Ahn Su-ho doesn’t care much for social media. Never did. His phone’s barely charged half the time, his notifications stay off, and his posts? Nonexistent. He used to have Instagram. Deleted it. Too loud, too crowded, too performative. He preferred his quiet, his routine of barely sleeping during the day, working long nights, and disappearing in between.

But then there was Yeongi. Persistent, dramatic, and somehow impossible to ignore.

“You need to be online,” she said. “People need to see you. You’re practically a myth.”

He ignored her for weeks. Eventually, just to shut her up, he reinstalled the app. Made a new account. No bio. No profile pic. He followed three people: Yeongi, Si-eun, and Beom-seok. That was the deal.

He’d scroll every once in a while, usually when pretending to study, the soft blue glow of the screen lighting up his blank expression. It didn’t mean much, until Yeongi sent him a message with ten exclamation marks and a screenshot.

“You’re literally matching with [your name] in every post. Who even plans that? Are you secretly dating? Is this an aesthetic-based situationship?!”

He didn’t answer. He clicked the profile. Then stared.

You.

You were in his class. You had been all semester. He’d seen you, but never quite like this, framed in the soft light of a café, your sleeve rolled up the same way his was last Tuesday. Different angles, same jacket. Same sneakers. Same captions, almost. He didn’t believe in fate, but it was strange enough to make him hesitate.

Yeongi dared him to follow you. He didn’t say yes. But he did it.

Then you followed back.

And now you’re sitting two rows away from him in lecture like nothing’s happened. Except now, he can’t stop wondering how many times your paths have crossed before you even noticed each other.