Chapter Text
The practice room smelled like lemon cleaner and sweat, a combination Megan had learned to accept as part of her new normal. Music still echoed faintly through the speaker, but not a single one of them was dancing or singing.
“Again?” Lara asked, flopping dramatically onto the ground. She pulled the hem of her shirt over her face and muffled her groan into the fabric. “If I hear that chorus one more time, I’m combusting.”
“Combusting is not a real word,” Manon deadpanned, sipping from her water bottle. She sat primly against the mirror, legs folded neatly.
“Yes, it is.” Lara peeked out from her shirt. “Like… boom. Fire. Dead. Combusting.”
“That’s exploding,” Daniela corrected, crouching to stretch out her calves. “Combusting is… like, science stuff.”
Sophia snorted from where she stood near the speaker. “Lara, I’m pretty sure you just made it up because it sounds dramatic.”
“It is dramatic!” Lara insisted, which made Yoonchae giggle.
Megan, meanwhile, lay flat on the cool wooden floor, arms outstretched like a starfish, sweat dripping down her temples. She didn’t even bother lifting her head at her groupmates' conversation.
She took a breath before speaking, “I vote we never dance again,” she declared. “Ever. Let’s just sing ballads sitting down from now on.”
Daniela tossed her empty water bottle at her stomach with a small thud. “Get up, Meg. We’ve only done three run-throughs.”
“Three too many,” Megan shot back, though she cracked a grin.
Sophia crouched down beside her, brushing stray bangs off Megan’s damp forehead before Megan could react. “You’re impossible,” she murmured.
The gesture was quick, fleeting. But it stuck. It had Megan feeling static buzzing in her chest.
Sophia’s hand withdrew just as fast, but the faint warmth lingered after she pulled away.
Megan swallowed hard and forced herself upright, cheeks burning more than her muscles.
“Are we done for today?” Yoonchae asked timidly, hugging her knees to her chest. She was the youngest, but her stamina was no joke; if even she looked tired, it meant they’d all been pushed.
Manon gave her a pointed look. “That depends. Did you all actually listen when the choreographer said we need sharper lines?”
Daniela groaned. “Ugh, don’t start, Manon. My calves are screaming. I’m pretty sure one of them tried to file a lawsuit against me mid-chorus.”
That drew laughter, even from Sophia. The sound was light, easy, and it pulled Megan’s eyes before she could stop herself. Megan was captivated, staring almost in awe at the Filipina.
Sophia’s ponytail was coming undone, strands plastered to her cheeks, which were flushed pink from practice. She looked tired, yes, but still so alive, so certain, like she belonged under the harsh fluorescent lights, as if she could make any space feel like a stage.
And Megan hated how her chest ached just looking at her.
“Okay, okay,” Lara said, rolling onto her back and flinging an arm over her eyes. “I say we make a deal. One more run-through, then boba tea. Non-negotiable.”
“That’s your negotiation?” Daniela questioned.
“Boba tea is always the negotiation,” Lara said firmly.
Yoonchae perked up at that. “Can we get the brown sugar one?”
“Only if Sophia pays,” Manon muttered.
“Why me?” Sophia asked, eyebrows shooting up.
“Because you’re the leader, supposedly also the responsible one,” Manon replied, perfectly calm, with a hint of tease.
Sophia opened her mouth to argue, but laughed instead, shaking her head. “Fine. But if I’m paying, I get to choose the place.”
The group cheered at the compromise, voices bouncing against the mirrored walls.
Megan tried to laugh with them, but her focus stayed tethered to Sophia’s side profile, to the way her dimples flashed when she smiled. She pressed her palms against the floor, grounding herself in the cool wood.
Don’t stare. Don’t let it show.
“You alive yet, starfish?” Sophia teased, leaning slightly toward her.
Megan huffed out a laugh, trying to sound casual. “Barely. Might need someone to carry me out of here.”
She joked to her friends, but she seriously felt like her muscles would betray her if she even thought about sitting up, let alone standing up right now.
“Not it,” Lara called immediately.
“Not it,” Daniela echoed.
“Definitely not it,” Manon added without even glancing up from tying her shoelaces. “I love you, Megan, but my arms are so dead right now.
Megan huffed a small laugh
“I can do it!” Yoonchae piped up, bouncing a little in her spot. “I’m strong!”
That got everyone laughing again, Sophia included. She glanced back at Megan, eyes shining with quiet amusement, and for a second, it felt like the world narrowed to just the two of them.
Megan’s pulse jumped, and she looked away.
The speaker still hummed faintly, the silence between tracks louder than the music itself. The girls began gathering their bags, pulling hoodies over their sweat-soaked shirts. The afternoon was waiting outside the glass doors, the city flickering in the distance.
But Megan lingered. She felt like something unspoken had been left behind in the room, hidden somewhere between Sophia’s touch and her laugh.
And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find it or run from it.
The city was alive around them. Neon storefronts humming, sidewalks crowded, the sweet smell of fried food spilling from street carts.
Lara and Daniela were up ahead, laughing too loudly, their argument about choreography still raging. Manon trailed just behind them, tossing dry comments that only fueled the fire, while Yoonchae bounced between sides, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Megan hung back, her taro tea cool in her hand, each sip slow. Beside her, Sophia matched her pace without saying much.
It wasn’t awkward. Just… quiet.
“You really inhale taro like it’s the elixir of life,” Sophia finally said, a smile tugging at her lips.
Megan shrugged, pretending to play it cool. “That’s because it is the elixir of life. You just don’t get it.”
Sophia’s laugh was soft, tucked under the noise of traffic. Megan felt it settle in her chest, warm and steady. For a few steps, their arms brushed, once, then again. Neither pulled away, but Megan’s heart raced anyway.
Up ahead, Daniela squealed at something Lara said, the sound sharp enough to draw stares from strangers. Sophia shook her head, amused, but didn’t take her eyes off Megan for long.
“Do you ever feel like…” Sophia started, then hesitated, straw turning in her cup. “Like nights like this don’t happen often enough?”
Megan blinked, caught off guard. “You mean us going out together?”
“Yeah.” Sophia’s gaze lingered briefly, then slipped forward to the others. “It’s easy to forget we can just… exist. Not idols, not rehearsals. Just girls with boba tea.”
Megan’s throat tightened. She wanted to say I like it too. I like it because you’re here. Instead, she nodded, “Yeah. Feels… normal.”
Sophia smiled faintly, like that answer was enough.
Their steps fell in rhythm again. For a moment, it almost felt like the world shrank to just the two of them, the neon light reflecting in Sophia’s eyes.
Then Lara turned around, waving dramatically. “Oi! Lovebirds in the back, quit dragging your feet!”
Megan nearly choked on her drink. “What!?” she snapped, too quick, too defensive.
Daniela cackled. Yoonchae giggled. Manon muttered something in German that sounded dangerously like idiots.
Sophia only laughed, shaking her head as if Lara’s jab meant nothing. But when her sleeve brushed Megan’s again, she didn’t move away.
And Megan… didn’t either.
Their living room was a patchwork of blankets, snack bowls, and tangled phone chargers. The giant TV glowed on the wall, stuck on the streaming menu while the six of them argued over what to watch.
“Rom-com!” Lara shouted from the floor, already hugging a pillow like she was starring in one.
“No,” Manon deadpanned instantly. “I refuse to sit through two hours of people tripping into each other and calling it destiny.”
Daniela tossed a piece of popcorn at her. “That’s the point! It’s cheesy and fun.”
“Cheesy and brain-rotting,” Manon corrected, dodging the second piece Daniela threw at her.
Yoonchae clapped her hands. “Scary movie! Please? I promise I won’t scream this time.”
“You screamed last time because I scared you at a suspenseful moment,” Lara reminded her, earning a round of laughter.
Yoonchae, trying to think of what to say, finally muttered, “Yeah, but you won’t do it again because I will be watching you right next to me.”
Sophia, curled into the corner of the couch, lifting her cup of tea, “What about a musical? Everyone sings anyway, might as well sing along.”
A chorus of groans erupted.
“Not after hours of practice,” Megan muttered, sinking deeper into the other end of the couch. Her body ached too much to even think about choreography, even if it was fictional.
After fifteen minutes of bickering, they landed on a compromise: some fluffy ensemble comedy nobody had to think too hard about. The kind with ridiculous plots, easy laughs, and no emotional commitment.
By the time the opening credits rolled, the lights were dimmed, Lara and Yoonchae were tangled in a blanket heap on the rug, Manon was stretched like a cat on the recliner, and Daniela sat cross-legged with her snack bowl balanced dangerously on her knee.
Megan had just started to relax into the couch when Sophia shifted. Not away, but closer. At first, it was just her shoulder brushing Megan’s. Then her knee. Then, somehow, Sophia’s thigh pressed lightly against hers, their arms grazing every time one of them moved.
Megan froze. Not visibly, at least she hoped not. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen, but her mind was anything but calm.
Why was Sophia so close? The entire couch stretched open, plenty of space. Yet here she was, practically molding herself into Megan’s side, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Sophia leaned a little, just enough that her hair tickled Megan’s arm. “It's almost like you wouldn’t think they ragebait each other,” she whispered, nodding toward Lara and Yoonchae’s giggles.
Megan’s voice caught in her throat. “Uh, yeah, totally right?”
It’s Fine. Everything was fine. Except her pulse was hammering, and every inch of her skin where Sophia touched felt like it was lit up.
Nobody else seemed to notice. Daniela was heckling the movie, and Manon was sighing dramatically every five minutes. Lara and Yoonchae were in their own world.
Megan sat there, trying not to tense, trying not to lean back into Sophia even though that’s exactly what her body wanted. She told herself she didn’t like this. Except, she did. Too much.
And Sophia? She just smiled faintly at the screen, sipping her tea, looking perfectly content where she was.
Megan had no idea if this was friendship, closeness, or something else entirely.
But she knew one thing:
lines like this, lines you weren’t supposed to cross, Sophia blurred them so easily that Megan couldn’t remember where they started anymore.