Nabi hadn't lasted this long in such a ruthless industry by being clueless; she knew exactly who Jeonghan was. That face alone—chiseled perfection, as if the gods had hand-sculpted it—was a dead giveaway. And the way he moved, like the entire room was merely a stage built for him, screamed confidence that didn't come from being "just anyone." If he wasn't from Seventeen, he was someone big enough for the world to notice.
She let out a dry chuckle, her lips curling into a bitter smile. "I think I burned my shot back there. No second chances for me."
Despite his celebrity status—or perhaps because of the dichotomy of it—Jeonghan was surprisingly easy to talk to. For someone used to keeping her guard up, she found herself relaxing. She needed comfort, and with her best friends conveniently absent, she was willing to take what she could get. Even if it was from him.
Jeonghan tilted his head, his soft, slightly teasing tone cutting through her self-pity. "Come on. You two obviously like each other. I don't think you're out of the game yet."
He glanced at his watch—half an hour had slipped by since he'd sat with Nabi. A half hour that, knowing his members, would result in a search party. He was one of the hosts, after all, and this party—so meticulously extravagant—needed his charismatic lead to survive.
Nabi exhaled, shifting her gaze toward the flower beds in front of them, as though the blossoms held answers she couldn't find within herself. "He asked me to delete his number." She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "I don't think there's any coming back from that."
She shrugged as if to shake off the weight of it. "I guess I just need to learn to be okay with it. Honestly, he'd be better off with someone on his level anyway."
Jeonghan studied her, weighing the sincerity of her words. She wasn't wrong, but denial wouldn't get them anywhere, and he didn't want to feed her pessimism with more false hope.
"Well," he said gently, offering a faint smile, "I hope you find that contentment."
He stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his suit. The shift felt like an ending, an unspoken cue that this moment was reaching its natural close. Nabi followed, her own movements reluctant. As much as she might've wanted to keep talking, she knew better. Jeonghan wasn't the kind of guy who lingered. He was the kind of guy who left before you realized how much you'd miss him.
"Thanks for listening, Jeonghan," she said, her smile genuine this time.
"Anytime."
The two walked slowly toward the garden's exit, their steps heavy with the bittersweet knowledge that this fleeting connection would end the moment they returned to reality. Jeonghan walked a few paces ahead, his presence magnetic, commanding attention without even trying. She rolled her eyes to herself. If he wasn't famous, then the entertainment industry was severely lacking in talent scouts.
But then, just as they reached the threshold of the ballroom, Jeonghan stopped abruptly and turned around. The move was almost too sudden, as if he'd acted before his brain could catch up.
"Can I get your number?" he asked, his voice casual but his gaze strangely intense. "In case you ever want to talk again."
Nabi blinked, thrown by the request. Her immediate instinct was to say no—what sense did it make? She'd just spent the past half-hour explaining why she couldn't be involved with someone like Hansol. And now here was Jeonghan, asking for her number as if he weren't the epitome of everything she'd just sworn off.
"I—uh, sure?" she stammered, pulling out her phone. Her movements were automatic, though her mind raced. "But, aren't you, like, famous or something?"
Jeonghan nearly choked on his laughter, though he quickly composed himself. "How'd you figure that out?"
"Please," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips as she handed over her phone. "You've got 'celebrity' written all over you. No normal person moves like that."
He grinned as he typed his number into her phone, handing it back with a wink that somehow managed to be both teasing and sincere. "Guess I'll have to work on being less obvious."
"Or," she countered, raising an eyebrow, "you could just try honesty for once. Though I'm guessing that's not really your style."
His soft laugh was cut short by the buzz of his phone in his pocket. A glance at the screen had him straightening up. "Sorry, I've gotta run. I'll text you?"
Nabi hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I guess so."
Inside the venue, Jeonghan barely made it five steps before he ran into Seungcheol, who wasted no time dragging him into the men's restroom.
"Who the hell was that?" Seungcheol's voice was low, but there was an edge to it.
Jeonghan played dumb, leaning against the sink with a practiced air of innocence. "What do you mean?"
"The girl you were talking to. The one everyone is gossiping about. That girl, Han."
Feigning casualness, Jeonghan adjusted his hair in the mirror. "Oh, you mean Nabi?"
Seungcheol's eyes narrowed. "You mean Hansol's date."
Jeonghan winced. "How do you even know that?"
The leader crossed his arms, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. "You forget—I control the surveillance here."
Jeonghan groaned. "Okay, look, I was just trying to help. They had a fight, and I wanted to see what was going on."
Seungcheol studied him for a moment, then sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I Figured. Saw the kid almost crying earlier and thought something was up."
A sly smirk grew upon the vocalist's face. "And you're sure you don't wanna know why?" The attitudes of both men had suddenly become opposite of each other's.
Seungcheol brought his fingers to his nose bridge in annoyance. "I'm not going to gossip with you Han."
Jeonghan chuckled. "It's not gossip if it's true, right?"
