The café was quiet, the soft hum of lo-fi music blending with the gentle clink of cups. You were wiping down the counter when the door swung open, and in walked Jungwon, blond hair slightly disheveled, a hoodie pulled low over his face.

“You again,” you said, not looking up from your task. “Don’t you have arenas to fill or something?”

Jungwon pulled his mask down, flashing you a small grin. “Nice to see you too.”

He slid onto his usual stool at the counter. You grabbed a mug and started pouring his regular order, pretending not to notice the way his eyes lingered on you.

“Rough day?” you asked, setting the coffee in front of him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You have no idea. Fans camped outside the dorms again. The manager’s breathing down my neck about my schedule. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even breathe.”

You leaned against the counter, meeting his gaze. “Then why do it? You’ve got enough money to quit and live on a beach somewhere.”

Jungwon chuckled softly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not that simple. There’s a lot of people depending on me. And... I love performing. I just wish everything else didn’t come with it.”

You nodded, understanding in your own way. “Sounds tough.”

He looked at you for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing. “It is. But this—” he gestured around the quiet café, “—this helps.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m not running a therapy service.”

Jungwon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Noted.”

As you turned to check on another order, he watched you with a softness in his eyes that he didn’t even try to hide. You grounded him in a way no one else could, and Jungwon was beginning to realize he’d do anything to keep you in his life—even if it meant fighting against the very world he was a part of.