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The worst thing about Martin’s hair is that Seonghyeon can’t even blame the stylists for it.
Because yes, the stylists absolutely did something evil. Criminal, honestly. They bleached it that soft honey blonde that catches stage lights like spun gold, trimmed it into those airy layers that brush against his jaw and neck just enough to make him look unfairly pretty from every angle, and somehow made it look soft enough that Seonghyeon keeps having deeply concerning thoughts about running his fingers through it.
But the real problem is Martin himself.
The way he wears it. Like it’s nothing.
Like he didn’t wake up one morning and decide to become the final boss of Seonghyeon’s emotional stability.
The first time Seonghyeon sees it under proper lighting, he almost walks into a wall.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
“Hyung—”
thud.
There’s a very solid, very real wall backstage, and Seonghyeon meets it shoulder-first because his eyes are occupied—fully, hopelessly fixated on the reflection in the mirror across the hallway.
Martin is sitting in the makeup chair.
Martin, with his hair.
Blond.
Longer. Softer. It falls around his face in wispy layers that frame his cheekbones like they were handcrafted by someone whose sole purpose in life was ruining Seonghyeon specifically. The stylist standing behind him gently fluffs the ends while another adjusts the lighting around the mirror, and Martin tilts his head slightly, studying himself with quiet curiosity.
He looks—
He looks insane.
Not insane bad but insanely devastating.
Like he's not human but some otherworldly celestial being sent to torture Seonghyeon specifically.
“…You good?” Keonho asks slowly from beside him.
Seonghyeon doesn’t answer. Couldn't utter a reply because Martin smiles.
It’s tiny. Barely there. Just the corners of his lips lifting as if he’s secretly pleased with it despite trying to act casual. His eyes soften, warm and crinkling slightly at the edges, and then—somehow impossibly worse—his ears start turning pink.
Seonghyeon feels his soul physically detach from his body.
“I’m not good,” he whispers.
Keonho follows his stare.
“…Oh,” he says after a moment. “Oh, you’re gone gone.”
“I need everyone to stop talking to me.”
Keonho bursts out laughing so loudly one of the makeup artists looks over.
Seonghyeon contemplates quitting the industry.
It gets worse.
Oh It gets so much worse.
Because now promotions for “REDRED” have officially started, which means Martin is suddenly everywhere all the time.
Backstage? Martin.
Practice room? Martin.
Music shows? Martin.
Ending fairies? Martin.
Martin under bright stage lights while sweat dampens the blond strands just enough for them to cling to his forehead and neck in ways that should honestly be illegal
And the thing is—
Martin doesn’t even know what he’s doing. That’s the true tragedy here.
He just exists casually, completely unaware he’s causing active psychological damage.
He laughs too loudly during recordings. He talks with his hands when he gets excited. He leans into people without noticing and he squishes his face into the couch cushions when he’s tired.
He steals fries off Seonghyeon’s tray while saying “just one” and then takes six.
And worst of all—
“Hyeon!”
—he says Seonghyeon’s nickname like it belongs to him.
Like it’s natural as if Seonghyeon isn’t fighting for his life every single time.
Seonghyeon is going to combust.
Actually combust. There will be smoke.
“Say it again,” Juhoon says, already miming holding a bucket of popcorn.
“I said I’m fine,” Seonghyeon snaps.
“You’ve been staring at him for ten straight minutes.”
“I’m observing.”
“Observing his scalp?” Keonho snorts. “Because your eyes haven’t moved from his hair.”
Seonghyeon clenches his jaw.
Across the waiting room, Martin is sitting cross-legged on the couch beside James, laughing at something so hard his entire body folds forward. His hair falls into his eyes and he pushes it back absently, fingers combing through the soft golden strands before tucking them behind his ear.
Seonghyeon physically has to look down at the floor.
“Oh my God,” he mutters, covering his face with both hands.
Juhoon leans forward immediately, delighted. “You know what’s crazy?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“I think he likes you too.”
Seonghyeon freezes. Then very slowly lowers his hands.
“No.”
“Yeah,” Keonho says, suddenly invested. “Actually now that I think about it, he does look at you weird.”
“He does not.”
“He literally does,” Juhoon insists. “Like a while ago when we were laughing over something, he immediately checked for your reaction."
“That’s normal.”
“That is not normal,” Keonho says. “That’s crushing behavior. Shouldn't you know that since you love watching random psychological facts from ig reels?"
“You’re both insane.”
“Okay,” Juhoon says. “Then explain why he always sits next to you.”
“He sits next to everyone.”
“No, he sits next to you and then accidentally ends up touching you for forty-five minutes.”
“That’s because Keonho hogs all the space when we sit, his annoying legs take up all the space,” Seonghyeon shoots back.
Juhoon gasps. “Wow. Defensive.”
“I’m not defensive.”
“You just called his hair life-ruining under your breath five minutes ago.”
Seonghyeon opens his mouth then closes it.
“…That’s unrelated.”
“Sure.”
“It is.”
“Mhm.”
“I hate all of you.”
“We know,” Keonho says cheerfully. “Now keep staring at your boyfriend.”
“He is not my boyfriend.”
Across the room, as if summoned by sheer emotional distress, Martin looks over directly at him.
Their eyes meet.
Seonghyeon immediately jerks his gaze away so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash.
Juhoon collapses sideways in laughter.
“OH MY GOD. Dude you're a loss cause”
—
Meanwhile, on the opposite couch—
“Why does Hyeon keep looking at me like that?” Martin asks quietly.
James hums thoughtfully without looking up from his phone. “Like what?”
“Like…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Like I personally offended him.”
James glances over.
Seonghyeon is very obviously pretending not to stare while failing catastrophically.
“…Interesting,” James says.
“That’s not an answer.”
“No idea.”
“Hyung.”
James finally looks at him properly, amusement flickering across his face. “Did you ever consider that maybe he just thinks you’re pretty?”
Martin nearly chokes on air.
“What?”
James shrugs.
Martin stares at him for several seconds before instinctively glancing back across the room.
Unfortunately, Seonghyeon also chooses that exact moment to look over again.
Their eyes meet and it was Seonghyeon who instantly looks away.
Martin’s ears turn bright red.
“…Oh.”
James smiles faintly. “There it is.”
“No.”
“Mhm.”
"I hate you starting now!"
Martin opted as a weak response as he presses his lips together, trying very hard not to smile.
And fails.
By day four of promotions, Seonghyeon has reached his limit.
Because there is only so much a man can endure.
And Seonghyeon has endured:
Martin brushing past him in narrow hallways while saying “sorry, Hyeon” softly against his shoulder.
Martin sitting beside him during touch-ups until their knees bump together for twenty uninterrupted minutes.
Martin absentmindedly playing with the ends of his own hair while talking.
Martin leaning over him to look at lyrics on his phone.
Martin laughing into Seonghyeon’s shoulder during recordings.
Martin existing.
He is weak and is only a human.
He is tired and something itches inside him to do something about it once and for all.
Fuck it.
“Hyung.”
Martin turns at the sound of his voice. “Hm?”
The hallway outside the dressing rooms is unusually quiet. Staff members are busy elsewhere, music muffled through closed doors, distant chatter echoing faintly from down the corridor.
For once, it almost feels private.
Seonghyeon’s heartbeat is so loud he’s convinced Martin can hear it.
Martin blinks at him curiously, tilting his head a little, the motion making his hair shifts softly against his cheeks.
Seonghyeon nearly blacks out.
“Do you…” he starts, then immediately forgets every functioning thought in his brain. “Do you like your hair?”
Martin pauses then smiles shyly.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think so.”
“…It looks good.”
“Oh.”
The blush spreads across Martin’s cheeks instantly.
“Thanks.”
Silence settles between them.
Seonghyeon should leave now.
Actually, he should’ve left thirty seconds ago.
Instead he stays rooted in place, staring at Martin while something warm and terrifying expands in his chest.
Because this isn’t just Martin, his group member.
Not really.
This is Martin Edwards Park.
His first friend.
The first person who ever approached him back when they were trainees and Seonghyeon could barely string together a sentence without stumbling over himself nervously
Back then, Seonghyeon had spent most of his days hovering awkwardly at the edges of practice rooms, too shy to start conversations and too intimidated to approach anyone first.
And then Martin had walked right up to him one afternoon holding two sports drinks and grinned like they’d known each other forever.
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he’d said casually. “Want one?”
That was it.
No awkwardness nor any hint of hesitation.
Just Martin being Martin.
Bright and warm and easy.
After that, Martin became woven into every important memory Seonghyeon had from those years.
Sleepless nights practicing choreography until sunrise.
Sharing cheap convenience store ramen at two in the morning.
Making stupid songs together instead of sleeping.
Laughing so hard in the studio they got scolded for being too loud.
And then the harder memories too.
The evaluations.The pressure.
The crying.
Seonghyeon still remembers the first time he broke down after a brutal monthly evaluation, humiliated and exhausted and convinced he’d never be good enough to debut.
He remembers hiding in one of the empty practice rooms afterward, trying to cry quietly.
And he remembers Martin finding him anyway as if he has his own personal Seonghyeon gpt attached to him.
Martin, who sat beside him without saying anything at first.
Martin, whose own hands had been shaking too.
Martin, who was still just a kid himself but reached over anyway, holding onto Seonghyeon’s hand tightly while patting his hair awkwardly.
“We’re gonna make it,” Martin had whispered fiercely despite his trembling voice. “Okay? We’re gonna debut together.”
And they did.
They really did.
Someone as amazing as Martin deserves to know they’re loved loudly.
Without hesitation. Without fear.
As if sensing something shifting inside Seonghyeon, Martin doesn’t move away either.
They just stand there, looking at each other.
Seonghyeon swallows hard.
“It’s distracting.”
Martin blinks. “…Distracting?”
“Yeah.”
“In a bad way?”
His ears are completely red now.
Seonghyeon exhales slowly.
This is it. Either he says it now or suffers forever.
“In a very bad-for-my-heart way.”
Martin goes utterly still.
“…Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“…Oh.”
Seonghyeon laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh. That’s kind of my problem right now. My very big, very Martin-shaped problem.”
Martin stares at him.
And then—
He laughs.
Soft and bright and disbelieving.
Seonghyeon blinks in confusion. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because,” Martin says, stepping closer, “I thought it was one-sided.”
Seonghyeon stops breathing.
“…What?”
“I thought you didn’t feel the same,” Martin admits quietly. “You always look away when I catch you staring, so I thought maybe I was making you uncomfortable.”
Seonghyeon looks genuinely horrified.
“I look away because I’ll combust if I don’t.”
Martin’s eyes widen slightly.
“…Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“…Oh.”
They stare at each other for another second.
Then simultaneously—
“That’s so stupid.”
Both of them freeze. Then burst into laughter at the exact same time.
The kind that leaves them breathless and grinning helplessly at each other.
Around the corner, three heads peek out from behind the wall.
“I told you, ” Juhoon whispers triumphantly.
Keonho is clutching his sleeve so hard it probably hurts. “Ugh i can't even lie, that was cute."
James looks deeply unsurprised. “Nature is healing. I feel like a proud father”
“Should we leave?”
“Yeah, actually. Before I witness them kiss." Juhoon answers in a deadpan tone
"Ew eww let's leave dude!" Keonho supplied, faking a gag
Back in the hallway, Seonghyeon decided to move and reached up to tuck a strand of blond hair behind Martin's ear catching him off guard.
"Been wanting to do that since forever, you don't understand."
Martin was still staring at him with shock, though the very noticeable flush of pink from his cheeks conveys his response pretty easily.
Martin groans softly, covering his burning face with both hands. “You’re so annoying.”
“You like it.”
“…Maybe.”
Seonghyeon grins so hard his cheeks hurt.
Martin peeks at him through his fingers and immediately regrets it because somehow the grin gets even softer.
“Oh no,” Martin mutters weakly.
“What?”
“You’re looking at me like you just won something.”
“I did.”
“You did not.”
“I absolutely did,” Seonghyeon says. “I solved my very big problem.”
“And what’s that?”
Seonghyeon leans in slightly.
“You.”
Martin freezes completely. Then turns so red completely that it’s honestly impressive.
“Oh my God, stop—”
Seonghyeon laughs loudly this time, unable to help it.
Bright and happy.
Warm all the way down to his chest.
And when Martin finally lowers his hands enough to peek at him again—
Seonghyeon doesn’t look away and steals a quick kiss to his left cheek.
"EOM SEONGHYEON!"