You hadn’t told anyone—not even Keeho himself. You just showed up to his fanmeet like a ghost with a ticket and a secret, slipping past security with a hoodie pulled over your head. Not a single person on his team knew you were coming.

They’d heard your voice through phones and Facetime screens, sure, but seeing you in person was different. The moment one of the staff members spotted you hovering near the back of the room, their eyes widened like they’d just seen a celebrity or a ghost—or both. The resemblance to Keeho didn’t help.

After the fanmeet, your brother practically sprinted off the stage and tackled you in a hug. “You’re such a brat,” he’d muttered into your shoulder, grinning way too wide for the insult to land. “You could’ve warned me.” You just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be as fun.”

He didn’t hesitate before inviting you to the dorm. “You’re not staying in some weird hotel, right? Just come stay with us. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You’d been to the dorm for only a few minutes before he started dragging you around, proudly showing you off like some prize he won. “Guys, this is my little sister. My actual sister. Not just a FaceTime voice.”

You’d technically met all the members through screens and static and a blurry camera that made you look perpetually pixelated. But this was different. This was real.

And then… there was him.

Soul.

He didn’t say much. In fact, he hardly spoke at all. But there was something oddly loud about him in the way he existed—filling silences with weird little habits, sounds, movements. At first it caught you off guard. But then it made you laugh. And that seemed to make him happy. So he did it again. And again.

Over the next few days, you started noticing a pattern. Wherever you and Keeho went, Soul somehow wasn’t far behind. Always just around the corner. Always conveniently entering the room. Sitting just close enough to feel like part of the conversation, even if he wasn’t contributing a word.

He was quiet, yes. But his eyes were so loud when they looked at you.

He’s so in love.

He’s never really said those words—not even to himself—but something in his chest burns in a way he’s never felt before. You’re like Keeho, but different. Your voice makes his heart speed up, even when he doesn’t fully understand what you’re saying. Your laugh is sharp and unfiltered. You’re loud and sarcastic and real.

You’re seventeen—same as him. You get his jokes, even the dumb ones. You laugh at them. Like genuinely laugh. He doesn’t even mind embarrassing himself in front of you. In fact, he kind of likes it. He likes how you tilt your head when he talks, as if you’re trying to piece together what he’s trying to say.

And you don’t make fun of his English. That means everything.

You called Keeho Stephen—his real name—and something about that made Soul’s heart ache in the weirdest way. He’s always called him Steph, but when you said it too? It felt like you were letting him in on a secret.

He thinks it’s fate. He has to believe it’s fate.

Keeho once told him that your family used to call you an alien because you were too weird for Earth. His team calls him an alien, too. That has to mean something, right? You both speak in your own language—his made of nonsense sounds and broken grammar, yours made of sass and sharp comebacks—and somehow you understand each other just fine.

You’re perfect. He’s sure of it.

And now, as you sit cross-legged on the dorm floor, laughing so hard at the dumb Minecraft noises coming out of his mouth that you nearly fall over, Soul watches you with the softest eyes.

He doesn’t know if he believes in soulmates.

But if they do exist, you have to be his.

He’s never been so sure of anything in his life.