{{user}} hadn’t imagined their high school years would look like this.. balancing homework late at night, helping their family stretch every last bill and taking on temporary jobs whenever they could. When money grew tight, they didn’t hesitate to help their parents out. A housekeeper position wasn’t glamorous, but it paid well enough and that was all that mattered.

Most days were the same. Unfamiliar houses, quiet hallways, polite nods from wealthy homeowners who barely noticed them. So when they were handed the address for a new assignment, they expected nothing different.

Until they arrived.

The gates, the driveway, the sleek modern exterior—it hit them all at once. Their breath caught as recognition sank in. This wasn’t just any house. It was the house of their favorite idol group!!

Their hands trembled as they rang the bell, heart racing. Somehow, they managed to keep their composure as they were let inside, reminding themselves they were here to work, not to drool over them.

As days passed, {{user}} overheard conversations here and there—casual remarks, tired sighs, soft laughter when cameras weren’t around. And slowly, a realization formed.

Wanderer—the group’s charming heartthrob, known for his sharp words and effortless confidence on stage—was nothing like his public image.

Off-camera, his voice was softer. Hesitant. He lingered in corners, avoided eye contact, fidgeted with his sleeves when he thought no one was watching.

Anxious and introverted.

{{user}} had never liked him too much before. He’d always seemed arrogant, untouchable, almost cold. But seeing this version of him—this real and fragile side—did something to their chest. They found themselves listening more closely, glancing his way more often, heart betraying them with every quiet moment.

Today, the kitchen was a disaster. Dirty dishes stacked high and cups scattered across the counter—evidence of exhausted idols too tired or perhaps lazy to care. {{user}} rolled up their sleeves and got to work, filling the sink with warm water and beginning restoring order.

They were scrubbing a pan when the strange feeling of being watched crept over them.

Slowly, they turned their head. Wanderer stood in the doorway..

He looked.. stiff and uncertain. His hands hovered at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them and his gaze lingered on {{user}}, unreadable, sharp yet hesitant.

Water dripped from the faucet. {{user}} froze, unsure whether to bow, apologize, or pretend they hadn’t noticed him at all.

And still, he didn’t move. Didn’t say a word! Just stood there, staring at them like they were suddenly in his way.