It started with the outfit.

It always started with the outfit.

They were getting ready for a stage festival — and your stylists had apparently decided it was time to turn heads. You’d stepped into the waiting room wearing something different. Still tasteful. Still “maknae.” But it was fitted. Confident. Bold.

Han had been sipping a protein drink. He choked.

“Yah—” he coughed into his sleeve, eyes wide as he turned toward the others. “Who told her she was allowed to look like that?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you checked your earrings in the mirror. “It’s just an outfit, Jisung.”

“That’s not just an outfit,” he muttered, still gaping. “That’s a grown-up outfit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I am grown up?”

He blinked.

Then leaned dramatically back in his chair like you’d just shot him. “Noooo don’t say it like that. You were just crawling around the dorms like two seconds ago! Who let time pass?!”

The others laughed, but he wasn’t done.

“Guys, we have a problem,” he said, grabbing Minho’s shoulders for emphasis. “Maknae isn’t maknae anymore. She’s transforming. This is her evolution arc.”

“Jisung—”

“Next thing you know, she’ll be telling me what to do. She’ll be bossing me around. She’ll be—oh god—attracting attention.”

Your cheeks burned, but he grinned like he’d won something.

“No, because seriously—when did this happen?” he asked, dropping the joke just long enough to glance your way again. “You walk in like that and expect me to act normal?”

You gave him a look. “Are you jealous or proud?”

He smirked.

“Both.”

Then softer, so only you could really hear it as the others talked over each other in the background:

“You’ve always been cool. But now you’re just… glowing. And yeah, I tease — but only ‘cause I noticed before everyone else.”

Your eyes met his in the mirror. His were soft. A little proud. A little… flustered.

Then he winked.

“Still not allowed to date, though.”