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When the email arrived this time, you didn't open it immediately.
You had learned your lesson from the last round of interviews months ago, when anticipation had built itself into something fragile that shattered quietly inside your living room. This time you sat at the small kitchen table of your apartment with your laptop open in front of you, staring at the subject line for almost a full minute while your coffee cooled beside your hand.
Your heart beat faster than usual.
Across the table, Beomgyu leaned forward with his chin resting in his palm, watching you with the dramatic seriousness of someone observing a very intense soccer match.
“Open it.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“You’ve been thinking about it for thirty-seven seconds.”
“You’re counting?”
“Yes.”
You inhaled slowly.
The company logo at the top of the email belonged to HYBE, but the position you had interviewed for was specifically within the styling team for Enhypen, whose promotions and tours were expanding rapidly enough that additional stylists were being hired.
You had told Beomgyu about the interview process the moment you were contacted.
At first he had simply blinked at you.
“Enhypen?”
“Yes.”
“You’re applying to style my juniors.”
“You say that like it’s illegal.”
He had laughed then, although the amusement carried a tiny trace of disbelief.
“I’m just imagining the chaos if I start visiting their waiting room every day.”
“You absolutely cannot do that.”
Now he watched you with narrowed eyes.
“Open it,” he repeated.
You finally clicked.
Your gaze moved across the first line, then the second, and your brain took a moment to process the meaning of the words sitting quietly on the screen.
Beomgyu leaned closer.
“Well?”
Your mouth opened.
Then you covered it with both hands.
“Oh my god.”
He sat up instantly.
“What? What does it say?”
You turned the laptop toward him.
He read the message quickly, and the moment he reached the line confirming that you had been selected for the position, he jumped out of his chair so abruptly that it scraped loudly against the kitchen floor.
“You got it!”
Your hands were still covering your face.
“I got it,” you whispered.
The next thing you knew, he had pulled you up from the chair and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that your feet barely stayed on the ground.
“I knew it,” he said into your hair. “I knew it.”
You laughed breathlessly against his shoulder.
“You didn’t know it. You were just confident.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“It is when I’m right.”
He finally let you go, although his hands remained on your shoulders while he looked at you with an expression that was half pride and half something softer.
“You’re going to be incredible.”
Your excitement bubbled up again.
“I’m going to have an official artist team badge,” you said, almost disbelieving the words yourself. “And backstage access during promotions.”
“Which means,” Beomgyu said slowly, “you’ll be spending a lot of time around my juniors.”
You squinted at him.
“You’re not going to cause problems, are you?”
“Why would I cause problems?”
“Because you just smiled like a villain.”
“I’m proud of my girlfriend.”
“That didn’t answer the question.”
He only grinned.
Your first week working with Enhypen moved faster than you expected.
The styling team itself welcomed you warmly, guiding you through the rhythm of their schedule while rehearsals, photoshoots, and performance preparations filled nearly every hour of the day.
Enhypen were polite from the very beginning, greeting you respectfully during your introduction meeting before returning to choreography practice while the stylists prepared racks of outfits for upcoming music show stages.
Working backstage required quick hands and quick thinking. Hair tools warmed up on the counters. Makeup palettes opened. Brushes scattered everywhere. Stage outfits were carefully steamed and arranged in order of performance changes.
Within a few days you found yourself moving through the waiting room with growing confidence, adjusting collars, brushing stray powder from shoulders, and fixing small styling details while the members prepared to go on stage.
One afternoon, while you were crouched near the clothing racks organizing accessories, the waiting room door opened.
You glanced up automatically.
Choi Beomgyu walked inside like he belonged there.
You froze.
He closed the door behind him and removed his mask with a bright smile that looked entirely too pleased with itself.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you whispered urgently.
“I’m visiting my juniors.”
“You’re in the wrong building.”
“It’s the same company.”
“You’re impossible.”
Enhypen had already noticed him.
“Beomgyu sunbaenim!” Jungwon greeted, standing up quickly while the other members followed with polite bows.
Beomgyu returned the greetings casually, chatting with them easily while you stood near the styling table pretending to focus on your tools.
Every few seconds his eyes flickered toward you.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
You refused to look back.
After a few minutes, the members were called to rehearsal.
They grabbed their water bottles and hurried toward the stage area, leaving the waiting room quiet again.
The moment the door closed behind them, Beomgyu turned toward you.
“You ignored me.”
“You walked into my workplace unannounced.”
“You should be happy to see me.”
“I am happy to see you,” you muttered. “Just not here.”
He stepped closer.
“You look cute when you’re flustered.”
You glanced toward the hallway nervously.
“Someone could come in.”
“They won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He leaned casually against the styling counter.
“You got the job.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re already working hard.”
“Yes.”
“So I came to congratulate you properly.”
You crossed your arms.
“You already congratulated me.”
“That was at home.”
“What’s the difference?”
“This is your professional environment.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“That explanation makes zero sense.”
His grin widened.
Before you could respond, he reached forward and tugged lightly on your wrist.
The movement pulled you a step closer to him, and your breath caught when his hand slid around your waist.
“Beomgyu,” you whispered.
“Yes?”
“You are absolutely not supposed to be touching me like this backstage.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re at work.”
“So?”
You glanced at the door again.
“The members could come back any second.”
“Then we’ll stop before they open the door.”
Your heart was beating too fast now.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re very pretty when you’re trying to scold me.”
His voice softened slightly.
“I missed you.”
Your expression changed immediately.
“You saw me this morning.”
“That was before rehearsals started.”
You sighed quietly.
He tilted his head down until his forehead brushed lightly against yours.
“Just one,” he murmured.
Your resolve weakened instantly.
“Fine,” you whispered.
His lips touched yours gently, the kiss warm and familiar even in the unfamiliar setting of a backstage waiting room filled with costume racks and makeup lights.
It lasted only a few seconds before you pulled back.
“That’s enough.”
“You’re strict.”
“I’m responsible.”
He laughed softly.
A voice sounded in the hallway.
Your eyes widened.
“Hide.”
“Hide where?”
“Fitting room.”
You shoved him toward the small dressing area behind the clothing racks just as the waiting room door opened again.
Enhypen returned moments later, chatting among themselves while you tried very hard to look like you had been calmly organizing styling supplies the entire time.
From inside the fitting room, Beomgyu remained perfectly silent.
That should have been the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
Over the next few weeks, Beomgyu appeared in Enhypen’s waiting room far more often than anyone expected.
Sometimes he arrived with snacks.
Sometimes he stopped by to say hello.
Sometimes he simply wandered in with the excuse that TXT had finished rehearsals early and he wanted to check on his juniors.
The Enhypen members seemed delighted every time.
You, on the other hand, had developed a permanent sense of cautious anticipation whenever the waiting room door opened.
Because whenever the members were called to the stage for performances, Beomgyu had a habit of appearing behind you almost immediately afterward.
“You’re free for a few minutes,” he would say.
And before you could protest, his arms would wrap around your waist from behind while his chin rested on your shoulder.
“You’re going to get us caught someday,” you whispered one evening while adjusting a rack of stage outfits.
“We won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re very good at pretending to be professional.”
“That’s because I am professional.”
“Except when I kiss you.”
You turned around quickly.
“Lower your voice.”
He only laughed.
One night during a particularly busy music show recording, the members had already gone on stage when Beomgyu slipped into the waiting room again.
You were standing near the mirror removing excess powder from your hands when he closed the door behind him.
“You again?”
“Me again.”
“You visited yesterday.”
“I missed you today.”
“You saw me this morning.”
“That was during breakfast.”
You sighed.
His eyes softened as he stepped closer.
“You’re doing really well here,” he said quietly.
Your irritation faded slightly.
“Thank you.”
“Your juniors look great on stage.”
“I helped with the styling.”
“I know.”
He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
The touch was gentle.
Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“If someone walks in—”
“They won’t.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
His hand slipped around your waist again, pulling you closer while his lips brushed softly against yours in a slower kiss than before.
Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his jacket.
“Gyu,” you murmured.
“Hmm?”
“You’re distracting.”
“That’s the point.”
You laughed quietly against his mouth.
A few minutes later, voices echoed down the hallway as the performance ended.
You quickly stepped away from him.
“Go.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes.”
He gave you one last quick kiss before opening the door.
“See you tonight, baby.”
And then he disappeared into the hallway like nothing had happened at all.
The first time someone caught you, it happened so quickly that you almost didn’t realize it.
Enhypen had just gone on stage for a live recording, and the waiting room had emptied in the usual rush of staff members following them toward the stage monitors.
You stayed behind to tidy the styling table, carefully putting brushes back into their holders and capping the last of the setting sprays.
The door clicked softly.
You didn’t even turn around.
“You again?” you said automatically.
Behind you, Beomgyu laughed quietly.
“You make it sound like I’m a pest.”
“You are a pest,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “What if someone saw you walking in here?”
“They didn’t.”
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“And I was right yesterday.”
He stepped closer while you tried to keep your attention on the makeup palette in your hands.
“You’re getting bold,” you muttered.
“You’re getting cute when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re organizing the same brush for the third time.”
You froze.
Then you placed the brush down slowly.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.”
He smiled softly and leaned against the counter beside you.
“You’re doing really well here,” he said.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
Your shoulders relaxed slightly at the warmth in his voice.
For a moment the room felt quiet and comfortable in a way that made you forget where you were.
Beomgyu reached out and took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
“Come here,” he murmured.
“You said that yesterday too.”
“And you came yesterday too.”
Your cheeks warmed.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
You hesitated.
“…We could get caught.”
His expression turned playful again.
“But we didn’t.”
Before you could argue further, he pulled you gently toward him.
Your back pressed lightly against the styling counter as his arms slid around your waist.
“Gyu,” you whispered.
“Just one kiss.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And it worked yesterday.”
You tried to stay serious.
“You’re a terrible influence.”
“Only on you.”
Your lips met his in a soft kiss that deepened slightly when your hands instinctively rose to his shoulders. His hands trailed up your waist, caressing your sides tenderly while he sighs in contentment against your lips.
The first time Jake realized something was going on, he didn’t say anything.
He simply noticed patterns.
Beomgyu sunbaenim had always been friendly and helpful with the Enhypen members, but suddenly he started appearing backstage far more often than usual, drifting casually into their waiting room with the same relaxed grin every time, greeting the members and staff like he had every right to be there.
At first, Jake assumed he was just visiting. Maybe for some reason Beomgyu decided that Enhypen needed more encouragement from their senior, that’s why he was suddenly visiting more frequently.
Then he noticed something else.
Whenever Beomgyu arrived, your posture changed slightly. You still acted professional, still moved around the room fixing hair and adjusting outfits, but your eyes kept drifting toward him when you thought no one was looking. And Beomgyu kept finding excuses to stand near you.
Jake noticed these things because he tended to notice everything.
He also noticed the way Beomgyu always waited until the room was nearly empty before wandering toward the styling area where you worked.
That was the moment Jake began to suspect something.
He didn’t confront either of you.
Instead, he simply paid closer attention.
One evening after a performance recording, the members filed out of the waiting room toward the stage monitors while you stayed behind to tidy the styling table.
Jake followed the others halfway down the hallway before realizing something.
Beomgyu had slipped into the room a few seconds earlier.
Jake slowed his steps.
He glanced back toward the waiting room door.
The hallway was still crowded with staff and members moving toward the stage.
For some reason, Jake quietly stepped sideways and leaned against the wall near the door.
He waited.
After a moment he heard faint laughter inside the room.
Jake rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.
“…Oh,” he murmured under his breath.
The realization arrived slowly but clearly.
He didn’t interrupt.
Instead he turned around and walked down the hallway to catch up with the others.
From that day forward Jake developed a strange new habit.
Whenever Beomgyu appeared backstage and the waiting room slowly emptied, Jake somehow always found a reason to linger in the hallway.
Sometimes he guided the other members away.
Sometimes he distracted them with random conversations.
Sometimes he simply stood near the door so no one else would wander inside.
One afternoon Sunghoon tried to walk back into the waiting room to grab his phone.
Jake casually stepped in front of him.
“You left it earlier?” Jake asked.
“Yeah.”
“I think I saw it in the practice room.”
Sunghoon frowned slightly.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Sunghoon shrugged and turned around.
Jake exhaled quietly once he left.
Inside the waiting room, you and Beomgyu remained blissfully unaware of Jake’s silent protection.
The truth was that Jake didn’t feel bothered by the secret at all.
If anything, he thought it was kind of sweet.
Beomgyu sunbaenim always looked noticeably happier when he talked to you, and you always smiled in a way that looked softer and more relaxed whenever he entered the room.
Jake had no intention of exposing that. So he helped.
For almost two weeks everything went perfectly.
Whenever Beomgyu slipped into the waiting room while you were alone, Jake somehow managed to steer the others somewhere else.
Sometimes he dragged Ni-ki to watch Tiktok videos in another room.
Sometimes he asked Jungwon for help checking whether he was doing the choreography right.
Sometimes he distracted the members with snacks or random questions.
At one point Jay even gave him a suspicious look.
“You’re being weird today.”
Jake laughed awkwardly.
“Am I?”
“Yeah.”
Jay narrowed his eyes.
Jake changed the subject immediately.
Unfortunately, even Jake couldn’t control everything.
One evening during a busy rehearsal day, the waiting room finally emptied after the members headed to stage rehearsal. You stayed behind to organize costume pieces on the rack.
A minute later the door opened quietly.
Beomgyu stepped inside.
“You’re getting predictable,” you said without turning around.
“You’re getting used to it,” he replied.
You glanced over your shoulder, immediately smiling despite yourself.
“You’re supposed to be busy.”
“I am busy.”
“Then why are you here?”
He walked closer, leaning casually against the styling table.
“Important reasons.”
“Such as?”
“You.”
You rolled your eyes even though your cheeks warmed.
“That answer is suspicious.”
He grinned.
“You still like it.”
Your hands moved nervously as you folded one of the jackets.
“You shouldn’t come here so often.”
“You say that every time.”
“And you ignore it every time.”
He stepped closer until you were standing only a foot apart.
“I missed you,” he said softly.
Your heart softened instantly.
“…You saw me yesterday.”
“Yesterday is a long time.”
You tried to stay serious.
“This is dangerous.”
“No one’s here.”
“That’s what you always say.”
He reached out and gently caught your wrist, pulling you closer before you could argue.
Your back rested against the costume rack as his arms wrapped loosely around your waist.
“Just one minute,” he murmured.
“You said that yesterday too.”
“And it worked yesterday.”
Your resistance faded quickly.
You leaned forward and kissed him softly.
The kiss deepened almost immediately.
Neither of you noticed the door handle turning.
Outside in the hallway, Sunghoon had been looking for his stage gloves.
Jake spotted him heading toward the waiting room and instantly moved.
“Hyung,” Jake said quickly.
Sunghoon stopped.
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t you leave your gloves in the studio?”
Sunghoon shook his head.
“No, I left them here.”
Jake’s brain stalled.
“…Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Sunghoon stepped past him.
Jake tried again.
“I can help you look—”
But the door was already opening.
Inside the waiting room, you and Beomgyu separated instantly when the door swung open. But he couldn’t react fast enough to step away from you, one arm still caging you against the dressing table.
Sunghoon froze in the doorway.
For a moment no one spoke.
Your brain stopped working.
Beomgyu blinked slowly.
“…Hi.”
Sunghoon stared at both of you.
Then his gaze dropped briefly to the way Beomgyu’s arm was still loosely around your waist.
“…Oh.”
You wanted the floor to swallow you whole.
“I can explain,” you blurted.
Sunghoon blinked again.
“You’re dating?”
Your face burned.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“A while now.”
Sunghoon considered this calmly.
Then he nodded.
“…Cool.”
You stared at him.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
He walked into the room and grabbed his gloves from the table like nothing unusual had happened.
Then he glanced back at you.
“Don’t worry,” he said casually. “I won’t tell anyone.”
At that exact moment Jake slowly appeared in the doorway behind him, looking extremely guilty.
Sunghoon noticed him.
Jake avoided eye contact.
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly.
“…You knew?”
Jake coughed.
“…Maybe.”
Sunghoon smirked. Then he left the room without another word.
The door closed.
You turned toward Jake with wide eyes.
“You knew?”
Jake raised both hands defensively.
“I was helping!”
Beomgyu burst out laughing.
“Helping?”
“I tried to stop him from coming in!” Jake protested.
You buried your face in your hands.
“This is a disaster.”
Jake shook his head.
“No, it’s fine. Sunghoon hyung won’t tell anyone.”
For a while, he was right.
Sunghoon kept the secret.
But now there were two people watching you and Beomgyu with quiet amusement.
Jake continued trying to help whenever he could.
Whenever Beomgyu arrived backstage, Jake subtly guided the others away again.
Sunghoon even joined the effort sometimes, casually dragging Ni-ki or Jay into random conversations whenever Beomgyu slipped into the waiting room.
For a short while the system worked again. But secrets inside a group that spends almost 24/7 with one another rarely stayed hidden forever.
The next person to figure it out was Ni-ki.
One afternoon he walked down the hallway toward the waiting room just as Jake stepped in front of him.
“Where are you going?” Jake asked quickly.
“My jacket.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
Ni-ki narrowed his eyes.
“Why?”
Jake hesitated.
“…Because I’m… nearer?”
Ni-ki leaned slightly to peek past him.
Through the slightly open door he saw Beomgyu standing very close to you near the styling table, you giggling at something he said and smacking his chest lightly.
Ni-ki slowly grinned.
“…Oh.”
Jake groaned quietly.
Ni-ki never exposed you.
Instead he started teasing Jake.
“Hyung, you’re a terrible bodyguard,” he whispered one day.
After that the secret began spreading naturally.
Jay noticed when Jake and Sunghoon kept standing by the waiting room door when they were talking.
Heeseung noticed when Ni-ki kept smirking every time Beomgyu appeared.
Jungwon noticed when all three of them started exchanging knowing looks.
Eventually the realization spread through the entire group.
No one announced it.
They simply knew. And they began teasing you very subtly.
Whenever Beomgyu walked into the waiting room, someone would casually comment.
“Sunbaenim visits us a lot lately.”
Or
“Our stylist seems very popular today.”
One afternoon Jungwon looked at you very seriously while adjusting his stage jacket.
“Please take good care of our senior.”
You blinked in confusion.
“…What?”
“He seems very attached.”
The room erupted with quiet laughter.
Your face turned red instantly.
Across the room Beomgyu looked completely delighted.
Later that evening when the members left again for their performance, you crossed your arms and glared at him.
“This is your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You keep coming here.”
“They like me.”
“They’re teasing me.”
“They’re teasing us.”
He stepped closer with that familiar mischievous smile.
“They’re also keeping our secret.”
You sighed reluctantly.
“…That’s true.”
His hand found yours briefly.
“You got a job you enjoy doing,” he said softly.
“And now I get to see you all the time.”
You tried not to smile.
“That might be the real reason you keep visiting.”
“Maybe.”
He leaned closer and kissed you quickly.
From the hallway Jake’s voice called out dramatically.
“Get a room already!”
The members burst into laughter outside.
You covered your face in embarrassment while Beomgyu laughed beside you.
And even though everyone knew now, somehow the secret still felt safe.