THE FIRST TIME LEE HEESEUNG saw you, he was peering out from behind the fence and munching on a melon popsicle, and a feeling of curiosity swelled in his chest. He was ten. You were eight, small and scrappy, talking back to your mom in fast, animated Mandarin while pointed at boxes and commanding the movers.
Your Korean was pretty minimal and broken at that time, but your eyes were so bright, and when his parents bowed and nudged him to step forward and say hi, Heeseung managed to mumble something like, "Wanna play?"
You tilted your head and paused, confused for a moment, but you smiled and nodded. That was enough. He had quietly made it his job from then on, to allow himself to stay close.
You grew up together. You were practically joined at the hip. Heeseung helped you through Korean schools, corrected your pronunciation with gentle care, and promptly offered to sit next to you during lunch the few times you didn't make friends.
You, in return, introduced him to Chinese snacks that were too spicy for him, got him to pass English, and promised that you would make it big in acting one day. When he said he wanted to be an idol, you didn't laugh.
"Then I'll see you on stage while you see me on screen," you stated, running your hair through his hair and he smiled like it was the most normal future in the world. Even as he trained late into the nights and you started taking acting workshops, you stayed close together—texts, calls, study groups, coffee runs.
Heeseung was your person.
So when Enhypen finally made its debut, it wasn't if he wanted you with him, it was when. "Be my assistant," he told you, not even 2 hours after his first stage ended. "I trust you. I need someone who gets me, and you get me better than anyone."
Initially you hesitated, not wanting to hold him back, but he was persistent. Heeseung was always persuasive when it came to you. So you said yes.
Now, years down the road, you were all but tied to his schedule. As his personal assistant, your phone was ringing and buzzing with calls, itinerary and updates almost all day long. You knew the exact brand of water he liked, the best snacks to keep his energy up, and how to fold his hoodies just right in the van.
You reminded him to stretch before rehearsals, dragged him to bed when he passed out on the couch, and made sure his mic wasn't crooked during comeback shows. The fans saw the photos of you sometimes, but no one ever connected the dots. You were always just "the assistant."
Still, there were moments—those close ones. Like when he'd call you late after a shoot just to hear your voice.
Or when his hand would linger just a second too long when exchanging his phone with yours.
Or when he would lean in during dinner with his voice barely above a whisper asking things like, "if you weren't my assistant, would you still stick by me?" and you would laugh.
You had to. You couldn't fall, especially not for him.
But Heeseung was long gone.
Heeseung was sitting across from the interview camera, dressed in a nice black jacket and playing with the edge of the mic attached to his collar. The interviewer grinned. "So Heeseung-ssi, what's your ideal type?" he said casually.
He blinked before smiling softly as if he already knew the answer. "Hmm... younger than me, pretty obviously. I don't know, someone with a little bite. Someone with guts. Long hair. Pretty eyes. Maybe a little bossy," he chuckled. "Someone who speaks three languages and doesn't take shit from anyone. Yeah, that's my type."
Somewhere backstage, probably fixing his next outfit or yelling at his manager to let him nap for five minutes, you had no idea. No idea he was talking about you.
You didn't realize how much Heeseung spoke about your childhood until the other members began teasing him about it at least every other week.
They would say that he talked about you "a little too much" every time he talked about some random moment when you were trying to learn how to speak Korean, or how you would sneak him Chinese candies under the desk at school, or even the time he tried to dye his own hair in high school only to end up looking like a tomato—until you came to the rescue.
In the present, it was no different.
You were now standing behind Heeseung with gloves on, carefully brushing his hair as it absorbed the fresh dye—red this time, at his discretion. The others were lounging in the dorm, flinging snacks at each other and teasing both you and Heeseung once in a while.
You had somehow already become a member of the friend group, it came so naturally. They all liked you too. You were cool, reliable, and Jay even declared once upon a time that you made Heeseung "way less annoying." Pretty good praise.
"So what the hell is taking so long?" Sunghoon hollered from across the room, "Hyung, just shave your head next time."
"You're just jealous of the attention I get from her," Heeseung shot back, a lazy grin spreading across his face while you rolled your eyes at him from behind. Your fingers massaged the dye in carefully, still gentle even when you lightly smacked the back of his head for being annoying.
Then Jungwon gasped. "Oh my god—guys! The interview's up."
Your ears perked. You'd almost forgotten.
That interview. The one where Heeseung supposedly had given his ideal type. Everyone scrambled around to pull it up on their phone. You, however, were the only one left to wrap up his hair until Jungwon shoved his phone in your face.
"Here," he said with a smirk, "let's see if you can pick up on it."
You blinked and leaned in. "...someone younger than me, definitely," the voice from the video echoed. "Bold, long hair, kinda bossy—she keeps me on my toes. Knows three languages. I don't know, someone who gets me."
You stared at the screen, your lower lip already protruding. Ouch. Your heart twisted in your chest, something warm and sad washing behind your ribcage. He had never told you those words. You didn't even know he liked anybody at all.
Your eyes flicked down the comments - most were shipping him with a popular female idol—a beautiful one. One with long legs, a famous laugh, and someone who is definitely not you.
"OMG it must be ____ from that team, they're always at the same awards shows!"
"But she only speaks Korean and basic English??"
"He said THREE languages, guys."
"Can't be her, she doesn't even give off a bossy type like lol."
You frowned again, and handed the phone back. "It must be nice to have someone he likes" you said softly, like you weren't sure if you were joking or not.
The members went dead quiet for a moment. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance. Jay blinked. Jungwon lifted himself off the couch with a groan. "You're joking," Sunoo said, laughing in disbelief. "You're actually serious? You really don't know?"
Heeseung turned his head slightly. "Wait-what are you talking about?" You stared at the ground. Heeseung stood up, his towel around his neck and the dye still setting. He tilted his head to look at Jungwon's phone. He didn't just look at the phone, though. He looked at the comments. He looked at the shipping. He looked at the name. His jaw tightened. You weren't looking at him anymore.
You were pretending to pack up the dye kit, stuffing gloves into plastic bags as if your heart wasn't on the brink of falling out of your chest. He took two steps forward. "Hey," he forgot to whisper, the tone was low, careful. "That... it wasn't about her."
You froze. You looked up. Heeseung exhaled. "I was talking about you. You idiot."
Your eyes went wide. Jake whopped. Sunghoon started clapping. Sunoo literally threw a pillow in the air. The others were screaming. And somewhere in the madness of your own surprise and his soft, stupid grin.
"What?" you mumbled, your voice only barely audible, eyes flicking between Heeseung and his members as if they were going to jump out and say this was all fake, that you were being pranked. But Heeseung didn't laugh.
His jaw popped slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck as if it might ease the pressure of everyone staring at him, and finally said, "I like you," again, a bit stronger this time, with his eyes dropping to the floor before they found you again. "I've liked you for a while. I know this is messy, with me... being who I am, and you being my assistant, and us knowing each other for like forever. But I meant what I said in that interview. It wasn't off the whim or random."
You didn't say anything. "And—" he was fast now, stumbling with words, like he was scared he would lose courage if he stopped talking, "I found you the acting job. Not a small one. A lead—you're the lead. And I don't want to spill, but your co-actor... may or may not be me." His ears turned red. "I pulled some strings. I just... wanted to keep my promise."
"MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY??"
"Wait wait wait—how are y'all not dating already? This is some enemies to lovers stuff—except they're not enemies, just both dumb."
Sunoo was literally waving his phone around. "WE NEED TO MAKE A FAN ACCOUNT. You guys don't know this, but I have been saving videos since like last year. Do you know how many soft moments I have saved of you two???"
"Remember that time she fixed his tie for that shoot and he smiled for the first time that morning?" Jungwon chimed in, already on Photoshop preparing a layout.
"Post it anonymously," Jake laughed as he already started thinking of usernames. "'@heeandhisgirlmoments'? '@bossyandbunny'? No one will even guess it's her right? I mean, she's lowkey."
You were stuck in place, still processing the fact that not only did Heeseung confess, but Heeseung gave you the lead role in a huge drama... with him. Your chest had way too many emotions at once and it felt overwhelming so you did the only thing you could do at that moment which was step forward and hug him.
It wasn't just a hug. It was soft, slow, as if everything that was unspoken for years just came out in that moment. Heeseung froze for a second then exhaled and wrapped his arms around you tight—burying his face in your neck.
"About time," Jay exclaimed in a low voice.
"Come on. Just go kiss her," Sunghoon foolishly whispered to Jungwon, who immediately began recording like a psychopath.
And, yeah. Maybe Heeseung did kiss you after that. A little shyly, but still his. His hand brushed your jaw like you were glass, and your fingers curled into the sleeves of his hoodie, heart beating louder than the others' giggles.
"OH YEAH THAT ONE'S GOING ON THE FANPAGE."
When you finally pulled away from Heeseung, your cheeks flushed and your heart doing backflips, you turned around to the chaos committee a.k.a. the rest of Enhypen, and saw them all huddled together on the couch cackling over their phones.
"Guys, what are you doing-" you started, but it was too late. Jungwon was giggling like a maniac as he replayed a video of you at the waterpark, arms around Heeseung's neck as he carried you on his back, with Ni-ki splashing water at both of you in the background yelling "Hyung! She's not even that light!!"
Another clip was of you feeding Heeseung a bite of rice with you yelling at him for not moving off the couch, where he smirked lazily with his head in your lap. All at once, your heart sank and soared.
These weren't just random videos—these were yours, soft and unfiltered. "Wait—how do you have all of this??" you asked with wide eyes.
Sunoo just winked. "We're always watching."
And then, you saw it.The fanpage. Already created. Already posting. Already viral.
Comments coming in thick and fast underneath the account @enhyhub_loveline (definitely Jungwon, you saw the watermark and his editing style).
Fans had already started musing.
"Wait, is that Sunghoon's laugh I hear in the background?"
"Ni-ki splashing them?? The person has to be someone close."
"No one is denying it so it's practically legitimate members consent?"
"Does that mean Heeseung only needs to say it and they're official?"
Your fingers swiped across the screen as you had an epiphany: the public connecting the dots, but they didn't know it was you yet. Heeseung leaned over your shoulder, scanning the comment section.
At first, he didn't say anything. He just repossessed with a humoured laugh. "Well, I guess there's some confirming I need to do."
And just like that, the fandom is going to lose their shit.
