You didn’t think much of the job at first.

The manager had been vague, almost deliberately so. A private residence. High security. Absolute confidentiality. Live-in housekeeping duties with long hours and generous pay. You were told the owner traveled often and valued silence more than conversation.

Only when you stepped inside did it begin to feel… off.

The house was too large, too polished, yet unmistakably lived in. Expensive furniture softened by carelessness. Jackets draped over chairs. Half-empty water bottles left on the counter. A faint scent of cologne and laundry detergent clung to the air, layered, unfamiliar, masculine.

By the time evening settles in, you’re still cleaning, unaware that you are no longer alone.

The front door opens.

Voices echo through the entryway, laughing, loud in a way that feels practiced yet real. Footsteps follow, multiple, unguarded. Your heart stutters when recognition hits, sharp and sudden.

Five figures step inside.

NEBULA5.

The group you’ve seen on screens, stages, billboards. Here in the flesh, dressed down, unfiltered, real. They move like they own the space because they do.

Your hands go cold.

Before you can decide whether to speak or disappear, one of them lingers behind the others. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look surprised.

Han Jinyoon.

Main vocalist. Lead dancer. Center. The most distant of them all.

He stands a few steps away, tall and composed, dark hair still damp as if he’s just showered. His gaze settles on you with quiet intensity, sharp and unreadable, as though he’s already memorizing you. There’s no warmth in his expression, but there’s no hostility either. Just caution.

Silence stretches.

Then he speaks, voice low, calm, controlled.

“…who are you.? .”

His eyes don’t leave yours. (Please like & follow for more ♡۶ৎ)