Being an idol had its perks, but Hansol never expected one of them to be getting paid for being pretty.
In his younger years, he'd barely seen himself as presentable, let alone photogenic enough to have strangers gush over his face in front of a white backdrop. Yet here he was, leaning into the role, the quiet chaos of the photoshoot buzzing around him.
This so-called special power of his hadn't gone unnoticed by Nabi. From the moment she met him, she'd been intrigued. Not by his fame—she had enough of her own to keep her unimpressed—but by the natural awkwardness that leaked through his polished idol persona. She'd chosen Hansol for this shoot based on nothing but vibes and looks, brushing off her team's endless K-pop-stan reassurance that Vernon of SEVENTEEN was a pro.
Thankfully, they'd been right.
"You're killing it!" Nabi's voice rang across the set, startling Hansol. He turned to find her leaning casually against a nearby beam, arms crossed, watching him with a small, amused smile.
Hansol waved, then glanced at the photographer for permission before stepping off the set. He made his way toward her, a boyish grin creeping onto his face. "I didn't know you'd be here."
Nabi raised an eyebrow, her expression half teasing. "I did say I'd see you at the photoshoot, remember?"
"Oh. Right." Hansol scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as heat crept up his ears. Sure, she'd said it, but he hadn't expected her to actually show. Farewells in this industry often meant nothing.
Nabi chuckled softly at his discomfort, her casual confidence only making him more self-conscious. "You seriously look amazing, man."
Hansol lifted his head, her genuine tone catching him off guard. "Dropping the honorifics already?" he teased, trying to mask his shyness.
"Wait," she countered, tilting her head in mock curiosity. "I'm older than you, right?"
They both leaned in slightly, the shift in their stances drawing them into a quiet bubble amidst the bustling set.
"I'm 25," Hansol said, watching as Nabi's eyes widened in realization.
"Oh my God, wait—I'm 23!" Her shock was palpable, though her voice remained oddly calm, like she couldn't quite believe it herself.
Hansol chuckled at her flustered apologies, catching her shoulders as she started bowing in embarrassment. "Hey, it's fine. Seriously, don't worry about it."
But as she regained her composure, they both seemed to notice how close they were standing. The realization hit Nabi first, and for a brief, electric moment, she wasn't sure whether to step back or lean in further. She wasn't one for cheesy romantic clichés, but Hansol was undeniably handsome—no denying that.
The photographer's shout broke the moment. "You guys can come check the photos if you want!"
Hansol glanced at Nabi, who was already walking toward the monitor with an excited glint in her eyes. For someone who often complained about her job, she seemed to genuinely enjoy moments like this, seeing her work come to life.
Hansol, on the other hand, wasn't as eager. Monitoring himself during shoots was always a cringe fest, a highlight reel of trying-too-hard moments that made him want to crawl under a rock.
As he joined Nabi, he noticed her snapping photos of the monitor with her phone, smiling as she reviewed the shots. Before he could stop himself, a teasing smirk appeared on his face. "Saving some for later?"
Her laugh was easy, unbothered, as she patted his shoulder. "Honestly? Yeah. Not gonna lie. You've got a great jawline, dude."
Hansol burst into laughter, the casual boldness of her comment throwing him off guard. Most people in the industry were careful, calculating with their words, but not Nabi. She didn't seem to care who overheard or what they might think, and it was... refreshing.
As she strolled past him, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, hesitating for a moment before calling out, "Wait!"
Nabi turned immediately, her smirk deepening. It was like she'd been expecting him to stop her. "What's up?"
He hesitated, then gestured toward her phone. "You mind sending me those photos? The monitor turned off before I could get any good ones."
Her laughter returned, soft and amused. "You're funny, you know? If you wanted my number, you could've just asked."
Hansol froze for a split second as she flipped her phone over, revealing her contact screen. His confusion quickly replaced any attempt at charm. "Wait... I thought your name was Nabi? It says Natalia here."
"Oh." She shrugged, her tone nonchalant. "Yeah, my birth name's Natalia. I grew up in New York. Nabi's just the Korean name my parents gave me, so I use that now."
Hansol's eyes widened. "Wait—you're from New York?"
The excitement in his voice was undeniable, and Nabi grinned at his reaction. "Yep. Haven't met another New Yorker since moving here, though."
"No way. I swear I collect New Yorkers like Pokémon." His sudden energy made her laugh again, and before he realized it, he was rambling. "I could introduce you to some of my friends. We could all hang out or something."
Her smile softened, genuinely pleased by the idea. "That sounds great."
But the spell of their conversation was broken when she glanced at the clock. Her expression shifted, the unspoken acknowledgment that their moment was over hanging in the air.
Hansol checked his phone for confirmation, then offered her a smile. "Text you later, Natalia."
As she walked away, a small laugh escaped her lips. "See you, Vernon."
