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The van pulled into the parking lot of the broadcast station, its tires crunching softly over the gravel. Sullyoon sat in the backseat, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. The building loomed ahead, its bright banners and posters advertising today’s lineup of performers. Her eyes darted to one of them—a glossy image of herself alongside the other MCs, smiling brightly under the neon Music Core logo.
Her stomach churned.
“Yoon-ah,” her manager said gently from the driver’s seat, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “We’re here. You’ll do great, okay?”
Sullyoon nodded quickly, her lips curving into a polite smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, oppa,” she murmured, her voice soft.
She stepped out of the van, the cool December air biting at her cheeks. She pulled her coat tighter around her as they made their way toward the entrance. Inside, the station buzzed with energy—staff members hurried through the hallways, their arms full of equipment and papers, their voices overlapping as they called out instructions. The familiar hum of organized chaos filled the air, but today it felt overwhelming.
Her manager led her to the waiting room designated for the MCs. The door creaked open, revealing a space that felt both professional and slightly comforting. There was a large mirror surrounded by warm yellow bulbs, a rack of neatly pressed outfits, and a table piled with snacks and water bottles.
“Get settled,” her manager said, giving her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “The stylist will be here in a minute, and the PD wants to go over the script with you soon.”
Sullyoon nodded again, her fingers brushing nervously against the strap of her bag. Once the door closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath. Alone, the nerves hit her all at once, crashing over her like a wave. She sank into the nearest chair, her hands gripping the edge of the seat.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her features were calm, composed—almost serene—but it felt like a mask. Inside, her heart was racing so fast she could feel it in her throat.
The script was already on the table, neatly printed and stapled together. She reached for it, her hands trembling slightly. The words stared back at her, mocking her with their precision. She’d practiced the lines a hundred times in her dorm, going over the introduction, the transitions, and the closing remarks until they were etched into her memory. But now, staring at them, they felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else.
A soft knock at the door startled her.
“Come in,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
The door opened to reveal one of the staff members, a kind-looking woman holding a clipboard. “Sullyoon-ssi, the PD is ready for you in the briefing room. Just a quick run-through before we start rehearsal.”
Sullyoon stood quickly, smoothing down her coat. “Ah, yes. I’ll be right there.”
The walk to the briefing room felt like a blur. Her thoughts swirled as she tried to recall her lines, mentally rehearsing each word, each breath. When she entered the room, the PD greeted her with a warm smile, but her stomach still clenched.
“Ah, you’re prettier in person, Seol Yoona,” the PD said, his tone casual but kind. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a sign of sincerity rather than flattery.
Sullyoon blinked, startled by the unexpected comment. “Oh, um… thank you,” she stammered, bowing quickly. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she gripped the script tighter in her hands. Compliments like that always caught her off guard, and she wasn’t sure how to respond beyond polite gratitude.
The PD chuckled lightly, motioning for her to take a seat at the long table in the center of the room. “No need to be so nervous,” he said, his tone warm. “I’ve worked with plenty of rookie MCs, and trust me, you’re already ahead of the curve. You’ve got the visuals, the charm, and a good head on your shoulders. The rest will come with practice.”
Sullyoon nodded wordlessly, sitting down on the edge of the chair as if she might need to bolt at any moment. The script was trembling slightly in her grasp, so she placed it on the table, smoothing it out with deliberate care to keep her hands steady.
“Let’s go over the first segment together,” the PD said, sliding his own copy of the script toward her. “The introduction is key—it’s where you set the tone for the whole show. You’ll be starting us off today. Think of it like warming up the crowd, getting them excited for what’s coming. Just speak naturally. Don’t worry about sounding perfect.”
Speak naturally. Don’t worry about sounding perfect.
The words felt like a contradiction to her. She wasn’t sure what her “natural” voice sounded like when thousands of people were watching.
The PD must have sensed her hesitation, because he gave her an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you try reading the first line now? No pressure—just to get a feel for it.”
Sullyoon hesitated, her gaze dropping to the first line on the script. She knew the words by heart, but saying them out loud in front of someone—even just the PD—felt monumental. She took in a small, shaky breath and spoke.
“Annyeonghaseyo, Music Core viewers! I’m NMIXX’s Sullyoon, and I’m so excited to join you as your new MC starting today!”
Her voice was soft, almost tentative, but the words came out smoothly. She glanced up at the PD, waiting for his reaction.
He tilted his head thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not bad. But try it again, this time with a bit more energy. Smile while you say it—it’ll help your voice sound brighter.”
Sullyoon nodded, sitting up a little straighter. She tried again, this time forcing herself to smile even as her nerves tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Annyeonghaseyo, Music Core viewers! I’m NMIXX’s Sullyoon, and I’m so excited to join you as your new MC starting today!”
“That’s better,” the PD said with an approving nod. “See? You’re getting the hang of it already. Just remember, the audience isn’t expecting you to be perfect. They’re here to have fun, and your job is to help them feel that energy.”
Sullyoon’s shoulders relaxed slightly at his words. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to ease the tight knot in her chest.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The PD chuckled again, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going to do fine, Seol Yoona. Trust me, by the time the show ends, you’ll already be better than you were at the start. It’s all about taking that first step.”
She nodded, his words resonating somewhere deep inside her. Taking the first step. That’s what today was about, wasn’t it?
The rest of the briefing went by quickly, with the PD walking her through the flow of the show and giving her tips on how to handle transitions and unexpected moments.
As they wrapped up, the PD leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. His expression shifted slightly, becoming more thoughtful as he studied Sullyoon for a moment.
“One more thing, Seol Yoona,” he began, his voice calm but purposeful. “We want you to lean into that shy and clumsy persona you always show. It’s part of your charm, you know? The audience loves it.”
Sullyoon blinked, tilting her head slightly. “Huh? Shy and clumsy?”
The PD chuckled, mistaking her confusion for modesty. “Exactly! The way you’re soft-spoken and a little hesitant, like you’re still figuring things out—it’s endearing. People feel like they can connect with you because you’re so real. Just be yourself, and don’t be afraid to let those moments shine.”
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. For a moment, she just stared at him, trying to process what he’d said. A persona?
She swallowed, her fingers nervously brushing the edge of the script in front of her. “Ah… right. I’ll, um, do my best,” she mumbled.
The PD grinned, seemingly satisfied with her response. “That’s the spirit! Don’t worry too much about being perfect. If you trip over a word or get a little flustered, that’s fine—just roll with it. That’s what makes you you.”
Sullyoon nodded automatically, offering a small, polite smile. But inside, her thoughts were swirling. Persona? Does he really think I’m playing a character?
She lowered her gaze to the table, her cheeks warming. It wasn’t something she had ever thought about before—this idea that her shyness and occasional clumsiness might come across as an act. The truth was, she’d spent most of her life trying to not be like that, doing her best to hide the nervous energy that seemed to follow her everywhere.
Her mind flashed back to her trainee days, when she’d been so painfully shy that she could barely make eye contact with the instructors. She remembered how her hands would tremble during evaluations, how she’d trip over her own feet during routines she’d practiced a hundred times. None of it was intentional. It was just… her.
And now, here she was, being told to embrace it like it was some carefully crafted performance.
“Seol Yoona?”
The PD’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up quickly, her expression smoothing into one of attentiveness. “Ah, yes?”
“Don’t overthink it,” he said, misreading the look in her eyes as simple nerves. His tone was gentle, reassuring. “Just be yourself. Trust me, the audience will love you for it.”
She nodded again, her smile returning—this time a little more strained. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The PD gave her a thumbs-up before standing and gathering his notes. “Alright, that’s it for now. You’ve got some time before rehearsal starts, so relax and get comfortable. You’re going to do great.”
Sullyoon bowed politely as he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The moment she was alone, she let out a long, shaky sigh, leaning back in her chair. Her fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the table as she stared at the script in front of her.
Shy and clumsy…
She repeated the words in her head, her lips pressing together tightly. Did everyone think of her that way? She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been called confident or poised. But clumsy? Shy? Those words seemed to follow her everywhere, sticking to her like glue. And now, they were being framed as a strength.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
The stylist arrived a few minutes later, interrupting her thoughts and ushering her back to the waiting room. Sullyoon sat silently as the stylist made small adjustments to her hair and outfit, her mind still replaying the PD’s words.
The stylist arrived a few minutes later, interrupting her thoughts and ushering her back to the waiting room. Sullyoon sat silently as the stylist made small adjustments to her hair and outfit, her mind still replaying the PD’s words.
“Shy and clumsy, huh?” she muttered under her breath, feeling a mix of frustration and self-reflection swirl in her chest. The stylist glanced at her curiously but didn’t comment, too focused on perfecting Sullyoon’s look. She fiddled with the edge of her skirt, her thoughts drifting as the hum of the styling tools filled the air.
The waiting room door creaked open, breaking her reverie. A familiar voice, low and easygoing, floated in.
“Ah, so this is where they’re hiding the rookie.”
Sullyoon looked up sharply, her eyes widening as Stray Kids’ Lee Know strolled into the room. His casual confidence filled the space instantly, like he was immune to the subtle tension that seemed to cling to everything about this day. He was dressed in a crisp blazer and a simple white shirt, his hair styled effortlessly. Even without trying, he radiated the kind of charm that made him a perfect fit for the role of an MC.
Her heart sank. No way…
Lee Know gave her a quick once-over, his lips quirking into a small, amused smile. “You must be Sullyoon-ssi,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Annyeong.”
She stood abruptly, bowing deeply. “Annyeonghaseyo, Lee Know sunbaenim!”
He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not one for formalities. “No need for all that. Just Lee Know is fine.” His voice was light, teasing almost. “We’re MCs together now, right? Might as well get comfortable.”
Sullyoon straightened, her face flushing a little as she struggled to process what she’d just heard. We’re MCs together? Her mind raced, piecing things together. She’d been so caught up in her own nerves that she hadn’t even asked who her co-hosts would be. And now, standing in front of her, was Lee Know—a senior idol with years of experience and a reputation for his laid-back personality.
Her stomach flipped. “I… I didn’t know you were one of the MCs,” she said quietly, her hands clasping together nervously.
Lee Know smirked, clearly amused by her reaction. “Surprise.” He stepped further into the room, crossing his arms as he studied her. “You look nervous. First time MCing?”
She nodded hesitantly. “Yes, it’s my first time.”
“Well, don’t stress too much,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not as scary as it looks. Just follow the script, smile a lot, and if you mess up, pretend it was on purpose. The audience loves that kind of thing.”
His nonchalant attitude only made her more anxious. How is he so calm about this? she wondered, staring at him like he was some kind of enigma. To her, Lee Know wasn’t just another idol—he was a senior artist with a polished stage presence and a knack for making everything look effortless. The idea of standing next to him, let alone sharing the responsibility of hosting a live broadcast, felt almost impossible.
Lee Know cocked his head, noticing her silence. “You’re really quiet, huh?” he said, his tone more curious than critical. “Guess that’s what the PD meant when he said you’re the shy type.”
Her eyes widened. “The PD told you that?”
“Yeah, during the briefing,” he replied, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He said you’re the ‘shy and clumsy’ one. Don’t worry, though. That’s a good thing. The audience loves it when MCs have different vibes. It makes things more interesting.”
Sullyoon’s cheeks turned pink. Shy and clumsy. Again. The words seemed to echo everywhere she went today.
Lee Know must have noticed her discomfort, because he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like that?” he asked, his voice softening slightly. “Being called shy and clumsy?”
She hesitated, unsure how to respond. Was it okay to admit that it bothered her? Would it make her seem ungrateful or overly sensitive? She glanced down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t want people to think that’s all there is to me.”
Lee Know was quiet for a moment, his gaze thoughtful as he watched her. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled softly. “You know, I get that.”
Her head shot up, her eyes meeting his. “You do?”
“Of course,” he said, his tone easy and matter-of-fact. “When Stray Kids debuted, everyone called me the ‘quiet and mysterious’ one. It was fine at first, but after a while, it started to feel like that’s all people saw. Like I couldn’t be anything else.”
She blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. Lee Know sunbaenim felt like that, too?
He shrugged, leaning back against the table. “But you know what I realized? It doesn’t really matter what people think at first. What matters is what you show them over time. If you’re more than just shy and clumsy, they’ll see it eventually. You just have to give them a chance.”
His words settled over her like a warm blanket, soothing the restless thoughts that had been swirling in her mind all day. For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt a small sliver of reassurance.
“Thank you, sunbaenim,” she said softly, her lips curving into a shy smile.
“Hey, what did I say about the ‘sunbaenim’ thing?” he teased, pointing a finger at her. “Just Lee Know. We’re equals now, remember?”
Her smile widened, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “Okay… Lee Know-ssi.”
“That’s better,” he said, giving her an approving nod. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “Now, let’s see if you can keep up with me out there.”
Sullyoon’s heart skipped a beat. Keep up with him? She wasn’t sure if it was a challenge or just another one of his jokes, but either way, she felt the weight of the moment settle over her again. This wasn’t going to be easy.
She sat back down stiffly as Lee Know leaned against the table, still casually scrolling through his phone. The silence filled the room—not uncomfortable for him, it seemed, but for Sullyoon, it was deafening. Her mind raced, trying to find something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make her sound awkward or out of place.
What do I even talk about? she thought, glancing at him nervously. He looked so at ease, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, her palms were clammy, and her heart was beating faster than it should. For a moment, she considered staying quiet and letting the silence stretch on, but that felt even more unbearable.
She cleared her throat softly, testing her voice. “Um… Lee Know-ssi?”
He didn’t look up immediately, but the corner of his mouth twitched as though he’d been waiting for her to say something. “Hmm?”
Her mind went completely blank. What was I going to say? She panicked, blurting the first thing that came to mind. “Stray Kids is really cool.”
Lee Know finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Thanks?” he said, his tone somewhere between amused and confused.
Sullyoon’s face flushed. Why did I say that? She scrambled to explain herself, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, you’re, like, one of the biggest groups in JYP. After TWICE, I mean. It must be nice… I mean, not nice, but, uh, impressive? To be in such a huge group.”
Lee Know chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know,” he said, his voice light. “It’s not a job interview.”
Her shoulders tensed, and she quickly lowered her gaze. Great. Now he thinks I’m trying too hard. She bit her lip, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. This was exactly why she hated small talk. She never knew what to say, and everything always came out wrong.
Lee Know tilted his head, watching her for a moment. “You’re overthinking again,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.”
“I’m not overthinking,” she mumbled, though her stiff posture and flushed cheeks said otherwise.
He smirked. “Right. And I’m not an idol.”
Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but she quickly bit it back. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at his joke just to be polite.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“I… I guess not,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” he said with a shrug. “Talking isn’t everything. Some of the best MCs let their actions do the work for them. You’ll figure it out.”
His words, though meant to be reassuring, only made her more aware of the gap between them. He spoke with such ease, like he’d done this a hundred times before. And he probably had. Stray Kids had been everywhere over the past few years—music shows, variety programs, even international tours. Meanwhile, NMIXX was still trying to find their footing. They hadn’t even celebrated their second anniversary yet, and though she was proud of her group, the comparison was hard to ignore.
She hesitated, then said quietly, “It must be nice… having so much experience.”
Lee Know raised an eyebrow. “Experience?”
“You’ve been doing this for years,” she said, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “You’ve been on so many shows, met so many people… You probably don’t even get nervous anymore.”
He laughed at that, a soft, genuine sound that caught her off guard. “You think I don’t get nervous?”
“Well… don’t you?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Of course I do,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not like you wake up one day and suddenly all the nerves are gone. Even now, I get jitters before a big stage or a live show. The difference is, you learn how to deal with it. You stop letting it control you.”
Sullyoon blinked, surprised by his honesty. She’d always assumed idols like him—polished, confident, and seemingly untouchable—didn’t struggle with things like nerves. Hearing him admit otherwise made him seem a little more human.
“But you make it look so easy,” she said softly.
“That’s the trick,” he replied with a wink. “Fake it till you make it.”
She couldn’t help it—a small laugh escaped her. It was quiet and fleeting, but it was enough to make Lee Know grin.
“See? You’re loosening up already,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.
Sullyoon’s cheeks warmed again, but this time, it wasn’t entirely from embarrassment. For the first time since meeting him, she felt a tiny bit of the tension in her chest start to ease. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as she’d thought.
Still, the weight of her inexperience lingered. She glanced down at her hands, her voice hesitant. “Do you ever… feel pressure? Like, to live up to people’s expectations?”
Lee Know tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “All the time,” he admitted. “But that’s part of the job, isn’t it? People expect a lot from us because they care. It’s not a bad thing—it just means they’re paying attention.”
His words struck a chord with her. She hadn’t thought about it that way before. To her, expectations had always felt like a heavy burden, something to be feared rather than embraced. But maybe he was right. Maybe it was a sign that people believed in her.
“You’re going to be fine, Sullyoon-ssi,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “Just take it one step at a time. And if you ever need help, I’ll be here. Not that I’m an expert or anything,” he added with a playful smirk, “but I’m pretty good at pretending I know what I’m doing.”
She smiled, a small but genuine curve of her lips. “Thank you, Lee Know-ssi.”
“Anytime,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. Then, after a beat, he added, “But seriously, if you call me ‘sunbaenim’ one more time, I’m going to start calling you ‘hoobae-nim.’”
“Wouldn’t that be the correct thing to do?” Sullyoon retorted, tilting her head slightly. “NMIXX is the newest group at JYP, after all.”
Lee Know blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her straightforwardness. Then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, and no. You get the point of what I mean.”
Sullyoon crossed her arms, her lips curving into a rare, amused smile. “So, you’re saying I should just call you Lee Know-ssi… but you still want me to act like a proper hoobae?”
“Exactly,” Lee Know replied, snapping his fingers as if she’d just solved a difficult puzzle. “See? You’re catching on already.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small laugh that escaped her. It was strange—just minutes ago, she’d felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, but now, the tension had eased. Lee Know had a way of making things feel casual, even when the stakes were high. She wasn’t sure if it was his years of experience or just his natural charm, but either way, it was working.
“Fine,” she said, giving him a mock-serious nod. “I’ll call you Lee Know-ssi. But only because you insisted.”
“Good.” He grinned, leaning back against the table again. “And don’t worry—I won’t call you hoobae-nim. Yet.”
“Yet?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?” he teased, his tone light. “If you keep being this formal, I might not have a choice.”
Sullyoon shook her head, biting back another laugh. “You’re.. A bit annoying.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said, unfazed. Then, with a quick glance at the clock on the wall, he straightened up. “Looks like it’s almost time. Ready?”
Her stomach flipped at the reminder. The live broadcast was just minutes away, and despite their lighthearted banter, the nerves she’d been suppressing came rushing back. She took a deep breath, nodding. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Lee Know studied her for a moment, his expression softening. “You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “Just remember what I said—smile, follow the script, and if you mess up, own it. The audience loves that.”
She nodded again, his words replaying in her mind like a mantra. Smile, follow the script, own it.
“Thanks, Lee Know-ssi,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze.
“Anytime,” he replied with a small smile. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “And hey, if it all goes south, just blame it on me. I’ll take the heat.”
Sullyoon blinked, surprised by his offer. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he said with a casual shrug. “I’m the sunbae, remember? It’s my job to make you look good.”
Her lips twitched, and for the first time, she felt a genuine surge of confidence. Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The door to the waiting room opened, and a staff member poked their head in. “Five minutes until we’re live,” they announced.
Lee Know pushed off the table, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “Well, that’s our cue,” he said, turning to Sullyoon. “Let’s go show them what JYP’s finest can do.”
She stood up, her legs still a little shaky but her resolve stronger than before. “Right. Let’s do this.”
As they walked toward the stage, side by side, Lee Know glanced at her and smirked. “By the way, if you forget your lines, just elbow me. I’ll cover for you.”
She gave him a sideways look, half-amused, half-skeptical. “And what if you forget your lines?”
“Then we’re doomed,” he said with a grin.
Sullyoon couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and unguarded. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so scary after all.
The corridor outside her waiting room was quieter than she’d expected. The hum of activity from the broadcast preparations felt muted here, as if the walls absorbed the chaos just enough to create an illusion of calm. Sullyoon took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that still lingered despite Lee Know’s encouragement.
She was just about to head toward the stage when she nearly collided with someone turning the corner. Startled, she stepped back, her apology already on her lips when she froze.
“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes widening.
Standing in front of her, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that somehow looked both casual and impossibly sharp, was none other than NCT’s Jungwoo. His warm smile and easy posture radiated a distinct charisma, the kind that could only belong to someone who had been in the industry long enough to master it. He looked at her with curiosity, tilting his head slightly.
“Sullyoon, right?” Jungwoo said, his voice smooth and welcoming. “I thought I recognized you.”
She blinked, her brain struggling to process the fact that one of SM Entertainment’s most senior idols was standing right in front of her. NCT was legendary—not just a group but an empire spanning multiple units, genres, and continents. And here was Jungwoo, one of their most beloved members, casually addressing her like they were old friends.
“Uh… yes,” she stammered, bowing quickly. “Hello, sunbaenim.”
Jungwoo chuckled softly, waving off the formality. “No need for that. We’re all colleagues here.”
“Jungwoo,” Lee Know said, his tone light. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Neither did I,” Jungwoo replied with a grin. “I had some free time, so I thought I’d drop by and watch the broadcast. It’s always fun seeing how the juniors handle things.”
Sullyoon’s stomach flipped at the word “juniors.” It wasn’t meant maliciously—she knew that—but the reminder of her place in the hierarchy made her feel small. She shifted awkwardly, unsure of whether she should say something or just let the two sunbaenims talk.
Lee Know, ever perceptive, noticed her discomfort and stepped in. “Sullyoon’s co-hosting today,” he said, gesturing to her. “It’s her first live broadcast.”
Jungwoo’s eyes lit up with interest. “Really? That’s exciting.” He turned to her, his smile kind. “Don’t worry too much. It’s normal to feel nervous, but you’ll do great. Just remember to enjoy yourself.”
Sullyoon nodded, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “Thank you, sunbaenim.”
Jungwoo laughed again, shaking his head. “You JYP kids are so polite. Just Jungwoo is fine.”
“See?” Lee Know said, smirking at her. “I told you the whole ‘sunbaenim’ thing is unnecessary.”
She gave him a look but didn’t argue. It wasn’t that easy to let go of formalities, especially when she was surrounded by idols whose careers she’d admired for years. Jungwoo, in particular, felt like an untouchable figure—a senior among seniors. What could she possibly say to someone like him?
Lee Know, apparently sensing her inner turmoil, decided to make things more casual. “Anyway, Sullyoon, this is Jungwoo. Jungwoo, this is Sullyoon. She’s the visual ace of NMIXX.”
Sullyoon’s eyes widened in alarm. “Lee Know-ssi!” she hissed, mortified.
“What?” he said innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
Jungwoo laughed, clearly amused by their dynamic. “Nice to meet you, Sullyoon,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve seen some of your performances. You’re really talented.”
She hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand, her own trembling slightly. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart. “That means a lot coming from you.”
Jungwoo’s smile was warm and genuine, and for a moment, she felt a little less intimidated. But the weight of the moment still pressed down on her—two of the industry’s most seasoned idols were standing right in front of her, and she had no idea what to say. The silence stretched for a beat too long, and she felt her palms start to sweat.
Lee Know, thankfully, came to her rescue again. “Don’t let her quietness fool you,” he said to Jungwoo. “She’s sharp. Give her a few minutes, and she’ll have you laughing.”
Sullyoon shot him a look of disbelief. “I never said that.”
“No, but I can tell,” Lee Know said with a grin. “You just need to warm up a bit.”
Jungwoo chuckled. “Well, I’ll look forward to it.” He glanced at his watch, then back at them. “I should let you two get ready. Good luck out there, Sullyoon. And Lee Know, try not to tease her too much.”
“No promises,” Lee Know replied with a smirk.
As Jungwoo walked away, Sullyoon exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She turned to Lee Know, her expression a mix of awe and exasperation. “You could’ve warned me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, shrugging. “Besides, you handled it fine.”
“I barely said anything,” she muttered, still overwhelmed by the encounter.
“Sometimes less is more,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Now come on. We’ve got a show to do.”
They started walking toward the stage again, and though her nerves hadn’t completely disappeared, Sullyoon felt a small spark of confidence growing inside her. If she could survive meeting Jungwoo without completely embarrassing herself, maybe she could handle anything.