Chapter Text
William had never been in love.
He had never even had a proper crush, unless one counted the brief three-day period in primary school when he had decided a classmate was pretty because she shared her strawberry candy with him. Even then, he had forgotten about her by the following Monday.
There had simply never been time for anything more serious.
His teenage years had disappeared into rehearsal rooms, vocal lessons, dance practices, monthly evaluations, schoolwork completed at impossible hours, and the constant pressure of proving that he deserved the opportunities placed in front of him. Then LYKN had happened, and William’s already crowded life had become a blur of recordings, concerts, interviews, brand appearances, fittings, livestreams, and flights taken before sunrise.
Romance belonged to other people.
It belonged to dramas he watched in pieces on his phone, usually while someone fixed his hair. It belonged to lyrics he sang convincingly beneath stage lights. It belonged to fans who sent letters describing first love with enough detail to make William smile even if he did not entirely understand what they meant.
William understood affection. He loved his family. He loved his members. He loved performing. But that dizzy, foolish thing everyone kept writing songs about? No. Cupid had apparently taken one look at William’s schedule and decided to postpone the appointment.
Unfortunately for William though, or maybe fortunately, Cupid had finally found an opening in his schedule.
At twenty-one years old, during a brand event in the middle of Thailand, William Kaewpanpong was about to be struck so thoroughly that he would nearly trip over his own feet in front of hundreds of people.
The event was being held inside a sprawling shopping complex, with a large stage built in the central atrium. Every floor above it was lined with fans leaning over glass railings, phones raised and banners stretched between eager hands.
The noise was enormous. It rolled through the venue in bright, excited waves, growing louder whenever one of the screens beside the stage flashed a member’s face. LYKN’s songs played through the speakers while staff members rushed around backstage, checking microphones and giving last-minute instructions.
William stood in front of a mirror while a stylist fixed the collar of his jacket.
His outfit was white and silver, sharp enough to match the sleek branding of the event but soft enough to suit the image the company usually leaned into for him. His hair had been styled away from his forehead, though a few pieces already threatened to fall forward.
“Stop moving,” the stylist scolded. “You are bouncing.”
“I’m warming up.”
“You’re making my job difficult.”
William grinned at her through the mirror. The grin came easily. Most things did when he was about to go onstage.
Performing always lit something inside him. It sharpened him, gathering all his scattered energy into a single point. Offstage, William could be playful and clingy, forever draping himself over whichever member was nearest. Fans often compared him to a puppy, and his members encouraged the description whenever it gave them an excuse to pat his head or tease him.
Onstage was different. The softness remained, but it sat beneath something more commanding. The moment the music began, William’s alpha came forward. His posture changed. His eyes sharpened. Every movement became controlled and deliberate. He knew exactly where the cameras were, exactly when to angle his chin, exactly how long to hold someone’s gaze before turning away. William did not miss steps. He did not lose focus. He certainly did not stumble.
“Five minutes,” a staff member called.
Nut appeared beside William, already dressed and ready, and inspected him through the mirror. “You look too excited.”
“I’m always excited.”
“You’re going to exhaust yourself before we even go out.”
William turned and leaned his weight against Nut’s shoulder and tried to touch their cheeks. Nut immediately pushed him off.
“Stand by yourself.”
“Ow. You don’t love me anymore.”
“I stopped loving you three schedules ago.”
From across the room, Hong laughed. “You said the same thing yesterday.”
“And yet he lets Nong come back,” Tui added while adjusting the rings on his fingers.
Lego, the youngest, was seated nearby while someone touched up his makeup. He looked over with a smile. “Maybe Phi Nut secretly likes it.”
“I do not,” Nut said.
William wrapped both arms around him from behind. Nut sighed with the long-suffering patience of someone who had accepted that personal space no longer existed.
“William,” Lego said, looking at him through the mirror. “Your microphone pack is crooked.”
William released Nut and looked down. “It is not.”
“It is.”
A staff member hurried over to fix it. Nut gave him a smug look. William ignored him. The music outside faded, followed by the voice of the host greeting the crowd. The screaming intensified immediately. Even backstage, the sound vibrated through William’s chest. His grin widened. This was familiar. This was easy.
They moved into position near the entrance to the stage. Nut rolled his shoulders once. Hong bounced lightly on his heels. Tui checked his in-ear monitor. Lego shook out his hands. William drew in a slow breath.
The host began introducing them one by one. Then LYKN’s name was announced, and the world erupted. They ran onto the stage beneath sweeping lights and a storm of cheers. William’s body slipped into performance mode before he consciously thought about it.
Smile. Wave. Find the front camera. Turn toward the upper floors. Acknowledge the fans on the left. His face appeared across the enormous screens, and the volume rose again. William laughed, bright and effortless, lifting his hand in a playful greeting before moving into formation with the others.
The opening beat of Sugoi struck. Everything narrowed. The lights. The music. The stage beneath his shoes. William moved with the precision drilled into him through thousands of hours of practice. His voice was steady when his line arrived, clean despite the noise of the crowd. He turned on the count, shoulders rolling into the choreography as Nut crossed in front of him.
The first verse passed flawlessly. The chorus began. William stepped forward. And then he saw him. The crowd was a sea of faces, most half-hidden behind phones, signs, or waving hands. William should not have been able to pick out one person. He did anyway.
The stranger stood a couple rows from the barricade in the section slightly right of the stage. He was not shouting. He was not jumping. He held his phone near his chest rather than above his head, watching the performance with an expression so openly delighted that William felt something inside him stop.
The man was beautiful.
William was accustomed to seeing cold, distant yet charming beauties at events. There was nothing calculated about him. His dark hair fell softly across his forehead, and his boba eyes curved when he smiled, warm beneath the stage lights spilling over the audience.
William caught only fragments at first. A delicate nose. A pale shirt beneath a loose jacket. The graceful line of his neck when he tilted his head toward the stage. Then the stranger laughed at something, perhaps one of Hong’s exaggerated expressions, and William’s entire mind emptied. And he missed half a count.
His foot landed too close to Tui’s. William corrected himself at once, twisting his body into the next movement before the mistake could become obvious, but Tui’s head snapped toward him. Their eyes met. Tui’s eyebrows lifted. William looked away immediately.
His pulse had changed. That was ridiculous. There were hundreds of people watching them. Thousands, perhaps, once the livestream numbers were included. William had performed through malfunctioning equipment, slippery stages, exhaustion, and injuries he had hidden behind smiles.
A handsome stranger should not have been capable of knocking his rhythm loose. William forced his attention toward the front camera. He delivered his next line perfectly. Then, against every sensible instinct, his eyes flicked back to the right side of the crowd.
The stranger was still there. Of course he was still there. It had been perhaps eight seconds. William nearly laughed at himself. Instead, he let his stage expression deepen as the song shifted into a heavier section. The familiar confidence returned to his movements, but now it carried a strange new current beneath it.
He wanted the stranger to look at him. That thought arrived fully formed. Not LYKN. Not the stage. Not whichever member was singing. William wanted those warm eyes fixed on him.
He moved into the center for his next part and gave the performance everything he had. His gestures grew sharper, his expression more intense. When he turned toward that side of the stage, he held his gaze in the stranger’s direction for one deliberate second.
The man’s smile vanished. His eyes widened instead. William felt an absurd burst of satisfaction. Finally. He had been noticed.
The choreography carried him away before he could see anything more. When the first song ended, they separated across the stage to greet the audience. William was breathing harder than usual, though he had performed the song countless times.
Nut moved closer while the host spoke. “What happened?” he asked beneath the cheering, lips barely moving. “You almost stepped on Tui.”
“Nothing.” William smiled brightly toward the crowd as though they were discussing something charming. “I recovered, didn’t I?”
“That is not the point.”
The host turned toward them, and Nut’s expression transformed instantly into something camera-ready. William was saved from answering.
They introduced themselves, each greeting greeted by another explosion of cheers. William delivered his usual line with easy charm, making a small heart over his head when fans called his name. He searched the right section again.
The stranger clapped along with the crowd, laughing when Nut exaggerated the heart. And William’s chest tightened. It was not painful. It was something stranger. A bright, bewildering pressure, almost too large for the space behind his ribs. Cupid, having finally caught up, was apparently using industrial-grade equipment.
The host began talking about the brand’s products and the activities planned for the afternoon. William nodded where appropriate, adding playful comments whenever the microphone reached him. Usually, he was fully attentive during these segments. Brand events required a careful balance. They had to be lively without interrupting the host, funny without straying too far from the planned talking points. William knew how to do this.
Today, however, part of his attention remained stubbornly lodged several rows from the barricade. He looked again. The stranger was listening to the host now, his phone lowered completely. William could see him more clearly.
He looked older than William, though not by much. There was something composed about the way he stood, even surrounded by the restless excitement of the crowd. He was not fighting for attention or waving frantically whenever one of the members glanced his way.
William wanted to know his name. The desire was immediate and startling. He wanted to know whether that soft smile appeared often. He wanted to know what the man sounded like when he spoke. He wanted to know which song he liked best, whether he had eaten before coming, and whether he always watched William with that quietly luminous expression.
A microphone nudged his arm. William blinked. Hong was holding it toward him. The host had asked him a question.
“What?” William said.
The crowd laughed. Hong’s eyes widened with delighted disbelief. “The host asked which product suits you best.”
William glanced toward the display arranged beside them and seized the first answer that made sense. “The silver one.”
“Why?” the host prompted, smiling.
“Because…” William’s gaze drifted toward the crowd again. “It caught my eye.”
Nut made a strange choking sound beside him. The host accepted the answer and moved on. William felt heat creeping up his neck. He was losing his mind.
The next set of songs began soon afterward. William welcomed it with relief. Music gave him something solid to hold. His body knew what to do even if his thoughts had become unreliable. He settled into the opening position. This time, he was prepared. He knew where the stranger stood. He knew not to stare. He knew Nut and Tui were already suspicious.
Then the lights shifted, the beat dropped, and William looked directly at him during the first line. So much for preparation. The stranger looked back. The connection lasted barely a moment, stretched across the stage and the crowd, but William felt it with astonishing clarity.
His soul surged forward, thrilled by the attention. William’s smile sharpened. The performance became less like work and more like pursuit. Every time the choreography brought him toward the right side, he found that face again. Sometimes the stranger was watching Nut or Lego. Once, he was laughing at Hong.
William disliked those moments more than was reasonable. He answered them by performing harder. He added a small flourish to one movement. Held a note with extra power. Let his expression soften during a quieter line before turning fierce again when the chorus returned.
The others noticed. William could feel it. Nut glanced at him twice. Hong grinned halfway through the bridge. Tui looked from William to the audience, clearly trying to locate whatever had disrupted their usually razor-sharp member. Even Lego appeared confused when William nearly collided with him during a transition.
William did not care. Not entirely. By the final chorus, William was almost giddy. The fans were singing with them. Light sticks and phones swayed across the atrium. Their voices echoed from every floor.
William moved to the front of the stage for his line, chest rising with each breath, and looked toward the section one more time. The stranger was smiling directly at him. William’s heart gave one violent leap. He nearly forgot the lyrics. Nearly.
His voice emerged on time, though the note carried an unfamiliar brightness that made Hong glance at him again. The song ended with all five members in formation beneath a burst of silver streamers.
William held the final pose. His gaze remained fixed toward the right. The lights dimmed. Applause crashed over them. As the members straightened and waved, a staff member’s voice came through William’s in-ear monitor, reminding them of the schedule after the performance.
A short break. Then the selected fan-chat session. William looked toward the marked sections nearest the stage. Colored wristbands had been distributed earlier, with certain seating areas eligible to participate in the post-performance chat.
The stranger’s section was one of them. William stared. For the first time that afternoon, luck seemed to reach down and pat him personally on the head. He would see him again. Not from a distance. Not as one face among hundreds. The stranger would come closer. They might speak. William might hear his name.
A grin spread across William’s face before he could stop it. Nut caught the expression.
“Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like someone just promised you a new life.”
William waved enthusiastically toward the right section of the crowd. Several fans screamed. The stranger lifted his hand too, smaller and more hesitant than the others. William’s grin widened.
“Maybe they did,” he murmured.
Nut gave him a deeply suspicious look, but William was already turning back toward the audience. There was still another closing song and a final group greeting before they could leave the stage.
William should have been tired. Instead, energy buzzed through every part of him. He bounced lightly on his heels while the others moved back into formation, eyes darting once more toward the stranger who had somehow turned an ordinary schedule into the most important event of William’s life.
He still did not know his name. He did not know his age, his voice, or whether he would be shy when they finally stood face-to-face. William knew only one thing.
For the rest of the performance, he could not stop looking at him.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The fan-chat area had been arranged beside the stage, separated from the rest of the venue by velvet ropes and a line of security staff. A long table stood beneath the brand’s logo, with five chairs placed behind it in the order the members had been assigned. Nut sat first, followed by Hong, Tui, William, and Lego.
William had never cared about seating order before. Now he cared very much.
He sat forward in his chair, hands folded on the table, eyes fixed on the entrance where the selected fans were being checked in one by one. The stranger’s section had been included. William had confirmed it twice.
The first time, he had asked a staff member as casually as possible which wristband colors were eligible for the chat. The second time, he leaned over to Lego and pointed toward the crowd under the excuse of checking whether the right section had been announced.
Lego had stared at him. “You’ve never cared this much before.”
“I care about organization.”
“You forgot our call time yesterday.”
“That was different.”
Now William tried to look calm as the first fans entered. He smiled, greeted them, listened to their comments, and responded with practiced warmth. Normally, he enjoyed these moments. Fans were nervous, excited, sometimes so overwhelmed they forgot what they wanted to say, and William liked helping them relax.
Today, however, every time someone stepped through the entrance, his heart leapt before dropping again. Not him. Ugh. How long is this going to take??
Nut noticed before long. “Are you waiting for someone?” he murmured while the staff reset the line.
“No.”
“You keep looking at the door.”
“I am welcoming people.”
“You almost greeted the security guard.”
William turned toward the next fan with a brilliant smile. Nut laughed under his breath.
Then someone new entered. William saw him immediately. The stranger from the crowd stepped into the fan-chat area, holding a small paper bag against his chest.
Up close, he was even more beautiful. William’s posture straightened so quickly that Tui glanced at him.
The man looked a little nervous now, his earlier composure softened by the reality of being so close to the members. His dark hair had fallen farther over his forehead, and there was a faint flush across his cheeks as he followed the staff member’s directions.
William felt excitement burst through him. There he was. The person who had made William miss a step for the first time in years. The person William had spent the entire performance searching for beneath the lights. He was coming closer.
William tried to prepare something charming to say. Hello was too ordinary. Did you enjoy the performance? sounded like something he asked every fan. I noticed you in the crowd would probably be alarming.
He settled on smiling. William was good at smiling.
The line moved from member to member, beginning with Lego at the far end before progressing toward William. The stranger spoke to Lego first, bowing politely and complimenting his performance. His voice was softer than William had imagined.
William listened shamelessly.
“Thank you,” Lego said, grinning. “What’s your name?”
“Est.”
Est. The name fitted him. William repeated it silently. Est. He liked the shape of it immediately. When Est moved toward him, William’s pulse began beating so hard it felt unreasonable. He leaned forward before Est had even stopped in front of his chair.
“Hi, Est.”
Est blinked. William realized too late that Lego had only just asked for the name. A small smile appeared on Est’s face.
“Hello.”
“Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yes, very much.”
William searched Est’s expression for any sign of the same breathless excitement currently dismantling his own dignity. Est looked pleased. Warm. Polite. Very polite.
“You were standing on the right side,” William said.
Est’s eyebrows lifted. “You noticed?”
William practically sat up with pride. “Yes.”
He should have said something smoother after that. Instead, he continued staring. Est’s blush deepened slightly, which made William feel better.
“You were amazing,” Est told him. “All of you were.”
All of you. William ignored the small disappointment attached to the phrase. “Thank you.” He glanced at the bag Est was holding. “Did you bring something?”
Est looked down. “Just small gifts.”
William’s excitement returned. “For everyone?”
Est hesitated. “Mostly.”
Mostly? William smiled wider. Perhaps there was something special for him. Perhaps Est had noticed him before today. Perhaps the paper bag held a letter. Perhaps William had somehow become the favorite of the beautiful stranger currently standing in front of him.
A staff member gestured gently for Est to continue down the table. William felt immediate irritation toward time itself.
“So soon?” he asked.
The staff member laughed, assuming he was joking. Est smiled again. “It was so nice meeting you.”
“Wait.”
Est paused William reached for the small card provided by the brand and quickly wrote his name across it, adding a tiny puppy beside the signature.
“For you.”
Est accepted it carefully. “Thank you, William.”
Hearing his name in Est’s voice sent a warm spark down William’s spine. He sat back with a satisfied smile as Est moved toward Tui. The conversation had been brief, but it had gone well. Est had blushed. Est had complimented him. Est had been surprised William noticed him.
William watched as Est spoke to Tui and Hong, polite and respectful with both of them. His smile remained soft. His posture remained composed. Then Est reached Nut. And everything changed.
His eyes widened. His whole face lit up. The reserved smile disappeared, replaced by something bright and helplessly excited.
“Hi Nut,” Est said, almost breathless.
William’s smile faded.
Nut leaned forward, immediately charmed. “Hello. What’s your name?”
“Est.”
“Est,” Nut repeated warmly. “Did you have fun today?”
Est nodded quickly, “Yes. I’ve followed LYKN for a long time. I really love your performances.”
Nut’s smile grew. “Thank you.”
Est opened the paper bag. William stared. From inside it, Est pulled out a carefully wrapped gift and placed it in front of Nut with both hands.
“I brought this for you.”
For you. Not for everyone. Not for William.
Nut accepted it with visible surprise. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” Est’s cheeks had turned pink again, but this was different from the faint blush William had managed to earn.
This was full fanboy devotion. Est began speaking faster, telling Nut how much he admired him, mentioning a performance from months earlier and a particular interview answer that had stayed with him. He knew details. He had prepared. He looked at Nut as though Nut had personally arranged the stars.
William sat frozen. Hong glanced toward him and immediately covered his mouth. Tui looked between William and Est, comprehension dawning across his face. Even Lego had turned slightly in his chair to watch.
Nut, entirely unaware of the emotional wreckage occurring three seats away, thanked Est and held up the gift with a pleased smile. “You’re very sweet.”
Est looked ready to ascend. William’s alpha, who had spent the entire performance preening under Est’s attention, collapsed in offended disbelief. He had worked so hard. He had nearly fallen onstage. He had held eye contact during the chorus. He had drawn a puppy on the card.
And Est’s bias was Nut.
Est moved away after the staff thanked him and directed him toward the exit. He passed William again on the way out and offered a small wave. William lifted his hand automatically. The moment Est disappeared, Nut turned toward him.
“So,” Nut said.
William stared at the entrance. Hong started laughing.
Tui leaned closer. “Was that why you forgot how to perform?”
“I did not forget.”
Lego smiled. “He really likes Phi Nut.”
William slowly turned toward Nut. Nut hugged Est’s gift protectively to his chest.
“Don’t even think about it.”
William slumped in his chair. Cupid had finally caught him. Apparently, Cupid also had a cruel sense of humor.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Est had prepared himself for Nut. Or at least, he had believed he had.
He had spent the entire morning reminding himself that Nut was a normal person. A very talented, extremely handsome normal person, but a person nonetheless. Est had rehearsed what he wanted to say while getting dressed, again during the drive to the venue, and once more while standing in line with the other fans.
Thank him for his hard work. Mention the performance that had made Est become a fan. Give him the small gift. Do not embarrass himself. The plan had seemed simple until LYKN stepped onto the stage.
The screams around Est rose so loudly that he felt them vibrate beneath his shoes. He lifted his phone, intending to record part of the performance, but quickly lowered it again. The members were too captivating to watch through a screen.
Nut was exactly as Est expected. Confident. Warm. Effortlessly attractive. Est’s attention found him automatically whenever he moved across the stage. He had followed LYKN for long enough to recognize each member’s habits, the little expressions that appeared during certain songs and the ways they interacted when they thought the cameras were focused elsewhere.
Nut had always been his favorite.
There was something steady about him that Est admired. He took care of the others without making a performance out of it. He knew when to tease and when to step back. Even during chaotic interviews, Nut had a way of grounding the group.
Est had admired him from the beginning. That should have been the only thing on his mind. Instead, William kept looking at him.
At first, Est assumed he was imagining it. William was one of LYKN’s most naturally engaging performers. He knew how to make fans believe his attention belonged solely to them, even when he was standing beneath lights in front of hundreds of people.
That was part of his charm. William was bright and affectionate offstage, forever smiling, clinging to the older members, and behaving with enough energetic sweetness that fans had turned the comparison to a puppy into an essential part of his image.
Onstage, however, he changed. His eyes sharpened. His movements became precise. Something powerful settled into his posture, enough that Est sometimes forgot William was only twenty-one. It was impossible not to watch him.
Still, Est knew better than to believe every glance meant something. Then William nearly stumbled. It happened so quickly that Est might have missed it if he had been recording. William’s foot landed too close to Tui’s during the choreography, forcing him to correct the movement at the last second.
Est blinked. Because William did not make mistakes like that. Tui looked at him with visible confusion, but William recovered immediately and continued as though nothing had happened. A few seconds later, his gaze returned to Est. And Est’s breath caught.
No. Surely not.
He glanced behind himself, wondering whether William was looking at someone nearby. There were plenty of fans around him, many holding banners and phones above their heads. When Est turned back, William was still facing his section. Their eyes met. The connection lasted barely a second. It was enough to send heat rushing across Est’s face.
William’s expression changed, his smile becoming smaller and somehow more pleased before the choreography carried him away. Est stared after him. That had felt alarmingly direct.
For the rest of the performance, Est became painfully aware of William’s attention.
Every time William moved toward the right side of the stage, his eyes seemed to search for Est. Sometimes he looked away so quickly that Est wondered whether he had imagined it. Other times, William held the gaze with enough confidence to make Est forget the people standing around him.
Est tried to focus on Nut. He genuinely did. Nut looked wonderful. Nut sounded wonderful. Nut smiled toward Est’s section several times. But William performed as though he had decided Est’s attention was something worth winning. His movements grew sharper. His voice seemed brighter. During one line, he looked directly toward Est and softened his expression so suddenly that Est’s fingers tightened around his phone. It felt unfair.
William was supposed to be charming from a safe distance. He was not supposed to look at Est as though he had found something. By the time the performance ended, Est’s heart was beating far faster than it had any right to. He told himself it was the atmosphere. The music. The noise. The excitement of knowing he had been selected for the fan chat afterward.
It had nothing to do with William. Nope. Nothing at all.
That explanation lasted until Est entered the fan-chat area and saw William straighten in his chair. The reaction was immediate. William had been smiling at the fans ahead of Est, but when he noticed him, his whole face lit up with such obvious excitement that Est nearly stopped walking.
It was not the polished smile he used onstage. This was brighter. Almost eager. Est tried not to read too much into it. William was an idol. Making fans feel welcomed was part of his work. Still, Est’s pulse fluttered as the line moved forward.
He spoke to Lego first, complimenting his performance and answering when Lego asked his name. Then he stepped in front of William.
“Hi, Est.”
Est blinked. William had heard Lego ask, of course, but there was something about the way he said the name that made it sound unexpectedly intimate.
“Hello,” Est replied.
Up close, William was even more striking. His hair had fallen slightly across his forehead after the performance, and his cheeks were still flushed from exertion. His eyes were fixed entirely on Est.
“Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yes, very much.”
William leaned closer. “You were standing on the right side.”
Est’s heart stumbled. “You noticed?”
“Yes.” The answer came too quickly to be casual.
Est felt warmth climb into his cheeks. William looked delighted by the reaction. Est had expected charm. He had expected the practiced friendliness idols offered during fan events. He had not expected William to look genuinely pleased simply because Est was standing in front of him.
“You were amazing,” Est said. “All of you were.”
Something flickered across William’s face at the last sentence, so brief Est could not understand it. Then William noticed the bag in his hands.
“Did you bring something?”
“Just small gifts.”
“For everyone?”
“Mostly.”
Est felt slightly guilty. He had prepared a gift especially for Nut, though he had included little notes for the others. Before he could explain, the staff member signaled for him to move along. William looked almost offended by the interruption.
“So soon?”
Est laughed softly. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Wait.”
William quickly signed one of the brand cards and drew a tiny puppy beside his name before offering it to Est.
“For you.” Est accepted it carefully.
“Thank you, William.”
William smiled as though Est had given him something instead. The moment lingered with Est as he moved down the table. Tui and Hong were kind, and Est spoke to both of them politely, but part of his attention remained caught on William’s enthusiasm. And then he reached Nut.
Every prepared sentence vanished. “Hii.. Nut,” Est breathed.
Nut smiled at him, and Est’s years of admiration surged forward all at once. He introduced himself, gave Nut the present, and began explaining why he had chosen it. He knew he was speaking too quickly. He could not stop. Nut listened warmly, thanked him, and called him sweet.
Est felt giddy enough to float out of the venue. Yet when he left the table and glanced back, his eyes went first to William. William was watching Nut hold the gift with a strange, sulky expression. When Est waved, William lifted his hand at once. His face softened again.
Est walked toward the exit with Nut’s voice still ringing happily in his ears. But it was William’s gaze he could not stop thinking about.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
William should have been asleep already. It was close to midnight. He knew that. His body knew that too.
The day had started before sunrise with hair, makeup, fittings, rehearsals, the brand event, the performance, the fan chat, several interviews afterward, and a long drive back through traffic. By the time he reached the dorm, showered, changed into an oversized T-shirt, and collapsed onto his bed, every muscle in his body felt heavy.
His mind, unfortunately, had refused to shut down. It had been nearly two hours since they returned.
Lego was most likely already asleep at his house. Hong had sent a final message into the group chat complaining about his aching feet before disappearing. Tui had reacted to it with a laughing sticker. Nut had posted a photograph of the gifts he received from fans, thanking everyone for attending the event.
William had stared at that post for an unreasonable amount of time. More specifically, he had stared at one particular gift sitting near the center of the photograph.
Est’s gift.
Nut had arranged it carefully beside the others. The wrapping was already gone, revealing a small leather bracelet with a simple silver detail. It was nice. And William hated it. Not genuinely. He was sure Est had chosen it thoughtfully, which was precisely the problem.
William lay on his stomach across the bed, chin pressed against his pillow, and opened Nut’s post again. The bracelet remained there.
“Ugly,” he muttered.
It was not ugly. William zoomed in. Still not ugly. He dropped his phone onto the mattress and buried his face in the pillow. Est was Nut’s fan. That should not have mattered. William had known Est for approximately three minutes. They had exchanged perhaps six sentences. Est had thanked him, smiled at him, and accepted a signed card with a small puppy drawing.
There was no reason for William to feel personally betrayed because Est had looked happier while speaking to Nut.
And yet. William lifted his head again and reached for his phone. He opened the social media app. Nut’s name was already trending from the event. Several hashtags had appeared beneath the official tag, filled with photographs, clips, fan accounts, and short posts about the fan chat.
William tapped one. This was normal, he told himself. Members occasionally checked hashtags after events. It helped them see which moments fans enjoyed and whether anything amusing had happened onstage.
William was not searching for Est. Definitely not. He was just… checking fan reactions. There was a difference. He scrolled through dizens of photos of Nut waving, Nut laughing, Nut holding various gifts, Nut bending toward fans to hear them better. William’s mouth tightened.
Nut had leaned very close to Est. Too close, possibly. William still examined the angle with narrowed eyes before scrolling past it. Several posts later, he found a video. The thumbnail showed Nut seated behind the table while Est stood in front of him, clutching the small paper bag.
William’s thumb stopped. His heart gave a small, traitorous jump. He opened it. The clip had been taken from a distance, but Est’s excitement was perfectly visible. He approached Nut with wide eyes, bowed quickly, and began talking with both hands wrapped around the gift.
The sound was partly drowned beneath music and surrounding voices, but William could still make out Nut asking his name.
“Est,” the softer voice replied.
William watched the clip twice. Then a third time. Not because of Nut. Obviously. His eyes remained fixed on Est. Est looked even more nervous from this angle than William had realized. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, smiling whenever Nut responded. His ears had turned pink.
William laughed despite himself. “So cute,” he whispered.
Because there was something just so endearing about it. Est had seemed composed while speaking to the other members, especially William. Polite, yes. A little shy, perhaps. But he had not looked as if his entire vocabulary were threatening to abandon him.
With Nut, he was unmistakably a fan. A full, devoted, trembling fanboy. William replayed the moment Est nearly dropped the gift while taking it out of the bag and covered his mouth to hold back another laugh. It was cute. Annoying, but cute.
The post’s repost came from an account with the username NUTiEST. William stared at it. Then he snorted.
“NUTiEST?”
He read it again. The name was written exactly that way, combining Nut’s name with Est’s in capital letters that made the intention impossible to miss. William clicked the profile. The display photograph was a picture of Nut from a concert. Of course it was.
The biography included Nut’s name, a small wolf emoji, and a declaration of support for LYKN. Beneath it was a pinned post featuring several photographs from Nut’s previous event.
William’s amusement faded. He began scrolling. Nut. Nut. Nut holding a microphone. Nut wearing sunglasses. Nut laughing during an interview. Nut onstage. Nut backstage. Nut from a blurry livestream screenshot that should not have been worth saving, yet Est had added three heart emojis beneath it.
William’s expression grew increasingly flat. The account was not merely fond of Nut. It was a digital monument. There were edits, clips, photographs, translations from interviews, old performance videos, and enthusiastic comments about everything from Nut’s voice to the way he styled his hair. One post contained four photographs of Nut wearing a black jacket. The caption read:
He looks so good today. I am not surviving this.
William stared. Nut looked normal. Perfectly acceptable. Not exceptional.
William zoomed in. The jacket was nice, perhaps, but William had worn a better one last week. He scrolled farther. Another post showed Nut adjusting Lego’s collar during an interview. The caption praised him for always taking care of the younger members.
William frowned. He also took care of Lego. Once, he had given Lego half of his dessert even though William had wanted all of it. That had been a profound sacrifice. Where was the post about that?
He scrolled faster. Nut smiled. Nut danced. Nut sneezed during a livestream. Est had posted the sneeze. William dropped his forehead against the pillow.
“This is ridiculous.”
He remained there for several seconds before lifting his phone again. The profile was not entirely about Nut. There were occasional posts about the others, usually after performances or group appearances. William found a photograph of Hong laughing with his head thrown back, followed by a clip of Tui making a dry comment during an interview. Lego appeared in several affectionate posts praising how hard he worked.
William continued down the profile. Then he saw himself. His thumb stopped so abruptly that he nearly tapped the post by accident. It was a photograph from several weeks ago, taken during an evening performance.
William wore black from head to toe, his hair styled away from his face. The stage lighting sharpened his features, and his expression was serious as he looked toward the camera. He remembered the photograph. Fans had shared it widely. Est had posted it too. William sat up straighter. At last.
He opened the post. The caption read:
He looks so cool here. William can be kind of intimidating sometimes. Alpha energy indeed.
William blinked. He read it again. Intimidating? He zoomed in on the photograph as though it might explain the accusation. He looked good. Confident. Sharp. Perhaps intense, but that was the concept. Intimidating was not the word William would have chosen.
He returned to the profile and searched through the posts more carefully. There was another photograph of him from a fashion event. The caption said:
Very handsome, but I think I would be too scared to approach him in real life.
William’s mouth fell open. “Too scared?”
He looked around the dark bedroom as though someone might be there to confirm the absurdity. Because William was famously approachable.
His entire public image was built around warmth, energy, affection, and puppy-like charm. Fans joked that he would follow any member who offered him food. He hugged people. He smiled constantly. He made hearts at cameras. He once spent an entire livestream wearing fluffy dog ears because viewers requested it.
How could Est possibly think he was unapproachable?
William scrolled to another post. It was a short video from an interview in which William sat quietly while the others spoke. His face looked serious because he had been concentrating. Est’s caption read:
Sometimes William looks like he can see directly through people. Cool, but terrifying.
“Terrifying?”
William whispered the word in wounded disbelief. He had not been terrifying. He had been listening. William opened the comments as though they might offer a defense. Several fans agreed. One wrote that William had an intense aura when he was quiet. Another said he looked like an alpha who could silence a room with one glance. William should have been pleased. Usually, he enjoyed comments about his stage presence. He liked knowing people saw strength in him.
But Est thought he was intimidating. Est, whose opinion had somehow become enormously important within the span of one afternoon. William thought back to the fan chat. He had leaned forward. He had smiled. He had spoken Est’s name immediately. He had told Est he noticed him in the crowd. He had even drawn a puppy. A puppy. There was nothing intimidating about a tiny cartoon puppy with uneven ears.
William had been trying to charm him. He had been trying very hard. Had Est been nervous because he thought William was frightening? No. Est had smiled. He had blushed too.
William replayed the interaction in his head, examining each detail with the seriousness of someone reviewing evidence in a criminal investigation. Est’s cheeks had warmed when William admitted noticing him. His eyes had lowered briefly. His fingers had brushed William’s when he accepted the card. Surely that meant something.
William returned to the profile. There was a newer post from that afternoon. His personal photograph. Not one taken by the brand or one of the official photographers. It was a candid shot from the audience, captured while William stood at the edge of the stage during the closing talk. He was looking toward the right side of the crowd. Toward Est.
The caption was brief:
William was especially energetic today.
William smiled. That was far better than intimidating. He tapped the heart without thinking. The icon changed instantly. And William froze. His stomach dropped. He had liked Est’s post.
For one horrifying second, every thought vanished from his head. Then panic struck. William stabbed the heart again so quickly he nearly dropped his phone. The like disappeared. He stared at the screen.
Had the notification already gone through? Would Est see it? Would Est know William had been scrolling through his account at nearly two in the morning? William’s mind raced through increasingly disastrous possibilities. Est would tell other fans. Someone would screenshot it. The company would ask why William had been using the official account to investigate a Nut fan. Nut would never allow him to live peacefully again.
William checked the top corner of the screen. Then he stopped. The profile icon showed a plain gray image. His private account. Not his own official account. The anonymous private account he used for browsing clips and following topics without drawing attention.
William exhaled so sharply his shoulders collapsed. “All good,” he whispered.
Even if the notification had appeared, Est would only see a random account with no identifying information. There was no reason to panic. William stared at the post again. Then, after several seconds, he liked it once more. Intentionally this time. It would look strange if an account liked and immediately unliked the photograph. That was his reasoning. Nothing more.
He continued scrolling. There were more photographs from the event. Some showed the entire group. Some focused on Nut. One captured the exact moment William had nearly stumbled. The caption read:
Did William almost trip, or am I imagining it?
William groaned and covered his face. Est had noticed. Of course he had noticed. Beneath that post, Est had added a second message:
He recovered so fast. I would have left the earth.
Another post contained a short clip from the fan chat, this one showing William speaking to Est. The angle was poor, taken from behind Est’s shoulder, but William’s expression was visible. He looked absurdly eager. He was leaning so far forward that his elbows were almost off the table. William watched himself say Est’s name. Then watched his own face brighten when Est replied. He paused the video. No wonder the others had noticed. He looked like a puppy seeing its favorite person return home after a year apart.
Est’s caption said:
He remembered my name after hearing Lego ask once. He was very sweet.
William read it twice. Sweet. Not terrifying. Not unapproachable. Sweet. His smile returned. Then he noticed the line beneath it.
Still intimidating, though. His eye contact is intense.
William’s smile vanished again. “I was flirting,” he informed the phone.
Apparently, he had failed. Or perhaps Est simply did not recognize it. That possibility was slightly better. William scrolled back toward the top of the profile and stared at the username again.
NUTiEST.
He imagined saying it aloud to Nut and immediately decided against it. Nut would laugh until the end of the year. William returned to the posts about himself. There were not many. Certainly nowhere near the amount devoted to Nut. Still, they existed. Est had noticed his performances. Saved photographs of him. Written that he was handsome. Called him sweet after meeting him.
William settled back against his pillows, holding the phone above his chest. The account was overwhelmingly Nut-centered. That fact remained deeply irritating. But it was not hopeless. Est had watched him. Est had posted about him. Est had thought about his gaze enough to call it intense.
William opened the fan-chat clip one more time. His own excitement was embarrassing. Est’s nervous smile was worse. He watched until Est moved away toward Nut and transformed into a breathless fanboy.
William’s mouth pulled into a sulk. Cupid had delivered his first crush directly into Nut’s fandom. Fine. William could handle that. He was charming. He was approachable, regardless of Est’s incorrect assessment. He was also very determined.
William looked at the photograph of Nut in Est’s profile picture. Then he looked at his own candid post and quietly liked it again, just to be certain. Est might have arrived as Nut’s fan.
That did not mean he had to remain one forever.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The following afternoon, LYKN had a scheduled livestream.
Normally, William liked livestreams. They were less structured than interviews, which meant the members could relax, talk over one another, answer fan questions, and cause the kind of harmless chaos that made their staff sigh from behind the cameras.
Today, William approached the livestream with a mission. He arrived carrying two phones. Tui noticed immediately.
“Why do you have your other phone?”
William placed both devices facedown on the table. “I always have two phones. Both for work.”
Hong reached for the second phone. “Then why does the case have stickers?”
William snatched it away before Hong could touch it. “Private property.”
Nut, seated across from him, narrowed his eyes. William smiled innocently. The second phone was logged into his anonymous account. More importantly, it followed Est. William had spent an embarrassing amount of time that morning thinking about Est’s posts. He had not forgotten the words intimidating, cool, or unapproachable.
They had lodged beneath his skin like tiny splinters. William was approachable. He was sweet. He could be extremely sweet when he wanted to be. Est simply had not seen enough evidence yet.
The staff signaled that the livestream would begin in two minutes. The five members settled around the low table, snacks and drinks arranged between them. William placed his second phone just below the camera’s view. Lego glanced down at it.
“Are you watching our own live?”
“I’m monitoring comments.”
“We already have a screen for comments.”
William ignored him as the broadcast started. They greeted the viewers together, waving toward the camera as the comment feed began moving rapidly. William watched the second phone. Thousands of usernames flooded the screen. Not Est. Yet. He leaned closer.
Nut bumped his shoulder. “Why are you squinting?”
“I’m reading.”
“You look like someone’s grandfather.”
William sat back and smiled brightly at the main camera. For the first several minutes, he behaved normally. He answered questions, laughed at Hong’s story, and stole one of Tui’s snacks. His eyes kept dropping toward the private phone. Still nothing. Perhaps Est was busy. Perhaps he had work. Perhaps he did not join every livestream.
The thought disappointed William more than it should have. Then a familiar username appeared.
NUTiEST: Finally made it!
William’s entire body brightened. “There,” he whispered.
“What?” Lego asked.
“Nothing.”
Est was watching. It was time. Because William had planned this carefully. He would show Est that he was not intimidating. He would be warm, affectionate, and gentle. He would reveal the approachable side of himself that Est had somehow failed to notice.
William turned toward Nut. Nut was fixing the lid on his drink, completely unaware that he was about to become part of a highly strategic campaign.
“Phi,” William said sweetly.
Nut looked at him with immediate suspicion. “What?”
“Your collar is crooked.”
“It’s fine.”
William leaned over and carefully straightened it. Nut remained still, though his eyes narrowed. William made his movements deliberately soft, smoothing the fabric before smiling at him.
“There.”
Nut touched the collar. “Why are you acting strange?”
“I’m taking care of you.”
“You never care about my collar.”
William laughed lightly for the camera. The comment feed accelerated. He checked the second phone.
NUTiEST: William fixing Nut’s collar 😭
William’s heart lifted. Good. Est had noticed. William reached for the snack tray. He selected a small pastry, broke off a piece, and held it toward Nut’s mouth. Nut stared at it.
“Eat.”
“No.”
“Phi.”
“Why are you feeding me?”
“Because you’re busy.”
“I’m sitting here.”
William pushed the pastry closer. Nut finally opened his mouth, mostly to stop William from touching it to his cheek. William smiled triumphantly. The members burst into laughter.
“What is happening?” Hong asked.
Tui leaned back in his seat. “He wants something.”
“I don’t want anything,” William said.
Nut chewed slowly, studying him. “You definitely want something.”
William slipped one arm around Nut’s shoulders. “Can’t I love my Phi?”
“You can love me from your own seat.”
William rested his chin briefly against Nut’s shoulder, trying to do cheekies, making his expression as soft and harmless as possible. He was approachable. He was sweet. He was practically glowing with warmth. And the comment feed exploded with hearts.
William looked at Est’s account.
NUTiEST: OMG Nut is so cute
William blinked. No. That was not the response he wanted. Another comment appeared.
NUTiEST: He looks so confused 😭
Then:
NUTiEST: Nut lets William do anything to him omg
William’s smile tightened. No no no. Est was supposed to think William was cute. William was the one feeding Nut. William was the one fixing his clothes. How had Nut become the main attraction in William’s own plan?
Nut tried to remove William’s arm. William held on.
“Let go.”
“No.”
“You’re crushing my shirt.”
“I fixed it once. I can fix it again.”
Hong laughed so loudly that he nearly knocked over his drink. William checked the comments again.
NUTiEST: They’re adorable today
They. William frowned. The group moderator asked them to answer a fan question about who was the most affectionate member. Everyone pointed at William. William immediately sat straighter.
“This is true,” he said. “I’m very affectionate.”
“Too affectionate,” Nut added.
William looked toward the camera, trying to soften his eyes. “I’m friendly too.”
Tui stared at him. “Who said you weren’t?”
“No one.”
“You sound defensive.”
William’s alpha confidence slipped naturally into his posture despite his efforts. His gaze sharpened as he looked into the camera, and his smile curved with the cool assurance that fans often praised. The comments reacted instantly.
NUTiEST: See this is what I mean. He looks so cool when he stares like that
William deflated. He had been trying to look gentle. He reached for a juice box and passed it to Lego, hoping that caring for the youngest might work better.
“Thank you, Phi,” Lego said.
William patted his head. The comments filled with hearts again.
NUTiEST: Lego is the cutest baby
William stared at the screen in disbelief. Every act of sweetness made someone else look adorable. He fed Nut, and Nut became cute. He cared for Lego, and Lego became cute. He hugged Hong, and fans praised Hong’s laugh. William was doing all the work.
Nut glanced down and finally spotted the second phone. Before William could stop him, Nut caught sight of the username at the top of the screen. Recognition flickered across his face. Nut slowly looked at William. William gave him a warning stare. Nut’s mouth began to curve.
William tightened his arm around Nut’s shoulders. “Don’t.”
Nut laughed but thankfully said nothing.
The livestream continued for another twenty minutes. William kept trying. He shared snacks, poured drinks, leaned against the older members, and smiled until his cheeks hurt. Yet every time Est commented, it was about Nut’s reactions, Lego’s sweetness, Hong’s laughter, or Tui pretending to be annoyed.
When the staff finally signaled the end, the members waved goodbye. The broadcast cut off. William dropped his smile and released Nut.
“That was useless.”
Nut burst out laughing. “You were performing affection.”
“I am naturally affectionate.”
“You checked the comments every five seconds.”
William locked his phone.
Hong leaned over. “Was there someone specific watching?”
“No.”
Nut held up Est’s gift bracelet, which he had worn that day. William glared at it. And Nut’s knowing grin widened. William slumped back against the sofa with a wounded grumble. He had tried to appear sweet and approachable. Instead, he had apparently produced thirty minutes of Nut appreciation content.
That had not been the intended effect at all.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
For the next three weeks, William looked for Est everywhere.
At first, he told himself it was simple curiosity. Fans often attended multiple events. LYKN’s schedules were public, and Est clearly followed the group closely enough to run an entire account dedicated to Nut. It was reasonable to assume he might appear again.
William expected to spot him at the next brand appearance. He did not. The venue was smaller than the previous one, with fans gathered behind barricades beneath bright promotional banners. William scanned the crowd while waving, careful not to make the movement obvious.
No soft dark hair. No warm smile. No Est.
He performed perfectly, but the disappointment followed him backstage. Perhaps Est had work. That was normal. William expected him at the mini-concert several days later. Again, nothing. He searched the front rows first, then the sections farther back. His eyes moved through the audience whenever the choreography allowed, looking for a familiar face among hundreds of strangers.
Nut noticed. “You’re doing it again.”
William kept smiling toward the crowd. “Doing what?”
“Searching.”
“I’m looking at the fans.”
“You’re looking for one fan.”
William turned away before Nut could see his expression. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Nut hummed in disbelief.
At the next event, William checked Est’s account before they went onstage. NUTiEST had posted about the schedule. William’s hope rose immediately. Then he read the full caption.
I wish I could go, but work is trying to destroy me this week. Have fun, everyone!
William stared at the screen. He knew Est had work. Of course he had work. Est had a life beyond following LYKN’s schedules. Still, the event felt dimmer once William knew he would not be there.
The pattern continued. A mall appearance. A radio station visit with fans waiting outside. A music program recording. A small outdoor festival. Est did not appear at any of them. William began checking every crowd automatically. He would step onto a stage, smile beneath the lights, and let his gaze sweep through the audience before the first song began. For one brief moment each time, he would expect to find Est waiting there. Then he would not.
The disappointment grew heavier than William wanted to admit. It was ridiculous. They had spoken once. William knew Est’s name, his fan account, his unfortunate choice of bias, and almost nothing else. He did not know where Est worked. He did not know what he liked outside LYKN. He did not know whether Est had someone waiting for him at home. That last thought produced an unpleasant pressure in William’s chest.
He refused to examine it.
Est still posted regularly. Mostly about Nut. William continued following the account from his private profile, even though each new Nut photograph felt like a personal attack. Sometimes Est posted about William too. A clip from a performance. A photograph taken by another fan. A comment about William’s voice or outfit. William saved every one. He also noted, with deep offense, that Est still described him as cool.
Once, Est wrote:
William looked especially intense today. I would not survive speaking to him again.
William had stared at that sentence for five full minutes. He wanted Est to speak to him again. Very much.
The longing became embarrassing. William found himself remembering the fan chat at random moments. Est’s surprised expression when William used his name. The soft laugh after William complained about the limited time. The warmth of Est’s fingers brushing his when he accepted the signed card.
Cupid had not simply caught William. Cupid had apparently tied him to the back of a moving vehicle and left him there.
By the fourth week, even the other members had begun noticing his moods.
“You’re quiet,” Hong said one afternoon as they waited in a meeting room.
“I’m tired.”
“You slept in the car.”
“I’m still tired.”
Lego looked up from his phone. “Maybe he misses someone.”
William gave him a sharp look. Lego smiled innocently. Nut sat beside William, wearing the leather bracelet Est had given him. William looked at it. Then at Nut.
“Do you have to wear that today?”
Nut glanced at his wrist. “Why not?”
“It doesn’t match.”
“It matches perfectly.”
“It’s distracting.”
Nut raised his arm and examined it beneath the meeting-room lights. “I think it’s nice.”
William sank lower in his chair.
They were waiting for representatives from a local flavored milk brand. The company wanted LYKN for a new advertising campaign, and the meeting was supposed to cover concepts, schedules, and possible promotional appearances.
William would usually be enthusiastic. The brand was popular, the campaign sounded playful, and the table had been covered with sample bottles in different colors. Today, however, he felt too gloomy to care about strawberry milk. He reached for one anyway, hoping the colorful milk will distract him from his colorless love life.
The door opened. Several people entered carrying laptops, folders, and presentation boards. LYKN’s manager stood to greet them, and the members followed. William twisted the cap off his bottle while introductions began. Then someone stepped into the room behind the others. And William stopped moving.
Est.
For one moment, William wondered whether disappointment had finally damaged his mind enough to produce hallucinations. But Est remained there.
He wore a pale blue shirt with the sleeves folded neatly to his elbows and dark trousers. An identification card hung from a lanyard around his neck. His hair was slightly shorter than William remembered, styled softly away from his forehead.
He looked professional. Beautiful. Real. And William’s heart slammed against his ribs. Est was part of the marketing team. Est looked toward the members as he entered. His eyes found Nut first. Of course they did. Ugh.
Then they moved to William. Recognition appeared instantly. Est’s steps faltered. Only slightly. But William saw it. The surprise on Est’s face melted into a shy smile, and something inside William that had been drooping for weeks rose eagerly back to life.
He smiled before he could stop himself. Not his stage smile. Not the charming expression he used for cameras. Something wider and far too delighted. Est looked away first, lowering his gaze as he moved toward the empty seats across the table.
William followed every step. Then he noticed the bag hanging from Est’s shoulder. A clear plastic photocard holder had been clipped near the strap. Inside it was Nut’s face. William stared. It was not even an ordinary photocard. It was one from a limited album version, the kind Est had once posted about after failing to pull it himself. Nut was smiling in the photograph, dressed in white with tiny glittering details around his eyes.
William slowly turned toward the real Nut beside him. Nut had already seen Est. He had also seen the photocard. His lips twitched. William looked back at Est. Est was arranging his notebook and laptop, completely unaware of the emotional storm gathering across the table.
For weeks, William had searched crowds for him. Now Est had walked directly into a private meeting room, carrying Nut’s face on his bag, and would apparently be working with LYKN on an entire advertising campaign.
William lifted the strawberry milk to his lips, hiding the smile beginning to form. His sadness vanished. His soul sat forward with renewed interest.
This had just become very interesting.