Chapter Text
She thought she saw him on the street corner. A quick glance, and Mira realized he was just another fair-haired guy walking the streets of San Francisco.
The wind blew her own hair against her face, sticking to her lips, and the immediate memory came: she hated windy cities. She kept walking, one hand in her pocket, the other pushing open the door of a random coffee shop downtown. It was cold, and before heading back to her hotel, she decided she needed a hot drink.
The girls didn't come this time.
Busy with their relationships, they preferred to stay in Seoul. Mira, on the other hand, decided to disappear for two weeks. She thought the cool weather might fix something in her, ease the last few months.
But all she got were melancholic lyrics for her next solo album and a body aching from dancing with headphones on in her hotel suite. There was no rest. Not when she needed to stop thinking. Stop thinking about him.
She wanted to get him out of her system, but he was everywhere — even when he wasn't.
A glimpse. A shadow. Any guy with pink hair, a bit broader, in a button-down shirt, or with a sharp smile. Her eyes always shifted, always found him.
Always remembered.
And all this because of a single night.
She'd never danced with anyone else. Not like this.
It was just supposed to be a social media challenge, a video, nothing more. One rehearsal was enough to mess everything up: hands in the right places, eyes locked on hers, and... a kiss that was cut at the end of the recording.
Mira shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. The thousandth attempt to scold herself.
Before the guilt could overtake her, the barista asked her what to order. She answered quickly: an iced americano. She gave up on the hot drink as a form of punishment. She was good at this — at punishing herself when she lost control. Maybe that habit was the root of it all. She would never admit it, of course. Not until Abby throw it in her face. But for that to happen, they would need to meet first. And she had been avoiding Abby ever since their kiss.
~
“I love your voice in that song,” he said that night, before pulling her close. “Cat got your tongue, Mira?” For a moment, she thought so.
“No.” The word came out in a whisper.
“It’s not what it seems,” Abby replied with a smirk. A smirk that made her skin crawl — and he could tell. They were too close not to notice.
“Not everything is what it seems.” She tried to pull away. “Can you focus? We need at least one video to work.” He wouldn’t let her, guiding her to the next step. Abby danced too well. Almost unfair, considering the song was slow.
~
She chose a table in the back, near the plants. The more hidden, the better. Less chance of being recognized. Less chance of surrendering to the rain outside and sinking deeper into melancholy.
Two long sips of coffee were enough for her to decide: she would think about him. Guilt-free. Until she felt sick. Until it made her numb. Until thinking about him didn't hurt, didn't agitate her, but rather bored her.
~
They’d been so close that it was hard to believe, just an hour before, they’d been surrounded by the whole group. Rumi and Zoey had given up on rehearsals, gone off with the other guys to buy something at the convenience store. Mira had stayed. Abby too. She never left until she felt she’d mastered the choreography; he stayed because he liked watching her dance. He never said it out loud, but it wasn’t a secret to anyone. Ever since the Saja Boys had signed with Huntr/x’s label, rivalry had shifted into something else.
“And don’t be ridiculous, you helped with the arrangements.” She spun, her back brushing against his chest. The AC was on, but the air between them stayed warm.
“You’re cruel, Mira.” He whispered near her ear, casually. Pretending he didn’t like it when she was rude.
That night they had launched the countdown for her solo single. Everyone excited, except Abby, who knew every detail from the start — from the lyrics to the music video. The dance was just an excuse. “It’ll help the numbers. Promo is promo,” he’d said when he offered.
~
Even in the back of the coffee shop,Mira could hear the rain. Enough to make her lose her place. To dissociate.
Enough for someone to sit across from her without her noticing.
“Earth to Mira? Hey?”
It took her a second to recognize the voice. When she finally looked up, she froze.
“Abby?!”
His smile came slow, dangerous. “Long time, darling.”
The coffee slipped, forgotten between her fingers.