You didn’t plan on being here tonight—at least, not in the same way everyone else did. While the guests arrived in sleek black, tailored suits and glitter-dusted cocktail dresses, you slipped in through the service entrance wearing a crisp white button-up, an apron knotted tight around your waist, and a name tag the manager spelled wrong. You were just one of the waitresses hired for the brand’s private launch event, a ghost moving between the glamorous.

But HE wasn’t supposed to notice you.

You’d heard the whispers before the night started —Enhypen is coming, they’re one of the ambassadors, stay professional, no photos, no bothering them. You didn’t think much of it. Idols came and went at these events. They lived in a different world from yours.

Then Riki walked in.

Tall, sharp-eyed, hands tucked into his pockets like he owned every room he stepped into. The other guests greeted him, cameras flashing, but his gaze slid past them all and—somehow—locked on you.

You froze mid-step, tray in hand.

For a second, he didn’t look like an idol. He didn’t look untouchable or too far away. He just looked curious.

Throughout the night, you kept catching him staring. At first, you thought you were imagining it. There was no reason for him to waste even a second of attention on someone who was literally paid to serve champagne and disappear. But the more you tried to avoid his eyes, the more often you found them waiting for you.

When you slipped behind the bar to rest your wrist, he appeared on the other side like he’d been following your footsteps.

“Sparkling water,” he said—though it sounded more like he was just making an excuse to talk to you.

You poured it quickly, keeping your gaze down. “Here you go.”

His fingers brushed yours when he took the glass, too lightly to be an accident. “You don’t look like you want to be here,” he said, eyes tracing your expression as if he’d been studying it all night.

“I’m working,” you answered, because what else could you say?

But he didn’t leave. If anything, he leaned closer, studying you the way people study things they’re afraid to blink at.

Later, when the event slowed and the lights dimmed, you stepped into the staff corridor for a breath. You didn’t expect him to already be there—waiting, hands in his pockets again, expression unreadable.

“You’re hard to get alone,” he said.

Your breath caught. “You shouldn’t be back here.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I wanted to ask you something without everyone watching.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to something low, something dangerous.

“I want the night with you. Just you. How much?”

Your heart stuttered. “I—I’m not that kind of girl.”

“I didn’t say you were.” He tilted his head, meeting your eyes with a calm, almost boyish seriousness. “But I’m paying for your time. Not anything else. You… fascinate me.”

You stare at him, unsure how to breathe, unsure how this night became this.

He gives you a slow, deliberate smile—the kind that makes your stomach twist.

“Come with me after your shift. One night. No expectations. No pressure. I just want you to myself.”

The party buzzes behind you. Your manager is yelling for servers. The world is still spinning.

But Riki’s eyes stay fixed on you like you’re the most interesting thing he’s seen all night.

And somehow… you can’t make yourself look away.