I love trying to explain ateez to people. Yeah ok so the rapline is mostly two guys. This is Mingi. The members call him princess and he likes to make the fans bark at him during concerts. You get used to the casual petplay. We also have Hongjoong, who’s the leader. He’s three apples tall and he wants to stick it to the man and he’s going to be a fashion designer when he grows up. Because there’s only two of them, sometimes they borrow Seonghwa from the vocal line. Yeah, we call him Mother.
You were supposed to tell him that night. You had practiced it a hundred times in your head, soft and careful and full of hope. But he didn’t even let you speak.
One fight. One sentence. One moment where everything broke. And just like that, you left.
Five years later, you come back with a life he knows nothing about. A daughter he has never met and a past that was never really over.
Pairing: Choi San x Reader (Y/N)
Tropes: idol au, secret child, second chance (but painful), lovers to strangers to…?, miscommunication (heavy), unresolved feelings, accidental reunion, angst with eventual healing
Genre: angst (primary), romance, drama, slice of life
Featuring: ATEEZ, Heewa (as mini San 🥲), original side character
Main Masterlist | Sans Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is Part 2
He should have been paying attention.
That was the first thing San realized, though it didn’t stop his thoughts from drifting anyway.
The conference room at the company building was quiet in a controlled, professional way. Not silent, but contained. Papers shifting. Chairs adjusting. Low voices moving in and out of conversation like background noise.
Across from him, a representative from the brand was explaining something about product positioning. Something about image. Something about how they wanted to be perceived.
San nodded at the right moments.
Or at least, he thought he did.
Beside him Hongjoong was speaking. His tone calm and focused as he asked a question about the campaign direction. Always composed. Always present.
San envied that sometimes.
The ability to stay grounded.
To keep his mind exactly where it needed to be.
Because his wasn’t.
Not today.
Not when…“…and we believe your group’s image aligns well with that,” the representative finished.
Hongjoong nodded slightly. “That makes sense.”
San leaned back in his chair just a little, letting his gaze drift for a second.
Beauty brand.
He didn’t even know why that was enough.
Why something that simple had been enough to pull his thoughts somewhere else entirely.
But it had.
Because the moment they mentioned the name, he thought of her. Y/N.
It wasn’t even intentional.
It never was.
It just… happened.
Like muscle memory. Like something ingrained too deeply to ignore.
She used to love this brand.
That was the first thing that came to mind.
Not the fights.
Not the way things ended.
Just something small. Simple.
The way she used to line up her skincare on the bathroom counter, always in the same order. The way she would complain when she ran out of one product and couldn’t replace it immediately. The way she would try to get him to use it too, insisting it would “fix his skin” even when he didn’t care.
A faint smile almost tugged at his lips.
Then it disappeared just as quickly.
Because the next thought came right after.
What happened to her?
Five years.
It had been five years.
And he still didn’t have an answer.
Not a real one. Not one that made sense.
He shifted slightly in his seat, jaw tightening just a little.
Because no matter how many times he tried to move past it, the same questions always came back.
Why did she leave like that?
Why didn’t she say anything?
Why didn’t she even give him the chance to…
He stopped that thought.
Because it never went anywhere good.
Across the table, someone was still talking.
Something about timelines now.
San barely registered it.
His mind had already gone somewhere else.
Back to that night.
It always went back to that night.
The way everything shifted in a matter of minutes.
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair.
He had said something he shouldn’t have.
He knew that.
He had known it almost immediately after the words left his mouth.
Maybe we should just break up.
It hadn’t even sounded real at the time.
Just something thrown into the air out of frustration.
Something he didn’t actually mean.
Something he thought they would fight through, like everything else.
Because they always did.
They always came back to each other.
Until they didn’t.
His fingers curled slightly against the armrest.
Because what stayed with him wasn’t even the argument.
It was what came after.
The silence.
The way she went quiet.
Not the usual kind.
Not the kind that meant she was still there, still feeling, still fighting.
This had been different.
And he hadn’t understood it at the time.
Hadn’t realized what it meant until it was already too late.
“She’ll calm down,” he had told himself that night.
“She just needs space.”
That was what he believed.
That was what made sense.
Because she had left before.
Stormed out. Needed time. Needed distance.
But she always came back.
Always.
Until she didn’t.
San’s jaw tightened.
Because the memory shifted.
From that night, to the next day.
The apartment too quiet. Too empty.
Her things gone.
At first, he thought it was temporary.
It had to be.
She wouldn’t just leave like that.
Not without saying something.
Not without explaining.
He had called her.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
No answer.
He had texted.
Simple at first.
Where are you?
Can we talk?
Y/N, please.
Then less simple.
Longer messages.
Frustration slipping in.
Confusion.
What is this?
You can’t just disappear like this.
At least tell me what’s going on.
Still nothing.
The silence stretched.
Days.
Weeks.
And then blocked.
Just like that.
No explanation.
No closure.
Nothing.
San swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table in front of him.
That had been the worst part.
Not the fight.
Not even the breakup.
It was the way she just… erased him.
Like he didn’t deserve to know.
Like everything they had built over five years meant nothing in the end.
A flicker of irritation stirred in his chest.
Because no matter how much time passed, that part never fully went away.
The part of him that was still frustrated.
Still angry.
Because she didn’t even try.
Didn’t reach out.
Didn’t give him anything to hold onto.
Just… left.
Even now, he didn’t know why.
“What are you thinking about?”
The voice pulled him back.
San blinked, looking up.
Mingi was watching him, one brow slightly raised. “You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m listening,” San replied automatically.
Mingi didn’t look convinced.
Neither did the others.
Beside him, Wooyoung leaned forward slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“No, you’re not.”
San shot him a look. “I am.”
“You’ve been staring at the same spot for the last five minutes.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not listening.”
“It kind of does.”
San exhaled quietly, leaning back again. “I’m fine.”
A pause.
“…Does this have something to do with her?”
The question came from Park Seonghwa this time, his tone calm, but knowing.
San stiffened slightly. “No.”
It came too quickly.
And everyone in the room knew it.
Wooyoung let out a quiet laugh. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
San frowned. “Can you drop it?”
“Not when it’s this obvious.”
“It’s not obvious.”
“It is,” Mingi added, leaning forward slightly now. “It’s always the same. You hear something that reminds you of her and suddenly you’re gone.”
San didn’t respond immediately.
Because they weren’t wrong.
That was the problem.
They were never wrong when it came to this.
“It’s been five years,” Jongho said quietly.
San’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
“Then why does it still—”
“It doesn’t,” San cut him off.
Another lie.
Another one they didn’t believe.
Hongjoong finally spoke again, his voice steady.
“You never got closure.”
San’s gaze flickered to him. “That’s not—”
“You didn’t,” Hongjoong repeated calmly. “She left. You never got an explanation. That kind of thing doesn’t just disappear.”
Silence.
Because there wasn’t really anything to argue with there.
San looked away.
Running a hand over his face.
“I’m fine,” he said again, quieter this time.
Wooyoung huffed softly. “You’ve been saying that for five years.”
“And I’ve been fine for five years.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
San didn’t answer.
Because again, they weren’t wrong.
And that was the part he hated the most.
The meeting room was already set up when they entered, in the marketing company.
Everything about it felt more… polished.
More structured.
San followed the others inside, his expression neutral again, the earlier conversation pushed to the back of his mind.
Or at least he tried.
He took his seat.
Adjusted slightly.
Let his gaze move over the room out of habit more than interest.
The door opened.
He didn’t think anything of it at first.
Just another person entering.
Another part of the team.
His attention shifted automatically and then stopped.
Because it was her.
Y/N.
For a second, his mind went blank.
Like it refused to process what he was seeing.
Because that didn’t make sense.
Not here.
Not now.
“Y/N?”
Her name left his mouth before he could stop it.
Before he could think.
Before he could remember where he was.
The room went quiet.
He didn’t notice.
Couldn’t.
Because she was standing there.
Right there.
Real.
Not a memory.
Not something his mind had pulled out of nowhere.
Actually there.
And she looked different.
But the same.
She had always been beautiful.
He knew that.
He had known it better than anyone.
But this was something else.
Something quieter.
More composed.
More… distant.
Her expression didn’t change much.
Didn’t show shock the way his did.
Didn’t show anything at all, really.
Just calm.
Like this wasn’t anything unusual.
Like he wasn’t sitting right in front of her after five years of silence.
“What are you doing here?”
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Too direct.
Too personal.
Too much.
And still she didn’t react the way he expected.
She moved.
Stepped further into the room.
Set her things down.
“I work here.”
Three words.
Simple. Cold.
And they hit harder than anything else.
San stared at her.
Still trying to catch up.
Still trying to understand how this was even real.
Around him, the others had gone quiet.
Because they recognized her too.
Of course they did.
They had known her almost as long as he had.
Had seen her with him.
Had seen what they were.
And now she was sitting across from them like none of that had ever happened.
Like they were just… strangers.
San’s fingers curled slightly against the table.
Irritation flickered again.
Because she was ignoring it.
All of it.
Like it didn’t matter.
Like he didn’t matter.
Like those five years didn’t exist.
His chest tightened.
Because how could she just…
“Shall we begin?”
Her voice cut through the tension.
Like she was the only one in the room who wasn’t completely thrown off.
San stared at her.
Now she was right in front of him again.
Whether he was ready for it or not.
He didn’t hear a single word.
San sat there, hands loosely folded in front of him, gaze fixed somewhere in the middle of the table, and still… he didn’t register anything that was actually being said.
Because she was there.
Right in front of him.
Not a memory. Not a thought he couldn’t control. Not something that faded when he forced himself to focus.
Existing in the same space as him after five years of nothing.
And it threw everything off.
“…so we were thinking of focusing on a more natural concept—”
Someone was talking.
One of the marketing people.
Maybe her.
He didn’t know.
He couldn’t focus long enough to tell.
Because every time his eyes shifted, even slightly, they found her again.
Y/N.
Sitting across from him like this was normal.
Like they hadn’t shared five years of their lives.
Like she hadn’t disappeared without a word.
Like he hadn’t spent years wondering what the hell happened.
Her posture was straight.
Composed.
Her expression calm, focused on the presentation in front of her.
She spoke when she needed to.
Listened when others spoke.
Took notes.
Nodded.
Everything about her screamed professionalism.
And it irritated him.
More than it should.
Because how could she just sit there like that?
Like none of this mattered?
Like he didn’t matter?
His jaw tightened.
His fingers pressing slightly into the table.
And then a voice beside her.
Kim Jisoo.
San hadn’t paid much attention to him at first.
Just another employee.
Another part of the team.
Until he noticed the way he leaned slightly closer when Y/N spoke.
The way his tone shifted just a little when he addressed her.
Lighter. Almost teasing.
“Good point,” Jisoo said, glancing at her with a small smile. “I think that direction could work really well.”
Y/N nodded. “It would fit the brand’s image.”
“You are a genius,” he added.
She didn’t react much.
Just a small nod.
But San noticed.
Of course he did.
And something in his chest tightened again.
He shifted in his seat slightly, trying to ignore it.
Trying to focus on something else.
Anything else.
But it kept happening.
Small things.
Jisoo handing her a pen before she could reach for one.
Leaning closer to point something out on her notes.
A quiet comment that made her lips curve just slightly.
Enough for it to get under his skin in a way he didn’t understand.
Why did it bother him?
It shouldn’t.
Five years.
She had every right to move on.
To meet someone.
His jaw clenched and looked away.
Forced his attention somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
But his mind didn’t cooperate.
Because every time he tried to focus, the same thoughts came back.
She looks the same.
That wasn’t true.
She didn’t.
She looked… older.
Not in a bad way.
In a way that felt grounded.
Like she had lived through something and come out the other side stronger.
More certain.
More… distant.
That was the part that stayed with him.
The distance.
The way she didn’t look at him unless she had to.
The way she spoke like he was just another client.
Like he was nothing more than a name on a contract.
It didn’t make sense.
None of it did.
Because five years didn’t erase everything.
It couldn’t.
At least it hadn’t for him.
“…San?”
He blinked.
The room came back into focus.
Everyone was looking at him.
Hongjoong.
The staff.
Her.
San straightened slightly, realizing someone had asked him something.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Can you repeat that?”
There was a brief pause.
Then the question came again.
Something about preferences.
Concept direction.
He answered.
Automatically.
Muscle memory taking over where his mind couldn’t.
And then the meeting continued.
Like nothing had happened.
Like everything was normal.
Except it wasn’t.
Not for him.
Not when every second felt like he was sitting in the middle of something unfinished.
Something unresolved.
Something he never got the chance to understand.
By the time the meeting ended, his head felt heavy.
Not physically.
Just… full.
Too many thoughts.
Too many questions.
Too many things he didn’t know what to do with.
Chairs shifted.
Papers were gathered.
People started standing up.
She moved with them.
Something in his chest snapped.
He stood up immediately.
“Y/N.”
Her name came out sharper than he intended.
She paused.
Just for a second.
Then turned to him.
And for a moment he saw it.
Something in her expression.
Not surprise.
Not exactly.
Something softer.
Something that didn’t quite reach the surface.
Then it was gone.
Replaced by that same calm composure.
“Yes?”
That was it.
Just… yes.
His hands curled slightly at his sides.
“You can’t just leave again.”
The words came out before he could soften them.
Before he could think them through.
Her expression shifted.
Something sad flickering through her eyes.
Something that made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.
“I’m not leaving,” she said quietly. “I’m going back to work.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t pretend like you don’t.”
There was a brief silence.
The room had mostly emptied by now.
The others lingering just enough to notice.
To watch.
To understand that something was happening here.
Between them.
San took a step closer.
“You don’t get to do that again,” he said, his voice lower now, but still firm. “You don’t get to just walk away without explaining anything.”
Her gaze held his.
Steady.
And then ahe smiled.
Soft. Sad.
And it caught him off guard completely.
“I can understand why you feel that way,” she said.
That wasn’t what he expected.
Not anger.
Not defensiveness.
Just… understanding.
It threw him off.
“You left,” he said, frustration creeping back in. “You blocked me. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t—”
“I know.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
And when she spoke again, her voice was still calm.
But there was something underneath it now.
Something heavier.
“I left because you never listened to me.”
The words landed quietly.
San frowned slightly.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” she said gently, not raising her voice, not interrupting harshly. Just… stating it.
“For over a year,” she continued, “I tried to talk to you. About how I felt. About how things were changing. And every time… you pushed me away.”
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Because something about the way she said it…
It didn’t feel like an accusation.
It felt like a fact.
“I was always the problem,” she went on. “Always too emotional. Always bringing things up at the wrong time. Always making things harder for you.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I know.”
Again.
That same quiet understanding.
And it made it worse.
Because she wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t blaming him.
She was just… explaining.
“And I couldn’t do it anymore,” she finished softly. “I couldn’t keep trying to be heard when you had already decided I was too much.”
“I didn’t—”
“I had something important to tell you that night.”
The words stopped him completely.
His breath caught.
Something important.
That night.
The pieces didn’t fit.
They never had.
Now it felt like they almost could.
“What?” he asked, the word coming out quieter than he expected.
She shook her head slightly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does to me.”
She looked at him.
And there it was again.
That sadness.
“That’s the thing,” she said softly. “It didn’t, back then.”
That hit harder than anything else.
Because he didn’t have a way to argue with it.
Not when he knew how he had been.
The pressure.
The frustration.
The constant exhaustion.
He had been difficult.
Short-tempered.
Distant.
He knew that.
He just didn’t think it had been enough to drive her away.
“I decided to leave,” she continued, her voice steady again now. “And I want to keep it that way.”
Silence.
San stared at her.
Trying to process.
Trying to understand.
Trying to figure out what he was supposed to say to that.
But nothing came.
Nothing that made sense.
Nothing that felt right.
Because suddenly, everything felt… different.
Not just confusing.
Not just frustrating.
Wrong.
Like he had missed something important.
Something he should have known.
Something that could have changed everything.
Now it was too late.
She gave him one last look.
Then turned away.
The ride back to the dorm was quiet.
Too quiet.
No one spoke at first.
Not even Wooyoung.
Not even Mingi.
And that said a lot.
San sat by the window, his gaze fixed somewhere outside, though he wasn’t really seeing anything.
His mind was still in that room.
Still stuck on her words.
I had something important to tell you that night.
His chest tightened.
Because that didn’t make sense.
Why didn’t she say it then?
Why didn’t she just…
No.
He knew why.
Because he hadn’t listened.
Because he had shut her down before she even had the chance.
Because he had assumed.
Again.
Silence stretched.
“What actually happened?”
Hongjoong’s voice.
San didn’t respond immediately.
“What do you mean?”
“You never told us,” Hongjoong continued. “Not really. Just that you broke up.”
San’s jaw tightened slightly.
“That’s what happened.”
“That’s not all that happened,” Seonghwa added quietly.
San exhaled slowly.
Leaning back slightly.
For a moment, he considered brushing it off.
Saying it didn’t matter.
That it was in the past.
It didn’t feel like the past anymore.
Not after today.
Not after seeing her again.
“Fine,” he muttered.
Silence settled again.
He spoke.
“It wasn’t just one fight,” he said slowly.
His gaze dropped.
Memories surfacing.
Clearer than they had been in a long time.
“We had been arguing for months.”
Not arguing.
Not really.
It had been something else.
Something quieter.
More exhausting.
“She kept saying she felt… alone,” he continued. “That I wasn’t there. That things were changing.”
He let out a quiet breath.
“And I kept telling her I was just busy.”
Because he was.
That had been true.
But it hadn’t been the whole truth.
“I was stressed,” he admitted. “All the time. Everything felt like too much. The pressure, the schedules… I couldn’t deal with anything else on top of that.”
Including her.
He swallowed.
“She would try to talk to me,” he said. “And I would just… shut it down. Because I didn’t have the energy for it.”
The words felt heavier now.
Looking back.
“I thought she would understand,” he added quietly.
Silence.
Because they all knew that wasn’t enough.
“And then that night…” he trailed off.
His hands clenched slightly.
“She was waiting for me when I got home,” he said. “I didn’t even ask why. I just assumed it was another argument.”
Because it always had been.
“I told her I didn’t have the energy for it,” he continued. “Before she even said anything.”
His chest tightened.
“She tried to talk anyway,” he said. “And I… got frustrated.”
Understatement.
“I said things I shouldn’t have.”
Like always.
“And then…”
He hesitated.
“I told her maybe we should just break up.”
“And you didn’t mean it,” Mingi said quietly.
“No,” San admitted. “I didn’t.”
He had never meant it.
Not for a second.
“But she took it seriously.”
Of course she did.
“She went quiet,” he said. “And then she just… agreed.”
That had been the part that threw him off the most.
Not anger.
Not yelling.
Just… acceptance.
“I thought she would calm down,” he added. “That she would come back.”
“I had a ring,” he said. “Hidden. I was just waiting for the right moment.”
A humorless smile tugged at his lips.
“Which never came.”
Because he had been too busy.
Too stressed.
Too caught up in everything else.
“And then she left.”
And that was it.
No proposal.
No closure.
No explanation.
Just…Nothing.
San leaned his head back slightly, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
“And now she’s back,” he muttered.
But everything between them still felt unfinished.
The week didn’t go the way she expected.
That was the simplest way to put it.
After that first meeting, something had shifted in a way she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she tried to act like nothing had happened.
Because it hadn’t just been unexpected.
It had been… destabilizing.
Y/N stood by the window of her apartment that morning, her arms loosely wrapped around herself, staring out at the quiet street below. Seoul was already awake, the city moving at ist usual pace, but for once she felt… out of sync with it.
Her thoughts kept circling back.
To the meeting.
To him.
To the way he had said her name.
To the way everything she had carefully kept separate had suddenly collided without warning.
She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly.
You handled it well.
That was what she told herself.
And it was true.
She had stayed calm. Professional. Distant.
Exactly how she needed to be.
“Mama?”
Her eyes opened immediately.
Heewa stood in the doorway, still in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes slightly as she looked at her.
“You’re awake early,” Y/N said softly, forcing a small smile.
“I had a dream.”
“Oh?” She crouched down slightly. “Was it a good one?”
Heewa nodded. “I dreamed I had a puppy.”
“That does sound like a good dream.”
“It was.”
The little girl stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist without hesitation.
And just like that, the tension in her chest eased.
A little.
Y/N rested her chin lightly on top of Heewa’s head, holding her for a moment longer than usual.
“…Mama?”
“Hmm?”
“You feel weird.”
Y/N stilled.
Just slightly.
“Do I?”
Heewa nodded against her. “A little.”
Y/N swallowed.
Because children noticed everything.
Even the things she tried to hide.
“I’m okay,” she said gently, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Just thinking about work.”
Heewa studied her for a second.
Then…“Okay.”
And just like that, she accepted it.
But she didn’t let go.
If anything, she clung a little tighter.
And Y/N felt it.
That quiet understanding.
That instinctive closeness.
And something in her chest ached.
The following days at work were… different.
Subtle.
But noticeable.
Her colleagues weren’t blind.
Of course they weren’t.
They had seen it.
The tension.
The way San had reacted.
The way she had responded.
The way the air in the room had shifted in a way that had nothing to do with business.
She tried to brush it off.
“We‘re just old acquaintances.”
That was what she said.
Simple.
Neutral.
Nothing more.
And most of them accepted it.
Or at least pretended to.
But the atmosphere had changed.
Just enough that she noticed.
Just enough that she started avoiding the meetings.
Not all of them.
Just… most.
She focused on her work instead.
On things she could control.
On things that didn’t involve sitting across from him and pretending like five years hadn’t happened.
It was easier that way.
Safer.
The call came early.
Too early.
“Mama?”
Heewa’s voice was confused, still half-asleep as Y/N pulled her phone away from her ear.
“The kindergarten is closed today,” Y/N said, trying to keep her tone calm.
“Closed?”
“All the teachers are sick.”
Heewa blinked. “So… no school?”
“No school.”
A pause.
“That’s amazing.”
Y/N let out a quiet breath, pinching the bridge of her nose slightly.
Right.
Amazing for her.
Less amazing for Y/N.
Because she still had work.
And no one to watch her.
She glanced at the clock.
Then at her phone.
She dialed her boss.
The call didn’t last long.
“I can take a sick day,” Y/N offered, already feeling guilty about it. “I’m really sorry for the short notice—”
“Don’t worry about it,” her boss cut in easily. “Actually, you can just bring her.”
Y/N blinked.
“…What?”
“It’s fine,” he continued. “It’s a small office. We’re not that strict. As long as she doesn’t cause trouble.”
Y/N hesitated.
Because that felt unexpected.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Of course. It’s just one day.”
She hesitated for a second longer.
“Okay. Thank you.”
When she hung up, Heewa was already watching her with wide eyes.
“Can I come to your work?”
Y/N sighed softly.
“Yes.”
Heewa’s face lit up immediately.
“Really?”
“Yes. But—”
She crouched down, her expression turning slightly more serious.
“You have to behave, okay?”
“I will!”
“You have to stay quiet when I’m working.”
“I can do that.”
“And no running around.”
“…No running.”
Y/N raised a brow slightly.
“…Okay, maybe a little running.”
“Heewa.”
“Okay, no running.”
Y/N smiled faintly.
“We’ll see.”
The office reacted exactly how she expected.
Which was to say they loved her immediately.
“She’s adorable.”
“That’s your daughter?”
“She looks just like—”
The sentence trailed off.
Because someone caught themselves.
But Y/N noticed.
Of course she did.
Because it wasn’t just her.
It was obvious.
It always had been.
Heewa looked like him.
Not in a subtle way.
Not in a way that could be overlooked.
In a way that made it impossible not to notice.
The same eyes.
The same shape.
The same expressions.
Even the way she smiled.
It was all there.
Y/N forced herself not to think about it too much.
Because she didn’t have the energy for that today.
Instead she focused on work.
On keeping Heewa occupied.
On maintaining the balance she had built.
And for a while it worked.
Heewa sat at an empty desk, happily drawing, occasionally looking up to show Y/N something new.
Her colleagues came by, chatting with her, laughing at her stories, completely charmed.
Even Jisoo.
Especially Jisoo.
“Well, hello,” he said with a grin, crouching slightly beside her desk. “And who are you?”
“I’m Heewa.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“My mama picked it.”
“Then your mama has good taste.”
He glanced up briefly, meeting Y/N’s gaze.
And there it was again.
That subtle warmth.
That easy interest.
It didn’t make her uncomfortable.
It just… was.
“Do you draw a lot?” he asked Heewa.
“Yes!”
“Can you draw me?”
Heewa gasped. “Yes!”
And just like that, she was fully occupied.
Y/N watched them for a moment.
Then shook her head slightly, returning to her work.
For a brief moment, It felt… normal.
Like everything had settled again. Like maybe this really could work. Like she could balance all of it.
Her job. Her daughter.
Her past staying exactly where it belonged.
“Y/N?”
She looked up.
Her boss stood nearby.
“Can you come to the meeting room?”
Her stomach dropped slightly.
“Now?”
“Yes. Just a quick follow-up.”
Her mind immediately jumped to the worst possibility.
No.
ATEEZ wasn’t supposed to come today.
The schedule had been clear.
This was just internal.
Just work.
She nodded slowly.
“Of course.”
Then she glanced at Heewa.
“Can she stay here?”
Her boss hesitated.
“She can come,” Jisoo cut in easily. “It’s fine.”
Y/N looked at him.
Then at her boss. “…Are you sure?”
“It’s okay,” her boss said. “Just this once.”
Y/N hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Alright.”
She crouched down in front of Heewa.
“Okay, listen to me,” she said gently. “This is important.”
Heewa straightened immediately.
Serious.
“I know.”
“You have to be very well-behaved.”
“I will.”
“No talking unless someone talks to you first.”
“Okay.”
“And stay close to me.”
“I will.”
Y/N smiled softly.
“Good.”
She stood.
Took her hand.
And walked toward the meeting room.
The door opened.
And everything stopped.
Her breath.
Her thoughts.
Her sense of control.
Because they were there.
ATEEZ
All of them.
Sitting exactly where they had been the first time.
Like nothing had changed.
Like this was just another meeting.
But it wasn’t.
Not this time.
Not with…“Mama?”
Heewa’s voice was quiet.
Uncertain.
Because she felt it too.
The shift.
The tension.
Y/N tightened her grip on her hand slightly.
“It’s okay,” she murmured.
But it wasn’t.
Not even close.
“Ah,” Jisoo stepped forward slightly, breaking the silence. “We have a small addition today.”
He smiled lightly.
“Our colleague’s daughter is here because her kindergarten is closed.”
Every eye shifted.
Toward them.
Toward her.
Toward Heewa.
And then it happened.
The moment she had feared without even realizing it.
Because the resemblance it was impossible to ignore.
Y/N felt it.
The shift in the room.
The subtle tension.
The way attention sharpened.
San.
He wasn’t looking at her.
Not this time.
His focus was entirely somewhere else.
On her daughter. Their daughter.
Like he couldn’t process what he was seeing.
Like his mind was trying to catch up to something it wasn’t ready for.
“Mama?”
Heewa tugged lightly on her hand.
Y/N crouched down slightly.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
But her heart was beating too fast.
Because she knew.
She knew what he was seeing.
What everyone was seeing.
Before she could say anything else, Heewa stepped forward slightly.
“I’m going to be a big girl,” she announced, her voice small but determined.
Silence.
Soft.
Heavy.
“And I can draw for you,” she added, looking at the group.
In which, during a chaotic variety drinking show, Choi San struggles to mask his deep love for his girlfriend. As the alcohol loosens his restraint, he becomes unusually silent, withdrawn, and distant, barely speaking or interacting with the members. Behind the quiet exterior, every thought is consumed by her — the sound of her voice, the memory of her smile. 𐙚⋆.˚
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ drunk!san x gf!reader
⋮ ⌗ ┆short story. fluff. black cat bf. small gestures of love. mentions of alcohol. random confessions. cute. cute domestic life. soft loving. 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
masterlist ౨ৎ˚₊
The studio lights glowed warm against San’s skin. Cameras were rolling, the table was cluttered with bottles, half-eaten snacks, and laughter. It was supposed to be a casual variety drinking show — the kind where ATEEZ teased each other, shared funny stories, and pretended they could all handle their alcohol.
But San… couldn’t.
He’d started off fine — grinning wide, eyes bright, laughing at Hongjoong’s jokes, clinking his glass with Wooyoung’s. But by his second drink, his shoulders had slumped, and his laugh had grown slower. By his third, he wasn’t really laughing at all.
“San, you okay?” Seonghwa asked, glancing at him mid-conversation.
San’s gaze was distant — on the bottle in his hand, or maybe far beyond it. “Yeah…” he mumbled, voice low. “Just… tired.”
It wasn’t the kind of tired you could fix with sleep.
Cameras caught the smile he forced, but the staff noticed how his usual sparkle dimmed. He was quieter than usual — a rare sight for the group’s affectionate powerhouse. Normally, he’d be the one joking around, clinging to the members, or tossing finger hearts at fans. But tonight, his eyes kept flicking toward his phone sitting on the edge of the table, screen dark and untouched.
When the break came, San stayed seated while the others stretched. A staff member asked if he was okay, and he nodded, polite as always — but his voice cracked just slightly when he said, “Can I make a quick call?”
They hesitated — technically, no phones during breaks — but the look in his eyes softened their answer.
San slipped out into the hallway, the buzz of the set fading behind him. The hallway lights were cold and white. His fingers trembled slightly as he called you.
You answered on the second ring.
“San? It’s late, are you—”
He exhaled shakily, leaning his head against the wall. “Baby…” he whispered. His voice was rough, soft, like he was afraid he might scare you away if he spoke louder.
You immediately recognized the tone. “San, are you drunk?”
A tiny chuckle. “Maybe a little.”
You smiled faintly to yourself, already picturing his flushed cheeks, his slow blinks. “Where are you?”
“Still filming,” he murmured. “But I miss you so much it’s… hard to talk.”
Your heart twisted. He rarely got like this — so quiet, so fragile. “You’re doing well, right? You just have to finish and then you can come home, okay?”
He didn’t answer right away. You heard the rustle of his sleeve as he rubbed at his eyes. “You always sound calm,” he whispered. “Even when I’m not.”
“Because someone has to be.”
That earned a tiny laugh from him — the kind where it breaks halfway through and melts into silence. “You’re too good to me,” he said finally.
“I could say the same,” you replied softly.
There was a pause — and then a breath. “Can you stay on the phone? Just… until they call me back?”
“Of course.”
He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, phone pressed to his ear, forehead resting on his arm. The world felt softer when he heard your voice. You talked about small things — the soup you made for dinner, the weather, a show you were watching — and he listened, really listened, every sound grounding him.
After a few minutes, he whispered, “You make me feel like I’m home even when I’m not there.”
And then, quieter, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. If they post this tomorrow and I look… stupid or something.”
“San,” you said gently, “you’re human. You get tired. You miss people. That’s not embarrassing.”
He hummed, like he wanted to believe you.
The staff eventually called his name — “San! We’re starting again!” — and he sighed, lifting his head.
“I have to go,” he murmured reluctantly.
“I know,” you said. “Finish strong, yeah?”
He smiled faintly, voice low. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When he hung up, he sat there for a second, staring at the blank screen, eyes glassy but peaceful.
Back on set, San was quieter than ever. But there was something different now — a steadiness under the quiet. When the members teased him about being too soft or too sleepy, he only smiled, eyes half-lidded, that soft, love-struck smile that no one could quite read.
Later, in the car on the way home, he leaned against the window, city lights reflecting in his gaze.
Wooyoung nudged him. “You good?”
San nodded slowly. “Yeah. I just… need to see her.”
“Drunk and whipped,” Yeosang muttered under his breath, earning a half-hearted smack from San.
“Maybe,” San said, smiling to himself. “But it’s worth it.”
The apartment was dark when San stepped inside, the faint click of the door echoing behind him. His body felt heavy — not from exhaustion exactly, but from all the quiet he’d carried through the night. The show lights, the laughter, the noise… none of it compared to this: the soft hum of the fridge, the faint warmth of home.
And then he saw you, San was no longer the quiet, composed idol the cameras saw — he was yours again.
You were half-asleep on the couch, blanket around your shoulders, the TV flickering dimly in front of you. At the sound of the door, you stirred — blinking, sitting up — and before you could say anything, San dropped his bag and practically rushed to you.
“Baby,” he breathed, voice raw with relief. His arms wrapped around you in a heartbeat, tight, desperate, like he’d been holding his breath all night.
You laughed softly, muffled against his chest. “You smell like soju,” you teased gently, patting his back.
He hummed, voice low and thick. “Missed you,” he murmured against your hair. Then again, quieter: “Missed you so much.”
He buried his face in your shoulder, arms tightening around your waist. “You’re so warm,” he whined, voice muffled against your shirt. “You feel nice. I was so quiet for so long, I thought I’d explode.”
You smiled into his hair. “You were quiet on the show?”
He nodded, slow and dramatic, pulling back just enough to look at you. His cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed but glowing. “I couldn’t… stop thinking about you. Everyone was loud, and I just—” He paused, the corners of his lips curving into a tired smile. “I just wanted this.”
“You looked so far away on that show,” you whispered, brushing his cheek.
“Just wanted to come home to this.” He responded, babbling the same words. “This?” You asked with confusion.
He nodded again, face nuzzling into your neck. “You. Home. Quiet.”
That made you giggle, and he perked up instantly at the sound — eyes going wide and bright, his childlike side fully out now. “You laughed,” he whispered proudly, like it was an achievement.
“I did,” you said.
“I like when you laugh,” he said seriously, pressing his forehead against yours. “Makes everything feel okay.”
He followed you to the couch without letting go, hands still around your waist, steps clumsy. When you sat, he plopped down right beside you — too close, half in your lap, like a big, sleepy cat refusing to be moved.
You tried to nudge him gently. “San, you’re heavy.”
He gasped softly, mock-offended. “Nooo,” he whined, voice rising slightly, “I’m small and soft! Look!” He squished his own cheeks dramatically, and you couldn’t help but laugh again.
“See? You’re laughing again.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.
“Ridiculously in love,” he said, giggling to himself, then immediately leaned back against you, nuzzling into your chest like a kitten finding its favorite spot.
“Did you eat anything after the show?” you asked softly, fingers combing through his hair.
He shook his head. “Didn’t want to. Food wasn’t you.”
“San,” you said, trying to sound stern, but your voice came out fond instead.
He smiled lazily, eyes half-closing. “You’re so pretty when you scold me.”
“Uh-huh. And you’re impossible.”
“Yup,” he murmured, popping the ‘p’ quietly before sighing contentedly. “Can I stay right here forever?”
“You already live here.”
“Then forever’s starting now.”
He grew quieter after that — but not sad-quiet like before. Just peaceful. Every now and then he’d hum softly, tracing little patterns on your arm or whispering random thoughts like, “Your hair smells like my pillow,” or “I dreamed about you last week — you were laughing at me for spilling juice.”
His voice grew smaller with every sentence until it turned into little hums and sleepy sounds.
By the time you looked down, his lashes had already fluttered shut, his mouth parted slightly, still curled in a faint pout.
He mumbled something in his sleep — a faint, sleepy “love you” — and melted further into your arms, soft and safe at last.
summary: San had always believed that nothing except his work could consume him. So what happens when you set a fire in his heart?
genre: fluff, love at first sight, drunk (or tipsy?) confessions, strangers to lovers
warnings: mentions of alcohol, tipsy San
wc: 6.7k
a/n: Well, basically it wasn't supposed to exceed 2k words (I guess?) but I got too possessed during the process. Ngl, this San made me giggle a little bit (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.). As always I wanted to thank my beta reader @xserenityrq who always takes time to correct my mistakes, your help and patient mean a lot to me thank you so much ♡. The title is from a song I really like but I'll indicate the song and its artist at the end of the story. Anyways, enjoy!
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San loved his job.
Maybe too much.
He loved it so much that he almost never slept. Or he would sleep at 2am, thinking of a new way of promoting the recent product made by the company he worked in. A toothpaste, strawberry flavor. Which was, according to him, totally ridiculous. If he was their customer he would've wanted to have mentholated breath.
But of course he couldn't just say aloud his thoughts. And his boss didn't expect him, or his colleagues, to have any sort of opinion. You just accomplish your task without asking any question.
And this just summarized San's life.
Waking up.
Working.
Eating.
Home.
Making dinner.
Showering.
Sleeping.
Again and again.
Nevertheless, San was happy. He could provide for himself thanks to his salary. He didn't have financial issues so he considered himself fairly lucky.
And he loved his job.
Right?
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Nevermind, he hated his job.
When San opened his eyes, he knew it would be a bad day.
It was easier to put a mask on and pretend he was happy with his job, that he liked being behind his computer screen from 8am to 7pm.
At least he had Wooyoung.
Wooyoung was the only person whose existence didn't bother San. He was the only colleague he ate with. He was loud but his presence strangely brought comfort to San's loneliness.
Thirthy minutes later San was ready. Well, physically ready but mentally, his mind was somewhere else, stuck in the soft sheets of his bed.
He sighed, taking a brief look of his reflection in the mirror of his bathroom.
His appearance was screaming ''zombie''.
Even though his tie was neatly done, his shirt was crumpled and his dark rings under his eyes were at least three inches deep.
He pushed his glasses up. At least his lenses looked clean.
Yesterday, his car broke down so the only option left for him was to take public transport. And here was another thing that annoyed him even more. He usually was lazy and sleepy in the morning, being around lots of people on public transportation was the last thing he wanted.
After he had locked the door of his appartment he took the elevator although he lived on the second floor.
Yeah, he was that lazy.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed in the pocket of his slacks.
Taking the phone out of it, he glanced at his screen.
It was a message from Wooyoung.
Wooyoung
Hi San :))))
Wooyoung
Tonight we'll have a drink at the bar I told you about. And of course, when I say we, I'm talking about you and me. :)
He didn't even ask if San wanted to go. And of course, as always, San would just accept it because it was useless to argue against Wooyoung. Not that he hadn't tried. But Wooyoung always ended up having the last word.
San
Can I at least know why?
The answer was immediate.
Wooyoung
Because you look like you're on the verge of exploding and you need a break from work.
San
I don't know what you're talking about.
Wooyoung
...
Wooyoung
You will come anyway.
San rolled his eyes but he knew Wooyoung was right. He needed a break. It's been three weeks since they last had free time and San's mind was really going to combust. But San wasn't the type of person to pay attention to his body's signals that clearly told him he was exhausted.
He needed this job even if he didn't like it.
Even if it makes him feel empty.
However, San didn't know if he was happy.
Was he?
He had a job with a decent salary, an apartment and food.
So why did it felt like something was missing in his life?
Why did he-
San felt a body bumped into him violently. And a sudden hot liquid on the front of his shirt.
Too hot.
''Oh my god, I'm so sorry- I wasn't looking where I was going-''
San slowly lifted his head, feeling his blood boiled under his skin.
That's it. He's going to explode. Here. Right now.
He was about to scold on this stranger but when his eyes landed on the person in front of him, his heart stopped.
The world vanished.
The sound around him muted. And suddenly it felt like he just got shot right into his heart.
Here, in front him, was standing the prettiest woman San had ever seen.
Awe quickly replaced anger.
And maybe a bit of embarrassement.
Embarrassement? For what exactly? It's not like he was the one who bumped into her.
A sudden rush of heat crept up his face.
What the hell was happening to him?
''I-I, no i-it's okay.''
He internally slapped himself for his stutter. He wanted to be mad at her, for ruining his day even more.
But instead he just got lost in her eyes.
Oh.
Her eyes are so...
So...
His chest tightened.
He couldn't do this anymore. He needed to run away before he turns into a blushing mess and makes a fool of himself.
So he rapidly passed her, continuing his way to his bus stop.
''Wait, your shirt is-''
San accelerated. Almost run.
Even her voice is beautiful.
It was only when he had reached his bus stop that he noticed he's been holding his breath. He checked his heart, putting a hand on his chest.
His heart couldn't stop beating rapidly. And his hands were sweaty.
San felt completely lost.
What just happened?
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You hated being late.
That's why you had never been late.
Almost.
There was some days or your alarm wouldn't ring.
And unfortunately, today was one of those days.
So here you were, running like your life depends on it, with two coffee in your hands. One for you, one for your father.
Even though you were in the rush, you couldn't skip your morning drink.
It definitely slowed you but you didn't care.
Your dad has been running a bar for years. It quickly became the most popular one in town.
Well it was half-bar, half-restaurant. But the fact is, this bar was different. It had a particularity. Something that had charmed many people around here.
You.
You've always loved singing since your were a kid. You had taken singing lessons, even had been a soloist in your choir group. You've never missed an opportunity to practice your vocals. People who had heard your voice have always been amazed by it.
You were never satisfied. You kept practicing.
But you loved singing.
Singing was like speaking a language you could feel and understand.
One day you asked your father if you could sing at his bar and just looked at you with surprise.
What you both didn't expect, was the amount of customers incading the bar after your first performance and with this, the surge of popularity that came with it.
You've been singing at the bar for a year and a half and you've never been more happy. You gave up on college to help your father while doing the thing that made you feel alive.
And you were being paid.
Because your voice was the particularity of the bar.
You and your father both agreed to keep this up.
But being his daughter didn't mean he would be more gentle. That is to say, he didn't tolerate lateness.
Your lungs were burning as you kept running.
Well, this situation could have been worse.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed the man on his phone who was walking in your direction.
And the situation you didn't want to happen literally hit you.
You both had collided with so much force that your coffee spilled on the man's shirt.
You stilled.
Then, panic and horror rushed on your face.
Oh no.
This couldn't be happening right now.
What have I done in my past life to be cursed? Did I kill someone?
Say something. Don't just stand like that.
''Oh my god, I'm so sorry- I wasn't looking where I was going-''
You're cooked.
You're definitely cooked.
The man slowly lifted his head.
You closed your eyes, mentally bracing yourself for insults.
But then, nothing.
Your eyes hesitantly opened.
The man before you was looking straight into your eyes. But what you didn't expect was his expression.
Because he looked anything but mad.
In fact, it looked like he was...shy ?
Am I not supposed to be the one shy ?
You noticed the way his ears were pink and the way his face got redder the more seconds passed.
His eyes were slighly wide and his lips parted.
''I-I, no i-it's okay.''
Just as you were about to ask him if he was okay he suddenly passed by you.
''Wait, your shirt is...''
He didn't listen. Worse, he practically run.
''...dirty.''
Okay?
Did he just ignore me?
You sighed, running your hand over your face. At least he didn't scold me.
Even though his reaction seemed weird you couldn't deny that he was a cute stranger, with his glasses slipping off his nose. In fact, when you thought of it he looked really handsome despite the exhaustion on his face.
You chuckled.
At least he made the beginning of your day a bit better.
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''You look like shit.''
San shot Wooyoung a dark glance in the mirror, trying to wipe his now not-so-white shirt now that a trace of coffee stained on it.
''You're not helping.'' San grumbled.
''Wasn't trying to.''
''Wooyoung.''
''Alright, alright, I was joking. Jeez, you really need to relax.''
After San had arrived at his work place, Wooyoung had sent him a glare that screamed ''are you actually okay bro?''
San had ignored him and made his way to the washroom. Eventually he told him about his very interesting misadventure.
He didn't mention that he had found her beautiful nor the way his pulse had hammered in his throat.
''It enforces my point. Your need a break. A real one.''
''So the other breaks we've had weren't real? And what is even the difference between the previous bars we've already gone to and the one you'll drag me to tonight?''
The familiar smirk that San knew too well now, appeared on Wooyoung's lips.
''It's good you're asking me this because it is a different bar.''
''You always say that and we always end up in the most ordinary bar.''
Wooyoung rolled his eyes.
''Fair point. But this one is definitely cool. And chic.''
San frowned.
''Chic?''
''Yeah. But the most important thing is that they have a singer. ''
Wooyoung noticed San's confusion because he added: ''A friend of mine works there as a singer. She sings very well.''
''Is she a composer too?"
Wooyoung shook his head.
''No. She always sings famous songs or, at least, songs that catch the vibe of the bar. But it's been four months since I last saw her.''
''So that's why you've never told me about this bar. Because you forgot about your friend's existence?''
His question got him a fake disapproval glare from his colleague.
''It's a bit of a leap to say that.''
''Well, am I wrong though?"
Wooyoung rolled his eyes.
''Let's not change the subject.''
They continued to talk while San was trying his best to wipe his shirt. Unfortunately for him, his actions didn't do anything to reduce the dirty brown stain. Eventually, he gave up and decided he would stop by his house to change his shirt after work.
They left the washroom and headed toward their office. As Wooyoung rambled, San got lost in his thoughts.
Same routine.
He gathered himself to face another long and restless journey, with the same repetitive tasks, the same annoying boss and the same boring colleagues.
Yeah. A very long journey.
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You loved singing.
It was a fact. But you forgot that the soreness of it comes with long practices. Your dry mouth had always got you drinking liter and liter of water.
But seeing couples dancing together, the acknowledgement, the smile on people's face were all worth it.
And it was also the part you liked the most in your job.
Your father had decided to temporarly close the bar and reopen it at 7 pm. This way, not only he could clean the bar (with your help and and the waiters') but you could also rest your voice and revise the setlist for tonight's performance.
''Laufey again?'' Your dad sighed.
''But I love her songs! And you can't tell me that most of her songs don't fit the mood.''
''I agree with you but you've been singing the same songs for one year.''
You put down the setlist and turned your chair to face your father, his arms crossed on his chest, a fake look of exasperation. Well, not entirely fake because you've both already had this conversation.
''I don't see the issue. And the customers seem to enjoy it too.''
''For now.''
You closed your eyes trying not to let the annoyance be seen on your face.
''I'll change the setlist if we have one complaint from a customer. How does it sound to you?''
His eyes narrowed, staring at you as if he was weighing the pros and the cons in his head. As if you haven't said this a million times.
''Deal.'' He eventually says.
You faked a surprised expression.
''Woah, never thought you would be okay with that.''
''Stop being sarcastic or else I'll change my mind.''
You smiled widely before getting up and kissing his cheek.
''Thank you dad.''
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips.
There was one thing you were sure about your father. Despite his severity, he's been your number one supporter since your birth, even more after your first step. Your parents divorced and you weren't in good terms with your mother. She never took your passion for singing seriously and thought you would be better and more useful as a doctor.
But there was none of that with your father.
That's why you've always been grateful to have him by your side.
When the clock hit 7pm, your father notified you he had opened the bar.
You took a deep breath, eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror. Singing in front of many people has always made you quite nervous because doubts always remained in the back of your mind. You've done this plenty of times. There was no need to feel pressured. However, being on stage has always been intimidating.
But tonight was different.
You had a gut feeling.
You didn't know where this feeling was coming from. What caused so many doubts all of a sudden.
The most important question that remained in your head was:
Why do I have a bad feeling?
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San didn't know if he made the good decision by agreeing to accompany Wooyoung, because after leaving work, the only thing he wanted to do was to take his car and drive back to his sweet house and dive in his bed.
But here they were, in San's car, Wooyoung giving him instructions of which way to go after they stopped by San's house, giving him the opportunity to look more presentable without stained coffee him.
''You will see San, I'm telling you this bar is awesome. And if we're lucky enough, it might be even more cool since the last time I came in there.''
At this point, San didn't have the strength to contradict or respond to him.
He just wanted to forget.
So he just nodded, sometimes giving a short answer every time Wooyoung started to ramble.
When they arrived, he didn't expect the storefront to look like that. He had imagined it less...welcoming? Wooyoung wasn't wrong when he said the place looked chic. But not in an expensive way. Warm colors and lights highlighted its name.
Pretty Jazz
San lift his eyebrow.
What an odd name.
It's was very unique.
''Come on, let's go.'' Wooyoung pushed San toward the entry.
When they stepped in, the air immediately shifted. There were so many people already and it only opened an hour ago. And the place...
If on the outside it looked chic and warm, the inside was another story. It did keep the same warmth as the outside but the difference was in the mood. The place looked cozy but sophisticated with the neat tables, cutlery and red booths.
But what definitely caught San's attention was the song building the atmosphere. Or to be more specific, a voice.
The voice sounded so soft but also smooth. San was amazed by the way she controlled her voice and breath. The music was very jazzy but also catchy. It made San want to dance or have a dance with someone.
''I'm going to order drinks. What do you want?''
San shrugged his shoulders.
''I'll let you choose.''
Maybe he shouldn't have said this, considering the smirk on Wooyoung's face, but like he said earlier he didn't want to think too much tonight. He'll have time to regret his decision tomorrow.
''Find us a table.''
''Aren't waiters supposed to do that?''
''Yeah but they know me so I can do whatever I want.''
And he said it like it was an obvious statement.
''If you say so.''
Wooyoung sent him a blank stare before turning away.
San wandered across the place, between tables already taken. There was a huge crowd and if the restaurant-bar wasn't big, he would have to tell Wooyoung to find another spot.
San was searching for a free table not far away from where the voice was coming from. He wanted to put a face on this lovely voice.
When he noticed a free spot with a good view on the scene he hurried before anyone takes it.
He sat, sighing at the comfort of the seat.
But when he lifted his head and his eyes landed on the singer...
...he went completely still.
Oh.
Oh Lord.
The woman standing before him, on the platform with a micro, was wearing a long blue dress. The ribbons on the straps of her dress, flounces and the high heeled shoes, matching the color of the dress, made her look like a princess.
A princess with an angelic voice...
San's eyes widened.
...and the same princess who had bumped into him.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
His chest did this familiar squeeze. His hands started to sweat and he didn't have to look at a mirror to know he was blushing.
He closed his eyes.
Of all people existing it had to be her.
He remembered the sparkle in her eyes, her soothing voice apologizing for staining his shirt, the sweet scent of coconut, her-
''There you are!''
San jumped, his colleague slumped onto the booth seat. He looked at San suspiciously.
''Are you okay? You're very red.''
''Y-yeah it's just...It's getting really hot here.''
To emphasize his words, he pulled on his collar.
''There's AC here.''
San blushed even more.
''Y-yeah. Anyways.''
Wooyoung probed at him.
''You're acting weird today.''
San hummed avoiding his eyes.
Bad idea.
Because his eyes landed on her again.
Wooyoung followed his gaze before his face lights up.
''Oh, there she is. I didn't even notice her. She's very good at singing isn't she?''
San didn't answer. He just observed her. The way her dress moved gracefully whenever she spun, enjoying the melody of the music, the way her eyes closed while singing, her voice filtering into San's ears and reaching his heart, and the smile on her lips.
He couldn't take his eyes off her.
When the song came to an end, everyone applauded, cheering enthusiastically.
The woman bowed, moving the microphone back to her lips.
''Thank you so much for your support! As I always say, I'm always willing to bring not only comfort...''
She grinned.
''But also love.''
San's heart jumped.
''This one is for my heartbroken people. I hope you'll find some comfort in this song as I did when I had my first heartache.''
San clenched his fists.
How could someone hurt such a lovely soul?
Obviously, he didn't know her. But there was something, this pull, a feeling he couldn't put a name on, that told him she was too majestic to have her heart broken.
The first notes raised in the air. And this song seemed different from the previous one. It sounded less happy, more melancholic? Violins played, accompanying the melody coming from the guitar.
San hold his breath when her lips parted.
Feeling kind of sick tonight
All I've had is coffee and leftover pie
It's no wonder why
Even her voice sounded different here. More fragile. He noticed her closed eyes. Like she was remembering how hurt she felt that time.
Maybe she was remembering.
The song sounded so majestic but also held obvious pain. Even though San never had his heart broken, his heart squeezed like it remembered a past lover.
Then, came the chorus.
One day, I will stop falling in love with you
Some day, someone will like me Iike I like you
Her eyes opened.
Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie
Pretend that we are more than friends
Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again
His voice got stuck in his throat.
He observed the crowd. Everyone else also seemed hypnotized by the song. There was some couple hugging each other, with a fond smile while listenning the song. Even Wooyoung looked touched by her voice.
By the end of the song, everyone applauded.
And San?
Well, San was now definitely a tomato.
His heart was hammering at a dangerous speed.
He was so lost in the mixing of his feelings that he didn't even notice Wooyoung waving at her.
It was only when he heard her voice near him he lifted his eyes.
''Wooyoung! It's been a while! How are you?''
His colleague stood up while she approached. They hugged each other.
San frowned.
''I'm good. I'm sorry I didn't visit you before, I was busy.''
She made a gesture like she waved his excuse.
''Don't worry about that. Oh, I see you're not alone.''
Wooyoung's smile deepened.
''Yep! Let me introduce you to San- ''
When he gestures towards him. He was still sat on the seat, eyes never leaving her since they interacted.
When his eyes met hers, he saw the way she stiffened. Her smile faded. Her eyes widened a slighly.
She recognizes him.
''Nice to meet you, San.''
San swallowed back an embarrassing squeak at the way his name rolled over her tongue.
San nodded.
''Nice to meet you too.''
They stared at each other not knowing what to do.
Wooyoung watched with hawk eyes.
''Want to join us? I need to make up for the lost time. And I'm sure you have good gossip for me.''
She broke eye contact while laughing at Wooyoung's stupid statement.
''Okay. Let's do that.''
San exhaled through his noise.
Yeah, there's no way he was going to survive this.
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You sure didn't expect this.
Seeing the beautiful stranger from earlier.
You called him that because it was true.
He's ethereal.
You tried your best to focus your attention on Wooyoung's words but you felt his burning gaze on you. Yo were used to having eyes on you, when you were singing, practicing while your father listened because you wanted his opinion.
But this time was different.
Because everytime you would glance at San, he was already watching you, his gaze holding this intensity you couldn't handle.
He didn't talk, letting you and Wooyoung converse.
At some point, Wooyoung stood up from the booth seat.
''Alright guys, I love you both but I really need to pee, otherwise my bladder will explode.''
You rolled your eyes at his straightforwardness.
''Yeah we really needed to know that.''
He left with a giggle.
Okay.
Now you were alone with San.
San who was still staring at you by the way. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks slighly red due to the alcohol.
You took the opportunity to take a good look at him. You noticed the way his dark hair was a bit messy, unlike this morning when it was neatly slicked back.
His glasses were on the table, some of his locks falling onto his eyes. You dragged your eyes lower. His tie was loosened, the first two buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his forearms.
When your eyes lifted to his face, he was smiling at you.
And then you felt it.
Your heart skipped a beat.
It was your first time seeing him smiling. And his smile...
Why does he look at me like that?
...was full of fondness. Like you were something precious. Like you were a pretty shining sun.
You stuck your hands beneath your thigh to prevent them from shaking.
Because his expression unsettled you.
San unsettled you.
You broke the silent first.
''Hi.'' You said awkwardly.
''Hi.''
You wanted to look away. But you couldn't. Because every time, your eyes would find their way back to his.
''Did you enjoy the show?''
''I did. You have a nice voice.'' San answered, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours.
''Thank you.''
And you didn't know what to say else. You always find a way to talk. But strangely, today you were at a complete loss of words.
But you didn't have to. Because San continued.
''This song you've sung today...you must really like it.''
You didn't know if he was asking or he was stating.
'''Let You Break My Heart Again'? I do like it a lot. The first time I heard it, I had my first heartbreak. It was hard to heal from it. But I eventually did, and realized I wasn't the problem.''
You don't know why you told him this. You just felt like it. Somehow, it just came out naturally.
San's eyes hardened when you mentionned your heartbreak but softened at the end.
''I'm glad to hear that.''
You nodded shyly.
''Since when do you know Wooyoung?'' San asked.
''I know him since childhood.''
A flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes. You exhale a brief laugh at his expression.
''Well, our first meeting was actually pretty chaotic. Very long story.''
But instead of changing of subject, San leaned forward.
''Well, I have time. We even have the whole night. So tell me. I'm curious.''
His warm smile didn't leave him, his head a bit tilted.
You smile faded.
Okay, you were not prepare for this level of attention. You were certainly not ready for him say that.
His smile. His eyes. The calm in his voice.
You've never seen someone with such an empathic expression.
Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol.
Still, you couldn't take it anymore.
The question slipped before you could even think twice.
''Are you curious about how I met Wooyoung or about me?''
You both were surprised by your question.
''I'm sorry I don't know why I sai-''
''Both.''
You blinked.
''What?''
''I said both. I'm curious about how you met him and about you.''
Your heart fluttered for an unknown reason.
''Oh.''
San lifted his eyebrow, amused by your reaction.
''You don't want me to know more about you?''
''What? No, no, of course I'd like you to know me. I mean I'd like to know more about you too. I mean, who wouldn't?''
You stopped.
You did not just say that.
But the gaze he gave you clearly proved you wrong.
You stare at each other.
And you both burst out laughing.
You couldn't stop laughing and neither could he.
You felt something ease on your chest and a warmth spreading. You didn't remember the last time you had laughed like that. But it made you feel good. Really good.
And you could see San was feeling the same way.
It was only when Wooyoung came back that your laugh calmed down.
You and Wooyoung were still talking, but sometimes you would ask questions to San and he would answer it with this amused gaze that hadn't left him since you had laughed together. Sometimes you would shoot him a small smile and he would return it, but his was wider and cuter.
And just like that, in a light atmosphere, filled with quiet laughs and bickering, you thought it was the best night of your life.
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One month has passed since this night.
Wooyoung and San stayed until closing time. You'd hugged Wooyoung, thanking him for coming to see you.
And San...
You'd both shyly looked at each other before he gave you a brief hug, sliding a scrap of paper with his number on it in your hand.
Since then, you both texted each other almost everyday. At first, it was just simple messages such as ''Have a nice day!'', ''Have you eaten?'' or things like that. Until one day, you accidently called him one night. You didn't click on the call button on purpose. You were just rereading your previous texts with him, laying on your couch, but somehow your phone managed to slip from your hands, falling onto your face.
And your nose just did the work for you.
''Hello?'' A deep voice had echoed from your phone.
You had felt embarrassement running over your face.
''San? I'm sorry I didn't mean to call you. I'll hang up-''
''Wait, wait, don't.''
Your finger had stilled above the button.
''Can we talk? I feel a bit lonely...''
Your heart had throbbed painfully at his statement.
''Yes, sure.''
Since this call, you'd learned a lot of things about Choi San. For instance, you'd learned he was a hard worker. He often worked until very late at night, hence the exhaustion in his eyes and the paleness of his face. He worked in the marketing department of a company who sold toothpaste. You also had guessed that he didn't like his job. Everytime he would talk about his tasks, his boss, his colleagues and how hypocritical he found them (except Wooyoung), you could sense the bitterness in his voice.
Sometimes, he would even give you some tea about them. Some made you laugh really hard and some would make you clench your fists. Because they didn't deserve to have San in their team. He had to fix every mistake they made, and sometimes he was even the one to get scolded by his boss even when it wasn't his fault.
What hurt the most is that he seemed used to it. Wooyoung always came to his defense, but he didn't have much more power than San.
''The boss wouldn't believe me anyway.'' San had said during one late night call when you suggested he denounce them.
Despite that, he has always said that since you met, you were the best part of his day. And it made your heart flutter harder each time he said it.
''I like talking to you. I really like it.''
He couldn't see you but you were internally screaming, burying your face in your pillow.
You couldn't help but feel this strange feeling growing each day, every time you thought about him, every time he was asking about your day, everytime he praised your voice whenever you would sing some songs for him, every time he would make you laugh, every time he would sleep before you, the call still ongoing.
And all of that without seeing him.
Because you didn't see him, not since that night at the bar.
And you wanted to see him. You wanted to ask him to come to see you at the bar again.
You missed him.
And when the realization had hit you, it just made you widened your eyes.
Because, somehow, you realized he bacame your home.
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It happened faster than you'd expected.
Like someone had heard your wish.
That day, you were ready to give your best on stage, as usual.
Each time you sang, your eyes would look at the seat, occupied by everyone expect the person you wanted to see.
So when you finished your sixth song of the night, your eyes flew to the seat.
You felt your pulse hammering in your throat.
He's here.
He was sitting in the same place as last time. Your breath caught. San wasn't wearing his usual work clothes. He was dressed in casual clothes. He was wearing a brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt and black cargo pants. His didn't have his glasses on.
He was sprawled, one arm stretching out along the back of the booth seat, his hand on his drink, sometimes bringing it to his lips, eyes never leaving yours.
Considering the faint pink on his cheeks, you supposed he was already tipsy. And this just made him looked cuter. Cuter than the last time.
This time it was your turn to give him a fond smile.
He immediately returned it. He even gave you a wink.
You looked away, because again you couldn't handle his gaze. Or maybe you couldn't handle how you felt just from his eyes.
Suddenly, an idea popped up in your head.
You were supposed to take a brief break but you wanted to sing a last song.
For him.
And you already knew which one you wanted him to hear.
You faced the musicians behind you giving them instructions before approaching your father.
''I want to sing one last song.''
Your father raised his eyebrows.
''Are you sure? Your voice needs a break, I don't want you to overuse it.''
''Please, just one more song.''
He gazed at your face.
''Is it for him?'' He eventually says.
You choked on your saliva.
''W-what?''
''You think I didn't notice this man a month ago with whom you've chatted and your eyes searching for him at each of your performances since?''
You felt your cheeks burned.
''I c-can explain-''
Your father burst out laughing.
''I'm teasing you, don't worry. You have the right to fall in love.''
''I'm not in love.''
But you weren't convinced by your own lie. Neither was your father.
''No comment.''
You rolled your eyes but you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder.
''One song.''
You smiled at him, throwing yourself into his arms.
''I love you dad.''
''But I want you to introduce him to me.''
You took a step back giving him a desperate look.
''We're not even dating.''
''When did I say that I wanted you to present him as your boyfriend?''
Caught in your own trap you decided to run away, your father's laugh echoeing behind you.
When you got on stage again, San was still there. When your eyes met his, he asked something you could easily read from his lips.
Are you okay?
You nodded. He was always so attentive.
You approached the mic tapping gently the micro.
People stopped what they were doing, turning their focus on you, intrigued.
''I know it was supposed to be my last song...but I want to sing one more.''
People cheered. You smiled at their enthusiasm, but tonight you only cared about him.
''I've never sung this song but I want to dedicate it to someone who is here. It is called Beautiful Stranger by Laufey.''
You took a deep breath. You noticed the interrogative look San sent you but you ignored it.
You gave a nod to the musicians, giving them the green light.
Soft notes of guitar rose in the air. You closed your eyes. This time it wasn't because you wanted to feel the song...it was because you were too nervous to look at him.
Beautiful stranger, sitting right there
Looked up at me and my dark curly hair
Looked back for a second, didn't want to be rude
I tend to fall in love on the tube
Even with your eyes closed, you felt his eyes burning your skin. You know some lyrics aren't accurate to your relationship, but some definitely are.
But the aim of singing this song wasn't really to make him see himself through it. At least, it wasn't the main purpose.
After the first chorus, you opened your eyes, locking them immediately onto his.
Beautiful stranger, catching my stare
It's fate we collided right then back there
I wonder if he felt the same thing too
Innocent crush on the morning commute
San held your gaze. His face didn't express anything. But his eyes were glowing.
But my beautiful stranger will have to remain
A stranger until I see him again
By the end of the song, the place burst into applause.
But your eyes were only on him.
Your eyes were telling a million things that you wish he could understand. San didn't smile, but the fondness behind his eyes, and something else, betrayed him.
He stood up, his eyes locked onto yours.
And just like that, he left.
You didn't hesitate before you followed him.
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The fresh air of the night didn't do anything to calm San's heart.
Everything inside him was chaos.
He was desesperately trying to calm himself, fanning his face because he knew he looked like a tomato again.
''I can't take it anymore.'' He muttered to himself.
''Can't take what exactly?''
San's head snapped toward the voice behind him.
There she is. The one who stole my heart.
She approached him slowly.
His heart instantly flutters.
He clenched his fists. He felt like he was going to explode. Worse, he is exploding.
''Why?''
He saw her frowned.
''What do you mean by why?''
''Why do you do that to me?''
Confusion flashed through her eyes.
''San-''
''Everytime, there's this thing in me. I-I can't control it. Why does my heart ache whenever I look at you? How can you be so...so...''
Her eyes were shining. And suddenly he felt warmth on his right cheek.
Her hand was on his cheek. Gently stroking it.
He turned slighly his head, putting a soft kiss onto her palm. San heard her breath catch.
''How many drinks did you have, San?''
''Just one.''
She frowned again.
''One?''
''One and a half.''
''One and a half?''
''Two. Or three. Don't remember.''
He saw her chuckled again. And it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
''You're so pretty. Did you know that?''
''You're not thinking straight.''
''Of course I am. Are you insinuating I am lying?''
A grin appeared on her lips.
''I didn't say that.''
''So take my feelings seriously.''
Her strokes on his cheeks stopped.
''Your feelings?''
''You make me feel less lonely. Your voice appeases my brain and makes me forget all my problems. And it's weird because it feels like your presence always manages to pull me out, like I was sinking under water and you would save me. I can't seem to stop thinking about you, your voice, your laugh, your scent, your eyes, the way you're always so attentive whenever I complain about my job, the way you comfort me, the way you always care for me when I work late. But also the way your eyes light up when people applaude, how gorgeous and angelic you look on stage and-''
He didn't finish that he felt lips on his, interrupting him.
His eyes widened. During a couple of seconds he went very still. Then, he closed his eyes kissing her back.
It wasn't a brief kiss.
It was a passionate kiss, holding all the feelings they felt for each other. But all above that, there was one feeling that definitely stood out more the others.
Love.
When they broke the kiss, their foreheads against each other, catching their breath, the night never felt more calm for San.
''I love you.'' He whispered.
She laughed, her lips brushing his.
''Yeah, I think I could've guessed it.''
San kissed the corner of her mouth.
''I love you too.''
San smiled. Their lips connected again. The kiss was less hurried. More calm.
But no less devastating than the previous one.
When they broke apart again, San wanted to chase her lips again but she moved her head away sending him an amused gaze.
''Do you know why did I choose this song?''
''Hmm...Because of the lyrics?''
Her smile deepened.
''Well it could've been because of that, but no.''
He frowned, staring at her lips like it could give him the answer. Eventually, he shooks his head.
She leaned towards his ear.
''Because in this universe, you're my beautiful stranger.''
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songs title : Let You Break My Heart Again by Laufey & Philharmonia Orchestra ; Beautiful Stranger by Laufey
