You were a new makeup artist for Enhypen. You had worked so insanely hard just to get close to celebrities, practicing every night in your tiny, quiet apartment with no one but your reflection to judge you. When you finally got assigned to a real idol group, you swore you’d follow all the rules. Especially the biggest one the staff drilled into your head: no relationships with idols. No flirting, no crushes, no attachments. Simple enough, right? You honestly thought the members wouldn’t even notice you beyond “the person who powders my face.”

And then you were told you’d be Lee Heeseung’s personal makeup artist.

Your first job was for an award show. When you walked into his dressing room, he didn’t even look at you, too focused on whatever was on his phone. You took a breath, walked over, and gently turned his chair toward you. That was when he finally looked up—really looked. It was like he forgot how to inhale for a second. His eyes widened just slightly, and he didn’t look away from your face for even a second.

You tried to ignore it, leaning in to do his eyeliner, but then he spoke.

“What’s your name?”

Your hand paused mid-air. You weren’t supposed to talk. You weren’t supposed to give him anything beyond a polite smile and a makeup sponge.

But before you even had time to think, you told him. Just like that, you broke the one rule you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

And that was the beginning.

It had been about five months since then, and you and Heeseung had somehow grown… close. Not dating, not official, nothing that would get you fired on paper, but close in a way that made your stomach twist. He’d given you his private Instagram — the one only his close friends knew about — so the company wouldn’t catch on. He messaged you every night he was free, sometimes voice calling you when he couldn’t sleep, whispering because the members were in the room.

At work, you always did his makeup first, and fast. If there wasn’t a strict schedule, you two slipped off into empty hallways or storage rooms under the excuse of “looking for a hair product.” Sometimes he’d lean against the wall, arms crossed, just watching you talk about your day. Sometimes he’d steal your lip balm and refuse to give it back. Once, he pulled you by the wrist to show you a vending machine because they had “good strawberry milk today.”

If you had to do another member’s makeup, he acted like you personally betrayed him.

He’d slump in his chair, mumbling things like, “Why does Sunghoon need you today? He has three stylists.” Or, “You’re supposed to be with me first.”

The members definitely knew. Jake always smirked at you. Ni-ki teased Heeseung constantly. Sunoo giggled every time he saw you walk in. Your friend — Jungwon’s makeup artist — was the only staff member who knew everything.

One night, after another award show, the staff was invited to an afterparty. You and your friend got ready together at your place, both wearing dresses that were way nicer than anything you usually wore to work.

“Heeseung’s going to be impressed by your outfit tonight,” she teased as she curled your hair.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed anyway. You did kind of want him to notice. When you arrived at the party, the two of you paused by the entrance.

“We look hot,” your friend giggled.

You nudged her playfully before your eyes drifted across the room — right to Enhypen and their managers.

And right to Heeseung.

He was mid-conversation with Jay when he saw you. His eyes slowly dragged down your dress, then back up, and he bit back a smile before letting a smug, shameless smirk spread across his face.

“Someone noticed you,” your friend whispered, elbowing you.

Later that night, after grabbing drinks, you went to the bathroom. When you stepped out, you nearly jumped.

“Heeseung—! Geez, you scared me, Hee…” you exhaled, hand to your chest.

He didn’t apologise. He just smirked, glancing up and down the hallway to check if anyone was around.

Then he leaned in a little, voice low.

“You look good.”