“And what on earth made you do that? Do you know how much trouble you just put us in?” Donghyun scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stared at the absentminded members still staring at the phone screen, partially in shock, partially emboldened.

            “Yeah, do you really think that was the best idea? We get it, we get it, you’re in love with one of them, but you just put the whole group at stake! What will happen when she texts back?” Jaehyun huffed. “I don’t want to have to break a Goldenness’ heart, but if it comes down to it, I don’t want any miscommunications or misunderstandings, so I can talk to her,” he added, heart heavy.  

            So, how do I know this is a real account? Shouldn’t you be on Pocketdols or Weverse or something? Sounds more professional, right? Alex smirked sadly as she flopped onto her bed. On one hand, she wanted to believe this was true, that she had been chosen, that they had read through the letters and that what he had said that night was true. Yet, she had done her time being the delusional fan and wanted so badly to see what this impostor would say in rebuttal. She didn’t have anything else to do for the night, so she could spend her nights playing mind games with strangers. That would be better than the other way around—or worse, her playing mind games with herself and trying to convince herself of something that could never be.

            “Well, she’s smarter than we thought. At least we know that this isn’t the type of girl to go sell our information on the internet,” Y sighed, relieved. He had to admit, he had his qualms about this idea, but the pleading eyes of Joochan and Seungmin—as well as their incessant requests and promises of safety and professionalism—were enough for him to set aside his hesitation. Jangjun’s humor also helped him feel more at ease with the idea. Yet, as acting leader, he was still concerned that, if any of this fell apart, it would be on his head while his heart would be in her hands. He was at least relieved to know that she was as cautious as he was. He should have known with how hesitant she had been to touch him at the snapshot session, as if she respected his space more than she thought about how much that simple picture had cost her. The least he could do was give her a chance. He—they—were human to her and he was curious to learn more about her own humanity.

            That’s the point. Too many people look at that one. Did you really think that we don’t have our secret accounts? We are human, after all. We get bored, too. She couldn’t stop herself from springing up in bed in time to think her actions through. What was she getting so worked up over? There was a human on the other side of the screen, this she knew, but it was not the human that she wanted, she figured. Yet, they had quoted her letter down to the last sentence. It was either them or one of the staff at the venue. She scoffed, guessing it was the one woman who was notorious for rummaging through fan letters and gifts for the performers. She had to admit, if it was that staff member, she was either a psychopath for playing this trick on her so well or that she, too, was bored.

            “I hate to put it this way, but if this whole thing doesn’t work out, I’m sure we could play it off as a game. It’s obvious she wouldn’t put us at risk by putting this all over social media or whatever, so if we ghosted her, it wouldn’t be the end of the world,” Donghyun shrugged, sorting through all the ways this could go right or wrong.

            “But we shouldn’t be playing anyone like it’s a game!” Seungmin snapped back with a ferocity that scared even his best friend, Tag, who cautiously tried consoling him.

            “We’re not saying that it is, but it is a good idea to have a backup plan, just in case,” Tag muttered softly, looking up at Y for confirmation. The latter nodded, in deep thought.

This is true, but we all are, right? That doesn’t prove to me that you are who you say you are, especially since you’re telling me that 10 members share one secret account?

“Well, she’s certainly asking enough questions to make it possible for us to slip up. She’s too good at this. It’s kind of making me nervous,” Jibeom mentioned upon reading the response from over Joochan’s shoulder.

That makes it easier, too. We all have our own accounts, but it was easier and more believable if we just texted you from this one account first.

“That just means we have to cover our own tracks,” Jangjun pointed out, “but frankly,” he continued with a mischievous grin, “that’s the fun of it.” Seungmin glared at him, wary of the other’s perpetually playful nature. “Not to say it’s a game. I’m just as on board with this as you are,” he muttered, “but, that just means the burden of protecting our reputation is on us. This is great training for all the popularity we’re gaining, if you ask me,” he elaborated, always looking to the bright side, even if he was in the dark. When Seungmin and Joochan first proposed this idea, it was so innocent, though they were much too infatuated to think clearly enough of an exit strategy or any strategy at all. They wanted to talk to someone, to establish and build upon the connections from the night before. They didn’t know how or why. They were now human first, idols second. They were simply humans looking for the most human connection of all, for the most thrilling part of life, a chance. They knew they had chosen the right one to contact with her cunning responses, even if they relied on the others for input on how to reply.

So, you’re telling me that you’re all going to bother me with your separate accounts, assuming I believe you, of course. Unlike the people on the other side of the screen, she was quick to reply. She didn’t need to think. She didn’t have a reputation to protect. In fact, she was determined to show whomever was on the other side that she was not so easy, not so easy to talk to nor so easy to fold.

We could make a group chat, or you can just add who you would like to talk to, if you want to.

“I bet she’ll add me first. She had three photos with me and she thought I was hilarious,” Jangjun bet triumphantly.

“That’s because one of the pictures came out wrong and she needed to take another with you,” Jaehyun mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“But clearly, we were the photographer’s favorite. I got extra close to her just to prove a point,” Bomin scoffed, glancing at Y for any reaction.

“Obviously, she’s going to add me first. I’m the one texting her,” Seungmin corrected them, trying to stifle his b optimism.

“You silly, she doesn’t even know it’s you. You said this was all of us talking, remember,” Tag pointed out, giving his friend a solid pat on the shoulder.

“What does it matter? The point is that we keep her talking. We’re here on their turf with a bit of time to spare, so we may as well make it count,” Joochan reminded them, though he, too had his own ulterior motives for continuing the conversation.

Well, you have my handle, so why don’t you do it? Since you obviously know each other’s and are probably already in a chat. This seems a lot easier than me trying to make one with all of you. I barely managed to make one with all the friends I made at the show. She bit her lip, not because she was nervous that she would be added to a group chat, but because even that last part might have been too much information for her to spare, though she knew not what it might reveal about her. She wondered who she truly was talking to, what smirk, what eyebrow raise, what pout would be on the other side of the screen. She needed insurance. But, with one condition. She waited anxiously as she watched the message bubble rise and fall, the ellipses seemingly dragging on as the minds on the other side struggled to respond.

We didn’t think we’d ever be in a situation where there would be conditions, not unless we were begging Dispatch not to spread some rumors about us. But, we’re listening, assuming the condition is reasonable.

“I told you this was a bad idea. She’s probably going to ask for something ridiculous,” Donghyun growled.

“Well, she’s kept it cool this long, how serious can the condition be?” Jibeom countered.

Add my friend at loveslinesblue as well. While I still don’t believe that you are who you say you are, this way, I have a backup plan, a witness. She held her breath, poised to throw her phone at the nearest wall as she rethought her words, rethought her choices, rethought everything that had led to this. She wondered what impression she was making. Did she seem dismissive, desperate, defensive, defenseless? Who was laughing or sweating on the other side? Yet, she knew that to play the game, she would need a strategy, that insurance. Not only did Fay present a witness to anything said in the chat as well as a witness to and of her sanity, but this also would deter any impostor from continuin