruin the moment?' You shot back lightly.
She looked at it. Then back at you.
'…You made food and didn’t tell me first?'
'You literally just got here.'
'Still...'
You laughed, gently nudging her. 'Go eat.'
She hesitated. Then tightened her hold again. '…Bring it here.'
You stared at her. 'No.'
Sophia laughed. 'You’re so lazy.'
'I’m cold.' Daniela defended.
'You’re attached to the solution.' Manon pointed out.
'…Exactly.'
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. '…Unbelievable.'
But you didn’t move away. Didn’t push her off. Just stood there— letting her cling. Letting her steal warmth without a second thought.
Because at this point, it wasn’t even surprising anymore. It was just… Daniela.
---
The studio had never felt this exhausting before. You were all in for 8 a.m sharp. That’s when it started. Warm-ups. Run-throughs. Corrections. Again. Again. And again.
By the time you’d hit midday, your muscles were already burning. By the time you came back from the short break—barely twenty minutes to breathe, eat something quick, drink water—
it just… kept going. Music looping. Feet hitting the floor in sync. Voices calling counts. Mirrors reflecting every movement back at you.
'Again from the top.'
And you did. You always did. Hours passed like that.
The cold from earlier in the week? Completely gone. Now the studio felt thick. Heavy. Warm in a way that clung to your skin.
And you— you felt it more than usual. Not the cold. Never the cold.
But the heat? That was different. Your shirt stuck slightly to your back. Your breathing heavier than normal. A constant warmth under your skin that didn’t fade, no matter how many times you wiped sweat from your face.
Still, you kept going. Because everyone else was. Because that’s what you did.
Until finally— 'Alright, that’s it for today.'
The music cut. Silence. And your body just gave in. You dropped. Not dramatic. Not graceful. Just collapsed forward onto the floor, arms barely catching you before you ended up face down.
A groan left you, muffled against the ground. '…I’m done.'
Behind you, the others followed soon after.
Daniela flopped onto her back. 'I can’t feel my legs.'
Lara dropped beside her. 'I don’t think I have bones anymore.'
Yoonchae sat down more carefully, though even she looked drained. Sophia lowered herself with a tired exhale. Manon rolled her shoulders, breathing steady but clearly feeling it. Megan leaned back against the mirror, head tipping slightly as she caught her breath.
For a moment, no one moved. Just the sound of breathing.
'…You’re really warm.' Yoonchae’s voice was quiet. You cracked one eye open slightly.
'…I’m always warm.'
'No,' she said, a little closer now. 'Like—really warm.'
She’d shifted, sitting near your head now, her hand hovering slightly before she leaned in just a bit more. 'I can feel it from here.'
Daniela lifted her head slightly from the floor. '…Are you steaming?'
Lara squinted. '…Wait, yeah—'
'You’re lying.' You muttered weakly.
'I’m not,' Daniela said, pushing herself up slightly. 'You actually look like you’re overheating.'
'That’s new.' Manon added, glancing over.
Sophia was already moving. Of course she was. She pushed herself up and came over, crouching beside you as she reached out placing her hand gently against your forehead.
'…Yeah,' she said softly. 'You’re too hot.'
You let out a small groan. 'That’s a first.'
'No kidding.' Daniela muttered.
Sophia didn’t move her hand right away, her touch grounding and steady. Then she shifted slightly.
'Sit up a little.' She said gently.
You didn’t really want to. But you did anyway. Slow. Heavy. The second you moved, the heat seemed to hit you all over again, making you wince slightly.
'Easy.' Sophia murmured.
She started fanning you with her hand instinctively, trying to create some kind of airflow.
It helped. A little.
'Wait—hold on—' Daniela suddenly shuffled closer. You barely had time to react before she grabbed the bottom of your shirt.
'…Daniela—'
And started lifting it up slightly. Then letting it fall. Then lifting it again. Creating the most inconsistent, chaotic airflow possible.
'…What are you doing?' You said, too tired to even argue properly.
'I’m helping.' She said.
'That’s not helping—'
'It is, feel that—'
'It’s uneven—'
'It’s airflow—'
Manon, standing nearby now, let out a quiet laugh. 'I’m surprised you’re not attached to her right now.' She said lightly.
Daniela paused mid-motion. '…What?'
'Like the other day,' Manon continued, grabbing a towel and starting to wave it gently in your direction, much more effectively, 'you wouldn’t even let her put the ramen down.'
There was a beat.
Megan, still leaning against the mirror, blinked. '…You what?'
Daniela immediately pointed at you. 'She started it—'
'I did not—' You mumbled weakly.
'She accused me of kissing her!'
'I didn’t accuse—you literally—'
'You screamed!'
'Because you were on my neck!'
'IT WAS AN ACCIDENT—'
'Why were you that close—'
'Because I was cold—'
Megan stared at the two of you. '…Why do I always miss this type of shit.'
Sophia sighed, still fanning you gently. 'A lot happened, it was hilarious.'
Yoonchae nodded seriously. 'They both screamed... a lot.'
Lara, who had disappeared for a moment, came rushing back in. 'I got water.' She said, slightly out of breath, holding out a bottle.
'Lifesaver.' You muttered.
She crouched beside you, opening it for you before handing it over. You took it, drinking gratefully.
Around you—they all hovered. Sophia fanning you steadily. Manon standing nearby, using the towel properly this time. Daniela still occasionally lifting your shirt like she refused to admit her method wasn’t great.
Yoonchae sitting close, watching carefully. Lara hovering with the water. Megan nearby, arms loosely crossed now, just observing, shaking her head slightly.
'…This is weird.' You mumbled after a moment.
'What is?' Lara asked.
'You guys… taking care of me.'
'You take care of us all the time.' Yoonchae said simply.
Sophia nodded. 'Yeah. Let us have this.'
Manon added, 'It’s only fair.'
Daniela huffed lightly. 'Yeah, don’t make it a thing.'
You let out a quiet laugh. '…Alright.'
You didn’t argue after that. Didn’t brush them off. You just… let yourself sink back slightly. Let the towel waves cool your skin. Let the air from Sophia’s hand ease the heat. Let Lara keep the water coming. Let Daniela continue her questionable method. Let them be there.
Because for once—you needed it. And they were already there to give it.
The studio slowly quieted again. The exhaustion still there. The heat slowly fading. But now, it was softer.
And as you lay there, eyes half closed, breathing finally evening out— you couldn’t help the small smile that settled in. Because maybe being the one who kept everyone warm also meant— you were never going to be left to burn out alone.
---
BONUS:
For a while, you just stayed there. Letting the cool air hit your skin. Letting your breathing settle. Letting the warmth finally ease into something manageable again.
'Alright,' Sophia said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 'Up you get.'
You groaned. 'No.'
'Yes.'
You barely had the energy to argue. Still, you let out a weak, 'Give me five minutes.'
'You’ve had ten.' She replied, not unkindly.
'…That’s unfair.'
She smiled slightly, already hooking an arm under yours. 'Come on.'
With her help—and a lot more effort than it should’ve taken—you managed to sit up. Then stand.
Your legs protested immediately.
'…I regret everything.' You muttered.
'Good,' Daniela said from somewhere nearby. 'That means you worked hard.'
You shot her a tired look.
Sophia kept a steady hand on your arm, making sure you didn’t just collapse again.
'You’re not walking home.' She said, glancing over toward Lara.
Lara looked up instantly. 'I’m driving?'
'Yes,' Sophia replied. 'She's not walking in this condition.'
You didn’t even argue. Didn’t have it in you. '…Okay.' You mumbled.
That alone told them how tired you were.
'Wow,' Daniela said. 'No fight?'
'Too tired.' You said simply.
You slowly made your way over to your bag, movements sluggish, still feeling that lingering heaviness in your limbs.
Everyone else started gathering their things too, the usual end-of-day routine falling into place.
You slung your bag over your shoulder— then paused. Your eyes drifted toward Daniela. She was mid-conversation with Yoonchae, completely unaware.
You stared at her for a second. Then, without a word—you walked over. Slow and deliberate.
She turned slightly. '…What?'
You said nothing. Just leaned in like you were about to kiss her.
Her eyes widened. 'WAIT—' She screamed. Full volume. 'NO—NO—NO—'
She shoved you away and bolted across the room like her life depended on it.
You burst out laughing immediately, the sound breaking through your exhaustion.
'I DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH YOU—' You called after her.
'STAY AWAY FROM ME—' She yelled from across the studio, pointing at you like you were a threat.
'You’re scared of the gays.' You shot back, still laughing.
'I’M NOT SCARED—YOU’RE WEIRD—'
'YOU PANICKED—'
'YOU LUNGED AT ME—'
'I LEANED—'
'THAT’S WORSE—'
On the side, Sophia had fully given up, laughing as she covered her face. 'Please,' she said, breathless, 'can we go home now—'
Yoonchae was giggling quietly. Manon shook her head, though there was a small smile there. Megan just exhaled, amused, grabbing her bag.
Lara was already heading toward the door. 'Come on, before they start round two.'
You adjusted your bag again, still smiling as you turned back. '…You started it.' You muttered toward Daniela.
'I DID NOT—'
'RAMEN INCIDENT.'
'IT WAS AN ACCIDENT—'
'KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT—'
'GO HOME—'
You laughed again, softer this time, the exhaustion finally catching up properly.
And this time, when Sophia gently nudged you toward the door, you went. No resistance. Just tired. Warm. And surrounded by voices that didn’t quite quiet down, even as you all started to leave.
Because somehow, even at the end of the longest day, there was still energy left for this. For laughter. For chaos. For each other.
Request: Yes / No
'Dani x military reader where they’re childhood best friends, r comes home and Dani has to convince r to stay. Totally up to you.'
Summary: After six years in the military, you return home changed and uncertain of what comes next. But when you find Daniela again—living a life you were never part of—you realise some things were never meant to be left behind.
im so sorry its taken me this long to getting this story published. it got deleted somehow and it was a whole thing, i dont wanna relive that lmao. thank you for being so patient! @runthebases21 hope you enjoy
Not next door, but close enough that it didn’t matter. Three houses down. Close enough that your bikes were always dumped somewhere between your driveways, close enough that your parents stopped knocking before entering each other’s homes, close enough that 'going to Daniela’s' never required permission—just a quick shout as you ran out the door.
You met when you were five.
She was chalking on the pavement outside her house—messy suns and stick figures and something that might’ve been a dog. You stood there for a full minute just watching before she looked up.
'…Do you wanna help?' She asked.
You shrugged, walked over, and grabbed a piece of chalk like you’d been doing it your whole life. That was it. From then on, you were everywhere together.
School was the same.
Same classes. Same lunch table. Same whispered conversations when you were supposed to be listening. Daniela was always a little louder, a little brighter—she’d answer questions with confidence even when she was wrong. You were quieter, more observant, but you stayed right beside her like orbit.
If she laughed, you smiled. If you got in trouble, she defended you. If she got in trouble, you were usually the reason.
By the time you hit middle school, Daniela had found dance. You hadn’t meant to follow her into it—it just sort of… happened.
'She’s coming too.' Daniela had told the instructor on your behalf, already dragging you into the studio.
You remember standing in front of the mirror, arms awkward at your sides, watching Daniela pick up choreography like she’d been born knowing it.
'Five, six, seven, eight—'
You missed the first step. And the second. And… most of the rest. Daniela didn’t laugh. Not once.
'Okay, wait—no, you’ve got it,' she insisted, moving behind you, gently adjusting your arms. 'It’s just like—feel the rhythm, don’t think about it so much.'
'That’s the problem,' you muttered. 'I am thinking about it.'
'Then don’t.'
'Wow,' you deadpanned. 'Revolutionary.'
She grinned, completely unhelpful. 'Again.'
You tried again. It was still bad.
She kept trying to help anyway—counting for you, demonstrating slower, grabbing your hands to guide you through the motions. You stepped on her foot once. Elbowed her the second time.
'Sorry.'
'It’s fine!'
It wasn’t fine. You both knew it. Eventually, you ended up sitting against the mirrored wall, watching her instead.
And honestly? You didn’t mind. Because Daniela, when she danced, was… something else. Effortless. Bright. Like the music lived inside her instead of around her. You’d sit there, knees pulled to your chest, pretending you weren’t staring too long.
High school changed things. Not all at once—just slowly, quietly. Daniela got better. Then really good. Then good enough that people started noticing.
She joined more classes. More performances. Talked about auditions, opportunities, things that felt bigger than your street, bigger than your city.
You stayed where you were. Not stuck—just… uncertain.
While everyone else started figuring things out—college plans, career paths, dreams they could actually name—you found yourself staring at forms, blank spaces waiting to be filled, and feeling absolutely nothing.
'What do you want to do?' Daniela asked you once, sprawled across your bedroom floor, homework abandoned between you.
You stared at the ceiling. 'I don’t know.'
'You don’t know at all?'
'No.'
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up. 'Okay, but like… if you could do anything?'
'I don’t even know how to answer that.'
There was no judgement in her expression. Just concern. Always that soft, steady concern when it came to you.
'You’ll figure it out.' She said eventually.
You wished you believed her.
Your parents were the ones who brought it up. The military. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t forced. Just… mentioned, one evening over dinner like it was another option on a list you didn’t know how to write.
'It gives structure,' your dad said. 'Direction.'
Your mom nodded. 'Opportunities too. Education, travel.'
You didn’t say much at first. But later that night, you looked it up. Then again the next day. And the day after that.
Something about it… clicked. Not in a loud, passionate way—but in a quiet, grounding one. Like a path you could actually see, even if you didn’t fully understand it yet.
For the first time in a while, you weren’t staring at a blank space.
You mentioned it to Daniela a week later. Casually. Or at least, you tried to make it sound casual.
'I’ve been looking into something.' You said, sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor while she stretched.
'Oh yeah?' She asked. 'What?'
'…The military.'
She froze. Actually froze mid-stretch, like someone had pressed pause on her.
'What?'
'The military.' You repeated, a little more quietly now.
Daniela slowly straightened, staring at you like you’d just said something completely ridiculous. 'You’re joking.'
'I’m not.'
'Why would you—' She stopped, running a hand through her hair. 'Why would you want to do that?'
You shrugged, even though your chest felt tight. 'I don’t know. It just—makes sense.'
'Makes sense?' She echoed. 'How does that make sense?'
'I need something, Dani.'
Her expression shifted at that. Softened. But not in agreement.
'In the military?' She pressed. 'There are other things. College, training programs, literally anything else—'
'I’ve looked,' you cut in, not harsh, just firm. 'Nothing else… fits.'
She shook her head, pacing now. 'It’s dangerous.'
'I know.'
'You could get hurt.'
'I know.'
'You could—' Her voice faltered. 'You might not come back.'
That one sat heavier. You didn’t respond immediately.
'I’d be trained,' you said eventually. 'I wouldn’t just be thrown into something.'
'That doesn’t make it okay.'
'It makes it something,' you replied. 'Which is more than I have right now.'
Silence stretched between you. Daniela looked at you like she wanted to argue more—but didn’t know how to reach you.
'I don’t like it.' She said finally.
'I know.'
You talked about it a few more times after that. Each time, Daniela pushed back. Not angrily—just… desperately. Like if she found the right argument, the right angle, she could change your mind.
She never did.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, there was something else you didn’t talk about. The way you looked at her sometimes. The way your chest tightened when she laughed too close to someone else.
The way you went quiet when she mentioned her boyfriend—casual, offhand comments that you pretended didn’t land harder than they should. You buried it deep.
Because it didn’t matter. Because she was happy. Because you were leaving anyway.
The night before you left, you asked her to come over. She didn’t hesitate. Of course she didn’t. She sat on your bed, knees pulled in slightly, looking around your room like it already felt different.
Like you were already gone.
'So…' she started, trying for lightness and failing. 'This is really happening.'
'Yeah.'
'Tomorrow?'
'Early.'
She nodded, pressing her lips together. There was so much unsaid in the room it almost felt crowded.
'I still don’t get it,' she admitted quietly. 'Why this. Why that.'
You sat beside her, hands clasped loosely between your knees. 'I need to feel like I’m going somewhere,' you said. 'Like I belong... like I’m not just… stuck.'
'You’re not stuck.'
'It feels like it.'
She turned to you then, eyes searching. 'You could stay. We could figure it out together.'
The we almost broke you. You looked down instead.
'I think I need to do this on my own.'
She went quiet.
'…And what about me?' She asked, softer now.
That hurt more than anything else she’d said.
'You’ll be okay,' you answered, even though it felt like a lie. 'You always are.'
'That’s not the point.'
'I know.'
'Then what is the point?' She pressed, voice wavering now. 'Because right now it just feels like you’re leaving and I don’t get a say in it.'
'You don’t.' You said, before you could stop yourself.
The words hung there. Sharp. Final.
You exhaled, softer this time. 'I’m sorry.'
Daniela blinked rapidly, looking away. 'Yeah. Me too.'
She let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. 'Yeah?'
You smiled faintly. Then, after a moment— 'I’ll write.'
She looked back at you. 'You better.'
'I mean it.'
'So do I.'
Another pause.
'…You’ll call too?' She asked.
'If and when I can.'
She nodded, like she was committing that to memory. 'Okay.'
When she stood to leave, neither of you moved right away. Like if you just… stayed still long enough, maybe time would do the same. But it didn’t. It never does.
Daniela stepped closer first and hugged you. Tight. You hesitated for half a second—then hugged her back just as tightly.
It wasn’t dramatic. No big declarations. No confessions. Just something quiet and aching and unfinished.
'Be safe.' She murmured against your shoulder.
'I will.'
'Promise me.'
'…I promise.'
She pulled back, just enough to look at you. Like she was trying to memorise your face. Then she nodded once, stepped away, and left.
The next morning, you were gone. And everything after that—letters, distance, six years of becoming someone new—started there.
---
Time doesn’t pass all at once. It comes in fragments. In things you hold onto. In things you don’t get to finish.
The first few weeks are the hardest. Everything is loud. Structured. Demanding in a way nothing has ever been before. There’s no space to drift, no room to hesitate. Every second is accounted for. Every mistake is noticed.
It’s exactly what you thought you needed. It’s also… a lot.
You don’t call Daniela right away. Not because you don’t want to—but because you don’t know how to explain any of it yet.
How do you put this into words? How do you tell her that you’re exhausted in a way that sleep doesn’t fix, that your body aches constantly, that your mind is trying to keep up with something that doesn’t slow down?
So instead, you write.
Letter #1 (unsent)
Dani,
I don’t know if I made the right choice.
Everyone here seems like they’ve wanted this forever. Like they belong. I feel like I’m pretending and no one’s called me out on it yet.
I keep thinking about your room. How quiet it was. How easy everything felt there.
I miss that. I miss you.
I haven’t sent this because I don’t want you to worry. Which is stupid, because you’d probably say I should’ve just called.
You’d be right.
I just don’t know what I’d say out loud.
— Y/N
You fold it. Keep it. It never gets sent.
The first time you do call her, it’s rushed. You’re standing outside, the air sharp, your time limited.
The phone rings once. Twice.
'Hello?'
Her voice hits you like something familiar you didn’t realise you were starving for.
'Hey.'
There’s a pause.
'Oh my god—hi.' It comes out breathless. Relieved. 'Are you okay?'
'Yeah. Yeah, I’m—' You glance over your shoulder. 'I’m good.'
'You sound tired.'
'I am tired.'
She laughs softly at that, like it’s expected. 'Yeah… I figured.'
There’s so much she wants to ask—you can hear it in the way she hesitates.
'So… what’s it like?' She asks instead.
You open your mouth. Close it again.
'It’s… a lot.' You settle on.
'Good a lot or bad a lot?'
'…Both.'
'Yeah,' she murmurs. 'That sounds like you.'
You smile a little at that. There’s comfort in being known like that. Even from miles away.
'I’ve been dancing more,' she adds quickly, like she wants to fill the space. 'Like, a lot more. I’m thinking about auditioning for something bigger.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah. It’s stupid, probably, but—'
'It’s not stupid.'
She goes quiet for a second.
'…You always say that.'
'Because it’s true.'
Another pause. Then— 'Hey, time!'
A voice calls out sharply from somewhere behind you. Your chest tightens instantly.
'I have to go.' You say, too quickly.
'Wait—already?'
'Yeah, I—sorry.'
'No, it’s okay, I just—'
'I’ll call again.' You promise, even though you don’t know when that’ll be.
'…Okay,' she says, softer now. 'Be safe, yeah?'
'Always.'
The line clicks. Too soon.
That becomes a pattern. Calls that start warm and end abruptly. Conversations cut in half. Things left unsaid because there’s never quite enough time.
Months pass. Then a year. Then more.
You write more letters than you send. Some are short. Some ramble. Some don’t make sense even to you. You keep all of them. Tucked away. Folded. Hidden between things that matter.
Letter #17 (unsent)
Dani,
Something happened today and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m okay. Just—before you panic, I’m fine.
But I saw something I don’t think I’ll ever unsee.
And the weirdest part is… everything kept going after. Like it didn’t matter. Like it was just another thing to move past.
I don’t know how to explain that without sounding like I’m losing it. I think about telling you everything sometimes. Just dumping it all out and letting you make sense of it. But I don’t want to put that on you.
You deserve lighter things than this.
I hope you’re still dancing.
I hope you’re happy.
— Y/N
You stare at that one longer than the others. Then fold it carefully. Like it deserves more care than it got.
Meanwhile—Daniela keeps every letter you do send.
Her life is changing too. Faster than she expected. Bigger. She moves, leaves Atlanta and finds herself in rooms she used to dream about, surrounded by people who feel just as determined, just as hungry as she is.
It’s exciting. It’s overwhelming. And through all of it—There’s you. Her letters are different. Messier. Lighter. Full of things she doesn’t want you to miss.
From Daniela (kept, folded neatly in a drawer)
Y/N,
You would HATE this choreography. Like actually hate it. There’s this one move where you have to spin and drop and I thought of you immediately falling over.
I tried to teach someone else and realised I’ve been spoiled by you being bad at it. No one else is as entertaining.
Also I saw a dog today that looked exactly like the one we used to draw with chalk??? Do you remember that?
I miss you.
Call me when you can.
— Dani
She reads them more than she’d admit. Late at night. In between schedules. On planes. In quiet moments where everything else feels too loud.
She keeps them in a drawer beside her bed. Neatly stacked. Like something important. Because they are.
Another call. This one worse.
You answer, already breathless. 'Hey—'
'Hi! Wait, are you—running?'
'Kind of—' you huff, ducking into a quieter space. 'I don’t have long.'
'That’s okay,' she says quickly. 'I just wanted to hear your voice.'
That lands somewhere deep. 'Yeah.'
There’s a pause. Before — 'I got in.' She blurts out.
You blink. 'Got into what?'
'The program I told you about.'
Your chest tightens—but this time, not in a bad way. 'Dani—that’s huge.'
'I know, I just—' she laughs, breath shaky. 'I wanted to tell you first.'
'You deserve it,' you say immediately. 'You’ve worked for this.'
'I wish you were here.'
You swallow. 'Me too.'
'Hey! Move!' The voice this time is closer. Sharper.
You close your eyes briefly. 'I have to go.'
Again. Every time.
'…Yeah,' she says, quieter now. 'Okay.'
'I’ll write.'
'You better.'
'I mean it.'
'I know.'
The line ends. And this time, you don’t move right away.
Years pass like that. In pieces. In letters sent. In letters kept. In words spoken too quickly and feelings that never quite get the time they need.
And somewhere along the way, you both become different people. Stronger. Harder, in some ways. Softer, in others. Carrying things you don’t fully share.
But still, when your name lights up her phone, she answers on the first ring. Every time.
And when her letters arrive, you read them more than once. Every time. Because no matter how much time passes, some things never really leave.
---
Six years doesn’t feel real until you’re standing in your childhood street again. It’s smaller than you remember. Quieter, too.
The houses haven’t changed—the same driveways, the same fences, the same uneven pavement you used to race your bike over—but everything feels… distant. Like you’re looking at it through glass instead of standing inside it.
You pause at the end of the street for a second longer than necessary. Just taking it in. Then you keep walking.
Your parents’ front door opens before you even knock. Your mom gets there first. She doesn’t hesitate—just pulls you straight into a hug, tight and immediate, like she’s been holding it in for six years.
'You’re home.' She says, voice already breaking.
'I’m home.' You echo.
Your dad’s right behind her, hand firm on your shoulder, pride written all over his face in that quiet way he’s always had. You let them hold you for a moment. Just a moment.
Because even though this is home—your home—there’s somewhere else your feet are already trying to take you.
You don’t stay long. You try. You really do. You sit, you talk, you answer their questions—How was it? Are you okay? Are you staying?—but your attention drifts. Your responses come out shorter than you mean them to.
Because your mind is already three houses down. Always has been.
'I’m just gonna—go see Dani.' You say, standing a little too quickly.
Your mom smiles softly, like she expected that. 'Of course you are.'
The walk feels longer this time. Or maybe it’s just heavier. Every step carries six years of things you didn’t say. Calls that ended too soon. Letters that never made it out of your bag.
You stop outside her house. Same as always. Same porch. Same window you used to throw pebbles at when she wasn’t answering her phone.
For a second, it almost feels like nothing’s changed. Like she might open the door any second, roll her eyes, and go— 'You could’ve just texted.'
You knock. It’s not Daniela who answers. It’s her mom. And for a split second, your brain doesn’t catch up.
'—Oh,' she says, surprised—but then her face softens immediately. 'Oh my goodness… look at you.'
You straighten slightly without meaning to. 'Hi.' You manage.
She steps forward, pulling you into a hug almost as tight as your mom’s. 'You’re back.' She murmurs.
'Yeah.'
She pulls back, holding you at arm’s length, looking at you properly now. And you can see it—the moment she realises how much you’ve changed. Not just older. Something else. Something quieter. Heavier.
'You’ve grown up.' She says gently.
You huff a faint breath. 'I had to.'
There’s a flicker of something in her eyes at that—but she doesn’t push. Instead, she glances over her shoulder, like she expects someone else to be there.
'She’s not here, sweetheart.'
Your chest tightens. '…What?'
'Daniela,' she clarifies softly. 'She moved. A while ago now.'
You blink, trying to process that. 'Moved where?'
'To LA. For her program—well, its not just a program anymore.' There’s pride in her voice now. 'She’s doing really well.'
LA. Across the country. You knew she’d gotten in. You knew things were moving for her. You just… didn’t realise how far.
'Oh.' You say, because it’s the only thing you can manage.
'She talks about you, you know,' her mum adds, like she’s trying to soften the blow. 'All the time.'
That lands somewhere deep. 'She does?'
'Of course.' She smiles. 'She kept all your letters.'
You swallow. 'I—' You stop yourself. 'That’s good.'
There’s a pause.
'You should call her.' She says gently.
'Yeah,' you nod. 'Yeah, I will.'
The walk back feels different. Heavier. Quieter. Like something you thought you were coming home to has shifted just out of reach.
You don’t even sit down when you get back. You go straight to your room. It’s almost exactly how you left it. Same bed. Same desk. Same stupid dent in the wall from when you threw a shoe at it junior year.
Time paused here. Except for you. Except for her.
You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in your hands. Staring at her name. Your thumb hovers over it longer than it should. Because suddenly, it feels bigger than a call. Six years reduced to a ringing tone.
You press it anyway. It rings once. Twice. Three times—
'Hello?'
Her voice. It hasn’t changed. Not really. Still bright. Still familiar. Still her.
You don’t speak right away.
'Hello?' She tries again, a little more uncertain this time.
'…Hey.'
There’s a pause. Then— '...No way.'
Your chest tightens.
'Hey, Daniela,' you say quietly. 'I’m home.'
Silence.
A sharp inhale on the other end.
'Wait—what?' She breathes. 'You’re—are you serious?'
'Yeah. I just got back now.'
'You didn’t tell me?' She blurts out.
'I didn’t—' You let out a breath. 'I wanted to just… get here first.'
'Oh my god,' she laughs, but it’s shaky. Overwhelmed. 'Oh my god.'
You can picture her. Exactly. Pacing. Hand in her hair. Eyes wide.
'You’re home.' She says again, like she’s trying to make it real.
'Yeah.'
'Did you—did you stop by? Did you go to my house?'
'I did.'
'And—' She stops. 'My mom told you.'
'Yeah.'
'I’m sorry,' she says immediately. 'I should’ve—I thought you knew it was in LA, I just assumed—'
'It’s okay.'
It is. It just… isn’t, at the same time.
'I would’ve come back,' she adds quickly. 'If I knew you were coming home, I would’ve—'
'Dani,' you cut in gently. 'It’s okay.'
She goes quiet.
'…Are you okay?' She asks then, softer. Careful.
You look around your room. At the pieces of a life that don’t quite fit you anymore.
'I don’t know yet.' You admit.
That honesty hangs there. Real and unfiltered.
'…Yeah,' she murmurs. 'I get that.'
Of course she does. She always does.
There’s a pause. Not uncomfortable. Just… full.
'You sound different.' She says after a moment.
You huff a small breath. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah, you sound older.'
You glance down at your hands. 'Yeah.'
'I mean—it makes sense,' she adds quickly. 'It’s just… weird. In a good way. I think.'
You smile faintly. 'You sound the same.'
'Wow. Rude.'
You let out a quiet laugh. There it is. That ease. Still there. Just buried under everything else.
Another pause. Then— 'I want to see you.'
It comes out before you can think about it. Immediate. Certain. She doesn’t hesitate.
'Then come.'
You blink. 'What?'
'Come to LA.'
Just like that. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
'I mean it,' she continues. 'Come visit. Stay for a bit. You can see everything, meet everyone—'
'I was going to say that.' You interrupt, a little breathless now.
She pauses. 'What?'
'I was going to say I’ll come visit.'
She laughs. Not small. Not controlled. Full. Bright. Disbelieving.
'Of course you were,' she says. 'Still in sync, huh?'
'Something like that.'
Your grip on the phone tightens slightly. 'I don’t really… have anything keeping me here right now,' you admit. 'I just got back and it already feels like—'
'Like what?'
You search for the word. '…Like I’m waiting for something.'
She doesn’t answer right away. Then, softly— 'Then don’t wait.'
That lands. Straight in your chest.
'I’ll come.' You say more certain this time. 'I’ll book it tonight.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah.'
Her smile is audible. 'Okay,' she says, quieter now—but warmer than anything else. 'Okay.'
And for the first time since you stepped back onto this street— Something clicks. Not fully. Not perfectly. But enough.
Because maybe home isn’t a place you came back to. Maybe it’s something— someone— you’re still moving toward.
---
By the next morning, you’re already at the airport. It feels too fast. Too soon. Like your life has skipped a few steps and you’re just… keeping up.
Your bag is light—years of your life reduced to something you can carry over your shoulder. Your phone is heavier. Because she’s in it now.
you: boarding now
You stare at the message for a second before sending it. It goes through instantly. Three dots appear almost immediately.
Dani: already??? you move fast
You huff a quiet breath through your nose.
you: if i didn’t i’d probably talk myself out of it
A pause. Then—
Dani: …yeah. thats fair.
Another message follows right after.
Dani: text me when you land. actually no—text me everything. i want updates
You shake your head slightly, a small smile pulling at your mouth.
you: yes ma’am
Dani: don’t call me that
you: noted. will continue doing it anyway
Dani: i hate you
you: no you don’t
Dani: …no i don’t
The flight is long. Too long to sleep properly. Too short to process everything. You spend most of it staring out the window, watching the world stretch and shift beneath you, wondering when exactly your life started moving this fast. Wondering when you decided to let it.
When you land, your phone buzzes before you even switch it off airplane mode.
Dani: are you alive
You almost laugh.
you: just landed
The reply is instant.
Dani: okay breathe. don’t disappear. i’m tracking you mentally
you: that’s not concerning at all
Dani: i haven’t seen you in SIX YEARS let me be dramatic
You don’t argue with that. Because she’s right.
you: getting my luggage
Dani: i’m here
You pause mid-step. Your chest tightens—sharp and sudden.
you: already?
Dani: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes
Of course she has.
The baggage claim feels too loud. Too busy. People moving in every direction, voices overlapping, announcements echoing overhead. And you’re just… standing there. Waiting. Watching bags circle that aren’t yours. Heart beating a little too fast.
Then your phone buzzes again.
Dani: where are you
You glance up. Scan the crowd.
you: baggage claim 4
You don’t even finish locking your phone before you see her. It doesn’t hit you all at once. It’s slower than that. A recognition that builds. Because she’s different.
Older, obviously. That’s expected. But it’s more than that. She’s… settled into herself in a way you don’t remember. Confident. Grounded. Like she knows exactly where she stands in the world.
Her hair—long, dark, curly—falls naturally around her shoulders, fuller than you remember, framing her face in a way that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly.
She’s scanning the crowd. Then her eyes land on you. And everything stops. For a second, neither of you move. Like your brains are still catching up to what you’re seeing.
Six years. Reduced to this one moment. Then something in you just goes. No thought. No hesitation. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, weaving through people, your focus locked entirely on her.
She does the same. And then—You’re there. The impact of the hug is immediate. Solid. Real. Her arms wrap around you tight—tighter than you expected, like she’s making up for every second she didn’t get to do this.
You don’t hesitate this time. You hug her back just as hard. And for a moment, everything else disappears. No airport. No noise. No distance. Just this. Her. Warm and familiar.
She pulls back first—but not far. Just enough to look at you. Really look at you.
'Hi.' She breathes, like she’s still not fully convinced you’re real.
'Hi.'
Her hands are still on your arms, like she doesn’t quite want to let go. 'You’re actually here.'
'Yeah.'
She shakes her head slightly, laughing under her breath. 'That’s insane.'
'You’re insane.'
'True.'
There’s a moment. Then her eyes narrow slightly—taking you in.
'You look…' She tilts her head. 'Different.'
'Good different or—'
'Shut up,' she cuts in immediately. 'Obviously good.'
You huff a small breath. 'You look—' You stop, because suddenly the words feel heavier than they should. 'You look beautiful.'
It slips out quieter than you expected. Honest. Unfiltered.
Her expression flickers—just for a second. Something soft. Something caught off guard. Then she shoves you. Not hard. Just enough to break the moment.
'Okay,' she mutters, grabbing your suitcase handle before you can react. 'Don’t start.'
You blink, thrown slightly off balance—but there’s a faint smile tugging at your mouth. 'Don’t start what?'
'That,' she says vaguely, already turning, already pulling your suitcase along with her. 'We’re not doing that right now.'
You fall into step beside her. 'Doing what?'
'Complimenting me like you’ve been gone for six years and suddenly have feelings.'
You almost trip over your own feet. 'I was just—'
'Mm-hm.'
'I was being nice.'
'Mm-hm.'
You glance at her. She’s hiding a smile.
'Come on,' she says, nodding toward the exit. 'Let’s get out of here.'
The walk to her car is easy. Too easy. Like your body remembers how to be around her before your brain does.
She talks the whole time. Not in a rushed way—just… filling you in. Bits and pieces. LA traffic. Schedules. Complaints about early mornings. Random stories that don’t have proper endings.
You listen. Mostly. Because part of you is still just… watching her. Taking in the way she moves. The way she talks with her hands. The way she’s somehow exactly the same and completely different all at once.
She loads your suitcase into the trunk like it’s nothing. You automatically step in to help.
'I’ve got it.' She says.
'I can—'
'I know you can,' she cuts in, glancing at you. 'Just let me.'
You pause. Then nod. Old habits. New dynamics.
You slide into the passenger seat, shut the door. And for a second— It’s quiet. Just the two of you. No noise. No movement. Just… this. Then she starts the engine.
'And—' she says, like she’s been holding it in, 'I need you to meet everyone.'
You glance at her. 'Everyone?'
'Yeah. The girls.'
'…What girls?'
She glances at you like she’s just realised something. 'Oh—right.' A small laugh. 'I didn’t really explain that, did I?'
'No. You didn’t.'
'Okay, well—' she pulls out of the parking space smoothly, like this is second nature now, 'I’ll explain on the way.'
You lean back slightly, watching her. There’s something almost… excited in her energy now. Like she’s been waiting for this part.
'They’re my group.' She adds.
You frown slightly. 'Group?'
'Yeah.'
Then, casually— 'I’m in a girl group.'
You blink. '…You’re in a what?'
She glances at you again—grinning now. 'A girl group.'
You stare at her. '…Since when?'
'Since a while ago,' she says, like that explains anything. 'I told you about the program, right? It turned into something bigger.'
'That’s—' You shake your head slightly. 'You didn’t say that.'
'I thought you knew.'
'I did not know.'
She laughs. 'Okay, well. Surprise.'
You sit back, processing that. 'You’re in a—like, a proper—'
'Yes,' she cuts in, amused. 'A proper one.'
'And you want me to just—what—walk into that?'
'Yes.'
'Dani—'
'They’re going to love you.'
'You don’t know that.'
'I do.'
You glance at her. She’s completely serious. '…I’ll explain everything when we get to my apartment,' she adds, softer now. 'Okay?'
You hesitate. Then nod. 'Okay.'
The car merges into traffic. The city stretches out around you—bigger, louder, faster than anything you’ve known for the past six years.
And beside you—Daniela drums her fingers lightly against the steering wheel, a small, excited energy buzzing through her. Like she’s bringing two parts of her life together. Finally.
And you—You sit there, watching it all unfold. Realising, slowly that you didn’t just come back home. You stepped into something new entirely. And somehow, it already feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
---
The drive settles into something quieter the closer you get to her place. The city hum fades into the background, replaced by something more… contained. Residential. Calm, in its own way.
You don’t realise you’ve been watching her the whole time until she glances over and catches you.
'What?' She asks, one brow lifting.
'Nothing.'
'That didn’t sound like nothing.'
You shake your head lightly, looking out the window instead. 'Just… taking it in.'
She hums, like she understands more than you said out loud.
Her apartment building is nicer than you expected. Not flashy—just… put together. Clean lines, big windows, the kind of place that feels lived in but intentional. Very her.
She grabs your bag again before you can. 'Dani—'
'Don’t start.' She mutters, already heading toward the entrance.
You let it go. Again.
The second the door to her apartment opens— You feel it. Her. It’s everywhere. It’s not obvious at first glance.
The space is neat, modern, decorated in a way that makes sense for someone living in LA.
But then you start noticing things. Small things. Specific things. There’s a photo on a shelf—slightly tucked back, like it wasn’t meant to be the focus. You and her. You’re younger. Probably fifteen. Sitting on the pavement outside her house, covered in chalk dust, grinning like idiots.
You pause in front of it. '…You kept that?'
From behind you, she shrugs. 'Obviously.'
You glance over your shoulder at her. 'Obviously.' You repeat.
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no bite to it.
There’s more. A hoodie thrown over the back of a chair that you know used to be yours. A chipped mug you recognise instantly. Even the way she’s arranged things—there’s familiarity in it. A quiet thread of your shared past woven into a life you weren’t there for.
Your chest tightens. Not in a bad way. Just… a lot.
'Do you want a drink?' She asks, heading toward the kitchen like she needs something to do with her hands.
'Water’s fine.'
'Of course it is.' She mutters, grabbing a glass anyway.
You huff a quiet breath, leaning lightly against the counter as she fills it. She slides it over. Your fingers brush briefly when you take it. Neither of you comment on it.
You fall into conversation easily after that. Like muscle memory. She tells you things in pieces. About training. About moving. About the girls. Not everything—just enough to give you a shape of it.
You fill in your side the same way. General. Controlled. You notice it when she notices it.
'You don’t talk about it much.' She says at one point, not accusing—just observing.
You shrug lightly, eyes on your glass. 'There’s not much to say.'
She watches you for a second longer than necessary.
'Okay.'
She lets it go. For now.
Her phone buzzes on the counter. She glances at it, then at you. 'They’re on their way.'
Your stomach does something weird at that. 'Already?'
'I told you they’d want to meet you.'
'That doesn’t mean I’m ready for it.'
She grins slightly. 'Too late.'
The first knock comes sooner than you expect. Then another. Then voices. Multiple. Loud.
The door swings open and suddenly—There are people. Girls, all around your age, filtering into the apartment like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Energy fills the space instantly. Bright. Chaotic. Warm.
'Hi—oh my god, hi.'
'Is this—?'
'Wait, this is—'
'Dani’s been talking about you for years.'
You barely have time to process one voice before another takes its place.
Daniela steps in smoothly, grounding it. 'Guys—' she laughs, lightly pushing one of them back. 'Give her a second, oh my god.'
She turns to you, gesturing between you and them. 'This is—everyone.' She says, which is not helpful at all.
You huff a quiet breath. 'Good introduction.'
'Shut up.'
She does it properly after that. Names. One by one. Faces you try to match quickly. They’re all different—but they all have that same underlying confidence. That same presence.
It clicks. These aren’t just friends.
'And this,' Daniela adds, like it’s the final piece, 'is my group.'
There’s a small pause. 'Katseye.'
You blink. '…Like the crystals?'
There’s a beat. Then a few of them laugh.
'Yes,' Sophia says. 'Exactly like the crystals.'
You nod slowly. 'Cool.'
You end up sitting on the couch, surrounded before you even realise it’s happening. Questions come quickly—but not in an overwhelming way. Curious. Interested. Genuine.
'So you just got back?'
'After six years?'
'What was it like?'
'Did you always know you wanted to do that?'
You answer what you can. Deflect what you don’t want to get into. They don’t push. Not really.
You return the questions too. Because you don’t understand this world at all.
'So you’re—famous?'
That gets a laugh.
'Kind of.' Lara says.
'Kind of?' You repeat.
'It’s weird,' Manon adds. 'You don’t really feel it until you do.'
You nod slowly. 'That sounds… complicated.'
'It is.'
You glance at Daniela. She’s watching you. Not the conversation. You. Like she’s checking—constantly—if you’re okay.
Time passes quickly. Too quickly. The room fills with overlapping conversations, laughter, small moments you don’t fully catch but still feel part of.
It’s… easy. Easier than you expected.
Then Daniela claps her hands once. 'Okay.'
Everyone pauses.
'I love you all,' she says, already ushering them up, 'but you need to go.'
Immediate protests.
'What?'
'Already?'
'We just got here!'
'I haven’t even—'
'Out.' She insists, pushing them gently toward the door.
You blink, caught off guard. 'Dani—'
'I haven’t seen her in six years.' She shoots back, like that explains everything.
It kind of does.
There’s a chorus of dramatic sighs, teasing comments, but they listen. One by one, they filter out.
'Nice meeting you—'
'Don’t be a stranger—'
'We’re stealing you next time—'
The door finally shuts. Silence. It settles slower this time. Comfortable. Real.
Daniela leans back against the door, exhaling. 'Sorry,' she says. 'They’re a lot.'
'They’re nice.' You mean it.
She studies you for a second. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah.'
There’s a pause.
Something quieter now. More focused. You shift slightly, reaching down for your bag.
She watches you, curious. 'What are you—'
You pull it open. Hesitate. Just for a second. Then, you take them out. A small stack. Folded. Worn at the edges. Carefully kept.
Her expression changes immediately. '…What’s that?'
You don’t answer right away. You just… hold them out. Toward her.
'I wrote these,' you say finally. 'Over there.'
She doesn’t take them immediately. Just looks at them. Then at you. '…You never sent them.'
'No.'
'Why?'
You shrug lightly. 'Didn’t know how.' That’s the simplest version of the truth.
She steps forward slowly. Takes them from your hands like they might fall apart. Her fingers brush yours again. This time, neither of you pulls away immediately. She looks down at the stack. At the years you never gave her.
'…Can I read them?'
You nod. 'Yeah.'
She doesn’t sit. Doesn’t move. She just… stands there. Opens the first one carefully.
You don’t watch her read. You can’t. Instead, you lean back slightly against the counter, arms crossing loosely, eyes fixed somewhere just past her shoulder.
The room is quiet. Except for the soft sound of paper unfolding. Her breathing shifts. Subtle. But you notice.
Time stretches. You don’t know how long she stands there reading. One letter. Then another. Then another. When she finally looks up, her eyes are different. Softer. Fuller. Like she’s seeing something she didn’t before.
'You went through all of that.' She says quietly.
It’s not a question. You don’t answer it like one.
'Yeah.'
She swallows. Tight. '…And you didn’t tell me.'
There’s no accusation in it. Just… something else. Something heavier.
'I didn’t want to put it on you.' You admit.
Her grip tightens slightly on the letters. 'I would’ve taken it.' She says.
You believe her. That’s the problem. There's a pause, then she steps closer. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just… certain.
'You don’t have to do that anymore.' She says softly.
You blink. 'Do what?'
'Carry everything by yourself.'
That lands. Harder than you expect.
You let out a slow breath. '…I don’t know how not to.'
She nods. Like she expected that. 'Then we figure it out.' She says.
Simple. Steady. And for the first time since you got back—Since before that, even—You feel something shift. Not fixed. Not healed. But, less alone.
---
The TV is playing, but neither of you are really watching it anymore.
Some over-the-top reality show fills the room—raised voices, dramatic music, someone storming out over something ridiculous—but it’s just noise. Background. Something to keep the silence from pressing too hard.
You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch at first. A safe distance. A necessary distance.
Daniela watches you instead of the screen. Not in the obvious way—not staring. But her eyes keep drifting back. Taking you in piece by piece like she’s trying to solve something.
Six years. Six years and you’re right here, and somehow she still feels like she’s talking to someone she only half knows now.
'You’re quieter.' She says eventually.
It’s gentle. Observational. But it lands heavier than anything else she could’ve said.
You let out a small breath through your nose, eyes still on the TV. 'Yeah.'
'That’s not all.' She presses softly.
You don’t answer this time. Your jaw tightens just slightly—barely noticeable, but she catches it. She always did.
'You don’t fidget anymore,' she adds. 'You used to. All the time. Your hands were always doing something.'
You glance down at your hands resting still in your lap. She’s right.
'I got told to stop,' you say after a moment. 'Didn’t look… professional.'
Daniela’s expression shifts. Something about that doesn’t sit right with her.
'And you listen like…' she trails off, trying to find the words. 'Like you’re waiting for something bad to happen.'
That one hits. You huff out a quiet, humourless laugh. 'That one’s not something you get told to do.'
Silence stretches between you again—but it’s different now. Tighter. Closer to something breaking.
She shifts toward you slightly. 'Talk to me,' she says, softer this time. 'Please.'
There’s no pressure in it. No demand. Just… her. And that makes it worse.
You shake your head instinctively. 'It’s not—'
'It is,' she cuts in gently. 'You think I can’t tell?'
You swallow. Your eyes flick to hers for just a second—and that’s all it takes.
She sees it. Everything you’ve been holding back, sitting just beneath the surface.
'…I don’t even know where to start.' You admit quietly.
'Anywhere.' She says.
So you do. Not all at once. Not in some big, dramatic spill. It comes out in pieces. Slow. Uneven. Careful.
'There were nights…' you start, voice already tightening, 'where I didn’t sleep. Not because I couldn’t—because I didn’t want to.'
Daniela doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t move.
'I kept thinking if I fell asleep, something would happen. Or I’d miss something. Or—' you stop, exhaling shakily. 'Or I’d dream about it again.'
Her chest tightens.
You stare at a fixed point somewhere past the TV. 'There were alarms. Sometimes real, sometimes drills. You don’t know which is worse after a while.' A small, dry laugh. 'Your body stops caring. It just reacts.'
Your fingers twitch slightly now, like the memory is trying to pull you back into it.
'I had panic attacks,' you admit, quieter. 'A lot of them.'
That one feels heavier to say out loud than anything else so far.
'Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Just…' you gesture vaguely, frustrated. 'Everything at once.'
Daniela’s hand inches closer on the couch cushion between you. Not touching. Not yet.
'I used to think about home,' you continue. 'All the time. Like—constantly. Your house. My room. That stupid streetlight that flickered outside my window.'
A faint smile ghosts across your lips for a second. 'Thought if I could just get back, everything would… reset.'
Your voice cracks slightly on the last word. 'But it doesn’t,' you add quickly, almost cutting yourself off. 'It doesn’t work like that.'
Daniela finally reaches out. Just barely—her fingers brushing against yours. Not grabbing. Not holding. Just there.
You don’t pull away.
'I wanted to leave,' you admit, barely above a whisper. 'So many times.'
Her throat tightens.
'But I couldn’t.' Your jaw sets slightly. 'People were relying on me. My unit, my country—whatever you want to call it. I signed up for it. I couldn’t just… walk away because it got hard.'
Daniela’s fingers curl around yours properly now. Firm. Grounding.
'You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.' She says softly.
You shake your head. 'I wasn’t alone,' you say. 'Not technically. But it felt like it.'
That one hangs in the air. Heavy. Honest. Final.
The TV continues blaring in the background, completely disconnected from the moment unfolding on the couch.
You inhale slowly, like you’ve just run a marathon. Then exhale. And just like that—you pull yourself back. It’s subtle, but Daniela feels it immediately.
The shift. The walls sliding back into place. So you change the subject. Abruptly.
'Play me something.' You say, nodding toward her phone on the table.
She blinks. 'What?'
'Your music,' you clarify. 'You said you’d show me.'
She hesitates for half a second—just long enough to realise what you’re doing.
An escape. But she lets you have it.
'…okay.' She says gently.
She reaches for her phone, scrolling for a moment before tapping on a track. The room fills with music.
'My Way.'
It’s different from what you expected. There’s something steady about it. Confident. Grounded. You lean back into the couch, listening properly.
Not analysing. Not overthinking. Just… listening.
Daniela watches you the entire time. Your shoulders drop slightly as the song goes on. Your breathing evens out. Something in your expression softens—just a little. When it ends, there’s a quiet beat.
'…I like that one.' You say.
She smiles faintly. 'Yeah?'
You nod. 'It feels…' you search for the word. 'Certain.'
She tilts her head. 'Certain?'
'Like it knows where it’s going,' you explain. 'Doesn’t second guess itself.'
A pause. 'I think I forgot what that feels like.'
Daniela’s chest aches at that. 'You’ll find it again.' She says softly.
You glance at her. There’s something in your expression now—something open. Vulnerable in a different way.
'You always were good at that.' You murmur.
'At what?'
'Making things sound possible.'
Her breath catches slightly. The moment lingers. Stretches. Shifts into something quieter. Warmer. Closer.
At some point, you’ve both moved without realising. The distance between you is gone now. Your shoulders brush. Then stay.
The TV keeps playing. Neither of you notice what show it is anymore. You glance at her again. This time, you don’t look away as quickly.
'I missed you.' You say.
Simple. Honest. Too honest.
Daniela’s breath stutters. 'I missed you too.' She replies immediately.
You nod slowly, like you expected that. Like it still hits anyway.
There’s something sitting on the tip of your tongue now. Something bigger. Heavier. Six years of it. You can feel it rising—feel the words forming before you can stop them.
'I—' You stop.
Daniela leans in slightly. 'What?'
Your eyes flick down. Then back up.
Your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now. Not fear. Not memories. Something softer. More dangerous.
'I was gonna ask…' you pivot, the words shifting at the last second. 'If you’re—um… seeing anyone.'
Daniela blinks. It takes her a second to process the switch. Then she shakes her head.
'No,' she says. 'It’s… hard. With everything.'
She gestures vaguely—career, schedules, expectations. 'People either don’t get it or…' she shrugs. 'It just doesn’t work.'
You nod slowly. 'Yeah.'
A small pause. 'Figures.'
She studies you. 'You?'
You shake your head. 'No.'
Not a lie. Just not the full truth either. There’s a quiet understanding that settles between you. Unspoken. Unfinished.
The TV volume dips as another episode rolls in automatically. At some point, Daniela shifts again—this time more intentionally. She leans into you. Carefully. Giving you time to pull away if you want.
You don’t. Your body tenses for half a second—instinct—but then… you let yourself relax. Your shoulder presses properly against hers. Her head rests lightly against you. It’s… easy.
Easier than it should be. Easier than anything has felt in a long time.
'You okay?' She murmurs.
'Yeah.' You say quietly.
And this time, you mean it.
Hours pass without either of you noticing. The show changes three times. The city outside quiets. Your conversation fades in and out—random topics, old memories, things you missed, things that don’t matter but somehow do.
At some point, your head tilts. Then rests gently against hers. Neither of you comment on it. Neither of you move away. And eventually, without meaning to, you fall asleep. Still there. Still close. Still unfinished.
---
The first few days pass in a strange, quiet blur. Not uncomfortable. Just… unfamiliar.
Daniela comes and goes. Mornings are usually soft—half-asleep conversations in the kitchen, her hair still messy, yours barely better. She’ll lean against the counter with a protein bar in hand, scrolling through something on her phone while you sit across from her with coffee you don’t really need.
'You can come today, you know,' she says almost every time, casual but hopeful. 'It’s just rehearsals.'
You always shake your head. 'Next time.' You tell her.
It’s not that you don’t want to. It’s that you don’t know how to exist in her world yet. So instead, you explore.
Los Angeles is… a lot. Loud in a different way than what you’re used to. Not alarms. Not orders. Just life.
Cars passing constantly. Music leaking out of open shop doors. People talking, laughing, arguing. Street vendors calling out. The smell of food everywhere.
You walk more than you need to. Hands in your pockets, eyes taking everything in.
You stop at random places—coffee shops, small stores, a bookstore you spend nearly an hour in without buying anything. You sit in a park at one point, watching people pass by, wondering how everyone seems to just… belong here.
It’s strange. You spent years in a place where every step had purpose. Now you have nothing but time and no idea what to do with it. And somehow, that feels harder.
By the time you get back to Daniela’s apartment each evening, she’s usually already there. Or arriving not long after you. There’s a rhythm starting to form.
Dinner together. TV on. Conversations that bounce between serious and stupid. It’s easy. Too easy. And that’s what makes it feel fragile.
A few nights in, the question comes. You should’ve expected it. You almost did.
Daniela’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing you this time instead of leaning into your side. The TV is on, muted. Neither of you are paying attention to it.
She’s been quieter tonight. Thinking. You can tell.
'So…' she starts, picking at the sleeve of her hoodie. 'What are you gonna do?'
You glance at her. 'About?'
'Now,' she says. 'Like… your future.'
Your stomach tightens slightly. You lean back into the couch, exhaling slowly. 'I don’t know.' You admit.
It’s the truth. The most honest answer you’ve given anyone in a long time.
'I haven’t really… figured that out yet.'
Daniela nods, but it’s small. Unsatisfied. There’s a pause.
'Don’t go back.'
It comes out quick. Too quick.
Your eyes snap to hers. '…what?'
'Don’t go back.' She repeats, softer this time—but firmer.
You stare at her. You’re not shocked. Not really. This conversation feels familiar. Different setting. Same tension.
'You don’t get to just—' you shake your head slightly, a small, disbelieving breath leaving you. 'Say that and not explain why.'
She swallows. Her gaze drops for a second, then comes back to you. 'I just—' She starts, then stops.
Her hands fidget now. There it is. The Daniela you remember.
'I don’t want you to go back there.' She says instead.
'That’s not a reason.' You reply quietly.
Her jaw tightens. 'I know.'
'Then tell me the real one.'
The air shifts. You can feel it. Whatever she’s been holding in—it’s right there. On the edge.
'I already lost you once.' She says.
Your chest tightens. 'You didn’t—'
'I did,' she cuts in, sharper than she means to. Then softer, 'It felt like I did.'
You go quiet. She looks at you fully now. Eyes glassy. Vulnerable in a way she hasn’t been since you got here.
'When you left…' her voice wavers slightly, 'you sat on your bed and told me it was what you wanted, and I—I tried to be okay with it. I tried to support you.'
You remember it. Every second.
'I told myself it was temporary,' she continues. 'That you’d come back and everything would just… go back to normal.'
A small, broken laugh escapes her. 'That was stupid.'
You shake your head. 'It wasn’t—'
'It was,' she insists. 'Because nothing about that was normal.'
Silence falls again. Heavy.
'You wrote me letters,' she says, quieter now. 'Called when you could. And I held onto all of it like it was enough.'
Your throat tightens.
'But it wasn’t,' she whispers. 'I missed you in a way that didn’t feel like just… missing a friend.'
That lands. Hard. You don’t breathe.
Daniela’s voice breaks slightly now. 'And I didn’t say anything. Because you were out there, doing something that mattered, and I didn’t want to make it about me.'
Your heart is pounding. Loud and unsteady.
'But it broke me,' she admits. 'Saying goodbye to you like that.'
Your chest aches.
'And I don’t think I can do it again.'
There it is. Everything is laid out between you. Raw, unfiltered and real. She looks at you like she’s bracing for something. Rejection. Silence. Anything.
Instead—you exhale. A shaky, almost disbelieving sound. 'You picked a hell of a time to tell me that.'
She blinks. 'What?'
You run a hand over your face, laughing softly—but there’s no humour in it. 'Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?'
Her breath catches.
You look at her properly now. No walls. No deflection.
'High school,' you say. 'That’s when it started.'
Her eyes widen slightly.
'You had a boyfriend,' you add. 'So I… didn’t say anything.'
'Why didn’t you tell me after?' She asks, voice barely there.
You let out a breath. 'Because then I left,' you say simply. 'And it didn’t feel fair to drop something like that on you and then disappear.'
She stares at you. Trying to process it.
'So we’re just… idiots.' She murmurs.
You huff a small laugh. 'Yeah. Pretty much.'
She moves instantly. It’s quick, like she’s afraid she’ll lose her nerve if she waits any longer. Her hands come up to your face, pulling you toward her. And then she kisses you.
It’s not hesitant. It’s not unsure. It’s everything she didn’t say for six years.
You freeze for half a second—then melt into it. Your hands find her instinctively, pulling her closer like you need to make sure she’s actually real.
She laughs softly against your lips, half breathless, half disbelieving. 'You’re staying.' She says, like she’s deciding it for you.
You pull back just enough to look at her. 'I was already thinking about it.' You admit.
Her expression softens instantly. 'Yeah?'
You nod. 'I don’t… belong there anymore,' you say quietly. 'I just didn’t know where I did belong.'
Her thumb brushes against your cheek. 'You do now.'
Something in your chest settles. For the first time in a long time.
'Yeah,' you murmur. 'I think I do.'
She kisses you again. Softer this time. Slower. Like she’s not trying to catch up on lost time anymore—just be in it.
The days after that feel different. Lighter. But also… real. Because now comes the part no one talks about.
Figuring it out.
You start looking for work. Anything. Everything. You don’t care what it is—you just need something that feels like yours. You apply to places you never thought you would.
Gyms. Security. Local businesses. Even a bookstore you passed on your second day in the city.
Daniela watches you through all of it. Sometimes from the couch while you scroll through listings. Sometimes from the kitchen while you fill out applications.
'You don’t have to rush.' She says one night.
'I do.' You reply.
She tilts her head. 'Why?'
You shrug slightly. 'Because I need to build something here.' You say.
That word doesn’t go unnoticed.
Her lips curve into a small smile. 'Here.' She repeats softly.
You glance at her. Then back at your laptop. But you’re smiling too. It’s not perfect. You’re still figuring things out. Still unlearning habits. Still adjusting to a world that doesn’t run on survival.
But now, you’re not doing it alone. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.
---
A few more days pass, and for the first time since you landed in LA, things start to feel… structured.
Not rigid. Not suffocating. Just… moving.
You’ve got a handful of interviews lined up—nothing glamorous, nothing you ever pictured yourself doing growing up—but it’s something. A start. A way to build a life that isn’t dictated by orders or survival.
Daniela makes a big deal out of it anyway.
'You have options,' she says one morning, leaning against the kitchen counter while you scroll through your emails. 'That’s hot.'
You snort. 'Nothing says attractive like ‘entry-level position, must be available weekends.’'
She grins. 'Hey. Stability is sexy.'
You glance at her over your phone. '…you’re insane.'
'Yeah,' she shrugs. 'But you like me.'
You don’t even hesitate. 'Yeah, I do.'
She beams.
Later that afternoon, you make the call home. It’s… easier than you expected.
Your mom answers on the second ring. 'Hey, baby.'
That alone almost knocks the breath out of you.
You lean back against Daniela’s bedroom wall, staring up at the ceiling. 'Hey, mom.'
You can hear your dad in the background asking who it is. Your mom tells him, and suddenly he’s there too, his voice louder, warmer.
They ask about everything. The flight. Daniela. LA. Your plans. And for once, you don’t dodge the question.
'I think I’m gonna stay here for a bit.' You tell them.
There’s a pause.
Not disappointed. Not confused. Just… processing.
'With Daniela?' Your mom asks gently.
You glance out toward the living room, where Daniela’s laughing at something on TV, completely unaware.
'Yeah.'
Another pause.
'I think that’s a good idea.' Your dad says.
Your chest tightens slightly. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah,' he replies. 'You sound… lighter.'
You swallow. '…I feel lighter.'
And that’s how you know you made the right choice.
That evening, the apartment is full again. Shoes by the door. Laughter echoing off the walls. Takeout containers scattered across the coffee table like none of you have ever heard of plates.
The girls have made themselves at home—like they always do. You’ve gotten used to it quicker than you thought you would.
Manon is sprawled across the couch, dramatically complaining about something while Megan and Lara argue over what to put on the TV. Sophia and Daniela are in the kitchen, debating whether they should’ve ordered more food.
Yoonchae’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, quietly stealing fries from everyone’s containers.
It’s chaos. Warm, familiar chaos.
You’re leaning against the arm of the couch, half listening, half watching. And for once— You’re not on edge.
'So what’s the plan, soldier?' Manon suddenly asks, turning her head to look at you.
You blink. 'Excuse me?'
She grins. 'Future. Career. World domination. What are we thinking?'
You shrug slightly. 'Got a few interviews. Gonna see what sticks.'
Megan nods approvingly. 'As you should.'
'But,' Manon continues, sitting up slightly, eyes lighting up with a very specific kind of idea, 'hear me out—'
Daniela groans immediately from the kitchen. 'Oh no.'
'You join our security team.'
There’s a beat. You stare at her. '…what?'
Manon gestures toward you like she’s just solved world peace. 'Think about it. You’re literally trained for it. We’re constantly travelling. Daniela would get to have you around all the time.'
You huff a small laugh. 'I don’t think it works like that.'
'I’m serious!' She insists. 'It’s perfect.'
You glance toward Daniela—Expecting her to laugh it off. She doesn’t. She’s frozen. Processing. And then—
'Oh my god.'
You blink. 'Dani—'
'That’s actually not a bad idea.'
Your eyebrows shoot up. 'You cannot be serious.'
She’s already moving and grabbing her phone. 'I’m calling Missy.'
'Daniela—'
She’s dialing.
You push yourself off the couch slightly, half laughing, half panicked. 'Daniela, I haven’t even—'
'She’ll know if it’s possible,' Daniela cuts in quickly, pacing now. 'Just let me ask.'
You run a hand over your face.
The girls are watching this unfold like it’s the best entertainment they’ve had all week.
Sophia bites back a smile. Manon looks insufferably proud of herself.
'Hey—yes, hi,' Daniela starts the second the call connects, already slipping into professional mode. 'Sorry, I know it’s late, but I have a question—hypothetically—about security staffing.'
You stare at her. She’s serious. Completely serious. And suddenly— This isn’t just a joke anymore.
The call doesn’t last long. But it’s enough. Enough for Daniela to hang up and turn to you with that look. That look.
'It’s possible.' She says.
Your stomach flips slightly. 'What?'
'She said we’d have to go through proper channels, obviously,' Daniela explains, already walking back toward you. 'Background checks, certifications, interviews—'
'I have those.' You cut in automatically.
She smiles. 'Exactly.'
You blink. Processing. 'You’re not serious.'
'I am.' She says, softer now.
The room has gone quieter. Everyone’s watching. Not in a pressuring way. Just… waiting.
You glance around. At them. At her. At this life that’s slowly, somehow, become yours.
'I already have interviews.' You say, quieter now.
Daniela nods. 'I know.'
'I don’t want to just… drop everything and—'
'You don’t have to,' she says quickly. 'You can do both. See what feels right.'
There’s no pressure in her voice. No expectation. Just… an option. A door you didn’t even know existed.
You exhale slowly. 'Okay.' You say.
Daniela’s eyes widen slightly. 'Okay?'
You nod. 'I’ll… try it. Go through the process. See what happens.'
Manon cheers like she just won something. 'I knew it!' She shouts, pointing at you.
You shake your head, laughing under your breath. 'This is insane.'
'Yeah,' Daniela grins, stepping closer to you. 'But it kind of works, right?'
You look at her. Really look at her.
Six years ago, you left her behind without knowing if you’d ever come back.
Now, you’re standing in her apartment, surrounded by people who somehow feel like home, talking about building a future that keeps you here. With her.
'…yeah,' you admit quietly. 'It kind of does.'
The night winds down slowly after that. More food. More laughter. Less chaos. At some point, the girls start heading out one by one—hugging Daniela, waving at you, already talking about seeing you again soon.
Manon lingers the longest. She nudges your shoulder as she passes. 'Told you it was a good idea.'
You roll your eyes. 'Don’t let it go to your head.'
'Too late.' She grins, then slips out the door.
When it’s just you and Daniela again, the apartment feels quieter. But not empty. Never empty.
She leans against you as you both stand in the middle of the living room, looking around at the aftermath—takeout boxes, blankets, half-finished drinks.
'Big day.' She murmurs.
You huff softly. 'That’s one way to put it.'
There’s a pause.
'Are you sure?' She asks.
It’s quieter now. More vulnerable.
'About staying. About all of this.'
You turn slightly, looking down at her. At the girl you grew up with. The girl you left. The girl you found your way back to.
'I’m sure.' You say.
And you are. Not because everything is figured out. Not because it’s easy. But because for the first time, you know where you want to be.
She smiles. Soft. Relieved. And then she kisses you. Slow. Certain. Like she’s not afraid of losing you anymore.
And this time, you’re not going anywhere.
---
Six months later, everything feels… settled.
Not perfect. Not easy. But yours.
The venue is loud. Not the kind of loud you learned to tune out before—this is different. Brighter. Lighter. Full of energy instead of tension.
Fans line the barricades, voices overlapping into one constant wave of excitement. Phones held high, lights flashing, names being called out all at once.
You stand just off to the side of the exit, eyes scanning automatically. It’s instinct now. Routes. Distances. Movement.
You clock everything without thinking—who’s too close to the barrier, where the nearest clear path is, how long it’ll take to get from door to van.
The door opens behind you. You turn instantly.
Daniela steps out first, still slightly flushed from the performance, hair pulled back but already coming loose in soft curls around her face. Sophia follows close behind, calm as ever, with Lara just behind her, mid-sentence about something that clearly cannot wait.
They’re glowing. Tired, but glowing.
You step forward immediately, slipping into place beside them.
'Hey.' Daniela says under her breath the second she sees you, like the rest of the world isn’t right there.
You don’t smile fully—habit—but something softens.
'Hey.' You reply.
Your hand brushes lightly against the small of her back—not enough to draw attention, just enough to guide.
'Van’s ready,' you murmur. 'Stick close.'
She nods, but her fingers hook briefly into yours as she passes. Quick. Subtle. Gone before anyone could really notice. Except you.
'Which way?' Lara asks, looking between you and the crowd, eyes wide but amused.
You tilt your head slightly. 'Left. Stay behind me.'
Sophia gives you a small, appreciative nod. 'Got it.'
You move first. They follow without question. It’s seamless.
You keep your pace steady—not rushed, not slow—just enough to move them through without drawing unnecessary attention. Your body shifts slightly with every step, always positioning yourself between them and the crowd.
A few fans lean forward, calling their names louder now.
Daniela waves with her free hand, smiling brightly, but she stays exactly where you placed her.
You feel it again. That quiet sense of… rightness. Protecting them like this. Being here.
Halfway to the van, Daniela drifts just a little closer. Not enough to disrupt anything. Just enough.
'You’re very serious right now.' She whispers.
You glance at her briefly. 'I’m working.'
She hums, clearly not convinced. 'You look hot when you’re working.'
You almost trip. Almost.
Your jaw tightens as you look forward again. 'Daniela.'
'What?' She smiles, completely unbothered.
Sophia hears it. Of course she does. She snorts softly under her breath but says nothing. Lara, on the other hand, looks between the two of you like she’s just witnessed something illegal.
'Are you flirting right now?' She whisper shouts.
'No.' You say immediately.
'Yes.' Daniela says at the exact same time.
You reach the van. You open the door first, stepping back just enough to let them in while still keeping watch.
'Go.' You say, nodding toward the seats.
Sophia climbs in smoothly, followed by Lara, who is still side-eyeing you like she has questions she plans to ask later.
Daniela lingers. She pauses right in front of you, just for a second. Just long enough. Her hand reaches up, adjusting your collar slightly—unnecessary, but careful. Soft.
'You’re really good at this.' She says quietly.
Your chest tightens. 'Yeah?'
She nods. 'Yeah. I like having you here.'
There’s something in her voice that cuts through everything else. The noise. The job. The moment. Just her.
You glance around quickly—checking, always checking. Then you lean in just slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice. But enough.
'I’m not going anywhere.' You murmur.
Her smile— It’s soft. Certain. Yours.
'Good.' She whispers.
She finally climbs into the van. You close the door behind her, giving the driver a short nod.
As the vehicle pulls away, Daniela looks out the tinted window. Straight at you. She presses her hand lightly to the glass.
You don’t wave. You don’t need to. You just stand there, watching until the van disappears into the night.
Six months ago, you didn’t know where you belonged.
Summary: You fly home for love and leave with a broken heart—but back in LA, the people who truly care about you are ready to help you piece it back together.
Pairings: Katseye x 7th member / Megan x reader (slow burn)
It already felt cramped on a normal day—clothes half-folded on your chair, random makeup scattered across your desk, a hoodie you swore you’d put away days ago still hanging off your bedpost—but now?
Now it was chaos.
Seven girls. One suitcase. Zero personal space.
And somehow, a speaker blasting early 2000’s music like it was a full-on concert.
'Turn it up!' Daniela yelled from the floor, already halfway through butchering the lyrics to a song she clearly didn’t fully know.
'It’s already loud!' Sophia shot back, trying to concentrate as she neatly folded a pair of jeans with far more precision than anyone else in the room.
You, meanwhile, stood in the middle of it all, toothbrush in one hand, mascara in the other, completely overwhelmed.
But smiling. God, you were smiling so much your cheeks actually hurt.
'This playlist is elite,' you said, swaying slightly as another song you loved came on. 'I don’t care what anyone says—this era of music was unmatched.'
'Unmatched at being embarrassing.' Lara teased, holding up a top and squinting at it like it had personally offended her.
'Lara, be serious. That top is cute.'
'Is it?' She said, turning to Daniela. 'Be honest.'
Daniela glanced up from where she was sitting cross-legged, surrounded by a mountain of your clothes. 'It’s cute… if you’re trying to get broken up with.'
You gasped. 'Okay—rude. I’m literally going to see my girlfriend.'
'Exactly,' Daniela said, tossing it behind her. 'We’re trying to keep it that way.'
You laughed, shaking your head as you finally dropped your toothbrush into your toiletry bag.
On the other side of the room, Manon and Yoonchae had completely taken over your shoe situation.
'Wait, wait—these,' Yoonchae said, holding up a pair of sneakers. 'Airport shoes. Comfortable. Reliable.'
Manon immediately countered, holding up a different pair. 'But these? These say, ‘I just got off a flight and still look amazing.’'
'I can’t believe I’m being judged by my shoes right now.' You muttered.
'You should be,' Manon said. 'Every impression matters.'
You pointed at her. 'You sound like Lara.'
'I'm right.' Lara chimed in without looking up.
Meanwhile, Sophia was the only one actually being productive. She had claimed the suitcase as her territory and was methodically placing everything inside, somehow making it all fit without it looking like a disaster.
'I don’t understand how you do that.' You said, watching her in awe.
'It’s called being organised,' she replied simply, smoothing out a shirt before placing it down. 'You should try it sometime.'
'I refuse.'
Through all of it — the noise, the music, the arguing, the laughter— Megan sat on your bed.
Not doing much. Just… there.
Leaning back slightly, one hand resting behind her, the other absently playing with the edge of your blanket as she watched everything unfold.
And every now and then, her eyes drifted back to you.
'You look happy.' She said suddenly.
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t meant for everyone. But you heard it.
You turned toward her, still holding a small makeup pouch. 'I am happy.' Your voice softened without you meaning it to. 'I mean… I haven’t seen her in so long.'
That got everyone’s attention, at least a little.
Daniela glanced up. 'How long has it actually been?'
You thought about it.
'Months,' you said. 'Like… a good few months. We FaceTime all the time, obviously, but it’s not the same.'
'It’s never the same.' Sophia murmured, not looking up from the suitcase.
You nodded slightly. 'Yeah. It’s not.'
Megan shifted, sitting up a bit more. 'So,' she said, tilting her head, 'what’s the plan?'
You blinked. 'Plan?'
'The surprise,' she clarified. 'You said you weren’t just showing up. You had something planned.'
That made your smile come back instantly. 'Oh—yeah. Okay, wait.'
You dropped the makeup pouch onto your bed and fully turned toward her, suddenly more animated.
'So—she thinks I’m still in LA, right?' You started. 'I told her we’ve got rehearsals all week, super busy, no time to travel or anything.'
Daniela’s head snapped up. 'Oh, you’re lying lying.'
'It’s not lying,' you defended. 'It’s—strategic omission.'
'It’s lying.' Lara said.
'It’s romantic.' You corrected.
Megan smiled a little at that. 'Go on.' She said.
You took a small breath, already picturing it.
'So I land… I don’t tell her. I go straight to her house. And then I text her something normal, like, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ And she’ll probably say she’s at home, or about to go out or something—'
'And then?' Yoonchae asked, now fully invested.
'And then,' you said, grinning, 'I show up at her door.'
There was a pause. Then, 'Oh my god,' Daniela said, dramatically clutching her chest. 'That’s actually so cute.'
'She’s gonna lose her mind.' Manon added.
Lara nodded approvingly. 'Okay… I take it back. This is a good plan.'
Sophia smiled softly as she zipped another section of the suitcase. 'That’s really sweet.'
Megan didn’t say anything right away. She was watching you. Really watching you.
'You’ve thought about this a lot.' She said quietly.
Your smile softened. '…Yeah.'
Because you had.
You’d thought about it on late nights after practice, lying in bed with your phone pressed to your ear.
You’d thought about it during long rehearsals, when your body was exhausted but your mind drifted somewhere softer.
Back home. Back to her.
'I mean…' you said, a little quieter now, 'we’ve been together since school. Before all of this.'
You gestured vaguely around the room.
'Before Dream Academy. Before LA. Before everything got… crazy.'
They all listened now. Even Daniela had stopped messing around.
'I met her when I was sixteen,' you continued. 'We weren’t even close at first. Just… same classes, same hallways. But then we started talking more. Hanging out. And it just kind of… happened.'
You shrugged lightly. 'It was easy.'
Megan’s gaze didn’t leave you.
'And when you moved?' She asked.
You exhaled softly. 'I honestly thought it would end,' you admitted. 'I mean… moving across the country? That’s not exactly ideal.'
'Yeah.' Sophia said quietly.
'But she didn’t want it to end,' you said. 'She said we’d make it work. That distance didn’t matter if we cared enough.'
A small smile tugged at your lips. 'So… we did.'
For a moment, the room felt quieter. Not silent—your playlist still hummed in the background—but softer. More real.
'That’s actually insane,' Daniela said eventually. 'Like, in a good way. I could never.'
'You couldn’t go a day without attention.' Lara said.
'Excuse me? I thrive.'
You laughed, the mood lifting again.
Megan leaned back slightly, resting her hands behind her again. 'You really love her.' She said.
It wasn’t a question.
You didn’t hesitate. 'Yeah.' You said.
Simple. Certain. And completely true.
Sophia finally zipped up the suitcase with a satisfied nod.
'Done,' she said, patting it like she’d just completed a masterpiece. 'Everything fits. Nothing’s wrinkled. You’re welcome.'
You clapped lightly. 'You’re actually a lifesaver.'
'I know.'
Yoonchae set your chosen shoes beside the suitcase. 'These are your airport ones. No arguments.'
'And these,' Manon added, placing another pair on top, 'are for the outfit. Trust us.'
You shook your head, smiling. 'I don’t even have control over my own wardrobe anymore.'
'Nope,' Lara said. 'You gave that up when you asked for help.'
You looked around the room. At all of them. Your group. Your people. Your chaos. And your heart felt full.
'I’m really excited.' You said softly.
Megan’s eyes met yours again. 'I can tell.'
And as another early 2000’s song played in the background, as your suitcase sat packed and ready by the door, as your friends filled your room with noise and warmth— you held onto that excitement.
That certainty. That love waiting for you across the country, back home in Illinois. Everything felt right. Everything felt like it was falling into place.
And you had no idea just how wrong it was about to go.
---
By the time everything was packed, zipped, and forcefully compressed into your suitcase, the room somehow felt even smaller.
Maybe it was the energy. Or maybe it was just the fact that all seven of you were now trying to move at the same time.
'Careful—careful—don’t knock that over—' Sophia warned as you dragged your suitcase off the bed and onto the floor with a soft thud.
'I’ve got it.' You laughed, adjusting your grip before pulling the handle up. The familiar click echoed through the room, final.
That was it. You were really going.
You wheeled the suitcase toward the door, weaving past discarded outfits, shoes that didn’t make the cut, and Daniela, who was still holding a jacket like she might somehow sneak it in last minute.
'Wait—are you sure you don’t want this?' She asked, waving it at you.
'Yes,' you said, not even looking back. 'I’m sure.'
'It would’ve changed your life.'
'It would’ve ruined my suitcase space.'
'Debatable.'
The second you reached the doorway, the noise started again.
'I’m driving.' Lara said, already grabbing her keys from the side table like it had been decided hours ago.
'No, I’m driving,' Daniela cut in immediately, stepping in front of her. 'You drove last time.'
'That was weeks ago.'
'Exactly. Now its my turn.'
'You don’t even like driving.'
'I like it more than I like you driving.'
'Wow.'
You paused by the door, suitcase beside you, just… watching it unfold. It was like background noise at this point. Familiar. Loud. Kind of comforting.
'You literally missed a turn yesterday.' Lara continued.
'That was one time!'
'It was three.'
'Okay, first of all—'
You glanced around the room.
Manon and Yoonchae had already given up, sitting on the edge of the bed like spectators at a live show. Sophia leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly entertained.
And Megan… Megan was still sitting where she had been. Quieter now. Not laughing as much. Not jumping into the argument like she usually would.
She just watched.
Her gaze flicked between you and the door, like she was thinking about something she wasn’t saying.
You frowned slightly. That was… a little weird. She could drive too. If anything, she was one of the better drivers.
Normally, she’d have said something by now—made some comment, teased one of them, joined in.
But she didn’t.
'—and you nearly hit a curb!'
'I did not hit the curb!'
'You almost did!'
'Almost doesn’t count!'
You blinked, pulling yourself back into the moment.
Right. Airport. Flight. Girlfriend.
You let out a small breath and reached for your phone.
'Okay—nope,' you said, cutting through the argument. 'I’m ordering an Uber.'
Everything stopped.
Both Lara and Daniela turned to you at the same time.
'…What?' Lara said.
'You heard me,' you replied, already opening the app. 'I’m not risking my life today, sorry.'
'Hey!' Daniela protested.
'That’s so rude.' Lara added.
'It’s so true.' Sophia muttered under her breath.
You smiled to yourself as you typed in the destination.
'Plus,' you added, glancing up, 'if one of you drives, everyone’s gonna want to come. And then it’s a whole thing.'
'…She has a point.' Manon admitted.
Yoonchae nodded. 'We would all go.'
'Exactly,' you said, tapping confirm. 'This way, it’s simple. No fighting. No chaos.'
There was a pause. And then—
'…I still think I’m the better driver.' Daniela mumbled.
'You’re delusional.' Lara shot back.
'Uber’s on the way,' you announced, slipping your phone into your pocket. 'Five minutes.'
That immediately set things back into motion.
'Okay—carry-on!' Sophia said, clapping once. 'Do you have everything?'
You turned back into the room, scanning your desk. 'Uh—yeah, I think so.'
Your smaller bag sat open, half-packed. You moved quickly now, grabbing the last few things—
Phone charger.
Passport.
Lip balm.
Headphones.
You hesitated for a second before reaching for one more thing— A small hoodie. One you wore a lot. One that smelled faintly like home.
You folded it and tucked it into your carry-on. Just in case.
Behind you, the girls were still talking—less chaotic now, more scattered.
'Text us when you get there.'
'Don’t forget to eat.'
'Send pictures!'
'Call us if anything happens.'
You laughed softly, zipping up your bag. 'I will, I promise.'
When you turned back around, Megan was standing now. Closer to the door. Closer to you. You hadn’t even noticed when she got up.
'Uber’s almost here?' She asked.
'Yeah,' you said. 'Like… a minute away.'
She nodded.
There was a brief pause. Then she reached out, taking the handle of your suitcase from you without asking.
'I’ll carry it down.' She said.
You blinked. 'You don’t have to—'
'I know.' She replied simply.
But she didn’t let go. So you didn’t argue.
The walk out felt… different. Quieter, somehow, even with everyone trailing behind you.
The hallway lights buzzed faintly overhead, the sound of your suitcase wheels echoing against the floor.
You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, glancing ahead.
'Still excited?' Megan asked, not looking at you.
You smiled. 'Yeah,' you said. 'Really excited.'
She nodded again. '…Good.'
Outside, the air felt cooler. Fresh.
Your Uber was already waiting by the curb.
'Well,' Lara said, crossing her arms, 'this is it.'
Daniela pulled you into a quick hug. 'Don’t fall in love with your hometown and forget about us.'
'I literally live with you.' You laughed.
'Still. It happens.'
One by one, they hugged you. Quick squeezes. Soft goodbyes. Half-joking warnings.
Sophia held on a little longer. 'Be safe, okay?'
'I will.'
Megan was last. Of course she was. She stepped forward, a little slower than the others. For a second, it felt like she might say something. Something more.
But instead, she just pulled you into a hug. And held on. A little tighter. A little longer.
'Have fun.' She murmured.
You smiled against her shoulder. 'I will.'
You pulled back, grabbing your suitcase as the driver popped the trunk. One last glance. One last wave. And then you got in.
As the car pulled away, you leaned back into the seat, your carry-on resting against your legs.
Your phone buzzed almost immediately. The group chat. Messages flooding in.
You smiled, shaking your head as you opened them.
Outside, the city blurred past the window. Inside, your heart felt light. Excited. Hopeful. Everything was leading up to this. Seeing her. Surprising her.
Finally being together again.
---
The hum of the plane was steady. Low. Constant. Almost soothing.
You sat by the window, your carry-on tucked neatly under the seat in front of you, your headphones resting loosely around your neck. The same early 2000’s playlist still played quietly from your phone—more for comfort now than anything else.
Outside, everything was clouds. Endless, soft, untouchable clouds. It gave you too much time to think.
Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of your phone as your screen lit up again—notifications from the group chat still coming through.
Daniela💥: send a pic of the plane food IMMEDIATELY
Lara🧃: don’t listen to her it’s going to look disgusting
Sophia🫶: text us when you land please!!
Manon💫: have a safe flight <3
Megan💄: ignore dani, but yeah pls text when u land. sophia will have an aneurysm if she doesnt hear from u
Sophia🫶: NO I WONT
Yoonchae🩷: yes she will
Sophia🫶: yes i will
A small smile tugged at your lips.
You typed a quick response, something simple—
You: I will, relax
—before locking your phone again.
For a moment, you just sat there. Quiet. Still. And then, like it always did when things slowed down— your mind drifted back to her.
Y/gf/n.
Even thinking her name made something soft settle in your chest. It had always been like that.
You met her in school. Same year. Same building. Same routines. But you didn’t really know her at first.
She was just… there.
A familiar face in crowded hallways, someone you passed between classes, someone who existed in the background of your life without ever stepping into it.
It wasn’t until your last couple years that things changed.
Small things, at first. A shared class. A random conversation. A joke that went on a little longer than it should have.
You remembered it so clearly—the way it had been so easy to talk to her. No pressure. No awkwardness. No overthinking. Just… natural.
You started sitting together more. Walking to classes together. Texting outside of school about the most random things—music, teachers you both hated, stupid little moments from your day.
And somewhere in between all of that, something had shifted. You didn’t notice it all at once. It crept in slowly.
The way your conversations lasted longer. The way you looked for her in crowded spaces. The way silence between you never felt uncomfortable.
Until one day, it hit you. That feeling. That spark.
And once you noticed it, you couldn’t ignore it. It hadn’t taken long after that. Not really.
One late afternoon, sitting together, talking about nothing and everything, and then suddenly it wasn’t nothing anymore. You both felt it. You both knew.
And instead of pulling away, you leaned into it. Your lips curved slightly at the memory. It had been so simple. So… right.
And then everything changed.
Dream Academy. LA. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A decision that would shape your entire future.
You remembered the conversation like it had just happened. The way you’d told her. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes at first. The way she went quiet for a second too long. She didn't want you to go. Of course she didn’t. How could she?
It meant distance. Time zones. Missed moments. Everything that made relationships harder.
But she never asked you to stay. Not once.
Instead, she took your hands, squeezed them tightly, and said, 'You have to go.'
You swallowed slightly at the memory. She just wanted you to be happy. And she meant it. Even if it hurt her. Even if it scared her.
'Long distance isn’t ideal.' She had said, half laughing, half serious.
'No.' You agreed.
'But we can try.'
And you did. Late night calls that turned into early mornings. Falling asleep on FaceTime. Sending each other random pictures throughout the day just to feel close. Missing each other in quiet moments.
Learning how to love across distance instead of proximity. It wasn’t easy. But it was worth it. Because it was her.
The plane shifted slightly, pulling you out of your thoughts. A voice came over the speaker—something about preparing for landing.
You blinked, sitting up a little straighter. Already? Your heart started to pick up. A little faster. A little lighter. Excitement replacing the quiet reflection.
You reached for your phone again, unlocking it quickly.
A quick message to the group chat:
You: landing soon :)
Almost instantly—
Daniela💥: FINALLY
Lara🧃: don’t trip when you get off the plane
Sophia🫶: text us when you’re safe!!
Manon💫: atp just text every available second. itd ease soph's mind
You smiled, shaking your head.
Illinois. You were actually here.
Everything after that felt like a blur—grabbing your bag, stepping off the plane, the familiar feeling of being back home settling over you in ways you didn’t expect.
It smelled the same. Felt the same. Like nothing had changed. Except everything had.
You made your way through the airport, pulling your suitcase behind you, your carry-on slung over your shoulder.
Your heart was racing now. Not from nerves. From excitement. From anticipation. From knowing that in just a few hours, you’d see her.
You stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face, grounding you instantly.
'Okay,' you murmured to yourself, adjusting your grip on your suitcase. 'Next step.'
Car. Right. You pulled out your phone again, opening the booking app. You’d already planned this part.
A car for the week—nothing too fancy, just something reliable. Enough to get you around, to her house, to wherever you needed to go.
Your fingers moved quickly as you confirmed the rental. Pickup location. Duration. Payment. Done.
'Okay.' You exhaled softly.
Everything was falling into place. Just like you planned.
You started walking toward the rental area, your suitcase wheels clicking rhythmically against the pavement.
Your heart felt full. Hopeful. Excited. You were here. Back home. Back where it all started. Back where she was.
And in your mind, everything still felt exactly the way it used to. Like nothing had changed. Like this was going to be perfect.
---
The rental place smelled faintly of rubber and cheap air freshener.
You stood at the counter, keys finally being slid across to you after what felt like forever. The guy behind the desk gave you a quick, uninterested 'have a good day,' but you barely registered it.
Your fingers curled around the keys. That was it. The last step.
Outside, the air hit you again—cooler than LA, familiar in a way that settled deep in your chest.
You found the car easily enough. Nothing fancy, just like you planned. Simple. Reliable.
You tossed your suitcase into the back, slid into the driver’s seat, and for a second… You just sat there. Hands resting on the wheel. Heart beating a little too fast.
'This is it.' You whispered to yourself.
And then you reached for your phone. Your messages were already open. Her name right there at the top.
Y/gf/n💌
Your thumb hovered for a second before you typed:
You: hey, what r u doing rn?
You hit send. And then you waited.
BUZZ.
Not her. The group chat.
You glanced at it briefly.
Daniela💥: ARE YOU ALIVE
Lara🧃: did you land or did the plane explode
Sophia🫶: please update us when you can🥲
Megan💄: dont even joke about that lara
A small smile flickered across your face. You should reply. You would reply. Just… not yet.
BUZZ.
This time—her.
Your chest tightened instantly as you opened it.
Y/gf/n💌: just at home, why?
That was it. Simple. Casual. Normal. Your heart kicked up.
Perfect. You quickly typed back:
You: just wondering :) bored?
A pause. Then—
Y/gf/n💌: kinda yeah, why?
Your smile grew. You could already picture it. Her face when she opened the door. The surprise. The way she’d look at you like you were actually there.
You locked your phone, setting it in the cupholder.
'Okay,' you exhaled, starting the engine. 'Let’s go.'
The drive felt surreal. Everything looked the same. The same roads. The same turns. The same little details you hadn’t seen in months but still somehow remembered.
Your fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel as your playlist continued quietly in the background.
Your mind ran ahead of you. Replaying it. Over and over. You pulling up.
Walking to her door. Knocking. Her opening it.
That moment.
Your phone buzzed again. You didn’t even check it. Not this time. Not when you were this close. The closer you got, the faster your heart beat.
Your grip on the wheel tightened slightly. A nervous excitement building in your chest.
'Relax,' you muttered to yourself. 'It’s just her.'
Just her.
You turned onto her street. And everything slowed down. There it was. Her house. Exactly the same.
Nothing had changed.
You parked a little down the road, not wanting to ruin the surprise. Your hands felt slightly shaky as you turned the engine off. For a second, you just sat there again. Taking it in.
'I'm actually here.' You whispered.
A small, disbelieving smile tugged at your lips. You grabbed your phone, shoved it into your pocket, and stepped out of the car.
Each step toward her house felt heavier. More real. More final. Up the driveway. Past the same fence. To the same front door you’d stood at so many times before.
Your hand lifted. Knocked. And then you waited. Your heart jumped as you heard footsteps approach from inside.
The door opened. And everything immediately felt wrong. It wasn’t her. A girl stood there. Someone you’d never seen before.
She looked at you with mild confusion, like she wasn’t expecting anyone.
'…Hi? Can I help you?' She said.
Your brows furrowed slightly.
'…Hi.' You replied slowly.
There was a pause.
Your brain scrambled to catch up. 'Uh—sorry, is… is Y/gf/n here?'
The girl’s expression shifted slightly. Not confused anymore. Something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.
'Yeah.' She said casually, turning her head slightly over her shoulder.
Then, without hesitation— 'Baby! Someone’s here for you!'
Everything inside you dropped.
Baby.
Your stomach twisted so suddenly it almost hurt.
'No.' You whispered under your breath, more instinct than thought.
Footsteps again. Closer this time. Familiar. Too familiar. And then she appeared.
Y/gf/n.
Standing there. Looking at you.
For a second, neither of you said anything. Then her face changed. Shock. Panic. Guilt. All at once.
'…What are you doing here?' She asked.
And that— that hurt more than it should have.
Your chest tightened, your voice coming out quieter than you expected. 'I came to surprise you.'
The words felt heavy. Wrong and out of place. Silence stretched between you. Thick. Uncomfortable.
You glanced back at the girl. Then at her.
'…Who is this and why is she calling you baby?' You asked.
Your voice wavered slightly despite your effort to steady it.
'I—' She started.
Stopped. Looked away. And that was all it took. Your heart started pounding now. Louder. Faster.
'No,' you said again, this time louder. 'No, what is this?'
She stepped outside, closing the door behind her like she didn’t want the other girl hearing.
That alone told you everything.
'I... I was going to tell you.' She said.
Your stomach dropped. 'You were going to tell me?' You repeated, disbelief creeping in. 'Tell me what?'
She hesitated. And in that hesitation— everything shattered.
'I’ve been seeing someone else.'
Silence.
The words didn’t register properly at first.
Like your brain refused to process them. '…What?'
'I didn’t mean for it to happen,' she rushed out. 'It just—things got hard, and you were so far away, and—'
'So you cheated on me?'
You cut her off. Your voice was quiet. Too quiet.
She winced. 'I didn’t know how to tell you.'
You let out a breath that almost felt like a laugh. But it wasn’t.
'Yeah,' you said hollowly. 'Clearly.'
Everything felt distant. Muted. Like you weren’t fully there anymore.
'I still care about you,' she added quickly. 'I do. It’s just—'
'Stop.' Your voice cracked slightly. 'Just… stop talking.'
She fell silent. You stared at her. Really stared. Trying to reconcile the person in front of you with the one you’d spent months missing. Loving. Trusting.
'You said we’d make it work.' You said softly.
She didn’t respond.
'You said distance didn’t matter.'
Still nothing.
Your eyes burned. 'You said you wanted this.'
'I did.' She whispered.
You shook your head, stepping back slightly. 'Yeah,' you said. 'Well.'
Your voice broke. 'Guess that changed.'
For a second, it looked like she might reach for you. Like she might try to fix it. Explain it. Undo it.
You stepped back again.
'I flew all the way here,' you said, your voice barely holding together. 'To surprise you.'
The irony almost made you laugh.
'I’m sorry.' She said again.
But it didn’t fix anything. It didn’t undo anything. It didn’t make it hurt any less.
You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as your vision blurred. 'Yeah,' you said quietly. 'Me too.'
And with that— you turned. You walked away. Back down the driveway. Back to the car. Back to the version of your life that didn’t include her anymore.
'Y/N, wait—!' Her voice yelled.
You paused. Just for a second. Your hand tightening slightly at your side.
'Please—can we just talk this through?' She called after you, her footsteps quick as she followed you outside. 'Don’t just leave like this—'
For a moment you almost turned back. But then the front door opened again.
'Baby?'
That voice again. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.
'Who is that? Are you coming back inside?' The girl called, softer this time—but familiar enough to make your chest twist all over again.
You heard your now ex hesitate. Felt it in the silence.
'…Yeah, just—give me a second.' She called back.
A second. That was all it took. Something in your chest shifted. Not breaking this time. Just… settling.
You let out a slow breath. The kind that felt like it emptied something out of you completely. And instead of turning around, you kept walking.
Gravel crunching under your shoes. Your vision still blurred with tears.
'Wait—' She tried again, but it sounded weaker now. Further away.
You didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. Because you already knew that if she could hesitate like that, if she could turn back to her that easily— Then there was nothing left to talk about.
So you kept walking. All the way down the driveway. Back to your car. And away from everything you thought you had.
Your hands felt numb as you reached for the handle, fumbling slightly before finally pulling it open.
The familiar sound of the door clicking felt too loud in the quiet. Too final. And in your chest—something broke. Completely.
---
You don’t remember getting into the car. Not properly.
One second you were walking away—your legs moving on autopilot, your chest tight, your ears ringing— and the next— you were in the driver’s seat.
Door slammed shut. Locked. Safe. And then it hit. A sob tore out of your chest so suddenly it scared you. Loud. Broken. Ugly.
Your hands flew to your face as your body folded in on itself, forehead nearly hitting the steering wheel.
'No—no, no, no—' You choked, like saying it enough times might undo it.
It didn’t. Another sob followed. Then another. And then you couldn’t stop. Everything came crashing down at once. The flight. The excitement. The months of missing her. The plan.
Her voice saying, 'Baby!'
Your chest tightened so painfully it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
'Why—' you whimper, dragging in a shaky breath that did nothing to steady you. 'Why would she—'
Your voice broke off completely. There wasn’t even a question anymore. Just hurt.
Your hands trembled as you wiped at your face, but it didn’t help. Tears kept coming. Hot and relentless, blurring everything.
'I flew all the way here…' You whispered, the words cracking in half as they left your lips.
For her. Only for her.
Your head dropped back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut as another wave of sobs hit you. It was too much. It was all too much.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that. Minutes. Maybe longer. Time didn’t feel real anymore.
Eventually—your breathing started to slow. Still uneven. Still shaky. But quieter.
Your hands dropped into your lap. Your body felt heavy. Drained. Like something had been ripped out of you and left you hollow.
You stared blankly ahead. At nothing. '…I need to go home.'
The words came out hoarse. Barely there. But they were the first thing that made sense.
Home. Back to LA. To the girls. Anywhere but here.
Your hands moved before your brain could catch up. You reached for your phone, fingers still trembling as you unlocked it.
You didn’t even open your messages. Didn’t check anything. You went straight to flights back to LA. Earliest departure. That was all you cared about.
Your vision blurred again as you scanned the screen, blinking rapidly to try and clear it.
'Come on… please…'
There. A flight. Soon. Too soon, maybe—but you didn’t care. You booked it without hesitation. No second thoughts.
Only then did you finally open your messages. The group chat exploded onto your screen. Dozens of notifications.
More than you expected.
Daniela💥: HELLO??
Lara🧃: did you make it to her house yet
Sophia🫶: are you okay??
Manon💫: update us please😭
Yoonchae🩷: did the surprise work??
And—
Megan💄 : hey… is everything okay?
Your chest tightened again. Not as sharp this time. Just… heavy. They didn’t know. Of course they didn’t know.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. What were you even supposed to say? How do you explain something like that? How do you put that kind of hurt into words?
You swallowed hard, your throat still tight from crying.
Then, slowly, you typed:
You: I’m travelling back.
You stared at the message for a second. It felt… empty. Like it didn’t even begin to cover it. But it was all you had. You hit send.
Almost instantly the typing bubbles appeared. Multiple. All at once. You didn’t wait. You couldn’t.
Your phone buzzed again. And again. And again. But you already knew what it would be. Questions. Concern. Confusion.
You locked your phone.
A sudden sound made you flinch. Footsteps. Fast. Approaching.
You froze.
A knock. Sharp against the glass. 'Hey—Y/N!'
Your head snapped up. She was there.
Y/gf/n.
Standing outside the car. Her expression a little more panicked than earlier, one hand pressed against your window as she knocked again.
'Please—can we just talk?' She said, her voice muffled through the glass. 'Just—just give me a second, please.'
Your heart lurched. For a split second—just one—your body almost reacted on instinct. Almost reached for the door. Almost gave in.
But then— 'Baby' plays back in your head as your focus shifts past Y/gf/n, settling on the girl by the door, her expression quietly conflicted.
Your expression hardened, even as fresh tears blurred your vision. You shook your head. Small. But firm.
'Please,' she tried again, softer this time. She leaned closer to the window, like she could make you hear her better. 'Just listen to me—say something—'
You couldn’t. If you opened that window, if you let her speak, you knew you’d break all over again. So instead you looked away.
Her voice cracked slightly. 'Don’t do that… please don’t ignore me.'
Your hands tightened around the steering wheel. Your chest felt like it was caving in.
'Y/N,' she pleaded. 'Please.'
But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because if you did, you might forgive her. And she didn’t deserve that.
Your breath hitched as another tear slipped down your cheek. And without looking back, you started the engine.
Her eyes widened. 'Wait—'
You didn’t stop. The car pulled forward. Slow at first. Then faster.
She stepped back quickly, her hand dropping from the window as you drove past her. You didn’t look. Didn’t check.
Didn’t let yourself. Because if you did, you might turn around. And you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.
So you drove.
Your breathing was still uneven. Your chest still hurt. Your eyes still burned.
The drive back felt worse. So much worse. The same roads. The same turns. The same place you’d just driven through with excitement buzzing in your chest.
Now, everything felt dull. Heavy and wrong.
Your vision blurred again, tears slipping down your cheeks no matter how many times you tried to blink them away.
You sniffed, gripping the wheel tighter. '… focus,' you muttered. 'Just get home.'
Your chest still ached. That tight, suffocating feeling refusing to go away. Every now and then, a sob would slip out again. Quieter this time. But no less painful.
The music was still playing softly in the background. One of your favourite songs. Something that used to make you happy. Now it just made your throat close up again.
You reached over and turned it off.
Silence filled the car. And all that was left, was you. Your thoughts. And the sound of your own broken breathing as you drove back to the airport.
Back to LA. Back to the only place that still felt like home. Even if your heart didn’t feel whole anymore.
---
The airport came into view sooner than you expected. Or maybe you just weren’t paying attention.
The drive had blurred together. Red lights you didn’t remember stopping at. Turns you didn’t remember making.
Just the sound of your own uneven breathing filling the car.
By the time you pulled into the car rental return area, your eyes were dry. But only because you didn’t have anything left to cry.
Your chest still hurt, though. That didn’t go away.
You parked the car slowly, the engine idling for a second longer than necessary before you finally turned it off.
Silence.
Your hands stayed on the steering wheel. You stared straight ahead. Not really seeing anything.
'…Okay, pull yourself together, Y/N.' You murmured to yourself.
It didn’t mean anything. Just something to fill the quiet.
You reached for your phone. For a second, you hesitated. Then unlocked it.
The screen lit up, and there she was. Over and over. Missed calls. Messages stacked on top of each other.
Y/gf/n💌: please just talk to me
Y/gf/n💌: i’m sorry
Y/gf/n💌: don’t leave like that
Y/gf/n💌: please
Another missed call. And another. And another.
Your jaw tightened. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a second. Not to reply. Just… there.
'…No.' You whispered quietly and finally.
You locked your phone. Didn’t even open the messages fully. Didn’t give her that.
Instead, you shoved it deep into your carry-on, like if you couldn’t see it, it couldn’t reach you.
You stepped out of the car. The air felt colder now. Or maybe that was just you. The trunk popped open with a dull click. You pulled your suitcase out, the weight of it heavier than it had been earlier.
Not physically. Just… everything else.
The process of returning the car felt mechanical. Handing over the keys. A quick check. A polite 'thank you' you barely heard.
You nodded when you were supposed to. Spoke when you had to. But your mind wasn’t really there.
Then you were walking again. Back through the airport doors. Back into the noise. The movement. The normalcy of everything around you. It felt wrong.
People laughed. Talked. Dragged their suitcases behind them like nothing in the world was falling apart. And you just… moved through it.
Quiet. Detached. Security was a blur. Shoes off. Bag through. Step forward. Wait. Collect your things. Move on.
You didn’t think. You couldn’t. Because if you did, you’d feel it all over again.
Once you were through, you checked the board. Found your gate. Walked. Each step felt heavier than the last. Like your body was finally catching up to everything your heart had already gone through.
By the time you reached your gate, it was still early. Not many people yet. Just a few scattered travellers.
You picked a seat in the corner. Away from everyone. You didn’t sit normally. Didn’t lean back. Didn’t relax.
Instead, you pulled your legs up onto the chair, curling in on yourself, arms wrapped loosely around your knees. Making yourself smaller. Contained.
Your gaze dropped to the floor. Unfocused. And for a while, you just sat there. No music. No phone. No distractions.
Just you. And everything you were trying not to think about. Her face. Her voice. That word.
Baby.
Your throat tightened again. Your grip on your legs tightened slightly. 'Don’t,' you whispered to yourself. 'Do not start again.'
Because you knew that if you let yourself feel it fully right now, you wouldn’t stop. So you didn’t. You swallowed it down. Forced it down. Pushed it somewhere deep enough that you could breathe.
But it didn’t go away. It just… sat there. Heavy. Waiting.
Your mind drifted somewhere else instead. Somewhere safer. The girls. Your chest tightened again—but differently this time. Softer. Still painful. But… safer.
You’d have to face them soon and explain. Say it out loud. Make it real.
'I’m travelling back.'
That’s all you gave them. That’s all they knew. You could already picture their faces. The questions. The concern. The way they’d look at you and know something was wrong.
Your grip tightened again. '…I can’t do this.' You whispered.
But you didn’t have a choice. So instead, you sat there. Curled up in that chair. Trying to hold yourself together just long enough to get back home.
---
The Uber ride felt like nothing. It was the same as the plane journey. You didn’t remember most of it. Not the turns. Not the traffic. Not even getting out.
One second you were sitting in the backseat, staring blankly out the window— and the next— you were standing outside the apartment door.
Your suitcase beside you. Your carry-on slipping slightly off your shoulder. Your hand hovered over the handle. For a second… you just stood there. Breathing. Trying to pull yourself together.
'They don’t know yet,' you whispered. 'They don’t know.'
But your chest tightened anyway. Because they would know. The second they saw you.
You pushed the door open. The apartment was quiet for about half a second.
Then—
'There—!'
'She's back—'
'Oh my god—'
You froze.
All of them were there. In the living room. Pacing. Sitting. Standing. Waiting.
Megan was closest to the door. She must’ve been the one watching for you. The second she saw your face, everything in her expression dropped.
And just like that, everything you’d been holding in broke. A sob ripped out of your chest before you could stop it. Sharp. Loud. Painful.
'Why are you crying?' Daniela’s voice cracked, panic already creeping in.
'What happened—talk to us.' Lara said, stepping closer, her usual teasing tone completely gone.
Megan didn’t speak at first. She just stared at you like she already knew. Like she didn’t need you to say it.
Yoonchae moved closer carefully, her voice soft. 'Hey… you’re okay, we’ve got you… what’s wrong?'
Manon was right behind her, eyes scanning your face. 'Did something happen over there? Talk to us.'
You shook your head. You couldn’t, you couldn’t do this here. Not like this.
'I—' your voice broke instantly. 'I can’t—'
Another sob cut you off.
Megan took a step forward then, her voice low. 'Hey… it’s okay,' she said, gentle but firm. 'Come here—'
But you were already backing away. You turned quickly, almost stumbling as you rushed past them.
Your suitcase rolled behind you for half a second before your grip gave out. It clattered against the floor near the door. Your carry-on slipped off your shoulder right after it. Your phone still buzzing, buried somewhere inside.
'Wait—'
'Hey—don’t just go—'
'Talk to us, please—'
You couldn’t. You made it to your room somehow. You didn’t remember how. The door barely shut behind you before your legs gave out.
You stumbled forward and collapsed onto your bed, face down, your arms folding under you as another wave of sobs hit.
This time there was no holding it back. Your body shook with it. Breath hitching. Chest tightening. Tears soaking into your sheets.
'I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—' You cried into the mattress.
The door opened almost immediately this time. No hesitation.
'Oh my god—' Daniela’s voice came first as they crowded in.
'Give her space—wait—no, not like that—' Lara tried to balance it, but she still rushed in.
The bed dipped around you as they gathered. Sophia sat closest, her hand instantly finding your back, rubbing slow, steady circles.
'Hey… hey, breathe.' She said softly.
Yoonchae climbed onto the bed near your side, careful, gentle. Her hand hovered for a second before resting lightly on your arm.
'We're here,' she whispered. 'You’re not alone, okay?'
Manon sat near your legs, one hand resting firmly against your calf like she was grounding you there.
'Whatever it is,' she said, voice calm but serious, 'we’re here. You don’t have to deal with it by yourself.'
Megan sat last. Right beside you. Close enough that you could feel her presence without even looking. Her hand hovered over your back for a second— like she didn’t want to overwhelm you— before finally resting there. Steady. Warm.
'Talk to us.' She said quietly.
You shook your head into the mattress. You couldn’t form the words. You couldn’t say it.
Sophia’s hand didn’t stop moving. 'Take your time. You don’t have to rush.'
But the words forced themselves out anyway. Broken. Uneven. 'She—' you choked. 'She cheated—'
It went silent for a second.
'What?' Daniela snapped, standing up halfway like she couldn’t sit still anymore.
'You’re joking,' Lara said, shaking her head immediately. 'No, no—there’s no way—'
Manon’s expression hardened instantly. 'Say that again.' She said, quieter now—but sharper.
You lifted your head slightly, your face soaked with tears. 'She cheated on me.'
Yoonchae’s hand tightened around your arm. 'No…' she whispered, her voice small. 'You went all the way there…'
Megan went still. Completely still. Then her jaw clenched.
'She did what?' Daniela snapped again, pacing now. 'After you flew all the way out there? That’s insane.'
'That’s actually disgusting.' Lara added, anger creeping into her voice.
Manon leaned forward slightly, her tone low but firm. 'Did she tell you, or did you find out?'
You swallowed hard, your throat tight, voice shaking. 'I… I met her,' you managed. 'The girl.'
The room stilled.
'She opened the door,' you continued, your voice cracking as the memory replayed. 'And then she just—called her baby… right in front of me.'
Yoonchae’s hand tightened around your arm immediately. 'No…' she whispered, eyes wide. 'Right in front of you?'
Megan went completely still beside you.
Yoonchae shook her head immediately. 'That’s so messed up, I'm so sorry.'
Manon’s expression darkened, jaw tightening. 'So you didn’t just find out,' she said quietly. 'She let you walk into that.'
You nodded weakly, tears slipping down your face again. 'I didn’t even have to ask,' you whispered. 'I just… knew.'
Sophia pulled you up gently, guiding you into her arms. 'I’m so sorry…' She murmured, holding you tightly.
You clung to her, your body still trembling. 'I surprised her,' you cried. 'I went there to surprise her and—'
Your voice broke again. Megan’s hand pressed more firmly against your back. Not pushing. Just… there.
'She doesn’t deserve you.' She said quietly.
There was something in her voice. Something controlled. But angry.
'She really doesn’t.' Yoonchae added softly, rubbing your arm now.
Manon nodded once. 'You did everything right. This is not on you.'
'I just don’t understand,' you whispered. 'Everything was fine…'
'It wasn’t.' Megan said gently.
You stilled slightly.
'If she could do that to you,' she continued, voice soft but certain, 'then it wasn’t what you thought it was.'
That hurt. But it also made sense.
Daniela threw her hands up. 'I actually can’t—like, I’m getting angry just thinking about it.'
'You should be angry,' Lara said. 'That’s ridiculous.'
'She doesn’t get access to you anymore,' Manon added firmly. 'That’s done.'
You cried harder at that. Not because of what they were saying— but because they were there. All of them.
For a while, it was just that. Their voices overlapping. Soft touches grounding you. Anger on your behalf. Comfort surrounding you.
Eventually, your sobs softened. Not gone. Just quieter. Your body felt heavy. Drained.
'I’m so tired…' You murmured.
'Then rest.' Sophia said gently.
Yoonchae squeezed your arm lightly. 'We’ll be right outside if you need anything, okay?'
Manon stood slowly. 'You’re not dealing with this alone. Remember that.'
Daniela lingered, still visibly annoyed. 'I don’t like this. I really don’t.'
'I know.' You whispered.
Lara gave you a softer look than usual. 'We’ve got you.'
One by one— they started to leave.
Yoonchae gave your arm one last gentle squeeze before slipping off the bed. Manon followed, glancing back once before stepping out. Daniela and Lara muttered something to each other as they left, still clearly heated.
Sophia brushed your hair back lightly before standing. 'Try to sleep, okay?'
The room grew quieter. The door almost closed. But not completely. Because Megan hadn’t moved.
---
The apartment had gone quiet again. Not silent—but softer. The kind of quiet where people were moving carefully, trying not to make things worse.
In your room, you were curled against Megan, your face pressed into her shoulder as the last of your sobs slowly faded into shaky breaths.
Her hand hadn’t stopped moving on your back. Slow circles. Over and over. Grounding.
Every now and then she’d brush her fingers through your hair, gently untangling it where it had stuck to your damp face.
'You’re okay,' she murmured quietly. 'Just breathe.'
You sniffed, your voice hoarse. 'I feel so stupid.'
Megan immediately shook her head. 'No,' she said firmly. 'Don’t even start with that.'
You pulled back slightly, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. 'But I should’ve known something was wrong. I flew all the way there like some—'
'—like someone who loved her girlfriend.' Megan cut in gently.
You looked down at the blanket beneath you. 'Yeah,' you whispered. 'Loved.'
The word felt strange now. Heavy.
Megan’s expression softened, but there was still that tension sitting in her jaw.
'You didn’t do anything wrong,' she said quietly. 'She did.'
You swallowed hard. 'I just keep hearing it.' You admitted.
'Hearing what?'
You hesitated. '…when that girl called her baby.'
Megan’s hand paused briefly on your back before continuing the same soothing motion.
'Yeah,' she muttered under her breath. 'I’d like five minutes alone with that situation.'
Despite everything, a tiny, broken laugh escaped you. Your head dropped back onto her shoulder again.
Out in the apartment, the rest of the girls were doing everything they could think of to help.
Yoonchae and Daniela had pushed the couches together, piling blankets and pillows on top to make the living room look more like a giant comfort nest than a normal seating area.
Lara and Manon had returned from the gas station with your favourite slushie flavours and a bag of random snacks they insisted might help. Sophia was finishing up ordering pizza and your favourite comfort food.
'We’re basically building a sadness survival kit.' Lara announced.
'Good,' Daniela said. 'Because she deserves to be spoiled right now.'
Then—
bzzzzzz.
Everyone froze. The sound came again.
bzzzzzz.
Yoonchae frowned slightly. '…What’s that?'
The vibration was coming from near the front door. Manon walked over, glancing down at the pile of luggage still sitting by the entrance.
'Y/N's bag.' She said.
bzzzzzz.
Sophia leaned closer. 'Is that her phone?'
The screen inside the partially open bag lit up again. And again. And again.
Daniela’s eyebrows shot up. 'That has to be her.'
Another vibration. Another incoming call.
Yoonchae sighed softly. 'She’s not stopping.'
Sophia picked up the bag carefully. 'Let’s bring it to her.'
Back in your room, you had just started to calm down when there was a gentle knock. The door creaked open a second later.
Sophia stepped in first, followed by Yoonchae and Daniela. They all looked hesitant, like they weren’t sure if they were interrupting something fragile.
'Hey.' Sophia said softly.
You sat up slightly, eyes still red. 'Hi.'
Yoonchae held up the bag a little. 'Your phone’s in here.'
Daniela gestured toward it. 'It’s been vibrating like crazy.'
Your stomach dropped immediately. You didn’t even need to see the screen. '…It’ll be her.' You whispered.
Another vibration buzzed through the bag.
Your chest tightened and fresh tears pricked your eyes. 'I can’t,' you said quickly, voice breaking. 'I can’t... I don't want to talk to her.'
Before the panic could spiral again, Megan reached out calmly. 'Give it here.'
Sophia handed the bag over. Megan pulled your phone out and glanced at the screen. Sure enough—
Your ex’s name filled it. Calling again. And again.
Without hesitation, Megan declined the call. The room went quiet.
She tapped a few more things on the screen. Blocked the number. Right there. Right then. She placed the phone gently on your nightstand.
'She’s not bothering you anymore.' Megan said calmly.
Just like that. The knot in your chest loosened a little. Not completely. But enough that you could breathe again.
Daniela crossed her arms. 'Good. She doesn’t deserve access to you.'
Yoonchae nodded softly. 'We got food,' she said gently. 'Pizza, snacks… your favourite slushie too.'
Sophia added, 'We made the living room really cosy if you want to come out.'
You hesitated. Your body still felt heavy. Your heart even heavier.
'I… maybe in a bit.'
Before the girls could respond, Megan spoke up quietly. 'I’ll bring her out in a little while.'
The others nodded.
'Okay,' Sophia said. 'No pressure.'
Daniela pointed lightly toward the hallway. 'But the pizza’s waiting when you’re ready.'
Yoonchae gave you a small encouraging smile before they all slipped back out of the room. The door closed again. Leaving just you and Megan.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt calmer now. Quieter.
You leaned back against the headboard, wiping your face again. '…Thanks for blocking her.' You said quietly.
Megan shrugged lightly. 'She lost the privilege of calling you.'
You looked at her then. Really looked. She was still sitting close, her knee touching yours, her hand resting loosely on the blanket between you.
Then she said it. Quietly. But clearly.
'You know… I’d be a better girlfriend than her.'
You blinked. Taken completely off guard. '…What?'
Megan looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again. 'I’m serious.'
You let out a small breath of disbelief. 'You’re just saying that to make me feel better.'
She shook her head. 'No, I’m not.'
Her voice was steady. No teasing. No joking.
'I mean it.'
Your brain stalled. 'You… mean it?'
Megan nodded slowly. 'I’ve watched you care about someone who didn’t treat you right,' she said. 'And I know I’d never do that to you.'
Your heart skipped nervously in your chest.
'I’d take care of you,' she continued softly. 'I’d actually show up for you.'
You stared at her. Speechless.
The room suddenly felt very small. Very real.
'I—' You started, but no words came out.
Megan didn’t rush you. Didn’t pressure you. She just waited.
Finally, you managed to speak. 'Megan… I…'
You took a shaky breath.
'I’d like to give you a chance someday.'
Her expression softened immediately.
'But,' you continued gently, 'I just… got my heart broken today.'
Your voice dropped. 'I need time.'
She nodded instantly. 'No, I get that.'
'I need time to heal,' you said honestly. 'Before jumping into something else.'
A small, understanding smile appeared on Megan’s face. 'Take all the time you need.'
Your shoulders relaxed slightly. '…You’re really okay with that?'
'Of course I am.' She said.
Then she nudged your shoulder lightly. 'But for now,' she added softly, 'we should probably go eat before Lara eats your pizza.'
A faint laugh escaped you. The first real one since you got home. And Megan smiled when she heard it.
'Yeah,' she said. 'That’s better.'
She stood up and held out a hand. 'Come on.'
And for the first time all night, getting out of bed didn’t feel impossible.
---
By the time Megan guided you out of your room, the apartment felt… different. Softer. Warmer. Safer.
The living room had been completely transformed.
The couches were pushed together, covered in blankets and pillows, creating a giant, makeshift nest. The coffee table was crowded with pizza boxes, snacks, and the slushies Lara and Manon had insisted on getting, albeit slightly melted.
Daniela looked up first. 'There she is.' She said, immediately sitting up straighter.
Lara didn’t even hesitate. 'Get over here.' She said, already opening her arms.
You barely had time to react before she was pulling you down beside her, tucking you firmly into her side like it was her personal mission to keep you there.
'No moving,' she added. 'You’re staying right here.'
You let out a small, tired laugh, letting yourself melt into her warmth. 'Okay…'
Almost instantly, the others shifted closer.
Yoonchae tucked a blanket over your legs carefully. 'Are you warm enough?'
Manon handed you your slushie. 'Drink. You need sugar.'
Sophia slid a plate of food toward you. 'You don’t have to eat a lot. Just something.'
Daniela, however, crouched down at the end of the couch, eyeing your feet. '…Do you want a foot massage?'
You blinked at her. '…What?'
'I’m serious,' she said. 'Its a great stress relief.'
You narrowed your eyes slightly. 'Dani, if you touch my feet, I will kick you.'
She grinned. 'That’s kind of the point.'
'Daniela.'
'Okay, okay!' She laughed, holding her hands up. 'Offer stands though.'
You shook your head, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on your face now.
Megan settled on your other side. Close. Careful. Not overwhelming.
You were still tucked into Lara’s side, your head resting against her shoulder, but Megan’s presence was right there too. Her hand found your hair almost instinctively.
Slowly, gently, she started playing with it. Running her fingers through it. Light, soothing motions.
You didn’t even think about it— you just relaxed.
The conversation around you stayed light. Soft. Mostly the girls talking about random things, occasionally checking in on you without making it overwhelming.
'You’re banned from flying anywhere ever again.' Daniela declared at one point.
'Daniela.' Sophia sighed.
'I’m serious.'
You huffed out a quiet laugh against Lara’s shoulder. Time passed without you noticing. The warmth. The food. The quiet comfort of being surrounded by people who cared about you.
And Megan’s fingers still in your hair. Steady and gentle. Your eyes started to feel heavy.
Lara noticed first.
'Hey,' she murmured softly. 'You falling asleep on me?'
'…Maybe.' You mumbled.
'Good,' she said, tightening her arm around you slightly. 'That’s the goal.'
You didn’t fight it. Didn’t try to stay awake. Didn’t try to hold yourself together anymore.
You just let go. Your breathing slowed. Your body softened completely against Lara. And somewhere in the quiet— you fell asleep.
The girls noticed almost immediately.
'Shh.' Yoonchae whispered.
'She's out.' Manon said softly.
Carefully—so carefully—they shifted around you. Not wanting to wake you. Not wanting to disturb even a second of peace you’d finally found.
At some point, without you realising, you were moved, adjusted, onto Megan… and Megan didn’t let go.
The next morning, soft light filtered through the windows. Quiet and still.
Your eyes opened slowly. Everything felt… warm. Comfortable. For a moment, you didn’t move, didn’t think. You just existed in the softness.
Then you shifted slightly and realised you weren’t against Lara anymore. You were curled into Megan. Your head rested against her chest, her arm wrapped securely around you, holding you close like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your legs were tucked slightly into her side. Her hoodie bunched slightly in your grip.
You blinked. '…Oh.'
You didn’t remember moving. Didn’t remember falling asleep like this. But you didn’t pull away. Because it felt… nice. Safe. Warm.
You settled slightly closer without even thinking. Your face pressing a little more into her chest. A quiet sound came from above you. A soft breath.
Then Megan’s arm tightened around you. Just slightly. Like she was waking up too.
Your heart skipped.
'Morning.' She murmured, her voice still sleepy.
'…Morning.' You replied quietly.
Neither of you moved as footsteps approached.
'Oh?'
Sophia stood at the edge of the living room, taking in the scene. Her lips curved into a knowing smile.
'Well,' she said lightly, crossing her arms, 'this is interesting.'
Your face immediately warmed. 'It’s not—'
'Mhm,' she hummed. 'Sure.'
Megan huffed out a quiet laugh, clearly not even trying to argue.
Sophia shook her head, amused. 'I’ll make breakfast.'
Then she added, walking away— 'Try not to fall in love before pancakes.'
'SOPHIA—' You groaned weakly.
But she was already gone.
You buried your face deeper into Megan’s chest. '…I’m never leaving this couch again.'
Megan chuckled softly, her hand coming up to gently rest on your head. 'Good. Stay here.'
You didn’t argue. Didn’t move. Her arm tightened around you again. And this time you leaned into it. Fully.
Your heart still hurt. Still felt fragile. Still ached in ways you couldn’t fix overnight. But here, like this—wrapped up in warmth, surrounded by people who cared about you— curled safely against Megan, it didn’t feel as broken.
Summary: A trail of candid, stolen moments — shaky fan cams, slowed-down clips, and duetted breakdowns — captures the quiet intimacy between you and Manon. Nothing confirmed. Nothing spoken. Just a pattern of small gestures and lingering touches fans can’t stop replaying.
(The Wardrobe Malfunction @ Phoenix, AZ) - 590.7k Views
The video starts shaky.
You can tell the fan filming is laughing, breathless as they try to keep the stage in frame while jumping along with the music. The sound is loud and blown out, bass vibrating through the mic, the crowd screaming lyrics over the girls' voices.
The stage lights are blinding white, pink and gold, cutting through the haze.
You're all over the stage, loose now, playful. No strict formation, just movement. Hair sticking to sweat damp skin, smiles wide, adrenaline high. Someone spins, someone else almost collides with another member and laughs it off mid-choreo.
Then something changes.
It's subtle enough that most people don't catch it at first. The fan filming zooms in on you because you've suddenly gone very still, half a beat off.
You reach back instinctively, too quick and too precise for it to be choreography. Your shoulders tense, your smile falters for a fraction of a second before you turn sharply, presenting your back to the crowd as one arm crosses over yourself.
You're clearly trying to keep dancing, trying to keep it normal. But there's a flash of panic in the way you glance sideways, eyes scanning for help.
Manon see's it immediately.
You can actually see the moment it registers. Her head snaps towards you, expression shifting from carefree to focused in less than a second.
She doesn't even hesitate.
She moves fast, purposeful, cutting across the stage instead of following the loose formation. As she passes Megan, she grabs her wrist without even looking at her.
The fan filming zooms in harder now, confused. 'What—?' Someone yells near the camera.
Manon positions Megan directly in front of you, her back to you as she faces the crowd, arms lifting instinctively to block the view like she already understands. Megan's still smiling at first, thinking it's a bit... until she turns to look at you.
Her smile drops.
Manon steps in close beside you, one hand steady at your shoulder, the other already working at the strap that's come undone. Her body shields yours completely, tall and solid, blocking every angle the crowd might have.
From the fans camera, all you can see is Megan's front and Manon's side profile, the two of them forming a wall around you.
The music keeps going. So do the other girls. So does the crowd, mostly unaware, still screaming, still filming.
Manon leans in, her mouth close to your ear. You can't hear what she says over the music, but you nod quickly, breathing shallow, hands clenched at your sides.
Her hands work quickly, precise and careful. You jolt faintly at the adjustment, but the smile that follows tells everyone it’s been fixed.
She tests it once, then twice, making sure its secure. Only then does she pull back slightly, eyes scanning you head to toe, checking that you're okay.
You look up at her, relief flooding your face so openly it almost hurts to see.
Manon gives you a small nod, only then does she step away.
Megan spins back into the song like nothing happened, professionalism snapping back into place. You turn with her, shoulders squaring, smile returning—this time real.
The beat drops as you re-join the others, dancing like your heart isn't still racing.
From the phone, the fan lets out a breathy laugh, half shocked, 'No way,' she says. 'Did you guys see that?'
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: manon clocked that INSTANTLY
15k likes 2.9k replies
chatter02: there was no hesitation
98k likes 7k replies
chatter03: 100% focus right there, the crowd did not exist in that moment
101.3k likes 53.7k replies
chatter04: MANON CARES
37k likes 1.8k replies
chatter05: she dont want her gf to flash everyone, makes sense
159.3k likes 68k replies
↳ chatter06: you're delulu
150k likes
↳ chatter05: ik 😭
248k likes
---
📹Clip Two📹
(VMA's BTS from interview) - 3.7M views
The first clip is clean.
Crisp audio and perfect lighting. The VMA's step and repeat stretching endlessly behind you in black and silver, logo's sharp and glossy.
The interviewer smiles wide, microphone angled just right. 'So, from being on tour and now you're all here tonight,' she asks, 'what's been the most surprising part of this year for you all?'
The camera frames you first. You step forward automatically, posture straight, smile practiced. You start strong measured and professional. 'I think for us, it's really about-about learning how to... um—'
You blink as the words tangle.
'... how to, like, grow individually while also... group—grouping?' You pause, eyes widening slightly as you realise what you just said.
There's a beat as you laugh nervously, cheeks flushing. 'Sorry—wow. I just combined about six thoughts into one sentence.'
The interviewer chuckles kindly. 'It happens.'
You inhale, shake it off and finish the thought smoothly, this time talking about growth, gratitude, the fans, the year. You land it.
But beside you— Manon is losing it.
The camera catches her just enough—lips pressed together, shoulders shaking as she tries not to laugh. Her eyes flick to you, warm and amused.
You glance at her and immediately groan. 'Don't.'
She bites her lip harder, fails, and lets out a soft giggle anyway.
The camera pans away then, shifting focus to Sophia as she smoothly continues the answer, voice confident and unfazed.
There's a cut to the next clip which starts shakier.
Vertical. Grainier. Clearly filmed from behind the barricade, the audio muddled with crowd noise and distant music.
The same moment, same question. But this time, you can see everything the official camera missed.
The fan’s phone zooms in too quickly, the frame jerking slightly as she tries to steady it. You cringe, laugh, apologise. The crowd behind the camera lets out soft, affectionate laughter.
Then the interviewers' camera pans away. The fans doesn't. The second it does, Manon leans in.
She bumps her shoulder into yours, laughing openly now, head tipping forward until her forehead nearly touches your shoulder. Her hand comes up instinctively, curling into the fabric at your side as she pulls you a little closer.
'You grouped.' She whispers, still giggling as the fans camera manages to pick up the words.
You hide your face briefly in your hand. 'I hate you.'
'No, you don't.' She says immediately, voice fond but still warm with laughter.
She slides her arm around you properly then. Not showy, not posed. Just a soft, grounding half hug while the interview continues without you.
You relax into it without thinking.
The fan filming gasps quietly. 'Oh my god,' she whispers. 'I caught that on video.'
Manon's laughter fades into something softer as she presses her cheek briefly against your shoulder, like she's sharing the moment with you instead of mocking it.
You tilt your head toward her, murmuring something back that the camera can't quite catch, but it makes her smile again, slower this time.
The clip ends mid scream.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: the official cam missed EVERYTHING
47k likes 1.5k replies
chatter02: yup, she grouped
4.9k likes 954 replies
chatter03: laughing then comforting, thats so real
968k likes 76.8k replies
chatter04: manon laughing INTO HER SIDE is insane
165k likes 7.3k replies
chatter05: okayyyyy, we get itttttt just date already
917.9k likes 101k replies
---
📹Clip Three📹
(Caught in 4k) - 1.1M views
The video isn't shaky this time. It's steady. Too steady.
The fan filming clearly doesn't realise what they've caught at first — they're just recording the basketball game atmosphere. The scoreboard flashes overhead. The arena lights sweep across the crowd during a timeout as music blasts through the speakers.
Then the camera pans casually across the lower bowl seating.
And stops.
'Wait—' The person filming says.
It zooms in. And there you are.
You're seated courtside, casual in hoodies, no stage makeup. No performance smiles. Just... off duty.
Manon is beside you, sitting close. Closer than friendly close.
Her arm is draped around your shoulders like it's been there all night. Not loose, not temporary.
Resting. Settled.
You're tucked slightly into her side, body angled toward her instead of the court.
The fan filming audibly gasps. 'Oh my god! That's Y/N and Manon from Katseye!'
The camera zooms further. You're both watching the game but you're not really watching it.
You lean up first, saying something into her ear over the noise of the arena. Your mouth brushes close — too close — because you have to be heard.
Manon tilts her head down to listen. Not pulling away. If anything, leaning in more.
Her hand tightens just slightly at your shoulder.
The crowd roars at a play. But neither of you react. You're still mid-conversation.
Now she leans down to your ear. Her lips move slowly, close enough that if the arena were quiet, it would look intimate instead of practical.
You laugh at whatever she says, soft and private. Not camera aware in the slightest.
You don't move away afterwards. You stay tucked there. Manon's arm doesn't shift. It looks... natural. Like this is where you sit.
The fan zooms even closer.
There's a moment. It happens fast as something on the court draws a reaction from the people around you. The section rises slightly in surprise. You both turn at the same time, not toward the court.
But towards each other. Your faces are already close, it looks like muscle memory.
Manon's head tilts, yours does too. For half a second, your noses almost brush.
The camera catches the exact frame where it looks like your lips might meet. But the angle is strange.
There's a man in the row in front of you who stands up at the worst possible time. The fan's phone shifts slightly.
When the view clears again, you're both facing forward like nothing happened.
Manon's arm is still around you. You're still tucked under it. No fluster, no laugh, no space created.
Just normal. Which makes it worse. Because if it had been accidental, awkward, platonic — there would've been a reaction.
Instead, you adjust your sleeve. She squeezes your shoulder once and you both continue watching the game.
The fan filming is scream yelling now, 'Did they just—?'
The camera shakes before the clip ends.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: am I insane or did they literally almost kiss
1M likes 563.7k replies
chatter02: they turned at the same time that’s not random
176k likes 35.2k replies
chatter03: I slowed it down to 0.25 and their noses TOUCH
54k likes 9k replies
chatter04: pause at 00:07. her head tilts. HEAD. TILTS
76.1k likes 4.3k replies
chatter05: the person recording is lucky to have witnessed this live
39k likes 2k replies
---
📹Clip Four📹
(The Pinata Incident) - 689.1k Views
The video once again starts shaky.
Someone in the crowd is laughing as they try to focus their phone, zooming in too far and then pulling back. The stage lights are bright whites and golds washing over everything as the cheers are deafening.
A brightly coloured pinata is being hauled out onstage. The crowd is losing it.
You can barely hear the girls over the screaming, but the context is obvious. The pinata sways slightly as a staff member steadies it, the giant stick already being passed around.
A fan behind the camera yells, 'TRES TURNOS!' And the people around them cheer.
The first few hits go by in a blur of laughter, dramatic swings as the pinata barely moves. Every miss is met with exaggerated reactions and mock despair.
The camera wobbles as it tracks movement.
Then its Sophia's turn. She steps forward confidently, gripping the oversized stick with both hands. The pinata hangs slightly off centre, and from this angle, its immediately clear — she's standing way too close to the rest of you.
You're off to the side with Megan and Manon, half watching, half laughing, bodies angled casually toward the crowd. None of you seem concerned. Yet.
Sophia winds up. And from the fan's perspective, the angle is terrifying.
The stick arcs back—and for a split second, it looks like she’s about to take out all three of you in one swing.
There’s an audible gasp from the crowd near the camera.
Your face changes instantly. Pure, unfiltered terror. Your eyes widen, mouth dropping open as your brain clearly screams oh no.
Megan’s expression mirrors yours—eyes huge, shoulders tensing as she instinctively ducks.
Manon just completely freezes. Her hands come up uselessly, half defensive, half confused, like her body hasn't decided whether to run or accept her fate.
Sophia swings. You react without thinking. Your hand shoots out, grabbing Manon by the arm and yanking her sharply toward you. With your other hand, you push Megan back by the shoulders, guiding her out of the swing's path just in case.
The crowd shrieks, half with fear, half with laughter.
Manon, instead of moving away — steps directly behind you.
The fan filming loses it. 'OH MY GOD—' They laugh breathlessly as the camera shakes even more now.
Manon presses herself against your back, hands gripping your stage outfit like you’re a shield. She peeks over your shoulder, eyes wide, watching Sophia like she’s handling live explosives.
You plant your feet instinctively, body angled protectively, one arm still out like you’re her personal barrier.
Megan stumbles back into frame, staring at you both. 'MANON?' She clearly mouths, incredulous.
But Manon doesn't move.
Sophia's swing misses everything. The stick just whistling through the air close enough that the threat feels real.
You turn your head slightly, saying something to Manon that the mic doesn't catch, but the tone is obvious from your expression — are you serious right now?
Manon responds by pressing closer. She laughs nervously, face half hidden behind your shoulder, clearly unashamed. One hands pats your side like she's congratulating herself on an excellent survival strategy.
Megan points at her, laughing now. 'Wow.'
Sophia finally looks over, realising what almost happened. Her eyes widen as she immediately lowers the stick, horrified.
'Oh—oh, sorry!' She says into her mic, audible this time.
You gesture wildly with your free hand like, you almost murdered us. Manon stays exactly where she is.
The fan zooms in dramatically. 'Manon said HUMAN SHIELD.' The person filming wheezes.
The video ends with Manon still behind you, chin nearly on your shoulder, smiling sheepishly at the audience like she’s proud of her choice.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: THE WAY THEY ALL FLINCHED 😭
78.7k likes 4k replies
chatter02: that wasn’t choreographed that was SURVIVAL
143k likes 88k replies
chatter03: the way y/n didnt even think twice and grabbed manon like it was a life or death situation
564k likes 96.3k replies
chatter04: oh to be yanked by y/n like that...
433.1k likes 49.2k replies
chatter05: you can hide behind me manon, ill even pay you to
32k likes 1.1k replies
---
📹Clip Five📹
(Her irrational fear is what?!) 789.3K Views
The livestream is already chaotic, but in a comfortable way.
You, Manon, and Daniela are sitting cross-legged on the floor of your apartment, backs against the couch. The lighting is soft, phone propped up as the comments are flying too fast to read.
Daniela is mid-story about almost slipping on stage when Manon interrupts to read a question.
'Okay, wait — this is interesting,' she says, squinting at the screen. 'What’s your most irrational fear?'
Daniela answers first. 'Mine is birds flying too close to my face,' she says immediately. 'Like I know they’re just existing but why are you existing near me?'
You laugh.
Manon nods thoughtfully. 'Mine is escalators eating my shoelaces.'
Daniela bursts out laughing. 'That is so specific.'
'So fair though.' You nod in agreement.
Then they both look at you.
You hesitate.
There’s a tiny pause before you answer.
'Okay, don’t judge me,' you say. 'But I have this thing where I’m scared someone’s hacked into my phone and is watching me through the camera.'
There’s a beat. A full second of silence.
Daniela blinks. Then she laughs. Not mean. Not cruel. Just immediate.
'No one wants to watch you that bad!' She says, still giggling.
You see the chat explode instantly, comments flying by quicker than you can read.
You try to laugh it off, but you shrink slightly where you’re sitting. Shoulders tucking in. You wave your hand dismissively.
'I know it’s irrational,' you say quickly. 'That’s the point.'
Daniela keeps smiling. 'Like imagine some hacker just watching you scroll at 2am.'
You roll your eyes, embarrassed now.
And then Manon speaks. 'Hey.'
It’s soft, but firm enough that Daniela stops laughing.
Manon shifts slightly closer to you without making a show of it. 'That’s not weird,' she says. 'A lot of people are scared of that.'
Daniela looks between you both, grin fading a little.
Manon keeps going. 'Privacy stuff is scary,' she shrugs. 'It’s not dumb.'
You glance at her. The camera catches it — that half-second look.
Manon doesn’t make it dramatic. She doesn’t overdo it. She just nudges your knee lightly with hers.
'And if anyone was watching,' she adds casually, 'they’d be bored.'
That makes you laugh. A real one this time.
You bump your shoulder into hers. 'Wow. Thanks.'
'I’m saying you’re not doing anything embarrassing.' She clarifies, deadpan.
Daniela laughs again, lighter now. 'Okay, that was kind of sweet.'
The chat is moving too fast to read, but fans later slow it down.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: the way she said ‘hey.’ immediately
87.4k likes 9k replies
chatter02: why did that make me emotional though
21k likes 901 replies
chatter03: Daniela laughed. Manon didn’t
189k likes 7.6k replies
↳ chatter04: THIS
93k likes
chatter05: such a real fear to have tho
158.3k likes 14k replies
chatter06: adding this to my compilation of 'times Manon had Y/N's back'
100.1k likes 18k replies
---
📹Clip Six📹
(Slimed) 1.1M Views
The video starts mid-scream. Not from the stage, but from the crowd.
The fan filming is already laughing because everyone knew it was coming. The hosts had been teasing it all night. The giant cannons are visible at the sides of the stage, neon green tanks glowing under orange lights.
'IT’S GONNA HAPPEN—' Someone yells near the phone.
You’re all almost finished singing the clean version of 'Gnarly,' breathless and smiling, hyped from the crowd. The stage is bright, Nickelodeon orange and lime, graphics bouncing across the screens behind you.
You look suspicious already. Manon glances toward the wings.
The cannons fire and it’s instant chaos.
A tidal wave of neon green slime pours from above and blasts from the sides at the same time. The crowd shrieks. The fan camera jerks violently upward, then back down, catching nothing but a wall of green.
For a full second, you all disappear.
When the stage comes back into view, everyone is drenched. Hair plastered down. Outfits soaked. Slime dripping off elbows and chins and lashes.
The crowd is losing their minds.
You try to laugh. But the fan filming zooms in because you’re not laughing like the others.
You’re blinking rapidly. Too rapidly. The slime got you straight in the face.
You cough once, then again — sharper. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to wipe your eyes, your nose, your mouth all at once. It’s thick. Sticky. It looks like you can’t get a proper breath in.
From the edge of the frame, Manon appears immediately.
Not dramatic. Not exaggerated.
Immediate.
She doesn’t play to the crowd. Doesn’t throw her arms up or spin for the cameras like the others are doing.
She goes straight to you. The fan camera zooms harder, shaky but focused now.
Manon grabs your wrist gently to stop your hands from smearing it worse across your face.
'Hold on.' You can faintly read her mouth say.
Her other hand comes up to your chin, steadying you. She wipes her hand on her outfit before using her fingers to quickly swipe across your mouth, clearing the thickest layer so you can breathe.
You cough again as she moves closer. Too close for performance choreography. Too close for stage spacing.
One hand tilts your face up slightly, thumb carefully swiping under your nose. Not glamorous. Not cute. Just practical.
She checks your eyes next. Brushes slime away from your lashes with careful fingers, slower now.
The music is still playing. The others are still dancing around you, laughing, hyping the crowd.
But right in the centre of the stage, there’s this small, focused bubble.
The fan filming whispers, breathless, 'Oh my god. Oh my god, she’s literally making sure she can breathe.'
You finally inhale properly. Your shoulders drop. Manon doesn’t step away yet. She leans closer, says something else — low, quick. You nod.
Only then does she shift. Her hand slides from your jaw to the small of your back. Firm. Guiding.
Not pushing. Guiding.
She turns her own body outward slightly, creating a barrier as she walks you toward the side of the stage. Between you and the crowd. Between you and the still-dripping slime cannons.
You’re half laughing now, embarrassed, wiping at your cheeks. She keeps her hand there. All the way until you’re safely off the main centre mark.
The fan camera catches the last part before cutting off. You glance up at her, still blinking green from your lashes.
Manon squeezes your shoulder once. Quick and grounding.
Then she finally turns back to the stage like nothing happened.
The clip goes viral within hours. Not because of the slime. There are hundreds of slime angles. But this one gets replayed the most.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: she didn’t even look at the crowd she went straight to her 😭
73.2k likes 812 replies
chatter02: her hand stayed at her back the whole way off stage. the WHOLE way
22.2k likes 91 replies
chatter03: everyone else was hyping the slime. Manon was doing a safety check
505.1k likes 10.3k replies
chatter04: gf instincts kicked
512k likes 11k replies
chatter05: you can literally see the moment she registers something’s wrong. her whole posture changes
901k likes 81.3k replies
---
📹Clip Seven📹
(?!?!) 432.8K Views
The video starts quietly. No screaming this time. No zoomed chaos.
Just the soft clink of ceramic and low indie music playing overhead.
A fan is filming discreetly from behind a plant near the window. 'Guys,' she whispers, 'I'm 99% sure that's them.'
The camera shifts slightly. You're standing at the counter of a small coffee shop. Hoodie on, hair down, no glam. Just off duty comfortable.
Manon is behind you. Not beside you. Behind you.
Her arms are fully wrapped around your waist. Not loose, not playful, not a casual side hug.
Fully wrapped.
Her fingers laced loosely over your stomach with her chin resting on your shoulder like it belongs there.
You don't look surprised by it. You lean back into her without thinking, weight setting naturally against her chest while you scan the menu board.
The barista asks something. You tilt your head toward Manon. She murmurs something into your ear, too quiet to hear.
You smile.
The fan filming audibly exhales as she zooms in a little more.
You reach into your purse for your phone.
Manon doesn't let go of you. She just shifts one arm enough to free her hand, already pulling her own phone from her pocket.
Before you can even lift your phone out the purse, she leans around you — still half wrapped around your waist — and taps her phone to the reader.
You pause mid-motion, looking back at her.
From the angle of the camera, it looks like you say, 'I was going to—'
She shrugs slightly, chin still on your shoulder. Her arms tighten again once the payment goes through.
Not performative. Not exaggerated.
Comfortable.
The kind of hold you forget is unusual.
You both wait for your drinks like that. Swaying slightly, your hands resting over hers.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: am I looking at a couple or am I losing my mind
186k likes 12.2k replies
↳ chatter02: I’ve tried to recreate that stance with my best friend. It felt illegal
31.7k likes
chatter03: soft launch final boss
19.5k likes 2.1k replies
chatter04: they forgot they were in public... again
165.1k likes 9k replies
chatter05: manon swiping before y/n can even get her phone out???
8.3k likes 837 replies
chatter06: theyre my moms
201.4k likes 54k replies
---
📹Clip Eight📹
(photo dump) 2.1M Likes 25.8M Views
Photo 1:
The first photo is Manon in a mirror selfie. Low lighting, flash reflecting off the glass. Her hair is slightly messy, oversized jacket slipping off one shoulder. The captionless confidence she's known for.
Photo 2:
A blurry group shot of Manon and a few close friends sitting around a table late at night at a restaurant. Empty glasses, half eaten fries as the table is cluttered with plates while everyone is mid-laugh.
Photo 3:
Manon and her close friend Sophie cheek to cheek, both pulling ridiculous faces at the camera. Sophie's hand is squishing Manon's cheek while Manon tries to shove her away, both clearly losing the battle against laughter.
Photo 4:
You and Manon standing side by side outside somewhere dimly lit, probably the restaurant or a back alley somewhere. Nothing unusual, just a regular pose. Your arm loosely around her shoulders. Her hand around your waist with her hand in your back pocket. Both of you smiling at whoever took the picture.
Photo 5:
This one looks almost accidental. Manon is lying fully on top of you across a couch. Her back pressed against your chest, one arm flopped over her head, legs tangled with yours like she just collapsed there and never moved again.
You're half reclined under her, head tilted slightly to the side. Both of you look completely asleep. The room behind you is dim, a couple of friends blurred in the background.
The last slide is a video. Five seconds, maybe six.
Manon and Sophie are standing in front of the camera just messing around—dancing badly, bumping shoulders and laughing too loudly. The camera shakes because whoever is filming is laughing hysterically.
Behind them, slightly out of focus, you're standing with a few friends. A bottle of water in one hand while the fingers on your other hand are hooked loosely through Manon's belt loop.
Not gripping. Not pulling. Just there, like its the most natural thing in the world. Like you've done it a thousand times before.
Manon spins while laughing at something Sophie says and steps backwards without looking. She bumps lightly into you.
Instead of moving away, she stays there for half a second, shoulders relaxed against you, like she already knew you'd be there.
You never look back to see who it is, you just keep talking as the video then loops on repeat.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: manon just casually lying on y/n like that ?
75k likes 2.3k replies
chatter02: that’s the 'don’t wander off' hold and you cannot convince me otherwise
101.1k likes 7k replies
chatter03: where do i apply to be part of this friend group
103k likes 7.9k replies
chatter04: WHY IS EVERYONE FREAKING OUT, WHAT'D I MISS?!?!
55.3k likes 12.8k replies
↳ chatter05: last slide, bottom left 😭
95.3k likes
↳ chatter04: oh... OH MY GOD???
91k likes
chatter06: my emotional journey through this post:😃🤗🤨😱🫠💀
369.3k likes 87.1k replies
---
📹Clip Nine📹
(Rehearsal Livestream – Break Time Games) 6.6M Views
The livestream wasn’t supposed to turn into chaos. It was meant to be a simple break during rehearsal.
The camera is propped up against a water bottle at the edge of the practice room floor, angled wide enough to catch all of you sitting in a loose circle.
Dance mirrors line the walls. The bright overhead lights reflect off the polished floor. Towels, jackets, and water bottles are scattered everywhere.
Daniela had brought the Uno cards. Which, in hindsight, was the first mistake.
'You can’t stack a four on a four!' Yoonchae argues, leaning halfway across the circle.
Sophia flips through the little instruction leaflet like she’s suddenly the official referee. 'Technically…'
Megan groans. 'Oh my god, just play.'
The game continues anyway.
The chat is racing by in the corner of the screen as fans watch the chaos unfold.
You’re doing surprisingly well. Until you’re not. Three turns later, your hand is full of cards again.
'Uh oh.' Lara sings.
You glare at her.
Manon, sitting cross-legged beside you, glances at your cards.
Her eyebrows lift slowly. Then she covers her mouth.
You immediately narrow your eyes. 'Don’t react like that.'
She shakes her head quickly, already smiling. 'I didn’t say anything.'
Two rounds later, Daniela slams her final card down. 'UNO!'
Sophia groans. Megan claps loudly.
Lara immediately points at you. 'Last place!'
You look down at your hand. Then up at the girls. Then back at the cards like they might suddenly rearrange themselves.
'You all set me up.' You mutter.
'No we didn’t!' Daniela protests through laughter.
'You absolutely did.'
Manon leans back on her hands, watching you with clear amusement.
'Punishment time.'
From somewhere behind the practice speakers, Megan drags out a crinkling plastic bag.
Your stomach drops instantly. 'No.'
'Oh, yes.' She says cheerfully.
You peer inside the bag. Then immediately close it again.
'No.'
'It’s the rule.' Lara reminds you.
Daniela is already clapping excitedly. 'Put it on! Put it on!'
The chat is flying now. You sigh like someone about to accept their fate.
'Oh my god, this is gonna get clipped.'
There’s a jump cut in the clip. When it resumes, the camera has been moved slightly closer. You stand in the middle of the rehearsal room. Inside an inflatable dinosaur costume.
Bright green. Round in the middle. Ridiculously oversized head attached above yours.
A small fan hums quietly as the suit inflates fully. The girls lose it instantly. Daniela drops sideways onto the floor laughing.
Yoonchae has both hands over her mouth. Sophia actually has to step away from the camera because she’s shaking so hard.
'You look amazing.' Lara manages.
You try to cross your arms. The tiny dinosaur arms do not cooperate.
'This is humiliating.'
'You agreed to the punishment.' Megan reminds you.
You try to walk. The costume waddles more than it walks. Every step makes the inflatable body bounce slightly.
Manon has gone very quiet again. Which is suspicious.
You turn toward her slowly. She’s staring at you. Not laughing. Just staring.
'You’re not allowed to enjoy this.' You warn.
She stands up. Walks over. Pokes the inflatable stomach. The suit squeaks softly under her finger. She does it again.
You close your eyes briefly. 'Manon.'
'It’s so squishy.' She says, clearly delighted.
She presses both hands against the round middle this time. The costume compresses slightly before puffing back out again. The room erupts with laughter again.
'You’re going to pop it!' Megan wheezes.
Manon ignores her. She squeezes the inflatable arm next. Then the tail.
You try to step backwards. The dinosaur feet make that… difficult.
'You’re harassing me.' You accuse.
'I’m appreciating the costume.'
She pokes the stomach again. You attempt to sit down in defeat. Which is a mistake.
Because the moment you sit, the oversized dinosaur head tilts forward completely.
Your vision disappears.
'I can’t see.' You announce immediately.
The girls start screaming.
'You look like a tipped-over balloon!' Daniela cries.
You try to lift the dinosaur head. The inflatable body wobbles instead.
Manon crouches in front of you. You can’t see her. But the chat definitely can.
Because she gently pushes the dinosaur head back up so your face is visible again through the little plastic window.
'There.' She says softly.
Then, because apparently she cannot help herself, she presses both hands against the inflatable belly again.
Your head falls back slightly as the costume squeaks. 'Stop touching it!'
'I like it.'
'You’ve touched it eight times!'
'Nine.' She corrects.
The girls are losing their minds now.
Megan grabs Sophia’s arm. 'Look at her!'
Manon doesn’t move her hands though. Instead she lightly leans forward and rests her chin against the round inflatable stomach like it’s a cushion.
You freeze. 'Manon.'
'Hm?'
'You’re making this worse.'
She smiles slowly. 'I think it’s making it better.'
The chat explodes. The clip cuts there.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: WHY IS MANON PETTING Y/N LIKE A CAT
682k likes 22k replies
chatter02: that is NOT normal bandmate behaviour 😭
214k likes 6.1k replies
chatter03: they forgot they were live again
1.4M likes 103k replies
chatter04: manon being awful touchy
101.3k likes 43k replies
chatter05: awwwww y/n makes a cute dino
1M likes 654k replies
---
📹Clip Ten, Part One📹
(someone's in trouble) - 13.9M Views
The video starts with screaming.
Not angry screaming. Tour screaming.
Fans are packed tight against barricades outside the minibus, phones raised high. The bus windows are tinted, but not fully. With the right angle and the light on inside, you can see in quite clearly.
Someone zooms in. 'There—there they are!'
All of you are inside, still in makeup but sporting comfy wear. The bus hasn't moved yet as security are still trying to clear a path.
Through the glass, Manon is visible first.
And she does not look happy.
Her posture is rigid. Jaw tight, brows drawn down as her body is leaning forward as she stands, talking sharply toward Megan across the aisle.
The person filming sucks in a breath. 'Why does she look mad?'
The camera zooms closer.
Manon gestures toward the window. Once. Twice. Her hand cuts through the air in frustrated motions. Megan responds, looking confused, trying to see what she's pointing at.
You're beside Manon. Close. Your hand on her forearm. Not restraining. Grounding.
From the outside of the bus, though? It looks like tension.
Manon says something again — fast and intense. Her mouth moves in clipped syllables as she shakes her head hard.
You lean closer to her, saying something low near her ear.
She exhales sharply.
Fans outside start speculating in real time.
'Are they fighting?'
'Why is she yelling?'
'Is something wrong?'
The clip ends with Manon pressing her palm briefly to her forehead, clearly upset, before security finally clears the path and the bus pulls away.
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: why does manon look actually mad???
202.1k likes 8.9k replies
chatter02: am I the only one who thinks she was yelling at Megan?
489.3k likes 55.6k replies
↳ chatter03: please don’t start narratives from a 10 second clip.
559.4k likes
chatter04: she looked stressed. like genuinely stressed
93.4k likes 7.1k replies
chatter05: must be bad if y/n's tryna calm her down
21k likes 943 replies
chatter06: someone tag that lipreader girl, we need her desperately
1.1M likes 874k replies
📹Clip Ten, Part Two📹
(rip my notifs, y'all asked for this) 21.8M Views
The screen is split in half.
On the left: the original tour bus clip. Grainy, tinted glass, fans screaming outside.
On the right: a girl in soft lighting, hair tied back with a neutral expression holding a small microphone.
Further detail in the caption reads: 'Okay, y'all really wanted to know what was being said in this clip. I think we misunderstood this.'
3.6M likes 241.8k replies
The video starts playing. She pauses immediately. 'First of all,' she says gently, 'I've done live event lip reading for a few years. I'm not perfect by any means, but I'm pretty confident here.'
She zooms in on Manon pointing toward the window. Replays it at 0.5 speed.
On screen text appears as she mouths it along with her: 'There's a guy shoving them.'
She pauses again. 'Notice she's not looking at Megan when she says this. She's looking outside.'
Replay.
Manon's jaw is tight. Gesture sharp.
Subtitle overlay: 'He was pushing people, including kids!'
The lip reader nods slightly. 'She's upset. But it's outward frustration. Not internal.'
The clip continues. Manon shakes her head.
Subtitle: 'Don't sign for him.'
The lip reader explains, 'She says 'don't sign for him' and then something like 'he's not even a fan.'
Replay.
Manon's mouth clearly forms: 'He's going to resell it.'
The lip reader slows it again, this time focusing on you.
'Y/N is talking here.' She says, circling your face lightly on screen.
She rewinds.
You lean in toward Manon, your hand on her forearm.
Subtitle appears: 'Security saw him.'
Replay.
You again: 'They caught him.'
The lip reader looks back at the camera. 'Y/N is calming her down.'
The original clip continues as Manon presses her palm to her forehead.
Lip reader pauses. 'She says—'
Replay.
'I don't want them getting hurt.'
There's a beat of silence. Even through the split screen, it hits.
The lip reader exhales softly. 'She's not mad at the girls. She's mad at the situation.'
She rewinds one last time to the moment your hand stays on her arm. 'She doesn't pull away from this. She leans into it.'
Replay shows Manon's shoulders relaxing slightly after you speak.
Subtitle; Y/N: 'They're okay.'
Manon: 'Okay.'
The duet ends with the lip reader saying, 'Context matters. That's all.'
Top comments under the video:
chatter01: she was mad FOR the fans
98.6k likes 12k replies
chatter02: can we talk about y/n calming her down though…
143.1k likes 45k replies
↳ chatter03: get your parasocial ass outta here
150k likes
↳ chatter02: let me live my delulu life in peace
167k likes
↳ chatter03: be so fr you don’t even know them
54k likes
↳ chatter02: let me have this bro
101k likes
chatter04: this is why outside perspective can be so misleading
546k likes 132k replies
chatter05: everyone owes manon an apology idc
999.8k likes 87k replies
chatter06: CONTEXT MATTERS!
1M likes 45k replies
Summary: When Katseye visits Trinidad, your home, for promo, you reunite with Megan and show the girls your world of skateboards, Spider-Man, and island life—between beach picnics, doubles stands, and secret gifts, laughter and clingy affection make the days unforgettable.
Pairings: idol!megan x nonidol!reader
Warning(s): mild language / mild romantic and sexual content / fluff / jealous Megan
A/N: i hope ive used the trini lingo correctly through this. if i haven't, feel free to let me know :)
You're from Trinidad. Not just born there. Rooted there.
Trinidad and Tobago lives in your bones — in the rhythm of your walk, the sway of your hips when music plays from a passing car, the way your voice lifts at the end of a sentence without you meaning to.
You grew up just outside Port of Spain, where the air is thick with heat and seasoning and laughter that carries down whole streets. Where aunties sit outside in plastic chairs and knows everybody's business. Where somebody's always blasting soca from somewhere, even on a random Tuesday afternoon.
You love it loud. You love it alive. And you love it on four wheels.
Your skateboard is scratched up, sun-faded, grip tape worn smooth where your feet land every time. You could drive. You just don’t. Because skating feels like flying.
When you bomb a hill, curls tied back, tank top clinging to your skin from the heat, headphones blasting through one ear, the world narrows to pavement and balance. The board hums beneath you. The wind presses against your chest. Your body leans and adjusts without thinking.
It’s freedom you don’t have to explain.
People on the sidewalk shout, 'Careful, gyul!' You grin and fly past anyway.
Skating is yours. So is Spider-Man. You don’t just like Spider-Man. You love him.
Every movie. Every reboot. Every timeline. You’ve seen them all — in theatres, at home, twice, three times, doesn’t matter. You know the lines before they’re said. You know the soundtrack cues before they hit.
But your favourite? That’s… complicated.
You always say it’s Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man. You say it confidently too, like the answer has always been there. Like the debate is already settled.
But if you’re being honest with yourself… it’s never been that simple. Because there’s also Tobey Maguire. And that’s where the problem starts.
You grew up loving Spider-Man long before you ever thought about picking favourites. Sitting cross-legged on the cool tile floor in your house, the fan humming above you while the afternoon heat pressed against the windows. The TV glowing in the dim living room while Tobey Maguire swung through New York.
That version of Peter Parker felt… real. Awkward. Quiet. Gentle in a way that made you want to protect him even though he was the one saving everyone else. The kind of hero who carried the whole world on his shoulders and never complained about it.
You loved that.
You’d run outside afterwards with your skateboard, the pavement still warm from the sun, trying to land tricks while pretending the road beneath you was a web line stretched between buildings. In your head you weren’t just skating.
You were swinging. Jumping. Landing like Spider-Man himself.
But then there was Andrew Garfield. And suddenly Spider-Man felt different. Louder. Softer somehow too. The way his voice cracked when he was scared but still stepped forward anyway. The way he joked even when things were falling apart. The way he looked at Gwen like she was the only thing holding the universe together.
The yearning. The grief. The love that was so obvious it almost hurt to watch.
You always say Andrew is your favourite. You really do. But every time someone asks the question, Tobey Maguire quietly shows up in the back of your mind like, 'Really?'
And you hesitate. Just for a second. Because honestly? Choosing between them feels a little like choosing between two different versions of the same feeling.
And somewhere between the hot streets of Trinidad, your scuffed skateboard wheels, and years of dreaming about being Spider-Man, you’re not sure you’ve ever truly decided.
You’ve skated down Ariapita Avenue listening to the soundtrack from The Amazing Spider-Man like you were swinging between skyscrapers instead of dodging potholes and maxi taxis. You’ve stood on rooftops just to feel the wind and pretend.
Spider-Man taught you something important. You can love your city fiercely. You can be soft and still strong. You can belong somewhere without shrinking yourself.
And maybe that’s why when Megan entered your life, it felt like a multiverse shift.
You met her in Hawaii when you were ten. Your family tried to travel when they could — new place every year if money allowed. That year it was beaches and volcanoes and sunburns in a different hemisphere.
She was there with her family too, obviously since she lives there. You saw her first. Small, focused and covered in sand.
The ocean kept knocking down the sandcastle she was building, and she refused to move it higher up the shore.
You stood there for a second, watching. Then you said, 'Yuh fighting the sea and losing, eh.'
She looked up at you like you had personally offended her ancestors. 'I’m not losing.'
'You is.'
She narrowed her eyes. You grinned.
By the end of the afternoon, you were both soaked and laughing and rebuilding the castle together — this time higher up the beach. She was stubborn. You were competitive. It worked.
You learned her name that day. Megan. She learned yours. That was it.
Every year after that became tradition. One year, you’d fly to Hawaii. The next year, she’d come to Trinidad.
The first time she visited your island, she stepped off the plane and immediately said, 'Why does it feel like the sun is closer here?'
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your board.
You showed her everything. Maracas Beach. Doubles on the side of the road. The way the mountains look when the sun starts to set and everything turns gold.
You taught her how to skate on quieter streets, hands wrapped around her waist when she wobbled. She clung to you, laughing and terrified.
She taught you how to swim better in deeper water. You pretended you weren’t scared when the waves got rough.
Every year, back and forth. Hawaii. Trinidad. Hawaii. Trinidad.
You grew taller. She grew braver. Somewhere between childhood and fourteen, her hand started lingering in yours longer than necessary.
Somewhere between fifteen and sixteen, you realised the way she looked at you wasn’t just friendship. And somewhere between sixteen and seventeen, she stopped coming as often.
She got accepted into a program. Something serious. Something big. Dream Academy. Training. Long hours. No time off.
You remember the first year she didn’t come to Trinidad. You skated alone that day. You didn’t tell anyone why you were quiet.
You just put on your Spider-Man playlist and flew down the hills harder than usual, like you could outrun the ache in your chest.
But she didn’t disappear. She called when she could. Texted at ridiculous hours. Sent voice notes where she sounded exhausted but still smiled through it.
And when she finally came back — older, sharper, carrying the weight of ambition in her posture — she still melted the second she saw you waiting at the airport with your skateboard tucked under your arm.
You were never just the island girl to her. You were home.
And now? She’s not just the stubborn little girl from a Hawaiian beach. She’s your girlfriend. Idol-in-training turned star. Busy. Scheduled. Gone more than you like.
But when she comes back to Trinidad — when she wraps her arms around your waist like she’s claiming territory — you remember something simple.
You were here first. Before the cameras. Before the stages. Before the world knew her name.
And no matter how big her universe gets, you’re still the gyul from Trini who makes her fold.
---
It happens the summer you’re sixteen.
The air in Trinidad and Tobago feels thicker that year. Like the heat is sitting heavier on your shoulders. Like something is about to shift and the island knows before you do.
Megan is there for her turn. Hawaii last year had been easy — familiar beaches, her world, her comfort zone. But Trinidad is yours. Always has been.
And she’s different this time. Not in a bad way. Just… taller. Quieter in certain moments. More aware.
You notice it the first night she arrives. She steps out of the airport in loose shorts and a hoodie she definitely regrets immediately because the humidity attacks her on contact.
'God, it feels like I walked into someone’s mouth.' She complains, fanning herself.
You laugh, grab her suitcase with one hand and your skateboard with the other. 'Welcome home, Megs.'
Home. You say it without thinking. She freezes for half a second before smiling. That should’ve been your first clue.
A few days later, you take her up to the overlook. It’s one of your spots. Not touristy. Not crowded. Just a quiet hill where you can see the edges of Port of Spain stretching toward the water. The sky always looks wider up there.
You skate part of the way. She walks beside you, bumping your shoulder every time you get too close to the edge of the road.
'You’re going to die one day.' She mutters.
'You dramatic.'
'I’m serious.'
'Yuh just jealous yuh can’t balance.'
She shoves you lightly. But when you offer her the board, she takes it. You stand behind her, hands hovering near her waist as she places one foot on the deck. She wobbles instantly.
'Relax,' you murmur. 'Yuh stiff.'
'I am not stiff.'
'You is.'
She huffs. You step closer. Your hands settle on her waist.
It’s not the first time you’ve held her like this. You’ve taught her to skate for years now. But something about it feels different. Your palms are more aware. Her breathing shifts.
You guide her forward slowly. 'One foot, yuh push. Easy.'
She does. The board rolls. She squeaks — actually squeaks — and grabs your wrist. You both laugh, the sound echoing down the quiet road. She makes it maybe ten feet before stepping off.
'You’re evil.' She says, breathless.
'Yuh love it.'
She looks at you. And doesn’t look away. The air changes.
You don’t know how to describe it. The sky is still pink from sunset. The breeze still smells like salt and car exhaust and somebody cooking curry somewhere down the hill. But suddenly it feels like you’re the only two people in Trinidad.
'You’ve changed.' She says softly.
You tilt your head. 'How?'
'You’re… braver.'
You snort. 'I'm always brave.'
'No. You were loud.' She steps closer. 'This... this is different.'
'And you?' You counter. 'You bossy.'
She rolls her eyes. 'I was always bossy.'
'Yeah. But now you serious about tings.'
Her mouth presses into a line. You notice it then — the weight behind her eyes. The ambition forming. The hunger.
'I auditioned for something.' She blurts.
You blink. 'What someting?'
She hesitates. 'A training program. For music. It’s intense.'
Your stomach drops before you can stop it. 'How intense?'
'If I get in… I’d have to train year-round. Travel. Maybe move.'
You stare at her like she just said she’s leaving the planet. 'For how long?'
'I don’t know.'
The word hangs between you. You look out over the city. The lights are flickering on now. The world feels steady. Familiar. Safe.
She wouldn’t be.
'Is it what you want?' You ask quietly.
'Yes.' No hesitation. That hurts more than it should.
You nod slowly. 'Den yuh should do it.'
She studies your face, searching for something — anger, maybe. Or hurt. You give her neither.
You’ve always loved Spider-Man for one reason above all. Loving someone means letting them become who they’re meant to be. Even if it scares you.
'You’re not even mad.' She whispers.
'Ah don’t own yuh.'
'I know but—'
'But nuttin,' you cut in gently. 'If yuh get in, yuh go. Chase it nah. Ah go still be here.'
There’s that word again. Here.
She steps forward until your toes almost touch. 'You make it sound easy.'
'It not.' You admit.
Silence. The breeze picks up. Her hair brushes her cheek. Without thinking, you reach up and tuck it behind her ear. Your hand lingers. Her breath catches. Your heart starts pounding so loud you’re sure she can hear it.
'You know,' she says, voice barely there, 'every year I count down until it’s your turn.'
You swallow. 'What?'
'To visit you.' She laughs nervously. 'I tell myself I just like travelling. But that’s not true.'
Your pulse is everywhere. 'What’s true then?'
She steps even closer. 'Don’t laugh at me.'
You almost smile. 'I never laugh at yuh.'
'Yes you do.'
'Only when yuh deserve it.'
She huffs softly, then her expression shifts — vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen. 'I don’t want to just be your vacation person.' She says.
The words land like a spark.
'Den don’t.' You reply, barely breathing.
Her hand finds yours. Not playful. Not accidental. Intentional. Your fingers intertwine. You feel it everywhere.
'I think,' she says slowly, 'I’ve liked you for a long time.'
Your chest tightens. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah.'
You nod once. 'Took you long enough.'
She lets out a shaky laugh. 'And you?' She asks.
You look at her like she’s crazy. 'Megan.'
She waits.
You squeeze her hand. 'Ah gone from since dat sandcastle.'
Her eyes soften. And then she kisses you. It’s not dramatic. Not movie-perfect. It’s soft. A little unsure. Salt air and nervous laughter and sixteen-year-old hearts beating too fast.
Her lips are warm. Your hands settle on her waist without thinking. When she pulls back, she’s smiling like she just discovered gravity works differently around you.
'So,' she whispers, 'does this make you my girlfriend?'
You raise an eyebrow. 'Yuh askin’ meh or tellin’ meh?'
'I’m asking.'
You pretend to think about it for a full five seconds.
She groans. 'Don’t be annoying.'
You grin. 'Yeah,' you say finally. 'Ah yuh gyal.'
The city lights glow below you. The future looms somewhere out there — auditions, training, distance. But in this moment? She’s just Megan. The girl from the beach. The one who finally stopped fighting the tide. And chose you instead.
---
She gets in. Of course she does.
You know before she even says it. The way her voice shakes on the phone. The way she keeps saying, 'So… um,' like she’s stalling.
'I got accepted.' She finally blurts.
You’re sitting on your bedroom floor in Trinidad and Tobago, back against your bed, skateboard lying beside you like it’s listening too. For half a second, you can’t speak. Then you grin. 'Yeah yuh did.'
She starts crying. You don’t. You’re too busy memorising the sound of her breathing before it becomes something you only hear through speakers.
The first long-distance call after she leaves is worse. Time zones feel personal. Schedules feel cruel. She calls you from a dim dorm room, hair tied back, exhaustion carved under her eyes.
'They’re intense,' she admits. 'It’s like… all day. Singing. Dancing. Evaluations.'
'You eatin'?' You ask immediately.
She rolls her eyes. 'Yes, Mom.'
'Doh play wid meh.'
She smiles softer then. 'I miss you.'
You look at the ceiling so she doesn’t see the way your throat tightens. 'I still here.' You say.
And you are. You’re still skating the same hills. Still blasting Spider-Man soundtracks. Still passing the same doubles stand where the vendor asks, 'Where yuh friend from America?'
But now your phone lights up at 2 a.m. sometimes. Now you fall asleep with her voice in your ear. Now loving her means patience.
Two Years Later:
The sun is ruthless today. Not mean. Just honest.
It presses down on your shoulders as you push off your driveway, board rolling smooth beneath your feet. Your curls are tied back, Spider-Man tank top sticking to your skin already.
You cut through the streets outside Port of Spain like muscle memory. Past the fruit stand. Past the old men arguing about cricket. Past the mural someone painted last Carnival.
'Wey, gyul!' Somebody shouts as you glide past.
You lift a hand without slowing down. Freedom tastes like salt and asphalt.
You meet your friends near the beach — Kai already there, sitting on the low wall with sunglasses on and his board across his lap.
Kai is built like he plays rugby. Broad shoulders. Faded buzzcut. Permanent unimpressed expression.
Also gay. Very gay. But nobody clocks that at first glance.
He nods at you as you roll up. 'Late.'
'Yuh reach before meh and still bored?' You tease.
He smirks. 'I have standards.'
You bump fists and drop down beside him. The others trickle in, music playing low from someone’s speaker. The ocean glints in the distance. This is your rhythm. Your people. Your island.
After skating for a while — showing off a little because you can — you break off and head toward a small smoothie stall near the edge of the beach road.
The lady there knows you. 'Mango and pineapple?' She asks before you speak.
'Yuh does read minds?' You grin.
She hands it over cold and perfect. You’re leaning against the side of the stall, straw between your teeth, watching the ocean breathe in and out when your phone buzzes.
You glance down casually. And freeze.
Your heart doesn’t speed up anymore when she texts. It drops. Then it launches. You swipe it open.
Megan🖤: Don’t freak out
You immediately freak out.
You: Why yuh saying that first?
Three dots. They disappear. Come back. Disappear again. You can practically see her pacing wherever she is.
Megan🖤: We’re doing international promo next month
Megan🖤: Guess where they just added
Your stomach flips.
You: Don’t play with meh
A picture comes through. It’s a schedule. You zoom in. And there it is. Trinidad. Specifically — your town. You actually gasp out loud.
The smoothie lady looks at you like you’ve seen a ghost. 'Yuh good?'
You can’t even answer her. Your fingers are flying.
You: You lying
You: Tell me you lying
Megan🖤: I would never joke about this
Megan🖤: We’re coming to Trinidad
Megan🖤: For promo
Megan🖤: In your town
You let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a choke.
Kai appears beside you like he sensed chaos. 'What happen?' He asks, peering at your face.
You shove the phone in his direction without thinking. He reads. Raises an eyebrow. 'Oh,' he says slowly. 'So wifey coming home.'
You smack his arm. But you’re grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. She’s coming here. Not just sneaking in for a private visit. Not a rushed two-day holiday. Her. Her bandmates. Her world. Colliding with yours.
Your phone buzzes again.
Megan🖤: I want them to meet you
Megan🖤: I talk about you all the time
Your heart does that dangerous soft thing again.
You: You sure they ready for Trini heat?
Megan🖤: They’re not ready for you
You stare at that text longer than you should.
Kai leans over your shoulder again. 'She corny.'
'She is.' You agree. But your voice is fond.
The ocean crashes gently behind you. The sun glints off the water. Somewhere down the beach someone starts blasting soca louder.
Your girlfriend is coming home. And for the first time, the two halves of your life — island gyul and idol’s girl — are about to meet.
You push off from the stall, board hitting pavement smoothly. You need to skate. You need to move. You need to feel the wind in your face while your chest feels too full.
Because in a few weeks? She’ll be stepping off a plane again. And this time, she won’t just be your Megan. She’ll be Megan — with cameras, with bandmates, with eyes watching.
And you can’t wait to show them exactly where she learned to love loudly.
---
You don’t even think.
The moment you hear her flight has landed, instinct takes over. You grab your skateboard from beside the door, sling your backpack over one shoulder, and push out into the warm afternoon air. The streets of Port of Spain are alive as always—cars passing, music spilling faintly from open windows, the distant scent of salt drifting in from the ocean.
But you barely notice any of it. All you can think about is Megan. Your Megan.
The wheels of your board rattle softly over the pavement as you skate toward the airport, weaving through familiar streets you’ve known your whole life. The wind pushes against your shirt, tangling your curls and drying the thin layer of sweat forming on your skin.
People probably think you’re crazy, skating all the way to the airport instead of calling a taxi. But none of that matters. You just need to see her.
By the time you reach the arrivals terminal, your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. You step off your board and carry it under your arm, trying to catch your breath as you scan the stream of passengers coming through the sliding doors.
And then— You see her. Megan.
She’s walking beside a group of girls you immediately recognise from the videos she’s sent you. Her hair is tied into a messy bun, a big hoodie hanging loosely off her frame despite the heat. One hand grips the strap of her bag while the other pushes stray hair from her face as she looks around the busy curb.
Searching. For you.
The moment her eyes land on you, everything changes. She freezes. For half a second the entire world seems to stop moving.
Then her face lights up in a way you’ve only ever seen when the two of you are alone on video calls late at night.
'Y/N!' She breathes.
You don’t even realise you’ve started moving until your feet are already running. 'Megan!'
Your board clatters to the ground behind you as you close the distance between you, and when you finally reach her, the collision is soft but desperate—arms wrapping around each other instantly like you’re both afraid the other might disappear.
Her face presses into your shoulder, your arms tightening around her waist. For a moment neither of you say anything. You just hold each other. Her hoodie smells faintly like laundry detergent and travel, and when she exhales against your neck, it trembles slightly.
'I missed you.' She whispers.
Not the playful 'missed you' from texts. This one is quiet. Real.
Your chest tightens immediately. 'Miss yuh too, Megs.' You murmur, voice softer than you expected.
She pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still gripping your sides like she doesn’t trust the distance between you even now.
Her eyes scan your face slowly—your curls, your cheeks, the familiar little smile you can’t seem to stop.
'You skated here.' She says suddenly, noticing your abandoned board on the pavement.
You shrug sheepishly. 'Dat obvious.'
Her expression melts into something warm and completely lovestruck. 'You’re insane.'
'Yuh like it, eh?'
'I really do.'
Before you can reply, she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s not rushed or playful like your usual ones. It’s slow. Careful. Like she’s reminding herself you’re actually here.
When you finally pull apart, you both laugh quietly, foreheads touching. And then, you remember where you are.
Behind Megan, the rest of the group has gathered near the curb, watching the entire reunion unfold with various expressions of amusement.
Megan groans softly under her breath. 'Oh my god, I forgot they were there.'
You grin. 'Hi, allyuh.'
Sophia lights up immediately, hand coming up to her chest. 'Wait—your accent? I love your accent.'
That earns a round of laughs.
Megan squeezes your hand and turns back toward them. 'Guys,' she says, still holding onto you like she has no intention of letting go anytime soon, 'this is Y/N, my girlfriend.'
You give a small wave, suddenly aware of the attention. Manon smiles warmly first, offering a polite nod. 'So you’re the famous Y/N.'
Daniela immediately beams and waves enthusiastically. 'We’ve heard so much about you!'
Sophia leans slightly toward Lara and mutters just loud enough for everyone to hear, 'Yeah, mostly Megan saying how much she misses her.'
Megan flushes bright pink. 'Shut up.'
Lara grins. 'Nice to finally meet the person who has Megan smiling at her phone 24/7.'
Yoonchae bows her head politely with a gentle smile. 'It’s really nice to meet you.'
You chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck. 'Nice to meet allyuh too.'
A few feet away, Missy checks her phone and gestures toward the large van waiting nearby. 'Alright girls, we’ve got to get moving.'
Megan’s smile fades slightly. She turns to Missy quickly. 'Hey, um… is it okay if Y/N comes with us? Just for the ride?'
Missy glances at the van, then at the already-packed seats inside. Crew members are squeezed between equipment cases and luggage. She gives Megan an apologetic look. 'I wish we could, but there’s no room. We’re already over capacity.'
Megan bites her lip, clearly disappointed. You squeeze her hand gently. 'It alright.' You say softly.
She looks back at you, eyes still reluctant. 'You sure?'
'Fuh sure. Yuh got work to do.'
Missy nods gratefully before ushering the group toward the van. Megan doesn’t move right away. Instead she steps closer, lowering her voice. 'I’ll text you as soon as we’re done with the first round of promo stuff.' She says.
You smile. 'Ah nah go far.'
Her hands slide into yours again. 'Promise?'
'Promise.'
She leans in, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before reluctantly stepping backward toward the van.
The girls climb inside one by one, waving at you through the open door. 'See you later!' They all call one by one. Then the van door slides shut.
For a moment, Megan presses her hand to the window, eyes locked on yours. You mirror the gesture with a small grin.
Then the van pulls away and the noise of the airport returns, people passing by as if nothing extraordinary just happened. You pick up your skateboard, still smiling to yourself.
You push off toward the road, the wheels humming beneath you as you glide toward the beach.
And even though she’s already gone, your heart still feels full. Because you know that later tonight, you’ll see her again.
---
The sun is dipping low over the water, turning the sky into streaks of orange, pink, and gold that melt into the deep blue of the Caribbean. The heat of the day is finally starting to soften, replaced by that warm evening breeze that rolls in off the ocean.
Your skateboard hums smoothly along the paved path that runs beside the beach, wheels clicking lightly over tiny cracks in the concrete. The smell of saltwater mixes with fried food from the nearby stalls—pepper sauce, fry bake, grilled fish, and something sweet drifting from a vendor selling coconut drops.
This place. Your place.
You slow down when you spot your friends already gathered near the low sea wall where everyone hangs out at sunset. Boards lean against the wall, someone’s portable speaker playing soft soca in the background while waves roll steadily onto the shore.
Kai is there, perched on the wall with one foot resting on his board, sunglasses still on even though the sun is almost gone.
'Finally reach, eh?' He calls the moment he sees you. 'Thought you forget we.'
You grin, hopping off your board and leaning it beside you. 'Relax nah, I was working earlier.'
Another friend tosses you a cold drink from the nearby stall. Mango-pineapple smoothie, your usual. The condensation drips instantly down the plastic cup in the warm air.
You take a long sip, sighing in satisfaction. 'Now dis is life.'
Kai nudges your shoulder. 'So de famous girlfriend land yet or what?'
You roll your eyes, but before you can answer— Your phone buzzes. Your stomach does that little flip it always does when her name appears.
Megan🖤: Where are you?
Your grin spreads instantly.
You: I at my favourite spot at the beach with friends, yk the one
The typing bubble appears. Stops. Appears again. Your heart beats a little faster waiting for the reply.
Megan🖤: On my way. Show the girls around?
You snort softly.
You: Fuh sure
Not much time passes before you hear voices approaching from farther down the boardwalk. Not quiet voices either. Tourists, locals, laughter. And then, you see her.
Megan walks slightly ahead of the others, scanning the beach like she’s searching for something important. Her hair is tied into a loose ponytail now, strands escaping in the wind, and she’s wearing one of those oversized hoodies she loves even though the Trinidad heat definitely does not agree with it.
Behind her trail the rest of the girls—Manon looking around curiously, Daniela already filming little clips of the beach on her phone, Sophia pointing out something to Lara, while Yoonchae walks quietly beside them soaking everything in.
They look like a group of tourists who accidentally wandered into paradise. Then Megan sees you and everything changes. Her entire face lights up as she takes off running.
'Yo—' Kai mutters beside you.
But Megan is already crossing the sand. She practically crashes into you, arms wrapping around your waist so tight you stumble back half a step.
'You didn’t tell me it was this crowded!' She murmurs into your ear, though her voice carries a soft laugh.
Your arms wrap around her shoulders instantly. 'Miss me dat bad, eh?'
'Obviously.'
She pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes scanning your face like she’s double checking you're real. The ocean breeze lifts your curls slightly and she smiles like it’s her favourite sight in the world.
Then she hugs you again. Even tighter.
Behind you, your friends exchange amused looks.
Kai clears his throat loudly. 'Uh… hello?'
Megan’s eyes flick over your shoulder. And land on him. Her grip tightens immediately. Just a little.
'Who’s that?' She asks quietly, her tone casual but her hand sliding possessively around your waist.
You almost laugh. 'Megan,' you say gently, turning slightly. 'Dis ah Kai.'
Kai hops down from the wall, offering a polite nod. 'Nice meeting you.'
Megan nods back slowly, clearly sizing him up.
Kai is tall, broad-shouldered, tattoos peeking from under his shirt, the kind of guy who always looks like he belongs leaning against a motorcycle somewhere.
You can practically hear Megan’s brain working. You lean close to her ear. 'Relax nah.' You whisper with a grin.
She squints at you. 'Relax about what?'
'You jealous.'
'I am not jealous.'
Her arms tighten around your waist again. Very convincing. Kai smirks knowingly but says nothing.
Eventually Megan sighs dramatically and rests her chin on your shoulder.
'I missed you.' She mumbles.
Your chest warms instantly. 'Ah know.'
Behind her, Daniela suddenly gasps. 'Oh my god the beach is so pretty!'
That breaks the tension immediately. The rest of the girls step forward and you greet them properly this time.
'Welcome to Trinidad,' you say with a proud grin. 'Best island in de Caribbean.'
'Debatable.' Sophia teases.
'Not debatable.' You shoot back.
Megan keeps one arm around your waist as if she plans on staying attached for the rest of the evening. Which… she probably does.
'So,' she says, nudging you with her shoulder. 'Show them around.'
'Bossy.'
'I’ve been away too long. I want them to see everything you love.'
You smile softly at that. Then you grab your skateboard and flip it under your foot.
'Alright then,' you announce. 'Come nah, let me show allyuh the real Trinidad.'
The girls follow eagerly as you start leading them along the boardwalk.
Music plays from a nearby stall selling fresh coconut water. The scent of fry bake and grilled shark drifts through the air while locals chat loudly around picnic tables.
Lara leans closer to you as you walk. 'What’s that smell?'
'Doubles,' you reply instantly. 'Best street food in de world.'
Daniela perks up. 'Wait wait wait—what are doubles?'
'Two bara breads with curried chickpeas inside,' you explain. 'Pepper sauce if you brave.'
Manon raises an eyebrow. 'Are we brave?'
You grin. 'We go see.'
Megan squeezes your waist again as you walk. 'So you bring people here often?' She murmurs suspiciously.
You look at her. 'Girl.'
'What?'
'You really jealous over doubles?'
The girls burst into laughter behind you.
Megan groans and hides her face against your shoulder. 'I hate all of you.'
As you continue walking, they start asking questions nonstop. About skating. About your childhood. About the beaches.
Daniela watches you spin your board under your foot. 'You really skate everywhere?'
'Everywhere,' you nod. 'School, work, beach, supermarket… if I can reach it with wheels, I skating.'
'That’s actually so cool.' Lara says.
Manon tilts her head thoughtfully. 'And the Spider-Man on your board?'
Your eyes immediately light up. 'Oh don’t start.'
Sophia grins. 'Oh we’re definitely starting.'
You laugh, already excited. 'Ah done see every movie. Every single one.'
'Favourite?' Yoonchae asks softly.
You open your mouth immediately—then stop. The girls notice right away.
'…Okay wait nah,' you say, pointing a finger like you’re trying to organise your thoughts. 'Dat question real evil.'
Daniela bursts out laughing. 'Why?'
'Cause,' you groan dramatically, leaning forward on the table, 'it between Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire, and ah refuse to choose so.'
Sophia raises an eyebrow. 'You have to pick one.'
You shake your head immediately. 'Nah, cause leh me tell yuh—Tobey Maguire was meh childhood Spider-Man, yuh know? Like dat one ah grow up watchin’. But Andrew Garfield…' you pause, pointing at the Spider-Man graphic on your skateboard. '…dat one does hurt meh feelings in de best way.'
Manon laughs. 'That is not an explanation.'
'It is so!' You protest. 'One raise me and de other mash up meh feelings.'
Daniela leans back, shaking her head. 'So the answer is…?'
You sigh dramatically. '…Both.'
'Cop-out!' Sophia accuses.
You grin unapologetically. 'Dat so.'
Megan watches you the entire time with that soft, slightly lovestruck smile she gets when you start rambling about things you love. She leans her head on your shoulder as you pause along the railing overlooking the water.
'Do you tell people about me?' She asks quietly.
You glance at her. 'Sometimes, yuh know.'
She squints. 'How sometimes?'
'When dem ask why I smiling at meh phone like a fool.'
That earns a quiet laugh from her. She presses a soft kiss to your temple. 'Good answer.'
Behind you, Kai calls out teasingly. 'She whipped!'
You blink, turning around quickly. You hadn’t even realised Kai had been following along behind you this whole time.
'She ain’t whipped!' You protest, turning toward him. 'Also—why yuh followin’ we so?'
Kai just grins, completely unbothered.
Megan raises her hand lazily. 'I plead guilty.' She says, completely unashamed.
Then her eyes flick toward Kai, narrowing slightly. 'But also,' she adds, straightening a little and pointing at him, 'why are you still following us?'
Kai just grins. Megan sighs, leaning closer to you like she’s claiming her spot beside you on purpose.
'I am whipped,' she admits with a shrug. 'Not thrilled about the audience though.'
Everyone laughs again. But Megan doesn’t move away from you. If anything, she pulls you closer. Her fingers interlocking with yours as the sky deepens into warm evening colours.
And walking there together, showing them your world— Your beaches. Your food. Your people. You realise something.
This moment? This right here?
It’s exactly what you hoped it would be. And the night is only just getting started.
---
You lead the girls away from the beach as the last of the sunset melts into warm twilight. The boardwalk slowly fades behind you, replaced by the lively evening streets of your town. Music drifts from open bars, the steady rhythm of soca mixing with the chatter of locals and the occasional burst of laughter spilling out from food stalls.
Your grin grows. 'Oh yeah, nah,' you say, glancing over your shoulder at them. 'Allyuh gon eat real good tonight.'
Up ahead sits the restaurant you’ve been aiming for. It isn’t flashy—just a small, brightly painted building with open windows and warm yellow lights spilling onto the street—but everyone on the island knows it.
This place is legendary. You push the door open and wave everyone inside. Immediately the smell of food wraps around you like a hug.
Curried chicken bubbling in pots, callaloo simmering slowly, pelau steaming on the counter, fresh roti being stretched and folded by hand behind the register. Somewhere deeper in the kitchen, oil crackles as fry bake drops into the pan.
Megan stops just inside the door. Her eyes widen slightly. 'Whoa… what is this place?'
You laugh softly. 'Welcome to Trinidad.'
She leans a little closer to you, bumping your shoulder gently. 'Wait… you’ve been keeping this from me? I’ve never even seen this restaurant before!'
'Ah nah keepin’ it from yuh,' you tease. 'Yuh too busy bein’ famous. When would you even have time for doubles?'
Behind you, Lara is already pulling out her phone. 'Oh my god this looks incredible.'
Daniela peers over the counter curiously while Manon reads the menu posted on the wall like it’s a research project.
Yoonchae just smiles quietly, soaking everything in.
You guide them toward a long table by the window where the evening breeze drifts inside.
'Alright,' you say, grabbing a menu. 'Rule number one, Allyuh cyah come to Trinidad and not eat doubles.'
Sophia raises an eyebrow. 'Explain.'
You grin. 'Two soft bara breads. Curried chickpeas. Tamarind sauce. Pepper sauce if yuh brave.'
Daniela grins. 'I’m brave.'
'Okay we go see.'
Soon the table fills with plates. Doubles wrapped in paper. Steaming curry chicken roti. Pelau packed with rice, peas, and meat. Golden fry bake stuffed with fresh shark and tangy sauces.
There’s coconut water, mauby, and a chilled glass of sorrel sitting in the middle of the table too.
The girls stare at it all like it’s treasure. Lara lifts her phone again. 'Wait nobody touch anything yet.'
You laugh. 'Girl, de food gettin’ cold!'
She snaps a few pictures quickly before waving everyone in. 'Okay okay eat!'
The reactions are immediate. 'Oh my god.' Daniela says through a mouthful of doubles.
Sophia blinks slowly after her first bite of roti. 'This is… ridiculous.'
Manon hums thoughtfully while chewing pelau. 'I understand why you were defensive earlier.'
Megan sits beside you quietly for a moment, studying how you fold your doubles carefully.
Then she reaches over and steals one from your plate. 'Hey!'
'I want to try it properly.'
She attempts to copy how you hold it. Immediately the chickpeas start sliding out the side.
You burst out laughing. 'Meg—nah—tilt it!'
'I am tilting it!'
'Nah so!'
Too late. A bit of channa drops onto the paper wrapper and she groans.
'You set me up.'
You gently take her hands and reposition the doubles. 'Here. Leh so.'
She finally takes a proper bite. Her eyes widen. 'Oh my god.'
'Ah tell yuh.'
She grins at you like she just discovered something magical.
Dinner stretches comfortably after that. Plates empty, laughter grows louder, and the girls ask endless questions about everything. The island. Your childhood. Your skating.
Megan mostly watches you, occasionally squeezing your hand under the table when you get excited explaining something.
At one point she leans closer. 'It's your birthday soon, right?'
You shrug casually. 'Yeah.'
'What do you want?'
You pause, thinking. Honestly… nothing comes to mind. 'Nah,' you say finally. 'I good.'
She narrows her eyes. 'You’re lying.'
'Ah nah!'
'You always want something.'
You laugh softly. 'Ah serious. Jus’ yuh bein’ here eh enough.'
Her expression softens instantly. She doesn’t argue after that. Instead she just squeezes your hand under the table.
When everyone finally finishes eating, you lead them back out into the warm night air. The town is still alive. Music drifting through the streets, scooters buzzing past, people chatting outside corner shops.
You show them the places that matter. The skate spot near the park where you learned your first tricks. The little convenience shop where you used to buy snacks after school. The quiet beach path where you and Megan once watched sunrise during one of her early visits years ago.
She remembers immediately. 'You took me here when we were like… fourteen.' She says softly.
You grin. 'Yuh cry cause de waves did cold.'
'They were freezing!'
The girls laugh as you continue walking through town, Megan staying tucked close to your side the entire time.
Eventually the bright lights of the hotel appear ahead. You slow down as you reach the entrance. 'Well,' you say, leaning on your skateboard. 'This is allyuh stop.'
The girls thank you enthusiastically, clearly still full and happy from the night. But Megan doesn’t move.
Instead she grabs both your hands gently and pulls you closer. 'Promise me you’ll get home safe.'
'Ah promise.'
She leans her forehead against yours. 'And make sure to call me when you get home.'
You smile softly. 'Bossy.'
'Very.'
Then she kisses you. Slow and warm, just long enough to make the moment linger. When you pull apart she hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your waist like she doesn’t want to let go.
'I missed you.' She murmurs again.
'Ah know, ah miss yuh too.'
You kiss her forehead before finally stepping back. 'Go inside before Missy start lookin’ fuh yuh.'
She sighs dramatically but obeys.
You hop onto your skateboard and push off down the quiet street. The wind rushes past your face as you roll away. You barely make it halfway down the block when your phone starts buzzing in your pocket.
You already know who it is. You answer immediately.
Megan’s face appears on the screen. 'Hi.' She says.
You laugh. 'Yuh jus’ see meh five seconds ago.'
'I know.'
'Yuh miss meh already?'
'Yes.'
You shake your head, smiling as you skate slowly toward home with the phone propped in your hand. She stays on the call the entire way. Watching you glide through the quiet streets, talking about nothing and everything.
By the time you reach your house, she’s curled up in her hotel bed with the lights dim.
'Stay on the phone.' She mumbles sleepily.
'Ah am.'
You set the phone beside you while you get ready for bed. Her voice gets softer. Slower. Eventually her breathing evens out.
She’s asleep.
You look at the screen one last time, smiling softly at the peaceful expression on her face. 'Goodnight, Megs.'
And even though she can’t hear it—It still feels like she does.
The next morning felt like it dragged on forever. For Megan, at least.
The Katseye girls had been awake early, dragged into hair, makeup, wardrobe, and interview prep before the sun had even fully climbed over the horizon. The hotel suite buzzed with stylists, cameras, and Missy’s clipboard tapping against every available surface as she kept the schedule moving.
Megan tried to focus. She really did. But her mind kept drifting back to you.
Back to the way you laughed when she made a mess eating doubles. Back to the feeling of your arms around her outside the hotel. Back to the way you’d stayed on FaceTime with her until she’d fallen asleep.
She’d woken up with the phone still beside her pillow. Your last message waiting.
You: Sleep good, Megs
She’d smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.
Now she sat in a bright studio chair while someone adjusted her mic pack.
'Alright Megan, you’re up next.' Someone called.
'Mhmm.' She replied automatically.
Sophia leaned over from the chair beside her, smirking. 'You’re texting her again, aren’t you?'
Megan didn’t even try to deny it. 'Maybe.'
Lara snorted from across the room. 'Girl, the promo shoot hasn’t even started yet.'
'I miss her.'
Daniela gasped dramatically. 'You saw her last night.'
Megan crossed her arms. 'Not the same.'
Manon chuckled quietly. 'Whipped.'
'Very whipped.' Sophia added.
Megan stuck her tongue out at them, but the smile never left her face.
Because the second this shoot ended? She was going straight to you.
By early afternoon, the girls were finally piling into the van again. Missy glanced at the clock. 'You’ve got a few hours before the next event tonight. Don’t wander too far.'
Megan was already grabbing her bag. 'We won’t.'
Sophia raised an eyebrow. 'We?'
'You’re all coming.' Megan said simply.
Daniela clapped once. 'Field trip!'
Your apartment wasn’t big. But it felt like home the second they stepped inside.
The windows were open, letting warm island air drift through the space. Music played quietly from a small speaker on the counter, something mellow and local that mixed perfectly with the sound of cooking.
And the smell. Oh the smell.
'Whoa.' Lara said immediately.
'What are you making?' Daniela asked, already peeking toward the kitchen.
You stood at the stove with a wooden spoon in hand, wearing an oversized Spider-Man shirt and shorts, curls tied loosely back.
You grinned when you saw them. 'Welcome to meh humble kitchen.'
Megan didn’t even say hello.She just walked straight over and hugged you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist like she’d been deprived of it all morning.
'You took forever.' She mumbled into your shoulder.
You laughed softly. 'Yuh dramatic.'
'I missed you.'
'Yuh see meh last night.'
'Not the same.'
Behind you, Sophia groaned. 'Oh my god.'
Manon chuckled. 'They’re insufferable.'
You glanced over your shoulder. 'Gimme five minutes and allyuh go get fed.'
'Five minutes?' Daniela repeated. 'It smells like heaven already.'
You stirred the pot proudly. 'Pelau.'
Sophia tilted her head. 'That’s the rice dish from yesterday?'
'Sorta,' you explained. 'Rice, pigeon peas, chicken, coconut milk, herbs… lil bit ah everyting.'
Yoonchae peeked into the pot and smiled. 'It smells amazing.'
Megan stayed glued to your back the entire time. Her chin rested on your shoulder as she watched you cook. Eventually the others drifted into the living room, leaving you two alone in the kitchen for a moment.
Megan leaned closer. 'So…'
You hummed. 'So?'
'…Kai.'
You paused. Then you burst out laughing. 'Meg.'
'What?'
'You jealous?'
'No! Well… a little.'
You turned in her arms, still holding the spoon. 'Kai is gay.'
She blinked. '…what?'
'Very gay.'
Her face turned red immediately. 'You’re kidding.'
'Nope.'
'You let me get jealous over a gay man.'
You grinned mischievously. 'Was funny.'
She groaned and buried her face in your shoulder. 'I’m never living that down.'
'Probbly nah. But hey nah,' you teased softly, 'At least now yuh know, yuh doh have nuttin’ to worry ’bout.'
She looked up at you. 'I wasn’t worried.'
'Mhm.'
'…okay maybe a little.'
You leaned forward and kissed her quickly. 'Yuh cute.'
She melted instantly.
A few minutes later everyone gathered around the small table as you served the pelau. Steam rose from the bowls. The girls dug in eagerly.
Silence fell.
Then—
'Oh my god.' Daniela said with her mouth full.
Sophia blinked slowly. 'I think I’m moving here.'
Manon nodded thoughtfully. 'For the food alone.'
Lara pointed her fork at you. 'You’ve been hiding this talent.'
You leaned back in your chair proudly. 'Trinidad cookin’, baby.'
Megan just watched you with a soft smile. Later, once everyone finished eating, Lara’s eyes drifted around your apartment.
Then she spotted it. 'Wait.'
She stood up. 'You weren’t kidding.'
Your entire wall was Spider-Man. Posters. Figures. Signed photos. Funko Pops lined up along a shelf.
Daniela gasped. 'Is that signed?!'
You grinned. 'Andrew Garfield, and ah have one signed by Tobey somewhere ’round here.'
Megan chuckled. 'She's always been obsessed.'
You grabbed something from beside the couch. Your skateboard. The underside deck graphic was unmistakable.
Spider-Man swinging across the design.
'Okay that’s sick.' Sophia admitted.
Daniela pointed. 'You skate on that?'
'All the time.'
Manon tilted her head. 'But why Spider-Man specifically?'
You sat on the arm of the couch, board resting against your knee. You thought about it for a second.
Then shrugged. 'Ah doh know… ah guess ah just relate to he.'
The girls listened quietly.
'He jus’ a regular boy,' you continued. 'Nah rich. Nah famous. Jus’… tryin’ fuh do good.'
Megan watched you closely.
'An’ when he swings through de city,' you said with a small smile, 'it kinda feel like skatin’.'
'Really?' Yoonchae asked.
'Yeah.'
You rolled the board under your foot.
'When yuh skatin’ fast enough… when de wind hit yuh face an’ yuh flyin’ down de hill…'
Lara lets out a quiet, surprised laugh, shaking her head a little.
'Okay—yeah, no, that was the most Trini you’ve sounded since we got here.'
You glance at her, half-smiling. 'What that supposed to mean?'
'I’m just saying,' she grins, 'I feel like I need subtitles when you get excited.'
Megan snorts softly from the side, clearly understanding every word, while Lara just laughs again, still a little in awe of how fast you slipped into it.
You gestured lightly. 'But for a second, it does feel like yuh swingin’ through de air.'
The room was quiet for a moment.
Then Lara grinned. 'That’s actually really cool.'
Daniela nodded. 'Yeah. I get it.'
Megan walked over and rested her hand on your shoulder. Her voice was soft. 'You’re such a nerd.'
You nudged her playfully. 'Yuh lil’ nerd.'
She smiled. 'Always.'
---
The afternoon passed way too quickly for Megan’s liking.
You’d all finished eating, the pelau pot practically scraped clean, and the apartment had slowly filled with laughter, music, and the occasional argument about which Spider-Man movie was actually the best.
You were currently… indecisive.
'Look nah, it’s a tie,' you admitted, leaning back against the couch with your skateboard resting against your leg. 'Andrew Garfield got de emotion, de swing scenes, de way he make yuh care. But Tobey… Tobey had dat charm. Dat classic, heart-on-his-sleeve kinda ting. Ah cyah pick!'
Megan, lounging beside you, pouted dramatically, arms crossed. 'You… love him more than me, don’t you?'
'Eh?' You laughed, nudging her shoulder. 'Ah jus’ say, Spider-Man perfect, nah? But yuh know ah love yuh more than any web-slinger.'
She rolled her eyes, feigning indignation but staying snuggled close. 'I’m whipped,' she admitted, muttering under her breath. 'But… not thrilled some guy gets this much attention from you, even if he’s a fictional superhero.'
The girls erupted into laughter, some teasing, some just enjoying the drama, while you shook your head and grinned. 'It’s a tie. End of debate.'
Sophia crossed her arms. 'I like Tom Holland.'
Daniela nodded immediately. 'Tom.'
You groaned dramatically. 'Allyuh have no taste.'
Lara laughed so hard she nearly dropped the Spider-Man Funko Pop she’d been examining.
'You literally have a shrine to him!'
'Cause he de best one!'
Megan, meanwhile, hadn’t really participated in the debate. She’d just been watching you. Her chin resting in her palm. Eyes soft.
Manon noticed. 'Oh my god.' She muttered.
Sophia glanced over. 'What?'
Manon nodded toward Megan. 'Look at her.'
Everyone turned. Megan blinked. 'What?'
Daniela pointed. 'You’re staring again.'
'I’m not.'
'You are.'
Megan immediately turned pink. 'I just haven’t seen her in forever!'
You looked between them. '…Wha’ ah miss?'
'Nothing.' Megan said quickly, looking at her phone to distract herself.
Sophia’s phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced at it and then read aloud, 'Missy says we need to head back now.'
Groans erupted around the room. 'Already?' Lara whined.
You stood and stretched. 'Duty callin’, superstar.'
Megan looked like someone had just told her she had to move to another planet.
'No.'
You laughed. 'Yeh.'
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around you again, burying her face in your neck.
'I just got here.'
'Yuh been here three hours.'
'Not enough.'
'Megs…'
She tightened her grip. 'I’m serious.'
The girls watched with identical amused expressions. Sophia leaned toward Daniela. 'She’s actually attached.'
Daniela whispered back. 'Like Velcro.'
You rubbed Megan’s back gently. 'Yuh gon be late.'
'I don’t care.'
'Yeh, yuh do.'
'I don’t.'
Before you could argue again, Megan leaned up and kissed you. Not quick. Not subtle. A proper kiss.
Yoonchae made a noise somewhere between shock and secondhand embarrassment.
'Ack—!' She immediately slapped her hands over her eyes. 'Too much! Too much!'
Lara burst out laughing. Sophia clapped once. 'Alright lovebirds, break it up.'
But Megan didn’t move. So Yoonchae walked over, still covering her eyes with one hand, and grabbed Megan’s hoodie sleeve with the other.
'We're going now.'
Megan resisted like a stubborn cat. 'No.'
'Yes.'
'No.'
'Yes!'
She tugged harder. Daniela wheezed with laughter. 'You’re literally being dragged.'
'I’m not leaving!' Megan protested dramatically.
You gently pushed her shoulders. 'Yuh is.'
She looked at you with betrayal. 'You’re choosing them over me?'
You kissed her again quickly. 'Go do yuh job.'
She sighed like the world had ended. 'Fine.'
Yoonchae finally succeeded in dragging her toward the door. 'I can’t see but I know you’re still looking at her.' Yoonchae said accusingly.
'I am.'
'I knew it!'
The girls waved goodbye as they shuffled out.
'See you later!' Lara called.
'Don’t burn the apartment down!' Daniela added.
'Text me when you get home!' Megan shouted from the hallway.
'Ah live here!' You called back.
The door finally closed. Your apartment felt quiet again. You shook your head with a smile and grabbed your board. Time to head to work.
Meanwhile, the van had barely pulled away before Megan groaned and slumped in her seat.
'I should’ve stayed.'
Sophia smirked. 'You said that five times already.'
Daniela leaned forward. 'Okay, but real talk.'
Manon nodded. 'Birthday.'
Megan’s head snapped up immediately. 'Oh!'
Right. Your birthday. It was in two days.
Lara pulled out her phone. 'Operation Spider-Skater.'
Megan grinned. 'I like that name.'
Sophia glanced at her. 'You know her best. What should we get?'
Megan started counting on her fingers. 'Okay definitely skateboard stuff. New wheels maybe.'
Daniela nodded while typing notes. 'Got it.'
'And grip tape,' Megan added. 'She does go through grip tape like crazy.'
'Grip tape.' Daniela repeated.
Manon leaned over the seat. 'And Spider-Man things obviously.'
'Obviously.' Lara agreed.
Yoonchae suddenly gasped. 'I saw something!'
Everyone looked at her.
'It was like… tiny skateboard?'
Megan blinked. 'What?'
'For headphones!' Yoonchae explained, gesturing wildly. 'You wrap the wire around the wheels!'
Lara’s eyes lit up. 'Oh my god that’s adorable.'
Daniela scribbled it down immediately. 'Mini skateboard headphone holder.'
Sophia smirked. 'That’s perfect actually.'
Megan laughed softly. 'She’ll love that.'
Manon tapped her chin thoughtfully. 'What about Spider-Man merch she doesn't have?'
'That’s the challenge.' Megan admitted.
'She has a lot.'
Lara cracked her knuckles. 'Good thing we have tomorrow afternoon free.'
Sophia nodded. 'Split up?'
Daniela pointed at Megan. 'You’re not coming.'
'What?!'
'You’d tell her everything!'
'I would not!'
'Meg,' Manon said gently, 'you’re terrible at secrets.'
Megan slumped. '…okay maybe.'
Sophia smirked. 'You’re the distraction.'
'Exactly,' Daniela said. 'You keep her busy while we shop.'
Yoonchae pumped her fist. 'Mission!'
Megan sighed dramatically again. 'Fine.'
But she couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. Because she already knew exactly how your face would look when you opened the gifts.
And honestly? That alone made all the sneaking around worth it.
The next day became a carefully coordinated operation. You went about your normal routine. Working. Skating. Meeting friends. Completely unaware.
Meanwhile, across town, five Katseye members sprinted through a mall like undercover agents.
'Okay!' Daniela announced, holding the list. 'Lara and I get Spider-Man merch.'
'On it.' Lara said.
'Manon and Sophia get skateboard gear.'
'Easy.' Sophia replied.
Yoonchae held up her phone triumphantly. 'I found the tiny skateboard headphone thing!'
Everyone cheered. 'Perfect!'
Within two hours they had new skateboard wheels, fresh grip tape, a Spider-Man hoodie, a few rare figurines, a signed comic print they’d found in a specialty shop and the tiny skateboard headphone holder.
They spread everything across the hotel bed later that night.
Daniela grinned proudly. 'Oh yeah.'
Lara nodded. 'She's gonna freak out.'
Sophia crossed her arms with a satisfied smile. 'It's gonna be the best birthday ever.'
Megan walked in a few minutes later after hanging out with you. She froze when she saw the pile. '…You guys went all out.'
Manon shrugged. 'She deserves it.'
Megan gently picked up the tiny skateboard holder and smiled. 'She's seriously gonna love this.'
And for the first time all day, she couldn’t wait for your birthday to arrive.
---
The sun was already starting to dip lower over the water when you finally reached the beach.
It had been a busy day for the girls again—interviews, promo shoots, fans waiting outside the hotel—but tonight they had carved out a few hours just for you. Tomorrow morning they had an early flight, and everyone knew it.
Which was exactly why Megan had refused to let this evening go to waste.
The beach in Santa Monica Beach was lively but calm enough that you could find a little stretch of sand to yourselves. Food stalls lined the boardwalk behind you, music drifting faintly through the warm air, the sky turning pink and gold as the sun began sinking toward the horizon.
You had your skateboard tucked under your arm as usual when you arrived.
Megan spotted you first.
'There she is!' She said, immediately abandoning whatever conversation she’d been having with Lara.
Before you could even properly greet everyone, Megan was already halfway across the sand, jogging toward you.
'Hey—!' Your words cut off as she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.
She buried her face into your shoulder like she hadn’t seen you in months instead of just earlier that day.
'I missed you.' She mumbled.
'Yuh only see meh six hours ago, eh!'
'That’s too long.'
You laughed softly, hugging her back just as tightly. Behind her, the others were approaching more normally.
'Six hours is crazy dramatic.' Daniela said, shaking her head.
'She was checking the time every ten minutes.' Lara added.
'I was not!'
'You absolutely were.'
Yoonchae giggled while Sophia dramatically mimicked Megan looking at an imaginary watch.
The teasing made Megan pull away just enough to glare at them before immediately turning back to you and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
'Ignore them.'
You smiled. 'Hard ting.'
You all ended up sitting in a loose circle on the sand with food scattered between you.
Everyone had grabbed whatever they wanted from the nearby stalls: fries, fruit cups, bubble tea, fried shrimp, ice cream and much more.
The picnic was chaotic in the best way. Manon was trying to convince Sophia to try spicy street tacos.
'I promise they’re not that bad.'
'They’re glowing red!'
'That’s seasoning!'
'THAT’S FIRE.'
Daniela was halfway through stealing fries from Lara’s tray. 'Those are mine.'
'You weren’t eating them.'
'I was pacing myself!'
Meanwhile, Megan had claimed the spot right next to you and had zero intention of moving. Her shoulder leaned into yours. Her hand rested loosely on your knee. Every time someone said something funny, she leaned into you to laugh.
At one point she rested her head against your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
'Yuh comfortable?' You teased.
'Very.'
'Yuh heavy.'
'I will simply ignore that.'
You were halfway through your drink when Megan suddenly sat up straighter. 'Oh right.'
Your eyebrows lifted. 'Right wha’?'
She looked around at the others. 'Guys.'
Instantly the girls started exchanging looks. Sophia gasped dramatically. 'Oh my god, it’s time.'
Time? You frowned. 'Time fuh wha’?'
Daniela jumped up first. 'Wait here!'
'Wha’ kinda place ah go?!'
Before you could question it further, Lara and Manon were already jogging toward the boardwalk.
'Wha’ yuh goin’?'
'Just wait!' Yoonchae called.
You blinked at Megan. 'Ah fuh be concerned?'
She looked extremely pleased with herself. 'Nope.'
'Meg…'
'Just trust me.'
Five minutes later the others returned carrying a few small bags.
You stared. '…wha’ kinda ting dat?'
Megan grinned. 'Your birthday gifts.'
Your brain lagged. 'Ah birthday coming in a couple days.'
'Yes,' Megan said matter-of-factly. 'When we’ll be back in LA. So you’re opening them now.'
Your mouth fell open slightly.
All six of them immediately protested. 'Of course we did!' Sophia said.
'It’s your birthday!' Lara added.
'You deserve gifts.' Yoonchae said simply.
Megan nudged a bag toward you. 'Open it.'
You carefully pulled out the first item. Your eyebrows shot up. It was a tiny skateboard. A fingerboard-sized one—but with little wheels designed to wrap something around them.
Yoonchae lit up immediately. 'Okay okay that one was my idea.'
You turned it over curiously. 'Wha’ dat?'
'For your headphones!' She said.
She grabbed the cable of your wired earbuds and wrapped it around the tiny wheels. It fit perfectly.
You blinked. 'Ah swear, dat actually genius!'
'I saw it online.' Yoonchae said proudly.
'It’s so cute.' Sophia added.
You smiled. 'Okay nah, ah love dis!'
Megan looked extremely satisfied.
The next bag held more skate-related things. Grip tape designs. New bearings. A small multi-tool for adjusting trucks.
Your jaw slowly dropped. 'Wait nah—dese de ones ah seh ah like!'
Manon nodded. 'You mentioned them the other day.'
'Yuh remember dat?'
'Of course.'
You looked genuinely stunned. 'Ah jus’ ramblin’.'
'We listen.' Lara said with a shrug.
The final bag was clearly from Megan. She looked way too excited. 'Open that one.'
Inside was a small stack of things. A hoodie. A keychain. A comic. All themed around your favourite superhero. Spider-Man
Your eyes widened. '…Ah doh have dis comic.'
'I checked.' Megan said proudly.
'Yuh really check?'
'I looked through your whole collection.'
'Wha’ yuh say?!'
'I needed to make sure!'
Everyone burst out laughing. You held the hoodie up. 'Dis actually so cool.'
'It’s limited edition.' Megan added quickly.
You looked around the circle at all of them. Your voice softened. 'Allyuh… ah really didn’t expect nuttin’.'
Yoonchae smiled warmly. 'You deserve it.'
Sophia leaned forward. 'And we love spoiling people.'
Megan gently squeezed your hand. 'Happy early birthday.'
Your chest felt warm. 'Thanks, ah really serious.'
Later, as the sun had fully set and the beach lights came on, you all started walking back toward the hotel. Your skateboard rolled lightly under your foot.
Lara watched curiously. 'Can you teach me?'
'Yeah!' Daniela added.
Sophia immediately panicked. 'Wait I don’t want to break my bones.'
'It’s cool,' you laughed. 'Ah go show yuh.'
But before you could step away, Megan grabbed your sleeve. 'Hey.'
'Wha’?'
She pouted slightly. 'You’re leaving me.'
'Ah teachin’ dem.'
'Rude.'
'Yuh gon be alright.'
'No.'
The girls burst out laughing. 'Megan, let her go!' Lara called.
Megan reluctantly released you—but only after stealing a quick kiss. 'Be careful.' She said dramatically.
'Ah nah goin’ to war.'
You showed Lara and Daniela the basics. And within thirty seconds Daniela was wobbling.
'I’m going to die.'
'Yuh nah.'
Sophia refused to step on the board. 'I will watch from a safe distance.'
Meanwhile, Yoonchae and Manon tried learning together. Which mostly involved holding each other’s arms.
'If I fall you fall.' Yoonchae warned.
'That’s not comforting.'
They shuffled forward two feet. Then both screamed slightly when the board rolled faster than expected.
You laughed. 'Yuh doin’ real good!'
Behind you, Megan stood watching with crossed arms. 'You’re having fun without me.'
'Yuh didn’t want fuh try!'
'I wanted you.'
You rolled your eyes affectionately and skated back to her. 'Dere… now yuh stuck wid meh.'
Satisfied, she looped an arm around your waist. 'Good.'
By the time you reached the hotel, everyone was exhausted and giggly. But Megan clearly wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.
'Stay tonight.' She said softly.
You hesitated for about half a second. '…okay.'
Her entire face lit up.
Later, in Megan’s hotel room, the world finally felt quiet. No cameras. No fans. Just the two of you. You sat on the edge of the bed while she hugged you from behind.
'You know I’m going to miss you a lot, right?' She said quietly.
'Ah know.'
'You better call me.'
'Ah go do dat.'
'Every day.'
You laughed softly. 'Yeh, Megan.'
She tightened the hug. 'Good.'
Then she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. 'Best early birthday ever.' She murmured.
And honestly? You kind of agreed.
---
Morning came far too quickly. The soft light creeping through the hotel curtains made it feel earlier than it already was, and the quiet inside the room was the kind that only happens before a long day of travel.
You were awake before Megan. Mostly because you hadn’t slept very much.
Your arm was trapped under her as she curled against your side, one leg half over yours, her face tucked into the crook of your neck like she’d refused to let you go even in her sleep.
Which… honestly, she probably had.
You brushed your fingers lightly through her hair. 'Meg.' You whispered.
She groaned softly. 'No.'
You smiled faintly. 'Yuh have a flight.'
'Cancel it.'
'Yuh have a job.'
'Cancel that too.'
'Yuh have millions ah fans.'
'I’ll apologise.'
You laughed quietly. She finally lifted her head just enough to squint at you. The sleepy expression faded almost immediately when she remembered. 'Oh.'
Your chest tightened a little. 'Yeh.'
For a moment neither of you said anything. Then Megan immediately wrapped both arms around you again. 'I don’t want to go.'
'Ah know.'
The hotel room slowly became busier as the morning went on. Suitcases zipped. Phones buzzed. Girls moved in and out of the hallway as everyone finished packing.
You stayed near Megan most of the time, sitting on the bed while she shoved the last of her clothes into her suitcase.
She kept stopping to hug you every couple of minutes. 'Yuh distractin’ yuhself.'
'You started it.' She said.
'Yuh de one huggin’ meh.'
'Because you’re leaving.'
'Ah nah leavin’.' You pointed out gently.
'You are.'
'Yuh de one flyin’ to LA.'
'Exactly.'
Eventually everyone gathered downstairs. The early morning lobby was quiet except for your group and the hotel staff behind the desk. Suitcases were lined up near the entrance. Outside, the van waiting to take them to the airport was already parked at the curb.
The reality of the moment settled in quickly. Sophia was the first one to sigh. 'I hate goodbye's.'
'Same.' Lara muttered.
Daniela was leaning against one of the suitcases, arms folded like she was trying not to think about it too much. Yoonchae kept glancing between you and Megan.
And Megan… Megan had both of your hands in hers. She was clearly trying not to cry.
'You’ll text me when you get home?' She asked.
'Yeh.'
'You promise?'
'Ah promise.'
She bit her lip slightly. 'You’ll call too.'
'Ah course.'
Then you nudged her shoulder lightly. 'An’ ah go come visit yuh.'
That made her look up. 'You are?'
'Yeh.' You shrugged. 'Ah go rearrange some tings. Ah been meanin’ to visit LA anyway.'
Her eyes lit up immediately. 'Wait seriously?'
'Ah serious.'
'You’ll let me show you around?'
'Dat de plan.'
Her entire face brightened. 'This time I’ll be the tour guide.'
'Exactly so.'
For a moment the sadness lifted a little. Then Megan immediately hugged you again. Tighter this time.
'Still don’t want to go.'
You laughed softly into her shoulder. 'Yuh kinda have fuh.'
'What if I hide in your suitcase?'
'Yuh go suffocate.'
'…worth it.'
You gently pulled back and cupped her face. 'Meg.'
She looked at you.
'Yuh have fans waitin’ fuh yuh.' You reminded her. 'Millions ah dem.'
She groaned dramatically. 'You think they’d notice if I stayed here?'
You raised an eyebrow. 'Meg.'
'What?'
'Yuh know dem fans go really hunt meh down if yuh skip work fuh meh.'
That made Sophia snort. 'Oh absolutely.'
Daniela nodded. 'Twitter would explode.'
'Correction,' Lara added, 'they’d track your location.'
'Then cancel you.'
'Then send Megan back anyway.'
Yoonchae giggled as Megan sighed dramatically. 'Fine.'
You smiled softly. 'See? Yuh fans win.'
'They always do.'
The van driver stepped inside. 'Five minutes.'
That made the mood shift again. One by one, you started hugging the girls. First Sophia. She squeezed you tightly. 'You better visit.'
'Ah go.'
'Good. We’ll take you to all the best food places.'
Daniela hugged you next. 'Thanks for hanging out with us.'
'Course nah.'
'You’re cool.' She added with a grin.
Lara wrapped you in a surprisingly strong hug. 'You make Megan so happy.'
That made you smile. 'Ah try.'
Manon gave you a warm hug too. 'See you in LA.'
'Fo’ sure.'
Then Yoonchae. She squeezed you tightly. 'We'll take care of Megan in the mean time.'
'Thanks nah.'
'You’re very important to her.'
Your chest warmed at that.
Missy had been standing nearby quietly watching the chaos. You’d never really spoken to her properly before. But when your eyes met, she smiled politely.
You stepped forward slightly. 'Ah leh meh hug yuh too?'
She looked surprised. Then laughed. 'Sure.'
The hug was brief but friendly.
'Make sure yuh tek care ah dem.' You joked.
'I'll try my hardest.' She said.
Then it was Megan. She had clearly been waiting. The moment the last hug finished, she stepped forward and wrapped you up again. Tighter than before. Your arms circled her back.
'You’ll call me tonight?' She asked quietly.
'Ah go.'
'Even with the time difference?'
'Yuh.'
She leaned back slightly. Then kissed you. Soft. Slow. Not caring that the others were right there.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were smiling a little. Even if your eyes were slightly watery.
Of course the moment Megan stepped away, the teasing started. Sophia pointed at her. 'If you don’t marry her one day, I will.'
Daniela raised her hand. 'Same.'
'I’m first in line.' Lara said.
'Excuse me?' Yoonchae added.
Megan’s head snapped toward them. 'Absolutely not.'
They burst out laughing. 'You better hurry then.' Manon teased.
'You’re all ridiculous,' Megan said. 'Back off.'
Sophia smirked. 'See? She’s territorial.'
'You’re all banned.'
'You love us.'
'…unfortunately.'
Everyone laughed again. Eventually they had to go. Suitcases rolled toward the van. Doors opened. The girls climbed inside one by one. Megan was the last to get in.
But before she did, she leaned out and pointed at you.
'Don’t forget. Visit LA.'
You nodded. 'Ah nah.'
'And call me tonight.'
'Yeh, Megs.'
She smiled. Then blew you a kiss. 'Bye, I love you.'
'Bye, baby. Ah love yuh more.'
The van door closed. You watched it pull away from the hotel curb. Bittersweet. But not really goodbye.
Because this time, you already knew you’d see her again soon.
cyah - cant
ah go - I go
fuh - should / to
Ah - my / I
doh fuh = didn’t have to / don’t need to
ah seh ah like = I said I liked
Ah go do dat - I'll do that
(i hope these are correct, pls dont kill me if they arent. im just going off of what google told me)
Summary: You're easily startled by loud noises, but with the girls' quiet care — and Sophia always by your side — your learn you're never facing the chaos alone.
The van smells faintly of coffee and setting spray.
Lara is half-turned in her seat, arguing about whether she should go for glossy lips or matte for the interview. Daniela is scrolling through TikTok. Yoonchae is humming quietly to herself. Manon’s reading something on her phone and Sophia’s next to you, thigh pressed lightly against yours in the cramped row.
It’s an ordinary drive. City traffic. Stoplights. The low rumble of the engine beneath your feet. You’re relaxed.
Until the driver slams the horn. A sharp, blaring blast.
Your whole body reacts before your brain catches up. Your shoulders snap up. Your breath hitches. Fingers dig into the seat beside you.
It only lasts a second.
The girls jump too.
'Whoa!' Daniela laughs, clutching her chest. 'That scared me.'
'Same,' Lara groans dramatically. 'Why is he honking like we’re in an action movie?'
You force a small laugh, exhaling like you’re coming down from a sprint.
'Literally.' You say, trying to sound light.
No one thinks twice about it. Everyone startles at a horn that loud. But Sophia glances at you. Just for a second longer than necessary.
Your hands are still curled.
---
The interview goes smoothly. Hair and makeup done. Flashing cameras. Bright smiles. Perfect answers. You’re glowing under studio lights, polished and confident.
It’s easy in controlled environments. It’s predictable. The trouble starts outside.
The doors open. And it’s louder than expected.
Shutters firing rapidly. Voices shouting your names. Fans pressed against barricades that security hadn’t anticipated being so crowded.
'Katseye! Over here!'
'Y/N!'
'Sophia!'
'Look this way!'
The noise hits in layers. Sharp. Sudden. Overlapping. You feel it first in your chest. That familiar tightening. Then your shoulders.
Missy’s voice cuts through somewhere in front of you. 'Okay, let’s move. Straight to the van.'
Security forms a loose barrier, but it’s chaotic. Bodies shifting. Camera flashes popping inches from your face.
A fan screams right near your ear.
You flinch.
Not visibly dramatic. Not enough to make headlines. But enough.
Your steps slow without you meaning to. Your body goes rigid, like it’s bracing for impact that never quite arrives.
Noise stacks on noise. Shutter. Shout. Honk from the street. Someone dropping something metallic on pavement.
Your vision narrows. You know nothing bad is happening. You know it. But your body doesn’t.
Sophia is behind you. She notices immediately.
You’re too stiff. Too quiet. Your movements look mechanical, like you’re walking through water.
She places her hand at your lower back. Casual. Normal. From the outside, it just looks like guiding.
'Left,' she says quietly, leaning closer so only you can hear. 'Van’s right there.'
Her thumb presses once into your back. Grounding. You inhale.
The door slides open. Security ushers you in quickly. One by one.
When it’s your turn, you hesitate half a second too long at the step. Sophia’s hand shifts from your back to your wrist.
Not grabbing. Just there.
'I’m right behind you.' She murmurs.
You climb in. The door shuts. The noise cuts off almost instantly.
Silence.
Your chest is still tight.
The girls are talking over each other about how crazy it was.
'That was wild.'
'I didn’t know that many people were coming.'
'My ears are ringing.'
You nod along. You’re good at nodding along.
Sophia doesn’t say anything. She just stays close enough that your knees touch.
And when the van starts moving again, her pinky hooks loosely with yours where no one can see.
Not dramatic. Not obvious. Just steady.
The ride back is louder than usual. Everyone’s riding the adrenaline.
'That was insane,' Lara says, half laughing, half stressed. 'Why didn’t management tell us it was going to be that packed?'
'Not me,' Lara says instantly. 'I did my hair today. That’s enough work.'
Manon raises an eyebrow. 'That is not how labour distribution works.'
You’re halfway to the kitchen when Sophia’s voice comes softly behind you.
'Hey.'
It’s not loud. But it’s intentional. You turn.
She’s standing a little apart from the others now, her expression gentler than it was in the van.
'You okay?' She asks quietly.
You force a small smile. 'Yeah.'
She studies you. 'Just you were really quiet on the ride home.'
You lean back against the counter casually. 'It was just a lot. I wasn’t expecting that many people.'
'That’s fair.' She says, nodding slowly.
There’s a pause. She doesn’t look convinced.
'You kind of… froze for a second.' She adds carefully.
You shrug, reaching for a glass just to have something to do with your hands. 'I mean, we got ambushed. Anyone would.'
'That’s not what I meant.'
Her voice is softer now. Searching.
You feel that familiar instinct rise — the one that says make it small, make it normal, don’t let it become a thing.
'I was just overwhelmed,' you say lightly. 'Too many flashes. Too much noise. It happens.'
She watches your face as you say it. Like she’s trying to see past the performance. Because you are good at performing.
Even off stage.
She opens her mouth to ask something else —
'FOOD!' Daniela yells from the living room. 'I’m actually going to pass out.'
'Can someone cook?' Lara groans.
Yoonchae peeks into the kitchen. 'Please?'
The moment fractures.
Sophia’s eyes flick toward them, then back to you.
You push off the counter immediately. 'We are absolutely not cooking tonight.'
Daniela groans.
You pull out your phone. 'Pizza?'
'YES.'
'What kind?'
'Half pepperoni, half—'
'Wait, no mushrooms.'
'Extra garlic dip!'
The kitchen fills with noise again — but it’s warm noise. Familiar. Layered with laughter instead of chaos.
You focus on placing the order. Address confirmed. Payment sent.
'Fourty-five minutes.' You announce.
Applause from the couch.
Sophia lingers near the doorway. She hasn’t moved far. Hasn’t dropped it. When the others start debating what movie to put on, she steps closer again.
Quiet enough that it doesn’t draw attention.
'You're sure?' She asks, barely above a murmur.
You meet her eyes. She’s not interrogating. She’s not accusing. She’s just… there.
'I’m sure,' you say gently. 'It was just a lot. I’ll be fine.'
There’s that word. Fine.
She nods slowly. But she doesn’t look relieved. She looks thoughtful. Like she’s filing something away.
You head towards the couch with the others, letting yourself get pulled into their argument about whether to rewatch something comforting or start something new.
Sophia sits beside you. Close. Not touching at first. Then, gradually, her knee rests against yours. Light. Testing.
You don’t pull away.
After a minute, her hand drops to the cushion between you both.
Her pinky brushes yours. Accidental-looking. Intentional. You let your hand stay there. You tell yourself it’s just because you’re tired. Because it was loud. Because it was overwhelming. Because anyone would feel like that after getting ambushed.
Sophia watches the TV. But every time something sharp or sudden happens on screen — She glances at you first.
And she’s starting to realise that this wasn’t just today, it wasn’t just the van and it definitely wasn’t just the paparazzi.
She doesn’t push. Not tonight. But she’s paying attention now. And she’s not going to stop.
---
You wake up before your alarm. Not because of noise. Because of the pressure in the air.
The sky outside is still dark, heavy with rainclouds. The apartment feels smaller somehow, wrapped in that grey-blue light that comes before a storm breaks.
For a moment, it’s quiet. Then the thunder rolls in the distance. Low. Not sharp yet.
You stiffen slightly under the covers.
Beside you, Sophia shifts but doesn’t wake.
You tell yourself it’s far away. That it’s fine.
You get up, moving quietly so you don’t disturb her. The hardwood floor is cool under your feet. The apartment smells faintly like last night’s pizza and Sophia’s shampoo.
The first crack hits while you’re brushing your teeth. It’s louder this time. Closer. The bathroom window rattles faintly.
Your shoulders jump before you can stop them. The toothbrush slips slightly against your teeth.
You grip the counter. It’s just thunder. Nothing bad follows. Nothing ever follows. You repeat that in your head.
From the hallway, you hear Yoonchae’s sleepy voice. 'Is it raining?'
Another rumble answers her.
You step out of the bathroom, already dressed for rehearsal. 'Storm.' You say lightly.
Right on cue— CRACK.
Sharp. Splitting. The kind that feels like it hits directly above the building.
You flinch hard enough that your elbow knocks against the doorframe.
Sophia’s door opens immediately. She’s awake now. She sees you before you can fully recover. Your chest is rising too fast. Your jaw’s tight.
Yoonchae peeks out behind her, wide-eyed but calm. 'Whoa.'
'It’s loud.' You say quickly, brushing it off before either of them can comment.
Another boom rolls through the sky. You jump again. This one is smaller. Controlled. But visible.
Sophia doesn’t say anything. She just watches.
You grab your bag. 'We should go or we’ll be late.'
The rain lashes against the car windshield in steady sheets. The wipers move in frantic rhythm.
Every distant thunder roll makes your spine straighten. Every sharper crack makes your fingers curl in your lap.
Yoonchae notices first this time. She pretends to adjust the music volume lower. Sophia pretends not to notice you noticing.
Another strike. You suck in a breath.
Sophia’s hand rests briefly on your knee. Casual. Grounding. You exhale.
The rehearsal studio smells like polished floors and coffee.
Megan’s already stretching. Daniela’s talking loudly about something she saw online. Lara’s pacing with a protein bar. Manon’s rolling her shoulders out methodically.
The storm follows you inside. Rain drums against the high windows. The first thunder crack inside the studio echoes.
The sound amplifies in the large space.
You jump. Harder than you did in the car.
Daniela pauses mid-sentence. 'Okay, that one was aggressive.'
Another rumble.
You subtly step away from the windows. They don’t say anything yet.
Music starts, so you begin rehearsal.
The beat fills the room, heavy bass vibrating through the floor. Usually, you love that feeling. Today, every extra sharp sound feels magnified. Because there’s a reason you never fully explained.
When you were younger, there was an accident. You don’t tell the story often. You were in the backseat. There was a sound first. A violent, metallic crack of impact. Louder than anything you’d ever heard.
And for a split second afterward — Silence. Then screaming. Glass. Sirens.
You were lucky. Mostly.
The accident didn’t destroy your hearing. But the shock and damage left your ears different. Sudden sounds didn’t just register — they spiked. Louder. Sharper. Like your brain had lost the filter that most people had.
Back in the studio— Another thunder crack hits. You visibly flinch this time.
Megan stops mid-step. 'Okay.'
Music cuts. You freeze. Six pairs of eyes turn to you.
'Are you good?' Lara asks gently.
'You’re really jumpy today.' Daniela adds, not teasing — just observant.
Manon tilts her head slightly. 'It’s not just today.'
Silence stretches. You hate this part. Being perceived.
'It’s just the storm.' You say weakly.
Sophia doesn’t look at the others. She looks at you. Soft. Steady.
'It’s not just the storm though, is it?' She says quietly.
The room shifts. Not dramatic. Just attentive. You swallow.
You could brush it off again. You almost do. But another low rumble vibrates through the walls, and your shoulders tighten instinctively.
They all see it. Megan’s expression softens immediately.
'Hey,' she says gently. 'Sit down.'
You hesitate. Then you do. They sit with you on the floor in a loose circle. No one pushes. No one crowds.
You draw your knees in slightly. 'It’s stupid.' You start.
'It’s not.' Manon says instantly.
You take a breath. 'When I was a kid, I was in a car accident.''
The words feel strange out loud.
'There was this really loud impact sound first. Like… metal snapping.' Your fingers curl unconsciously at the memory. 'And then everything else happened.'
The room is silent.
'I was okay,' you add quickly. 'Mostly. But it damaged my eardrum a little. So loud noises are already louder for me than they are for you.'
Daniela’s brows knit together.
'And after that,' you continue softly, 'my brain kind of decided that loud equals bad. So every time something spikes, my body just… braces.'
Another rumble rolls outside. You flinch again. And this time, you don’t pretend you didn’t.
Megan’s face is openly concerned now. Lara looks like she wants to fight the sky. Yoonchae’s eyes are glossy. Manon nods slowly, processing.
Sophia finally speaks. 'I should’ve asked you.' She says quietly.
You glance at her.
'Back during Dream Academy. When the speaker popped.'
You remember. She was right next to you.
'I saw your hands shaking,' she continues. 'I just let you say it was your ears.'
You shake your head quickly. 'It is my ears. Part of it.'
'But not all of it.' She says.
There’s no guilt in her voice. Just honesty.
You shrug slightly. 'I didn’t want it to be a thing.'
Manon reaches over and nudges your knee gently. 'It’s not a thing. It’s just… you.'
Sophia’s hand tightened around yours a second before the thunder cracked. Warm. Steady.
'You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t happen.' She says softly.
And for the first time, you don’t try to minimise it. You just nod.
Outside, the storm continues. Inside, something shifts. Not in a loud way. But in small, deliberate ways.
Lara starts distracting you whenever something loud pops up — tossing you a random comment about choreography, asking your opinion on a move, or pulling you into a quick joke before the noise can fully settle in your head.
Daniela lowers the speaker volume slightly without announcing it.
Manon asks the staff later if sound checks can include warning cues before effects.
Megan quietly shifts closer during rehearsals and performances, adjusting formations so she’s often just a step between you and the speakers or stage effects.
Yoonchae stands closer to you when thunder rolls again.
And Sophia — Sophia doesn’t try to stop the storm. She just stays within reach. Always.
flashback...
The studio had been too bright.
Mirrors lined the walls. Polished floors reflected fluorescent light. The air smelt like sweat, hairspray, and the faint rubber scent of dance sneakers dragging across vinyl.
There were too many bodies in the room. Too many voices overlapping.
Trainees ran choreography in clusters. Staff talked near the back. Someone laughed too loud. Music started and stopped over and over again as formations were corrected.
You had been used to it by then. Used to the chaos. Used to performing even when you were exhausted.
Sophia had been to your right. Close enough that your elbows nearly brushed when you reset formation.
'From the top.' Someone called.
The track restarted. Bass heavy. Sharp. Echoing slightly through the large room. You moved automatically. Muscle memory took over.
Count eight. Turn. Step. Drop.
Everything felt normal. Until—it didn’t.
It happened mid-count. A violent, distorted crack exploded from the left speaker. Not part of the music. Not rhythmic.
Just— POP.
Sharp. Metallic. Wrong. It was loud enough that everyone reacted. A few girls gasped. Someone cursed under their breath. The music cut out completely.
But your body didn’t just react. It detonated.
Your shoulders snapped up so hard it almost hurt. Your hands curled instantly into fists. Your knees locked.
For half a second— You weren’t in the studio anymore. Your breath disappeared. Your ears rang. Your vision narrowed at the edges.
You were waiting for impact, for the screaming. For something worse to follow.
But nothing did.
There was just the hum of the faulty speaker and confused chatter.
'What was that?'
'Did it blow?'
'Oh my god, that scared me.'
Your heart was pounding too fast. Your hands were shaking. You didn’t realise how visible it was until—
'Hey.'
Sophia’s voice. Right beside you. Gentle and low.
You blinked. You were back.
The mirrors. The girls. The staff crouching near the speaker.
You forced your fingers to uncurl.
'I’m good.' You said automatically.
She was watching you closely. Not laughing like some of the others. Not brushing it off.
'You okay?' She asked again, softer this time.
You nodded quickly.
'Yeah. Just—' You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. 'My ears.'
Her brows knit slightly. 'Your ears?'
'They’re sensitive,' you said, words coming out too fast. 'Loud stuff just hits harder. It’s annoying.'
It wasn’t a lie. It was just not all of it.
Another trainee joked from across the room, 'That speaker almost took me out.'
Laughter rippled lightly. You tried to join it. Your hands were still trembling.
Sophia noticed. Her gaze dropped briefly to your fingers. Then back to your face.
The staff announced they’d reset the sound system. Everyone dispersed for water breaks.
You moved toward the wall, pretending to stretch. Sophia followed.
'You sure you're okay?' She asked quietly, keeping her tone casual enough that no one else could clock it.
You nodded again, too quick. 'Yeah, no I'm fine, I promise. It’s fine.'
Her eyes searched your face. You held steady. After a moment, she nodded slowly.
'Okay.' She said.
She didn’t push. Didn’t pry. But she stayed next to you when rehearsal started again.
And when the music came back on, she subtly shifted half a step closer. Not obvious. Not dramatic. Just close enough that if something else went wrong, she’d be there.
You told yourself it was nothing. That everyone jumped. That it had been loud for everyone.
But when you caught your reflection in the mirror, you could still see it in your own eyes. That split second of fear.
And Sophia saw it too. She just didn’t know what it meant yet.
End of flashback...
---
The arena was buzzing, packed to the brim with fans. The lights were blinding, flashing with every beat. The girls moved across the stage in perfect formation, smiles radiant, energy infectious. You had been gliding through the choreography without issue, feeling the adrenaline pulse through your muscles.
You were in the middle of a particularly energetic section when the music dropped out for a brief second. A hush passed over the crowd — just long enough for a faint click to echo across the stage.
You turned your head. And then it happened.
Confetti cannons exploded right behind you.
Not a trick. Not a rehearsal warning. A full-on, glittering, paper storm blasted into the air.
The first spike of noise and sudden movement hit your ears and chest like a jolt.
Instinct took over. Your whole body jumped, your heart hammering. Your eyes widened. You twisted just slightly. Just enough.
Sophia had been next to you the entire time.
And without thinking, you ducked into her side.
Her arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you tight.
The crowd roared — laughing, clapping, some cheering — thinking it was part of your playful stage persona. You pressed your face lightly into her shoulder, trying to calm the spike of panic that still ran through you.
Sophia smiled toward the audience, perfectly composed, giving them the impression that your jump was just a fun, cheeky moment. But beneath the smile, her arms held you firmly. Grounding. Protective.
'I got you.' She whispered softly, her voice just for you. Her hand pressed lightly to the small of your back, steadying you while the music resumed.
Meanwhile, the other girls didn’t miss a beat.
Megan adjusted her steps, sweeping around you to create a slight buffer between you and the remaining confetti blast. Lara and Daniela moved with exaggerated energy in your peripheral vision, drawing the audience’s eyes away from you.
Manon positioned herself just behind Sophia, mirroring her stance, creating a protective little circle that made you feel safe without anyone noticing the choreography had subtly shifted.
You exhaled slowly, letting your heartbeat settle back toward normal. The noise hadn’t gone away, but you could finally breathe again. Sophia’s embrace loosened just slightly, enough to let you peek up at her face.
Her eyes met yours for a split second, just enough for you to see: she’d noticed how scared you were. But she didn’t make a scene. She didn’t ask questions on stage. She simply held you, protecting you in a way that only she could — quietly, confidently, naturally.
The crowd laughed and cheered, oblivious to the real reason behind your jump.
And once the song hit its next beat, you moved again, dancing in formation, but now with Sophia’s hand brushing yours at just the right moments, grounding you every time a noise spike happened.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t overbearing. It was just enough.
A protective rhythm, instinctive, born from years of quietly noticing, from small patterns that only she had picked up on.
By the time the song ended, you were smiling again for the audience, brushing your hair back and laughing off the confetti blast.
But Sophia’s arm remained lightly draped over your shoulders as the two of you stepped toward the wings, the rest of the girls fanning out ahead of you as the stage lights began to dim.
Usually, everyone waved a little longer, lingering at the edge of the stage to soak in the cheers.
Sophia didn’t.
Her hand slid a little more firmly against your upper arm, guiding you toward the exit without hesitation.
She didn’t rush you — just steered you gently through the curtain and into the dimmer hallway beyond the stage.
Fans near the barricade were still screaming, phones lifted high, probably catching every second of it.
Sophia didn’t seem to care. Her focus stayed entirely on you.
'You okay?' She asked quietly, leaning a little closer so her voice didn’t carry. Her thumb rubbed once against your shoulder — a small grounding motion.
You nodded, still catching your breath, a small laugh slipping out as you tried to shake off the lingering adrenaline.
'Yeah,' you murmured. 'Just didn’t expect that one.'
Sophia studied your face for a moment longer, her eyes scanning like she was double-checking every tiny reaction.
Only when she seemed satisfied did the tension in her shoulders ease slightly.
'Good.' She said softly.
But her arm didn’t leave your shoulders. Not even when the rest of the girls gathered nearby, chattering about the performance and high-fiving each other. Not even when staff hurried past with headsets and clipboards.
She stayed right there beside you. Just in case.
And somehow, with her there, the echo of the confetti blast already felt a little further away.
---
The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and Sophia’s lingering shampoo as you sank into the couch, wrapped in your favourite blanket.
Manon and Daniela were on the floor nearby, talking animatedly about some silly TikTok they’d seen. The room felt cosy, familiar, a little bubble of normalcy after the chaos of the day.
Daniela was holding her phone, scrolling while showing Manon something, when—
CLAT!
The phone slipped from her fingers and bounced sharply against the wooden floor.
Your chest jumped, your heart pounding as if you’d been hit. Shoulders tensed. Hands gripped the edge of the couch.
'Oh shit! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!' Daniela exclaimed, rushing to grab it. Her cheeks were flushed, guilt written across her face.
'It’s fine,' you said quickly, holding up your hands in a calming gesture. 'Really. These things happen. Don’t worry about it.'
You tried to smile in reassurance, but your heart was still racing. Why do I still jump at every little thing? You thought, frustration bubbling under the surface. It’s just a phone… just a little noise…
Daniela lingered with the phone in her hands, shaking her head. 'I hate that I scared you,' she murmured. 'I shouldn’t have… I need to fix this.'
You frowned, tired. 'Dani… people can’t just adjust every little thing for me. I know you didn’t mean to—'
'I know,' she interrupted softly, 'but I can do something practical. I will do something.'
The next day, she disappeared for a while and returned with a thick, rubberised phone case. Matte black, bulky enough to absorb impact, but light enough to handle easily.
'It’s… kind of a tank,' she said sheepishly, holding it out to you. 'If I drop my phone again, it won’t make that scary ass loud noise.'
You blinked, half amused, half exasperated. 'Daniela… people can’t just re-arrange their entire lives just for my ears.'
'I know that,' she said quickly, earnest. Her fingers fiddled with the edges of the case. 'But I care about you. You’re my friend, and I… I don’t like seeing you scared like that. So yeah. If this... not so little thing makes it easier for you to relax, then I’ll do it. I want to do it.'
Her words were gentle but determined, the kind of sincerity you couldn’t argue with.
You exhaled slowly, taking the case from her hands. 'I appreciate it. I really do. But promise me you won’t feel like you have to… adjust everything. Life isn’t always going to be safe, Dani.'
Her lips pressed into a small line, nodding. 'I know. And I won’t. But little things? Little things I can do. I’ll do those. For you.'
You couldn’t help but smile a little. It was ridiculous. Cute. Protective in a weird, thoughtful way.
'Fine,' you said softly. 'But this doesn’t mean the world bends to me.'
'Not the world,' she said, her tone teasing just slightly. 'Just your phone, apparently.'
The corners of your lips twitched into a laugh. Your heartbeat was still a little high, but it was easing. And for the first time since the phone had dropped, it felt like the panic had been softened, just a little, by her thoughtfulness.
It wasn’t a fix for everything. It wasn’t a shield against every noise.
But it was something. And that something mattered.
---
It’s supposed to be low-key. Just coffee. Just three of you.
The café is small, warm, filled with the smell of espresso and toasted pastries. Indie music hums softly overhead. Megan is leaning against the counter waiting for your drinks, Lara beside her debating whether she wants a second pastry. You’re standing slightly behind them, half watching the barista, half zoning out at the rain streaking the window.
It feels normal. Almost anonymous.
You like these moments.
Then it happens. A sharp, high-pitched scream tears across the café. Not angry. Not violent. Excited.
But loud. Sudden. Piercing.
It hits you like a physical force.
Your entire body jolts. Shoulders snap up. Your stomach drops. Your pulse spikes instantly, so fast it makes you dizzy.
For half a second the café disappears. Your brain doesn’t see tables or coffee cups. It just hears the sound — sharp and high — and your body braces before your mind can catch up.
You turn sharply toward the sound. Across the café, a table of girls are staring at you — hands over their mouths, eyes wide.
'Oh my god! It’s them! It’s Katseye!'
The second scream is just as loud.
Megan feels you jump. She’s already moving before she fully processes it. Her hand finds your forearm, grounding, steady.
'Hey,' she murmurs under her breath, voice calm but firm. 'It’s okay. Just fans.'
Your heart is still racing. You nod quickly, swallowing the adrenaline. You force your shoulders to drop.
Lara pivots instantly.
Her entire energy shifts — warm, charismatic, leader-mode. She steps slightly forward, smiling brightly at the girls across the café.
'Hi!' She calls gently, her tone controlled but enthusiastic enough to match their excitement without escalating it. 'How are you?'
The girls start whispering loudly among themselves before one of them half-runs toward you, clearly trying not to cause a scene but absolutely causing one anyway.
More heads in the café turn.
A couple at a nearby table look confused. Someone near the door frowns at the noise.
You feel it all at once. The attention. The volume. The way every sudden movement feels amplified.
Megan’s thumb rubs once against your arm — subtle, grounding.
'Breathe.' She says quietly, so only you can hear.
You inhale slowly.
You turn around before the fans fully reach you. By the time they’re in front of you, you’re already smiling. Bright. Polished. Idol-ready.
'Hi!' You say, like you weren’t just shaken to your core.
The girls are shaking almost as much as you are — but for a different reason. They apologize for screaming. They say they didn’t expect to see you. They ask for a photo.
Lara handles the flow beautifully.
'Let’s keep it calm so we don’t scare everyone else,' she says lightly, smiling at them in a way that makes it feel playful instead of corrective. 'We don’t want to get kicked out.'
They giggle, immediately lowering their voices.
Megan stays close to you the entire time. Not hovering. Not obvious. Just close enough that her shoulder occasionally brushes yours.
Every time another excited squeal spikes in pitch, her fingers tap lightly against your back — a steady rhythm. A reminder. You’re safe.
You laugh with the fans. Ask their names. Thank them for supporting Katseye. Pose for pictures.
On the outside, you’re glowing.
On the inside, your nervous system is still slowly coming down from that first scream.
When it’s finally over and the fans retreat to their table — quieter now, but still buzzing — the café never fully returns to its previous calm. People are whispering. Watching. Taking subtle photos.
You glance toward the door.
Megan catches the look instantly. 'Yeah,' she says softly. 'I know.'
Lara exhales through her nose, still smiling for appearances as she grabs the drink tray. 'Okay,' she says under her breath, voice low now that the fans are seated. 'Next time… maybe takeout.'
You blink at her. 'You don’t have to—'
'It’s not just for you,' she interrupts gently. 'We kind of hijacked the vibe in here.' She glances at the confused couple by the window. 'They did not sign up for a surprise mini fan meet.'
Megan nods. 'We can still go out. Just… quieter spots. Or we order ahead.'
There’s no accusation in their voices. No pity. Just adjustment. Practical. Protective.
You swallow, guilt mixing with gratitude. 'I don’t want you guys changing everything because I jump at stuff.'
Megan’s hand slides briefly into yours, squeezing once before letting go.
'We’re not changing everything,' she says. 'We’re adapting. There’s a difference.'
Lara bumps your hip lightly with hers. 'Also, selfishly? I like peaceful coffee. Screaming kind of ruins my croissant experience.'
That pulls a real laugh out of you. The tension in your chest loosens just a little.
You leave together, Megan walking slightly closer to the street side than usual, Lara chatting casually to keep the mood light.
As the café door closes behind you and the outside noise settles into a manageable hum, you finally feel your heartbeat return to something normal.
No one makes it dramatic. No one makes it about weakness. They just… adjust.
Because they love you. And because sometimes protecting you also protects the world around you.
---
The apartment was warmer than usual, sunlight spilling across the hardwood floors. You were in the kitchen, unpacking some groceries while Sophia hummed softly at the counter, scrolling through her phone.
Yoonchae had been oddly busy all morning — moving things around, muttering to herself as she went from room to room. You had assumed she was just tidying or rearranging the apartment for aesthetic purposes. She always liked things orderly, that much you knew.
'Do we have a new cutting board or something?' You asked, spotting her kneeling in front of the lower cupboards, rifling through drawers.
'Uh… not really,' she replied casually, eyes on the back of a cupboard door. 'Just checking for… better cookware.'
You raised an eyebrow. 'Better how?'
She didn’t look up. 'Uh… quieter. Less banging when you use it.'
'Quieter?' You echoed, blinking at her. 'Yoonchae, the sound of a pan is… a pan. You can’t—'
She straightened, holding up a small frying pan with a soft, matte finish. 'I mean… it’s not perfect, but this one won’t clang against metal as much. Just… easier on the ears if something slips or hits the stove.'
You froze, realising the subtext — this wasn’t just random kitchen prep. She was thinking about you. The way sudden sounds made you jump, even small ones that most people ignored.
'You… bought this for me?' You asked softly, feeling your chest tighten.
Yoonchae smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 'I mean… partially for cooking, mostly because I noticed some stuff around here makes a lot of noise. Cupboards, drawers, even the floor. And I figured…' She trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed but determined.
You started noticing things around the apartment more clearly — sticky rubber bumpers on the backs of cupboard doors, so they didn’t slam shut.
Large, soft rugs covering sections of the hardwood floor, dampening the sound if anything fell. Windows she always shut gently when she noticed them open to avoid sudden gusts or clattering.
All of it had been happening quietly, without you realising it. You’d just thought Yoonchae was making the apartment 'comfy' or adjusting things for aesthetic or functional reasons.
'I… I don’t know what to say,' you admitted, moving closer. 'You can’t adjust everything for me, Yoonchae. People drop things, doors slam… I just—'
'I know,' she said softly, holding your gaze. 'I’m not trying to control everything. I’m just… trying to soften it where I can. For you. You jump less when the apartment’s… prepared. It’s easier for both of us.'
You felt your chest loosen slightly, a mixture of awe and warmth settling over you. It was such a small thing, almost invisible, but it spoke volumes.
You walked over and pressed your hand against hers, gently. 'I… appreciate this. Really. But don’t think you have to tiptoe around every little sound for me.'
She shrugged, eyes bright. 'Not tiptoeing. Just… softening the edges a little.'
And in that quiet apartment, with sunlight spilling across the floor and the faint smell of coffee in the air, it was easier to breathe. Easier to feel safe.
Not because the world was quieter. Not because sounds stopped existing.
But because someone was quietly, thoughtfully, adjusting what they could. For you.
---
You had always known Sophia was attentive.
But it wasn’t until a quiet afternoon errand that you truly saw how far that attentiveness stretched.
The mall wasn’t even that crowded. Just the usual hum of shoppers, distant music from storefront speakers, the occasional rattle of a hanger sliding across a metal rack.
You and Sophia had only come to grab coffee before heading back to the dorm.
You walked beside her, keys tucked into your hoodie pocket, half-focused on a text from Megan that buzzed on your phone.
Sophia, meanwhile, wasn’t looking at her phone at all. She was watching everything else.
Not obviously. Anyone passing by would have assumed she was just strolling ahead a step or two, hands casually tucked into the pockets of her oversized jacket.
But she was scanning.
A group of teenagers clustered near the sneaker store — loud, but stationary. A toddler wobbling out of a toy shop with a plastic truck clutched in his hands. A maintenance worker pushing a metal cart toward the escalators.
All harmless.
Still, Sophia subtly shifted her path.
You didn’t even notice when she drifted half a step in front of you.
It wasn’t until the kid dropped the toy. The plastic truck hit the tile floor with a sharp crack. Your shoulders flinched before you could stop them.
But Sophia’s hand was already there.
Her fingers slid into yours — not grabbing, not urgent. Just warm and steady.
Grounding.
You exhaled slowly, letting your body settle again. She didn’t say anything. She never did.
Instead, she tugged you gently toward the coffee shop just ahead, guiding you to a small corner table tucked against the wall.
The espresso machine hissed loudly behind the counter, but the clatter of cups was softer here, buffered by the hum of conversation and the padded booth seating.
You blinked at the spot she’d chosen.
'Did you—' You started.
Sophia just shrugged, already sliding into the seat across from you. 'Good table.' She said lightly.
Your lips twitched into a small smile.
It wasn’t until later that night you realised she’d been doing it all day.
The careful positioning. The subtle shifts. The way she always seemed to be between you and the loudest parts of the world.
It became impossible not to notice after that. Like during award-show prep a few weeks later.
The makeup suite buzzed with energy — stylists rushing between chairs, hairspray hanging thick in the air, palettes and brushes scattered across the bright vanities.
You dropped into the chair assigned to you, distracted by the chaos of it all.
Sophia lingered near the doorway. Quiet. Watching. No one paid her much attention as she leaned against the wall.
But the makeup team had already received a quick whisper from her before you’d arrived.
'Put the palettes on towels,' she’d murmured gently. 'If something drops, it won’t clang.'
The artist nodded, sliding a folded towel beneath the trays without question.
Sophia still adjusted one brush herself, nudging it a fraction closer to the centre.
You only caught on when a makeup brush rolled from the counter. Instead of clattering against the vanity, it landed softly against the towel with a muted thud.
Your eyes flicked up to her. Sophia pretended she hadn’t noticed. But the corner of her mouth curved just slightly.
You reached out as the artist leaned closer to apply shimmer to your eyelid.
Your fingers brushed against Sophia’s hand for just a second. A silent thank-you. She squeezed back once.
It wasn’t about controlling the world. Sophia knew she couldn’t stop every car horn in LA traffic or every cheer from fans outside venues.
But she could soften the edges.
If a horn blared suddenly while you crossed a street, her hand would find yours without hesitation. If someone dropped something nearby, she shifted closer instinctively, her shoulder brushing yours like a quiet shield.
Thunderstorms on tour. Unexpected fan screams outside hotels. The unpredictable chaos of crowds. She couldn’t silence it.
But she could be there when it happened. And somehow, that made it easier to breathe.
Your relationship wasn’t public. Only the girls and management knew. Which meant most of Sophia’s care existed in moments no one else would notice.
A pinky hooking with yours under the table. A kiss pressed quickly against the corner of your mouth in the apartment hallway. Her hand resting on your knee during late-night movie marathons.
Quiet little gestures. Private ones. But you noticed them. Every single one.
And you returned them in your own ways — lingering touches, soft smiles, leaning into her side just a little longer than necessary.
Because the truth was simple. Sophia didn’t make a show of protecting you. She never announced it. She never turned it into something dramatic.
She just did it. Constant, steady and unwavering.
And somewhere between crowded malls, makeup chairs, and the endless chaos of idol life, you realised something that made your chest feel warm every time you looked at her.
No matter how loud the world got… Sophia was always the quiet place you could come back to.
---
The stage was alive with lights, glittering screens, and the roar of thousands of fans. The air felt electric, every beat of the music vibrating through your chest. Katseye was in perfect formation, smiles radiant, energy high.
You were moving through the choreography with practiced precision, the adrenaline masking the faint tension in your nerves. It had been a smooth performance so far. Too smooth — the calm before the storm.
It came without warning.
Daniela, caught mid-spin in a tight formation, collided lightly with Manon.
It was just an accident — one she couldn’t have predicted — but the momentum sent Manon’s microphone flying across the stage.
CLANG!
The mic hit the ground with a sharp squeal amplified through your in-ear monitors.
Your entire body jolted. Every muscle stiffened, every nerve screaming.
You yanked the earpiece from your ear reflexively, heart hammering in your chest.
The audience gasped, lights blinking, unaware that the squeal had triggered something far beyond normal surprise.
Sophia’s hand was on your lower back before you even realised she had moved. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t scan the audience. She didn’t calculate what to do in terms of performance or choreography. Her only priority in that moment was you.
She didn’t even think about the cameras. Didn’t think about choreography. Her body just moved.
'Y/N,' she murmured softly, her hand firm against your back. 'You’re okay. It’s okay.'
Her voice was steady, calm, and it immediately drew you down from the spike of panic that had shot through you.
You could feel the tension leaving your shoulders, your grip on your costume loosening slightly. She stayed close, brushing a strand of hair from your face, her eyes locking onto yours as if to say: Nothing matters right now except you.
Around you, the performance continued. Daniela and Manon recovered quickly, still mid-dance, while Lara and Megan subtly adjusted their movements to create a small buffer between you and the stage chaos.
The audience noticed something different.
Sophia wasn’t just standing there leading choreography or giving cues. She was present, fully, entirely, and without hesitation, right in front of you, shielding you with her presence.
Fans in the front rows gasped, then cheered as they realised the leader of Katseye had paused ever so slightly to make sure one of the members was okay. Cameras flashed, phones recorded, and the clip immediately started making its way across social media.
But fans only saw half the story.
They didn’t see your pulse racing, your hands gripping your costume, your stomach fluttering with panic. They didn’t see the quiet exhale that came as Sophia’s hand held you, grounding you amidst the noise and chaos.
They didn’t see the subtle brush of her thumb along your spine, or the gentle tilt of her head as she murmured reassurances only you could hear.
After a few seconds, you nodded, finally able to move again. Sophia’s hand lingered just long enough for you to catch it, giving you a small squeeze before letting go.
'Ready?' She whispered, a tiny smile touching her lips.
You nodded again, brushing imaginary panic from your shoulders. You slipped your earpiece back in carefully, Sophia still close enough to respond instantly if you flinched again.
The rest of the performance went on without further incident, though the clip of the mic squeal and Sophia’s protective moment spread like wildfire. Fans commented:
'Wow, Sophia is such a caring leader!'
'She didn’t even hesitate to make sure everyone’s okay!'
'Katseye’s teamwork is goals.'
Little did they know… it wasn’t just leadership. It was love.
After the show, backstage was a flurry of high-fives, congratulations, and cleanup. You leaned slightly against Sophia, grateful for her silent vigilance.
'Thank you.' You murmured, almost shyly, as the adrenaline finally faded.
She glanced down at you, one hand brushing your hair back as she leaned just a fraction closer. 'Always.' She said softly, her voice low and personal, just for you.
You allowed yourself a small, secret smile, brushing your lips against hers in a quick, intimate kiss behind the curtain. No one saw it. No one needed to.
The fans may have seen the clip. The world may have thought it was a leader protecting a team member in the moment.
But only you knew the full truth: Sophia would always be there, quietly, instinctively, with you as her number one priority — on stage, off stage, everywhere.
And that made even the loudest squeals feel a little easier to face.
---
The apartment was warm, lights low, the faint hum of a playlist drifting through the air. You sank into the couch, wrapped in your favourite blanket, a mug of tea warming your hands. The chaos of the day — fans, rehearsals, microphones, and the small surprises that always seemed to pop up — was fading into the background.
You looked around at the girls. Lara was perched on the arm of the couch, scrolling through her phone but occasionally glancing up to make sure you were comfortable.
Daniela was nearby, fiddling with her rubberised phone case, a small smirk on her face as she occasionally glances toward you, almost challenging fate not to make her drop anything again.
Manon, Megan and Yoonchae were in the kitchen, Yoonchae cooking whilst Megan moved quietly, ensuring the windows were shut against the evening breeze, while Manon set a plate of cookies on the coffee table.
And Sophia was sitting closest to you, her hand resting lightly on your knee, thumb brushing in slow circles. Her presence was steady, unwavering, protective — everything you didn’t have to ask for.
You let yourself exhale, taking it all in.
The truth was simple. You weren’t going to change. You would always jump at sudden noises, flinch at unexpected sounds, startle when things went wrong — it was part of who you were.
You couldn’t unhear, unfeel, or undo the reactions your body had trained over years of sensitivity. And you didn’t want to hide that anymore.
Because you weren’t alone.
Each of the girls had found their own ways to help. Lara with her infectious calm and quick thinking. Daniela with her thoughtfulness, literally cushioning your world. Yoonchae with her careful adjustments, anticipating problems before they happened.
Megan with her steady grounding, subtle but always there. Manon with her quiet support, keeping the practical side in line so you could breathe. And Sophia… well, Sophia was everywhere at once — instinctive, protective, loving, always anticipating, always prioritizing you.
You pressed your hand over Sophia’s, leaning slightly into her. 'I… I just wanted to say… I appreciate all of you,' you murmured, voice soft but full. 'All the things you do for me. The little things. The big things. I… I notice. Even when I don’t say it. I notice.'
Sophia’s eyes softened, a small smile playing at her lips. 'We know,' she said quietly, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. 'We love you. And… that’s enough.'
You shook your head slightly, a small laugh escaping. 'It’s not enough to just love me. You all… you make my life easier. Safer. Less scary. And I… I can’t explain how much that means.'
Daniela peeked from across the room, grinning sheepishly. 'Well… maybe we’ve just been training for this our whole lives, huh?'
'You mean baby-proofing the world for Y/N?' Lara added, nudging you gently with her shoulder.
You laughed, the tension in your chest loosening further. 'If that's what you wanna call it.'
Sophia leaned closer, resting her head lightly against yours. 'You’ll manage,' she whispered, voice soft, confident. 'Because you have us. And because I’m right here. Always.'
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth and care of everyone around you settle into your chest. The world would still be loud. Accidents would still happen. Thunderstorms, clattering dishes, microphones, honking cars — nothing would change that.
But it didn’t feel as scary anymore. Not with the girls. Not with Sophia.
You smiled, tilting your head to brush a soft kiss against hers, small but full of everything you felt: gratitude, trust, love, and relief.
No matter what the world threw at you, you knew you’d be okay. You had your family, your friends, your girls — and Sophia, who would always be your anchor in the noise.
And that was more than enough.
You sipped your tea, the warmth spreading through you. The apartment was quiet for now. Safe. Filled with laughter, care, and love.
And you let yourself breathe, knowing that however startled or overwhelmed you might get in the future, you would never have to face it alone.
Because you had them. Because you had Sophia. Always.
Hello! Idk if your asks are still open but I have a one shot idea where 7th member of katseye reader (who’s dating Sophia-not to the eyekon’s knowledge)is sensitive or afraid of loud/sudden sounds so the Kats find a way to help soothe her through them (esp Sophia but more subtly ofc) like when being ambushed by paparazzi,during concerts (when confetti explodes mid performance), thunderstorms, when having unexpected fan encounters when meeting fans (like after the concert and stuff) etc. Thank you!!~
Hello! love this idea! its out now -> here <- thank you for requesting and thank you for providing scenarios hehe. hope you enjoy!