Chapter Fifty One: Post-Reveal Breakdown

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[ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴠ ]

It started with a single, unassuming notification:

[Video call ended. 27 seconds.]

Nayoung sat completely still, phone clutched in one trembling hand. The room was silent, save for the sound of her straw slowly sliding out of her smoothie and thudding softly against her hoodie-- hoodie which, by the way, was on backwards. Her hair was tied up in what she thought was a scrunchie but now realized might've been a rubber band from broccoli packaging. Her face reflected back in the black screen: pale, wide-eyed, disheveled, and one hundred percent in shock.

Then it hit her.

Advil... was Kim Seungmin.

Kim. Freaking. Seungmin. From Stray Kids. The same man who, over a month ago, she bumped into at JYP, spilled his iced Americano on his hoodie, and in response, got called an NPC. At the time, she'd written him off as a rude idol with too much ego and not enough caffeine. She even stormed into the intern bathroom afterward and cursed him under her breath like she was in a Shakespearean tragedy.

And now he had been texting her. For months. Every day.

Her internal system glitched.

"I'm getting sued," she whispered aloud to no one. "Goodbye income. Goodbye ramen nights. Goodbye writing career. I'm going to jail in lip balm and pajama shorts."

She could already picture the HR rep from JYP sliding her NDA across a cold conference table like a judge delivering a death sentence. Highlighted clauses danced through her mind:

'Do not discuss idols.'

'Do not form relationships.'

'Do not metaphorically bite artists.'

She fell back onto her bed with the theatrical despair of a dying opera singer. "Goodbye, dreams. Goodbye, Spotify Premium."

Then she bolted upright.

"Oh my god. I called him Advil. Like that was his government name." She had a heart too. 'Advil♡︎' their chat looked like a pharmaceutical ad.

It got worse.

She remembered the voice note. That voice note. From three days ago. "He's so biteable," she had said. "I would gently chomp him like a fresh fig out of love."

She let out a bloodcurdling scream into her pillow.

And yet-- whiplash.

"Wait..." she whispered, breath catching in her throat. "Wait. Kim Seungmin was texting me. Like, willingly. On purpose." She blinked rapidly, as if her eyeballs were rebooting.

"I'M THE FEMALE LEAD." She launched herself off the bed like she'd been resurrected. "I thought I was the quirky comic relief but no-- I'm the hidden gem!"

Flashbacks slammed into her like a K-drama montage. All those little compliments he dropped. The playful teasing. The 'you're being cute' text. The way he always asked how her writing was going, like he cared.

She gasped and hugged her phone. "HE CALLED ME CUTE. SEUNGMIN CALLED ME CUTE." She grabbed a plushie, spun in a circle, and declared to her ceiling, "I'm getting that tattooed. Right under my collarbone. Gothic font. That's going on a mug. A shirt. A billboard."

She twirled. Laughed. Sobbed. "I SAID I'D LICK HIS BEACH BODY AND HE STILL KEPT TALKING TO ME? That's either love or Stockholm syndrome, and honestly, I'll take either. That's commitment. That's... marriage potential."

But the joy was fleeting.

She paused mid-spin, horror creeping back in like a slow virus. "What if... he only texted me because he knew it was me?" she whispered, her lip trembling. "What if he didn't actually like my writing and he was just... monitoring me like a wild raccoon?"

She sat down like her knees gave out. "What if this was just pity? What if I'm the office joke?"

"He's been playing the long game," she muttered. "Was this revenge? Was I the villain all along? That's why he called me an NPC. That wasn't a random insult. That was personal."

Her mind spiraled.

The coffee incident. The 'pretending to work insult. The NPC line. All of it lined up too perfectly. "Oh my God, he knew. He knew the whole time." She stared at the ceiling, convinced Seungmin had a group chat with other idols titled 'Intern Chronicles', where they shared screenshots of her messages and rated her simping on a scale of one to FBI watchlist.

"I wrote FANFICTION about him while he was READING IT," she groaned, rocking back and forth like a cryptid. "I used the phrase 'I'd risk jail time to hug him.'"

But suddenly-- clarity.

"But... he stayed." She looked at her phone, lips parted. "I said the weirdest stuff. I simped for him. I thirsted after him. I was a trainwreck and he still kept talking to me."

Her eyes shimmered with tears. "That's soulmate behavior. You know what that means? Husband behavior. That's listening, babe."

She rolled over, grabbed her journal, and wrote in big block letters: "SEUNGMIN SAW MY ROCK BOTTOM AND SAID, 'YES. HER.'"

She clutched the notebook to her chest. "He saw the unfiltered me. The chaotic, caffeine-fueled, feral gremlin I truly am. And he flirted with me anyway. Once, but it still counts."

She flipped over like a rotisserie chicken. Face wide with wonder. "I said the dumbest, thirstiest things to him... and he stayed." Her eyes filled with sudden awe. "He must... actually like me."

Tears welled up. She gripped her phone like it held the Holy Grail. "He saw me simp. At my worst. At my Wattpad-core lowest. And he STILL didn't block me? That's loyalty. That's love. That's Biblical."

She sat up. "He encouraged me. He made fun of my writing in the gentlest way possible. He remembered my rants. MY RANTS."

She scrambled to grab her journal and screamed into it: "HE SAID I WAS CUTE. I AM CUTE. TO SEUNGMIN. I'M CUTE TO SEUNGMIN."

But doubt lingered.

She curled up like a shrimp. "Unless... he's just really polite. What if he felt trapped in the conversation because he didn't want to hurt my feelings?"

She imagined Chan projecting her texts onto a big screen like an intervention. 'So, this is the girl who said she'd kiss Seungmin's kneecaps.'

Hyunjin would reenact her voice notes. Felix would giggle and pat her head like she was a lost toddler.

She screamed into her pillow again, voice muffled, "I should've moved to the mountains. I could've been a goat farmer."

Outside her room, chaos.

"Na baby?" her oldest sister called gently, knocking. "Are you... sobbing?"

"I'M FINE," Nayoung shouted. "JUST FOUND OUT MY TEXTING BUDDY WAS A CELEBRITY AND NOW I'M IN LOVE AND ALSO POSSIBLY GETTING FIRED."

Minseo peeked through the door, wide-eyed. "She's spiraling."

"She's definitely in love," whispered the other. "Like... delusion-grade love."

"Should we sedate her?"

"She's the youngest. This is who she is now. Let her ride the storm."

And still on the floor, hoodie backwards, Nayoung whispered with quivering lips: "God really said: suffer for 23 years and then receive an idol boyfriend. Thank you, Lord."

And for once, she believed it.

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Author's Note:

HELLO. HI. EXCUSE ME. WHO GAVE YOU GUYS PERMISSION TO REACH THE TARGET IN 16 HOURS???

I was just over here casually breathing and now I'm SOBBING??? How-- how did you do that??? What's the secret?? Do you all have a group chat? A secret summoning circle? Are you in a cult??? Am I in a cult???

Reveal your methods or JOIN BALDRACHA IMMEDIATELY. We have unhinged energy and no hair left.

I love you. I'm scared of you. I'm grateful. I'm bald. (Lmao, no I'm not.)

Last chapter's answer:Hyunjin

Quote of the day:Oh your voice is so sweet

Anyways hi, how are you?

As always Lee (> •-•)> will be taking your votes and comments

Thanks for readingCya🖤