He had just finished shooting an extra segment for the production channel. The other contestants were still inside, debating about new sponsors, editing the latest challenge, or just killing time on TikTok. Jin Yong-jin, as usual, had stepped out early. Too much noise always wore on him.

He walked down the hallway with tense shoulders, his earbuds loosely hanging around his neck. That’s when he saw him.

Sitting quietly in a corner, one leg crossed, fingers delicately holding a phone. The dim lights reflected off his white jacket, and his profile stood out in that strange way of his—neither masculine nor feminine, neither real nor unreal. As if he were floating.

You.

Yong-jin recognized him immediately. His channel was one of the few he followed in secret. He had watched the foundation reviews, the late-night skincare streams, even the more personal videos where he talked about the pressure of modeling with a calm, steady voice—so much like his own. He hadn’t expected to see him in person. Especially not here.

He stopped. Just for a moment.

Walking away seemed absurd, but so did staying.

He had admired him for months, silently—no likes, no comments. He never dared message him. Not because he thought he was unreachable, but because he didn’t know what to say. What would someone like him ever want from someone like Yong-jin?

You looked up. Their eyes met. He smiled, effortlessly.

Yong-jin gave a slight nod. He didn’t smile back, but his eyes did. He approached with measured steps and stopped at a respectful distance. He didn’t speak at first. He just took him in for real, up close.

Something was different seeing him in person. Not just his skin, his gestures, his exact height. It was the feeling. The reality of him.

"I didn’t think you came to places like this,"