It was 3 a.m. on a Wednesday, and I was still hunched over my desk, staring at numbers that refused to make sense. My math exam loomed like a storm cloud I'd forgotten was even on the forecast.
This wasn't new, me, awake at ungodly hours. Sleep never seemed to come easy. But tonight the exhaustion pressed heavier, my eyes burning, my brain sluggish. I stretched, arms overhead, and stared at the ceiling.
Maybe I should try to sleep.
I was about to save my notes when the phone lit up against the desk.
San: Hi, it's San. Choi San.
Wooyoung: Hi
San: Sorry, I know it's late. Didn't think you'd answer.
Wooyoung: I wasn't expecting you to message me.
San: Why not?
Wooyoung: ...I don't know.
San: So what are you doing?
Wooyoung: Watching Ateez videos!
San: Really?
Wooyoung: No 😂 I'm studying for an exam tomorrow.
San: Oh.
Wooyoung: Sorry to disappoint you.
San: That actually hurt. What subject?
Wooyoung: Math. Hate it.
San: Same. Not my favorite either.
Wooyoung: So what are you doing?
San: Nothing. Couldn't sleep.
Wooyoung: So you messaged me instead?
San: Yeah. You just crossed my mind.
Wooyoung: Don't you have more important things to think about?
San: True. But right now it's just you.
Wooyoung's stomach flipped. He stared at the screen too long before answering.
Wooyoung: ...Oh.
San: Do you have Instagram?
Wooyoung: Yeah. @Woo99
San: Checking it out now.
Wooyoung: Why??
San: Don't know. Just want to.
Notification: @m0unta1n is following you
Wooyoung: Wait. That's you?
San: My unofficial one. Just photos, nature stuff. No one knows it's me.
San: I wanna meet you again.
Wooyoung: ...I'd like that.
San: Really?
Wooyoung: Yeah, but you're the Choi San. I don't know how that would work.
San: Did you seriously just put "the" in front of my name? 😂 We'll figure it out.
San: But for now, maybe sleep? Talk tomorrow?
Wooyoung: Okay.
San: Good luck on your test. Fighting! ✊
Wooyoung: Thank you. Good night.
I set my phone down and let my forehead drop against the desk.
What just happened?
My alarm went off way too soon, Ateez's "Wake Up" blaring from my phone speaker. Irony, much?
I groaned, throwing my pillow over my head. My whole body begged for more sleep.
But eventually, after a shower and two cups of coffee, I was human again.
I checked my phone.
One new message.
San: Good luck with your test!
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
I finished my toast and grabbed my bag, stepping outside to meet Minji, Jun, and Minho.
"You look like crap," Minji announced cheerfully.
"Thanks," I muttered, glaring at her.
"Did you study all night?" Minho asked.
"Yeah. I hate math. Actually, I hate school in general, but math is the worst."
"Well, lucky for you, we've got time for coffee before class." Minji grabbed my arm and tugged me along, practically skipping. How she had this much energy in the morning, I'd never know.
The test went... surprisingly well. Maybe all those late hours had paid off.
I shot San a quick message: Think I nailed it.
He replied with a thumbs-up and, Knew you would. Congrats.
I was still smiling at my phone when Jun leaned over. "Who are you texting? Never seen you grin at your screen like that before."
"No one special," I said quickly, shoving it into my pocket.
He gave me a look, but let it go.
Later that week, Minho brought up a party. "Doyoung's throwing one Saturday. We haven't been out in forever. You guys in?"
"I'm in," I said automatically, earning a high-five.
"Awesome!"
Minji sighed. "What if I don't want to?"
Three pairs of eyes turned on her, and we answered in unison: "Party on Saturday it is."
San and I kept texting, small things, casual things. He asked how school was. I asked about training. He'd send me a photo of the sky from his dorm, or a quick snap of coffee before practice.
And every time my phone buzzed, I felt it, that wild, giddy flutter in my chest.
I really liked this feeling.
And I really, really liked him.
San's POV
Schedules blurred into each other, rehearsals, choreography run-throughs, late-night vocal checks. My body ached, but my head wouldn't quiet.
I should've been memorizing formations, watching myself in the mirror, fixing the sharpness of every move. Instead, I was thinking about a message notification that hadn't even buzzed yet.
About Wooyoung.
It was ridiculous, the way a single line from him could undo me. Think I nailed it. I'd caught myself grinning like an idiot in the practice room, the others side-eyeing me like they knew something I didn't want to admit.
I'd told them it was nothing. Just a fan. Just... someone I happened to meet.
But the truth sat heavier in my chest.
He wasn't just anyone.
Scrolling through his Instagram that night, I'd seen pieces of him he hadn't even shown me yet, his mom, his friends, those goofy group selfies, his laugh caught in a frame. He felt real in a way so few things did anymore. Not cameras. Not contracts. Not the endless cycle of stages.
Him.
And when he texted back, when he teased me or laughed with me through the screen, it felt like I could breathe easier.
I locked my phone, shoved it deep in my pocket before the choreographer could notice my distraction. But even as I moved through the steps, my mind wandered.
And I couldn't stop hoping, stupidly, selfishly hoping, that somehow, between the noise and the chaos of this life, I'd get to see him again.
Not as San, the performer.
Just as me.
YOU ARE READING
Why me? >Woosan<
Fanfiction"I could see him standing by the water. The fountain and its lights made me pull up my phone to take a picture before walking up to him. I stood beside him not saying anything" A Woosan story about an idol and a boy who just happened to walk in to h...
