Meeting Stray Kids

9

rewritten, proofread

RUN.

RUN...

FUCKING RUN FASTER.

"LOOK! IT'S STRAY KIDS!"
A high-pitched female voice screamed, slicing through the air.

"No. No," Chan hyung panted, gripping my hand tightly. He signaled the others to pick up the pace.

We darted into an alleyway, gasping for air, but the reprieve didn't last.

"Oh. My. God."
A short-haired girl stood at the end of the alley, her eyes widening.

FUCK.

"THEY'RE HERE! CATCH THEM!"

"No. No, no, no—please," I muttered, my legs burning as we bolted.

"Hey, there's a door there!" Hyunjin shouted, pointing to a plain, unmarked door. "Let's hide in there!"

"Hyunjin, are you fucking stupid? What if someone lives there?!" Chan snapped, his voice strained.

"We don't have a choice!" Hyunjin shot back, panic etched in his face.

"I SAW THEM RUN THIS WAY!" the voice screamed again, louder and closer.

Chan glanced at us, his jaw tightening. Finally, he nodded. "Get in. Now."

I bit back tears as I whispered, "Please."

One by one, we slipped inside.

ONE HOUR BEFORE

I let out a heavy sigh, placing my duffel bag on the shoe rack near the door.

Training had been brutal today—no surprise, since we're debuting next month. Still, the early dismissal (thanks to our trainer's sudden food poisoning) meant I was home by 12 PM.

Stomach growling, I wandered into the kitchen to whip up something "healthy." By healthy, I meant ramen.

But the thought of food faded as soon as I caught a whiff of myself.

Ugh, I stink.

Grabbing a towel, I headed to the bathroom. Stripping off my sweaty dance clothes, I let the hot water soothe my sore muscles.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged, still damp and shivering slightly. I realized I'd forgotten to grab fresh clothes.

Wrapped in a towel, I hurried to my room and threw on my favorite Stray Kids hoodie and some comfy sweats. Feeling slightly more human, I headed for my desk.

Homework. Fucking homework.

Thanks to online school (courtesy of my overprotective parents), I still had assignments to complete on top of training.

Four hours later, I blinked at the clock.

"FORTY MINUTES?!" I exclaimed, horrified.

My stomach protested loudly. With a groan, I dragged myself to the kitchen, blasting music to keep me awake as I started cooking.

But just as I was stirring the pot—

"Just get in. Please."

The door creaked open.

What the... I forgot to lock it?!

I froze as eight tall figures spilled into my apartment, their faces panicked.

Eight very familiar faces.

BACK TO THE PRESENT

"What the fuck," I blurted.

Great first impression, Juyeon. You just swore in front of your idols.

Chan stepped forward, hands raised in apology. "I'm so, so sorry. Could we stay here for a bit? It's... hard to explain, but—"

I gaped at him, words refusing to form.

"D-do you not speak Korean?" he asked, visibly flustered.

"N-no, I do! I—uh—please, sit, you—um—" I stammered, pointing awkwardly at the couch.

BANG.
BANG.
BANG.

"EXCUSE ME! PLEASE OPEN UP!"

The high-pitched voice was right outside.

Han's eyes widened in fear. "It's our fan."

"P-please, just sit!" I whispered, ushering them toward the couch.

They complied, watching me closely as I opened the door a crack.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

"Excuse me," the girl said, her tone suspicious. "Have you seen eight boys run in this direction?"

I feigned shock, putting on my best wide-eyed expression. "Eight boys? No, of course not!"

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh... okay."

I waited until she disappeared down the hallway before shutting the door and turning back to the living room.

Eight pairs of eyes stared at me in amusement.

And that's when I realized.

My hoodie? Stray Kids merch.
My music? A Stray Kids playlist.
The eight men sitting in my living room? Stray Kids.

Hotel? Trivago.

"So," Chan said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "You a fan?"

.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~•.~

Bless you beautiful souls who actually read my book.

How are you?

Hope you enjoyed!

<3