Chapter Text
The first time Seonghyeon sees her again, it’s under stage lights.
Not the soft, golden sunlight of Busan summers.
Not the backyard hose fights and melting popsicles.
Not the small bedroom where she used to steal his hoodie because “it smells like you.”
No.
It’s the blinding LED panels of M Countdown, cameras rolling, staff shouting cues, and the familiar intro music blasting through his in-ear.
“Ready?” Martin mutters beside him, flashing the professional MC smile he’s perfected since debut.
Keonho adjusts his cue card. “Don’t mess up the English part, hyung.”
Seonghyeon barely hears them.
Because across the stage, lined up in black and silver outfits, stands BABYMONSTER.
And in the center,
Chiquita.
Canny.
She looks smaller than he remembers and bigger at the same time. Sharper. Polished. Her hair falls straight down her back, makeup accentuating features he once knew better than his own.
He hasn’t seen her in two years.
Two years of training. Two years of debut preparation. Two years of carefully not texting because their mothers warned them, “You’re both trainees now. Be careful.”
Be careful.
As if feelings could be scheduled around comeback promotions.
The interview begins smoothly.
Martin leads the intro. Keonho cracks a joke. The members laugh.
Seonghyeon keeps his voice steady.
“Congratulations on your recent stage. How does it feel to perform on M Countdown?”
Professional. Neutral.
Chiquita answers in Korean first, then English. Her voice is brighter than he remembers. She doesn’t look at him directly.
Not once.
And he understands.
They both do.
Idols don’t have childhood best friends of the opposite gender.
Not publicly.
Especially not when both groups are rookies. Especially not when dating rumors can start from eye contact.
Their mothers used to laugh about it.
“You two are practically siblings.”
But they aren’t.
And they both know that too.
Halfway through the interview, something shifts.
Keonho leans slightly toward Chiquita, grinning.
“You mentioned you trained in Korea for years, right? That must have been hard. Did you have friends here?”
Seonghyeon’s fingers tighten around his mic.
Chiquita pauses only for a fraction of a second. “Yes, I did. My family’s close to some people here.”
Safe answer.
Careful.
Keonho smiles wider. “Then we should exchange numbers later so we can be friends too. Right, hyung?”
The world goes quiet for Seonghyeon.
It’s stupid.
It’s normal.
Idols exchange numbers all the time backstage.
But something tightens in his chest.
Sharp. Sudden.
Unfamiliar.
Martin laughs it off. “Keonho collects numbers like photocards.”
Everyone laughs.
Even Chiquita.
But Seonghyeon sees the way her eyes flicker,just briefly,to him.
Like she’s checking.
Like she’s asking something silently.
And he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to answer.
Backstage is chaos.
Staff rushing. Managers coordinating. Camera crews moving.
CORTIS is scheduled for rehearsal in fifteen minutes.
Seonghyeon is halfway down the corridor when he hears Keonho behind him.
“Hyung, I’m going to say hi to BABYMONSTER real quick.”
His heartbeat spikes.
“Why?”
Keonho shrugs. “Just networking. They’re cool. And Chiquita seems nice.”
Nice.
The word feels wrong in Seonghyeon’s ears.
Canny used to cry if he killed a mosquito.
Canny used to refuse to sleep unless someone checked for monsters under the bed.
Canny used to cling to his arm every time thunder hit during summer storms.
Nice isn’t the word.
Before he realizes it, he says, “I’ll come.”
Keonho smirks. “Oh? Interested?”
“No,” he answers too quickly.
The BABYMONSTER waiting room door is slightly open.
Inside, laughter.
When they knock, a manager opens it cautiously, then relaxes when he sees the MC badges.
“Ah, thank you for the interview earlier.”
Polite greetings. Formal bows.
Seonghyeon keeps his gaze on the floor.
Until he can’t.
She’s sitting on the couch, still in stage makeup, hair slightly messier now. When their eyes meet—
There it is.
Recognition.
Relief.
Something warmer.
“Keonho-ssi!” one of her members greets brightly.
Keonho grins and steps forward. “You did great today. Especially you, Chiquita-ssi.”
The honorific feels like a wall being built brick by brick.
Chiquita smiles. “Thank you.”
Then,
“So… about being friends,” Keonho continues casually. “Can I get your number? For practice collabs or something.”
The room goes still in a way only Seonghyeon seems to notice.
Her members look curious.
The manager watches carefully.
And Seonghyeon’s chest tightens again.
Why does it feel like this?
It’s not like he owns her.
It’s not like they ever promised anything.
It’s not like he called her in two years.
But the idea of someone else casually stepping into a space that used to be his
It makes his pulse loud in his ears.
Chiquita hesitates.
Just for a breath.
Then she glances at him.
Not obviously.
Not enough for anyone else to catch.
But he sees it.
And for the first time since debut, Seonghyeon realizes something terrifying:
He doesn’t want to be just her “childhood friend.”
He doesn’t want to be hidden.
He doesn’t want Keonho’s number in her phone.
The feeling settles heavy and undeniable.
Jealousy.
And maybe something worse.
Something he buried the day they both debuted.
Something that never actually went away.
“Sure,” she says softly.
And Seonghyeon feels something crack open in his chest.