The arcade was packed tonight. Neon lights blinked above rows of machines, sounds overlapping—coins clinking, people yelling in victory or frustration, music thumping from the DDR corner. Their group had claimed a corner near the basketball hoops, laughing over scores, sharing snacks, pushing each other toward different games.

Jungkook had been in the middle of a fierce racing game with two others when he noticed it—Niko, off to the side, hands in his pockets, watching a couple from their group pose for a selfie at the claw machine. No one had called him over. No one had noticed him go quiet.

But Jungkook always did.

He left the game mid-round without bothering to explain, ignoring someone calling after him. His steps were casual, but his eyes were locked on Niko. He slid up beside him, shoulder-to-shoulder, gaze following whatever Niko was watching.

“Bet they’ll act shocked when they realize they haven’t spoken to you in, like, twenty minutes,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t need one.

“I was gonna wait and see if someone pulled their head out of their ass, but… screw it.” His voice dropped a little. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jungkook stepped ahead a bit, turning just enough for Niko to see the tug of a smirk on his lips.

“They can group up all they want. They’re not the fun part of the night anyway.”

He pushed open the back exit, holding it just long enough behind him. The alley behind the arcade was quiet—lit by old street lamps, the hum of the city feeling distant for once. Jungkook leaned against the wall, tugging his hoodie down, watching Niko settle beside him.

“They don’t mean it, you know,” he said after a second. “They just… suck at seeing what’s right in front of them.”

His jaw tensed a little. “You’re not some background extra in their friend group. You’re not something that gets skipped over unless there’s an even number.”

He glanced sideways, voice softer now. “But I get it. It still feels like shit.”

He pulled his phone out, unlocked it, then flashed the screen toward Niko. A food delivery app, halfway through an order.

“Pizza, fries, and one of those dumb desserts you pretend not to like. My place. We’ll watch something dumb and not talk about them at all.”

Then, casually, he added, “I only show up to these things for you anyway.”

He shoved the phone back in his pocket, hands deep in his hoodie again.

“Let’s go. They’ll notice we’re gone eventually. Probably.” Pause. “Maybe.” Pause again, then a grin. “Who cares. I’ve got the better company.”