The first thing you notice about China is how loud the sets are.
Not chaotic loud. Efficient loud.
Headsets crackling in Mandarin. Stage crew rolling giant cameras across polished studio floors. Makeup artists chasing idols with powder puffs while producers count down to rehearsal over the speakers.
And somehow, in the middle of all of it—
“Yah, careful!”
A familiar deep voice catches a wobbling prop before it crashes into a lighting rig.
You freeze.
Because even after years, some voices stay recognizable.
You look up from your phone just in time to see him.
Jackson Wang.
Still broad-shouldered. Still absurdly energetic. Still moving through a room like he belongs in every corner of it.
He laughs at something one of the staff says in Mandarin, bowing quickly before turning—
And spotting you.
His expression blanks.
Then shifts.
Recognition.
“…No way.”
You blink once.
Then smile slowly.
“Senior.”
Jackson stares for another full second before breaking into disbelieving laughter.
“Oh my god.”
He points at you dramatically like you’ve personally betrayed him.
“You?”
You laugh.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“What are you doing here?!”
“I’m filming the show?”
“No, no.” He walks closer, eyes narrowed in exaggerated suspicion. “That shy little trainee from music shows is gone. Who are you?”
You grin.
“And you still talk too much.”
That earns another loud laugh from him.
Exactly the same as you remember.
Only somehow warmer now.
Older.
More confident.
More dangerous.
—
Years ago, backstage at music shows in Seoul, you barely spoke.
You were young then. Newly debuted. Nervous all the time.
You remembered GOT7 vividly because they were impossible not to notice.
Loud.
Chaotic.
Every waiting room near theirs sounded like a wrestling match.
Jackson especially.
He’d bow to every staff member, joke with camera operators, then somehow still have energy left to terrorize his members.
You mostly observed from a distance.
Back then, he was your senior in every sense.
Experienced. Famous. Confident.
And you—
You were the girl who kept her eyes down and spoke softly enough that managers constantly told you to project your voice.
You remembered one particular night vividly.
You’d dropped your cue cards backstage while rushing toward rehearsal.
Papers everywhere.
Mortifying.
And before your own manager could even help, Jackson had crouched beside you gathering them with quick hands.
“You okay?” he’d asked kindly.
You’d nodded too fast to even form words.
He’d smiled.
“Don’t be nervous. You’re doing well.”
Then he ran off because someone screamed his name from down the hallway.
You’d thought about that interaction for weeks afterward.
Not because you had a crush.
Okay maybe a tiny one.
But because kindness sticks.
Especially in industries where everyone’s exhausted.
Now, years later, you stand in front of him in designer heels and a fitted black stage outfit while stylists fuss over your hair.
And Jackson is staring.
Really staring.
“…You changed.”
You tilt your head.
“Hopefully in a good way.”
“Oh, definitely in a good way.”
The words come out before he can stop them.
One of the staff nearby chokes on their drink.
Jackson doesn’t even look embarrassed.
If anything, he doubles down.
“You got scary.”
“Scary?”
“You walk like you own the building now.”
You smirk slightly.
“Maybe I do.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
Then he laughs again, shaking his head.
“Yeah. Okay. This is crazy.”
—
The show becomes significantly harder to survive after that.
Because Jackson decides you’re entertaining.
Which means he keeps appearing beside you.
During rehearsals.
During meal breaks.
Between takes.
“Your Mandarin got good.”
You glance over from your script.
“Thank you.”
“When did that happen?”
“I studied.”
“That sounds fake.”
You snort.
“You’re annoying.”
“You used to think I was cool.”
“I was seventeen.”
“Ouch.”
But he’s grinning when he says it.
Always grinning around you now.
The staff notices too.
You notice the staff noticing.
Especially during filming.
The episode concept is simple enough: celebrity teams competing in games and challenges.
Unfortunately, Jackson is very competitive.
And unfortunately for you, your chemistry together becomes immediate entertainment.
“You can’t betray your own team!” you yell as Jackson steals your clue card during a game.
“I absolutely can!”
“You’re horrible!”
“You love it!”
The cast erupts laughing.
The cameras love you together.
You hate that you love it too.
Because it’s easy with him.
Suspiciously easy.
During one challenge, you have to balance across moving platforms over a foam pit.
You nearly make it.
Nearly.
Then your foot slips.
A startled noise leaves you as you pitch sideways—
Only for a hand to catch your wrist instantly.
Strong.
Steady.
Jackson.
“You got it,” he says automatically.
The studio lights flash across his face.
For one weird second, everything slows.
His hand around yours.
His grip tightening reflexively.
His eyes flicking over your expression to make sure you’re okay before helping steady you completely.
And the audience absolutely loses their minds.
“OHHHHHHHH—”
You immediately burst out laughing.
Jackson groans dramatically.
“Why are they like this?!”
“Because you grabbed me like we’re in a drama.”
“I was saving your life!”
“From foam?”
“Dangerous foam!”
Even the MC wipes tears laughing.
But later, when cameras pause for reset, Jackson quietly leans closer.
“You actually okay though?”
The softness catches you off guard.
You nod once.
“I’m okay.”
His gaze lingers another second too long.
Then he steps back.
“Good.”
—
It gets worse after the dance segment.
Because apparently someone in production discovers old clips of your rookie years.
Including one particularly evil backstage video where you bow silently at the camera then flee after realizing Jackson accidentally walked into frame behind you.
The studio screams.
Jackson nearly falls out of his chair laughing.
“YOU RAN AWAY FROM ME?”
“I was shy!”
“You looked terrified!”
“I basically was!”
“Oh my god.” He clutches his chest dramatically. “I thought I was handsome.”
“You were loud.”
“That hurt my feelings.”
“You survived.”
Barely.
He keeps replaying the clip on the monitor anyway.
“Look at you,” he says between laughs. “Tiny little baby idol.”
You cover your face.
“I’m leaving.”
“No, come back, this is incredible.”
Then the old clip transitions into present day footage from earlier.
You standing confidently during rehearsal.
Smirking at the camera.
Teasing him effortlessly.
The contrast is almost absurd.
Even Jackson notices.
His laughter fades slightly as he watches the newer footage.
Then he glances sideways at you.
Something quieter enters his expression.
“…You really did grow up.”
The words are softer than expected.
More sincere.
Your chest tightens unexpectedly.
“Yeah,” you say quietly.
His eyes stay on you.
“Good for you.”
And suddenly the teasing feels different.
Heavier somehow.
Not in a bad way.
Just real.
—
The flirting starts accidentally.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
It starts during a late-night meal break after filming runs overtime.
Most of the cast looks half-dead.
Jackson still somehow has energy.
You sit across from him in the studio cafeteria while he steals food directly from your plate.
“Unbelievable.”
“You weren’t eating it.”
“I was about to.”
“That sounds slow.”
You roll your eyes.
Then notice sauce at the corner of his mouth.
Without thinking, you reach over with a napkin.
“Hold still.”
Jackson freezes.
Completely freezes.
You wipe the sauce away casually before realizing the entire table has gone silent.
One cast member looks ready to explode.
Another is openly filming.
Jackson stares at you.
“…What?”
You blink.
Then realize what you just did.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he repeats.
You suddenly feel warm.
Which is irritating because you are not the shy rookie anymore.
You recover quickly.
“You had sauce on your face, senior.”
The title rolls off your tongue teasingly.
Jackson leans back slowly, eyes still fixed on you.
“…You know what you’re doing now.”
You smile innocently.
“Maybe.”
“Oh, you’re dangerous.”
The thing is—
You think he likes dangerous.
—
Over the next few filming days, something shifts between you.
More lingering touches.
More eye contact.
More moments where conversations become quieter when no one else is listening.
You discover Jackson is still endlessly energetic off-camera, but now there’s depth underneath it.
He talks about producing.
About burnout.
About learning who he is outside of fame.
About leaving Seoul and rebuilding himself in China almost from scratch.
One night after filming, you both end up sitting alone backstage while staff dismantle equipment nearby.
You’re exhausted, curled sideways on a couch still in partial stage makeup.
Jackson sits beside you with a water bottle balanced against his knee.
“You know,” he says suddenly, “I used to think you didn’t like us.”
You turn your head.
“What?”
“You were always so quiet around GOT7.”
“I was quiet around everyone.”
“True.”
You laugh softly.
Then shrug.
“I actually liked seeing you guys backstage.”
“Really?”
“You felt…” You search for the word. “Safe.”
Jackson looks genuinely surprised.
“You guys were loud and annoying and everywhere,” you continue. “But you always seemed close. Comfortable with each other.”
His expression softens immediately at the mention of his members.
“Yeah.”
“You reminded me that idols could still have fun.”
For a second, he just looks at you.
Not teasing.
Not performing.
Just looking.
Then he smiles softly.
“That means a lot actually.”
The room grows quieter around you.
Your heartbeat suddenly feels louder than the production crew nearby.
Jackson taps his fingers lightly against the water bottle before speaking again.
“You know what’s funny though?”
“What?”
“If rookie-you could see you now?”
You grin.
“She’d panic?”
“She’d absolutely panic.”
You laugh.
“She’d also probably pass out knowing she flirts with you now.”
Jackson nearly chokes.
“Oh my god, you admitted it.”
You immediately regret everything.
“Nope.”
“You literally said—”
“No evidence.”
“You flirt with me?”
“You’re delusional.”
Jackson is grinning so hard now it’s unbearable.
“You flirt with me,” he repeats smugly.
You stand abruptly.
“I’m going home.”
He catches your wrist before you can fully walk away.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop you.
Your breath catches slightly.
Jackson looks up at you from the couch.
Still smiling.
But softer now.
“Stay a little longer.”
The teasing disappears completely from his voice.
And somehow that affects you more.
Slowly, you sit back down.
Closer this time.
Neither of you mentions it.
—
The internet notices long before either of you say anything out loud.
Clips trend constantly.
Jackson staring at you during rehearsals.
You laughing into his shoulder after a failed challenge.
The infamous wrist grab.
The cafeteria moment.
Comments explode everywhere in Korean, Chinese, and English.
“THE TENSION???”
“He looks at her like he’s fascinated.”
“She’s the only person who can outflirt Jackson Wang.”
“GOT7 sunbaenim finally met his match.”
Jackson sends you one particularly unhinged edit at two in the morning.
You: this is your fault
Jackson: OUR fault
You: don’t drag me into this
Jackson: too late :)
You stare at the message longer than necessary.
Then smile despite yourself.
—
The final filming day arrives faster than expected.
The atmosphere feels strangely emotional.
Staff taking photos.
Cast exchanging gifts.
Everyone exhausted but sentimental.
You finish your last interview segment and bow repeatedly to the crew before stepping off set.
And immediately spotting Jackson waiting nearby.
Black hoodie. Hands in pockets.
Looking unusually nervous.
“You leaving already?” he asks.
“My flight’s early.”
“Oh.”
Something about his expression makes your stomach tighten.
You step closer.
“What?”
He exhales through his nose.
Then laughs once under his breath like he’s annoyed at himself.
“I’m trying to act normal about this.”
“About what?”
“You leaving.”
The honesty lands directly in your chest.
Jackson rubs the back of his neck before meeting your eyes again.
“When I heard you were guesting on the show, I thought it’d just be nostalgic.”
You stay silent.
“But then you showed up like…” He gestures vaguely toward you. “This.”
You laugh softly.
“This?”
“Confident. Funny. Ridiculously pretty.” He points accusingly. “Mean to me.”
“I’m not mean.”
“You steal my peace.”
Your heart skips.
Jackson notices immediately.
Of course he does.
He steps closer now too.
Close enough that the noise of the studio fades into background blur.
“I like who you became,” he says quietly.
No teasing now.
No cameras.
Just him.
“And I think I’d really regret it if this ended as just a TV show.”
Your pulse pounds hard enough to hurt.
Years ago, you could barely speak around him.
Now you hold his gaze steadily.
“Good thing I don’t want it to end there either.”
The smile that spreads across his face is devastating.
Warm.
Bright.
Real.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jackson laughs softly under his breath, relief visible all over him.
Then he opens his arms dramatically.
“Come here.”
You roll your eyes even as you step forward.
His hug is immediate warmth.
Strong arms wrapping around you tightly enough to make your chest ache a little.
You feel him exhale against your hair.
And for a moment, neither of you lets go.
Not the shy girl from backstage anymore.
Not just the loud senior idol either.
Just two people who met again at exactly the right time.
Because some people asked me to make a post here too... I'm doing it. (I AM SO SORRY FOR SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE IN THE VIDEO😂)
Exactly a month ago, my best friend and I, with so many hassles and struggles, managed to meet in Shanghai and go to the Nike event where Jackson was appearing.
We were there from 10 a.m. because we had no idea when he would show up... and we waited for seven long hours. ⏳
And then... there he was.
My pretty, amazing boy. 🥹
I don't know if this is the place to share it, but... I lost my father last year. He was my best friend, my world. After losing him, I crumbled completely.
I know it might sound cheesy, but truly, Jackson and all of GOT7’s content (and honestly BTS content too) kept me sane during those impossible moments.
After losing everything, holding on to those little pieces of joy was the only thing that kept me alive... the only thing that gave me strength to stay standing for my mother.
This man has helped me in more ways than I can ever express. In some of the darkest and most difficult moments of my life, his presence, his content, was a light that kept me going.
He inspired me to pick up my pen again and start writing stories after ten long years of silence.
And as if seeing Jackson wasn’t already a dream come true… I was also blessed with the unexpected joy of seeing the amazing #EricNam.
These two men, true gentlemen in every sense of the word, left me absolutely speechless.
Eric was so kind… he even stood up without hesitation just because I asked to shake his hand. That small, thoughtful gesture meant the world to me. 💖
After this experience, my love and respect for both of them have grown even deeper. Moments like these stay with you forever. 🌟
So when I say, my dream came true, I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
The event was very short, and all I got to do was shake Jackson’s hand... but for me? It was enough. It was everything. 🥹
For a moment, I was floating among the clouds. ☁️
I’m endlessly grateful for that day, for that moment, and for the kindness these two incredible men showed.
Thank you, Jackson and Eric.
Thank you for making broken hearts feel seen and for bringing light to the darkest days. ❤️
