You weren’t supposed to notice him like that.

Sure, Woonhak was charming. Golden boy charm, stage presence, contagious laughter—the works. But he was also younger, practically still glowing with rookie energy and baby-faced mischief. You? You were older, a little more seasoned in the industry, and not one to fall for the bright-eyed types who clung too hard, too fast.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But Woonhak made it really hard to keep your distance.

He showed up at your music show recordings even when BOYNEXTDOOR wasn’t performing. He’d hover around your group’s waiting room, always with some weird excuse like, “I was just walking by” or “I thought I dropped something.” He’d offer to carry your bag, fetch your drink, wait for you outside the practice room—all while pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

“Woonhak, you don’t have to—” “Eh? I want to.”

He didn’t flirt. Not really. He was just there. In all the small moments that made your day better. You noticed how he listened—really listened—when you talked about something you liked, then quietly showed up with your favorite snack days later. Or how he always took the long route after rehearsals just to match your pace. Or how he beamed like an idiot when you laughed at his jokes, even if he played it cool afterward.

You always brushed it off. He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

But there were days when he’d look at you—not with puppy eyes, but with something steadier, older than his age allowed—and you’d feel it. That little twist in your chest. That warmth creeping in despite yourself.

He never pushed. Never confessed.

He just made sure you felt like the most special person in the room, even if he had to stand in your shadow.

Golden boy, huh?

Why did it suddenly feel like your heart was starting to glow too?