The rehearsal room buzzed with energy as the members of LOVE2 prepared for their upcoming performance. Siwon stood at the edge, her heart pounding. The pain in her foot was a constant reminder of her limitations, but she refused to let it show.
"Alright, let's run through the choreography from the top," Leo announced, his tone sharp.
Siwon took her position, trying to ignore the throbbing in her foot. As the music started, she moved with precision, each step calculated to minimize the strain. Despite her efforts, a misstep caused her to stumble.
"Focus, Siwon," Leo snapped. "We can't afford mistakes."
Embarrassed, Siwon nodded, pushing through the pain. She caught a glimpse of Sim Jae watching her, his expression unreadable. Was it concern? Disapproval? She couldn't tell.
During a short break, Ryan approached her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she lied.
He looked at her skeptically. "You don't have to push yourself so hard."
"I have to keep up. I can't let them down."
Ryan nodded slowly. "Just don't forget to take care of yourself."
As the rehearsal continued, Siwon found herself stealing glances at Sim Jae. There was something about him that drew her in, despite his aloof demeanor. But Ryan's kindness was a comforting presence, a contrast to Sim Jae's mystery.
Later, as the group wrapped up for the day, Siwon sat alone, massaging her aching foot. Sim Jae approached her, offering a bottle of water.
"You did well today," he said.
Surprised, she looked up. "Thanks."
He hesitated, then added, "Just be careful. Don't push too hard."
She nodded, watching as he walked away. Her heart fluttered, but confusion lingered. What did his words mean?
As she gathered her things, Ryan appeared beside her. "Need a ride?"
She smiled. "That would be great."
As they walked out together, Siwon couldn't help but wonder where her heart was leading her. The path ahead was uncertain, but she was ready to face it, one step at a time.
___
The studio lights beamed down steadily, bathing the room in an artificial glow. The tempo of the song pounded through the floorboards, matching the racing beat of my heart. I was three counts behind, one breath short, and a full measure off rhythm. My foot — though healed — protested with every stomp.
"I need a break," I gasped, placing a hand on my knee.
Shiaan rushed over and lowered her voice, "Are you okay?"
I nodded, barely. "It's the same move — my body knows it, but it hurts every time I land."
"Want me to tell them you need out?"
"No," I said firmly, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince. "I can't lose this project. This is... LOVE2."
I made my way to the corner, dragging my leg slightly. Just as I lowered myself onto the floor, Ryan approached. His sweat-damp hair clung to his forehead, and his white shirt was half tucked, half rebellious. He crouched beside me.
"Your foot's hurting," he said. It wasn't a question.
"I'm fine," I replied too quickly.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You looked like you were about to collapse."
"I said I'm—" I stopped. My hair, damp with sweat, had snagged on something. I turned slightly — and froze.
My strands were caught on one of the tiny buttons of Ryan's shirt.
Great. Just great.
"Don't move," I muttered.
He tilted his head, then noticed it. "Huh. I guess I'm literally stuck with you."
"Not funny," I said under my breath, reaching up to untangle it, but every tug seemed to pull us closer.
He didn't flinch. In fact, he leaned just slightly toward me.
"Want me to handle it?" His voice dropped lower. Softer.
I looked up — a mistake. His eyes were dark, glinting with that infuriating mix of amusement and interest.
"Don't," I warned, but he was already reaching up, brushing his fingers just beneath my jaw as he carefully worked my hair loose. The graze of his fingertips sent a shiver down my spine.
"You know," he murmured, "for someone so stubborn, you're kind of fragile."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
He smirked. "Makes me wonder what it'd take to break you."
The breath hitched in my throat — and not from the foot pain this time.
I pulled back instinctively, but the hair still clung to his button.
"You're still stuck," he whispered. "Looks like you'll have to let me finish."
"You're doing it on purpose."
"Maybe," he said with a wink, "but only because I enjoy watching you squirm."
Before I could retort, the studio door flung open.
"Yo!" Seojun called out, walking in with a bottle of water in hand. "The next set is ready, let's—" He paused.
Jiwoo came in right behind him. Her eyes locked onto Ryan — and me, still tangled up in the most compromising angle imaginable.
"Oh," Jiwoo muttered. "Interrupting something?"
I jolted back. Ryan sat still as ever, hands now off me, but a small smile playing at his lips like this was a game.
"I—my hair—it got—"
"She tripped and fell into my shirt," Ryan said with a straight face.
I wanted to die.
Jiwoo rolled her eyes and walked off.
"Hyung, you okay?" Leo's voice came from behind.
"Peachy," Ryan said as he stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants.
I stayed seated, cheeks flaming.
He leaned down and whispered, "You owe me another tangle sometime."
"Go stretch or something," I snapped.
"You could just say thank you."
"Thank you," I said sweetly, "for being impossible."
As he walked away, I caught Shiaan watching me from the mirror, one eyebrow arched like she was dying to ask a hundred questions.
I groaned.
"What?" I muttered.
"Oh, nothing," she said, but the smirk said everything.
"Don't."
"I didn't say a word."
I tried to keep my breathing even as Ryan disappeared behind the equipment table. He didn't look back, which made it worse somehow — like the whole thing hadn't affected him at all. Just another playful moment in a long string of teasing. No big deal. No reason for my skin to still feel warm, for my heart to be doing backflips in my chest.
"Hey," Shiaan nudged me with her knee. "You alright?"
I nodded. "Yep. Totally. Great."
"You don't look great."
"Just tired."
She narrowed her eyes. "Just tired. Or just tangled?"
I shot her a glare, but the heat in my face betrayed me.
Across the room, the rest of LOVE2 had begun to reform for the second half of rehearsal. Someone reset the track, and the opening synth buzzed through the speaker. Sim Jae stood near the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of his long hoodie. He was always quiet before a take — not withdrawn, but focused. Watching him now, I couldn't help but notice the way his jaw tensed and relaxed with the beat, how he subtly tapped out the rhythm with his thumb against his thigh.
He glanced up, eyes catching mine in the mirror. Just for a second.
I looked away first.
Great. Now I was being weird about two of them.
"Siwon!" Coach Kim called out. "We'll run it again from the chorus. You okay to jump back in?"
"Yeah," I said quickly, standing. "I've got it."
Ryan was already in place, cracking his knuckles and bobbing in rhythm. He shot me a wink that I tried to ignore.
But Sim Jae...
He didn't smile or tease. He just offered me a slight nod — serious, measured — like he'd seen something in me that even I hadn't. That nod stayed with me longer than Ryan's grin did.
⸻
The music cut out after the third take. Coach Kim clapped his hands. "Better! Let's take a quick five, then reset for camera blocking."
I made my way toward the side benches and plopped down with a thud. My foot ached, but less than before. Adrenaline could do that — dull pain, blur lines, confuse your own heartbeat with someone else's rhythm.
I hadn't even realized Sim Jae had followed until he sat beside me, a few inches of polite distance between us.
"You adjusted the timing," he said without preamble.
I blinked. "What?"
He tilted his head. "The third step in the second chorus. You were off tempo before, but this time, you changed your landing by a beat. It worked."
I looked down at my shoes. "Yeah. It felt better that way."
"Smart," he said simply.
I glanced at him. "You... watch everything, don't you?"
His expression didn't change. "That's my job."
"No, I mean—" I hesitated, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "You notice details. Even the small stuff."
He didn't deny it. Instead, he said, "Small stuff tells the truth."
I let that sit in the air for a moment, absorbing the weight of it.
"I didn't know you thought like that," I murmured.
"You didn't ask."
Something about the way he said it made me wonder what else I hadn't asked. What else he noticed. What he saw when he looked at me.
"Anyway," he said, standing up smoothly, "you're doing better than you think."
Then he walked off, leaving me speechless.
I stared after him, trying to understand why that small conversation had made my heart flutter more than Ryan's finger against my jaw.
Was it his voice? His calm? The way he'd seen me — really seen me — and not just teased or toyed?
Or was I just that hopeless?
"Siwon."
I jumped. Ryan was suddenly beside me again, offering a bottle of water.
"Sorry," he said, his smile lazy. "Didn't mean to sneak up. You looked like you were solving world peace in your head."
"I was just... thinking."
"Dangerous habit." He handed me the water and plopped down next to me, far closer than Sim Jae had.
"You okay?" he asked again, softer this time.
His concern felt real, but I was too tangled in my own thoughts to accept it without suspicion.
"Yeah. Just... tired."
He tilted his head. "Tired like 'need a nap,' or tired like 'overthinking everything'?"
I didn't answer.
Ryan leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping. "You're not like the others."
I turned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're not here to impress anyone. Not pretending. You don't flirt back. You make me work for it." He chuckled. "It's kind of refreshing."
My mouth went dry.
He smiled again, more to himself than at me. "But careful. That kind of honesty makes people look too close."
I opened my mouth to say something — anything — but Coach Kim's whistle blew again.
"Back up! Final run-through!"
Ryan stood and offered a hand. I took it before I could think, and he pulled me to my feet with one swift tug.
His hand lingered half a second too long.
Then he let go, all charm again.
I turned toward the mirror, catching my own expression.
Confused. Flushed. Caught.
And in the reflection, two people behind me: Ryan, still smiling, and Sim Jae, already watching.
One set of eyes amused.
The other unreadable.
And mine?
A complete mess.