Jeonghan leaned against the studio mirror, the rhythmic stomping of his members filling the space as they rehearsed their newest concert arrangement. Every movement was meticulously in sync, right down to the sound of their synchronized breaths. It was mesmerizing, but Jeonghan found himself exhaling sharply, detaching from the scene.
Grabbing his duffel bag from the corner of the room, he slung it over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. He'd never understood the appeal of over-practicing beyond their allotted schedule. Sure, improvement was important, but Jeonghan had long ago perfected the choreography to "Clap" when it first dropped. Why chase what didn't need fixing?
He glanced over to see Hansol sitting silently in another corner. Unlike Jeonghan, whose ambivalence toward extra practice was a long-standing habit, Hansol's current gloom seemed...new. They didn't speak, but Jeonghan noticed anyway. He always did.
"Yo, Han! Where are you off to?" Chan's voice pierced through the music, catching everyone's attention.
Twelve pairs of eyes turned toward him—some casual, some scrutinizing. Jeonghan plastered on his usual smile, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Lunch," he replied nonchalantly.
"With who?" Chan pressed, moving closer, his towel draped around his neck.
Jeonghan flicked the younger boy's forehead, earning an indignant yelp. "Just a friend. No big deal. I'll be back." His light tone was convincing enough to send Chan back to his spot, but Seungcheol remained unconvinced, his brows furrowing as he watched Jeonghan leave.
"He's hiding something," Seungcheol muttered to Jisoo, who was distractedly scrolling through his phone.
"Probably," Jisoo said, not even looking up. "But are you really going to try and figure it out?"
Seungcheol sighed, crossing his arms. "One of these days, he's going to get himself into something, and we're going to have to deal with it."
Nabi sat in the tiny café, her leg bouncing in a rhythm that betrayed her nerves. The warm, inviting space was designed to put patrons at ease, but she couldn't shake the anxious buzz coursing through her. Over the past year, she'd worked hard to compartmentalize her personal life and her professional one. Seeing Jeonghan—her client—felt like a direct challenge to that separation.
Yet, here she was, staring at the empty chair across from her, waiting for him to show up. Regret gnawed at the edges of her resolve.
The door chimed.
"Nabi!" Jeonghan's voice rang out, drawing her gaze.
He stood framed by the doorway, the autumn light making him look effortlessly like the idol he was. Despite his casual tennis shoes and oversized duffel bag hinting at a prior practice, his tailored coat and easy confidence radiated an unintentional magnetism.
As their eyes met, he smiled—a boyish grin that instantly lightened the room. Nabi waved him over, silently relieved that the other patrons didn't seem to recognize him or care.
"You look great," he said, his voice softer now as he took the seat across from her.
She returned the smile. "Thanks. You, too." Her words were polite, but she couldn't deny that he actually looked really good.
Jeonghan leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. "Sorry I'm late. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm doing...okay," Nabi replied with a light laugh, though the effort felt like trying to polish a dull memory. Life since Hansol had felt gray, like someone had muted the colors in her world. "What about you?"
"Same old. Tour season's creeping up again," he said, adjusting his cap.
"Ah, Mr. Idol," she teased, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
Jeonghan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I deserve that. Still, thanks for meeting me today. I wasn't sure if you'd come."
Nabi tilted her head, her expression softening. "Well, I figured I owed it to myself to stop judging people by what they do for a living." Her smile grew as Jeonghan laughed.
"I like that. Makes for a good redemption arc," he said.
For a moment, Nabi let herself sink into the warmth of the conversation. Despite the rocky start to their acquaintance, there was something undeniably easy about talking to him.
"So," she said, straightening up, "about this concept meeting—"
"Oh, that," Jeonghan interrupted with a grin, "was just my excuse to see you. Honestly, I just wanted to catch up. Convenience store reunions don't exactly scream meaningful conversation."
Nabi rolled her eyes, though she couldn't fight the small laugh that escaped her. "Figures. Most idols don't care about photoshoots anyway."
"Exactly." Jeonghan's tone softened. "I just wanted to check in. You've been through a lot. And...I know the past year hasn't been easy."
Her smile faltered. The memory of Hansol's exit from her life flickered, and her heart ached at the familiarity of it all.
"I'm fine," she said, though her voice wavered.
Jeonghan studied her quietly before speaking. "Look, I get it. The whole 'idol' thing scared you off before, but it doesn't have to be like that. We have ways to stay low-key. And, I mean, it's nice to have friends who get it—or even those who don't."
His sincerity caught her off guard.
"Friends?" she asked, her tone skeptical.
Jeonghan grinned. "Yeah, friends. No pressure, no strings, just...hanging out. You could use one or two more, you know."
Nabi opened her mouth to argue but hesitated. He wasn't wrong.
"Okay," she relented with a sigh.
"Great!" Jeonghan's enthusiasm was infectious, his smile widening.
"But don't think this means I'm going out for hotpot with you and your friends or something ridiculous like that."
He froze mid-celebration, giving her a sheepish look. "Uh, about that...Friday night?"
She groaned, déjà vu hitting her like a freight train.
"You really know how to ruin a moment," she muttered.
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Just think about it."
She watched him leave moments later, the regret clawing at her chest returning—but this time, it felt tinged with hope.
Maybe, just maybe, some second chances were worth the risk.
