Chapter Text
That first glance is lethal.
It feels like it could've been an accident, a coincidence, a bored man's wandering gaze. But, with the way that it goes, it looks more like Nicholas has been staring, and the idol standing one row behind him on the ending stage has just taken notice.
Anxious, he ducks his head and quickly bows to them, and with a mirthful smile they offer one back in greeting.
As if they weren't already entrancing enough; when they lift their arm to move some of their hair over their shoulder, their perfume loyally follows. The aroma is sweet and warm, like something taken right out of the oven, and Nicholas just about melts over it. He wants to know them just as badly as he wants to trail behind them like a cartoon character floating after a freshly baked pie.
And so, with minutes to spare before the broadcast begins, Nicholas speaks. Even though it puts a skip in his heartbeat and does nothing whatsoever to quell the nervous sweating, he speaks.
"Great performance," He tells them, leaning in ever so slightly so that he can keep his voice low. "I saw it on the— on the tv."
The idol smiles, flattered to some degree Nicholas hopes. "Thank you," They say. Their voice is much airier than Nicholas expected, almost like every word comes out as a sigh.
"I've never seen anyone do the splits on one of these shows before," Nicholas says. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants in an effort to keep them still. "Did you have to practice that a lot, or?"
"Um, not personally. My members on the other hand…" They laugh a little, combing their fingers through the ends of their hair. "They're pretty good at it now."
"Got it." Nicholas nods, tries his best not to think too hard about that. "I guess it helps to have at least one flexible person per group. Right? For… doing flips. Fans love that kind of stuff."
"I guess so."
"I'm something of an expert at tumbling myself."
They raise a brow at him, amused. "Are you?" They ask, following up with a very brief, very subtle once-over, but it's still the most intimidating thing he's ever experienced.
Oh, shit. Nicholas can feel the back of his neck heating up. "Y-yeah. I can do a crazy one-handed cartwheel. Sometimes. If I'm in the mood," He jokes.
"Right." They grin. "So you're the flexible member in your group?"
"Me? Nah." Nicholas rolls his shoulders back, exaggerating his posture and his tone to make it obvious that he's still joking before he adds: "Being in charge of visuals is exhausting enough."
He gets another laugh out of them at the very least, but the conversation drops off there. The MCs take their places at the front of the stage, and the audience starts to get excited again, and though Nicholas would normally be just as excited for all of this to end, he panics.
"Nicholas," He says, pointing to himself. "I saw you in the hall before the show, but I didn't get a chance to, um, introduce myself. Too much going on, you know?" He bows again.
When he's back up to full height, the idol is just standing there staring at him, their pretty eyes bugging in what looks to be surprise.
"Rui…" They say, bowing back slightly, looking back and forth between him and the front of the stage.
"Rui, that's— that's a really pretty name."
Nicholas' gaze moves a bit to the left, snapping to the idol who is calmly watching him from Rui's opposite side. They smile prettily, tilt their head, and bow as well.
Now, perhaps it was always there, but it took Nicholas this long to notice the hand currently resting on Rui's waist, with nails like claws digging into their skin.
"Nicholas," Kei snaps, nipping his side with quick fingers. "Turn around, what are you—" It only takes one look over his shoulder for his entire demeanor to change. "Hello," He says, rather pleasant all of a sudden. He bows, and Nicholas witnesses the cycle of never-ending greetings pick right up where it left off.
Not only that, but he has to watch as Rui's attention migrates to Kei instead. He gets a front row seat to the shy smile shared between them that turns their ears pink.
"Kei-hyung," Nicholas says, tugging on his sleeve. He turns his head and hisses: "Man, you were just scolding me."
"Yeah, because the back of your head was just on the goddamn jumbotron," Kei tells him through his teeth.
Nicholas' blood goes cold, and as he turns back around, he meets Euijoo's eye. He blinks at him, confused, then raises his hands in question.
"Pack it up, buddy," Maki mumbles to him, gently patting his shoulder. "It's alright."
"I didn't—"
"He's trying to score on the Show Champion stage of all places." Yuma snorts.
"What?"
"Look, look, there you are again," Harua says excitedly, nodding upwards. Nicholas looks up and is met with his own face looking right back at him, blown up on the screen for everyone to see. He looks scared, and it's obvious from where he's perfectly positioned between the idols in the front row.
He tries to duck behind Kei, but that only raises the eyebrows of the idols standing behind him, including Rui. As luck would have it.
To them, Nicholas extends an awkward, boxy smile.
Rui gives him a smile in return, sure, but it's rife with pity. The image of it haunts Nicholas well after it's over.
"Don't beat yourself up," Maki says later when Nicholas has retired to his bedroom.
Laying facedown on his bed, he listens, but that's all he has the energy for.
"There's always Inkigayo. Right?"