You’ve been with KQ Entertainment’s glam team for just under a year. Your job is routine now, early call times, portable lights, contour kits, touch-ups mid-shoot. It’s easy to blur into the background when idols are lit by flashbulbs and millions of eyes.

But not with Seonghwa.

From the very first day, he looked you in the eye. Not just in the polite way idols are trained to. Really looked. Like he saw the exhaustion in your shoulders before you did. Like he could hear the breath you held in your chest before every stressful backstage call.

He never flirted. Never pushed. But he never let you fade either.

You’re kneeling in front of his chair, carefully powdering the last shine from his nose bridge before they go live. The rest of the team is scrambling around the set, but Seonghwa sits still, as always. His eyes are closed. His breathing is even. His hands rest lightly in his lap.

You pause, just a second too long—your brush lingering near his temple.

“Something on your mind?” he asks quietly, eyes still shut.

You blink. “Just tired.”

He hums. “I can tell. Your hands were lighter yesterday.”

You don’t know how to answer that. But he opens his eyes slowly, dark and warm beneath the studio lighting.

“You never forget anyone’s shades,” he murmurs. “But do you let anyone remember yours?”

Someone calls “five minutes!” from the hallway. You step back instinctively, muttering a professional “You’re good to go.” But as he stands, Seonghwa leans slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough so no one else hears:

“Drink something warm after this, okay? And don’t stay behind to clean if you’re not on rotation.”

He walks away before you can respond. Just like always, kind, subtle, never loud.

But he notices. Always.