Jun hasn’t slept more than 4 hours per night in the last week while preparing for the MAMAs, so when he takes to the plane he crashes, hard, and doesn’t wake up until they’re close to landing. His group is filming a behind the scenes video for Mnet, so the makeup staff get to work with touchups on everyone once they arrive at their room at the airport, and then they’re off to explore the streets of Hong Kong.

Filming behind the scenes footage is fun because it means that they’re guaranteed time to play around, eating dinner and exploring before they have to rehearse yet again. Jun grew up near Hong Kong and feels in his element, leading s confidently and communicating with people in both Canto and Mando as the groups representative. He overhears Woozi say to a camera that he feels safe because of the Chinese members, and Jun is pleased that he could make it up to everyone for all of the times they’ve helped him when he felt lost.

Most of their waking hours in Hong Kong are spent in rehearsals. They have three performances to prepare for—one for the red carpet, one for a special stage of Mansae, and their collaboration stage—but they do have pockets of free time here and there. His parents come to the city the night before they perform, and he hasn’t seen his family in nearly a year so the time they spend together is precious. He gets to have dinner with them and his mom busies herself with nagging him and asking about his schedules for the next couple of days. He thought he would be annoyed but instead he’s glad she cares so much. He gets to see his little siblings and takes about a hundred pictures with them. His heart aches to see how much older they’ve grown in his absence.

He knows Twice is coming to the award show but tries to temper any excitement for that. He likely won’t even get to speak to Tzuyu, after all. It’s a huge event and tons of fancams get taken, even just of idols watching one another perform. They wouldn’t even be able to wave to one another in public, since that’s the stuff of scandal these days. He does practice extra hard for his performances, though. He knows she’ll be watching. He tells himself that he cares so much about the performance because he knows thousands, possibly millions of people will be watching, including his old schoolmates and friends from his hometown, and his family will be there.

The day of the event starts early, before dawn even. Seventeen squeezes in their last rehearsals and then attends final sound checks before being made up and coiffed, then dressed for the first time of many that day. It’ll likely be at least 24 hours before they’re able to sleep again.

There is a lot of waiting. Waiting for pictures, waiting for interviews, waiting for mic batteries to be replaced, waiting for their makeup and hair to be touched up. He jokes around and plays with his group members but he feels anxious all day and he can’t quite place his finger on why. There is a hum of excitement in the atmosphere, everything about the day charged with a nervous energy.

He hadn’t heard about it ahead of time, but they are seated next to Twice for the award ceremony. The girls all stand to bow when Seventeen takes their seats, and Jun lets his eyes linger when they make contact with Tzuyu’s. He could swear he saw a tiny smile tug at the corner of but then she is looking away, continuing to bow at the horde of boys passing by. Later during the performances he has to keep himself from looking over to see her reaction. He knows that there are hundreds of eyes on them both and that rumors would end their friendship before it really had a chance to get off the ground.

The votes for the rookie awards are tight this year, down to the wire even since s had last been able to check. Everyone in the group is restless, unwilling to voice their greed for the win but with hopeful hearts nonetheless. They have already done wildly better than their expectations since debut, but with every small triumph came the urgency to succeed further. He wonders about Tzuyu and Twice too, and allows himself to imagine for a moment that they’d both win rookie awards. It would be too good to be true.

And it is. Twice is the one to take home an award, and Seventeen congratulates them as they pass by. Only when they don’t receive the reward does he realize how high his hopes had been, but he reminds himself that they can’t win every time.

Late in the night, after the whole show has come to a close and Jun is back at his hotel, he messages Tzuyu in congratulations.

Weibo group message:

Jun, 3:11am: congrats, Tzu :D You deserve it!

Tzuyu 3:13am: thank you ^_^ I still can’t believe we won :o

He wonders if she feels bad that Seventeen didn’t win but hopes that she doesn’t. He wouldn’t want her success to be marred by feelings of guilt. The entertainment industry is cutthroat and they can’t win every time, and still have so much further to go to prove themselves.

Weibo

Jun 3:20am: The river looks so pretty at night

Tzuyu, 3:21am: Where are you staying?

Jun, 3:21am: Hotel Icon, near Victoria Harbor

Tzuyu 3:22am: no way! Me too!

Jun, 3:22am: :o

Jun, 3:22am: want to go for a midnight stroll?

Tzuyu, 3:23am: it’s past midnight, silly :p

Jun, 3:23am: the offer still stands

Tzuyu, 3:24am: let’s do it~

Wonwoo, Jun’s roommate, comments on his getting dressed to go out and glances up from his book curiously as Jun fixes his hair, but doesn’t ask questions about where he’s is headed.

“Yo Jun, think fast,” Wonwoo speaks up when Jun heads for the door, throwing a pack of gum at him.

“Yeah?” Jun catches it and looks up at Wonwoo, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Don’t do anything too crazy,” Wonwoo cautions, and then breaks into a conspiratorial grin.

“Thanks, mom,” Jun retorts sarcastically, but still pops a stick of gum in his mouth before tossing the pack back. He knows what Wonwoo is thinking, but it isn’t like that.

“How do you like Hong Kong?”

Boats rock quietly in the water surrounding them and distant lights glitter across the water, but otherwise the marina where they meet is placid and dark. They walk along the docks, which dip up and down underfoot following the easy chop of the bay.

“It’s weird. It’s like home, but not.” Tzuyu says, lazily placing one foot in front of the other as they meander slowly away from the shore.

“How do you mean?” Jun asks.

“Like I fell through the looking glass; it’s familiar, but fundamentally distorted. The language is the same and culturally it’s similar, but at the same time so different. I feel like a bright-eyed country bumpkin in the big city for the first time, which is weird because I’m neither,” Tzuyu confesses. The sea breeze flutters her hair and she pulls her coat tighter to guard against the chill.

“I know what you mean. Obviously it’d be more familiar to me since I grew up in Shenzhen, but still I find myself mixing my languages. The reverse culture shock is stronger than I expected,” Jun replies. “It feels different. Not good or bad just… different.”

Tzuyu falls silent beside him. There is the hum of cars in the distance, and the water laps softly against the boats that flank either side of the walkway.

“You know what I mean?” he asks, looking over at her.

“Yeah, I do. Being here has made me realize that there’s truly no going back anymore. Maybe I’m being weird and dramatic in saying that; I don’t know. But I mean that my old life wouldn’t be there for me even if I wanted it to be,” Tzuyu says. She hadn’t been able to articulate the nebulous emotions of nostalgia and uncertainty she’s felt since they landed here until she’s able to say it out loud, but there it is. “It’s scary to let go and just… float.”

He laughs, and it sounds a little bitter. Jun isn’t that type though; maybe she’s misinterpreting it.

“That’s growing up, though, isn’t it?” he replies. For a minute the only sound is the clicking of their shoes against the metal dock, as they both lose themselves in that thought.

“I know that,” Tzuyu says. “God, I’m painfully aware of how dramatic it all sounds. But you know, adults always say that young people are histrionic but I think it’s because they forget what it’s like to experience monumental changes for the first time. Navigating it all can be tricky, and it can feel like an uphill battle. I question everything I do. I don’t know how not to.”

“Questioning things is good. It means you’re not moving mindlessly through life,” Jun reassures her, “though the only bad end would come from inaction. Complacency is where dreams die.”

They reach the end of the dock now and she turns to Jun. “I can mourn the loss of something without wanting it back though, can’t I?” she replies, her lips scrunching to one side in uncertainty.

“Of course,” he says, leaning his elbows on the bars at the end of the walkway, the only thing separating them from the black open water before them.

“There’s no use in worrying if it’s for the better then, I guess. It’s the way it has to be,” she says morosely, staring off to the side.

“Hey now, there’s no need to be so glum about it.” He puts a hand on her shoulder, bending over to place his face into her line of vision so that she’ll look at him, lending poignancy to his next words. “The end of parts of your life makes way for better things, opportunities, and people to come into it.”

“People always say that, but how can you know?”

Instead of begrudgingly avoiding his gaze she now looks him fixedly in the eyes, almost as if she’s demanding an answer. As if he could give it to her with any modicum of certainty.

“You can’t. But you have to believe it for your own sanity,” he replies, eyes darting to the water. The dark swirling expanse before him must be more comforting to look at than her searching expression. “Even if you spend your life worrying that ruin might come from everything you do, the worrying won’t stop it happening. It’ll sure as hell spoil things even if it all turns out to be fine, though. You keep the faith because it’s the way you survive.”

“Better things, better people,” she repeats faintly, calling back to his previous statement.

“Like me,” Jun remarks, posing cutely at her to break the heavy atmosphere. Tzuyu rolls her eyes, turning away from him to make her way back down the walkway.

“Hey!” Jun whines at her lack of response, jogging to catch up to her and tugging on her arm.

“Like you,” Tzuyu concedes easily, playfully shoving him away by the shoulder. He teeters close to the edge of the walkway towards the water then catches himself, swerving back towards her as he keeps pace.

“But not like you,” he says in faux-annoyance. Tzuyu pulls him in, looping her arm through his.

“C’mon Jun, you don’t mean that,” she challenges.

“Psh,” he tutts, trying halfheartedly to shake her off. She just holds tighter.

December hits with full force, which for Jun means endless hours of practice to prepare for their concert and special stages.

One night his team is up late, preparing for their special stage at The Show. The opportunity to be back on broadcast is an exciting prospect, but they’re all perfectionists so practice goes until deep into the night considering how early they need to wake up.

“Ok, let’s take a drink and then we’ll record,” Hoshi says after a good run through. Jun takes a seat on the floor next to Minghao, who is some kind of mutant because he’s barely sweating. Jun’s shirt, on the other hand, was sacrificed to the dance gods hours ago.

“Five more hours,” Minghao notes mournfully as he takes a drink of water. It’s midnight, and he’s referring to the time that they need to wake up for their schedules tomorrow.

“But then we’ll get go see everyone,” Jun says cheerfully, shaking Minghao by the shoulder, who sulks.

“You mean we’ll get to see Tzuyu,” Minghao quips back, switching to Mandarin.

“Aish, that’s not what I mean. We’ll get to see all of the staff, and the fans, and our friends who we haven’t seen in a while.” Jun waves his concerns off.

“….so you mean Tzuyu?” Minghao raises his eyebrows at Jun. Jun pushes him.

“Don’t be like that. We’re just friends.” Jun retorts.

“Didn’t know you met up secretly with your ‘just friends’?” Minghao replies. That startles Jun, and he’s not surprised that Minghao found out, but he does wonder which time he knows about and for how long he’s been sitting on that information. Minghao doesn’t seem to have told anyone else at least, and Jun counts himself lucky for having a friend who can keep a secret.

“You were asleep! Besides, she’s 3 years younger than me. I’d feel like a creepy old man if I thought that way,” Jun brushes off Minghao’s suggestion. And he does feel like a creepy ahjussi whenever his mind starts to wander that direction. But he forces himself not to think like that, because they’re both in their debut year and have a lot of work to do to establish themselves, along with the fact that they barely get to see one another. That, and the fact that she’s 17, for god’s sake.

“Whatever you say, Jun.” Minghao stands to join the others in the center, where they are going through moves one last time before the recording. “But still, 3 years is not that much.” Minghao says, before turning away to join the others.

Jun caps his water and joins them too, annoyed that he couldn’t think of a retort to Minghao, but he can’t stew over it for long because they have to get to recording their dance which requires his full focus.

He strikes up a conversation with Wonwoo on the way back home, avoiding Minghao for the moment. Jun loves that kid but he may drive him crazy one day with those suggestions of his.

Jun had messaged Tzuyu the night prior to let her know that Seventeen would be performing a special stage on The Show the next day. Nearly a week has passed since they last saw one another in Hong Kong.

Tzuyu’s in the waiting room after their sound check but before their pre-recording, and her ears prick any time she hears Chinese-accented Korean.

“Tzuyu, you seem a bit jittery today,” Chaeyoung notices, handing her a bite of her kimbap. Tzuyu accepts it gratefully.

“Really?” Tzuyu says, munching on the kimbap, taking her time to swallow it down. She sits down on the couch, and tries to focus on engaging with her members. They get occupied with a round of the frying pan game, and just after Dahyun loses she hears the voices she had been waiting for.

She jumps up, heading to the door and hangs on the doorframe, waving to Jun and Minghao as they approach. There’s a third person with them who is dressed similarly to them, and she assumes must be one of their group members.

“Oppas!” she calls out, grinning at them. She runs up to them and bows at their accompanying member.

“Hello, I am Tzuyu of Twice,” she smiles. His eyes are small but kind, and his white hair fluffs out over a headband.

“Hi, I’m performance team leader Hoshi of Seventeen,” he bows to her, greeting her nervously.

Even though he’s her senior, she can tell he’s uncomfortable in her presence. Possessing a cold, chic look unfortunately has this effect on people more than Tzuyu would like. That coupled with her shyness in speaking Korean meant that she seemed standoffish to others, and so making friends has been hard, even with her group members at first.

“Nice to meet you, sunbae-nim,” she bows once more, then addresses Jun and Minghao again.

“Oppas, come meet my group members!” she says, tugging them by the wrists into her waiting room. Hoshi trails slightly behind them, a little unsure of if he is supposed to follow.

All of her group members stand and bow when the boys enter, tittering at Tzuyu’s holding them by the wrists.

“1, 2, 3, we are Twice!” The girls chime.

“Seventeen Hoshi,”

“Jun,”

“Minghao,” they all greet, bowing.

“Unnies, these are my Chinese friends and one of their group members,” Tzuyu turns to her members, smiling. Everyone breaks apart into a flurry of greetings, many bows and awkward, polite hellos exchanged.

“You guys are performing today? It’s good to see you!” Tzuyu says in Korean, approaching Jun and Minghao once they’ve greeted everyone. The coordis and makeup artist wrangle back many of the girls’ attention, but she notices Momo and Mina interacting with Hoshi. Momo and Mina do the signature pony and arm roll from ‘Mansae’ and Hoshi laughs and responds with choreography from ‘Like Ooh-Ahh’. It’s encouraging to see them getting along with one another.

“We’re performing at the Gayo Daejun this year. Will you be coming?” Minghao asks.

“We’re performing too,” Tzuyu bites at her nail. “Our first award show stage! It’s exciting but a little nerve-wracking.”

“You all do well onstage, so I’m sure it will be great,” Jun says. His hands are clasped behind his back and his eyes keep glancing around the room, surveying her group members. Tzuyu realizes in this moment just how many people are probably observing their interaction.

“We’re all busy, but we should meet up some day. I miss seeing someone other than the members and our staff,” she says in Mandarin now, which is easier anyway. Jun and Minghao laugh.

“We know the feeling,” Minghao says.

“As tight as you can be with your group members, sometimes you need to see someone else,” Jun adds in. Minghao elbows him, scoffing. “But not you, Minghao. I could never get tired of you.” Jun wraps his arms around Minghao’s shoulders, and Minghao rolls his eyes, trying to nudge him off before eventually accepting it.

“Well, we won’t stay too long. It looks like we’re attracting some attention,” he says, and they all shift to look at Jungyeon, Jihyo and Nayeon who are sitting on the couch, all of whom immediately become extremely interested in the magazine Nayeon is holding.

“Hoshi-yah,” Jun calls, just as Hoshi is demonstrating his tissue-pulling choreography to Momo and Mina, who are following along. “Let’s head out.”

Hoshi turns to bow to Momo and Mina, who all clap softly and bow in their sudden awkward politeness.

“Goodbye, nice to meet you,” the three boys say, and the room is again a flurry of bowing as they exit.

“Omo, Tzuyu, I didn’t know that you knew boys,” Jungyeon says when they’ve walked out of earshot.

“It’s not like that,” Tzuyu says dismissively, taking a seat on the couch with her unnies. “They’re just Chinese-speaking friends. It’s good to have some that I can see in person.”

The rest of the girls nod and make noises of understanding when she says so. She knows it may seem suspicious because close friendships between boys and girls are not the norm, but she’s glad to have people she can talk to who totally get it. From the isolating experience of being a foreigner to the demands of being an idol, her friends understand what she is going through better than most.

“Girls!” Hoshi whispers when they’re out of earshot. “You know girls!? Girls who are that pretty?? Wah, I’m going crazy. You two are really something else.”