When your friends tell you their plan, you laugh and instantly go along with it.

“Sure, as long as I’m back in time for my final on Monday,” you playfully say.

Hours later, you find yourself in an unmarked white van, a black ski mask on your face. The fabric is itchy and hard to breathe in. Suddenly, you regret your decision, as you think longingly of a cup of coffee and all the lectures you need to review. The stress wears you out and you doze in the sunny warmth of the car.

You’re startled awake when the car door slams shut and suddenly there’s multiple voices yelling out at once. You jerk upright and find yourself staring into the most incredible pair of ice blue eyes. They narrow in confusion back at you.

“Get him!” Your friends shriek, “What are you doing? Get him!”

You feel a cloth being shoved in your hand. Panicking, you reach over and press the chloroform-soaked rag against the man’s mouth and nose. Within seconds, he drops limp. You stare, wide-eyed and shaking, at the unconscious man in the striped suit next to you. When you finally tear your eyes away, you realize that there are four other young men in similar states, passed out along the seats.

Horrified, you look up and meet the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror. “You guys were serious?!”

She pulls off the black mask, revealing her beautiful face and all the girls laugh, “You’ll have fun. Trust me.”

An hour later and you pull up in a deserted patch of jungle, a few miles out of the city.

“Wake them,” Aorn, the driver, whispers to you.

It then dawns on you that you were only dragged along because of your language skills. They know that unlike them, you aren’t a hardcore fan, or rather, the word sasaeng applies better in this insane circumstance, so they have tricked you into coming along just for your fluency in Korean.

You should feel used. You should feel angry. But as you lean down to gently wake the beautiful man in the striped suit, you can’t bring yourself to hold any resentment against your friends. His eyes flicker open and your heart skips a beat at the sharp cobalt.

“Hello, Minho. My name is ___. Please come with us.” Unable to hold his intense gaze a second longer, you dip your head down and turn to wake up the other four in a similar manner. Finished, you turn and walk away from the car, shooting Aorn a piercing glare as you walk past her.

You glance over your shoulder after a few hundred yards, making sure people are still following. You pause in your step as you watch Lulu approach Key. There’s a soft look in her eyes that you’ve never seen before as she a finger and gently wipes a bead of blood off the blue-haired boy’s forehead. Even more surprisingly, he doesn’t flinch and steadily stares back at her. And then you’re aware of a different pair of eyes on you, watching you. You look up to find Minho looking right at you, and even at a distance of a hundred yards, his eyes lock onto yours. You gulp and quickly turn to lead them across a busy highway.

You turn your back, a few minutes later, as the boys change out of their heavy stage gear into jeans and loose graphic tanks. “What do we do now?” You whisper to Aorn, panicking as always.

She grins and walks into the middle of the circle, not bothering to wait for them to finish dressing first. “For today, and today only, forget that you’re idols. Forget everything. We are young, and we are alive!”

There is no need for you to translate that. Her words leave an impact. Aorn grins, looking over her shoulder to shoot the boys a wink before abruptly charging into the middle of the street. She a hip to the side and holds out a hand and the truck screeches to a halt. Laughing, she grabs Jonghyun by the hand and drags him onto the truck bed.

The other Shinee members exchange glances in surprise before they burst into laughter and all pile onto the truck after them, looking light, like a heavy weight has been lifted off their shoulders. You stand there for a while, shocked. Lulu laughingly grabs your hand and heaves you onto the back of the truck.

On the moving truck, you look at the smiling, shining boys carefully. Why are they so cheerful and willing? Is this Stockholm Syndrome? But you watch the way Taemin runs his hands through his hair, his face turned up to enjoy the wind on his skin and the last rays of the sun, and how Onew lets Aorn cling onto his arm for support on the shaky ride, and you’re not so sure anymore.

The mood is contagious. You find yourself swaying to an invisible beat and playfully jump off the truck bed when it stops, grabbing Lulu around the waist with a shriek. You both fall to the ground, tussling and rolling around. Jonghyun watches you with a grin and easily picks Lulu up, pulling her to her feet with surprising strength.

You feel strong arms around you as well, surprised to see the corded tan muscle around your waist. You spin around to find Minho standing there, looking fresh in his sleeveless shirt with his hair tousled by the wind. You swallow your own tongue and quickly bow your head at him before rushing off to help Taemin carry Key on his shoulders.

The day is hot and sticky, uncommonly warm for May, and you can see that it affects the Korean members who aren’t used to such tropical climates. The sweat rolls off them until they’re all glistening and panting. You unconsciously your lips. An idea pops into your mind. You stop in front of a house, where you can see through the iron gate into the backyard, and the shimmering blue of the pool beyond the gate. You whistle loudly with two fingers to catch everyone’s attention.

When they stop and stare at you, you grin, then turn to run at the gate. Although you’re naturally nimble, the gate is higher than you expected and Key has to grab you by your hips to hoist you over. You stumble for a few steps, but catch your footing and quickly unlock the gate. Catching on to your idea at once, everyone comes rushing over, quickly kicking off their shoes and tearing off clothing without a second thought.

“Hurry, hurry!” Someone urges.

You tug your shirt over your head, for once not caring that it leaves you with only a bandeau as coverage, and the moment your shirt hits the ground, someone is grabbing you by the wrist. You scream in excitement when that person drags you into the pool and then cold water hits you like a slap across the face. It’s refreshing and exhilarating. When you finally break the surface for air, it feels like happiness and sunshine are filling your lungs instead of oxygen.

You laugh for no reason and grab Onew by the ankle, forcing the pink-haired leader into the pool after you. After he wipes the chlorinated water out of his eyes, he retaliates by carrying you bridal style in his arms, ominously holding you above the water while you shriek and beg for mercy.

He seems to consider your pleas, but then Taemin and Aorn cannonball messily into the water, soaking you two anyways. You laugh, helping wring the water out of Onew’s baseball cap. Vindictive, the leader chases after the two of them, splashing clumsily and getting himself in the face instead. Jonghyun, who has Lulu riding on his shoulders, points and laughs at this burst of Onew condition.

Onew playfully glares at them and tries to tackle the two of them. But Lulu, from her vantage point, is easily able to splash him in the face. Inspired, Taemin heaves Aorn on his shoulders as well, and the four of them surround the eldest boy, making him prance around like a barking seal.

“Want to go up?” A deep voice behind you asks.

You don’t have to turn around to identify the voice, but you do so anyways. Minho is less than a foot away from you, drenched in water with his honey-blonde hair messily pushed back from his face. He is shirtless and rivulets of water trickle down his washboard abs and collect at the prominent lines between muscles. Your face heats up at once and you shoot your eyes back to his, but it’s too late. A knowing smirk spreads across his face.

“No, I’m ok,” you say, desperately shaking your head, “I—I just—”

“What the hell is going on here?!” A feminine voice shrieks behind them.

You jerk your head and find a portly middle-aged woman standing at the foot of the pool, hands on hips and looking livid.

“Run!” Key yells, and everyone is scrambling out of the pool, randomly grabbing pieces of clothing as they escape.

“You kids can’t do this!” The house owner continues to yell at them, “I’m going to call the police!”

That sobers them up quickly enough. They tear through the gate and sprint down the street. Lulu is struggling to put on her shoes, so Taemin and Jonghyun hoist her off her feet, cradling her between them like a small child and easily jog down the road, even with her added weight.

Aorn grabs your hand to pull you along with her, even as she is yanked forward by Key’s arm around her waist and his quicker stride.

“We’ll never outrun them!” Onew yells in despair.

“Quick, get on these!” Key yells back, hopping onto a moped. There’s a row of them, just left unattended in the middle of the road. Everyone follows his lead, partnering up for efficiency. But you pause for a moment, watching them with a frown. You’ve never ridden a moped before—hell, you’ve never even ridden a bike.

Before you can make up your mind, Minho grabs your hand and yanks you onto the back of his moped. Startled, you have no choice but to wrap your arms tightly around his waist and hold on for dear life.

The wind feels amazing against your face and it whips your wet hair against your back. Minho feels even more amazing in your position pressed up against his back and you can’t help but lean down and press your nose into the center of his spine, inhaling deeply.

On the other side of you, Aorn is on the back of Onew’s bike and throws her arms into the air, whooping for joy. They honk nosily at you and speed past. Minho laughs and revs up the engine. You squeal and clamp your thighs around him for extra safety, and bury your face in his back again. You’re relieved that he can’t see your expression. But little do you know, he can feel the curve of your smile through the thin fabric of his shirt.

All too soon, you’re parking in the middle of town, outside a little convenience shop. You reluctantly jump off the back of Minho’s bike and look at Aorn questioningly.

She playfully blows a kiss at you, “We need alcohol, baby.”

You laugh in disbelief, and are about to step in the store to help them, when Lulu, Onew, and Jonghyun suddenly come bursting out of the store, a shopping cart loaded to the max with cans of beer and flasks of vodka in Onew’s grip.

“There’s a news report on us on the TV!” Jonghyun exclaims, the cans of beer overflowing his arms, “Let’s go!”

Lulu shrieks and runs past them all, half-sprinting, half-dancing as she dramatically twirls in the middle of the street, stopping traffic. Taemin chases after her, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her away from a cop car with a very confused-looking officer in the driver’s seat. Together, they blow raspberries at the window with a drawn out "Merong!" from Taemin, and sprint away.

You look up at Minho and he raises an eyebrow back at you. Your faces split into identical smiles and you both chase after the kids.

You lead them to the apartment you share with Aorn and Lulu. You take them to the roof to lounge around and drink the irrational number of beers in the shopping cart. The sun is setting now, and the whole roof is bathed in a reddish glow. From this distance, you can see the ocean. Lulu begins to dance. She’s been forced to take Rabam Lavo traditional dance lessons since childhood, and it’s finally paid off. When blended with her modern, hip hop skills, she is irresistible, and you can see all the boys slowly becoming hypnotized into her spell

Her dancing is infectious and soon the boys are all following in her lead, jumping around in excitement and shot-gunning beers off the roof. You laugh and follow in their lead. But when Key pushes a third beer on you, you can’t drink it fast enough and it spills on your shirt. You look down and are surprised to find that this isn’t even your own shirt. It’s huge and reaches your mid-thigh, making you look like you’re not wearing pants.

Laughing, you tell the gang that you have accidentally stolen the pool owner’s shirt in your rush to get away. They give you a standing ovation at that. Hooting with laughter, and Jonghyun insists that you take another shot of soju with him before you go. You are drunk on the warmth and adrenaline of the moment, feeling more alive than ever before, and the alcohol only heightens the feeling. You readily agree, then hurriedly rush back into your apartment for a change of clothes.

You have just slipped the casual white tank top over your head when a sound in the other room catches your attention. You peek into Aorn’s room and are shocked to find that she had Onew pressed against the wall… The wall plastered with pictures of the Shinee members. You wonder if he thinks you are all insane. You have no time to consider these thoughts when Aorn abruptly tugs the shirt over her head, revealing her red and white bandeau.

The tension between them is thick as she slowly leans in. You watch, with huge eyes, as Onew’s lips part and his eyes flicker down to Aorn’s lips. You feel like a voyeur, but can’t bring yourself to look away. But at the very last second, Onew turns his head, a hand pressed to his mouth blocking access.

Aorn sighs in disappointment but grins at him anyways. She turns and grabs his hand to drag him out of the room, to return to the party. You manage to duck in the hallway at the last second to avoid being caught, and hover there for a few moments, confused.

Is this not Stockholm Syndrome then? You can’t imagine any man in this world who can resist the sultry seduction of Aorn, especially a man under the effects of Stockholm Syndrome. Could it be that this wasn’t just an effect of their capture-bonding? Could it be that they actually wanted to be here?

You shudder at the consequences of your actions. At what will happen once you have to let them go. No legal system would be sympathetic towards the kidnappers of world famous idols. As the only responsible one, you should really call the cops now and turn yourselves in before you get into any worse trouble.

But then you remember the way Minho looked, grinning down at you in the pool, with droplets of water sliding down his smooth bare skin. You remember the way he felt in your arms when you rode on the back of his bike, all sculpted muscle and broad shoulders—a feeling you couldn’t bear to let go yet.

“Just one night,” you reason with yourself under your breath, “Dear God, I’ve never done anything wrong my whole life until this moment. Please let me have just one night with thi