Chapter Text
YN’s POV
I was nine when I stopped believing in birthday candles.
They never worked anyway—not when you wish for things like “Please let Mom smile at me today” or “Please don’t let him hit me tonight.” They burn out. Just like hope.
I stared at the ceiling of our dim apartment, the paint peeling in little curls like it wanted to escape too. My body ached from another night of being the family punching bag. My mind screamed. But my voice? Silent.
"You're a mistake," my mother spat earlier, tossing a dirty towel at my face like I was the trash. “If I could go back, I’d have never had you.”
Noted.
I curled deeper into my blanket, clutching my busted phone—its cracked screen the closest thing I had to starlight. YouTube was open. A live clip of ENHYPEN laughing backstage played softly, their voices like oxygen to my drowning lungs.
Sunoo was giggling again—loud and unbothered. Sunghoon had his classic ice-prince smile, but his eyes softened when Jake nudged him playfully. They were beautiful. Untouchable. And so far from this hell.
“If I could disappear,” I whispered, “I’d go to them.”
The next thing I knew, my body jerked.
Not emotionally. Physically.
The air whooshed out of me. My skin buzzed like electricity ran through my veins. I screamed. But the sound never came.
And then—
Fluorescent lights. A couch. Laughter.
“Bro, give it back—” someone said, and my eyes flew open.
I was in a room I’d only ever seen on screens.
ENHYPEN’s dressing room.
Third Person
Confused, breathless, and trembling, YN slammed herself against the nearest wall. Her eyes darted around the room like prey. The members hadn’t noticed her yet—they were still laughing over something, unaware of the girl who had just appeared like a glitch in their reality.
Her legs shook. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and not in the romantic, fangirl way. This was pure terror.
“What the hell—what the hell—” she muttered. Her fingers clenched the edge of a shelf. Think. Move. Run.
She spotted the door.
And ran.
YN’s POV
I didn’t even stop to breathe until I was halfway down a hallway I’d never seen before, past some confused staff and makeup artists.
Someone called out, “Hey, wait!”
But I was already gone.
Like... gone gone.
The moment my brain screamed GET OUT, I felt that electric pull again—and then I was back.
In my bed. My tiny, ugly, suffocating bed.
I sat up and puked into the trash can beside me. My entire body felt like it had been unplugged and rebooted. I was drenched in sweat, shaking like I’d been hit by lightning.
What. The. Actual. Hell.
Third Person
Later that night, YN sat curled up with her arms around her knees, eyes wide and dry. She wasn’t crying anymore. The tears had run out hours ago.
She stared at the cracked screen of her phone, now paused on a blurry frame of Heeseung smiling at the camera.
Was that real?
She didn’t have answers.
Just one horrifying, absurd, impossible question:
“Can I teleport?”
Scene Break
The next few days passed in a haze. YN barely spoke. Not like anyone would notice. Her mother worked double shifts and only came home to yell. Her father was... somewhere. Hopefully rotting.
School? Pointless.
Eating? Optional.
Existing? A habit.
But between the numb hours, she tested it.
First, she thought about them—concentrated hard on ENHYPEN’s voices, their laughter, their faces. She clenched her fists and whispered their names like spells.
Nothing.
But the third night, as she scrolled through a clip of their concert behind the scenes, she whispered, “I want to be there,” and—
Snap.
She landed in a dark corner of a hallway.
Far away, she heard music. Fans. Shouts.
And ENHYPEN’s laughter.
YN’s POV
I’m not crazy.
I’m not asleep.
I’m teleporting. To them.
Only them.
Was it fate? Magic? Insanity?
I didn’t care.
Because when I was near them, even if I was hiding behind equipment or crouching behind furniture, I didn’t feel worthless.
I felt alive.
Even if just for a little while.
Third Person
She didn’t approach them.
Not yet.
She watched from the shadows as they joked, practiced, and rested. Her favorite moments were the quiet ones—the way Jungwon would sigh when he thought no one was watching, or how Ni-ki danced even off-camera, like music lived in his bones.
And when Sunoo laughed?
She smiled.
Not because she was happy.
But because it reminded her what happy sounded like.
Final Scene – Back in her room
That night, after teleporting back, YN stared at her reflection in the mirror.
There was a faint streak of red under her nose.
She wiped it away with the back of her hand and laughed, a sound so hollow it could echo.
“Just a little side effect,” she said to herself. “No big deal.”
She didn’t notice how pale she looked.
Or how her fingertips trembled.
But she did notice one thing:
For the first time in years, she felt something other than pain.
It was dangerous.
But it was the only thing keeping her alive.