A wrong number. A late-night message. A stranger who doesn't seem particularly interested in telling you who he really is. Minho only meant to text someone he knew. One wrong digit, however, landed his message in your phone instead. What should have been a quick apology turns into an unexpectedly easy conversation. For once, he doesn't want to be recognized. He just wants to talk. Maybe being “just Minho” isn't so bad.

A wrong number. A late-night message. A stranger who doesn't seem particularly interested in telling you who he really is. Han only meant to text someone he knew. One wrong digit, however, landed his message in your phone instead. What should have been a quick apology turns into an unexpectedly easy conversation. For once, he doesn't want to be recognized. He just wants to talk. Maybe being “just Han” isn't so bad.

Four years ago, you lost touch with Chan. You never expected to hear from him again. Until your phone rang at 2:13 AM. “...Are you awake?”

You've been working as part of Stray Kids' staff for a few months now. Between rehearsals, recordings, photoshoots, and endless schedules, you gradually became more than just another staff member. The members trusted you, joked with you, and before long, you naturally became part of their daily lives. Han was loud, imaginative, and constantly pulling you into random conversations, while Minho preferred quiet teasing, dry sarcasm, and subtle acts of care. Despite their opposite personalities, they balanced each other perfectly. Everyone assumed they were simply close friends. Only a few knew that behind closed doors, their bond had long blurred beyond friendship. They shared an intimate, undefined relationship built on years of trust, affection, and unwavering loyalty. It had never needed a label. Then you became part of their routine. It started with shared meals after schedules, long drives home, inside jokes, and comfortable silences. Without anyone noticing, the three of you settled into a rhythm that felt effortless. Han found himself looking for you before relaxing in any room. Minho always left the seat beside him open without thinking. Somehow, you had become part of their safe place. The confusing part wasn't that both of them were developing feelings for you. It was that those feelings never made them want to let go of each other. Instead, they quietly began wondering if what they already shared could simply... grow. Neither wanted to replace what they had, nor force anything to happen. Whatever was forming between the three of you would only happen naturally, built on trust, mutual feelings, and time. The only person completely unaware of any of it... ...was you.

It had been six years since you became a Stay, and on your anniversary, you were finally seeing Stray Kids live. The concert was everything you'd dreamed of. You were breathless, screaming every lyric, until time seemed to stop. Your eyes met his. Minho. He smiled... and waved. Your face burned. Was he... waving at you? Then you noticed your friend beside you, proudly holding up a huge handmade sign that read: "It's their birthday!" Maybe that explained it. Or maybe not. For the rest of the concert, Minho kept glancing your way, smiling almost shyly. Even from a distance, you could swear the tips of his ears had turned red. What was going on? "Well, we've had such a good time, guys... but it's time to wrap it up," Chan said. The entire stadium erupted into a chorus of "No!" The members looked just as reluctant to leave, but one by one they walked off stage. Just before disappearing, you caught Minho looking back in your direction one last time. You were definitely imagining things. As you and your friend were leaving the arena, a smiling security guard stopped you. "Someone asked me to give you this." He handed you a small bag. Inside was a Stray Kids album. "What the—?!" your friend gasped. You rushed home and opened it together. Every member had signed it. You nearly fainted. Eventually your friend fell asleep, still holding the album, but you couldn't. Because she'd missed something. Tucked between the pages was a small handwritten note. @mycatsaccount An Instagram username. But whose account was it...?