Archive of Our Own

“Ah, Mingyu-yah. Everyone is in love with you,” Seungcheol says. She maybe sounds a little bit whiny, her bottom lip forming a perfectly glossy pout. She’s scrolling on her phone and her eyes are flitting back and forth as she reads endless words from the people commenting on their debut trailer. Mingyu has half a mind to tell Seungcheol that it doesn’t seem like the healthiest behavior when curiosity also gets the best of her. 

“No, they’re not…” she denies, blushing, but still leaning over to peek at the screen.

“Are you really going to pretend like you haven’t been the most popular person at the label since you started training?” Hansol asks, unaffected and factual as she looks out the car window, though there isn’t much to see. 

It’s a little after 3 in the morning, and even darker outside than it would usually be due to some lingering rainclouds dampening the full moon’s light. 

“That isn’t true!” Mingyu cries as her blush intensifies. “Do you know how many people I’ve seen talk about Wonwoo’s charm? Especially because she likes video games. All the gamer boys want her.”

There’s a sudden loud, visceral gagging sound that comes from the back row of the car that makes everyone turn to her. Even their driver eyes them through the rearview mirror, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

“Sorry, I just hated being reminded of that,” Wonwoo says, averting her eyes back to her own phone screen, lit up with bright colors from one of the numerous mobile games she plays. 

Mingyu rolls her eyes. While Wonwoo also has a reputation for being the ‘most nonchalant’ of the group, it certainly does not exclude her from being a drama queen at times. 

“You’re an idol. You’re supposed to want fans,” Mingyu says, watching as Wonwoo picks at a tiny pimple on her chin, completely expecting it when Seungcheol smacks her hand away. 

“I know it’s early and we’re all tired, but try to remember where we’re going,” Seungcheol chastises, light but definitely firm. They aren’t far now from the studio where The Show is filmed, and Mingyu is starting to feel a little jittery over it. 

Or maybe a lot jittery. 

She probably shouldn’t feel this nervous, if she’s being honest with herself. She’s been working toward this moment for nearly four years, and it’s finally going to start paying off, so she should be excited and ready to prove herself. 

It’s that second part that scares her. 

She takes a deep breath. 

“Unnie?” she asks, twisting her body once again to look at Seungcheol sitting behind her. “We’re gonna do well, right?”

“Mingyu, I am convinced you could do your verse and all the choreography in your sleep at this point. It’s gonna go well. You have nothing to worry about.”

Mingyu raises both of her eyebrows skeptically. 

“Okay, you have nothing about the performance to worry about. But don’t even think about the ‘what if’ scenarios. We’ll deal with everything else if and when we need to. Right, everyone?” Seungcheol asks expectantly, smiling when all three of the other girls respond in the affirmative. 

“Aren’t you ready to show off by now?” Hansol asks, breaking the tension as Mingyu pinches her arm in retaliation. She reaches over and pulls out the wired earbud feeding Hansol music too obscure for Mingyu to have even heard of before. 

“You’re one to talk, Hansollie. I know which fans like you,” Mingyu says, not coming out with the actual words, but still implying heavily enough that their driver once again makes rearview mirror eye contact. 

“It’s a pretty sweet demographic,” Hansol agrees, nodding as they pull up to the studio’s special entrance. They get out of the car and Mingyu narrowly misses getting her shoes wet in a huge puddle right outside the door, but she dances around it in a way that could almost look intentional. 

The rush into hair and makeup is to be expected at this point, and Mingyu has gone through the process dozens of times now, but the unglamorous nature of it still manages to strike her. There are members of other groups somewhat divided from each other in the room, but otherwise all gathered, some already fully made-up and dressed while others — like Mingyu — are just getting started. 

She tries not to move around too much while one of the makeup artists airbrushes little red heart outlines onto the apple of her cheek, but she’s desperate to find a familiar face somewhere in the crowd she’s slowly sinking into. But there’s nobody. 

Her own group members are sequestered away to their own chairs, eyes closed as their faces are painted. She’s about to start freaking out a little when her own makeup artist tells her to close her eyes. 

“You can listen to your music, you know?” the woman says to her in a soft voice, like anything louder will startle Mingyu. “You seem nervous.”

Mingyu wrings her hands together, again, trying not to move too much, trying not to make this woman’s job any more difficult than it already is, but she feels a little bead of sweat building up in her hairline. 

“Um,” is all Mingyu says, and without any elaboration at all, her forehead is being blotted with a tissue. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is your first time here, right?” 

Mingyu nods, getting the distinct feeling that if she speaks the words will just come out jumbled. 

“Everyone is nervous the first time. I’m sure you’ll do great, Mingyu-ssi.”

“Thank you,” Mingyu says, unsure if this woman she just met knows just how much those words mean to her. 

They finish with her hair and makeup, and from there it’s a quick push from the somewhat cramped room to a small stage. As soon as they’re out, the four of them are met with screams and cheers, and Mingyu is secretly pleased that feminine voices seem to drown out any masculine presence. They take their positions as they wait for their music cues to begin, and from where she is, Mingyu can see a girl in the front row, mouthing her name over and over and making a heart with her hands. 

Mingyu smiles and waves, and she doesn’t know how to feel when the girl screams and jumps with her friend in excitement at just being acknowledged. 

This is their first performance. 

This is the first time anyone is going to hear their music, aside from a very short teaser uploaded to their YouTube channel, and already, she has someone in front of her that looks like she’s on the verge of passing out. All because of a little wave. 

She doesn’t have much time to think about it though because mere moments later, the music starts, and Mingyu hardly has time to think about anything after that. She’s not even sure if she’s thinking about her lyrics or the dance moves she’s supposed to be doing, moving completely on autopilot. The only thing that gets through the daze is the feeling of her own shoes connecting with the floor, miraculously staying on beat despite her mind feeling totally blank. 

Mingyu gets through her verse.

She sings her part of the chorus.

She manages the short dance break during the bridge without tripping over her own feet. 

And then it’s over. 

The performance is complete, and Mingyu just barely remembers that she should be making eye contact with the camera and doing something cute, something sexy, just something. She decides to wink and pout her lips and secretly hopes that whoever’s editing this performance considers leaving her ending fairy out of the final cut for the broadcast.  

She waves to a few more fans, puts her hands over her heart as they chant her name before they’re all directed backstage once again. Now that it’s all over, Mingyu can’t believe the kind of time and effort that goes into something that’s over so quickly. She can’t believe a crowd of people was her to see her (and her friends) at such a ridiculously early hour, just to see them perform the same song twice, and that’s it. 

She can’t believe they’re going to do it five more times. 

“Holy shit, that was crazy,” Mingyu can’t stop herself from saying. The words slightly echo in the hallway, and her group members all turn to look at her, Seungcheol giving her a disapproving look. 

“Don’t talk like that right now. You can be excited and have good etiquette,” she reprimands Mingyu. Mingyu frowns and Seungcheol’s face softens. 

“How’s your ankle?” she asks instead of dwelling on the subject for longer. 

“It’s fine, unnie. It’s literally been like a year already, so you don’t need to keep asking me about it.”

“You’re more likely to injure an ankle again after you’ve had one injury. It’s like the most commonly recurring injury. I just need to make sure you’re okay and not pushing yourself.” 

“It was one song. I think I can handle one song,” Mingyu emphasizes. She’s even wearing sneakers unlike Seungcheol and Hansol who are sporting reasonably sized platforms (She tried not to internalize that decision too much). 

While she’s lost in her thoughts about footwear, and exactly why their stylists don’t want to make her any taller than she already is, she ends up doing the exact thing Seungcheol (and Wonwoo. And Hansol ) warned her about constantly back at their own company building.

Arms catch Mingyu around her waist, but that doesn’t stop her from crying out in fear as she nearly tumbles to the floor.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay? I’m so sorry,” Mingyu says once she finds her footing, removing herself from the pair of arms so that she can bow in apology.

“It’s fine, relax.”

The voice is familiar, though Mingyu knows she’s never held a conversation with–

“Jihoonie.” Mingyu’s face goes completely red as she struggles to correct herself. 

“Lee Jihoon-ssi! I mean…” 

Jihoon’s face is unreadable, and rightfully so after being accosted by a total stranger. 

“Jihoon-ah!” someone yells from down the hall where Mingyu just came from. “We need to be on stage.”

“Coming,” Jihoon answers, walking in the direction of the voice and saying absolutely nothing to Mingyu despite her attempts to apologize. 

When Jihoon is out of sight, Mingyu has no choice but to meet the gaze of her group members. 

“I'm sorry!” she says, embarrassed as she walks back into the dressing room, not able to withstand their stares or the way Seungcheol will probably scold her again.

Luckily, Seungcheol doesn't bring it up, even on the car ride back to their dorm. Mingyu is spared by the fact that they have a million other things to worry about. They all try to get rest before they have to head back to the studio for the live broadcast, and on top of that, they have interviews and photoshoots to schedule for what feels like the entire foreseeable future. Everyone is pulling them in a million different directions, and their managers are constantly running new things by them. Sometimes it feels impossible for them to manage as just four human beings. 

Mingyu tries not to be overwhelmed by the huge list of things and events and concepts, and instead closes her eyes and starts feeling mortified all over again. 

She can't believe that her first semi-public interaction with another idol outside of their label was such a disaster. She can't believe she said sorry twice and Lee Jihoon said ‘relax’ in return. She can’t believe she barreled her awkward, 178 cm tall body into Lee Jihoon. 

She walks into her bedroom and immediately faceplants into her bed, kicking her legs to try and get the bad feeling out of her chest. Mingyu knows that there’s no way that it was as bad as she’s recalling it now, and if she just keeps that in mind then things will be fine. She can get rid of this energy if she just stops overthinking for long enough to lull herself to sleep.

Hours pass by with no such thing occurring. 

She ‘wakes up’ and eats with what feels like a burning blush still on her cheeks, goes through her wardrobe extensively looking for an outfit to wear despite knowing she will have to change once she gets back to the studio, swipes through the apps on her phone a countless number of times, anything to forget the interaction she had hours prior. 

The rest of her alleged free time goes by in a blur, and before she knows it, they’re back at the studio for the live broadcast, and Mingyu is suddenly faced with the concept of needing to face Lee Jihoon once again, only this time on stage, in public, in front of dozens of fans and even more through their screens. She shivers in the makeup chair, although this look is a lot less involved than the previous, so she’s at least sparing a poor makeup artist from dealing with her for too long, only telling her to stop moving twice before Mingyu gets it and freezes where she’s sitting. 

The live broadcast is an entirely different beast than the pre-recording had been. 

There are so many people crammed onto the tiny stage, and the ringing in Mingyu’s ears is so loud that she can’t even comprehend what’s happening until it’s almost too late. The announcement that happens over the speakers is completely unintelligible to Mingyu’s brain, and so when confetti rains down from the ceiling, she has to look around in a desperate attempt to piece things together. 

Mingyu hadn’t been expecting their group to win, and she’s honestly really glad they didn’t. The breath she had been holding since they first walked out onto the stage releases slowly, her lungs deflating like balloons. She hopes the relief she feels isn’t too obvious on her face. 

She’s seen the trending hashtags and threads directed at new groups who do well, especially when they come from companies like theirs. Mingyu would tell herself that it didn’t matter and she would smile at her reflection in the trophy presented to them. In her heart though, she knows she would let the comments eat away at her, constantly wondering if they deserved it, or if it was all thanks to money and influence. 

She’s so caught up in her twisted desire to lose that she nearly forgets to bow as she’s being ushered off stage once again. She’s already more than halfway down when she makes eye contact with Lee Jihoon for the second time in her life, and her face is utterly unreadable despite the single tear running down it. As Mingyu’s eyes travel down, she notices the way Jihoon’s hand is clenched into a fist, shifting to hold a microphone that’s handed to her. 

The rest of the group is in a similar state, crying, but also hugging and smiling, clearly celebrating. Mingyu doesn’t have much time to analyze the situation before she’s backstage, listening to Echo5’s encore stage through barriers, and still able to pick out Jihoon’s voice through the ocean of sound. Somehow, it’s even more beautiful than it is in the official studio recordings. 

“Good job everyone,” Seungcheol praises them in the hall, bringing them in for a brief, but much needed group hug. “We did it.”

“Now we just need to do it like a million more times,” Hansol says, completely deadpan in a way that makes Seungcheol and Wonwoo laugh, but it mostly serves as a reality check for Mingyu. 

“Does my makeup look okay?” she asks, nonsensical after just having finished the ‘public appearance’ part of the night.

“You look fine, Mingyu-yah. Quit worrying,” Seungcheol responds, hitting Mingyu’s arm lightly. 

“I’m not worrying. I was just checking.” She wonders to herself if it’s too early to also start checking social media for responses to their performance. Mingyu knows that she did fine, and believes that they all did. 

But the need is still chewing on her nerves by the time they get home, so she pulls up every app she can think of, typing ‘4fire’ into the search bar of each of them. She smiles when she comes across posts from fans saying how proud they are, that their debut didn’t disappoint and that they’ll get their first win in no time. 

Her mistake is that she presses her luck, scrolling past the positive posts with hundreds of likes, and getting into some of the less popular ones. 

is anyone else sensing tension between jihoon and this girl? idk her name

Mingyu has to run the question through her head a few times, but alongside the very short, crudely filmed video clip clearly taken from a TV, she has context to understand it. And as the video plays on a torturous little loop, Mingyu feels a hole begin to open up in the pit of her stomach, sucking everything in and leaving her with nothing but a vague feeling of despair. 

“What is that?”

Mingyu jumps, sending her phone flying and clattering to the floor, and despite her heart racing in fear, she does still wince when it lands face down on the hardwood. She’s too shaken to immediately reach down and grab it, so it’s not surprising when Seunghcheol takes matters into her own hands. 

“Why are you on Twitter?” she asks disapprovingly, holding the phone out of reach when Mingyu lunges for it. “You shouldn’t be on Twitter.”

“I was just looking! It’s our debut, how was I supposed to just avoid all social media?” Mingyu cries, reaching for the phone again and pouting when Seungcheol still manages to keep it away. Seungcheol is acting like she hasn’t spent half her life scrolling social media to some extent. She’s not sure how she’s supposed to just stop now that she’s an idol. If anything, she anticipates it being even harder to stay offline, no matter how bad the world may be out there. 

“I told you that humans are evil,” Seungcheol stays firm, finally bringing the phone down to look at the screen when it’s clear that Mingyu is done fighting. It’s mostly that Mingyu knows Seungcheol won’t let her get out of this without some clarity about the situation, and probably a short lecture. 

When she lets the video loop another three times, Seungcheol sighs.

“Mingyu…” 

The tone of Seungcheol’s voice is enough to have Mingyu curling up on herself. She doesn’t like that she’s done wrong this soon. She thought she would have at least a couple days. 

“I was just feeling awkward! From earlier. Which I know was also my fault, but I didn’t mean for there to be ‘tension’ or anything like that,” she insists, hiding her face in her hands when she’s suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of even one person thinking she somehow has a problem with Lee Jihoon. She didn’t mean to stare with… that face. She was just trying to figure out what was happening. 

Without words, Seungcheol guides her over to a couch to sit, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and rubbing it in a soothing pattern. 

“I wanted everyone to know that we’re nice girls. We’re going to support others,” Mingyu says in despair. She doesn’t want to be pigeon-holed in this way. Just the thought of it makes her feel sick. 

“You’re still a nice girl, Mingyu-yah… You just need to be a little more careful.”

Mingyu has the feeling she’s going to be hearing that phrase for a very long time. 

“Look, Echo5 is probably going to be at Show Champion , too. Maybe you can see Jihoon-sunbaenim backstage and talk with her. Just explain that everything was an accident and that you’re a big fan.”

Somehow, fighting its way through anxiety and shame, Mingyu manages to feel flustered at the idea. 

“You think I should tell her that? Is that not weird?” she asks, trying not to give too much away, but it’s hopeless with Seungcheol. They’ve known each other since they were young girls, and the truth of the matter is that she knows Mingyu’s type without even needing to be directly told. Seungcheol raises an eyebrow but then composes herself. 

“It’s respectful to be a fan of the senior groups, Gyu-yah. And it’s not a lie. You listen to the Jihoon solo song on their last album more than any of the others.”

“That’s not—!” 

“I literally heard you singing it in the shower just the other day.”

So that’s true, but Mingyu doesn’t think Seungcheol had to just say it like that. She covers her face again, blushing so hard she feels like her skin is about to peel clean off. 

“I don’t think I can talk to her. What if I say something stupid? What if I make it worse and more people make posts?” 

Suddenly, she really wants to continue her scrolling journey, anxious to know if the post has any replies or if there are any other people taking note of the weirdness between a rookie and a senior artist. 

“This is exactly why you can’t just scroll through twitter tags. No more, got it?”

Mingyu pouts but doesn’t fight back even a little bit. She nods silently.

“Good. If you want, we can practice what you’re going to say. Pretend I’m her,” Seungcheol says with a smile much too eager to match the energy Jihoon had been emitting. Mingyu goes along with it anyway because she’s just that desperate. 

“Good evening, Jihoon-sunbaenim,” Mingyu says, attempting a bow even though she’s sitting down. 

“Mingyu-ssi,” Seungcheol responds, putting on a fake cool voice that’s hard to take seriously. 

“Do you think she knows my name?” Mingyu asks, breaking character and feeling grateful that she isn’t standing because her knees feel weak at just the idea. 

“Stay focused.”

“Right, right… Um, good evening, Jihoon-sunbaenim. I just wanted to say that your performance was beautiful, and um… I am sorry for any misunderstanding that may have happened yesterday. I am just clumsy and was feeling awkward about the interaction afterward. I hope that you can forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you, Mingyu-ssi.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, like her brain’s been tricked into believing this was the real thing. 

“You do?”

“Yes, now come here.” Seungcheol says this while gesturing for Mingyu to get closer. The moment she does, Seungcheol grabs onto her shoulders and starts making kissy noises in her face. It’s unbelievably juvenile, and yet, she’s still so embarrassed by it. 

“Stop. That’s not what’s going to happen,” Mingyu whines, hating how much a hypothetical scenario can get her heart racing. 

“You never know. You need to be prepared for anything,” Seungcheol jokes one more time before standing and pulling Mingyu up with her. 

“Now, go to sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

Sleep is, of course, an elusive thing for Mingyu. She stays true to her word about staying away from social media, but she doesn’t stay off of her phone, perusing kprofiles.com and reading over information she already knows. 

Mingyu has always been into music, and that didn’t change when she became a trainee. If anything, she only became even more aware of this particular music scene, tuning into Inkigayo and survival shows whenever she got the chance, keeping up with trends and points of interest, anything she could get her hands on, really. So it’s no surprise that at some point, she dove deep into smaller labels, less popular groups that were clearly less popular due to circumstances of chance, and not because of anything regarding their actual talent. 

Mingyu will tell anyone that she is not dramatic, but discovering Echo5 may be one of the best things that’s ever happened to her. 

She doesn’t have to scroll far for Jihoon’s profile. She’s the group leader, so she’s up top despite being right in the middle when it comes to age lines. Mingyu strokes her face through the screen before realizing how weird that is, pulling her finger back from the image, but still taking time to appreciate it. It’s a photo from their new album, and it’s all but been burned into the inside of Mingyu’s eyelids, branded like Mingyu is Jihoon’s property. 

So she maybe has a tiny crush. She thinks it would be ridiculous not to in this industry; half the job is looking hot on an otherworldly level. And Jihoon is hot. She’s absolutely everything Mingyu wants, masculine in a way that isn’t just a label desperately trying to push masculinity for the sake of a ‘concept’. She has a sexy undercut and arm muscles that are the obvious result of hours and hours at the gym. Mingyu has imagined them holding her in sickening detail. 

It just makes the entire situation that much worse. 

It’s not like Mingyu thought she actually had a chance or anything like that. Something else she knows about the industry is that trying to date is next to impossible here, and when the whole lesbian element is added to it, the probability is lowered to an almost laughable state. Mingyu had made her peace with that when she signed with their company. 

So she’s not sure why it still feels like she’s somehow fumbled her one chance at true love.

She thumbs over the search bar, ignoring how her hours of possible sleep continue dwindling the longer she stares at her phone screen, and types in ‘Echo5 interview,’ clicking on something from a little less than a month ago. 

She skips through the video introduction that she doesn’t care about, sliding through the progress bar until Jihoon’s face is on the screen again. 

“I’ve always had a good amount of freedom in the music that I produce,” she says, her deep, slightly raspy voice catching on certain syllables so deliciously that Mingyu nearly starts salivating over it. “It’s one of the privileges of working with a company like ours.”

“Even with your level of freedom, many fans are speculating that your new album will take things even further. Is there anything that you can share with the people who are practically shaking in anticipation?” 

“Jihoon unnie really went crazy in the studio,” Seokmin says, the camera focusing on the group member as she speaks. “I’ve never sung lyrics like this before, so she had to train me.” 

The words come across like a fun, playful joke, but the way Jihoon’s ears go red makes Mingyu crazy about the idea of being ‘trained’ by her. She flicks herself in the forehead to hopefully banish any ridiculous thoughts from her brain. 

“They’re not crazy, ” Jihoon insists, tugging at her ear and bringing more of Mingyu’s attention to it. “I just figured we’ve been at this for a few years now. It must be time for something fresh and new. I mostly just hope it’s something fans enjoy.” 

Mingyu can’t take anymore of it, closing the window on her phone and then finally putting the phone facedown on her nightstand. Jihoon was lying then because the lyrics are crazy, and now Mingyu potentially has five nights lined up to have to hear them, Jihoon’s voice mocking her for a week straight. 

She squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to think tired, sleepy thoughts, and not thoughts about Jihoon whispering in her ear, telling her what to do.  

—

They have two pre-recordings to finish today, almost back-to-back due to a scheduling error that might end up being the bane of Mingyu’s entire existence. While she ended up getting a semi-decent amount of sleep, it’s definitely not what Mingyu would call restful. 

She’d had a long, convoluted dream about messing up in front of Jihoon again, of being criticized and demeaned in a decidedly unsexy way, and when she woke up she mostly felt like crying. Over something that didn’t happen and wasn’t likely to ever happen, which is a pretty good indicator of her mental state right now. 

So she’s definitely tired and will need a little extra makeup to help her undereye situation, but she’s trying to make herself feel excited again. 

“Remember that we only have one debut,” Seungcheol had reminded them all before they left the dorm. “Let’s make it count.” 

And Mingyu’s doing her best to internalize it. 

Despite her dark circles and the new pimple sprouting up on the underside of her chin, makeup feels like it goes by quicker this time, and before she knows it, she’s out on stage again, waving to fans and acknowledging their cheers and hand hearts. 

This is a b-side performance, another first checked off of their idol lists, and the audience response is just as enthusiastic, if not more than it was the day before. The fanchants actually sound somewhat coordinated, and wow, does that do something weird to Mingyu’s brain. It’s like they feed into one another, battling wildfires, sparks coming into contact with each other, and it keeps Mingyu going like nothing else ever has in her life. 

It’s enough to wipe all the negative thoughts and feelings from her head, and she doesn’t even realize that Echo5 is nowhere to be seen until they’re being carted around, undressing and redressing and heading to the next studio like it’s nothing. She supposes, to many people here, it is nothing. Mingyu considers the idea of getting used to something like that and can’t wrap her head around the feeling. 

She’s in the middle of getting her makeup retouched when she hears a group of familiar voices. She can’t open her eyes until her fake eyelashes are securely glued on, and she can feel her heart rate begin to rise the longer she has to just sit there when she should be on her knees and trying to make amends. 

It feels like a million years pass by before the makeup artist finally says, “All done,” freeing Mingyu from the chair, eyes opening up and flitting around until they land on Jihoon, socked feet stepping into a well-loved pair of black slides. She’s not in the middle of a conversation, nor doing anything that Mingyu could rudely interrupt, just untangling a pair of wired headphones, so Mingyu does all but sprint in her direction.

She doesn’t want to come on too strong, but missing her opportunity is ever scarier, so she weaves in and out of any obstacle she comes across until she’s right in front of Jihoon. 

And she didn’t really have time to fully acknowledge their height difference before, but god, Mingyu practically towers over her. This information is just one of a few things that stack up in Mingyu’s head, making her mouth clumsy the same way her feet had been when they first met. 

“Um,” is the only word that comes out of Mingyu’s mouth for a handful of seconds, all while Jihoon redirects her attention from the tangled wires in her hands up to the skyscraper of a woman trying to get her attention. 

“Can I help you?” Jihoon asks, making brief eye contact before seemingly deciding the headphones are more important to look at. Mingyu tries not to feel hurt about it. 

“No! Uh, I just wanted to say sorry for stepping on you yesterday, or running into you, or whatever I did. It was all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking,” Mingyu says all at once, words coming out of her like a burst fire hydrant. Jihoon’s eyes are widened ever so slightly as she nods once, going back to her headphones again. 

“Right. No big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

Jihoon’s words are everything that Mingyu’s own words lack: clean and precise and sexy like everything else she does. It honestly isn’t fair, as in the midst of it, Mingyu realizes her own faux pas, and her heart starts beating even faster than it already was. 

“My name is Kim Mingyu, by the way,” she says, holding out her hand for Jihoon to shake, but thinking better of it when she remembers Jihoon’s fingers are preoccupied. 

“Yeah, I know,” Jihoon says. Mingyu’s knees buckle at the admission, but she tries to play it off like she’s just shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Lee Jihoon.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu mimics, though she has the mind to observe that she sounds practically starstruck while Jihoon had just sounded like she was stating a matter of fact. She could get lost trying to swim through Jihoon’s confidence in herself, the way she so easily threads her headphone cord up the front of her shirt, tossing the buds out through the stretched t-shirt collar and plugging the other side into her phone. She reaches over for her bag and looks like she’s about to head out. 

“Um, I just wanted to say…!” Mingyu throws out to hopefully stop Jihoon from just walking away from her. The problem comes when she realizes she didn’t plan a second half of the sentence. Jihoon raises an eyebrow at her, and Mingyu’s insides are suddenly swarmed by butterflies. “You’ve never looked better.” 

Mingyu could spend the rest of her life coming up with better things to say than that, she’s sure of it. Jihoon doesn’t respond to the compliment — if it can be called that. 

Mingyu pivots.

And by ‘pivot,’ she means that she goes twice as hard in the same, wrong direction. 

“I just mean that it’s really obvious you put a lot more effort into this comeback.”

Jihoon’s mouth hardens into an almost-perfectly straight line. 

“Not ‘more’ effort! Well, yes, more, because I think you’re constantly improving! But that’s not to say that you weren’t putting in effort before, because you were!”

It’s just different, Mingyu’s brain screams at her, but her mouth doesn’t take its advice. It’s a different vibe than what you normally do, and it’s been so cool to see. 

“You’re like, sexy now! It’s crazy.” 

“Right,” Jihoon says, tapping at her phone a couple times before pocketing it and finally grabbing her bag. “Well, it was nice to meet you.” 

Jihoon’s voice would imply that it was the exact opposite of ‘nice’ and Mingyu starts freaking out more than she did yesterday. She can’t just let Jihoon leave without understanding what Mingyu is trying to say. 

“I’m a huge fan,” she says as a desperate, last-ditch effort to be understood, but Jihoon just nods and waves as she walks away. And while Mingyu knows that it absolutely could have, she feels like there isn’t a single way that the whole interaction could have possibly gone worse. 

“Gyu-yah, there you are. It’s almost time for us to take our places,” Seungcheol says with a slightly panicked voice, immediately filling Mingyu with guilt (and panic of her own) for not paying attention to what’s most important here. 

“Sorry, coming!” She calls back, hoping with every last cell in her body that Seungcheol arrived too late to see her pathetic attempt at patching things up. If anything, Mingyu can at least rest assured that the topic won’t be broached until the end of the night when they’re back at the dorm. 

And back at the dorm, after a frankly exhausting day, the topic is indeed broached, but for reasons that leave Mingyu completely floored. 

“You said something to her,” Seungcheol says the second they close the front door behind them. It startles Mingyu so much she nearly drops the bag of food that they had taken a detour to stop for. Despite her physical reaction very obviously rustling the plastic bag, Mingyu plays all of it off like she’s not the person being addressed. Even though she knows it’s her. 

She starts taking the to-go containers out, placing them carefully on the table when Seungcheol’s hand intercepts hers. Instinctually, Mingyu looks at her with big, pleading eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” she breaks immediately, unable to handle Seungcheol just raising an eyebrow at her. Mingyu supposes that’s one of the reasons she was chosen as their leader. She makes quick eye contact with Wonwoo who is halfway between sitting down at the table and standing, watching their interaction with curious eyes. 

“Should we uhh…” Hansol begins asking, trailing off as she gestures in the direction of their rooms. 

“No. I think we should all know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mingyu says, lip beginning to quiver. “Nothing is going on.” Seungcheol’s gaze stays consistent, but somehow, to Mingyu, it feels like it gets more intense the longer it’s on her. They hold their staring contest for about ten seconds before Mingyu blinks and all the words come pouring out of her mouth — she should probably work on getting a better handle on that. 

“I just wanted to apologize! You even said it would be a good idea!”

“Mingyu… what did you say?” 

She can’t handle all of them looking at her like that. She’s spent days in front of audiences now, and it still doesn’t compare to her groupmates — her best friends — possibly being upset with her. 

“I just said I was sorry,” Mingyu tries, but even to her own ears, she doesn’t sound convincing. 

“Right… Is that why I had a message asking me about your ‘feud’?” 

“ Feud? ” Wonwoo asks, now with even wider eyes.

“Mingyu’s fighting with someone?” Hansol asks, smiling like it’s funny. 

It’s not. 

“There’s no feud!” she clarifies first and foremost, because there’s not. “There’s nothing but misunderstandings because this always happens to me…” 

Mingyu hides in her hands, finally allowing herself to feel fully and completely embarrassed by this whole situation, doubly so now that all of the members are aware of it. Seungcheol puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“Let me help you, Gyu-yah… I can’t do anything unless you talk to me about it.”

“Because that went so well before… You clearly found out about this from someone. Which means it’s noticeable now. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” 

When she’s finally done pouting into her palms, she looks back up to see all three of them still looking at her with some mixture of pity and sympathy. 

“A few people are talking about it online,” Seungcheol says like she’s not making Mingyu crumble from the inside out. 

“How many is a few?”

“You don’t need to know that. Besides, it’s not really about you.” 

Mingyu’s heart stutters in fear.

“Not about me?”

Seungcheol winces like she knows she said the wrong thing but needs to follow through with it anyway. 

“The posts are mostly about her… face.”

“Who is ‘her?’ If you want us to know what’s going on can you at least stop talking in code?” Wonwoo asks before taking a huge bite of food, appetite clearly not subdued by stupid drama. 

“Lee Jihoon,” Mingyu groans like it’s causing her physical pain. Hansol snorts.

“Aren’t you like, in love with her? How did you manage to get into a fight with someone you think was sent from the gods or whatever you say?” 

“I didn’t get into a fight with her, I was just trying to apologize for running into her but then the words kept coming out wrong,” Mingyu laments, thinking about the words ‘you’re sexy’ coming out like she was surprised when that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“It's okay. You're not in trouble.”

Whether or not Mingyu is actually in trouble is beyond the point. She can't believe she's in a situation where someone she genuinely idolizes thinks she doesn't respect them. She can't believe she's this bad at communicating after years of training for this exact kind of interaction; something must be wrong with her. 

Seungcheol goes on and on about how they don't need to have a meeting, that their manager just asked her to talk to Mingyu about it, but Mingyu's mind is elsewhere, thinking and definitely overthinking any way she could possibly fix this whole thing and not make it worse. But she comes up empty every time.

At this point, she's not even sure Jihoon would stay in place long enough for her to properly apologize, and Mingyu honestly wouldn't blame her for that. 

She’s honestly moments away from accepting this fate, thinking it over for close to an hour, all throughout their shared dinner, when she decides to break Seungcheol’s rule. 

Safe in the dark of her room, Mingyu dims her phone screen and scrolls, finding the posts Seungcheol was referring to with an unsettling ease. While they are far from being a majority voice, there’s more than enough of them to make Mingyu’s stomach turn. 

Did anyone else notice this…? one person asks alongside a video clip of the live broadcast that happened a little over three hours ago now. Mingyu takes a deep, shaky breath even when she knows that it probably isn’t a good idea. 

It’s very funny that 4fire JUST debuted and they’re already making people mad

Mingyu does not think that’s very funny, quite the opposite, actually. She leaves the post and scrolls to the next, cringing the moment that she reads it.

the jealousy happening here is very obvious and honestly pathetic

Mingyu imagines she can delete the post with her mind, that if she just thinks about it hard enough her own fans will stop coming to her defense over something that they don’t have the context to understand. Despite the terrible feelings stirring up inside her, she can’t seem to stop herself from looking at the disaster unfolding before her, reading comment after comment, fans fighting one another like it’s their job. 

Why would jihoonie be jealous…? The groups are honestly from two completely different genres. They aren’t even in competition to me 🤷

of course u would think that… this is their first win and they’ve been a group for how many years now? honestly their fans are bigger losers than they are

Mingyu is gripping her phone harder than she ever has before, so tempted to leave a response of her own even if it would be attacked or ignored entirely coming from a completely empty, zero-follower account. She needs to stop dwelling on the situation if she wants to be able to sleep tonight, and she needs to sleep after losing so much of it the day before. 

So she exits the post and instead finds one that is unequivocally positive, praising the group and their hard work, something she can appreciate even if they don’t know the half of it. It’s then that she’s struck by an idea that may not accomplish much, but it will at least let her brain rest for a few hours. 

She closes Twitter, considers deleting the app altogether, but leaves that to another day, opening up her fan-messaging app and typing something with more conviction than she’s felt since she was working to make the group lineup. 

Hello everyone 😗

She watches as replies of varying nature immediately flood in. This element of her new life is still a little strange as well. She didn’t know how to feel when the label had suggested the whole group open these accounts before they even debuted, giving ‘fans’ a chance to get to know them before they even released any music — after all, how can one be a fan of a music group they’ve never listened to? 

She supposes it’s something that will take a little more time to get used to. 

Some fans greet her back, some ask her how she’s doing, some tell her that her performance tonight was great, and some of them are weird. She ignores those ones entirely, too focused on her goal to let some comments derail her. 

Thank you for all of your support for the last two days! I have been very busy, but I am having so much fun ❣️

This gets her more praise and some questions, and she figures she can answer some of them to at least make it seem like she doesn’t have an agenda right now. 

I had a great dinner 😋 Coups unnie treated all of us because she’s sweet and likes to take care of us, even when she’s also working hard. Make sure to tell her she’s a great leader. 

She takes a breath and braces herself for impact. 

I appreciate all the excitement from you all… It feels amazing to be so loved and to know that you are enjoying our music and performances 🫶 Please always remember that positivity is the key to a happy life!! Speak positively about those you care for and try not to leave room for negative feelings or words. The happiness you feel will be so much warmer and brighter!

It isn’t until she hits the send button that Mingyu realizes she was holding her breath the entire time, finally letting it out and watching with unblinking eyes as responses begin to trickle in once more. 

This is why you’re my favorite ♥️ Sunshine Mingyu

Mingyu smiles at the message, and the dozens of others just like it, and decides that even if this isn’t all that straightforward, it’s the most she can do to address the situation without drawing even more attention to it.

She wants their fans to be kind. She knows that in this day and age that’s a nearly impossible expectation, but if she can do anything to steer things in that direction, then she’s going to do it. Even if the only way she’s allowed is through little reminders like this. 

Be kind and have sweet dreams!

She reads a couple messages telling her to rest, and feels like she might actually be able to. 

—

“Saw your messages from last night,” Seungcheol says, taking a sip of iced coffee as they’re transported once again, another day, a different studio. The hours for this recording aren’t nearly as gruelling as the others had been, giving Mingyu the opportunity to actually rest (even despite her dreams being plastered with image after image of Lee Jihoon). 

If this whole drama hadn’t been playing on her mind so heavily, she actually might’ve forgotten all about the messages. From an outsider’s perspective, she’s sure they seem relatively innocuous; positive for positivity’s sake. 

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks in response. She can hear the way that Wonwoo stops furiously tapping at her phone screen, pausing her game to listen in. Mingyu wouldn’t be surprised if Hansol also had one of her ear buds removed, but she doesn’t turn around to check. 

“Yeah. You handled it well. It doesn’t seem like the negative posts spiralled or gained traction in any way,” Seungcheol says, sparking a tiny bit of guilt somewhere deep inside Mingyu. 

“You don’t have to babysit my image, you know. This whole thing is my fault, so I’m taking responsibility for it,” she says, though it’s through a pout, so she doubts it’ll be taken very seriously. 

“I’m the leader. It’s kind of my job,” Seungcheol shrugs, even though this kind of stuff should definitely be PR’s job. Still, Mingyu is glad she has someone who clearly loves her and is looking out for her, and she’s even more grateful that it’s Seungcheol. 

“So, the fight’s over?” Wonwoo asks, taking a sip of her own beverage, an energy drink that probably has at least twice as much caffeine. Mingyu has no idea how she doesn’t crash in the middle of the day. 

“There never was a fight,” Mingyu clarifies, even though she’s sure Wonwoo is joking. 

“And good thing,” Hansol pipes in. “Jihoon-ssi would probably win.”

“What do you mean?” Mingyu asks, suddenly offended. “I'm big and strong.” 

To prove her point, she flexes one of her biceps, taking extra care to ensure she doesn't spill her own coffee. Seungcheol reaches over and pinches the underside of her arm, making Mingyu yelp. All of them laugh. 

“Everyone was honestly overreacting. Jihoonie didn't even look mean or anything,” she says, hoping to get them all on the same page despite the jokes. There's no feud and Mingyu is still probably the biggest Echo5 fan on the planet, and she would honestly love to go back to being a fan that no one (Jihoon included) was aware of. 

But she won't pretend like she didn't get butterflies over Jihoon saying she knows who she is. 

“Even if she did look mean, you're kind of into that, aren't you?” Wonwoo asks, so bold even when she's turned her attention back to her game. Mingyu's face goes red when she notices the way their driver's eyes widen. She makes eye contact with Mingyu through the rearview mirror, and Mingyu can't hold it for longer than a couple seconds. 

“No,” Mingyu insists, but it doesn't sound very convincing. She should probably get more practice with telling white lies if she's going to make it out here. 

“We should know less about each other,” Hansol says, though she still doesn't put her second ear bud back in. 

It's only a couple more minutes until they're at the studio and going through the routine once again, and Mingyu is grateful that today’s performance look is a little more laidback and casual. It obviously doesn’t compare to something that she would wear back in the dorms, but she’ll take baggy pants and a t-shirt where she can get it. When she looks at herself in the mirror she actually thinks she pulls it off better than the dress they had her in yesterday, even if the cutouts on the sides were objectively alluring. 

They tie her hair up in an intentionally messy bun with face-framing pieces, and she has only a few minutes to wonder how long she will be expected to walk the line between beautiful, feminine woman and cool, relatable ‘tomboy’ despite feeling like neither of those things. 

Mingyu doesn’t want to jinx anything, but the performances feel like they get easier and easier with every one. She can feel her confidence rise like an actual meter inside her, and with every point gained, she unlocks a new aspect of herself that she was scared or nervous to show before. She leaves the stage feeling exhilarated and relieved, hoping that as she goes through all of the motions, so will their fans, forgetting petty non-issues and instead focusing on the fun they can have together.  

It’s easy for her. Truth be told, there isn’t enough time in the day to actually worry about what people are saying about her if it’s not coming directly from their manager or PR. The week suddenly has Mingyu feeling like she barely has time to breathe, and by the time they’re slated for their Music Bank interview, she’s bordering on feeling lightheaded. 

So much so, that she barely comprehends that one of the hosts has directed a question to her, specifically. 

“Who am I most excited for?” she asks for clarity. Seungcheol had been taking all of the questions gracefully up to this point, so the sudden shift in attention is enough to send her reeling. 

“Yes, who do you most look forward to sharing a stage with?” The host, Hoshi, asks a second time, patient and kind, which means Mingyu needs to rack her brain for an actual answer and not just blow it off with unspecific niceties. Which would be easy if her mind didn’t go completely blank all of a sudden, feeling put on the spot and targeted. There’s an easy answer, but after everything that’s happened, would that be the smartest route to take? 

“It’s a huge honor to be able to perform alongside Echo5, honestly,” Mingyu finally says when she realizes she can’t just stand around trying to come up with something when this is live. People are watching her say all of this right now: her groupmates, the hosts, the live audience, and everyone watching her through a screen at home. She has to actively try not to choke on her saliva, successfully getting through the sentence without tripping over her own tongue. 

Seungcheol has a look on her face that Mingyu can’t quite decode, but the hosts continue with the interview like everything is normal. 

“Ah, so you’re a fan?” Hoshi asks as a follow-up. “Who’s your bias in the group?” 

The second question is asked playfully, almost like a joke, but Mingyu can still feel her face burning at the prospect of answering it, desperately hoping that her blush isn’t visible under her makeup. She’s again torn between the idea of a respectful non-answer and the truth, when she’s hit with an unexpected burst of confidence — maybe it’s still wearing off from their performance earlier in the day. 

“My bias is of course Jihoon-sunbaenim,” Mingyu answers with what she hopes is a sweet, cute little smile. She’s not sure when she lifted her hand up, but her fingers are currently twirling through the loose tendrils of hair on the side of her face. 

“Her vocals are crazy! So powerful you almost feel them here,” her co-host, Chan, chimes in, placing a hand over her chest and pretending like she’s nearly being knocked down by the performance. 

“You must really like singers,” Hoshi replies, her tone teasing but still kind, and it makes those butterflies return to Mingyu’s belly. 

“What is this reaction?” Seungcheol finally jumps back into the conversation, also teasing Mingyu, but trying to make eye contact. Mingyu refuses. It takes everything in her to not bring her hands up to her face. She knows she can’t smudge her makeup before the end of the show. 

“Mingyu-ssi is just shy,” Chan says with a comforting hand on her arm despite the way she's also definitely teasing. Mingyu's not sure what it is about her that inspires such a relentless urge to tease and poke fun at her, but this is far from the first group of people to do it. And yet, somehow, she still hasn't learned how to manage her own reaction. 

“I understand!” Hoshi says, seeming to have mercy on Mingyu, trying to take some of the heat off of her and transferring it to herself. “Jihoon-ssi has eyes like magnets, too! They really pull you in.” 

Mingyu isn't sure if the statement actually helps her or just further incriminates her, but she doesn't have to think about it for much longer as they direct a question to Hansol about producing their promoted b-side of the album. 

When the short interview is over they all bow and make their exit, heading backstage where Mingyu spots all of the members of Echo5 gathered together, but she adamantly ignores their presence for both her peace of mind, and also her group's. She thinks she's probably caused Seungcheol enough stress to last until at least their first comeback, so she bites her tongue, averts her eyes, and follows behind Wonwoo with as straight of a face as she can manage. 

Her avoidance isn't enough to get her out of an interaction though because before she can even sit down to take a breath before the ending stage, she's being whisked away to a random corner, a strong hand coming down on her shoulder and guiding her there. 

“Are you trying to ruin my fucking career the second it actually starts?” Jihoon asks in a rough, biting whisper. The harshness of the words and the presence of cursing is enough to make Mingyu jump a little, which isn't great given the fact that she's wearing actual heels for the first time. 

She stumbles around precariously before finally catching herself on Jihoon's (strong, steady…) arms. Jihoon's hands automatically go to Mingyu's sides and she tries her hardest not to just stumble again because of it. 

“I-I’m not, unnie!” Mingyu responds in shock at the accusation. The mortification of not only stuttering, but referring to Lee Jihoon so informally only hits her after a handful of seconds. She's not sure how she's managing to mess up so badly with a senior she admires so much. “I mean, Jihoon-sunbaenim.” 

They're still touching, and Jihoon seems to realize this at the exact same time because she suddenly stops holding Mingyu like the contact burns her. 

“Do you know what people say about my group? About me?” Jihoon asks. She gestures to herself as if to clarify what she means, but Mingyu knows. Oh, she knows. 

It's one of the reasons she'd been so enamoured by Echo5 in the first place. It's the reason she has a crush the size of Jupiter and imagines being romantically serenaded by Jihoon every time she listens to one of their love songs. But she knows that appearing visibly gay doesn't get you very far in the industry. 

“It's taken years for us to have a breakthrough like this. Why do you think that is?” Jihoon asks when Mingyu just stands there in stunned silence. It's a small company, Mingyu wants to say, but even the thought of it feels shameful when she knows exactly what Jihoon is talking about. She still doesn't know what to say that will make the situation better. 

“I get that you have some kind of hang up about me–”

“What? I–”

“But can you at least respect that my group has worked really hard and that we deserve this just as much as anyone else here?” 

“Of course!” Mingyu says, much too loud, so she covers her mouth even though it doesn’t do anything to take back the little outburst. 

“Great. See, if our comebacks never overlap then maybe we get away with never seeing each other again. I promise that we’re not real competition for you.”

Mingyu wants to argue. 

She wants to pull Jihoon back to her and tell her that she’s got it all wrong, that she really couldn’t possibly be more wrong, but the words don’t come out of her mouth and her feet feel glued to the floor as Jihoon walks back around the corridor, leaving Mingyu to stand there on her own. 

—

They win Music Bank. 

It’s so genuinely unexpected that Mingyu didn’t even practice winning, so she has no idea what her face or body look like when their group name is announced and Seungcheol is holding onto her, shaking her with all of her body weight. 

She's handed a mic for their encore performance, and she sings her heart out, without thinking about it for longer than a couple seconds at a time. She’s grateful that they practiced as much as they did, because Mingyu’s really not sure she could manage to do much of anything if she was relying on her brain right now. It’s like she can barely hear her own voice, drowned out by the crowd, but also by a ringing that she’s certain is all in her head. 

Seeming to sense that Mingyu’s not entirely present, Wonwoo wraps an arm around her waist as she sings her own line, moving Mingyu from side to side in a way that actually eases Mingyu back into herself. 

And while the rest of the night is one of celebratory nature, even more so than that first night had been, Mingyu can’t help but be haunted by Jihoon’s words, her sternness, and the way she would hardly let Mingyu get a word in. She understands where Jihoon is coming from and exactly why she didn’t wait around for Mingyu to respond, but she can’t stop thinking about how different things would feel if Mingyu could just say what she means, the right way, and without any misunderstandings or poor choice of words. For Jihoon to just listen to her. 

She wants so badly to be on good terms, not only with Jihoon, but with all of the members of Echo5. It’s eating away at her to know that they probably think the worst of her and there’s little she can personally do to change their minds. While she doubts they would have ever collaborated or been serious colleagues, Mingyu would at least like having them as friends. 

In the end, it's naive of Mingyu to hope that things die down around her, to hope that her name stops trending in hashtags, and that everyone stops analyzing her every move. 

She includes herself in that last part, one of the people watching and waiting for any mistake, any sign of worry or insecurity. 

Especially when she watches the interview, clipped for YouTube, and can’t help but feel like her emotions are painfully obvious, on display for everyone to see. She knows that she shouldn’t, but she scrolls down to the comments yet again. 

The first ten or so are all very generally supportive of the group in a way that Mingyu doesn’t need to overthink. The 11th comment is specifically about her. 

Mingyu-yah is so pretty, I can’t believe someone like her exists in this world… ㅠㅠ

The user’s icon is a photo of a woman, and even though Mingyu can’t be sure that it’s the person leaving the comment, the thought alone makes her feel warm and giddy in a way that little else can. 

She keeps scrolling, seeing comments about her fellow group members, as well as some gushing over how cute Hoshi and Chan are as hosts. She goes until she reaches what she had dreaded all along (and yet, did not stop herself from seeking it out). 

I need to look into Echo5 now… I am amused by how easily Mingyu melts over Jihoon when she is normally so cool 😍

Is she normally cool? Does that make this whole fiasco all the more obvious to the average fan? 

“Do you think the big groups spend their time reading comments like this?” 

Seungcheol’s question is sudden and jarring, making Mingyu jump, though this time she manages to hold onto her phone. Mingyu isn’t sure what the benefit is to continually giving her a heart attack, but Seungcheol seems set on doing it at least once a day. 

“Maybe,” Mingyu responds, small and meek despite it sounding a lot more nonchalant in her head. 

“They don’t,” Seungcheol assures her. “They don’t have time to read what every person thinks of them, and neither do you.” 

Mingyu understands the logic of that, she really does. But she can’t help but think about the fact that they’re all human. They all have an innate sense of curiosity, and while they might not see every comment ever made about them (Mingyu hasn’t either!), she thinks this is the kind of situation anyone would want to keep tabs on. 

Seungcheol sits with her, just staring at her until she sighs, deep and heavy, and Mingyu isn’t sure if it’s a result of their week or of Mingyu’s own stupid actions. 

“What are you doing, Mingyu?” she asks with a tone dangerously close to pity. Just the sound of her voice makes Mingyu squirm a bit. She’s not sure how to answer that question. She wasn’t trying to do anything, but it would appear the universe has other plans for her. 

“I was just trying to bury the hatchet,” she says miserably. “But I don’t even think there actually is a hatchet. It’s honestly nothing and it would all blow over so easily if I didn’t keep opening my big mouth.” 

Seungcheol’s face goes soft and sympathetic at that, and while Mingyu would normally eat it up, it mostly makes her feel like a child now. 

“You just have a crush. It’s cute,” Seungcheol says, squeezing Mingyu’s cheek, but Mingyu is adamant about maintaining her pout. 

“It isn’t cute when the whole world can see it,” Mingyu whines, flicking Seungcheol’s hand away. Really, it just makes her feel like a stupid kid who doesn’t know how the world works yet. 

She can’t help but think that all of this awkwardness, the bumbling around and blushing, should have been things she went through a decade ago in the halls of her middle school. Instead, she got to know the inside of the closet on a level far too intimate for her liking, too in denial to even entertain the idea of having a crush on a girl, promising friends that she totally likes that guy and can’t stop thinking about making out with him, he’s so hot . It took her years to realize that she had a crush on one of said friends, and even longer to accept that she only likes women. 

All of it set her back by entire years and now she has to deal with her stupid crush on another idol being aired out in front of potentially millions. 

“The whole world can’t see it. I’m sure no one has even noticed,” Seungcheol assures her.

“ You noticed.”

“Yeah, because I know you. No one in the crowd knows you. That’s all you have to remember. It only seems obvious to you because you know your own feelings.” 

Mingyu considers that this may be the case, but unfortunately logic only gets her so far before she stumbles back into the abyss. 

“I'm still really sorry. I thought we would at least get through our debut before people started calling us…” 

“What? Lesbians?” 

Mingyu is ashamed of the way the word still makes her wince. It's been years since she first said the word out loud, and at least a year since she’s started using it to describe herself, and still, when she hears it spoken aloud in contexts like these, she feels inclined to react negatively. To feel guilty, even. 

“We all like women, Mingyu. You know that.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

But she can't stop thinking about what Jihoon said, about careers being halted and opportunities being stolen away, all because of perceptions and what other people think. She doesn't want to bring her friends down with her just because, even after years of media training, she doesn't seem to know how to keep her emotions covered up. 

“It's not a big deal. Please, trust me when I say that,” Seungcheol tries to reassure her, but it’s probably clear to both of them that this isn’t something that Mingyu can just ignore and move past. 

It might not be what the big groups do, but they’re not a big group. 

This is how Mingyu justifies reading through a post that she would’ve been better off without, scrolling on her phone in bed once again, dimming her screen and staring at it in the dark of her room. 

She has to translate it from English, and while the auto-translate likely doesn’t do a great job, Mingyu thinks she gets the gist of it pretty quickly. 

kdksjdjljdsld i feel so bad for mingyu 😭 girl is obviously crushing but i don’t think jihoon is interested AT ALL 

While the post hasn’t gained a ton of traction, it does have a startling number of likes and even a few comments under it. 

she’s so cute but i wouldn’t wish these feelings on my worst enemies…

Mingyu can at least nod her head to the sentiment of that one. 

when will you people stop assuming their sexualities?? mingyu is obviously not gay so stop saying this shit about her 🙄

Well…

4FIRE SUPPORT LGBT WHY WHY WHY

Mingyu closes the app and just breathes. Seungcheol is definitely right about all of this, but it isn’t going to stop Mingyu from taking peeks every now and again because it’s completely normal to want to see, and nothing will convince her otherwise. 

Ideally, she should just put her phone aside and shut her eyes. Their days aren’t getting any shorter or easier, and she could honestly use all of the energy that she can muster up to keep herself from making the same mistakes tomorrow. 

But there’s been a notification hanging out at the top of her screen for a couple hours that she hasn’t swiped away specifically because she was saving it for this very moment—whether it’s a nice treat or absolute torture after the day she’s had, Mingyu isn’t sure. But she taps on it anyway, waiting a second or two for the video to load and start playing, changing the video quality to the highest it’ll possibly go, and then holding her breath as the lights and fog of the stage perfectly highlight the five people on stage. 

Jihoon has the first line in the song and it’s strong and powerful and sexy in a way that makes Mingyu want to claw at her own skin. For this performance, Jihoon’s hair is tied back and up, showing off her undercut in all of its glory, and Mingyu actually feels herself begin to salivate over it. There’s a moment within the choreography where Jihoon and Seungkwan make eye contact for an extended period of time as they do a casual but sultry little dance together. It stings deep in Mingyu’s brain and heart and soul, but mostly because despite everything Jihoon said about perceptions and stereotypes and repercussions, Echo5 is still putting so much on the line. 

It makes the performance that much more impactful. Mingyu is in awe of how well all of it goes together, the way the lyrics are represented in the dance and the way their faces convey so much of the feeling behind every word. There’s a particular moment in the bridge that’s been getting her every time, and the Music Bank cameras are the first to capture it properly (in her opinion). 

The shot zooms in just the right amount to get Jihoon’s facial expressions while also keeping her hips in frame as she rolls them fluidly. The hem of her top rides up ever so slightly, and Mingyu acts like a parched woman seeing water for the first time in days because of it, going back to watch the moment again because she’s just at that level now, apparently. The lip bite in her ending fairy is just about enough to make Mingyu scream. 

Her ears are an adorable shade of red that makes Mingyu want to nibble on them. It’s obvious that she still feels shy about being sexy, and it only serves to make Mingyu feel even more attracted to her, someone who is so undeniably hot, and yet so unaware of that fact. Mingyu would make sure that she knew every single day, if they were on speaking terms. 

And then maybe kissing terms. And then… maybe…

Mingyu has enough shame to stop herself from sliding a hand under her waistband, but the thought does circle her brain until she falls asleep. 

And if that results in what can maybe be categorized as a wet dream, then it’s no one’s business but her own. 

—

Inkigayo is their last run and Mingyu is determined to give it her all, even more so than she has for the entire rest of the week. She dances harder than she ever has before and makes sure that all of her lines are strong and confident, but still said with a smile on her face. She doesn't stumble or misstep once, and when the crowd roars despite it being five in the morning, Mingyu feels like she's actually earned it. It takes everything in her not to burst out in laughter at the absolute disbelief that they're here, and that they've made it. 

When she's having her makeup removed backstage, getting redressed in her normal clothes, it feels like the end of an era—a monumental milestone that she's managed to experience. It's all the more surreal when it's soundtracked by the dreamy vocals of Echo5 performing after them. Mingyu only manages to catch the very beginning of their song before she's being ushered to their car, but it's just enough to solidify an idea in her head, one last shot at kindling some kind of relationship between her and Jihoon (and the rest of the girls, too!) 

When they're back for the live broadcast Mingyu keeps her mouth shut during the interview portion with the exception of their greeting and a few cheery sounds. 

There you go, Mingyu. That wasn't so difficult now, was it? 

Truth be told, Mingyu barely comprehends the questions being asked of them, too focused on not putting her foot in her mouth for what feels like the millionth time this week. Thankfully, Hansol ends up picking up a lot of her slack. 

Echo5 has their second win of all time tonight, and while they're not quite as shocked and emotional as they were for their first, the humility and gratitude are both still obviously present. It's just another trait for Mingyu to admire about them all. 

All of the girls shine, almost ethereal in their matching white outfits, and Mingyu catches as many glances as she can manage before she's no longer on stage.

She has a mission now, a set of steps to follow once they're all backstage with the rest of them, to approach someone other than Jihoon for once and give them the compliment, something to hopefully show that Mingyu is genuine in her words without further antagonizing the woman she continues falling for every single day. 

Because she's Mingyu, she's still a little too excitable, too jumpy for the end of a long day (and long week), so Jeonghan flinches when Mingyu suddenly appears in front of her. 

“Hello, Jeonghan-sunbaenim,” Mingyu says with a bow, careful not to bend too far forward and hit Jeonghan with her head. 

“Mingyu-yah… You're so cute,” Jeonghan says with a smile and a look in her eyes that Mingyu is dying to know the meaning of. Being referred to so fondly by a senior she likes so much is enough to make her heart flutter, but she does her best to ignore the feeling and stay committed to her plan. 

“I was so happy to see you all win again. It's a really great song and you deserve all of it and more. So cool,” Mingyu rambles, going a little off script, but Jeonghan and Jisoo both look charmed by her, that it's worth it to sound a little pathetic. 

“We like your song, too, unnie,” Seungkwan says, coming up from behind the two others, grabbing Mingyu's hand and squeezing it quickly before letting it go. Is everyone in this group trying to kill me? Or make me fall in love? Both?

“Quit flirting…” Seokmin says from behind Seungkwan, all of them appearing one after another like a manifestation of Mingyu's dreams. “Without me.” 

Seokmin gives a wink before Jihoon squeezes through the space between all of them, effectively breaking the moment and vibe, bringing Mingyu back to reality. 

“Yah, Jihoonie… Why are you sulking?” Jeonghan asks after her. Jihoon doesn't humor any of them with a response of any kind, continuing on her way and ignoring everyone. Unfortunately for her, the distance she has to travel isn't all that far, definitely still within earshot, so her group mates continue their questioning. 

“Is she mad that we're hitting on her girlfriend?” Jisoo asks in a whisper that's purposely just loud enough for Jihoon to hear. Still, Jihoon doesn't react at all, taking off the thick belt wrapped around her hips. Mingyu very pointedly does not think about her doing the same thing in a different, more bedroom-oriented context. 

“We should give them some privacy,” Jeonghan snickers, and before Mingyu can even think to protest, the rest of the group disperses like it was a rehearsed dance formation, scattering like leaves in the wind. Jihoon still does nothing, taking off the rings adorning many of her fingers, and placing them on the table in front of her. 

“You were amazing, too, sunbaenim. You always are,” Mingyu says because she can't just walk away, even when it's probably what Jihoon would prefer at this point. 

“Quit acting like that, it's ridiculous,” Jihoon mutters under her breath. The words are so sharp that Mingyu thinks she actually feels them cut into her like little tiny knives. 

“Acting like what?” She can't stop the pout from manifesting on her lips. She's honestly lucky tears don't start welling up in her eyes at that very moment. 

“What do you think you're achieving right now? There are no cameras around to give you good girl PR points, so save it.” 

And something about Jihoon's assured nature irritates her this time, the stubbornness going from hot to impossible in the blink of an eye. Mingyu's jelly legs solidify long enough for her to stand tall and take control for once. 

She grabs ahold of Jihoon's wrist and drags her away to a place with no peering eyes, uncaring of who sees her do it, but suddenly desperate for that privacy Jeonghan had joked about. Despite her own strength and rock-like stature, Jihoon allows herself to be dragged along. If it's only to avoid making a bigger scene, Mingyu honestly doesn't care. 

She pulls until they're in an empty bathroom, both of them bathed in the bright, slightly sickly glow of the fluorescent lights. 

“What are you–”

“I’m acting this way? You think it's an act to say that you did well? That I like your song? That I like you ? Do you really think that lowly of yourself?” 

Mingyu doesn't mean for the last part to come out quite so harsh or condescending, but she thinks that it's only fair that she finally gets to lash out a bit given the circumstances of the last five days. 

“I hate when anyone automatically assumes bad faith of people they don't even know. It's such a cynical point of view to have, especially in this industry. How do you just move day to day thinking everyone is out to get you?” she asks, not rhetorically. She genuinely doesn't understand how someone could have their guard up 24/7, around those who can probably understand you better than anyone else. Does Jihoon have any idol friends outside of her own group? 

“I don't think everyone is out to get me. I'm just smart enough to know that not everyone wants what's best for me. It's competitive—we all know that,” Jihoon says. At that moment, she seems to realize that Mingyu's fingers are still encircling her wrist, wriggling it free despite Mingyu's own reluctance to let go. She doesn't want her to escape without admitting that she's being ridiculous. 

And Mingyu is normally not this adamant about things so seemingly small and petty, but Jihoon is the first idol she's met that she really feels like she idolizes and she can't just accept that she's some insufferable asshole. Mingyu knows that she has better taste than that. 

“Someone paying you a compliment isn't a psych out to make you lose your competitive edge. Sometimes people say they like you because they genuinely like you.”

“Don't pretend like I'm stupid just because I'm skeptical. You're new, what do you even know?” 

“I know that you're being really annoying and difficult for literally no reason. You're like, punishing me for liking you. I thought that gay people were supposed to have each other's backs.” 

Up until now, Mingyu hasn't been able to shock Jihoon, just bother her. When the word ‘gay’ leaves Mingyu's mouth, Jihoon's eyes immediately widen like Mingyu just admitted to a slew of murders. 

“You?” is all Jihoon asks in response. She looks Mingyu up and down, analytical eyes taking her in, even though Mingyu is still dressed for the stage. She doesn't know what Jihoon expects to see. Some kind of physical indicator that she's telling the truth? A gay calling card? 

It's the final straw for Mingyu. 

“Yes! As if it wasn't fucking obvious. It's infuriating that I could have such a huge crush on you without you so much as suspecting it. A huge part of what makes me attracted to you is how smart you are though, so maybe I need to rethink my feelings because you–”

Mingyu is pulled down by her shoulders, down down down, until she and Jihoon are face to face. Then Jihoon's face smashes into hers.

Mingyu's teeth cut into the inside of her upper lip, and she whimpers as Jihoon's fingers tighten their grip, holding her like she wants to leave bruises behind. Her tongue teases at the seam of Mingyu's mouth, and Mingyu opens up like it's the most natural thing in the world, even with the irritation still thrumming in her veins. 

Lee Jihoon's tongue is in my mouth. She's tasting me and her hands are moving down to my waist and it shouldn't be this easy for her after everything she's done. 

But Mingyu can't bring herself to pull away. If anything, she wants to make it all easier. She wants to be small and easy for Jihoon to manipulate in whatever way suits her. But only a handful of seconds later, Jihoon pulls away with a bite to her lower lip. 

Mingyu's ashamed to acknowledge the way she whines the moment their lips part. 

“God, you're such a fucking brat.” 

“ Me? ” Mingyu asks in disbelief because she's not the one who's been acting stubborn this entire time. 

“Yes, you,” Jihoon confirms, squeezing Mingyu's hips, which does unspeakable things to her legs and the space between them. “Just a pretty girl who can't stand when everyone isn't falling all over her.” 

“That's not why I was upset!” Mingyu pouts, the crease between her eyebrows deepening when Jihoon gives her a stern look for being loud. “I just wanted you to understand that I was a fan… Not trying to be rude or mean or anything like that.”

“You needed me to know that bad?” Jihoon asks, continuing to rub circles in Mingyu's hips, which is definitely 100% dangerous. 

“Well, yes!” Mingyu says, trying her hardest not to let her voice break in the process. “You work hard; you said it yourself. I just wanted to praise a senior who I look up to and… admire.” 

“Is that all?” 

“I already said I have a crush on you. You don't need to rub it in. Besides… you're the one who kissed me. I should be asking you what that was all about.” 

“What more is there to it? You're obviously sexy.” Jihoon pulls her close again. 

“So you think you can just do this after you were mean?” 

“Can I not?” Jihoon's fingers loosen and as soon as Mingyu feels it, she whines again. 

Again, it shouldn't be that easy. Mingyu shouldn't be that easy, and she feels stupid for practically moaning at Jihoon's touch. But she's been lusting after Jihoon on her laptop screen for five years now and she would feel even stupider if she just let this opportunity pass her by. 

What the ‘opportunity’ is, she's not exactly sure of, but she wants whatever Jihoon is willing to give her. 

“Please,” Mingyu begs, but she doesn't put her hands on Jihoon, too confused about what they're doing to make any kind of move. 

“We spent too much time talking,” Jihoon tsks, shaking her head. “We’ll have to move fast if you want to come.”

Mingyu's brain turns to TV static at Jihoon's declaration. Come? As in–

“Want my fingers?” Jihoon asks, seemingly unfazed by Mingyu's silence, mouth gaped open in shock. When she finally closes her mouth she has an unbelievable amount of saliva to swallow. 

“Like… inside?” she questions in a scandalized whisper. They're in a public bathroom . Even making out has been incredibly risky, and Jihoon wants to do more? 

She’s fucking insane. 

And yet, Mingyu does want Jihoon's fingers. She absolutely does. 

“Or I could just play with you? We've had two conversations, I don't know your fingering preferences.” 

Mingyu locks eyes with Jihoon. And the second she knows she's being serious, she reaches under her skirt to pull her safety shorts down to her knees, taking her panties along with them. 

A fire lights up in Jihoon's eyes as she guides Mingyu back slightly, urging her to lean against the counter and then sliding her leg between both of Mingyu's, spreading them apart.

Jihoon’s movements start gently, but the softness doesn't last long. 

She teases her hand up Mingyu's skirt, crawling her fingers up her inner thigh, petting around before smirking. 

“Why are you doing that?” Mingyu asks petulantly. She simultaneously hates and loves how much power Jihoon has over her and can't help but want more and more of it. 

“You're already wet,” Jihoon says, proud like it's a personal achievement. It's not. 

“I'm just sensitive.” 

“Sure.” 

It's the last thing Jihoon says before she starts rubbing circles into Mingyu's clit, an insistent pressure that makes her leak even more, and at an honestly embarrassing rate. 

Even more embarrassing is the way she moans, quiet but definitely still audible in the echoey silence of the bathroom. 

“Cute,” Jihoon mumbles as she slips her middle finger inside. Mingyu's legs nearly give out from under her. 

Everything after that is quick and messy, because it has to be, but Mingyu also has the feeling that Jihoon might just enjoy making messes out of girls. 

She pumps her middle finger in and out of Mingyu's pussy, slow for the first couple thrusts before drastically changing her speed, hitting that spot in Mingyu over and over until she needs to beg for more. Jihoon makes her beg for more. 

“Is that nice?” she asks, far too level and quiet for someone currently fingering a woman in the Inkigayo bathroom. 

“Mhmm,” is all Mingyu can manage in response. Jihoon doesn't seem to think it's enough. 

“How is it? Tell me.” 

“Uhhh…” Mingyu moans stupidly until Jihoon uses her other hand to reach up and pinch one of her nipples. Through the padding of her bra, it's hardly anything, but just the idea makes Mingyu push up to her toes and shake. “It's good, unnie. Please keep making me feel good.” 

It's the second time that the honorific has slipped from Mingyu's mouth, but this time it does something incredible to Jihoon, curling her finger up as she thrusts. 

“Yeah? Your pussy feels so nice on my finger, baby,” Jihoon whispers back, that stupid smirk still on her face. She moves closer, until her mouth is hovering near Mingyu's ear. “So wet and open for me.”

Then, without any warning, she slides another finger in beside the first and fucks Mingyu harder and faster, hooking the tips of her fingers into her g-spot until the wet sound of it is echoing off the walls. Mingyu can't stop moaning, even when she knows she needs to stop. 

“I need you to come now, baby. Everyone's right outside waiting for you. Do you want to keep them waiting?” Jihoon asks. She isn't being serious, but something about the danger of it, of there being even a drop of truth in the words, turns Mingyu on even more. 

When Jihoon bites at her earlobe, it finally pushes her over the edge. She spasms and tightens around Jihoon's fingers, rolling her hips a little like she's trying to ride them, her slick further coating Jihoon's hand. Mingyu doesn't know which part of this is the craziest: being fingered by a woman, being fingered in the bathroom of a music show, or Lee Jihoon being the one doing the fingering. She honestly can't be sure it isn't all a dream. 

Jihoon pulls her fingers out and Mingyu immediately misses the feeling of fullness they gave her, suddenly wishing they were back at the empty dorm or Jihoon's place, anywhere they could keep going. 

Instead, they're in a situation where Mingyu simply has to pull her shorts back up and pretend like she's not making them uncomfortably damp. 

As if scripted, the bathroom door is pushed open, and Seungcheol is right in front of the two of them, looking absolutely bewildered by Mingyu's being there. 

“What are you doing? Everyone's waiting on you,” she asks, completely ignoring Jihoon save for a quick glance in her direction. The statement echoes Jihoon’s in a way that makes the hair on her arms stand up. 

“I just needed the bathroom,” Mingyu lies through her teeth. She didn't even have a chance to look in the mirror, but she can feel the way her hair and clothes and makeup are in disarray. Seungcheol won't ask questions or make accusations in front of an outsider, but she already knows she won't hear the end of this once they're back at the dorm. 

“Okay, well, you're done I assume? Let's go,” Seungcheol stumbles through her words and Mingyu nods instead of commenting on the obvious flub, hoping to stay on Seungcheol’s good side as much as she possibly can at this point. She follows Seungcheol diligently, nearly out the door when Jihoon pointedly clears her throat. 

“See you, Mingyu-yah,” Jihoon says, bringing her attention back embarrassingly quickly, just in time to watch as she waves goodbye then brings her fingers up to her mouth and sucks them clean. It's subtle and she doesn't make a show of it, but she locks eyes with Mingyu one last time and practically hypnotizes Mingyu with the action. 

She can't manage to watch a fancam or interview in an even remotely normal state of mind after that.