Chapter Text
The conference room smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant and nerves, a combination that somehow made Dunk’s hoodie feel like a weighted blanket. Sunlight streamed through the blinds in neat stripes across the polished table. It was glinting off stacks of papers, pens, and a suspiciously pristine folder sitting square in the center.
“Maintaining Professional Boundaries in the Age of Social Media.”
Joong was the first to reach for it, curiosity warring with a kind of bored amusement. He flipped it over and promptly used it as a coaster for his iced coffee. He took a sip and squinted at Dunk. “Is this… a meeting or a subtle threat?”
Dunk, standing near the window like a brooding statue, lifted one shoulder. “Depends. Are they trying to control us or entertain themselves?” He tilted his head, letting the light catch in his eyes. “Honestly, I can’t tell which.”
Pond leaned back in his chair, tugging at the cuff of his sweater nervously. “We’re doomed,” he muttered, voice low enough for nobody but the ceiling tiles to hear. He glanced at Phuwin, who was pretending to doodle in his notebook but definitely listening.
Phuwin didn’t look up. He never did, not until absolutely necessary. “Doomed,” he echoed quietly, adding, “but at least it’s aesthetically pleasing.”
Santa, perched on the edge of the table like someone preparing to launch a dramatic monologue, sighed. “Aesthetically pleasing?” He gestured vaguely to the folder. “This screams death by small font and vague rules.”
Perth, hoodie up despite the sunlight, scrolled through a fan account tracking all eight of them. “I’m going to need mental preparation for this,” he muttered. “Like… real prep. Breathing exercises, maybe a small chant.”
Aou, ever the quiet observer, peeked over Boom’s shoulder, who was sketching hearts and arrows in his notebook. “He’s already planning.” Aou said, nodding toward Boom. “Mentally preparing for disaster.”
Boom looked up just long enough to give Aou a faint smirk. “Mentally preparing for you to notice I’m holding your pen.”
Joong snorted. “Mentally preparing for everything, apparently. Should we even try?”
“Of course.” Dunk said. His tone was deadpan, but his hand twitched toward his pocket, where he had already stashed a small, matching trinket he knew Joong would notice. “We’ll try… disastrously.”
At the far end, P’Ying pinched the bridge of her nose. Her calm, corporate demeanor was cracking just slightly. “Gentlemen…” she said carefully, “we’re here because the fans… well they notice everything. Literally everything. And management is… concerned.”
“Concerned?” Joong repeated. “About what? That we exist?”
“Yes,” P’Jack interjected, chipper but exasperated, “but in a controlled way. That’s the point. No matching outfits. No excessive touching. Keep PDA minimal. Avoid overlapping schedules in suspicious ways. And above all-”
“Yes, yes, the usual.” Dunk interrupted. “Basically, don’t date in public.”
“Yes.” P’Ying confirmed, leaning forward so the sunlight glinted off her watch. “Exactly that. And… subtly. Subtlety is your friend.”
Joong tilted his head, brow quirking. “So, subtlety is… stop existing in ways that are fun or obvious?”
Pond groaned. “I told you all we’re doomed..” he muttered again, louder this time.
Santa rolled his eyes. “No, we have been doomed. For ages already. I can feel it in my soul. And yet… I’m kind of excited?”
Perth smirked, flipping through his phone. “Excited in the worst possible way.”
Boom doodled a tiny heart around the corner of his notebook page. “Excited,” he whispered to Aou, “because this is going to be beautiful chaos.”
Aou shook his head but smiled faintly. “Yeah. Beautiful chaos.”
Dunk finally moved from the window and crossed the room, pacing slightly. “Step one,” he said, “let’s make sure no one notices anything… like ever.”
“Ever?” Joong asked, mock-wide eyes. “You mean… impossible. But okay, challenge accepted.”
“Impossible is fun.” Santa added, stretching dramatically over the table. “Let’s enjoy failing.”
Phuwin, notebook still in hand, muttered, “I am not morally opposed to subtleness. Just so you know.”
Perth leaned over to Santa, whispering, “I think this is where we start tracking penalties for failure.”
Santa grinned. “I like that idea. One point per accidental display of obvious… love.”
Boom glanced up, adjusting his pen. “And a prize for the team that fails the most elegantly?”
“Of course.” Aou agreed, smirking faintly. “Elegantly being… painfully obvious.”
P’Ying rubbed her temples. “Please tell me you are joking.”
Joong tilted the pamphlet like a shield. “Oh, we’re joking. Totally joking. But also…in trouble.”
Dunk smirked. “And trouble looks very good on us, apparently.”
The room fell into a short silence. Not awkward, not tense, just a kind of charged anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming. Four couples, each expertly trained in the art of pretending, about to fail spectacularly in synchrony.
P’Jack cleared his throat. “You will need to keep track of yourselves. Be aware of everything you post, every glance, every… yawn, that looks suspicious.”
Pond raised his hand. “So, we can’t yawn?”
“Yes, exactly Pond.” P’Ying said flatly. “Don’t yawn. Especially not at the same time.”
“Noted.” Phuwin said, smirking faintly at Pond. “Step one: avoid simultaneous yawns.”
“Simultaneous?” Santa asked. “Who even tracks that?”
“I will,” Phuwin said, calm as ever, “because someone has to.”
Joong shook his head. “I volunteer as tribute to photograph everything discreetly.”
Boom snorted. “Discreetly… yeah, okay.”
Perth leaned back, dragging the folder across the table. “Step one,” he said, “is clearly already broken.”
Dunk raised his eyebrow. “Broken, yes. But in a strategic way.”
Santa clapped his hands, theatrically. “Strategic chaos. I can do that.”
Perth peeked at his phone again. “So… we’re doomed, but loving?”
“Yes.” Joong confirmed. “Exactly that.”
Pond groaned again. “We’re doomed, loving and about to be viral for something we haven’t even done yet.”
Boom stopped his doodles for a second, smirking. “I think I can live with that.”
Aou quietly reached over, nudging his own notebook toward Boom. “We’ll survive,” he whispered, and Boom gave him a soft, almost imperceptible smile.
Dunk watched Joong stretch, eyes on him. “Ready to ruin Step One?”
Joong’s grin was slow, mischievous, full of the kind of energy that could only mean trouble. “Always, bro.” he said.
And just like that, the eight actors, all experts in the art of pretending, were officially unleashed into the world with a rulebook in hand and absolutely no intention of following it.
Because love was obvious, chaos was inevitable, and subtlety… well, subtlety has never been their strongest suit has it?