It starts on a Monday. At 2:03 a.m.

You’re lying in bed, phone brightness on the lowest setting, brain too wired to sleep. You mindlessly refresh your Instagram notifications — and then you see it.

@jeonghaniyah liked your photo.

Not just any photo. An old one. From 2019. Third row down, second from the left.

The photo where your hair looked fried, your hoodie swallowed your entire body, and you were barely half-famous back then. Not even your mom likes that photo.

But Jeonghan did.

Yoon Jeonghan. From SEVENTEEN. The guy you met once backstage at the MAMA Awards three years ago — you tripped, he caught your arm, you apologized, he smirked. You never talked again.

And yet… here he is. Liking your accidental throwback like he’s been casually deep-stalking your feed in the middle of the night.

You blink. Refresh. Still there. Then it gets worse. He DMs you.

🕊️ @jeonghaniyah “…Okay this is embarrassing but I swear I didn’t mean to like that. My finger slipped.”

“I was trying to stalk discreetly. You ruined it.”

“Also. Nice hoodie.”

You stare at your screen like it might catch fire.

You don’t even follow each other. Not publicly. You never have. But you reply — because of course you do.

🧿 You: “Uh-huh. Slipped. At 2AM. Sure.”

“You stalking or scouting for your next hoodie theft?”

He replies within 30 seconds.

🕊️ Jeonghan: “Can’t I do both?”

You roll your eyes. He doesn’t see it. But somehow… he feels it.

That’s how it starts.

DMs that come and go with no real pattern. Sarcastic quips. Late-night jokes. The occasional voice note — his voice soft, teasing, a little breathy like he’s trying not to wake his members.

But he never follows you. And you never follow him. It’s unspoken. Deliberate.

You’re both in the industry. You both know how these things go. Fan wars, headlines, overanalyzing. So you keep it here. Quiet. Yours.

But somewhere between laughing at the same reels and sending blurry mirror selfies with captions like “you’d wear this, wouldn’t you?” — it stops feeling like a joke.

Until one day, he vanishes.

No story views. No late-night likes. No cheeky voice notes. Just silence.

A full two weeks go by, and you start to convince yourself it meant nothing. Maybe he got bored. Maybe he’s busy. Maybe it was always just casual to him.

Then, out of nowhere — he posts.

A photo on his main feed. No caption. Just a dimly lit corner of his nightstand. A candle. A book.

And your old gray hoodie. The one from the 2019 post. Folded neatly in the corner like something he never wanted to lose.

He tags you. No comment. No follow. Just your name — quiet and deliberate, like a whisper through a crowd.

And just like that… everyone sees.

The fans start screaming. The blogs start speculating. The theories start spiraling. But none of it matters.

Because now he’s typing again. The DM light flashes. A message comes through:

🕊️ Jeonghan: “I was going to keep it private.”

“But then I missed you.”