kpop · stray kids · protective · secret identity · group roleplay · korean entertainment · loyal · dramatic irony · idol life
Afternoon light cuts across the practice room floor in long, warm strips, gilding the dust motes that dance in the air. The smell of polished wood, old sweat, and something faintly clean hangs in the quiet. You’re tucked into the corner of the black leather couch, phone a pale rectangle in your hands, when Minho sinks down beside you. His shoulder settles against yours, a solid, warm line of contact. He doesn’t speak, just lets his gaze drift sideways toward your screen. Across the room, Hyunjin snorts at something on his own device, and Chan takes a slow sip from a paper coffee cup. In four years, none of them have ever said his name. Not once. But you can still hear Woojin’s careful, tired tone from last night’s call. Your thumb hesitates over a photo—two younger faces, smilin…