Work Text:
//
The studio smelled faintly of new paint and coffee—that specific mix that always meant “content day.” It had been a while since Katseye last filmed something like this, and the energy buzzing around the room was a mix of nostalgia and caffeine.
The set looked like a scrapbook exploded.
Walls lined with framed photos from debut, their first award show trophy propped proudly in the middle, shelves of their own merch arranged like museum pieces.
“A Journey with Katseye,” the banner read in soft pastels above them.
Yoonchae paused just inside the doorway, letting the sight sink in.
There was their old debut photo—awkward smiles, questionable outfits, matching sneakers. She felt a quiet ache bloom in her chest, the kind that came with remembering how far they’d come.
Megan brushed past her shoulder, pointing up at one of the pictures. “You remember that shoot? The one where we froze half to death?”
Yoonchae smiled, automatic. “You mean you froze half to death. I told you to bring a jacket.”
Megan laughed, the sound bright and easy, and Yoonchae’s heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did when Megan laughed without trying.
//
The staff gathered them in a semicircle soon after. Cameras being tested. Light stands adjusted. The director’s assistant clapped her hands for attention.
“Okay, girls! Today’s video is a little different,” she began, smiling like she was about to hand out homework. “Since this is part of the anniversary content, the theme is friendship. You’ll each draw a name from this box…” she held up a small pastel box with a cartoon cat stickered on top “and write a letter to that person. Something you appreciate about them, or a memory that stands out.”
Loud groans from the group. Cheers, too. Someone (probably Manon) joked about how they should’ve done a ‘roast each other’ theme instead.
“After that,” the staff continued, “we’ll read the letters on camera. But! You can’t tell anyone whose name you got. The person has to guess who wrote for them after reading it.”
The girls nodded, some excited, some already pretending to panic. Yoonchae could already imagine the chaos.
They formed a loose line to draw names. Megan was in front of her, bouncing slightly on her toes like she always did when she was excited.
Then it was her turn. She reached into the box, felt around the slips of paper, and pulled one.
The name written in neat marker: Megan
Yoonchae bit back a smile.
They dispersed around the set to write—corners of couches, the steps of the stage, even a merch display table that quickly became Sophia’s ‘desk.’
Yoonchae found a quiet spot at the far end, near a shelf full of Katseye plushies. The distance gave her some peace from the playful yelling already erupting across the room
“Don’t peek!”
“I saw that!”
“No you didn’t!”.
She tucked her legs under her and opened her notebook.
Dear Megan,
She wrote it automatically before pausing, pen hovering. It felt strange—writing a letter meant for the camera.
Usually, letters to Megan started with something softer. Something real. Hey, babe. Or sometimes just her name and a doodle of a heart if Yoonchae was too shy to write more.
But this one had to sound casual. Friendly.
She smiled to herself and started over.
Dear Megan
Her handwriting curved neatly across the page as she wrote about things that sounded safe on camera.
How Megan always made the group laugh, how her energy lifted everyone during long practices, how she admired her passion for performing.
All true. Just… edited.
Every now and then, she glanced up, catching bits of the others arguing or giggling as they wrote. A staff member kept reminding them not to cheat.
“Girls, don’t peek, please! It’s supposed to be a surprise!”
Yoonchae stifled a laugh.
She looked down at her page again, the ink smudging slightly under her wrist.
It was funny, she thought, how much effort it took to sound normal when writing to Megan.
Because the real words, the private ones came so easily in quiet moments between them.
When the cameras were gone. When it was just Yoonchae whispering things like “you worked so hard today” or “I missed you” against her shoulder.
But this? This was for the world.
She ended the letter with something light.
I hope you keep smiling like you always do.
A simple line. A safe one.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering if Megan would know. If she’d read between the lines, hear Yoonchae’s voice in the way the sentences curled.
Yoonchae capped her pen, smiling faintly.
“Let’s see if you can guess,” she murmured under her breath.
//
The camera crew was still setting up lights.
Megan, across the room, caught her eye and waved exaggeratedly with both hands. Yoonchae rolled her eyes but waved back, hiding her grin behind the paper.
And just like that—the day’s chaos was about to begin.
By the time everyone finished writing, the air smelled faintly of marker ink and nerves. A small pile of sealed envelopes sat neatly on the staff’s desk—pastel papers and glitter stickers included.
The staff collected them one by one, sticking name labels on top so no one could cheat. “Don’t worry, we won’t open them,” one joked, waving the stack like a deck of cards.
“Are you sure?” Daniela asked suspiciously. “I don’t trust you.”
Everyone laughed, the tension dissolving into easy chatter as they moved back toward the filming table.
The crew bustled around for the final touches—checking mics, adjusting lights, fluffing the backdrop lined with Katseye memorabilia. Posters, trophies and signed Polaroids.
It felt nostalgic already, even before the cameras rolled.
“Okay girls, we’re doing a friendship theme today,” the director reminded, flipping through his clipboard. “You’ve all written letters to the member whose name you drew earlier. Don’t reveal who you got yet—just wait until it’s your turn to read. And remember, sincerity but also energy, okay?”
“Energy!” Sophia echoed, raising her fist, earning a chorus of laughter.
Manon leaned back on the couch. “So basically… emotional chaos on camera.”
“Exactly,” Sophia grinned, popping a candy in her mouth.
The staff moved swiftly, collecting the sealed envelopes and labeling them neatly. On the table before them, six letters now lay in a perfect line—one for each member, their names written in soft pastel ink.
Yoonchae’s eyes flickered toward Megan for a moment—just a quick glance before she looked away again, fiddling with her ring.
The letter she’d written sat among the others, perfectly innocent-looking, yet her chest felt tight just thinking about it.
The director gave one last nod. “All right. Lights on. Cameras ready.”
The red light blinked to life.
“Let’s start with introductions!” Sophia chirped automatically, trained by years of being in front of a camera. “Hi everyone! We’re—”
“—Katseye!” the group chimed in, voices overlapping in perfect, chaotic harmony.
They giggled through their own echo, already too relaxed for a supposedly ‘formal’ shoot.
Sophia leaned toward the camera. “Today we’re filming something very special! We’re going to read letters we wrote for each other—friendship edition!”
“Basically, we’re exposing who’s the most sentimental,” Lara teased.
“Or who can’t spell,” Daniela added, to which Megan dramatically gasped.
“Excuse me, I write with emotion, not grammar,” Megan defended, flipping her hair.
Yoonchae laughed quietly, the kind that came from deep comfort. The kind that only happened around these girls.
Her gaze flicked again to Megan, who was smirking, elbow propped casually on the armrest, looking effortlessly confident and slightly mischievous.
The director’s voice cut in. “Okay, sounds good. We’re rolling. Let’s have Sophia go first.”
Sophia groaned dramatically but stood up anyway, sweeping her hair over one shoulder. “Fine. But if I cry, it’s your fault.”
“Noted,” the director said, deadpan, and the red light blinked brighter.
“Okay,” Sophia announced, picking up the envelope with her name. “Here we go.” She tore it open carefully, unfolding the paper with exaggerated suspense.
Yoonchae leaned forward slightly, already smiling. She could feel Megan’s leg brushing lightly against hers under the table—an accidental touch, maybe, but warm.
Sophia began to read. “To my beloved leader, who has taken care of me the best… yet gives me a headache sometimes.”
A chorus of reactions exploded immediately.
“Oh, that has to be Dani!” Manon yelled, pointing like a detective.
“No, the ‘beloved leader’ part sounds like Megan,” Lara countered, half-serious.
Megan laughed, raising both hands. “Why do I feel attacked?”
Yoonchae grinned, watching them fall into their usual rhythm—loud, chaotic, perfect.
Sophia continued through the letter, her voice softening halfway through.
“You’re the glue that holds us together, even when you don’t realize it. Thank you for believing in all of us.”
Her expression faltered slightly, the words hitting harder than she expected. The room quieted for a brief, sincere moment.
And then—“But seriously, stop stealing my snacks.”
The entire set erupted. Sophia dropped her head to the table, laughing. “Okay, that part sounds like megan.”
When she finished, the staff asked, “All right, Sophia, who do you think wrote that for you?”
Sophia bit her lip, pretending to analyze. “Hmm. I’m going with… Megan.”
A loud gasp. Daniela shot up from her chair, hand over her heart. “Excuse me? Excuse me?!”
Laughter rippled across the set.
Sophia’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Wait, it was you?”
Daniela threw her hands up in mock offense. “What do you mean that sounds like Megan? That’s obviously me!”
Sophia got up and hugged her, both of them still giggling as the staff signaled for the next round.
“Okay, next is… Manon!” the director called.
“I’m ready.” Manon looked confident, grabbing her letter immediately.
“To the one who never fails to make me laugh during rehearsals—sometimes on purpose, sometimes by accident.”
Lara was already red-faced from laughing.
“You’re my chaos partner, my snack buddy, and my favorite person to sit beside during long flights. You always fall asleep on my shoulder but somehow deny it every time.”
Everyone turned toward Lara in slow motion.
“Okay fine, it’s me,” she said, throwing her hands up. “Guilty!”
The room burst into applause. “Correct guess!”
Yoonchae clapped along, her cheeks aching from smiling so much. It felt like home, this kind of laughter—loud, messy, genuine.
Then came Daniela’s turn. She opened hers with suspicious eyes, reading dramatically. “To someone who might look tough but is secretly a softie—”
Daniela paused. “Okay, already suspicious.”
“—thank you for always standing up for us, for being brave enough to say what the rest of us are too shy to. You make the group stronger.”
The tone softened halfway through, and Daniela blinked, looking unexpectedly touched.
“Also, please stop leaving your iced coffee everywhere. It’s becoming a hazard.”
Everyone cracked up.
Daniela wiped an imaginary tear. “Okay, this has to be Sophia.”
“Nope!” Manon called proudly, raising her hand. “It was me!”
Daniela’s jaw dropped. “You?!”
“Surprise,” Manon said, grinning wide.
The laughter rolled again—unstoppable now.
//
By the time three letters were read, the mood had turned into pure chaos.
Staff members trying not to laugh too loud behind the cameras, someone’s phone alarm going off, and Lara accidentally spilling water mid-hug.
But beneath all the noise, Yoonchae felt it—that warm, swelling pride she always did during these shoots. Watching everyone tease each other, cry a little, laugh a lot.
it reminded her how rare it was, what they had.
Her eyes drifted to Megan.
Megan was laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach, eyes crinkling in that way that made Yoonchae forget her next breath for a second.
Even under the studio lights, she looked effortlessly soft—like the kind of warmth you could wrap yourself in.
Yoonchae tried to look away, but her gaze lingered. She always said it was because Megan had a magnetic kind of presence, ‘stage charisma’ she’d call it. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t the stage part that made her heart do that stupid skip.
Megan leaned toward her between takes, whispering, “You think mine’s next?”
Yoonchae smiled. “Maybe. You nervous?”
Megan grinned back. “Nah. But if it’s embarrassing, I’m blaming you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you always look suspicious.”
Yoonchae rolled her eyes, pretending to nudge her away, but her pulse betrayed her—fast and uneven.
The staff shuffled the remaining envelopes again, announcing, “All right, next up… Megan!”
The girls whooped and cheered. Megan bowed dramatically like a comedian about to take the stage.
Yoonchae’s smile froze in place for a heartbeat.
She watched as the staff handed Megan the letter—the one neatly labeled with her name.
Her letter.
Her safe, camera-friendly letter.
Her stomach twisted as Megan held up the paper, still laughing, completely unaware.
“Prepare for a love confession!” Daniela sang.
“Or a roast,” Lara added. “Fifty-fifty chance.”
Megan laughed, flashing that dimple that made everyone—especially Yoonchae melt a little inside.
“Oh, I can handle either,” she said, waving the envelope like a pro.
Yoonchae exhaled quietly, hands folded in her lap.
Megan slid a finger under the seal and opened it carefully. The rustle of paper sounded louder than usual.
“Okay, here we go,” Megan said, clearing her throat. “Dear Megan…”
The set fell silent.
Yoonchae smiled, trying to act casual.
“You probably don’t even realize how often you make my day better just by being you.”
The girls all went, “Awwww,” like it was scripted.
“Your laugh always makes me laugh too, even when I’m pretending not to look.”
Lara grinned. “That’s cute! Who’s the secret admirer?”
Megan chuckled, glancing around. “Okay, whoever wrote this, this is already very sweet.”
Yoonchae bit her lip, smiling.
“You never notice how my heart speeds up when you talk to me, but I think that’s good. I’d die of embarrassment if you did.”
The room went silent. The kind of silence that has weight.
Yoonchae’s pen froze mid-twirl in her hand.
Her eyes widened.
Megan blinked, reading again like maybe she misread.
“Sometimes I wish I could tell you how much I love being yours. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for.”
Chaos didn’t even begin to describe what happened next.
Sophia’s eyes went huge. Daniela choked on air. Lara slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.
Yoonchae’s soul briefly left her body.
“Oh my god—wait, wait!” she blurted, half-standing, half-panicking. “Megan, stop! You. that’s not—”
Megan froze, paper halfway down, cheeks burning red. “What—”
“You—you read it wrong!” Yoonchae stammered, waving her hands in front of her.
The staff blinked in confusion, their cameras still rolling.
“What’s wrong?” one staff asked.
Lara, trying not to laugh, subtly leaned forward to peek at the letter from Megan’s hand. Then her eyes widened, and she immediately turned her head away, biting her fist.
Manon caught sight too, and her whole face contorted as she tried not to burst into laughter.
Megan looked back down at the page, realization dawning in slow, horrified motion. Her entire face flushed pink. “Oh. Ohhh no.”
Yoonchae wanted to crawl under the table.
The staff looked around, bewildered. “Uh—should we cut?”
Before Yoonchae could speak, Megan waved them off with the stiffest smile in history. “I’m sorry! I think—uh—it’s just my dyslexia acting up again.”
That broke them.
Daniela wheezed. “Your—your dyslexia made you read girlfriend?!”
Lara collapsed against the table, crying from laughter.
Sophia tried to cover it with a cough but failed spectacularly.
Yoonchae, mortified beyond belief, buried her face in her hands.
Megan gave her a helpless, apologetic look, the paper trembling in her hand. “I swear I didn’t mean to—oh my god—”
The staff, clearly amused but trying to keep composure, said, “Uh… do you want to restart that take?”
Megan nodded too fast. “Yes, please. Definitely.”
They shuffled around, pretending to reset. The other members were barely holding it together. Manon had to face away from the cameras entirely.
Yoonchae sat rigid, cheeks still pink, eyes glued to the table. Megan leaned over subtly, whispering so low only she could hear.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know—”
Yoonchae shook her head, still mortified. “I mixed them up,” she whispered back. “That was the one for after. I’m really sorry”
Megan pressed her lips together to stop a laugh.
The cameras started rolling again.
“Okay, take two!” the staff said brightly. “Megan, please read your letter again.”
Megan cleared her throat, dramatically holding up the same cursed paper like she’d never seen it before.
“To Megan,” she began, tone overly cheerful, “you are the best… best friend I could ever ask for.”
Manon snorted so loudly the staff had to retake again.
Megan powered through.
“I really appreciate how you always make me laugh, and, uh… and how my heart speeds up when you talk to me! As my bestfriend!”
The room erupted.
Even Yoonchae, half-dying of embarrassment, couldn’t help but laugh now—the absurdity too much.
Megan shot her a quick side glance mid-laughter, her expression soft despite the chaos. That little spark—the unspoken ‘I’ve got you’ melted some of Yoonchae’s panic.
//
By the time the last letter was read, the studio was a mess of empty water bottles, crumpled tissues, and half-lost composure.
The lights were still bright, the cameras still rolling for a few closing comments, but everyone was glowing with that kind of easy warmth that came after hours of laughing, crying, and remembering too much together.
Sophia wiped under her eyes. “I swear, I didn’t think I’d cry this much for a YouTube video.”
Daniela groaned beside her. “You cried and roasted me at the same time. That’s a skill.”
Manon leaned back in her chair. “This was the best. We should do this every year.”
“Yeah,” Lara agreed. “As long as Yoonchae checks her envelopes next time.”
The room howled.
Yoonchae immediately covered her face. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Absolutely not,” Sophia said cheerfully.
Even the staff were smiling as they called for the final group shot. “All right, everyone together—say something for the fans!”
They huddled close, arms around each other, still giggling. Megan was beside Yoonchae, her shoulder brushing gently against hers.
Sophia counted down. “Three, two, one!”
“Katseye forever!” they shouted together.
“Cut! That’s a wrap, everyone!” the director called out.
The staff thanked them, everyone clapped, and the girls immediately slumped in their chairs, groaning like marathon runners who’d made it to the finish line.
Instantly, relief filled the air. The tension, the energy—everything dissolved into soft laughter and chatter as crew members began unplugging cables and turning off lights.
Each of the girls reached for their mics, carefully peeling the tape from their shirts and unclipping the transmitters.
Manon was the first to let out a dramatic sigh of freedom. “Finally, I can breathe again,” she said, rubbing her shoulder.
Sophia giggled, helping Daniela with her tangled mic wire. “You almost cried three times, by the way.”
“I did cry three times,” Daniela corrected, and the two burst into laughter.
Yoonchae tugged her mic free, trying not to glance too much at Megan who was still chatting with a cameraman, looking effortlessly casual despite the earlier chaos. Her heart was finally starting to slow down, though her face still felt warm.
Once everything was packed up, the staff started rolling out equipment toward the back of the studio.
The girls, now free from their mics, wandered toward a cozy corner of the set—an area decked out with their old posters and a couple of beanbags for the post-shoot B-roll.
It was quieter there, away from the chatter of the crew. Just the six of them again. No cameras, no bright lights.
Then came the inevitable.
Lara stretched, turning toward Megan with the most mischievous grin imaginable. “Sooo…” she started, drawing out the word. “Should we talk about that letter?”
Yoonchae froze mid-sip of water. “Don’t.”
Megan laughed nervously. “Oh no.”
Daniela perked up instantly. “Wait, which part?”
“The part,” Lara said, her voice syrup-sweet, “where she said, and I quote—” She dramatically cleared her throat, pretending to read from an invisible paper.
“‘I love when you give me your clothes. It smells so much like you, the sleep without you at night feels better.’”
The entire group screamed. Manon fell off her chair. Sophia literally slapped the table.
Megan dropped her face into her hands. “I can’t believe you read that.”
“I saw it, I didn’t mean to!” Lara giggled uncontrollably. “It was right there! It’s not my fault your girlfriend writes like she’s in a romance drama!”
Yoonchae buried her face in her hoodie, muffled voice coming out somewhere between despair and laughter. “Please. Stop. Talking.”
Manon, wiping tears of laughter, leaned in from the other side. “Wait, wait, Lara, you missed the best part!”
Lara gasped. “There’s more?”
“Oh yeah.” Manon turned to Megan, pretending to squint like she was recalling a line.
“‘I love it so much when you shower me with kisses.’”
The reaction was instant chaos.
Daniela screamed into a cushion. Sophia was on the floor laughing. Lara looked seconds away from tears.
“Oh my god, Manon!” Yoonchae groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it weakly at her.
Manon caught it mid-air, wheezing. “What? It’s poetic!”
“Too poetic! I didn’t know you had rizz like that, Yoonchip!” Sophia shouted between laughs.
Megan could only sit there, red-faced but smiling helplessly. “Okay, you’re all banned from reading anything I ever hold again.”
“Fair,” Lara said, still laughing. “But also… adorable.”
Yoonchae peeked from behind her hands. “I’m never writing letters again.”
“Oh, you will,” Daniela teased. “You’re too romantic not to.”
After a few minutes, the laughter softened into fond chuckles. The teasing lingered, but it was the kind that carried love underneath.
Sophia nudged Yoonchae gently. “You know, it’s kind of sweet though. I mean, embarrassing, yeah—but sweet.”
“Mortifying,” Yoonchae corrected.
“But sweet,” Sophia insisted. “Like, come on, we’ve all known you two were disgustingly in love. Now it’s just confirmed.”
Daniela nodded sagely. “Yeah, we were starting to think you were keeping it too professional lately. Needed this reminder.”
Lara snickered. “Exactly. Consider this fan service for us.”
Yoonchae groaned again, but she couldn’t help smiling—cheeks warm, heart lighter. The embarrassment still buzzed under her skin, but so did something softer, brighter.
Across from her, Megan was laughing quietly, shaking her head. When their eyes met, she mouthed, you okay?
Yoonchae nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. I’ll survive.
Megan mouthed back, you owe me another letter.
Yoonchae bit her lip to keep from laughing, eyes rolling.
//
The group eventually packed up, still teasing as they went. Lara walked past humming a dramatic love song, Daniela kept quoting fake romantic lines, and Manon made exaggerated heart gestures every time Yoonchae walked by.
It was chaotic, ridiculous and so perfectly them.
Yoonchae and Megan found themselves lingering near the exit. The studio was quieter now, the others still chatting near the merch display.
For a moment, the air felt calm again.
Megan leaned slightly closer, voice low. “You know,” she said, “for what it’s worth… that letter was really sweet.”
Yoonchae groaned softly. “Don’t remind me.”
Megan smiled, gentle and teasing at once. “I mean it. It made me want to frame it.”
Yoonchae laughed despite herself, hiding her face in her sleeves. “You’re impossible.”
Megan tilted her head. “But you love me anyway, right?”
Yoonchae shot her a look. “You’re never letting this go, are you?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
They both started laughing again—the kind of quiet, easy laughter that came when all the chaos had passed and only warmth was left.
Behind them, the other girls were still shouting jokes, calling out, “Hey, lovebirds, stop flirting and help carry the props!”
Megan rolled her eyes. “See? You started a movement.”
Yoonchae sighed, smiling anyway.
And as they left the set—laughter echoing behind them, hands brushing lightly as they walked. Yoonchae thought maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the worst mistake after all.
//
As the rest of the group began gathering their things and saying their goodbyes, Megan tugged gently at Yoonchae’s sleeve. “Hey… want to grab dinner? Just us?”
Yoonchae blinked, caught off-guard, but the soft warmth in her chest made her nod. “Yeah… I’d like that.”
They found a cozy little bistro nearby, soft lights reflecting off the windowpanes.
Over plates of steaming pasta and laughter, they retold little moments from the shoot, exaggerated and teasing each other, while sneaking glances that lingered a second too long.
Megan kept stealing bites from Yoonchae’s plate, and Yoonchae dramatically protested, only to laugh when Megan made a face like it was an injustice she couldn’t live with.
After dinner, they wandered into the night, hand in hand, the city quiet around them. Streetlights painted soft pools of gold on the pavement, and the occasional rustle of leaves accompanied their footsteps.
Megan nudged Yoonchae playfully. “You know, you really embarrassed yourself today. On purpose.”
Yoonchae groaned, but the blush creeping across her cheeks betrayed her. “I did not.”
“You totally did,” Megan teased, squeezing her hand. “And… I loved it.”
Yoonchae’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “You’re impossible.”
“But, seriously. You wrote two versions? One for the fans and one just for me?”
Yoonchae hesitated, cheeks pink. “I didn’t plan to mix them up.”
“I know,” Megan said softly, smile turning fond. “But still. That’s… kind of the sweetest thing ever.”
Yoonchae groaned again. “Don’t say it out loud.”
Megan laughed. “Fine, fine. But you know what’s funny? I didn’t even get to finish reading it.”
Yoonchae looked up warily. “Megan.”
Megan was already fishing the folded paper from her pocket. “No, no, we’re doing this. For closure.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Too late.”
She unfolded the now slightly crumpled letter and cleared her throat dramatically. “Sometimes I wish I could tell you how much I love being yours. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for’”
“Megan—”
“You never notice how you make things brighter just by walking into a room.”
Megan smiled faintly. “‘I like it when you hum under your breath when you’re nervous. And how you always share your food even when you say you won’t.’”
Yoonchae hid her face again, whispering, “Stop reading it like that.”
“‘You’re really the best girlfriend I could ever ask for, and I don’t say it enough because it sounds cheesy. But you are. You make me want to be better.’”
Megan paused, her teasing smile softening completely.
“That’s my favorite part,” she said quietly.
Yoonchae’s breath hitched. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Learned from you,” Megan said, grinning again. “You’re a bad influence.”
They walked a little further, silence and laughter weaving together like the perfect soundtrack for their night. Every stolen glance, every gentle squeeze of the hand, every brush of shoulders made the world shrink to just the two of them.
Megan looked at Yoonchae, the letter forgotten in her pocket. “You know… if we’re keeping score, you technically owe me a new one now.”
“I’m never writing again,” Yoonchae muttered, feigning defeat.
“Yes, you are,” Megan insisted, tugging her hand.
“No.”
“Yes. Because I want to see how you’re going to top ‘best girlfriend I could ever ask for.’”
Yoonchae squinted, trying not to smile too widely. “You’re unbearable.”
Megan grinned. “And you love me anyway.”
“…Unfortunately,” Yoonchae said, shaking her head, cheeks pink in the lamplight.
Megan gasped dramatically. “Tragic! Devastating!”
Yoonchae laughed so hard she leaned against Megan, and Megan wrapped her arm around her. The world around them melted into a perfect little bubble of warmth, quiet, and soft, shared love—a night that felt like it could last forever.
//
A week later, the video appeared on Katseye’s YouTube channel.
Letters of Friendship | KATSEYE
Yoonchae tapped on it, her fingers curling around her phone, heart fluttering slightly. The video opened with cheerful music and a bright thumbnail—all six of them posing in front of a wall of memories, arms linked, grinning like they hadn’t just survived one of the most chaotic filming sessions ever.
The video started. The laughter and the tears. Everything looked perfectly normal. Perfectly edited. Perfectly like a Katseye video.
That is, until it reached Megan’s turn.
Yoonchae felt her stomach do a little flip as the scene came into view. Megan picked up her envelope and began reading. On screen, the pause seemed tiny, but Yoonchae remembered it vividly—the way Megan’s eyes had flicked, the subtle hitch in her voice. Sophia bit her lip; Daniela looked anywhere but the camera; Manon fixated on her water bottle like it held the answers to life; and Yoonchae herself, sitting in the corner, felt her face burning.
The editors had cut something out, she realized. The laughter that followed was just slightly too forced, just slightly too loud.
Then came the ‘second take’. Megan’s voice bright and airy, overcompensating: “You’re the best best friend I could ask for!”
She knew some of the fans would notice. The subtle glances, the tense laughter, the tiny pause—it was all there if you knew to look.
Scrolling past, she caught the top comments:
Okay but what HAPPENED during Megan’s turn 😭 everyone’s faces looked suspicious??
Why was yoonchae so red during Megan’s turn😭😭😭 she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor
I love how they’re all laughing but trying not to laugh. something went DOWN
This feels like an inside joke we’ll never understand and I'm nosy as hell!!
A tiny smile tugged at her lips. No one would ever know the truth. The panic, the laughter, the mix-up with the letter—those moments belonged only to them.
Yoonchae sat back, phone resting in her hands, trying to act casual as the video played.
Megan, who had been pressed close to her all evening, shifted slightly, letting her shoulder brush against Yoonchae’s. It was subtle, warm—a quiet closeness that made Yoonchae’s heart skip.
Beside her, Megan nudged her knee, leaning in with a soft, contented grin. “They’re onto us,” Megan whispered, eyes gleaming mischievously.
Yoonchae crossed her arms, feigning indifference, though her cheeks betrayed her. “They have no idea what they’re onto,” she replied, voice a little tighter than usual.
Megan chuckled under her breath, resting her head lightly against Yoonchae’s shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh of comfort. “Good,” she murmured. “Let’s keep it that way.”
On screen, their laughter continued—six girls celebrating friendship, reminiscing and teasing each other.
But for Yoonchae, watching with Megan curled beside her like that, it was something softer, something gentle, something that made the world feel just a little warmer.
A secret that no one else needed to see.
//