( 9 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 )
"Rin."
The bright maknae's voice was full of energy, yet Aerin's blank expression met it with an impenetrable wall. The confusion in the younger girl's eyes was palpable, though she kept her composure.
Others in the room had noticed the odd tension, and only the choreographer dared to break the silence.
"Hey, Aerin!" he barked, snapping her from her haze.
Aerin quickly straightened, forcing herself into position. "I'm sorry," she murmured, keeping her eyes downcast as a sign of respect. "I've just been distracted. I'll work harder."
Her words felt rehearsed, hollow, but they served their purpose. Growing up in a different culture, she had always struggled with the rigid hierarchy that governed her new world. Here, a misstep or moment of defiance could ruin everything.
The choreographer sighed, his tone sharp. "Just stop slacking off. You're not showing leader material, and you know it."
Aerin swallowed her pride, keeping her gaze on the floor. "Yes, sir. I'll do better."
. . .
The cold night air wrapped around Aerin as she trudged through the quiet streets. It was almost midnight, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her. The alleyway she passed through was eerily still, save for the faint buzz of a streetlamp overhead.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the cheerful tune of Pick Me cutting through the silence. She fished it out, glancing at the screen: I hate you <3.
A small smile tugged at her lips. Only Jihoon would have the audacity to label himself that way.
"Jihoon?" she answered, her voice flat. "You never call. What do you want?"
"Well, hello to you too," his familiar voice teased. "Care to be a little nicer to your favorite cousin?"
"My bad," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
He chuckled, the sound tired yet amused. "I'm swamped. No inspiration. None. And you just so happened to be the first person I thought of to bail me out."
Aerin rolled her eyes. "So you want me to save you—again? I don't know how I keep getting roped into your messes."
"You're a trainee at the same company. How do you still not know the glory of SEVENTEEN?" Jihoon shot back, feigning offense.
She smirked. "I'll be there in fifteen. The sooner I help you, the sooner I can leave."
As Aerin entered the Pledis building, the familiar hum of fluorescent lights filled her ears. She moved briskly, hoping to avoid unnecessary interactions.
But fate, as always, had other plans.
She collided with someone in the narrow hallway, stumbling slightly before catching her balance.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the stranger said, his voice warm and surprisingly gentle.
Aerin looked up, ready to offer a polite dismissal, but the sight of him stopped her. He wore sweatpants and an oversized button-down, yet somehow, he exuded effortless charm.
"I'm fine," she replied, brushing herself off. "What about you?"
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm good. What's your name?"
Her brows furrowed. Who was this guy? And why was he so intent on prolonging their conversation?
"Aerin Kang," she said cautiously, bowing out of habit.
"Are you a trainee?" he asked, his tone light but curious.
"Yeah, and you?"
His smirk widened. "You could say that."
The elevator doors dinged open, and Aerin seized the opportunity. "Nice meeting you," she said quickly, darting inside.
The man lingered, watching her retreat. A soft chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.
When Aerin finally reached Jihoon's studio, the door creaked open to reveal her cousin in an unsurprisingly disheveled state—dark circles, messy hair, and his usual sweatpants.
"You look terrible," she said, stepping inside.
"And you're late," he shot back, though his tone was more teasing than annoyed.
Settling into the cramped studio, they worked late into the night, bouncing ideas off each other. Aerin's sharp critiques and Jihoon's meticulous attention to detail made for a productive session.
By the time the clock read 2:00 a.m., Aerin leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. "This better be worth it."
"It always is," Jihoon replied with a rare smile.
Little did she know, their midnight collaboration would set off a chain of events she could have never anticipated—both in music and in matters of the heart.
