You left your suitcase neatly by the bed, your fingers brushing once more over the note.
You're not alone.
And you believed it now.
You grabbed your bag and headed down the elevator. The lobby was calm, the morning light pouring in through wide windows. As the doors slid open, your heart skipped. A sleek black car waited just outside the entrance. The driver gave you a polite nod and opened the back door. No words exchanged — just the silent knowledge that you were expected.
The city drifted past the windows as you rode. Your hands rested in your lap, warm with the memory of text messages, confessions, and stolen rooftop kisses. But it wasn't nerves that filled you now. It was clarity.
You were going to see them again. All of them.
And you were ready to speak your truth.
The car pulled up to their hotel — more modern, taller, busy even in the early morning hours. As you stepped out, the sun caught in your hair...And there he was.
Chan. Leaning casually against the hotel wall, hands in his pockets, black hoodie unzipped just enough to show a flash of chain beneath. His eyes locked on you immediately—soft, proud, and completely dialed into you.
He stepped forward, his lips tugging into a slow smile. "Told you I'd make sure you had somewhere to land."
You laughed quietly. "You really don't miss."
His gaze lingered a little longer than it needed to. "I try not to when it comes to you."
He tilted his head toward the door. "They're all inside," he said. "Waiting."
You took a slow breath.
Chan didn't move. Didn't rush you. He just asked, low and sincere: "Are you ready?"
You looked into his eyes, steady and full of something deep and promising.
You nodded. "Yeah. I am."
He offered his hand—fingers open, waiting. And when you took it, the morning, the past, and the fear all melted behind you. You weren't walking into uncertainty. You were walking into truth.
The hotel dining room was tucked into a quiet corner—private, softly lit, and set for nine.
You noticed it instantly. Nine settings. Not eight for the members. One of them was for you. A subtle but powerful statement: you were included, expected, wanted.
As Chan gently pushed the door open, all eyes turned your way.
Felix was the first to smile. "She's here. Now we can start."
Seungmin raised his coffee like a toast. "Finally. We were about to FaceTime you from three feet away."
Han, already deep into a buttery croissant, dropped it dramatically. "THANK god. My ears are still ringing from last night. I was worried I'd dreamt you."
You smiled, sliding into your seat—the one placed carefully beside Chan, directly across from Hyunjin and Lee Know.
"I'm still ringing too," you said playfully to Han. "But mine's mostly from your constant yelling."
"Powerful vocals, actually," he replied, full of mock offense. "But whatever."
Laughter broke the tension. Even Hyunjin gave a small grin behind his mug, and Lee Know quirked a brow, watching you.
Chan hadn't said much yet, but his hand rested quietly on the back of your chair, thumb brushing against your shoulder. It grounded you.
When the conversation lulled again, you gently cleared your throat. "I know we've joked a lot already this morning," you said softly, "but before we really dive in... there's something I want to say."
The table stilled. All eight of them looked at you.
You met Hyunjin's gaze first, then Lee Know's. They didn't flinch. They didn't hide.
"I felt something real with you," you began. "Not just chemistry or attraction. You let me see you—your quiet moments, your thoughts—and that matters to me."
They stayed still, listening.
"But I also have to be honest with my heart," you continued, voice steady. "Because I felt something different with someone else. Something that reached deeper. That didn't ask for attention, but made me want to give it."
Your eyes turned to Chan. He didn't blink.
"I care about all of you," you went on, your voice fuller now. "More than I expected. And I want to be someone you can turn to. Someone who sees you—not for the stages or the lights, but for who you are when the world isn't watching."
A pause.
Then: "That's why I'm not leaving today. I'm staying one more night. I need time to figure this out—not to run from it."
It hung in the air like the softest echo. And then—
Hyunjin smiled, slow and sure. "Then stay. We already knew your heart was good."
Lee Know nodded once. "Better an honest goodbye than a false beginning. But... it doesn't feel like goodbye."
Felix leaned over and gently clinked his juice glass against your coffee. "Here's to one more night."
Chan turned his hand palm-up beneath the table. You slid your fingers into his. His thumb rubbed a slow, steady circle over yours.
And he whispered, so only you could hear: "Thank you for choosing truth."
The air around the table had changed — softer, warmer, lighter. The moment of honesty had passed... and it left behind something rare.
Ease.
Now, plates clinked, laughter rippled, and the ninth seat — your seat — was no longer a question mark. It just fit.
Han was the first to reset the mood with a dramatic groan. "Okay, okay, we all love each other now, but if someone doesn't pass me more butter for this pancake tower, I will cry."
"You've already had three," Seungmin deadpanned, sliding the plate over anyway.
Felix leaned toward you with a grin. "You should've seen Han last night after the show. He stripped down to boxers, screamed into a pillow, then demanded hot tea and a foot massage."
"I WAS CELEBRATING!" Han shouted.
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your fork.
Hyunjin, clearly more relaxed now, leaned back in his chair and gestured across the table. "It's weird. You don't feel new anymore."
"She never did," Lee Know said simply, then took a sip of his coffee.
That quiet truth made your chest flutter.
I.N suddenly tapped his phone against the table. "Can we take a photo? Like an actual breakfast selfie? I want to remember this."
"Only if you promise not to post it until she's back on base," Chan said, eyes flicking to you with a grin. "She's got a real job, remember?"
"A very cool job," Felix added proudly. "Disaster queen."
You laughed. "Emergency Management, thank you very much."
"Right, right," Seungmin nodded. "Still sounds cooler than 'professional noise-maker.'"
"Hey—" Han narrowed his eyes, "—my noise is ART."
Phones were pulled out, arms leaned across plates, and before you knew it, you were caught between Felix's sunshine, Chan's warmth, and Hyunjin's hair strategically flipped to perfection.
The shutter clicked. Then clicked again. And again. The ninth seat was no longer an extra. It was part of the story. And in that fleeting, joyful moment, you weren't just the person they'd met by accident. You were someone they'd come to care for. Maybe even trust.
Side Conversations
Breakfast was winding down, laughter echoing even as plates were cleared and coffee mugs emptied. You had just stood to stretch when you felt a gentle tap on your arm.
Lee Know. He nodded toward a quiet corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Come here a sec?"
You followed him without hesitation.
He leaned back against the glass, arms crossed, eyes on the city below. You stood beside him, close but careful.
"I just wanted to say it to you directly," he said, voice calm. "Not in front of the others."
You nodded, waiting.
He turned his head toward you, gaze steady. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Your throat tightened.
"I felt something with you," he admitted. "And yeah... for a second, I wondered if it could go further. But what I appreciated more than anything was how present you were. You saw me — and didn't look away."
You blinked slowly, your voice soft. "Because there was so much worth seeing."
His lips curved slightly. "Maybe we weren't meant for a 'what if'... but I'm glad we were a right now."
You smiled. "Me too."
Lee Know nodded, pushed off the window, and gave you a small nudge with his shoulder. "You know where to find me, if you ever want to just... be seen again."
And then he walked away — no regret, no weight. Just respect.
Before you could fully settle back in, another presence appeared at your side.
Hyunjin. He didn't say anything at first — just gave you a look and a small motion toward the hallway. You followed, this time stepping into a sunlit space with plants, cushions, and a soft breeze drifting through an open window.
He sat on the low windowsill, his long legs stretched out in front of him. You sat beside him, not quite touching.
He looked ahead, voice low. "You know... I write a lot of things I never show anyone."
You turned to him. "Like poems?"
He smiled, faint and beautiful. "Yeah. Words that don't know what they are until I say them out loud."
You waited.
"I wrote one last night," he said. "After the show. After... you."
Your heart thudded.
"I won't read it to you," he added with a tiny laugh. "Not yet. But it was about finding light in a place that wasn't looking for it. And how, even when that light chooses another path... you still remember how it felt when it touched you."
Silence stretched between you.
Then he looked at you directly, eyes glassy but strong. "I'm not sad," he said. "Just... full."
You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met."
He smiled — soft and a little broken in the best way. "You made me feel like one."
Then, with slow, graceful motion, he reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered on your cheek for just a second.
"I'm glad you stayed."
"I'm glad you let me in."
And that was it.
He stood, gently kissed my forehead, and walked away, sunlight clinging to his silhouette like a memory you'd never want to forget.
The hallway was quiet as you turned the corner from your moment with Hyunjin. You weren't sure where to go next — your heart still full, your mind still untangling emotions.
But then you saw him.
Chan, leaning against the wall near the elevators, hood up, hands in his pockets, gaze down. Like he was waiting. Like he knew you'd come.
He looked up when he sensed your steps, and something softened in his face.
No words at first. Just that look — steady, certain, safe.
You stopped in front of him, arms crossing lightly. "Were you standing here the whole time?"
"Not the whole time," he said, voice low, playful. "Just long enough to know I couldn't leave without you."
Your smile faltered into something more sincere. "I talked to both of them."
"I know," he said gently. "I saw."
You looked up at him, searching his face. "Are you okay with how I handled it?"
He stepped closer, not hesitating. "I'm more than okay. I'm proud of you."
Your breath hitched slightly at the weight of his words.
"You didn't run from it," he added. "You stood in front of three people with open hearts and still managed to stay whole."
Your voice cracked. "I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"You didn't." He brushed his fingers across your arm, trailing down to your wrist. "You healed something. In them. In me."
You reached out and took his hand, fingers curling into his. "Can we get out of here?" you whispered.
He nodded immediately. "Yeah. Come on."
He didn't take you far — just up one more floor to the rooftop patio of the hotel. Fewer lights than the stage, but enough to let you both breathe.
You walked out together, side by side, until you reached the edge of the stone barrier. The city stretched out before you, and it felt familiar now — not just a skyline, but a witness to everything you'd shared over the past day.
Chan leaned beside you, shoulder brushing yours. "So... what now?" you asked softly.
He tilted his head toward you. "Now? I get to enjoy this time with you. Really enjoy it. No more wondering. No more waiting."
You turned to face him, only inches away. He reached out slowly, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. "And maybe," he added, thumb brushing under your eye, "I get to do this without holding back."
You leaned into his palm. "Then stop holding back."
He smiled — low, soft, undeniable. And kissed you. This kiss wasn't like the rooftop.
It wasn't filled with questions. It was full of answers. Full of choice. Full of you and him, finally breathing in sync.
When you pulled back, foreheads pressed, he whispered, "I'm glad you stayed."
You nodded. "I'm not sure what happens after tomorrow... but I'm not afraid of it anymore."
His hand slipped into yours again. "With you," he murmured, "it's simple. And I'll take simple over perfect... every time."