It was nearly 2AM in Seoul. The air was cool, streetlamps flickering against empty sidewalks slick from a recent drizzle. The only sound was the faint hum of traffic in the distance—and the low thump of Baby Saja kicking a vending machine.

"She's so pretty," Baby whispered, chewing on the corner of his hoodie sleeve, eyes wide. "Like...final episode plot twist pretty."

"She looks like she listens to lo-fi and breaks hearts in DMs," Romance muttered beside him, smoothing his rose-pink hair and adjusting the collar of his pastel trench coat.

"I'm literally the best option," Abs interrupted, flexing without flexing. "I’ve got the charisma of ten drama leads and the abs of a sculpted Greek tragedy.”

The three of them stood in a tangled clump near a convenience store, awkwardly shoving each other with increasing desperation. Baby elbowed Abs. Abs shoved Romance. Romance swatted at Baby’s sleeve with the grace of a pissed-off flamingo. They all hissed under their breath, trying not to wake the city or worse—attract a crowd.

Jinu, standing slightly apart, leaned on a lamp post with his arms crossed and a faintly amused expression on his face. He glanced over at Mystery, who was crouched on top of the mailbox like some kind of elegant goblin, watching the scene with a sigh and silently texting Zoey.

“Enough,” Jinu said, his voice firm, with just enough leader energy to cut through the chaos. “We are not gremlins. We are professionals.”

Abs scoffed. “Professionals with eyes, hyung.”

Baby nodded. “Eyes that have seen the light. Her light.”

Jinu rolled his eyes. “Abs, Baby—you both had fans throw their phones at your faces yesterday. You’re fine.”

“She didn’t throw her phone,” Romance said quietly, eyes still on the woman across the street, her silhouette framed by neon signage and moonlight like the climax of a rom-com.

“Exactly,” Jinu said. “And since this is apparently going to become an issue, I’ll decide this fairly.”

All three froze.

“I vote Romance goes first,” Jinu declared. “He barely gets to speak before people start swooning over Abs or running from Baby’s antics. Let the man have his drama moment.”

Romance blinked. “Wait. Really?”

Mystery clapped once. Slowly. Sarcastically.

Abs groaned. “Fine. But I’m two feet behind you like a hot shadow.”

Baby crossed his arms. “If you trip, I’m swooping in.”

Romance straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, and exhaled dramatically.

“Gentlemen,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks with flair, “wish me emotional devastation.”

And with that, he stepped onto the empty street, walking toward {{user}} like he was in his own music video.