EUN JAE-HYUN
I've kissed him.
And the world hasn't imploded.
That was my first thought, oddly enough. Not panic. Not regret. Just surprise—like I had stepped off a cliff expecting to fall but found myself floating instead.
Min-woo didn't pull away.
He didn't hesitate.
He kissed me back.
Now everything is humming louder—my thoughts, my breath, my heartbeat. I don't know what we are yet, but I know that the silence between us has changed. It's no longer hesitant. It's charged.
We spend the next few days rehearsing, not just for the next performance but for... something else. Something bigger. The school's spring festival is around the corner, and we've been asked to close the first night. Main stage. Full crowd.
Every time we're in the studio, it's like gravity pulls differently now. Our glances linger. Our hands brush more often. Our voices harmonize closer. Min-woo hasn't said anything about the kiss—not in words—but the way he looks at me? It says everything.
I don't know how to bring it up. I'm scared that naming it might ruin it.
---
KANG MIN-WOO
He kissed me.
And now I can't think straight.
Not because it wasn't good. It was... devastating. In the best way.
But because I want more. And I'm terrified that wanting too much might ruin the balance we've found. Jae-hyun is delicate with his feelings—he guards them behind soft smiles and quiet nods. I don't want to rush him.
I also don't want to pretend nothing's changed.
Every note we sing now feels like a confession. The air between us is thick with unspoken things.
Tonight, we're writing again.
Jae-hyun brings me lyrics, eyes downcast.
"Read them," he says.
I do. And my throat closes.
The words aren't subtle:
"I knew it was you / even before you looked at me / before your hand found mine / in silence and melody."
I strum a chord. Slow. Then another.
He watches me.
I try to keep my voice steady when I say, "Let's record this one tonight."
---
EUN JAE-HYUN
The song comes together faster than we expect. Like it was always meant to exist.
We layer my vocals first, then his guitar, then his harmonies.
We keep stealing glances between takes. Small ones. Ones that mean everything.
When we finally listen to the full track, Min-woo sits beside me, close enough for our knees to touch.
"Do you think it's too obvious?" I ask.
"That it's about love?"
"Yeah."
He shrugs. "Let them wonder."
There's a pause.
"Are we going to talk about it?" I ask.
Min-woo turns to face me fully.
"We kissed," he says, like he's anchoring the truth.
I nod.
"And I've wanted to kiss you again every moment since."
My breath hitches.
"Me too," I whisper.
He reaches for my hand. Doesn't let go.
---
KANG MIN-WOO
We don't label it. Not yet.
But we stop pretending.
We walk closer. Sit closer. Laugh louder. I don't know if everyone around us has caught on, but I do notice the way Sung-ho raises a brow when he sees us curled up on the studio couch sharing headphones.
"You two dating now?" he blurts out one afternoon.
Jae-hyun chokes on his water. I say nothing.
Sung-ho shrugs. "Not judging. Just confirming."
Jae-hyun glances at me.
I meet his eyes and say, "Something like that."
And that's enough.
---
EUN JAE-HYUN
The spring festival arrives faster than I expected.
We spend the whole day on campus. There are food stalls and pop-up art installations, group dance battles near the courtyard, couples walking hand-in-hand with flower crowns.
Min-woo and I wander between booths before our set. He wins me a stuffed fox at a dart game and casually drapes an arm around my shoulder like it's always been there.
I let it stay.
When it's finally time, we make our way backstage.
My stomach is a knot of nerves. But not because of the performance. It's the crowd. The exposure. The weight of being seen.
Min-woo must notice. He gently bumps his shoulder against mine.
"You okay?"
"I think so."
His voice drops low. "You've got me."
And I do.
---
KANG MIN-WOO
The stage lights are blinding. The crowd is massive. But I only focus on one thing:
Jae-hyun.
He steps up to the mic, closes his eyes for a beat, and when he opens them—he finds me.
We play our first song, a classic cover to warm up the crowd. The cheers are immediate.
Second song—one of ours. People sing along. That's still wild to me.
Then the final track.
The new one. The one we haven't released. The one that's us.
Before we start, Jae-hyun looks at me and says, just loud enough for the mic to pick it up:
"This one's for the people who found love where they least expected it."
And the first chord strikes.
---
EUN JAE-HYUN
We lose ourselves in the song.
It's not perfect. There's a missed beat. I forget a line for half a second. But none of it matters. The emotion carries it.
The crowd is quiet by the end. Not out of disinterest. Out of reverence.
When the last note fades, there's a heartbeat of silence.
Then applause.
Loud. Roaring. Unrelenting.
I glance at Min-woo. He's glowing.
And I realize—I am too.
We bow.
We leave the stage.
And behind the curtain, without a word, he pulls me into a kiss.
Soft.
Certain.
Unapologetic.
And this time, the world changes.
Because this time—we let it.