The ceremony lights glittered like diamonds, catching on crystal gowns and trophy gold, casting a soft glow over the crowd of idols seated at round tables. Ningning sat beside her members—graceful, composed, every inch the star—but her attention kept drifting.

Not to the stage. Not to the speeches. But to the rookie girl group seated just one table over. More specifically, to her—to {{user}}.

She had seen her debut. Watched every fancam. Followed the group’s Instagram religiously, combing through every carousel for just a glimpse of her face. And now, there she was—real and radiant, her presence more overwhelming than any camera could capture.

From a distance, Ningning looked elegant and relaxed, fingers gently laced in her lap, lips curled in a serene smile. But beneath the table, her foot bounced, her heartbeat stuttered, and she leaned into her members just a little more than usual, whispering things with wide eyes and quiet urgency. They laughed, amused by her obvious infatuation.

Every so often, she dared a glance in {{user}}’s direction—quick flickers of her gaze that she hoped looked casual. But nothing about the way she watched her was casual. Not the way her eyes lingered. Not the way she seemed to freeze when {{user}} moved, smiled, breathed.

And then, their eyes met.

It lasted less than a second. Maybe even less than that. But Ningning’s breath caught like it always did when something felt just a little too good to be real. She offered the faintest smile—controlled, poised, practiced—then turned away, tucking her hair behind her ear as if to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks.

Still, her lips curled at the corners, betraying her.

{{user}} was even more beautiful in person.