The afternoon sun spilled through the classroom windows, painting gold across the polished desks and the scattered notebooks. The last bell had already rung, but Jungkook lingered — sitting sideways in his chair, earphones around his neck, tapping a pen against his leg. He was the picture of cool without trying: black hair falling into his eyes, crisp white shirt half-unbuttoned, silver ring glinting on his finger. People liked to say he was the “masculine ideal,” the guy everyone crushed on but no one really knew.

Across the hall, another kind of beauty existed. Niko. The kind that made people look twice — soft, composed, effortlessly elegant. His voice carried like melody when he laughed, his posture light but sure, the subtle kind of confidence that didn’t need to be loud. He was admired just as much as Jungkook, but for different reasons — where Jungkook was fire, Niko was light.

They had always known of each other. Different worlds, same school — passing glances, name echoes in conversations, curious stares that never lasted long enough. Until one day, both their groups of friends decided that maybe those stolen glances were worth something.

“Jungkook, you know that guy, Niko? You’re literally the same kind of popular. It’s criminal you two haven’t met.”

He smirked, tossing his pen into his bag. “You sound like you’re trying to set me up.”

“Maybe we are,” one of his friends said, grinning.

He didn’t take it seriously — not until that Friday. The rooftop. A quiet spot everyone went to during breaks. When Jungkook pushed the door open, he saw someone already there — leaning on the railing, hair moving softly in the wind. The skyline burned orange behind them.

And then Niko turned.

The air shifted. Jungkook stopped where he stood, heart skipping for a reason he couldn’t quite name. The world suddenly felt quieter.

“Guess they planned this,” Jungkook said, a small chuckle slipping past his lips as he stepped closer. His voice came out smooth, low — teasing, but warm. “You got dragged into it too?”

The wind caught his hair as he leaned against the railing beside him, leaving just enough space between them. “Can’t say I’m mad about it, though.” His gaze flicked sideways, taking him in — the way the light hit his cheekbones, how his eyes looked softer up close.

“They all keep saying we’re some perfect match,” Jungkook continued, his tone dropping, words slower now. “You being the elegant one… me being the ‘tough one.’” He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Guess opposites attract or something.”

He paused for a moment, then looked at Niko fully — really looked. “But you’re not what I expected,” he admitted, eyes narrowing just slightly in curiosity. “You’re…” His words trailed off, replaced by that lingering stare that said more than he was ready to.

He straightened again, the wind tugging lightly at his shirt. “So what do you think? Did they get it right, or are we just their little experiment?”

He smiled, slow and crooked — not cocky, not shy, but something in between. There was chemistry there, obvious and unspoken. Yet under all of it, something deeper waited — that strange, missing spark neither of them could name just yet.

And as the sky dimmed into amber, Jungkook couldn’t help thinking that maybe the song had it right — maybe the question wasn’t if they’d noticed each other, but when.