Chapter Text
It started with an email.
Subject line: “Content Brainstorm Meeting: Bring Your Wildest Ideas”
From: Bang Chan (yes, that Bang Chan)
Your fingers had hovered over the keyboard for a full five minutes before you even opened it. Even now—three months into your job as a Social Media Assistant on the Global PR team—you couldn’t believe you worked here. At JYP. For Stray Kids.
You took a deep breath and started typing.
“A music trivia challenge between staff members. See who knows Stray Kids’ discography best. Loser buys snacks for the dorm.”
You hesitated. Then added:
“I think fans would love seeing how well (or badly) the people behind the scenes know the group.”
Then you hit send.
And immediately regretted it.
—
Two days later, you were seated in a video studio with camera lights pointed at your face, heart in your throat, trying not to look like you were going to vomit.
“This is gonna be fun,” Chan said, adjusting his mic beside the camera. “Y/N, you ready?”
You offered a weak thumbs-up and tried not to die on the spot. Your eyes flicked to the man beside you—Manager Minwoo. Legend. Veteran. A man who had personally escorted the boys to nearly every concert and schedule since 2018. He looked relaxed, borderline amused, one arm draped over the back of the couch.
Everyone was betting on him to win.
Nobody expected much from the new girl who mostly tweeted in English and posted fancams at 3am KST.
Which was exactly what you were counting on.
—
“Today’s video is a little different,” Chan announced cheerily, clapping once as the cameras rolled. “We’re doing a challenge to see who knows Stray Kids’ songs better—our long-time manager… or our new PR assistant.”
Cue dramatic music and a pan to the two of you.
Manager Minwoo gave a polite wave.
You smiled and nodded, trying not to sweat through your shirt.
—
The rules were simple:
🎧 A short clip of a song plays through the headphones.
🎤 First person to buzz in and correctly name the song title and the member singing or rapping gets a point.
🎁 First to 20 points wins a fully paid ride on the upcoming tour: flights, hotel, food, the lot.
😬 The loser? Eternal shame. And maybe lunch duty.
The boys were already hooting from the sidelines.
“I’m nervous for you,” Seungmin whispered to Minwoo.
“Me too,” Minwoo admitted with a laugh. “I’ve heard these songs hundreds of times at soundchecks, but I’ve never had to name them.”
Chan looked at you. “How about you, Y/N?”
You gave a small smile. “I have… a few hours of practice under my belt.”
Han snorted. “That’s an understatement. I saw her mouthing Topline yesterday while changing our YouTube thumbnails.”
“She hums Side Effects while writing tweets,” Felix added, grinning.
You shrugged. “Guilty.”
Minwoo laughed. “Okay, maybe I should be worried.”
—
🎵 Round One.
The first audio clip blasted in your headphones: “doo-doo-doo-doo—like a thunder!”
Manager Minwoo smacked his buzzer first. “Thunderous!” he said triumphantly. “Hyunjin.”
You leaned forward, calm.
“Victory Song,” you corrected. “That’s Han’s pre-chorus.”
The studio fell dead silent for a second before—
“OOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
The boys screamed in delight.
“She just obliterated you!” Han cackled.
Hyunjin clutched his heart. “I wasn’t even sure myself.”
You glanced at the camera and bit back a grin. One point to you.
—
By Round Five, it wasn’t even a contest anymore.
“Chronosaurus. Bang Chan.”
“One Day. Seungmin.”
“Boxer—Felix, deep voice line.”
“Easy. 3RACHA demo version.”
Each time, you buzzed in before Minwoo could even move. Your face didn’t change, voice cool, but your hands were shaking slightly beneath the table. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were actually doing it.
The song clips got shorter. More distorted. Someone tried to throw you with a Japanese B-side.
“SLUMP. Japanese version. Changbin’s rap.”
“HOW,” I.N whispered from the side, “did she get that in 0.5 seconds?”
“She’s possessed,” Hyunjin muttered.
Seungmin leaned into camera view. “This is no longer a friendly game. This is a bloodbath.”
—
🎵 Final Score:
Y/N — 17
Manager Minwoo — 3
Minwoo threw up his hands in defeat, laughing. “Okay, okay! I concede!”
You flushed and bowed slightly, trying to hide your grin.
“You crushed it,” Chan said, coming over and giving you a side hug. “I’m honestly impressed.”
“Same,” Han added, wide-eyed. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
“It’s almost scary,” Seungmin murmured. “She’s the real main dancer now.”
Laughter rippled across the studio.
A staff member handed you a glittery pink trophy—actually just a SKZ lightstick taped to a boarding pass envelope. It didn’t matter. It felt like winning the Olympics.
“Any words for the fans?” a cameraman asked as he zoomed in.
You blinked. Then smiled, shy but proud.
“…Never underestimate the PR girl in the corner,” you said softly. “She might just know every one of your songs by heart.”