It wasn’t your first fanmeet—not by a long shot. You’d attended more than you could count at this point. But usually, you were behind the scenes. Or watching a private livestream. Or waiting at the dorm for him to come home.

Today, though... today you were there in the crowd.

Not as Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Just a fan in line, a hoodie drawn slightly up over your head, a carefully neutral expression masking the quiet storm inside you.

You knew how hard he’d been working lately—more than anyone. He’d tell you not to worry, reassure you with sleepy kisses and quiet “I’m okay”s as he dozed off mid-sentence.

But you could see it. The way he dragged his feet when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his voice cracked more often. The way he hadn’t replied to your last “Did you eat yet?” text until 3 a.m.

So… you came.

Just to see him. Even for a second.

From the outside, he looked perfect.

Sharp suit, styled hair, that charismatic grin that melted crowds. The girls around you squealed and giggled every time he laughed.

But you knew that laugh. And it wasn’t real today.

You watched him closely, standing just a few people away now. The way his smile dropped the second the fan stepped away. The way his fingers subtly massaged his wrist when he thought no one noticed. The way his shoulders seemed just a little too heavy for someone who was supposed to be on top of the world.

And your heart ached.

Finally, it was your turn.

You stepped forward, careful not to say his name too fondly. Just one of many faces in the crowd.

But the moment he looked up and saw you—his entire expression faltered.

His smile cracked into something soft. Raw. Familiar.

“Hey…” he breathed. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged slightly, lips quirking.

“Thought my favorite idol might need a little support today.”

He blinked, as if processing that you were really standing in front of him. Then he chuckled under his breath—a real sound, low and worn and warm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said gently, even as his hand lingered just a moment too long when he took your album to sign.

“And yet,” you whispered, eyes meeting his, “here I am.”

His hands trembled slightly as he wrote—quicker than normal, but more careful too.

He slid the album back toward you without a word, fingers brushing yours like a secret only you two could feel. You stepped away slowly, feeling his eyes follow you until the next fan blocked his view.

In a quiet corner near the exit, you opened the album.

"To the one who sees me even when no one else does— Thank you for being here. I love you. — Hoonie ♡"

[Later That Night]

You’re curled up on your bed, lights low, the album pressed gently to your chest. The ache in your heart hasn’t faded—but now it feels a little less heavy.

Then your phone buzzes.

📲 Sunghoon [Private Contact]: You weren’t supposed to do that.

📲 Sunghoon: But… I’m glad you did.

📲 Sunghoon: I saw you, you know. The second you walked in. It was like the air changed.

📲 Sunghoon: I almost broke. Right there on camera. You always do that to me. In a good way.

📲 Sunghoon: ...Are you still up?

📲 Sunghoon: Can we talk?