this is where my thoughts become characters and my feelings become plotlines. stay awhile — you’re very welcome here.
I write because it’s the only way I know how to make sense of the world — or at least the way it feels inside my head. There are stories I carry that don’t have a place in real life, but they find their way here, dressed in fiction. My characters say things I couldn’t. They fall in love the way I hope to. They ache in ways I understand. Writing lets me feel everything at once — safely, quietly, and fully.
This space is a small part of me, stitched together with plotlines, late-night thoughts, and soft rewrites. Some stories are made of dreams; others are built from memories I’ve blurred and reshaped. If you read anything here and it made you feel even a little — like being seen, heard, or simply not alone — then I’ve done what I came here to do. Thank you for being here.
FICTION
When Our Paths Aligned
Off Script, On You (Coming soon 🔜)
DRABBLES
JENO:
The Summer We Almost Happened
JAEMIN:
When Silence Becomes the Answer
all banners & dividers that I used in all my posts belong to @saradika-graphics — thank you for your lovely work 🌷💜
📌 DISCLAIMER:
All stories posted on this blog are works of fiction. While inspired by real artists or places, all scenarios, characters, and relationships are completely imaginary. I do not own or represent any idols, companies, or events mentioned. These fictions are written with love and respect for the artists. No harm or offense is intended. Please enjoy them as what they are — stories from the heart 💭
It’s so frustrating when you know you need help, but money gets in the way. Mental health support shouldn’t feel like a luxury—it’s something everyone needs.
The worst part is, sometimes all you really need is someone to just listen, and even that costs.
Her manager was relentless, her team stretched thin, and her body was still reminding her it hadn’t fully recovered. She did her best to push through, but by the second week, even walking into the practice room felt like wading through water.
Still, she smiled. Still, she performed.
Because everyone was watching.
The news of the drama offer had leaked earlier than SM planned, and the entertainment sites had gone wild. Headlines called it the “casting of the year,” and her name trended for three days straight. Fans flooded her socials with messages like “Queen in hanbok, let’s go!!” and “Our Jane leading a sageuk?? Nation’s new actress incoming!”
But the weight of those expectations pressed harder than any stage lights ever had.
“Jane, focus,” the vocal coach snapped lightly, pulling her back to reality. “You missed the pitch.”
She nodded, adjusting her mic. “Sorry. Again.”
Later, in the conference room, stylists spread hanbok sketches across the table—concept designs for the drama. At the same time, another team showed her mood boards for the album photoshoot. The contrast was dizzying—regal warrior in one world, glamorous pop star in the other.
Her manager rubbed her temples. “We’ll have to stagger everything. Album teasers in December, drama filming in January… if you agree to it. But Jane—this will push you to your limits. No room for mistakes.”
Jane stared at the papers. “And if I can’t handle it?”
Her manager’s voice softened. “Then you’ll burn out before the spotlight even reaches you.”
The silence between them said everything.
By nightfall, Jane found herself back in the studio, recording guide vocals. Her throat was tired, but the song felt too personal to leave unfinished. Lyrics about carrying weight alone, about searching for a hand in the dark—it was almost like her heart had written it before her mind caught up.
She closed her eyes, pouring everything into the mic, until her phone buzzed on the table.
A message from Johnny:
She chuckled faintly.
But the next buzz wasn’t Johnny. It was a notification from a news article someone tagged her in.
“Rumored Male Lead for Jane Kim’s Drama: SM’s Jaehyun Considered.”
Her breath caught. She stared at the headline, unable to move.
Across town, Jaehyun was staring at the same article.
The group chat was already exploding with teasing messages, half in disbelief, half in amusement.
He didn’t type anything. He just sat there, phone heavy in his hand, wondering why Jane hadn’t told him herself.
That weekend, their paths finally crossed at the company building. She was coming out of a meeting; he was arriving for a quiet practice.
Their eyes met in the hallway—brief, charged, full of things unsaid.
“Jane,” he said, his voice careful.
“Jaehyun.”
A pause stretched between them, heavy with the weight of both their worlds.
“You didn’t tell me,” he said quietly.
She swallowed. “I didn’t know how.”
Another silence. Then the sound of her manager calling her name from down the hall.
She hesitated, but all she could manage was, “We’ll talk later.”
And then she was gone, leaving him standing there with more questions than answers.
That night, Jane sat alone in her room, the drama script on one side of her desk, her album notes on the other.
Pulled in every direction, she felt like she was standing on the edge of something—something that could either make her soar or break her entirely.
And somewhere in that fragile balance, Jaehyun’s name lingered, unspoken but constant.
The days that followed felt like a strange in-between. Jane’s body was still weak, but she was slowly regaining her rhythm. The IV fluids had helped, and her doctor’s orders were clear: rest, hydrate, pace yourself.
Her mornings were dedicated to quiet recovery—short walks in the practice room instead of full rehearsals, vocal warm-ups instead of marathon recordings. In the afternoons, she met with her team to finalize concepts for her first full album. Photoshoot ideas, tracklists, choreography proposals—all piled high, demanding her attention.
Still, she forced herself to take breaks, sipping ginger tea in between meetings, lying down in the studio when her head spun. Johnny texted her every night with reminders like “sleep, you chaos gremlin”, while her manager hovered like a hawk.
But the biggest shock came during a meeting with SM’s casting division.
“Jane,” her manager said, sliding a thick script across the conference table. “This is… something huge.”
She blinked. “A drama?”
“Not just a drama,” the casting director said, eyes gleaming. “A historical epic. Production house Hwarang Films is behind it—the same studio that created the last three record-breaking sageuks. They want you for the lead role.”
Jane’s heart skipped. “Lead role?”
“They saw your variety appearances, your stage presence, and… frankly, they think you’re the only one who can pull it off,” the director explained. “You’d be playing a warrior princess, hidden as a commoner by day, a strategist at night. Strong, layered, unforgettable.”
The weight of the script in her hands felt unreal. She flipped through the first pages—battlefields, royal intrigue, secret love letters, betrayal. It wasn’t lighthearted. It wasn’t easy. It was the kind of drama people cleared their schedules to watch.
“Everyone in the industry is already buzzing about this project,” her manager added. “If you say yes, it’ll be the most anticipated drama of the year.”
Her throat tightened. “But my album…”
“That’s the tricky part,” her manager admitted. “We’ll have to coordinate carefully. Filming is grueling. The schedule will test you. But if you pull this off…”
Jane sat back, stunned. For so long, she had focused on singing, on proving herself on stage. Acting was something she thought she’d explore eventually, maybe in cameos or side roles. Not this. Not a national project that could define her career.
Later that night, she sat in her practice room, script resting on her lap, untouched. Her phone buzzed.
Jane smiled faintly, but her chest was heavy. The stars she had gazed at in the vacation house felt far away now.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered: What will Jaehyun think?
For now, she had no answers. Just a script that could change everything.
Morning rehearsals bled into afternoon meetings, and nights were swallowed by recording sessions that stretched until dawn. Jane barely remembered what her apartment looked like anymore—she only saw rehearsal rooms, sound booths, and the glow of computer screens reviewing choreography cuts.
“Take five,” the choreographer called, and Jane dropped onto the studio floor, sweat running down her temples. Her lungs burned, but her mind kept racing.
Her manager crouched beside her, handing over a water bottle. “Jane, you’re doing great. The album’s coming together faster than expected. SM is planning for your first full album release in the fall. And—”
Jane looked up, half-expecting more schedules.
“—they’re considering a solo concert next year.”
Her chest tightened—not with fear this time, but disbelief. A solo concert. My name on the stage, the lights, the crowd… It was the kind of dream she had scribbled in journals years ago, not something she expected to hear so soon.
Before she could let it sink in, another piece of news dropped.
“And there’s one more thing.” Her manager’s tone softened. “You’ve been offered the lead role in an upcoming drama.”
Jane blinked. “Drama? As in… acting?”
“Yes. A romance drama, high-profile. They want you as the female lead. The male lead hasn’t been confirmed yet, but the production team is aiming for a name that will draw attention.”
Her heart skipped, though she didn’t know why. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the thought of standing across from some stranger and pretending to fall in love when her own heart was still tangled with memories of a rooftop kiss.
“I’ll… think about it,” she said, breathless.
Her manager smiled knowingly. “Don’t think too long. It’s a big opportunity.”
By the end of the week, her body felt like it was running on empty.
She pushed through one last rehearsal, but her steps wavered. When the song ended, she barely made it to the side before her knees buckled. Staff members rushed forward, steadying her arms.
Her vision blurred.
“She’s dehydrated,” someone said.
“Get her IV fluids, now.”
Minutes later, Jane lay on a small cot in the company’s medical room, the faint sting of a needle in her arm, clear fluid dripping steadily into her veins.
She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to her.
Through the haze, one thought lingered:
Dreams come true. But they weigh heavy too.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a quieter question stirred.
What happens when your dream collides with your heart?
Traffic hummed, neon signs blinked, and the air was thick with the scent of street food and exhaust. After days of mountain air and late-night laughter, it was jarring to be back among car horns and crowded sidewalks.
Jane sat in the backseat of Suho’s car, forehead leaning against the cool glass. Irene hummed softly beside him in the front, scrolling through her phone. The radio played some upbeat pop song, but Jane barely registered it.
Her mind was still back at the vacation house.
Back to lanterns drifting skyward.
Back to Jaehyun’s quiet “I don’t regret it.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and the rooftop kiss replayed like it always did—unexpected, fleeting, but heavy enough to anchor itself in her chest.
By the time they pulled up to her apartment, the sun was dipping low. She dragged her suitcase upstairs, dropped it by the door, and collapsed onto her bed without even changing.
Silence. No Haechan yelling about snacks. No Johnny knocking on her door to drag her into another dumb game. Just silence.
Her phone buzzed.
She smiled faintly at that. But then another notification slid in.
Her breath caught.
Just that. Simple. But her chest tightened all the same.
She stared at the screen, fingers hovering, unsure how to respond. Anything felt too much. Too little. Too obvious.
Finally, she typed:
The three little dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Jane set the phone down, lying back against her pillow. Her heart refused to calm.
She stared at the ceiling, the faint city glow spilling through her curtains. Life had resumed—practice schedules, work shifts, reality waiting at her doorstep.
The house was quieter than usual when Jane woke up. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, catching the dust motes in the air. Somewhere in the kitchen, pots clattered and voices hummed in low tones.
She stretched, feeling the weight of late nights and laughter still in her bones. This was their last morning here.
Downstairs, the scene was both chaotic and tender. Ryujin and Giselle were flipping pancakes, badly—half of them landing crooked on the plate. Suho scolded from behind the counter, while Irene calmly fixed everything with her usual grace. Haechan was stealing bites straight from the pan until Mark smacked his hand away.
“Breakfast thieves get no syrup privileges,” Mark declared.
“Oppression,” Haechan muttered, mouth full anyway.
Jane laughed, slipping into the room and tying her hair back. The table was already cluttered with plates, cups, and the remnants of their late-night feast.
They ate together in the kind of comfortable chaos only possible with people who had shared days of inside jokes and little secrets. Stories were retold, laughter spilled over, and even the groggy ones—like Jeno, who was still wearing his eye mask on his forehead—joined in.
But under it all, there was a quiet heaviness. Suitcases lined the hall. Shoes were neatly stacked by the door. Everyone knew this was goodbye, at least for now.
One by one, cars pulled into the driveway. Hug after hug, the group slowly unraveled. Giselle clung to Ryujin, promising they’d meet again soon. Haechan dramatically pretended to faint into Johnny’s arms, only to get shoved away with a laugh. Irene tucked herself into Suho’s side, already talking about their next plan.
Jane helped load bags into the trunk, her chest tightening with each slam of the car door.
When it was Jaehyun’s turn to leave, it wasn’t dramatic. He simply walked past her with his suitcase, then paused. Their eyes met—brief, steady.
“Thanks,” he said quietly. Just one word, but it felt heavier than all the others.
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Take care.”
He returned it—soft, fleeting—and then he was gone, sliding into the car as the engine rumbled to life.
Jane stood on the porch until the sound of tires faded down the road. The yard felt too big, too quiet now.
She wrapped her arms around herself, the breeze brushing against her skin. The week had been laughter, warmth, and unexpected moments under the stars. And now, it was memory.
She let out a long breath.
The vacation house stood still behind her, carrying the echoes of nights she knew she wouldn’t forget.
The living room buzzed with energy. Someone had dragged the karaoke machine out of the closet, and now chaos reigned. Yeji and Ryujin were belting a duet with dramatic gestures, while Haechan heckled from the couch, waving a throw pillow like a concert lightstick.
Jane laughed until her cheeks hurt, watching Mark stubbornly try to wrestle the mic away from Johnny, who refused to let anyone else sing. The air was warm, light, and threaded with the bittersweet knowledge that it was their last night here.
“Okay!” Suho announced, clapping his hands once the song ended. “Before we call it a night—everyone, come outside. We’ve got something prepared.”
Curiosity sparked. They followed him out onto the deck, where a box sat waiting. Inside were paper lanterns, folded neatly, with thin wires and candles tucked inside.
“Lanterns?” Jaemin’s eyes widened. “We’re really in a K-drama, huh?”
“Better,” Irene said, smiling. “One wish per person. Send it up, let it go.”
Excitement bubbled as the group fanned out across the yard, helping each other light the small candles inside the fragile paper. Soon, soft glows rose into the night sky, dozens of flickering dots ascending toward the stars.
Jane stood a little apart, holding her lantern steady against the wind. She hadn’t written anything down—her wish was too tangled for paper. Instead, she whispered it, barely audible.
Please let me be brave enough. Whatever this is. Whoever it’s with.
“Need help?”
The voice was low, careful. Jaehyun stood a step away, a flame from his lighter dancing between his fingers. His lantern was already glowing faintly beside him.
Jane hesitated, then nodded. He crouched slightly, shielding the wind as he lit hers. The paper filled with warmth, swelling gently in her hands.
“Ready?” he asked.
She swallowed, then released it with him. Their lanterns rose side by side, drifting upward until they were indistinguishable from the stars.
The group cheered as more lights dotted the sky, but Jane barely heard them. Her heartbeat was louder than everything.
When she realized Jaehyun hadn’t moved away, she glanced at him. He was still watching the lanterns, but his expression was softer, unreadable.
“About the other night,” he said suddenly, his voice low enough only she could hear.
Her chest tightened. “The rooftop?”
He gave a small, almost sheepish smile. “Yeah. That.”
Jane opened her mouth, closed it again. The words tangled.
“I didn’t plan it,” he admitted, eyes finally meeting hers. “But I don’t regret it.”
Something in her breath caught. The air felt too thin.
She looked down, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “I just… I didn’t know how to react.”
“I noticed,” he said lightly, but there was no teasing in his tone—just patience.
Jane’s lips curved into a small, embarrassed smile. “I ran.”
“You did,” he said, but there was a warmth in his eyes now. “It’s okay. I’m not asking for answers. Not yet.”
The silence stretched, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt like the air between them was alive, waiting.
The others were still laughing, shouting over which lantern flew highest, but here, on the edge of the crowd, it felt like the world had shrunk to just them.
Jaehyun tilted his head toward the sky. “For now… just let it be, yeah?”
Jane followed his gaze. Their lantern was a tiny speck now, swallowed by the stars. Slowly, she nodded.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Let it be.”
And so they stood there, shoulder to shoulder, saying nothing more—two figures grounded in the grass, watching their unspoken wish drift higher, carried into the night.
The night had settled quietly over the vacation house. Most of the group was already asleep or inside winding down, scattered across the living room in hoodies, blankets, and low murmurs.
The fire pit had died out. Only the faint glow from the patio lights remained.
Jane sat on one of the wooden deck chairs outside, sipping warm tea from a mismatched mug she found in the kitchen. The breeze was gentle, and the stars above were scattered like salt across velvet.
Her thoughts were a little quieter tonight—but still circling.
Footsteps echoed on the wooden planks.
“Hey, insomniac,” Haechan called, stepping outside with a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape and a banana in his hand.
She raised an eyebrow. “A banana?”
“Late-night potassium,” he said proudly, sitting beside her. “For emotional strength.”
She smiled. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. The kind that only comes after too much laughter and too much Soju.
“You okay?” Haechan asked casually, eyes scanning the stars.
“Yeah,” she said, then hesitated. “Just thinking.”
“Ah. Dangerous pastime.”
Jane smirked. “You?”
“I was bored. Jaemin fell asleep mid-sentence, Jeno locked himself in the bathroom with a face mask, and I figured the moon deserved my attention.”
She chuckled softly.
Then he looked at her.
“Wanna talk about Rooftop Kiss 2025™ or nah?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I knew you’d bring it up.”
“Listen, I’m not judging,” he said, raising his hands. “I mean, if I got kissed under the stars by someone as good-looking as Jaehyun, I wouldn’t be acting all mysterious about it.”
Jane rolled her eyes but stayed quiet.
Haechan leaned back. “Okay, for real. I know I mess around a lot, but… I saw your face this morning. You were somewhere else.”
She didn’t respond right away.
“I didn’t plan for it to happen,” she eventually said. “And when it did… I just… panicked.”
Haechan nodded. “You pulled a ‘rom-com lead who wakes up from the dream and sprints out of the castle before the clock strikes midnight.’”
“That’s weirdly accurate.”
He smiled. “Hey. It’s okay.”
She looked at him. “You ever felt like you were falling for something you weren’t ready for?”
Haechan leaned forward, picking at the banana peel. “Not really. I don’t fall. I float. I play.”
“You’re scared of falling?”
“I’m scared of not landing,” he said with a shrug. “So, I float instead.”
There was a beat of silence between them. She stared at the stars again.
“You know,” Haechan said, voice lighter, “for someone who’s caught in a classic slow-burn drama, you’re handling it pretty well.”
“I’m not in a drama.”
He gave her a look. “Girl, you literally ran away from a rooftop kiss. That’s peak K-drama behavior.”
Jane laughed—soft and real this time.
Then he added, “But just so you know… I’m not actually into you.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I mean, I flirt. I tease. I throw out lines like confetti. But it’s all fun, Jane. You're like—my chaotic friend who stress-drinks Soju and throws water balloons like a sniper.”
She stared at him for a second.
Then: “Thanks?”
“Welcome,” he said with a wink. “Besides, if I was into you, I wouldn’t be giving Jaehyun this much material to work with.”
Jane smiled into her cup.
He nudged her shoulder. “Whatever this thing is between you two—don’t force it. Don’t run from it either. Just… let it be.”
“Wow,” she said, surprised. “You’re wise tonight.”
“I ate a banana,” he said smugly. “That’s where the power comes from.”
She shook her head, smiling.
They sat quietly for a few more minutes. No pressure. No drama.
Just two friends under the stars, letting the world turn.
The sun was high, casting a golden sheen over the backyard of the vacation house. Morning had melted into afternoon, and Johnny had suggested a spontaneous water balloon battle to beat the heat.
By the time Jane stepped outside, the yard had been transformed. Buckets filled with colorful water balloons lined the patio, and garden hoses were coiled like snakes ready to attack. The air buzzed with laughter and revenge energy.
“Alright, let’s settle this once and for all!” Johnny shouted. “Team Sunshine vs. Team Chaos.”
Team Sunshine: Jane, Jaehyun, Irene, Suho, Yeji, and D.O.
Team Chaos: Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin, Karina, Ryujin, and Giselle.
“That team is unfair,” Haechan said, dramatically throwing on his bucket hat. “They’ve got visual power and emotional damage from last night.”
Jane glared. “Let it go.”
“Never,” he smirked. “I am fueled by rumors and hydration.”
The whistle blew (thanks to D.O.’s sound effects), and chaos exploded.
Screams. Laughter. Flying balloons. Jaemin sprayed the hose too early. Ryujin slid across the grass like a ninja. Giselle was dual-wielding water balloons like it was a K-drama war scene.
Jane was running with a balloon in each hand, hiding behind the tree when she felt someone behind her.
She spun—just in time for Jaehyun to hand her two more balloons. “You’re running low.”
Their fingers brushed briefly. Jane tried not to freeze.
“Thanks,” she said.
He nodded, expression unreadable. Then turned and sprinted back into the fray.
Before she could process anything, Haechan screamed, “JANE I LOVE YOU BUT I MUST SACRIFICE YOU FOR CHAOS!”
He launched a balloon straight at her, but it missed—hitting Jeno instead.
“YOU WERE AIMING AT ME?” Jeno yelled, soaked.
Haechan gasped. “No, babe, it was a misfire!”
Jane used the chance to hit both of them.
After the Water Fight
The sun began to dip, and everyone was drying off with towels, sitting in groups across the lawn. The air smelled like wet grass and sunscreen.
Jane stepped away for a moment, walking toward the garden edge to breathe.
Then, she heard footsteps behind her.
It was Jaehyun.
Still damp from the water fight, hair pushed back, holding a bottle of cold soda. He offered it silently.
She took it with a quiet thanks.
They stood side by side, not touching, not looking—but close enough to feel the space between them.
“About last night…” Jaehyun said, voice calm.
Jane didn’t look at him. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“But we will,” he replied. “Eventually.”
She sighed. “It was the Soju.”
“Maybe.”
A pause.
“But it wasn’t just that,” he added.
Jane finally looked at him. His expression wasn’t intense—just honest. Like he was still figuring it out too.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.
“Me neither.”
They didn’t speak for a long while after that. The sound of their friends laughing in the distance felt like a different world.
Then Jaehyun chuckled softly. “Haechan’s still writing fanfiction about us.”
Jane smiled. “He’s probably on Chapter 5.”
Another shared silence.
Another moment that didn’t demand anything—just two people feeling too much and saying too little.
And that was enough. For now.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
Chapter 17: Pancakes, Prying Eyes, and Pretending Nothing Happened
The smell of pancakes and garlic fried rice drifted through the vacation house like a gentle wake-up call. In the kitchen, Suho and Irene were already moving in sync—Suho flipping pancakes with expert precision while Irene plated eggs with calm elegance.
“Who burned the bacon?” Sehun called out, poking his head in.
“D.O., probably,” Irene teased.
D.O. scoffed. “As if. That was Jeno.”
“Why is everyone awake like they’re in a cooking show?” Ryujin yawned as she walked in with a blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Jane stayed in bed a little longer, eyes wide open. Her heart hadn’t stopped replaying last night. The rooftop. The silence. The kiss. The way her body had responded before her brain caught up. Then her reaction—running.
She sat up quickly, brushing her hair back. No one knows. No one saw. No one needs to know. She told herself over and over.
Downstairs, the living room was already lively. Haechan was wearing heart-shaped sunglasses he stole from Yeji, walking around with a spatula like a microphone.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Today’s breakfast special: betrayal and secrets!”
“Is this about you losing at Truth or Dare?” Jaemin asked, clearly enjoying himself.
“No,” Haechan said dramatically. “This is about someone sneaking off to the rooftop last night.”
Everyone paused.
Jane froze in the hallway.
“What rooftop?” D.O. asked casually.
“Oh don’t play innocent,” Haechan twirled. “I saw shadows. Two figures. Late at night. Under the stars. It was either a kiss or a wrestling match, and trust me, no one was fighting.”
Jeno laughed, “How romantic. Or suspicious.”
“Who was it?” Karina gasped.
“That’s the mystery,” Haechan said, dramatically sipping orange juice. “But whoever it was... they owe me answers. And coffee.”
Just then, Jane walked into the room.
All eyes turned.
She blinked. “Why are you all staring at me?”
“Because,” Haechan walked up, squinting behind his ridiculous glasses. “You have the face of someone who made memories.”
Also freshly showered. Also calm. Also trying very hard not to look at Jane.
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
The room erupted.
“AHHHHHHHHH,” Yeji screamed.
“BOTH OF YOU?” Giselle gasped.
“YOU WERE THE SHADOWS!” Jaemin pointed accusingly.
Jane’s eyes widened. “We weren’t doing anything! I went to get water—”
“And I went up for air,” Jaehyun added smoothly.
“That’s what everyone says before they fall in love,” Haechan muttered, flopping on the couch.
“Did you kiss?” Jeno asked directly.
“No,” Jane said too fast.
“Uh-huh,” Haechan squinted. “That’s exactly what someone who did kiss would say.”
“Nothing happened,” Jaehyun added, firm but calm.
Everyone stared at them. It was awkward. Very awkward.
Ryujin threw a pillow at Haechan. “Drop it, drama king.”
Suho finally stepped in. “Alright, kids, breakfast is served. Let's eat before Haechan starts writing fanfics.”
“Too late,” Haechan mumbled, scribbling in his Notes app.
Later That Morning
The dining table was full—eggs, rice, toast, fruit, and Soju regrets.
Jane tried to eat normally, chatting with Karina and Yeji, avoiding Jaehyun’s gaze across the table.
Meanwhile, Haechan leaned in next to her and whispered, “If you’re gonna fall for Jaehyun, at least let me be your Plan B.”
She choked on her egg.
“I’m serious,” he said, deadpan. “If you change your mind, I make great French toast.”
Jane side-eyed him. “You’re impossible.”
“And adorable. Don't forget that.”
Across the table, Jaehyun quietly watched them.
Not saying a word.
But Jane could feel it—his presence, his silence, and the memory of last night like a soft flame flickering between them.
There was no talk between them after breakfast. Just glances.
Just silence.
But the tension remained.
No one else knew the truth.
No one else knew that Jaehyun did kiss her.
No one knew she hadn’t stopped it—until she did.
And maybe... that was something only the two of them had to carry for now.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
The night sky blanketed the vacation house in quiet magic. Stars scattered across the heavens, the moon hung low, and the backyard glowed from the soft flickers of the campfire. The scent of roasted marshmallows, grilled snacks, and a hint of Soju filled the air.
Blankets were wrapped, socks mismatched, and friendships loud and alive.
Haechan clinked two Soju bottles together. “Alright you cowards, it’s time for Truth or Dare!”
“Oh no,” Yeji laughed. “We’re really doing this?”
“We are,” Johnny said, grabbing a camping chair. “Because Haechan will cry if we don’t.”
“I WILL,” Haechan confirmed, dramatically wiping an imaginary tear. “And you don’t want to see me ugly cry.”
The circle formed tighter, warmth radiating from the fire and the group’s laughter. Jane sat beside Ryujin and Jaemin, while Jaehyun settled across from her, hoodie loose and hands tucked in the sleeves. Jeno was to his left, munching on spicy chips like a silent judge.
The empty Soju bottle spun on the picnic mat. It pointed to Jane first.
“Wooo!” Jaemin whooped. “Truth or dare!”
“Dare,” Jane said confidently.
Mark grinned. “We’re starting strong.”
Haechan jumped in. “I dare you to stand up and do a dramatic runway walk to Jaehyun, wink at him, then drop a pickup line.”
The group exploded in cheers.
Jane groaned, “I hate you all,” but stood up.
The runway walk was dramatic, slow, and sass-filled. She stopped in front of Jaehyun, winked, and said, “Are you the campfire? Because you’re hot and I want s’more.”
The crowd lost it.
Even Jaehyun chuckled, clearly amused but slightly flustered.
“My turn now,” Jane said, spinning the bottle.
It landed on Jaehyun.
Everyone instantly shouted, “DARE!”
Haechan leaned forward like a cat about to pounce. “Oh, I got it. I dare Jaehyun to give Jane a lap pillow for one full minute. Eyes closed. No talking. Just vibes.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Wait—what!?”
Jaehyun looked at her, slow smirk forming. “Are you scared?”
She glared, cheeks heating. “I’m not!”
Jaehyun leaned back on his elbows. “Come on, then.”
Jane reluctantly laid her head on his lap, covering her face with her hands while everyone screamed and counted down a dramatic 60 seconds with fake violin music from Haechan’s phone.
“Time’s up!” Jeno laughed. “You guys looked way too peaceful.”
“Jealous,” Haechan muttered, grabbing a chip from Jeno’s lap. “That was supposed to be my lap.”
“Mine too,” Jaemin added, pouting.
“You two are chaotic,” Jane muttered, sitting up, flustered.
“Chaotically in love with you,” Haechan whispered, holding his heart.
The bottle spun again.
It landed on Haechan.
“TRUTH,” he shouted before anyone could speak. “I’m not doing anything that risks my dignity tonight!”
“Okay,” Ryujin smirked. “Is it true you once wrote Jane a love letter and didn’t send it?”
The circle went wild.
Haechan’s eyes widened. “WHO TOLD YOU THAT?”
“IT’S TRUE?” Jaemin gasped.
“I’m offended,” Jeno deadpanned. “You never wrote me anything.”
“Fine,” Haechan pouted. “I wrote a letter. I burned it. It was poetic. She didn’t deserve the chaos I was feeling.”
Jane laughed so hard she almost fell into the firepit.
Next up: Jaemin.
“Dare!” he yelled.
Mark smirked. “I dare you to reenact your most dramatic breakup—but with Haechan.”
Jaemin stood up and held Haechan’s hand.
“Haechan,” he said, voice trembling, “I loved you. But your love for Soju was stronger than your love for me.”
Haechan clutched his chest. “No! You knew the Soju was a metaphor for my pain!”
Everyone was howling.
“I’m crying,” Jane gasped.
The bottle spun one last time. It landed on Jeno.
“I dare you to—” Johnny began.
“No,” Jeno cut him off. “Truth.”
“Lame,” Haechan muttered.
Mark smirked. “Fine. Truth: If you had to be stuck on a deserted island with one girl here, who would it be?”
Jeno calmly looked around, then at Jane. “She has survival energy. I choose Jane.”
“OHHH?” Jaemin shouted.
Haechan scoffed loudly, “You pick the girl who lap-pillowed Jaehyun?”
“She picked me first,” Jaehyun said calmly.
“OKAY THAT’S IT,” Haechan stood. “I need air. And therapy.”
Everyone erupted in laughter as the night slowly calmed. Blankets were dragged in, shoes kicked off, and one by one, everyone went inside.
Later That Night
Jane rubbed her temples, feeling warm and drowsy from the Soju. She stepped out of her room, heading to the kitchen for water.
As she passed the hall, she noticed someone quietly climbing the stairs.
Curious, she followed.
The rooftop welcomed her with a gentle breeze and the hum of nighttime cicadas. And there he was.
Jaehyun stood alone, leaning on the railings, hoodie sleeves rolled up, his silhouette silver in the moonlight.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.
He turned, smiling faintly. “You too?”
“Needed water. Then forgot about it.”
She walked up beside him. Neither said anything for a while. The world felt quiet again.
Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence. “Tonight was fun.”
She nodded. “Haechan’s insane.”
“He’s a good kind of insane.”
Silence again.
Then he added, “It’s easy to laugh around you.”
Jane turned, surprised. “Me?”
Jaehyun looked at her now. “You make everything lighter. Even when things are heavy.”
Her heart did that thing again—the quiet skip.
They kept talking. About random things. About summer nights. About music and what they feared. Then, it happened.
No warning.
Jaehyun leaned in—slow, gentle.
And kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t planned. It was like the moment chose itself.
She didn’t stop him.
Not at first.
But then reality crashed in like a wave. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.
“I… I can’t.”
She pulled back, stumbling a step.
Then she turned and ran—barefoot, heart confused—into the house, into her room.
Jaehyun stood alone under the stars, eyes fixed on the sky, as if trying to make sense of the heartbeat he just shared.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
The Kim Siblings—Suho and Jane—finally made good on their plan: a much-needed escape to their family’s private vacation house by the countryside. It was Suho’s idea to invite their closest circle of friends from different labels, and everyone gladly said yes. A rare day off, a stunning lakeside house, and a break from rehearsals—it was a golden invitation.
Red Velvet’s Irene and Seulgi arrived first, greeting Jane with warm hugs. NCT’s Jaehyun, Haechan, Mark, Johnny, and Jaemin followed, with aespa’s Karina, Winter, Giselle, and Ningning not far behind. From EXO, Sehun, Chanyeol, D.O, and Xiumin came in one car, and ITZY’s Ryujin, Yeji, and Chaeryeong soon rolled in with excitement buzzing in the air.
The house was massive, a warm modern cabin with wide glass windows and a balcony that faced the lake. Suho stood proudly at the entrance like a host greeting VIP guests.
“Alright!” Suho clapped his hands. “This is how today’s going to work. Team divisions!”
Everyone groaned and laughed, already expecting games and penalties.
Suho pointed like a game show host. “Team Grocery: Jane, Haechan, Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark, and Ryujin.”
“Ohhh no,” Jane groaned, giving Haechan a side-eye. “Why am I with you again?”
“You love it. Admit it,” Haechan grinned, slipping on his shades like a diva. “Besides, I’ll make grocery shopping fun.”
“More like chaotic,” Johnny added, ruffling Jane’s hair like a big brother. “I’ll keep him in line. Maybe.”
“I doubt that,” Mark chuckled as he grabbed the car keys. “Let’s go, team chaos.”
At the Grocery Store
The grocery run was supposed to be a quick mission. It became a full-blown sitcom.
Ryujin and Jane pushed the cart. Haechan walked backward in front of them, holding up a bag of chips.
“Essential, right?” he asked, grinning.
“We’re not here for your midnight cravings,” Jane deadpanned.
“But what if Ryujin wants it?” Haechan turned to her with a wink.
Ryujin gave a cool smile. “Depends. You gonna cook it for me too?”
“Ohhh,” Mark laughed, nudging Haechan. “Bro, she’s smoother than you.”
Johnny, who was scanning the ingredients list Suho gave them, smirked. “Focus, team. Jane, you’re in charge of veggies. Ryujin and I will handle meat. Haechan, you get drinks. And Mark, snacks. Jaehyun... you're my cart buddy.”
Jaehyun chuckled, quietly sticking by Johnny. His eyes flickered toward Jane now and then. He liked watching her in normal, candid moments—laughing with Ryujin, rolling her eyes at Haechan, smiling when she caught Johnny pretending to model with a watermelon.
“You okay?” Johnny asked Jaehyun while they stood at the condiments aisle.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun said softly. “Just... this is nice.”
“Yeah, it is,” Johnny nodded. “It’s good to see her this happy.”
Back at the Vacation House
Meanwhile, back at the house, Suho, Irene, Sehun, and Xiumin were already preparing their planned dishes. The garden setup team—Karina, Yeji, Giselle, Chaeryeong—laid out plates, glasses, and folded napkins into cute designs.
As the grocery group returned, arms filled with bags, Haechan dramatically yelled, “The heroes have returned! I, for one, saved the budget and brought only essentials!”
Jane pulled out a giant bag of marshmallows from his side of the bag. “Really?”
“That’s for the campfire later!” he defended.
“Sure,” Ryujin said, trying not to laugh.
Mark handed Irene the list and saluted. “Mission accomplished.”
While everyone unloaded, Johnny caught Jane quietly humming as she set down the fruit basket.
“You look like you’re glowing today,” he said casually.
Jane smiled. “It’s just... this. Being with everyone. It’s nice.”
Jaehyun, a few steps away, glanced at her again. He didn’t say anything, but the sight of her laughing with Johnny, teasing Haechan, and walking side by side with Ryujin... it carved a small ache inside him. A familiar one. The feeling of wanting something but not knowing how to reach for it just yet.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
The photoshoot had a dreamlike quality—cloud-like backgrounds, gentle lighting, and outfits that draped over Jane like flowing stories. She was getting used to this now. The camera no longer felt like a stranger.
She moved naturally—eyes tracing the lens, chin tilted ever so slightly, hands soft but intentional. The creative director clapped his hands.
“She’s magnetic. Let’s move on to the next set.”
Backstage, Jane exhaled. A stylist brushed out her hair for the next outfit, while she sipped from a warm mug someone handed her.
That’s when a familiar voice called out from the corner, casual and mischievous.
“Whoa, are you secretly debuting as a model now?”
She turned—and there he was.
Baekhyun, smiling as if he’d just crashed a party and didn’t plan to leave soon.
“Baekhyun sunbaenim?!”
He grinned and walked closer, wearing a denim jacket and a hat pulled low, as if trying to sneak in unnoticed. “Hey now, no need to say the whole ‘sunbaenim’ thing with such surprise. You act like I’m the president.”
She laughed, feeling her nerves immediately melt. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Your manager called in a favor. Said someone’s been working nonstop and might need a little dose of fun.”
Jane raised an eyebrow. “And that person is you?”
Baekhyun winked. “Exactly. I’m great at fun. And giving good advice.”
“Really?”
He leaned in, mock-serious. “Of course. Advice of the day: Don’t forget who you are even while you’re becoming who you’ve always dreamed of being.”
She smiled. It wasn’t rehearsed or distant—it was real.
“Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that.”
He gave a short nod, then glanced around the studio. “Now, how about I watch the rest of your shoot and rate your poses? But be warned—I’m strict.”
Jane laughed again, heart a little lighter. “Deal.”
Later That Night – Jaehyun’s POV
He sat alone on the rooftop of the dorm, hoodie pulled over his head, earphones in but no music playing.
The city hummed below. A breeze passed by.
He should be asleep—but his mind was elsewhere.
He wondered how her shoot went.
He wondered if she was tired.
He wondered if she smiled that soft smile when the camera wasn’t looking.
And maybe, if he admitted it, he wondered if she had looked for him too.
His phone buzzed once—a post from the studio she shot with. He didn’t click it.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
“Just one more month,” he whispered, almost to the wind. “One more month before I can tell her.”
Because somehow, in between the shy glances and late-night thoughts, he knew.
And he didn’t want it to be a secret forever.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
Everyone was gathered — the artists, the producers, even the vocal directors. It was time to present the demo songs they'd spent the last week crafting. Four groups. Four tracks.
Jane sat beside Jeno, her hands lightly clasped on her lap, a little smile on her lips. Their track was called “Flicker Between Lines”, and it held tiny secrets in the lyrics — thoughts Jane never said out loud, melodies Jeno helped pull from her chest like whispers made into sound.
“Up next,” the producer announced, “Jane and Jeno.”
The room quieted.
The first few chords played, soft, clean, honest. Then her voice came in — clear and warm. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real.
Heads began to nod. Even D.O. tapped his pen against his notebook. Seulgi mouthed something to Irene, and Irene smiled in agreement.
When the last note played, a silence followed — but the kind that didn’t feel heavy. It felt like something had landed.
Then someone clapped. It was Chanyeol. “That’s a banger in disguise. There’s sincerity in it.”
Others nodded. The vocal coach simply said, “That… didn’t feel like a trainee’s work. That felt like an artist’s story.”
Jane couldn’t even react. She looked over at Jeno, who just gave her a small smile like, Told you so.
Meanwhile, Jaehyun stayed quiet in the back of the room.
He watched Jane bow politely, then laugh a little when Jeno ruffled her hair in celebration. Something tightened in his chest. It wasn’t jealousy. It was regret — that he didn’t know how to make her laugh like that, not yet.
That night, the sky was indigo. The energy from the feedback was still buzzing when Jaehyun finally approached her by the hallway.
“Hey,” he said, casually.
Jane turned to him, her makeup still on from earlier, hair slightly tousled from the long day. “Hey.”
“You free tonight?” he asked. “I was thinking… Han River Park. There’s this food truck spot. We can—”
Before she could respond, her manager’s voice called from behind. “Jane! There you are. Let’s go, you’ve got the magazine shoot in Gangnam. They’re waiting.”
Jane turned, caught off guard. “Wait, I thought—”
“They moved it up. You’ll be back late.”
Jaehyun just nodded before she even looked back at him. “Go ahead. It’s okay.”
She hesitated, searching his face. “Rain check?”
He gave a soft smile. “Yeah. Definitely.”
She left.
Jaehyun stayed there, hands in his pockets, the hallway feeling a little colder than before.
Behind him, Jaemin strolled up, sipping on a canned coffee. “You really waited all day to ask her, huh?”
Jaehyun gave him a look. “Didn’t exactly go as planned.”
Jaemin leaned against the wall, watching the elevator doors close. “You know, I once liked someone who made me feel like the world stopped spinning when they entered the room.”
Jaehyun blinked. “That sounds dramatic, even for you.”
Jaemin chuckled. “Maybe. But I learned something.”
“What?”
“If the world stops for you every time they walk in, don’t wait for them to notice. Walk beside them. Make your presence feel like the breeze they can’t ignore.”
Jaehyun went silent.
“Timing sucks, hyung,” Jaemin added, “but the story doesn’t have to end with bad timing.”
A few minutes later, Jeno found him too, hair messy from rehearsal, slinging a backpack over one shoulder.
“I saw you earlier,” Jeno said quietly. “Before she left.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun replied.
Jeno hesitated before speaking. “She’s got this spark when she’s in her zone. People are gonna be drawn to her. It’s not about who gets there first. It’s about who stays even when they’re busy chasing their dreams.”
Jaehyun let out a breath. “You’re both so poetic tonight.”
Jeno grinned. “Must be the songwriting.”
They all laughed — three different hearts, walking beside the same girl in different ways.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
Jane received a message the night before — a producer from SM’s A&R team had invited her to participate in a new songwriting workshop. She almost didn’t believe it until she walked in and saw the names on the whiteboard.
[Composition Collaboration]
• Jane – Jeno
• Jaehyun – Jaemin
• D.O. – Seulgi
• Irene – Chanyeol
It was… stacked.
Jane blinked in disbelief just as Jeno walked in, offering her a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes.
“Hey, you’re Jane, right? I’ve heard about you,” he said casually.
He had this soft confidence — polite, easy-going, and disarmingly warm. There was something grounded in his presence, like he knew who he was, and didn’t need to prove it.
“Yeah,” Jane replied, returning the smile. “And you’re Jeno.”
“Let’s make something good,” he said, and that was that.
From the moment they sat down in the practice room, the connection was instant — not romantic, just creative. Jeno listened carefully, nodded thoughtfully, and when Jane softly hummed a melody, he layered chords over it like he already understood what her mind was trying to say.
“Wait, go back — that last part,” Jeno said, tapping the keys. “What if we make that harmony rise instead of fall?”
Jane blinked. “That’s actually better.”
They high-fived without thinking.
Meanwhile, in another room, Jaehyun was with Jaemin — who was humming into his mic like it was a karaoke bar.
“Jaehyun-hyung,” Jaemin said between takes, “You’re so serious today. You trying to win a Grammy or something?”
“I’m not serious,” Jaehyun replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Right,” Jaemin said knowingly, spinning in his chair. “Let me guess — it’s because someone’s vibing too well with Lee Jeno?”
Jaehyun paused. “…It’s not like that.”
Jaemin leaned in, grinning like the little brother who knew exactly what was going on. “You sure? Because Jane looked like she just found her creative soulmate.”
“Don’t start,” Jaehyun muttered, turning back to the screen.
Jaemin only laughed. He had this playful, sharp energy — bold but affectionate. The kind of guy who would roast you to your face but would never let anyone else do it behind your back.
Back in Jane and Jeno’s room, the atmosphere had shifted. They were laughing over a misheard lyric, sitting cross-legged on the floor with papers and chords sprawled everywhere.
“This is really fun,” Jane said.
Jeno leaned back against the wall, his smile softening. “It’s nice when it’s not just about pressure, right? Just… music.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I needed this.”
Meanwhile, Jaehyun sat staring at his half-written line, trying to pull himself together.
He wasn’t jealous. That wasn’t the right word.
But he couldn’t remember a time when Jane laughed like that with him.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark… and this time, Yuta had tagged along too. The group was filming something near the same district her company’s choreo studio was located, and one thing led to another — coffee, chatter, a casual dinner invite.
She found herself sitting at a long table, wedged between Haechan and a girl named Lina — a bubbly SM stylist who knew everyone and wasn't afraid to show it.
“Wait, Jane, you trained under Minji-nim? No way!” Lina said, eyes wide. “She’s a legend.”
“I didn’t train for long,” Jane admitted shyly. “But yeah… she was tough.”
Haechan leaned back dramatically. “No wonder you walk like you own the world. You trained with Minji.”
Everyone laughed, and Jane rolled her eyes.
“Can you not flirt with everything that breathes?” Mark teased.
“It’s not flirting,” Haechan replied, sipping his soda. “It’s admiration. Pure, artistic admiration.”
Then he looked at Jane, completely serious. “You’re really like… naturally elegant. Like a ballerina who moonlights as an assassin.”
That broke the table again. Even Jane couldn’t hold in her giggles.
Across from her, Jaehyun was watching.
He hadn’t said much. Just smiled when she did. Listened when she spoke. But when Haechan leaned in again — whispering something about her being too pretty to just be human — Jaehyun’s brow twitched.
“Hyung,” he said casually, “stop acting like a Gen Z vampire.”
Haechan grinned. “Jealous?”
Jaehyun didn’t respond.
He just reached for the pitcher and refilled Jane’s glass.
“Oh?” Lina nudged Jane with a look. “You guys seem close.”
Jane blinked. “Not really… We just—”
“She’s my friend,” Jaehyun said smoothly, not missing a beat. “She’s friends with Johnny.”
“And I’m friends with everyone,” Johnny added, lifting his chopsticks dramatically. “I’m the glue. I’m the bridge. I’m the—”
“—Most chaotic human alive,” Mark cut in.
The dinner went on, lively and warm. Jane found herself smiling more than she expected. These guys — with their loud laughter, subtle teasing, and tight friendship — made her feel like she belonged, even just for a night.
But somewhere in the background of it all, she felt it.
Jaehyun’s quiet glances.
The way his laughter would soften when she laughed too.
The unspoken something that sat between them.
Later, as the night ended and goodbyes were exchanged, Haechan dramatically threw his arms around Jane.
“Until next time, beautiful dancer!” he declared, before hopping into the van.
Jaehyun stayed behind for a moment longer.
“You okay getting home?” he asked, voice low.
Jane nodded. “I’m good.”
They shared a glance. Nothing more.
But it lingered.
Longer than it should have.
⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by the K-pop industry and real artists, all events, characters, and relationships portrayed are imaginary and do not reflect real-life situations. I do not own or claim to represent any real individuals or companies. These stories are written with deep respect and love for the artists. No harm or offense is intended.
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