You’d known them since ninth grade—eight loud, chaotic boys who somehow became your family before you even realized it.

When they started pursuing music seriously, they moved into an apartment with too many leftovers, too many hoodies lying around, and too many inside jokes. They insisted on having a room for you too.

“You’re basically our ninth member,” Chan told you. And it was true. You slept there as often as you slept at home.

Life got busy after graduation. The boys were swallowed up by auditions, rehearsals, evaluations. You drowned yourself in volleyball practices and tournaments.

And somewhere in between it all, you started dating someone.

He was nice. Kind. Gentle. The boys met him. They teased him, tested him, eventually approved him.

Everything was going well. Safe. Normal.

One evening you went out for dinner and he offered to walk you home. The boys weren’t home, so you both stopped for coffee, sat too close, smiled too soft—and one thing led to another.

You had been careful. Protected. Responsible.

Or so you thought.

Two weeks later, the pain started. A dull ache in your lower abdomen that normally announced your period. You took painkillers. Nothing. Hot water bottle. Nothing.

Then the thought hit you like a crash. What if…

Hands trembling, you bought a test. Waited. Stared at the lines that appeared far too quickly.

Positive.

Your vision blurred. Your stomach dropped. But this time, not from nausea.

You didn’t tell the boys yet. You needed confirmation—needed to know with certainty that you weren’t losing your mind.

The gynecologist appointment felt like walking into a storm barefoot.

“You’re about ten days along,” she said gently after the exam. “And… there are two gestational sacs.”

You blinked. Twice. Three times.

“Twins?” Your voice didn’t sound like yours.

She nodded.

By the time you left the clinic, the world felt different. Heavier. Quieter. Scarier.

That evening, you stood at the apartment door, heart pounding against your ribs. The boys were laughing inside—Seungmin bickering with Jeongin, Felix singing something loudly and off-key, Changbin yelling at Hyunjin to stop stealing his snacks.

For the first time, you felt like an outsider in your own home.

But you walked in, sat through dinner, barely tasting a bite. The boys noticed—of course they did—but nobody pressed you. You were all tired, all winding down.

After the plates were cleared, Chan stretched. “You okay? You’re quiet today.”

Your throat tightened.

All eight pairs of eyes turned to you.

This was it.

“Guys…” Your voice quivered. “I need to tell you something. And I need you not to freak out.”

Han leaned forward, worried. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting in your lap.

“I’m pregnant.” A breath. “And… it’s twins.”

Silence slammed into the room.

Hyunjin blinked like he didn’t process the words. Lee Know’s jaw tightened. Seungmin sat up straighter. Felix reached for your hand without thinking. I.N looked like he forgot how to breathe. Changbin cursed under his breath. Chan’s eyes softened instantly. Han’s went glossy with fear for you.

Then everything happened at once.

“Are you okay?” “Were you alone?” “Did he pressure you?” “Where is he?” “Do you need anything?” “Does your stomach hurt?” “Did you eat?”

Their voices layered, tripping over each other.

Chan finally raised a hand. “Guys— stop. She’s overwhelmed.”

He knelt beside you, speaking softly. “You’re not alone. Not now, not ever. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

You nodded, tears silently slipping down your cheeks—not from fear this time, but from relief.

Felix hugged you first. Then Jeongin. Then all of them, piling around you until you could barely breathe.

Your family since ninth grade. Your biggest annoyances. Your safest place.