She couldn’t sleep as she stared at the tiny numbers on her smartwatch, watching as the time ticked on and the darkness of the room now became more consuming. She replayed the entire conversation in her mind, critiquing every moment, every word that slipped out . Yes, she was happy, but there was an unmistakable, unnamable sadness that crept to her in the darkness. It was not the resentment for the normal life she lived nor was it that she could not have him then and there. It was something unknown to her, but it was nagging away at her all the same. She cursed herself not for being not supportive enough, but for being a fan. She was living every fangirl’s dream, but to her, it was turning to a nightmare. She didn’t want to be a fan, she didn’t want to hear all the little nothings he had to say. She wanted to see—feel—more of his heart like this, like at the party. She wanted to know more about the man behind the mask that she knew, he still kept close even through this call. She didn’t want to mention it, nor could she identify it wholly before, but he was still talking through a mask, through a filter, even while supposedly pouring his heart out to her. He said all the right things in all the right ways, still finding ways to sugarcoat his feelings and thus, hide himself more from her. Though she hadn’t known it at the time, with this epiphany, she was all too familiar with his tactics for she, too, did the same thing. Wear a happy face, let something slip, brush it off, walk away,, wait for the cycle to repeat. While she had to admit this was a bold step for him at all, she was now offended but more so, disappointed with herself. Clearly, he had this job long before meeting her, so it was something he was trained to do—hide. However, she had still not managed to break through to him enough for him to break his own walls and come clean to her. She was still a fan and with this role came all the pressures he couldn’t begin to fathom. Like him, she had to watch her words. Yet, unlike him, she had to work harder to prove that he could trust her, that she was worthy of his words, not his predetermined catchphrases and lines ripped from K-dramas. Like him, she had an image to protect. Yet unlike him, she didn’t want to seem boring, uninteresting, or worse—uninterested. Like him, she could not be who she wanted to be. Yet, he could not do so because it was his job. She couldn’t do so out of her own fear of being judged, scrutinized, disappointing. She didn’t have the same expertise crafting each response as he did and thus, she was deathly afraid of being just another girl, another fan, something to pass the time, something he felt he had to do. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to be the one to cause a stir. She had always been taught to stay in the middle, head down and mouth quiet for there were other things, other people to worry about. She didn’t want to be another thing for him to worry about. She wanted to be there for him not because of him. For, not a chore.

            Wait.

            As the time continued to slip by and the new day entered its second hour, she was struck once more with another though. She couldn’t possibly be a burden. He had chosen her. He had chosen to spend his time with her at the party. He had chosen to reach out to her. He had chosen to lay his heart on the line, wrapped in plastic as it was. He had made every choice and every choice led to her. She had to be more than a fan, more than a burden if he had done so, if he had chosen her. He wanted to know her as badly as she wanted to know him, but there were rules to the kind of love that was blooming. This, she could understand. This, she could handle. She could handle the sugarcoating and the rehearsed comments if it meant that she would have him, more importantly, if it meant that she had come across as human, as real. While it was undisputable that all of this, the concert, the meet and greet, the party, this was real, it didn’t feel real. Yes, she had met him. Yes, she had taken care of him. Yes, she had just chatted with him. Yet, to her, she had been waiting with bated breath for the curtain to fall, for the dream to be over, to wake up in the darkness as she was sitting in now. Yet, this thought, this one ounce of comfort kept her going. This had been real. His choice was real. She had succeeded in bearing her soul enough for him to slowly but surely do the same. Now, she could rest easy knowing for certain this was no dream. She only hoped she had enough time between now and work to process what good was left of her emotions.

            The next day, she was more productive than ever. While no one on her team could ever dispute her productivity and dedication to her job, today, she was particularly ahead of the tasks before her almost as if the faster she did them, the faster time would pass and the faster she would go home. She greeted every customer with a smile, even the ones who couldn’t tell a latte from a cappuccino. She didn’t mumble under her breath when her incompetent coworkers stumbled in late, likely hungover from one of their various parties the night before. She didn’t mind the radiant Southern California heat beating down even though it would be autumn anywhere else in the world. This was living in her normal life, the normal life she could enjoy and talk about with Seungmin. She had found the beauty in the little things, making herself smile throughout the day. Though her coworkers had incessantly asked her what the overly cheerful attitude was about, upon getting no response, they chalked it up to her finally cracking and slipping into autopilot customer service mode. Anything to make the slow Monday go by faster, they supposed.

            “Hey, Talia, your mom’s here,” her manager, Dev, called upon seeing Alex sauntering to the front of the store. Though Talia tended to dally, finishing up the rest of her tasks for the day whenever Alex came to pick her up, she nearly bolted out the door, too quickly to even crack a quip at Dev.

            “Well, hey there to you, too,” Alex greeted her though she ran past her and scurried to the familiar red Prius sitting front and center in front of the shop. “Are you late to Yogurtland?” she asked, quickly scanning the QR code for parking validation before joining her in the car and strapping in. “You could always just tell them something big came up at the other job, so you don’t have to rush it there to clock in,” she suggested, quickly reversing out of the spot and nearly flying out of the parking lot for the sake of her friend. Talia’s silence was confounding, yet telling. “So, are you going to say what’s up?” she probed, easing up on the gas pedal once she had realized they weren’t headed to Talia’s other job. “The last time I saw you this quiet but this elated was at the last Ateez concert. Took your breath and your words away, but cmon, what’s the tea?” she continued. “I swear, I will kidnap you to Café 101 and force it out of you since you don’t have work today,” she threatened halfheartedly, though she was also mulling through the potential possibilities. Only one viable one came to mind, but she would let Talia divulge the details as she wished.

            “So, Seungmin and I talked last night. He called me Princess—no, Angel—Cheonsa, I think? And all we did was stay up talking about anything and everything, but I did it. I did the thing. Like, he really thinks of me as something more than just a friend, more than a fan. It’s like alright, not alright because for a second there, I was so scared that he would get bored of me, that he would judge me, that I was just wasting his time, but last night, he showed me that I wasn’t. He showed me that he really cares enough to be honest with me and I don’t know what it was about it, but I didn’t want to let go. I could barely sleep, but what else is new. How could I sleep if I knew that he wasn’t sleeping? That boy really needs to take a rest and of course, I told him that, but did he listen to me? Probably not? It was also the middle of the day over there or something, so I get it. He has a job to do, but the fact that he wanted to talk with me and just be so open and honest, I-I didn’t think he would do it. I didn’t think that he could,” she rambled, though by now, Alex, with her own gibberish manner of speaking, was used to it and pulled out the most important parts. She giggled at her friend’s excitement, immediately reminiscing about the chat they had after the snapshots with them.

            “And how did you make out?” Alex cooed curiously, though, judging by her reaction, she likely hadn’t said too much. She was right.

            “I told him the basics, like I work at the shop and honestly, just thanking him for what he did and his time. It was such a good time to see them, especially at the second concert. I didn’t say too much because I didn’t know what to say. This was the first time we’ve talked face to face since the party—” she began, though her words were slower as she began to truly process and reflect on the interaction. Beyond that, she had already expressed how excited she was and now, she wanted to gauge Alex’s reaction. Though the thought had not occurred to her the night before, she still wondered where Alex stood—or wanted to stand—in the grand scheme of things. She wanted to ensure that Alex had not made her a burden, that Seungmin really wanted to talk to her, didn’t feel pressured to. Though she knew regardless, Alex only wanted the best for her and she should be thankful for her relaying her number to him, that night, the party kept creeping back into her mind. She hadn’t known wat Alex knew and she knew Alex would never tell, but the curiosities were moun