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Youngjae had never liked odd numbers.
When Youngjae was a toddler, he'd had a set of seven toy soldier figurines that he loved, and it bothered him that he could never put them in pairs without one being left out in the end. Every soldier had a partner to guard their back on his make-believe battlefields, except one, and small Youngjae had been childishly distressed over the fact. He'd learned later on that there was a phrase for that: the third wheel.
And if being a third wheel was bad, then being a seventh wheel was a hundred times worse.
~~~
"Choi Youngjae! Just the man I was looking for. Come along, now, I told you about this last week, didn't I? They're all waiting for you," JYP bustles Youngjae out of the practice room and along the corridor outside, leaving the trainees inside glancing enviously at their disappearing backs. JYP intimidated Youngjae, mostly; the man was all hearty laughs and easy-going smiles, but he was downright frightening when he was angry. Not to mention that he constantly held the aura of an untouchable music legend and businessman. It made him nervous, being pushed into a different practice room by his boss and presented to six sets of curious, surprised gazes. This was it, Youngjae thought, lightheaded in the face of their scrutiny and JYP's excited introduction. This was his new team, and they were going to hate him.
"Alright boys, remember, 7 months to debut! Take care of Youngjae here, you're going to work together for a long time," JYP saluted them jovially and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Youngjae blanched. 7 months to learn how to seem like the best of friends with six people he'd never met before in his life, 7 months to learn how to laugh at their jokes at just the right moments and learn how much ribbing was allowed without going too far. Youngjae's gaze was apologetic as he glanced curiously at each member in turn.
He learned their names eventually. The leader, Im Jaebum, all sharp eyes and high cheekbones, wasn't as intimidating as he had seemed at first sight. He was always with Park Jinyoung, (or Junior, because he had the same name as JYP. Youngjae had been fairly amused when he found out) a boy whose eyes wrinkled and cheeks dimpled when he smiled. He had a habit of nagging and fussing over the members, and Youngjae always found it incredibly strange to feel like he had been babied by someone who looked like he should be the lead in a action-romance drama. Mark Tuan was quiet, speaking up only when spoken to. Youngjae learned that his hometown is Los Angeles and that he's Taiwanese, which was why he always replied in unsure, stilted Korean. He seemed to be with Jackson Wang a lot, a Chinese member from Hong Kong with wide eyes and wide smiles and limitless energy, always making everyone laugh with his antics. They made an odd pair, but Youngjae could see how they worked, where Mark's soft edges bled into Jackson's sharp ones, and how Jackson's enthusiasm filled in for Mark's silence.
Bambam (or Kunpimook Bhuwakhul, as he had proudly announced, then pretended to take offense when Youngjae couldn't pronounce his name right) was from Thailand, and looked entirely way too young to be a prospective teen idol. His cheeks were still round with baby fat, his voice high and shrill with no sign of breaking. With Bambam came Yugyeom, the maknae, who didn't seem like one at all. He was quiet and a little stand-offish, unlike the normally bright, noisy youngest members Youngjae saw on TV. If he hadn't known, really, Youngjae would have thought Bambam was the youngest.
And their latest addition: Choi Youngjae, third youngest, main vocal.
~~~
Surprisingly, Youngjae ended up rooming with Jaebum, who didn't mind sharing a space and even a bed. He'd expected himself to wind up in a room alone, or maybe sleep on the couch; they had all seemed so content in their pairs, Youngjae hadn't wanted to ruin that.
Living with Jaebum was...unfamiliar. He wasn't sure what to make of the leader, reserved and serious but always up for a joke. He was more personable than he'd seemed at their first meeting, and Youngjae discovered his cold, slanted eyes could upturn into happy crescents. His smile was calming, to say the least, and Youngjae was grateful that rooming with Jaebum wasn't going to be as awkward as he had expected (besides, Jaebum spent a lot of time in Jinyoung's room anyway; Youngjae suspected something was going on between them but he didn't want to pry).
Youngjae unzipped the small luggage he'd brought with him from Mokpo, and surveyed the room. It was neat and tidy, trinkets on the bedside table, clothes folded and orderly in his wardrobe and, strangely enough, a collection of The Simpsons figurines on the top shelf of the bookcase (he found out later that Jaebum was immensely fond of the little yellow dolls and choked down a laugh when he saw him bid each one of them good night before bed). The place felt like someone had tried their best to make a home out of it, but hadn't really succeeded in doing so. Well, Youngjae thought idly, that applied to every one of them in the dormitory anyway.
He was pretty sure Jaebum was choosing to room with him out of some weird sacrificial sense of responsibility as leader; he could have easily roomed with Jinyoung, they'd seemed close. But he appreciated the effort, and if he had to live with awkward smiles and disjointed greetings for while, so be it.
~~~
Vocal lessons were hard, but Youngjae enjoyed them and was good at them, so that was a plus (besides, he didn't go to vocal school for years for nothing). Dance practices, on the other hand, were a pain in the ass. There was no way he could possibly keep up with six other members who had trained at this for at least 3 years; not for the first time, Youngjae felt guilty about his latecoming to the band, and wondered if the others really hated him, deep down. It just wasn't fair, that he'd be allowed to debut after just 8 months total of training, when the others had been here for 3, 4 years, wishing and hoping and desperate to debut.
He stretched out his cramped legs in a 5 minute gap between practices and watched Jinyoung dance a little in front of the mirror, fluid and smooth, unlike his own awkward, robotic moves. He suddenly felt woefully inadequate, and cast his eyes round at the other members, thinking of the way Yugyeom had sighed impatiently when he tripped over his own feet dancing, how Jackson called out for him not to mind it and carry on, how Jaebum had to help him perfect his moves each time. It was the truth, Youngjae thought, that he wasn't fit to be here, was never meant to be here, among trained dancers and singers who had bet their entire lives on their debut. Sure, Youngjae had went to a music school and devoted himself to the life of a performer, but he could have done other things, things less flashy, less bright than what he was trying to create here with six other people he'd never met before. That brightness, that spotlight, belonged to them, not to Youngjae, never to Youngjae.
Yugyeom, for example. Yugyeom was only fourteen, and he'd been here for, what, three years? Youngjae couldn't imagine how many nights he'd spent in this very dance studio instead of watching shitty nighttime television with his family, instead of pleading with his mother for snacks, instead of asking his father for piggyback rides. And he had an older brother, didn't he? Youngjae thought suddenly of his own older brother and sister, of holding onto both of their hands and skipping along between them, of arguing over the remote control and the computer and everything they could get their hands on; Yugyeom had given up all of that to chase some far-off dream most people scoffed at. His heart sank, and he understood Yugyeom's glares whenever he messed up or fell out of formation. He'd given up his childhood to stand here, and he didn't deserve some lousy bandmate who could barely keep up and kept tripping over his shoelaces. And he was only fourteen, after all, young and immature and gone through more hardship than most kids his age.
And what about Jaebum and Jinyoung? They'd been out there before, Youngjae knew, under the glare of spotlights and fame, and they hadn't made it. And now they were back at square one, stuck with some incompetent teammate, training and praying for debut like rookies, as if they'd never been idol had-beens. Jinyoung was unbearably kind, reminding Youngjae to eat and sleep and correcting his dance steps in the most gentle way possible. He filled up the absence of a mother figure in their hearts in a strange way, letting Bambam kiss him on the cheek and ruffling Youngjae's hair affectionately every chance he got. And if Jinyoung was their mother figure, then Jaebum was the father, gruff in his love but equally as caring. Youngjae found it in the fresh towel left for him after Jaebum's shower, in the inconspicuously folded bedsheets in the morning, in the thoughtfully cleared space in their shared wardrobe for when he first moved in. GOT7 would never have worked without Jinyoung and Jaebum, he knew. They were indispensable. He wasn't.
He thought about Bambam and Jackson and Mark, running after fleeting dreams in a foreign land, hopelessly lost in a place that didn't belong to them. He thought of Jackson's phone calls in rapid-fire Mandarin and Bambam's in Thai, just the slightest bit tearful and nostalgic when their parents wished them well and cheered them on over the line. Mark was more quiet about his family, but sometimes Youngjae caught him smiling down at his phone and he felt an inexplicable tightness in his chest.
There were already six of them, weren't there? Youngjae wasn't necessary here. He'd never liked odd numbers anyway, like the single soldier figurine that always got left alone when he used to pair up his toys in his younger days. He took a long drink of his water bottle and breathed out deeply.
Jaebum was calling everyone together for practice again. Regardless of what Youngjae felt, he was here now, and he wasn't leaving GOT7 unless JYP had something to say about it. He'd come this far, and he wasn't about to give all of it up, even if it was selfish.
He got up and took his place in their dance formation.
~~~
"Youngjae!" It was Jackson, bounding over with all the enthusiasm of a young puppy, a Korean textbook in one hand and dragging a confused Bambam with the other. Youngjae watched him come closer, slightly frightened by his eagerness. Jackson and Bambam plopped down next to him on the sofa, one on either side of him. "Teach me Korean, Youngjae! Jinyoung, Jaebum and Yugyeom are assholes," he sniffed, flipping open the textbook and pointing to a line of complicated-looking Hangul. Bambam huffed in agreement and settled himself like a cat into Youngjae's side, personal space be damned.
"Oh, well, this says..."
The rest of the evening spiralled down into quiet chatters laced with giggles when Bambam pronounces the word "clothes" the wrong way and ends up saying "I wear bookshelves." Youngjae laughed, unrestrained and bright, and Jackson and Bambam both seemed to pause and stare at him.
"What?" Youngjae asked, chuckles slowly bubbling away into unsurety, nervous under their scrutiny.
"Nothing," Jackson said. "I just feel like that was the first time I've heard you laugh like that."
~~~~
After that, Youngjae started to find Jackson's loud hyena-esque laughter endearing instead of overwhelming and laughed harder at Bambam's strange jokes. It didn't mean he felt any more like a real part of the group, but it was a start. Jaebum had been more than accommodating as well, setting later alarms for Youngjae after realising there was no possible way to wake him up in the morning before eight. And when he finally stumbled out groggily into the kitchen, Jinyoung always calmly pushed a cup of coffee towards him along with a box of cereal. Mark was still reserved but approachable. Yugyeom seemed grudgingly accepting of his presence and frankly, Youngjae was afraid to touch what seemed to be a sore spot for him. All in due time, he reasoned silently to himself, you've only been here two months.
They were scheduled for a vocal lesson later on the afternoon. Youngjae would usually be excited for it, but today just wasn't his day. He'd woken up feeling like he hadn't slept at all and his arms and legs were sore from dance practice. When he stopped to look in the mirror before they left for the lesson, there were dark, swollen circles under his eyes.
Long story short, he didn't fare well in the vocal lesson; his voice just didn't come out as smooth as it usually did and he messed up an adlib he could usually pull off perfectly while practising alone. JYP, listening in on the lesson, had gotten annoyed at his incompetency and left Youngjae with a few choice words that made him feel even worse than he already did. He wasn't the only one -- Jaebum seemed to be having problems with his voice too, and bowed his head quietly as JYP went into a tirade about their debut and how they weren't prepared enough for it.
Youngjae sat through it all feeling horrible and inadequate and sad, and when JYP finally let them go, he scrambled out of the room as quickly as he could to breathe.
It was him; the weakest link, the chink in their armour, the imperfection in an otherwise flawless star-studded boyband. He wasn't good-looking like the others, or as charismatic, couldn't dance as well, didn't have enough experience. He felt sick suddenly, and wished he'd never left the safety of his hometown for this one minute of fame.
"It was Youngjae's fault, you can't tell me it wasn't." Youngjae froze, pressing himself as close to the wall as possible as Yugyeom's voice floated down the corridor in a mutter.
"You can't say that, he's our main vocal." It was Bambam.
"But he's going to debut in 7 months and we've been here for 3 years and he doesn't even do much for-"
The rest of Yugyeom's sentence trailed off into a muffled grunt as Bambam slapped his hand over his mouth. Youngjae held his breath.
"Don't say that! Youngjae-hyung is a nice person, and you can't deny his vocal skill. I'm not going to let you badmouth him like this. Sure, he doesn't dance that well, but he can improve."
Yugyeom made a noise of protest but doesn't continue, falling silent. Two pairs of footsteps fade away from the hallway in unsynchronised rhythm, and Youngjae let himself slide down the wall to softly hit the ground.
Yugyeom hated him. He should have known honestly, the way he'd give monosyllabic answers whenever Youngjae tried to make small talk, how he'd never looked Youngjae straight in the eye, the way he sighed and glanced away when Youngjae did a dance move wrong.
Right, right. He could live with that, he guesses. Sling his arm around Yugyeom in front of cameras and fans and completely ignore him back in their dorm, because god knows the friendships and camaraderie between band members were always fabricated to please the fans anyway. He'd just be another addition to that lie. It wasn't like either him or Yugyeom could help it. Yugyeom had reason to hate him.
He'd stay out of Yugyeom's way then. Try his best at dance, sing with all his heart. Maybe in time, Yugyeom would at least tolerate his presence in the group and they'd be able to live with some sort of neutrality. Maybe.
~~~~~~~
He was dead wrong.
"For God's sake! How many times have you been wrong already? Do you even try? We've been practising for ages!"
Youngjae met Yugyeom's irritated gaze meekly. They were in the dance studio, the seven of them, rehearsing their debut choreography. They had had busy schedules the whole day, and Jaebum had declared it the last practice before they finally got to rest. And in a room full of sleep-deprived, on-edge teenage boys forced to keep their drooping eyelids open, someone was likely to snap.
"Yugyeom!" Jaebum's voice was loud and sharp and final, a warning. Yugyeom turns to him, unfazed.
"It was going so well, hyung, we were doing so well, and then he messed up and-- god, WE were doing so well before he joined this goddamn group!"
Silence.
"You don't speak that way to anyone here, Yugyeom. I swear--"
"It's true! It's true, isn't it? You're the leader, hyung, surely you've taken the worst hit out of all of us. And you've debuted before too, you--"
"That's enough, Yugyeom."
Youngjae observed their exchange with abject horror, heart like a stone thrown into water, sinking deeper and deeper with the burden of its own weight. It was his fault, his fault, his fault--
"I'm calling it a day, guys. We're all too tired for this. Go to sleep as soon as possible alright?" Jaebum rubbed a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. Beside him, Yugyeom stared fixatedly at the floor. A soft murmur fell over the members as they hesitantly file out of the dance studio, unsure how to react to what had just transpired. Youngjae trailed behind them, guilt dragging his feet as if chained to them like a ball.
~~~~~
He took his time in the bathroom on purpose, and didn't speak to Jaebum as he climbed into bed. He didn't know how to. He'd been avoiding him since Yugyeom's tantrum, because he knew there was truth in his words. As the leader, Jaebum probably hated him the most, for adding on to his already impressive load of responsibilities. It would be better for Youngjae to just stay out of his way.
He lay down on the bed and turned onto his side, away from Jaebum, listening to the noises outside their window. Youngjae wasn't used to Seoul, with its bright lights and noisy traffic and people that never seemed to sleep. It scared him, just a little, how everyone here never seemed to stop, always working or talking on the phone and rushing after trains. Passers-by didn't smile at him here, didn't offer cheery "good morning"s or polite "how are you?"s. He couldn't see the stars at night here.
He missed Mokpo, missed dozing off to gentle rolling waves instead of honking cars. He missed leaving his house to salty sea breezes and the squawking of seagulls, missed dipping his toes in the cold ocean and wondering what lay beyond the wide turquoise expanse of nothing. Maybe that was what had brought him here, that wondering and longing of more, of further reaches and higher places. His sister had always said he was a daydreamer.
And he missed her too, his family, his friends that he had left back in a little seaside town for loud neon signs and busy streets, shots in the dark and foolish dreams. He'd only been sixteen, young and stupid as he packed his bags for Seoul, and his sister hadn't wanted him to go. "It'll be okay, noona," he'd laughed, shaking off the worried hand she had placed on his shoulder. "Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime! I'll be alright."
And he'd left her behind, her and his parents who'd never liked the idea of him singing and doing music. He'd thought he was following his dreams and achieving his aspirations and all that inspirational crap movies and books fed people, but he wasn't so sure any more.
Because lying in the dark next to Jaebum after a long grueling dance practice where he'd fallen and stepped the wrong way and broke the formation wasn't what he'd dreamed of. Listening to the noise pollution of the city and being homesick wasn't what he'd dreamed of. Feeling out of place, feeling like a burden to the group, wasn't what he'd dreamed of.
"Hey, Jaebum-hyung. Are you asleep?"
"...no."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Where are you from, hyung?"
"Goyang."
"Do you miss it?"
There was a moment of silence. Downstairs, people shouted and cars beeped angrily. Some kind of light flashed into their room from the window.
"Yeah."
"...do you regret it? Coming here, I mean."
"Honestly? Sometimes."
Youngjae's tongue felt heavier in his mouth. There was a pause, weighed with anticipation, like after a heart beats its last and before the monitor draws a straight line through the screen.
"Listen, Youngjae. I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. Things are hard for me as leader, but I don't hold unfounded grudges. You work hard, Youngjae, it's not your fault you have to debut so soon. Yugyeom's young, and today was a hard day for all of us. He doesn't know what he's saying. Don't take his words to heart, okay?"
Youngjae opened his mouth to respond, but then let his voice die in his throat. He nodded, and pulled the blanket more firmly around himself.
"I'm glad you're on our team, Youngjae. Get some sleep."
They fell silent. The night dragged on outside.
~~~~~
Youngjae's alarm vibrated angrily from under his pillow at 4am like it'd been doing for the past few months. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and quietly, stiffly slipped a hand under his pillow to turn it off, then started scooting carefully towards the edge of the bed. As he hopped off the end, Youngjae made sure Jaebum was still sound asleep, then quickly pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants before stealing out of their room and towards the dance studio.
He switched on the bright fluorescent lights to an empty room. He was alone here, with no one to judge his skewed dance steps and no one he could anger with his inadequacy.
He turned on the music, and faced himself in the mirror. Step, step, twirl fingers, point to the back with his thumbs twice. Dance break, repeat. He didn't have a big part here-- fortunately, he thinks-- even though he's the main vocal. He still had the least experience of all of them, even if JYP himself had verified his vocal skills above the others. Well, he hadn't gone to vocal school for nothing.
He went through the dance routine meticulously until he lost count of the number of times he had repeated it. About 2 and a half hours later, he sprawled on the ground, sweaty and panting, allowing himself a little break as his joints complained.
His heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, instead of seven.
Youngjae allowed himself a small, grim smile, then got to his feet for another round of practice-- but his phone rang then, unapologetically loud and obtrusive from the corner of the room. He startled, and retrieved it; it was his sister. They hadn't spoken to each other for a month, and Youngjae felt a little bit guilty, so he picked up the call and brought the phone to his ear.
"Youngjae-ah! Yah, I told you to call me more often, you brat!" His sister's voice hurt his eardrums, but Youngjae's lips quirked up a little, and he set the phone on speaker to hear her better. No one else was in the studio, anyway.
"Ahh sorry, noona, I've been busy--"
"That's what they all say! Next thing you know you'll forget to call for years and stop thinking of your poor older sister at all! I specially called in the morning so you wouldn't be busy!"
Youngjae let his sister nag and fuss over him, answering that yes, he's been eating well, no, he's not being starved by his company, and how has she been? He asked about their parents and learned that his niece had spoken her first word. As they talked, he felt his exhaustion and pent-up worry slowly seep out of him and melt into the surrounding air as if they'd never been. He'd missed his sister and his family, he really had.
"Youngjae-ah." The question came during a lull in their conversation, his sister's voice quiet and cautious and robotic-sounding in the receiver. Youngjae was reminded of the distance between them in the crackle of static when she spoke.
"Tell me honestly; how are you? This entire singer thing hasn't been easy for you. I mean, I still remember you working three jobs all at once to pay for vocal lessons because our parents didn't support you. I know you're serious, of course, and you've gotten so far but... I just worry, you know, you always overwork yourself. If it doesn't work out--"
"It will. I mean, it has to. I have to make it. I can't quit now that I'm in JYP and about to debut. Everything's going well. Alright? I'm sorry to make you worry."
"Nonsense! Of course I worry about my baby brother. It was just yesterday you kissed me on the cheek as a toddler and now you're in Seoul working! Call me next time, Youngjae-yah, I have to go for work soon. Take care of yourself, yeah?"
"Sure. Bye, noona, have a good day."
Youngjae hung up the call and lay down on the ground.
He'd lied. Things weren't going well. He didn't fit with the group, and the fans were going to hate him.
The air-conditioner whirled steadily and faithfully from the ceiling. The clock ticked. No matter what Youngjae wanted, time would go on, and force him along in its mad rush towards some invisible end.
One month left.
Youngjae sat up, about to turn on the music again and get in some more practice before the others arrived, but froze as he caught sight of Yugyeom in the doorway. Yugyeom looked like he'd been caught in a spotlight by accident, eyes wide, mouth opened in an 'O'.
"H-hey hyung. What are you doing here so early?" He flailed for a bit and attempted a small wave. Youngjae continued staring at him, unmoved. Yugyeom sighed.
"Right, right. Sorry. I've been here a while actually. I-I heard you on the phone." Yugyeom winced and watched Youngjae's face carefully for any reaction. "I just-- wanted to say sorry. For yesterday. For a lot of things, actually. I've been an asshole to you from the start. Um. Can I sit down?"
Youngjae nodded dumbly and Yugyeom settled himself next to Youngjae, keeping a respectable distance the exact size of the misunderstandings between them.
"I heard some of what you said to--your sister, right? I didn't even know you had a sister. I don't know a lot of things about you."
"I have a brother too. Older brother," Youngjae said suddenly.
"Right, yeah. See, I didn't know that either. I didn't know hard you had to work to get here, and I'm sorry for saying all those things yesterday. You're not a burden to us. We're better with you. I mean, I'm a vocalist now but I was a rapper before. Proves I can't sing, eh? Jaebum-hyung and Jinyoung-hyung can't hold up GOT7 on their own." Yugyeom fell quiet for a moment, thinking. "I guess I was just bitter. Training for years gets to you, you know? And every time my friends called me to hang out, I had to practise."
He had recited all of it in one breath, like a huge weight he'd been waiting to push off his chest. Youngjae listened-- carefully, calmly-- and waited to catch that weight. He was reminded, suddenly, that Yugyeom was only fourteen, a kid scared and afraid of the risky choices he'd made at a young age.
"I'm sorry, Youngjae-hyung. I'm so sorry," Yugyeom put his face in his hands, breaths turning to sobs, and Youngjae closed the distance between them-- the last of their differences breaking down and away-- and tucked his head under his chin. Yugyeom was taller than him, and he could just barely fit his messy curls under his head, but in the moment, he was smaller than Youngjae had ever seen him before.
~~~~~
They debut.
After they've racked up a sizeable amount of variety show appearances, interviews and V apps, the fans start calling Youngjae the sunshine of the group. The nickname comes as a surprise to Youngjae, who's never considered himself a particularly cheerful person. He brings it up thoughtfully over dinner one night and the members disagree. Jackson says "if Youngjae didn't laugh at almost anything, the fans wouldn't think I'm as funny as they do now."
"I'm glad Youngjae-hyung is with us," Yugyeom interjects quietly, shyly. Youngjae laughs; he feels like he might cry, otherwise. Jaebum catches Yugyeom in a headlock and ruffles his hair forcefully, deaf to his protests. Jinyoung ignores his cries for help and instead starts feeding Bambam vegetables that the Thai boy tries his best to reject. Jackson is talking Mark's ear off again while he makes noncommittal replies. Youngjae closes his eyes and enjoys the buzz of activity around him. Maybe one day he'd fit in enough to join their disjointed conversations, but for now he's content to--
"Youngjaeee! What's my favourite dongsaeng doing spacing out? Come on, talk to me; talking to Mark is like talking to a wall," Jackson slings his arm around Youngjae's shoulders and rubs his cheek against his hair fondly. Jackson's always been suffocating with his affection like that, but Youngjae doesn't mind.
"Hyung! I thought I was your favourite dongsaeng!" It was Bambam, pouting from Youngjae's other side. He narrows his eyes playfully at Youngjae and tackles him suddenly. "This means I have to get rid of Youngjae! Fight me, boy!" He yells the last part in English, and tries to tickle Youngjae.
"What if Yugyeom's my second-favourite?" Jackson shoots back as the table erupts into chaos and Bambam tries to grab Yugyeom's collar across the table. Youngjae, hands fisted in Bambam's hoodie to stop him from attacking Yugyeom, can't help the grin that spreads over his face.
~~~
The next time Youngjae calls his sister, it’s (regretfully) during a broadcast to the fans, and they’re playing a game of getting the caller to say a particular phrase through hints and nudges. Yugyeom’s beside him, listening intently to the call (and what a change, Youngjae thinks, from the wide berth he gave him for so long). His sister’s unaware, and when she asks after him, he tells her “I’m doing fine, noona” and means it. Gathered with the members in the living room, wrapped up warm and laughing and having fun with the fans, Youngjae’s doing better than fine.
(“You and your sister have the same laugh,” Yugyeom informs him after the episode, eyes still curved up in amused crescents. It only makes Youngjae laugh more.)