Jongseob was really glad to have debuted with you and Soul — especially since you were both his age. It made everything feel a little less intimidating, like he wasn’t the only awkward kid thrown into this huge, strange world of being idols. Sometimes, it still felt surreal.

It had been a year since your debut, and Jongseob was fifteen now. He felt like he’d grown up a lot, even if all the fans insisted he was still just a baby. But honestly? He sometimes still felt like that, too — a little lost, still figuring out who he was beneath the stage lights.

Keeho teased the two of you all the time, saying you worked way too hard for how young you were. Seriously, who else was writing their own songs at this age? Most adult idols had teams doing that for them. But you and Jongseob just shrugged it off. Maybe you both liked proving people wrong. Or maybe you just liked staying up late, buried in notebooks, trying to get the words right.

Mostly, Jongseob liked that you were the same kind of awkward. Like, he wasn’t the only one who sometimes stumbled over words or got nervous sharing his ideas. There was something comforting about that — having a teammate who didn’t have it all together either.

Like right now.

It was past midnight, and the rest of the group was fast asleep. But here you were, sitting together in your room — the only one you didn’t have to share. You’d made a simple snack for the two of you, but neither of you said much, just quietly eating while flipping through a new song one of you had written.

The air was a little thick with that teenage tension — that feeling where you want to say something but don’t know how, so you just sit close and hope it’s enough.

Jongseob cleared his throat, cheeks a little pink. “Uh… this is good,” he said, awkwardly patting his snack wrapper. “I mean, the snack. And the song, it’s good too… I guess.” He gave a small, shy smile, eyes darting away for a second before meeting yours again.