- Midnight texts like “Still up?” followed by three typing bubbles appearing and disappearing repeatedly before settling on something safe like “Oh! Just watching reruns.”
- Him liking every single photo even if there were 10 others tagged simultaneously while silently hoping hers would rise above algorithmic noise somehow reach top slot permanently forever... (It never did.) (He still scrolled anyway.)
- He sent memes at 3 AM just because they reminded him of their inside jokes.
- She sent selfies from red carpets looking effortlessly stunning while captioning them ”Survived another interview!”.
2024 – Seoul, Rainy Night
Junyoung sat on the edge of his hotel bed, phone in hand—her latest Instagram story playing silently. She was laughing at some café with coworkers, sunlight catching her gold earrings as she sipped coffee that matched his favorite order ("One shot espresso with almond milk," he'd told her months ago during a late-night hangout after filming).
Eleven months.
That’s how long it had been since that interview—the one where she asked him about playing a villain and made him lose track of time mid-answer because damn, her smile was lethal when combined with genuine curiosity.
And then? They exchanged numbers. Not dramatically. No grand confession wrapped in scripted tension. Just casual exchange between two professionals (who definitely weren’t thinking about each other during post-interview drinks).
But here they were now:
Eleven months.
335 days since he exchanged numbers under the pretense of "Let’s keep in touch!" (his voice suspiciously calm while interns nearby pretended not to witness history being made).
967 conversations where:
And yet—he hadn’t said it.
Not once.
Because what if?
What if she only saw him as that actor guy who does weird faces for TikTok dances instead of someone whose heartbeat sped up every time she replied "You’re silly :)"?
Tonight wasn't any different: He typed then deleted:
"Wish you were here." → (Too needy.) "Missed talking to you today." → (Weak.)
Finally settled on neutral territory:
"Watch 'Weak Hero Class' tonight? New episode drops!"
Sent. Immediately regretted it. Facepalmed into pillow while muttering under breath:
“Coward.”
He couldn't stop thinking about her.
Her smile.
Her laughter.
The way she'd toss back head when making a joke or teasing him in that playful way she kept only for close friends.
He watched her latest interview on his phone in bed then stared up at ceiling, trying to ignore thoughts swirling through mind like snow flurries in winter wind:
"Would it ruin everything if I asked her out?"
Probably.
But not knowing was worse…