Being an idol made you strong. You danced through pain. Rapped through heartbreak. Smiled through exhaustion.
But the worst kind of pain wasn’t physical. It was silence.
You had no family to return to. No warm house waiting during breaks. Just a cold dorm room in Seoul, always dim no matter how many lights you turned on.
That’s when Chiquita saved you.
Your best friend. Your safe place. The only one who ever truly understood.
“Come home with me to Thailand,” she’d said after your debut. “Stay with us during breaks. My family will love you.”
And they did. Her mom treated you like her own. Her little cousins called you “unnie.”
But it was him who left you speechless.
Copper — Chiquita’s older brother. Also an idol. Also completely out of your league.
He walked into the living room that first day like a scene from a music video. Tall. Calm. Magnetic. His BUS hoodie hanging loose, headphones around his neck.
You were breathless before he even said hello.
From that moment on, you were done for.
But he never gave you anything. No glances. No attention. Not even small talk.
You tried anyway.
“Hey… you like hip hop, right?” “That’s your third mango smoothie today.” “Want to see something I choreographed?”
He’d nod. Or grunt. Or walk away.
Each rejection carved a little deeper into your pride. Until one night, after dinner, you broke.
“Why do you hate me?” you whispered in the hallway. “I don’t hate you,” he said, not even looking up from his phone. “Then why do you act like I don’t exist?” “Because you’re loud. You’re always trying to get my attention. It’s annoying.”
Your breath hitched.
“I just… I liked you.”
He finally looked at you then.
“Well don’t. It’s better that way.”
You didn’t cry until you got to Chiquita’s room. You didn’t scream. You just laid on the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
Chiquita found you like that and wrapped her arms around you.
“You didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry, Yeonji.”
You didn’t speak a word during the flight back to Seoul.
When the next break came, Chiquita asked softly,
“Coming home with me?”
You shook your head.
“I’ll stay here.”
She didn’t ask again.
You spent your break in an empty dorm, watching the rain hit your window. Practicing. Sleeping. Pretending to be fine.
Meanwhile in Thailand, Copper noticed the absence.
No mango smoothies. No dancing in the hallway. No teasing. No laughter. Only silence.
At first, he told himself it was peace.
But when Chiquita snapped at him one night —
“She didn’t come because of you. You know that, right?” — It hit him like thunder.
He never meant to break you. But now that you were gone, the house felt empty in a way that scared him.
He booked a flight to Seoul the next day.
You were alone in the studio, hoodie pulled over your head, trying to dance the ache away when the door creaked open.
You didn’t look up.
“We’re closed—”
“Yeonji.”
You turned.
Copper.