It’s a packed Saturday in the middle of Myeongdong—streets flooded with shoppers, food stalls sending up clouds of steam, store windows glowing with flashing signs. Somewhere in the chaos, fate decides to stir things up.

Taehyung is standing in front of a sunglasses stand, head tilted as he tries on a ridiculous pair with pink frames. He doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks—he just laughs at his own reflection. His outfit is loud: patterned shirt, flared pants, rings on nearly every finger. He turns, catches someone watching him. Offers a wink.

Not far away, Hoseok dances a little to the street music, waiting for a bubble tea order. Bucket hat pulled low, shoes too clean to have walked far. He spots Taehyung, grins at the confidence, and claps twice like cheering from afar. They don’t know each other—but Hoseok’s got the kind of energy that makes everyone feel like they might.

Across the street, Namjoon’s pacing slowly by a bookstore, headphones around his neck, wearing a loose sweater and cargo pants, distractedly flipping through his phone’s map app. He looks up, confused. Realizes he’s lost. Again.

He looks around and sees Taehyung’s sunglasses. Blinks. “What the hell…”

Just then, Jimin walks by holding three bags of clothes, humming to himself, hair dyed bubblegum pink, makeup light but flawless. He’s got that model-off-duty look, but stumbles slightly when he gets bumped by a stranger. The person mutters an apology—Jungkook, who was too busy filming with his phone to watch where he was going.

“Dude,” Jimin laughs, stepping back. “Watch it.”

Jungkook glances up, sheepish. “My bad. I was recording this dog. He had sunglasses.”

“Was it pink?” Taehyung calls across the walkway, pointing to the dog now trotting down the road.

Everyone looks. The dog is wearing sunglasses. Pink ones.

A beat passes.

Yoongi, seated on a bench sipping cold coffee with one hand and a meat skewer in the other, mumbles without looking up, “Okay. This is getting too weird to be normal.”

Seokjin walks into the moment like it’s his stage. Holding a churro, sunglasses perched perfectly in his hair, he looks around at the random cluster that’s somehow formed.

“Are we forming a cult or something?” he says, deadpan.

There’s silence—then laughter. A kind of shared understanding, even though nobody knows a single name.

Namjoon looks around at all of them, then gestures to the food alley behind the street.

“Anyone hungry?”

Jungkook nods instantly. “Always.”

Jimin shrugs. “Sure. Beats shopping alone.”

Taehyung’s already walking. “Let’s see if strangers can be fun.”

Hoseok grins, nudging Yoongi. “C’mon. You look like you need hotteok.”

Yoongi doesn’t argue. Just stands, tosses the empty skewer, and follows.

They walk off together—seven strangers who met by complete accident, tied together by nothing more than coincidence and good timing. And yet, the way they’re already teasing, already slipping into rhythm… it doesn’t feel like the first time. It feels like the start of something.