Chapter 1

Mina never thought she was genuinely a shy person. Yet somehow, everyone around her insisted otherwise.

She was on her lunch break, seated at a small table in the breakroom with her two coworkers—who had long since become her closest friends. Staring at the women across from her, Mina felt her hope slowly slipping away. Here she was, twenty-seven years old, gainfully employed, and once again asking her corny coworkers for dating advice.

Nayeon sat to her right, casually scrolling through her phone, while Chaeyoung leaned forward with her elbows on the table, clearly invested.

“I don’t know,” Chaeyoung said gently. “Maybe you just need to open up more.”

Mina let out a quiet sigh and planted her chin on the table, her cheek squishing slightly against the surface. “And how exactly do I do that?”

Nayeon finally looked up. “You just put yourself out there more,” she said easily, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Chaeyoung was two years younger than Mina, but she’d always felt softer—more careful with her words. The three of them had met when they started working at JYP Incorporated around two or three years ago, and over time, Chaeyoung had naturally settled into the role of the gentle mediator between Mina and Nayeon’s bold energy.

Nayeon was outspoken and effortlessly social—someone who seemed to know people in every department—Chaeyoung was quiet, observant, and thoughtful. Her voice was soft, almost delicate, and she spoke as if she was always making sure her words wouldn’t land too harshly.

She had button-like features and a slender frame, her face framed by a short bob that brushed her shoulders and curled slightly at the ends. A swooped bang fell neatly to one side, adding to the soft, almost endearing quality of her appearance. Dressed in a black blazer over a white button-up—collar slightly undone—paired with tailored slacks, she carried a faintly messy charm that somehow suited her perfectly.

Chaeyoung was cute. Undeniably so. And from the moment Mina had met her, she’d thought of her like a younger sister.

Right now, Chaeyoung was being sincere—trying, genuinely, to help. She met Mina’s eyes with a small, encouraging smile, as if to say she believed Mina was capable of more than she gave herself credit for.

Mina, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure.

Breaking the conversation, Chaeyoung snickered softly and glanced toward Nayeon. “Easy for you to say,” she teased. “Not everyone is like you. Some people are genuinely terrifying.”

Nayeon rolled her eyes at the comment.

She was a year older than Mina and, like both of them, worked as an associate at JYP Incorporated. Compared to Mina, though, Nayeon was much more open—almost unapologetically so. She’d admitted more than once that she was very much into hookup culture, though she always made one thing clear: she would never sleep with anyone she worked with. Anyone she messed around with stayed firmly outside the office.

Mina couldn’t quite remember how she and Nayeon had become friends in the first place. Somehow, it had just… happened. And somehow, it worked.

Nayeon was striking—undeniably pretty. Her face had these soft, doll-like features that Mina had always admired, almost in awe. There was something bunny-like about her, Mina thought—her bright eyes, her perfectly shaped ears, the warmth in her expressions. Her long brunette hair flowed past her chest, always styled effortlessly.

She wore a black blazer over a crisp white button-up, neatly fastened all the way to her neck. Unlike Mina or Chaeyoung, she paired it with a semi-short plaid skirt—one that somehow never got her reprimanded despite how perfectly it fit her hips and frame. She wore stockings beneath it, completing the look with ease. Nayeon was always put together. Always polished. Always sexy without even trying.

Her makeup was subtle but intentional, her ears adorned with silver jewelry. Mina noticed she often wore a necklace too—something small and delicate that you wouldn’t catch unless you were paying attention.

Outside of work, Nayeon loved fashion. Shopping was practically a hobby, and if Mina ever needed advice on what to wear, Nayeon was always the first person she asked. She loved drinking, loved bars, loved clubs. Between the three of them, she was easily the most outgoing—the most fun, the most willing to stay out late and chase the night wherever it led.

It wasn’t hard to understand why she enjoyed sex as much as she did.

And yet, despite all that confidence, it always surprised Mina how little Nayeon believed she was “girlfriend material.” She’d only been in a handful of relationships, and none of them serious in the past five years. Mina sometimes wondered if that was insecurity talking—but she never said it out loud.

Still, Nayeon tried, in her own way, to push Mina out of her shell. Sometimes she did it gently. Sometimes… not so much. There had been moments where her words stung more than she probably intended.

But Mina knew—truly knew—that Nayeon’s bluntness came from a place of care. Nayeon had admitted more than once that she didn’t mean to be harsh, that she wasn’t trying to be a bitch. She cared deeply about her friends, even if her delivery wasn’t always perfect.

And despite everything, Mina looked up to her for that honesty.

Mina didn’t want to admit it, but when they’d first started working together, she’d been a little envious of Nayeon.

Nayeon wasn’t a virgin. She’d never pretended to be. In fact, she spoke openly—almost proudly—about how much she enjoyed hookup culture. It wasn’t surprising. Nayeon was gorgeous, effortlessly attractive, the kind of person attention naturally gravitated toward. Mina had always assumed it made sense that her life unfolded the way it did.

Still.

When Nayeon suddenly spoke up again, her tone sharp and careless, Mina felt her stomach tighten.

“You’re scary for not getting laid yet,” Nayeon said bluntly. “If you keep it up, you’re gonna shrivel up down there.”

Mina bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to ground herself.

Chaeyoung’s head snapped toward Nayeon, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Hey—what the hell?” she said immediately. “That’s rude. Don’t say that.”

Mina pressed her lips together, choosing silence over reaction. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack if she tried to respond.

Chaeyoung, as always, was the one stepping in—gentle but firm, small but unafraid to take up space when it mattered. She was younger, quieter in her own way, yet always trying to be the bigger person. Always sticking up for Mina when Mina didn’t know how to stick up for herself.

And for that, Mina was quietly grateful—even if she never said it out loud.

Nayeon barked back almost immediately, her tone sharp. “I mean, am I wrong, Chae? Minari really needs to experience life.”

Chaeyoung hesitated before responding, her brows knitting together as she chose her words carefully.

“But sex isn’t everything,” she said. She let out a heavy sigh, then turned fully toward Mina. Her voice softened. “Just… do it when you’re ready, okay? And do it with someone who actually cares about you.”

On the other side of Mina, Nayeon scoffed. Chaeyoung’s eyes twitched slightly at the sound.

“Don’t listen to her,” Nayeon cut in, waving a hand dismissively. “Trust me, it’s better to do things on your own terms. Sex is just sex. You should loosen up and experience life already—before you get old.”

Chaeyoung shook her head, frowning now.

“She’s not old, Nayeon. And it’s her first time,” she said, her voice firmer. “She needs to feel safe and secure, and—”

“—blah, blah, blah,” Nayeon interrupted.

The back-and-forth continued, words overlapping, opinions clashing, each of them convinced they were right.

Mina sat there quietly, hands folded in her lap, unsure where to look. Her gaze drifted between the two of them, her chest tight. She didn’t know what to say—didn’t even know what she was supposed to feel. One voice told her she was behind, sheltered, missing out. The other told her it was okay to wait, that she didn’t owe anyone anything.

The noise of it all made her head spin.

And for the first time that afternoon, Mina wondered if the problem wasn’t that she was shy—but that everyone else seemed so sure about something she wasn’t ready to understand yet.

Nayeon suddenly snapped her fingers, the sharp sound startling Mina out of her thoughts. Mina looked up just in time to see Nayeon’s face light up, eyes bright with sudden excitement.

“Oh—guys,” Nayeon said loudly, nearly shouting, “I just got an idea.”

Chaeyoung let out a dramatic sigh, already bracing herself. “What now?”

Nayeon leaned forward, grinning. “How about we go out this Friday. Just the three of us.”

That immediately caught Mina’s attention. She liked spending time with them—despite everything, these were her closest friends. Sitting up straighter, she nodded. “Sure. Where were you thinking? The movies again?”

“The club,” Nayeon cut in instantly. Mina squinted. “What?”

Nayeon launched right into it, clearly pleased with herself. She’d seen a flyer online for a small event happening at a nearby club—something loosely tied to work connections. “There’ll be a lot of people there,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

Chaeyoung stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “Perfect for what?”

Nayeon didn’t hesitate. “To get Mina laid, obviously.”

Chaeyoung nearly choked. “You want her to meet people from our company?” She shot Nayeon a look. “Aren’t you the one who refuses to mess with coworkers?”

Nayeon crossed her arms, offended. “That’s my rule. This is for Mina. She needs to put herself out there. This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Mina shifted uncomfortably, hands twisting together. “I don’t know… do you really think this is a good idea?”

Nayeon softened slightly, her tone turning reassuring. “I do. Seriously. You’ll be fine. Just go, have fun. No pressure.”

Mina hesitated—but then nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Chaeyoung immediately placed a hand on Mina’s shoulder, concern written all over her face. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she said gently. “You know that, right?”

“Oh my god, Chaeyoung,” Nayeon groaned. “She said yes. It’ll be fun.”

Chaeyoung ignored her, looking only at Mina. “Just… do things on your own terms. Don’t listen to her if it feels wrong.”

Nayeon checked the time on her phone and stood up abruptly. “Lunch is over. Back to work. But seriously—Friday. Get excited.”

With that, she swept out of the break room, blending into the crowd of employees heading back to their desks.

Mina exhaled slowly, glancing at the clock. “Guess it’s time,” she murmured.

Chaeyoung nodded, offering her a small, reassuring smile as they stood and headed back toward their cubicles—Mina’s mind already drifting to Friday, her stomach knotted with equal parts nerves and curiosity.

—-

By the time Friday night actually arrived, Mina already felt exhausted—and it hadn’t even started yet.

She went through her workday in a blur, barely processing emails or meetings, her mind stuck on what was coming after. Once she clocked out, she went straight home, showered, and let Nayeon’s earlier instructions echo in her head as she got dressed. The black dress fit her perfectly—too perfectly, she thought. It shimmered subtly under the light, clinging just enough to make her feel exposed. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back.

She looked… good. Undeniably so.

And that somehow made everything worse.

The moment Mina stepped into the club, regret hit her like a wave.

It was loud—music thumping through her chest, lights flashing in bursts of color, bodies everywhere. Way more people than she expected. But then again, JYP Incorporated was massive. Eight to ten floors of employees, and Mina only knew a fraction of them. Still, seeing so many unfamiliar faces made her stomach twist.

She felt eyes on her almost immediately.

Maybe it was paranoia. Or maybe it wasn’t.

Either way, she suddenly became hyper-aware of her bare arms, the hem of her dress brushing against her thighs, the way people seemed to glance just a second too long. She folded her arms slightly, trying to make herself smaller, even though the dress—and the night—refused to let her.

They settled at a small table off to the side of the dance floor. Mina barely had time to breathe before Chaeyoung returned with drinks in hand.

“Here,” Chaeyoung said gently, placing one in front of her.

Mina stared at the glass before finally looking up. “Chae… I don’t know if I should’ve came.”

Chaeyoung frowned, immediately sitting closer. “What do you mean?” Her eyes softened as she looked Mina up and down. “You look amazing. Seriously. Nayeon really outdid herself.”

“That’s kind of the problem,” Mina muttered.

Chaeyoung smiled sympathetically. “Just take it slow, okay? No pressure.”

Mina nodded and took a small sip—barely enough to taste it, barely enough to feel anything. Her nerves didn’t budge.

Chaeyoung hesitated, then said carefully, “Maybe… you could try talking to someone? Just for a bit. You don’t have to do anything.”

Mina opened her mouth to respond—

And then she felt it.

A presence.

Her body stiffened as a man approached the table, stopping just close enough to invade her space. Mina froze, heart jumping into her throat. She didn’t even look at him right away, her grip tightening on the glass in her hand.

Chaeyoung noticed instantly.

“Hey,” Chaeyoung said, polite but alert, turning toward him. “Can we help you?”

Mina finally looked up, pulse racing, every instinct screaming at her to retreat—unsure whether this was the moment she was supposed to be brave… or the moment she wished she’d never come at all.

Mina stiffened the moment the man stopped at their table and was facing the both of them.

He was tall—really tall—well over six feet, with a stocky build that made him stand out immediately in the crowded club. His face was rough around the edges, a bit of stubble lining his jaw and upper lip, like he hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days. He looked slightly worn, almost beat-up in a way that suggested late nights and bad habits. Multiple earrings lined his ears, catching the flashing lights as he leaned closer.

Bad boy, Mina thought instinctively.

He was the exact opposite of anyone she’d ever imagine speaking to at work. His hair was messy and shaggy, parted loosely to one side, like he desperately needed a haircut but didn’t care enough to get one. Still—unfortunately—he was undeniably attractive. His features were sharp and blocky, striking in a way that made it hard not to notice him.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in just enough that Mina could hear him over the music. “I’m Kris. Have we met before?”

Mina’s heart skipped, panic flaring immediately. She didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced helplessly at Chaeyoung, her eyes screaming a silent please no, I don’t want this.

Chaeyoung caught it instantly.

“No,” she said before Mina could even open her mouth, her tone polite but firm. “I don’t think we have. Sorry—we’re waiting for someone.”

Kris blinked, clearly a little taken aback. “Oh. Okay. Yeah—alright,” he said, lifting his hands slightly in surrender before stepping away and disappearing back into the crowd.

The second he was gone, Mina let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging as relief washed over her.

“Thank God,” she muttered under her breath.

She wrapped her fingers around her glass, staring down at it, her chest still tight. She didn’t know how to deal with people like that—confident strangers, loud spaces, expectations she never asked for. The more she sat there, the more she wondered if coming tonight had been a mistake.

Maybe she was never meant for places like this at all.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, tension finally draining from her spine as she stared down at the condensation sliding down her glass. “Thank you,” she murmured, voice barely audible over the music.

Chaeyoung leaned in closer, her tone gentle but firm. “You don’t owe anyone your time, okay? Not here. Not anywhere.”

Mina nodded, swallowing. “I just… froze. He wasn’t even doing anything wrong, but I panicked.” She rubbed her thumb against the rim of the glass, a nervous habit. “I feel stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Chaeyoung said immediately. “You’re overwhelmed. There’s a difference.”

Mina risked a glance around the club again. The lights felt harsher now, the crowd louder. She noticed how easily other people laughed, flirted, leaned into conversations like this was second nature. It felt like she was watching everything through thick glass—present, but not really part of it.

“I don’t think this is for me,” Mina admitted quietly. “I don’t think I’m built for this kind of thing.”

Chaeyoung studied her for a moment, then smiled softly. “That’s okay too. You don’t have to be.”

“I feel bad,” Mina said. “Like I’m ruining the night.”

Chaeyoung shook her head. “You’re not. Nayeon wanted you to come out, yeah—but not at the cost of you feeling miserable.” She nudged Mina’s knee lightly under the table. “We can leave whenever you want. Or we can just sit here and people-watch. Or we can go get fries at that place down the street.”

Mina huffed out a small laugh despite herself. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make everything feel… survivable.”

Chaeyoung smiled at that, a little shyly. “That’s kind of my thing.”

Mina took another small sip of her drink, then set it down, decision settling in her chest. She wasn’t ready—for flirting, for strangers, for whatever expectations Nayeon had imagined for the night. But she was glad Chaeyoung was here.

“Can we just stay for a little longer?” Mina asked. “And if someone else comes over… you can save me again?”

Chaeyoung grinned. “Always.”

And for the first time since stepping into the club, Mina felt just a bit steadier—still out of place, still unsure, but no longer alone in it.

Mina blinked, suddenly remembering something.

“Wait,” she said, glancing around the crowded club. “Where’s Nayeon? She’s here, right?”

Chaeyoung sighed, already looking tired. “Yeah. She got here before us. She’s been drinking for a while now.”

Mina winced. “Oh… shit.”

As if summoned by her words, the sharp sound of glass shattering cut through the music.

Both of them snapped their heads toward the noise.

Across the room, a small cluster of broken shot glasses littered the floor, liquid splashed everywhere. A few men nearby were shouting, hands thrown up in annoyance. And right in the middle of it all stood Nayeon—laughing, wobbling slightly on her heels, completely unapologetic.

She was very, very drunk.

Her navy blue dress hugged her perfectly, clinging to her curves as she bent down a little too far, a thin strip of black lace from her bra peeking out every time she moved. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair slightly disheveled, eyes glossy with alcohol as she giggled at absolutely nothing.

“Oh—relax,” Nayeon slurred, waving a dismissive hand at the men. “It’s just glass. I’m just having fun!”

“Shit,” Chaeyoung muttered. “Fuck. Let me go get her.”

She stood up immediately, weaving through the crowd before things could escalate further. Mina stayed seated, watching anxiously as Chaeyoung reached Nayeon and gently grabbed her arm.

“I’m so sorry,” Chaeyoung said quickly to the irritated men, bowing her head slightly. “She didn’t mean to—she’s had too much to drink.”

The bartender appeared moments later, clearly irritated, hands on her hips as she scolded them for the mess and warned them to hold their liquor better.

“Yeah, yeah, my bad,” Nayeon said with a lazy grin. “Sorry, jeez.”

Chaeyoung didn’t respond. She simply tightened her grip, slipping an arm around Nayeon’s waist to keep her steady and started guiding her back toward their table.

Nayeon leaned heavily into her, still giggling under her breath. Mina watched them approach, her stomach sinking.

She could already feel it—the tension rolling in before Nayeon even reached them.

Tonight was about to get a lot messier.

Chaeyoung guided Nayeon back to the table and carefully eased her down into the seat beside Mina.

“Just stay here,” Chaeyoung said firmly. “I’m going to get you some water.”

She then disappeared toward the bar.

Nayeon immediately burst into loud, uncontrollable giggles, leaning back in her chair like nothing was wrong. Mina felt heat rush straight to her face. She could feel eyes on them—people glancing over, whispering, judging.

“Nayeon,” Mina said quietly, leaning in. “Can you—can you calm down a little? Please keep your voice down. You’re drawing attention.”

Nayeon waved her off. “Oh my god, whatever. I’m just having fun.” She tried to stand, swaying as soon as she lifted herself off the chair.

Mina quickly reached out, pressing a hand against her arm. “Hey—no. Just sit for a second, okay?”

Nayeon pouted dramatically. “Fine. Whatever.” She dropped back into the seat, immediately dissolving into giggles again.

Chaeyoung returned with a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here. Drink this. Slowly.”

“Why?” Nayeon frowned at the cup. “I’m fine.”

“Please,” Chaeyoung said gently but firmly. “Just a little. You’re really messed up right now.”

Nayeon sighed like she was being inconvenienced, then took a few sloppy sips. Mina’s nerves were completely shot. Her chest felt tight, her shoulders tense.

“I think we should leave,” Mina said quietly, glancing between them. “Like… now.”

Chaeyoung nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I drove. I barely drank—I can take you both home.”

Mina checked her phone. 1:27 a.m. She felt exhausted down to her bones. “Yeah. I’m done. I’m really tired.”

Nayeon’s head snapped up. “What?” Her expression twisted. “You guys want to leave?”

Mina and Chaeyoung both nodded.

“No,” Nayeon said sharply. “I don’t want to go home yet. I want to stay.”

“Nayeon,” Mina said, trying to stay calm, “you’re really drunk. You’re embarrassing us. People are staring.”

“So fucking what?” Nayeon laughed. “It’s a club. People are loud. I’m having fun.”

Chaeyoung shook her head. “Come on. Seriously. You’re not okay right now. You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

Nayeon squinted at her, then suddenly turned to Mina. “Did either of you even dance?” She leaned closer. “Did you even talk to anyone tonight?”

Mina went quiet, her throat tightening.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chaeyoung said quickly. “Let’s just all go home.”

Nayeon scoffed. “God.” She turned fully toward Mina, her voice rising. “You’re never going to get any experience like this. What—are you planning to stay a virgin forever?”

Her words cut through the music—too loud.

Mina felt like her face was on fire. She could see people staring now, no longer subtle.

“Nayeon,” Mina hissed, mortified, “keep your voice down. Seriously.”

“I’m being honest,” Nayeon shot back. “Look around. Talk to somebody already. God.”

“That’s enough,” Chaeyoung snapped, her soft voice gone. “Cut it out. Both of you. We’re leaving.”

Mina’s hands were shaking now. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts racing, anxiety clawing up her spine.

This night had gone completely out of control—and all she wanted was to get out.

Nayeon turned sharply toward Chaeyoung. “What? I’m being serious. She needs to get out of her comfort zone.”

Chaeyoung shook her head, frustration clear in her voice. “I understand that, but you’re pushing her way too hard. This is a lot for her. Your expectations are unrealistic as hell.”

“Unrealistic?” Nayeon scoffed, clearly offended. “Come on. Talking to someone isn’t unrealistic. She just needs to fucking do it already.”

The words blurred together.

Mina sat there, frozen, the embarrassment swelling until it felt unbearable. Her chest tightened, her throat burned, and suddenly her eyes were stinging. She tried to stop it—rubbing at them hard, blinking rapidly—but it was useless.

Everything faded into noise.

The music.
The lights.
Their voices going back and forth.

She couldn’t hear them anymore.

The tears came anyway, spilling over as she hunched forward, shoulders shaking. She hated this—hated crying in public, hated feeling weak, hated feeling like she was failing at something everyone else made seem so easy.

Then something snapped.

A sharp rush of adrenaline surged through her, and before she even realized what she was doing, Mina stood up abruptly.

Both of them stopped mid-argument and looked at her.

“I—I can’t,” Mina choked out, her voice breaking. “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

And then she ran.

She bolted past the table, past stunned faces and bodies packed too close together.

“Mina, wait!” Chaeyoung shouted. “Mina!”

But Mina didn’t stop.

She pushed through the crowd blindly, tears streaming down her face, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. She didn’t know where she was going—she just needed to get away.

Away from the noise.
Away from the eyes.
Away from the humiliation.

Then she spotted it.

A door—dimly lit, off to the side.

The bathroom.

She shoved it open and stumbled inside, letting the door swing shut behind her without looking back.

—-

Mina barely registered her surroundings as the door shut behind her. The bathroom was dim, lit by flickering yellow lights that cast dull reflections off the mirrors. The floor was sticky in places, littered with paper towels and footprints tracked in from outside.

She lifted her head—and then froze.

Urinals.

Her stomach dropped. “Fuck,” she whispered hoarsely. The men’s bathroom. Of course. She ran in without even thinking.

For half a second, she considered turning around.

But the idea of stepping back out into the club—the music, the people, the stares, them—made her chest seize up again. No. Absolutely not. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now.

One guy stood at the sink washing his hands, barely glancing at her. Mina kept her head down and walked past him quickly, heels clicking too loudly against the tile. She reached the very last stall, slipped inside, and locked the door behind her with shaking hands.

The second the lock clicked, she collapsed.

Her back slid down the stall door until she was crouched low, knees pulled to her chest. She pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the sobs quiet, but they broke through anyway—sharp, uneven breaths that made her shoulders tremble.

Nayeon’s words replayed over and over in her head.

You’re never going to get any experience.
You want to stay a virgin forever?

Her chest hurt. Not just from crying—but from the way those words landed, digging into something she’d already been insecure about for years. Like there was something wrong with her. Like she was behind. Broken. Pathetic.

She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, smearing mascara she didn’t even care about anymore. She tried to slow her breathing, tried to tell herself it was fine, that it didn’t matter what anyone thought.

But it did.

She hugged herself tighter, forehead resting against her knees, tears dripping onto the floor between her shoes. She felt small. Exposed. So stupid for thinking tonight could be different.

The sounds of the club were muffled in here—just a distant thump of bass, water running, the creak of a stall door somewhere else. It was quiet enough that her thoughts felt louder than everything else.

“I hate this,” she whispered shakily to no one.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there—minutes, maybe longer—but right now, this cramped stall was the only place she felt even remotely safe.

The sound of running water cut off, followed by footsteps fading toward the door. A moment later, the bathroom door opened and closed again. Mina exhaled shakily. Alone. Finally.

She let her head fall back against the stall wall and closed her eyes, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. Her chest still felt tight, but gradually, the tears stopped. Her heartbeat slowed just enough for her to think again.

Then the door opened.

Her shoulders stiffened instantly.

These footsteps were different—heavier, steadier. Not heels. Not light. Someone walked past the sinks and stopped close. Too close. The stall beside hers creaked open.

Mina’s gaze dropped without thinking, catching the sliver of space beneath the divider. Dress shoes. Expensive-looking. Polished, but scuffed slightly on one side. There was a small detail—an “M” on the leather—that her brain latched onto for no real reason, as if noticing something mundane might keep her grounded.

Her stomach twisted.

She swallowed and looked away, but her eyes drifted upward again—and that’s when she noticed it.

A hole in the wall.

Her breath hitched.

For a second, her brain refused to process what she was seeing. It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t something that actually existed outside of stories or late-night jokes or things she actively avoided thinking about.

Her face burned as understanding slammed into her all at once.

Oh.

Her entire body went rigid. Heat rushed up her neck, her ears, her cheeks. She recoiled instinctively, pressing herself back against the stall door, as if distance—even a few inches—could protect her.

Shock drowned out everything else. Disbelief. Discomfort. A sharp, almost dizzying awareness of how vulnerable she felt in that moment. This wasn’t curiosity. This wasn’t temptation. It was panic—pure and simple.

Her hands trembled as she clasped them together in her lap, nails digging into her skin just to feel something solid. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently willing time to move faster, willing this moment to end.

All she could think was how badly she wanted to leave.

How badly she wanted to disappear.

Mina froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart was hammering, each beat echoing in the quiet of the bathroom. She couldn’t take her eyes off the hole. Every instinct screamed at her to pull away, to leave, to forget this ever happened—but part of her, the part that Nayeon had rattled awake in her, couldn’t look away.

Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure if she wanted to touch the wall, or just hide her trembling hands in her lap. Her cheeks were burning hot, a mix of shame and something else she couldn’t quite name. Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts—this is insane, I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, and yet…

The other person’s sudden stillness made her pulse spike even higher. Mina’s stomach twisted with anticipation and nervousness, her chest tight. She imagined them knowing she was there, imagining her hand so close to the unknown on the other side. A part of her wanted the daring, the forbidden, the thrill of being caught, even if only for a fleeting moment.

She peeked again, glancing down at the shoes, at the carefully polished leather, at the subtle designer markings—so close, and yet so unknown. Her breathing hitched, and her lips parted slightly as she wrestled with herself. She could leave, but the thrill of curiosity—the pull of the tension—was almost magnetic.

And then, almost teasingly, she pressed her finger lightly against the edge of the hole. Just a touch, just to feel the smooth metal rim. She pulled back immediately, embarrassed, but the rush in her chest wouldn’t let her calm down. She pressed one eye against it again, careful, trembling, her pulse thundering as if it could give her away.

Her mind danced between panic and desire. I shouldn’t be doing this… but I want to see. I want to know. She could feel the warmth crawling through her body, a mix of fear, excitement, and arousal she had never experienced so sharply before. Every nerve ending in her seemed alive, buzzing with the tension of what-ifs and could-bes.

And in the silence, with the faint sound of breathing from the stall next to hers, Mina realized—whatever this was, she couldn’t step back yet. Her curiosity, her need to push boundaries, had her frozen in place, trapped in her own head, caught between shame and want.

Suddenly the other person steps closer, and their body is pressed against the wall.

Mina looks at the hole.