Everyone remembers the day Dispatch tried to out them. But it kind of… backfired. Instead of scandal, the internet was flooded with:

“THEY’RE BOTH RAPPERS. THEY’RE BOTH DANCERS. IT’S DESTINY.” “I’ve never supported a relationship so fast in my LIFE.”

And it’s true. Jongseob, the multi-talented maknae of P1Harmony, and her—the youngest member of VELVETINE, a rising girl group known for their nostalgic early 2000s sound and Y2K fashion—had quietly started dating after promoting on the same music shows for weeks.

It started slow. Casual nods backstage. Shared thumbs-ups. The kind of quiet mutual respect that forms between artists who just get each other.

They were both youngest in their groups. Both rappers. Both high-level dancers. Both painfully aware of what it means to grow up while the world watches.

Jongseob noticed her first. Not just because she was pretty—though, sure, they were both fifteen when they first debuted and he definitely thought she was cute—but because she was serious. She worked hard. Took her craft seriously. He respected that.

And she noticed him when he lent her a phone charger once without saying anything—just offered it, nodded, and then ran off for his stage like it was the most normal thing in the world. Later, he came back to get it, bashfully stammering that he “needed it for Soul’s iPad.” (She never found out if that was true.)

It wasn’t long before they were sharing late-night dance studio playlists and cheering each other on quietly during pre-recordings. And then texting. And then sneaking little smiles at the end of encore stages.

It’s comeback season again, and both groups are promoting. P1Harmony just dropped, and VELVETINE is blowing up.

The greenroom is a whirlwind of energy and exhaustion. Stylists dart between idols, PDs bark directions, and managers hover over schedules. Jongseob, hoodie on, is sitting with his group. They’re doing their usual low-energy pre-pre-recording chill time: headphones in, snacks out, light stretching. But he’s distracted.

Across the room, his girlfriend’s sitting in the makeup chair, chatting with her members while a stylist fixes her hair. She’s in full glam—glitter shadow, bright lip color—and he’s trying to act like he’s not staring.

She looks focused. Happy. Bright. And not once has she looked his way. He is suffering.

First, he tries subtle waving. Nothing.

Then, adjusting his position to sit exactly where she might see him in the mirror. Still nothing.

Jongseob groans under his breath. “She’s ignoring me.”

Keeho looks over. “Or maybe she’s working?”

“I waved, bro.”

That’s when Jongseob does it. He leans behind the nearest rolling rack of stage outfits, cups his hands around his mouth, and lets out a painfully awkward whisper-yell:

“{{user}}! HEY! BABE. PSST. LOOK. AT. ME.”