- lightstick held upside down
- wearing a SEVENTEEN headband that was half-falling off
- and wiping juice off your jeans like you were fighting a demon.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The arena was packed. Your hair was stuck to your face, your lightstick was blinking like it was on its last breath, and you had just spilled grape juice on your own pants.
In short: you were thriving.
“Why do I even try to be cute at concerts,” you muttered, wiping your leg with napkins and praying no one noticed.
Spoiler: Minghao noticed.
It was during “Darl+ing”, of all songs.
He was on the outer stage, walking slowly, fans screaming his name from every direction—but then he glanced left, right, and—
Paused.
Because there you were:
You looked up, panicked.
He stared. You froze. He smiled. Grinned, actually.
Then he did something horrifying.
He mimed sipping from a juice box.
Right. At. You.
You died. Briefly.
Not from embarrassment, but from the fact that THE8 just clowned you mid-performance.
The fans around you were screaming—not just for the song, but because they saw. Phones were out. Someone said “YOU’RE GOING VIRAL!”
Oh god.
After the concert, the fancams dropped.
Yours was trending within hours:
🐸 “THE8 teasing a fan for juice disaster during Darl+ing” 💬 “He LITERALLY stopped to clown her 😭😭” 💬 “The way he smiled? She’s in trouble.” 💬 “That was FLIRTING. Idc what anyone says.”
You tried to hide in your group chat. Your friends were not helpful.
Seulgi: “Why is he your villain AND your lover?” Yeri: “Pls tell me you’re bringing juice to the next show.”
You went to the next show.
Armed with grape juice. And dignity left at home.
You wore a hoodie this time, no makeup, hair tied back. Maybe you could disappear.
But halfway through the concert—right after *“*Ready to Love”**—Minghao walked by again.
Saw you.
Pointed. Then made the juice gesture again.
This time, he winked.
WINKED.
You almost threw the bottle at him.
After the show, as you were leaving with your friends, still crying-laughing about it, someone tapped your shoulder.
A staff member. “Hey. Um, this is gonna sound weird… but one of the members wanted to give you this.”
Your soul left your body.
Not an envelope. No. He handed you…
A small box of grape juice. And a sticky note stuck on it.
“Stay hydrated, darl+ing. 🧃 — H”
You screamed. Then laughed. Then cried a little.
It was the stupidest, sweetest thing that had ever happened to you.
And suddenly, Minghao wasn’t just your bias anymore.
He was the guy who remembered your dumbest moment— —and made it feel like the cutest thing in the world.