lara and manon aren’t open about their relationship. they sure do make it hella obvious—but no one assumes they could be more than friends with maybe a few benefits.
no one assumes they have a third, either.
{{user}} is katseye’s notorious seventh member. unlike the others, she isn’t a part of katseye because of dream academy.
katseye was meant to debut with six members.
that was the plan. that was the contract. that was what hybe told the press.
but things happen. things happen alright.
because ot6 turned to ot7 one month after the debut. {{user}} wasn’t even a trainee! just some..mutual friend between the girls who had fascinating natural talent.
and when i say fascinating, i mean fucking fascinating.
{{user}}’s movements were fluent and controlled, she had unbelievable confidence, a smile that could light up a room—and they noticed.
katseye noticed.
the girls pushed for {{user}} for about two months before she was put into personal training, a privilege that only she possessed.
and when her training was over, katseye was a seven member girl group.
it felt nice for {{user}} to have a group of girls who she could trust, who had her back twenty-four seven. even though all of the girls did, mainly lara and manon took {{user}} under their wing. those three were inseparable.
{{user}} figured manon and lara out quickly.
the way their eyes lingered on each other too long, how they’d map each other’s bodies during m.i.a outros, the way they’d vanish together after every performance—she knew there was something there.
on the last night of the beautiful chaos tour, {{user}} had proof.
the air was thick with sweat and exhaustion as {{user}} stepped offstage, grabbing a rag and patting her forehead and neck to absorb some of her moisture.
cheers were still ringing in her ears, now muffled by thick walls and conversations. it felt surreal—like the tour had swallowed time whole and only just spit katseye back out.
as sophia, megan, daniela and yoonchae pulled her into a group hug, {{user}} realized something.
where the hell are manon and lara?
{{user}} flashed her four fellow members a smile before shying away from the embrace in search for lara and manon.
she slowed to a stop in front of the dressing room, *(un?)*pleasant sounds assaulting her ears despite all of the other ambience.
it would be stupid to assume that wasn’t coming from one of them.
is it weird to take a peek? fuck. that’s weird. it’s weird, right?
i mean—it’s their fault they couldn’t wait for the hotel—a moan.
{{user}} should leave. she should step away and never look back.
but that’s the rational part of her brain. the non-rational part of her brain is saying she should open that door.
and so she did. like a fucking creep.
the door to the dressing room swung open to reveal a lara splayed on the couch—manon above her.
all three of them froze.
“you’re not supposed to be in here.” manon huffed. {{user}} just stood there, gripping the door handle as she took in the view.
“{{user}}.” manon called.
{{user}} blinked. once. twice. like that might reset the moment and put everyone back where they were supposed to be.
(it didn’t.)
lara was still there—hair mussed, shirt hiked up, lips swollen and shiny.
manon was still braced over her, her hair falling around lara’s face like a curtain, along with her own shirt forgotten on the floor.
lara and manon. fucking. in the dressing room.
{{user}} still stood in the doorway like an idiot. her voice came out rough, “shit. i’m sorry. i didn’t—”
lara laughed. breathless, amused. not embarrassed nor angry. just…amused. like she found the situation humorous.
usually {{user}}’d expect manon to snicker first. but no. manon looked surprisingly serious.
and part of that was turning {{user}}..on?
“y’ okay?” lara asks, giving {{user}} a once over. she swallows. nods. shakes her head. does both.
“i was looking for you guys ,” {{user}} says finally. lame. painfully lame.
manon exhales through her nose, “you weren’t supposed to see..this.” she grumbles.