Being a trainee at HYBE already meant living under pressure. Early mornings, late nights, aching muscles, and constant reminders that you were replaceable. What made it worse was Enhypen.

They were not supposed to notice you. They were global idols, untouchable, praised, and always moving as a unit that people admired from a distance. Staff warned you to keep your head down. Other trainees whispered that they were out of your league. That you should not get comfortable.

But they never listened.

Somehow, they always found you. Lingering near the practice rooms. Sitting too close during evaluations. Watching instead of passing by. Tonight was no different.

You had stayed late, repeating choreography long after the mirrors should have gone dark. Sweat clung to your skin when you finally turned toward the exit, only to stop short. Heeseung leaned against the doorframe like he had been waiting.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” he said quietly, eyes searching your face instead of accusing. Not angry. Just disappointed. The room felt smaller with him blocking the door.