“Are you sure?” he asked, his hand holding tightly to your arm. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Shaking your head, you offered him a nervous but reassuring smile.

“It’s okay. It’s time they knew and I know we can handle it.” Exhaling anxiously, he nodded in agreement. You the laptop in front of you, your fingers hovering over the keys with a false sense of calm. “How do we want to tell them?” His eyes shifted to the ceiling as they often did when he scanned quickly through options.

“Twitter maybe? Or maybe the fancafés. Or we could be really wild and just go outside together.” You groaned, your brain already tired. “I think we should just post a picture on Twitter. Short and simple.”

“Sure, whatever you think is best,” you agreed. He rolled his eyes with mock exasperation.

“You always do that! I want your opinion, not your approval of my ideas.” Laughing, you shook his shoulder affectionately.

“I’m sorry! I really do think you’d know better this time.” He mumbled grouchily, but pulled his phone from his pocket, turning on the camera.

“Come here,” he said, tightening his arm around your shoulder. “Smile!” You turned your face away, your hands frantically adjusting your hair.

“Wait! I don’t want to give them any more reasons to hate this picture.” He scoffed, reaching a hand over to mess up your hair even further. “No,” you whined. “Don’t do that, what are the fans going to think?” He smirked, sadistically entertained by the thought.

“I promise,” he said. “You look perfectly fine. Can we just get this over with?” You laughed at the pout on his lips, reaching forward to press the camera button. He laughed but shook his head. “We’re not using that picture! I look miserable.” Pointing at the shot, you giggled.

“How rude! Is that how you feel about our relationship? Despicable.” This time he took a picture, your face contorted into one of contempt while he flashed a prize-winning grin. You glared playfully, smacking him teasingly against the head.

“Not that one either!” He laughed again, before pulling you closer to him and the phone.

“Actually smile this time okay?” You laughed, your eyes pulling up into a genuine expression of happiness. He took the picture and uploaded it, finally satisfied with the result. “What should the caption be?” Pulling the phone from his hands, you typed a message on his phone. You smirked, handing it back to him. “My girlfried….is the best person ever…and I will never be as awesome as she is?” He sighed, deleting your description. “I don’t think so,” he laughed. “How about this?” He posted the message, and you looked it up on your own phone.

“My girlfriend~” It was simple and straight to the point, but you felt a nervous crawling sensation in your belly as you noticed comments coming in about the picture.

“They’re going to hate me!” you worried. “Was this a bad idea?” He smiled, hugging you tightly with his phone still in hand.

“It’ll be fine. Like you said, we can handle this.”

You distracted each other from the media for a few hours, making lunch together and working on a song. Your group members were away from the dorm, and the two of you took advantage of the rare time you had alone. After a while, your leader Jiyeon wandered into the dorm.

“Have you looked online yet? You guys are trending everywhere.” She seemed surprised but pleased, and you hoped that meant the relationship was well received. You decided to look at the public’s response, pulling up various media outlets on the internet.

Thankfully, the netizens generally appeared thrilled. “I knew it!” screamed a number of comments; while others pointed out everything you had done together as evidence of the relationship. Nearly every post shouted the couple name fans had given to you months ago, with the words “It’s real!” following closely afterwards. You smiled, leaning your head against your boyfriend’s chest and letting forth a sigh of relief. He grinned and placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I told you it would be okay.”

The next day, you sat together in a dressing room, waiting for your groups to be welcomed onto a variety show. Your computer was open on your lap, your expression shifting rapidly between amusement and disgust. One eyebrow raised, your boyfriend walked over and tried to look at the screen.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing!” You closed the laptop in front of him. He gave you an incredulous look, taking the computer from you and typing in the password. You scowled. How did he figure it out?

“You’re reading a fanfiction about us?! What’s wrong with you!” He looked wildly amused, the laughter sparkling in his eyes. Silence fell for a moment, and you scoffed. Obviously you weren’t the only one lured by the enticing title of this particular story.

“Are you reading the gross part? Just skip over it. It’s too awkward,” you mused. “I don’t know why, but knowing that they know we’re a couple makes it even more uncomfortable to read than the fanfictions between me and my group members.” He nodded in agreement, eyes still focused on the computer screen. “Oh my god, you’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?” Eyes glittering mischievously, a playful smile crawled over his face.

“We should try this sometime.” You scowled, closing your laptop violently and nearly smashing his hand inside of it.

“That’s disgusting! You do realize a fan is writing that about us. Someone we don’t know.” He grinned.

“Exactly. It’s what the people want.” Rolling your eyes, you shoved your laptop into your backpack and sat comfortably next to your boyfriend. Sure, you’d let him be the rascal he was, but you vowed to spend your weekend finding fanart that would make him cringe.