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Every time she closes her eyes, her room feels like it's closing in on her. The walls seem to tighten, making it hard to think or breathe. Her chest constricts with worry, and the empty sheet in front of her mocks her—a pitiful reminder of her lack of a love life.
She tries to remember how she ended up in this predicament.
"You haven't dated in forever," Sana says softly, breaking the oppressive silence in the dorm.
"I tried," she responds, her voice tinged with weariness. "But it didn't work. They weren't my type."
Sana steps closer, her gaze curious. "So, what is your type?"
She should have had a response ready, something to articulate her feelings, but instead, she freezes. Her mouth opens and closes, her mind racing but failing to produce coherent words. Noticing her struggle, Sana gently hands her a pen and paper. "If you can't say it, write it down," she suggests softly.
"It's ridiculous," Mina replies, casting a doubtful glance at the untouched page.
Sana offers a reassuring smile. "It's not ridiculous. Sometimes, putting things in writing helps make them clearer. You might find it easier to understand your own feelings once you see them on paper."
Which brings her to the present.
Mina taps the pen, hovering over the surface. She's Mina, the big brain of the group- the members call her.
She can do this easily.
Not a word gets written for the next two days.
The second time Sana approaches the subject is when the members return from their five-day break. As they gather for a recording session, the studio is enveloped in an unusual silence.
"Why is it so quiet in here?" Momo drawls, setting down a cup of coffee on the table.
"You know why," Sana replies, taking a sip from her own mug, her tone laced with a knowing undertone.
Momo chuckles softly in response.
Mina's gaze drifts momentarily to the lone armchair nestled in the corner of the studio—the favorite spot of their oldest member, currently occupied by Jeongyeon.
"She's coming back tomorrow, let's enjoy the peace and quiet for now," Jihyo quips, the affection in her tone contrasting the words that leave her mouth.
Sana's eyes linger on Mina, a silent question hanging in the air. "Have you written anything yet?" she prods gently.
Before Mina can respond, the silence in the studio is shattered by loud footsteps echoing in the corridor.
All heads turn to see Nayeon strolling into the studio, her smile as radiant as the sun behind her.
"Surprise!" she announces cheerfully, her laughter filling the room as she playfully kicks Jeongyeon off the armchair.
"Ugggh I hate you," Jeongyeon grumbles good-naturedly as she flops onto a nearby beanbag.
"And I missed you," Chaeyoung declares, wrapping Nayeon in a hug, only to yelp as she's unexpectedly pulled onto Nayeon's lap.
Mina shakes her head affectionately as Nayeon's lively energy fills the studio. The silence that existed mere seconds ago has been banished, but she finds herself much more at peace in this chaos.
"So, about the list?" Sana's voice interrupts her thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment.
Mina waves off the question, stealing another glance at Nayeon. Their eyes meet, and a brilliant smile spreads across Nayeon's face.
"Nothing on it yet," Mina stutters, the colour on her cheeks deepening as she catches the odd smile playing on Sana's lips.
That night, the very first point gets added to the list;
1. Needs to have an infectious energy
The next reminder for her list comes sooner than Mina expects. She could've skipped it, but cooking nights with Momo are a tradition, and she's never missed one.
She's at the stove, pouring more tomato sauce into the pan while Momo stirs lazily.
"Very hygienic," Mina says dryly as Momo licks the spoon. "When you're done pretending to be a golden retriever, can you grab me a box of pasta? I have no idea where you keep them."
Before Momo can answer, there's a quiet step behind her. "Let me get that for you," Nayeon murmurs, her voice still rough with sleep in Mina's ears.
Mina glances to her side to see Nayeon in an oversized Iron Man t-shirt and white pajama shorts, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand.
Nayeon reaches for the box, her fingers extending towards the cabinet above. As she does, she moves closer to Mina's back, her hand resting gently on Mina's waist for support.
"Here you are," Nayeon says, retrieving the pasta and offering the box as she removes her hand from Mina's waist.
Mina has to clear her throat before accepting it with a soft thank you.
Nayeon turns to leave, playfully swatting Momo's behind, which prompts an indignant yet amused curse.
Mina chuckles quietly, her gaze returning to the simmering sauce. She makes a mental note to add something to that list,
2. Has to make me believe that chivalry isn't dead.
The sun beats down on the flower field, its scorching rays driving the members to seek refuge in the small tent. The water and drinks have depleted couple of hours ago and some of the staff have gone to the nearest town in search of more supplies.
Mina's throat feels dry and her lips are cracked. She often turns her gaze to the distant mud path to see if the staff vehicle is returning.
She looks around at the tent and notices Nayeon, usually a boundless ball of energy, now looking visibly weary, her cheeks flushed with exhaustion.
If even Nayeon, is succumbing to the heat, what hope was there for the rest of them??
Sighing, she decides to distract herself from her own discomfort by opening her journal. She flips through its pages, contemplating adding another point to her perfect person but nothing comes to mind.
Sana leans over to her and gives a curious glance at the pen hovering over the paper but not touching it. "I'm guessing you haven't finished yet?"
Mina glances up from her notebook. "Don't worry, you'll be the first to know when it's done."
Sana frowns thoughtfully. "I'm starting to think you're just stalling."
Mina chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Patience is a virtue."
"Which I obviously don't have." Sana jokes.
Their conversation is broken by the sound of the van arriving and the staff bringing out trays of refreshing drinks.
Sana and Mina rise from their chairs, expressing their gratitude to the staff as they hand them the much-needed drinks.
As the rest of the members swarm around the staff, eagerly reaching for their refreshments, Mina notices Nayeon hanging back. It becomes apparent that there aren't enough drinks to go around. When Nayeon finally receives her own drink, Mina observes her quietly pass it to a crew member who hasn't had a chance to get one.
Excusing herself from her chat with Sana, Mina approaches Nayeon, holding out her drink with a warm smile. "It's too sour for my taste, I don't want it."
Nayeon waves her off with a dismissive hand. "I just finished mine," she replies with a chuckle. "My stomach will protest if I have any more."
Mina sees through Nayeon's facade, her eyes softening with genuine concern. "You know, I really don't like this drink," she says, making a show of heading towards the trash bin.
Nayeon, caught off guard, reaches out and gently grabs Mina's wrist, stopping her. Mina raises an eyebrow in surprise, and Nayeon offers a small, grateful smile. "In that case," Nayeon says with a soft sigh, "why don't we share the sourness? No point in wasting a drink, right?"
Mina refrains from pressing further and avoids bringing attention to the fact that she knows the older girl.
Yet, she is also conscious that Nayeon knows that she knows.
Because as they sit side by side, sharing the drink, Nayeon's hand, initially resting lightly around Mina's wrist, gradually shifts. With a deliberate and gentle motion, it moves lower, seeking Mina's hand and pressing it, silently conveying a thank you.
3. Is kind and considerate
Mina can't help but giggle as she watches Dahyun and Tzuyu butcher a song on their home karaoke. Their intentional off-key singing and theatrical moves are utterly ridiculous but undeniably adorable. She laughs heartily.
"They're ridiculous," she hears Nayeon tell Jeongyeon, her tone a blend of amusement and affection. "But also the cutest."
"Rich coming from someone wearing one penguin sock and one bunny sock," Jihyo points out with a smirk.
Nayeon shrugs, unfazed. "I lost my other sock earlier tonight, so I 'borrowed' Mina's."
"Stealing is the word you're looking for," Mina corrects with a soft giggle.
Nayeon flashes her a wide grin. "A sock is not what I would be stealing in a pretty girl's bedroom."
A chorus of oohs erupts through the room.
"I meant her heart, you perverts," the older girl finishes cheekily.
Mina reddens and shakes her head. She should have locked her room. It's always an adventure when the members have had a few too many drinks.
"How does someone even lose a sock?" Sana teases, laughing fondly. "Anyway, did you write anything on the list?"
"Eh?" Mina mumbles absentmindedly, her attention shifting as Jeongyeon and Nayeon suddenly start dancing on the table. Their clumsy moves and exaggerated spins, combined with Dahyun's passionate karaoke performance, send the entire table tilting and crashing down, sending both of them sprawling to the floor.
Jeongyeon winces, rubbing her behind with a muttered "Ow," while Nayeon is left with only one penguin sock, her other foot bare and sticking out awkwardly. She groans as she gets up, dusting off her trousers before scanning the room with a determined look in her eyes.
"Mina-ssi," Nayeon calls out in a playful tone.
"Nayeon-chan." Mina replies, equally coy.
"Will you be a doll and let me borrow another sock?" The Korean's eyes sparkle with exaggerated innocence, clearly ready for more chaos.
A soft smile tugs at Mina's lips as she looks at Nayeon. "You're a menace, you know that right?" she says affectionately.
Nayeon's grin only widens. "Guilty as charged," she quips.
"Go ahead, steal another sock," Mina says, leaning in slightly. "What's in it for me?"
Nayeon's smirk deepens. "My undying friendship?" she offers, tone light but sincere.
Mina hums, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin. "So.. basically nothing." She teases.
Momo bursts into laughter, while another round of oohs ripples through the room.
Still sprawled on the floor, Jeongyeon glances up at Nayeon with a clear message:"Your move."
Nayeon's eyes glint, the kind of mischief Mina's come to recognize. It never leads anywhere safe.
"I could offer more," Nayeon says, her gaze catching Mina's like it's a challenge.
Heat creeps up Mina's neck, but she manages a small shake of her head.
Quietly, she adds to her list:
4.Has to be good at banter.
The tension on set is sharp enough to cut through. Mr. Lee's frown deepens as he shakes his head, disappointment heavy in the air. Jihyo stands her ground, though Mina can see the strain in the leader's posture.
"This is quite irresponsible of you," he says, his voice raised, anger tight in his jaw.
The crew shifts uneasily, stealing glances but saying nothing.
"I'm really sorry for the oversight, Mr. Lee," Jihyo says, her voice steady but tinged with regret. "I take full responsibility for the mistake."
"An apology won't cut it," he snaps, cutting Jihyo off mid-sentence. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he tosses the folder onto the nearest metal chair, the loud clang echoing through the otherwise silent set. The sound makes more than a few people flinch.
Around them, the crew scramble to look busy, their gazes dropping to clipboards and camera rigs, pretending not to notice what's unfolding just meters away. But the way they shift uneasily and avoid meeting Jihyo's eyes makes it clear—they're just trying to shield her from further embarrassment.
"Get me the correct documents," Mr. Lee continues, his tone clipped and final. "Before five."
He doesn't wait for a reply. Instead, he pivots on his heel and strides back toward his office, the door snapping shut behind him with a quiet click that sounds far louder than it should.
Mina moves closer to stand beside Jihyo, resting her head on her shoulder in a silent attempt to offer comfort. Jihyo leans into her, sighing softly.
A few minutes later, Nayeon arrives.
She takes one look around the set and knows something's wrong. Dahyun is quick to fill her in, but Mina's already watching Nayeon's reaction. The tightness in her jaw, the flicker of something dangerous in her eyes. A vein pulses at her temple. Anger, controlled—but only just.
Without a word, Nayeon makes for the producer's office. The rest of them exchange wary glances, bracing themselves.
"Mr. Lee," Nayeon calls out as she pushes open the door, her voice cutting clean through the tense silence. "We need to talk."
The producer glances up, clearly surprised at her directness. "Nayeon-ssi... what's the matter?"
Nayeon draws a breath, shoulders squared. "I signed in the wrong place. Not Jihyo. She took the blame for my mistake."
There's a pause. Mr. Lee stares, processing. "Why didn't Jihyo tell me?"
"Because she's our leader," Nayeon replies, her voice calm, though there's an edge that cuts clean. "She's too busy carrying the weight of all of us to think about herself." She takes a step closer, her gaze unwavering. "I'll apologize a hundred times if I have to—but I won't stand by and let anyone treat her that way."
Something shifts behind Mr. Lee's eyes. His expression softens, just a little. "I understand. I'll... fix this."
When Nayeon steps back onto the set, the crew is already watching. Waiting. She doesn't say a word, but there's something steady in the way she stands there, like she's daring anyone to challenge her.
The door opens again. Mr. Lee follows, clearing his throat. "Jihyo-ssi," he says, bowing slightly. "I owe you an apology. I was wrong to blame you. It wasn't your fault."
There's a collective sigh of relief but Nayeon isn't done.
"Whether it was her fault or not," Nayeon says, still sharp but quieter now, "that's not how you speak to a leader. Actually, that's not how you speak to anyone. There are better ways to address a mistake."
Mr. Lee has the decency to look abashed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Jihyo-ssi. It won't happen again."
Jihyo's eyes widen briefly before she glances at Nayeon—gratitude passing between them, strong and sure. Loyalty unspoken, but understood.
"Thank you," Jihyo says quietly. "I appreciate it."
As the producer retreats, the set falls into a hush. But this time, there's something different in the way people look at Nayeon. Respect. Admiration. Something hard-won.
Later, when Mina picks up her pen, she adds another line to the list.
No hesitation.
It just... fits.
5. Has to stand up for what's right.
She nibbles on her bottom lip, her brow furrowing slightly as she scrutinizes the paper in front of her. She feels a pang of self-doubt, as if her intelligence is being called into question. After all, if she can't even identify her own type, maybe her perceptiveness isn't as sharp as she thought.
"Three weeks since you started writing, but you've barely made a dent in the list," Sana remarks with a dramatic sigh, turning to Mina with an exaggerated expression of disappointment. "You know, you could always include physical features too."
Mina's cheeks flush with a flash of indignation. The idea of focusing on appearances feels superficial to her, and she bristles at the implication. Fixating on looks seems too shallow, and she resents the thought of reducing her criteria to mere physical traits.
Just as a slight irritation bubbles to the surface, Nayeon's voice cuts through the tension. "Chaeyoungah, be careful!"
Mina glances up just as Nayeon moves across the room, quick and sure like she's done this a hundred times. In one fluid motion, she slides her arms under Chaeyoung's shoulders and knees, lifting her without effort.
There's something about the way Nayeon moves—focused, controlled—that holds Mina's gaze a little too long. The quiet strength, the way her muscles shift beneath the fabric of her shirt... it's oddly hard to look away.
Tzuyu's voice pulls Mina back to reality. "Chaeyoung twisted her ankle," she explains, a note of concern in her tone.
Mina's eyes stay on Nayeon as she lowers Chaeyoung into the armchair, movement deliberate and careful.
She tears her gaze away, settling on a bottle of water on the makeup stand. The cool, clear liquid suddenly seems like the most inviting thing in the room. She grabs it, twisting the cap off a little too quickly.
"Thirsty?" Sana's voice cuts through just as Mina takes a long drink. Mina nods, a faint flush creeping across her cheeks.
But her attention drifts back, unthinking. Nayeon is crouched now, focused on Chaeyoung's foot. One hand steady around her ankle, resting it on her shoulder as she turns it gently. The lines of her arms shift with the movement, defined and strong in a way that speaks of hours spent at the gym.
"It's the weather," Mina mutters, as if that explains anything.
Sana doesn't reply right away. When Mina finally glances over, there's something knowing in her expression.
6. Has to be fit
For once, Mina allows herself to be shallow.
The next day, when Mina sits down to write, it isn't for the list. It's for a song.
Jihyo had trusted her with the lyrics for their next track. It should feel like an honor. Instead, it feels like a burden. Every time she crumples a page and tosses it aside, the weight presses down harder. She starts to wonder if Jihyo's trust was misplaced. If she's a mistake.
Across the room, Dahyun glances over, sympathy softening her gaze. "Mina unnie," she says gently. "You'll find the right words. Don't push yourself so hard."
Momo hums her agreement. "You've got this. Just take it easy."
It's kind. She knows they mean it. But she can still feel their eyes on her—waiting, hoping. And that only makes the pressure worse. What if she can't do this? What if she lets them down?
Then the door opens. Nayeon walks in and takes one look at the mess of discarded pages and scattered pens.
She doesn't say anything. She just crosses the room and begins picking up the crumpled papers. One by one, smoothing each sheet with deliberate care. She reads them, slow and steady. Doesn't rush. Doesn't look up.
For a while, the only sound in the room is the soft scrape of papers between her fingers.
"The perfect song will come to you soon," Sana says quietly, looping an arm around Mina's shoulders and pulling her close. Mina leans into her, sighing softly. She wants to believe her. She tries.
But then Nayeon laughs.
It's low, sudden, and completely unexpected. It cuts through the quiet, snapping every gaze toward her.
Mina freezes. Braces herself for the sting—that sharp, familiar edge of criticism she's sure is coming. Of course Nayeon would laugh. Of course she'd think it was ridiculous.
Mina swallows hard. Her fingers curl into her palm, nails pressing into skin. But she doesn't look away. She makes herself watch.
And Nayeon—Nayeon is only looking at her. And the look in her eyes doesn't match the sound of her laugh at all.
"The perfect song's already here," Nayeon says, like it's the simplest truth. Her voice is firm, leaving no room for doubt. She keeps unfolding each page, smoothing them with care before sliding them neatly into a folder. "In each of these sheets," she adds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Mina watches. Watches Nayeon take what she thought was ruined and make it whole again. Piece by piece. Her words. Her work. Held in hands that treat them like something worth keeping.
And something steadies inside her.
Not all at once.
But enough.
Enough that, later that night, she picks up her pen again.
She writes like breathing. Like it's simple. Like it was always meant to happen.
The next day, when she shares the song with the others, the room goes quiet. There are soft gasps. Shining eyes.
They're moved. She can tell.
But Nayeon— Nayeon just sits in the corner. Serene. Unfazed. Like she knew Mina would get there all along. Like it was never even a question.
And maybe, for Nayeon, it never was.
Later, after the others have gone, Mina adds something new to the list.
7. Has to have faith in me. Even when I don't.
Mina remains engrossed in her phone game, her eyes fixed on the screen, seemingly oblivious to the escalating argument between Nayeon and Jeongyeon over an unflattering photo that has now erupted into a full-blown quarrel.
"Seriously? You had to share that photo?" Nayeon's voice is sharp and edged with embarrassment.
"What's wrong with it? It's hilarious!" Jeongyeon defends herself haughtily.
"It's embarrassing! I look like a potato!" Nayeon's cheeks flush with frustration, her voice rising as she vents her exasperation. The situation clearly distresses her.
Their raised voices and heated exchange attract the attention of the other members in the studio, who exchange worried glances and murmur among themselves.
"Hey, calm down, you two. It's just a photo," Jihyo interjects, trying to diffuse the tension.
"Photo, potato," Jeongyeon chuckles, her laughter mingling with Nayeon's growing irritation.
"Just a photo? Have you even seen it, Jihyo?!" Nayeon asks, her irritation now directed at Jeongyeon, whose smirk seems to fuel Nayeon's agitation.
"Guys, let's not fight over this," Chaeyoung tries to mediate the conflict.
"Yeah, it's not worth it," Tzuyu agrees, nodding earnestly to support Chaeyoung's attempt to quell the argument.
"Can't we all just get along?" Dahyun asks, to bring some peace to the situation.
"And sing kumbaya," Momo adds with an attempt at humor, though her joke falls flat as both Nayeon and Jeongyeon shoot disapproving glares at her.
"But that picture is so ugly!" Nayeon insists, her frustration reaching a fever high.
"Oh, come on, Nayeonnie. Lighten up," Jeongyeon urges, rolling her eyes with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
Sana, noticing the deadlock and sensing the need for a more diplomatic approach, steps in with an authoritative tone. "Hey, guys, let's take a moment to listen to each other."
Nayeon sighs deeply, as she turns her attention to Sana. "Fine, what do you have to say, Sana?"
"I think we're all overreacting here. It's just a funny photo, nothing more," Sana reasons calmly, her voice soothing and level as she attempts to bring a sense of perspective to the heated situation.
"Yeah, let's not be dramatic about it," Jeongyeon mocks lightly.
"You piece of—" Nayeon begins to retort, advancing toward Jeongyeon with visible anger. Jeongyeon backs off with a cheeky grin, her bravado only slightly faltering under the weight of Nayeon's ire.
Sensing that the situation is about to spiral out of control, Mina sets her phone aside and gets up from her seat with a soft sigh. The screech of the chair scraping against the floor draws Nayeon's attention, interrupting her tirade. "shi—" Nayeon's voice trails off as she notices Mina approaching.
Mina steps in, slipping between them before anyone else can react.
"Jeongyeon, that wasn't a very nice thing to do. Say sorry," she says, her voice stern but calm.
Jeongyeon scoffs. "She should be sorry for that face," she mutters, grinning, still pushing.
Mina sighs, doesn't engage with her. She turns to Nayeon instead, meeting her eyes without hesitation. "That photo is not that ugly," she says, quieter now but with certainty.
For a second, Nayeon stares at her. Like she's trying to figure something out. Then the corner of her mouth tugs up, breaking through the frustration on her face. A breath of a laugh escapes her. "Not that ugly?"
Mina gives a tiny nod, but she can feel her cheeks warming. "I meant... it's actually kind of cute," she amends, the corners of her mouth lifting in a genuine smile.
Nayeon blinks again, but the edge is gone from her expression. There's a pause—just long enough for Mina to wonder if she just made things worse—before Nayeon lets out a resigned sigh. "Well, if Mina says so," she says at last, her tone defeated, "then I guess it's not that bad."
Across from them, Jeongyeon scoffs. "If Mina says so, then the sky's freaking neon green." Her words are dry, but there's amusement in them.
Nayeon shoots Jeongyeon a familiar glare, the kind that usually means another round is coming. Her hand twitches at her side like she's about to make her case again.
But then Mina's fingers curl a little tighter around the fabric of Nayeon's shirt—barely a tug, just enough to hold her in place. She looks up, meeting Nayeon's eyes with a quiet, steady gaze, and gives a small shake of her head.
For a moment, Nayeon holds her ground, jaw set. But then, slowly, she exhales. The tension in her shoulders eases, frustration giving way to something else. With a huff, she throws up her hands. "I'm getting a drink," she mutters, her voice carrying a thread of lingering defiance, but nothing sharp enough to cut.
Mina watches her go, her hand slipping back to her side. She lingers longer than she means to, her eyes following Nayeon's retreating figure until she disappears around the corner.
There's something warm in her chest, something familiar.
Just relief, she tells herself.
Later, alone with her thoughts, Mina flips open her notebook and adds to the list.
8. Respects my words.
Mina drags herself into the dorm, the door clicking softly shut behind her. Every step feels heavier than the last after an exhausting recording session. The room she shares with Jihyo and Jeongyeon feels unusually still tonight, quiet in a way that makes the air feel colder.
Jihyo looks up from unpacking their dinner, her hands pausing over the takeout containers. "You okay?" she asks gently.
Mina musters a faint smile. "Yeah," she says, voice thinner than she meant it to be. She sinks down onto the couch, her shoulders folding in as she exhales slowly.
Jeongyeon pads in from the bathroom, towel around her neck, hair damp. She joins them at the table, and they eat in the easy rhythm of familiarity, conversation light and aimless.
Mina barely tastes anything. Her mind drifts, tugged back to the date. She doesn't want to think about it, but she does anyway.
It would've been Ray-chan's birthday.
The thought sits heavy in her chest. She pictures Ray-chan's tail wagging, the joy in his eyes, how he used to bounce around whenever Mina so much as looked his way. If things were different, they'd be celebrating with treats and silly hats, the way she always used to.
The sound of the doorbell breaks the silence, causing them all to look up in surprise. Jeongyeon, curious, goes to answer the door.
Nayeon steps in with a hesitant smile, holding a box of doughnuts. "Surprise!" she says brightly. "I know you've all been working hard, so I brought a little treat." In her other hand, she carries a small bag with what looks like more desserts.
The sight of the doughnuts brings a welcome distraction. They gather around to enjoy the treats, but Mina can't help noticing how quiet and composed Nayeon seems tonight. She stays close to Mina, her presence oddly comforting despite the lack of conversation.
After they finish eating, Nayeon heads to the kitchen. She returns with a small cake, a single candle flickering on top. With a gentle, almost reverent touch, she places the cake on the table. "Happy birthday, Ray-chan," Nayeon says softly.
Mina feels an intense sadness that wraps tightly around her heart. The warmth of the simple gesture contrasts sharply with the chill of her grief. Even though the sadness still lingers, it begins to lift little by little, making the sorrow feel more bearable. The small cake and candle soften the edges of her pain, offering a gentle reprieve.
Her throat feels too tight to say the two words she wants to say: thank you.
Later, as the room settles into quiet, Mina silently prays for Ray-chan's peace. Sitting at her desk, she picks up her pen and writes the next point on her list
9. Knows every single thing about me
"It's cold today," Mina says softly, trying to pull her short dress down to cover her legs for some warmth. "It's not fair that you all get to wear suits," she pouts.
Sana laughs, glancing at Mina with a teasing smile. "Well, you're the princess in this scene," she replies playfully. "And you still haven't finished your list."
Mina sighs, shrugging. Ten days at home, meant for quiet reflection, and still, nothing new has made it onto the list. No matter how hard she tries.
"What were you both thinking?" Jihyo's angry voice cuts through Mina's thoughts.
Mina turns to see Jihyo standing with her arms crossed, her face a mix of anger and disappointment. Nayeon looks down, nervously biting her lip, while Jeongyeon tries to explain, "Jihyo, it's not what it looks like—"
"What possible explanation is there for Nayeon grabbing a fan's phone and smashing it on the ground?" Jihyo demands, frustration evident in her voice. "And Jeongyeon, you just stood there and let it happen?"
Dahyun's eyes widen in disapproval. "You did what?" she exclaims, clearly upset by their actions.
Sana grabs a reluctant Mina's arm and drags her toward the scene. "I'm sure there's a reason," Sana says once she gets there, trying to calm Jihyo by gently stroking her arm.
Jihyo exhales loudly, shaking her head in clear disappointment. The tension in the room grows, and Mina feels her own frustration bubbling to the surface.
"I just wanted a calm first day back," Mina says softly, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. Jeongyeon has the decency to avert her eyes. But Nayeon—Nayeon meets her gaze head-on.
Mina doesn't hold back. The words are out before she can think the better of them. "But you couldn't even give me that." She starts off speaking to both of them, but by the time the sentence ends, her focus is entirely on Nayeon—her tone edged with something sharper, something close to disdain.
A flicker of hurt flashes across Nayeon's eyes, and she flinches as if she'd physically struck her.
The producer steps in, his face stern and resolute. "Jihyo is right. This kind of behavior reflects poorly on all of us," he says firmly. "We have an image to uphold."
Jeongyeon's vein pulses visibly as she tries to speak but ends up biting her words back.
Just as the situation seems to reach its peak, two officers approach the group. "Excuse me, we need to speak with you," one of them says, his tone serious.
The producer, still frustrated, turns to the officers. "What now?" he asks, exasperated.
The officer holds up a phone. "We've retrieved this phone and, upon inspection, found upskirt pictures of your members."
Mina feels her stomach twist.
"He's being charged," the officer continues, turning toward Jeongyeon and Nayeon. "Your quick thinking helped us apprehend someone who could have caused further harm."
Jihyo's expression shifts, realization hitting like a slap. Guilt creeps into her voice. "I'm sorry," she says quietly, looking at Jeongyeon and Nayeon. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. You did the right thing."
Jeongyeon exhales, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. "It's okay," she mutters.
The others apologize too, murmured words of regret filling the space.
Mina turns to Jeongyeon, her voice softer now. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."
Jeongyeon gives her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. You didn't know."
Mina looks at Nayeon who is staring aimlessly at the ground.
She doesn't apologise.
Because she knows—words wouldn't be enough.
Instead, once they are settled in the van after the shoot, Mina takes a deep breath and turns to face Nayeon. She gently reaches out, her fingers lightly tracing along the curve of Nayeon's chin before turning her face towards her with a delicate touch. Nayeon looks at Mina with eyes that reflect a mix of confusion and a hint of hurt.
She leans in, sliding her arms around Nayeon's shoulders, pulling her close. As she presses her cheek against Nayeon's shoulder, she closes her eyes, letting out a soft, shaky sigh.
The van comes to a gentle stop at their dorm. Mina carefully loosens her hold, her hands lingering for a moment on Nayeon's shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. She offers Nayeon a warm, watery smile, before stepping out of the van.
Once inside her dorm, Mina heads straight to her desk.
Sitting down, she takes out her pen and writes a new point on her list,
10. Is my Prince Charming
The awards show is in full swing, the hall alive with lights and a low buzz of excitement. Mina sits with her group at their VIP table, laughter easy, champagne glasses catching the glow from the stage.
Everything feels light. Comfortable. Until it doesn't.
A senior idol from a top girl group drifts over—graceful, polished. She stops at their table, her smile landing squarely on Nayeon.
"Hey there, gorgeous," the woman says, voice low, smooth. She leans in, gaze sliding down Nayeon's white dress, lingering. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."
Nayeon smiles. Polite. Warm enough. "Thank you," she says, steady. "You look amazing too."
Mina watches. Fingers tightening around the stem of her glass.
Across the table, the members exchange a look—amused by how openly the woman flirts with Nayeon.
Jeongyeon leans toward Mina, her tone casual. "You could smile," she says. "You look a little tense."
Mina blinks, loosening her grip on the glass. "Was I?"
Jeongyeon's mouth tips into a half-smile. "Just a little."
Mina exhales and looks back at Nayeon. The idol is laughing now, her hand brushing Nayeon's arm like they're old friends.
Mina takes a sip of water from her glass. It tastes bitter.
"You should pay me attention," Jeongyeon says, playful. Teasing.
Mina turns, a small smile pulling at her lips. "What are you up to?"
Jeongyeon grins, eyes bright. "Trying to cheer you up. It's kind of my thing."
Mina's smirk deepens, the weight in her chest lifting a little. "Is that right?"
Before Jeongyeon can answer, the senior idol's laugh rings out, cutting through the background noise.
The woman twirls a strand of her hair, fingers trailing over Nayeon's arm again. Mina notices. So does Sana, who nudges Jihyo with a smirk.
Mina glances away, but Jeongyeon leans closer, voice low, easy. "You know, if I had to pick the most beautiful person in this room..."
Mina raises a brow, curious. "Yeah?"
Jeongyeon's eyes glint. "It'd be you."
Mina huffs a quiet laugh. "What am I supposed to do with this information?"
"Nothing." Jeongyeon shrugs. "Just wanted to say it. Why, does it make you uncomfortable?"
Mina tilts her head, lips curling. "Maybe I can't handle your level of confidence."
Jeongyeon leans back with a wink. "Oh, you could handle me just fine."
Mina laughs, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. When she glances up, Nayeon is watching them, her expression unreadable. Their eyes meet for half a second—Mina lifts a brow, silent question—but Nayeon's already turning back, answering something the woman just said.
Except now, there's a gentle shift. A barely noticeable change in the older girl's posture. A subtle change that places a careful distance between herself and the idol.
Mina doesn't think much of it. She and Jeongyeon fall back into easy banter as the show winds down, light teasing and familiar smiles.
Later, as the crowd thins out, Nayeon steps away from the senior idol. Her eyes find Mina, laughing at something Jeongyeon's said.
Nayeon picks up a fake flower from the table. Walks over.
"Hey," she says, offering it with a grin that's all teeth. "I got this for you."
Mina's eyes twinkle as she teases gently. "A leftover fake flower? How thoughtful."
Nayeon shrugs. "It's not real, but it'll stay beautiful forever." Her voice softens. "Like you."
Mina flushes, the last of her irritation dissolving. "That's... actually kind of sweet."
Jeongyeon gasps in mock offense. "Hey! I called you beautiful first!"
Nayeon laughs, reaching for Jeongyeon's arm. "Relax, Romeo. I'm not stealing your girl. But I'm tired, let's go."
Jeongyeon pounds her chest dramatically. "You hear that, Mina? You're my girl."
Mina rolls her eyes, smiling as Jeongyeon blows an exaggerated kiss. She catches it, playing along.
Later that night, Mina adds to her list:
11. Makes me feel secure in the relationship.
Mina is panicking. After a whirlwind day of rehearsals and meetings, all she wants is a quiet night. But instead, a ping from her phone sends her spiraling: her parents are coming for dinner, and there's no time to prepare.
She grabs groceries on the way home and rushes inside, only to find a small miracle waiting. Her members are already in the kitchen, busy preparing dinner.
"Surprise!" Momo grins, holding a spatula like a microphone. "We've got this covered."
Mina stops short, staring in disbelief. "You didn't have to do this."
Jihyo waves her off with a smile. "Of course we did. We're family too, right?"
Chaeyoung and Tzuyu chop vegetables in perfect sync. Sana sets the table with her usual flair, while Dahyun stirs something fragrant on the stove. Jeongyeon tastes a sauce, nodding with approval.
"I didn't know you could cook, Jeongyeon," Mina says, still wide-eyed.
Jeongyeon smirks. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Myoui."
Mina's chest tightens, full of something warm. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without all of you."
"Thank your manager," Jihyo cuts in. "She's the one who called Nayeon and gave us the heads-up."
Mina makes a mental note to buy her manager a gift basket. She glances around, noticing someone missing.
Sana answers the silent question with a smile. "She went to get pastries from that French bakery your parents love. She'll be back soon."
Nayeon returns just before Mina's parents arrive, arms full of pastry boxes. When the door opens, the apartment smells like a home-cooked meal. Mina's parents step inside, beaming.
"Keeping your place tidy, I see," her mother says, taking it all in. "And the food smells wonderful!"
"They all pitched in," Mina says modestly, pouring a cocktail Jihyo has made for everyone.
When she finally gets to Nayeon, she pours only half a glass. Nayeon grabs her wrist softly, and looks up at her with a pout on her lips, and question in her eyes.
Mina doesn't try to release herself. Instead, she leans down a little, close enough for her breath to hit the older girls flushed skin, and explains softly in her ear, "Jihyo made it."
Nayeon's gaze softens with understanding. She squeezes Mina's wrist gently before letting go, her fingers lingering for a moment. "Thanks," she whispers, clearing her throat a little.
Jihyo's cocktails are known for being almost straight spirits, and Mina knows Nayeon has a morning shoot the next day. Nayeon takes a small sip of the liquid, her face reddening even more as the alcohol hits her immediately.
As the night winds down, Mina's father raises his glass. "Thank you all for a wonderful evening. It's been a joy."
Her mother smiles warmly. "We expect to see you all at our house soon." She turns to Nayeon with a kind look. "Take care of our girl."
Nayeon nods. The members chime in with promises to visit. Mina walks her parents out, her heart full, and returns to the others.
"I don't even know how to thank you," she says quietly.
Jihyo slings an arm around her shoulders. "You don't need to. That's what family's for."
Jeongyeon nudges her playfully. "So? Did we pass the test?"
Mina laughs, the sound light and genuine. "They adore you."
Dahyun pouts. "What about me?"
Mina rolls her eyes. "Of course they loved you."
Chaeyoung, who's been quiet, pipes up. "Your mom said I'm very creative. She asked for my autograph."
They all laugh. Mina can't help but shake her head. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Sana grins. "We're lucky to have you too, Mina."
At the end of the night, before heading to her room, Mina sees Nayeon passed out on the sofa, snoring softly, her glasses still on. Her hair is tousled, and a soft smile plays on her lips even in sleep.
Jihyo, catching Mina's gaze, steps closer. "She's been running around since she got the call," she whispers. "If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have finished in time."
Mina's heart swells with a mix of affection and gratitude as she silently approaches Nayeon. She kneels beside the sofa and takes a moment to admire Nayeon's peaceful face, illuminated softly by the dim light. She reaches out to remove Nayeon's glasses, fingers accidentally brushing against her cheek, causing her to stir slightly. The older girl's eyelids flutter, but she remains deeply asleep.
Mina's touch lingers, tracing the gentle curve of Nayeon's cheekbone with a tenderness she didn't know she possessed. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind Nayeon's ear. Nayeon mumbles something incoherent in her sleep and Mina finds herself leaning closer.
The urge to press a kiss to Nayeon's forehead is sudden, almost instinctive. But Mina holds back, worried she'll wake her—and shy about crossing a line she isn't sure she's allowed to. Instead, she whispers, soft and sincere, "Thank you."
She stands up, casting one final, affectionate glance at Nayeon before heading to her room. The door clicks shut behind her, and she makes her way to her desk, a pensive look on her face.
Sitting down, Mina picks up her pen with newfound determination. She begins to write the final point on her list:
Loves your family like their own
Instead, she writes,
12. Must wear glasses
She stares at the words on the page, unable to move.
What the hell?
What in the world
Her mind races, heart pounding furiously in her chest as she gazes at the paper. The sudden realization hits her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless. The room, once familiar and comforting, now feels stiflingly small and confining as she struggles to process the truth that settles heavily in her chest.
Sana's question echoes in her mind: "So, what is your type?"
The answer becomes clear with startling precision:
because there it is.
Clear as day.
Im Nayeon is her type.
She avoids Nayeon after the realization. Not on purpose, she tells herself, but that's a lie. It's very much on purpose.
She finds reasons to leave the room whenever Nayeon walks in. She answers texts instead of looking up when Nayeon speaks. She volunteers for the earliest schedules, knowing Nayeon prefers late nights and slow mornings. Brick by brick, she builds a careful distance, convincing herself it's for the best—sitting at the opposite end of the van, slipping out of practice early, pretending not to hear when Nayeon calls her name across a crowded room.
And Nayeon, being Nayeon, doesn't push at first. She smiles, gives her space. Pretends not to notice the way Mina flinches when their eyes meet.
But she does notice.
Of course she does.
It's Nayeon.
And Nayeon finally breaks.
It's late—after a quiet night at Momo's dorm, long after everyone's drifted off to sleep. Mina stands in the kitchen, staring blankly at a half-empty drawer she's opened for no reason. She isn't looking for anything. She just needs to move. To keep breathing.
Then she hears footsteps behind her. Strong, familiar. She doesn't have to turn around to know.
Nayeon.
Mina's hand closes around the edge of the counter, gripping it until her knuckles ache. She feels the storm coming. Has felt it brewing for days. There's no way to stop it now.
"Mina," Nayeon says. Her voice is low, careful. "Are we okay?"
Mina's heart thuds, slow and heavy. "Yes." She doesn't lift her head. "Why wouldn't we be?"
A pause.
"You've been avoiding me."
Mina forces herself to turn around, but it's mechanical—like her body isn't hers. She shrugs, but it's weak. A hollow gesture. "I've been busy."
Nayeon steps closer. It's barely anything—half a step—but Mina feels it all the same. The pull. The ache in her chest that hasn't stopped since that night. The part of her that wants to close the space between them. And the part that won't let her.
"Talk to me," Nayeon says. There's something raw in her voice now. Frayed at the edges. "I don't like this. I don't know what I did."
Mina's throat burns. "You didn't do anything."
"Then why won't you talk to me?" Nayeon exhales through her nose, slow and shaky. "Why won't you even look at me?"
Mina does. Just for a second. And it hurts. Nayeon's eyes are tired in a way Mina's never seen before. Tired of pretending this isn't happening. Tired of chasing her.
"I can't," Mina says, her voice breaking on the words. Because if she says anything more, it'll all come out. I love you. I didn't mean for this to happen. I don't know how to fix it. I'm so scared. So she turns away, fast, before Nayeon can see the tears threatening to spill.
There's a beat of silence. Then Nayeon's voice, quieter. "Can't... or won't?"
And that's the thing—Mina doesn't know the answer. Maybe it's both.
She pushes off the counter, like standing there any longer might shatter her, and walks away.
Nayeon doesn't follow.
And somehow, that's the part that hurts the most.
The list was supposed to stay hidden.
It's stupid, really. Mina had tucked it in a notebook, shoved it behind her sketchbooks, told herself it was safe there—out of sight, out of mind. But things have a way of unraveling, and today it's Sana who pulls the wrong book free.
Papers flutter to the ground. One of them skids across the floor.
Sana picks it up before Mina can move. Her eyes scan it quickly—too quickly—and they widen.
"Mina," she says, stunned. "Is this...?"
Mina's chest tightens. "Give it to me."
But Sana hesitates, fingers clutching the paper. "You wrote this about her."
Mina's heartbeat is thunderous in her ears. "Give it back."
Before Sana can react, a breeze sneaks through the open window. The page jerks from her hand, twisting in the air.
"No," Mina whispers, lunging for it.
Too late.
It dances out the window like a taunt, disappearing from view.
They rush to the window. Mina's pulse hammers as her eyes search below.
The list is gone.
Wind tugs at loose strands of Sana's hair as she leans out beside her, both of them scanning the space between balconies and pavement. But there's nothing. No telltale flash of paper.
"It's just a piece of paper," Sana says after a moment, her voice softer than Mina expects.
Minas stomach churns as she forces herself to step back, hands trembling when they curl at her sides.
Later, she tells herself it's gone.
Out of her hands.
Forgotten.
She almost believes it.
Until the next day.
She's exhausted. Skin damp under the lights. Brain fogged from hours of repetition. Mina's halfway through untangling her earpiece when she hears it.
"Mina."
She freezes.
Nayeon stands in the doorway. Dressed down in sweats. Hair loose across her face like she hadn't bothered. But her eye, clear, focussed. She crosses the room slowly. Like she's giving Mina a chance to bolt.
Mina doesn't move.
Nayeon stops in front of her. Holds something out.
White paper. Worn edges. Folded once, neat. Mina's stomach drops. She looks at it. Then at Nayeon. The older girl's face gives nothing away.
"I think this belongs to you," Nayeon says.
Mina's fingers don't want to move. But they do. She takes the paper. Opens it slow, mechanical.
Her handwriting.
Her list.
Her pulse kicks up. She glances up, panicked. "Where did you—"
"It flew into my room." Nayeon's voice is steady. But her eyes are searching. "I read it."
Mina's breath falters, panic rising in her chest. "Nayeon—"
"I added something," The older girl says softly. "You should read it."
With trembling hands, Mina unfolds the paper again.
There, beneath Must wear glasses, a new line appears.
Neater handwriting.
Different ink.
13. Loves you back.
Mina stares at it, the words blurring for a moment. She looks up. Nayeon's still there. Waiting. Vulnerable in a way Mina's never seen before.
Her heart pounds, wild and heavy. She should say something. Anything.
She doesn't.
Instead, she does what she always does.
She runs.
Three days later, they're at an awards show. It should be simple—an award to accept, a speech to deliver, fans to entertain.
But someone forgets to lock the support on one of the lights. It crashes down. Fast.
Too fast.
Nayeon shoves an idol out of the way, taking the hit herself.
Later, they'll say it could've been worse. Mild concussion. A few stitches. A week's rest. A few weeks wrapped in bandages.
Mina doesn't remember how she pushed through the crowd, how she dropped to her knees beside Nayeon, her hands trembling too much to hold still.
"I'm okay," Nayeon says, weakly smiling, blood trickling from the side of her head.
All Mina sees is red—the blood, the panic, and the fury that rises inside her. "You're not," she snaps.
Later, Mina sits in the van, her hands gripped tightly in her lap, eyes fixed on the window as the night passes by. She doesn't go to the hospital with Nayeon. The others do.
She tells herself it's fine. Nayeon doesn't need her there.
Another lie.
The guilt gnaws at her, persistent.
The others check in. Take turns staying with Nayeon.
Mina doesn't.
Because facing Nayeon means facing everything she hasn't let herself feel. And she isn't ready.
But when Jihyo mentions Nayeon hasn't been sleeping—that she's restless, frustrated, hollowing out in her silence—something fractures inside Mina.
It's well past midnight when she finds herself standing at Nayeon's door. Her hand hovers over the handle, uncertain, as if it might scald her.
She exhales. Steadies herself. And opens it anyway.
The room is dim, the bedside lamp casting a muted glow. Nayeon is propped on the sofa, cocooned in a throw. There's a bandage around her head, and despite the exhaustion shadowing her features, she offers a faint, weary smile when she notices Mina.
Mina crosses the room and lowers herself to the couch—close, but careful not to touch. She sees it then, the fatigue pulling at Nayeon's shoulders, the restless energy in the way her fingers curl around the blanket.
She wants to reach out. But she's still angry.
"Does it hurt?" she asks, quieter than intended.
"Not too bad," Nayeon replies with a shrug, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "I hate sitting still the most."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have done something so reckless." Mina's words come out sharper than she means.
Nayeon tilts her head, studying Mina with a level, almost defiant look. It's the same one that always leaves Mina feeling stripped bare, defenseless.
"You scared me," Mina admits, her throat tightening. "Don't do that again."
"I know." Nayeon's voice drops, quieter, steadier. She's trying to soothe, but there's something raw beneath it. "I wasn't thinking. I just... reacted."
"You could've—" Mina breaks off, her breath catching. "You could've been seriously hurt."
"I wasn't," Nayeon answers, as if that's enough.
Mina holds her gaze. Her fingers twitch, restless, wanting to anchor themselves somewhere. "If we're doing this... no more heroics. No more saving damsels in distress."
"Not even you?" Nayeon asks, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips.
Mina frowns, but the knot in her chest eases a little. "Not even me. You matter too much."
The distance shrinks before she realizes it. Their knees brush. Mina looks at Nayeon—really looks—and it hits her how fragile she seems now, worn thin at the edges.
"I can't lose you," Mina breathes, her fingertips ghosting along the edge of Nayeon's bandage, deliberate and careful.
Nayeon flinches, just barely, and Mina freezes. But before she can retreat, Nayeon catches her wrist gently, holding it there. Guiding her back.
Mina's hand settles on Nayeon's cheek. Her pulse hammers beneath her skin. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she murmurs, voice unsteady. "I... I'm in—"
Nayeon's expression softens, but there's nothing easy about the emotion in her eyes.
"I know," she whispers. "Me too."
Mina closes her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, feeling the weight of the words settle somewhere deep. When she opens them again, Nayeon's closer—close enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
"I said 'me too,' like an idiot," Nayeon murmurs, her laugh breathy, faint color rising to her cheeks. "But... I'm in love with you too. I don't know when it started. But it's there."
Mina's heart lurches. She offers a small, shaky smile, warmth spreading through her chest like sunlight breaking through clouds. She takes in Nayeon's face—the tentative curve of her lips, the unguarded vulnerability in her gaze—and leans in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
It's the lightest contact. But it leaves her reeling.
When she draws back, Nayeon's eyes are closed, as if she's holding onto the feeling. Slowly, they flutter open, and when she smiles again, it's quieter now. As if the world's softened around them.
Mina's hand lingers on Nayeon's cheek, her thumb brushing across her skin. After a moment, she lets it slip away, but before the space can settle between them, Nayeon catches her hand. Their fingers find each other, resting together in the quiet.
They stay like that. Close. Neither ready to let go. Neither speaking.
For now, Mina thinks, her hand resting in Nayeon's—is enough.
For now, it's enough.
Two weeks later, the studio hums with quiet energy. Jihyo is sorting through tracks on the computer, Sana's sprawled on the couch tapping at her phone, and Nayeon sits in the corner, half-focused on lyrics, her pencil twirling lazily between her fingers.
Mina sits cross-legged on the floor, a game open on her phone. But her attention drifts—again—to Nayeon. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, and the older girl offers a soft, knowing smile before glancing back down at her page.
Mina's heart skips, warmth blooming quietly in her chest. She lowers her gaze, opening her notebook to the lone sheet nestled between its pages, soft and worn, her handwriting filling the lines in careful strokes.
The list.
It's silly, really.
But it's theirs.
Fourteen reasons why Nayeon is... Nayeon.
Fourteen reasons why Nayeon has quietly, steadily filled the spaces in Mina's life.
She skims down to the newest entry, written just last night.
14. Is an incredible lover.
Her lips curve into a small, shy smile as flashes of memory rush in—the heat of Nayeon's touch, soft yet commanding, the way her breath would catch as their bodies moved closer, the warmth of it all still fresh in her veins, making her pulse quicken.
"What's this?" Sana sing-songs, plucking the paper from Mina's hands before she can react.
Mina scrambles upright. "Sana—give it back," she hisses, already feeling her cheeks flush.
But Sana's eyes are darting over the page, her grin growing wider by the second. "Fourteen reasons... oh?" She pauses dramatically, then reads aloud with far too much enthusiasm, "'Fourteen: Is an incredible lover.'"
Silence.
Mina's face burns.
Chaeyoung lets out a low whistle.
Dahyun coughs into her fist, barely hiding her grin.
Momo wiggles her eyebrows, and Jeongyeon mutters, "Finally," like she's been waiting weeks for this.
Jihyo doesn't even look up from the computer as she adds, "Took you two long enough."
And Tzuyu, deadpan as ever, says, "Well. That explains all the noise."
Mina groans, feeling her face get impossibly hotter.
Sana fans herself, eyes wide with mock scandal. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, waving the page in the air like it's evidence in a courtroom.
Mina snatches it back, hugging it to her chest as if she can disappear behind it. "You're impossible," she mutters, ears burning.
But then Nayeon laughs. That unguarded, beautiful laugh that makes Mina's stomach flip every single time. She glances over to find Nayeon already watching her—cheeks flushed, eyes bright. Like this—all of it—is the easiest thing in the world.
Their gazes catch. Hold. And even with Sana's teasing and the chaos around them, it all fades into the background.
Just them.
Nayeon crosses the room, stopping beside Mina, amusement still gleaming in her eyes. "Sana," Nayeon begins, and Mina readies herself, expecting her to come to her defense. But instead, Nayeon casts a playful smirk at Sana, her voice light and teasing. "You know, Mina's never wrong," she says, as though it's the most obvious truth in the world.
Mina groans again, hiding her face behind her hands as the room erupts in fresh laughter.
And then she feels it—Nayeon's fingers brushing against hers, quiet and sure. Steady.
Mina looks up, really looks at her, and it's all there.
Everything they never quite said aloud.
Everything they are now.
She exhales slowly, letting herself smile.
"She verified it herself last night," Nayeon adds casually, like she's talking about the weather.
Mina buries her face again as laughter rings out around them, but Nayeon's hand stays holding hers, their fingers threading together like they belong.
And in that moment—surrounded by friends, laughter, and love—Mina knows this list is only the beginning ;
The first page in a million more reasons why Im Nayeon will always be the one for her.