Idol-ized Lovers || Choi Soobin [Rewritten]

04

It was an extravagant hotel—tall, shining buildings wrapped in rich colors and soft golden lights. It felt like a dream. You had never even seen a place like this in real life, let alone walked into one. And now here you were... for a date. With a K-pop idol. What alternate universe did you fall into?

"Good evening, ma'am! May I have your pass, please?" a staff member greeted you, her uniform pressed to perfection and her appearance intimidatingly elegant. You swallowed your nerves. "Good evening," you said, offering the pass with a polite smile. She scanned it quickly, nodded, and then stepped aside. "Right this way, ma'am."

You followed her through the lobby to an elevator that seemed to ascend forever. Your stomach did a little flip with every floor it passed. The date must be on the rooftop. Of course it is. Nothing about this night was going to be normal.

Finally, the elevator doors opened to reveal a softly lit rooftop lounge. Delicate fairy lights floated above, warm and whimsical against the deepening sky. And there, standing near the edge, was Choi Soobin.

The staff member turned to you. "You may go ahead, ma'am." You wanted to ask her to stay—just a little while, just until your legs stopped trembling—but this was your battle to fight.

You stepped forward. And gently, he turned around. He looked directly at you, his height immediately striking, his presence more graceful and stunning in person than any photo could've conveyed. And then, he smiled.

"Good evening, Ms. [Your Name]," he greeted, your name falling from his lips like it belonged there. Your heart stuttered. "Good evening, Mr. Choi Soobin." You greeted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, to ease your nerves. "Nice to meet you," he said warmly, stepping toward you and pulling out your chair. A small gesture, but it made your brows raise slightly. He was being too nice. Ofcourse he was told to be this nice.

"Nice to meet you, too," you replied, easing into the seat as he took his own. "So—congratulations on winning this fan date!" he beamed. You offered a shy smile. "Thank you." A waiter appeared with almost magical timing, setting down a plate of expensive steak and pouring you a glass of wine so delicate it probably cost more than your monthly groceries. Your jaw nearly dropped, but you composed yourself quickly.

"Please eat," Soobin said kindly, noticing your hesitation. "Right," you nodded, cutting into the food carefully, trying not to look like you had no idea what fork to use. "So, what do you do?" he asked casually between bites. "I work in sales," you answered. He nodded. "That sounds like a tough job."

"It's not really," you lied, because God forbid you come across as a tired, pessimistic mess in front of a K-pop idol. Still, he smiled kindly. "Must be tiring though." That look—soft, genuinely caring—nudged something in your chest. You quickly reminded yourself it was part of his job: be charming, polite, warm. It wasn't personal.

"Yes, it is," you said quietly, eating again to avoid overthinking. After a beat, you realized you were being too aloof. You hadn't said much. You were giving the energy of someone accidentally stuck on a date with their tax consultant. So you forced yourself to speak.

"How was your day?" He paused mid-bite, then looked at you. For a second, you wondered if you'd asked something wrong. But then he smiled again. "I've been good, thanks," he replied. You nodded. Then, stretching for anything else to say, you added, "I really like your songs." His smile widened. "Which one's your favorite?" Panic. Why did you open your mouth?!

"Um... Deja Vu." His expression didn't change. "Okay! Thank you." Crisis averted. He probably didn't notice the delay in your answer. Or maybe he did, but he was too polite to call you out. Either way, you were safe—for now. The conversation remained light after that. Polite. Nothing too deep, nothing too awkward. You didn't embarrass yourself. And that, in itself, was a win. Eventually, the date drew to a close.

"Thank you, Ms. [Your Name]. I had a great dinner with you," he said, standing and bowing slightly. "Thank you so much," you replied, matching his bow. He handed you a signed album—Deja Vu, of course—as a parting gift. Before you could even process the surrealness of it all, a staff member returned and began escorting you away.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The car ride home felt like a blur. The same team that had brought you here was now dropping you off—talk about convenience. You were on the back seat, looking down at the album in your lap. No, the date wasn't amazing. There were no sparks, no magical connection, no fairytale ending. But it also wasn't a disaster.

You didn't trip. You didn't offend him. You didn't cry, choke, or accidentally confess your love. In your book? That's a success. And hey, you even had a gift for Ho Yeon. She was going to scream when she saw this. Maybe it wasn't your dream Sunday... but maybe, just maybe, it was worth it.