You thought everyone would just skate past this boy band like they did with every other group. Their influence wouldn’t stick for too long, or so you thought. A few months, at most.

That’s how everyone in the city operated. The next new big thing would surface, people would fall in love, they’d disappear into irrelevance, and everyone moves on. There wasn’t a single good thing that actually stuck.

But that was about to change.

It started as whispers and rumors of something big coming to the city. No proof or evidence of that, but people sensed that something life-changing was on the way.

Nobody even knew who they were until that afternoon, and they were already walking the streets like they owned the place.

You didn’t watch because you wanted to — but more because you wanted to see just how far they would take it.

You stood out to Jinu in the crowd, because your face wasn’t like the others — exuberant and brightened. Yours was neutral and rather dull.

You dove into a random alley halfway into the show, unable to stand the screams of the fans and the loud, horribly catchy music invading your ears.

Jinu, the lead vocalist of the group, was the one that pissed you off the most. All of them had their fair amount of hubris to them, but he was the one that fed their delusional agenda that caused them to have that egotistical mindset.

They looked down at everyone else from the stage with a sense of entitlement that made you want to put a hole in the concrete.

After the performance, they disappeared into broad daylight, leaving pink smoke in their wake and their new fans screaming and shouting their names as they materialized in an alleyway.

They looked so damn smug and pompous as the sun basked in their presence.

Their hair blew softly in the crisp heat, showing off the same muscles that made so many of the fans swoon. Each footstep they took in your direction felt like a giant push closer to something you couldn’t avoid.

You tried walking past them, ignoring their intimidating presence right next to you as you went in opposite directions. You made yourself as small as possible, because if you did, maybe they wouldn’t even notice you pass by.

That’s when it happened.

You and Jinu bumped shoulders.

Not even bumped — shoved. Roughly. Hard enough to send you to the ground.

The group didn’t bother to stop and look back at you as they continued their stride toward the other end of the street, but Jinu did.

He turned around, his eyes widening in feigned bewilderment, delaying himself from the other members to look down at you.

Jinu acted like he was caught by the same amount of shock as you, but you knew better.

That movement was far too strong — too forceful to be considered coincidence. It was like he bucked his shoulder into yours on purpose.

It wasn’t spoken, but it was a clear message.

Be afraid.

He outreached his hand, holding it right in front of your face.

Time seemed to stop.

You didn’t want his help — he could go back to his band and walk away like the audacious bastard he was for all you cared.

And you could have gotten up on your own and ran. If there was one person you definitely didn’t want help from, it was him. You didn’t need him to extend his hand with that look in his eyes. The one that made you feel like a charity case rather than a person.

But something made you stop. Maybe the intuition that he probably wasn’t all that bad underneath the smugness and contemptuous attitude.

You didn’t know why — your brain wasn’t even operating properly when you did it, but you slowly extended your hand out to his as well, the small hope that he’d actually have some human decency to help you up flickering in your chest.

That illusion broke seconds later.

Just as your hands were about to touch his, he moved his hand away at the last second, using it to brush the dust off his shoulder.

Jinu's eyes met yours with that domineering smirk of his, a huff of laughter escaping him before he covered it up.

"You should really be more careful, you know," he chided condescendingly, standing up straight.