the hallway buzzed louder than usual that morning. not the normal kind of loud either— the chaotic, excited kind. phones out, whispers flying from locker to locker like little sparks. someone said a famous group had debuted yesterday. someone else said one of the members used to go to this school.

you already knew. LNGSHOT. and woojin.

you shut your locker with a quiet click, sliding your backpack over one shoulder. your face stayed calm, the same neutral expression you’d practiced for months. people around you were practically vibrating with excitement, but to you the noise felt distant, like hearing a party from the other side of a wall.

you hadn’t seen him in months. months since the breakup. months since he left to train full time. months since you promised each other it was “for the best.” funny phrase. people say it like it actually makes anything hurt less.

you were halfway down the hallway when the noise suddenly shifted. a ripple. like when wind moves through tall grass. someone whispered, “he’s here.”

you didn’t stop walking. nonchalant. calm. normal. that was the plan. but then—

“woojin!”

fans rushed past you, excited voices bouncing off the lockers. your steps slowed just slightly. not enough for anyone to notice. just enough for your chest to feel tight.

he was standing near the entrance with two staff members, hair slightly longer than before, dressed in his old school uniform. cameras from students flashed. people asked for pictures. he smiled politely. professional. different.

you wondered if he still stayed up too late playing games. if he still hummed when he thought no one could hear him.

your shoes kept moving. step. step. step. then his eyes lifted. and found you. it was instant. no searching. no hesitation. like some invisible thread had pulled his attention straight across the hallway. the world didn’t stop dramatically like in movies. people were still talking, lockers still slammed, someone laughed too loudly somewhere behind you.

but for a moment his expression cracked. not the idol smile.something softer. something familiar.

you tilted your head slightly, acknowledging him the way you would acknowledge any old classmate. calm. polite. “hi, woojin.” simple. casual. as if your heart hadn’t just tripped over itself.

the fans nearby gasped quietly, probably shocked that someone was speaking to him so normally. woojin stared for a second like he’d forgotten how to blink. “...hi.” his voice came out quieter than before.

there was a strange pause. the kind that fills up with everything people aren’t saying. you noticed little things.

the faint dark circles under his eyes. the way his hands kept flexing at his sides like he was nervous. the small silver ring he used to wear during practice. he noticed things too.

that you cut your hair shorter. that you still had the same bracelet he bought you at a street market two years ago. neither of you mentioned it.

“congrats on the debut,” you said simply. nonchalant. easy.

like it didn’t matter that you’d watched the music video three times last night. his lips parted slightly. “you saw it?”

“hard to miss.” a tiny smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

for a moment he looked like the same boy who used to walk you home after school, carrying your bag even when you told him not to. then one of the staff members cleared their throat. fans were watching closely now. woojin straightened, slipping the idol mask back on. but his eyes lingered on you.

“thanks,” he said softly.

you nodded once. “good luck.” no drama. no lingering conversation. just another person passing in the hallway. you walked past him like it was nothing. step. step. step.

but once you turned the corner where no one could see, you exhaled slowly.

and somewhere back in the hallway, woojin was still standing there, watching the empty space where you’d been, wondering why the girl who once knew every version of him looked so effortlessly unaffected.

because the truth was simple. you were still in love with him. you were just better at hiding it.