Jake woke up to golden morning light filtering through the dorm curtains, warmth pooling over his blankets like a gentle reassurance. For a brief, blissful moment, everything felt normal.

No weird dating apps. No ridiculous "one date per member" deal. No impending disaster.

He exhaled in relief, stretching lazily as the tension in his shoulders unraveled. Maybe last night had just been a fever dream. Maybe SoulMatch99 wasn't real. Maybe he hadn't actually agreed to—

DING!

Jake's entire body flinched at the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand.

Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head, dread settling like a stone in his stomach as he peeked at the notification.

SoulMatch99: Roses are red, violets are blue. You have a date, and Heeseung does too! 💕

Jake groaned and dragged a pillow over his face.

No. Nope. This is not happening.

There had to be a way out. Fake an injury? Too dramatic. Suddenly "remember" a packed schedule? Practice, promo events, back-to-back interviews—surely they wouldn't force him on a date if he was too busy , right?

Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Please. Let me suffer through endless dance practice instead of whatever this is.

Still, after a few more minutes of existential dread, he forced himself out of bed, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. Maybe if he acted normal, today would be normal.

Yeah. That could work.

Half-convinced he was manifesting normalcy, Jake padded out of his room toward the kitchen. The dorm was quiet, except for the faint sound of water running.

Oh, good. Maybe everyone already left for practice.

He felt a flicker of hope—right until he stepped into the kitchen.

And saw Heeseung.

Standing there. Effortlessly handsome. Making coffee like nothing happened.

Jake froze.

Maybe if he stayed perfectly still, Heeseung wouldn't notice him. Maybe he could just turn around and—

"Morning."

Damn it.

Jake forced himself to move, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Be normal. Act natural.

"Morning," he mumbled, walking past Heeseung to grab a glass of water. See? Normal conversation. Completely casual.

Except his nerves were thrumming.

Why was Heeseung acting like nothing was happening?

Jake snuck a glance at him. Heeseung looked annoyingly at ease, sipping his coffee like he hadn't just sentenced Jake to the most stressful day of his life.

Jake cleared his throat. "Where's everyone?"

Heeseung set his mug down. "Dance practice."

Jake nearly choked on his water.

"WHAT?!"

Oh no.

OH NO.

"Why aren't we there?!"

If they missed training, their choreographers would end them.

Heeseung, completely unfazed, leaned against the counter with a smirk. "Relax. I cleared our schedules."

Jake's eye twitched. "You... what?."

"Yeah. You remember, right?" Heeseung's smirk widened.

Jake already hated whatever was about to come next.

"Our date."

Jake's stomach dropped. Oh. Oh, this was happening.

He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't getting out of it.

Heeseung was standing right there, smiling like he hadn't just shattered Jake's last shred of hope.

Jake stared at him, still holding his glass, mentally screaming.

Heeseung casually walked past him, pausing just long enough to pat him on the shoulder—firm, reassuring.

"Wear something nice, but comfortable," he said, voice light, as if they were just heading out for a coffee run and not embarking on a potentially life-altering "date."

And then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, Heeseung wandered off, mug in hand, leaving Jake standing there—frozen.

Jake's mind went blank.

Nice but comfortable? What did that even mean in this context?! Was this some kind of test?

How is he so calm? Jake thought, gripping his water glass like a lifeline. How am I supposed to just—pick an outfit for a date? With Heeseung?!

And then, the realization crashed over him.

This wasn't just a joke. They were actually doing this. Going on a date.

Jake bolted from the kitchen like it was on fire.

Back in his room, Jake flung open his closet doors and stared at the sea of clothes. Hoodies, T-shirts, jeans —all suddenly looking entirely inadequate.

Okay, focus.

He needed something that said, "I'm totally chill about this" but also "not trying too hard" and definitely not "I'm freaking out internally."

He pulled out a plain white T-shirt. Too basic. Tossed it aside.

A button-up? No, too formal.

Hoodie? Way too casual.

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up in every direction.

His room looked like a tornado had blown through—clothes strewn across his bed, the floor, and possibly hanging off a lampshade or two.

What if he wore something Heeseung liked?

No—no, too obvious.

He glanced at his phone, hesitating. Maybe he should text Sunoo for advice. Sunoo knew fashion, knew how to handle this kind of crisis.

Jake unlocked his phone, fingers hovering over Sunoo's name. But then he imagined the reaction—the endless teasing, the smirks, the knowing looks from the others.

Nope. Not happening.

With a frustrated sigh, Jake tossed his phone onto the bed and ran his hands over his face. Why was this so difficult?!

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. Just pick something. Anything.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake settled on a simple black T-shirt and jeans—safe, neutral, not too revealing of his inner turmoil. He slipped on a light jacket, checked himself in the mirror, and ran a hand through his hair.

His reflection stared back at him, looking deceptively calm.

But inside, Jake felt like he was about to step onto a battlefield.

His palms were slightly sweaty. He shook his head, trying to shake off the nerves.

It's just Heeseung. Just... your friend. Your bandmate. Totally normal day out. Not a date. Definitely not a date.

He swallowed hard, ignoring the twist in his stomach, and took one last deep breath.

He could do this.

Right?

Jake stepped outside, the crisp air doing nothing to cool the firestorm of panic raging inside him.

And then he saw Heeseung.

Leaning against the side of a sleek black car—one of the company's vehicles, probably borrowed just for today—Heeseung looked completely at ease, scrolling through his phone like he hadn't just single-handedly ruined Jake's peaceful existence.

Jake hesitated. For one wild second, he considered turning back. Maybe if he ran fast enough, he could pretend he'd suddenly come down with the worst stomachache of his life.

Too late.

Heeseung looked up, spotted him, and grinned. "Took you long enough."

Jake sighed, trudging forward like he was heading to his own execution. "...So," he started, wary. "Where exactly are we going?"

"A festival." Heeseung smirked.

Jake blinked. A what now.

"...You're joking."

"Nope. Perfect for a date, don't you think?"

Jake choked.

"YOU NEED TO STOP CALLING IT THAT."

Heeseung just laughed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Jake slumped in his seat. This is going to be a long day.

The car ride started off awkward as hell.

Jake sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his fingers drumming against his knee, his eyes locked on the window like the passing streetlights held the answers to the universe.

The entire situation felt surreal. Heeseung had just casually announced that they were going to a festival—an objectively romantic setting—and then had the audacity to call it a date.

A date .

Jake exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to sink into his seat. Heeseung, of course, looked effortlessly composed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the console like this was just another normal day and not an existential crisis in the making.

After a few minutes of silence, Heeseung finally spoke. "Are you always this tense, or is it just because you're alone with me?"

Jake nearly choked on his own saliva. He snapped his head toward Heeseung, eyes wide in pure betrayal. "I'm not tense!"

Heeseung flicked his gaze toward him briefly before smirking. "You're gripping your pants like you're bracing for impact."

Jake immediately released the death grip he had on his jeans. Traitor. His own body was selling him out.

Heeseung's smirk deepened, and Jake groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is already a disaster," he muttered. "And we're not even there yet."

By the time they arrived at the festival, the sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow over the entire scene. Twinkling fairy lights lined the entrance, flickering against the dusky sky.

Colorful stalls stretched out in every direction, the air thick with the scent of buttery popcorn, grilled meats, and something sweet Jake couldn't quite place. Laughter and the sound of carnival games filled the atmosphere.

And couples. Couples everywhere.

Jake felt the sense of doom creep up his spine. Heeseung had to have picked this place on purpose.

"Oh no," he muttered under his breath. "Oh no ."

Beside him, Heeseung sighed contentedly, stretching his arms. "Nice atmosphere, right?"

Jake shot him a withering glare. "We are surrounded by date activities."

"Yeah." Heeseung turned to him with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Kind of perfect, don't you think?"

Jake clenched his jaw. Heeseung was messing with him. He had to be messing with him.

Before Jake could formulate a proper response, Heeseung clapped his hands together. "Alright. First things first—food."

Jake blinked. "We literally just got here."

"And?" Heeseung shrugged. "Dating rule number one: You feed your date."

Jake made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. " You need to stop calling it that! "

Heeseung only chuckled before casually walking toward the nearest food stall, leaving Jake standing there in full existential crisis mode.

"You coming or what?" Heeseung called over his shoulder.

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face before forcing himself to follow. He's just messing with me. He's just messing with me. This isn't real. It's just a bit.

The food stall smelled insanely good—the kind of greasy, deep-fried heaven Jake knew he probably shouldn't indulge in but already wanted. He was about to scan the menu when Heeseung— of course —took matters into his own hands.

"Two of those," Heeseung told the vendor, pointing at something on the menu. "And extra fries."

Jake frowned. "Wait—"

Heeseung shot him a look. "Jake, have I ever ordered bad food?"

Jake hated that he had a point.

Still, the fact that Heeseung wasn't even letting him choose his own food felt like some kind of power move. "You're really committing to this whole 'date' bit, huh?" he muttered.

"Of course." Heeseung smiled, infuriatingly smug. "I take my role seriously."

Jake resisted the violent urge to throw himself into oncoming traffic.

Within minutes, Heeseung was handing him a tray before he could argue. A burger, a cup of fries, and a soda—suspiciously close to what Jake would have ordered.

Jake hesitated before awkwardly accepting it. "...Uh. Thanks."

Heeseung grinned. "You're blushing."

Jake nearly dropped the tray. " I AM NOT. "

Heeseung's laughter rang out, and Jake had never wanted to disappear into the void more than he did at this moment.

Muttering under his breath, he stomped toward the nearest table, plopping down into the chair like a child in the middle of a tantrum.

Heeseung followed, looking far too amused for Jake's liking.

They ate in relative silence for a few moments. And honestly? It wasn't bad . The food was good, the festival lights cast everything in a warm glow, and for a second, Jake could almost forget that this entire situation was making him question his existence.

Almost.

And then Heeseung stole a fry from Jake's tray .

Jake froze mid-bite, turning his head slowly to stare at him in horror. " Did you just— "

Heeseung popped the fry into his mouth with an infuriatingly casual expression. "Hm?"

Jake narrowed his eyes. "You just stole my fry."

"Yeah. And?"

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he even supposed to say to that?

It's not like Heeseung didn't steal food from others often. That, if something, was normal.

Also, there were no official rules against fry-stealing, but this — this felt like some weird violation of trust.

Like... something people did when they were—

No. No, no, no. He was not finishing that thought.

Instead, Jake grabbed a fry and aggressively shoved it into his mouth. If Heeseung was going to be like that , then Jake wasn't going to acknowledge it.

Heeseung just chuckled, leaning back in his chair, looking like he had already won some unspoken game.

Jake, meanwhile, was spiraling.

Jake barely had time to recover from the absolute humiliation of the food situation before Heeseung was grabbing his wrist and dragging him across the festival like an overexcited child.

"Heeseung—what the hell—" Jake stumbled after him, nearly losing his balance as Heeseung weaved effortlessly through the crowd.

"Come on," Heeseung said, not even sparing him a glance. "We're playing a game."

Jake could do nothing but get yanked along, dodging passersby while his brain screamed, I am being kidnapped. This is a hostage situation.

They finally skidded to a stop in front of a shooting game booth—the kind with tiny targets lined up behind a glass case, a fake rifle sitting on the counter, and a bored-looking worker manning the stall.

Jake eyed it, immediately interested. "Oh. I can totally win this."

Heeseung turned to him with a smirk. "Confident, are we?"

Jake rolled his shoulders, already cracking his knuckles like some action movie protagonist. "I have an older brother. You don't even know ."

Heeseung grinned, clearly amused. "Alright, let's make it interesting."

He gestured to the stall next door, where an entire rack of headbands hung in display—most of them humiliatingly cute. Dog ears, cat ears, bunny ears, even a pink tiara.

Jake followed Heeseung's gaze, and the moment he realized what was happening, a deep sense of dread settled into his bones.

Heeseung smirked. "Loser has to wear one."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "You're on."

Jake fully intended to demolish Heeseung. No mercy. No hesitation. He lined up his stance, squared his shoulders, and took aim like his entire existence depended on this.

But then—

Heeseung won.

By a landslide .

Jake blinked at the score, utterly offended . "WHAT?"

Heeseung looked smug as hell. "Oh, wow. That was kinda sad, Jake."

Jake whipped around to the game worker. "Was this rigged?"

The worker barely spared him a glance, utterly indifferent. "He's just better, I guess."

Jake turned back to Heeseung, pure betrayal in his eyes. "You've done this before."

Heeseung grinned. "Maybe."

Jake resisted the urge to throw himself into the sea of festival-goers.

Heeseung, looking way too pleased, turned back to the headbands. "Now, which one should I pick for you...?"

Jake groaned, already regretting everything .

Heeseung took his sweet time pretending to consider each one. "The bunny ears are cute. But so are the cat ones..."

Jake, deadpan, crossed his arms. "Just pick one and get it over with."

Heeseung finally plucked a pair of floppy dog ears off the rack and turned back to Jake.

Jake braced himself, standing stiff as a board as Heeseung carefully placed them on his head.

Then Heeseung stepped back, eyes lighting up. "Wow."

Jake sighed. "What."

"You really look like a dog now," Heeseung said, grinning. "So cute."

Jake immediately slapped his arm.

Heeseung burst into laughter.

Before Jake could continue plotting his revenge, the game worker coughed lightly to get their attention. "Oh, and sir, since you won, you get to pick a prize."

Jake perked up. Yes. Yes. This is it. My moment of retribution.

Jake turned to Heeseung, smirking. "Yeah, Heeseung. Pick your prize."

But then—

The worker kept talking.

"You can choose something for yourself... or your boyfriend."

Jake short-circuited .

His soul left his body .

His entire existence flashed before his eyes.

Meanwhile, Heeseung—traitor, enemy, menace to society —didn't even blink.

"Oh, good idea," he said easily. "I'll pick something for my boyfriend."

Jake whipped his head around, voice strangled. "I AM NOT—"

But Heeseung was already scanning the prize shelf, completely ignoring his suffering.

Jake shoved his hands into his pockets in silent, seething rage.

Heeseung hummed, his eyes gliding over various stuffed animals and prizes like he was making some extremely important decision. Jake watched in horror as he finally settled on one.

An oversized duck plushie with an aggressively dumb expression.

Jake stared . "What—"

Heeseung turned and handed it to Jake. "Here. For you."

Jake gawked at him. "I—YOU WON IT. KEEP IT."

Heeseung pouted, tilting his head. "It'd look cute in your room, though."

Jake felt his soul permanently detach from his body .

WHY DOES HE KEEP SAYING STUFF LIKE THIS?

Slowly, reluctantly , Jake accepted the plushie, glaring at it like it had personally wronged him.

Heeseung, meanwhile, looked way too pleased with himself.

Jake was officially convinced this festival was cursed.

No. Worse than cursed. It was personally out to get him.

He barely had time to recover from the mortifying experience of carrying a duck plushie and wearing dog ears when Heeseung had suddenly locked onto another booth like a predator spotting its next meal.

Jake followed his gaze—and immediately regretted it.

The game involved two people popping balloons by pressing them between their bodies.

Jake's soul left his body.

Heeseung turned to him, grinning. "Let's try this one."

Jake snapped his head toward him, horrified. "...No."

Heeseung had already started dragging him forward. "C'mon, it'll be fun."

Jake dug his heels into the ground, gripping the stupid duck