#seonghyeon

[coconhovr]

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗨 𝗖𝗥𝗬 𑣲 𝐉𝐔𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── juhoon who was never good at telling his emotions started crying infront of you after a heated argument between you two

★ bf ! juhoon × fem!reader

word count ── 3.2k

˖᯽ ݁˖ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 coco speaking here! JUHOON GOTTA BE THE PRETTIEST CRIER IVE EVER SEEN LIKE WHY IS HE JUST SO PRETTY ALL THE DAMN TIME 😓😓😓 UGH MY AEGI HES SO PRECIOUS TO ME 𖧧 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The fight began the way most disastrous arguments do—not with screaming or shattered glass, but with something deceptively insignificant.

A forgotten text, a delayed response, a sigh delivered with the wrong tone. By midnight, however, the tiny fracture had widened into something jagged and catastrophic.

Rain tapped relentlessly against the apartment windows while the city beyond the glass dissolved into blurred streaks of gold and gray. The kitchen lights remained dim, casting amber shadows across the marble counters and illuminating the tension suspended thickly between the two of you.

You stood near the island with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, nails digging crescents into your sleeves as though physically holding yourself together.

Across from you, Juhoon leaned against the counter in suffocating silence.

That silence again. That unbearable, impenetrable quietness that made every disagreement feel one-sided, like throwing your emotions against a locked door and hearing nothing echo back.

His expression was composed in the infuriating way it always was—controlled, restrained, unreadable. Even now, during an argument that had your chest aching so violently you could barely breathe, he looked devastatingly calm.

You hated that, not because he was cruel, but because you could never tell if he cared as much as you did.

“You could at least look at me while I’m talking,” you said at last, your voice strained from holding too much emotion for too long.

His gaze flickered upward briefly before drifting away again. “I’m listening.”

“That’s the problem,” you replied bitterly. “You’re always listening. Never talking.”

His jaw flexed, a subtle reaction most people would miss.

You didn’t. You noticed everything about him because you had spent months teaching yourself how to love someone who communicated through fragments instead of sentences.

The way his fingers curled meant irritation. The slight tension in his shoulders meant discomfort. The silence meant he was overwhelmed.

Except tonight you were exhausted from deciphering him. “You always do this,” you continued, voice trembling despite your efforts to steady it. “Every single time we argue, you shut down and leave me to figure everything out on my own.”

“I’m not shutting down.”

“You haven’t said more than five words to me in ten minutes.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, already looking fatigued by the conversation. “You know I’m not good at this.”

A humorless laugh escaped you. “At what? Communicating? Having emotions?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No?” Your eyes burned. “Then tell me what is fair, Juhoon. Because I spend half this relationship wondering whether you actually want me here.”

That finally made him look at you directly, and the hurt in his eyes was immediate. But instead of softening you, it only made the frustration twisting through your ribs intensify. “You know that’s not true.”

“How would I know?” you shot back. “You never tell me anything.”

His patience began to fracture. You could hear it in the clipped cadence of his breathing. “I show you.”

“You show me in ways I have to analyze like I’m decoding some impossible language,” you said, voice rising. “Do you know how exhausting that is?”

He pushed away from the counter then, agitation radiating from him in restrained waves. “And do you know how exhausting it is feeling like nothing I do is enough for you?”

The words struck harder than expected. You blinked. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to.” His tone sharpened. For the first time that night, genuine anger seeped through his carefully maintained composure.

“It’s always the same conversation,” he continued. “You keep asking for more and more and more from me like I’m failing some test I didn’t even know I was taking.”

“That’s not what this is!”

“Then what is it?” he snapped suddenly. “Because apparently loving you quietly isn’t enough. Remembering everything about you isn’t enough. Being there whenever you need me isn’t enough because I don’t say pretty things every five seconds.”

The accusation stole the air from your lungs. “I never asked for perfect words,” you whispered.

“Could’ve fooled me.” The cruelty in his voice was subtle, not loud nor explosive.  Which somehow made it worse.

Your throat tightened painfully. “I just want reassurance sometimes.”

“And I’m telling you I’m trying.”

“You barely talk to me when something’s wrong!”

“Because every time I do,” he said sharply, “it turns into this.”

Silence crashed between you again, only this time it felt vicious. Your heartbeat thudded painfully against your ribs. “You know what hurts the most?” you asked quietly. “I feel lonely even when I’m standing right beside you.”

Something cold flickered across his face then. Exhaustion, the kind born from feeling perpetually misunderstood. “And you know what I’m tired of?” he replied. “Feeling like I have to become someone else just to keep you satisfied.”

Your lips parted. “That’s not—”

“No, listen,” he interrupted, voice rougher now. “I can’t love the way you want every second of every day. I’m not overly emotional. I’m not good with words. And honestly?” His eyes hardened slightly. “Maybe if you stopped needing constant validation, we wouldn’t keep ending up here.”

The sentence landed like a blade driven straight between your ribs. The room went completely still. Juhoon seemed to realize it immediately.

You saw the regret flash across his features the second the words left his mouth. But it was too late, because suddenly every insecurity you had buried deep inside yourself came clawing violently to the surface.

Too clingy, too emotional, too much. Your face went blank in the terrifying way heartbreak sometimes empties a person instead of making them cry. “Wow,” you whispered.

“Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“No.” Your voice sounded distant even to yourself. “You meant it.”

His expression crumpled slightly. “I was angry.”

“That doesn’t make it less true.”

“It’s not true.”

But now you couldn’t stop hearing it. Maybe if you stopped needing constant validation. The sentence echoed viciously through your head.

You swallowed hard, suddenly unable to bear the sight of him. Without another word, you turned and grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair.

Juhoon straightened immediately. “Where are you going?”

“I need to leave for a while.”

“It’s raining.”

“I don’t care.”

He stepped forward then, panic finally overtaking the frustration on his face. “Don’t do this.”

You laughed softly, but the sound was hollow. “Do what? Leave before I embarrass myself by begging someone to love me correctly?”

His face paled. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant.”

“I was frustrated—”

“And I was hurt.”

Your voice cracked at last. Raw devastation bleeding through the numbness settling over you. “You know what the worst part is?” you whispered, eyes glossy now. “I defended your silence for so long. To everyone. I kept telling myself you loved differently, that you cared in ways people couldn’t see.”

Juhoon looked like he physically couldn’t breathe.

“But tonight,” you continued shakily, “you made me feel stupid for wanting reassurance from the person I love.”

The apartment fell deathly silent. Rain battered the windows harder. His eyes glistened with immediate remorse “Please don’t leave angry.”

You stared at him for a long moment. At the boy you loved so desperately it frightened you. The boy whose quiet tenderness had once felt safe. Now it only felt unreachable. “I think if I stay right now,” you said softly, “I’ll say something unforgivable.”

Then you walked toward the door.

“Baby—”

But this time, when he said it, you didn’t stop, and the sound of the door closing behind you felt far too much like something breaking forever.

The night had become glacial by the time you finally wandered back toward the apartment. Hours had passed in a blur of rain-slick sidewalks, blurred streetlights, and thoughts so tangled they felt impossible to unravel.

The city was nearly silent now, stripped of its usual vibrancy, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rush of cold wind biting against your skin.

Your fingers were numb inside your jacket pockets. Your chest hurt worse. The argument replayed relentlessly in your mind no matter how hard you tried to outrun it.

Maybe if you stopped needing constant validation.

The sentence echoed like a bruise pressed over and over again. Part of you understood he hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. You knew Juhoon better than anyone. You knew frustration twisted his words sharp sometimes, especially when emotions overwhelmed him.

But another part of you, the quieter, more fragile part—couldn’t stop wondering if there had been truth hidden beneath the cruelty.

Maybe you were too much. Too emotional, too needy, too difficult to love properly.

The thought hollowed something inside you, and somehow, despite all of it, despite the hurt still lodged painfully beneath your ribs—You missed him desperately, pathetically.

It had only been a few hours, yet every second away from him had felt profoundly wrong, as though some invisible thread tethered between your hearts had stretched too far without snapping completely.

By the time you reached the apartment building, exhaustion clung heavily to your bones. Your phone read 2:07 AM.

The hallway outside your apartment was eerily quiet. Even the usual flickering overhead light seemed dimmer tonight.

You stood outside the door for several seconds, staring blankly at the handle while anxiety twisted violently in your stomach. What if he was still angry? What if he regretted everything? What if—

You swallowed hard and unlocked the door anyway. The apartment was almost entirely dark. Only the small lamp beside the couch remained on, casting a muted golden glow across the living room. Shadows stretched lazily along the walls while rain continued murmuring softly against the windows.

And there he was. Your breath caught instantly.

Juhoon was curled awkwardly against the couch cushions, still wearing the same black hoodie from earlier. One arm lay draped over his face while the other rested limply against his stomach, like exhaustion had finally dragged him under after hours of waiting.

The sight alone nearly shattered you. He looked uncomfortable, restless. Like sleep had only claimed him out of complete emotional collapse.

Your chest constricted painfully. Slowly, carefully, you stepped closer. “Juhoon,” you whispered.

No response.

You crouched beside the couch quietly, your heart aching at how pale he looked beneath the warm light. Strands of dark hair had fallen messily across his forehead, soft and disheveled in a way that made him seem unbearably vulnerable.

Tentatively, you brushed your fingers through it. “Baby.”

His eyelashes fluttered faintly. Then slowly, reluctantly, his eyes opened, and your entire body went still.

His eyes were swollen, red-rimmed, wet. Like he had spent hours crying alone in the dark.

Your stomach dropped immediately. “Oh my god…”

The devastation on his face the moment he fully recognized you was almost unbearable to witness. Relief hit him so violently it physically altered his expression. His lips parted shakily.

Before you could even process it, Juhoon surged upright and wrapped his arms around you with desperate force, nearly knocking the breath from your lungs entirely, and then he broke apart.

A strangled sob ripped from his chest so abruptly that it startled you. His entire body trembled violently against yours while another shattered sound escaped him, raw and uncontrollable.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay,” you whispered immediately, climbing onto the couch beside him as your own vision blurred with tears. “Juhoon…”

He buried his face against your neck like he couldn’t bear to look at you directly, fingers clutching the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it almost hurt.

But you didn’t care, because Juhoon was crying. Juhoon, the boy who concealed every emotion behind silence and restraint—was sobbing in your arms like he had been holding himself together by a single unraveling thread.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out brokenly. Your heart cracked clean down the middle. “I’m so sorry.”

Another sob tore through him, rough and uneven. You froze for half a second, overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of his grief.

You had never seen him like this before. Never. 

Even during the worst moments of his life, Juhoon had always remained composed in that quiet, self-destructive way of his. He internalized everything. Buried everything. Suffered in silence because vulnerability terrified him more than pain itself.

But now?

Now he was unraveling completely beneath your touch, and somehow that hurt more than the argument ever had.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered frantically between shaky breaths. “I swear to god I didn’t mean it like that—I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks faster than he could wipe them away. His breathing came unevenly, fragile hiccups interrupting nearly every sentence.

“You left and I just…” He swallowed hard, voice splintering apart. “I thought you were done with me.”

“Oh, Juhoon…”

“I called you like ten times,” he admitted weakly, words muffled against your shoulder. “I kept trying to figure out what to say, but nothing sounded right and I—fuck—”

His voice dissolved into another sob. “I can’t lose you.” The confession was so painfully sincere it made your own tears fall instantly.

You cupped his face carefully, forcing him to look at you despite the embarrassment flickering through his watery eyes.

And god, he looked devastated.

Wet lashes clung together while tears slid endlessly down flushed skin. His lips trembled uncontrollably, breath hitching every few seconds as though his body physically could not calm down now that the fear had finally escaped him, and beneath all that anguish.

Love.

So much overwhelming love it nearly stole the air from your lungs. “You’re not losing me,” you whispered softly.

His expression crumpled further. “I thought I already did.”

You brushed your thumbs beneath his eyes gently, catching tear after tear.

“I know I’m difficult,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know I make things hard because I don’t talk right, but I swear I love you more than anything.”

The sincerity in his voice shattered whatever remained of your anger, because he meant it. Every single syllable.

Juhoon loved with terrifying intensity. He just expressed it differently—through actions, through presence, through quiet devotion hidden in places words could never fully reach.

“I don’t know how to explain things the way you need,” he continued shakily. “But I need you here. I need you.”

Your chest ached so violently it almost felt unbearable. Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed him softly.

The second your lips touched his, he melted completely. A trembling breath escaped him, shaky and uneven, before his hands slid around your waist with unmistakable desperation. Not possessive, but clinging, almost fragile, like he needed physical proof that you were truly there and not about to disappear again.

The kiss carried remnants of tears and exhaustion and unspoken apologies.

Juhoon kissed you like someone starved for reassurance, every movement hesitant at first before gradually deepening with overwhelming emotion. His lips trembled faintly against yours while his fingers curled tighter into the fabric of your hoodie, anchoring himself to you with quiet urgency.

You could still taste salt from his tears. Could still feel the uneven rhythm of his breathing brushing shakily against your skin, and somehow, that vulnerability shattered you more thoroughly than the argument ever had.

When you pulled back only slightly, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes remained half-lidded and glassy, lashes damp and clumped together from crying. There was something devastatingly defenseless about the way he looked at you now, like every carefully constructed wall he’d spent years building had finally collapsed under the sheer magnitude of loving you.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered against his mouth.

He shook his head immediately, brows pinching together. “No, don’t apologize.”

“I left.”

“You were hurt.”

“So were you.”

That alone nearly made him cry again. A shaky breath escaped him before he buried himself against you once more, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as though separation itself had become unbearable now.

This time, he didn’t fight the tears. He let them come. Soft, broken sobs trembled through him while your fingers combed gently through his hair, untangling the storm little by little.

“I love you,” you murmured repeatedly against his temple. “I love you so much.”

Every single time you said it, his grip tightened, as though he was memorizing the feeling of hearing it.

Eventually his crying softened into quiet sniffles and exhausted breathing. You pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead. “Come to bed with me?”

He nodded weakly. The two of you moved through the apartment in silence, but it no longer felt hostile. Now it felt delicate, tender. Juhoon never let go of your hand once.

The second you both slipped beneath the blankets, he immediately curled himself against your side, burying his face near your shoulder while one arm wrapped securely around your waist.

Your fingers drifted slowly along his back beneath his hoodie, soothing the occasional tremor still lingering through his body.

The room remained quiet except for rain tapping softly against the windows and his gradually steadying breathing. Then, after several long minutes. “I never think you’re annoying.”

Your heart squeezed painfully. You glanced down at him. His eyes remained closed, voice rough and sleepy from crying. “I like when you cling to me,” he admitted quietly. “Makes me feel… wanted.”

A weak, watery laugh escaped you. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His fingertips curled faintly into the fabric of your shirt, hesitant and delicate despite the vulnerability trembling beneath the gesture. “When you need me like that,” he whispered quietly, voice still rough from crying, “it reminds me I matter to someone.”

You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, because suddenly everything made sense. All this time, Juhoon had been loving you with the exact same desperation you loved him.

He just buried it beneath silence because he never learned how to voice it aloud.

Your expression softened entirely. The tension lingering in your chest melted into something overwhelmingly tender as your fingers brushed carefully along his cheek, your thumb grazing beneath his eye where faint traces of tears still remained.

He leaned into the touch instinctively. The sight nearly shattered you.

Slowly, you leaned down and kissed him again. This kiss was different from before, slower, sleepier. Overflowing with forgiveness instead of panic.

Your lips moved against his with lingering tenderness while his breathing softened gradually beneath the warmth of your touch. He kissed you back carefully, almost reverently, as though savoring every second instead of fearing its disappearance.

The room around you had become impossibly still. Only the rain tapping faintly against the windows and the occasional shaky exhale from Juhoon disturbed the silence.

One of his hands slid slowly upward along your side until it rested lightly against your ribs beneath your hoodie. The touch was featherlight, unhurried, his fingertips tracing absentminded patterns there like he simply needed to feel your heartbeat beneath his palm.

Yet even now, wrapped around you beneath dim bedroom lighting, Juhoon continued kissing you with heartbreaking sincerity, as if every unspoken emotion he’d buried for months was finally pouring out through touch instead of words.

Juhoon sighed softly against your lips before tucking himself impossibly closer, his face hidden safely against your neck now. “I love you,” he whispered once more, barely audible.

[oceanhyy]

ᯓ★ FIRST DRINK .ᐟ .ᐟ

☆.ㅤ SYN. ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ  your usually shy boyfriend gets drunk for the first time and becomes way too clingy.

ᯓ   ࣪   ˖    ִ  ★     pairing    ──    eom seonghyeon ,   f  reader.    

needy seonghyeon (?) ⋆.˚ wc: 1,5k

a/n : heyyy guys, this was in my drafts for a while but whatever <𝟑 .ᐟ also keep in mind that i do not support or encourage underage drinking, it may reflect situations that many teenagers are familiar with in real life, but here they are only used for storytelling purposes and should not be taken as encouragement or promotion. thanks. kisses >⩊<

Your room was warm and quiet, lit only by the small lamp beside your bed while the rest of the apartment stayed dark and still around you. You had been half asleep for almost twenty minutes already, curled comfortably under your blanket with your phone abandoned somewhere near your pillow, your eyes barely able to stay open anymore.

Then suddenly, loud knocking echoed through the apartment.

You flinched awake immediately, heart jumping as the sound repeated again, louder this time. For a second you just stared at the ceiling in confusion before slowly pushing the blanket off yourself and getting out of bed.

Who even knocks like that this late at night?

You dragged your feet toward the door sleepily, fixing your oversized shirt a little before unlocking it.

The moment the door opened, Martin almost stumbled inside first.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed dramatically.

Then you saw Seonghyeon beside him.

And immediately froze.

His hair was completely messy, falling over his eyes unevenly like someone had been running their hands through it all night, and his hoodie hung off one shoulder slightly while he stood there swaying just enough for you to notice. His cheeks were flushed pink, eyes half lidded and unfocused, and the second he looked at you, his entire expression softened instantly.

You blinked in surprise. “Is he drunk?”

“Very,” Martin answered instantly.

Seonghyeon frowned slightly beside him. “I’m not that drunk.”

“You almost cried because they changed the music,” Martin deadpanned.

“I liked that song.”

Martin rolled his eyes before looking back at you.

“He would not shut up about wanting to come see you.” He pointed toward Seonghyeon with complete exhaustion. “Like genuinely. Every five seconds it was your name over and over again.”

Your eyes moved back to Seonghyeon automatically and he just stared at you quietly, blinking slowly.

“He missed you,” Martin added teasingly.

Seonghyeon immediately hid part of his face inside his sleeve and you could not help smiling a little.

Martin sighed dramatically again before carefully grabbing Seonghyeon by the shoulders and moving him toward you.

“Here. He’s your problem now.”

The second Seonghyeon reached you, he leaned against you almost instantly, his weight warm and heavy against your shoulder.

Martin pointed at him seriously.

“Do not let him drink again because he’s either gonna ruin the party or start confessing his feelings to random furniture.”

“I was not talking to furniture,” Seonghyeon mumbled.

“You thanked a lamp.”

“That’s because it looked nice.”

You laughed quietly before Martin started walking backward toward the elevator again.

“Good luck,” he called out. “And seriously, keep him alive.”

Then he disappeared.

Leaving you alone with your extremely drunk boyfriend clinging to your shoulder.

For a moment Seonghyeon just stayed there quietly, arms loosely around your waist while his forehead rested against the side of your head.

“You smell nice,” he murmured suddenly.

You smiled despite yourself. “Thank you.”

His grip tightened slightly like he was making sure you were real.

“Missed you.”

The words came out so soft and honest that your chest hurt a little.

“You saw me this morning,” you whispered.

“Still missed you.”

God.

You carefully guided him inside before closing the door behind you, and the second you did, he immediately followed you around the apartment like a lost puppy while you prepared things for him.

You grabbed comfortable clothes from your drawer, placing them neatly inside the bathroom before turning the shower on slightly so the water could warm up.

“You need to shower first,” you told him gently.

Seonghyeon stood beside the sink watching you quietly, looking impossibly tired and clingy at the same time.

Then suddenly he moved closer.

Enough that you had to tilt your head up to look at him properly because of the obvious height difference between you two. Even drunk, he somehow still carried that naturally soft presence around you, except now it felt less controlled.

Needier.

His arms slid around your waist slowly before he leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder, practically folding himself against you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around the back of his neck carefully, fingers brushing softly through the messy hair at the nape of it.

“It’s okay, babe,” you whispered. “You’re okay.”

He made a quiet sound against your shoulder, almost like a hum.

You smiled slightly. “Was this your first time drinking?”

After a small pause, he nodded.

That made your smile grow instantly.

Of course it was.

Everything suddenly made sense now. The clinginess. The nonstop honesty. 

You gently rubbed circles against the back of his neck while he stayed there holding you silently.

Then after a few seconds, he spoke again.

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

He lifted his head slightly just enough to look at you properly, eyes heavy and unfocused but still impossibly soft.

“I love you so much.”

Your heart almost stopped.

Before you could even answer, he leaned down and kissed you.

Harder than usual.

Desperate in a way that completely caught you off guard because Seonghyeon was normally shy with affection, always hesitating before kisses, always getting embarrassed after holding your hand for too long.

But now he kissed you like he could not help himself.

Like every thought in his head had disappeared except you.

You could taste the alcohol faintly against his lips, sweet and bitter at the same time, but you barely noticed because of how tightly he held you.

One of his hands moved up your back slowly while he kissed you again, deeper this time, and your fingers tightened instinctively behind his neck as your breathing started getting uneven.

When he finally pulled back slightly for air, his forehead rested against yours for barely a second before he leaned in again immediately.

Another kiss.

Then another.

Your brain felt completely scrambled by the sudden affection.

“Babe,” you murmured breathlessly against his lips, barely managing to speak between kisses. “Calm down.”

The second the words left your mouth, he stopped immediately.

His eyes widened slightly like he just realized what he was doing.

“Sorry,” he whispered instantly.

You blinked up at him, still breathless.

He looked genuinely flustered now despite being drunk, his cheeks flushed deeper pink than before.

“You just…” He swallowed softly. “You drive me crazy.”

Your stomach flipped painfully.

A small laugh escaped you before you could stop it and you shook your head slightly, still holding onto him.

“I think you’re really drunk.”

“I know.”

But he clearly did not care.

Instead he just hugged you closer again, hiding his face against your shoulder like he suddenly got shy all over again after saying too much.

Which somehow made the whole thing even cuter.

Eventually, after a lot of convincing and helping him not trip over literally nothing, you managed to get him showered and into clean clothes.

By the time you both finally crawled into bed, the apartment had gone completely silent again.

Seonghyeon immediately moved toward you the second he laid down, arms wrapping around your waist while he pulled you close against his chest like he physically could not sleep otherwise.

His face buried itself into your neck comfortably, warm breaths brushing softly against your skin while one of his legs tangled lazily with yours under the blanket.

You smiled quietly in the darkness, fingers brushing gently through his damp hair.

“Better?” you whispered.

He nodded sleepily against your shoulder.

Then after a few seconds, his voice came out soft and tired.

“Still love you.”

Your chest hurt again in the best way possible.

You pressed a small kiss against his forehead before cuddling closer into him, listening to his breathing slowly even out as exhaustion finally took over both of you.

[hollyoongs]

⤷ HE WAS A PUNK, SHE DID BALLET

시놉시스 ┆ garage boyband leader!𝒎ar𝘁͟in, ─────⠀preppy f! reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +15k (17.450 and I'm not even sorry, I ate this one up!) ꒰ ⌗ coming of age, slice of life, attempts of rom-com, fluff, and one-sided enemies to lovers ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

─────⠀slow burn rivals to lovers, mutual pining (hidden under sarcasm), high school setting (South Korea in the big 2004, and i think i kinda pulled off the correct amount of good cringe), band boy x class president dynamic, emotional tension, academic pressure, family conflict (parental slap + divorces), music as love language, heartfelt confessions, teasing + banter, teenage rebellion, emotional vulnerability, light touching (no explicit sexual content), implied attraction, healing through love.

EXTRAS !: PLAY THAT BEAT (Martin's songs for you) ───── FROM MY HEART (Your songs for Martin's) ───── I CAN WAIT FOR US

“Prez! Over here!” 

Your nickname cut through the hallway, followed by the hand wave he was doing alongside a smile. Some students who were there glanced, waving less energetically than Yujin—everyone knew you as the 2 time class president. You pulled your bag higher on your shoulder, waving through clusters of lovely outfits, mostly ignoring the flyers taped on every wall: cram school promotions, mock exam countdown, “join the club” posters already, and one for a half-torn band audition, the ink smudged like whoever put it there didn’t even care.

Due to being the last first day of school, you spoke to the school headmaster to have permission to drop the uniforms and wear an outfit, which allowed you to be the only student to give a motivational speech in the gymnasium, but seeing how everyone was comfortable showing their identity through clothes, despite the already packed senior schedule that we will face ahead.

Senior year wasn’t going to be kind; the past students let you all know that.

“That’s a cute outfit.” You playfully did a princess bow, the outfit that you pulled the night before consisted of a white collared button-up shirt under your fitted, long-sleeve blue sweater, covering perfectly your exposed abdomen that your denim mini skirt showed. It was cinched in with a chunky black belt and some white socks with black shoes with a little bit of heel. 

“Thank you, Yujin. You don’t look bad, either.” He spun dramatically in place, making his backpack bounce.

“Please. My mom picked this outfit. I had to wear it, otherwise she wouldn’t let me go to our karaoke tradition.” He opened his backpack, pulling out strawberry milk.

“You’re the absolute best,” you said, stabbing the straw through the foil and taking a sip without hesitation.

“So, how was your vacation?” 

“It was good. I went to the beach for a week before going to visit colleges with my mom.” he gave a dramatic sigh.

“She is more obsessed with your future than you.” You raised your shoulders, way too used to his words. 

“Well, sadly, I have to go along with—”

“Yah, Han Yujin!” The wall made that scream bounce, creating an echo where the two of you froze. As a matter of fact, everybody there did; you saw the unforgettable figure of your friend Leeseo running to you two, and you looked to your right to see the face of pure fear on Yujin’s face. 

“What have you done?” you whispered, before he could speak. Leeseo was already trying to hit him. His hands went to your shoulder, and he started using you as a shield.

“Leeseo, stop!” you gasped, trying to wriggle out of Yujin’s grip.

“Oh, hi there, Y/N. Can you please move? I want to kick his ass.” It was comical how everything was going down, cameras shutting off as they captured the first banter of the duo. You decided to enter the class, and a spot near the desk and next to the window was your favorite.

“Leeseo—ouch! Wait!” Both of them entered as she finally left him alone after she gave a pretty hard smack on his back. Leeseo sat next to you, and Yujin took the spot behind you two.

“You idiot, why didn't you tell me that Martin is back?!” Her whisper made your ear raise at the name.

“I didn’t spend time here; I went to the countryside to visit my grandma. How do you know?”

“Because he was getting scolded by the teacher at the entrance.”

“Nothing new, then,” you spoke before you could think. You placed your pencil case and notebook on your desk. Leeseo’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide as if what you just said was the dumbest thing ever.

“Nothing new? Y/N, he was supposed to go to Canada for his senior year; he even spoke about it.”

“Now that you said that,” Yujin put his strawberry milk on his table, leaning between you two. “Yesterday, when I was leaving out to do the groceries for mom, Martin and his dad were discussing it; it looked pretty heated.” 

“Oh great, the menace is back.” You keep your eyes focused on what you were writing in your notebook, which consisted mostly of a to-do list of the day.

“Why do you act like this news is a normal Tuesday’s cafeteria menu?”

“Because that’s exactly what it is. Martin gets in trouble like he has been doing for the past couple of years, the teacher yells, and the earth spins. What else is new?”

Yujin chuckled, “Careful tho. Keep talking like that, and he might think you missed him.”

You whipped around, smacking the back of his head with enough power to bother him. “Don’t even joke.”

People kept entering the classroom, some were going straight to their friend group, others to get ready, and a few simply lay on the desk to sleep for a few minutes before the usual first day announcement. 

You grabbed your small makeup pouch so you could go to the restroom, standing in the middle sink and smiling at your polished reflection. Pulling the gloss, you painted your lips with a thin layer of gloss, the mascara was next to give volume to your eyelashes, and finally, some blush on your cheeks. 

When you were satisfied, you left the bathroom, fixing your pouch, crashing with someone, and dropping everything inside them, you could bet your blush was broken into pieces. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said, bowing as you rushed to at least some of the remains. 

"I can't believe the school role model is wearing makeup, breaking the rules already?" you sighed, still picking up your stuff, your mood completely dropping. 

"I take that back, I'm not sorry." You finally got up and looked at what was supposed to be Martin's height last year, your neck hurting slightly as you looked a little more up. Leeseo was right, he got unbelievably tall.

He was wearing a band tee with ripped jeans that looked twice his size, hanging on his hips like they were holding on for dear life. Scuffed Vans dragged slightly as he shifted his weight, the hoodie unzipped and frayed at the sleeves. His hair looked like he’d rolled out of bed on purpose, and the faint smirk tugging at his lips only made it worse.

The outfit made you know that he would be the reason for your headaches for another year.

“Martin Edwards,” you said flatly, clutching your pouch like it was armor.

“Still bowing to people in hallways. How cute,” he drawled back, his smirk spreading slowly with his hand shoved into his hoodie pocket.

“Still getting yelled at by teachers on the first day. How predictable.” You stepped sideways, but he shifted too, blocking your path with a lazy lean against the wall, watching you close your eyes, irritated.

“You know that I can’t help it if they’ve missed me.” He tilted his head. “Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

Your laugh came out louder than intended, calming down quickly. “Please. The place was finally quiet without you.”

“Quiet’s overrated.” You could see how his eyes flicked down, lingering on the glossy shine of your lips, making you look down briefly. “Besides, you look better with noise around.”

He leaned in slightly so you were the only one hearing. “Come on, Prez. Admit it. You missed me.”

“I miss the news of you moving to Canada.” You scoffed, you looked at his eyes, and you could see how that challenging look disappeared for a second.

“Damn.” He pressed a hand over his chest like you’d shot him. “Still ruthless with the comebacks. What happened to the sweet, polite, and lovely person?”

“She’s still here, she just doesn’t like you,” you shot back, already making your way out. He appeared next to you, the height difference even more noticeable. You stopped on your tracks, him copying you after. 

It was your turn to step forward, your chin high, although it didn’t make you look intimidating. “You’re going to make this year miserable, aren’t you?”

“Depends on how much attention you give me, pretty,” he said easily, the nickname rolling off his tongue like it was nothing, turning the tip of your ears slightly warm.

Before you could say something, the bell overhead rang, echoing through the hallway. The students started invading the hallways, brushing past the two of you with curious eyes.

You exhaled, finally brushing past him to go to your class to hide the pouch, coming back to see him waiting outside the class. “I’m making one thing clear. Give me some free time for our teachers scolding me because of you, I don’t want that on my record.”

You marched your way with your class, heels softly clicking. 

“Can’t promise that, Prez!” His voice followed you down the hall.

It was official, this was going to be a long senior year.

Four months passed like a blur, and just like you predicted, everything stacked up to you. Not even a week in, and the classes and teachers nominated you to be the president of the school council. You were about to give up that opportunity for the sake of a slightly peaceful year, but when your mom heard about it, she forced you to keep it, not turning back even when your dad tried to talk her through it. 

The school was quick to give you a list of activities you and the committee had to plan, and because of your last events as class president, students were quick to say the same sentence.

“We are having a prom AND a school trip? Y/N, you’re the best!”

Normally, the country itself wasn’t exactly used to having a prom the way other countries did, renting movies to watch on a Friday night was enough to plant the idea in every senior’s head, even yours, not believing that you were the one supposed to make it happen. Thankfully, the first big event on the calendar wasn’t prom—but the spring school trip.

With the help of Yujin’s mom, we secured a short trip of two nights in Gyeongju for the last week of October. 

It was 7 pm, and you were walking back home with the rented DVD of 10 Things I Hate About You, ready to drown in ramen and your blankets. The reason? You were tired of council meetings, study schedules, and Martin already racking up three warnings from teachers.

“Why are you in pajamas?” Leeseo surprised you by being in front of your house. 

“Because I’m staying at home…?” Your sentence sounded more like a question than you wanted it to, especially because Leeseo was standing at your gate with her backpack.

“Wrong answer,” she said, shoving past you. “Your mom thinks you’re staying at my house for a study-slash-sleepover. I’m telling you, she almost hugged me when I told her we are even reviewing college math problems.”

“What? Leeseo, I’m in pajamas. I bought snacks! I’m committed to my bed tonight.”

“You can change, and the snacks can wait.” She plopped the backpack on your bedroom floor before going straight to your closet, pulling out outfits that seemed fitting to fool your mom even more. “I’m not letting you waste your Friday night watching Heath Ledger for the 100th time.”

“Shut up.”

She threw your pink cardigan in your face. “Come on, your mom needs to see you leave like we are going to church."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“Call me if anything happens, okay?” You nodded at your mom before she lightly hugged you. “Thank you for doing this, darling. I know you will match my baby’s commitment to college.”

Leeseo bowed down while you tried to hide your face, your head by lowering it. “Anything to get that 100, I will bring her tomorrow!”

You two started walking out, feeling the gaze of your mom behind you. “When we turn around here, Yujin and his brother are waiting for us.”

And just like she said, Hanbin and Yujin were there, opening the car right when they saw you two. “Were you two creating a summer season collection?”

“Quiet, Yujin. Hi Hanbin,” you said. Hanbin simply smiled at you.

“Where now, to our house?” Hanbin spoke, this time looking at Leeseo.

“Yes, we need to change her clothes,” you said, looking at her, confused.

“But why? I think it’s cute.” You looked down, a pink polo shirt layered under a pastel cable-knit sweater, khaki skirt, and pearl studs.

“Don’t get me wrong, it is cute, but it looks like you will hold a mass on the dance floor.” Now you laughed, already feeling at ease when the wind touched your face. “And then to Martin’s”

Once again, the mood turned down. “Wait—Martin? As in Martin Edwards?”

“Yes. Keonho texted me, and he said his mom’s gone, and his band has their amps set up in the garage. Apparently, half of the school’s going.” Yujin said, and that’s when you looked at Leeseo, who was actively trying to avoid your face.

“Oh my god! I love this song, turn it up, Hanbin!” she screamed.

The car ride to Hanbin’s house wasn’t long. Yujin’s house was empty when you arrived. Leeseo didn’t waste a second—the soft outfit was already in her backpack, so you can wear the black cropped baby tee with a rhinestone butterfly, a pleated low-rise denim skirt, and a chunky studded belt. Your makeup is slightly altered with the use of eyeliner, but since it was a style you have secretly wanted to try for a while, you enjoyed it. 

Leeseo opened the door of Yujin’s room. The second you stepped out, both brothers gasped. You rolled your eyes with your face burning at the attention. 

“Now that outfit is the one that will take your mom to a coma,” Yujin said. Hanbin punched him softly, and you simply laughed.  

It took a few steps to arrive there since they were neighbors, and the bass from the garage was already rattling the pavement. Cars were parked crooked along the curb, kids were sitting on the front lawn with red cups, and some of them, who you recognized as graduates, were drunk.

“This looks safe,” you muttered. Leeseo slipped her arm through yours.

“Relax, it’s just a party. Besides, Martin’s band is playing. It will be good.”

You rolled your eyes. “Martin’s band will probably sound like three lawnmowers in a blender.”

“That’s kind of the point.” 

The smell of cheap soju mixed with hairspray lingered in the air; there were some Christmas lights strung along the ceiling, casting the whole space in a warm glow. You moved between people to grab something to drink from the table. 

“Noona?” 

You turned around, half-expecting another stranger with either a can of soda or a red cup. Instead, it was Keonho—well, another version that was surely not the one you used to watch on council meetings.

It was almost comical the way your eyes widened at the same time, like you were looking at two entirely different people from the ones you’d last seen in pressed uniforms.

“...Keonho?” you blinked, scanning him from head to toe. “What are you wearing?”

Baggy jeans sagging low on his hips, showing a part of his boxers, a chain clinking against his belt loop, oversized sneaker, and a graphic tee layered under a half-zipped hoodie. His gel-free hair was messy, kinda like he came out of an MTV music video. He looked good, you had to admit.

Keonho gawked back at you with the same disbelief. “Me? Noona, look at your outfit.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, suddenly becoming hyperaware of your fit.

You crossed your arms defensively. “At least I don’t look like I lost a fight with my closet… but you look good, I guess.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fair. But still… wow. Didn’t think you could look like that. It suits you.”

Before you could thank him, the garage speakers squealed as the music turned down. Keonho’s grin widened instantly. “Anyways, you have to come listen. Cortis is next.”

You arched a brow. “Cortis?”

“The band I joined!” he said, a happy smile showing his pride. “James is on drums, Juhoon’s rhythm, Seonghyeon on keys, I’m bass.”

“Oh, all of you sing?” you asked, following his steps to the garage.

“Sometimes, but the main singer—”

“What’s up, School of Performing Arts of Seoul!” Martin's voice resonated all over the place, the crowd screaming in response. 

“Keonho.”

“I know you don’t like him at all, but listen to us for a moment, we practiced a lot.” he did a small pout, you had to nod to see him smiling, and run to his bass. 

You scanned the group, eyes stopping on Martin, his guitar strap slung low and standing front and center.

“Thanks for being here. We’re Cortis, and we will do something old since classics never die.”

They surprised you by opening with a familiar riff of one of your favorite bands, blink-182. “All the small things” made the whole garage shake with the force of it, and you had to admit it—it didn’t sound half bad. They were all completely lost in their performance and interacting with people in the crowd who were busy nodding their heads and screaming their names.

The song ended, and the five boys were sweat-slicked and breathless, quickly grabbing a can of soda to quench their thirst. Martin left for a moment, arriving soon after to connect an acoustic guitar to the amps.

You audibly gasped when the familiar melody hit your eardrums. “Wonderwall”. 

You moved through the crowd to get a clearer view, spotting Leeseo and Yujin by the first rows, both singing along dramatically the wrong lyrics—you didn’t mean to reveal your love for rock music there, but after securing your spot next to your friends, your body moved first, soon the lyrics easily feel off your lips like you’d been waiting for that exact song all night, far away from your mother.

For the first time, you let yourself loose. They weren’t perfect; the performance itself was pretty raw to the point that the energy could be felt all over the place. Martin looked up mid-chorus, eyes landing on you. You could see how his eyes opened at the view of you enjoying the chaos he was creating. It felt like the noise dimmed, even just for a second, before he went back to singing his heart out.

The night stretched on with more covers, every single one better than the one before. Eventually, the closeness got too much, making you slip through the crowd and push the back door open, stepping outside after grabbing a can of soda. The cool night air hit your face like a relief, although the sound of crickets filling the silence that the muffled music left behind wasn’t exactly your cup of tea.

You exhaled, leaning against the side of the house, closing your eyes for a moment, finally feeling a little sense of peace after what was probably the longest year so far.

“You hiding, Prez?”

You startled, spinning around to see Martin also leaning against the railing, hair damp with sweat, a crooked smile painted across his face. Even outside, he carried the same reckless kind of confidence that made people look twice. 

“Not hiding,” you said flatly. “Just avoiding the noise pollution.”

“Funny that you say that, knowing how much you enjoyed back there.” His smile grew at the sight of you trying to play it cool.

You scoffed lightly, crossing your arms. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just… surprised you didn’t completely butcher the songs.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled, pushing off the railing to stand a little closer. “You’re tough to impress.”

“That’s not new information.” 

For a brief moment, he didn’t say anything — just looked at you. “Didn’t think I’d see you at one of my shows,” he said, quieter this time.

“Me neither. I didn’t think you’d still be here,” you said, the words coming out before you could even stop yourself. “Wasn’t Canada calling your name?”

You stood there waiting for a silly comment like he always does, just to see your irritating face. But there was nothing but silence, and you were smart enough to know you messed up.

He let out a soft laugh, a bitter one. “Yeah, it was.”

Your silence was a cue for him to continue, which even made you question why you suddenly wanted to hear the rest.

“My dad wanted me there, to finish high school there, the same high school he graduated from,” he said. “Said it’s ‘set me for the future.’, but while he was setting me up, he was setting someone else up too. In another country.”

You froze, for the first time, not having an answer to talk back.

“My mom knew,” he added. “She knew the whole time and just… kept living like nothing happened. So I decided to stay with the person I’m less angry at—while making him angry enough that I like music.”

"He wanted you to be something else when you graduated?"

"Electric engineer. Just like him, so I can help with his company." 

You suddenly remember the article that the principal showed one time — Edward Industries’ CEO invests in youth innovation — and the photo of Martin’s father shaking hands with people, smiling like his world was perfect.

“That’s… a lot to live up to and process,” you said quietly.

“Well, you know I’m not great at following instructions.” His lips twitched, but his usual smirk didn’t quite form this time.

You took a sip of the last part of the soda, swallowing it. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know you hate me enough to not care.”

Your breath caught at the way he said it, like it wasn't a joke, but that stung a part of you. You look at him and, for the first time in your eyes, he doesn’t look untouchable or smug. He looked tired.

“I’m so sorry, Martin,” you said softly.

“Don’t be. I’d rather be here playing and producing music with the boys and annoying you.”

You let out a small laugh. “You’re doing a great job at both.”

“Y/N! Are you here?!” 

You both turned toward the sound of Yujin’s scream echoing faintly from the other side of the yard. Flashlights from someone’s phone swung through the dark as your friends searched for you.

“Your friends are calling you,” Martin said, stating the obvious. You ran a hand through your hair and twisted it into a messy low bun. He watched the motion quietly, cheeks warming before he could stop himself.

You met his gaze again. “Good night, Martin.”

“Night, Prez.” He added, finally smiling a little bit. 

You started to walk away, then paused mid-step to look back over your shoulder.

“I don’t hate you,” you said. “I just hate that the only thing that damages my school profile is your warnings.”

He let out a chuckle, for real this time, his mouth now doing his familiar grin. “Then I guess I’m doing you a favor. Give your résumé some personality.” 

You blinked, completely caught off guard, before a laugh escaped you, making his grin widen.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” he said, though the lack of bite in the tone betrayed him, too focused on the happiness that you radiated outside the school.

From a distance, Yujin called your name again, his voice half-drowned by the music. You turned to glance at the noise, still smiling as you stepped back.

Martin stayed where he was, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you go, putting his hand on his chest to calm it down a bit at the sudden racing of it.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · Sitting again at your desk felt like hell. The summer break had been a blur, and what you wished to do the most—relaxing, catching up on your TV shows, and simply not thinking too much about high school—was replaced by college prep books and an endless to-do list dictated by your mother. You manage to sneak out with Leeseo and Yujin only once.

Long story short, you were practically glued to your desk. So the return to school felt more like a choker pressing even tighter around your neck.

“You guys won’t believe what I just saw!” Yujin entered the room, slamming the door closed before running to your spot.

“Yujin, tone it down! Drink some.” You gave him your water, practically chugging it down to ease his thirst.

“Thank you, I came here running as fast as I could.” 

“Couldn’t tell." The sarcasm in Leeseo’s voice made him narrow his eyes at her. “Say what you saw.” 

Before he could, the door slid open again, and a collective gasp rippled through the classroom.

Martin.

But it was Martin wearing the school uniform properly. Key word: properly. White shirt tucked in, tie actually knotted, blazer neat. The only nods to his usual style were a thick, silver ring on his index finger and the slight, purposeful messiness of his hair that framed his face.

He dropped his backpack onto his usual seat in the back, then strolled casually toward the front to grab a new syllabus. On the way back, he caught Yujin’s eye.

“Morning, Han, Leeseo, Prez.” he nodded coolly, taking a seat on the empty spot.

“That’s what I saw,” he whispered, wide-eyed.

Far from being discreet, Leeseo was already studying Martin, who was playing dumb and doing random poses. “I hate this. Bring back your ‘I hate the system’ attitude right now. That’s my only entertainment in this school.”

Martin looked up, grinning. “Can’t. I’m going for the rebrand. Gotta keep the audience guessing.”

You kept your eyes fixed on your notebook, pretending to write down something important, and you were hyper-aware of the space he occupied beside you.

Then came the knock on the wood right next to your pencil case. “Do I look good, Prez?”

When you finally risked a glance at him, it was enough to have the class eyes on both of you, especially his bold yet teasing stare. 

“You look like a normal student. Congratulations.”

The bell rang, and everyone began shuffling to their seats. Martin kneeled in front of you and leaned near enough to whisper, “Thank you, princess.” 

Yujin choked with the water again, and Leeseo was just there, wide-eyed and jaw on the floor. You froze, brain stuttering to find something coherent to say after that. It was well known that you hated nicknames like that, but why are you feeling your cheeks warming up so fast? The class started whispering. 

Days passed, but something about him had shifted.

He still sat in the back (mostly because of his height), still wore that lazy smirk when teachers called his name, but between the sarcasm and the half-lidded stares out the window, you caught him writing. Even more, he divided the notebook into two, where he had both school material and lyrics alongside some guitar chords. Once, you even saw the corner of a paper titled “CORTIS - Set Ideas!!” when you were delivering lesson papers.

He wasn’t slacking off anymore. He was trying.

And since he was trying, the warnings of your bad leadership were almost nonexistent. And it was weird, mostly because you didn’t know how to feel about it.

By the second week, the girls' bathroom was starting to fill with rumors.

“Cortis is joining the Battle of the Bands next month! I’m going to support Juhoon.” “Keonho and Seonghyeon are the youngest people to be there.” “If they go and win, they will break Hamlin's streak of three years.”

You overheard it all, pretending not to listen, but it was inevitable, the emotions for everyone there, since it’s their big “gig”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

At home, though, things stop being simple. Your mother had entered one of her “planning phases,” consisting of color-coded schedules of times to study for the college entrance exam, college catalogs spread across your desk.

“Mother, I’m home,” you screamed. You heard the footsteps of your mother coming from the kitchen. She even has more college catalogs in her hands.

“Y/N, I made a decision. You're going to apply for early admission.” You stopped, looking at her in confusion.

“I thought we agreed that I would not do that.”

“You need to focus. You have the grades; now you need the commitment. No distractions,” she reminded you for the fourth time that week. 

"Mother, I have all my study schedules already, and I'm on track for the mock exams. I'm literally planning the school's social calendar while keeping my GPA up. What more commitment do you need that you found the need to make that decision without consulting me?” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” she snapped, the papers in her hands hitting the table with a dull thud. “I know what’s best for your future. You don’t. You think organizing dances and trips for your classmates is going to help you get into Seoul National?”

You clenched your fists. “It’s not about that! It’s about the fact that you don’t trust me to handle my own life!”

“You’re seventeen, Y/N. You don’t even know what you’ll want in five years!”

“Because you’ve never given me the chance to figure it out!” you shot back before you could stop yourself, your voice breaking slightly. 

“I’m going to college and not mess it up like you!” Your mother’s palm slapped sharply on your cheek. 

“What’s going on here?!” Your father’s voice came from the hallway. You hadn’t even realized he’d arrived. But you didn’t care.

You pushed past him, tears already blurring your vision as you ran out the door. You could hear him calling your name, but his voice faded behind you, swallowed by the night air.

You didn’t care about your mom.

You didn’t care about the neighbors staring as you rushed down the street, barefoot in house slippers.

You didn’t care about the way your chest tightened with every breath you took.

You just ran.

And when your legs finally gave out, you found yourself in a quiet park. The street lights flickered faintly, the world spinning around you.

Your knees hit the ground first. Then came the sobs. You pressed your palms to the dirt as your body trembled, the sound of your breathing broken and uneven. For once, you couldn’t hold it in.

The pressure, the expectations, the endless need to be perfect, it all cracked open at once. You barely noticed the screams of a familiar tune until a shadow moved a few meters away.

“Y/N! Are you here?!” Martin’s voice didn’t even make you look up at him. The footsteps grew closer until you felt his presence. “God, what’s wrong—”

Your arms wrapped around him, crying even harder. The bag he’d been holding slipped from his hand, hitting the grass with a muffled thud. A few things rolled out, forgotten. 

He froze for half a second before his arms carefully wrapped around you as well.

“Hey… hey,” he murmured, voice low. “You’re okay.”

You shook your head against his chest, your sobs muffled by his hoodie. “No. I’m not. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just held you there as you cried, his hand moving slowly up and down your back. The only sounds were your uneven breaths and the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

When you finally started to calm, he shifted slightly. Your eyes analyzed his face, the worry etched across his face—the kind you didn’t expect from him.

“Did someone hurt you?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard, voice breaking slightly, “My mother.”

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking briefly to the faint redness on your cheek. You saw the flash of anger there. “There’s a bench there, go sit there.”

You did what he said, and when he came to sit next to you after picking up the stuff. He pulled a strawberry milk and gave it to you, thanking him.

“I saw you running,” he said. “I was leaving the supermarket, and I just followed. It looked like you were about to disappear.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t.” His voice softened immediately. “You don’t have to apologize for crashing out.”

You drank up the milk, sighing after.

“I’m just so tired, Martin.”

“I know.” He glanced up at the night sky for a moment. “You don’t have to keep proving you can handle everything. You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes.”

You gave a small laugh. “That’s not really on my schedule.”

“Then it’s time to break it,” he said simply, his tone somewhere between teasing and kind. 

That actually pulled a real laugh from you and a faint smile from Martin. His hand brushed the dirt off his uniform pants before doing the same with your knees. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’ll just sit here.”

You nodded, eyes still wet but calmer. “Thanks for following me, I guess.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Though next time, please don’t make me drop all my groceries.”

You two stayed there for a while; neither of you said anything. You just sat there sharing peace, a feeling none of you felt in a long time, and for different situations.

The night air had cooled a little by the time you both stood up from the bench.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the road. “I’ll walk you home before your dad sends a search party.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. The street was almost empty as you walked side by side, your steps slow and the sound of cicadas blending with the quiet, distant buzz of traffic.

“Again, I’m really sorry,” you said after a couple of steps. “I must have been a burden to you today.”

Martin glanced at you, his expression unreadable in the streetlight glow. “You needed someone to find you. That’s all.”

After a few more quiet steps, you sighed, kicking at a pebble on the pavement. “It’s just not my mother. Everything’s been… too much. The prom planning, the trip, the mock exams—it’s like I can’t breathe without having something due.”

Martin chuckled softly. “Leave it to you to get stressed about fun things.”

“They’re only fun when people actually help,” you said, exasperated. “Even if the committee is completely involved in those two things, the principal is bothering me. I’ve been running back and forth with the school board about budget approvals, and I swear, if one more teacher calls me responsible like it’s a compliment, I’m going to scream.”

“Then scream. I’ll join you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You? You’d probably turn it into a song.”

“Maybe I already did.”

You looked up at him, but he just shrugged. “We’re working on something for the Battle of the Bands,” he said. “Prize money isn't bad. Thinking of donating it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Donating? Since when are you that noble?”

“Since I found out how expensive renting a DJ, using massive decorations, and the food is,” he said, giving you a sideways glance. “Keonho is stressed with that too, and we figured if we win, we’ll put some of the money toward your prom fund.”

You blinked, taken aback. “You’d do that?”

“For the school,” he confirmed, but the grin that followed made it impossible to believe him. “Well… mostly for you.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head in disbelief. “And what exactly do you get out of that deal?”

He took a moment before answering, kicking at the pavement as if he were debating whether to say it. “A date.”

You stopped walking. “A what?”

“A date,” he repeated, meeting your eyes. “With you. Just one.”

You stared at him, heart skipping in that annoying wait it always did around him lately. “You’re joking.”

“Not this time.” His voice had softened, “I’ve kinda liked you for a while, Y/N. Like, since sophomore year, a while”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The words and the mere sight of how he rubbed the back of his neck with the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks were enough to really blow you away.

“You probably thought I was just being annoying all the time… That was me trying to get your attention without, you know, getting expelled for it.”

You blinked at him. “Two years?”

He nodded, starting to walk again. “Two very long and humbling years.”

You looked away at the back of his figure, hiding the small smile that tugged at your lips. Once you reached him, you focused on looking straight.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “Just… let me win first. Then decide.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I’m a ridiculous guy with a plan,” he said, lightly swinging his hips to move your body. 

You reached your gate a few minutes later. The house lights were still on, the silhouette of your dad faintly visible through the curtains.

When you stopped, so he did, taking a look at your place for the first time. “You gonna be okay?”

You nodded. “I think so.”

He smiled. “Good. Don’t disappear like that again, okay? I can’t keep rescuing the class president from emotional breakdowns.”

You smirked faintly. “And here I thought you liked being the hero.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Maybe I just like you.”

You froze at the words. You saw how he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“See you tomorrow, Prez.”

“Goodnight, Martin.”

He started walking away. You stood there for a moment, heart beating way too fast for someone who’d just survived a meltdown. Your feet started walking fast to where he was.

“Martin!” He stopped instantly, turning on his heel. The look on his face was equal parts concern and confusion, the grocery bag still dangling from one hand. 

You walked up to him, stopping close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin. Your hand reached for his tie, pulling him down gently. 

On your tiptoes, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m really thankful,” you murmured.

Neither of you moved. His eyes widened slightly before that boyish grin spread across his face, causing you to smile back. You stepped back quickly, cheeks burning, and darted toward the gate before he could say anything else.

Once inside, you shut it softly behind you, leaning against the cool metal to steady your racing heartbeat and touching your lips. Curiosity got the better of you, and you peeked through the small hole in the wall that your dad refused to fix.

Martin was still there, frozen in place, and soon enough, he pulled his fist to the sky while walking away, or more like dancing away, down the sidewalk. “Let’s go!” you heard the scream, and you bit your lip, stifling a laugh of your own.

October came fast, mostly because your parents decided on an uncontested divorce and your dad got the apartment downtown. Yujin jumped when he found out it’s five minutes away from his house. The place felt quieter; your mother had thrown herself into work, and you into whatever kept you from thinking too much: school, council duties, and, against all odds, CORTIS.

Somehow, Martin had managed to stop getting detention every other week. He still mouthed off at the teachers sometimes, wore his ring and the smirk, but he wasn’t the same boy who used to skip class just to nap on the rooftop.

It was truly impressive, you saw how he actually took notes during math, how he waited for everyone after band practice instead of just storming off, how he asked the teacher questions about topics, and even delivered small notes on your desk, ones that make you happy, as if it was a normal thing to do.

Leeseo had caught all that and more, dedicating his free time to watching you watching him, whispering, “You’re so done for,” grinning and doing a couple of mimics with Yujin.

But of course, you denied it every time. 

Because no one needs to know that you were actually falling for him.

Still, when the last high school exam ended, everyone started spilling out of the classrooms, screaming “freedom!” the second the bell rang for the end of the day. Everyone stood up joyfully, and from the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Martin coming your way, a bag lazily hanging on his shoulder.

“Everybody listen up!” Yujin shouted, standing on top of a chair and waving his arms dramatically. “Today, it’s the Band of Battles. Let’s all go and support our beautiful high school and CORTIS as a last act of love to this place!” 

The whole class erupted in cheers, the rest of the students clapping at his words like he said something revolutionary.

Yujin’s friend, Gunwook, jumped onto a chair too, holding up his hand to point at Martin. “Martin, as the leader, pick a color so we can dress up.” 

Martin posed theatrically, pretending to think it through before his eyes looked at you. His grin softened as soon as his fingers brushed the small red bow pinned in your hair.

“I like red today.” The whole class went wild, but his eyes simply scanned the redness that the tip of your ears caught. You tried to act unfazed, but the way he smirked at you made your stomach twist. 

His mouth went near your ear, “You can wear whatever you like, you look good in anything.”

By the time the noise died down, so did your heartbeat when he left the classroom, mouthing, “I’ll see you there”. Everyone had plans and was starting to spread the word before heading home to change and go to the event.

You, on the other hand, had to stay behind, for quite a while, actually. 

While your classmates flooded out of the building, already buzzing about the performance, you found yourself sitting across from the principal for more than an hour, finalizing the last details for the senior trip next week. Each little break, you looked up at the clock hanging on top of the wall, sighing in relief when he thanked you for your dedication, which was a nice way to say “you work too much” and finally let you go. You were already late, and you at least wanted to arrive one act before the boys.

The hallways were nearly empty now, sunlight slanting through the windows in soft orange streaks. You smiled faintly when you passed a whiteboard where someone had scrawled “CORTIS = Victory!” alongside other words of encouragement.

Your chest felt a little lighter reading it, even making you pull out your camera to snap a picture so you can show it to the band through Keonho later.

You were halfway down the front steps when you saw a woman standing outside the school gates, elegantly dressed in a cream coat and hair pinned neatly back. Without losing the beat of your quick steps, you continued until you felt a presence near you and soon, a hand on your shoulder that made you jump.

“Excuse me,” she called gently, laughing awkwardly at your reaction. “Are you Y/N?”

You hesitated before nodding, “Yes… Do I know you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Martin’s mom.”

You blinked before bowing down; you didn’t expect his mother to look that elegant yet have such an expression that felt oddly familiar.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I’m the one I should say that, darling. I’ve heard about you,” she said. “Martin speaks of you more than he probably realizes.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. “Thank you so much.”

“He’s changed lately,” she said. “He comes home earlier, studies, and seems steadier. And I know you might have something to do with that positive change.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. “Well, he’s been working hard in high school and for the band. You probably already know how much it means to him.”

Her smile faltered, just a tiny bit, before speaking again. “Yes, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“About the band?” you frowned, already thinking of what she was about to say.

“Music has always been a phase for him. His father has great plans, engineering, university abroad, to be specific. I was hoping you could talk to him, convince him to take his future seriously again.”

That’s the moment you went speechless. Your mind works ten times faster to choose your words carefully. “With all respect, Mrs. Park. I don't think it's a phase, and I won’t do that. At all.”

“I’m sorry?” she said, confusion flickering on her face.

“I’ve seen him when he’s performing,” you said. “When he’s practicing with the band, when he’s writing lyrics on the back of his notebook, he’s not pretending; he looks alive doing that. It's not just a distraction for him; it’s who he actually is.”

You could see how the first crack in her composure showed, lips parted. “You sound just like him.”

“Maybe that’s because you both underestimate how much he cares about what he does,” you vented. “I get that engineering might have been his father’s and your dream. But music as a whole makes him happy. Whether it’s producing or singing, that’s how he wants to live his life.”

There was a silence for a moment, so you took that moment to inhale briefly and continue.

"Martin listens to music when he’s feeling stressed. He’s not into literature, but he writes such good lyrics that you might even think he’s becoming some kind of poet. And the way he looks when he’s playing? That’s him in his element.”

The woman lowered her head, sighing. “I just don’t want him to throw his future away. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“Maybe this is his future, it just doesn’t look like the one you two pictured.”

 “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N,” she finally said.

“I’m just honest,” you replied, offering a small smile.

“That’s even rarer,” she murmured. “I can see why he—” she stopped herself, simply smiling again, “Thank you for being good to him.”

An idea came to you, the backpack that was on your shoulder ended in the middle of you two, taking away the pamphlet Seonghyeon and James had given to promote, and extended to her. “He’s a good person, Mrs. Park. And just like how you believe in him to achieve the engineering future, believe and trust him with his.”

You bowed slightly when she took the paper, walking away to catch the bus that would take you home. Thankfully, you arrived safely.

You kicked off your shoes at the entrance, calling out, “Dad, I’m home!” before leaning down to kiss his forehead as he read through a newspaper on the couch with his work clothes still on.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said with a smile. “You look busy.”

“Always!” you shouted, darting into your room.

They were still scattered with open notebooks and the faint scent of highlighter ink, stuff you’d temporarily promised yourself to forget tonight.

After the divorce, your dad had insisted on helping you “reclaim the place.” He’d driven you to buy new clothes, helped you hang posters, and even tolerated the sparkly beaded curtain you’d begged to put on your door. For the first time in months, the room looked like yours, not your mother’s version of perfection. 

You took the quickest shower and got dressed in record time, the white camisole layered under a cropped denim jacket, a mini skirt with a rhinestone belt, and your sports shoes. A knock on your door made you look away from the mirror.

“Come in!” you called, picking some blush on your brush to put it onto your cheeks.

Your dad peeked in, smiling softly as he stepped inside. “Are you still getting ready?”

“Almost done, thanks for driving me there,” you replied, setting down the brush.

He chuckled and sat on the edge of your bed, looking around and whistling. “Wow, you’re really made this place your own.”

You smiled at his reflection in the mirror proudly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You also seem different lately. Happier.”

“Maybe because exams are over, both of us are in a good place, and I’m finally hanging out with my friends. Which, by the way, I’m grateful for.”

“Well, you deserve them since you’ve always worked hard,” he smiled. You felt that shift when he was done, suddenly suffocating.

He watched you for a moment, a teasing glint in his eyes. “So… what do you want to ask?” you said, already suspicious.

“Now, why do you think that?” he asked, laughing when you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing him leaning forward with a grin on his face. “What’s his name?”

The mascara wand ended halfway to your lashes. “What's whose name?”

“The boy,” he said simply. “And don’t tell me there isn’t one. I’m not blind. You’ve been smiling more, playing music in your room, and I’m pretty sure he’s the same boy who brought you home that night.”

You covered your face, groaning, feeling your cheeks getting warmer with each second. “Dad, please.”

“So I’m right,” he said, amused that his dad instincts didn’t betray him. “What’s his name?”

The small silence was broken when you sighed softly. “Martin.”

Your dad nodded slowly. “Is that the boy who’s in that band you mentioned, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. “He’s their leader, and he has been studying with me since middle school. Kind of stubborn. Really annoying sometimes.”

“Huh—” you could tell by how he was clearly unconvinced. “And what makes him so annoying?”

You opened your mouth—ready to list something—but nothing came. Instead, what slipped out was, “He doesn’t quit. Even when everyone expects him to.”

Your dad hummed softly. 

“And when he talks about music,” you went on, your mind planting words in a second, “he gets this look… like the rest of the world just disappears, he’s in his own happy place.”

You paused, but somehow the words kept coming. “He’s also funny,” you admitted, taking your hairclips to fix your hair with a smile tugging at your lips. “Not the kind that tries hard, it’s like, half of the time he says something and you can’t even tell if it’s a joke or he’s being serious. It makes you laugh anyway.”

You stood up to pick some rings to match the outfit, continuing to speak. “He’s kind, pretends he doesn’t care, but he remembers things. He smiles with his whole face, and when there’s something  he likes, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“I thought you were saying something about him being annoying, right?”

Heat crept up your neck immediately. “I—That’s not—I didn’t mean—”

“Darling. It’s okay, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Oh my God, please stop talking.” You took your essentials quickly and ran to the front door, waiting in the car immediately. 

The drive was calm, the windows cracked open, making the October air carry faint echoes of music from blocks away. The sunset was painting the sky in streaks of pink and gold.

He glanced at you as they stopped at a red light. “Sounds like you really care about him. And so does he.”

“I guess I do,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“I would love to meet him properly sometime,” you were about to protest, but he shushed you quickly. “No ‘buts’”

“Fine.” You both arrived at the youth center quite fast. The road was already lined with parked cars, students who didn’t receive a ticket and decided to enjoy from outside, a handful of paparazzi, and a lot of security.

You heard your dad’s whistle under his breath. “Looks like the whole district showed up.”

“It really does.” You clutched your bag a little tighter.

He slowed the car near the entrance, smiling as he glanced at you. “Are you nervous?”

You shook your head quickly. “Maybe a little.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“I’m not performing,” you laughed a little, confused.

He grinned, a hand on top of your shoulder. “Didn’t say you were. But I have a feeling something might happen.”

You rolled your eyes, unbuckled your seatbelt, and checked one last time that you didn’t forget the vip ticket Martin left on your locker.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Tell me if you’re going somewhere else, and tell Martin I said good luck!”

“Dad!” You heard his laugh as you walked away, turning around to wave him off before stepping into the noise of the crowd after safely passing security, although you almost fell after a few of them tried to fight security.

The venue wasn’t really one, more like a repurposed parking lot with a stage at one end and strings of lights hanging overhead. Students from different schools packed the space, every single one was excited, waving balloons from side to side or a flashlight.

“Y/N!” Leeseo appeared right in front of you, hugging you, and Yujin arrived a little later. “You just missed like two acts, Hanlim was even better than last year!”

“How did your meeting go?” Yujin asked, and a smile was more than enough for them.

“The trip is completely done, there are no problems.”

“Finally!” Yujin grinned. “We deserve that trip; this year has been trash.”

“Not for Y/N, she finally has a crush,” she sang, Yujin and Leeseo start poking your sides. “You know Martin’s going to show off.”

You rolled your eyes. “He always does.”

But your pulse quickened anyway when the stage lights flickered to red and you saw the MC going to the center of the stage, gaining a scream from the crowd.

“What a performance from Hanlim!” she said. A roar of cheers from a group of students startled you. “Let’s keep this energy up for the next group, from SOPA… give it up for CORTIS!”

The boys walked to the stage, the excitement and screams from the place feeding them. James settled behind the drums, spinning a stick in one hand. Juhoon adjusted his guitar strap, Seonghyeon’s fingers danced over the keys to test it, and Keonho flashed his familiar grin from behind his bass.

Then Martin walked out.

Graphic tee with layered chains, jeans slouching low, sneakers unlaced. Stage lights caught on his chain as he leaned into the mic. “What’s up, Seoul!” 

Cheers erupted again, a few girls screaming his name and the other guys. “Tonight, it’s a special night because we’re performing our self-produced song for the world to hear!”

Leeseo elbowed when you immediately started clapping and cheering.

“Enjoy yourself, love. You deserve this!” Martin started playing some guitar chords.

“Crash, smash, rock, mash up Ooh, take what you want 돈, 멋, 명예, love, and what? Ooh, take what you want.”

You remember hearing them practice bits of it during free periods when you walked by to give them some snacks and reminding Keonho about little details to fix for the trip.

Hearing it live was very different from it; all of the instruments crashed together in perfect sync, and you finally listened to all five singing together, which was uncommon for bands. Everyone was shouting along, even if they didn’t know the words. In a moment, Martin’s eyes found you. For that split second, you could feel your heart trying to escape from your ribs. 

“Some people want this, some people want that Same here, all seventeen years of my life.”

Martin started walking around to interact with people, standing in front of you three.

“Chased after love, chased after fame. So now I want the whole world to know my name.”

He winked at you, feeling it like a spark as heat rushed to your cheeks. Yujin started laughing at your face, and Keonho smiled teasingly at you.

A couple of minutes later, the song ended with a burst of applause, Martin running a hand through his hair before grabbing the mic again.

“Alright,” he said, breathless but grinning. “We’ve got one more for you.” 

He paused the moment his gaze found you immediately. 

You smiled faintly, catching the flicker of nerves in his eyes, and mouthed, “Breathe.”

He huffed out a laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting before turning his head to the band. Juhoon leaned into his mic.

“Go for it, dude.” The five boys laughed, Martin turning back to his mic.

“This,” he started, “is one of the many songs I wrote for this girl.” His eyes never left yours. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I’d have written any of them. 

You looked at Leeseo and Yujin on your side; they were smiling already. They knew this would happen.

He stepped back slightly, adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder, and nodded toward the rest of the band. “It’s called ‘Iris.’”

"And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be And I don't wanna go home right now."

The lyrics drifted through the air, and though he was looking out toward the audience, every few lines his gaze found its way back to you, long enough that it was impossible to look away.

He wasn’t performing anymore. He was confessing to you for a second time.

You felt your throat tighten, fingers twisting around the hem of your jacket, your heart beating full speed, and making you clear of one thing. You were completely in love with that person whom you thought you hated.

"And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am."

The crowd swayed with the melody, arms raised, voices echoing when they learn a little piece of the song. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he smiled at you mid-line. The final chorus exploded, lights flashing, the crowd roaring. Martin’s voice cracked slightly on the last note—and somehow, it made it perfect. You screamed at the very end, chanting with your friends, “CORTIS!”.

The five joined Martin, bowing down in gratitude with big smiles on their faces. Juhoon was teary-eyed, and you could tell that it moved the rest of the members as they walked out. The MC came back, impressed.

“Wow! Cortis really wants the money. We will have a five-minute break so the judges can decide.”  

Leeseo grabbed your arm, eyes wide. “Y/N… I think you just got serenaded.”

“Go see him.” Yujin pointed at the small hallway you could go to. You looked at him, panicking.

“Like now?”

“Yes!” Both of them pushed you there, moving for a couple of minutes before you reach it. You waited for the security to get distracted to enter there, closing it as fast as you opened it.

At a distance, you saw Martin laughing while watching James and Keonho jumping in happiness, James even half-yelling something about “not missing the last chord for once.”

You slipped past the curtain, unsure whether to find him or run before someone teased you for looking like you belonged there.

“Noona!”

Too late. You turned just in time to see Seonghyeon spot you instantly. 

His shout was loud enough to catch the attention of all five.

“Prez!” Keonho was the first to move, practically launching himself into your arms before you could even react. “What do you think, Prez?”

You laughed, stumbling back half a step under his weight. “I think you’re all still dangerously hyper.”

“We totally killed it, what do you mean?” Juhoon cut in proudly, slinging an arm over Keonho’s shoulders. James raised his drumsticks triumphantly in agreement, and Seonghyeon grinned from behind the keyboard setup, already pretending to wipe sweat off his brow dramatically.

You shook your head fondly, brushing hair from your face. “You guys were amazing. Really.”

He was standing a few feet away, hair damp with sweat, guitar strap still hanging loose at his side. The grin he wore was boyish, tired, and radiant all at once.

“Occupational hazard,” he said with a shrug, stepping closer. “So? How’d we do?”

“You’re asking the school council president for a review?” you teased.

“I trust your judgment,” he said simply. 

“More like his crush judgment,” Seonghyeon spoke, hissing later after Juhoon pinched him.

“Can you leave us alone for a sec?” Martin looked at James.

“You all heard him! Step back, ladies,” you laughed at the funny view of them trying to listen.

The grin softened before becoming quiet again. “So?”

You exhaled, letting yourself smile despite yourself. “You were amazing, Martin. Really.”

He froze for a heartbeat, eyes lighting up. “You mean that?”

You nodded. “Every word.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pretending to play it cool, but the faint flush at the tips of his ears betrayed him. “Guess that means I can cash in on my deal.”

You frowned. “Deal?”

“The one where if we win, you owe me a date.”

You scoffed, trying not to grin. “You haven’t even won yet.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “We both know we’re not walking out of here without that trophy and cash.”

You were about to fire back something smart when the loudspeaker crackled to life outside.

“All bands, please gather near the stage! Results will be announced!”

He looked at you and smirked. “Come on, front row like before, Prez.”

The crowd was electric again when you came back, students pressing closer to the makeshift stage, voices rising in chaotic chants. Hanlim High’s band stood on one side, exhausted but smiling; CORTIS stood on the other. You could sense the adrenaline pulsing through their little group.

You stood with Leeseo and Yujin near the barricade, your heart weirdly hammering even though you weren’t the one competing. You three held hands.

“And the winners of this year’s Battle of the Bands…” the announcer said, drawing it out. The entire lot went silent for a breath.

“…CORTIS!”

The explosion of sound was immediate.

Students screamed, threw confetti, jumped, and cheered so loud you could barely hear the band’s name being repeated over the speakers. Keonho dropped to his knees, James banged a drum in celebration, and Juhoon lifted his guitar triumphantly in the air.

Martin just stood there for a second, blinking in disbelief as he grabbed the big cardboard check before looking toward you through the chaos.

You clapped your hands over your mouth, laughing, and he broke into the brightest smile you’d ever seen. Then, like it was instinct, he pointed right at you before turning to grab the mic.

“This one’s for SOPA High, and for the people who never stopped believing in us!” he shouted. “Especially one of them.”

Leeseo smirked beside you. “If you don’t date him soon, I will.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply because Martin had already jumped off the stage into the crowd, swallowed by a sea of cheering hands and students trying to high-five him. You decided not to bother the moment by moving near a corner to breathe properly with Leeseo next to you, who was almost suffocating.

Later, when the crowd started thinning, people made plans to celebrate at a nearby karaoke place. Banners were torn down, the lights dimmed, and laughter filled the streets as everyone drifted away in groups.

You were helping Yujin pick up some discarded signs when you noticed Martin slipping away from the commotion, walking towards you with a smile. Before he could reach you, he paused, looking right behind you.

Following his gaze, you saw her.

His mom.

Standing near both of you, clutching her bag, and if your vision wasn’t playing, you could see her eyes wet from what she’d just watched.

Martin froze when he saw her. For a second, he looked like a little boy again, before taking a slow step forward to be next to you.

“Mom,” he said quietly.

She smiled faintly, her voice soft. “You were incredible.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “You… came?”

“I had some help,” she said, glancing to your side, and your heart skipped when you realized she meant you.

Martin turned slightly. You gave a small bow before stepping back.

“I will give you two some space,” you bowed again before walking to where Leeseo and Juhoon were standing. 

When he looked back at his mom, her eyes were already glistening.

“I see what she meant,” she said.

He frowned slightly. “What did who mean?”

“Y/N,” she said. “She told me that music isn’t your rebellion, it’s more like your peace.” Her voice trembled slightly, but her smile didn’t waver. “She was right. You looked… happy. Really happy.”

Martin swallowed hard. “Mom…”

“I’ve been thinking about something for months,” she continued, clutching her purse tighter. “And after tonight, I think I've finally made up my mind.” She paused, steadying her breath. “I’m going to file for divorce.”

His eyes widened in surprise, a sudden feeling of relief occupying his whole body. “You’re serious?”

She nodded. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine. And I think you, your father, and I both deserve honesty, even if it hurts.”

Martin’s throat tightened. “I’m proud of you, Mom.”

Her smile wavered, tears finally spilling over. “No, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

He didn’t hesitate, just stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. This was the first time in a while he gave and felt a hug that was that tight and overdue. 

After a while, she pulled back and brushed his hair from his forehead, her voice quiet. “You’ve grown up so much. And that girl… she’s good for you.”

Martin blinked, glancing instinctively toward where you stood, half-hidden behind the fence. You were talking to Leeseo, occasionally looking at him with your smile.

“She’s a great girl,” his mom added softly. “Don’t let her slip away.”

He smiled, that same shy, crooked smile that only ever showed up when it came to you. “I won’t.”

“Cortis and friends!” she screamed, not even willing to bat their eyelids. “Grab your stuff and get in the car, food is on me.”

As his mom turned to leave for the car, he looked back toward you again. You were laughing now as you watched James running at the word food, the streetlights glinting off your red bow as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

And for the first time in a long while, Martin didn’t feel like the boy running away from everything. He felt like someone finally heading toward something worth staying for.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The school courtyard was anything but calm. Countless rolling suitcases, half-zipped duffel bags, and sleepy students chugging canned coffee like their lives depended on it to keep awake for at least of the way there.

After a weekend of endless messages about CORTIS’ victory on Cyworld and your classmates posting grainy flip-phone photos of Martin grinning with the trophy, it felt surreal that it was finally trip day. The band made sure they cashed the prize and gave you a big amount for the prom if they got to perform again, which you obviously agreed to.

You adjusted your backpack and sighed as Leeseo ran up to you, waving a folded permission slip.

“Can you believe they’re trusting us with three whole nights away from supervision?” she grinned.

“Please,” you said, smiling faintly. “You know half the teachers are going to patrol the halls like spies.”

Yujin jogged up behind her, yawning. “I’m only here for the free breakfast buffet.”

“You’re here because you begged to be in my room,” Leeseo shot back.

“Prez!”

You turned instinctively, only for Keonho to appear out of nowhere, blocking your view with a grin too wide to be innocent. Last time he gave you that type of smile, you were in the director's office.

“Morning!” he said brightly, holding a carton of banana milk. “You want one?”

You frowned, eyeing him. “You hate banana milk.”

“Do I?” He glanced down, pretending to think. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

Before you could answer, Juhoon popped up behind him. “Y/N! Quick question: if a band wins something again, should the prize money go into savings or celebration snacks?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Snacks,” James said immediately, dragging his suitcase past.

“Definitely savings,” Seonghyeon countered.

“Hold on, I didn’t even—”

“Exactly!” Keonho interrupted, looping an arm through yours. “We are the only ones who can settle it. Come on, let’s walk and talk, far away from the buses.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothing,” they chorused, which was, of course, the most suspicious answer possible.

By the time you reached the front of the boarding area, the CORTIS boys had somehow managed to keep you talking about everything from “the ethics of snack budgeting” to “who snores the loudest during overnight trips” (it was apparently James).

Every time you tried to glance toward the loading buses, one of them moved strategically into your line of sight.

“Okay,” you said finally, crossing your arms. “What’s going on? And don’t say ‘nothing’ again.”

Before you could press further, the teachers started calling everyone to board.

“Saved by the bell,” Seonghyeon muttered, pushing his suitcase forward.

You squinted suspiciously at all four of them. “You’re all terrible liars.”

Keonho only winked. “We learned from the best.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as you followed them onto the bus.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The trip flew by in a blur of beach air, sightseeing, and several promposals that only happened when a hundred high school seniors were given freedom for three days straight and allowed their use of free will. You even helped out with Yujin’s promposal to Leeseo, to which she accepted happily.

You found yourself laughing more than you had in months, mostly because the CORTIS boys had taken it upon themselves to make every activity as dramatic as possible.

At lunch, James accidentally tripped and dropped an entire tray of kimbap, dramatically claiming it was “artistic sacrifice.” Juhoon tried to serenade a teacher with a guitar for bonus points on attendance. And the best for last was probably Keonho and Seonghyeon attempting to sneak extra dessert for everyone, only to get caught by the cafeteria lady, who then gave them more because she found them “charming.”

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somehow, their energy became the highlight of the trip.

Every so often, though, you caught Martin watching you from across the group, who you were impressed by how distracted he looked all this trip, exchanging some words with you now and then.

On the last night, during the “recreation period,” the teachers announced everyone could stay in the courtyard area to watch the sunset and enjoy the small outdoor stage. 

You and Leeseo were sitting near the front, sharing a pack of chips on a break after a small duet given by Wonbin and Liz.

“Yujin, what are you moving your head like a meerkat? You’re stressing me out.” Leeseo’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay, don’t freak out, but I think something is happening.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, already getting stressed out. You might have changed a little bit, but you were still a little perfectionist.

Music started playing from the speakers, and your mind instantly recognized the familiar brass riff it had.

“You’re just too good to be true…”

Your jaw dropped at the voice of Martin. “Leeseo, is this real?.”

“Oh, yes,” Leeseo whispered, eyes sparkling. You didn’t notice how she was holding a recording camera, pointing it at you.

Martin opened the curtain that worked as a background on the stage, his gaze fully on you. Martin jumped off the stage, mic in hand, grinning as he began to sing the classic with over-the-top theatrics.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

He pointed at you on the last word, and everyone screamed.

You covered your face, but it was useless. Martin was committed. He climbed onto one of the benches, sang to the teachers (who pretended not to laugh), and even slid down on one knee in front of a startled Yujin, who dramatically clutched his heart.

The entire class was upside down as the music built. He ran up the small aisle and stopped right in front of you.

You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Martin—”

He was interrupted by singing directly to you, his grin wider than ever.

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright…”

You buried your face in your hands, but he gently pulled them away, still singing. The crowd clapped along to the beat, the boys behind him quickly moving. Martin spun around, giving a cue to Juhoon to give him a flower bouquet to go again in front of you, kneeling on one knee.

When the song finally ended, Martin was breathless, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead, but his eyes never left yours.

Behind him, James and Seonghyeon were holding a banner, the phrase: “I may not be Shakespeare, but I promise prom with me will be a sonnet.”

The entire courtyard went silent. 

He held the mic higher, the faint tremor in his hand betraying the adrenaline rushing through him. Despite the wide grin on his face, you could see his chest rising and falling a little too fast.

“So…” he said, catching his breath. “I think it’s pretty obvious what my feelings about you are.” 

“You drive me insane, make me want to be better, even when I swear I don’t care about anything.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “But I do. I care too much, especially when it comes to you.”

A few students in the front row let out small gasps, someone whispering, “Oh my god, he’s serious.”

Martin looked down for a second, the mic brushing against his lip as if he needed that pause to steady himself. When he lifted his head again, there was no smirk this time.e

“Maybe you don’t see it yet despite me saying I had this crush on you that night,” he said, voice softer now, “but when I look at you, it’s like the noise stops. And that’s saying something, coming from me.” The crowd laughed gently, and even you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through your shock.

Then he tilted his head, eyes glinting. “So yeah,” he said, tone dipping back into that familiar warmth, “I had to do this your way because words weren’t cutting it anymore.”

The crowd burst into cheers again, clapping and whistling, chanting your name and his. You were still processing the words, your heart thudding painfully fast, when he looked straight at you again, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

“So, Y/N,” he said, almost shyly this time, pointing at the banner behind him that was shaken by the boys, “will you go to prom with me?”

The crowd collectively held its breath.

You blinked, stunned, then let out a shaky laugh. “You could’ve just asked, you know.”

He grinned, his breath still uneven, voice hoarse from the singing and the nerves.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

You looked at him, the boy who’d spent half a year driving you crazy and the other half trying to make you smile. Your hand brushed against his as you took the bouquet. “Martin,” you said softly, eyes meeting his, “yes. Of course I’ll go with you.”

The courtyard erupted—cheers, applause, a few whistles from the back. Juhoon and James started playing the outro riff again, and Keonho let out a triumphant, “She said yes!” into the backup mic.

Martin blinked at you like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Wait—really?”

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest. “Really.”

For a moment, he just stared, then he exhaled, his smile breaking into something so bright it made your stomach twist. “I’m—uh—wow. Okay.”

The boys were already pushing him forward, shouting for him to say something cool, but he just chuckled helplessly, scratching the back of his head. 

“Hug each other, idiots!” Yujin screamed, and before you could react, Martin’s arms wrapped around you, lifting you clean off the ground.

Your surprised laugh got lost in the roar of the crowd. He spun you once, just enough for your shoes to leave the pavement, and when he set you down, your heart was racing far faster than it should’ve

As the music picked up again, his hand reached out instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your cheek. He looked like he wanted to say more—so much more—but instead, he whispered, “See you at night, Y/N.”

Your frowned. “Wait, what?”

Before you could demand an explanation, Leeseo grabbed your wrist. “No time for questions—let’s go.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, stumbling after her.

She only grinned. “Operation ‘Date Night,’ obviously.”

“Excuse me, what?”

Yujin was waiting near the dorms, arms crossed like an overexcited manager. “Martin’s orders. You’re not allowed to show up in a school jacket in a romantic setting. Leeseo, you know what to do.”

“On it,” she said, pulling you inside.

Ten minutes later, your room looked like a battlefield of denim, perfume, and lip gloss.

Leeseo had raided your bag, holding up two outfits with the seriousness of a stylist dressing an idol.

“Okay, option one: the floral skirt and cardigan combo. It’s cute, safe, and very student council president. Option two…” She tossed a bundle at you. “Something that’ll make him forget his own lyrics.”

You gave her a look. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re welcome.”

Leeseo was taking her sweet time; everything she was doing was slow and steady, keeping you busy with prom details and suggesting matching colors and opinions for her and Yujin for the event. Which also made you think if Martin is into matching colors.

When you finally looked in the mirror, the second Leeseo screamed in joy, you barely recognized yourself. The simple denim skirt paired with a white tank layered under a cropped cardigan, your hair loose and soft around your shoulders. A thin silver necklace rested at your collarbone.

“Thank you, Leeseo.” You hugged her tightly.

“Anything to see you leaving this school with your first boyfriend and have your first kiss.” You laughed at her tease, face turning red. You left the dorm to start walking to the place, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, and you were sure that it was leaving behind streaks of rose and violet across the water.

When you reached the beach, fairy lights were strung between two wooden poles, flickering softly. A small speaker played a slow guitar riff, so it was clear he was there.

And there, sitting cross-legged on a picnic blanket with a basket on his side, was Martin.

He wasn’t dressed like the usual; he decided to wear a plain white tee layered under an open gray button-up, dark jeans cuffed at the ankles, and a simple silver chain that glinted every time he moved. His sneakers were scuffed, but clean, and his hair still messy from earlier, like he hadn’t bothered to fix it because he knew you’d recognize him anyway.

He looked up as soon as he heard your footsteps, that same lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you said, trying not to sound as breathless as you suddenly felt. “So this was your mysterious ‘see you tonight’ plan?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Yeah. The guys helped. Keonho almost set the lights on fire, but we made it work.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you sat beside him. “This is… nice.”

“Yeah?” he asked, trying not to look too eager.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your gaze drifting toward the waves. “Really nice.”

He exhaled, shoulders dropping. “Good. I was worried it’d feel too much.”

“Not at all, Tin,” he laughed at the nickname.

For a while, you talked about everything and nothing while eating. The songs they were writing, the stress of exams finally being over, minus the one for college, and how Leeseo had forced you to change outfits under threat of “fashion failure.”

Martin was quieter than usual. His usual sarcasm softened into warmth, his eyes flickering between you and the sea from time to time.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” you said at one point, voice gentle.

He shook his head. “I wanted to. I just… wanted you to have a night that wasn’t about expectations or responsibilities. Just… you.”

That made you look up, startled, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

The wind tugged at your hair, and he reached forward instinctively like before, brushing it back behind your ear. His hand lingered, thumb grazing your jaw as his breath caught.

“Martin…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn’t move closer, but he didn’t move away either. His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if he were fighting himself.

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured, half to himself. “Not unless you—”

Your heart stuttered. “Unless I what?”

He smiled faintly. “Unless you’d actually let me.”

You opened your mouth, but before you could speak, a loud crash echoed from behind the dunes.

“REALLY YUJIN?!”  Keonho’s voice.

You both jumped apart, laughing in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face. “They were spying?”

Martin ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “I told them to stay in their rooms.”

Another yell followed. “Did they kiss yet?”

You looked at each other, bursting out laughing, really laughing, until your stomach hurt and the tension melted. Martin leaned back on his hands, still smiling. “Guess they saved us from doing something we’d probably overthink later.”

You nudged his shoulder. “Probably.”

He turned to you again, that same soft look from the concert flickering across his face. “Still,” he said quietly, “you make overthinking kind of worth it.”

Your breath caught, but you just smiled. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing at him through your lashes. “Here I am.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Martin and you got closer than ever, and even though it wasn’t official yet, not even your father could deny the chemistry between you two. You spent afternoons studying together, stealing glances over textbooks, and laughing about how far you’d come. The bond grew quietly, in the little things: late-night calls, going out with all of them, and the way he always walked you home after those little evenings, even when it meant taking the long route.

By the time November came around, the entrance exam was long over. The pressure had finally lifted, replaced by a sense of pride and relief. To your fortune, you’d gotten the scholarship for the career you’d always dreamed of, and everyone couldn’t be prouder. 

Graduation day was full of bittersweet smiles. You got your physical pictures, one of you and Martin, standing close with your caps tilted while he carried you, another with your best friends, not leaving behind Keonho and Seonghyeon, who came to see you all six of you graduate. All of you are holding onto that perfect moment before life pulls you in different directions. 

“Can you please stop looking at the picture with your boyfriend and help me with my hair like you promised?” You turned your head to see Leeseo struggling to remove the hair rollers. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet,” she moved her eyebrows up and down, happily seeing the look on your face.

Leeseo had barged into your room hours earlier, armed with curling irons, body glitter, and enough lip gloss to coat a car. Your bedroom floor was a battlefield of shoe boxes, safety pins, and half-zipped purses.

“Thank you, now turn so I can help you,” she ordered, tugging at the straps of your satin dress. It was simple but elegant. Soft champagne color, an a-line skirt, and a ribbon that tied at the back. Your silver necklace gleamed faintly at your collarbone, the same one you’d worn at the beach.

“Leeseo, I think my ribs can’t breathe,” you muttered.

“That’s how you know it fits,” she said, completely unfazed. “Now smile. You’re about to make a boy combust.”

“Stop,” you groaned, cheeks already heating.

By the time you finished curling your hair, the doorbell rang, making you both freeze in place.

“They’re here,” she whispered dramatically.

Leeseo grabbed her clutch, smoothing her pastel blue dress. “You ready?”

You exhaled slowly, heart fluttering. “As I’ll ever be.”

When you opened your bedroom door, your father was already downstairs, peeking through the hallway mirror before unlocking it.

The door swung open to reveal Yujin and Martin. Yujin wore a pale gray suit that was clearly too tight around his shoulders, and Martin… Martin was in a black suit jacket over a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled casually to his elbows, and his signature silver chain glinting faintly at his collarbone. His hair was swept back loosely, enough to look polished without losing that “Martin” edge.

You heard your dad talking. “Ah, so these are the young men I’ve been hearing about.”

“Sir,” Yujin said quickly, bowing with his usual charm. “We promise to bring your daughter back before midnight.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “You'd better. I know where the school is.”

Martin laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I will tell my mom that, sir.”

Then you appeared at the top of the stairs, and for a second—just a second—Martin forgot how to breathe.

He’d seen you in a thousand different ways: annoyed, serious, focused, laughing. But this was new, and it surely made his pulse stutter.

You hesitated halfway down the stairs. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, eyes following you until you reached the last step.

Leeseo descended right behind you, looking stunning in her powder-blue dress, immediately elbowing you when she caught Martin staring.

“Alright, everyone,” your dad said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, “before you leave, I need a photo. This is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, you don’t see this in Seoul.”

“Dad—” you began, but he was already grabbing the camera from the counter.

“Line up,” he ordered.

Yujin and Leeseo posed first, grinning widely. Then he waved at you and Martin. “Your turn.”

You exchanged a helpless look with Martin before stepping closer. His hand brushed yours until your dad adjusted the frame.

“Closer,” he said. “You two look like you’re taking an ID photo.”

Martin chuckled softly, sliding an arm around your waist. His hand rested lightly against your back, and you swore your heartbeat could be heard across the room.

Your dad smiled behind the camera. “There we go. Perfect.” Click.

The flash went off, and you both blinked, still standing close, when he lowered the camera.

“Beautiful,” your father said warmly. “Now go, before you make me cry.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see you later, Dad.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said, then glanced at Martin with mock seriousness. “Be safe.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said, smiling.

“You clean up well,” you said, forcing a casual smile.

“You too. Didn’t know the Prez had a gown in her closet.”

“Didn’t know you owned a shirt with buttons.”

“Touché.”

Yujin cleared his throat loudly. “Okay, that’s enough flirting for the driveway. Mrs. Park’s waiting!”

You turned to see Martin’s mom, sitting in the front seat of her car, waving with a proud smile. “Come on, kids!”

She looked radiant, freer than she had the last time you’d seen her. When you climbed in beside Leeseo, she glanced back at you through the mirror. “You both look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said, touched.

The car rolled up to the school gym, saying goodbye to his mom before going inside with your arm wrapped around Martin’s. The windows were glowing gold from the string lights inside that were giving out the theme “Golden Memories.” You could already hear the song mix the DJ was creating on the spot.

“I can believe the committee pulled this off,” You smiled proudly, thankful for the art club's offering to help out with the decorations art club did. 

“Not bad for a bunch of overworked seniors.”

“You guys are late!”

James started to have his arms, Keonho, Seonghyeon, and Juhoon at his sides, waving calmly near the entrance. You find it funny how James’s tie was crooked, Juhoon was trying to help him fix it, and the other two were holding a notebook that you recognized as Martin’s. 

“Nice of you to dress up, boys,” Martin called, grinning.

“Dress up?” Seonghyeon huffed, “It’s not even my graduation, and I look better than the three of you.”

“You girls look great.” Keonho smiled, walking up to hug you first before going to Martin’s.

“Our leader is all grown up. Wearing a tie, bringing a date… next thing you know, he’ll start paying taxes.”

“Don’t curse me like that,” Martin laughed it off.

You looked at Yujin and Leeseo. Despite laughing it off and teasing like usual, it was no news that it was their last big night as CORTIS before graduation. And although they were really committed to the band and set a goal to go a long way, it was their last performance in high school before life pulled them in different directions.

Seonghyeon must’ve felt it too, because when he clapped Martin’s shoulder, his voice wavered slightly. “Let’s have fun today.”

“Oh, we will have fun.” A song started playing, and Leeseo dropped Yujin’s arm.

“Come on, we’re not wasting a good song!” She immediately dragged you to the dance floor, feeling Martin’s gaze behind you.

Leeseo’s infectious energy made you join after a moment of hesitation; even the boys joined in after a few songs. Everyone lost count of how many songs they danced and went inside the circle, and by the time the slow songs rolled in, everyone started to pull their partners.

You were about to sit down, but you caught Martin’s eye once. He smiled at you while excusing himself to cross the floor toward you. The lights dimmed, and your teacher took the stage with a mic in hand.

“Okay, everyone. We are going to do this quickly. Let’s announce your prom king and queen. I need the president of the student council to come to hand the crowns.”

You left Martin to pick up the cushion that had both crowns and stay at the end of the stage.

“To remind all of you, the voting was done by taking paper and writing the name of the person you thought was suitable for the title. Let’s start by naming the king.” 

He flipped the card, sighing at the result. He paused for effect. “Martin Edwards.”

Your jaw dropped, watching your friends go wild, shoving him forward as he was in disbelief. He walked to the stage, standing in front of you. You took the crown to neatly put it on top of his head.

“Congratulations, Tin,” he smiled, walking away to stand behind the teacher.

“Now, to our prom queen…” he repeated the pause from before. “It’s my honor to say this. Y/N!”

You blinked, the spotlight turning toward you and your shocked face. Martin went to you quickly, taking your crown and putting it on top of your head. He threw the cushion away to take your hand, interwining your fingers.

“Was this planned?” you said, laughing, slightly red from embarrassment.

“I don’t know. But I guess that makes you my queen tonight, huh?” he teased.

“Don’t push your luck,” you smiled.

“Now, the king and the queen will slow dance. Students, the floor is yours.” The crowd began to sway, and Martin offered his hand, his usual cockiness melting.

“May I have this dance, Your Majesty?”

You tried not to laugh as you placed your hand in his. “Fine. But don’t step on my dress.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, grinning.

As you both stood in the middle, his hands sat at your waist politely. Thanks to the heels, you could reach enough to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the back of his hair.

“Can’t believe I came with the queen of prom.”

“Say the king himself, I think we are both lucky,” he smiled. Neither of you spoke for a moment; the song made you replay some memories you had with your friends, and soon enough, with Martin.

“You know,” he murmured finally. “I never really liked dances, even more the ones where my mom used to force me to go for her work.”

You looked up, amused. “Why’s that?”

“Because I never had anyone worth dancing with.” Since you didn’t know what to say, you let yourself sway with him. Your head rested lightly against his chest.

You didn’t even realize that your friends and more couples joined in. You noticed when the music started to fade away. Martin cursed under his breath, looking at you.

“Is it time for your performance?”  

“Yeah, I’ll be back. I promise,” he took your hands from his neck, kissing the top of them before going to the stage. You looked to your left, seeing Yujin and Leeseo smiling at you.

“What are you thinking?” you sighed, lovestruck.

“On how I will confess to him after this.” Both of them stopped their moves, the tap of the mic being tested rebounding on the gymnasium. 

“We still have a little more than half an hour to end this night. And before we wrap up, let’s welcome CORTIS to the stage.”

The applause was quick to come, them moving on the stage, exchanging nods between them. Martin stepped forward while everyone got their instruments ready.

“Hey, everyone,” he said. “We didn’t plan to play tonight, but this is our last time together before we graduate. So… this is for all of you. For the friend who stuck around, the teacher who, although I knew I wasn’t particularly his favorite student,” the place laughed softly. “They still listened and advised us with warm hearts.”

He paused for a minute, looking at the boys whose eyes were probably as glossy as his. “This is not the end, but a little break before we go all in. Keonho. Seonghyeon, hope we can play at your graduation, and thank you for trusting the band.”

They started with two of their own songs, dancing along with everyone and screaming the songs at the top of their lungs. Energy was never missed when it came to them, even more since they played like it was the last thing they’d ever do, and maybe in a way, it was.

When the applause finally died down, Martin took a sip of water with his members, stepping back to the mic afterward.

“Thank—”

“Wait!” James stopped Martin, who was as confused as the rest of the place, minus the four boys. “There’s one more song.”

Martin walked to him with the rest behind them, covering his mic with his palm. Quickly returning after some clarification.

“This is a surprise,” he stated. “I wasn’t supposed to release this song this soon. I want to thank you guys for creating the instrumental and letting me perform this, and I want to thank my muse for inspiring me to write this song. This is called ‘Everlong’”

The keyboards started, his voice filled the room, and after a couple of verses, Seonghyeon joined.

"And I wonder When I sing along with you If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when She sang."

You simply stood there, digesting the lyrics while people danced to the beat. You didn’t cry until the last note faded, applauding with a smile on your face. Yujin and Leeseo stood to your sides and then watched the boys on stage, officially tearing up.

You feel bad to realize how loved you were by your friends, and how much you had taken Martin’s silent warmth for granted.  He was loud and proud about his feelings for you, even if the tactic at first wasn’t that clear; he later never let you forget you mattered. In moments like this, you finally saw the depth beneath his jokes. 

You went to the refreshment table after the set, drinking some soda to calm yourself down.

“There you are,” you heard his voice. He was still a little breathless, and his jacket was on his arms, his shirt sleeves rolled higher. 

You smiled, suddenly a wave of nerves rushing through your body at his presence. It was now or never, “I want you to come with me.”

“Where—”

“I have to tell you something.” You grabbed his hand, he instinctively looked at it, and softly bit the smile that was threatening to show.

“Show me the way.” You led him to your table, grabbing your clutch and leaving your crown. You passed the chatter through the back doors that opened onto the empty football field. The night air was crisp, and the stars were faint, but somehow still visible and giving a nice glow to the night.

You stopped standing on one of the bleachers in the field so you could be slightly higher, letting go of his hand to turn toward him.

He smiled, a little confused. “Y/N, if this is about the song—”

“It’s not,” you said, heart hammering. “Okay, maybe it is.”

“Oh my God, do you feel embarrassed? I didn’t mean to—”

“I know what you meant,” you interrupted softly. “And you’re right.”

He frowned slightly. “Right about what?”

You exhale. “That everything feels real when it’s with you.”

You decided to step down the bleachers on time. “I didn’t even realize it at first because I truly believed you were just annoying me, to throw me off and my record. But then you started showing up—not just for me—to everyone. And every time you did, I found myself noticing more.”

“Like…?”

“The way you smile when something finally works for you, how you live your life with no regrets, and how your heart is so pure that you don’t even care if the other person hates you. You are there.”

You took a shaky breath, your hand clutching your purse more. “And somewhere between wanting to hate you and trying not to fall for you. I did.”

Martin’s lips parted slightly, “You mean—”

“Yes,” a small laugh broke through at his pure face of disbelief. “I fell for you, Martin Edwards.”

You could see his throat bob as he swallowed hard, his voice a little rough when he finally spoke. 

“Say it again,” he said softly.

“What?”

“My name. Like that.” His lips curved upward, shy and boyish at the same time. “It sounds so pretty when you say it.”

Your cheeks warmed instantly. “You’re unbelievable.”

He chuckled, getting closer to the bleachers, looking up at you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that—well, not that exactly, but close.”

“I can imagine it after you told me that night.”

“Which, by the way, were those two years of you calling me a nuisance, giving me detention, pretending you didn't look for me at every assembly?”

You laughed, “I had to check if I was going to get called out because of you.”

“I noticed at a distance since you were the only person who actually saw me, even when you swore you couldn’t stand me.”

The wind picked up, making the bleachers creak and your hair sweep across your face. Your hands went to your arms, blaming yourself for being so forgetful and not picking up your sweater from the table. He stood on the deck of the bleacher, and his jacket was quickly placed over your shoulders.

And just what you thought, he reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear again, with he difference that his hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin.

“I didn’t mean to fall for you either,” he admitted, looking down.  “But I did. And I don’t regret a second of it.”

You smiled before reaching into your clutch, hand trembling, and pulled out an envelope.

“I was supposed to wait until tomorrow when we go to Yujin’s house,” you said, “but I can’t.”

He took it, puzzled, and watched what it contained. His eyes widened the second he saw the tickets, audibly gasping.

“There’s no way—”

“Two tickets to see Linkin Park in Seoul,” you smiled nervously. “Consider it a date. Come with me on Friday, and don’t say ‘maybe’.”

He reached for your hands. “You really are something else.”

“Something good?” you teased.

He looked at the sky. “You are something out of this world. God, you’re—”

Before he could finish, you leaned up on your tiptoes, your hand finding his tie to pull him down just like before, but this time, you didn’t hesitate.

Your lips brushed his, his breath caught, and then he kissed you back, gentle at first, as if afraid to break the moment. You froze for half a second, feeling your heart pounding so hard you could almost hear it over the faint music coming from the gym. 

Your nose bumped his, your fingers trembled against his chest, but Martin didn’t care. He smiled into the kiss, pulling back only enough to whisper. “Wow,”

You nodded, breathless at how his eyes were looking so fondly at you. “That was my first.”

His eyes softened. “Good. Then I’m glad it was me.”

You didn’t even realize you were smiling until he rested his forehead against yours, both of you laughing quietly for no reason other than sheer disbelief.

“OH MY GOD!”

You jumped apart. From the edge of the field, a cluster of silhouettes waved frantically like South Korea two years ago for the World Cup. You hid your face on the curve that connected his neck and shoulder, his arms engulfing you.

“Finally!” Leeseo hissed, hugging Yujin happily while he had a smile on his face.

“Pay up, Seonghyeon.” James snickered, waving a few bills. 

“It took you three years, love your perseverance!” Juhoon screamed, and you couldn’t help but laugh from your spot.

“Worth the wait!” Yujin yelled, pretending to wipe fake tears.

You covered your face, groaning. “They were watching?!”

Martin just laughed, “Of course they were. They were looking at us from the gym.”

He turned toward them, raising your joined hands like a victory gesture. The others erupted in cheers, chanting both your names like a ridiculous anthem.

“Also, did I just hear ‘Pay up’?” Martin raised his shoulder, giving away the answer. You huffed, “Can’t believe they’ve been betting on us.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “And for once, I don’t mind losing.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

He looked back at you, his eyes were full of every emotion you were both feeling. “Ridiculously in love with you.”

And before you could think twice, he leaned in again, slower this time, just enough for your lashes to brush his cheek, for you to close your eyes and let the world spin quietly around you.

You didn’t even care if your friends were still watching.

Because under the silver lights of the empty field, with his jacket around your shoulders, hands on your waist, and your heart in a state of pure bliss, everything finally made sense.

And for once—in the middle of all the noise—you didn’t feel like you had to be perfect. You just felt real.

Just like him.

Just like everlong.

─── A PERSON WHO YEARNS IS A PERSON WHO EARNS! I have never written something this big for anyone in a WHILE, but put some romcoms, a playlist, and I'm LOCKED IN. Also, happy cortis blr debut to me, and any grammar mistakes or stuff I missed will be fixed later. love you all and thanks for reading 💞

[cortismoon]

Please talk to me.

SYPNOSIS : in which…the guys thought it would be funny to play a little prank on you, not knowing you hadn’t completely healed from the way they used to treat you before debuting.

CORTIS 6TH MEMBER AU

WARNINGS : angst, hurt/no comfort, AllDay Project mentioned.

a/n: yup yupp🤏

01 | 02

series mlist

you had been excited the entire way back to the dorm. seeing the allday project members again after two whole months felt unreal. it had only been two months but it somehow felt longer. maybe because everything had changed so much since then. schedules had gotten busier. promotions had started. everyone was running around nonstop. there was barely enough time to sleep sometimes. so finally seeing them again felt like finally being able to breathe after holding your breath for weeks.

the second you had spotted them you practically sprinted across the room. they barely even had time to react before you launched yourself at them. everyone immediately started laughing while trying not to fall over from the force of your hug. they all wrapped their arms around you anyway. teasing you for being dramatic while simultaneously refusing to let go of you.

you spent hours talking after that. talking about training days. talking about dorm stories. talking about embarrassing moments. talking about debut preparations. talking about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing at the same time.

every time someone brought up a memory another person would interrupt with an even funnier story and somehow all of you ended up crying from laughter more than once.

by the time you left your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

the entire ride home was spent replaying everything in your head. you couldn’t wait to tell the others. they always listened whenever you got excited about something. even if they acted annoyed. even if they interrupted every five seconds. they always listened.

meanwhile back at the dorm the living room was complete chaos.

everyone was sprawled across the couches. keonho was half laying across martin. martin was loudly complaining about it. juhoon was trying to watch something on his phone while seonghyeon continuously poked his shoulder just to annoy him. james sat nearby looking exhausted as usual.

then keonho suddenly sat up. “hey what if we pranked y/n?”

the room immediately went quiet as everyone slowly looked at him.

“prank her how?” james asked.

keonho shrugged. “i don’t know. just prank her. all i ever see her do is glare at us. she needs a little laugh.”

that immediately sparked interest.

martin suggested hiding all your shoes.

juhoon suggested replacing your shampoo with nair.

seonghyeon suggested putting googly eyes on everything you owned.

none of those ideas lasted more than five seconds before getting shut down.

then seonghyeon spoke again. “what if we ignore her?”

everyone paused.

“like completely?”

“yeah.”

the room immediately erupted with agreement but keonho looked unsure.

“i don’t think that’s gonna be funny though.” he muttered.

“it’ll be funny when she realizes it’s a prank.”

“or she’ll murder us.”

“that’s also funny.”

after several minutes of arguing they somehow settled on it.

james already looked guilty. “guys maybe we shouldn’t.”

“too late.”

“we already agreed.”

“i don’t think she’ll like it.”

“it’s gonna last like ten minutes.”

james sighed. he had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

almost an hour later the front door finally opened. everyone immediately grabbed their phones. their acting skills were terrible but somehow they managed to pull themselves together.

the second you walked inside you practically bounced through the doorway.

“i’m back!” your voice echoed through the dorm.

you blinked. the silence that followed was unsettling.

“hm. did they go out or someth…” your sentence died immediately when you spotted all of them sitting in the living room.

“oh!” you smiled. “you’re here! one sec, i’ll go change and come tell you guys everything.” without waiting for a response you ran toward your room.

the second your door closed everyone released the breath they had been holding. “fuck.” james muttered.

“what?”

“this already feels mean.”

“it’s been thirty seconds.”

“she looked really happy.”

“james lock in.”

“shut up, keonho.”

keonho slowly frowned. “okay maybe today she looked happy.”

for a second nobody said anything, then seonghyeon waved them off. “too late now.”

you changed as fast as humanly possible into a random crop top and james’s old grey sweatpants that had somehow become yours months ago.

you practically ran back into the living room. the smile hadn’t left your face once. you immediately threw yourself onto the couch beside juhoon. “okay so what happened was the second i walked in they saw me and started yelling and then i literally ran over and hugged everyone and then tarzzan almost fell over because apparently i hit him too hard and then we started talking and apparently…”

the words poured out of you nonstop. you were smiling, you laughing, you were gesturing wildly with your hands.

normally by now someone would’ve interrupted you. keonho would’ve asked twenty questions. martin would’ve made fun of you. juhoon would’ve pretended not to care while secretly listening. james would’ve smiled.

someone would’ve reacted.

but there was nothing. you slowly stopped talking.

the silence felt strange as you looked around. everyone was staring at their phones. nobody had even looked up once.

your smile weakened. “…and then…”

nothing. you swallowed. “uh.”

still nothing. “are you guys okay?”

silence.

you looked from face to face. nobody acknowledged you.

not even a glance. not even a hum. not even a nod.

your stomach suddenly twisted. “did you fight or something?”

you stared at them. keonho looked annoyed. martin looked uninterested. juhoon looked focused on his phone. james wasn’t even looking in your direction.

your chest suddenly felt tight because you knew this feeling. you knew it far too well.

sometimes entire conversations would happen around you without anyone involving you. you’d always sit there wondering if anyone even noticed you were there.

you hated those memories. you hated them so much and suddenly they all came rushing back at once.

your fingers curled into the fabric of your sweatpants. “okay…”

your voice came out quieter than expected.

still nobody reacted.

you stood up and the knot in your stomach pulled tighter.

maybe they had argued. maybe something happened while you were gone. maybe everyone was in a bad mood.

but that didn’t make sense because they had all been perfectly fine this morning.

you looked at them one last time hoping someone would finally say something, anything, but nobody did, so you slowly turned around and walked back toward your room.

the second your bedroom door closed behind you the smile you’d been carrying all day finally disappeared.

and out in the living room every single one of them immediately looked up.

martin immediately started laughing while keonho buried his face into a pillow and kicked his feet against the couch. seonghyeon looked way too proud of himself and juhoon was trying not to smile.

the only person who didn’t look amused was james. “guys.”

nobody listened.

“guys seriously.”

still nobody listened. they were too busy talking over each other.

“did you see her face.”

“she looked so confused.”

“this prank is working way better than i thought.”

“she’s probably sitting in her room trying to figure out what she did.”

james immediately looked up. “exactly. that’s the problem.”

the room quieted slightly. “what?”

“i don’t think she’s laughing.”

“well obviously not yet.”

“no. i mean i genuinely don’t think she’s taking this as a joke.”

keonho waved him off. “she’ll figure it out eventually.”

james frowned. he wanted to believe that, he really did, but something about the way your smile disappeared earlier hadn’t sat right with him.

still, nobody listened.

hours passed and you stayed in your room the entire time.

at first you tried distracting yourself with your phone. then with videos. then with music. then by scrolling through old pictures.

nothing worked.

every time you thought about what happened your stomach twisted again.

you kept replaying every interaction from the past few weeks. every conversation. every joke. every disagreement. every possible mistake. had you said something wrong. had you annoyed someone. had you accidentally upset them.

you couldn’t figure it out and that somehow made it worse.

eventually hunger started creeping in. you hadn’t eaten since before meeting the allday project members.

you were starving and fried chicken sounded perfect. the thought alone almost made you smile.

key word: almost.

you got up from your bed and headed toward the door.

even if they weren’t talking to you. you should still let them know you were ordering.

maybe someone wanted something. maybe things would finally go back to normal.

you opened the door and immediately froze, listening to everyone arguing in the living room, laughing together and talking over eachother.

the exact same sounds that filled the dorm every single day.

your heart skipped. for a second relief rushed through you because they weren’t upset or fighting and everything was normal.

you quickly stepped farther into the hallway and the smell of food hit you instantly. your stomach growled.

confused, you followed the noise into the kitchen and the second you stepped inside the room your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

everyone was there. all five of them, sitting around the table, eating takeout with drinks and containers everywhere.

the second they noticed you standing there every voice immediately died. everyone looked away.

your stomach twisted so hard it hurt.

no.

no no no.

please.

not this again.

for a moment nobody said anything as you stared at the table. fried chicken, rice, ramen, snacks.

they had ordered food and somehow nobody thought to tell you.

“you guys ordered food.” your voice came out small.

everyone hesitated. the silence felt endless. “yeah. why?” seonghyeon finally answered.

the second he spoke your chest tightened, because for a brief moment he sounded exactly like he used to before your debut.

before things got better. before he became one of your closest friends.

back when he barely acknowledged your existence. back when every interaction felt like you were bothering him.

your face immediately lost color. you looked as pale as a ghost.

the room suddenly felt too hot. your hands started shaking. you couldn’t stop them.

this wasn’t happening. it couldn’t be happening.

“did you get me anything?”

nobody answered immediately. everyone exchanged glances. the hesitation was enough.

it was enough to make your stomach sink. it was enough to make your chest ache.

finally juhoon spoke. “well, if you wanted something. you should’ve said so. we can’t really read your mind.”

your ears started ringing.

suddenly you weren’t standing in the dorm kitchen anymore, you were back in those old practice rooms. back when you spent lunch breaks alone because nobody wanted to ask if you wanted to come.

back when entire food orders happened without anyone mentioning them to you. back when you convinced yourself you didn’t care. back when you cried in bathroom stalls where nobody could hear you.

your hands trembled harder and your had gone fully numb. your heartbeat was so loud you could hear it. the knot in your chest kept growing.

you genuinely felt sick.

what had happened? what did you do? why were they acting like this?

you looked around the table and nobody met your eyes, which somehow that hurt more than if they had yelled at you, because at least if they yelled you would know what was wrong.

you swallowed hard. “did i… do something?” your voice barely sounded like yours.

nobody answered.

the silence felt suffocating.

you slowly nodded, as if you understood, even though you didn’t. “okay.” your voice cracked slightly. you turned around before anyone could see the tears gathering in your eyes.

back in your room you sat on the edge of your bed for almost ten minutes without moving.

you stared at the floor, your thoughts running so fast you couldn’t keep up. you tried convincing yourself there had to be an explanation.

there had to be. these were your members. your family. your brothers. the people who stayed up all night helping you practice. the people who celebrated your debut. the people who held you when you cried. the people who promised they weren’t going anywhere.

so why did it feel like they already had?

eventually you grabbed your towel and headed toward the bathroom. you needed to think. you needed to breathe.

you needed something. anything.

the shower lasted almost an hour. you sat under basically boiling water longer than necessary.

letting it pour over your head and letting it burn your body, hoping it would somehow wash away the horrible feeling sitting in your chest.

it didn’t.

every time you closed your eyes you heard juhoon’s words again.

‘if you wanted something. you should’ve said so.’

every time you remembered the look on their faces your stomach twisted even more than the last time.

by the time you finally turned the water off your fingers were wrinkled and your eyes hurt.

you changed into your pajamas slowly, not really wanting to leave the bathroom, because eventually you’d have to see them again. eventually you’d have to figure out what was happening.

but when you stepped into the hallway everything was dark all the lights were off.

the dorm was silent which meant everyone had already gone to bed.

for a second that somehow hurt even more.

you quietly made your way toward your room, carefully opening the door.

the room was dark except for the faint glow coming through the curtains from the moon.

james and juhoon were already asleep, their breathing soft and steady, like nothing had happened today.

you stood there for a few moments, just staring at literally nothing, because a part of you kept expecting one of them to wake up and explain everything.

to tell you this was all some misunderstanding. to tell you everything was okay.

neither of them moved.

with a heavy chest, you quietly climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over yourself.

the room felt colder than usual, and despite being exhausted, despite your eyes burning, despite how badly your body wanted sleep.

you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling wondering what you had done wrong.

every time you started drifting off your brain immediately dragged you back to the same thoughts. the same questions. the same horrible feeling sitting in your chest. when your alarm finally went off the next morning you felt worse than when you had gone to bed. your eyes burned. your head hurt. and your chest still felt painfully heavy.

for a few minutes you just laid there staring at the ceiling, listening.

everyone was already awake. you could hear them talking in the living room.

they were all laughing, arguing over something stupid.

completely normal, like yesterday never happened.

you swallowed hard. part of you wanted to stay in bed. part of you wanted to hide in your room forever.

but you couldn’t. eventually you forced yourself up and headed toward the bathroom.

you brushed your teeth mechanically. washed your face. stared at yourself in the mirror for longer than necessary.

you looked awful. your eyes were swollen from crying, your face looked pale.

when you finally stepped out of the bathroom your feet felt strangely heavy. the closer you got to the living room the louder their voices became.

everyone was scattered around like always. keonho was stretched across the couch, martin was sitting on the floor, seonghyeon was leaning against an armrest, juhoon was scrolling on his phone and james was sitting near the edge of the couch.

nobody noticed you at first. you just stood there, watching them.

your throat tightened and your vision started blurring. before you even realized it tears were already sliding down your face.

one after another.

you quickly wiped at them but it didn’t help. a quiet sniffle escaped you, and immediately every conversation stopped.

everyone looked over. the second they saw your face their expressions changed completely.

you stood there crying, looking absolutely destroyed, and suddenly nobody looked very proud of the prank anymore.

another sob escaped you, then another.

and suddenly the words came pouring out.

“i’m sorry.”

the room stayed silent.

“i’m sorry if i did something wrong. i know i can be annoying sometimes and i know i talk too much and maybe i did something without realizing it but can somebody please just tell me what i did?”

your voice cracked so badly you barely recognized it.

nobody moved. nobody spoke.

which only made everything worse.

tears kept pouring down your face. “please just talk to me. i don’t understand what’s happening. if you’re mad at me then just tell me. please. i can fix it if you tell me. i swear i can fix it.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. your chest hurt. everything hurt. “i don’t care if you’re angry at me. i don’t care if i messed up. just please stop ignoring me. please. i can’t do this again.”

everyone looked horrified. you were crying so hard you could barely breathe.

“you don’t understand. i spent all day trying to figure out what i did. i kept replaying everything over and over and over again and i couldn’t think of anything. i couldn’t sleep. i couldn’t eat. please tell me so i can fix it.” your knees suddenly gave out beneath you.

before you could hit the floor james was already moving. he practically launched himself off the couch as he wrapped his arms around you immediately, holding you up before you collapsed completely.

the second he touched you a broken sob tore from your throat.

because finally, someone was acknowledging you.

you buried your face into his chest like a child, which you literally were, crying so hard your entire body shook.

james looked sick. his arms tightened around you. “y/n.”

it was the first time any of them had spoken to you properly in almost twenty four hours.

you completely broke. james slowly lowered himself to the floor with you still clinging to him.

he held you tightly, one hand rubbing your back.

the other holding your head against his chest. he kept pressing small kisses against your hair, your forehead, the top of your head. anything he could reach.

“i’m sorry.” his voice sounded horrible. “i’m so sorry.”

you couldn’t stop crying. your lungs felt like they were on fire.

“what did i do?” you whispered between sobs. “please tell me what i did.”

the room fell silent again. nobody wanted to be the one to say it.

finally keonho forced himself to speak. “it was a prank.”

your crying immediately slowed. for a second you thought you heard him wrong.

“…huh?”

nobody answered immediately. your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

keonho looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. “we’re really sorry y/n. we thought it would be funny. we weren’t trying to hurt you. we just thought it’d be one of those dumb pranks and we didn’t realize you’d take it like…”

he couldn’t even finish the sentence because suddenly you were staring at all of them completely frozen.

then you shoved yourself away from james like being near him physically disgusted you. And to be fair, at that moment he did disgust you.

you shoved him hard enough that he nearly lost his balance.

everyone flinched.

you slowly stood up, your legs felt weak and vision was blurry from the tears.

somehow you looked angrier than any of them had ever seen you. “what the fuck is actually wrong with you guys?”

nobody answered.

“seriously. what the fuck is wrong with you?”

james stood up slowly. “y/n.”

“don’t.” your voice shook. “just shut up.”

the room immediately fell silent again as you stared at all of them.

“you know exactly what happened when i first moved in.” your voice cracked. “every single one of you knows.”

guilt immediately flooded every face in the room.

“you know how miserable i was.” you pointed at them with a shaky hand. “you know how hard that was for me.” tears kept falling down your face.

“half of you wouldn’t even acknowledge me when i spoke. i’d walk into a room and nobody would look up. nobody would answer me. nobody would include me in anything. i spent months wondering what was wrong with me.”

nobody could look you in the eye anymore. “you made me feel like i wasn’t wanted here.”

silence.

“and after all that, after all the conversations we’ve had, after all the times i’ve told you how badly that affected me.”

your voice broke completely.

“you thought this would be funny?”

nobody spoke. nobody defended themselves, because there wasn’t anything they could say.

“do you know how yesterday felt?”

you looked directly at keonho, then juhoon, then seonghyeon. you didn’t even bother looking at james. for some reason, you were most upset with him.

“i genuinely thought we were back there again.” tears streamed down your face. “when you ordered food without me i thought that was it. i thought you all finally got sick of me and nobody wanted me around anymore.”

james looked like he was about to cry too. martin had his head lowered. juhoon looked absolutely miserable. seonghyeon couldn’t even look in your direction. keonho looked the guiltiest of all of them. you could tell immediately he was the one who had the idea to prank you.

“i spent the entire night wondering what i did wrong, and i couldn’t think of a single thing.” your breathing shook.

you wiped at your face angrily. “have you guys even changed?”

“seriously.” your voice came out quieter this time, more hurt than angry. “have you?”

still nothing.

you shook your head, disappointed, hurt and angry.

you looked at the people who had become your family, and somehow right now they felt like strangers.

“jesus, how can i be younger than all of you but still more mature?”

james took a small step forward. “y/n please.”

you immediately stepped back, and the look on james’s face shattered.

you shook your head, unable to even look at them anymore and then without another word you turned around, walked to the front door, and left.

the apartment door slammed shut behind you. for several seconds nobody moved, or spoke.

because the second that door closed every single one of them finally realized that what they thought would be a harmless joke had just reopened wounds they should have never touched in the first place.

©cortismoon all rights reserved. Please do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

taglist: CLOSED

@fimmisstuff @konolien @jiyeons-closet @seonghyeonskibidi @ri-eveowe @ocyeanicc @cherid0ll @tetsur0-1 @claireo-o @peetabreaaad @stxrripure @lunaryoongie @stargirlxe @aespaqq @seovk1 @hrrystylesss12345 @paydadakoksevmiyorum @rie-diculous @boochisuri @isackiscunty @h0neylemon @stxr-lilac @vzergg @6rei-ji@cupidvx @vavavy @hans-sweetie @faeriwonz @fromsaltandsea @sunkissezd @beljakovina @aphantassia @hyeoncake @ningninjas @sidluvskeonho @lucy1568 @lalipop143 @sourcandyfish @tinkerbellsgf @saaaaasie07 @skyeincc @amethyystlvr @hyuneskkami @cosmicwintr @sonyui @lynvriee @hheerrmmiitt @ilovemamamuti @thisismepls @anglheartz

[seolbby]

ragebaiting your bf at 1am 𓂃۶ৎ ⠀

CORTIS x fem! reader 𑣲𑣲 fluff - smau - headcannon 𑣲 boyfriendau! chaotic energy 💬

🧁 join our rewards program! permanent taglist!

[sunnyxjames]

“UR SO PRETTY” OK? THEN CARRY A PHOTO OF ME IN UR WALLET.

IN WHICH…each member gets a photo of you and puts it in their wallet.

none of theses photos are mine! from pinterest

[hooniqlo]

엄성현 - overdrive !

part 1 part 2

sypnosis when keonho posts a picture of his sister and seonghyeon, his bestfriend suddenly forgets how to act.

pairing non idol!eom seonghyeon x keonho's sister!reader. reader portrayed as stella from hearts2hearts. ahn keonho! as readers brother.

warnings ! alot of swearing, attempts at humour, gay jokes, seonghyeon is down bad and its very obvious. do not mind the timestamps pls!!

a/n hello everyone!! this is my first ever au on this account and its genuinely something i came up with quick but i really do hope you enjoy it!! if you have any other smau ideas pls request bc im so down for anything. part 2 will be out in a while (will link it here when im finished)!! thank you sm and enjoy ❤

comment to be in the taglist !!

[nxliee]

⁠ ❤︎⁠ kim juhoon — “i need you.”

𑣲⋆｡˚ in which you find ur bf juhoon crying, alone.

— bf!juhoon , fem!reader , skinship , kissing , tears , emotion , weakness, sad!juhoon, comforting!reader

AU note: hi everyone! im so grateful for the amount of love i’ve been receiving,,, im genuinely shocked. im so happy you guys are enjoying my writing! the ending of this got a little rushed as it is 2AM but, I hope you guys love reading this as much as i liked writing it ILY <3

Juhoon is never the nonchalant boy everyone assumes he is; he’s the opposite. People often mistake his calmness as nonchalance, but you know that he feels more than everyone, he loves deeply, he feels deeply and he wants to be love. He’s never been the boy to shrug off his emotions and say he ‘doesn’t care’, he feels it all so heavily, especially when he’s alone. 

That’s why when you came to the dorm to surprise your boyfriend Juhoon, nothing could’ve prepared you for your heart to ache so strongly. 

You figured you’d surprise him - slip into his bed, nuzzle into the crook of his neck, or maybe just scare him for a laugh. 

The lights are off but his shoes are still by the door, the keys are still in their bowl and his jacket is hung lazily. 

He’s definitely home. 

“Jju?” You called out, but there was no answer, just silence. 

Then you heard it.

You carefully took off your shoes, placing them neatly by the door and padded through the corridor. 

Approaching his bedroom, you hear a sound that doesn’t belong to Juhoon. Not the Juhoon you’re familiar with anyways. Not the cheerful Juhoon that loves sharing animal videos to you. The sound is small, weak and punched out. 

Your heart skips a beat. 

You slowly push open the bedroom door to see your boyfriend, Juhoon, in a small shrivelled up ball by his bed - not in it, just resting against the mattress with his knees locked to his chest. 

He’s crying. 

Not the type of dramatic crying on TV where you weap and throw yourself around, it’s the silent, ugly cry where all you can do is raise a hand to your mouth to muffle any sounds. His eyes are squeezed shut, one hand grasping a pillow so tightly his knuckles are white and his face is streamed in tears. 

He hasn’t seen you yet, but the sight of your Juhoon like this broke every single piece of you. Your baby, your lifeline, your everything, is huddled up crying and the worst part of it is that he’s alone. He didn’t tell you anything.

“Juhoon?” Your voice came out broken and shaky. 

You can see it then, his whole body locks up. His eyes snap open, meeting your gaze. But his eyes are full of so much despair, they looked red raw and wrecked. He scrambles to his face, aggressively wiping the tears away like they were never there.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” He said, shuffling awkwardly in his clothes.

At this point, you feel like you’ve failed him. You shut the door behind you and crawl next to him, sitting together on the cold floor together, shoulder to shoulder. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” You ask. 

His head drops.

“I didn’t want to burden you or anything.” His voice cracks.

“Baby, what?” You lift his fragile head by his chin, forcing him to look at you. “What’s going on?” 

A breath punches out of him, from his gut. His shoulders shake and he buries his head into your chest, you hold him, cradle him. You leave soft kisses in his hair, rubbing his back in slow small circular motions. 

Then he says it: 

“I don’t want to lose you.” 

You feel your heart crack straight down the middle. 

Instinctively, you hold him even tighter. Squeezing the love of your life in your arms. It’s not often Juhoon cries but when he does, you’d do anything to make it stop. To protect him from any hurt in the world. 

“Jju look at me.”

He shakes his head, sniffling into you. 

“Please?” You add. 

And this costs him, he looks at you. His eyes are rimmed red and you can tell he’s been scrubbing at them: fighting his tears. God, it’s devastating.

“I just thought about us, about you,” He says, just above a whisper. “I thought about a life where you wouldn’t be with me.” 

You gently thumb a tear off his blushed cheek. “I would never,” You kiss his forehead. “Never, ever leave you. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He answers, like he’s confessing a crime. “I love you so much-“ his breath hitches, “it hurts to even imagine living without you and I don’t know what to do, it’s so scary needing you like this.” 

This time, he pulls you in desperately, clinging to your shirt like you might disappear any second. He almost stumbles into you, like you’re the only thing holding him up.  

“I’m not going anywhere, i’ve got you, I promise.” You reply, rocking him back and forth. 

Juhoon is taller than you, but in this moment you hold him like he’s the smallest, most delicate thing on this planet. 

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead on yours, taking in your scent. You lay a soft peck onto his lips, and he returns it. The kiss is slow and weak but full of so much love, a type of love you can’t define with words. His lips are salty and swollen, ever so slightly quivering under the pressure of yours. After, you stay in that position for a while, embracing each other in silence. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” Juhoon says weakly, “I just wanted to be easy for you. I don’t want to make your life difficult.” 

You cup his face in your hands, his cheeks are still damp and warm. 

“Loving you is the easiest thing i’ve ever done,” You say. “And i’m here for you, whenever you need me, especially when you’re sad.” 

He melts into your touch, kissing the inside of your palm. 

____________________________________________________

The crying has stopped 10 minutes ago, maybe even 20. Time moves weirdly when your heart is heavy. 

You and Juhoon are in bed together, he insisted on just staying on the floor but you couldn’t let that happen. It didn’t make any sense. He’s a tangle of shame next to you, half under the covers, half out. His face is still blotchy and stained with tears, and you can tell that he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But you do, you see all of him. 

You’re on your side, one hand on his chest, feeling his heart rate slowly start to come down. 

“I’m embarrassed,” He admits. “I’m not supposed to do that.” 

“Cry?” You question. 

He looks at you directly in the eyes. “Need you like that.” 

Your chest aches once again and you shift closer, as close as you possibly can. You throw your legs over his. 

“Too bad,” You murmur into his shirt. “Because, I need you too.” 

Then slowly, scared you’ll change your mind, he holds your waist. The moonlight is cutting across his face and you can see his eyes are still puffy, he looks so fragile like this. 

Later, you know you’ll laugh about this together but for now, you kiss him with every inch of love you have.