Daniel might no longer have been into women, but surely he’d remember having met someone as dazzlingly beautiful as the woman now standing before him, snow white skin and sea green eyes temporarily arresting his ability to think.

She was a vision in black, dressed to the nines in elaborate clothing. Her mid-length dress was painstakingly embroidered in delicate, over-sized blossoms, cinched at the waist to accentuate her shapely figure. She stood a few inches taller than Daniel himself, contributing to her imposing countenance. Upon closer inspection, this could only have been attributed to her brand-name stilettos, sharp enough at the heels to kill, themselves inclined at an impossibly discomfiting angle. Over her shoulders she draped a blanket of fur, and Daniel had to wonder how many rabbits were tortured and skinned for their hides in order to tailor and stitch her overcoat together.

Strictly speaking, her remarkable appearance could very well have turned every single head within a fifteen-mile radius. 

“Have we met before?” Daniel inquired, mindful of jaundice-filled eyes watching his every move, as if to search through his soul for any signs of recognition. “I’m certain we haven’t, but my friends insist you’ve come looking for me.”

“Your friends were right,” she replied, flashing him a syrupy, almost sickening smile. “I’ve waited far too long for the chance to meet you.”

She stepped forwards with both hands outstretched, pulling Daniel into a stifling hug. Gasps from startled onlookers echoed around the room, transfixed as Daniel’s mystery visitor promptly stole the breath right out of him.

“Tight,” Daniel breathed, fighting not to cough and sputter. “Way too tight. Can’t… breathe. You’re… blocking my windpipes.”

“My bad,” she giggled, pushing herself away. “Sorry about that.” Daniel hadn’t the slightest idea what the expression on her face might’ve meant, but it was the farthest anyone could’ve possibly gotten from looking genuinely apologetic.

Do I know her from school, perhaps? Daniel thought to himself. That can’t be. I didn’t have any friends before I enrolled into Mireu.

“Your name,” Daniel began, combing his fringe back stiffly. “May I have that, at least?”

“It’s Chaerin,” she replied, disarming him effectively. “I’m a fan of yours.”

Daniel felt his blood run cold upon mention of the name, a disturbing, unwanted chill crawling flat-out through his spine.

She’s arrived, he thought. And she’s come looking for me.

“Song… Song Chaerin?” Daniel asked warily, afraid to hear his darkest of suspicions confirmed. “Am I right?”

“So you’ve heard of me,” Chaerin smiled, serpentine eyes regarding him coolly. “How come?”

Chaerin’s lenses, alluring as they were, reminded him distinctly of curious monstrosities. He felt as if an ancient basilisk had slithered his way, and was about to petrify him right where he stood. “How come?”

Daniel swallowed nervously, spooked beyond compare.

What could she possibly want from me?

“Seongwoo might’ve mentioned you,” he carefully admitted. “In passing. I do have notable memory with regards to these things.”

“Ah,” she exclaimed, pleased by the notion entirely. “I guess my ex-boyfriend’s missed me more than I’d previously wagered.”

Daniel’s jaw slackened and caused his mouth to fall open, stunned by the unwelcome epiphany. “Ex… ex-boyfriend?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Chaerin asked, oblivious to bystanders milling about to listen in secret to their piquant conversation. “He and I dated for quite a while—I was his first, and he likewise was mine. We lasted a good year or so in a relationship after that, until I’d decided it was high-time we split before we devolved into chaotic toxicity.”

I don’t understand,” Daniel muttered. “I was under the impression that you’d dated his cousin.”

“Cousin,” Chaerin whispered, proud smile dropping from her guise altogether. “I don’t remember him having a cousin.”

Daniel’s brows knit together, utterly confused. He braved eye-contact with her for the barest of moments, her vacant stare unnerving him and chilling him to the bone.

What’s her deal? Daniel thought. Why the denial of Haechan’s existence? Does she suffer from bouts of selective amnesia, or is she doing this to bait me on purpose?

And if so… What for?

“You don’t remember Go Haechan?” he asked, prying laboriously into her mystifying thoughts.

“I’m afraid the name doesn’t quite ring a bell for me,” Chaerin replied, shaking her head in innocent, almost angelic bliss. I’ve only ever been in love with Ong Seongwoo, after all.”

Daniel searched her features for any signs of disarmament, any such indication of unease out of guilt for dishonesty.

“This doesn’t compute,” Daniel mumbled, shifting weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I could’ve sworn he—“

“Hey Daniel!” Seongwoo called out from behind him, unaware of the dire circumstances at hand. “I heard from the others you’d cozied up to some chick, and I think it’s unfair that—“

Seongwoo stopped in his tracks, only then coming to identify Daniel’s unforeseen guest.

“Speak of the devil,” Chaerin smiled, flipping locks of hair over her shoulder. “Something wicked this way comes.”

Daniel watched in fraught anticipation as Seongwoo stalked over towards the both of them, expression blank and inscrutable.       

Tell me, Daniel whispered to himself. Tell me she’s not telling the truth.

“So you’ve arrived, huh?” Seongwoo said, taking a stance by Daniel’s side. His left arm extended outwards, pushing Daniel gently backwards as if to make a barricade of himself between the both of them. “Though I admit, I’d never have known you’d go so far as to escape justice by packing your bags and moving out of the country.”

“Look,” Chaerin began, her tone betraying a certain exhaustion Daniel couldn’t quite verify the potency of. “I understand you despise me still for breaking up with you, but we’re much better off contending elsewhere. The others are watching, and some of them have cameras, recording devices... Those things are likely to incriminate you for sordid behaviour, are they not?”

Seongwoo winced, as if he’d been blackmailed in the past with footage captured behind his back.

“Then stop it with the nonsense, already,” he appealed. “And don’t you dare even return where I can see you.”

“Don’t be so full yourself, Ong Seongwoo,” she warned, reaching out to glide a varnished finger downwards across the fabric of his vest. “This time around I didn’t come here for you.”

“Excuse me?” Seongwoo demanded, swatting her angrily away.

Daniel pulled at the folds of his undershirt, unsure of how best to proceed from there.

“Calm down, Seongwoo-ya,” Daniel whispered. “She claims she’s a fan of mine. Just don’t ask me why.”

Seongwoo turned to him, incredulous.

Really? He mouthed.

Daniel nodded curtly, aware of how Chaerin could make sense of the exchange.

“Figures,” Seongwoo huffed. “I should’ve known, Song Chaerin. You do have an awful taste for making advances towards the very people who won’t ever give a damn about you. Why settle for scraps when the finest hunk of meat is up for grabs, am I right?”

Daniel sighed in exhaustion, sure Seongwoo’s spirited demeanour pitted against Chaerin’s unruffled composure made for a bitter confrontation he’d rather not witness.

“It’s cute how spiteful you remain over the past,” Chaerin noted, smirking at Seongwoo triumphantly. “When I’ve almost forgotten we’d ever been a thing. Why not let bygones be bygones, Seongwoo-ya? Your grouchy whining makes you look pathetic.”

Oh no, Daniel thought, already panicking inwardly. Face him down as much as you’d like, but please don’t push his buttons.

Daniel’s arm moved impulsively forwards, tugging frantically at Seongwoo’s wrist.

“I don’t believe this,” Seongwoo exclaimed, miffed by Chaerin’s startling audacity. “Did you just—“

“Besides,” Chaerin interrupted, frightening Daniel all the more. “I’m not here just for the fun of it. I’ve returned to Mireu for work, and that in itself is beyond your control.”

“Work?” Seongwoo cried out, taken entirely aback. “You mean to tell me you’ve been hired?”

 “I guess it’s slipped the vice principal’s mind to inform you,” Chaerin shrugged. “I’ve been offered a job at the Mireu Artist Agency. I work here now, a celebrity stylist. And that, by the way, is an umbrella term for just about everyone about to make their way onstage.”

“Including,” she added, flashing them a lopsided smile. “The both of you. Unless of course, you’d rather show up - in public.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Seongwoo exclaimed. “As if I’d let you anywhere near my defenseless body ever again.”

“Def—defenseless body?” Daniel stammered. “What… what is that supposed to mean?”

“If you think I’d let go of this opportunity,” Chaerin smiled, eyes glinting with threatening mischief. “Then I’m afraid you’ve gone right off the hook.”

She stepped contemptuously forwards and into Seongwoo’s space, until the floral appliques sewn to her bosom tickled the fabric of Seongwoo’s rumpled uniform.

“Remember, Seongwoo-ya,” she whispered, draping an arm casually over his shoulder. “You and I have business left to take care of. This time, however… I’ve taken it upon myself to make things official.”

A torrent of jealousy came over Daniel, angered by the proximity between them.

Stop that, he thought. Don’t touch him.

 “We should go,” Daniel urged, tugging at Seongwoo’s arm with enough force to rock him off-balance until he fell back into Daniel’s waiting arms. “I don’t… I don’t think I like where this is going anymore.”

He pushed Seongwoo away by the small of his back, steadying him.

“Besides,” he added. “The others are watching. I’d hate for a misunderstanding to occur at a moment this crucial.”

“Yeah,” Seongwoo agreed, blushing for reasons Daniel couldn’t fathom. “Congratulations, Song Chaerin. Your timing’s impeccable, as per usual.”

“I missed you too,” Chaerin teased, blowing him a kiss. “But I’m Daniel’s fan now. You’d better have stepped up your game if you wanted me back.”

“Step up yours if you think I still care,” Seongwoo argued. “Let’s get going, Daniel-ah. That’s fifteen minutes of my life I’m never getting back, and I’d rather get myself disqualified from the Idol Project than waste even a couple seconds more on this garbage.”

He took Daniel by the hand, leading him away, leaving Chaerin in the dust behind them.

As soon as they were out of earshot, by the farthest corner of the backstage area, Seongwoo let go of Daniel’s hand out of embarrassment for how violently his own was shaking.

“This is madness,” he whispered to himself. “Why now, of all times? Why does it have to be when I’ve finally inched a step closer to my dream?”

“Are you alright?” Daniel asked, still unable to figure out why Seongwoo’s eyes filled with such terror in Chaerin’s presence. He inferred that Seongwoo’s unplanned declaration of Chaerin having attacked him while incapacitated might have had something to do with his spooked reaction, though Daniel decided that, in the meantime, he’d like to leave the gut-wrenching thought alone. 

“This is Jung Wooseok’s fault,” Seongwoo complained, agitatedly running his fingers through his hair, messing up its elaborate styling. “He should’ve warned me of her return.”

“You asked for Wooseok to track her?” Daniel inquired, unsure why the notion still confounded him when it was very much a Seongwoo thing to do.  “I thought she was hounding you herself.”

“I paid for Daehwi’s release with information on Chaerin’s whereabouts,” Seongwoo explained. “And her eventual return to Go Haechan. Did I forget to mention that? Whoops, my bad.”

“Don’t you dare ‘whoops, my bad’ me!” Daniel bellowed. “I should’ve known of all this ages ago! Is this why you’ve been so skittish as of late? Because you’re expecting her to turn up at our door at any moment?”

“Look,” Seongwoo began, hands in the air in voluntary surrender. “I understand that her arrival is ultimately my fault, as I’m sure Wooseok pulled his own strings for her to show up this way, but I never would’ve imagined she’d ask for you first. And believe me, I had every intention of protecting you and keeping you away, but her radar just—”

“Wait a minute,” Daniel interjected, appalled by the situation at hand. “If you wanted her to return so you could hand her over to Haechan like a sack of potatoes, then why demand for her to leave? Why tell her to scram? I could’ve sworn you—“

Daniel halted mid-sentence, gears and pinions in his brain rotating.

His mouth dropped as everything fell long overdue into place.

“Took you a while to figure things out,” Seongwoo remarked. “Though I suppose it’s easy to forget I’m an A-class student in another Track, given my devotion to this fancy competition.”

“Your world-class acting skills are undoubtedly frightening,” Daniel observed. “Might be wise to reconsider everything I’ve heard from you, thus far.”

“I had to pretend, you know,” Seongwoo explained. “It’s a nifty little trick I like to call ‘reverse psychology’. Demand for her to leave, and expect for her to do precisely the opposite. Chaerin’s predictable that way. She does whatever it is that I tell her not to.”

Seongwoo’s eyes darted to and fro at that point, scanning the vicinity for signs of clandestine movement, security cameras pointed their way, any such indication of an invisible audience watching them in total silence from afar. Once certain the coast was clear, he led Daniel by the hand towards an empty room, far-removed from everyone else.

“Seongwoo-ya,” Daniel began. “What are you—“

All at once, Seongwoo’s plush lips pressed fervently against his, wresting Daniel of his ability to think, speak, or breathe even just for a moment.

Nothing on earth made sense any longer, and neither did he care for as long as Seongwoo’s mouth moved expertly against his, drowning him one kiss after another.

Months ago, Daniel would’ve hated this. Back against the wall, pinned firmly into place, olfactory senses honing in on the evocative scent of Seongwoo’s musky perfume.

More than anything he would’ve hated Ong Seongwoo, whose dire exertion of dominance provoked him, irked him to no end, forced him anyway into grudging submission.

These days, he could never have enough.

And for that, he hated himself.

Seongwoo’s mouth moved from his lips to his chin, grazing sensitive skin as little shivers of pleasure coursed through his body.

“Seongwoo-ya,” Daniel whispered, his lover’s mouth trailing downwards to kiss the base of his neck. “Seongwoo-ya, that…”

“Hmm?” Seongwoo whispered back. “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” Daniel stammered, dazed by the delightful sensation of Seongwoo’s mouth against his skin, the rest of their limbs still entangled together.

“I just…” he began. “That…”

Seongwoo’s hands fumbled with the top-most button of his undershirt, coming undone with swift motions of slender, skillful fingers.

“That what?” he asked.

“Ahh,” Daniel blushed, guiltily aroused as Seongwoo nipped at the skin by his collarbone. “That… that feels kind of nice.”

“Is that what you’ve been meaning to say?” Seongwoo chuckled, pushing slightly away. “I can’t tell. You’re giving me that bedroom-eyes look again, and honestly, it’s driving me insane.”

He smiled, wiping at the lip gloss smeared by the side of Daniel’s lower lip.

I’m no match for that smile, Daniel thought. I just can’t get enough of it.

“These kisses too,” he sighed. “I can’t seem to get enough of them, either.”

Both his arms s around Seongwoo’s neck, pulling him in even closer.

“More, please,” he begged. “Just one more.”

The kiss was different this time around, feverish yet chaste, gentle pecks against his lips swollen red.

Daniel rather liked these types of kisses, rare as they may have been where Ong Seongwoo was concerned.

He moved in for yet another, head tilting slightly at an angle.

Half a beat later, he felt a curious vibration in his nether regions, cheeks flushing scarlet as Seongwoo’s gaze laid to rest upon his crotch.

“What… what was that?” Seongwoo asked.

“Phone,” Daniel clarified, fishing the wafer-thin Android device out of the depths of his outermost pocket. “I think I might’ve just received someone’s text.”

“Your service provider has signal in places like these?” Seongwoo asked. “Well, that .”

Moments later, his phone buzzed frenetically, this time alerting him to an incoming call.

“Who is it?” Seongwoo inquired, attempting to read from the device upside-down.

“No idea,” Daniel shrugged. “These digits weren’t saved to my Phonebook.”

“Is that so?” Seongwoo replied. “Could be dangerous enough to warrant our precaution, then. Give it here, Daniel-ah. I’ll take it.”

Daniel swiped at the call icon, pressing the phone to Seongwoo’s left ear.

“Hi there,” he said. “Daniel has you on speaker, so please don’t yap into my eardrum, whoever the hell you are. Unless you’re pushing some variant of spam, in which case I suggest that you put the phone down. I am not—I repeat not— interested in your collateral loans whatsoever.”

“You were better off with the loans,” Wooseok’s husky voice growled over the phone. “But I take it you’ve met Song Chaerin? Though I must admit, your blazing temper is a feat of nature. That reunion went downhill in no time.”

“Jung Wooseok? Wait, I’m sorry, but how come you know that?” Seongwoo demanded. “Have you been stalking me?”

“Not exactly,” Wooseok replied. “I have ways, though I’d be a fool to divulge on the details. That aside, I’ve watched the last couple minutes unfold from behind you.”

“Behind me?” Seongwoo repeated. “And by that, you mean…?”

“I suggest,” Wooseok said. “You take my word for it. Literally.”

Dexterous movement by the doorway caught Daniel’s attention, subtle enough for him to miss had he been facing even the barest inch further in the opposite direction. His restless gaze moved towards the entrance to the abandoned dressing room they’d taken shelter in, eyes locking instantly with Jung Wooseok’s.

“OH ME,” Daniel exclaimed. “What have you been doing over there? That scared me, you !”

“Full disclosure,” Wooseok remarked, hands in both pockets as he pranced towards the both of them, utterly pleased with himself. “But my boyfriend’s in Seoul, and I don’t think he’d like it should I take you up on that offer. And far be it from me to stop him from stomping you flat. Yuto does know aikido, after all.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Seongwoo clarified, pissed that he had to explain what should’ve already been glaringly obvious. “Or at the very least, he shouldn’t. Otherwise I’m necking him.”

“Your penchant for violence is a turn-off,” Daniel huffed. He detached himself from the wall, ducking below Seongwoo’s still outstretched right arm. His eyes swiveled Wooseok’s way, grimacing disgruntledly at him. “Just tell us where you’ve gone in hiding, next time.”

“Then there’d be no point to hiding, would there?” Wooseok replied, offhandedly enough to aggravate him even further. “Besides, a spy’s not a spy without his secrets, and in case you’ve forgotten I am one by profession.”

“Let’s just get to the point,” Seongwoo sighed. “What have you come here for? If it’s to apologize for not updating me on Chaerin’s whereabouts, then I apologize, but keep it to yourself. I’ve already told our maknae you’re an untrustworthy, double-dealing felon, so I’m afraid your ‘Operation: Drag Kuanlin’s Back to Taipei’ is temporarily on-hold until he forgives you.”

“Let me explain,” Wooseok began, evidently on the brink of losing his cool. “It isn’t that I’ve neglected my duties. The thing is, my database runs solely within the geographic limits of the country we live in, so I can’t exactly dig up reliable intel outside the borders of South Korean soil. And Chaerin, as I’m sure you know, has lived in Los Angeles for the past couple years. You did facilitate the cause for that, after all.”

“But why is she in Seoul right now, of all times?” Daniel demanded. “Her timing is much too inauspicious for it to be a product of simple coincidence.”

“Now that,” Wooseok admitted. “Would be my fault. I did research on her background, found out soon enough she was an aspirant of styling renown. So I pulled a few strings here and there, used my connections in the digital stratosphere to have her recommended for a spot in Mireu’s ranks. I’m sure that way, you can keep a closer watch.”

 “You reap what you sow, I guess,” Seongwoo asked. “I should never have agreed to this in the first place.”

He led Daniel by the wrist towards the door, eyeing Wooseok distrustfully as he went. “I still think you’re a twit for walking in on us making out.”

“You’re better off frisking about elsewhere,” Wooseok smiled. “The layer of dust in here is thick enough to trigger an allergy, and Daniel sneezing in your face would have ruined the mood.”

“My mood is ruined either way,” Seongwoo shrugged. “And making it into Round Two is the only remedy. Come on, Daniel-ah. We have results to celebrate over.”

The lights were blinding onstage and Daniel could hardly make out a thing, and yet Chaerin’s presence front and center in the audience still failed to escape his vigilant notice.

All the contestants, a hundred and one strong, were cramped together and scattered onstage, huddled in groups across the elevated platform. They waited with bated breaths for the cameras to roll, and for the emcee’s voice to fill the void, declaring once and for all the victorious contenders who were to return in two weeks’ time for yet another explosive performance.

I want to make it in, Daniel thought. No, I have to.

He felt Seongwoo squeeze his clammy hand once, a silent gesture of affection and reassurance. Daniel promptly squeezed his back, grateful for his bolstering presence.

“We’ll make it in, don’t worry,” Seongwoo whispered from behind him. “We’ve worn ourselves out with practice far too much for us not to.”

Daniel flashed him a heartened smile, nodding once to put his own mind to rest, and twice for Seongwoo to know he understood.

Seongwoo’s other hand was gently massaging Kuanlin’s back, whose own hands were quavering out of sheer unease. Daniel’s heart softened at the warmth in his gesture, aware of how persistently their youngest had worked, not stopping for rest until he mastered the choreography. He may have had the least experienced in dance amongst them, but this was easily offset by his determination in learning. But Daniel knew—should they fail to make the cut tonight—Kuanlin would beat himself up and take the blame for everything.

I can’t let that happen, he thought. The road can’t end now, when we’ve just gotten started.

Moments later, Super Junior’s Leeteuk made his way onstage, having been appointed the emcee for the night. He waved a hand enthusiastically at the crowd, who responded back with cheers of their own.

“The time has come, everyone,” he spoke into the mic. “For us to announce the line-up of groups who have successfully made it into Round Two of the Idol School Project: Produce 101.”

Daniel’s volatile heart jumped excitedly in his chest, its rhythmic beating rising rapidly to a violent crescendo.

“Sixteen different acts performed for us tonight,” Leeteuk forged on. “Each with their own unique spin to a classic hit. Which of these groups managed to capture the hearts of the viewing public? And who fell short of the audience’ expectations? Who will prevail and move on to the next leg of this competition, keeping the dream of a debut alive?”

“I think I’m about to piss my pants,” Daniel heard Jaehwan blurt out from afar. He stifled a chuckle, the others around him snickering at the absurdity to Jaehwan’s out-of-the-blue and unnecessarily noisy remark.

“Did we make it?” Daniel sighed to himself. “I can’t stand being kept in the dark.”

Leeteuk’s singsong voice blared across the concert hall, stunning Daniel into silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for us to find out.”

From behind, Daniel observed as Leeteuk swapped out the cue card with the results in-hand, inadvertently prolonging his agony.

“The first group of eight through to the next round, “ Leeteuk began. “With a total of 67, 737 combined votes from the live audience and the online voting polls, and four out five possible votes from our esteemed panel of judges…”

Daniel’s hand swiped through the air in search of Seongwoo’s, sure he’d collapse without a fulcrum to lean on.

This is it, he thought. Any moment now.

“Congratulations Just Be Joyful!” Leeteuk roared into the microphone. Thunderous applause rumbled throughout the venue, in unified celebration of JBJ’s triumph. Daniel’s heart dropped from his chest and onto the floor, a surge of jubilation coursing through him in brief deliverance from his invariable jitters. The next few minutes were spent in heartfelt congratulations of their friends, Daniel still shaking in involuntary tremors.

“Onto the next group, everyone!” Leeteuk announced, shattering Daniel’s self-composure a second time over.

“I think I’m about to throw up my dinner,” he whispered. “Funny, when I haven’t had the chance to eat all morning and night.”

The nauseating process recast itself five times more in succession, until they were left with only the highest-scoring rankings up for grabs.

“Two of them left,” Daniel muttered. “The odds are stacked against us, aren’t they?”

“What’s new?” Seoongwoo whispered back. “Don’t you worry, though. I’m almost certain your glorious abs have hard-carried us all the way through to the top.”

“This is hardly the time for joking around,” Daniel scolded. “I’m uneasy enough as it is without your stifling expectations.”

“The second to the last group making it into the semi-final,” Leeteuk began, interrupting Seongwoo’s would-be response. “Garnered a total of 101,233 votes from the public, setting the record for the highest cumulative tally of votes, higher still than the group in first place. They, however, received only four out of five possible votes from the judges, failing to impress EXO’s Zhang Yixing.”

Daniel swallowed, having been keen on impressing EXO’s Lay more than anyone else forming the panel of judges. He was a die-hard fan of EXO, and would have his heart broken into splinters should his favorite member deem Wanna One unworthy.

“Forget that, Kang Daniel,” he told himself. “Not placing at all is more horrendous than that.”

“And the runner-up for tonight’s performance…” Leeteuk’s voice rang out.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of both hearing and not hearing their group name called out.

I want to make it, he thought. As long as we make it.

I want a chance. I want to debut.

And I want to be with him for years to come. With all of them.

 “Congratulations,” Leeteuk declared, his voice a siren in Daniel’s head, loud and clear. “To our boys in love, Wanna One!”

Everything split into chaos after that.

The rest of Wanna One huddled around him in a tight-knit circle, euphoric screams and shouts of joy tearing right through his fragile eardrums. Gangly arms stretched out every which way, an intricate tangle of limbs caging him right in, rooting him firmly to the spot where he stood.

Ear-splitting cheers erupted from the audience, shaking him, unnerving him, leaving him utterly breathless. He was dizzy, thrown off-balance, and much too astonished for words, so he simply stood there amidst the ruckus, taking the massive upheaval in.

It was by goddamn far the best feeling in the world.

“We made it,” Seongwoo exclaimed, forcing his way past everyone. He took both of Daniel’s hands in his, tugging at them slightly to pull Daniel in. The snug embrace seemed to last them a lifetime. “We made it through, Niel,” Seongwoo whispered, tickling the back of his ear. “We actually made it.”

“And finally in first place,” Leeteuk’s voice sharply cut through the hubbub. “With a grand total of 94, 859 votes and a clean sweep of the judges’ votes, congratulations to our very own maknae group, B.O.I.!”

For what may have been the thousandth time over, the audience broke out into deafening applause.

“Living up to their name as the Best of Idols,” Leeteuk continued. “Today’s winners—Zhu Zhengting, Ahn Hyungseob, Kim Samuel, Yoo Seonho, Huang Justin, Lee Woojin, Yoon Taejoon and Go Hyunwoo—thoroughly impressed the judges and viewers alike with a smooth rendition of Shinee’s ‘Juliette’, showcasing both their fresh, youthful image as a group, as well as their charismatic charms as individuals.”

The moment Leeteuk’s spiel ground once more to a halt, Daniel felt a pair of reedy arms encircling his waist from behind, taking him entirely by surprise.

“Congratulations, Daniel-hyung,” a small voice spoke up, cracking in places as if to stifle a cry.

“If it isn’t our little ppiyak ppiyak byeongari,” Daniel exclaimed. “Congrats on that win, Seonho-ya. Our Shinee-sunbaenims would have been very proud of you.”

He turned himself around to embrace Seonho full-on, wrapping both hands around his slender waist in return.

This feels kind of strange, Daniel mused at random. Seongwoo’s figure isn’t quite this skinny. In fact, he’s rather muscular, and ripped underneath his shirt so I—

 “Ehem,” Seongwoo coughed, interrupting Daniel’s sinful thought process. “Don’t know about either of you guys, but I’m sure this embrace doesn’t have to last quite this long.”

Daniel blushed, pushing Seonho almost forcefully away. “Sorry about that.”

“Have you seen Kuanlin-hyung?” Seonho asked, unfazed. “I need to give him a hug, too.”

“Right over there,” Seongwoo replied, pointing over his shoulder. “Though I highly suggest you skip out on that hug. If you don’t want a wild Jihoon coming for you, that is.”

“Not to worry,” Seonho exclaimed, skipping over to where Kuanlin stood. “I’ll give Jihoon-hyung a nice little hug, too.”

“Good luck with that,” Seongwoo sighed. “Come back here alive, kid.”

“You think he’ll be fine?” Daniel asked, out of concern for his safety. Jihoon was harmless where most other people were concerned, but where Seonho was concerned he went absolute bonkers.

 “You don’t think he’s harbouring a crush on our giant maknae, is he?” Daniel whispered. “Yoo Seonho.”

“Beats me,” Seongwoo shrugged. “Remember Jihoon whining about Kuanlin’s phone ringing in the middle of the night? Seonho’s been persistent in asking if they can finally hang out.”

“Why are they together at twelve in the morning?” Daniel demanded. “You don’t think they’re…”

“Calm thyself,” Seongwoo interrupted. “They aren’t like that. They stayed up playing NBA 2K18 on Kuanlin’s Playstation 4, and Jihoon refused rest until he finally won.”

“Is that so?” Daniel remarked. “They pulled an all-nighter, then.”

“Legend has it they haven’t slept in two weeks.”

Daniel stifled a laugh, whacking playfully at Seongwoo’s right arm.

“Don’t say things like that. Otherwise, I’ll—“

 “Congratulations,” a voice spoke up from behind. “You did well today. You too, Seongwoo-hyung.”

Daniel’s head whipped sideways in utter surprise, realizing Yoon Taejoon had addressed them, before walking sedately away.

“Now that was a shocker,” Seongwoo remarked. “Are we at the onset of the apocalypse, or did I hallucinate Taejoon’s uncharacteristic politeness to the both us, just then?”

“I can’t tell,” Daniel shrugged. “I myself have never seen him that placid before.”

Both of them moved inwards, into the sea of people. They offered sincere congratulations to everyone in their path including those who didn’t make it, out of recognition for their hard, earnest work. As they went, their heads turned every which way, in frantic search of Lee Daehwi and an explanation for Taejoon’s erratic behaviour.

In the end, Daehwi found them first.

“There you are!” Daehwi exclaimed, sauntering excitedly towards them. “I’ve been looking all over for the both you.”

“So have we,” Daniel admitted. “We have questions. Lots of them.”

“Questions?” Daehwi repeated, head tilting in signature fashion. “What about?”

“Not tryna ruin the mood by mentioning Taejoon at random,” Seongwoo whispered. “But has he been acting kind of… strange, as of late?”

Daehwi’s eyes blinked in rapid-fire motions, unable to internalize what it in particular he was getting at. “And by strange, you mean…?”

“I mean he doesn’t stare us down as if he’s about to choke us to death in our sleep.”

“Ah,” Daehwi exclaimed, in perfect recognition of their sensible concern. “You noticed that, too?”

“He offered us congratulations for making it in,” Daniel supplied. “I’d assume he’d do as much in order to rub in the fact that his group’s in first place. But the way he said it… surprisingly didn’t make me want to strangle him or wallop him unconscious.”

Daehwi considered this for a long moment, eyes forlorn and cast to the floor.

“Don’t let him know I’ve clued you guys in,” Daehwi whispered. “But I happen to think he’s gotten ill.”

“Ill?” Daniel and Seongwoo chimed in chorus, loud enough for both of Daehwi’s hands to fly reflexively upwards to muffle their voices.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone else,” he warned. “But Taejoon’s mentioned having to revisit the hospital.”

“Revisit?” Daniel asked. “Does he not have family in confinement at the moment? I don’t wager he’d have permission to perform on stage like that, if he’s ailing enough to require periodic visits to the hospital.”

“Beats me,” Daehwi sighed. “He’s never taken it upon himself to inform me of his hardships. Besides, he gives his pride way more importance than his health, so I don’t think he’d ever give us the chance to find him out.”

Daniel and Seongwoo exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to make of the situation. Daniel had to admit he liked neither Taejoon’s obsession over Daehwi, nor his insolent, pompous attitude, but that didn’t mean he’d wish Taejoon any harm.

“I think you guys should talk,” he suggested. “You don’t have to be there for him if it makes you uncomfortable, but I’m sure you’re the only person he’d even begin to warm up to.”

“Don’t you keep this to yourself, though,” Seongwoo warned. “Jinyoung’s your boyfriend, now, so I’m sure he’d be appreciative of any efforts to send him word of what you’re up to. You know how he is… the only thing he cares about these days is making sure you’re standing out of harm’s way.”

“I understand,” Daehwi nodded, smiling at both of them in turn. “Thank you Daniel-hyung, Seongwoo-hyung. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Seongwoo reached out to ruffle his tidy mop of hair, the same time as Daniel reaching over to pat him affectionately on the shoulder.

“Don’t expect me to intervene on your behalf, though,” Seongwoo remarked. “I’m much too afraid of getting involved now that you’ve filled me in on the details of your fight with Yoon Taejoon. Nowadays, I can’t even tell you off without fearing for my ballsack, or tell Jinyoung off without fearing for my arm. I like them attached to the rest of my body, thank you very much.”

“And as much as we’d like to help you figure out your worries,” Daniel sighed. “We have our own mound of hardships to plow through, most unfortunately.”

Daehwi nodded, the makings of concern etched onto his features.

“You’ve met Chaerin?” he guessed. “I knew it, Jinyoung and I should never have betrayed Daniel-hyung’s location.”

Seongwoo shook his head, as if to let Daehwi know he didn’t have to take the blame. “It wouldn’t have been that hard for her to find him either way. Given how swimmingly Daniel stands out from the crowd, Chaerin’s ‘you’re y and I want you’ radar would’ve effortlessly noticed his presence.”

“Daehwi-ya!” Jinyoung called out from behind them then, punctuating their ominous exchange. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I need to leave,” Daehwi said. “Jinyoung’s asking for me, and I’d hate to keep him waiting.”

“You go ahead,” Seongwoo replied, waving him off with a flick of his wrist. “And good luck. The both of us will stay and look on for the others.”

“The both of us will stay and look on for the others, you say?” Daniel whispered, sighing against Seongwoo’s lips pressed to his neck. “We’re in a bathroom stall, you absolute fiend.”

“Did I say that?” Seongwoo asked, hands moving in lazy, exploratory movements along the length of Daniel’s upper body. “Forgive me, I don’t remember.”

The festivities were over the night, and everyone from that point on was instructed to make his way back home. And thus, after having greeted his classmates and some of his fans, Daniel had expressed his intention of returning to their bedroom along with the rest of the student body.

Ong Seongwoo, however, had other plans for the both of them.

Daniel might’ve been suspicious of where Seongwoo was headed, but he decided not to overthink things this time around, and simply let himself get dragged peacefully along.

And Daniel might’ve complained about making out in the dark, but he returned Seongwoo’s kisses either way, eager for a chance to placate his own longing.

 “We didn’t have to do this in here, though,” he remarked. “This cubicle’s stuffy. Not exactly the place for romantic exploits.”

“You’d be surprised,” Seongwoo said simply. “Besides, did you really think I’d last long enough for the both of us to reach the bedroom before I finally gave in to my desires? Doesn’t help that Wooseok interrupted us in action a while back…. Guess you can say we’re here to finish what we’ve already started.”

Daniel giggled, pinching at Seongwoo’s cheeks to push him away. “You, my friend, have zero self-control.”

Seongwoo winked at him in return, unperturbed by his accusations. “And you’re looking good in that shirt, have I mentioned that?”

“More than is necessary.”

Daniel unfastened himself from the wall, leading Seongwoo by the hand out the door. “Keep yourself in control a bit more. I have something important to tell you.”

Seongwoo, taken aback by Daniel’s serious tone, simply stared into his eyes as if to search them for his own reflection. Daniel led him out the door, expecting a headstrong remark or two, but Seongwoo—unlike himself—simply kept silent the whole way through.

Does he know? Daniel thought. Of what I’m about to tell him?

And if so… why the quiet? Is he not enraged? Resentful? Hurt?

Anything. Because the easier it turns out for him to accept my apology, the harder it will become for me to forgive myself.

For how long I’ve let the pretense last, for leaving him to drown in guilt he never deserved. I have to atone for all this… somehow.

They walked hand in hand towards Stella Peak, taking the long way round so as to avoid the cameramen still milling about. Once they arrived at the lobby at the foot of the dormitories, Seongwoo’s feet accelerated in pace, moving past him and up the stairs.

Somehow, it felt to Daniel like a solemn procession towards a place of heavy burden, a place from which he sought escape until this very moment.

You didn’t tell him, he remembered. Because you thought he’d never love you.

You were afraid of losing against yourself, against Kang Euigyeon, against the love of Seongwoo’s life whose death he still believes in, mourns, and thinks is his entirely his fault.

Why prolong his agony that way?

Because you were selfish, and lacked the courage. Because you feared losing him for even a moment, when he still thinks he’s lost Euigyeon forever. How is that not unfair?

As soon as they stepped into the entrance to the living room, Seongwoo tugged at the folds of his sleeve, an indication of his desire to ask him right then and there what was happening.

“Hey, Daniel—“ he began.

“About that,” Daniel interrupted. “My name. Kang Daniel. That… that isn’t…”

That isn’t mine. Not anymore.

Before he could gather the courage enough to speak up, Seongwoo wordlessly crossed the yawning distance between them, draping both arms around him.

Time and again he’d been in Seongwoo’s embrace, and yet this was the very first time he’d held Daniel this way. With both arms around his neck instead of his waist, a gesture not of intimacy but of desperation, not to say I want you, but to say I need your help.

Not to mend your heart, but to break it.

And it does. One painful shard after another.

 “I get it,” Seongwoo whispered. “I get it already. But please… before you say anything else, I’d like it if you could hear me out first.”

Daniel’s hands fisted at his sides, his final struggle against the tears he fought so hard to keep at bay.

They moved towards Seongwoo’s waist, gathering the fabric of his shirt in folds.

For a long moment they stood there, shrouded in silence, hearts beating and fissuring as one.  

After a while Daniel pushed him away, wiping at the moisture by the sides of his eyes. This smudged out the ink on his lid, but Daniel stopped in caring for appearances long ago. He simply walked over to Seongwoo’s bed, sitting by the edge next to the stack of pillows. He patted the area of the comforter beside him, gesturing for Seongwoo to accompany him there.

“You had something to say?” he asked, after Seongwoo seated himself by Daniel’s side, inches away yet miles apart.

“About the whole ‘friends with some amazing benefits’ ordeal…” Seongwoo began.

Daniel blinked in astonishment, having thought their downbeat confrontation was headed elsewhere.

“What about it?” he asked, speaking into the thunderous silence.

Seongwoo extended one hand out towards him, palm facing upwards. Daniel took it in his own reflexively, as if the affectionate response had become second nature. “I think I’d like to make amends to that.”

Daniel blushed, taken aback by his forthright confession.

Is he… he can’t be.

Why at this very moment?

Don’t ask this of me now, he thought to himself. How am I to commit before I’ve even come clean?

“Well then,” he declared instead. “Tell me everything. I’m all ears.”

Seongwoo offered him a heartfelt smile then, the kind that made his eyes sparkle and gleam in brilliance, a beam of starlight trapped entirely in flesh.

It was the smile Daniel cherished, and thought of each day, the smile he fought for and peppered with kisses.

And if I tell you everything, he thought. Will that smile disappear forever?

“Remember how Daehwi slipped once, and said I was your boyfriend?” Seongwoo began.

“Sure I do,” Daniel nodded. “That happened last week.”

“I expected a correction, if truth be told,” Seongwoo admitted. “For you to say he’d gotten our relationship wrong, for you to burst into fits of animated denial… for you to blush, perhaps, since you’re kind of good at that.”