Chapter Text

Yunjin’s eyes flicker from comment to comment, carefully reading each one. She presses her tongue to her cheek, shaking her head when she comes across something that crosses the line. People had no idea who these strangers really were - just chopped-up edits and a soundtrack cued for maximum drama.

She isn’t even a fan of reality TV. Never was. But she can’t look away from the comment section. There’s a car-crash allure in the way people pick apart moments, psychoanalyze expressions, crown some as villains and others saints. She respects the craft - entertainment in its purest, trashiest form. But that shit is intrusive as fuck.

Consuming this kind of content is one thing. Participating in it is a whole other ball park. For Yunjin, the appeal only works from a spectator’s perspective. Her stomach is already twisting at the thought of her having to step into that frame.

She’s about to scroll again when her phone buzzes against the desk. A name flashes on the lockscreen. Yunjin exhales through her nose, already smirking as she answers.

“Just the person I wanted to speak to.”

“...Wait. Are you being sarcastic?”

She laughs, leaning back in her chair. “No. I’m actually on Reddit right now reading through comments on last year’s finale.”

“Oh, what are the comments like? Super civilized, I’m sure.” His voice drips with sarcasm.

“A few actually have some interesting analyses. But some people are way too attached - calling someone a narcissist, saying people cried crocodile tears. It’s a mess.”

“So the usual.”

“Pretty much. People think they know everything about someone they’ve never met. Kinda cringe.”

“Yet here you are reading every word.”

“Hey, research,” she shoots back, then sighs. “The more I read, the more I wonder if I should even bother with this meeting on Saturday.”

A pause on the other end. “Do you need more time to think about it?”

Yunjin hums, leaning back in her chair. Time wouldn’t make it easier. The pros and cons had been circling her brain like gnats all week. She ticked them off anyway. “Pay’s good. Exposure for my music is good too. But-”

“Let me guess,” he cuts in. “Cohabitating with your annoying ex-boyfriend while you date your housemates with cameras filming every single moment sounds like a total shit storm?”

She chuckles. “If you’d let me finish, you’d know my slightly annoying ex is not the problem. It’s the internet weirdos dissecting my every blink.”

“Right. But that’s kind of the point, no?” He lowers his voice into a mock-sales pitch. “You date in a luxury villa, you get exposure, you leave richer and with a fanbase.”

“Um, I already have a fanbase.”

“Ok, correction: grow your fanbase. You’ve been calling yourself ‘starving artist’ for the last year and half. This is the easy way out.”

“Easy, huh?” She props her chin in her hand. “You’re forgetting the part where strangers clip me out of context to prove whatever hot take they already have.”

“You’re likable,” he insists. “Golden retriever energy. No one hates golden retrievers.”

She barks out a laugh. “Uhh, you’re the golden retriever. Mr. Peanutbutter, remember?”

He groans. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious though. Even if I get a good edit, people will still find reasons to hate. That’s just how it works. And I don’t know if the money’s worth being turned into... discourse.”

A beat of quiet stretches between them. Then, softer: “I get it. Really. I’m worried too. If I look bad, my business tanks. But…” His voice lifts again, gentle, coaxing. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Just… try. Worst case, you regret it and collect a check. Best case, it opens doors.”

Yunjin exhales, letting her head thump lightly against the chair back. She hates when he sounds reasonable.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is. Unless you feel pressured?” He rushes the words, almost tripping over himself. “I swear, I only want to do this if you’re one hundred percent okay with it.”

Yunjin stares at the comment thread still glowing on her screen. A hundred strangers tearing apart people they’ll never meet. And somehow, she’s considering signing up to be one of them.

She sighs. “Yeah. I know.”

Fine. She’d hear them out. She’d spell out every single reservation to the producers on Saturday and let them convince her. If they could promise that it’s worth possibly getting chewed up and spat out like the poor bastards in that Reddit thread, maybe she’d take the gamble.

Maybe.

💌

Day 1 – Thursday, May 3, 2029

By the time Yunjin pulls the rental car into the villa’s driveway, she’s already rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head. Not the dramatic TV moment the producers might be hoping for - just the part where she walks into a house full of strangers and decides, against all her instincts, to let them see her as she is.

Everything here would be filmed. Every laugh, every mistake, every late-night kitchen raid. And once the cameras capture it, she will have no control over what makes the final cut. That used to terrify her. Now she’s convinced herself it is a necessary evil.

Because if being an artist means anything, it is to refuse to hide. Sooner or later people will see her as a public figure whether she likes it or not. Might as well be on her terms, or more correctly, her timeline.

Her meetings with the producers had helped, too. She’d gone in ready to arm herself, ready to argue. But they hadn’t treated her like a character they could shove into a storyline. They actually see her as an actual person with real feelings. A little cynical maybe - she knew the game - but still, she believed them. She believes them. They see her, and her ex, as more than props in some Shakespearean play.

Her phone pings, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Choi Mirae PD-Nim

Yunjin-ssi! We're ready for you to make your entrance. Once you have entered the villa, please leave your suitcase on the first floor and make your way upstairs.

She drags her suitcase up the steep hill, muttering under her breath about the incline. The villa looms ahead, all glass and clean lines, and when she pushes through the front door she lets out an audible gasp. “Damn. Place is huge,” she whispers, craning her neck at the ceiling.

Excitement fizzes in her chest.

This - the adventure part - she was looking forward to. Meeting new people, cramming together in a house like some overgrown summer camp. Not for love - no matter how many times producers tried nudging her with coy smiles. No. She was here for music, money, and maybe some new besties who shared her sense of humor or wouldn’t mind blasting late-night playlists.

She grins, running a hand through her hair to smooth it down before anyone sees her. This was going to be chaos, sure. But the kind of chaos she could live with.

She drags her suitcase into the foyer, noting the two others already parked neatly by the stairs. Voices float down from above - light, polite laughter - and Yunjin straightens, palms smoothing down her shirt. Time to make her entrance.

Two heads lean over the railing as she appears at the top. A woman with striking doe eyes, her long hair pulled back in a glossy tail, and a man with boy-ish features framed by an oversized button down. Both blink at her, almost in unison.

“Hello!” they say together.

Yunjin beams back. “Hello!” She chooses the larger couch - halfway between them, so no one feels cornered - and drops into it with practiced casualness.

“What is your name?” the woman asks first, her accent lilting.

“Oh! I’m Huh Yunjin,” she says, careful with each syllable.

“Huh-yun-jin,” they repeat, tentative but earnest.

She nods encouragingly. “Perfect.”

The woman smiles faintly. “I am Miyawaki Sakura.”

“I am Nishimura Riki,” the man follows, shy but steady.

They’re both smiling, but Yunjin can sense the slight stiffness in their shoulders, the polite pause before each word. Shy types.

She leans forward, elbows on her knees, and throws them an easy ice breaker. “Are you both Japanese?”

They’re both already nodding, but Yunjin quickly interjects. "Oops! Am I allowed to ask that?"

Sakura’s laugh comes out high and surprised. "I think it's allowed? Plus, I think it's a little obvious with our names."

Yunjin chuckles. “Good point.”

"But to clarify, I am Japanese.”

“So am I. And you’re Korean?” Riki asks.

Yunjin nods. “Yes. I’m Korean.”

Riki nods then reaches over the coffee table to pick up an envelope, handing it to her. "I think these are the rules so far."

Yunjin thanks him and slides the card free.

The producers had drilled the first four into them during casting, practically chanting them like commandments. Seeing them printed again is a reminder: this isn’t just a weird experiment. It’s a tightly wound TV production where every slip can become a storyline.

She drops the card back into the envelope. “These all seem doable."

💌

The group had settled into an easy circle, couches facing inward like a campfire without flames. Each new arrival meant another round of names, another awkward laugh as they all fumbled through first impressions. Yunjin didn’t mind; she liked the tiny details that came with watching strangers meet - who plopped down without hesitation, who lingered on the edges scanning the room.

She watches the new arrivals with quiet fascination, cataloguing details without even meaning to: Soobin’s calm, almost teacherly patience as he listens; Kazuha’s graceful posture even when she’s just slouching into a chair; Yeonjun’s restless energy, always shifting in his seat.

“It looks like almost everyone’s here,” Yeonjun says, glancing toward the stairwell. “Think the last one’s a man or a woman?”

“A woman,” several voices chime in at once.

He blinks, caught off guard. “Really? I thought-”

Sakura cuts in, eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re a man without prejudice, Yeonjun-ssi.”

The room breaks into laughter, and Yeonjun rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Guess so.”

Yunjin laughs with the others, the tension loosening even further. She hadn’t expected to feel this settled so quickly, surrounded by strangers who already feel like future friends. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Footsteps on the stairs cut through the laughter. Heads turned in unison. The last contestant had arrived. Yunjin leans forward, curious, her body warm with the same easy comfort she’s felt all evening.

Then the new arrival speaks.

“Hello.”

The word is soft, even, and it detonates something in her chest.

Her breath stutters. Her whole body goes still, eyes locked on the crown of dark, glossy hair making its way up the stairs.

That voice. Polite. Even. Familiar enough to stop her breath cold.

Her brain blanks, limbs heavy. By the time Chaewon lifts her head and bows politely, Yunjin’s lungs have forgotten how to work.

That face - once burned into the deepest corners of her mind, and held the power to magically brighten an otherwise shitty day. A face that she resented, that she spent months trying to erase, and eventually did.

Her chest aches with the whiplash of it. The sight of Chaewon feels impossible - like she’s watching some late-night rerun of her own life, but this time she’s trapped inside it. What in the Truman Show mind-fuck is this?

For a few seconds, she’s completely frozen. Not the casual curiosity everyone else is projecting, but the kind of stillness that comes from being blindsided in the gut. She can feel it on her own face - wide eyes, clenched jaw - and panics. Do I look obvious? Can they tell something’s wrong?

Chaewon’s expression gives nothing away. Smooth, almost bored composure as she bows lightly, as if she hasn’t just detonated a landmine in Yunjin’s chest.

“What is your name?” Jongseong asks, oblivious.

“I am Kim Chaewon.”

The sound of it hits harder than the sight. Yunjin forces her mouth into a faint smile, but it wavers as the group takes turns repeating their names. She registers Jongseong, Kazuha, Soobin, Yeonjun, Sakura, Riki - one after the other - but the rhythm blurs, background noise to the thundering in her ears.

When the circle lands on her, Yunjin’s voice comes out thinner than she’d like. “I’m Huh Yunjin.”

“Huh-yun-jin-nim,” Chaewon repeats carefully, syllable by syllable, like she’s testing out an unfamiliar word.

Yunjin isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry. Once, she’d ached to hear Chaewon say her name again. Now it lands like a scalpel, precise and detached.

Her eyes flick toward Chaewon again despite herself. She catches the blunt black bob - sharp where her hair had once been soft waves dyed in restless colors. Grapefruit red, strawberry blonde, baby pink. Yunjin had watched all of those phases up close, had joked she’d date her through the whole fruit basket. Now the jet-black cut makes her look older, sharper. Refined. And, Yunjin can’t deny, more beautiful than ever.

It makes her furious that she notices.

Because she knows too much - the glint in her eye when you laugh at her silly jokes, the exact pitch her voice slips into when she’s tired, how she’ll push food to the side of her plate if she doesn’t like it but doesn’t want to offend anyone. She knows these things, and she can’t show it, not here. Not now.

Early in the breakup, Yunjin had imagined this moment a thousand ways. Running into Chaewon on the street. Seeing her in a cafe. Maybe even working up the courage to say everything left unsaid. But this? Trapped in a villa with cameras rolling, forced into politeness while the girl who broke her heart looked through her like a stranger?

And maybe that was what stung most: Chaewon seemed unfazed. Perfectly composed, not even a flicker out of place. If she was acting, she was doing it flawlessly.

Meanwhile, Yunjin sat there trying to remember how to look normal.

It feels like theft. Like the universe robbed her of a reunion that should have belonged to them alone.

Fine, she tells herself, forcing her gaze away. If Chaewon can act unbothered, so can she.

Strangers it is.

💌

💌

Chaewon keeps her expression neutral as the group circles up at the bottom of the stairs, but inside her chest everything is jittering - shallow breaths, pulse running ahead of her. She tells herself it isn’t a panic attack, not really, just her brain struggling to catch up to the fact that Yunjin is here. Here, laughing and chatting like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

What rattles her more is Yunjin.

When she’d walked in, Yunjin had smiled easily, introduced herself, even teased a little. Now, as they play a game to assign their rooms, she’s joking with Kazuha as though she’s entirely at ease. It makes Chaewon feel unmoored. How could Yunjin seem so natural while she’s barely holding it together? Did the producers know? Did they throw them both in here, knowing their history, praying for fireworks to make good TV? The thought makes her skin prickle.

“Scissors, paper, rock!” Yunjin calls, throwing her fist against Kazuha’s.

Chaewon forces a small smile as Kazuha groans dramatically at her loss, while Yunjin smirks, clearly enjoying the moment. Everyone chuckles, and the tension in the group loosens again. Everyone but Chaewon, whose stomach twists tighter.

Sakura, who had won the first pick, tilts her head toward the staircase. “I’d like the second floor,” she says.

All eyes swing to Chaewon - her turn. Logic tells her to pick the first floor - her suitcase feels like it’s packed with bricks, and the thought of dragging it up a flight of stairs is absurd. But the faint, impossible possibility of being paired with Yunjin… her body makes the decision before her brain can argue.

“The second floor for me as well,” she says quickly.

Sakura smiles at her, as though relieved. “Then we’ll be roommates.”

Chaewon returns the smile, though it feels brittle on her face.

When the time comes to lug her suitcase upstairs, she barely makes it halfway before her arm aches. She mutters a curse under her breath and braces herself for another heave when Kazuha jogs up behind her.

“Let’s lift it together!”

Chaewon exhales, relieved. “Thank you.”

Kazuha grins easily, and for a split second Chaewon envies how light the younger woman seems, as if none of this weighs on her at all. Yunjin, she notices, is still at the bottom of the stairs with her own bag, chatting as she offers to roll Kazuha’s luggage too, smiling like she’s completely unfazed. The sight makes Chaewon’s chest burn.

By the time she and Sakura reach their room, Chaewon’s palms are slick against the suitcase handle. She forces another polite smile as Sakura sets her things down.

“So… how do you feel so far?” Sakura asks gently.

Chaewon swallows. A half-honest answer seems safest. “Nervous. It’s… a lot to take in at once.”

Sakura tilts her head, studying her, maybe sensing the distraction Chaewon is working so hard to mask. Chaewon clears her throat and gestures at her suitcase. “I think I’ll start unpacking, just to settle in a bit.”

“Of course,” Sakura says with an encouraging smile. “I’ll give you some space.”

Chaewon watches her leave before dragging her suitcase into the wardrobe. She starts hanging clothes one by one - robotic, methodical. Each motion buys her a few seconds of quiet. Her mind races anyway.

The shock of seeing Yunjin had been so sharp she half-believed, for one terrible moment, that she was looking at a ghost. In some ways, that would’ve been easier. A ghost you can scream at, throw something at, run from. An ex-girlfriend? With cameras recording? There’s no script for that.

“This is crazy,” she mutters under her breath, laughing once at the absurdity.

“What’s crazy?”

Chaewon’s head jerks up. Sakura is leaning casually on the doorframe, curiosity written across her face.

“Oh. Just… I can’t believe I’m actually here.” Chaewon scratches at the back of her neck, forcing a sheepish smile.

“Same,” Sakura replies. “I think it’ll take a few days to adjust.”

“Maybe longer for me,” Chaewon admits, and they both laugh softly, though hers sounds a little frayed at the edges.

“Oh, that’s right-” Sakura clicks her fingers. “Soobin said the grocery team is leaving soon. I came to let you know.”

“Thank you. I’ll finish up here and head out,” Chaewon says quickly, glad for the excuse.

When Sakura leaves, Chaewon exhales and rests her forehead briefly against the wardrobe door. Maybe spending time with the others would help. If she could bury herself in small talk, in ordinary rhythms - grocery shopping, cooking, laughing with strangers - maybe her mind would quiet down.

At least enough to stop feeling like the whole house was built just to corner her.

💌

“I hope they don’t take too long. I don’t know how many more of these I can eat before I feel sick,” Jongseong says as he unwraps another piece of candy.

The candy bowl on the coffee table has gotten a good dent within the first hour. Yunjin watches absentmindedly as Yeonjun crumples another wrapper.

“I’ll try to entertain you. Ask me something,” Yeonjun says.

“Alright,” Jongseong says, leaning back with a grin. “Serious question. Do you like cat-faces or dog-faces?”

Sakura blinks, tilting her head. “Cat-faces?”

Yeonjun chuckles. “It’s a Korean thing. Some people’s features look sharper, cat-like. Others are softer, rounder, more open. Dog-like.” He gestures vaguely between himself and Yunjin. “Personality can match too. Cats are independent, harder to read. Dogs are like… dogs.”

Sakura laughs. “I prefer dog, both face and personality.”

“Cat personality for me,” Yeonjun says, tapping his chest. “They’re more my style.”

“I think I like dog-faces,” Jongseong says. “Personality-wise, I’m not sure. It depends on the chemistry.”

All eyes drift to Yunjin, who realizes a beat too late she hasn’t been listening. She’s been staring through the candy bowl, lost in the white noise of wrappers crackling and voices overlapping.

“Yunjin-ssi?” Sakura prompts gently.

She blinks, cheeks heating as she finds the whole group waiting. Great. Exactly the kind of moment that could end up clipped into an episode with some subtitle about her zoning out.

“Uh, sorry,” she stammers, rubbing at her forehead. “Totally lost in my own thoughts.”

Jongseong smirks. “Were you making a pros and cons list about candy?”

The room bursts into laughter, Yunjin included, though her smile feels wobbly.

Inside, her mind is already spiraling.

She’d had a plan - a carefully sketched game board before she ever walked into this house. Then Chaewon walked in, and every neatly arranged strategy scattered like dominoes.

And yes, of course Huh Yunjin had a game plan coming into this. As much as she had faith in the mutual respect and warmth she and her ex had for each other, she needed verbally established boundaries to keep her sanity intact.

So two weeks ago, they sat in the cute coffee shop around the corner from her studio and easily came to an agreement: they would be polite but distant in front of others, give the other as much space as possible to freely interact with other housemates, and be each other’s confidant if needed.

Yunjin felt so smug after that meeting and thought she was so clever to think of doing it without the producer’s knowledge, so it seemed that the universe had decided to humble her.

If she could right now, she would verbally curse at her arrogance and then at Chaewon for causing this inconvenience.

That’s all she was to her at this point. A hindrance that has added an extra set of tasks to her master plan, the task being to discreetly observe her to figure out where she stood. All this to say that Yunjin was just annoyed at not being given the heads-up and definitely did not have any other strong, unresolved feelings toward said hindrance.

Now all she can think about is adjusting, rebalancing, rewriting the script on the fly. And everyone else is just laughing about cat-faces and dog-faces, as if the ground hasn’t tilted sideways under her.

💌

By the time they return from the grocery run, Chaewon feels lighter. Maybe it’s the fresh air or the distraction of moving through aisles with Kazuha, Riki and Soobin, debating snack brands and arguing over tomatoes. Maybe it’s just the simple relief of having something to do.

Kazuha had turned out to be easy company - bright and grounded, someone who shared her love for simple food done well. They’d bonded over the horror of instant coffee and a shared reverence for kimchi pancakes. It had been… nice.

Now, back in the villa, as she helps unpack the groceries, Chaewon finds herself easing into a quiet rhythm. Cleaning and organizing have always been her way to reset - everything finding its place, even when she can’t find hers. She lines up yogurt cups in the fridge, the repetitive motion slowing her thoughts until the house doesn’t feel so loud anymore.

“Sixteen pots of Greek yogurt?” Sakura gawks, eyes wide.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen eyes that big in real life.” Chaewon can’t help giggling. “Kazuha-ssi and I are going to have them for breakfast or whenever we want a snack. You’re more than welcome to have some as well.”

“I’m okay, thank you.” There’s a grimace on Sakura’s face despite the polite rejection.

Kazuha snickers beside Sakura as she stacks the yogurts, and Chaewon takes that small pocket of laughter like oxygen. The kitchen feels almost normal - just housemates settling in.

Then Jongseong’s voice cuts in from behind them. “Did any of you pack band-aids?”

Chaewon turns, confused, until he gestures toward the sink. Yunjin stands there with one hand under running water, Yeonjun rummaging through drawers beside her.

“Yunjin-ssi cut her finger,” Jongseong explains.

The sound of her name - Yunjin’s name - lands sharper than it should. Chaewon’s stomach twists.

“It’s fine!” Yunjin calls over the rush of water. “I don’t need one.”

Chaewon exhales slowly through her nose. Of course she’d say that. Yunjin had always been stubborn about small injuries, brushing off even the worst papercuts like they were personal insults. Chaewon knows that she probably has a few band-aids buried somewhere in her suitcase, the way she always does. Her instinct is to fetch them but she doesn’t move.

The last thing she wants is to force Yunjin into an awkward exchange, especially with half the cast and the cameras hovering nearby. Any small interaction would be dissected later - by the producers, by the viewers. Maybe that’s paranoid, but after today, paranoia feels justified. There’s no way this coincidence wasn’t at least… convenient.

So she keeps her hands busy with the groceries instead.

“They have a first-aid kit here!” Soobin jogs in, holding up a pouch.

Chaewon lets herself exhale, focusing on the fridge again as Soobin crouches beside Yunjin. When she risks a glance up, she catches Jongseong watching her from the corner of his eye.

“You really don’t have to. It’s a very small cut.”

“No offense Yunjin-ssi” he teases, dabbing ointment on her finger, “but I’d rather not have blood in my pasta tonight.”

The kitchen bursts into laughter - Yunjin’s laugh loudest of all. Chaewon doesn’t join in. She pretends to rearrange the yogurt cups again, anything to look occupied.

💌

Dinner had been exactly what Yunjin needed.

After nearly slicing her finger open earlier, Yunjin had worried the rest of the evening would unravel. But once the food hit the table, everything softened. Cooking, eating, feeding others - those were her resets. Now, with the table cluttered with empty plates and half-finished glasses of soju, the house finally felt like a home.

She leans back in her chair, listening to Yeonjun teasing Riki about how many bottles he’s already emptied. There’s laughter everywhere - unfiltered, genuine - and for the first time all day, Yunjin feels the tight coil in her chest start to loosen.

Until Chaewon laughs too.

It’s quiet, polite, the kind of sound that shouldn’t mean anything. But somehow it digs under Yunjin’s skin. She tells herself she’s imagining it - that her brain is inventing reasons to stay mad, that she’s projecting something that isn’t there. Still, the irritation hums in the background like tinnitus.

She takes another sip and forces a grin when Jongseong suggests a game.

“Soobin says we should play Song Byong Ho,” he declares, already arranging the seating.

“It’s easy,” Soobin explains patiently. “You hold your hand up like this, and we go around saying things like ‘people who have done this, fold a finger.’ If it applies to you, you fold. First to fold all five drinks.”

Soobin’s tone and gestures are so precise that Yunjin can’t resist muttering, “You sound like a teacher, Soobin-ssi.”

Kazuha’s face brightens. “I was just thinking that!”

The group dissolves into easy laughter. It feels good - the rhythm of shared amusement, the way it drowns out the inner static.

“Alright,” Soobin says, holding up his hand. “People who had trouble sleeping last night because of today, fold.”

Yunjin sighs and drops a finger immediately. Yeonjun and Soobin do the same.

“People who feel forced to be here, fold,” Yunjin tosses in. It earns a mix of groans and chuckles but no one moves.

Then it’s Kazuha’s turn. “People who think the chicken came before the egg, fold!”

That one sends the table into hysterics. Yunjin laughs so hard she has to wipe her eyes, half-yelling, “I’m so happy you’re here, Kazuha-ssi!”

Sakura, Jongseong, Chaewon, and Riki obediently fold fingers through their laughter.

Jongseong takes his turn with a smirk. “People who are wondering why their ex chose them to be here, fold.”

That one hangs a little heavier in the air. A couple of fingers fold - Chaewon’s among them. Yunjin catches it, her stomach tightening.

The next few rounds pass in a blur of teasing and laughter until it circles back to Chaewon. She pauses, chin resting on her hand, eyes darting briefly toward the middle of the table before she speaks.

“People who feel… unsettled because of seeing someone, fold.”

The air shifts. Not dramatically, just a subtle ripple that only Yunjin seems to feel. She stares down at her raised hand, willing it not to twitch. She’s not talking about you. She could mean anyone.

No one folds.

Sakura chuckles and picks up the next prompt, but Yunjin’s barely listening. Her chest is tight again. If anyone else had said it, she might’ve laughed it off. But from Chaewon? It feels loaded.

It’s irrational, Yunjin knows. She’s aware of how ridiculous it is to read subtext into a party game. But she can’t help it. Because if Chaewon is throwing jabs, she’s doing it masterfully - leaving no fingerprints.

And if she’s not? Then Yunjin’s just sitting here, stewing in her own delusions, while the cameras roll and everyone else laughs. So she takes a big gulp from her drink, determined to look fine.

“People who are leaving early for work tomorrow, fold,” Riki says next, drawing a few groans of protest. The tension loosens again, laughter filling the cracks.

By the time the circle comes back to Soobin, everyone’s half-drunk and half-giddy. He opens his mouth to start his next prompt - but the sharp chime of the doorbell cuts through the chatter.

The table stills. Heads turn toward the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Soobin says, pushing back his chair.

A minute later, he reappears holding a stack of crisp envelopes, the logo of the show glinting under the lights. He places them in the center of the table, keeping one back in his hand.

“I think it’s time.”

💌

Chapter Text

Soobin skims over the card before clearing his throat. “I’ll read it out loud for everyone.”

The room hums with anticipation - a mix of curiosity and dread.

Yunjin’s fingers toy with the edge of her napkin, excitement prickling under her skin. She’d actually enjoyed writing her own letter earlier that week, folding it into words she hadn’t realized she’d been saving for years. There was something strangely cathartic about it - trying to capture what an old love once meant to you, distilling it into a page that no longer hurt to touch.

Now, sitting here, she’s ready to listen. She wants to know the others through the people who once loved them. What piqued their interest, what they’re like as romantic partners, what still sticks with them after everything they’ve been through. And selfishly, she wants to hear how her ex remembers her - how he’ll choose to frame her in words for strangers to hear.

There’s something sacred about that, she thinks - that everyone here is sincere enough to write something so heartfelt about a person who isn’t yours anymore, but once meant the world to you.

Soobin looks up, smiling nervously. “Okay. Who wants to start?”

Kazuha volunteers first. Her letter is thoughtful and quietly affectionate, written by someone who clearly adored her steadiness. Her ex talks about her kindness, her resilience, and how her odd sense of humour made even bad days bearable. The words are simple, but the sincerity is heavy enough to fill the room.

Yunjin watches her cheeks redden as she reads, voice lilting with embarrassment. By the end, everyone’s clapping softly, and Kazuha buries her face in her hands.

Sakura follows. Her ex’s letter isn’t written with a lot of flair but holds a personalized touch that could only be from a person who truly knows her. It paints Sakura as much warmer and more receptive than she looks, a person who is pure-hearted and completely transparent. There’s humor in it too, small details that make the group laugh - like how she was apparently known as a kindhearted robot on campus.

By the end, everyone’s smiling. Then it’s Yunjin’s turn.

She inhales, fingers trembling slightly as she opens her envelope. She smooths the page flat on the table and takes a deep breath before she begins reading.

She can't help the chuckle that escapes once she sees the first two lines.

“I can vividly remember the first time I saw Yunjin. She had blue eyeshadow and orange hair.” She lifts her head up when she hears a few people gasp.

"I have to see pictures!" Kazuha demands. Speculation about her possibly being an ex-idol or a fashion model makes her ears heat up.

"Ah we should stop. Her ears look like her orange hair." Riki smiles timidly as the table, including Yunjin, laughs at his remark.

"Thank you, Riki-ssi. I'm going to continue now." She clears her throat as she finds her place.

“She has this presence - loud but never overbearing, confident but never cruel. She is talented in many things and always has a lot going on but will always make time for you. She may come across as free-spirited but she lives very diligently. Stick to her meticulously detailed spreadsheet unless you want to upset her.”

The table chuckles quietly. Yunjin feels her face heat but keeps going.

“Yunjin is very sincere, almost to a fault. You can always tell when she’s lying because she’s really bad at it but she is really good at giving compliments. She taught me that honesty is almost always nice, and it’s usually love in disguise.

She was a very attentive girlfriend whose words helped build a lot of my confidence. Every time I doubted myself, she reminded me how much she believed in me and I knew she meant it. I'm incredibly grateful that her love for me helped me love myself more."

Yunjin feels her throat tighten unexpectedly, and she wants to laugh at being so predictably sappy.

It isn’t sadness, not really - more like gratitude catching her off guard. There aren't any ulterior motives behind his words - not grand, just true - and truth always gets to her.

Although their love was ultimately flawed, at its purest form it helped her remember she was worthy of receiving it. It means a lot that he seems to feel the same way as well.

It takes a few seconds, but she eventually swallows down the urge to let tears form. Yunjin told herself that if she was going to cry on TV, it would be for a good reason.

It's not that being moved by your ex-boyfriend's kind words isn't good enough. She just doesn’t want to give the producers that kind of material, to be freely used in previews and shorts clips, this early into the show.

She clears her throat to finish the last two lines.

"I received so much during our relationship and I hope she feels like she did as well. I hope Yunjin meets a person who is as thoughtful as her and is even more generous with their love.”

When Yunjin looks up, she sees her ex-boyfriend regard her with a fond smile and it’s like her body splits in two. There’s the Yunjin who is here, thankful for her past but is only looking forward. And then there's the Yunjin from two years ago who is mourning over what they had and what they could have been.

There will always be a sense of loss and longing, but not enough to make her wish to return to it. Back then, they’d broken things they didn’t know how to fix. And now, they’ve remodeled themselves - different but better in this state.

She makes sure to not linger too long before subtly nodding at him.

Across the table, she glances at Chaewon and the sight lands oddly: her face is blank, expressionless. Not cold - just unreadable, as if nothing at all were happening. The lack of reaction nudges at a small, hot sliver of irritation in Yunjin. Of course she looks steady, Yunjin thinks - of course she can be stoic. It’s almost predictable.

Then Soobin nods for Chaewon to go next. She opens her envelope carefully, as if stalling for time. When she finally begins, her tone is even but soft.

"Chaewon is very quiet and reserved to those she is not close with, but she is a very cute and fun person. It takes time for her to warm up to you, but once she is comfortable she likes to joke around a lot.

She needs someone who has a similar sense of humor so that you can keep up with her playfulness. No matter how hard her day was, she would always make an effort to cheer me up in this way. Just seeing her face would make me forget whatever I was stressed about."

Yunjin holds her gaze, struck by how similar the contents of this letter is to how she would have described Chaewon to others, years ago.

She wonders if they started the same way - friends with great banter, always in a fit of giggles from each other’s jokes. Did they have their own made up phrases and bits they would constantly use like it was their own language? Would he feel the exhaustion of a difficult day disappear the moment her head was leaning on his shoulder? The words should be distant yet seem so familiar.

Chaewon’s voice shakes on the next line, bringing Yunjin out of her thoughts.

"She is one of the most dependable people I know and became my safe place.” She stops to take a breath and hums quietly. "So this is how it feels."

Tears silently fall down her face and Yunjin freezes in shock, unable to look away.

It isn't because she looks like a Hollywood actress while doing so (being an attractive crier must be nice!). Yunjin used to joke that she always cried for the both of them. She can recall a laughable amount of moments where the smallest things moved her to tears while Chaewon would tilt her head in confusion, completely dry-eyed and slightly amused.

Yunjin never perceived her own tears as a weakness but found Chaewon’s resilience admirable.

The panels that curtained her vulnerability allowed it to emit a soft but steady glow. Yunjin would always feel so privileged on the rare occasions where Chaewon wouldn’t seal a crack too quickly, a strong beam of light temporarily cutting through.

So seeing her outwardly show this side, in front of strangers, before the self-proclaimed cry-baby did was startling to say the least. Yunjin swallows, unsure what to do. Part of her wants to look away. Another part can’t. For the first time since the show started, she isn’t angry. Just… emotionally congested.

To no one’s surprise, the fracture in Chaewon’s mask is plastered almost immediately. She gently dabs at her face before she proceeds to read the rest of her letter, voice back to its even tone.

“Being with Chaewon was the first time I was able to show someone who I really was. I’m thankful that she still loved me despite this. For the times where we bumped heads, I’m sorry that I was not as understanding as I could have been. If she is to meet someone here, I hope they can laugh a lot with her and shower her with the affection she deserves.”

Yunjin joins the quiet applause as her mind races. She tries to name what she feels, but it keeps shifting - it is not nostalgia exactly, not accusation, not longing. It is merely recognition. Someone she used to know still exists, and she still stings.

💌

By the time they return to their room, the adrenaline has started to ebb. The air feels thicker, quieter - a strange calm after the noise of dinner.

Chaewon sits on the edge of her bed, back against the wall, the duvet pulled around her legs. Her heart still hasn’t settled into its usual rhythm. The last seven hours have been the most erratic emotional rollercoaster she’s ridden since she was a teenager: the shock of seeing Yunjin again, reading her ex-boyfriend’s letter in front of strangers, the weight of holding herself together under the gaze of a dozen cameras.

She can’t decide whether she feels more wrung out or exposed. Probably both.

At the vanity, Sakura is already seated, brushing her hair. The mirror catches her expression - gentle, a little pensive, but not tired.

“Want to change into something more comfortable before we head back?” Sakura asks, glancing at Chaewon’s reflection.

“Yeah,” Chaewon says, though she doesn’t move right away. “Just need a minute.”

Sakura hums, tying her hair into a pony. “Understandable. That was… a lot.”

Chaewon lets out a soft, humourless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

There’s an easy pause, filled only by the sound of fabric rustling as she pulls out a soft t-shirt from her suitcase.

Sakura sighs. “I seriously didn't think I was going to get emotional.”

Chaewon hums in agreement. She expected a few people to get teary, but didn't expect the majority to and moreover for her to be part of said majority.

“Me too. It was totally unexpected.”

“Ah, why is it so sad?” Sakura asks herself.

Chaewon looks at her through the mirror, smiling sympathetically. Sad isn’t the word she would use. Her tears were more about release. Her very stubborn ex-boyfriend admitting so transparently what he would always struggle to express, gave her a sense of relief she didn’t realize she needed. But she still wishes she hadn’t cried.

She lets out a long sigh. “I’m a little frustrated at myself.”

Sakura tilts her head to the side, still looking through the mirror. “For crying?”

“Yes. Like.. you? You made me cry?” Chaewon points her finger to no one in particular.

Crying in front of people she met today felt very exposing, more so than she had anticipated. While her tears were a result of her feeling comforted, it was still a moment of vulnerability. That was what was so jarring, especially since she always prided herself on being so composed.

What’s even more bizarre is that Yunjin somehow managed to keep it together. There were countless times she would catch her then-girlfriend getting misty eyed over anything that was, from her perspective, marginally sentimental.

It would confuse her, especially after Yunjin would explain what particular detail did it for her. But Chaewon mostly found it endearing and would always coo at her as she gently wiped her tears. It strangely makes her sad, that Yunjin has somehow learned to conceal that earnest, emotional part of herself.

"It's your ex, though," Sakura says.

Chaewon looks at Sakura’s reflection pointedly. "Exactly."

Sakura laughs at her expression, then rotates her body so that she can face Chaewon.

“I think it’s good to get all our feelings out as early as possible. And what he wrote was very sweet.” Sakura’s tone is gentle, trying to comfort her.

“It was sweet for him.”

Understanding waves over Sakura’s face. “Ah. He’s not very expressive normally?”

Chaewon wants to scoff. “He isn’t. But neither am I.”

Sakura shakes her head as she laughs. "If the letter you wrote was read today, you're definitely an expressive person."

Chaewon gives a small shrug. "Everyone wrote such nice things.”

She feels a slight pang of guilt and wants to dismiss it. Her own letter was polite but distant, and to her that was a necessary evil. In fact, she’s surprised her ex-boyfriend didn’t maintain the same professional gap he’s established these last few months.

“It felt wrong,” Chaewon admits. “I didn’t expect the letter to sound like that.”

Sakura tilts her head. “Like what?”

“Too sincere.” Chaewon folds and refolds the corner of her blanket. “He’s not the type to say those things. When we were together, he couldn’t even tell me when something was wrong. We argued constantly because of it. So hearing him say all that… I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t feel real?”

“I guess so.” Chaewon looks down at her hands. “It’s off-putting. Like he’s performing or something. Or maybe he’s changed, but-” she exhales softly “-I’m not here to find out. Whatever we needed to say to each other, we already said a long time ago.”

Sakura studies her for a moment, thoughtful. “Then take it for what it was worth. You cried because something about it hit you, even if it wasn’t about him anymore.”

Chaewon hums a quiet agreement. It’s true - the tears weren’t for him, exactly. They were for everything that’s built up since.

“I can’t believe it’s only the first day.” Chaewon says, trying to reassure herself more than anyone else.

“We just need time to adjust to everything.” Sakura gives her a sympathetic smile. “Now come on. Let’s get you changed so we can open another bottle.”

As they stand, Chaewon feels a sliver of steadiness return. It’s fragile, but it’s there - a reminder that even after the chaos of today, she can still pull herself together.

💌

Yunjin checks her reflection as she pats her damp hair with a towel. Thinking about the letter again brings a smile to her face. It probably wasn’t his intention, but her ex’s words gave her a sense of camaraderie. It’s comforting to know that they’re in this together. She wonders if everyone else feels as reassured as she does.

As she tries to recall how everyone reacted to their letter, the memory of Chaewon crying surfaces, uninvited.

She feels a rush of compassion first - because of course, seeing anyone cry like that would move her. But it collides almost immediately with the memory of Chaewon’s composure earlier that day, the cool detachment when Yunjin had read her own letter. The two images don’t line up, and that dissonance lodges somewhere tight in her chest.

She catches her reflection again. The faint tension between her brows, the tightness around her mouth. God - had she looked like that all evening? She can imagine it now: Chaewon noticing her scowl, the others picking up on the tension. That isn’t who she is. She hates that this day - this person - has pulled her back into being defensive.

Yunjin knows how to move on. No. Yunjin has moved on. She’s never been the type of person who stews in resentment and does not want to start now.

She straightens her posture and waits for her expression to soften before stepping out of the bathroom.

She opens the door and finds Kazuha sitting on the ground in front of her suitcase, reading the letter again. She starts walking towards her bed, and that's when Kazuha notices her presence. She quickly folds the letter and puts it into her suitcase.

"Oh. You're already done?" She asks, a bit startled.

Yunjin nods as she sits on her bed and sees Kazuha's eyes widen, which alerts her.

"I have that hoodie as well!" Kazuha starts manically digging through her suitcase, tossing a few things next to her until she finds the matching hoodie. She holds it up to show Yunjin – same design, different color. They both laugh.

"You have to wear that tonight." Yunjin says with a playful grin.

"Of course," she agrees, smiling back.

Yunjin sees something flash across her mind before she jumps at her eagerly.

"Can you show me pictures of your orange hair?" Kazuha asks with a cheeky grin.

Yunjin blinks. “A picture?”

“Yeah.” Kazuha leans forward, eyes bright. “I’m just really curious what it looks like on you.”

Yunjin smiles as she nods, endeared by her enthusiasm. It takes a bit of scrolling but she eventually finds a decent picture and holds it up to show her. "This isn't from that night but-"

"You look so good! Was this for a particular event?" Kazuha’s eyes glimmer with admiration. She reaches her hand out, silently asking her to hand over her phone.

Yunjin bashfully shakes her head as she passes it to her.

"Not for an event. I just... needed a change."

Kazuha hums as she swipes through a few more photos. "Man, I need to see it with the blue eye shadow.”

Yunjin laughs nervously. “I don’t think I have any from that night.”

“I bet you looked amazing! Must have been love at first sight for your ex," Kazuha teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Not really. We were friends for a while." There’s a small smile tugging at her lips.

"But it left such a strong impression." Kazuha tilts her head as she hands her phone back to her.

"There are other reasons for that."

Yunjin stands to take out the remainder of her clothes from her suitcase. As she glances at Kazuha, she sees her re-reading the letter.

Kazuha looks up, catching Yunjin's gaze. "I was reading the letter again when you came out of the bathroom."

"Yeah, I saw you," Yunjin says while folding a shirt.

"Oh," Kazuha says, a bit embarrassed.

"I was thinking about it as well when I was in the bathroom. It felt strange reading it.”

"It did, right? I'm grateful because what he wrote was really sweet but at the same time, I feel a little... somber? Nostalgic?" Kazuha confesses, hugging her knees to her chest.

"I know what you mean. When we were reading it in front of everyone, all these memories went by in my head. So weird," Yunjin comments, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Same! Were they good memories?" Kazuha asks, her eyes searching Yunjin's face.

She nods with a warm smile. "Thankfully just the good ones. What about you?"

"Mostly the good memories. But some regretful ones too."

Yunjin nods pensively, her gaze distant as Kazuha’s words bring her own thoughts to the surface. There were a few bumps in the road, but when it comes to her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, it’s something she could look back on fondly. They had both gained a friend, and Yunjin was grateful for that. But Chaewon…

Yunjin’s heart tightens slightly, her thoughts pulling her in a direction she doesn’t want to go. There should be room for nostalgia, but with Chaewon, she can’t bring herself to make that space. She’s accepted that it didn’t work out, and that’s all the energy she has for it. There’s no desire to unpack those memories, even the good ones.

Still, they’re here, together, and the producers apparently don’t believe in coincidences. Eventually, they’ll have to interact.

She sighs inwardly. What do you do when you’re a girl’s girl who wants everyone to get along, but one of the girls is your long-lost ex who you’d rather not even look at?

When Kazuha speaks again, her tone is thoughtful. “Do you think the letters are extra sincere because of how we were instructed?”

“It could be,” Yunjin says after a pause. “Or maybe sincerity looks cleaner in hindsight.” She twists the hair tie around her wrist. “My ex and I - we had some mess to clean up before we got here. It just doesn’t show in a letter. We’ve both healed, I guess.”

Kazuha nods. “That’s good, though. Not many people can say that.”

“Yeah,” Yunjin says softly. “It is.”

Yunjin watches Kazuha lay down her clothing options on her bed and recognizes a piece almost immediately. She jumps up and runs to the wardrobe, pulling out the exact same shirt Kazuha just laid out.

She holds it up, grinning with excitement. "Kazuha-ssi, are you my ex?"

Kazuha laughs at the mischief in Yunjin’s eyes. She shakes her head playfully.

"Maybe in a past life!" Kazuha laughs, delighted. “I’ll treat you better, I promise.”

“You’d better.” Yunjin leans back, grinning, the tension finally easing from her shoulders.

She studies Kazuha for a moment - the way she radiates calm without trying, how her presence feels light but grounded. It’s comforting. After the chaos of the day, this quiet warmth feels like an anchor.

Maybe this whole thing won’t be as impossible as she thought.

💌

When Yunjin and Kazuha walk back into the kitchen, they’re still laughing - two mirror images in matching hoodies. Soobin and Yeonjun are standing at the kitchen island, slicing cheese and arranging it on a board. Soobin chuckles once he sees what they’re both wearing.

“Did you guys plan this?”

“We have other matching clothes as well,” Yunjin says proudly.

Yeonjun snorts. “It’s only day one and you already have couple looks. Didn’t you read the rules?”

“Don’t be jealous,” Kazuha fires back. “More importantly, what are you guys making?” They step closer to inspect the spread.

“Just a quick cheese board. Everyone has started to gather upstairs.”

Yunjin sees the drinks Yeonjun has made already. “Do you need help with those?”

“That one is for Sakura-ssi and that one is for Chaewon-ssi,” Yeonjun points out, handing her the drinks.

“Got it, we'll take these up.” Yunjin carefully hands a glass to Kazuha before picking up the next one with two hands. “Come on, Kazuha. Time to impress the clients.”

Kazuha falls into step beside her, their soft laughter trailing up the staircase. When they reach the second floor, the main room hums with low conversation. Sakura and Chaewon are sitting together on the couch, turned towards Riki and Jongseong who sit on the other side.

Yunjin clears her throat, hovering her free arm toward her chest like a waiter.

“For you, Sakura-ssi,” she says in an exaggeratedly formal tone, bowing slightly as she hands over the drink. Sakura giggles, using two hands to receive the glass.

“Ah, thank you very much,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Yunjin swiftly passes Chaewon as she heads toward the empty spot next to Jongseong.

Kazuha imitates Yunjin’s gesture, presenting the other drink. “For you, Chaewon-ssi,” she says, mimicking the same formal tone.

Chaewon bows as she places the drink down.

Kazuha sits on the floor with a shy smile on her face, satisfied with everyone’s reaction. She sighs as she leans onto the base of the sofa, head slightly resting towards Yunjin’s legs.

“What is this? Why didn’t I get the memo?” Riki points at them, eyeing their matching hoodies.

“Sorry. Can’t help it.” Yunjin shrugs. “We’re just soulmates.”

Kazuha looks up to wink at Yunjin. She clicks her tongue and winks back, eliciting another round of soft laughter. Yunjin feels some relief wash over her. It’s comforting that everyone seems to be relaxing after their emotional roller coaster from a few hours earlier.

“What were you talking about before we came up?” Kazuha asks.

“We were talking about our ideal types. Chaewon-ssi was about to tell us hers.” Sakura playfully nods at Chaewon.

She blinks in surprise. “I don’t think I have one.”

“Really? It doesn’t have to be a celebrity. It could be a trait that you’re attracted to.” Riki probes.

Chaewon shrugs. “It’s not something I really focus on.”

Her words hang there - soft but deliberate. It shouldn’t bother her, but something about Chaewon’s evasion makes it easily noticeable.

“It’s okay. We’ll come back to you.” Riki assures her with a gentle smile. "What about you, Kazuha-ssi?”

Kazuha hums as she thinks, tapping her chin. “Someone who has a similar sense of humor as me, and knows how to focus without becoming too passionate.”

Riki nods thoughtfully.

“Yunjin-ssi?” Kazuha asks, passing the question along.

“I like people who laugh with me.” Yunjin smiles easily. “Someone can be silly but also knows when to be sincere.”

Kazuha nudges her. “So, me?”

Everyone laughs, dissolving more of the tension that’s been built over the day.

“Who did you say your ideal type was, Sakura-ssi?” Yunjin asks, curious.

“I said Seo Junghoo from Healer,” she says, gushing slightly.

“Is that an idol?” Kazuha asks, tilting her head.

“He’s a character from an old drama,” Jongseong explains with a grin.

“Excuse me, who are you calling old?” Sakura feigns offense, placing a hand over her heart.

“And now you have given away your age. Thank you, noona,” Jongseong jokes, earning a chorus of laughter from the group.

Yunjin feels her phone buzz in her pocket and hears what seems to be everyone else’s devices pinging in unison.

Show Announcements

Welcome to the house. Who is the person who made your heart flutter today?

Yunjin purses her lips. Texts like this, especially on the first day, feel a little pointless to her. How much could you really know about someone in such a short amount of time? It’s way too soon for hearts to flutter.

Still, she knows the show needs its rhythm, its push for connection. She looks through the lists of names on her Notes app, weighing her options.

Soobin’s the easy answer. When she cut her finger, he was quick to offer help. He seems genuinely sweet and thoughtful. Sending a friendly text to thank him feels safe, yet sincere.

Show Announcements

Please send this message to Soobin-ssi. “Thank you for patching my finger up today. I hope today is the last day you cry in this house.”

She looks up and tries to subtly observe who is left in the room. She sees a few people still hesitating, particularly Jongseong and Kazuha. She wonders if they’re conflicted for the same reasons, or if they are genuinely nervous to send a text to someone. Good for them, if that’s the case.

Soobin and Yeonjun come upstairs with the drinks and snacks that they prepared, which thankfully lightens the atmosphere a little.

The conversation starts to flow again but it seems everyone is conscious of the fact that they just sent out those messages. It’s as if a silent, shared secret hangs in the air, making the room feel both intimate and awkward.

Her phone buzzes again, and she sees two messages.

Show Announcements

You have received a message: “I hope your finger is okay! ㅠㅠ I’ll cut the vegetables next time.”

Your ex did not send you a message.

Both messages bring out a small smile, Soobin’s kindness warming her.

The laughter resumes as people exchange knowing glances. Someone jokes about guessing pairs. Yunjin sips from her can, pretending not to watch anyone too closely.

And then, without meaning to, her gaze flicks to the other side of the room. Chaewon’s phone lights up. For a brief second, Yunjin catches a quick, almost imperceptible movement - Chaewon rolling her eyes at what she assumes is the anonymous message. It’s so fast that if she had blinked, she would have missed it entirely.

Yunjin looks away immediately. She wasn’t looking for it. Just happened to notice.

She hides the snort that threatens to escape by pressing her lips into a thin line. It’s honestly quite amusing because what kind of message warrants that type of reaction?

It sounds a little twisted, but the brief glimpse of Chaewon’s irritation is sort of comforting in a way. As much as she’s spiraled today, it’s reassuring that the trigger for said spiral might be having just as much of a bad day as her.

💌

By the time the laughter in the common room starts to fade, Chaewon feels her energy draining fast. The day has been long - too long - and those text messages earlier hadn’t helped.

The producers had made it sound lighthearted, a fun “icebreaker” kind of prompt, but it only made her more aware of how artificial this whole setup was. She sent her message to Riki without much thought. He’d helped her grab a box of cereal from the top shelf at the grocery store earlier, so it felt safe, harmless.

Her phone buzzed later with a reply, and seeing the words ‘Your ex has sent you a message’ on the screen had left her stomach tight. Of course he would send one. He’d been acting strange all day - hovering over her, trying to check on her without getting caught. Chaewon does not have the energy to unpack that, especially tonight.

It seems everyone around her seems to be relaxing, though. Soobin’s suggestion to drop honorifics seems to have contributed to easing the tension. Chatter that feels a little less forced fills the room and Chaewon finally feels like she can blend in and coast through the rest of the evening unnoticed.

But then the doorbell rings. Riki jumps up, eager to answer.

“I’ll get it!” he quickly declares before he rushes towards the stairs.

He returns with a familiar looking envelope in his hand. Chaewon holds her breath with the rest of the group.

“Two letters in one night?” Yeonjun comments, raising an eyebrow.

Riki opens the envelope and holds out the letter once he skims over the words.

Among a few gasps, Chaewon lets out a heavy sigh. While she wouldn’t normally be opposed to this, she feels that enough has happened today. She had been hoping to coast through the rest of the night without any more upheavals.

Her phone pings, and she is met with even more uplifting news.

Show Announcements

The Chat Room is an activity where you will have the chance to speak to another participant anonymously. Tonight that will be your ex.

Please make your way to the address 54 Pyeongchang 42-gil, Jongno District.

Chaewon holds in a scoff. The producers certainly have a great sense of humor.

Everyone starts to get up, and she notices that the atmosphere starts to shift to something slightly tense. Chaewon wonders if everyone else is dreading this as much as she is.

“Should we all go together?” Sakura suggests, looking around at everyone.

“Yeah, might as well,” Jongseong agrees, standing up and stretching. “It’s not far from here.”

As they make their way outside, the group is quiet, each person lost in their own thoughts. The night air is cool, and the walk is short, but it feels longer with the weight of what might happen next.

They make their way around the block, and some try to break the tension with light conversation. Yeonjun and Soobin continue with another round of would you rather, their voices a bit louder in the quiet night.

Chaewon lags slightly behind, her mind occupied with trying to predict what her ex may ask her when it’s her turn in the room. As she walks, her gaze naturally falls on the matching hoodies of Yunjin and Kazuha, who are walking in front of her with their arms linked. A twinge of envy hits her.

Yunjin always had this trait - the ability to make friends effortlessly, to draw people in without even trying. For Chaewon, opening up to others has always been a slower, more cautious process. It isn’t necessarily about trust. She just needs a bit more time to feel comfortable.

She hears them chatting easily, laughter bubbling up between them and that envy coils into something else. Seeing Yunjin be so at ease, so seemingly unaffected by everything that is happening is a little off putting. How can she be so normal, so unbothered, when their current situation is anything but?

Chaewon huffs as she quickens her pace slightly, trying to push those thoughts away.

As they arrive at the address, the producers quickly separate the girls and boys. Chaewon is last in line as they’re led down a hallway to another room with four chairs inside. Producer Jin steps forward as she makes her way to the last available seat.

“You’ll be called one by one to enter the Chat Room. Just sit at the desk and use the keyboard to start chatting. We’ll be on the other side so if you need anything just hit the bell that’s at the desk.”

Her gaze settles on Chaewon as she finishes her sentence.

“Chaewon-ssi, we’ll be starting with you.”

Chaewon nods, her earlier irritation now dulled by the inevitability of the situation. She just wants to get this over with so she can retreat to the comfort of her bed and put this long day behind her.

The producer gestures for her to follow, and Chaewon walks through another hallway that leads to a smaller room.

The room is essentially a booth, designed to be functional rather than comfortable. There’s a single chair in front of a plain desk with a keyboard, monitor and sure enough a bell. The lighting is soft, almost clinical, and there’s a sense of isolation that makes Chaewon acutely aware of her own presence.

Producer Jin motions for her to sit. “He is on the other side in a similar room. Just start typing when you’re ready.”

Chaewon hears the door close behind her, a soft but definitive click that signals she’s alone now. She hovers her hands over the keyboard, debating whether to take the initiative and message him first. But before she can decide, a message pops up on the screen.

Hi

It’s simple, civil, and somehow that makes it even more frustrating. Her fingers move across the keyboard, typing a quick response.

Hey

She leans back in her chair, staring at the screen as she waits for his reply. The next message comes almost immediately.

You ok?

Chaewon narrows her eyes at the question. Is he genuinely concerned or just trying to fill the silence?

She reassures herself that he’s probably just checking in, though the formality of it all feels strange given their history.

I’m fine. Everything is pretty new but I’m getting used to it

What about you?

I’m good.

As expected, a short reply with nothing to work with. It leaves Chaewon feeling like she’s pulling teeth just to keep the conversation going.

Her irritation starts to bubble up again, but she tamps it down, reminding herself that this is just something she has to get through.

Anyone caught your eye?

Chaewon raises her eyebrows at the question, surprised that he’d jump to that topic so soon. She wonders if he’s fishing for information or just making conversation. Either way, she doesn’t have too much to share.

It’s too early to tell

What about you?

Not really

It’s only the first day, after all

Yeah

The word feels empty, but she doesn’t have much else to say.

As she sits there, she realizes she’s been holding back a question since the moment she sat down, and she can’t keep it in any longer.

Hey what’s with your text?

There’s a pause, longer than the others, and Chaewon can almost imagine him hesitating on the other side, trying to figure out how to respond.

What do you mean?

Chaewon rolls her eyes at his feigned ignorance. He knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“This hairstyle really suits you”

You’ve seen me with short hair

Another pause. The silence drags on, and she wonders if he’s deliberately taking his time, or if he genuinely doesn’t know what to say.

I know. But that was when we first met.

And it was a little different back then.

Chaewon stares at it for a moment before typing back.

Cool

It’s polite(ish). Neutral. Nothing for him to misinterpret.

You sure you’re ok?

Chaewon lets out a short laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on her. She types her response, the words leaving her before she can second-guess them.

Yeah. It’s just a lot to take in at the same time

Why? Do I seem off?

Not really. It’s just

It was weird seeing you cry.

It felt weird crying

but what you wrote was very touching. I really appreciated it

Thanks. Your letter was really sweet.

Chaewon scoffs softly, not sure if she believes him.

Thanks

She waits, wondering if they’re done.

The screen is still for a moment, and she contemplates if she should say goodbye first when she sees the typing bubble appear again.

I know we didn’t end on the best terms but I’m hoping we can get along for this whole thing. Just because we’re exes doesn’t mean I don’t have your back.

The message catches her off guard. She wasn’t expecting him to say something like that, and for a brief moment, she feels a warmth she hadn’t anticipated. A small smile touches her lips as she types her reply.

Yeah we’re cool. We’ll be fine

Chaewon hits send and leans back in her chair, the tension easing out of her shoulders. The conversation wasn’t perfect, but it’s better than what she was dreading.

When the chat window finally fades, she exhales - not relief exactly, just release. The room feels smaller now, the air recycled.

She stands, rubbing her palms together to shake off the nerves, and catches her reflection in the darkened screen. Her expression is neutral, practiced.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Tomorrow, she tells herself, she’ll start over.

💌

The Chat Room feels smaller than she expected - cozy in theory, but the quiet hum of electronics gives it a sterile edge. Yunjin settles into the chair, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as the monitor flickers to life.

The day has been a long blur: introductions, letters, laughter that never quite reached her chest. Still, she feels lighter now than she did this morning. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just exhaustion. Either way, the anticipation buzzing in her stomach has softened into something like calm curiosity.

When the chat window opens, she exhales and types the first message.

Heyyyyy

Yooooo

Dude this is so weird

Right???

Who uses a keyboard for ig dms

Hahha so true

Getting work ptsd from this office cubicle ngl

Bro you haven’t an office job for like 3 years

The familiarity in their exchange makes her smile. It feels easy, light - like slipping into an old rhythm she hadn’t realized she missed.

Trauma is still trauma

But enough about me

How are you doing? How’s your roommate?

Her responses flow from her fingertips without a second thought.

Not gonna lie I was pretty nervous

but I think I’m good now

omg Kazuha is the best!!! can’t believe I found my soulmate on day 1

not you winning the game already 😌

ikr??

Like forget everyone else

I finally got the sorority sister I deserve

Speaking of which

How's your roommate?

He’s pretty cool

Seems like a decent guy

I saw him nursing your wound 😏

Yunjin rolls her eyes as she quickly types out her reply.

UmmM only because the other two boys in the kitchen couldn’t find the first aid kit

I’m kind of shocked that they’re letting us talk to each other this quickly

Same

It’s nice though

Not talking to a stranger

Yeah it is

Can’t wait for us to talk like normal

Yeah its lowkey fun doing a bit of acting

But I can see it getting old soon

Like I need someone who knows me well enough to help process my half-baked thoughts

Omg same

My brain isn’t going to survive 4 weeks of internal processing

Hardware overheat

Kkkkk sure it will

Hey what did you think of my letter??

She can almost hear his playful tone in her head.

I loved it 🥹

tbh I teared up

Yeah I caught that

Tears of happiness I hope?

Duh of course!

Like I was reading and it was like an edit of my favorite memories played in my mind

Wow spoken like a true F

Hello you literally are one too

Nah but thats actually really sweet

Highkey proud of myself

Ew you gotta ruin everything

Let me be nice and sentimental for like 2 seconds

And omg I can’t believe you told everyone about the orange hair and blue eye shadow

Uhhh how could I not???

Sorry to all redheads but I’ve never seen anyone else suit that color more

Aww thanks bestie

I only speak the truth

See I can be nice and sentimental

Dude youre so annoying

Yet you still dated me for almost two years

Don’t remind me

Yunjin leans back in her chair with a small smile. The banter feels lived-in, safe. Then she notices the new messages.

I also wrote that you were hogging the bathroom because you were crying over a bad breakup

but the writers must have edited that out haha

Her eyes widen slightly, panic flickering in the back of her mind.

She glances at the double-sided mirror to her right, the presence of the crew lurking just out of sight. It’s a stark reminder that she needs to be cautious with what she says and how she reacts.

Omg why would you include that

That was so embarrassing

Whaaat

I think it’s a cute anecdote

It’s like a scene from a netflix show

Cute for you

Embarrassing for me

Was nothing like tv dawg I was a hot mess that night

No you werent

Embarrasing or a hot mess

Cos I was both

Plus I don’t think they would be thrilled about us talking about other exes

As Yunjin types, she feels a wave of relief knowing that this part of their chat probably won’t make it to the final cut of the show.

Oh true. Didn’t think about that

your letter was beautiful by the way

such a talented writer

It’s not the kind of compliment that flusters her anymore, but something about its simplicity grounds her.

Omg stopppp

Such high praise dude

I’m really glad that you like it that much

Her fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment, thoughts drifting. She’s surprised by how quickly the conversation has put her at ease. It’s a nice break from the chaos of the house.

Hey you sure you're doing alright?

You seemed a little out of it today

I did? in what way?

I’m not sure

You just came across as really reserved

Yunjin’s eyes narrow slightly as she reads his message.

Reserved? She’s always been a bit more introverted, especially when meeting new people, but she thought she was doing a decent job of blending in.

I think I’m tired from maxing out my social energy

That makes sense

You usually put on a brave face so you must be quite overwhelmed

He’s not wrong. There’s been a lot on her mind, more than she cares to admit. But she doesn’t want to worry him, especially not now. She replies, feeling a little guilty for not being entirely honest.

Yeah there’s just a lot going on

How about you? How are you feeling?

I’m doing great!

Thriving even

She laughs as she types her response.

Omg just felt all my energy being drained

kkkkk I forget that you’re only outgoing in bursts

And I almost forgot you’re a total social butterfly. I see you bartender!

Just being accommodating for the shy folks!

There’s a pause before his next message.

Speaking of which

Feel free to pull me aside if you want to have a chat about anything

I know you prefer to process everything internally but this is like a super unusual experience

So if you just need to vent or whatever let me know

Yunjin holds back a snicker when she reads “super unusual experience”.

Thank you

Seriously

Knowing me I’m gonna have to take up your offer at some point to keep my sanity intact

You can come to me as well
if you need anything. I mean it

Thanks friend 👊✨

Any time, chingu 🤝

Yunjin exhales as she rests her hands over the desk. The keyboard light casts faint shadows across her knuckles. She knows that he’s only noticed her unease because one, he’s an observant person, and two, he’s her ex. But the idea that her inner turmoil might be visible to others, especially on camera, makes her uneasy.

It’s a relief to know that if things start to unravel - if the pressure of the show becomes too much - she has someone to lean on, someone who knows her beyond the surface level that everyone else sees. But a part of her hopes that it won’t come to that.

She hadn’t realized how much she needed this - a simple, normal conversation. Talking to him feels like finding another small pocket of warmth in the middle of the cold production chaos.

Despite everything - the cameras, the long day, the impossible situation with Chaewon - she feels like she’s come back to the surface.

Everyone she’s met so far seems kind, genuine in their own strange ways. She wants to believe that she can make something good out of this. Just like she’s hoped, maybe this show won’t have to be about heartbreak or spectacle.

As she stands to leave, she smiles softly to herself. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do about Chaewon - that part is still a knot she’s not ready to untangle. But at least, she thinks, she’s not alone in here. If things get too heavy, she has at least one person she can talk to.

It’s enough, for now.

💌

By the time the others begin heading to bed, Chaewon feels the fatigue settle into her bones. Her head buzzes faintly - a blur of lights, chatter, and the constant whir of cameras still stationed in the corners of her mind. She just wants to sleep this day off.

It’s been a long, disorienting start, but she’s grateful for small mercies: Sakura’s calm presence, Riki’s quiet humor, Soobin’s easy warmth. People like them make the whole thing feel a little less unbearable. Maybe the rest of her time here won’t be so bad after all.

She follows Soobin down the stairs, both of them holding empty mugs.

“So, what time are you leaving tomorrow?” Soobin asks as they descend the final steps.

“I just have to be out by 11, but I’ll probably go at 10.”

“Wow. That must be nice. I have to be up at 6 tomorrow,” he says with a grimace, already mourning the lost sleep.

Chaewon winces. “At least it’s Friday tomorrow, so you can have some proper rest afterward.”

“True. I was going to get up even earlier to go for a run, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

She laughs lightly. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen for anyone tomorrow.”

They’re still laughing when they round the corner - and the sound dies in Chaewon’s throat.

A soft humming drifts through the kitchen, clear and familiar. The overhead lights cast the space in a warm glow, and at the sink stands Yunjin, hands in soapy water, humming a tune under her breath.

The sight stops Chaewon cold. The easy smile she’d been wearing falters, her mind short-circuiting as the sound of that voice sinks in. For a split second, it feels like being transported backward in time - mornings from another life, Yunjin standing by a kitchen counter in the same absentminded way.

Yunjin, who hadn’t noticed their presence yet, is entirely absorbed in her task, her voice a soft melody that fills the quiet kitchen.

She looks up at the sound of Soobin’s footsteps nearing and the humming cuts off instantly. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before her face smooths into polite composure.

“Good evening comrades,” Yunjin says, light and teasing.

Soobin grins, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere. “Why did you stop singing?”

“Ah, I forgot I live with seven other people now.” Yunjin replies, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Thank you for doing the dishes,” Soobin says sincerely.

“Don’t mention it. The cheeseboard was so good,” she answers with a smile, returning to her task.

Chaewon forces herself to move, but her limbs feel uncoordinated. She finds herself watching Yunjin more closely than she intends to.

Her hair is tied up in a lazy bun, and she’s wearing black horn-rimmed glasses. Glasses? Since when did Yunjin wear glasses?

Something about it hits her deeper than she can explain. It’s like she’s catching a glimpse of something she’s no longer supposed to see.

Soobin, noticing her hesitation, gestures toward the purifier. “We’re just here to get some water.”

Chaewon nods too quickly. “W-water,” she stammers, voice catching.

She grips her mug like an anchor and steps toward the dispenser. Her hand trembles slightly as she fills it. She’s aware of every sound - the trickle of water, the quiet clink of dishes, her heartbeat thudding louder than it should.

She knows she’s panicking and can’t even pinpoint why.

Chaewon caps her mug and mutters a polite “goodnight” before slipping out. The air in the hallway feels cooler, thinner. She quickens her pace, hoping the movement will steady her breathing.

Behind her, Soobin calls after her with a laugh, “You okay? You’re acting like we bumped into your ex or something.”

She forces a small laugh over her shoulder, but it comes out weak. He’s clearly joking, but the words land like a weight in her stomach.

By the time she reaches the stairs, the laughter has faded. The paranoia she’s been trying to keep buried all day creeps back in - the cameras, the producers, the possibility that someone knows more than they should.

She takes a slow sip of water, trying to quiet the noise in her chest. Tomorrow, she tells herself. Tomorrow she’ll reset.

💌

💌

Chapter Text

Day 2 – Friday, May 4, 2029

Yunjin immediately feels the slight hangover when she wakes up - the sunlight slicing through the curtains feels like a laser beam trained directly on her forehead. Her skull throbs in sync with her heartbeat, and for a moment she lies still, waiting for the ache to fade. It doesn’t.

She groans softly and reaches for her phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen.

9:17 AM - technically a sleep-in, though her body doesn’t seem grateful for it. Her muscles ache with that fuzzy, post-drinking heaviness that makes the bed feel magnetic.

Her phone buzzes again - a new message from the producers’ group chat.

Kim Seulgi PD-Nim

Yunjin-ssi, please remember to attach your microphone before leaving your room. Cameras are already rolling downstairs.

She stares at the message for a beat, the words tugging her back to reality. Right. Cameras. Mics. The invisible audience she keeps forgetting about.

A part of her wonders how long it’ll take before she stops noticing the equipment, or if it’s better that she doesn’t. The microphone’s small weight will be her morning reminder: be careful what you show, and what you don’t.

Yunjin clips it onto her shirt with a resigned sigh and drags herself upright, slipping on her glasses. The world sharpens into focus - maybe too much.

Kazuha’s bed is already made, hospital-neat, not a single crease in sight. Typical.

Yunjin stretches, shuffling toward the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror looks as tired as she feels: eyes slightly puffy, hair sticking out at every angle. She brushes the messy strands and twists it into a bun, assessing the result.

“Cute for someone who just woke up,” she mumbles to herself, the joke landing somewhere between genuine amusement and forced pep talk. Her voice sounds too loud in the sterile bathroom.

The faint whir of the mic against her collar reminds her she’s technically talking to whoever’s listening in the control room. She shakes her head, deciding she doesn’t care. Not this morning.

Still, she straightens a little, as if posture alone might offset the hangover.

The promise of Greek yogurt waiting in the fridge gives her just enough motivation to leave the room. The hallway air feels heavier today - maybe it’s the hangover, maybe it’s the quiet tension of knowing she’ll have to face everyone again after last night.

When she steps into the kitchen, the smell of food hits first - warm eggs, coffee, a faint trace of soy sauce. Riki’s at the counter, plating his breakfast with the kind of efficiency that makes her headache feel almost disrespectful.

“Good morning,” she says as cheerfully as she can, though her voice still carries the gravel of sleep.

“Good morning. There’s still some coffee left over,” Riki replies, nodding toward the pot beside him.

“It’s like you read my mind,” she says, already reaching for a mug. She takes a few gulps, ignoring how it burns her tongue, and prays the caffeine will work faster than biology allows.

“Everyone was at least a little hungover this morning,” Riki says, flipping the last of his eggs.

“I bet they were,” Yunjin replies, rubbing at her temple. The faint mechanical whine of the camera near the counter reminds her they’re never really alone, even in moments like this - though Riki seems blissfully unbothered. She wonders if that’s genuine or practiced.

“Do you want eggs as well? I can add some more right now while the pan is hot.”

She smiles, shaking her head. “That’s nice of you, but Kazuha-ssi said I could have some of the yogurt they bought yesterday.”

When she opens the fridge, the sight makes her laugh quietly - rows of perfectly aligned yogurt tubs, color-coded like a miniature storefront display.

Something about the order feels oddly comforting - and familiar. She can’t place why at first, but it scratches at the back of her mind, like déjà vu in sterile lighting. She takes one from the front, careful not to ruin the symmetry.

The fridge door shuts with a soft click - and then she hears footsteps.

“Good morning,” Riki greets the newcomer.

“Good morning.”

It’s a soft voice, uncharacteristically chirpy for the morning, that Yunjin knows all too well.

She straightens herself, bracing for the interaction. Yunjin turns slowly, wearing her most polite smile that she hopes looks effortless.

“Good morning.”

She keeps her voice light but apparently not light enough because Chaewon freezes mid-step, wide-eyed, as if she’s been caught trespassing. It’s the same expression she saw yesterday when she came into the kitchen with Soobin, only clearer in the daylight.

Yunjin remembers how she could barely meet her gaze as she awkwardly made her way around the kitchen, zooming out as soon as she saw her chance. She watches Chaewon blink a couple of times as she hesitates, almost like she’s trying to process something.

“Yes, it is, Yunjin-ssi” she says almost robotically.

Riki chuckles. “I thought we were dropping the honorifics?”

“Oh. Yeah. I must be really hungover,” Chaewon mumbles as she moves towards the water purifier, filling her cup with fidgety hands.

Yunjin pushes down the urge to scowl, annoyed at how ridiculous she is acting. But something about the way Chaewon fumbles with the machine makes her pause.

Yunjin watches her hands - the way her fingers twitch, how she fumbles with the cup. It’s almost painful. The irritation that rises in her chest softens into curiosity. She’d pegged this awkwardness as avoidance yesterday, but maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe Chaewon’s not being cold - maybe she’s just flustered.

The thought lands like static. It hadn’t occurred to her at the time, but looking back, it seemed more and more likely.

Her mind replays yesterday’s moment at the dinner table, Chaewon’s blank stare as Yunjin read the letter aloud, how she’d avoided eye contact until she could escape the room. Yunjin had dismissed it as indifference, maybe even contempt. But now, seeing the subtle tremor in her hands - she’s not so sure.

Chaewon’s usually composed, even shy, but not like this. Not jittery. Not unraveling.

Yunjin glances over again, watching as Chaewon hesitates before grabbing a spoon from the drawer, her movements overly careful but still so clumsy. It’s almost painful to watch.

For a moment, Yunjin wonders if it’s because of the show. Chaewon wasn't the most relaxed around strangers, and this situation was definitely intense.

And seeing each other again after all this time? That undeniably shifted her own mood yesterday, so she imagines it would have had at least some kind of effect on Chaewon as well.

The caffeine must be doing its thing, because Yunjin feels like she's been switched on. She’s been here before, misreading someone’s silence and building a story around it. She hates when people do that to her. And here she is now, perceiving Chaewon’s nervousness as being disgruntled.

She feels the weight of her hangover move to the pit of her stomach as she watches Chaewon hurriedly shuffle out of the kitchen

She’d been so wrapped in her own defensive narrative she hadn’t even considered how hard this must be for the other girl - the show, the cameras, her.

Hypocrite, she thinks to herself, half amused, half disgusted, and finishes the rest of her coffee in one swallow, hoping it will wash away the wave of guilt.

💌

Sunday, March 17, 2024 – Five years earlier

Chaewon wakes to the faint scent of something sweet and buttery. The air in Yunjin’s apartment always smells like comfort: a blend of fabric softener, citrus shampoo, and whatever she happens to be cooking that morning.

She stretches beneath the sheets, limbs slow and unhurried, the kind of movement that belongs to mornings without alarms. The sunlight filtering through the curtains paints the room in soft amber, touching the edge of Yunjin’s posters, her half-empty water glass, the discarded sweatpants at the foot of the bed. The room carries Yunjin’s warmth. It always has.

When she finally drags herself up, she feels the coolness of the wooden floor under her bare feet, each step a slow return to reality. She pulls on her clothes from the night before - soft, familiar, carrying Yunjin’s scent - and pads out of the room.

The sight that greets her makes her heart stumble.

Yunjin is standing by the stove in an oversized hoodie, humming to herself as she pours some batter into the pan. She has that bare, cozy look Chaewon loves: no makeup, just the natural softness of her morning face and her slightly tousled hair bouncing as she walks around.

The wide grin just naturally appears on her lips. Yunjin doesn’t even need to try. She was always so effortlessly pretty.

Sensing someone watching her, Yunjin lifts her head, catching Chaewon’s stare.

“Hi, gorgeous. What was your name again?” Yunjin greets, her voice warm and teasing.

Chaewon glares automatically, though her smile betrays her. “Already forgot? You were screaming it repeatedly last night.”

Yunjin gasps, feigning scandal. “Mind your manners in front of my crepes okay? They’re very delicate.”

“Says the one roleplaying as a fuckboy.”

“My apologies, princess. Let me try again.” She draws in a dramatic breath. “Good morning, my goddess - the most ethereal being to have graced this earth and my life.”

Chaewon’s laughter slips out before she can catch it. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe. But you’re, like, highly sufferable. Would walk barefoot through a hundred miles of broken glass just for the chance to hear you fart through a walkie-talkie.”

Chaewon blinks. “I take it back. You’re just insane.”

Yunjin winks at her. “Crazy for you, angel face.”

“I know.”

“Are you crazy for me?” Yunjin teases, and her grin is so easy, so certain, that it almost feels unfair.

Chaewon tilts her head, pretending to think. “Maybe a little.”

“Good enough. Sleep well?”

“Mmhmm,” she hums, feeling suddenly shy under Yunjin’s gaze.

“Bet you did. You seemed pretty tired after last night’s workout.”

“Stooop,” she groans, but her voice lacks any real protest.

Yunjin’s laughter fills the space like a melody she knows by heart. It’s impossible not to smile when she hears it. Chaewon feels heat bloom in her cheeks - not embarrassment, exactly, but the quiet rush of being seen and adored.

She lingers by the counter, just watching Yunjin move around the kitchen, a calm confidence in the way she works. It was moments like this that Chaewon cherished most - the quiet mornings, the normalcy of it all, her girl comfortable and carefree.

“You’re staring,” Yunjin says without turning, a smile curling in her voice.

“I’m allowed to,” Chaewon replies, chin tilted just enough to sound confident.

“It’s because I’m ripped, right? This sleeper build drives the girls mad,” Yunjin flexes one arm dramatically.

Chaewon snorts. “Babe. You have no girls.”

“Not true. I have one.”

“You said plural. My point stands.”

“Must you trample on my insecurities?”

“You’re literally too overconfident.”

“No I’m not. I’m needy, remember?”

Chaewon shoots her a look, trying not to smile. “You heard what you said like ten seconds ago, right?”

“Yeah. I need assurance from my girlfriend that her seeing me flip crepes with these biceps makes her go ‘goo goo ga ga.’”

“Don’t ever say those words again,” Chaewon says, biting back laughter.

“But you’re laughing! Knew this bod was lethal.”

“It’s more the aegyo, but sure.”

Yunjin pouts dramatically when she hears “aegyo” but goes back to cooking, clearly pleased with herself.

Chaewon watches her for another moment, admiring the view for a little longer. Her own chest rises with something unspoken.

Without really deciding to, she walks over and wraps her arms around Yunjin’s waist from behind. The contact is immediate - warmth through the fabric, the faint citrus scent of her body wash. She rests her cheek against the curve of Yunjin’s neck, breathing her in.

“Let me make your breakfast in peace,” Yunjin sighs, voice low but affectionate.

“This isn't peaceful?” Chaewon mumbles into her hoodie.

Yunjin hums, the sound low and content. “Very peaceful. And impractical. But we’ll make it work.”

Yunjin’s voice has that hushed quality that always makes Chaewon’s chest swell - the one that feels like a promise even when it isn’t.

Chaewon closes her eyes, soaking in the simple bliss of the moment, the feeling of Yunjin in her arms, the softness of her voice as she starts to quietly sing again. If she could, she would hold on endlessly - with a steady but gentle grip, the same way Yunjin has unknowingly taught her to when this all began to effloresce. 

When Chaewon holds Yunjin, she embraces her for everything she is - her deafening laughter, her whispered confessions, her shadow in the dark, her radiating kindness, in this very second and the galaxy ahead.

To hold is to shoulder, to house, to cherish. And Chaewon wants to hold it all, constantly and for keeps.

💌

Day 2 – Friday afternoon, May 4, 2029

Chaewon taps her fingers against the desk, eyes fixed on the half-finished edit on her screen. The cursor blinks back at her - impatient, accusatory.

She tries to focus. She really does. But her mind keeps wandering back to the morning - and the night before: Yunjin’s melodic voice reverberating in the kitchen, the familiar sight of her looking slightly disheveled and naturally pretty. It all gnaws at the edges of her thoughts, refusing to let her work in peace.

It’s the version of her that Chaewon was very familiar with, back when spending the night at Yunjin’s apartment started to feel like second nature. The version of her that used to exist only in her memories now exists in front of her, under the same sunlight. Her stomach tightens at that fact.

It had always felt like an unspoken privilege. Seeing her in the everyday, the mundane yet the most personal, is what Chaewon treasured the most.

Those images were so far in the pockets of her mind, but seeing Yunjin like that again was a sharp reminder of how much she had cherished those moments of quiet intimacy.

Chaewon shakes her head, trying to push the thoughts away.

It’s just nostalgia, she tells herself. It was almost surreal seeing her in the kitchen, as if the years hadn’t passed, like they were right back in those cozy mornings at the apartment.

Seeing her ex-girlfriend in a familiar setting can likely summon similar feelings she had at that time. They’re just fond memories and it’s just muscle memory. That’s all it is.

But her eyes are unfocused again, and before she realizes, her fingers have already opened a new tab.

Instagram.

She hesitates only a second before her fingers instinctively type her username into the search bar: jennifhuh.

It’s purely for logistics. They needed to have a real conversation, off-camera, without anyone else meddling into their business. But after she hits enter, nothing familiar comes up.

Her brow knit together. It’s been a while, so it is possible that Yunjin has changed her account. She tries searching with her full name instead. Scrolls. Refreshes. Nothing. Chaewon sighs in defeat.

Her mind starts scrambling for an explanation. Yunjin’s account was probably private, since the producers had asked Chaewon to change her account settings before they started filming.

But being private was one thing. Being untraceable was something else and Yunjin wasn’t the type to suddenly disappear. She was too warm, too open - always embracing people, new experiences, new connections.

Chaewon bites her lip, feeling a sudden twist in her chest. Had Yunjin blocked her? 

It sends a jolt of disbelief through her. Does Chaewon block people? Of course she does - rude DMs, spam accounts, random creeps. That was normal. But this? This feels pointed.

Chaewon simply unfollows someone if she does not want to see what they’re up to. That’s exactly what she did when it was over between her and Yunjin. That was the normal thing to do, right?

Maybe Yunjin was on another social media detox. Or maybe she was so repulsed by seeing Chaewon in her feed that she decided to definitively erase her.

Chaewon frowns as she looks at the screen. While she isn’t delusional enough to think Yunjin had moved on without any lingering hurt, being blocked felt petty.

Despite how everything went down in the end, the Yunjin she knew wasn’t the type to be spiteful. She was forgiving, endlessly so. She was never one to cut ties so easily which is why Chaewon did what she had to do. 

She is tempted to look further, but it feels like a futile attempt to look for any kind of answer.

Chaewon shakes her head, mentally chastising herself. Why was she letting something as trivial as Instagram bother her so much? Blocked or not, it wasn’t like Yunjin had any reason to care about her life now. They hadn’t even spoken properly in years.

Embarrassment creeps over her. Two days ago, Yunjin was a name from another lifetime. Now she’s a search result that won’t load, and somehow that’s enough to throw her off.

Chaewon presses her palms to her face and groans quietly. She isn’t here to spiral, to stir up old feelings and wallow in nostalgia. She has a purpose, and she needs to focus on that.

With a deep breath, she straightens in her seat, giving herself a firm mental shake. “Get it together, Kim Chaewon,” she mutters under her breath.

She pushes back from the desk and stands, stretching her arms overhead until her shoulders crack. Time for a break. A reset.

The thought steadies her a little - enough to remember why she came here in the first place. This show isn’t about Yunjin, their history or any unresolved tension that may remain. This isn’t even about the ex-boyfriend who had suggested they participate in the first place. 

It’s about her. She’s here to promote her business, growing her following and make a couple of friends on the way.

And if she keeps repeating that, maybe it’ll start to feel true again.

💌

Yunjin smiles to herself as she empties the grocery bags onto the counter. The day’s been long, but the errand was a pleasant surprise - a rare stretch of normalcy in the constant haze of cameras.

The drive back had been surprisingly easy, too. Yeonjun, of course, had barely given her a choice in the seating arrangement, jumping into the back with Sakura the moment they walked to the car, leaving her and Jongseong up front.

She glances over at Jongseong now as he unpacks the snacks, his mellow but thoughtful demeanor still fresh in her mind. It amuses her how different he and Sakura seem compared to her and Yeonjun. Jongseong and Sakura are both a little more reserved, intellectual, and subtle in their humor. It was endearing, actually. Their charm complemented each other in the same way hers and Yeonjun’s does.

“Is it just Soobin and Kazuha cooking tonight?” Sakura asks from the other side of the counter.

Kazuha nods as she arranges the vegetables in neat rows. “I think so. Riki said he finishes work at 10. Heesun PD-nim said Chaewon had to stay back at work, so she’s running late.”

At the mention of her name, Yunjin’s hand pauses midair. She brushes it off, pretending to adjust the groceries, but there’s a faint pull in her chest she doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Chaewon being late shouldn’t mean anything. But Yunjin can’t help wondering if she’s really at work or just avoiding being here - avoiding her. The thought lingers like a headache she refuses to admit she has.

She pushes it aside and claps her hands lightly. It must be the residual guilt from earlier that’s causing her to be overly apprehensive.

“I can help you guys prepare dinner if you need an extra pair of hands,” she offers.

Kazuha looks up and smiles, clearly about to accept, but Jongseong beats her to it with a faint smirk.

“Just don’t chop the vegetables, please. We don’t need you donating more blood into our food.”

Yunjin shoots him an exaggerated glare, feigning offense. “Umm, thank you, Jongseong-ssi? I know Twilight is your favorite movie, but I didn’t realize you were this obsessed with blood.”

Yeonjun and Sakura try to contain their laughter when they see Jongseong’s eyes widen.

“Twilight? You’re full of surprises,” Soobin says, eyebrow raised.

“That was meant to stay in the car!” Jongseong only looks slightly betrayed as he laughs with them.

Kazuha claps her hands together excitedly. “I love those movies too!”

“Oh, good,” Yeonjun teases. “Now you don’t have to feel too ashamed, Jongseong.”

The laughter’s still rippling through the room when the front door opens with a hurried thud.

“Sorry I’m late!”

Chaewon rushes in, slightly breathless, bag still hanging off her shoulder. Strands of hair have come loose from her ponytail, framing her face in a way that looks almost too natural for television.

Yunjin looks up automatically, caught off guard by that hint of unease in Chaewon’s body language. She’s always moved like this - brisk, precise, a little clumsy when flustered.

Sakura’s the first to respond. “How was work?”

Chaewon exhales, running a hand through her hair. “It was… hard to focus today,” she admits, sheepish. “I blame the slight hangover.”

The group laughs, a shared moment of empathy softening the air. Chaewon leans forward against the counter, her shoulders finally relaxing. Yunjin mirrors the shift, almost unconsciously.

“You can freshen up while we get started,” Soobin offers. “Yunjin-ssi said she’d help, so she can take your place for now.”

Chaewon blinks, surprised. Then her expression softens into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll be quick!”

She gives a little wave before heading upstairs, jogging lightly - and Yunjin’s eyes follow before she can stop herself, her lips unknowingly curling up.

The bounce of her step. The way her hair moves. The faint sound of her feet shuffling as she disappears up the stairs.

“Cute,” Sakura says, watching her go. “Doesn’t she remind you of a puppy?”

The word hangs in the air, harmless but disarming.

Yunjin forces a small laugh, maybe a second too late. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

Puppy. It’s too easy to agree. Too easy to associate with memories of Chaewon’s excited giggles, her cute pouting, her sudden spike of energy when she spontaneously wanted to go on an adventure. 

Yunjin clears her throat and reaches for the cutting board, eager to sound normal again. "So what are we cooking, exactly?"

Kazuha grins, already peeling onions. “We’re making kimchi fried rice as a side.”

“Sounds great,” Yunjin replies, grateful for the distraction.

She picks up a knife, careful this time, and focuses on the rhythm of chopping.

💌

By the time the plates are mostly empty, the house hums with an easy warmth - a kind of post-meal glow that makes everyone just a little softer. The dining table is a mess of chopsticks, half-finished side dishes, and empty bottles.

Yunjin leans back in her chair, feeling the warmth of the somaek she’s just finished. As the conversation picks up around the dinner table, she can’t help but smile, feeling the relaxed atmosphere. It’s Friday night, and everyone seems eager to unwind after the week.

Soobin, seated next to Riki, leans forward and raises an eyebrow. “Can you handle your liquor? You were the only one who seemed fine this morning after last night.”

Riki chuckles. “I can drink about four, maybe five bottles of soju.”

“Five?!” Kazuha gasps.

The conversation naturally shifts to comparing alcohol tolerance. Yeonjun claims about two bottles, while Soobin and Sakura both say they were good with one and a half. Chaewon, sipping her drink, says she can handle around two as well.

As the light discussion continues, Kazuha suggests they move upstairs to the living room now that everyone has eaten. But just as they begin cleaning up the table, the doorbell rings.

Sakura volunteers to answer the door and soon returns with the same envelope they saw yesterday. A few of the others exchange looks, half-excited, half-apprehensive. Yunjin stands straight, her curiosity piqued.

“Should we clean up quickly so we can get upstairs and open it together?” Sakura asks.

Without a second thought, everyone scrambles to clear the table and wash the dishes, eager to find out what the prompt is. Yunjin quickly starts stacking plates while Kazuha and Soobin collect glasses and utensils.

“What do you guys think it is?” Riki asks as he wipes down the table.

“Maybe we can reveal more personal details,” Kazuha speculates with a hopeful tone. “Or maybe we get to meet new people?”

Yunjin quietly dries the dishes, determined to finish her task as efficiently as possible. Chaewon is beside her, doing the same thing, and while they haven’t exchanged any words during the cleanup, Yunjin could sense the unspoken rigidity from both sides.

So she keeps her focus on the plates, hoping to avoid drawing attention to the awkward silence that has fallen between them.

As she finishes drying the last plate, Jongseong walks over with a fresh bandage in hand. Yunjin blinks in surprise as he holds it out to her with his usual calm expression.

“Here, you might want to reapply this to your finger,” he says softly.

Yunjin smiles, appreciative of his thoughtfulness. “Thank you. Hope the fried rice didn’t taste too metallic.”

As Yunjin takes the bandage from him, Chaewon subtly observes the exchange. Though she doesn’t say a word, her eyes follow the interaction with a quiet attentiveness, taking in every detail.

Yunjin doesn’t have the guts to turn to Chaewon, so she isn’t sure if she was simply curious or wants to add something to the conversation. Either way, seeing this side of Chaewon feels better than the fumbling mess she had been until this evening.

💌

Once the table is completely cleared, the group quickly makes their way upstairs to the living room, excitement grows with each step.

The air feels lighter now - that post-dinner contentment that always makes everyone a little giddy. Someone jokes about who gets to sit where, and laughter bounces off the walls as they squeeze together on the couches, legs tucked under cushions, drinks still in hand.

They all settle into the cozy couches and chairs, everyone looking at Sakura expectantly. She opens the letter and quickly scans its contents, her face lights up immediately.

A ripple of excitement passes through the room, and they all begin talking at once, thrilled that they can finally share what they do for a living. Yunjin scans the room with an excited grin, already coming up with theories.

It feels fun - harmless, even. Something ordinary, a break from all the emotional undercurrents that are pulsing through the day.

“I’ve been dying to know!” Soobin said, glancing around the room.

“Same here,” Yeonjun agreed. “Sakura-ssi, do you want to choose who goes first?”

With the energy high, they decide to go around in a circle, starting with Riki.

He casually leans back and says, "I'm a dancer and choreographer."

Gasps of surprise fill the room, and Riki grins, a little shy but clearly pleased with their reaction.

"I teach at a dance academy in Mapo-gu and work for artists in Korea and Japan."

"That's so cool!" Kazuha exclaims, and the group chimes in with admiration.

The noise level rises again - overlapping voices, compliments, teasing questions about favorite idols he’s worked with. Yunjin finds herself laughing along, eyes bright. Moments like this are exactly what she's missed about group dynamics: the collective thrill of discovery.

Jongseong goes next, revealing he works as a financial analyst for a clothing brand, which Yunjin has half-expected given his systemic approach to most things.

He speaks in that calm, measured tone of his, and everyone nods like it makes perfect sense.

Soobin then shares that he is a translator and teaches Japanese at a language school, and when Chaewon asks if he studied it in college, Soobin smiles, saying he majored in computer science with a minor in Japanese.

Yunjin cannot help but smirk to herself, knowing exactly why Chaewon is curious.

But her smile falters as soon as Chaewon speaks.

“I’m a photographer,” voice clear and confident.

The room seems to still for a half-second, though everyone else reacts normally—murmurs of interest, small exclamations.

The words feel almost foreign, and for a moment, Yunjin wonders if she heard incorrectly. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it.

Chaewon is supposed to be teaching English by now, doing something she has been working toward for years.

Yunjin can hardly imagine her suddenly changing paths like that. Hasn't she always been so set on her plan? The Chaewon she knows has never mentioned any interest in photography, not once.

"Do you do a specific kind of photography?" Kazuha asks.

Chaewon nods and begins to explain. "I mainly do food, packaging, and advertising photography. I also have a studio in Seogyo-dong where I shoot portraits, so feel free to visit if any of you need some photos."

Yunjin feels a quiet confusion settle in. Her heartbeat thuds a little too loudly for something so trivial. Chaewon sits there, taking in everyone’s reaction, and when her gaze briefly flickers over to her, Yunjin notices the subtle, almost amused smile on her lips.

It is brief, but there is something about it that makes Yunjin reconsider what her mind has been obtusely factoring out.

Chaewon is allowed to, and most likely, has become someone different from who she has known.

"When did you decide to become a photographer?" Yunjin blurts out, unable to stop herself.

The question comes out more directly than she intends, but she cannot help it. Curiosity always gets the better of her and she is still processing the shock to maintain the facade of a polite stranger.

Chaewon seems momentarily taken aback, but recovers quickly.

"I was an English major in university and was aiming to be a teacher," she begins, confirming what Yunjin already knows. "But when I started working in my first job, I realized I hated it."

Chaewon looks in Yunjin’s direction but avoids meeting her eyes directly.

"So I started trying different hobbies to keep myself sane and ended up obsessed with photography."

As Chaewon answers more questions from the group, Yunjin feels the realization sink in. The light in the room feels different now - softer, almost diffused, like the energy has shifted without warning.

Time truly has passed. And in that time, Chaewon has changed, grown, and reshaped herself into someone Yunjin doesn’t quite recognize.

It has been chipping away since the morning, but there is finally a real crack in the plexiglass of preconceptions she has held - the memories of who Chaewon was and who she would have become.

Chaewon is perhaps now just a familiar face. She is someone with experiences, decisions, and a life that Yunjin is completely ignorant of.

Despite herself, Yunjin cannot help but begin to wonder what else has changed and what stories she hasn’t been around to witness.

The curiosity sits somewhere between warmth and unease - that ache of realizing she is more affected than she has any right to be.

She hides it well, offering a faint smile, but even as the group moves on to the next person, her mind doesn’t follow.

💌

Chaewon takes a few sips of her highball, the cold liquid washing away the dryness in her throat. The fizz prickles pleasantly, steadying her nerves. She can’t help but feel a bit smug after seeing Yunjin’s reaction. 

She has been eager to see how she would respond to her career change, and as expected, Yunjin’s face doesn’t lie. It pleases her in a way she can’t quite explain.

Around her, the conversation flows easily now that her turn is over. The faint buzz of alcohol, combined with the act of revealing something personal, leaves her feeling unexpectedly light.

It’s as if the tension that’s clung to her since the start of the show is finally starting to loosen, unwinding with every laugh and passing comment. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself together - why she’d been so nervy and restless.

Well, maybe she knows. But she isn’t ready to unpack that, not yet.

The group moves on to Kazuha, who reveals that she’s an interior designer for an architecture firm. The confession draws playful gasps. Chaewon finds it a little unexpected but charming all the same, and it feels like a fitting job for someone so lively and imaginative.

Yeonjun, however, surprises everyone with his revelation.

“I’m the owner of a dog grooming business in Yeonhui-dong.”

Chaewon blinks in surprise. The group’s reaction is instant - loud, amused, and full of questions. Yeonjun handles it with ease, laughing as he explains how he started it all. His hands move animatedly, his voice bright with pride. The laughter that follows is genuine, lightening the room even further.

Sakura follows, revealing she’s a developer for an enterprise software company, which also seems to surprise the group. Chaewon can’t help but be impressed, especially considering it’s a field she could never imagine herself getting into.

Her respect for Sakura grows quietly; the woman always seems so composed, yet clearly carries layers most wouldn’t expect.

Then it’s Yunjin’s turn.

Chaewon’s heart skips an uneasy beat, though she hides it behind another sip of her drink. The condensation on the glass dampens her fingertips, grounding her. She reminds herself that she has to react as if the reveal is completely unexpected.

When Yunjin speaks, her voice is confident but tinged with a shyness that Chaewon expects and still finds so endearing.

“I’m a music producer and songwriter,” Yunjin reveals, her voice just a little softer now, as if unsure how the group will respond.

The room fills with gasps and wide eyes. Compliments spill out - admiring, sincere. It fits her perfectly, everyone says. And it does.

Chaewon watches Yunjin try to hide her bashfulness, though there’s a soft glint of pride in her eyes as she takes in the group’s praise. She doesn’t bask in the attention, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that speaks of brewing confidence, of dreams fulfilled. The sight pulls at something old and familiar in Chaewon’s chest.

“Do you make music for others or is it your own?” Riki asks.

“I do both.” The cute smile on Yunjin’s lips curls wider the more questions she answers.

Chaewon finds herself smiling without meaning to. It’s a small thing, seeing Yunjin like this - elated to talk about one of her favorite things, and in a way that Chaewon recognizes. The Yunjin she knew has always spoken about her work and aspirations with that same kind of light in her eyes. And now she’s living that dream.

A warmth spreads through Chaewon’s chest before she can stop it. She feels oddly proud of Yunjin, even though it isn’t her place anymore to feel that way. Still, she can’t help it. She knows how hard Yunjin has worked for this, and now she knows it’s paid off.

A part of her wants to compliment and congratulate her, to tell Yunjin how proud she is that she’s made it. But she stops herself. This is exactly what she’s resolved not to do: get caught up in memories of the girl she used to know and let herself slip back into that soft spot.

The other part of her feels like she’s allowed this moment. Isn’t it okay to be happy for her? She’s moved on, hasn’t she? Chaewon can afford to feel a little pride for Yunjin’s success. After all, this is a monumental achievement, and she deserves it.

But Chaewon isn’t the type to overstep. Yunjin has been nothing but cordial, but there’s a distance, and Chaewon isn’t sure if she wants to risk disturbing the fragile balance they’ve built so far.

So instead, she keeps the moment to herself - an unexpressed, private acknowledgment of Yunjin’s achievements, something she has no right to claim but cherishes all the same.

She’s just glad she can witness it, even if it’s from afar.

For now, that has to be enough.

💌

Chaewon leans back against her chair, listening to the conversation that has shifted naturally now that everyone has revealed their jobs. There’s a kind of openness in the air, as if they’ve all crossed a threshold that makes everything else easier to talk about. The laughter that drifts between them feels softer now, rounded out by a growing sense of comfort.

Yeonjun, sitting with his phone out, is in the middle of showing everyone pictures of dogs he groomed that day when the doorbell rings again.

“I’ll get it!” Kazuha offers, bounding downstairs to check.

The group’s chatter continues in a lazy rhythm until Kazuha returns, holding the same-looking envelope from earlier.

“There’s another one,” she says, waving it for everyone to see. She opens it carefully and pulls out a letter first, her brows raising in surprise.

The room buzzes with immediate shock. Chaewon, like the others, blinks in disbelief. The air thickens with a mix of intrigue and apprehension.

“So we’re chatting with the ex of our date?” Sakura asks, her tone laced with both surprise and curiosity.

Kazuha nods, re-reading the letter just to be sure. “Seems like it,” she confirms.

“That’s crazy,” Yeonjun adds, his voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement.

Chaewon can’t help but agree. It’s bold, and the producers clearly aren’t wasting any time throwing them into the deep end. A small smirk tugs at her lips. As long as she doesn’t end up on a date with her ex, this could actually be fun. It’s been a while since she’s gone to one, after all.

Kazuha holds up the envelope again, showing that there are more pieces of paper inside. “The keywords are in here. We should look at them together.”

Feet start scuffling against the rug as Chaewon, along with the other girls, gets up from her seat and crowds around Kazuha on the couch. The space suddenly feels smaller - full of overlapping voices and perfume and warmth.

Yunjin sits on one side of Kazuha, Chaewon on the other, while Sakura squeezes in next to Chaewon. They all huddle close as Kazuha pulls out four cards from the envelope, each with an image and phrase describing different phases of a relationship: First Meeting, Talking Stage, First Date and Break Up.

The group falls silent for a moment, absorbing the significance of the keywords. The tension is playful but charged, everyone’s curiosity tempered by the unease of what it might mean. Chaewon, who has mentally prepared herself for something gutsy, finds them a little cruel.

“This is pretty bold,” Kazuha comments, staring at the cards.

“What’s with that last one?” Yunjin asks loudly, slightly taken aback by the idea of picking the Break Up card.

Chaewon blinks upon hearing her voice, suddenly aware of how close she is to Yunjin. Despite Kazuha sitting between them, it’s apparent she’s basically breathing the same air as her as they all lean in to get a better look at the cards.

The edge of Yunjin’s knee nearly brushes hers, and Chaewon catches a faint trace of her perfume - warm, musky, the kind that lingers like static in the air. It throws her slightly off balance. Her chest tightens in an unfamiliar way, and she blames the confined space, the shared body heat, the collective excitement.

She tries to bend back a little, but Sakura presses closer from the other side, craning her neck to get a better view. Chaewon ends up boxed in between them, her pulse quietly hammering in her throat.

The room feels louder now - every breath amplified, every movement magnified. It’s absurd how aware she is of something as small as the rise and fall of Yunjin’s shoulder beside her, or her soft hair that frames her profile.

“Do we need more time to deliberate, or should we start choosing?” Kazuha asks, her voice breaking the silence.

Eager to get out of the uncomfortable position, Chaewon impulsively volunteers. “If no one wants it, I’ll choose the Break Up card.”

A murmur of surprise ripples through the room. The girls look both thankful and slightly relieved by her boldness. Kazuha then picks the Talking Stage card while Sakura chooses First Date, leaving Yunjin with First Meeting.

The group settles back into their seats, laughter bubbling again as they speculate about what the dates might entail. Chaewon feels her phone buzz in her pocket. Hearing other phones ping at the same time, it seems everyone else has also received messages.

She quickly takes the opportunity to retreat back to her spot on the floor and pulls out her phone to read the message.

Show Announcements

You have chosen the keyword Break Up. Your date will be Soobin-ssi, who will provide the details for your date. Please do not reveal this information to the other participants.

A wave of relief washes over her. Soobin has been nothing but pleasant and easy to talk to so far. She already finds they have a few things in common, so she’s confident the date won’t feel too clumsy or awkward.

But more importantly, Soobin isn’t him. That’s what really matters.

As Chaewon looks up and sees the other girls reading their messages, it reminds her that they too will be going on dates. That includes Yunjin.

She can’t help but feel a flicker of pity. It could be anyone, but it could just as easily be her ex-boyfriend.

Her gaze lingers on Yunjin for a moment too long, and a strange sense of déjà vu creeps in. It brings her back to minutes earlier when they were looking over the keyword cards — the press of bodies, the faint scent of Yunjin’s shampoo, the warm edge of her voice too close to her ear.

Apparently, huddling toward Yunjin makes her nervous.

That’s weird, she thinks, furrowing her brow. She shakes her head slightly, trying to brush off the memory of her quickening pulse.

It’s nothing — just nerves about the results of the date, she reasons. That’s all it is. She’s been anxious about being paired with someone uncomfortable, so naturally she’s felt uneasy.

And now, knowing she isn’t going to be forced to go on a date with her ex, she’s relaxed.

She’s relaxed, isn’t she?

Chaewon lets out a quiet sigh, her mind working to push the strange feelings away. It’s better not to dwell on it. It’s just the show. And the circumstances surrounding it.

And that’s all.

💌

Yunjin sits still, silently trying to unpack her mixed feelings about her upcoming date as the hum of conversation fills the room.

The air feels easy - low laughter, overlapping chatter, the faint clink of glasses. She’s surprised by how relaxed everyone seems after the chaos of what happened moments earlier, like the tension has dissolved into background warmth.

She isn’t unhappy about who she’s “chosen.” She genuinely enjoys Jongseong’s company. There’s something calming about him - steady, deliberate, and a little dry in his humor. He’s easy to talk to, someone she can joke around with without worrying how it’ll sound later in the edit.

There’s nothing romantic about it, not even a spark. It’s simply nice to have a person she doesn’t have to overthink around.

Still, something about the process doesn’t sit right. The way the dates are framed, dressed up as ‘chance’, makes the whole thing feel slightly off. She knows it’s just production structure, a way to keep things interesting, but the illusion of autonomy grates on her. She wonders if the producers would’ve still paired her with Jongseong if she’d chosen a different keyword.

She let out a quiet sigh, pushing the thought away. Maybe she’s being too cynical. It’s not like she came here looking for anything serious anyway.

She’s come to terms with that early on - the fact that she isn’t here to find romance, not really. And yet, the reminder that all of this is a setup - the cameras, the mics, the dates - leaves her faintly uneasy.

“Soobin, did you ever live in Japan to learn the language?” she asks, deciding to shift her focus back to the conversation.

Soobin nods, sipping from his glass. “Yeah, I lived in Sapporo for about a year.”

“Sapporo?” Sakura asks, her curiosity piqued.

Soobin nods again.

“Whereabouts is Sapporo?” Chaewon chimes in.

Riki cuts in to explain. “It’s in the northern part of Japan, really far from Tokyo.”

“Oh, I see,” Chaewon replies, nodding thoughtfully.

Soobin glances around the group. “Has anyone else lived overseas?”

Yeonjun raises his hand. “I moved to America in middle school. I came back to Korea about two years ago.”

Jongseong’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, where did you live?” he asks, leaning forward, voice bright with genuine curiosity.

“San Jose,” Yeonjun says with a grin.

Jongseong’s whole expression lights up. “No way! I was born in Washington and lived there until I was eleven!”

The sudden animation between them draws the group’s attention. Yunjin watches with a smile, enjoying the shift. The energy’s contagious - the kind that makes her forget, for a few moments, that they’re being filmed.

“West Coast!” Yeonjun shouts in English, holding his hand out for a dap. The group laughs.

Sensing the perfect chance to tease, Yunjin leans in, grin mischievous. “Is that why you love Twilight so much?”

Jongseong gasps, overacting immediately. “Shh! Stop spilling my secrets!”

“Twilight?” Riki asks, confused but amused.

“It’s Jongseong’s favorite movie of all time,” Yunjin says, tone gleefully conspiratorial. “It’s a modern vampire love story set in Washington.”

The table erupts into laughter. Sakura, amused by the repeated reference, turns to Yunjin. “How do you know so much about Twilight?”

Yunjin shrugs with a grin. “It was popular with my friends. I grew up in America, too.”

Kazuha, intrigued, asks, “Where in America?”

“New York,” Yunjin replies casually. The name slips out easily, but she feels a few heads turn toward her.

“Whoa, New York?” Kazuha blinks. “When did you move to Korea?”

“It’s been a little over a year,” Yunjin answers.

The curiosity around her feels warm, genuine - the kind of interest she can relax into.

Soobin turns to Chaewon next, keeping the rhythm going. “Chaewon-ssi, didn’t you say you were an English major? Have you ever lived abroad?”

Yunjin’s attention shifts instantly. She notices the small hesitation before Chaewon answers - a pause that lasts barely a breath but feels longer to her.

“Yeah... I lived in America for a little under two years, after I graduated from university.”

Yeonjun perks up, grinning. “West Coast?”

Chaewon shifts slightly in her seat before shaking her head. “New York.”

“Oh my god, it’s not even the same coast. Same city!” Yeonjun exclaims, pointing between Yunjin and Chaewon.

The room reacts exactly how it’s supposed to: excited, surprised, delighted by coincidence. Yunjin forces a small smile, but her pulse skips. The mention hits sharper than she expects.

It’s harmless. Totally harmless. Still, her stomach knots.

“You guys could have totally crossed paths at some point. That’s so cool,” Riki comments.

“They probably have and are just pretending to not know each other,” Soobin adds with a teasing smirk.

Everyone laughs - too easily, too naturally - but the air feels suddenly thinner to Yunjin. Her laugh joins theirs, practiced and breezy, but there’s a tremor beneath it.

She sneaks a glance at Chaewon.

The other girl’s expression flickers for just a second - the faintest shadow of panic before smoothing into calm. Then she says, quickly, “I didn’t make a lot of friends while I was there.”

Yunjin huffs out a quiet breath she hopes no one hears. She catches that microexpression too clearly - the hesitation, the strain in Chaewon’s tone. She keeps her gaze fixed on her a little longer, as if she could make her look back.

But Chaewon doesn’t.

And it stings. Not deeply, not in a way she’ll ever admit, but enough for her to feel it like a bruise she can’t touch.

Is it that awful to be associated with me? she thinks. Even hypothetically?

Her pride steps in fast, patching over the ache before it can spread. She straightens slightly, masking the flicker of hurt behind an easy shrug. “Yeah, New York is really dense. Most of the people you meet on the street you’ll never see again,” she says, her tone coming out flatter than she intends.

It lands, the conversation skimming past her words like a stone on water.

Feeling suddenly deflated, she turns to Kazuha instead, hoping to redirect the focus. “Have you lived overseas?”

Kazuha nods. “I lived in the Netherlands for a year.”

The group bursts into surprise. Yunjin’s eyebrows rise with everyone else’s.

“For an exchange program?” Soobin asks.

Kazuha shakes her head. “No, I was an international student.”

“Studying interior design?” Sakura guesses.

“Nope,” Kazuha replies, her grin widening. “Ballet.”

The group’s reaction is immediate and loud. Yunjin gasps, half-laughing, half-stunned. “Who are you?”

Her genuine shock - jaw dropped, eyes wide - sends Kazuha into a fit of laughter. The sound is infectious, and soon everyone’s laughing again, the awkward tension dissolved into something bright and familiar.

Amid the uproar, everyone’s phones buzz at the same time. The laughter quiets instantly. Yunjin exhales, oddly relieved for the interruption. She glances down at her screen.

Show Announcements

Day 2 is almost over. Who is the person who made your heart flutter today?
Please leave the person’s name and the message you would like to send. Please do not move to another room and send the message now.

No one has made her heart flutter. But Jongseong is the obvious choice - not out of interest, but logic. Of all the guys, she’s spent the most time with him today and genuinely enjoyed his company. His cheekiness surprises her, and she appreciates that he never takes himself too seriously.

She knows exactly what to write.

Smirking, she types out her message, satisfied with her own cleverness.

Show Announcements

Please send this message to Jongseong-ssi. “Guess the wolf’s out of the bag.”

She slips her phone back into her pocket and looks around. Most people are already done typing, waiting for whatever comes next.

Sakura breaks the silence. “We haven’t moved on from the fact that Kazuha was a ballerina in training, right?”

Enthusiastic murmurs follow.

Kazuha shakes her head quickly. “I was just going to ballet school! Becoming a ballerina is really hard.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks, and Yunjin smiles, genuinely endeared by her modesty. “We have to see you dance,” she says, teasing gently.

Kazuha glows even redder, shaking her head. “No way! We already have a dancer here who actually does it for a living.”

Riki, unfazed, says with a relaxed grin, “I’m nothing special. I think what we all want to see is something we don’t come across everyday - a classically trained ballet dancer.”

Kazuha groans dramatically as everyone laughs again - but before she can defend herself, all their phones buzz once more.

Yunjin opens hers and immediately bites her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Show Announcements

You have received a message: “How you liking the rain, girl? 🤪”
Your ex did not send you a message.

She knows exactly who it’s from - and can’t believe they’ve basically read each other’s minds. The coincidence makes her grin.

Despite knowing their date will be recorded for national television, she’s glad it’s with someone who matches her wavelength - someone she can simply have fun with and apparently shares her last brain cell.

And for tonight, that’s all she needs.

💌

With the necessary formal elements of the show finally out of the way, the group seems keen on keeping the night going. The mood is light, easy - laughter drifting between sips of drinks, the faint hum of late-night energy still lingering in the shared air.

As the conversation flows, Soobin casually brings up birthdays. “When’s everyone’s birthday?” he asks. “Mine is December 5th.”

Riki’s head shoots up, eyes bright. “No way! Mine’s December 9th!”

Soobin chuckles, delighted by the coincidence, and raises a fist toward Riki, who bumps it eagerly.

Kazuha glances up, her tone soft but cheerful. “Mine’s August 9th.”

Yunjin perks up, catching the number before she realizes why it sounds familiar.

“Oh, really? Mine’s August 1st,” Chaewon says.

The small coincidence gets a round of laughter. Kazuha grins and raises her fist toward Chaewon, who meets it without hesitation, laughing along with the group. The sound is genuine - light and fleeting - and Yunjin can’t help but notice the faint sparkle of ease in Chaewon’s expression.

Next, the attention turns to Jongseong, who shifts awkwardly in his seat.

 “It was last month,” he says, tone vague, almost hoping they’ll move on.

Yeonjun, ever the instigator, raises a brow. “On which day?”

Jongseong sighs, the corner of his mouth twitching. “April 20th.”

“Oh? Two weeks ago?” Yeonjun asks.

Jongseong nods.

“What did you do for your birthday?” Sakura asks curiously.

He scratches the back of his neck, pausing like he’s not sure what counts as an answer. “I had to work late, so I didn’t really do anything. Just another Friday.”

The group reacts immediately - soft gasps, sympathetic noises. Yunjin’s chest tightens. He says it so casually, like it’s nothing, but she feels the quiet heaviness underneath it. The idea of someone spending their birthday alone, uncelebrated, hits something tender in her.

“You didn’t do anything? Did you at least have seaweed soup?” Sakura asks, clearly scandalized.

“I was really busy that day, so I think I skipped breakfast,” Jongseong admits with a shrug, brushing it off.

“We should throw you a belated party!” Yeonjun declares, always the enthusiastic one.

But Jongseong waves his hands quickly. “It’s already well past it now. I don’t need a party.”

“Yes you do. It’s totally something worth celebrating,” Soobin insists.

“No, it’s fine, really,” Jongseong pleads, voice low and almost embarrassed.

“But it only happens once a year!” Riki chimes in.

Yunjin frowns slightly, her gaze softening. There’s something behind Jongseong’s refusal that doesn’t feel like disinterest - more like self-protection. Maybe he just doesn’t like attention. Or maybe he’s too used to being the one who downplays things, the one who doesn’t expect much from others.

The group keeps teasing him, voices overlapping, the atmosphere warm despite the disagreement. It’s the kind of noise that feels like comfort - and exhaustion all at once.

In the middle of it, Chaewon stands up suddenly, her chair scraping lightly against the floor. “I’m going to make some bibim-myeon. Does anyone want any?”

Several heads nod immediately.

“I’ll help,” Jongseong says, getting up with a sigh that sounds half playful, half resigned.

Yunjin watches as the two leave the room, the sound of their footsteps fading down the stairs.

As soon as they disappear, Riki leans in conspiratorially. “We should still do something for him.”

“Are we sure this is what he wants?” Yunjin asks, glancing around. “What if he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday?”

Yeonjun waves her concern off, confident as ever. “It just sounds like he felt bad about us going out of our way. I think he’ll appreciate it.”

Yunjin presses her lips together, considering that. Yeonjun’s optimism usually wins out, but sometimes it blinds him too. Still, she doesn’t push the point.

“We don’t have to do anything too crazy. A cake after dinner shouldn’t be too burdensome, right?” he adds, his grin infectious.

Her gaze drifts toward the door Jongseong walked through. She still can’t get a clear read on him. Friendly, yes. Grounded, definitely. But there’s something quieter behind his easy smiles — something that makes her want to tread gently.

Yunjin nods slowly. “Yeah... that sounds good.”

Soobin speaks up, tone bright and decisive. “We could make seaweed soup for breakfast tomorrow. We have the ingredients, right?”

“Does anyone know how to make it?” Kazuha asks.

“I do,” Yunjin says automatically. “We have enough beef from today, so we just need dried seaweed.”

Soobin’s eyes light up. “I could duck out to the convenience store tonight. Would you mind making it, Yunjin?”

She smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Sakura clasps her hands together, her energy infectious. “We should get some decorations too. We can pick them up with tomorrow’s groceries.”

“That’s a good idea. I can organize the cake,” Soobin says, straightening with a mock sense of duty.

Their voices rise again - light, cheerful, overlapping plans and jokes. The kind of chaos that fills a space with warmth. But for Yunjin, it begins to fade at the edges, muffled like sound underwater.

She leans back into the couch, the plush cushion swallowing her shoulders. Her body feels heavier than before.

The laughter continues around her, but it barely reaches. The adrenaline from earlier has thinned into a kind of quiet fatigue.

The emotional whiplash of the past few hours catches up with her - the constant smiling, the perfectly timed laughter, the effort it takes to seem unbothered.

And then there’s Chaewon.

Her mind flickers back to the earlier conversation - Chaewon’s quick denial about New York, the flash of panic she caught in her eyes. The memory needles her now, threading unease through her tiredness. Did I push too hard? she wonders. Even unintentionally, it felt like she’d exposed something Chaewon didn’t want seen.

This morning’s quiet distress replays in her mind - that vulnerable, unguarded moment she wasn’t supposed to notice.

Yunjin exhales softly, the sound barely more than air. How long can she keep up this charade, this careful tiptoeing around a shared past? The constant self-monitoring, the persistent awareness of Chaewon, the unspoken history hanging between them, is exhausting to say the least.

She doesn’t need Chaewon’s friendship. But the thought of weeks more of this - tension, silence, deliberate distance - feels heavy.

Earlier tonight, their eyes had met for a brief second. Yunjin had offered a smile, tentative and neutral. Chaewon had looked away almost immediately.

That small rejection - barely perceptible to anyone else - still lingers.

Enough.

The silent decree forms in her mind, a small act of rebellion against the exhausting performance. Enough of the careful words, the averted gazes, the walking on eggshells.

💌

Chapter Text

Tuesday 1:30am, August 1, 2023 – Six years earlier

“See you in the afternoon, Anna.”

Her colleague holds the door open for Chaewon as she closes her locker. She gives a tired smile, her legs aching from all the hours of standing up.

“Goodnight, Mason,” she replies as she makes her way through the door.

Chaewon grips onto her bag as she walks her way onto the main footpath. It’s been a long shift, the clatter of plates and the incessant hum of the kitchen still ringing in her ears. Her feet have been killing her since halfway through dinner service. All she wants to do is hop in the shower then collapse on her sofa bed.

The late summer air is thick with the scent of exhaust and fig leaves. As she steps outside, in her peripheral vision she can see someone hanging around the front of the restaurant, hovering towards her. The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows. So she looks straight ahead and quickens her pace, already steering away from them.

“Wait up, Chaewon-unnie!”

The slightly panicked but familiar voice stops her in her tracks. She turns around, a sigh of relief escaping her lips, and jumps a little when sees Yunjin. She rushes towards Chaewon, her pretty face illuminated by the glow of the streetlights, and stops right in front of her.

“Yunjin?” is all that she can muster up. It’s probably because she’s shocked, or tired, or both. Her mind is a hazy blur, unable to process the sight of Yunjin at this late hour.

“Someone’s in a rush. You almost missed me,” she says with a smirk.

Chaewon blinks a few times in rapid succession, as if to confirm Yunjin’s presence. It’s indeed a surprise. Yunjin is bouncing on her feet slightly, her eyes wide and bright, using both hands to hold a small tote bag.

“What are you doing here?” Chaewon blurts out, brain and mouth still not cooperating.

Yunjin scratches the back of her neck, a nervous habit Chaewon has come to recognize. “I was waiting for you.”

Chaewon tilts her head, struggling to catch up. “Me?”

Yunjin nods.

“It’s not safe to be out here by yourself at this time,” she says with a frown. But Chaewon isn’t scolding her. She’s just genuinely confused, a flicker of unease warming her tired heart.

Yunjin brushes her words off with a shrug, her gaze dropping to the pavement. “I wasn’t out here for long. I wanted to give you something as soon as you finished work.” She lifts the tote bag towards Chaewon.

“What is it?” Chaewon asks as she takes it carefully with both hands.

“Open it.”

Chaewon reaches into the bag and finds an insulated food jar, the metal cool against her skin. Puzzled but curious, she screws the lid open and is welcomed with a familiar aroma. The savory scent of seaweed and beef fills her senses, a wave of warmth washing over her. Her stomach is the first to react, growling softly, a reminder of the skipped dinner.

Chaewon quietly gasps. The color has never been the most appetising looking thing in the world - a murky green. But seeing and smelling what’s inside transports her straight back to home, sitting at the dining table on the morning of every birthday as her mother places down a bowl filled to the brim. No words escape her as she dwells on the memories, a hidden smile growing as she stares at the soup.

Taking her silence as a bad sign, Yunjin starts rambling. “Sorry, this is weird isn’t it? You probably just wanted to head straight home after working so late. I know it’s not the weather for it but I just thought since-”

“Seaweed soup?” Chaewon looks up and sees Yunjin nodding, her fingers fidgeting and eyes filled with a nervous hope.

“Today is your birthday, right? August 1? Or did I get it wrong?” Yunjin’s voice falters towards the end. 

Chaewon shakes her head, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “No, you got it right.”

She gives Yunjin a bigger smile to reassure her, and sees her let out a deep breath.

“That’s good. Happy birthday, unnie.”

“Thanks. You’re the first one to say it.”

Yunjin finally smiles back, without the nerves this time. “That’s what I wanted.”

She’s beaming, like how the sun’s rays were blazing through her bedroom window this morning. Chaewon doesn't know why, but this specific radiance is a little too much for her to handle so she looks back at the soup, suddenly finding it visually interesting. The steam rising from the jar is a soft, comforting cloud. That’s when her brain finally catches up.

“Did you make this for me because it’s my birthday?”

Yunjin hums in agreement, a little shy but proud of herself. “It didn’t take long. Making it actually made me realize how quick and simple the recipe is.”

“Didn’t you have a deadline yesterday?” Chaewon furrows her eyebrows, a hint of concern in her voice, and Yunjin slightly avoids her gaze, a blush creeping up her neck.

“I did. But I finished everything on time. Besides, it’s your first birthday away from home and you kept mentioning that you were craving Korean food and I know this definitely isn’t up to par but I wanted you to feel something akin to home while you were here. So, yeah.”

She hasn’t tried the soup yet, but Chaewon already feels its warmth spread through her chest. “You came all the way here just to give me this?” her voice is softer now, more vulnerable.

Yunjin shrugs. “It’s honestly not that far.” 

“It is. But thank you.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing,” Chaewon insists, her eyes lingering on Yunjin’s face, suddenly finding her endearing in ways that feel dangerous.

Yunjin laughs, her nervousness easing. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

Chaewon chuckles, shaking her head. “I could say the same for you. There’s no need to downplay your gift. It’s really thoughtful of you.”

Yunjin’s face brightens even more. “I’m just glad you like it. For a second I thought I completely missed the mark and was ready to roll down the subway entrance.”

Chaewon chuckled at the image in her mind, the sound echoing in the quiet street. “You’re so silly. A text would have been more than enough.”

“Maybe I’ll do that for your next birthday. Or you could always fly me out to Incheon airport and I’ll have another thermos ready for you.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “I think my mom’s got that covered once I go back home.”

Yunjin laughs as she nods. “Good point.”

Chaewon screws the lid back onto the food jar and puts the bag around the shoulder. “Let’s go to my place. You’re clearly too tired to go home by yourself.”

Yunjin blinks at her, unsure if she heard correctly. “What?”

“I’m not letting you take Smith 9th Street at this hour.”

Chaewon starts walking while Yunjin is frozen in her spot, her eyes wide with surprise. She turns around after taking a few steps. “Hurry up, sleepy head. I want to try some of the soup before I go to bed.”

She smiles when Yunjin jogs up to her, noting to herself that she looks like a lost puppy with those big eyes. She feels Yunjin reach towards her book bag.

“It’s fine. I can carry both,” she says as she pushes Yunjin’s hands away.

She huffs in response. “I’m not going to allow the birthday girl to carry two bags while I carry nothing.”

Amused by her persistence, Chaewon hands her the bag. “Fine. I’ll only allow it today.”

The chuffed grin on Yunjin’s face makes her look so darn cute. But Chaewon decides to keep that information to herself. She’s been doing that a lot recently. Observing, deciphering and then keeping a lid on it. It’s a little overwhelming and very confusing, foraging her feelings, knowing it’s familiar but different at the same time, putting together puzzle pieces without a reference.

Chaewon has never been the type to speak on something she doesn’t understand, which is why she continues to keep it all to herself. But her soul is bursting at the seams today and it makes her want to be a bit reckless.

She’s not sure why it’s needed, but after a few minutes of comfortable silence, she musters up the courage to look up at Yunjin.

“Yunjin-ah.”

She must hear the weight in her voice, because when she turns to Chaewon her eyes are waiting with curiosity.

“I’m really glad I met you. You’re really special.”

Yunjin just smiles, quickly and widely, like she’s overflowing with whatever is brewing inside her.

“And a really cool dongsaeng,” she quickly adds. Because it’s a little too loaded. She needs padding for a safe landing.

Something flickers across Yunjin’s face, too quick for Chaewon to catch fully. Yunjin smiles at her again - still genuine, but more restrained.

“Thanks, unnie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

💌

Day 3 – Saturday, May 5, 2029

Yunjin drags her feet as she walks through the hallway, each step weighed down by the remnants of too little sleep and too much conversation. She had been sensible enough to stop drinking early last night, but the non-stop chatter that had stretched into the early hours still buzzed faintly in her ears.

Not that she regrets it. She loves that everyone is opening up more and has definitely been contributing to the yapping herself. Besides, she had offered to make the belated birthday soup, and she meant it. Still, enthusiasm is hard to summon with sleep clinging stubbornly to her limbs.

As she nears the kitchen, the clinking of utensils piques her interest. She wonders which psycho was ambitious enough to stay up the whole night.

“Oh. Soobin?”

He turned from the counter, a faint smile on his face. "Good morning."

She shuffles in, already easing a little at the familiar calm he always seems to bring.

“Good morning. Why are you up so early?” she asks, voice still husky with sleep.

“It’s just my body clock.”

Yunjin raises her brow. Soobin sighs.

“Also, I felt bad about you having to wake up by yourself when I basically initiated the whole thing.”

Yunjin shakes her head, already reaching for the dried seaweed from the cupboard. “Please don’t feel bad. I’m actually excited about the party. And I wanted to help.”

“That’s good to hear, but I also want to help you make it.”

“It’s a really simple recipe. You really don’t have to feel bad.”

“I’m already awake,” he cuts in with a shrug. “Might as well do something useful.”

She chuckles, a soft breath of amusement at his persistence. “I suppose I can use some company.”

“Great. Let’s get started, chef-nim,” Soobin replies with a soft laugh.

Yunjin unlocks her phone and shows him the recipe from her Notes app. “Could you check we have everything else on the ingredient list and start measuring? I’ll cut the beef.”

Soobin’s eyes skims the list before moving to the fridge.

As they begin their quiet choreography in the kitchen, Soobin asks, "How are you finding everything so far? Do you feel like you're settling in?"

“I think so,” she answers, a yawn tugging at her jaw. “The first day felt like walking into a very elaborate social experiment”

Soobin laughs lightly, pouring sesame oil into a small bowl. “I think we all felt like that. But you’ve seemed more relaxed now.”

“I think I am,” Yunjin says, a small smile touching her lips as she remembers the easy laughter from the night before. “Everyone’s been really fun and warm. It’s been nice getting to know them.”

Soobin nods. “Definitely. I noticed you seemed a little on edge that first day, though.”

“Oh really?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well… you almost chopped the tip of your finger off,” he teases.

Yunjin bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Oh my god, you’re right!”

The memory settles on her with surprising clarity. She remembers the tremble in her hands that day - not from nerves about cooking, but from the sight of her. The shock, the forced tight-lipped smile, the feeling of being flung years backward.

“I almost forgot about that,” she says, shaking her head with a rueful grin. “I think I was a little… preoccupied that day. But things feel much more normal now.”

Soobin nods understandingly as he starts soaking the seaweed. “You seem like a natural in the kitchen now. Or is this secretly your signature dish?”

Yunjin shakes her head. “I haven’t made it in a long time.”

“When was the last time?”

Her hands still and it all barrels into her mind before she can stop it - Brooklyn, late summer. The smell of exhaust and fig leaves. Her gripping the tote bag for dear life to calm her nerves. Chaewon blinking at her in surprise, eyes soft with exhaustion and something unspoken.

A soft smile plays on her lips as she remembers the specific mix of nervousness and pride she felt making that soup for Chaewon’s birthday. Things felt so simple then. A straightforward expression of care. Now, everything felt layered with unspoken history and carefully constructed walls.

She blinks, realizing Soobin is waiting for her answer.

“Oh,” she says, a little flustered at being caught in her thoughts. “It was back when I lived in New York.”

She busies herself with putting the beef into the pot, the sizzling as she stirs it becoming a grounding sound. Soobin nods understandingly as he chops in the garlic on the board.

“Seems like you have a lot of great memories there.”

“I do,” Yunjin replies, her voice a little pensive as she continues to stir. “It was everything I knew before I moved here two years ago. It feels like a different lifetime now.”

The girl who stayed up late to make seaweed soup for her friend’s birthday felt both familiar and distant.

“I can imagine,” Soobin says gently. “Moving countries is a big adjustment.”

“It is,” Yunjin agrees, finally meeting his gaze. “It changes you.”

She leaves the thought hanging there, not wanting to delve too deeply into her personal history just yet. There’s a quiet beat before she pivots.

“You lived in Sapporo for a year, didn’t you? What was that like?” she asks, trying to change the subject.

It’s strange. Seeing Chaewon on the first day felt like a shockwave. Now? It’s just… quite awkward. Still a reminder of everything, but not the same overwhelming trigger. A sense of weary acceptance settles over her.

💌

The morning sunlight filters weakly through the curtains, not quite enough to fully dispel the lingering haze in Chaewon’s head. She stretches, groaning softly. Last night was… a lot. The conversations had been good, even fun, but somewhere around the revelation of occupations, a familiar moodiness had crept in. 

Maybe she’d had one highball too many, or maybe the undercurrent of the past had just become too loud. That familiar heaviness had crept in- quiet, invisible, mean. She hates how it snuck up on her like that, always when she thought she was doing well.

But today was going to be different. She sat up with quiet determination.

New day. New energy. She isn’t going to let herself spiral over something she couldn’t name.

She tugs an oversized t-shirt over her head and plods down the stairs, rehearsing a lightness she doesn’t fully feel. If she smiles enough, if she pretends well enough, maybe it will become true. That has worked for her before.

The scent hits her halfway down the hallway - warm, familiar, savory. Her stomach grumbles involuntarily. Good. She is starving, and food always helps.

Stepping into the kitchen, she sees Jongseong, Kazuha, Riki, and Yeonjun already seated at the table, bowls in front of them. There is something comforting about the casual energy in the room - the soft clinks of spoons, the easy rhythm of morning conversation.

“Good morning,” Chaewon greets, adding a cheerful note into her voice.

“You’re up,” Yeonjun calls out, waving a hand towards a pot on the stove. “We’re having seaweed soup. You should totally try some.”

Chaewon blinks. It is a little odd, but then again, nothing about this house is particularly normal. She must have missed some conversation last night. Still, her love for miyeokguk overshadows any confusion.

“Oh, really? I love seaweed soup,” she says, her smile becoming genuine as she reaches for a bowl.

“Same. And this one is really good,” Riki replies, taking another spoonful.

She ladles a generous amount into her bowl, the murky green color a familiar sight, the steam curling invitingly. Sitting between Kazuha and Jongsong, she takes a tentative first spoonful and a wave of warmth spreads through her. The taste is somehow incredibly comforting.

A genuine sense of ease settles over her. This is what she needs: a home-cooked meal, good company. She finds herself chatting easily with the others, asking Kazuha about her early morning routine and laughing at one of Yeonjun’s silly jokes. The awkwardness of the previous night seems to melt away with each spoonful.

“Wow, this is tasty,” Chaewon comments, gesturing with her spoon. “Did one of you make it?”

Her spoon freezes mid-air. The ceramic clicks against the edge of the bowl as she slowly lowers it. The warmth curdles in her stomach, a quiet coil of tension replacing the ease. Of course it was Yunjin.

The memory arrives uninvited - the first meal that had made New York feel less lonely. A food jar emanating warmth as she held it in her hands, Yunjin standing in front of her, eyes wide with nervous pride.

Yunjin’s expression from that night is still so vivid - hopeful, earnest, open in a way that made Chaewon feel both special and incredibly undeserving. Back then, she hadn’t had the words for what it meant.

Yunjin was the kind of person who did things quietly but wholeheartedly. She didn’t make the soup to cheer her up. She made it to say, I see you. I remember you.

Chaewon stares down at her bowl. The steam rising off it no longer smells like comfort. It smells like guilt. Like history.

Yunjin has done nothing wrong. She is just being her usual sincere self, doing something kind for someone else. And yet, Chaewon feels wronged. Again, not by Yunjin, but by the ache of the memory.

The feeling of being unfairly blindsided by this unexpected echo of their past, twists in her gut. Or perhaps it is the fact that Yunjin can still make her feel this much without even being in the room.

Her chest tightens as she fights to swallow the lump in her throat. She has promised herself a positive outlook but here she is, caught in a trap of bittersweet memories and resentment she can’t articulate.

Next to her, Jongseong, who is quietly eating, pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth. He glances at her, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, clearly noticing the sudden, stark shift in her demeanor.

Chaewon stares harder at her bowl, hoping the warmth can melt the sudden chill inside her.

💌

Chaewon keeps her eyes on the car window, watching the sunny afternoon blur by in streaks of orange hues and grey concrete. It’s the kind of scenery you can look at without really seeing, perfect for drifting in and out of conversations without getting caught.

She lets the others’ voices wash over her. Kazuha is ranking her top five bakeries for salt bread. Riki breaks down his usual weekend schedule, his busiest days at the studio with classes booked to the brim. Soobin, unhurried and gentle, chimes in about his own love for baked goods as he drives the four of them.

Chaewon even manages to laugh - thin, delayed, a little hollow - when their banter turns playful. But when Soobin asks her what she does on weekends, her mind goes white.

“Oh, not much,” she says, forcing casualness. “Sometimes I work. Recently I’ve been getting into running.”

It isn’t a lie. Running has been one of her lifelines since moving back to Korea - a time where her thoughts lose their grip and her body takes over. She likes the ache in her muscles, the way her lungs burn, the rhythm of her shoes pounding pavement.

But even that wouldn’t have worked today. Not with the taste of seaweed soup still coating her tongue, dragging her backward instead of forward.

An ache is still there. A quiet pressure beneath her ribs.

She feels like she is trapped in a glass box. She can see everyone, hear them, answer when addressed. She can laugh at the right cues and nod at the right times.

But she isn’t inside the moment. Not really. The world buzzes along in a happy bubble of chatter while she stays pressed against the walls, stuck in a memory six years old.

What is this? The question loops endlessly.

It isn’t anger. It isn’t even sadness. It is uglier, harder to pin down. Resentment, maybe - though not the kind you can justify.

Is she resentful of Yunjin for being so effortlessly sincere? Of herself for still reacting like this? Or of the producers, who have accidentally put her in the perfect petri dish for all her old wounds to bloom?

Chaewon clenches her hands in her lap. She needs to stop. She needs the lightness she had promised herself this morning. She needs to be present.

When they arrive at the grocery store, the bright lights and bustling aisles feel like a sudden jolt. Soobin suggests they split up to buy things more quickly.

"I'll go with Kazuha," Riki offers, and Chaewon finds herself following Soobin with something close to relief. 

He notices her quietness but doesn't push. He doesn’t demand her energy. Instead, he wordlessly hands her the trolley, the cool metal handle grounding her, and begins scanning the shelves.

“Have you tried the soup today?” he asks quietly, as if he knows to keep his voice low.

Chaewon’s throat tightens. “Yeah,” she says carefully. “It was really good.”

"I thought so, too,” he says. “So, where do you run?"

She lets herself answer more fully than she expects - routes, distances, the way she prefers river paths to city streets. The words tumble out in fragments, but Soobin doesn’t seem to mind. His steady curiosity is a rope pulling her back into the present, one small question at a time.

At the bakery section, he glances at her. “We should get the birthday cake. Any ideas?”

A clear image flashes in Chaewon’s mind. “Pistachio,” she blurts out, the word escapes before she can think better of it.

“Bold choice. Pistachio is quite unique,” he comments.

“Is it? The one they make here is popular online,” she reasons quickly, her voice a little too loud. “I saw it on Naver Map.”

Soobin studies her for a moment, unreadable, then smiles. Chaewon lets out a breath, half-relieved, half-defensive as he asks the clerk for the cake.

As they continue to talk, Soobin grows a little quieter. For a moment, Chaewon wonders if she blows her cover, until he finally says, “Are you okay to leave around 12 tomorrow? For our date.”

Chaewon blinks. Date. The word feels like a stone dropped in still water. She’d forgotten entirely.

Guilt burns at the edges of her chest. Soobin has been nothing but considerate all day, letting her stumble through half-answers, steadying her without fanfare. And she’s given him so little in return.

She owes him better. She owes herself better.

And suddenly, the clarity comes. Not a lightning bolt, but a slow aligning of puzzle pieces. She can’t keep running from this tension, from the pull of the past.

Pretending isn’t working. Avoiding isn’t working. The only way out is through. If she wants to breathe during the rest of this show, she needs to talk to Yunjin.

"Yeah," she replies, her voice is firmer this time, an almost audible click of resolve in her tone. "That's perfect."

💌

The upstairs living room glows with gold streamers and balloons spelling out HBD JS, their cheerful shimmer clashes with the strange heaviness sitting in Chaewon’s chest. From her corner of the couch, she watches Jongseong lean forward to blow out the candles.

His smile is small but genuine, the kind that crinkles his eyes, and something inside her twists at the sight. The others clap, laughter spills bright and easy into the room, but she only feels that odd, quiet ache again. Not jealousy, not longing - more like guilt.

Seeing someone who was seemingly too buried in work to celebrate their own birthday wholeheartedly bask in something so simple, makes her throat tighten. This was a good idea, she tells herself as she watches him cut the cake into eight perfect pieces.

"I don’t really eat cake but this is really good," Sakura comments, her eyes widening after a bite. "It’s not too sweet."

"Right? I don’t think I’ve had something like this before." Yeonjun says, turning to Jongseong with a playful nudge. "What's your favorite type of cake?"

Jongseong chews thoughtfully. "Pistachio, actually."

A murmur of impressed surprise ripples through the group. "No way!" Riki says. "Who picked the cake?"

Chaewon's stomach lurches. Her eyes dart from Jongseong's content smile to the hopeful faces around the table. Her mind paces for an excuse, a way to deflect, when Soobin's calm voice cuts in.

"I did," he says with a relaxed smile. "A lucky guess."

Relief washes through her so swiftly it almost makes her dizzy. She meets his gaze for a fleeting second, grateful, and he gives the barest nod in return.

Kazuha, sensing the energy dips, claps her hands together.

"Is anyone up for playing with the lie detector that the producers left yesterday?"

Yunjin chuckles at her attempt to hide her enthusiasm. “I knew you were just waiting for the opportunity to ask.” 

Kazuha wiggles her eyebrows at her, spreading further laughter around the room.

Once everyone settles comfortably into the couches, Kazuha scans around to look for anyone who is game to go first, so Chaewon immediately stares at the circular contraption on the table to avoid eye contact.

Thankfully, Yeonjun volunteers to be the one, placing his hand over the palm shaped slot at its center. 

Jongseong, who is apparently in a teasing mood, asks him, "Do you think you're good-looking?"

Yeonjun blinks and answers "No" with a straight face, but the toy shocks him, making everyone burst into laughter as he flinches his hand away from the device.

When he hands the device to Sakura, Chaewon catches it - the faint blush climbing her roommate’s neck, the way her hands fidgeted before resting on the machine. 

No one else seems to notice, but Chaewon does. She’s been noticing things. She’s seen the way Sakura’s voice lifted when she mentioned Yeonjun’s name before bed, how her gaze lingered longer than it should when he spoke.

A fond smirk tugs at Chaewon’s lips as she leans closer, deciding to play along.

“Is there someone here that you want to get to know better?” she asks, her tone playful, conspiratorial.

Sakura’s eyes widen, but then she answers firmly “Yes,” as she looks at Chaewon. The machine blinks green. 

Chaewon feels warmth spark in her chest. It's satisfying watching something new unfold, and even better to give her friend that little push forward.

When it’s Jongseong's turn, Riki leans in with a curious expression. "Did anyone give you butterflies today?" 

Jongseong’s answer comes with that same small, knowing smile, "Yes," and the machine declares it as true. Playful shouts and teasing erupt in the room.

Chaewon feels her pulse quicken, though not for the reasons anyone would guess. She doesn’t care, not in that way. But curiosity blooms sharp and restless.

Who? Definitely not her - she’s been too wrapped in her own head all day to inspire butterflies in anyone. Yunjin, maybe? She had made the soup, after all.

The thought lands like a pebble in her stomach, rippling outward. If it is Yunjin, has Chaewon missed something else? Has the whole day been full of moments she hasn’t been paying enough attention to catch?

With impeccable timing, the toy lands on Yunjin. Kazuha’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she asks, “Do you want to get back with your ex?”

Chaewon holds her breath, not consciously, but a part of her was waiting, anticipating.

"No," Yunjin answers, almost immediately. The word is firm, flat, without hesitation. The machine's light glows green and a small laugh ripples through the group.

"That was quick," Sakura comments, making the laughter louder.

The sound feels like a physical sting to Chaewon. She knows the question isn't about her, isn't for her, but the immediate and unflinching certainty of Yunjin's response lands with an unexpected weight. A flicker of hurt, sharp and illogical, crosses her mind. She tries to dismiss it.

Don't be ridiculous. This is what you want. This is a good thing. 

Then why does it hurt?

She tells herself this will all fizzle out once she has the chance to talk to her - to get the words, the feelings, whatever this is, out of her system.

But the problem is, she hasn't exchanged a single word with Yunjin the entire day. She hasn't been avoiding it on purpose; the group is simply too big, too chatty, too constantly together. The moments for a quiet conversation just aren't there. She needs to be more strategic.

Mercifully, the sound of the front door bell brings Chaewon out of her vortex of thoughts. Kazuha excitedly bolts down the stairs and comes back up holding an envelope.

She takes a moment to catch her breath before reading it out loud.

Chaewon pulls her phone out of her pocket when she hears it ping.

Show Announcements

Female participants, please make your way to the Chat Room. In preparation for tomorrow’s date, you can ask your date’s ex for advice. You will also chat with your ex’s date and answer their questions.

She exhales, slow and heavy. The whole thing feels like a detour she didn’t have the energy for - an hour of stiff questions and obligatory smiles in front of a screen when all she wanted was the one conversation she hasn’t managed all day.

Soobin was kind enough, sweet even, but her feelings about him were a question she hasn’t figured out yet. And she doesn’t want to. Not tonight. Not when her mind was already so loud with other things.

She slips the phone back into her pocket, forcing her posture straight, her expression neutral.

Fine. She’ll go. She’ll play the part, keep it polite and efficient. But her thoughts were already elsewhere - on the words she still hasn’t said, the conversation that feels heavier with every hour it is delayed.

💌

The door clicks shut behind Yunjin, sealing her again inside the small room. The peachy pink walls and warm lighting do what they can to lighten up what would be otherwise a pretty sterile room - a single desk with a keyboard and monitor but with the new addition of a small talkback speaker mounted on the wall, hidden from the camera’s view.

Yunjin takes a deep breath and settles into the chair, the memory of her last chat still fresh in her mind. She feels good about the conversation with Yeonjun's date. It was light, enjoyable even. She had typed quickly and honestly, a willing participant in the intricate web of this experiment.

The person on the other side seemed genuinely curious about Yeonjun, asking insightful questions about his personality, his likes and dislikes, and what he was like as a boyfriend. Yunjin had answered as detailed as she could, glad that she could be helpful without feeling too exposed.

As the monitor remains, she hears the voice of producer Jin through the talkback speaker.

“Yunjin-ssi, you’re about to start your chat with Jongseong’s ex. Please ask questions that will help you for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Yunjin's mind drifts to her upcoming date. She doesn’t feel a flutter of nerves or the kind of anticipation the cameras would probably want her to have. Instead, it’s a quiet curiosity.

It’s been a while since she's just… talked to a guy, and Jongseong seems like a decent one. Level-headed. Funny in that understated way.

Yunjin’s been enjoying her budding friendship with her roommate, Kazuha - Zuha, as she calls her now - and has found they have a lot in common.

With the few interactions she's had with Jongseong, she feels like he and Kazuha share a similar energy - laidback but hyperactively unserious when it counts. She figures being buddies with another person on the same wavelength as them couldn’t hurt.

The monitor flickers, and a chat window appears. Yunjin takes a moment, then types her first message.

Hello~

The reply appears almost instantly.

Hello

Short. Neutral. Since she isn't sure who might be on the other side or where they stand with Jongseong, she tries to break the ice.

Sooo this is a little awkward, huh? hehe

The typing bubble appears then disappears in quick succession.

It’s

Ask what you’re curious about with Jongseong

Blunt. Yunjin blinks at the words, the edges of her smile fading. She exhales softly. Okay, straight to business then.

What type of dates did you go on?

The answers drip back, clipped.

We’d go out to eat

Or go to a coffee shop

It’s like pulling teeth. Yunjin chews on her lip, debating how far to push.

Did you do any activities together?

Not really

At the time we were both really busy with our jobs, especially Jongseong

So we would just meet to talk

Yunjin tilts her head. Something about the phrasing feels… restrained.

She thinks back to when she was dating Yeonjun. As much as the both of them loved yapping for hours with a few drinks, they loved going on small adventures, even when both of them slammed were with work.

Surely, Jongseong and his ex had some common interests or a favorite park or hiking path. She wonders if this ex is being vague on purpose, or if there is bad blood. Or is this just all their relationship was?

What would you guys talk about?

This and that

How our day went

How work was going

Just whatever was on our mind

Her fingers hover above the keys.

That’s it? The answers are maddeningly noncommittal, the kind that say everything and nothing at once. She almost types back ”Yes, and?” but stops herself. No, this person doesn’t seem to be in the mood for banter..

What’s something he’s passionate about?

His job. He’s really passionate about work

Did he have any hobbies?

He’s a bit of a workaholic

The irritation creeping in Yunjin’s chest sharpens into suspicion. Either they don’t want to talk about Jongseong, or they’re deliberately keeping her at arm’s length. This conversation seems to be going nowhere.

Before she can type again, the screen flickers with new lines.

So he didn’t have a lot of time to spend on his hobbies

Jongseong is really into vintage guitars and studying history

So we would talk about whatever he was interested in at that time

Something shifts in her gut. A strange ripple of familiarity.

The words are simple, a little guarded. The refusal to give too much, the way personal details slip out almost reluctantly, it stirs something she can’t place. It’s like she’s heard these cadences before, sat across from someone who spoke with the same careful restraint.

Déjà vu prickles her skin. She frowns at the screen, uneasy, instinctively typing her next question.

What about you? What are your hobbies?

The typing bubble goes on and off a couple of times before a reply comes back.

Fashion and food were our common interests so we talked about that a lot

Clothes we wanted to buy and restaurants we wanted to go to

The speaker crackles with producer Jin’s voice again. “Yunjin-ssi, please focus the conversation on Jongseong. The ex cannot reveal identifying information.”

Right. She hasn’t even thought about who the ex might be. As short as the replies are, Yunjin feels an odd sense of familiarity that she can’t put her finger on.

She wonders if it’s Zuha. They’ve bonded so much over the last couple of days with their late-night talks - sharing their lists of favorite bakeries and cafes, discussing their favorite R&B singers, and debating their ranking of the Before trilogy.

She now has a good sense of how Kazuha presents her thoughts and wonders if the text she sees on the screen is similar to it. She is unsure, and then an idea pops into her head.

Kazuha shared details of her last relationship with Yunjin within the boundaries of their budding friendship, and it feels wrong to use the chat room to corner her into giving her an answer.

But low-key, Yunjin does want to know if Jongseong is Kazuha’s ex. She’s not interested in the fact itself. It’s so she can draw boundaries, so she can continue enjoying her growing friendship with her new bestie without a nagging sense of unease.

With that, Yunjin types her next question, framing it as gently as she can.

You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable.

But can I ask why you guys broke up?

She feels her anticipation rise as she sees the typing bubble move.

We just grew apart

Other important things started clashing with our relationship

While this could be an honest answer, within the context of the conversation it comes across as broad and diplomatic.

It’s definitely not enough information to determine if it’s Kazuha, but Yunjin accepts that this is what the person is willing to give her, and she respects that. Not everyone is an over-sharer, especially to a stranger, and that's okay.

Thanks for answering my questions

The producers cut in, announcing the chat has ended. Yunjin sits back in her chair, staring at the quiet screen, the words erased as the chat screen closes.

Her reflection stares back at her, unsettled. She tells herself it’s nothing, just another stiff chat with someone who isn’t completely comfortable with sharing all their business yet. But the weight lingers like static in her chest, a hum she can’t quite silence. Before she can think about it further, the door opens and a couple of producers and crew members file in.

“Yunjin-ssi, thank you so much for doing your best in the Chat Room,” Producer Jin says warmly, stepping forward. She’s wearing a headset and holding a clipboard. “We’ve finished filming here, but since all the girls are on site, we’re going to start the confessional interviews now.”

Yunjin nods, already getting up. “Sounds good.”

“We’ve started filming Sakura-ssi. Can you just wait for about thirty minutes in the waiting room while we get Sakura-ssi situated?”

Normally, Yunjin is cooperative, but the thought of another confined space makes the tension in her chest prickle.

It’s been a long day - the early start, draining all her social energy being around the group all day, and then the hour spent trapped in her own head during the chats. That weird, unidentifiable static from the last chat is still humming in her mind. She needs air.

“PD-nim,” Yunjin starts, trying to soften her voice. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been sitting down for a while now. Would it be okay if I went for a quick walk around the block? Just to get some fresh air?”

Producer Jin’s eyes narrow slightly, clearly reluctant to deviate from the schedule. She glances at her watch, then back at Yunjin, perhaps catching the weariness beneath her cooperative smile. She sighs.

“Okay, Yunjin-ssi. But please, don’t wander far. And you have exactly thirty minutes. Please be back here at 10:10 PM sharp.”

“Thank you so much, PD-nim,” Yunjin says, bowing slightly, genuinely grateful.

As she’s escorted to the front, she realizes how desperately she needs solitude. It’s probably why she feels so muddled.

She hasn’t had a single moment to herself since arriving, not really. No late-night journaling, no quiet corner to hum out lyrics until they sound true. She promises herself she’ll make time tomorrow to write, to draw the thoughts before they consume her. 

At the front door, the crew member checks her phone. “The time is now 9:40. I’ll meet you back here at 10:10, Yunjin-ssi.”

“Sure. Thank you.” Before she forgets, Yunjin sets an alarm on her phone for 10:00 PM. She grabs the door handle, feeling the weight on her shoulders ready to lift the moment she takes in the cool evening breeze.

She steps outside and closes it behind her - only to nearly choke on her own gasp.

Chaewon is leaning against the stone wall, looking like a high school delinquent from some drama. Not just because she’s vaping - that’s new - but because of the sharp glare she’s leveling at Yunjin.

There’s a certain resolve in her gaze, the kind she always had when she was firm about seeing something through. Those same eyes take in Yunjin’s face of distress and roll in cynicism.

That’s enough for Yunjin to crack. Her mind’s already at full capacity. The last thing she needs is her obnoxious ex giving her attitude the moment the cameras aren’t around.

“What is your pr-” she begins, but Chaewon cuts her off with a hissed “shhh,” finger flicking toward the microphone clipped to her blouse. Right. Of course. Everything is still being recorded.

Yunjin exhales hard through her nose, the closest she’ll allow to a groan.

Chaewon lifts her phone, puts it to her ear, her voice smooth as she speaks into it. “Hello, PD-nim. I just met Yunjin outside. Is it okay if we go for a walk together while we wait for our turn to film?”

Even in her annoyance, Yunjin is able to acknowledge Chaewon’s pragmatism. Always neat, always efficient. She hears a muffled reply as Chaewon nods.

“Should we turn our microphones off while we’re walking?” Chawon presses, biting her lip in hesitation until the muffled voice answers. “Okay, we’ll do that. Thank you. Yes, we’ll see you then.”

She pockets the vape, then unclips the transmitter from the back of her pants and flips the flap open, showing Yunjin. “If you hold this button for three seconds it will turn it off.”

She demonstrates, waits for the green light to fade, then reattaches it neatly.

Yunjin follows suit, tucking hers away with a sigh that escapes before she can stop it. She looks up, ready to pick up her grievances from before, but Chaewon’s round eyes are already on her.

They’re scanning her face with a strange wariness, like they’re trying to gauge her temperament. Not defensive, not smug - careful.

Chaewon awkwardly tilts her head toward the street. A silent question - her timid way of asking if they should start walking. Yunjin resists the urge to roll her eyes and just nods, and the two begin their way up the footpath.

For a good seven minutes, it’s nothing but footsteps, and frankly this might as well be a personalized torture method for Huh Yunjin.

It’s not about the silence itself, because even as a self-recognizing chatterbox, she can appreciate the calm that comes with stillness. Her problem isn’t even with the rigidity that comes with two people who aren’t comfortable with each other.

Yunjin, being Yunjin, has simulated this moment countless times, that she might as well have storyboarded it.

Composing and then recomposing it in her head like a movie scene was likely “...a sign of mental instability. Girl, you’re not David Fincher,” according to Yizhou, but it bizarrely helped her find acceptance in a way. It made her overprepared.

She knows exactly what she wants to say and is at peace with how it could pan out, even if she doesn’t get the answers she was looking for.

But now, with the real thing walking besides her, pride roots her tongue in her mouth. She won’t be the first to break. Not when Chaewon’s the one who’s been dodging her like a ghost.

In her mind, she bears the responsibility of navigating this inconvenience. If Chaewon assumes Yunjin will take the lead like she usually would - too bad. Ego’s locked in.

She hears Chaewon slow down her steps. “Do you want to sit on the swings?”

Yunjin blinks, realizing she’s been so engrossed in her huffing and puffing that she hasn’t been paying attention to where they’ve been heading.

They’ve arrived at Chamsaemgol Park, a small neighborhood spot tucked behind a few stairs, featuring a jungle gym and a swing set. Chaewon glances at her delicately, and Yunjin’s body moves before her brain decides, nodding once and heading towards the empty swing set.

Yunjin stretches her legs out after she sits, her limbs way too long for something made for children. Forever unable to remain still, she begins tapping her feet shuffling against the pebbles.

Chaewon folds herself small on the swing beside her, hands clasped in her lap, practically motionless. Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes one deep breath.

“I should have found a way to approach you earlier,” she starts softly. “But I feel like there weren’t any good opportunities.”

Yunjin stops her feet and turns to Chaewon, who is looking ahead. With her irritation already spiked from earlier, Yunjin’s mouth is already moving. “We’ve been living together for the last three days.”

“With six other people. It’s not like we’ve been in the same spaces a lot”.

“And who’s fault is that?” Yunjin snaps, scowling at her.

Chaewon’s eyes flit up, perhaps stunned by the accusatory tone, and looks down as soon as she sees Yunjin’s stare. “It’s not like you’ve been trying to engage with me, either,” she mutters to the ground.

Yunjin wonders if she’s doing it on purpose to provoke her - grumbling like a coward instead of saying it to her face.

“You’ve barely given me the chance. Every time I walk into a room, you bolt,” Yunjin says as her grip on the swing tightens. “If I didn’t know any better, you’ve been trying to avoid being within five meters of me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? You practically sprinted out of the kitchen every time I walked in.”

Something flickers across Chaewon’s face that Yunjin is unable to recognise - guilt? Embarrassment? - before she schools it flat.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” she says calmly, but firmly. “I was avoiding the situation of us having to interact before we could have a proper conversation.”

Yunjin scoffs, the denial wearing her patience thin. “How is that any different? What’s so hard about idle chit chat?”

“Is that honestly what you wanted?” Chaewon finally looks at her, her eyes a little sharper now. “You hate that fake small talk.”

Yunjin is self-aware enough to know that she can be on the argumentative side - “the city will do that to you,” she would explain - but she’s definitely more brawly than usual. Perhaps it's Chaewon’s sudden confidence that agitates her, but her anger is now taking the driver’s seat.

“What the fuck? Don’t act like you know me,” she spits out with a little too much bite. Chaewon’s eyes widen a little, but she stays on course, her gaze still steady.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“Sounds like you think you know what I want.”

“I didn’t know where you stood,” Chaewon breathes, voice steadier than Yunjin expects. “Did you actually want me to act like we had met for the first time?”

Yunjin raises an eyebrow at her.

“That’s verbatim what we’ve been doing with our exes.”

“But that’s different. We agreed to that with them. This wasn’t agreed upon,” Chaewon says as she waves her hand in the space between them.

“No shit. It’s not like I was expecting to see you either.” Her arms fold tight across her chest. “But you don’t see me rushing to another room the moment I see you. Why can’t you just admit you’ve been avoiding me?”

Chaewon’s lips press into a line, so Yunjin waits, ready to counter her next excuse. But then she sort of deflates, sinking lower in her swing, and it’s sort of disorientating for Yunjin.

She has had her fair share of arguments with Chaewon, the majority of them being healthy and somewhat constructive, and this doesn’t feel like their usual back and forth.

This one is missing the main ingredient - her fighting spirit. She wouldn't go as far to say she lacks self-control, but Chaewon can definitely get heated in a disagreement. Poke the bear, and she’ll strike. Yunjin has done plenty of poking tonight, and Chaewon has barely thrown any punches.

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I was already anxious enough about being on the show and having all my personal business out there,” Chaewon finally says, voice low. “I know that sounds hypocritical of me to say, but because I was the one who chose to share what I wanted to, it felt like it was still somewhat under my control.

So when I saw you, it made me paranoid about if the producers knew more than they led on. It really caught me off guard so I’ve been panicking. I thought if I kept my distance, I could avoid people misunderstanding the situation.”

The words land heavy. Panic - real, not performed. And suddenly Yunjin feels the sting of her own suspicions confirmed. Chaewon had been flustered. Avoiding her not out of disdain, but out of her nervousness.

The empathy twists her anger into something murkier. She can understand the paranoia - she felt it herself at the start. But does that excuse leaving her twisting in the wind? Making her feel ridiculous for wanting scraps of normal interaction?

She tilts her head, bitterness leaking through. “But it was fine for me to misunderstand?”

Petty, maybe. But for the first time in forever, Yunjin wants the underlying hurt she’s felt - just from this stalemate, not everything else - to be known to her.

“It wasn’t fine. That’s why we’re here now.” Chaewon sighs, shoulders tight. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to be around, but we still have at least another two weeks until this is all done. We don’t have to get along, but it would be nice if we could come to some agreement.”

“Agreement?” Yunjin repeats, the word grabbing her attention.

Chaewon nods. “We can be friendly, or we can stay out of each other’s way. And if the producers ask, we can say that we just don’t really gel. Or…” she glances up briefly. “If you want something else, say it and we’ll do that.”

Yunjin’s lips part slightly as she thinks over Chaewon’s suggestion, the response taking her by surprise. While she’s always had a businesslike approach to problem solving, this solution is entirely catered to Yunjin’s preference.

“What do you want?” she asks, hoping to get some clarity on her intentions.

“I want to work around your boundaries.”

Her brows knit, skepticism rising. “Why?”

Chaewon pouts faintly. “Do I really have to say it?”

Yunjin sees the pleading in her eyes, but she’s still confused so she asks again. “Say what?”

“Because, like,” Chaewon scratches the back of her neck. “I’m the one who left, so it’s only fair we do what you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh.”

The word hangs between them.

And suddenly, the memory blindsides her: the kitchen of her old apartment, her own voice cracking as she begged. Pathetic words, pooling at Chaewon’s feet, met only with stone-cold resolve.

Right. That’s how it ended. Yunjin on her knees, clawing for compromise. Chaewon unmoving, mind already halfway back to Gaepodong.

There was a period when that moment was filed under “too painful to replay”, but as Chaewon’s words have dug it back up, Yunjin realizes that the wound had healed quite some time ago.

So for Chaewon to bring it up this way, so quickly at that, makes Yunjin wonder - has she carried that guilt all this time? Had it been gnawing at her, the way Yunjin’s desperation had gnawed at her in those first hollow weeks after? She may never know how Chaewon handled it after walking away. But maybe this avoidant spiral, this paranoia - maybe it’s been guilt wearing her thin. Maybe this is Chaewon’s form of a peace offering.

“Well, we’re practically strangers now anyway. So let’s start from zero.”

“As in… act like we don’t know each other?”

“Yeah. But, like, leave the past behind us.”

Chaewon blinks, her eyes a little rounder. “Like completely starting from zero.”

“Exactly,” Yunjin says warmly. “I’m over it. You’re over it. We’ve both obviously moved on. Let’s just start fresh and see how it goes.”

Chaewon studies her, then nods slowly. “Do you have, like, any guidelines or conditions?”

Yunjin laughs, head tipping back. “What are we doing? Signing a contract?” she asks before facing Chaewon. “I mean it. We’re starting from scratch. If anything comes up, we handle it like grown-ups.”

That small, reluctant smile curves Chaewon’s lips, the one Yunjin remembers from a thousand softer moments.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

She nods again.

“Thanks, Yunjin-ah.”

Yunjin cocks her head to the side. “For what?”

“Not everyone is this forgiving,” Chaewon says, her grin turning sheepish.

Yunjin narrows her eyes. “Just because I’m scrappy doesn’t mean I don’t know how to be kind,” she says with some sass, earning a chuckle out of Chaewon. “Plus, that shit was forever ago.”

“Still.” Chaewon takes a deep breath. “I’m grateful.”

“Just be nice to me, unnie.”

“Don’t call me unnie,” Chaewon tuts, raising her index finger. ”We haven’t revealed our ages on the show yet.”

“Oh my god. Fine,” Yunjin groans, then holds her right hand out. “Friends for a few more days?”

Chaewon laughs, a little louder than before. “Okay, chingu-yah,” she says with a smirk as she shakes her hand.

And there it is - a smile that is more characteristic to Chaewon. Yunjin realizes she hasn’t seen that, or her more lively side in general, during the whole time they’ve been at the house.

“Oh good. She’s finally back.”

Chaewon sighs, dragging the toe of her shoe against the pebbles. “Can you blame me? My mind’s been like alphabet soup since Thursday.”

Yunjin chuckles, relief warming her chest. She’s glad her playfulness hasn’t disappeared. It was probably just smothered by the weight of her uneasiness this whole time. She hopes that the rest of the house will start to see it too.

“Why so paranoid, for? Like, there is no way the producers know.”

“Yeah. They probably don’t,” she acknowledges quickly. “I haven’t been thinking very rationally.”

“I see that,” Yunjin teases, lips twitching. “Don’t worry. Happens to the best of us.”

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she glances down at the alarm she’d set earlier. “Oh. We should start making our way back.”

She stands, brushing the back of her jeans, while Chaewon takes a few last swings before jumping off with a little hop. The sight pulls another smile from Yunjin.

“I have sort of a silly question,” Chaewon says after they fall into step together.

“What is it?”

“Do you not have Instagram anymore?”

Yunjin blinks, thrown by the mundane angle of it. “What do you mean?”

“I was going to message you, since I don’t have your number, but I couldn’t find your account.”

“Oh, right.” Realization dawns, and she laughs softly. “I deactivated it for the show.”

“Oh. Okay.” Chaewon nods, seemingly satisfied with the simple explanation.

Yunjin chuckles. “Any other silly questions?”

Chaewon shakes her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “No. I think I swamped you enough today.”

“Tell me about it. You practically ambushed me like you were some high school bully.”

“I did not!” Chaewon’s jaw drops, scandalized, which only makes Yunjin laugh harder.

“Yeah you did. Eye roll and everything.”

“That’s because you were acting like I was an axe murderer.”

“Might as well have been one with that demeanour.”

Chaewon scoffs and pretends to speed up, her shorter legs making the effort comical compared to Yunjin’s long strides. She huffs dramatically when she sees Yunjin’s smug smile as she mirrors every step.

For a moment, they’re just two people walking down a dimly lit street, shadows overlapping. It feels startlingly normal and familiar.

It’s the same rhythm Yunjin remembers from late nights in Brooklyn, the two of them side by side, their silence thick with nerves and unspoken things that felt too fragile to put into words. Back then, the tension had been soft, almost sweet - a nervous energy that buzzed like static between their hands.

Now it feels different. The air isn’t charged, it’s cleared. Not completely, but enough. There’s a twist in her chest but she smooths the feeling away before it can settle. She doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is.

She tells herself it’s fine, that this moment doesn’t need to mean anything more than what it is - two people finding their way back to a rhythm that once came naturally.

She tells herself that starting over doesn’t have to be dangerous. That choosing to believe in the lightness can let this feel easy, at least for tonight.

💌

Wednesday, April 18, 2029 – Two weeks earlier

Chaewon sits with her hands resting on the table, looking out of the glass doors of the brightly lit cafe. It’s late, and the street outside is quiet, not a single pedestrian to watch.

Her eyes scan the area, trying to find anything that will keep her distracted, but all she can think about is the mountainous filming equipment set up in front. The cameras, though not right in her face, feel like they’re glaring at her, a sneaky reminder that everything that happens in this room will be recorded and potentially broadcast. She adjusts her posture, straightening her back, ready for the inevitable.

She feels her phone buzz briefly in her pocket.

Transit Love PD Lee Heesun-nim

Chaewon-ssi, your ex will enter the cafe shortly. Remember, it's fine to go off-script. Just see this as an opportunity to speak before you have limited communication in the house. Take as much time as you need.

Chaewon smirks faintly. She plans to take as little as possible.

There’s no anxiety, no heartache, not even a flicker of nostalgia. What’s left is procedural - a formality she needs to proceed with, an unskippable segment before the main game of the show can begin.

She uses the reflection of her phone to check her make-up one last time. Then she waits.

When the door opens, a bell jingles. Her head lifts automatically, and there he is. Jongseong.

It’s almost funny how little he’s changed. Same neat haircut. Same slightly worn leather jacket that used to hang in her entryway. Even the same nervous smile that never reached his eyes.

He approaches with hesitant steps and slides into the chair across from her.

“Hi, noona.”

“Hi.” She returns the feeble smile, her lips pressed together.

The word lands between them like a pebble dropped into a deep well - barely a sound, swallowed up by the silence.

“Feels weird meeting like this,” he says, glancing at the windows.

She nods. “It does.”

“You look a little different. Your hair seems even longer than before.”

“I straightened it.”

“Right.”

“You look the exact same.”

He shrugs. “It’s only been five months.”

Chaewon folds her arms loosely, leaning back just enough to look relaxed. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” he says, like it’s his catchphrase. “Work’s been hectic. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Busy as well.”

The conversation is painfully stilted, each sentence weighed down by the film crew outside. Chaewon wants a sinkhole to consume her. Watching paint dry will probably be more interesting than this.

The silence that follows is mercifully filled by a waiter setting down plates of food - props, really, for the illusion of normalcy. Chaewon isn’t particularly hungry, but the presence of the plates gives her a brief reprieve from the most awkward exchange she’s had in a while.

Jongseong waits until the waiter leaves before asking, “If it weren’t for the show, do you think you would’ve contacted me?”

Chaewon tilts her head, studying him. “You’re the one who contacted me.”

“I know.” He hesitates. “But do you think we would’ve talked again eventually?”

She doesn’t even pause. “No. Our last conversation was our final one.”

And it had been. That argument had stripped away the last of her patience, the last of her affection. She had given everything she could, and when it wasn’t enough, she hadn’t looked back.

“But here we are,” he says quietly.

“Touché,” she replies, even though she wants to roll her eyes. “But we’re not here for each other, right?”

Something flickers across his face - hurt, maybe, or disbelief - but it’s gone before she can name it. “Right.”

“Like, it’s nice to see that you’re doing well. But that’s about it for me,” she says firmly.

He exhales. “Then why did you agree to come on the show?”

The real reason sits plainly in her mind: visibility, brand expansion, business growth. But she can’t share that pragmatic, business-minded reality on camera, so she embellishes her answer slightly.

“I wanted to experience something new.”

“Living with strangers?”

She sees the doubt in his eyes. He’s right, if she’s honest - it’s not exactly her usual comfort zone. But he doesn’t need to know that right now.

“And make new friends,” she adds.

Jongseong nods slowly, but his eyes tell her he doesn’t buy it.

He might suspect she’s holding something back, but that’s not her problem anymore. Once she walks out of this café, she can leave the stale air of this conversation behind and focus on the real challenge ahead. That, at least, she can control.

💌

💌