In the end, you couldn’t do it.

Waiting on one person to respond would have been way easier than waiting around for one of seven users to realize what happened. It was as if all seven had conspired to ignore your message. Yet still, you chalked it up to coincidence and absurdity. Really, seven soulmates? As if. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’d returned their devices right then and there. In the meantime, your device had rebooted on its own several times, losing connection with the database off and on. Someone was trying to fix it, but it didn’t seem like they were getting anywhere.

By midnight, your nerves had eaten your pride and soul. You wouldn’t admit you spent seventeen hours waiting for someone, anyone, to respond. Mama tried to calm you down. She’d even temporarily convinced you that maybe they needed time to come to terms with it. There was no telling how long they’d had their SM believing that they didn’t have someone. Or, if they’d returned their device, it took a week for the company to mail a letter to the person if they didn’t ask to be notified by text or email. It could have been a glitch in the system or a person who’d had different types of SeoulMates devices.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the glitch being seven pairs, not just one. She seemed happier after giving it to you and you didn’t want to take that away. 

But then Saturday came and went.

Sunday.

Monday.

Tuesday.

One week.

Two weeks.

You never gave up. You sent a greeting to each of them every day and ended the day with a lonely goodnight. Customer service began taking your calls again but had nothing more to offer than promises that tech support had your ticket and was working on the issue. They wouldn’t tell you if the other users had reported the issue. Wouldn’t even tell you their names.

It had been a particularly trying day of work when you came home and crashed on your bed. You didn’t feel like taking a shower and reheating your dinner despite feeling icky and your stomach growling. You wanted to throw your SeoulMate out the window. After breaking down and calling customer support again, a different agent confirmed all seven users were actively wearing their devices. So, they were ignoring you. And that hurt.

None of them had a profile picture, so you didn’t even know what they looked like. They didn’t want to see your face. You bit your lip hard, willing your tears to go away. It was okay. They weren’t the first person to want nothing to do with you. This was more for Mama’s sake than yours anyway. You pulled your phone out and opened the SM app. You winced at the previous unanswered message then typed out a new one. A final one.

[You:] I’m not sure if I’ve done something to scare you off or if you’re just ignoring me.

[You:] Either way, it’s not healthy for me to keep trying to talk to you when it’s clear none of you want to talk.

[You:] I’m gonna take my SM back in the morning, so you won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.

[You:] Have a nice life, I guess.

By the time you’d sent the last message, tears were falling again. As much as you wanted to pretend you were strong and unfazed by the passive rejection, you just didn’t have the strength. You rolled over onto your side, tucked your hands between your knees, and let yourself cry. You cried until the walls of your room melted away and sleep claimed you.

Hours later, you woke up to your phone buzzing with a notification. You pressed the power button, illuminating the screen to display the time. It was only five. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise. Still half asleep, you checked your text messages. Nothing. You opened FB, Instagram, and Twitter. Nothing. Then what the hell-

DING!

You nearly dropped your phone as an alert from the SeoulMate app appeared below the status bar. You had a message from Mystery Person #3. ‘Oh, .’ Did you piss them off? Good. They deserved it. Maybe he or she was ranting. You were feeling petty, up for a nice argument. You opened the app and loaded the messages, but you weren’t prepared for what you found.

[SM3:] Please don’t.

All things considered, Jackson was doing exceptionally well. If it’d been left up to him, he would have responded to your messages as soon as the first one came through. It’d been painful to ignore them the first two days until he caved and started reading them. The first one satisfied his curiosity but gave birth to a hunger for knowledge about you he couldn’t feed elsewhere.

Judging by the lack of reaction from the others, he figured he was the only one getting and reading your messages. Somehow, it made him feel special, important. Chosen. He liked that a lot. During long flights between cities, he began responding to your messages but never sent the responses. Your updates about your life and questions about him gave him something to look forward to after a long trip or emotionally stressful event. In a way, you became his escape. A lifeline that kept him from sinking on the bad days. He wouldn’t have been able to explain it if asked. That’s just the way it was. And he was fine with it.

The world shifted on its axis again fourteen days after pairing with you.

Youngjae sat next to him in the van when they were returning to their hotel. He toyed with his SeoulMate restlessly as the others piled in. Yugyeom sat on the other side of Youngjae. Before long, the van was packed and rolling away from the venue.

“Are we really going to ignore her?” Youngjae asked softly, eyes focused on his device. “Would it really be so bad to say hi?”

By the time the last word slipped out, the van was eerily quiet. Jaebeom had twisted around in his seat to look over the middle row at Youngjae. “We don’t have a choice—”

“Yes, we do,” Yugyeom spoke up. “And we’re choosing to be s.”

“Oh, don’t start that again.” Jinyoung groaned and looked over his shoulders.

“Start what? Being honest?” Yugyeom rolled his eyes. “I can understand if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be an honest, decent person. You started out complaining about the whole setup yet you’ve taken to it like a fish in water.”

Then they were arguing. Jackson knew he should step in, help Jaebeom restore order, but…he couldn’t help but agree with Youngjae. His gut told him it was wrong yet he couldn’t bring himself to break the rules. He was terrified of the consequences of going against the companies. But what if this was his only chance for a soulmate? What if the issue was resolved only to find he didn’t have a soulmate at all?

What if…he was destined to be alone forever?

He’d gladly share you if it meant he wouldn’t die alone. If it meant he was worth being loved in some way. But as he tuned back into Yugyeom and Jinyoung’s yelling match, he wondered if he really meant it. This soulmate business was starting to tear the group apart. Playful Yugyeom was gradually getting more bitter and irritated. Youngjae spoke and smiled less. Jaebeom had an eternal migraine. Mark paid less attention to them while Jinyoung took issue with anyone who spoke favorably about soulmates. BamBam spent more time with the staff to escape the arguments. And he…he was lost in his imagination with a girl he’d probably never meet.

The guys all but shoved their way out of the van when it pulled up to the hotel. Youngjae hung back as Jackson got out, unease written all over his face. “Hey, hyung?”

“Yeah?” Jackson fell into step beside Youngjae as they brought up the rear of their small crowd.

“Do-do you read her messages? Or have you blocked her like Jinyoung?” Youngjae looked around then continued, “I read them, but I don’t message her.”

Jackson nodded, his chest tightening at Youngjae’s confession. “I read them too.”

Youngjae’s jaw dropped before he quickly schooled his expression. “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I feel so bad for her. Part of me hopes a reset will give her someone she can actually talk to or be with. Being our soulmate would .”

Though Jackson nodded, the words made his stomach turn. Again, the fear of loneliness consumed his heart and rational thought. ‘What if there isn’t another chance?’ He thought miserably. It hopelessly rattled around in his brain on the ride up to their floor, even after he’d closed the room door behind him. Luckily he was rooming with Youngjae so he didn’t have to put forth the effort to look happy or keep up with Yugyeom and BamBam’s energy.

Once he got out of the shower, Youngjae slipped on his shoes. “Time for a walk?”

Youngjae nodded. “Yeah. I don’t feel like setting up my laptop or hitting the gym.”

Jackson held up his phone. “I’ll probably be up for a little while longer. If you need me—”

Youngjae smiled and waved him off. “I know, I know.” Then he left.

Not even a minute after Jackson had climbed into his bed and picked up his phone, his SeoulMate device chimed with a new message. ‘Just in time,’ he thought happily. Yet, what he read made his blood run cold and his heart painfully skip a beat.

[💚Soulmate💚]: I’m not sure if I’ve done something to scare you off or if you’re just ignoring me.

[💚Soulmate💚]: Either way, it’s not healthy for me to keep trying to talk to you when it’s clear you don’t want to talk.

[💚Soulmate💚]: I’m gonna take my SM back in the morning, so you won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.

[💚Soulmate💚]: Have a nice life, I guess.

He panicked, thumbs swiping over the screen in a blur.

[You:] Please don’t.

Jackson stared at the bright screen. It glowed like a beacon in the darkness of the hotel room, exposing him for what he’d just done. Two words. That’s all he’d sent. Two words too many. Two words too few. The fear of losing you, the person he wanted to meet more than anyone else in the world, had pushed him to violate the terms of the contract.

.

But he owed you an explanation. He'd been reading all of your messages, selfishly delighting in your attempts to reach out to one of them because it showed that you cared. That you really wanted to talk to him. That you really cared about him and who he was and what he did. He didn't think about what the silence on his end would do to you. If it hurt. He worried that if you knew who they were or what they did, that would change your view of him. He wanted your honest reaction to his true self and not the fame. He worried that you would be scared off, unwilling to deal with the fans, both good and bad. That you’d only see them for their status and money. Pains from his past coloring his fears.

Yet, here in the middle of the night, you’d shown him the crack in your heart. The guilt of it ate him alive, pushed his fingers to tap out a hasty reply without stopping to consider the consequences. He wanted to kick himself. What would the others say? What would the lawyers say?

He looked over your words again. ‘Have a nice life?’ How? He was sure he couldn't live with himself knowing he'd hurt his soulmate.

Ugh.

He quietly put his phone down on the nightstand next to the bed. He'd have to tell someone. He was ty at keeping things from the others, especially Jaebeom. He shuddered. Telling Jaebeom would be the death of him, but he owed Jaebeom that much. Honesty was one of the things they valued and honored before reason. He shut his eyes and let out a quiet huff. Okay, so in the morning, he'd tell Jaebeom. Then they'd go from there. Because now that he'd opened the channel for communication between them, you deserved the chance to chew him out. He knew you’d ask a ton of questions and he'd need help answering them without giving too much away.

Yeah. Things would be okay.

"You did what?" Jackson flinched as Jaebeom's voice rang in his ears. Okay, so maybe things wouldn't be okay. "What were you thinking?"

"She was gonna take it back! Then I'd never meet her. Wasn't that the point of this whole thing? To look for our soulmate?" Jackson slouched down until his seat belt threatened to strangle him.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and turned back around in his seat. “Why would you bother? It’s clearly a glitch. All of us can’t have the same soulmate. And you read the contract. We're not allowed to contact them. That's literally the only stipulation. Don't open the app or with the thing. Just wear it and hold hands." He dropped his voice, "That's why I said this whole thing is stupid."

Jaebeom dragged a hand down his face. "I knew I should have made you room with me."

"Guys, chill out." BamBam looked up from his phone, patting Jackson's shoulder. "The solution is simple. We call the company, let them know that he responded by mistake. They should be able to send him a fake one to promote with. Then we won’t have to worry about her reaching out and Jack won’t be tempted to answer."

A chill ran down Jackson's spine. His chest hurt at the thought of severing the link he'd discovered. But never mind him, what would it do to you? Your words implied stress and heartache from the lack of responses. After getting a single response asking you to keep your device, he didn’t want to imagine the emotional damage from being cut off. Even if he wasn’t your soulmate, Jackson couldn’t just leave you in the dark without reason. You deserved to know the truth.

“Jackson!” Jaebeom shoved Jackson’s shoulder. “Aish, where’s your head? Listen to me.” He sat back against the seat. “No more messages. Okay? We’ll talk to our manager after the meet.” He turned toward the six other pairs of eyes on him. “So put it out of your minds for now. We focus on what’s immediately ahead of us. Then we can chew him out.”

There were grumbles of agreement, but Jackson’s mind was already back on you. His soulmate. Their soulmate. It’d be cowardly to just abandon you without giving you a proper explanation. Though his heart sunk down to his toes, he nodded to himself. It was the best, most honorable solution to the mess he’d created.

You were on a lunch break, munching on fries during a thirty-minute lunch break. The sun had just gone down and the evening rush was due to start soon. You had a nice supervisor who made a point to treat the employees well. You didn’t make it a habit to check the news. It was often too violent or depressing.

Yet, something compelled you to pull up the news tab.

Soompi, Koreaboo, Hallyu—All of them had GOT7’s pictures in the headlines. Article after article detailing how chaos had erupted when the groups’ SeoulMate devices went off during an event two weeks ago. The exact details differed from source to source, but the consensus was simple: their devices had been triggered without anyone at the event coming into contact with them. Many of the writers speculated it was a glitch. Tons of comments complained about how the group rushed off without an explanation or apology. The SeoulMate company promised their devices had been fixed and reset.

Fixed and reset.

A part of you deflated, and you didn’t understand why. Of course, they’d reset. It was obviously a mistake. No one had seven soulmates.

‘Except you,’ you thought. Two weeks ago? What were the odds of the same thing happening to them at the same time? But—you checked your device—you still had seven soulmates paired to you. Every time your device came back online, the pairs were still there. Silent, but there.

You continued to devour article after article, looking for something tell-tale to confirm your suspicion. You honestly didn’t need it, but still, after being ignored for so long, you wanted it spelled out for you. No misunderstanding. A quick check on Reddit and Tumblr gave you the theories and commentary you were looking for. It was a PR stunt to drive up sales. The whole thing was a scam anyway. The timing was too perfect.

But.

The panic on their faces is real. The security’s response was disjointed, sluggish, and actually hilarious. If it was planned, none of the people on stage were in on it. Considering the audience’s response, that was extremely dangerous. Would JYP really put its highest-grossing boy group in danger like that? (There were threads upon threads debating that.) JYP hadn’t issued a statement; SeoulMates did because they were handling PR. It could be a real glitch. Due to the crazy contract terms idols usually agreed to, was it even possible for them have a soulmate? There’d have to be restrictions.

It would explain why they didn’t respond. It would give away their identities. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were outright banned from contacting any matches.

So then, if your seven mystery pairs were GOT7, who answered your message? Who’d be bold enough to go against the rules? Could it be—

“_____!” A coworker poked his head into the room. “The rush is picking up. We need you.”

“Here I come.” You put your leftover food back in the bag it came in. You had about ten minutes left on your break but you doubt you’d see the rest of it before you clocked out for the night. On the bright side, you had something to occupy your mind until then.

Jackson waited for the last person in line, a woman, to come to him. Keeping his SeoulMate tilted so that she couldn't see it, he held her clammy hands. "Ready...?"

"Sheila," she trembled, and he gave her hands a squeeze.

"Okay, Sheila." Jackson gave her an enthusiastic smile. "Count with me." They counted slowly to ten. She wasn’t aware it was all for show. When they reached zero, and neither device had made a sound, the crowd groaned with disappointment. Sheila squeezed her eyes shut as her face turned red. She wasn't the first to cry in front of him, and he hated that she wouldn't be the last. There were fifteen more cities to go with an expected 1,500 more fans to greet. To lie to.

Though he wore his biggest grin as they waited for stagehands to clear the stage for their last performance, inside he was a bundle of nerves and doubt. He had a plan and a ty one at that. But he wasn't going to back out. His body went on autopilot as they danced to their song. The fans cheered and sang along, for which he was grateful. Though the higher-ups swore this whole campaign would bring the group more fans while simultaneously increasing the SeoulMate's profits, he worried it'd end badly.

With one last bow, the group filed offstage. They passed by the stagehands, turning over their mics and other equipment before heading to a room set aside for them. Their staff sprung into action, helping them clean up and change. Jackson's assigned stylist moved with purpose while the others chattered and joked around. With a quiet thanks, he slipped out of the room and went out into the night.

His fingers moved over the cold, smooth screen, pulling up the app. He didn't have much time, but it was now or never. He looked at your profile picture, his thumb caressing your smile. He bit his bottom lip and hit the call button. You should have been awake and off from work. As the line rang, a small smile curved his lips. He'd paid attention to when you sent messages. He wondered if you’d be impressed by that.

The ringing stopped, and a woman's voice cut through the silence. "Hello?"

He in air, not having thought about what he'd say. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "Never fear, your puppy's here!"

There was a beat of silence. "I'm sorry?"

He smacked his palm to his forehead and groaned. "Sorry, I didn't think—I couldn't think of anything to say—"

“…Wait. Who is this?” There was rustling on the other end, then what sounded like a door shutting. “How’d you get my number?”

“Ah, uh… From the SeoulMate app. We paired a while back. I messaged you this morning.”

You smacked your lips. “Prove it. What’s your user id?”

He understood the caution. He’d had to verify plenty of user IDs after the fiasco of an event weeks ago. People were presenting fake numbers in hopes of fooling them into accepting a pairing. “One second.” He pulled up the about tab on his SeoulMate and read his ID out to her. It didn’t occur to him until after he’d said the last number out loud just how much danger he could be putting himself—all of them, really—in. He didn’t know you. You were pissed at him. There was no telling what you could do.

You interrupted his thoughts when you whispered, "Wow, you called?”

He nodded, then winced when it occurred to him that you couldn't see it. "I owe you an explanation. I'd rather do it in person, but I'm in Miami right now."

"An apology." You deadpanned. His head ducked a little as he bit his lip, mulling his words over.

"Yes. I-I should have answered you sooner, but I didn't because I couldn't. I," he paused. If you knew about their promotions for the SeoulMate, you’d be able to figure out the situation if he said the wrong thing. "I'm working for the company."

"Oh, like a tester or something?" He soaked up the awe in your voice, hearing it become soft around the edges as your anger melted a bit.

“Or something,” he agreed easily. “I wanted to respond. I read all of your messages. I read them over and over. I put my responses in a memo, wishing I could send them. When—when I saw your messages last night, I panicked. I didn’t want you to stop sending messages.”

“Even though you left me hanging, waiting on a response?” Annoyance colored your words and the challenge in your tone made him in another gulp of air.

“______, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get in trouble.”

You went silent. “You saved all of your responses?”

“Yes!” His face heated up and he shut his eyes. “I did.”

“Send them to me. I want to read them. All of them.” Your words were firm. He liked that. You wouldn’t make this easy for him. It pleased him because he felt like he owed you the world. It was a scary feeling. He pulled up his memo pad, copied the entire text, and pasted it into a message in the SeoulMates app. “That was quick.”

“Because I'm truthful.” There was a click somewhere behind him, and he ducked behind a nearby car, peeking over the trunk. No one stepped outside. The door didn’t budge. He hoped he was mistaken and no one was actually there. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “There’s so much. Most of them are demands that I take better care of myself, but yeah.”

“Because you should! You work so often and at odd hours. How can you sleep well when your schedule is all over the place? And the food,” he groaned. “That stuff isn’t healthy, but I guess it’s better than you not being able to eat at all. I want to talk to your manager. Breaks should be mandatory, not ‘if there’s time.’ You only get one body—”

“Are you seriously lecturing me right now?” You asked, incredulous.

“Yes!” His voice echoed in the deserted parking lot. “Sorry. I just—I’m really passionate about being healthy and happy. That place doesn’t seem to help you in either of those areas.”

You went quiet again. “…Thank you for caring, I think. Are you like this all the time, though?”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. “No. I’m also bursting with energy, so I like to move around.” He thought about how long their dance practices could run. “I work out, so my body looks good.” Maybe you’d appreciate that bit of information. “Wait—are you taller than five-nine?”

“What? No, why?”

“Oh, thank god.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you like tall men? Oh, wait. People. Do you like tall people? I don’t want to assume your uality.”

“I’m—”

“No, no no no. I don’t want to invade your privacy like that. You can tell me when it comes up naturally. Forget I asked, okay?”

“Oh my god.” You laughed. The sound made him grin wider as butterflies took flight in his chest. “You’re all over the place. It’s cute.”

“So is your laugh. I’d like to hear it more often.” He confessed. The second the words were out of his mouth, his teeth slammed down on his tongue, and he let out a little yelp of pain. He couldn’t hear your laugh more often. He was supposed to tell you why you two couldn’t talk and wouldn’t talk again after this. But talking to you was effortless. Sure, he stumbled a little in the beginning, but you were open. Even if you hadn’t verbally forgiven him yet for your rocky start, he could just feel that you wouldn’t cut him out. Even if he asked you to. Both of his hands curled around the phone protectively, as if doing so could shield you from what lay ahead. “Hey, _____, can I ask you something?”

“Hm? Sure,” there was more rustling on your end. “What’s up?”

“What—what do you think about soulmates?”

“In general, or our situation?”

He bit his lip. “Both. No, no. Us. Wait, no. In general?”

You laughed again. “In general, I love the idea of having that special someone. I think the expectations of being or having one has gotten out of control, but yeah. I like it. I’d like to have someone like that. I don’t know your situation, but I’m single. If you aren’t, I understand if you’d like to be friends. You’re really easy to get along with. Oh, well—I mean, if your love is okay with it.” You swallowed, and your voice changed a little. “If not, I don’t like being a homewrecker. Too much drama, y’know?”

As you fumbled over your words, he wondered what you were doing right at that second. Were you pacing around? Gesturing with your hands? Did you bite your lip a lot, too? Damn, he wanted to see you. However, he knew if he did, there’d be no going back. In fact, the more he thought of it, the less he liked the idea. Not that he ever did. He was just less likely to commit to it. “Can I have your actual number?”

You stopped rambling to ask, “Um, sure. But can I ask why? The app is the best way to communicate, isn’t it?”

He bit his lip and peeked at the door again, then lowered his voice, “It is, but given our situation, they want to…take my SeoulMate. I don’t know if they will for sure. But if they do, I won’t have any of your info and won’t be able to contact you. They don’t want me to, but I really don’t want to let you go.” He paused then whispered, “I’ve waited my entire life for you. I wanna get to know you at least.”

There was a soft gasp before you spoke. “I’d—I’d love that. I was afraid—the way you phrased the question, I thought you didn’t—yes.” You recited numbers, and he quickly created a text message to send you. “I got it.”

The door to the building swung open, and Jaebeom stepped out, eyes scanning the area. Jackson ducked back down just before Jaebum’s head swiveled in his direction. Jackson cursed under his breath and scuttled further away from the door. “Jackson!” he bellowed.

“Ah, .” Jackson cupped a hand to the phone and whispered, “_____, I’m really sorry, but I need to get back to work. I’ll try to call you again, if not I’ll text you. Is that okay?”

“Sure! That’s perfect.” Your joy was tangible, even over the phone. It gave him an odd sense of satisfaction knowing he was the cause of it, a reverse of what he’d done before. “Thank you for calling. It means a lot to me.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.”

“Bye.”

He really didn’t want to say it. There was a real possibility this could be the only time he ever got to hear your voice. “Bye, _____.” The second the call disconnected, Jaebeom came around the car.

“What are you doing?” He sounded as pissed as he looked. Jackson hesitated a second too long. “Did you send another message?” Jackson looked away, down at his feet with a pout. He would never lie to Jaebeom, but he wouldn’t just give up his soulmate. Geez. Just one conversation with you and it already felt like it was you both versus the world. The intensity of his desire to protect your possible bond—friendship—relationship—whatever was scary. Crazy even. Was it a soulmate thing? Jaebeom hit Jackson’s shoulder. “Answer me.”

Jackson hung his head. “No.”

Jaebeom let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that. You scared—”

“I called her.”

Jaebeom froze for a second, then snatched off his hat and smacked the back of Jackson’s head with it. Jackson flinched but didn’t try to shield himself. He deserved it. “YAH! Why? Why would you do that when I just told you to not even send messages? Do you want to get in trouble? Get us all in trouble?”

“I just wanted to explain—”

“Explain? Yes, go in there and explain to the others why we’ll all have to pay back the advance we got for this contract. Why we’ll also have to pay legal fees for court because the company will sue us for breach of contract. Did you not see how much we’re liable for if even one of us screws this up? A ing billion won, Jackson! Not everyone has money to just throw away!” Jaebeom shoved his hands through his hair and turned away to take a calming breath but ended up groaning out loud and pulling his hair hard enough to hurt. “I’d expect this level of selfishness from Yugyeom or BamBam, but not you.”

“Hyung, please hear me out—”

“For ’s sake, we only have fifteen more stops! Why couldn’t you wait until after we were done?”

“She was gonna cut us off!” Jackson had to yell over Jaebeom, and he hated to do it. It was disrespectful, and Jackson had nothing but love and respect for their leader. Jaebum’s eyes widened, then blinked rapidly. Jackson stood up and began talking fast. “This whole thing may be just a paycheck to everyone else, but I care about what we’re doing to people. These things,” Jackson pointed to his wrist, “aren’t cheap! Our fans are spending their hard-earned money—the price of two concert tickets—for a chance to meet us and see if we’re their soulmate. A chance that doesn’t even really exist! Because one,” Jackson counted off on his fingers, “the odds are not in their favor when the database has almost a million users. Two, even if we are their soulmate, we can’t talk to or date them. Or even be seen with them! And three, wearing fake devices is on the table now, so it’s like we don’t exist for each other. Do you think they’d buy this thing if they knew it was a loss on their part? Do you think they’d still support us?”

Jaebeom’s head tipped back and his eyes closed.

“I may not be able to do right by our fans and be honest,” Jackson continued, “but I refuse to lie to and hurt her. She’s been sending messages for weeks, hyung. Just trying to say hi, trying to get to know us. Why is that so wrong? Why can’t we give her that much?”

“Jackson, you—” Jaebeom was just as frustrated as Jackson, but Jackson could see he wasn’t ready to see reason.

“I called her to explain because she deserves that much. She should know why we won’t talk to her. Why she’ll never meet us. Why she won’t get the happy ending everyone else is getting. I know I went against your words, and I apologize that I had to.” Jackson looked Jaebeom in the eyes. “But I’d do it again. And again. And again. I know I can be a little too trusting. I know I take unnecessary risks when it comes to people. But I’m not gonna be afraid to keep trying. ‘In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take.’” Jackson moved to Jaebeom’s side but didn’t turn towards him. “I’ll let them take my SeoulMate if they want to, but I won’t ignore her.”