“Ayo, who’s that calling you on Kakao right now?” Alex mumbled as she defeatedly placed her phone, that was glued to her face down after a particularly difficult song on Superstar. However, with the Taylor Swift movie on Fay’s big screen TV, she was the one of the four of the girls paying the most attention to her surroundings. “I think you’d better answer it~” she chimed as the realization set in. “Lylah~” she sing-songed in just the right off-key tone that made the three of them whip to look at her before begrudgingly pausing the movie. She shrugged and glanced down at the still ringing phone, mischievous smile creeping onto her face before she rattled off a text to the group chat without Lylah. Before Lylah could reach for the phone, Fay and Talia had peeked at the message, then back at Lylah’s phone, back to Alex, and nodded.

            “You know, I really think that you should answer. It’s been a long time since we had any food, so I think I want Alex to take me to Jack in the Box. Fay, you want anything?” Talia suggested her voice not betraying a single ounce of her true intention.

            “Yes, please!” Fay chirped, “You know the usual and definitely no tomatoes, please. I have to walk Rocky anyway, so I’ll be out for a bit,” she insisted, also trying her best to keep her smile at bay. “You know where everything is if there’s a problem. Take whatever you want from the fridge and Mama Torres is here if you need anything else. I won’t be gone long,” she redirected to Lylah who looked at the three of them with a knowing glare. They had been friends for too long for her to not know something was up. She refused to look at her phone, but she knew that she was in the Golden Child universe now and there was certainly mischief to be had. She simply didn’t expect it to be in such a princely form. She nodded lazily and shooed the three of them away, keen to their antics, but unprepared for the antics of the gentleman that awaited her.

            “Yeobosaeyo?” she chimed once the three of them had fled and she had accepted the call. The camera was pointed at the ceiling, the glaring white lights of what seemed to be either a classroom or a dance room giving her a minor headache. She expected Jangjun to jump scare her and her fight or fight response to immediately activate though there was nothing she could do from halfway around the world. She vouched that, if he did pull some shenanigans like that, the next concert, she would certainly be hauled away by security for fighting him on sight during the fansign. She debated ending the call. Certainly, it had to be an accident. She had hardly introduced herself a few days ago to both the boys and the Golden Child lore and world. She was no Alex, no Fay, no Talia with secret chats and Y/N moments. She was just Lylah, a budding Goldenness who still got Jibeom and Bomin confused, but was here for the ride and free seratonin regardless. She felt something about the boys that was indescribable, applicable to only one other group before them, a genuineness that seemed to be lacking in the K-pop world that she had seen change and morph over the last few years. Golden Child was a group of men, to be sure, but they had a boyish, youthful charm that complimented their genuine warmth, affection, and appreciation they had for their fans. Sometimes, Lylah envied Alex, Fay, and Talia for how close they had grown with the Golden Child boys, not because they were idols, but because they were human, the types of humans that she longed for in her turbulent and all too small friend group. Golden Child, from the stories she had heard and from the glimpse she had been granted of them the other day, were the types of men she wished she had had in her life rather than the emotionally unavailable, toxic, and oftentimes abusive and unrelenting men she had come to know, unfortunately, come to expect. Though she did not know the extent to how close the others, especially Talia, were with them, she already had a mental image of them in her head, one that wasn’t delusional, but one that was backed by secondhand personal experience, and image that she wanted to submerse herself in for herself. Now was her chance.

            “Give me a moment! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Everyone, take a break,” she heard someone boom seemingly from the other side of the room before the declaration was followed by loud cackling and snarky remarks, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She cursed herself for not staying consistent with her Korean skills, but she hoped that whoever picked up the phone would at least meet her halfway. She promised she would return wholeheartedly to the endeavor if whom she was waiting for was the image in her head. Though she had only heard his voice for all of five minutes, his voice was a melody, hauntingly soft but tantalizingly warm. It was not a y voice per se, but it carried with it a care and comfort that had long since been denied to her by both others and herself. She tried to match the yell to his voice, but it didn’t quite fit right, so she sat on the edge of Fay’s couch anxiously as she heard footsteps approaching.

            “Hello?” his silken voice greeted her as he peered over his phone that was still on the floor before squatting to pick it up.  He had a glowingly soft smile before holding the phone close to his chest and standing up straight. He was a professional in all things fanservice, but this was no act. “Hi, sorry about that,” he continued brushing his hair back as he adjusted the camera to face him. “When Jangjun said he would call you if I didn’t get the move right, I thought he was kidding, but I should have known better. Nothing’s changed… and I like that,” he admitted shaking his head halfheartedly before returning his seemingly longing gaze to you. “But since you’re here and you waited, how are you? I’m not bothering you, am I?” he inquired, his voice confident and captivating though his eyes held a potential disappointment if you decided to end the call or if he was bothering you.

            “I don’t know what you were expecting. I still don’t know much about you, but all I know is that Jangjun fellow is an idiot,” she chuckled, “No offense!” she corrected herself, realizing that part of Daeyeol’s charm was his undying love—and patience—for s. He had the patience of a saint, the face of an angel, and the sacrifice of a martyr, all of which drew her to him like a moth to a flame. He was the perfect image of an exhausted dad with comedic relief and an attitude to match, something she was so inexplicably attracted to that it was no wonder she was able to continue this conversation with him, let alone banter with him. Normally, any male outside of her family or previous friend group, she would hardly converse with, not because they were an affront to her existence, but because they were usually low value or uninteresting to her, not because she deemed herself superior to others, but because she simply had other things on her mind. First, was college and her linguistics degree. She had wanted so badly to teach English as a foreign language in another country, preferably Korea, anything to use her degree and to travel the world outside of the states. Then, was her social life. Aside from her other friend group and Sam, she had a close-knit group of friends that cared and supported her every step of the way. Though Alex was a nonbinary femme and her friend Chris was trans, this was as close to other men that she interacted with. She had all the energy and love she needed in her small friend group and no amount of social media and lies about living the good life of partying and socializing would dissuade her. Yet, in his eyes, she noticed that she had been missing something, not because her life was incomplete, but rather because it could always use improvement. He would unashamedly agree.

            “None taken. The boy is dense, but even he knows he’s a real pain in the sometimes. Thank goodness the company pays for meditation and other mental health classes. It keeps us in shape, so I’m grateful,” he smirked with a shrug.

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought princes were supposed to mind their language,” she tsked lightheartedly, knowing full well that though was not nearly as filthy as Alex’s, she was no saint of words or t