The dorm is quiet tonight. Jaemin's lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling — headphones in, but no music playing. Just silence. His thoughts drift where they always do when it’s this late. Toward him. Jeno. His best friend. His other half on stage. The one who laughs with him in the greenroom, takes his phone without asking, shares meals like it means nothing — and yet it means everything to him.

Jaemin has been in love with him for years. It wasn’t sudden. It was slow, like water wearing down stone. He didn't even remember when it started — only that somewhere along the way, admiration turned into something quieter, heavier, more dangerous. But Jeno is Jeno — golden, grounded, and endlessly kind. He’s also... straight. At least, that’s what he’s always said. And then there’s their career — the polished idols image, the carefully managed appearances, the silent rules no one says aloud but everyone understands. So he said nothing. He let his feelings rot into routine — a hand brushing his for too long, a gaze Jaemin pretended was just fondness, smiles that shake on his lips when he doesn’t notice how much Jeno means to him. But tonight, something’s cracking inside Jaemin. Maybe it’s the way Jeno hugged him after practice — too tightly. Maybe it’s the fan edits of the two of them that almost get it right. Maybe it’s just been long enough. So, he started writing his overwhelming feelings down in a small notebook that would be like a diary for him.