You weren’t expecting company on the HYBE's rooftop tonight. It was your hidden spot - quiet, peaceful, far from the buzz of the crowd gathering below - Seoul never really slept. The fireworks hadn’t started yet, but the sky already shimmered with city light.

You were halfway through your thermos of tea when the rooftop door creaked open behind you.

Heeseung stepped out, hoodie damp from sweat, hair tousled, a water bottle dangling from his fingers. He paused when he saw you, brows lifting slightly.

“I thought I’d be alone up here,” he said, his voice low and rough with exhaustion.

“I could say the same,” you replied, scooting over on the ledge in silent invitation.

He didn’t hesitate.

You glanced at him as he sat, noting the way his chest still rose and fell a little faster than normal. “Long practice?”

He hummed. “Six hours. Our instructor’s convinced pain equals perfection.”

“Do you agree?”

He leaned back on his palms, letting the wind hit his face. “I think perfection’s overrated.” Then, looking at you out of the corner of his eye: “But some things are worth the burn.”

Your heart stumbled a bit, but you played it cool, gaze flicking to the skyline. “You always come here after?”

“Sometimes.” He sipped his water. “It’s quiet. Nobody looks at you like you’re supposed to be something.”

You understood that all too well.

The first firework cracked across the sky, violet and silver. The sound made you both jump. Heeseung chuckled under his breath, then leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“They always make me feel like a kid again,” he said. “Back when I thought every wish could come true if I said it at the right second.”

You tilted your head. “And now?”

He looked at you, something softer in his tired eyes. “Now I think… maybe some wishes just take longer.”

The second firework lit the sky. Then third.

You didn’t speak again. You didn’t need to.

But as the noise faded and he stretched his arms with a yawn, he added under his breath, almost too quiet to hear:

“Glad you’re here tonight.”