The room was as dark as an underground cavern. Heavy curtains blocked out all outside light. The small MacBook cast an eerie blue light over the young woman camped out on the floor in front of it. The walls were covered with posters and pictures of various sizes, all of Jackson. Even the blanket wrapped around her shoulders had his face on it. This was her home, her sanctuary.

Frantic screams filled the room, only to stop and rewind, playing again. Over and over. The same clip.

The moment GOT7’s SeoulMates went off.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, noting every visible face as she searched for any signs of recognition or glee. There was none in that clip. Bomi quickly closed it and opened up a new one from a different uploader. An entirely different section and angle of the crowd. She’d dedicated countless hours to finding evidence, anything that pointed her toward the truth. Somewhere in the hundreds of fan-cams from the event would be the truth.

She swore she’d find it. And fix it.

Two days later, the guys were in Nashville. The meet had gone smoothly, ending with tears and sighs of disappointment. Jackson had been on edge, waking up each day with apprehension, knowing that it’d be the day they’d try to take his soulmate away. He’d gone so far as to memorize your number just in case they decided to wipe his phone as well. Jaebeom still seemed pissed but hadn’t stopped talking to him. It was a good sign. Maybe his words had gotten through to Jaebeom. Maybe.

After a few hours of sightseeing, the group went back to their hotel and ordered room service. They goofed around until Mark suggested they head to bed. They had an early flight to Chicago with another SeoulMate promo just before lunch.

Almost an hour later, Jackson was in bed, staring at the ceiling. Yugyeom’s snores punctuated the soft hum of the air conditioner, drawing Jackson’s attention for a bit. Though he hadn’t been able to call you, you’d had fantastic conversations by text message. You had a great sense of humor. Or, if you found any of his attempts to be funny bad, you didn’t let on. He liked that about you. You were kind and considerate, knew how to take a joke, and occasionally dish it out. You didn’t mind his flirty nature either. And when he was serious, you weren’t put off or concerned. In fact, he was as comfortable with you as he was with the guys.

He wondered what you looked like when you slept. Did you snore? Though it was late, you could’ve been awake. He wanted to call you. He had the opportunity. Yugyeom usually slept like the dead, so there was a reasonable amount of privacy. He picked up his iPhone from the nightstand between the hotel beds and tapped through the prompts.

The phone rang four times before your soft voice filled his ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, _____.” He glanced at Yugyeom before rolling over to face the windows. He could see the night sky through a sliver of space between the curtains. They were high enough that the lights below didn’t disrupt his view of the stars. “I’m sorry I took so long to call you back. And for calling so late. I wanted to catch you before you went to sleep.”

“How did you know I was in bed?” Fabric rustled as you got comfortable. “You’re not spying on me, are you?”

His cheeks burned, and he shut his eyes tight. “I, uh, I paid attention to the times of your messages. The last ones come about this hour.”

“But you said you’re traveling.” Your teasing tone gave way to one of curiosity. “Wouldn’t the change in time zone throw you off?”

“I use a converter to figure out the time.” He toyed with his hair. It was the truth. He’d wanted to be able to read your messages as soon as they were sent, so he’d had to figure out your time zone. He’d had to make sure that the others wouldn’t hear the notifications and ask questions, especially their managers.

“You know, I gotta admire your level of dedication.” You sounded impressed. “It almost makes up for everything else.”

“So, I did a good job? It’s okay?” He bit his lip.

“Of course! It’s flattering and shows you care.” Your words chased away his worries of coming off too eagerly. “So you were in Florida the last time we spoke. Where in the world are you now?”

“Tennessee.” He answered promptly.

“It must be nice to travel. I’ve never been outside of Texas.” He didn’t miss the longing in your words. He traveled so much now, he’d lost the sense of wonder and adventure it used to give him. You’d enjoy traveling with them. Wait. You said—

“Texas?” Jackson sat up. “You live in Texas. I’ll be in Texas for the weekend.”

“Really? Which city?”

“Dallas.”

“Get. Out. I live in Dallas!” Your excitement was contagious.

His heart skipped a beat. Destiny had a funny way of working out sometimes. “Can we meet up somewhere? I know it’s sudden, but I don’t know if another chance like this will happen in the future.”

“Oh, it’s—I mean—I’d like to meet you, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon. You seem nice enough—”

“Okay, okay.” So much for not coming off too eager. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “We can come back to this. We have a few days.”

“I mean, you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

Jackson in air. He hadn’t. In fact, he’d been purposefully avoiding it. If his voice didn’t give him away, his name would. He worried his lip. You’d shown a lot of restraint to keep from bringing it up until now. If he was serious about meeting you, then he knew he’d have to spill the beans sooner rather than later. He exhaled shakily, “Jackson.”

You chuckled and said, “…Thank you, Jackson. You’re really sweet.” Your reaction, or lack thereof, soothed his nerves a little.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue gave him chills, the good kind. “I’ve heard that a lot before, but it never meant as much as it does now.”

“Like, cavity-inducing sweet.”

He covered his mouth and laughed, not wanting to wake Yugyeom. “Is it too much? I can stop if it’s too much.”

“No, no. I-I like it. It feels real, y’know? Like I can tell you’re not trying too hard. This isn’t a front or anything, but the real you. So I don’t mind. Anyone else, I might shut them down, but you? You’re good.” You let out a dreamy sigh. “I’m sleepy now.”

“Hm, you should go to sleep. I don’t want to let you go, but I have an early morning, anyway.” Jackson pouted.

“If you didn’t have to get up, what would you do?”

“Stay on the phone with you until we both fell asleep.”

“Do you know how high the phone bill would be? I’d go into debt, Jackson.”

“I’d pay the bill for you.” He was serious, and he hoped you realized that.

“I wouldn’t let you.” You countered, “If I talk until I fall asleep, then it’s worth it. I don’t do that often.”

“That’s best friend stuff.” Jackson smiled at the thought. “Best friends stay on the phone for hours, then struggle to pay the bill together.”

You laughed, “True. So we’re best friends now?”

“Are you kidding me? I’d give you a kidney if you needed it.” He flopped back on the bed. “At the rate you’re going, you might need it. I’ll keep it on reserve, just in case. Drink more water, please.”

“Oh, no—”

“I’m serious, _____! And eat more fruits and vegetables.” He hated to nag, but your health mattered that much to him. He knew from experience a happy body contributed to a healthy mind. With the stress of work, he wanted you to be as happy as you could be. “Please?”

“If it matters that much to you, I’ll try to eat better. More water and fruits and veggies.”

“Then I’ll introduce you to organic foods.”

“Jackson!”

“Okay, okay. We’ll take it slow. Month by month.”

“Thank you. And I’ll think about meeting up when you come to Dallas.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re doing those things for me. I wanna do something for you. Balance, you know? I don’t want to scare you off with nutrition and health lectures.”

“Well, meeting you would be for me as much as it is for you.”

“Okay, but the healthy stuff?”

“Um,” you paused, and he waited. “Can you send me a picture of you? I noticed you don’t have a profile pic for the app. I’d… I want to know what my soulmate looks like.”

Jackson froze at your words. They weren’t allowed to update their profiles, so he hadn’t bothered. He was more than willing to send you a picture. There were tons of selfies in his camera reel. But would you recognize him? So far, you hadn’t mentioned being a fan of Kpop. Again, he faced the painful truth—if he wanted to meet you, he’d have to take a flying leap of faith and tell the truth. It’d be lying if he kept it from you. You’d likely be upset. “Okay, gimme a second.” He scrolled through the pictures and settled for one he’d taken when they were in Buenos Aires last month. It was well lit and taken before he’d been attacked by makeup artists and stylists. It was closest to how he looked at the moment. He held his breath as he sent the image to you.

There was a brief silence before he heard rustling on her end. “Ooh! I got it.” Another pause. “I-I wasn’t sure, but I hoped I was right.”

“About?”

“You. When we first talked and you mentioned ‘they’ wanted to reset your SeoulMate. I mean, GOT7’s all over the news, especially after the riot at the event.” You hesitated before continuing. “I hoped you were the one who’d fight for me.”

“Why me?”

“No idea, honestly. It was a feeling at first, then it became a wish, a plea.” He didn’t miss the way loneliness crept into your voice before you shook it off. “Anyway! Back to the picture. You weren’t kidding about working out.”

“You thought I wasn't honest?” he asked, half amused and hurt.

“I mean, well yeah. You know guys like to brag. Or at least the ones I’m usually around do. For them, going to the gym means maybe ten reps with weights, then granny walking on a treadmill for five minutes before passing out in a bowl of nachos.”

“Please cease contact with anyone who does that,” he said with a straight face, voice devoid of emotion.

You laughed hard, bringing a smile to his face again. “Okay, goodnight Jackson.”

“I’m serious! I can’t coach you back to good health if you’re exposed to people who drown in cheese. Please. That’s a terrible—if not terrifying—influence on you. If they try to talk to you, sprinkle coconut water on them and run away in the name of clear skin.”

He swore he heard you snort in between giggles. “Goodnight, Jackson!”

He sighed and lowered his voice, “Goodnight, _____.”

Jackson held the phone to his ear until the phone beeped signaling the end of the call. He rolled over onto his back with a goofy grin on his face. He finally felt tired and closed his eyes, ready to embrace sleep.

Then Yugyeom spoke quietly, “Oh, how I hope you’re prepared to buy my silence.”

Yugyeom knew he was taking advantage of the situation, but as he munched on the crispy fried chicken skin, it didn’t seem like a bad thing. He didn’t know where Jackson got the chicken from, but it was delicious. The perfect combination of crispy and juicy. The tastiest blackmail ever. Hands down. Chef’s kiss.

“So…?” Jackson fidgeted nervously, barely touching his own food and drink.

For a second, Yugyeom was at a loss. “Hm? Oh! Your secret’s safe with me and my chicken.” He held up a drumstick with triumph. He never intended to tell, but when Jackson started offering payment for silence, well… Jackson let out a sigh of relief and sagged in his chair. Yugyeom wiped the grease from his lips with a napkin. “I do have one question, though.”

Jackson looked at him wearily. “Yeah?”

“How do you know you can trust her?” He put his chicken down with care. “You’ve never met her. What if Jinyoung’s right about her?”

Jackson went silent with a frown as he took his time to answer. “Truthfully, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have in my gut that I can’t bring myself to ignore. It’s the same as when I first got the idea to pursue music, to actually try it out. Like then, I had so much to lose and everyone was against it. Why jeopardize something that’s sure and reliable for something that, to them, is guaranteed to blow up in my face?” He huffed out a breath. “And look where I am now.”

Yugyeom nodded and picked up his food again, not wanting it to get cold. “And how do you feel about her? It’s been, what, three days since you started talking to her, right?”

Jackson nodded as he fished his phone from his pocket. “It’s like I’ve known her forever. Talking to her is effortless. I don’t have to pretend to be happy because she sees right through me. Every time. She lets me vent about the events and management. She agrees it's ed up and suggested I come up with a way to repay our fans if it really bothers me. Yug, I know physically I haven’t known her long, but if this soulmate stuff is the real deal, then she has to be it for me.”

Yugyeom sipped his soda. “But what if the company fixes the issue, and she’s paired with someone else?” ‘Like me,’ he nearly added. “What will you do if you go through the trouble and anger everyone just for her to walk away in the end?”

Hurt flickered in Jackson’s eyes. “It’s her choice. The same could happen with me, you know. Right now, she’s become a very dear friend, at the least. That’s what I care about. Just getting a chance to meet her in person, making this whole thing feel worth the pain it’s causing. That’s all.”

Yugyeom wouldn’t admit that he felt the same. He recalled the thrill, the unspeakable relief he felt upon seeing those two words flash on his device. Before this, he had very different ideals about how he’d meet his soulmate. Sharing her with six other people, no matter how close they were, wasn’t what he had in mind. And the more he listened to Jinyoung and Mark debate the legitimacy of their pairing, the less he believed in the impossible. Though he was dangerously close to giving up on you being his soulmate, there was no reason he couldn’t be civil like Jackson. Make the pain worth it.

“You should ask her to meet up tomorrow.” Yugyeom blurted out the words. “I’d like to meet her, too.”

Jackson couldn’t mask his surprise. “You don’t think it’d be too pushy of me?”

Yugyeom shook his head. “You’ve given her some space about it, but you have to make sure she understands it’s important to you.”

Jackson nodded as he unlocked his phone. “Should I call or text her?”

Yugyeom went back to his food. “Maybe text her first? That way, you’re not putting her on the spot.”

“Right, right.” A sly smirk teased Jackson’s lips and Yugyeom decided then that he’d support Jackson, no matter what. A true smile that wasn’t caused by any of them or their fans. Was it really so bad to just…hope for something different, better? No. It shouldn’t be.

True to his word, Jackson didn’t bring up the meet until the day before. Fortunately, there had been a shift in schedules at work so you had the day off. When he texted you the invite and location, you were overcome with last-minute doubts. What if it was a prank? Someone could be impersonating him. Didn’t celebs hire impersonators to shake the media or crazy fans? And what about the rest of the group? What if—?

“_____, just go.” Mama put the plate she’d been scrubbing back in the sink and turned to you with her hands on her hips. "It’s a public place.”

“But what if he sees me and changes his mind?” You pouted. Sometimes it was hard being the daughter of an idealist. “What if he’s not okay with my ethnicity?”

Mama scrunched up her face, then let out an annoyed sigh. “Girl, you’re overthinking this. Everything you’ve told me about him doesn’t add up to a guy who cares about race.”

You shook your head and got up, carrying your empty plate over. “I know, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t. I just…you never know, right? Everything I think I know could be wrong.”

“Understandable, but this guy is your soulmate. You talk about him as if you grew up with him. What if this is the only chance you get to meet him? Are you really gonna throw it away?” She leaned over and looked you in the eyes. "Really?”

You closed your eyes, unable to withstand the weight of her gaze. “I just—Okay, I’m scared. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he changes his mind and goes back to ignoring me? What if he isn’t who he says he is? I…” You looked down at your hands and realized you were peeling the polish off again. Dammit. You’d worked hard to make it look professional. “I really like him. He’s a great listener and funny and smart and compassionate. I don’t want to lose his friendship.”

“_____,” Mama tutted, dried her hands on a dishtowel, then reached for your face. The scent of clean citrus enveloped you as her thumbs your cheeks. “Baby, there are times when you have to take a leap of faith. You have to have the courage to do something new. Any other time, I’d be on the same page as you. Trying to talk you out of it. But this? It’s worth a shot. I’m willing to bet Jackson is worth the risk.”

You met her eyes. “What if you’re wrong?”

“What if I’m right?” She countered. In addition to being optimistic, Mama was the wisest person you knew. An old soul who had moments that bordered on premonition. Her intuition was hardly ever wrong. In your heart, you knew she was right. Jackson worked hard to keep in touch after your first phone call. He’d been consistent. Seeing that she was serious about you giving Jackson a chance, you gave in.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll go, but if anything happens to me, I want compensation with dessert.” You pouted. She let you go with a peal of laughter and pointed at you as she backed away, returning to the sink.

“Deal.” She grinned as she clapped her hands and wiggled her hips. “Now go put on something cute!“

You rolled your eyes and left the kitchen.

Something cute? You yanked tops and bottoms out of your closet, assembling and rearranging them to create something you thought Jackson might see as cute. As you held up a floral top to your body in the mirror behind your bedroom door, you realized something. Why were you trying to impress him? He wouldn’t care about how you looked. He just wanted you to show up. You could be yourself around him. You put most of the clothes back in the closet and dresser, opting for a simple t-shirt and jeans combo with your favorite pair of shoes. You dressed to impress yourself and had a feeling he’d be impressed with that. You fussed with your hair and did your basic makeup routine. In the end, you liked how you looked.

After grabbing your purse and keys, you poked your head into the kitchen. "Bye, Ma. I’m heading out.”

She turned around, saw your outfit, and grinned. “He’s gonna love it.”

“Bye, Ma.” You fought a smile and left.

The Kay Bailey Hutchison Convention Center was beautiful. Then again, a lot of the buildings in Downtown Dallas were. It was right around the corner from the Omni Hotel, a building laced with LED lights that lit up the skyline at night. As pretty as it was, parking was a . A royal one. Every parking garage within two miles of the convention center was filled. People were walking for nearly a mile just to get back to the building.

Luckily, you’d checked out the other events the center was hosting and opted to take the train and a bus. Altogether, it probably cost the same as parking, but you didn’t have to worry about your car getting stolen or broken into. You slipped on the lanyard Jackson had sent you in the mail “just in case.” VIP. The badge was about the same size as your little android phone. It even had Jackson’s signature on it.

You got through security and were directed to one of the ballrooms. The lobby was buzzing with activity. The crowd was mostly female, all milling around, waiting for the event to begin. Seeing the banners all over the place, advertising the SeoulMate Hi-Touch event with GOT7. You in a breath upon seeing Jackson’s poster. This was real. It was actually happening. Butterflies took flight in the pit of your stomach as you pushed through the crowd to the closed doors that matched the number on your badge.

Your fears from before briefly surfaced again. What if he changed his mind?

One of the banners with the whole group on it caught your attention. You’d only spoken to Jackson, but the rest of the guys were here, too. What did they think of this, of you? What was their reason for staying silent when Jackson hadn’t? Did they approve? Were they against it? Did they support him? Did they even want to see you?

‘I’ve waited my entire life for you.’

You paused. Something told you he’d meant that no matter what. Whatever the others’ reasons for not responding to you didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. You weren’t here for any of them. Just Jackson. Because he wanted you there, wanted to see you. If you kept that in mind, things would be okay. This had to be okay. Despite how the situation looked, you wanted to meet the guy the voice belonged to, see the face behind the words you got through text messages.

You took a deep breath and stepped up to the doors. Two men dressed in black held their arms up to stop you, and you pulled the badge out. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t have to speak. One of the guys lifted the badge up to his face, reading Jackson’s signature. “Oh, it’s her.” He smirked and nodded to his partner, who lowered his arm and opened one of the doors enough for you to pass through. The one holding your badge nodded his head in the direction of the door. “You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You nodded your head in thanks and passed through the door into a new world.

The room wasn’t as big as the lobby, but still larger than you’d expected. Chairs were lined up in rows around a stage that lined one of the walls. The stage itself was a wonder. LED lights illuminated it in various hues. Another large banner served as the backdrop to the tables and chairs lined up in a row. The Jackson you’d pictured sending you messages and calling you stared back at you with a smile you’d only imagined seeing until now. The butterflies went ballistic. You felt nauseous for a moment and forced yourself to take a few deep breaths.

This was real. It was happening.

A door opened to the left of the stage and a guy with dark hair walked in. You recognized him immediately. Jinyoung. You opened your mouth to greet him, but his glare stole your breath away. Another guy stepped in behind him. Jaebeom. Jinyoung turned to him. They spoke rapidly in Korean while looking at you suspiciously. You stood there, internally freaking out because here they were, in the flesh. It was simultaneously surreal, yet grounding.

Then you noticed their tone. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t happy. Jinyoung turned back to you and said, “Why did they let you in? No one’s allowed in yet.”

You held up your badge. “I was invited.”

He eyed the badge but didn’t come closer to inspect it. “No one invited you. You’re just saying that. I bet you stole that from the staff.” He turned to Jaebeom and said something else. He gestured at you a few times, and you got the impression he wanted back up. Your eyes met Jaebeom’s. He looked awkward, somewhere between curious and upset. His response was low and Jinyoung didn’t like it.

“Look,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender. “Even I’m unsure about this, but I got a badge in the mail. It’s signed by Jackson. The security guys even recognized it and let me in.”

“You must have paid them off. You saesangs are shameless. Don’t you have a job? Something better to do than pester us like this?” Jinyoung hissed. While you normally found his angry old woman trait endearing, having it aimed at you changed your perception. His words stung, but you forced yourself to remember he didn’t know who you were.

“Jinyoung, wait—” Jaebeom put a hand on his friend’s shoulder but was shrugged off.

“You have the wrong impression of me.” You took a step forward, and he took a step back. Fear flickered across his face before a hard sneer settled in its place. “Yes, I’m a fan, but that’s not why I’m here. I just want to see Jackson.”

“Jackson?” Recognition dawned on their faces, but they didn’t care to share the knowledge with you. Of course, they wouldn’t.

“Yes. Him. I’ve said his name a few times now. So where is he?” You looked behind them at the door they’d come through. “Just wanna say hi and I’ll be on my way.”

“You’re wasting your time.” Jinyoung looked you in the eyes. “You won’t get anything from him. He made a mistake in reaching out to you. Now you’re here trying to profit from it. Leave Jackson alone.”

“What?” You blinked a few times as his words sunk in. You went out of your way to grant Jackson this wish and you were beginning to feel like you shouldn’t have bothered. You should have told him to shove it when he first called. But, no. You had to be all-forgiving and kind and . And where did that get you? Nowhere. You only wanted to meet your soulmate. You didn’t expect much more than that. You didn’t deserve the accusations and ing attitude.

So, you snapped.

“Okay, you know what? you.” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “ you and the high horse you rode in on. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. So don’t assume you know what I want. I wouldn’t give a if he was the richest man on Earth or homeless with two cents to his ing name. I came here for Jackson, whoever the that may be. Whoever calls me at night to let me rant about my day. The guy who lectures me for eating ty fast food and wants me to drink gallons of water like I’m the little ing mermaid. Okay? So shove all of that crazy gold-digging fan up yours and use the weight to float back down to Earth.” You spun on your heel, pulling the lanyard from around your neck and tossing it on the ground as you headed for the door. “ing .”

And you made sure the door slammed shut behind you.