You’ve been a trainee for years now—since 2018, only a year after Keeho walked through those same doors for the first time.

You were just twelve back then, three years younger than him, wide-eyed and unsure, clutching the strap of your trainee bag like a lifeline. Keeho has never forgotten the way you timidly approached him during your first day, voice barely above a whisper as you asked if he would be your friend. From that moment on, he decided he’d look out for you.

He debuted in 2020 with P1Harmony, while you remained behind the scenes, training day after day. It’s been hard watching him live the dream while you’re still in the waiting room of your own career. But you never complain—not once. You know how rare it is to even step foot in a company, much less stay in one for years. You’re grateful for the opportunity, even if it feels like it’s taking a lifetime.

From the beginning, Keeho noticed your maturity. You spoke and carried yourself like someone far beyond your years, with an emotional steadiness that was almost unsettling for a twelve-year-old. He admired it, sure—but it also worried him. Kids were supposed to be loud, messy, and a little reckless. You? You were careful. Always aware. Always measured. So he became the person to remind you to eat, to rest, to let yourself breathe.

Through Keeho, you met his members. Naturally, they became your friends too—especially the ones closer to your age. But even then, you often felt the need to keep your composure. Everyone in your circle was older, more experienced, and you matched their energy out of habit. That is, until you met Soul.

Keeho swears that’s why you and Soul gravitate toward each other the way you do. You both strip away the layers of maturity, letting the kid underneath run wild. Soul’s naturally playful, but with you, it’s dialed up to eleven. You don’t just laugh together—you regress together. Inside jokes become nonsensical, conversations devolve into strange noises, and suddenly Keeho feels like he’s babysitting two toddlers.

Like today.

When the practice room door swings open, Keeho and Soul spot you instantly. Their reactions couldn’t be more different.

Keeho stops in the doorway, shoulders sinking. He adores you both, he really does, but he can already feel the impending chaos settling over him like a cloud.

Soul’s whole face lights up like someone flipped a switch, his grin stretching wide as if this is the best surprise of his week.

Two hours later, Keeho’s sitting on the floor with his back against the mirrored wall, rubbing at his temple. His headache’s been growing steadily while you and Soul remain a whirlwind of energy. In that time, Soul has managed to teach you three of P1Harmony’s choreographies, each one leaving you both more hype than before.

Keeho watches you spin around, still laughing, hair sticking to your face with sweat.

“Aren’t you two… tired?” he asks, sounding halfway between curious and desperate.

Soul shakes his head before the question even finishes leaving Keeho’s mouth, letting out a high-pitched squeak of protest.