Twin, you & I, we drifted apart.
Like the white clouds under the stars
—Ahn Keonho
pairing: Ahn Keonho x f!reader
w.c: 11.6k
extra + warnings: angst no comfort, teenagers being teenagers, kind of red flaggy keonho, swearing, arguments, emotional conflict, seperation
synopsis: High school friend groups come with their own drama—messy breakups, weird tension, and the one rule everyone knows: don’t date your friend’s ex. But some things sit quietly between the lines, and what sits there its what people usually miss, but you? you notice them. Especially when it comes to Keonho.
Friend groups in high school don’t really form in some big cinematic way like they do in movies. It doesn’t start with some intentional, fated meeting in kindergarten. Most of the time it’s way less dramatic than that. People just start sitting together, then talking more, and suddenly months later you realize these are the same six or seven people you're going to see every single day.
That’s basically how your group happened.
At the start of grade 9 it was mainly just you and Iroha. You both had been friends long enough that it felt natural—like a routine—walking into school together, sitting next to each other without asking, sharing snacks when one of you forgot lunch. Iroha was the type of person who could talk to absolutely anyone, which meant your circle was always expanding slightly. Whether you planned it or not.
Around the start of the second semester, Seonghyeon showed up because of math.
He started sitting next to you during math class after realising you were good at it and he definitely wasn’t. At first it was just him asking to borrow your notes.
Then it became questions during class.
Then complaints.
Lots of complaints.
Within a month he had somehow inserted himself into your lunch table like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Nobody actually objected, mainly because he was entertaining.
He had strong opinions about everything, especially teachers—especially your math teacher, oh did he hate her. The way he delivered the hatred made even boring mornings feel less boring.
Keonho joined because of him.
Seonghyeon knew him from swim practice and one day he just showed up behind him at lunch like a pet that follows you in video games.
“This is Keonho,” Seonghyeon said that day, dropping his tray down as he pointed beside him. “He swims.” he said, eyes on the food.
Keonho blinked at him. “That’s your introduction?”
“You do swim.”
“That’s not my entire personality.”
Seonghyeon laughed and started eating.
Keonho still sat down.
The first thing anyone noticed about him was the chlorine smell and the wet hair still dripping down his back, leaving a mark on his uniform.
He’d clearly come straight from practice. He had that ‘worn out but functioning’ look student athletes often have after training. Iroha noticed it immediately and leaned across the table with her eyes squinting.
“Why do you smell like a public swimming pool?”
Keonho looked mildly offended. “That’s the smell of hard work, and it kind of is a swimming pool? A private one though.”
“That’s the smell of chemicals and arrogance." Iroha replied with her eyebrows raised.
You laughed quietly into your drink while Seonghyeon nearly choked on his food.
Keonho didn’t say much that first lunch. He mostly just listened, occasionally throwing a comment here and there when Seonghyeon got too dramatic about something.
But he came back the next day.
And the day after that.
Soon it just felt normal.
Over time he started talking a little more.
Not a lot, but enough that you noticed.
At first it was small things. Comments under his breath when Seonghyeon said something ridiculous. A quiet “that’s not how that works” whenever someone got a math problem wrong. Once he leaned over during class and asked you how you finished a question so fast.
You explained it.
He nodded like it made sense immediately.
After that he started asking more.
Sometimes about homework.
Sometimes about random things during lunch.
The conversations weren’t long, just easy. The kind where you look up halfway through and realize everyone else at the table had moved on to a completely different topic.
It wasn’t something anyone pointed out.
It just…. happened.
You and Keonho were close, but not in the way people usually describe friendships. You talked often enough, knew small things about each other, but there was still an odd distance there. Like you were somewhere between acquaintances and actual friends; neither of you quite sure where the line was.
Amy joined a little later, mostly because she and Iroha had been friends since middle school. Amy was the kind of person who naturally filled space in a conversation. She laughed loudly, somehow always knew what everyone was talking about even if she’d only been sitting there for five minutes, and most importantly was insanely smart— flawless report card smart, and on top of that? Gorgeous. She too started coming to lunch sometimes.
Then more often.
Eventually it was every day.
Wonhee and Minju sort of happened after that, though neither of them technically “joined” in some official way. Wonhee had a habit of drifting over during lunch because she already knew Amy from one of her classes. At first she’d just sit nearby, occasionally including herself into whatever stupid argument Seonghyeon had started that day. Then one afternoon she just… stayed. Wonhee was louder than the rest of the group but not too loud. She had this energetic way of saying things that caught everyone off guard.
Minju started showing up not long after that, mostly because she and Wonhee were basically inseparable. Where Wonhee filled the silence between conversations, Minju did the opposite. She was quieter, the type who listened more than she talked. When she did say something, though, it was usually the kind of comment that made everyone pause for a second before laughing. She noticed things other people missed — small expressions, side comments— even the passive aggressive ones, the weird little dynamics happening around the table. She didn’t try to take attention, but somehow she still ended up being part of everything anyway.
Before long, the lunch table just… adjusted again.
Seven people now.
Still the same loud cafeteria table.
Still the same routine nobody ever officially talked about. And then suddenly it was grade 10, the group remained the same and lunch was still the loudest part of the day.
And it was obnoxiously loud, the kind of noise that happens when everyone’s talking over each other and laughing too loud. Nobody really cares about finishing their sentences because the joke delivers perfectly midway.
One afternoon Seonghyeon dropped into his seat looking like someone had personally offended him.
“I swear that math teacher hates me.” he announced dramatically.
“You say that every week.” you said.
“Because it’s consistently true. It’s like one of those stupid linear equation thingies.”
Iroha leaned back in her chair. “Didn’t you literally turn in a blank test yesterday?”
“It was iconic.”
“It was stupid.” You said, barely paying attention to Hyeon.
Across the table Keonho made a quiet snorting sound into his water bottle. You glanced over at him and caught the quick smile he was trying to hide.
Seonghyeon pointed his fork accusingly. “You think this is funny?”
“You’re not helping yourself by failing are you?” Keonho said.
“Wow. Betrayal.” Seonghyeon said dramatically with his palm on his chest
“You asked.”
Amy leaned forward, clearly entertained. “Honestly I think the teacher knows you’re going to fail anyway and doesn’t want to waste her time, she doesn't get paid enough for this anyway.”
Seonghyeon looked genuinely wounded. “Amy, I thought we were friends.”
“We are. That’s why I’m honest.”
You shook your head, trying not to laugh.
Moments like that were basically every lunch. Someone complaining, someone clocking them for it, and Keonho quietly observing everything like he was half entertained by the chaos.
For someone who spent most of his mornings swimming laps in silence, he seemed surprisingly comfortable around noise.
Keonho’s schedule revolved around swimming.
Practice started ridiculously early— 5 a.m. early, which meant most mornings he looked half awake when he showed up to school. Sometimes you’d see him walking into the first period with wet hair and a hoodie thrown on like he’d gotten ready in under two minutes. And oh lord. The smell of chlorine would fill up the whole room within 5 minutes of him entering it.
Seonghyeon loved making fun of it.
“You voluntarily reek of chlorine and you wake up before 4:30 a.m.??” he said once, shaking his head. “That’s borderline psychotic.”
“It’s called discipline.”
“It’s called unnecessary suffering.”
“You literally stay up until three playing games.”
“That’s different.” Seonghyeon defends himself.
“How?” Keonho says with his eyebrows raised up
“It’s fun.”
Keonho rolled his eyes but he was smiling slightly, smiling while he looked at you. He sat next to you and the day continued as usual, snarky comments, random jokes and groaning in annoyance when the teacher started doing too much.
You noticed things about him the more time passed. Not in some dramatic way. Just little details that stuck.
He was talkative around you and Hyeon but quieter with the rest of the group, not shy though. He simply hadn't warmed up enough.
He listened more than he talked. But around the middle of the semester, he started warming up to the group more.
Whenever he said something, it usually made everyone smile a little too hard and laugh a little too loud, especially Amy.. she smiled a little too much and laughed a little too loud, like there was intention behind it.
Amy started talking to him more around the middle of the semester, which may have been why he warmed up to everyone else sooner than expected but who knows.
At first it was just random comments between them during lunch.
Then jokes.
Then the kind of conversations that slowly stretch longer and longer without anyone really noticing.
One day Seonghyeon leaned over to you during lunch and whispered, “Are they flirting?”
You glanced across the table where Amy and Keonho were sitting too close, arguing about something stupid.
“You think everything is flirting.”
“They’ve been talking for like twenty minutes.”
“They’re arguing about pizza toppings.”
“Exactly.”
You ignored him. You had a weird feeling about this, it felt weird.
You felt side lined, but why should you? You and Keonho are just friends right?
But eventually everyone noticed what Seonghyeon was on about.
It was the starting of grade 11 when everyone realised how Amy would sit closer to Keonho without thinking about it. Keonho would actually start conversations instead of just reacting to whatever chaos the group was already creating.
It wasn’t dramatic.
Just gradual.
By the time the first semester's end came around, nobody was that surprised when Seonghyeon casually announced at lunch one day, “So apparently these two are dating now.”
Amy threw a fry at him immediately.
“Can you not announce private shit like that??”
Keonho looked equally annoyed. “We were literally going to tell them today.”
Seonghyeon grinned. “I saved you the trouble.”
Iroha clapped once like she’d been waiting for this moment.
“Finally. That tension was getting annoying.”
Amy groaned. “There was no tension.”
“Please,” Iroha said. “You two were obvious.”
You glanced at Keonho then, just briefly.
He looked right back at you.
He looked slightly embarrassed but not unhappy.
Actually… he looked kind of proud.
Like the decision had taken him a while but he was glad it had finally happened.
And that was basically the start of Amy and Keonho.
At first everything seemed easy.
They sat closer together. They even walked to class together sometimes. Amy would show up at swim meets with snacks and loudly complain about how long swimming events took.
“You literally just swim back and forth,” she said once after practice. “How is that a sport people watch?”
“It’s competitive.”
“It’s repetitive.”
“You still came.”
“Because I’m supportive.”
Keonho laughed at that, shaking water out of his hair while she pretended to be offended. From the outside, it looked like it worked.
But if you paid attention—really paid attention—you could see the small things that didn’t quite line up.
Amy liked affection when it was casual.
Keonho was careful about showing it. Sometimes he’d reach for her hand and hesitate halfway like he wasn’t sure if he should. Sometimes Amy would pull away without meaning to.
It was subtle. The kind of tension that only shows up in tiny pauses. And the rest of the group mostly ignored it. Because from the outside? Everything still looked normal.
Lunch was still loud, Seonghyeon was still dramatic, Iroha still roasted everyone and Keonho still smelled faintly like chlorine most mornings.
Life kept moving the way it always did.
At least for a while.
It had been 4 months since Amy and Keonho started dating. At first, nobody really cared.
Not in a bad way—just in the way things tend to settle after the excitement of something new wears off. When they first got together it had been a whole event. Seonghyeon made a huge deal out of it for two weeks straight, Iroha kept claiming she ‘saw it coming from day one.’ and Wonhee had asked Amy multiple questions about how it happened.
But eventually the craze faded.
They were just Amy and Keonho again.
Except now they sat next to each other more often.
Sometimes Amy would lean against his shoulder and casually touch his arm when she laughed. Sometimes Keonho would slide his tray closer to hers without thinking. Occasionally they’d disappear for a few minutes during lunch and come back mid-conversation like nothing had happened.
None of it was dramatic.
If anything, it felt weirdly normal.
The group still sat at the same loud cafeteria table. Seven trays crowded together, phones piled in the middle of the table, someone always talking too loudly while someone else tried to interrupt.
Seonghyeon still complained about teachers like it was his only purpose.
Iroha still made fun of him.
Wonhee reacted to everything like it was breaking news.
Minju listened quietly before dropping one perfectly timed comment that made everyone laugh.
And you—well, you mostly watched everything unfold the way you always did.
You noticed things.
Little things.
You’d always been like that.
It was probably why you were the first one to realize something about Amy and Keonho wasn’t quite right anymore.
Not wrong but, just…off.
At first it was small.
Amy liked casual affection. That part hadn’t changed. She leaned on people when she laughed, bumped shoulders during conversations, and stole food from other trays without asking.
When she did it to Keonho, he usually looked surprised for half a second before letting it happen. Sometimes he’d awkwardly adjust his arm so she could lean more comfortably and other times he’d freeze like he didn’t know where to put his hands.
You noticed that too.
Keonho wasn’t great with casual affection.
But when he tried to be serious—when he actually tried to say something meaningful, that was when things started to feel strange. She started to pull back.
One day during lunch he had been explaining something about swim practice, talking about an upcoming meet that actually mattered to him.
Amy had been listening at first.
Then halfway through his explanation she turned to Wonhee. “Wait, did you see that thing Minju sent in the group chat?”
Just like that their conversation was over.
Keonho stopped mid-sentence.
Nobody said anything about it.
But you saw the tiny pause before he picked up his drink and took a sip like it didn’t matter.
You noticed it again two days later.
Amy had been talking about a test she aced, dramatically describing how she’d ‘singlehandedly saved her GPA.’ Keonho listened the entire time.
When she finished he smiled and said, “I told you you’d do fine.”
She laughed and shoved his shoulder lightly.
“Obviously.”
The moment passed quickly.
But something about the exchange sat oddly with you.
It wasn’t the words.
It was the rhythm.
Amy moved through conversations quickly, like she always had. She bounced between topics, people, ideas—mind everywhere all at once.
Keonho had a slower pace.
When he spoke, it was usually because he actually had something to say.
When those two rhythms matched, it worked.
When they didn’t, things felt…uneven. Almost like watching a movie where the subtitles lag a minute behind the scene.
You noticed that too, but no one else seemed to care.
Seonghyeon definitely didn’t.
He was too busy arguing with Iroha about whether the math teacher graded unfairly— the same argument they've had every day for 3 years...
“She literally marked me wrong for writing the answer in a different step.” he complained.
“That’s because your steps made no sense dude, LOOK AT THEM” Iroha said enraged.
“They made perfect sense.” Seonghyeon defended
“To you.” Iroha said flatly, giving up.
Keonho snorted quietly.
Seonghyeon pointed at him. “Don’t laugh. You’re on my side.”
“I’m really not.”
The table burst into laughter.
Amy leaned forward, grinning. “Wait, what even happened?”
Seonghyeon launched into another dramatic explanation.
For a while the tension disappeared under the noise of normal conversation. Which was how most of the initial problems stayed hidden. They were small enough to drown out.
Still, you noticed patterns.
Amy liked attention—not in a selfish way, just naturally. Conversations tended to orbit around her energy. When she talked, people listened. When she laughed, everyone else laughed too.
Keonho didn’t try to compete with that.
He never had.
Instead he waited for moments in between.
Small conversations.
Side comments.
Little exchanges that happened while the rest of the table argued about something ridiculous. Sometimes those moments worked and sometimes they didn’t.
One afternoon you were sitting in homeroom—the same room you shared with Iroha, Seonghyeon and Keonho since grade 9.
That had always been the funny thing about your group.
The four of you spent most of the school day together anyway.
Same homeroom.
Same hallway.
Amy, Wonhee and Minju were usually on the other side of the building.
It had never been a big deal before.
But lately the difference felt more noticeable.
Seonghyeon was leaning back in his chair while Keonho worked on a math worksheet beside you. Iroha had her feet propped on the desk in front of her.
“Twin, you’re doing that wrong.” Keonho muttered suddenly.
You looked down at your paper.
“I’m literally not.”
He leaned closer— too close, pointing at the equation.
“You skipped a step.”
“It still works.”
“It’s messy.”
You rolled your eyes but rewrote it anyway.
He nodded approvingly. From across the row, Iroha watched the interaction with a smirk.
“You two are such nerds.”
“You’re failing math.”
“I’m passing.” Seonghyeon replied instantly.
“Barely.”
“Passing is passing.”
Keonho shook his head dramatically, smiling slightly.
Moments like that felt easy. Normal.
You didn’t think much about them at the time.
But looking back later, those quiet homeroom interactions were probably why the four of you always ended up leaning onto each other.
Not intentionally.
Just naturally.
Meanwhile Amy’s side of the group had its own rhythm. Wonhee reacted loudly to everything Amy said. Minju observed quietly but always seemed to understand what Amy meant even when she didn’t finish her sentence. They had their own dynamic too. And for a while, both parts still met in the middle every day at lunch.
Until one afternoon when things shifted slightly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to notice.
The seven of you were sitting together like usual. Seonghyeon was halfway through complaining about swim practice schedules.
“Why do they make you wake up at 4:30 in the morning?” he groaned.
Keonho shrugged. “Because it’s practice.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
Amy laughed.
“You could never be an athlete.”
“I don’t want to be an athlete.”
“You say that because you can’t.”
Seonghyeon gasped dramatically.“That was rude.”
“True though.”
The conversation continued. But halfway through lunch, Amy stood up.
“Wait, Wonhee, come with me to the vending machine.” Wonhee immediately followed. Minju hesitated for a second before grabbing her tray and standing too.
“We’ll be back.” she said. Nobody thought much of it. Except they didn’t come back. By the time lunch ended, the three of them were sitting two tables away talking. Not in a secretive way. Just… somewhere else.
Soon, Amy and Wonhee sat together first followed by Minju. All side by side now.
You, Seonghyeon, Iroha sat in front and Keonho beside Amy. Still the same group. Just with slightly more distant energy.
No one mentioned it and soon the pattern started feeling normal.
Not hostile.
Not tense.
Just different.
The group hadn’t broken apart.
It had simply… divided.
Amy, Wonhee and Minju together.
You, Iroha, Seonghyeon and Keonho together.
It made sense in quiet ways.
You four shared homeroom. You saw each other more often during the day anyway. Conversations carried over from class to lunch naturally.
Amy’s side of the group had their own energy too—fast, expressive, loud.
The split wasn’t dramatic.
If anything, it felt strangely practical.
But even as everyone adjusted, the tension between Amy and Keonho didn’t disappear.
If anything, you started noticing it more clearly now that the noise of the full table wasn’t drowning it out.
Like the day Amy brought up an upcoming school event.
“You’re coming, right?” she asked Keonho.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“With the group?”
“Probably?” Amy tilted her head slightly.
“That’s not a real answer.”
Keonho frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean are you actually coming with me or are you just showing up.” There was a tiny pause.
“Is there a difference?”
Amy didn’t answer immediately. Then she shrugged.
“Forget it.”
Conversation over.
Seonghyeon started talking about something else. But you caught the way Keonho stared at his tray for a second longer than usual. Little moments like that kept happening. Small enough that no one addressed them. But big enough that you kept noticing. And for the first time, the idea started forming quietly in the back of your mind. Maybe things between Amy and Keonho weren’t as simple as everyone thought.
Not yet broken.
But slowly, quietly—starting to crack.
For a while after that conversation between Keonho and Amy, nothing actually happened.
At least nothing obvious.
Amy and Keonho still sat next to each other at lunch. They still walked together sometimes after school. From the outside, it didn’t look like anything had changed. If someone asked, they were still dating, still part of the same group, still moving through the same routine everyone had fallen into since the start of the year.
But the tension didn’t disappear.
If anything, it just settled somewhere under the surface.
You noticed it in the way their conversations sometimes ended a little too quickly. The way Amy occasionally went quiet after something Keonho said, even when it wasn’t a big deal. The way Keonho started hesitating slightly before speaking, like he was trying to decide whether something was worth saying out loud.
No one called it out.
At lunch, the group still sounded the same—Seonghyeon arguing about something ridiculous, Wonhee reacting loudly to every new topic, Iroha making dry comments from the side. Minju watched everything quietly like she always did.
The noise at the table covered a lot of things. Especially the growing tension
But you started noticing the smaller things.
Like the day someone brought up the school festival.
Amy glanced at Keonho. “You’re helping with the photobooth, right?”
“Probably,” he said.
“Probably?”
“I mean….yeah, if the teacher makes us.”
Amy looked at him for a second. “You always answer like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re leaving room to escape.”
Keonho sighed slightly. “It’s just a festival.”
Amy let out a small breath through her nose. “Forget it.”
The conversation moved on almost immediately after that. But you still noticed the way Keonho stared at his tray for a moment longer than usual.
Moments like that kept happening. Small enough that no one addressed them. But big enough that they never fully disappeared either.
And eventually, the thing Amy had been holding onto finally came out.
It happened one afternoon when the group was sitting together like usual. The cafeteria was loud, conversations overlapping across the table the same way they always did. Plates clinked, chairs scraped, and someone a few tables over was laughing at something barely audible, but none of that mattered. Nothing about this moment felt odd at first.
Amy had been unusually quiet for most of lunch. Normally she carried herself through the conversation effortlessly, commanding attention without trying, but today there was a stiffness to her posture, a tension in the way she set her tray down and folded her arms.
Keonho noticed it eventually.
“Dude, you’re being weird,” he said casually, glancing at her.
She looked up, eyes narrowed slightly. “Weird how?”
“You’re not talking.”
“I talk all the time.”
“Exactly.”
For a second, she just stared at him, quiet but heavy with something he couldn’t place. Then she laughed once under her breath, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t amusement. It was the kind of laugh that felt like an edge, sharp and uncomfortable.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
Keonho shrugged. “Sure.”
Amy leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossing loosely, and fixed him with a look that could slice through steel. “Why did you call that girl hot?”
The question landed at the worst possible moment, right between a chaotic conversation everyone else was having about two random teachers supposedly running away and getting married. The table was still loud, but the words cut through anyway—enough that the people nearest immediately noticed the tension spike.
Keonho blinked. He froze for a fraction of a second. “What?”
“That girl,” Amy repeated, her tone sharp now. “The one Seonghyeon was talking about the other day. I didn't hear her name but I don't care enough to know.”
Realization flickered across his face. “Oh, her?”
“Yes, that one.”
He exhaled slightly, already looking tired of having the conversation in the middle of the cafeteria. “It was for Seonghyeon.” he said.
“Oh my god.” Seonghyeon groaned, turning his head toward you and Iroha, clearly wishing he hadn’t been dragged into this.
“You were literally there??” Keonho said, defensively.
“That does not mean I want to be involved now.” Seonghyeon replied, voice louder than usual.
Amy didn’t look at him. Her eyes stayed on Keonho, menacing, accusing. “So that makes it fine?”
“I was helping him,” Keonho said. “He asked if she was attractive.”
“And you just said yes.”
“Yes.” He took another bite of his food, almost trying not to be bothered by the conversation, like eating might somehow distract from the tension.
Amy shook her head slowly, disbelief creeping in. “You’re unbelievable.”
“It wasn’t flirting.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
Amy leaned forward slightly now, frustration finally breaking out. “The point is you’re my boyfriend, and you’re sitting there talking about other girls being hot.”
“I said one sentence.”
“And you don’t see anything wrong with that?”
“Because there isn’t anything wrong with that.”
The moment the words left his mouth, it made everything worse. The air felt suddenly heavier. Everyone at the table sensed it. Nobody moved, no one dared break the awkward silence. The noise of the cafeteria continued around them, but it felt muted, like they were in a bubble where only tension existed.
Amy laughed again, sarcastically this time. It wasn’t funny, of course it wasn't. “Right. Of course, you think that.”
Keonho’s patience started slipping. “You’re taking this out of context, it isn't that deep.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“That’s funny.”
“How?”
“Because this is exactly what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
Amy shook her head slowly, exasperated. “You act like you care about things when they’re all fun and giggles. But the second something actually matters, you suddenly don’t get it, and you’re the dumbest guy on Earth.”
Keonho sat up straighter, defensive now. “I do care.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because half the time it feels like you’re just there.”
The comment hung between them like smoke, curling into the air, impossible to ignore. Keonho’s expression softened, caught off guard, almost pained. “I’ve been trying this entire time.” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Trying what?” Amy demanded, sharper than before.
“Trying to understand what you want from me.” he admitted.
Amy rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have to figure it out.”
“Then explain it.”
“I shouldn’t have to explain basic things.”
Keonho rubbed his face with his hands, exasperated, frustrated in a way that made his shoulders tense. “Then what do you want me to do?”
Amy stared at him for a long moment. Her expression softened slightly, but the anger and hurt were still there. Then she said quietly, almost to herself, “I don’t know.”
The answer hit harder than either expected. Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating. For a few seconds, nobody spoke. Not Seonghyeon, not Iroha, not the people a few tables away who were now pretending not to notice. Even the clatter of trays and silverware felt muted.
Amy looked away, eyes focused somewhere on the far wall. Her hands tight around the edge of her tray, fingers messing with the plastic slightly, as if she was trying to calm herself.
“I just don’t think this works.” she said finally.
Keonho frowned, confusion and disbelief flickering across his face. “What?”
“This.” She gestured vaguely between them, a small, almost defeated wave of her hand. “Us. I don’t think it works anymore.”
“You’re serious?”
Amy nodded slightly, still avoiding his gaze.
“It shouldn’t feel this difficult.” she added.
Keonho didn’t respond immediately. He wanted to argue, to insist, to explain, but the words caught in his throat. Everything he thought he understood about the situation felt suddenly irrelevant.
When he finally spoke, his voice came out quieter, flatter than before, carrying weight instead of volume. “Okay.”
That one word carried all the finality of a slammed door. No yelling. No dramatic gestures. Just a quiet statement, simple and devastating.
And somehow, the fact that the breakup happened in front of the whole group made it feel even heavier. Everyone else tried to carry on, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, but the tension had already settled like a storm cloud over the table.
Seonghyeon shoved a fry into his mouth, pretending to chew loudly. Iroha propped her chin on her hand, trying to look disinterested but not really managing it. You didn’t say anything, just stared at Keonho, who sat frozen for a second, shoulders slumped, staring at the tray in front of him as if it were the only thing that made sense.
Amy pushed her tray slightly away, a subtle gesture that marked distance, one that hadn’t existed before today. For a moment, the cafeteria noises returned, but only around them. They were still trapped in that quiet bubble, the moment stretching longer than it should have.
Keonho finally lifted his head, eyes meeting hers briefly. There was a flicker of regret, of wanting to fix it, but nothing that could undo what had been said. Amy’s expression didn’t soften; she wasn’t interested in apologies right now. She was only interested in being honest, even if it hurt.
You could see the weight of the breakup settle into everyone, like an invisible tension in the air. Nobody dared to break the silence, not even Seonghyeon, who usually had a comment ready for anything. Everyone knew the moment was bigger than words, bigger than the casual the chaos of the cafeteria.
Keonho swallowed slowly, jaw tightening. “Okay.” he repeated, quieter this time, almost to himself.
Amy looked away again, a faint exhale escaping her lips. She didn’t say anything further. She got up and walked away, followed by Minju and Wonhee
And that was it.
No yelling. No dramatic storming out. Just the quiet, crushing reality of two people realising that, despite trying, some things didn’t fit together the way they thought they did.
The noise of the cafeteria continued around Hyeon, Iroha and yn, louder now because they had stopped noticing it. Everything had moved forward, everyone eating and talking like it was all normal— for them which it was. But for Iroha, Seonghyeon and yn? that lunch was anything but normal.
Keonho stared at his tray for longer than before, Amy’s words echoing in his mind, and slowly, the enormity of the moment sank in.
The school bell saved us. It rang so loud it covered the tension felt on the table as everyone got up and headed to class.
“You coming?” You said to Keonho trying to break the tension
Seonghyeon and Iroha shuffled off first, clearly trying to leave before the tension got unbearable. You lingered for a moment, glancing at Keonho, who was still sitting, staring at the tray as if it held all the answers. You almost turned to leave, wanting to give him space—but his voice stopped you.
“YN, can you wait for me?”
You froze for a second, caught off guard, then nodded. “Yeah….sure.”
You leaned against the edge of the doorway, listening to the chatter of the cafeteria around you, but your attention was fixed entirely on him. That’s when you saw Amy. She was standing a few tables away with Minju and Wonhee, watching. Her gaze locked on you for a second, sharp, full of disapproval. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, her lips tight. It wasn’t obvious to anyone else, but you saw it—the subtle warning she was sending. Amy’s eyes were saying, don’t make this about you. Don’t make this Amy's fault for him.
You took a slow breath. Your heart twisted a little. You knew Amy was right—you shouldn’t console him, not over something he’d clearly messed up. She had every reason to be angry. And yet… your chest ached at the thought of him sitting there, quiet and depressed.
Part of it was always there, you always felt Amy’s awkwardness around you ever since Keonho and her started dating. The closeness you and Keonho had developed over the years. Amy knew it too. Maybe that’s why, ever since they’d started dating, she subtly nudged him to sit closer to her during lunch, leaving you on the opposite side. She never said it outright, but the message was clear. It wasn’t about anyone else; it was about the quiet little territory you two had claimed over the years—territory she couldn’t entirely take away.
But right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him, the way he looked so vulnerable, like every bit of confidence he had, had been stripped away.
When he finally stood, shoulders tight, gaze briefly looking towards Amy retreating back, he walked over to you. “Do you want to skip this next class?” he asked quietly.
You hesitated. Skipping class wasn’t a big deal, but..with him? “I don’t know. Why?”
“Twin please, I really need to talk,” he said, his voice low, almost impatient. “I really need rational advice and who else would I go to if not you?”
You let out a soft exhale and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
You fell into step beside him, leaving the cafeteria behind. The hallways felt emptier now, echoing with the distant chatter of other students already settled in their classes, but the air between you two was heavy, weighted with what had just happened. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, letting the silence stretch as he led you toward the abandoned classroom you sometimes used when you needed to get work done—or, in this case, when you needed to think without the noise of everyone else around.
The classroom was quiet, dust particles flying around evidently when the sunlight through the windows hit them. Tables were pushed together, one of them against the window, and Keonho climbed onto it, sitting cross legged, indicating you to join him. You perched on the edge opposite him, careful not to get too close, but not wanting to be distant either.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “It’s, fuck, I don’t know, dude. Amy, she’s so on and off. Sometimes it’s like she doesn’t care at all. And then other times, she’s sweet, but it never really…. it never really clicks. She didn’t like— I don’t think she really ever cared about how I felt, not in the ways I needed.”
You nodded, listening. You could see the tightness in his jaw, the way he kept looking down at his hands, being careful about every word that left his mouth.
“Yeah.” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “I noticed that…a lot. Especially at the table. She never really listened when you were talking about things you liked. I don’t mean that she was wrong for being upset now, because obviously this whole thing was messy. But, like, she wasn’t really fully present with you either.”
Keonho let out a short laugh, more bitter than amused. “I guess I was almost hoping she’d notice that, you know? That I cared about the little things that I really tried. It’s like I mentally broke up with her before she even did. Physically, it just felt wrong. I couldn’t do it right.”
You stayed quiet, letting him vent. You could feel the weight of his words settling in the room, thick and heavy, but there was also a vulnerability in them that wasn’t there before. The Keonho who always seemed so composed, so guarded, was unraveling, and for some reason, you felt a mix of concern and helplessness at being the one witnessing it.
“I don’t even know if I was in the wrong completely,” he admitted after a pause, voice almost a whisper. “But… It feels like I failed at something I didn’t even know how to do. And now it’s gone.”
Your chest tightened. You wanted to say something, to reach across the table and reassure him— pat his back or something, but you thought about Amy, why would you reassure someone he was right when he was wrong. So, instead, you nodded. “I get it. I really do.”
He looked at you then, eyes wide, searching. “You really get it?”
“Yeah,” you said. “I noticed the way things never aligned sometimes. The way she didn’t always pay attention. But…” you paused, carefully. “That doesn’t mean she was wrong to be upset. And it doesn’t mean you were right to call other girls pretty. You can’t do that, Keonho. Not when she trusted you. You are— I mean were her boyfriend you know.”
He ran a hand across his face, shoulders slumping further. “I know….I know I screwed that up. I couldn’t stop myself from hoping she’d get to know me. I wanted her to see me, not just what she assumed I was. And now…” His voice cracked slightly. “Now it’s just…. empty. I feel like I’m carrying this space around that I don’t know how to fill.”
You stayed quiet, letting the words linger. You didn’t offer false comfort. “I get it,” you repeated. “You wanted things to work. You tried and it didn’t. That’s all that can be said right now.”
He nodded, staring out the window at the football turf below. “It’s stupid, I feel stupid. Like I misread everything, like I made it all worse.”
“No,” you said gently. “You didn’t make it worse. It just wasn’t meant to work out. Sometimes it’s not about right or wrong. Sometimes it’s about timing, and how people are. That’s all really.”
He let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the table, shoulders finally relaxing slightly. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without someone to talk to about this. Seonghyeon would make fun of me and shit, and Iroha…well. You know how she is”
You gave a small, encouraging smile. “That’s what I’m here for. Just remember, it’s okay to feel like shit right now, but it’s also okay to move forward. And you will eventually.”
Keonho exhaled, a bit of the tension bleeding out, but the sadness remained, “Yeah…yeah, eventually.”
The classroom was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the air vent and the distant murmur of students in other parts of the building. For the first time in a while, Keonho seemed like he could breathe a little. Not completely, but enough to stop feeling trapped by the weight of the breakup.
You stayed there with him for a while, letting him talk, letting the silence speak where words couldn’t. The conversation wasn’t about fixing everything—it couldn’t be—but it was about debriefing it, and somehow trying to figure it out together.
At some point, you realized that even though Amy’s anger and disapproval were still out there, but, it didn’t touch this room. Here, it was just Keonho and you. Vulnerable, messy, and real. And somehow, that made all the difference.
The next day felt strange before it even began. When you, Iroha, and Seonghyeon reached the cafeteria table, there was already awkwardness sitting in the air, like everyone knew something needed to be addressed before things could go back to normal.
Amy arrived a few minutes later with Minju and Wonhee. Keonho came shortly after with his usual slow, sleepy stride, dropping into his seat like nothing had happened the day before. But the moment he sat down, the table fell into that same uncomfortable quiet again.
Amy cleared her throat.
“Okay,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Before this gets weird again, Keonho and I talked.”
Everyone looked up.
“We’re not getting back together or anything,” she continued quickly. “But we figured it out. We’re good. Like, actually good. Just friends.”
Keonho nodded, not looking particularly emotional about it. “Yeah. No hard feelings.”
It wasn’t dramatic. No long speeches, no explanations. Just a quiet agreement that the relationship was over, but the friendship—or at least the group dynamic didn’t have to be destroyed because of it.
And somehow, that was enough.
The tension that had been sitting at the table the day before slowly dissolved. Conversation restarted slowly at first, then it all went back to normal. Seonghyeon cracked a dumb joke about failing math, Iroha complained about a teacher, and Wonhee started talking about some random drama happening in another class.
Within fifteen minutes, the group felt almost normal again.
Almost.
Because even though Amy and Keonho had agreed things were fine, they still didn’t interact much after that. Not directly. They didn’t argue, they didn’t glare at each other, but they also didn’t really talk unless they had to. They sat at the same table, laughed at the same jokes, but there was always a small, invisible gap between them.
And everyone just accepted it.
That was how the rest of year eleven went after the whole break up.
Quietly.
Keonho, despite acting like he was over it, was honestly a little wrecked after the breakup. Not in an obvious way—he didn’t sulk around or complain, but it showed in other ways. The biggest one being how quickly he started looking for distractions.
Rebounds.
The first one happened a few months later. Some girl from another class who thought Keonho was funny and athletic. They talked for a while, went out a couple of times, and then it broke up almost immediately like 2 weeks in.
The second one lasted slightly longer— about a month.
Both ended the same way: awkwardly, quietly, like something that was never meant to last, more of a fling than something real.
You could tell he wasn’t really in it for the girls themselves. It was more like he was trying to fill the space Amy had left behind, hoping that if he moved on fast enough, the lingering sadness would disappear.
It didn’t.
Amy, on the other hand, handled things… differently.
She moved around too. Not in a serious relationship sense, but casually—talking to different guys, flirting here and there, going out a few times. Some people in school whispered about it, but honestly no one in your group cared.
That was their business.
Whatever happened between Amy and Keonho had ended. What they did afterward was their own choice.
So no one made a big deal out of it. And that’s how year eleven ended.
Messy in the beginning, calm toward the end, with everyone quietly learning how to exist around each other again.
There were no big fights between the girls either. You, Amy, Minju, Wonhee, and Iroha still did everything together—sleepovers, lunch, gossip sessions, complaining about teachers.
The only thing you occasionally noticed was Amy dropping small backhanded— almost passive aggressive comments your way.
Nothing huge.
Just tiny things you notice when you look too hard.
Little jokes about how ‘some people’ always sided with Keonho. Or how you two seemed ‘a little too close’’ whenever he needed advice.
You never really reacted. Iroha seemed to be taken aback by those, she tried to defend you but you always stopped her. You should’ve said something, you should've cared.
But, frankly, you didn’t care enough to.
You knew where you stood. And if Amy wanted to throw subtle comments every now and then, that was her problem, not yours. Her insecurities, her problem.
Eventually, even that faded.
Year twelve began, and everything felt different—not tense, just… calmer. Everyone had grown up a little. Classes were harder, university applications were around the corner, and people had less energy to care about petty things.
Amy and Keonho slowly started talking again.
Not like before.
But casually.
Small conversations. Passing jokes. Group discussions. Just enough to show they were trying to be normal with each other again.
And it worked.
By the middle of the year, you could sit at lunch and watch them talk like two people who had simply dated a long time ago. No tension. No awkwardness. Just familiarity and mutual acceptance.
That’s when the senior school trip happened.
Everyone went, of course.
Your entire friend group ended up glued together for most of it.
The girls—Amy, Minju, Wonhee, Iroha, and you—shared one hotel room, which basically meant chaos twenty-four seven. Clothes everywhere, makeup scattered across desks, someone always stealing someone else’s charger and the smell of multiple fragrances always in the air— one corner smelt fruity, the other of vanilla.
The boys had their own room too.
Keonho and Seonghyeon shared it with Martin, Juhoon, and James—guys you weren’t super close with, but you knew them well enough. They were nice, easygoing, the type that blended into the group naturally.
The trip itself was surprisingly smooth.
No drama.
Just long days of school activities, sightseeing, stupid group photos, and late night room conversations where everyone was too tired to be dramatic about anything.
By the time the second last day arrived, everyone was relaxed.
That night, after dinner, a bunch of you gathered near the hotel pool. The place was quiet, lit only by soft outdoor lights reflecting across the surface of the pool water. The moon hung above the pool, its reflection shimmering across the surface and the slight breeze causing slight waves.
You, your friends, James, Juhoon, and Martin sat around a small table playing cards.
The conversation slowly drifted from the game to gossip.
“Did you see Tara with Oliver earlier?” James said, grinning.
Juhoon snorted. “Yeah. She’s trying to do something but it clearly isn’t working.”
Everyone laughed.
Minju started talking about another couple from school. Wonhee complained about how someone had been flirting with her all day. Seonghyeon made dramatic commentary like he was narrating a reality show.
It was light. Easy.
One of those nights where everything just felt right.
Eventually though, exhaustion caught up with everyone.
It was already 10:30 p.m.
After a full day of school planned activities that started at 7a.m, most people were barely functioning anymore.
One by one, everyone started heading back to the rooms.
“Goodnight losers.” Seonghyeon said dramatically as he stood up.
“Please never say that again.” Iroha replied.
Within a few minutes, the group had disappeared toward the elevators.
Except you and Keonho.
Neither of you moved.
You both drifted toward the edge of the pool instead, sitting side by side with your feet dipped into the cold water.
The cold water made you shiver immediately as Keonho laughed, he didn't mind the freezing cold water— he was used to it.
“Why is it freezing?” you muttered.
“Character development.” Keonho said seriously.
You rolled your eyes.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The pool lights flickered softly beneath the water, and the quiet hum of the hotel filled the background.
Then Keonho spoke.
“Twin, are you and Amy good?”
You glanced at him. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be? You literally saw us basically cuddling on the pool chairs five minutes ago.”
He laughed. “I know, I know. But I’ve been noticing something.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to sound weird,” he said slowly, “but sometimes she looks at you weird when you talk to me. Almost jealous.”
You frowned slightly. “Dude you sound hella weird.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I mean I’ve noticed the tension too sometimes.” you admitted. “But I hope she knows I wouldn’t do anything.”
There was a small pause.
Then Keonho suddenly said, “You know, yn I like you.”
You froze.
Your brain stopped working for a solid second.
“What??” You said, your voice louder than it should have ben
“NO, NO!” he said immediately, waving his hands. “Not like that. I mean you’re a great friend. I enjoy your company a lot.”
“Oh.” You looked away quickly, trying to ignore the sudden weirdness in your chest.
“Sorry.” he laughed awkwardly. “That came out wrong.”
“Very fucking wrong you scared me dude.”
But the conversation recovered quickly.
You started talking about random things—teachers you hated, the stupid drama from earlier, how weird it felt that school was almost over.
Soon you were both laughing again, the earlier awkward moment fading.
That’s when Amy’s voice cut across the quiet.
“ynnie. Come here.”
You turned.
She was standing a little distance away near the poolside entrance.
“Oh,” you said, standing up. “Keon, I think I’ll go.”
“Okay,” he replied. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams.” he added with that warm and big smile on his face.
You walked over to Amy. The moment you reached her, she grabbed your arm.
“I need to talk to you.” Her tone was tense.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
She hesitated, clearly nervous. “Are you and Keonho like, a thing?”
You blinked. “NO,” you said immediately. “What the fuck???? No, never.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Amy, we’re just friends. We’ve always been close like that.”
She looked visibly panicked for a second before letting out a long breath.
“I know,” she muttered. “I know. Fuck it’s so stupid of me to even think that.”
You tilted your head slightly.
“Amy,” you said gently. “I would never go for one of your exes. I hope you know that.”
She nodded quickly.
“I know. I know,” she said again, running a hand through her hair. “I’m over him. I swear I am. But something about seeing you two there just felt so wrong for a second.”
She looked genuinely embarrassed now.
“I’m sorry.” she said quietly.
You gave a small smile.
“It’s okay.”
And just like that, the tension disappeared.
The two of you headed back to the room together, slipping quietly into bed whilst talking. The others were already half asleep.
Within minutes, the room filled with the soft sounds of breathing.
The last night of the trip was approaching.
And none of you knew yet how much everything was about to change, what the last few days of this school would bring to the table.
The trip ended faster than anyone wanted it to.
One minute everyone was laughing by the pool and fighting over who got the last snacks from the vending machine, and the next you were all back home staring at the calendar because finals had started.
Year 12 finals. The last ones.
Everyone went into that weird panic mode where the group chat suddenly turned into:
‘does anyone have the chem notes’
‘who tf understood question 4 from the mock’“
if i fail math i’m actually dropping out and becoming a stripper’
But for you, math wasn’t the scary one. Math was your thing.
Everyone in the group knew it too. Especially Keonho.
Which is why, the second the 4 day study break before the math final started, he showed up at your house.
You opened the door and he was standing there with his backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Hey.” He said with that familiar bright smile.
You blinked. “Why are you here.”
“Math tutoring.”
“You didn’t even ask.”
“You would’ve said yes anyway.”
“A little text would be nice but ok.”
He grinned and walked inside like he owned the place.
The first day it was just you two sitting at your desk with papers spread everywhere while he complained every five minutes.
“Why the fuck does this formula even exist?”
“Why not?.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
But by the second day, Iroha and Seonghyeon showed up too.
“Study group.” Iroha announced, dropping her bag dramatically.
Seonghyeon immediately flopped onto the floor.
“I’m not studying shit. I’m here for emotional support and yns moms food.”
“If you don't study I won’t give you food .”
“NO PLEASE.” He said dramatically, making everyone laugh a little.
It became routine after that.
Four days of chaos.
Whiteboard markers everywhere, snacks disappearing, Seonghyeon loudly announcing wrong answers, and Keonho constantly leaning over your shoulder asking questions.
“Wait, why does the 3 cancel here?”
“Because math.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
But somewhere in between all that, you and Keonho got closer.
Closer than before.
You noticed it in small ways.
The way he always ended up sitting next to you even when there were other chairs.
The way he’d bump your shoulder whenever he got a question right.
The way he’d say “yn explain this like I’m five” at least ten times a day as if you were an AI bot.
By the time the exam day came, everyone was exhausted. But the math final?
Easy.
You walked out feeling like you had just carried the entire subject on your back.
Keonho came out right after you.
“How’d you do?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m fucked twin”
“You’re not fucked ‘twin’.”
“I left one question blank.”
“That’s like four marks.”
“I’m still fucked.”
“You’re dramatic and you just called me a bad tutor.”
“TWIN COME ON YOU KNOW I DIDN'T SAY THAT.”
“Skill issue dude?” You teased him as he just rolled his eyes at you
But finals were over.
And suddenly the entire group had too much freedom.
Which led to someone suggesting something completely unnecessary.
“Let’s go to Lotte World.” Said Iroha.
“Why?” Minju asked.
“Why the fuck not?” Seonghyeon replied.
And that was that.
A few days later, the whole group was standing at Lotte World, screaming like idiots.
The place was packed. Music everywhere. Lights flashing. Kids running around with cotton candy and some even sitting down clearly catching their breath and recovering from rollercoaster trauma.
And for some reason, Keonho was glued to your side the entire day.
First ride. The rollercoaster.
You sat next to him.
The second the ride dropped, he grabbed your hand so tight your fingers almost cracked.
“FUCK” He screamed. He screamed this the whole ride.
“STOP GRABBING ME”
“SHUT UPP”
You both screamed the entire ride.
When it ended, you looked down and realized he was still holding your hand.
“Uh,” you said.
“Oh.” He let go immediately.
You felt something weird, something was wrong. His actions held intentions you couldn't quite point out yet.
But then came the next ride.
And the next.
And every time the ride dropped, he grabbed your hand again like his life depended on it.
By the fourth rollercoaster, Iroha was already laughing.
“Bro just marry her at this point.”
“SHUT UP IT’S SCARY OKAY?” Keonho yelled.
Then during one drop he shouted:
“TWIN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I SWEAR”
You froze. His intentions seemed more clear to you. You weren’t fucking stupid, you noticed it all.
The ride ended.
You slowly turned to look at him.
“What?”
Everyone had heard it.
Seonghyeon was already dying laughing.
Keonho blinked at you. Then waved his hand in front of Hyeon's red face.
“Chill. She’s a good friend. She’s my twin.”
You stared at him. “That was weird.”
“It was because of the rollercoaster and I’ve always called you twin, come on girl.”
“That’s not an excuse for whatever confession you dropped.” You made your words clear.
But still. Something about it felt odd.
To everyone and even to you.
After that day, the group basically refused to stay home.
For an entire month you were all constantly out.
Late night food runs, random movie nights and walking around the city with absolutely no plan.
It was chaotic and stupid and fun. Until slowly things changed again. College decisions started rolling in. Some people were still stressing.
Applications.
Interviews.
Paperwork.
But you and Keonho?
You were already done. Early acceptance. Your parents were proud.
His was basically guaranteed due to his athletic record. Which suddenly left both of you with way too much free time. And somehow that free time you had, you both would always end up together.
Roblox nights started randomly.
“Why are we playing this?” you said.
“I don’t know but it’s fun.”
“It's so stupid, it's just random anomalies dancing dude.”
“It's fun yn, deal with it..”
“Sure whatever you big bitch.”
Some nights you played until 4 AM. Headsets on. Laughing like idiots. Other nights you just… talked. About things you hadn’t told anyone. Family stuff, future fears, random childhood stories and things that felt too personal for anyone else.
Then the late night walks started.
“Twin, let’s go out.” he texted once at 2 a.m.
“Are you fucking insane??”
“Come outside.”
And somehow you did. You’d walk around empty streets, talking about absolutely nothing. Sometimes you ended up at the 24-hour convenience store near your neighborhood. The cashier was an old woman who had worked there for years. She had basically seen you since high school started and now she's seeing you again after it was over.
Every time you came in she smiled.
“Oh! You two again.”
Keonho would grab drinks while you grabbed snacks.
Then she’d ring everything up and say something like:
“You’re such a cute couple.”
The first time it happened you choked.
“We’re not–”
But Keonho just paid and shrugged.
“Thank you.”
“HEY??”
He walked out laughing while you followed him.
“You didn’t correct her!”
“It’s funny.”
“She thinks we’re dating!”
“So?”
“So it’s weird!”
He just grinned. “Relax.”
And somehow… those nights became normal too.
2 a.m walks.
Roblox until sunrise.
Inside jokes.
The old cashier still called you a couple every time.
And neither of you corrected her anymore.
Somewhere along the way, without anyone noticing, you and Keonho had become closer than you had ever been before.
Closer than during school.
Closer than during the study sessions.
Closer than even the group realized.
And neither of you were really questioning it yet.
Because for now, it just felt easy.
Two weeks before college started, everyone finally managed to meet up.
It had taken almost a week of texting in the group chat to figure out a time that worked for everyone. People had packing to do, relatives visiting, documents to submit, stupid orientation emails to read. Normally when you all met after a gap like this, the conversation would explode immediately.
But this time, you were the one sitting there with something stuck in your throat.
You had known for weeks.
You were leaving.
Not just leaving for college.
Leaving the country.
Moving continents.
And no one at the table knew.
You hated announcements like this. You hated the pity faces people made, the fake sympathy, the ‘we’ll stay in touch!!’ that everyone knew wouldn’t really happen the same way.
So you didn’t say anything at first.
You all sat at the same café you’d been going to since year ten. The same dark wooden table, the same overpriced milkshakes, the same stupid playlist playing overhead.
Seonghyeon was halfway through telling a story about how he nearly crashed his dad’s car.
“And then the cop stopped me? I wasn't even speeding. ”
“It’s because you drive like shit.” Iroha interrupted.
“I DO NOT.”
“You absolutely do.”
Everyone laughed.
You stared down at your drink.
Now.
Just say it.
You cleared your throat.
“Guys.”
Nobody noticed at first.
You said it again, a little louder.
“Guys.”
This time they looked up.
“What?” Minju asked.
You took a breath.
“I have news.”
The table went quiet immediately.
“What kind of news?” Wonhee said.
You looked around at all of them. The same people you had spent almost every day with for 4 years.
And then you said it.
“I’m moving.”
For a second no one reacted.
Then Seonghyeon blinked.
“What do you mean moving?”
“Like, moving.” you said. “My family’s moving. I’m leaving in two weeks.”
Silence hit the table like someone had dropped something heavy.
Minju’s mouth literally fell open.
“Wait, wait what?” she said.
Iroha frowned. “What do you mean two weeks?”
“I mean, two weeks,” you repeated quietly.
“Where?” Amy asked.
You hesitated.
“Abroad.”
That’s when it really landed.
“Wait, you're leaving the country?” Wonhee said.
You nodded.
The table exploded with reactions at once.
“WHAT?”
“Since when?”
“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
“Are you serious right now?”
Seonghyeon leaned forward across the table.
“Dude?? what the fuck??”
You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly.
“I didn’t know how to say it.”
Iroha looked like she’d been slapped. “You’ve known for weeks haven’t you.”
“Yeah, months actually.”
Her eyes started watering immediately. “You asshole,” she muttered.
“Iro—”
“You’ve been hanging out with us every day and you just didn’t tell us??”
“I didn’t want the whole pity thing.” you said quickly. “You know I hate that.”
“It’s not that,” you said. “I just didn’t want things to get weird.”
“They’re weird now.” Wonhee said softly.
Across the table, Keonho hadn’t said a single word.
He was just staring at you.
Frozen.
Completely still.
His jaw was tight, eyes locked on you like he was trying to process something his brain refused to accept.
Iroha wiped her eyes angrily.
“We literally grew up together.” she said, voice cracking. “You could’ve at least told me.”
“I know.” you said quietly.
“I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me.”
“I don’t,” she admitted miserably with tears staining her cheeks.
The rest of the conversation that night was messy.
Everyone asked questions.
Where you were going. When the flight was. Whether you’d visit.
You answered everything calmly. But the mood never fully recovered. And Keonho still hadn’t said anything. He barely spoke the entire night. A few days later, the four of you met up again.
Just you, Keonho, Seonghyeon, and Iroha.
The others couldn’t make it. You ended up at a small park near your neighborhood—the one with the old swings and the rusting slide that little kids used during the day. At night it was empty. You all sat around the climbing frame like teenagers who refused to grow up. Seonghyeon kicked pebbles around while complaining about his university dorm.
“I swear if my roommate snores I’m committing a crime.”
“You’re being fucking dramatic.” Iroha said.
“You don’t understand suffering.”
The conversation moved slowly.
Not awkward.
Just, heavy.
Eventually Seonghyeon checked his phone.
“Shit, my mom’s calling.”
“I should go too.” Iroha said, standing up.
She looked at you for a second before pulling you into a tight hug.
“I’m still mad at you.” she muttered.
“I know.”
“But text me every day.”
“I will.”
Seonghyeon gave you a big tight hug too.
“Don’t become one of those people who disappears.”
“I won’t.”
And with that they left. Which meant it was just you and Keonho. You sat next to each other on the bench. The park was quiet except for the faint buzz of streetlights. After a long silence, he spoke.
“Twin.”
“Yeah?”
“I need to talk to you.”
You glanced at him.
“Okay.”
He inhaled slowly. “I like you.”
You blinked.
“I really like you,” he said again. “I can’t hold it back anymore.” The words hung in the air like something explosive. “If I knew you were moving,” he continued, voice tight, “I would’ve said this before.”
Your brain struggled to catch up.
“And I know you won’t do anything because of Amy,” he added quickly, “but just give me a chance. She won’t matter anymore.”
Your head snapped toward him.
“Keonho, what?”
“Come on,” he said. “I’ve given you so many hints.”
“Hints?”
“No one just says ‘I love you’ like that.” He tried to justify.
Your stomach dropped.
“I told you that was weird.” you said slowly. “And you said it was because I’m a good friend?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you said it like that.” you snapped, louder than you intended.
He went silent. Then suddenly the tension exploded. “Why didn’t you tell us you were moving?” he demanded.
“I didn’t want to.”
“So we don’t matter to you?”
“I didn’t fucking say that!”
“Yes you did. You implied that.”
“No I didn’t.”
He ran a hand through his hair angrily. “Because if I knew earlier I would’ve done everything differently.” He gestured between you. “This. This could’ve happened.”
You stared at him. “You’re really that confident I like you?”
“I’m confident I could’ve made you feel something,” he said. “If Amy wasn’t in the picture.”
Your jaw clenched. “Okay Keonho,” you said sharply. “But guess what? She is. And she’s a good friend to me.”
His expression turned annoyed instantly. “A good friend?” he scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“She’s always been dramatic about our friendship,” he snapped. “She throws passive aggressive comments at you and you call her a good friend?”
“Since when were your views so fucked up?” he continued. “Where’s your self respect?”
You stood up immediately. “You have no business talking about me and Amy.”
“We are good,” you said. “We literally talked about this during the trip. Why the fuck do you think you have the right to comment on it?”
“Because you don’t get it!” he shouted.
“Get what??”
“IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU.” Keonho yelled, breathing heavily right after that sudden confession.
Your heart stopped.
“That girl I called hot?” he continued, voice shaking with frustration. “The one everyone thought Amy was mad about?”
He pointed at you.
“It was you. Seonghyeon was talking about you.”
Your brain short-circuited.
“You’re too dense for someone with good grades.” he said bitterly.
“Keonho I would have never known?” you yelled. “I can’t read your fucking mind?”
You were both breathing hard now. The park suddenly felt too small.
“I’m leaving,” you muttered. “I don’t have the energy for this.”
You turned.
He grabbed your wrist.
“Wait.”
You yanked your arm back.
“What do you need to know?” you snapped. “Haven’t you fucked around enough?”
His face tightened.
“Two rebounds after Amy because your desperate ass couldn’t move on,” you continued. “And you’re commenting on my self-respect?”
“Stop.” he said quietly. “Chill, I need to know something.”
You glared at him. “What.”
“Did you ever like me?”
Your anger faltered for half a second.
“Even a little,” he said. “If Amy and I never happened.”
You paused.
He looked desperate now.
“I can’t live like this,” he said quietly. “ I can't live in doubt.”
Your chest tightened.
“Maybe I did,” you admitted.
His eyes widened.
“But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“yn–”
“No.” You cut him off.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You and me?” you said flatly. “From today onwards we’re strangers.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No I’m not,” you shot back. “You just completely bashed me. Then confessed. Then questioned my friendship with Amy.”
“Is this about girl code?”
“Not entirely.”
You stepped closer.
“Don’t you see how fucked up it is for me to even consider liking someone like you?”
He looked stunned.
“You basically toyed with me,” you said. “You knew exactly how Amy would react when she saw us together.”
“You think I’m fucking stupid?” You questioned him.
His expression changed, his eyebrows now furrowed. He couldn't respond.
“No I’m not,” you said. “I notice things.”
“I notice how you lean in too close when she’s around.”
“I noticed how you grabbed my hand at Lotte World and held it too long because you knew everyone—including Amy, was watching.”
Your voice cracked.
“Fuck you.”
You turned and walked away.
“yn!” he shouted.
“yn come back!”
You didn’t
The day you left, everyone came to the airport. Even though you told them not to.
Iroha cried immediately. Seonghyeon hugged you twice. Minju and Wonhee kept telling you to text them.
And then Keonho walked up.
Arms open.
Waiting for a hug.
You stepped back.
He froze.
You turned toward the entrance.
His hand grabbed your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“My intention was never that.” He swallowed.
“I didn’t realize how wrong everything played out.”
You turned and looked at him. Expressionless.
For a second he looked like he might say something else. But you didn’t respond. Because you knew if you did, it would break something all over again.
So you walked away. And that was the last time things were ever the same.
You and him, you both drifted apart after one conversation like the white clouds under the stars.
Synopsis: When you signed up for a paid product testing program, you expected free samples and money. What you didn’t expect was to be paired with Hwang Hyunjin and assigned to test a series of increasingly questionable sexual wellness products together.
Preview under cut!
...
You sit beside Hyunjin in the row of chairs arranged in neat lines across the hall, your ID badge hanging stiffly around your neck like a badge of shame. Around you, a dozen or so couples settle into their seats, some leaning comfortably into each other, some whispering and laughing like they’re on some bizarre date night.
You, on the other hand, sit ramrod straight with arms crossed. You back rigid against the chair. As if posture alone can save you from the humiliating reality of the situation.
At the front of the hall, a man in a white coat adjusts the microphone and opens the seminar. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for participating in our thirty-day couple product testing program.”
Thirty days. Thirty days of this. Oh, god…
The man gestures to the large screen behind him where images of the products appear one by one.
“Our goal is to gather honest feedback about usability, comfort, and partner experience. Each of you will receive a full testing kit at the end of this seminar.”
A ripple of excitement moves through the room. You, however, feel your stomach sink lower with every slide that appears.
The speaker continues explaining the first product—what it is, what it does, how it’s supposed to be used. “… And don’t worry, there will also be detailed instruction sheets included in the package.”
From somewhere in the back, a male participant calls out jokingly. “Don’t worry, I think we’ll figure it out!”
Laughter erupts across the hall.
God. This is a nightmare. You wince so hard your eyes nearly close.
Strangely, the person sitting beside you doesn’t join the laughter. You glance sideways and finds Hyunjin sitting relaxed in his chair, long legs stretched slightly forward, a few strands of hair escaped the messy bun on the back of his head. He looks calm, almost focused.
When the next slide appears, the presenter gestures toward it. “And this model is designed specifically for couples—”
The screen displays a sleek product image and below it, the name of the product typed in bold: Hands-free couple vibrator.
You feel heat creep up your neck immediately but before you can look away, Hyunjin leans closer. His shoulder brushes yours, warm through the thin fabric of your sleeve. “That looks fun,” he teasingly murmurs.
Your entire body shivers from sheer, mortifying disbelief that you and Hyunjin will be testing that product together. You stare straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him.
The seminar continues, each explanation somehow making the situation worse in your mind. Eventually, the presentation shifts and different speaker steps forward.
“Now let’s discuss the structure of the program itself.”
Finally. Something practical. Something that you can pay attention to without feeling queasy.
“You will receive your testing kits today after the seminar. You may test the products in any order and at any time during the thirty-day program period.”
Thirty days. The number echoes again in your skull.
“For each product, both participants must submit evaluation forms describing your experience, including comfort level, ease of use, and partner response.”
That part, at least, you understand.
“As long as all evaluations are completed within the thirty-day period, participants will receive the full compensation package at the end of the program.”
The room erupts in whistles and clapping. Someone actually cheers.
You stare at the floor, wondering how the atmosphere became so festive.
And just when it seems like the excitement has peaked, the speaker raises a hand. “Oh, and we’ve prepared one more special thing.”
The room quiets instantly, anticipating.
“We will also be selecting one couple who provides the most genuine and insightful product feedback.”
The screen behind him changes again to an image of a tropical beach, palm trees and vast blue ocean.
“Those participants will receive a complimentary couples vacation package.”
The hall explodes. The whistles and clapping are louder now. A few couples lean into each other laughing, already excited.
Beside you, Hyunjin turns his head. His elbow nudges yours. “Did you hear that?”
You glance at him with pure exhaustion. “Yes. We’re hearing the same thing.”
He grins like a man who just won the lottery. “We’ll get a free vacation.”
You stare at him. “It goes to one couple.”
“And?”
“And I highly doubt that couple will be us.”
Hyunjin shrugs easily, completely unbothered. “I feel like we could win this.”
The reality of the situation settles heavier and heavier on your shoulders. You close your eyes for a moment, massaging your temple as dizziness creeps in from the sheer absurdity of it all.
Beside you, Hyunjin joins the excitement buzzes around you as if there was no complication in this situation. Which, somehow, makes it even worse.
...
COCKY: HYUNJIN will be released every Friday starting March 27th.
Synopsis: When you signed up for a paid product testing program, you expected free samples and money. What you didn’t expect was to be paired with Hwang Hyunjin and assigned to test a series of increasingly questionable sexual wellness products together.
Preview under cut!
...
You sit beside Hyunjin in the row of chairs arranged in neat lines across the hall, your ID badge hanging stiffly around your neck like a badge of shame. Around you, a dozen or so couples settle into their seats, some leaning comfortably into each other, some whispering and laughing like they’re on some bizarre date night.
You, on the other hand, sit ramrod straight with arms crossed. You back rigid against the chair. As if posture alone can save you from the humiliating reality of the situation.
At the front of the hall, a man in a white coat adjusts the microphone and opens the seminar. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for participating in our thirty-day couple product testing program.”
Thirty days. Thirty days of this. Oh, god…
The man gestures to the large screen behind him where images of the products appear one by one.
“Our goal is to gather honest feedback about usability, comfort, and partner experience. Each of you will receive a full testing kit at the end of this seminar.”
A ripple of excitement moves through the room. You, however, feel your stomach sink lower with every slide that appears.
The speaker continues explaining the first product—what it is, what it does, how it’s supposed to be used. “… And don’t worry, there will also be detailed instruction sheets included in the package.”
From somewhere in the back, a male participant calls out jokingly. “Don’t worry, I think we’ll figure it out!”
Laughter erupts across the hall.
God. This is a nightmare. You wince so hard your eyes nearly close.
Strangely, the person sitting beside you doesn’t join the laughter. You glance sideways and finds Hyunjin sitting relaxed in his chair, long legs stretched slightly forward, a few strands of hair escaped the messy bun on the back of his head. He looks calm, almost focused.
When the next slide appears, the presenter gestures toward it. “And this model is designed specifically for couples—”
The screen displays a sleek product image and below it, the name of the product typed in bold: Hands-free couple vibrator.
You feel heat creep up your neck immediately but before you can look away, Hyunjin leans closer. His shoulder brushes yours, warm through the thin fabric of your sleeve. “That looks fun,” he teasingly murmurs.
Your entire body shivers from sheer, mortifying disbelief that you and Hyunjin will be testing that product together. You stare straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him.
The seminar continues, each explanation somehow making the situation worse in your mind. Eventually, the presentation shifts and different speaker steps forward.
“Now let’s discuss the structure of the program itself.”
Finally. Something practical. Something that you can pay attention to without feeling queasy.
“You will receive your testing kits today after the seminar. You may test the products in any order and at any time during the thirty-day program period.”
Thirty days. The number echoes again in your skull.
“For each product, both participants must submit evaluation forms describing your experience, including comfort level, ease of use, and partner response.”
That part, at least, you understand.
“As long as all evaluations are completed within the thirty-day period, participants will receive the full compensation package at the end of the program.”
The room erupts in whistles and clapping. Someone actually cheers.
You stare at the floor, wondering how the atmosphere became so festive.
And just when it seems like the excitement has peaked, the speaker raises a hand. “Oh, and we’ve prepared one more special thing.”
The room quiets instantly, anticipating.
“We will also be selecting one couple who provides the most genuine and insightful product feedback.”
The screen behind him changes again to an image of a tropical beach, palm trees and vast blue ocean.
“Those participants will receive a complimentary couples vacation package.”
The hall explodes. The whistles and clapping are louder now. A few couples lean into each other laughing, already excited.
Beside you, Hyunjin turns his head. His elbow nudges yours. “Did you hear that?”
You glance at him with pure exhaustion. “Yes. We’re hearing the same thing.”
He grins like a man who just won the lottery. “We’ll get a free vacation.”
You stare at him. “It goes to one couple.”
“And?”
“And I highly doubt that couple will be us.”
Hyunjin shrugs easily, completely unbothered. “I feel like we could win this.”
The reality of the situation settles heavier and heavier on your shoulders. You close your eyes for a moment, massaging your temple as dizziness creeps in from the sheer absurdity of it all.
Beside you, Hyunjin joins the excitement buzzes around you as if there was no complication in this situation. Which, somehow, makes it even worse.
...
COCKY: HYUNJIN will be released every Friday starting March 27th.
SYNOPSIS. ever since martin’s debut, he’s been touted as a master of fanservice, but he's got something to prove: that his flirting does work on anyone. meanwhile, you desperately want to turn your internship at stereo into a full-time job. the best way to do that is by writing something so eye-catching to the point where your boss will have no choice but to keep you on: an article on dating and losing an idol. so when martin spots you at their comeback showcase, the scene is set. he’s going to make you fall in love with him in 10 shows. you're going to make him dump you in that same timeframe. you’ve got your agenda. he’s got his. game on.
or alternatively, the question: “Does Martin know how to flirt??” is answered.
GENRE. crack, fluff, angst, idol! martin, inspired by 'how to lose a guy in 10 days'
WORD COUNT. 20.2k (I'M SORRY I CAN'T HELP IT)
WARNINGS. swearing, mentions of drinking (james is drunk), questionable journalism practices for plot (as a journalist, i do NOT endorse what y/n is doing), reader is the same age as martin and is implied to be shorter
AUTHOR'S NOTE. yes this was inspired by seonghyeon's weverse reply. Does Martin know how to flirt?? enjoy this cheeky long fic as a gift to u all bcos i'm going to be working a bit so may b a bit more ia :p really loved this and i don't want to keep u guys waiting so i'm dropping it with no teaser. i hope yall like this!! <3
feedback and reblogs are much appreciated! <3
“Eom Seonghyeon, what the hell is this?”
Martin Edwards storms into his dorm room, holding his phone up. His brows are furrowed in mock anger as Seonghyeon peers at his screen from his spot on the bed.
“Wait, I can’t read it. I’m also too lazy to get up. Can you read it to me?” Seonghyeon’s buried under his blankets, head resting on his pillow as he squints at Martin’s screen.
Keonho, who’s lazily sprawled across his own bed, looks up from his phone to listen in on the conversation. Knowing him, Keonho’s probably watching some funny dog videos or going through his album of Cookie photos.
“What the hell do you mean by ‘does Martin know how to flirt?’ I have to find out that you think I have zero game from a Weverse reply?” he exclaims, exasperated. Seonghyeon and Keonho both explode into a fit of laughter, and Martin simply stands there, unamused.
Seonghyeon’s words ring heavy in Martin’s ears – look, although Martin hadn’t dated before, he does think he can flirt. He’s seen the discourse online.
Sure, was it a little corny sometimes? Yeah… a little. But most of the fans were eating it up, and Martin was more than happy to oblige if it meant that he would be making a little bit more money. Money didn’t fall from trees, and those clothes that Martin’s been eyeing for ages weren’t going to pay for themselves.
“What?” Seonghyeon asks, laughing as he hugs his pillow a little tighter. “Come on, the fanservice barely counts. I know everyone’s been saying that you’re a fanservice king, but they're all basically in love with you anyways!”
“Us,” Keonho pipes up. “They’re not only in love with Martin hyung. Also, you’re right – Martin, do you really know how to flirt?”
Martin narrows his eyes at Keonho. “I think I know what you’re insinuating, and I don’t like it.”
Seonghyeon and Keonho’s loud laughter somehow summon both James and Juhoon in the room, and Martin’s already preparing himself to become the laughing stock for the next 30 minutes. The life of a leader, he thinks. It's truly so difficult.
It also wasn’t like Martin didn’t want love. He wanted it more than anything – he just didn’t exactly have the time for it right now, like most idols. He had so much to do every single day, from dance practices, to music shows, to producing music. Martin Edwards, despite having so much love to give, simply didn’t have time to do so.
“James hyung, Juhoon hyung – do you think Martin can flirt?”
James snorts. Juhoon makes a noise that’s a mix of a strangled laugh and a cough. At their reactions, Keonho laughs so hard his pillow falls right off his bed.
Martin groans, turning his phone off and shoving it back into the pocket of his sweatpants.
“I rest my case,” Seonghyeon says, grinning triumphantly.
“I can flirt!” Martin says, defensively. He doesn’t know why he’s arguing so passionately for this – it wasn’t even that big of a deal. "Trust me, my flirting works on anyone."
He crosses his arms, letting out a deep breath as Seonghyeon lets out another laugh. He knows that the younger boy isn’t being malicious – they were just teasing each other like usual.
"Anyone is a bit brave, Martin." Juhoon jokes. Martin rolls his eyes.
“Okay, Mr. Confident. Let’s see if you can make someone – a non-fan, by the way – fall for you before promotions end here in Korea,” James says, jokingly. But Martin can see the gears turning in Keonho’s head before that shit-eating smirk spreads across his lips.
“James hyung, you’re a genius!” Keonho says, jumping up from his bed. “That’s 10 shows. Martin, if you get a girl to fall in love with you in 10 shows, we’ll officially say that you can flirt.”
Martin furrows his brows. “That’s all I get out of it?” he frowns. “Seems like a pretty bad trade-off for something so risky, considering that we’re… idols?”
“Fine. We’ll say that you can flirt, and Seonghyeon will pay for all your clothes the next time you buy something.” Keonho says, and Seonghyeon suddenly gets up from his bed. He looks at Keonho, shaking his head.
“Me? You’re the one doing the bargaining, you pay!” Seonghyeon protests, and Keonho rolls his eyes.
“Okay, new proposal. We all pay for your next shopping haul and we say that you can flirt. We’ll all chip in an equal amount so it’s fair, and so Hyeon can stop complaining,” Keonho grumbles. Seonghyeon sighs, nodding as he gives in to Keonho’s bargain.
“Works for me,” James replies, putting his hands up. “I for one, don’t think I’m gonna lose any money.”
“Oh, don’t be so confident,” Martin scoffs. Wow, his friends really had zero belief in him. It really made him all the more determined to prove them wrong. “You guys are so losing your money.”
Keonho looks at Juhoon, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Juhoon hyung… you’re the only one left,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Come on, it’s not even going to be that hard. It's easy money, let's go.”
“10 shows is still technically a lot, you know. It’s three weeks,” Juhoon hums, thinking it through. “Three weeks… well, Martin needs all the help he can get. Yeah, whatever – I’m in.”
“Juhoon!” Martin exclaims.
The boy looks at him, shrugging. “I’m sorry! I’m just too curious to see how this will pan out – we need a little bit of excitement in our lives! Performing is exciting enough, but this is like a whole new level. I’m going to be entertained for weeks.”
Juhoon drags the last word out, and Martin sighs. The air is thick with anticipation as the four of them look at Martin expectantly.
Honestly, getting all his clothes paid for by his friends wasn’t exactly a bad trade-off. He’s just going to make sure to throw in a couple more expensive things in there for some payback before he officially starts the bet. And the girl would surely understand that dating an idol was difficult, and if it ended a little earlier… that was sort of to be expected, right? In three weeks he would be going to New York City anyways. No harm, no foul?
“Fine,” Martin groans in exasperation, giving in. “Let’s see where this goes.”
Keonho pumps a fist in the air triumphantly, and Martin rolls his eyes. “Okay, and if you don’t get a girl to fall in love with you in 10 shows… you pay for our clothes. And publicly say that you’re shit at flirting and have zero game.”
“One piece of expensive clothing each. You’re four people, I’m one. If I paid for all of your clothes, I think I’d probably go broke.” Martin shoots back. Keonho shrugs, seemingly deeming it reasonable enough.
“It’s a deal,” Keonho says, holding his hand out for Martin to shake. Martin does, albeit a little reluctantly. What the hell did he just get himself into?
The room erupts into cheers so loud Martin thinks he’s suddenly transported back to MAMA.
Seonghyeon’s already immediately searching for a new pair of shoes that he wants to buy. James has rushed back into his room to grab his phone to go on Gentle Monster to see which pair of glasses will suit him. Juhoon’s already pulling up photos of this jacket that he’s been talking about for ages. Keonho makes it a big show out of telling Martin the price of this bracelet that he wants.
At their antics, there’s a fire lit up in the pit of Martin’s stomach.
He was going to win this bet. Even if it was stupid.
Your internship at Stereo is about to come to an end.
You’re distraught. Most people would love for their internships to end – no more shitty coffee from the 10-year old dispenser that someone brought in as an ‘office gift’, no more tapping away at a dim-lit cubicle, and no more measly half-assed articles to write that are assigned haphazardly. But you’re not most people.
Being a journalist at Stereo is your dream job. You get to write about the music that you love, review new albums, and you get exclusive perks and invites to music award shows every single week. You’ve been interning at Stereo for one and a half months now, and in just two weeks, you’re just going to be a high schooler in your final year.
You’ve heard stories of Jisoo, your boss, giving an offer for a full-time job to interns before. You desperately want to be one of those people.
You’ve heard her complaints behind closed doors about how Stereo’s latest content was becoming a little drab and boring, and that Stereo wasn't getting enough clicks online anymore. The most reads the publication had gotten recently was a review on Taylor Swift’s new album, but come on – it was Taylor Swift.
You needed to find a way to write the most eye-catching, niche and exclusive article that the music world had ever seen. That way, Jisoo had to give you the job.
Yoonchae, another intern who you’ve befriended, rolls her chair over so she’s sitting next to you. She taps her nails on your desk to get your attention. “So… last two weeks. How are you feeling?”
Yoonchae started around the same time as you, but unlike you, Yoonchae wanted to get the hell out. She was tired of writing the weekly ‘Songs You Need To Know’ article. “I’m a gatekeeper,” she had said. “I don’t want people discovering the artists I like!”
“Stressed,” you sigh, taking a sip out of your mug. “I’m trying to rack my brain to figure out how to write something so… fresh, I guess. Something that no other publication will be able to write.”
Yoonchae raises a brow. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with keeping this job, (Name). What we’ve been writing really isn’t that interesting, is it? I just had to review some album from a rookie group that I don’t think anyone’s heard of yet,” Her voice drops low into a whisper. “It was like nails on a chalkboard. I threw away that pair of company-provided earphones because the memories of listening to it were so traumatic.”
You look at Yoonchae like she’s insane before diverting your eyes back to your laptop screen. You’ve just finished a review on ILLIT’s new album – you skim through your article, making sure that there’s no spelling mistakes or other errors before sending it to Lily, the in-house copy editor.
“I love it though,” you say honestly. “I love music, I love writing about it – plus, Stereo’s the best place to get off the ground running if you want to work in this industry. I was at ILLIT’s comeback showcase literally last week – do you know how many people would die to have this opportunity?”
“I have to get that job offer from Jisoo.” Your voice is laced with determination, and despite Yoonchae not understanding why in the world you’d want to stay, she gives you a nod in support.
In the cubicle across, you hear a loud noise from another intern – you can’t tell if it’s a screech or a wail, or something in between. You and Yoonchae’s eyes snap towards the direction of the noise. It’s Yuna, and she looks towards you two with absolutely zero shame on her face, even if the entire office was startled by the sound.
“It’s my favourite idol! He’s dating someone! How could he?” She’s saying it like it’s the end of the world.
You’re looking at Yuna like she’s insane. You can’t tell if she’s being serious or not, and you blink at her. “Um… are you okay?”
Suddenly, her demeanour changes, and she smiles brightly at you. “Yeah! I was literally just being dramatic, I couldn’t care less,” she says, and you let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t really want to be working with someone who was so incredibly parasocial over some guy who barely knew her. “It’s just crazy how he even has the time with how busy his schedules are.”
You hear the sound of heels clacking on the marble floor, and your eyes widen. It must be Jisoo.
“Was that you?” Jisoo asks, pointing at you. “The one who screeched?”
“Oh,” you stammer. “No, Jisoo – it was Yuna.” You felt bad for throwing her under the bus, but you weren’t going to lie to Jisoo and take the fall. Jisoo's eyes divert towards Yuna, who gulps.
“What happened?” she asks. Jisoo doesn’t sound like she really cares. She does have better things to be doing than partaking in conversations with interns who she probably won’t remember the names of in two weeks.
“Oh, just some… idol… dating,” Yuna says, acting like she doesn’t care at all. It’s hard for her to pretend that she doesn’t when a photo of said idol in question is in a picture frame sitting on her desk. “Maybe we should report on it briefly, or something…”
Jisoo takes in a sharp breath, sucking her teeth. You can hear the disapproval just from the noise, as if she’s already prepared to get rid of you three. “Alright. Get back to work.”
You turn your head quickly back to your laptop, not wanting to be berated by Jisoo. The disapproving tone was already enough, and you feel embarrassed under her gaze. You click onto your calendar to see what you’ve got going on next week. You’ve got two comeback showcases to attend with Yoonchae – IVE and CORTIS, along with a couple of music shows. You pencil them in your notebook, along with the words ‘remind Yoonchae to bring the camera!’
“You know,” Yoonchae hums. “Speaking of dating idols, I do wanna know what it must be like to date one. It’s like Yuna said – they’ve always got so much going on, how would they have the time? Hey, maybe you should write an article on this.” Her words aren’t meant to be serious, but you take it as such.
You can hear your pulse in your ears as your brain processes what Yoonchae has said. She’s tapping away at her laptop like she hadn’t just pitched the most amazing idea in the world.
“Wait,” you pipe up, dropping your pencil on the desk. It clanks to the ground, and you don’t even bother picking it up. Your eyes snapping up from your notebook to look at her. “You’re onto something.”
Yoonchae’s idea, if put into action, would give you an inside scoop that no journalist had ever had access to before – even if you were cordially invited to the shows and showcases of every group on the planet. Everybody wanted to know what it was like to date an idol, there was no doubt about that.
If you turned this into a piece, you knew it would tick all the boxes. Exclusive? Check. Daring? Check. Eye-catching? Check. Three big fat checks. It was perfect.
This… this was exactly the pitch that would land you a full-time job at Stereo. For someone who said they hated working in the news publishing industry, Yoonchae had just given you a golden ticket to a full-time job at Stereo. You’re just upset that you hadn’t come up with it first.
“What it’s like to date an idol,” you hum under your breath as you brainstorm, drumming your fingers on your desk. “Sure, it may be gossipy and scandalous, but Jisoo was saying that we’re not getting enough clicks, right? And after… I don’t know. 10 shows, maybe? I could just… dump him. Or find a way for him to dump me.”
You say that so casually, and you wince when you’ve realised what you’ve said. You’ve never been one to be a heartbreaker, or one to get into casual relationships with an ulterior motive, but you really wanted this job.
Finding someone to even be able to “date” for this article would probably be difficult. And once you got them to fall in love with you, getting them to dump you would likely be easy. Idols barely had time for relationships anyways, right? You wouldn’t necessarily be heartbroken at the prospect of losing him, because you had a job to do, and he wouldn’t really care that much. No harm, no foul.
You thought she had gone back to her office by now. Your head snaps to look at her, fear evident in your eyes until her words register in your brain. Jisoo had just said the idea was brilliant. Your heart is beating so incredibly fast you think it might jump out of your chest.
“Write it,” Jisoo says, and her lips quirk up into a smile. It’s like she can see the thousands, if not millions of views that your piece will bring in to Stereo already.
“If you can, of course. You’ve got two weeks left here, but I’m more than happy to extend your internship if you need more time to work on the article. And if it goes well…” she trails off, and you swear that if you could read her mind right now, you’re sure she’s about to say something along the lines of: you have a place here permanently.
You look at her, bright-eyed and with determination. “Of course, Jisoo. I’ll get right to it,” you stammer. Jisoo nods at you approvingly before she walks back to her office, heels clicking on the floor with a certain enthusiasm that wasn’t there before. She’s excited about your article. Your boss – the one who was notoriously difficult to appease, was happy with an article pitch of yours. Well, Yoonchae gave you the idea, but technically, you’d be the one to flesh it out.
Yoonchae looks at you, eyes wide with a look of bewilderment. “What… what have you gotten yourself into?” she asks, her tone laced with disbelief. She wheels her chair over to you, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you.
“How… How the hell are you going to go bag an idol in the two weeks that we have here? Are you crazy?” she hisses, and the realisation of how difficult your task was actually sinks in. Thinking about it was fine and seemed easy enough, but now… now you actually had to do something.
“I… I’m going to figure something out, Yoonchae,” you say. “I have to.”
You wanted this job. You were going to make it work.
Jisoo would get that article, and it's going to be the best article that she’s ever read in her life.
The CORTIS comeback showcase is buzzing with people.
You scan your media pass at the entrance and wait at the side before Yoonchae comes through. You’ve got your notebook, pens and laptops in your bag, and the two of you head towards your designated seats at the front.
The plastic chairs are arranged in an orderly fashion, with yours and Yoonchae’s names printed out on paper and stuck to the chair to tell you where you both will be sitting. Much to your delight, you two are seated in the front row.
When the two of you sit down, you pull out your laptop, setting it on top of your lap. It’s been three days since you told Jisoo that you’d be writing that article, and as the days have gone by, you think you might’ve been a little too confident.
Music Bank was at the end of the week, and you think that you probably have your best shot there, but waiting was making you incredibly nervous. You didn’t want Jisoo to scrap the idea before you even started.
“So… found an idol to date yet?” Yoonchae almost reads your mind, and you groan as you open up your notes app. You click to the note titled ‘CORTIS comeback’, and all the questions that you have prepared pop up right in front of you.
“No, I haven’t,” you sigh, tapping your foot on the ground. “Thank you for reminding me, Yoonchae.”
Yoonchae smiles with amusement, as if she’s somewhat entertained by the predicament that you’ve put yourself into. You groan as you think about the article once again, and you scan through your options. You really could only take your pick from some 4th gen groups and the 5th gen groups.
This assignment was way easier in your head. The dating and dumping part was easy. The part where you had to get an idol to want to get to know you enough to move on to the dating stage was the hard bit.
Backstage, Martin peeks behind the curtains to get a good glimpse of the crowd. Although their new album just released today, Keonho just had to remind him of the bet as they were getting dressed.
Now, Martin has to actually find someone to make them fall hopelessly in love with him. Keonho had been ever so gracious to say that the comeback showcase didn’t technically count as a show, so in reality, Martin kind of had 11 shows. One more show couldn’t possibly make much of a difference, but 11 was a little less daunting than 10.
So now, he's searching amongst the crowd to see if he can find someone who he thinks would help him win the bet.
Keonho joins him, and it's like he can read Martin's mind, because he instinctively does the same. “Okay, let’s see. Which girl…” he hums. His eyes are scanning the crowd with hawk-like concentration.
“Okay, what about her?” Keonho says, motioning towards a brunette girl sitting in the second row.
“No,” Martin replies quickly, shaking his head. “Looks like she’d ghost me, but tell all her friends that we dated for a month.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Keonho replies. Seonghyeon catches wind of what’s going on and decides to join the two of them. Seonghyeon’s eyes land on a girl sitting not far away from the brunette, and she’s got dyed pink hair. He tilts his chin towards her.
“Her?” Seonghyeon proposes.
“Nope,” Martin says. “Feel like she’d ask me if I can give her BTS’ phone number. Which I also wish I had.”
“Fine,” Keonho says, and his eyes land on Yoonchae. “What about her?” He gestures towards her, but Martin’s eyes land on you.
You’re typing away at your laptop with determined focus, and Martin doesn’t know why he finds it so intriguing. You’ve got one earphone in your ear, the other dangling as you talk to Yoonchae. You’re wearing a striped zip-up jacket and jeans – you’re not trying to be noticed at all, but it makes you stand out even more to Martin. You’re sitting in the front row with a media pass around your neck, so Martin knows that you’re definitely not a fan.
That checks the box.
For him to actually win the bet, he should’ve made it easy for himself. But there’s something about you that makes Martin want to actually get to know you better. And truthfully, he did like a challenge.
Keonho notices how Martin’s gone silent. He’s looking in the direction that Keonho had originally pointed towards, but he sees that Martin’s looking at you, rather than Yoonchae. “Ah,” Keonho hums. “The one sitting next to her’s caught your eye.”
“Sure,” Martin replies casually. “You could say that. You said any non-fan, right? She fits the bill.”
“Alright, Martin hyung,” Keonho grins in amusement. “10 shows. It’s all you’ve got to make her fall in love with you.”
“That's all I need,” Martin replies.
Martin prays he’s right.
The comeback showcase goes well.
You enjoy the music a lot – you liked CORTIS’ debut album anyways, so you weren’t really surprised that they had released something good again. Their stage presence was always insane from the videos you’ve watched online, and witnessing it in person was no different.
However, you did seem to notice one of the members’ – Martin’s – eyes on you a little too often. You also had a hunch that perhaps they had talked about you, because whenever there was someone asking a question from your direction, Keonho would elbow Martin with a knowing smirk on his lips.
“So, what was that?” Eight out of ten?” Yoonchae asks you as she begins to pack up her things. The fans have been told to leave by now, and the only people really left are media and industry professionals. You look at what you’ve written down, and you’ve practically given five stars to all of the songs. The lowest is a 4.5, and you’d like to think that you have a pretty high bar for greatness.
“I mean… nine?” you hum. “There’s always room for improvement, right?”
“High praises,” you hear a voice that’s not Yoonchae interrupting your conversation. It’s also a voice that you’ve heard far too many times tonight. You turn to look at the stranger, and you meet eyes with none other than the Martin Edwards. “It means a lot. Thank you.”
Yoonchae opens and closes her mouth like a fish, stunned at Martin’s sudden presence. But then she remembers something the same time you do – the article. She purposely moves to stand behind him, mouthing at you: ‘he’s the one!’
You know Martin Edwards is exactly who he thinks he is. 6 '3, gorgeous dyed blonde hair, impeccable music-making skills and the coolest fashion sense in the industry right now. If you hadn’t seen more of him on your social media, you’d be genuinely a little intimidated by him.
But you know that he’s a sweet guy. He’s also a little bit of a goofball too – loud, likes making his friends laugh, and often gives in to a little too much of his fans’ requests. The fan call videos were certainly something, and you’re really wondering how much he gets paid to tell someone else ‘I love you, you’re my girlfriend.’
He’s still in his clothes from the showcase – silver jewellery hangs around his neck, with three rings on each finger. You observe his features for perhaps maybe a little too long, and his lips curl up in the slightest hint of a smirk.
Yoonchae clears her throat, giving you a wink. “So, I’m gonna go grab something for us at the convenience store nearby. (Name), I’ll be back in about 15 minutes.”
Before you can protest, she’s already darted off. You curse under your breath before looking back at Martin, who’s eyeing you with a mischievous glint in his eye. You can’t quite place your finger on why that is, but maybe he caught you staring.
“So… (Name),” he says. His voice is smooth, and his name rolls off your tongue like he’s testing the waters. There’s a certain cadence in his tone that sends butterflies straight to your stomach. “I’m glad you liked the album. We worked hard on it.”
“I’m sure you did,” you beam. “Do you go thanking every member of the media after the showcase?”
Martin’s airy laughter rings through the air, and his smile grows even wider. “Oh, no,” he says breezily, waving you off. “Just the pretty ones.”
You’re knocked off your feet for just a split second. Was Martin Edwards flirting with you? And was it… dare you say… working?
And suddenly, the article doesn’t feel so difficult anymore. With Martin Edwards standing right in front of you, you realise that you have the perfect candidate.
His group was still new on the scene, but everybody wanted to get to know CORTIS just a little bit better. Your article would do that. Even if fans said that Martin was practically an open book, the boy standing in front of you now wasn’t necessarily the one you saw on stage mere minutes ago.
Sure, he was still confident and assured. But there was the slightest difference in the way he carried himself – a little less guarded, a little less… idol-like. Perhaps it was the flirting, honestly.
You come to your senses, quirking a brow at him. “Oh, so you think I’m pretty?”
The air is electric, and usually you’d be nervous, but just this once, you think that it’s perfect. Martin’s grin somehow grows wider before he nods.
“I do,” he hums. “Thought I said that before. And if my eyes didn’t deceive me just before your friend scurried off… you might’ve been staring at my face for just a smidge too long.”
Your cheeks heat up. “I… I was not!”
Martin lets out another laugh, clearly amused at how flustered you were. “I’m just teasing,” he replies. “Regardless, it’s not often I see someone working in the media that’s around the same age as us. And as I’m saying this, I’m hoping that you’re in your last year of high school.”
You nod at his words. “I am,” you reply. “Same age as you.”
“Perfect,” he grins. “I’m glad I was right, or I would’ve embarrassed myself coming up to you.”
“Right,” you chuckle. “So… any other pretty members of the media you want to thank?” you look around, and the exhibition hall is just about empty. Martin shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Just you.”
“Way to make a girl feel special, Edwards,” you quip. Martin ignores how his heart flutters when you simply just call him by his last name. “What's the phone for? A selfie? Just a reminder that you're the idol there."
"You're funny," Martin replies. There's sincerity in his tone. "But, I was hoping that perhaps I could get your number.”
You look at him, your lips curling up into a smile. “Ah, you’ve beat me to it,” you pout, jutting out your bottom lip. “I was hoping that I’d be the one to make that move.”
Your words are awfully confident, making you sound completely unfazed at Martin’s flirtatious words. But inside, you’re internally screaming. You’re trying to hide your nerves, and Martin’s gaze on you is not helping as your thumb carefully presses the keys on the screen.
“There we go,” you say, pressing the ‘save’ button. “You should text me. I’d love to hear from you.”
“You would?” Martin asks, almost in disbelief. He can’t believe how well the flirting is going. Keonho, Juhoon, James and Seonghyeon would so be losing their money.
“Of course,” you beam. Your eyes tilt towards the exit, and you see Yoonchae standing there. She’s not hurrying you, but you know that it’s time to go. “Listen, I’ve got to head back home, but… yeah. Text me, and let’s hang out.”
“Are you asking me out?” Martin says, a coy smile on his lips.
“Maybe I am,” you reply. Your eyes dart back to Yoonchae again, and a sudden wave of boldness makes you inch closer to him, pressing a chaste kiss to Martin’s cheek. You watch as his cheeks flush bright pink, and you can’t help but feel satisfied with yourself. Got him, you think. “I’ll see you around, Edwards.”
Before Martin can say anything, you’ve already rushed off. He instinctively brings a hand to his cheek, and he smiles triumphantly.
“Oh, you’re already falling in love with me,” he says to himself, a wide grin on his lips.
Meanwhile, as you’re darting off to the car, a similar expression graces your lips. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead,” you whisper.
Conversation with Martin is surprisingly easy.
He texts you as soon as he gets back to the dorm, and you reply just as quickly. You shoot off flirtatious messages every other second like a seasoned professional, and Martin replies with just as much enthusiasm. You just know he’s probably cheesing behind the screen. You don’t notice how you’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, though.
Martin is incredibly flirtatious, like you’ve seen online. You really thought it was all just fan service, but it turns out, Martin did really act that way. You’ve earned a new nickname now, thanks to him – pretty.
Minutes turn into hours, and sure enough, the two of you found yourself talking to each other until four in the morning. It’s not until you remind him that he’s got a schedule tomorrow and that you’ve got work, and then you two say goodnight.
Martin gives you recommendations of his favourite songs, and you rate them just like you usually do for Stereo. You find that your music taste is surprisingly similar, and Martin just tells you that ‘perhaps it’s a sign that we’re meant to be.’ You smile a little too wide at that response, and your heart flutters in the slightest way. You reply with a ‘I think so’, and Martin beams seeing those words on his screen.
You didn’t think that it was that easy to get Martin Edwards to fall in love with you, but honestly at this point, you think that you’ve got him absolutely whipped.
For three days, you and Martin talk non-stop. Whenever you’ve got a break, and he’s got a break, the two of you are talking about anything remotely that interests you. Bailey, another colleague of yours, tells you that you seem awfully invested in this considering that it’s just an article assignment.
On the fourth day, you head into work and find that there’s a tray of iced coffees on your desk. Yoonchae looks at you with a knowing grin as you pick up the sticky note, and sure enough, it’s Martin’s handwriting.
Hi, pretty. For you and the team. – Edwards.
You fail to hide the smile that’s unconsciously crept up on your lips. When Yoonchae points it out, you just tell her to shut up. This was all for the article, you remind yourself. You weren’t really in love with Martin Edwards. You hand out the coffees, and when you give one to Jisoo, she raises an eyebrow.
“Did you bring this in?” she asks, and you shake your head.
“Martin from CORTIS did,” you say. There’s a coy lilt in your tone, and Jisoo seems to remember the article. She smiles at you proudly, and gives you a pat on the shoulder before taking a sip of the coffee.
“Good work,” she beams. “Can’t wait to see the article.”
She then walks off, heels clicking on the floor. Yoonchae clears her throat to catch your attention, and you look at her, taking a sip of the coffee that Martin had bought you.
“So… what’s the plan to get him to dump you? Because… getting him whipped seemed pretty fucking easy. Like, this is three-month relationship stuff.” she says, gesturing to the coffee on her own table. Bailey, who's curiosity is piqued at the sound of Yoonchae's words, rolls her chair over to you to join in the conversation.
“I’m going to be entirely too much, too overbearing and too clingy to the point where he has to break up with me,” you say. Your plan is absolutely fool-proof. “They’re heading to New York in three weeks. Let’s get this done in the 10 shows they have in Korea.”
Bailey hums, nodding at your words. “Okay, but like… do you have any specifics?”
“Calm down,” you reply. “I don’t have to move that fast. We’ve known each other only for four days. No sane person is going to ask someone to be their girlfriend in four days.”
“You have three weeks, (Name) – you better hurry up…” Yoonchae replies, her voice trailing off. “Maybe just a date? Tonight? You know how they’ve got to basically be in the middle of the night though, right – because cameras are everywhere. Your sleep schedule is going to be fucked when you’re dating Martin.”
“Well, you didn’t have to put so much emphasis on the ‘fucked’,” you raise an eyebrow. “But yeah, a date sounds good. I’ll text him now.”
you | 7:32am
thanks for the coffee, edwards
it was really sweet of you
can i thank you with a date?
martin edwards | 7:33am
ah, i was waiting for that text from you
of course!
tomorrow? after you’re done with work?
you | 7:34am
sounds like a plan
wear something nice
martin edwards | 7:34am
i always do
gonna step it up to impress you though
can’t wait to see you, pretty
Yoonchae peers over your shoulder. “Don’t they have to go to Inkigayo tomorrow? How will you two have time to actually… go on a date?”
“Shoot, you’re right,” you reply. You quickly type out a message to Martin, your fingers flying over the screen.
you | 7:35am
you have inkigayo
martin edwards | 7:35am
ah. right
date at inkigayo? you could be my plus one
you’ll be there anyways right? as media?
you | 7:36am
first date at inkigayo is highly unorthodox
i’m in, though
only because it’s you
martin edwards | 7:37am
i feel so special
sneaking around is gonna be awfully romantic
i’ve got dance practice now and i’m sure you’ve got work
talk soon pretty
“Well… first date at Inkigayo,” you say, almost in disbelief. So this was what it was like to date an idol – music show dates, late-night dates, probably getting blown off because dance practice takes precedence. You note that down in your notebook, because you’re sure that it’ll be of use to you later. “That’s settled.”
“I suppose it is,” Yoonchae says. She’s still in disbelief at the entire interaction – she was peering over your shoulder the entire time. “Also, you should probably change his contact name to something other than his full name. It’s not that romantic.”
“I… ‘Chae, he’s not my real boyfriend,” you say, pointedly. “Heck, he hasn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend. Which actually reminds me, I have to get on that.” You do take her advice though, and change his name simply to ‘Edwards’ with an orange heart emoji. It’s plausible enough, considering that you do call him exclusively by his last name.
“I must say… this is going surprisingly well,” Bailey hums. “Even though I know it’s really new. Just… don’t go falling in love with him, or something. That would ruin the entire thing.”
You laugh, dismissing Bailey's words as if they were ludicrous. “Don’t worry,” you hum, your tone laced with a little too much confidence.
“I’m not going to actually fall in love with Martin Edwards.”
For someone who’s allegedly not invested in this ‘relationship’ at all, you do spend an awfully long time picking out your outfit for Inkigayo tonight.
CORTIS had a reputation for being incredibly fashionable – if you were going to be introduced as ‘Martin Edwards’ talking stage and to-be girlfriend’ tonight, you had to at least look the part.
You opt for something so outrageously Martin-esque to the point where you look like you could genuinely be the sixth member of CORTIS. So much so, that any random staff member would probably think that you pulled it out of his closet.
Members of the media were supposed to be unassuming, trying to avoid the public eye at all costs – but just for today, you were going to break that rule. Just based off of your outfit alone, you wanted it to be glaringly obvious that you were talking to Martin.
You pull on these black, chunky boots that you haven’t worn in forever (you even have to blow the dust off of them) lacing them up with a smile on your lips. Martin Edwards was so going to freak out when he saw you. You could just envision it.
Yoonchae looks at you oddly when you jump into the car – this was certainly not your style at all. “Okay, Martin’s girl. You might as well just dye your hair blonde too,” she quips. Usually you’d tell her to shut up, but that was exactly the reaction you were looking for.
edwards 🧡 | 6:23pm
let me know when you’re here
we’re in dressing room 103
you | 6:24pm
im on my way
see you 🧡🧡🧡
“You go find Martin,” Yoonchae tells you, a playful smile on her lips. “I’ll tell you where we’re seated for tonight’s performances… if you’ll even be joining me here.”
You laugh, waving goodbye to her before you go off and find dressing room 103. You see a bunch of staff members at Inkigayo give you odd looks. They saw you here last week too, and you most certainly were not dressed like this. A girl you’ve made conversation with a couple of times – her name was Yoojung – mouths ‘Martin fan?’ at you, and you simply give her a wide grin before disappearing down the corridor.
You knock on dressing room 103, tapping your foot on the floor. Your mind runs through the plan – too overbearing, too clingy, too boisterous. You’re going to make Martin go insane.
Martin opens the door, since he was expecting you anyways. But what he did not expect was for you to be dressed in clothes that seemed like they were pulled from his closet. He looks you up and down, mouth opening and closing as if he’s about to speak – but all the words he has to say become strangled in his throat.
“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual. You want him to think that no, this outfit did not take me forever.
“You look…” Martin stutters.
Time to pack on the dramatics, you think. “Gorgeous? Stunning? Beautiful?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. “Tell me something I don’t know, Edwards.”
Martin’s brain almost short-circuits. He’s still at a complete loss of words, and for a split second he thinks that Seonghyeon may be right – does he even know how to flirt? He’s trying to rack his brain for a compliment, or anything that makes it known that he thinks you look good.
Keonho clears his throat, and it brings Martin back to his senses – the bet. Time for him to make you fall hopelessly in love and make you weak in the knees, he thinks. He instantly puts a smile on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies. “All of those things.”
“Next time though, if you wanted to dress like me, you should’ve just said so,” he adds. He hopes Seonghyeon’s listening – he was about to deliver a masterclass in flirting. “Just wear my actual clothes instead.”
Your heart flutters a little too much at those words, and for a brief second, Martin thinks that he can see your confidence falter ever so slightly. Bingo, he thinks. Another win.
“Oh, so that’s an invitation for me to just wear all your clothes, isn’t it?” you ask. “Moving fast, Edwards.” You peek behind him to see the other four boys watching the two of you talk with curiosity. Keonho’s eyes are practically sparkling.
You raise your voice a little before you say your next sentence. “Mind you, you still haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend.”
You don’t know which member it is that hollers loudly hearing your words. Martin turns around so fast you think he’s going to snap his neck. He glares at the four of them, before diverting his attention back to you.
This was going exceptionally well. Four days in, and you already wanted to be his girlfriend. Anyone who said that he didn’t have game was going to regret it.
“Right,” he says, dragging out the word as a smile plays on his lips. “Let me introduce you to the members first, and then we’ll talk about that, pretty.”
He opens the door a little wider to actually let you into the dressing room, and the four of them blink at you, stunned when they see your outfit. Your outfit was almost a carbon-copy of something that they think they’ve seen Martin wear before. Was it a little tacky to dress almost identical to your talking stage? Probably. But their reactions were golden, and you hope to God that Martin’s cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.
“Guys, this is (Name),” Martin says, introducing you. You beam at the four of them just before lacing your fingers with Martin. The action comes out of nowhere, and Martin freezes for a split second before he closes his hand around yours. Your hand is warm, and Martin doesn't know why having your hand in his just feels oddly... right.
You swear Juhoon’s eyes pop out of his skull. Seonghyeon’s jaw practically drops. James puts his glasses back on to make sure that his eyes aren’t deceiving him. Keonho shrieks before falling to the floor dramatically.
“I’m his…” your voice trails off. Suddenly, an idea pops into your brain. What did anyone in a talking stage hate the most?
The dreaded ‘what are we?’ question.
Martin would hate it even more if you asked that question right in front of his friends. It was perfect.
A devious grin threatens to creep up onto your lips before you turn to Martin. “What are we, exactly?”
Seonghyeon chokes on his water while Juhoon has to suppress a laugh. Martin can’t believe you asked that question in front of everyone – you were impatient, alright. He was actually going to ask you to be his girlfriend, but in private. But considering your outfit choice today, perhaps you were someone who wanted to make your affection for him known. He knows that he should feel embarrassed, but surprisingly, he doesn’t.
Four days is awfully fast to ask someone to be their girlfriend, but Martin wanted to win this bet. Badly.
And the first step to actually make it known to his friends that he was going to win, was to loudly announce that you were his girlfriend. Martin can’t wait for Keonho to pay for those Rick Owens shoes that he’s been eyeing for ages.
“She’s my girlfriend.” he says, a coy smile tugging at his lips.
The room practically explodes with questions, shouts and what you think are cheers. You weren’t exactly expecting this reaction from Martin, but it’s more than welcomed, considering the predicament that you’ve gotten yourself into. The first half of your job was done – you’ve gotten the idol. Now you just needed him to dump you.
But for some odd reason, him telling everyone in the room that you were his girlfriend makes your chest tighten ever so slightly. You ignore the feeling, telling yourself that it’s just nerves. You’ll ease more into the role of annoying girlfriend as the days go on.
You look at him, tilting your head with a small smile on your lips. “Didn’t even ask me,” you whisper in his ear. You hear Martin let out a light laugh amidst the chaos that those three words had created.
“Isn’t that what you were hinting at me to do when you arrived at the door?” he replies, voice matching yours. Touché, you think.
“Well,” you say, turning to face him. “That’s true. And I’m happy you did.” Your eyes quickly divert towards the four boys sitting on the couch – they’re still going on and on about how Martin actually has a girlfriend. They’re saying it as if they’re in disbelief that he’s actually with you.
Believe it, you think. To really sell it, you dramatically plant a kiss on Martin’s cheek. You’re thanking yourself that you decided to wear lipstick that wasn’t transfer-proof today, and you can practically hear Keonho’s gasp. When you pull away, there it is – a glaringly obvious stain of your lips on the side of his cheek.
“Oops,” you say, but Martin can tell you’re not really sorry about it at all. You bring a hand up to wipe the stain off, and Martin just shakes his head, gently clutching your wrist as if to tell you to leave it.
“I’ll just use some makeup remover,” he replies, calmly. You’re surprised that Martin’s face isn’t heating up with embarrassment – maybe you just had to be even more dramatic than you already were. In fact, he was smiling like an idiot in love. Was he crazy? “Thanks for the good luck kiss, girlfriend.”
It’s official. All Martin has to do is get you to stay with him until the end of the tenth show. All you have to do is get him to dump you before the tenth show.
And as you squeeze Martin’s hand a little tighter before planting another overly obnoxious kiss on his cheek, you’re almost certain that you’re going to get that full-time job.
Over the next week, Martin realises that first impressions are deceiving.
You’re not who he thought you’d be when he first saw you at the comeback showcase – rather, you’re the complete opposite. Loud, boisterous, unrestrained. You’re overly sweet and romantic in a way that Martin thought only existed in rom-coms. It’s nice to be showered in love and affection, and Martin – despite his better judgment – allows his heart to flutter whenever you lean a little closer, or when his name rolls off your tongue like honey over the phone.
You send him texts almost every single second now that you two are officially a couple (can he even call you his actual girlfriend when this was all a bet?). You also show up at almost every performance of theirs throughout the week.
The members and the staff all get used to your presence rather quickly – it’s not surprising, considering that whenever you’re there, your presence somehow commands the entire room. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and he doesn’t know if he loves or hates the extra attention that you bring with you. In addition, Martin doesn’t even know how you have the time to basically cling to him like glue when you’ve got a full-time job.
His phone pings again, and he already knows who it’s from. It’s you, sending him twenty messages in a row – each text is one word, and Martin would usually get a little frustrated, but it was you. He doesn’t think he can bring himself to actually get mad at you, which is the crazy part considering that this was all a bet.
You send him four selfies of yourself sitting in the front row of the same exhibition centre where you guys had met. He’s admiring how pretty you look until he realises the article of clothing that you’re wearing is awfully familiar. It’s then when it hits him – you’re wearing his striped red and black zip-up hoodie.
The one that he precisely wanted to wear today.
Martin knows that the zip-up basically swallows you, because he’s seen you in his other clothes before. His heart does a flip at the thought. It’s just a bet, he reminds himself.
You look pretty, he tells you. You respond almost immediately.
I know, is your response. Martin doesn’t realise how hard he’s grinning at his screen right now.
Is that my jacket? he asks you.
Your response? It’s mine now.
His nostrils flare slightly at the fact that you’ve just claimed his favourite zip-up hoodie, but he relents and lets you have it anyway. You did look good in it, he had to admit.
You practically demand his attention at all times, which is a little impossible considering his job. More often than not, whenever he’s practicing with the rest of the members, his phone would be buzzing so much to the point where it fell off the bench. Keonho only looks at him teasingly before Martin quickly shoots back a response to you, telling you that he’s got dance practice.
You don’t seem to care, and you continue spamming him anyways. Despite this, Martin can’t seem to push you away. Or mute your contact.
You’re sitting in the exhibition centre, confused as to why Martin hasn’t gone batshit crazy over the fact that you’ve taken his favourite zip-up without any warning. Keonho had warned you about how Martin didn’t like sharing his clothes. Perhaps you just had to take it a little further, then.
So, a day later, Martin opens the door to his dorm to find you standing there. You hadn’t announced that you were coming, and Martin assumed that you had work anyways. What he didn’t know was that you’d asked Jisoo for some time off today to work on the article – it was going well, you had told her. At those words, Jisoo nodded, giving you time off without a single thought.
“Hi?” Martin asks, stunned at the sight of you at his doorstep.
“I thought you’d be a little happier to see me,” you pout, and Martin shakes his head.
“No, no!” he says hastily. “I was just surprised to see you. Come on in,” he opens the door a little wider for you. You kick your shoes off at the door, and Martin winces a little when you just leave them there instead of putting it on the shoe rack. He decides to do it for you, like any good boyfriend would – placing your shoes next to a pair of his own sneakers.
“Thank you, ‘Tinnie.” you beam, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Even though there’s nobody else there right now, you make it a big show and exaggerate every motion. You deliberately say ‘mwah’ when you pull away, admiring the lipstick print on Martin’s cheek.
Oddly, Martin doesn’t wipe it off. Maybe he’s insane. Or maybe he’s just insanely whipped like Yoonchae said.
“Tinnie is a new one,” he hums. “Finally moved on from calling me Edwards?”
You shake your head, bounding down the corridor like it’s your place rather than his. Martin follows you like a lost puppy. “Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’. “Just trying out something new. But, I wanted to grab some clothes.”
Martin furrows his brows. “You want to go shopping?” he asks. “Sure, I’ll just go grab my coat.”
You hold a hand out to stop him. “No, I want to wear some of your clothes,” you say like it’s the most casual thing in the world. It’s totally not like you two have only been dating for a week. “If that’s alright with you, of course?”
Martin can’t say no to you. Not when he remembers how nice you looked in his striped zip-up. He nods reluctantly, and you squeal, dragging him towards his closet.
You’re raiding Martin’s closet like it’s a department store sale. You’re grabbing hanger after hanger and asking him to hold onto them for you, and Martin can barely keep up. In five minutes, he’s somehow holding five of his own hoodies and three of his t-shirts, while you’re trying on another one of his zip-ups.
You’re twirling around in it, looking at your own reflection in the mirror. You look at Martin for his approval, and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. “Looks great on you, pretty.”
You really should be used to the compliments that Martin dishes out, but your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. Bailey’s voice rings in your head – don’t fall in love with him. You can’t believe you have to remind yourself.
Seonghyeon walks in to grab a jacket, and he’s stunned at the scene. Martin’s got hoodies and shirts and jumpers draped over him as you pull out something else from his side of the closet.
“What the…” he says, and Martin turns to look at him.
“Hi,” Martin says. He can barely see. There’s a hoodie over his head, and he can’t bring his arm up to pull it off. “(Name) wanted some of my clothes.” Seonghyeon, who’s ever so kind, pulls the hoodie off Martin’s head.
“Okay,” Seonghyeon giggles. “Have fun, you lovebirds.” Before he leaves, he mouths at Martin, 10 shows. Though your presence is awfully over-the-top, Seonghyeon doesn’t quite mind having you around. It was rather funny to witness yours and Martin’s dynamic.
You take four more pieces of his clothing, and Martin helps you fold them all up neatly before placing them into a bag. “There you go,” he says, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Happy?”
“Very,” you giggle. You do feel a little guilty for stealing half his closet. “Thank you, ‘Tin. Do you want to watch a movie? I’ll let you pick, since I’ve taken so many of your clothes.” Though it was for an article, you weren’t a monster. You don’t realise how instinctively, you’ve leaned into his touch.
Martin nods, grinning as he kisses your temple like he’s done this a million times before. It’s getting awfully easy for him to slip into the role of your boyfriend. “Sure,” he hums. “We can watch something on my laptop.”
You curl up next to him on his bed, your head resting on his chest and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind playing on his laptop. Martin presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.
This domesticity feels a little too natural. A little too real – like you two are actually two teenagers in love.
The slightest twinge of guilt pangs at your heart. You don't know it, but when the thought of the bet flashes through Martin's head, that same feeling strikes him in the chest too.
Martin’s eyes leave the screen for a split second to look at you, and he pushes the thought of the bet to the back of his head.
His closet may be a little bit more empty now, but his heart feels the slightest bit more full.
“I think Martin is a lunatic.” you confess to Yoonchae at work one day.
CORTIS had five more shows left in Korea before they were due to leave for New York City, and any logical person would have already broken up with you at this point.
But for some strange reason, Martin stayed. Not even just stayed – pulled you closer, even. He flirted with you more. Peppered your face with kisses. Proudly showed you off to his friends.
He’s either insane, or he loves crazy girls. You don’t know which is worse.
What you didn't know, of course, was that Martin was practically clinging on to this relationship for dear life. 10 shows, he reminds himself. He needed a girl to stay with him for three full weeks and to somehow put up with his insanely hectic schedule. Martin half-expected to barely see you, but you somehow managed to find a way to sneak into his life more often than not. It was welcomed, of course – he could show his friends that yes, he could flirt, and yes, an idol was able to date.
You were acting batshit crazy, and he still wanted you to be his girlfriend. Martin still hasn't dumped your ass, and that was absolutely shocking.
Idols were always busy, so you decided to do the very thing that all busy people hated: you spammed Martin all day.
You sent him stupid TikToks, telling him to reply to each and every single one. You called him at random hours, sent him voice messages, and practically demanded his attention every single second.
The crazy thing was, Martin would reply to every TikTok. He’d always pick up. He’d reply to every single voice message with his own, and you hated how you always smiled hearing his voice and his loud laugh through your headphones.
You showed up unannounced to so many performances to the point where his manager would only sigh, and reluctantly let you in. You’ve embarrassed him by showering him with affection in front of quite literally everyone. You heard how Keonho tried – and failed – to hide a shriek when you made a big show of calling Martin ‘baby’ five minutes before they were due to head on stage.
One night at his dorm, you’d even spent one whole hour asking the most basic questions about music production, forcing him to overexplain like he was teaching a toddler. You knew all the answers to the questions, but you’d asked them anyway just to rile him up.
Martin thinks that for someone who’s working at Stereo, you should know. But regardless, he explains it all to you patiently, smiling like he’s glad that his girlfriend is actually interested in what he does – much to your dismay.
Martin didn’t even bat an eye when you purposely stole all of his favourite clothes from his closet a few days ago. You’re sitting at your desk in the Stereo office, wearing Martin’s hoodie that is outrageously large on you. You’re shocked that he didn’t protest more, especially when you grabbed one of the expensive ones. Instead, he smiled, told you that you looked gorgeous, folded it up neatly and then gave it to you.
You also realise that you don’t hate the affection that he showers you with. It feels quite nice, actually – to be cared for by Martin Edwards.
But, this was truly not going well for your article.
“Why is that?” Yoonchae asks. “Because he hasn’t dumped you?”
“Yes!” you exclaim, as if it was the obvious answer. “He’s staying! Which is the crazy part! Idols don’t have time for this clingy, over-the-top nonsense, do they? So it’s either he’s insane, or he loves crazy girls.”
“There’s another obvious answer,” Bailey chimes in, a smile playing on her lips. “He just likes you.”
Bailey’s words hit you like a truck, and you ignore how your heart jumps at the thought. Martin Edwards likes you? You hate to say it, but that was truly… not implausible. But if Martin actually liked you – with all your craziness – surely, he had to be just the slightest bit insane.
“I…” your cheeks heat up. “Okay.” you grumble, eyes diverting back to your laptop screen. You need to figure out a way to drive Martin absolutely up the wall – he had a strong resolve, there was no doubt about it. Something about music seemed right.
Your eyes sparkle with delight when you remember that Martin said that he was going to be working on some music tonight in his studio. Something about recording some adlibs and some lines for their next album. Even while promoting music that was released recently, Martin was always working on something new. It was honestly incredibly admirable.
So, you find yourself slumped on a chair next to Martin at 9:30 at night, watching as he works on a new song. There’s a microphone in front of his lips as he clips sections together with silent precision. His brows are furrowed in concentration, and you deem it the perfect time to enact your plan.
“Tinnie,” you say, dragging out his name. He hums, acknowledging you, but his eyes don’t leave the screen. You nudge him gently, and he glances towards you. There’s a soft look in his eye, and a small smile graces his lips. “What do you think about this dog?”
You show him a picture of this random white poodle that came up on your For You page. He squints at it, nodding. “It’s cute, baby. Why?” he asks, before his eyes divert back to his screen again.
“I want a dog,” you say. “Let’s get a dog.”
That catches Martin’s attention. “You want… us to get a dog?” he asks, in complete disbelief. You nod, and Martin’s eyes bug out of his skull. He can’t believe what you’ve just said. A dog was a big relationship commitment, right?
Martin could barely take care of himself sometimes – how was he going to take care of a dog? And who was going to pay for the dog? He’d made enough money from the song royalties, but still. The proposal was a little insane.
“That’s really sweet, baby – but we’ve only been dating for like a week,” he hums, hand gently caressing your shoulder. “And I don’t know how we’d even take care of it – would it live at your house? It can’t live in our dorm, you know.”
You pout at his words.
“I’m sorry. We can… go to a dog cafe, or something. I’ll take you sometime next week,” Martin looks at you sympathetically. Just give me a few minutes to work on this song, is that alright? I have to record some bits tonight, and then we can watch a movie.”
You nod, letting out a small sigh. Martin thinks it’s because he lightly rejected your proposal for you two to get a dog. In reality, it was really because you can’t seem to figure out a way to get Martin to actually dump you. What normal person asks their boyfriend of one week to get a dog with them?
Martin glances at you before he pulls up the lyrics of the song on his phone. He taps the record button, and just as he’s about to sing into the microphone, your voice cuts through the air.
“Tinnie,” you pipe up, and Martin pauses the recording. He really wanted to get this song finished by tonight. You see the slightest hint of frustration on his face, and you do feel bad – but despite all your past attempts to get him to drive you away, nothing else seemed to work.
“Hmm?” he asks.
“Do you have any drinks?” you ask, and Martin nods, rolling his chair back so he can open the mini-fridge under the desk. He pulls out a can of Coke – he knows your favourite – cracking it open for you before sliding it over to you.
“Thank you, Tinnie,” you beam. Martin thinks that seeing your smile is worth it, even if he did have to pause recording for a bit. Even if you sometimes did have awfully bad timing, he’s realising that he’s grown accustomed to your antics. “I’ll be quiet now.”
“Okay,” he replies. “Thank you. I’ll be quick.”
You take a loud, dramatic sip of your drink just as Martin presses record. He pauses it again before turning to you, and this time, frustration is evident on his features.
Guilt washes over you, and you realise that honestly, you didn’t really want Martin to get so mad at you to the point where he ended things. He looks tired, and you know it’s probably from a mix of hectic promotions, working on music and dealing with your incredibly annoying ass.
Martin was too sweet for his own good, and you’re suddenly re-evaluating every little thing. You didn’t like seeing him upset, and you certainly didn’t want him to be upset at you.
You look at him sheepishly. “Sorry.” you wince, and Martin shakes his head, waving it off.
“It’s okay.” he sighs, but exasperation is evident in his tone. He huffs, pressing the record button again.
This time, you don’t interrupt – and now you know why everyone in the industry calls him a musical genius. Martin’s working like a seasoned professional, putting in clips of his voice here and there. He presses play on the section that he was just working on, nodding in silent approval when he’s satisfied.
You realise that you don’t want to drive him incredibly insane to the point where he can’t bear to see your face anymore. The article wasn’t going to write itself, but writing it meant that you had to hurt Martin. And looking at him now, and thinking about all of the times he had put up with you, you really didn’t want to hurt him. But you needed a way out.
The guilt is eating you alive as you sit there, making sure to quietly sip your drink. You think about every single moment you’ve shared with him for the last week, the flirting, the affection, the laughter – you don’t really want to let that go either. What were you going to do? This wasn’t supposed to be that complicated. You didn’t intend to actually catch feelings—
Oh.
Shit.
You might have feelings for him.
Everything clicks into place right then and there. You like Martin Edwards. You make sure to say those words in your head so you don’t interrupt him, but those words settle in your chest like they actually belong there.
Fuck. You did the one thing Bailey told you not to do.
“Hey,” he says softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look up at him, and Martin doesn’t know why you’re looking at him a little differently. Your gaze is soft, warm, and filled with what Martin thinks – and he doesn’t realise, but hopes – might be love. He doesn’t think he’s seen this look in your eye before. “I’m done.”
“Okay,” you say. Your voice is quieter than it’s ever been before. Martin’s slightly startled at the change. “Tin, I’m sorry.”
Martin furrows his brows. “What for?”
Everything, you want to say. “Interrupting you when you were working,” is what you say instead. Martin shakes his head, pulling you close in a hug.
“It’s okay,” he replies. He presses a kiss to your cheek to comfort you, and you hate how much it works. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”
You smile, albeit a little stiffly. “Movie?” you ask, pretending that everything is fine. Martin nods, gesturing to the couch situated at the back of the studio.
You sit down on the couch, and Martin plops right down next to you, giving you a bright smile as he places his laptop on his lap. “What’d you wanna watch?” he asks, and you shrug, resting your cheek on his shoulder.
“You pick,” you reply, and Martin nods. You lace your fingers with his, and he randomly clicks on a movie that he thinks Keonho had offhandedly mentioned was good before. He presses play before glancing at you to make sure you’re okay.
Martin squeezes your hand a little tighter, just to let you know that he’s here. You hate that he’s far too good to you.
You gulp, trying to ignore how the guilt is eating you alive.
Then, you take a deep breath before pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder, slipping into the role that you think you’ve gotten too good at playing.
You have to end it with Martin.
It’s what you realise is best for the both of you. You get your article, and he gets to rid himself of an annoying, overbearing girlfriend. You head into work with a little less enthusiasm, and Yoonchae can immediately tell.
“What’s wrong?” Yoonchae asks, as you let out another loud sigh. Martin’s face is everywhere on your Instagram, and you hate that your lips instinctively tug into a smile at the sight of him. You were in love, damn it.
“Nothing,” you reply. “The article’s just… a little harder than I thought.” You weren’t necessarily lying. Every word you typed out felt wrong. The bitter taste of guilt in the back of your mouth reminds you that you were technically a horrible person for inflicting psychological warfare on Martin Edwards, who couldn’t possibly hurt a fly.
“Oh?” Yoonchae asks, surprised. “I thought it was going well with Martin.”
“It is,” you mutter under your breath. “A little too well. He won’t end it with me. So I think I’m going to have to do it.”
Bailey quirks a brow. “Oh, really? How are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know,” you reply. “Maybe come up with some lame excuse saying that he doesn’t have time for us anymore, and it’s breaking my heart.” Bailey nods, giving you a look that indicates that it’s not that bad of an idea.
You knew that Martin’s schedule was packed today – he had two variety shows to film and then Music Bank later. If anything, today was the perfect day to spam him and then complain about how you got no response. Then, you could use that as an excuse to break up.
It was better to get it done early on before you both got too invested. Your heart does, however, twist at the thought of letting go. But it was for the better, you remind yourself. And you had an article to write.
So, after one whole day of no responses from Martin like you’d planned, you find yourself standing outside the CORTIS dorm, rehearsing your words. You take a deep breath, telling yourself that you could do this. You could play the clingy, overbearing girlfriend role to perfection – this was the last time that you had to, hopefully.
You knock, and you hear Martin’s voice. You fail to stop the smile spreading across your lips.
When he opens the door, he instantly beams when he sees you. “Hi, baby!” He moves to wrap his arms around you in a hug, and for a split second, you nearly let him – until you remember that you’re going to break up with him.
“I can’t believe you,” You slip into your role, sniffling to show how heartbroken you were. “I sent you messages all day and you didn’t reply to me! It’s like I don’t matter to you anymore.”
Martin steps back in horror. Shit. Did he mess up? Well, not really, he thinks. He was far too busy – he barely had time to even check his phone all day, but seeing you heartbroken in front of his doorstep makes his stomach twist.
“No, no,” he says, reaching out to pull you into a hug in an attempt to comfort you, and you push him away. “Baby, I’m so sorry – I was really busy all day, and I didn’t have time to check my phone. The guys and I just got home, and I was going to text you, believe me!”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you say. Your words are absolutely ridiculous, and you know it. “I think we need to break up.”
Saying those words makes your heart sink. You hated it. You didn’t want to let Martin Edwards go.
Martin’s heart drops. The rest of the members can hear everything, and all of their eyes widen. Martin had not a single clue of what to do. He didn’t reply for one day and you wanted to break up? This was ridiculous – he turns to Juhoon, who’s shaking his head as if to say: don’t ask me!
He then looks at Keonho, who’s reminding him: 10 shows.
10 shows. He’s got a week left until he hits 10 shows. Shit. If you ended it with him right now, he would lose the bet.
Asides from that, Martin found that he genuinely did care for you. He didn’t want you to hate him over his schedule being far too packed. He had to find a way to reason with you so you’d stay – not just for the bet, he tells himself.
Seonghyeon’s watching this as if it’s the best episode of television he’s seen in his life. Martin Edwards, begging for his overdramatic, overly clingy girlfriend to stay with him. This was gold.
What did couples do when their relationship was in trouble? Martin racks his brain for ideas.
He’d apologised already. What about gifts? He could get you those. Couples counselling?
“What?” you pipe up. It’s only then when Martin realises that he’s said ‘couples counselling’ out loud. His eyes widen with panic, before he pretends like that’s what he intended all along.
“Yes!” he says. “Let’s do couples counselling. Please, let’s fix this, baby.” Desperation is evident in his tone, and you’re so shocked at his proposal to the point where you don’t quite know what to say.
“I…” you stammer out. You look at Martin, and you realise that you really can’t say no to him. Fuck, you think.
You’d have to find a fucking couples counsellor. Or someone who could pretend to be one. Maybe you could just get Yoonchae or Bailey to say that the two of you weren’t meant to be, and then that could be your excuse to end it.
Yes, that would work, you think.
“Okay,” you sigh, reluctantly. You suppose that you were in this predicament for a little longer. "I'm picking the therapist."
Martin lets out a loud exhale in relief. He's unbelievably happy that you've decided to give your relationship another chance, despite all this being a bet. A little voice in the back of his mind tells him that he seems to care more about you than the bet now. Even if you did, at times, drive him a little crazy.
He pulls you closer to him in a hug, and this time, you let him.
The smell of blackberries and cedar envelopes you in a comforting embrace, and you allow yourself to melt in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and it’s all just too genuine – you feel awful.
Your heart twists with guilt at how genuine he sounds in his apology.
He holds you a little closer, and all you know is that you don’t deserve Martin Edwards at all.
One day later, you find yourself in Bailey’s apartment – or rather, Dr. Sok’s apartment. You didn’t even have to beg or bribe Bailey to pretend to be a fake therapist for you and Martin – she had said yes immediately, and with a little too much enthusiasm. Bailey wanted to witness whatever the hell you two had going on firsthand.
“It’s going to be good,” she says, tapping her fingers together mischievously. She’s talking about it as if your couples’ counselling appointment is going to be the best movie she’s seen in years.
Martin’s sitting beside you as he taps his foot nervously on the floor. This was insane. He feels a little too out of place here. Why did he agree to couple’s counselling for a relationship that had only just reached the two week mark?
Despite Bailey’s living room looking very much not like a therapists’ office, she comes up with some lame excuse saying that her actual office (which doesn’t exist) is going under some construction. She peers at the two of you through her blue light glasses, leaning forward as she holds a clipboard in your hands.
“So, (Name), Martin. Tell me what’s going wrong in your relationship,” Bailey says. You take a deep breath before slipping back into the role of annoying, overbearing girlfriend.
“He doesn’t have time for us and this relationship!” you huff, crossing your arms. Martin gives you a pained look, sighing. “He’s not taking us seriously anymore.” You sniffle a little for good measure to really sell the fact that you’re heartbroken.
“I… I have a lot to do, baby – you know this,” he pleads “I’m trying my best to make as much time for you as I can, I’m sorry.” You watch as Bailey writes something down on her clipboard. She’s never met Martin before, but she could immediately tell that he harboured a lot of affection for you.
She’s starting to realise that maybe you were right in thinking that Martin was a lunatic – she’d heard about all the antics you’ve pulled, and yet, Martin was still grovelling and wanted you to stay?
“It’s like you care more about being an idol than me,” you say – as the words leave your mouth, you realise how unreasonable it was. Perfect. You needed Martin to dump your ass. The longer you stayed in this ‘relationship’, the harder you knew you were going to fall. You were already in deep, and you needed to get out before this article left you completely heartbroken.
“I…” Martin’s at a complete loss for words. “I can balance my work and our relationship, baby. Please.”
Bailey hums, tapping her pencil on the side of her clipboard as an idea pops up in her brain. You watch as her eyes light up in that way you’ve seen before – you just know this is going to be bad. You’re praying to God that you’re wrong.
“I know,” she says, leaning forward with a glint in your eye. “I think you two need an opportunity to spend a little bit more time together, away from all the idol life. Maybe then, you’ll see your relationship with clearer eyes.”
Your eyes widen in horror. Oh no.
Martin leans forward, suddenly curious. Double oh no.
“What may that be?” he asks – he’s genuinely invested in keeping this relationship, Bailey thinks. It was more clear than ever to her that Martin genuinely liked you, despite how you acted insane.
“When’s the next time you have a day off?” Bailey asks.
“Tuesday. I’m heading back to my parents’ house to spend some time with them before we head off to New York,” Martin says. “Oh!” he looks at you, eyes gleaming with delight. Your heart sinks. Whatever idea Martin had, you knew it was going to be bad for you.
“You can come with me,” he beams. “Right? Is that a good idea, Dr. Sok?”
Bailey is surprisingly shocked at Martin’s willingness to introduce you to his family only two weeks into your relationship. But she had to admit, it was a brilliant idea. She plasters a smile on her face to hide her shock, and nods in satisfaction.
“It’s brilliant, Martin,” Bailey grins. She turns towards you, who’s got a look of horror on your face. “(Name), you should go meet Martin’s parents. After all, you said he wasn’t taking this relationship seriously. What couldn’t be more serious than meeting the parents?”
You fail to come up with a coherent response. Fuck, you think. You should’ve asked Yoonchae to be the fake therapist.
Martin’s looking at you expectantly, and you can tell just based on his gaze alone that he wants you to come. Your gaze softens, and you realise that you’re in way too deep. You’re in love. Shit.
“Fine,” you huff. “Let’s do it.”
Martin beams, so bright that it could rival the sun. The corner of your lips pull upward into a smile at the sight, and he laces his hands with yours. You hate how it feels right.
“Perfect.” he says.
To you, this was anything but.
Tuesday rolls around much faster than you thought.
You put much more effort into your outfit to meet Martin's parents. You’ve practically been living in Martin’s clothes for the past few weeks, and as much as you knew that he liked it, you still had to make a good impression on his parents. Showing up in Martin’s oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats wasn’t going to cut it.
You opt for something simple, a little more similar to what you wore at the comeback showcase. You arrive at the CORTIS dorm wearing a striped shirt and a pair of jeans. Seonghyeon greets you at the door, and the boy points at what you’re wearing, and then what he’s wearing.
“Oh,” he says. “Why are we matching?”
You let out a little laugh. “Don’t bring it up,” you reply. “Tin wouldn’t like it.”
If Martin notices that you’re somehow dressed like Seonghyeon, he doesn’t make any mention of it. He holds your hand as the company car drives the two of you to his parents’ place, and the two of you share earphones, listening to Martin’s music.
You gulp. This was not what you had planned when you first decided that you were going to write the article. You didn’t think that you’d have to go this far – you had already accidentally fallen in love with the subject of your article, and now you were meeting his parents. This was… simply great.
When the two of you arrive, it’s like Martin can sense your nerves. He looks at you, his gaze soft and gentle like usual. “Don’t worry,” he beams. “They’re going to love you.”
You don’t know if you love or hate the idea of Martin’s family loving you. On one hand, it was nice to get his parents’ approval – on the other, this relationship was practically completely fake. Or at least it started that way, until your real feelings got involved.
Martin’s mother answers the door, and when she spots you, she pulls you in for a hug. You’re slightly stunned at how affectionate she is, but it’s awfully kind of her, and you return the gesture nevertheless. “You must be (Name),” she beams. “Martin’s been going on and on about you.”
“You have?” you ask, turning to Martin. His cheeks heat up and he shrugs, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Martin’s father greets you once you’re inside, sitting down at the living room table. He’s easy to talk to, much like Martin. He jokes around with you right off the bat, and your stomach twists with guilt. Your presence feels a little too foreign, as if you don’t belong – because truly, you don’t.
Here you were, sitting at the Edwards’ dining room table as if you were exactly who Martin said you were. His loving girlfriend who cared about him more than anything in the world.
The truth? All you were was a music journalist who was writing an article on how to lose an idol in 10 shows, and their son was the target. It was simply awful, and here you were, basking in the Edwards’ family’s praises like you deserved them. Like you deserved their son.
You didn’t. Martin Edwards was far too good to you, and for you.
You listen as his mother tells you stories about Martin’s childhood, such as how he composed a piece of music at the ripe age of 10 about the Spider-Man movie that he’d watched. His sister teases him lovingly, telling him that he shouldn’t have hid you for this long – she doesn’t seem to know that you two have only been ‘dating’ for two weeks. They treat you like family. You realise how much you adore all of them.
It makes the guilt that’s been simmering in your stomach much, much worse.
When Martin tells the story of how you two met at the comeback showcase, his sister’s eyes widen. “Wait, I thought you guys have been dating for two months!”
“Nope,” you chuckle nervously. His sister only hums, nodding. That reaction strikes genuine fear in your heart. Is she okay with it? Does she hate you? Martin seems to notice how anxious you are, and he gently caresses your hand with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you.
Martin beams as his family gushes over the new album, and you sit next to him, your fingers laced with his. You look at him, pride evident on your face as he talks about the songs, and Martin’s father realises that it’s only then when you relax your shoulders.
When Martin’s whisked away by his mother and sister, his father approaches you.
“(Name),” he says, pouring you a glass of water. “Thank you for being so kind to Martin. And being there for him.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. Martin’s father looks at you, handing you the glass. “It’s not an easy life for him to be an idol, especially since he’s so young,” he hums. “I’m glad he has someone like you to… you know. Keep him grounded amidst all the chaos.”
Oh god. The guilt. You want to throw up. His dad was extending so much kindness to you because he genuinely believed that you loved his son.
And you did, but you had started everything with ulterior motives. Did it even matter now that you truly had feelings, when you’d approached Martin with zero intention of anything genuine?
But you plaster on a smile, something that you’ve gotten a little too good at doing. “Of course,” you say. You look out the window, seeing Martin and his sister laughing about something. Martin’s father recognises this look in your eye – one of genuine affection for his son – and he too, smiles. “I’m glad that I can… be that for him.”
“And really, he is… absolutely amazing,” you say. “I don’t think I deserve him.” It’s the most truthful thing you think you’ve said all day.
The smile on his father’s lips grows a little wider. “For what it’s worth, I think you two are perfect for each other. Even if this is all a little recent.”
Perfect. Those words should make you feel relieved. But now that you have his father’s stamp of approval, it makes ending things much more difficult. How were you supposed to do that now?
It’s then when it hits you. You couldn’t write the article anymore. You had to tell Jisoo that you couldn’t. Because you’ve fallen for Martin Edwards. Hard.
Martin returns, seeing you and his father speaking to one another. He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You lean into his touch, even as the guilt from the past two weeks piles up and threatens to crush you like a boulder.
“Pops, what’d you say to her?” he asks, hoping that his father hasn’t embarrassed him in front of you.
“Oh, nothing bad, Martin. Don’t worry,” he laughs. “Do show her around the house, though. I’m sure she’d love to see your room.”
His father gives you a nod before going outside to find Martin’s mother and sister. Martin looks at you, and you’re standing there silently. “You okay?” he asks, and you nod, coming to your senses.
“Of course,” you say. He smiles at the nickname before lacing your hand with his. He does it so casually now to the point where you’re not fazed by it at all. “So… are you going to show me your room?”
He nods, leading you down the corridor. It’s the first room on the right.
“Tada,” he says, flicking on the light switch. Your eyes immediately dart to the plane drawn on the wall, and Martin notices.
“My dad painted that for me when I was little,” he says, and your eyes flick back to look at him.
“He’s really good at painting,” you say, and Martin beams. Your eyes wander across the entire room, and the next object your eyes land on is a little Spider-Man figurine sitting on top of a cupboard. “You really did like Spider-Man, didn’t you?”
Martin chuckles, walking over to pick it up. “I did,” he hums. He hands it over to you, before grabbing something else perched on top of the same cupboard. “I was a big Marvel fan. Case in point – Thanos’ gauntlet.”
He tries to put it on, but it’s clearly too small for him now, and you laugh. “You try it,” he says, handing it over to you.
You put it on, and it fits. “If I snap my fingers, would we all turn to dust?”
Martin bursts into a fit of laughter – were you really that funny? But the sound of his laughter is infectious, and for a second you allow yourself to forget about that daunting thought of feeling like an intruder in your boyfriend’s own home.
You take off the gauntlet, handing it back to him so he can place it back in its original spot. He flops down on his bed, patting the empty space next to him. “Come,” he says. “My bed here is comfy. Much better than the dorm one, to be honest.”
You lay down beside him, and to be fair, he was right. The mattress was slightly softer. Martin tugs at the corner of your shirt to get you to move slightly closer to him.
“Your room is cozy,” you say as he wraps his arms around you. You turn to look at him, and he’s looking at you with so much sincerity and love. That feeling of guilt creeps up once again.
“I know,” he hums. “Listen… I’m happy that you decided to come meet my family. I’m sorry about that day, by the way. I should’ve probably told you that I was going to be busy.”
You shake your head. You knew how unreasonable you were being. “It’s okay,” you say. Looking into his eyes, everything feels far too real – and instinctively, like you’ve done a million times before, you brush his hair out of his eyes. “Sorry for causing a scene. I was being overdramatic. Like usual.”
Martin chuckles, his laugh light and airy. “Don’t worry.”
Over the two weeks, Martin has found that he does care for you. Perhaps a little too much for something that was just a bet. But with you here in his home, things just felt right. His father seemed to love you, and outside in the garden, his mother and sister had both said that you were amazing.
Martin doesn’t know what to do – was he supposed to tell you about the bet? You’d surely break up with him for good once you found out.
But he looks at you, and he just can’t help but think about how pretty you are. Truthfully, his heart did skip a beat when he first saw you at their comeback showcase, and despite your overdramatic antics, Martin did… want you to stay. That realisation settles in his chest, and he doesn’t know if he should be happy about it.
He’s not in love with you, is he?
You look at Martin. Silence falls between the two of you, and it’s comforting, really. You look at him like he’s the most beautiful person in the world, and your breath hitches in your throat. He’s too pretty. Too kind. Too good for you.
You don’t know when your eyes flick to his lips, but you realise that over the last two weeks, you two haven’t actually kissed. He’s kissed your cheek far too many times, you’ve done the same, but you’ve never actually pressed your lips to his.
And the scary thing was, that you really, really wanted to.
You lean in a little closer, inching his face closer to his. Martin suddenly seems to notice the proximity between you two, and he too, realises that he hasn’t actually kissed you on the lips before. For someone who his sister claimed to be ‘so in love’, he hadn’t even kissed his own girlfriend.
He wants to kiss you. Really, really badly.
You’re the one who leans in first, pressing your lips to his. It’s hesitant and slow, and Martin’s a little shocked at your tentativeness. For someone who was so dramatic, over the top and boisterous – this was a little out of character.
Martin can hear his own pulse thundering in his ears as he kisses you back – slow, gentle, like he means it. Yes, this was exactly what he had been missing this entire time. Everything feels right, and Martin completely forgets about the bet. At this moment, all of it was real.
His hand moves up to gently cup your cheek as the other finds your waist, and you kiss him a little harder, a little more insistent. As Martin melts into the kiss, he’s also simultaneously praying to God that he’s closed his bedroom door. The last thing he really wanted was his parents or sister catching him making out with his girlfriend – he'd never hear the end of it.
But when your hands find his shirt to pull him impossibly closer, that thought leaves his mind completely as he allows you to kiss him senseless. It’s fine if the door’s open, he thinks. All he cares about is you, and how your lips feel on his. He’s drunk on the feeling, almost – he doesn’t think that he can go a day without kissing you now.
When you pull away for air, you’re beaming at him like an idiot in love. Because truthfully, that’s what you were. The guilt that’s been eating at you is completely forgotten, and all you really want to do is kiss him again.
“You kissed me,” Martin says, a little breathless and a little astonished that this was all real. You had kissed him. And he felt something. Something real, something genuine – something that told him that it wasn’t a bet anymore, at least not to him.
Martin Edwards might really be in love with you.
It was horrifying and exhilarating at the same time. On one hand, Martin was thinking about what would happen if – god forbid – you found out that you were a bet. On the other, Martin just wanted to kiss you over, and over, and over again.
“Is it that hard to believe?” your voice cuts through his thoughts, your breath hot against his lips. Your eyes flick down to his lips once again, stained with your lipstick. Martin doesn’t – and won’t – wipe it off. “I think you better get used to it, Edwards.”
And when Martin Edwards leans in again to press his lips against yours, he allows himself to be irrevocably and truly yours.
You tell Jisoo that you can’t write the article.
She’s disappointed, but simultaneously, not surprised at all. “I thought you might’ve caught feelings for that CORTIS boy,” she hums, tapping her pencil on the desk. You don’t think you’re getting that full-time job now. “It’s okay. I knew it was too good to be true.”
Ouch, you think. That stings.
But you’re honestly on too much of a high after that kiss in Martin’s house. With the weight of the article off your shoulders, you can actually date Martin without feeling completely guilty now. Sure, some of it still remained knowing that you started the relationship with ulterior motives, but it was slightly more of a clean slate than before.
Despite Jisoo's disappointment in you, she still does invite you, Yoonchae, Bailey and Yuna to this music awards show after-party. You immediately text Martin, asking him if he’s going to be there. He responds with a yes, and you beam.
I can’t wait to see you, he tells you. You smile at your phone, giddy and far too much in love.
“I knew this was going to happen!” Bailey exclaims as you two get ready for the after-party in her apartment. “I told you, that Martin boy was so deeply in love – he was practically looking at her with stars in her eyes when we were doing ‘couples counselling.’ Honestly, I’m surprised that you didn’t see it earlier!”
You curl your lashes, coating them with mascara carefully. “I mean, I didn’t expect to actually fall for him.”
“We all saw it coming a mile away, (Name),” Yoonchae laughs. “Come on, at the showcase you were gawking at him like he was your personal Prince Charming. The only thing I’m surprised at was how persistent he was in staying. If I were him, I would’ve broken up with you the second you humiliated me like that in front of all my friends.”
You gasp at Yoonchae’s words, and she simply shrugs, a smile playing on her lips. The rest of the time spent getting ready is filled with chatter about how you and Martin are going to cope with having eyes on you the entire night tonight. He couldn’t hold your hand like he usually did – you now had to hide.
When you arrive at the after-party, you immediately send a text to Martin, asking where he is. You look around the room to search for him, and you see idols, industry professionals and journalists like you conversing with one another.
“Hi,” a voice all too familiar to you makes you turn around, and you see Martin standing there, in all his glory. He’s wearing a crisp, sharp suit – Dior, you assume, considering the brand deal – and he looks absolutely perfect.
Your voice catches in your throat as you’re about to tell him he looks good, but rather a strangled noise escapes past your lips. You suppose you finally know what it’s like to actually be left speechless. You cover your mouth in embarrassment, and Martin simply laughs.
“Hi,” you breathe out, when you’re finally able to speak. “You look really nice.”
“And you do too,” Martin replies, looking at you. You’re wearing this stunning, satin yellow dress. In all honesty, Martin had grown accustomed to seeing you wearing his clothes, and seeing you in something like this made his heart race. A dainty necklace hangs around your neck, and Martin thinks that he might’ve just fallen in love all over again.
“Thank you,” you say. You’re unsure how to actually speak to him knowing that there were always going to be eyes watching his every move. “So… you doing anything after this?” is the only thing you’re able to come up with, and Martin chuckles.
“No, I don’t happen to be,” he replies, fixing the collar of his suit jacket. His voice drops low into a whisper, looking around carefully to make sure that nobody is listening. “Come to the dorm later for a movie date?”
“Of course,” you whisper back. You fail to hide the lovesick grin on your lips, and Martin’s practically fighting the urge to kiss you right now. You look irresistibly good, and Martin hates that every move of his is likely documented right now.
His manager approaches him, and he gives you a nod in acknowledgment. “Martin, we’re going to have to meet some members of the media. Please come with me – I’m sure the two of you will find time to talk later.”
You nod, understanding that duty calls. Martin waves goodbye to you, and you wave back. You didn’t even realise how fast your heart was racing there. You find Bailey, Yoonchae and Yuna near the drinks, and you grab a glass of fruit punch and converse with them about some new album that Yoonchae reviewed recently.
Martin straightens up his suit jacket before he walks up to the rest of the members, who are already talking to someone. “Hi, I’m Martin, the leader of CORTIS. Apologies for being late,” he says politely. “I had to catch up with a friend.” It’s a lie, but he couldn’t call you his girlfriend to everyone here.
“Oh, don’t worry,” the lady says, waving him off. She seems awfully drunk, and she’s already taking another sip of the champagne in her glass. “We were just talking about some of the articles that we’ve been publishing about your group. You boys are some of the most exciting faces on the music scene.”
“Thank you.” Martin beams.
“Her name is Jisoo,” James whispers in Martin’s ear. “I think she’s super drunk. Manager says that the rest of us are going to speak to some guy named John, but Jisoo really wanted to talk to you. So… we’ll leave you guys to it?”
Martin nods in agreement, but he doesn’t really want to speak with her. She’s incredibly drunk, and to be honest, Martin would much rather be talking to you right now.
“Oh, and we’ve got something much more than just about your albums,” Jisoo pipes up. “Well, did. One of my interns – talented girl – was writing a piece about one of you.” Jisoo's so drunk that she thinks that the five of them are still there, when it’s really only Martin who’s left.
She searches around the room, and her eyes land on you. She points in your direction.
“Ah, her. Over there,” Jisoo says. “(Name).”
Martin immediately straightens up at the sound of your name. He leans in to hear Jisoo better, curiosity suddenly piqued. “What article may that be?”
“Oh, it was a little bit more fun. How to lose an idol in 10 shows, or something. Dating an idol, and then trying to get him to dump her in 10 shows or less. I was gonna give her that full-time job, honestly.”
Martin’s heart drops.
An article? You... were writing an article on dating an idol?
It hits Martin right then and there. That’s why you were so adamant on breaking up over something so trivial – he knew that you weren’t that unreasonable.
The next realisation hits Martin like a truck. That’s why you would act so ludicrous and over the top sometimes – he had a feeling that it wasn’t really who you were. The night at the studio, the moments the two of you shared at his parents’ house. That was the real you. But Martin didn’t really care, he told himself he loved you all the same.
But knowing that all of this was just for an article? It sends a knife through his heart.
You kissed him like you actually loved him that day at his parents’ house. He thought you did. Did you love him? Did you even like him?
Jisoo is so drunk she doesn’t even seem to know the state of shock and distress that she’s just put Martin through. His mouth suddenly runs dry, and he doesn’t know what to do – all he knows is that he feels sick at the thought that perhaps none of it was real. His heart aches with betrayal, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this awful before.
His eyes are hot as he tries to blink back tears. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, his voice cracking. “I have to go.”
Jisoo's too drunk to notice as Martin pushes past her, trying desperately to find any corner away from the cameras.
When he finds a place secluded enough, covered by the black satin curtains, Martin finally lets a tear slip past his cheek.
This must be what heartbreak feels like, he thinks.
You’re already starting to get a little bored at this after-party.
You know that Jisoo's practically drunk off her mind, and Bailey’s gone over to make sure that she doesn’t hurl on any of the guests. Yoonchae winces seeing Jisoo stumble on air, and Bailey sighs as she knows that she’s going to be babysitting her all night.
You look at the crowd, trying to count how many idols you can see that aren’t completely drunk off their mind.
“(Name)!” James snaps you out of your little game – you were at roughly 12 idols – and you direct your attention to him. He beams, greeting you with a wide smile.
He’s got a glass of champagne in his hands – after all, he is the only one legally allowed to drink. You can tell that he’s slightly tipsy.
“Hi, James,” you say, smiling at him. “Nice to see you again… after seeing you yesterday night.”
James laughs, a little louder than normal – yeah, the alcohol was definitely kicking in. “That’s funny. Yes, so nice to see you again. I know that our Martin was a bit late speaking to some important people because he was caught up with you,” he says, wagging his finger at you. “It’s okay. No worries.”
“Oh,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” he says, trailing off. There’s a beat of silence that falls between the two of you before James seems to remember something. “Oh! Oh! Don’t tell Martin. Wait, you two are dating for real, for real now. So you must know!”
You look at James, confused. You don’t have a single idea in the world of what he was insinuating at.
“Our Martin can flirt, can’t he?” James says, dragging out the word. “We all thought he couldn’t, so he proved us wrong. Now we all have to pay for his next shopping spree. Bleh. I’m going to be broke.”
Your brows furrow, but there’s a sinking feeling in your stomach – you think you know what James is hinting at, but he’s tipsy, so he’s somewhat circling around the topic.
“James, whatever do you mean?”
“We made a bet!” he says, a little too gleefully. “So like, Seonghyeon was saying that Martin couldn’t flirt, so we made a bet – 10 shows to get a girl to fall in love with him with his flirting skills. And he had to make sure you stayed with him through those 10 shows.”
He doesn’t know that those words had basically caused your personal apocalypse. You were a bet?
You look at James, betrayal evident on your features. Your chest pangs with pain so visceral, you think you might actually double over. You were just a bet to Martin, and the betrayal and pain from that realisation hits you like a tidal wave. Martin being awfully sweet to you, being too kind, being too understanding – that was all a lie?
You feel like you don’t even know him. You stand there, stunned, and at your silence, James somehow seems to sober up.
“Oh, shit – you didn’t know,” James’ face contorts into one of horror, and he brings his hands to his lips. “Oh my god, (Name) – I did not mean a single word of what I said, I am so sorry–!”
You push past James, running for the exit. You feel so violently ill – all you want to do is go back to your house and cry until you’ve got no tears left. You’re going to block Martin, and you never ever want to listen to a CORTIS song ever again.
You push past the gates, but then you’re stopped by a voice that is awfully familiar, but it’s the last person you want to hear from right now.
“Skipping town?” Martin asks. His hands are shoved into his coat pockets. Of course he still looks devastatingly beautiful, and for a second you forget that this is the boy who had made a bet that you’d fall in love with him in 10 shows.
Congratulations, it worked, you think. Maybe he should win a prize for it after you get over your heartbreak.
You turn to look at him, brows furrowed in anger. “What do you want, Martin?”
“What do I want?” he asks, voice laced with disbelief. He steps closer towards you, and you realise that he’s angry too. You don’t know what for. “I want to know why Jisoo told me about an article that you’d pitched called: how to lose an idol in 10 shows. Yes, she was drunk. But you know that drunk words are sober thoughts. I could tell she wasn't lying.”
You’re stunned. Martin notices your expression, and his eyes narrow. “Yeah,” he replies, gritting his teeth. “Sound familiar?”
You gulp, and that guilt that you thought you’d rid yourself of comes back tenfold. But then you remember the bet. You, in similar fashion, grit your teeth and look at Martin with the same betrayal in your eyes.
“Right,” you hum. “And I want to know a little bit more about this bet that James told me about… perhaps something along the lines of you getting a girl to fall in love with him in 10 shows.”
This time, Martin’s the one with the stunned look on his face. His breath stutters, and you cross your arms. “Yeah,” you tell him, using the same words he did mere seconds ago. “Sound familiar?”
“You used me for an article,” Martin exhales. The heartbreak in his tone is evident, and you hate knowing that you’ve hurt him. But he hurt you too.
“I was just a bet to you,” you gulp. Saying it out loud makes it more real. “I meant nothing to you, didn’t I?”
“You can’t be the one saying this to me,” Martin says, pointing at you. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” you retort.
“You wanted to lose an idol in 10 shows?” Martin seethes, trying to ignore how it feels like his heart is quite literally breaking. “Congratulations. You just lost him.”
You gulp, trying to fight the tears that are threatening to spill past your eyes. You take a deep breath, strengthening your resolve – you were a bet to him anyways. It didn’t matter.
“No, I didn’t.” you say. Even those words feel like a lie. You did lose him, and you feel terrible. “Because you can’t lose something you never had.”
With that, you turn on your heel and leave. You only let the tears fall when you know that you’re far away enough, and you reel with the realisation that you’ve probably just lost the first person that you’ve ever truly loved. Because of some stupid job that you weren’t quite sure you wanted anymore.
You leave Martin hanging as he watches your figure disappear. He opens and closes his mouth as if he wants to say something, but you’re already too far gone. It’s fine, Martin tells himself. It was just a bet. You were just a bet. You didn’t mean anything to him.
No, he can’t lie to himself. It hurts much more than the truth.
Martin stands there as the cool evening air tousles his hair. It’s then when he finally allows himself to sob as he crumples to the floor – despite it all, he doesn’t know why he once again, can’t bring himself to hate you.
Martin Edwards lost you, and you lost Martin Edwards.
Maybe after all of it, this was the outcome that you both deserved.
Martin feels absolutely awful.
The members all look at him sympathetically, and they all notice that Martin’s not really his usual self nowadays. Seonghyeon buys him that jacket that he’s wanted for ages. Juhoon breaks his bank account to get Martin three hoodies. Keonho finally buys him those Rick Owens shoes, and he doesn’t complain about it.
James, who feels the worst out of all of them for letting the news slip to you, buys him two pairs of expensive earrings and cashes in on an extra bracelet as if it’ll cure the heartbreak.
"Well... I guess you can flirt," Seonghyeon says. He knows that it's really not helping Martin get over the heartbreak, but he's not quite sure what to say to make him feel better.
Sure, he could flirt. Hooray, Martin thinks. But he didn't really care about that anymore. Not when he just wanted to see you.
His life falls into the routine that he was so accustomed to before you barged into his life. Wake up, practice, make music, perform, repeat. Despite how much his stomach twists in anger at the thought that he was just an article to you, he misses your presence.
In those two short weeks, you’d changed his life in a way that he didn’t think was possible. His eyes always linger a little too long at the dressing room door, hoping you’ll show up. He stocks up on Coke for the mini fridge in the studio just in case you swing by and want a can. He can’t even tell his parents that he’s not speaking to you anymore.
He messed up too. You weren’t the only one. The guilt eats at him every single day, and he’s immediately reminded of it when he wakes up. Martin Edwards, despite it all, still thinks that he loves you. That may be even more ludicrous than your antics.
He hears the doorbell ring, and Martin gets up from his seat at the couch to go answer the door. He’s the designated one to do that now, because he’s always hoping that perhaps you’ll show up.
He swings open the door, and he realises that it’s Yoonchae. He recognises her from the comeback showcase.
“Hi,” she gulps, a little hesitant. “Martin?”
“Yes?” he asks. “How did you find–”
“I’m not a stalker,” she says. Martin figured, considering that she was a friend of yours. “Sorry, I had to get that out of the way. But… I think you might want to read this.” Yoonchae hands Martin a stack of papers, and he furrows his brows, confused as to why.
Yoonchae looks at Martin, and she knows that’s a devastated man if she’s ever seen one. His hair’s messy, he’s got dark circles under his eyes, and there’s just something heavy seeming to be weighing on his conscience.
“Please,” she says. Martin motions for her to come in, and Yoonchae sits down at the dining room table. Martin flicks open the page, and there it is – the dreaded headline. How to Lose an Idol in 10 Shows. Your name is plastered right under it.
Martin doesn’t even want to read it. He feels sick already seeing the title. But curiosity kills the cat, and he reluctantly reads the words printed on the page, letting out a deep sigh.
Step one: Ask the dreaded question – “What are we?” in front of all of his friends.
He remembers that day. He also remembers the instantaneous shock that he felt hearing those words spill past your lips, and how it filled him with a sense of intrigue but also overconfidence that he was going to win this bet.
Step two: Be overly obnoxious – yes, again, in front of all of his friends.
The over the top cheek kisses, the way you’d cling to him like a koala and the loud displays of affection – yep, that tracks, Martin thinks. The crazy thing was that he didn’t mind at all.
Step three: Annoy him with text messages every single minute.
You did that. But Martin wasn’t annoyed, per se. He went through every single message, replying to them with equal enthusiasm. You always had something interesting to talk about – it wasn’t just filler, so Martin didn’t quite mind. And it did bring him some much needed entertainment after busting his ass for a performance.
Step four: Steal all his favourite clothes.
Martin smiles, stupidly. The memory of you wearing his clothes and looking a little too good in them cuts through the anger and bitterness he’s been feeling for the past few days. The mention of those also makes him also remember that you haven’t given any of those clothes back.
Step five: Interrupt him at the studio…
The next few words make Martin’s breath catch in his throat.
Despite my ridiculous antics, Martin Edwards somehow puts up with me and has the patience of a saint. I decide that he’s either a lunatic who loves crazy girls, but my colleague Bailey offers me something else: that he might genuinely like me. It’s when I’m halfway through step five I realise that I’ve fallen in way too deep.
It’s the first time where he actually shows frustration with my insanity, and it’s the first time where I realise that I don’t want to hurt him. Because despite starting this with unfortunately ulterior motives, I think I may have fallen in love in the process.
My goal was to lose an idol in 10 shows. But after getting to know Martin Edwards – the real Martin Edwards – I didn’t want to lose him at all, and yet I have. He’s admirable. Dependable. Too kind for his own good. I don’t even think I deserved him during those two weeks.
These two weeks have been riddled by mistakes. Starting this article, lying about my intentions, pretending that I was someone that I truly wasn’t… but the biggest mistake of all?
Losing the love of my life.
His vision blurs as tears prick his eyes. He was the love of your life? The words hit him like a ton of bricks, and Martin almost forgets how to breathe. The weight of those words settles in his chest, and somehow, the anger dissipates and is replaced with disbelief. He was the love of your life.
The crazy thing is, Martin thinks you may be the love of his life too.
He looks at Yoonchae with a look of determination in his eyes that wasn’t quite there before.
“I… is she at the office?”
“No,” Yoonchae replies. “She quit. I can give you her address, if you need—”
“Please,” he says, desperation evident in his tone. He throws on a random pair of shoes as he practically shoves his phone into Yoonchae’s hand so she can type in your address into his GPS app.
Martin runs out the door, Yoonchae trailing behind him and nearly failing to keep up. Juhoon asks him where the hell he’s going, but Martin doesn’t answer – he has pressing matters to attend to right now. Yoonchae calls a car for the two of them to head to your place, and on the way, she tells him that she really wasn’t supposed to show him the article – but she had to. She knew you were miserable too.
The ride to your place feels like forever, and Yoonchae tells him that she’ll just wait downstairs. He bounds up the staircase – the lift was a waste of time, you lived on the third floor. Yoonchae thinks that he doesn’t even register her words.
Martin double checks the apartment unit that Yoonchae had given him, and he knocks, tapping his foot on the ground nervously.
You fling open your door, and you’re stunned to see Martin there.
He’s almost speechless at the sight of your face – he hadn’t seen you in so long, and Martin has missed you, devastatingly so.
“Martin?” you say in disbelief. You’ve been dreaming about him so much for the past few days to the point where you really wouldn’t be surprised if he was a hallucination. “What are you doing here?”
He holds up the article that Yoonchae had handed him less than an hour ago. You recognise it, and a mixture of guilt, shame and anxiety pangs in your chest – so he’s read it. That sickly feeling that you’ve grown accustomed to for the past week returns tenfold.
“This article,” he breathes out. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“Did you mean it?” he asks. He’s looking at you with desperation, practically pleading for you to say yes.
You blink back the tears in your eyes. A beat of silence falls between you two before you finally speak.
“I meant every word,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.
Martin tries to hold back the smile that’s threatening to creep up on his lips. “Really?” he asks, and you nod.
“Yes,” you say, a little louder this time. “ And I’m sorry about it all – you mean… so much more than an article to me.”
Martin has another question. “And am I really the love of your life?”
“Yes,” you exhale. “You are. I told you, I meant every word.”
Martin finally allows himself to breathe, his shoulders relaxing as he beams, wider than ever before. “Ask me the same question.” he says, grinning. You look at his expression, a little confused but hopeful all the same.
“Am I the love of your life?” you ask, your voice brimming with hope.
“You are.” Martin replies.
“Oh,” you reply softly, and you let a tear slip past your cheek. You’re crying, but they’re happy tears.
Martin reaches out to you, pulling him close to you. His hand finds your waist like it belongs there, and like nothing has changed in the last few days the two of you have been apart.
“I love you,” you choke out. “Unbelievably so. I’m sorry I lost you.”
Martin leans in, inching his face closer to yours as he smiles.
“I love you too,” he replies before he presses his lips to yours, and everything just feels right again. He pulls away for a split second to look into your eyes. “You’re never going to lose me.” he says, giggling before he pulls you in for another kiss.
And now, Martin Edwards is truly, irrevocably yours.
when my hg gets kidnapped in the jjk universe so now i have to crack itadori, fushiguro (all of them), gojo, sukuna, nanami, inumaki, fushiguro (again im so serious), okkotsu, gojo again, mahito, geto, CHOSO, todo, itadori and also fushiguro again but at the same time, the entire zenin clan, gojo again just because, both itadori and sukuna as they switch back and forth,
I love summer because I get to be in my room all day and go out with friends maybe once but I especially love it because I can stay up reading fics here🥹
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