June 2022
Hongdae, Mapo-gu
Even now, Lexie sometimes caught herself thinking back to that first week — or rather, the two brief days — she'd spent at the Lee family's temporary house.
How Woori-eomeoni had gently insisted she stay longer, warmth softening every word. And how, in those moments, Lexie had politely but firmly stood her ground — suitcase barely unpacked, heart half-shielded.
She'd slipped out early each morning, quietly careful not to run into Mark whenever word came that he might be around.
It felt almost unreal now, how quickly time had folded itself around her resolve.
Just last week, the renovation had finally been turned over — a milestone that had once felt impossibly distant.
And somehow, through luck and mix of stubbornness, she and Mark had never actually crossed paths.
She didn't know if it was fate, or simply her own quiet determination to keep their worlds from colliding again.
But for now, it was enough.
A little fragile space she could still call her own.
Now, standing under a soft patch of late afternoon sun in Hongdae, Lexie balanced her guitar across her knee and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The air smelled faintly of coffee and traffic exhaust; the low hum of the street wrapped around the gentle chords she played.
At her side, the small MIDI pad blinked quietly, its light syncing to the beat of a track she'd layered the night before.
Passersby slowed, some pausing with quiet curiosity; others drifting by, leaving only brief glances in their wake.
It was enough. Enough to play, to share something real in a city still mostly new to her.
And then — just as the last note faded — she noticed him: a young man, cap pulled low, yet his attention so open it was disarming.
"Hey," he began, voice warm, words gentle but edged with quiet excitement.
"I'm sorry, I had to stop. You're really good. Like... really good."
Lexie blinked, a soft, instinctive laugh slipping out. "Thank you," she murmured, voice shy despite herself.
"I'm Junny," he continued, offering a hand that somehow felt both casual and sincere. "I make music too. Would you... maybe wanna jam sometime?"
Behind him stood another figure — taller, calm-eyed, his posture both relaxed and observant.
"Ah — and this is Hyungwon," Junny added quickly. "He's a professional dancer."
Lexie's brows lifted in quiet surprise, but her smile didn't fade. "Nice to meet you both," she said, guitar still balanced on her knee.
Junny's enthusiasm only grew. "Really, your setup's amazing. The way you layer live guitar with the MIDI pad — it's so fresh. Do you... play anywhere?"
"I do, sometimes," Lexie nodded, her voice a little steadier now. "Mostly late sets, filling in at a bar in Hongdae. Actually... I'm on tonight."
"Really? Can we come?" Junny asked, almost boyish in his excitement.
"Of course," she replied, her words easing into a grin. "Join me at the podium if you'd like — or I can set you guys up in a quieter spot."
Hyungwon's gaze softened. "We'd love that," he said, quietly but warmly.
And so, past midnight — Lexie stood behind the booth, headphones slung around her neck, eyes half on the blinking tracks and half on the small crowd gathered below.
When she glanced up, she spotted them first: Junny and Hyungwon, slipping through the softly lit bar.
They didn't draw attention — Junny in his familiar cap and relaxed grin, Hyungwon quietly observant beside him.
She felt a small warmth in her chest, surprising even herself. It had been just an afternoon since they'd first met, but somehow their presence felt reassuring, like a gentle anchor to steady her pulse.
They made their way toward the podium between tracks. Junny leaned closer, voice just loud enough over the beat. "Mind if we jam with you a bit?"
Lexie nodded, her lips curling into a real smile. "Of course. Come on up."
For a few minutes, they shared the small space, Junny layering gentle harmonies over her loops, Hyungwon nodding in quiet rhythm, adding ideas here and there.
Lexie found herself relaxing into it — the music wrapping around them, steady and alive.
Then, as Lexie cued up her next track, Junny casually pulled out his phone.
He lifted it just enough to capture a short, shaky video: Lexie at the podium, fingers tapping her MIDI pad, hair falling forward as the lights pulsed gently around her.
Without saying much, he lowered the phone again and opened their small producers' group chat.
NShitty Boppers Prod team
JuNNAYYYYYY sent a video.
JuNNAYYYYYY:
yo look at this — wasn't she good??
found her busking earlier, now we're at her set
style's familiar huh?
she crazy good live 🔥🔥
A song later, Junny turned to Lexie, voice careful but hopeful. "Hey... mind if a few more friends come by? Just to watch. Nothing big."
Lexie blinked, caught between surprise and instinctive politeness. "Oh — sure, really, it's no problem," she said quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Part of her felt the familiar nervous flutter — but the music steadied her again, beat grounding her words.
Junny gave a small grin. "Cool. Thanks."
They moved off the podium, Junny and Hyungwon settling into a quiet table near the corner. They ordered light drinks, heads bent close as they spoke and occasionally glanced back at her, Junny's phone lighting up now and then with more replies.
NShitty Boppers Prod team
Johnny:
woah wait who's that? she sounds legit 🔥👀
Taeyong:
vibe is crazy... smooth but punchy
Kun:
great layering too, did she produce this herself?
Mark:
...her sound's diff. raw but tight. kinda hits
Jaehyun:
where is this? small club? sounds dope
Yuta:
visuals too? 👀😏 or just good music?
Mark:
bro 🙄 chill
Kenzie noona:
i get it tho, her topline and vocal chops have a unique bite
reminds me of a remix we shelved last spring
Haechan:
Taeyong hyung do you think her style feels like something we worked on?
can't place it
Kenzie:
yeah, same sensibility
Taeyong:
yo let's pull up. where's the gig?
JuNNAYYYYYY:
hongdae, small spot, she's got another set soon.
come lowkey lmao
Johnny:
say less 🧢😷
Jaehyun:
can't but keep me posted
Yuta:
lol bet. curious
Mark:
nah y'all go. tell me how it is
Taeyong:
😂 mark you sure?
Mark:
yeah, got stuff tonight. she's good tho
JuNNAYYYYYY:
see y'all soon 🏃♂️🔥
* * *
The lights above the tiny DJ booth hummed warm and low as Lexie adjusted her headphones, the crowd's pulse rising gently with the beat.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of familiar figures already settled into the small VIP nook near the back: Junny, relaxed into the low couch, and Hyungwon beside him, quietly nursing a drink.
Seeing them there — calm, watchful, quietly supportive — sent a small wave of relief through her chest. It was always easier to play knowing at least someone in the room was on her side.
Then, a few tracks later, she noticed four figures slipping into the back: tall, caps pulled low, masks on, moving with an ease that made them stand out by trying not to.
She blinked once, twice, thinking she must be imagining things — but even in dim light, some faces were hard to miss.
Johnny — she'd recognize that silhouette anywhere. And beside him, Taeyong's sharp posture, Haechan's quick glances around the club, and Yuta's laid-back swagger.
Their presence felt surreal, like something out of a past life — the part of her that was still just a fan, a girl who watched them through a screen.
Lexie's heart stuttered. What are they doing here?
She risked a glance toward Junny and Hyungwon, who were quietly talking, Hyungwon's hand gesturing toward the small VIP nook.
Junny must've invited them, she realized, warmth tinged with nerves. They're not here for me, obviously... but still.
She kept her head down, letting muscle memory guide her fingers over the mixer and pads. The beat rolled out steady, layered under the melody she'd written late one night when homesickness sat heavy on her chest.
Part of her wanted to look up, to see if they were listening. Another part held back — safer not to hope too hard.
But as the track settled into its bridge, Lexie caught a glimpse of Taeyong nodding along, Johnny leaning closer to say something to Haechan, who grinned and drummed his fingers against the table.
For a breath, the world felt smaller, possibilities just a little closer.
Focus, Lex, she reminded herself. Play the next track. Let the music speak first.
Despite the sudden spike of nerves at seeing them, Lexie swallowed hard and let instinct guide her fingers across the console.
Okay, Lex... deep breath.
In the swirl of blinking lights and bass under her fingertips, she queued up something unexpected: NCT 127's "Sticker."
A choice so bold she almost laughed at herself — she'd heard enough interviews to know even some of the members had teased about the song's odd hook, its love-it-or-hate-it vibe.
But Lexie didn't play it straight.
Instead, she twisted it: looping the flute hook just long enough to catch attention, then layering it over a thick, addictive beat she'd been building quietly in the background.
She nudged the tempo higher, cut in a groovy bassline, then filtered the sharpest edges until it felt more like a dirty club anthem than the original glitch-heavy track.
At first, she kept her eyes down, pretending total focus — but she couldn't help it: she peeked up.
And there it was.
Johnny, mouth quirking into something halfway between surprise and a grin.
Taeyong leaning forward, head nodding a little, curiosity in his gaze.
Even Haechan's shoulders loosened, a grin breaking as he nudged Yuta.
And Yuta — ever the performer — tipped his chin in amused approval, eyes glinting like okay, you got us.
Lexie's heart did a wild, ridiculous kick against her ribs.
They're listening. Really listening.
Under the club lights, her hands stayed steady, but inside?
She was laughing — not at them, but at herself, at this fearless, slightly reckless part of her that had always found a way to turn nerves into fire.
For a second, the weight of months of hiding, the fear of crossing paths with Mark, the uncertainty of who she was in this new city — it all fell away.
It was just the music.
Just her and the beat, and four silhouettes in the crowd who, even if only for this moment, seemed to see her exactly as she wanted to be seen.
Just play, Lex, she reminded herself again, lips curling into the smallest, most stubborn smile.
Just play.
As the final beat faded and the last echo of the flute loop dissolved into the crowd's low hum, Lexie let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Her fingers hovered over the console, the adrenaline still buzzing in her chest.
For a heartbeat, doubt stabbed through the glow: Did I overdo it? Was it too much?
But then she caught it — the unmistakable shift in energy at their table.
Johnny leaned back in his seat, shoulders shaking a little like he'd just said something funny.
Taeyong clapped softly, half-hidden under the brim of his cap, while Haechan threw his head back in an unfiltered laugh. Even Yuta gave a slow, appreciative nod, his gaze steady in that cool, almost feline way of his.
A quiet rush of relief spread through her, chased quickly by warmth.
They didn't just tolerate it. They liked it.
For someone who'd spent months blending into the back of the room, it felt like the first honest spotlight — and strangely, it didn't burn.
When her set ended, Lexie slipped on her jacket and packed away the small MIDI pad, fingers still tingling.
She glanced over; Junny caught her eye from the VVIP nook and tilted his head, silently urging, Come on.
She hesitated — still catching her breath from that wild remix — then exhaled and walked over.
With every step, her pulse hammered harder. Just say hi. Just sit down. They're people too.
Junny stood to make space, his grin boyish. "Everyone, this is Lexie."
Up close, the table didn't feel intimidating so much as strangely familiar, like walking into a conversation she'd half-heard before.
Johnny was first to smile, the easy warmth of someone who'd learned to break the ice a thousand times.
Taeyong gave a small nod, eyes sharp but kind.
Haechan shot her a grin edged with mischief, already sizing her up for a playful comment.
And Yuta, leaning back, simply lifted his glass a fraction — a silent welcome.
Lexie managed a small laugh, bowing slightly. "Hi. Thanks for coming to the set... and sorry for surprising you all with 'Sticker.'"
Johnny chuckled, deep and genuine. "Are you kidding? That was dope. Didn't see that coming."
Taeyong leaned forward, curiosity still bright. "I liked how you flipped it. Made it hit different."
Even Haechan piped up, teasing but impressed, "You saved that flute, noona. I almost forgot how fun it could be."
Lexie couldn't help it — a real laugh slipped out. "Drop the noona, will you? Just Lexie is enough," she shot back, rolling her eyes lightly.
Haechan grinned, eyes sparkling. "Alright then... Lexie," he said, drawing it out playfully.
"Better," she teased, her smile softening into something almost shy.
The fear she'd carried into the booth still lingered at the edges, but now it felt smaller, edged out by the warmth at the table.
She settled into the empty seat Junny had kept for her, the low pulse of bass filling the quiet moments between them.
As the night wore on, their table felt less like strangers sharing drinks and more like old friends falling into a shared rhythm. Between sips of ginger ale and laughter at some inside joke Haechan cracked, Lexie found herself forgetting, just for a moment, how careful she'd been these past months.
It was Taeyong, gentle but earnest, who brought the conversation back to music. "By the way, Lexie," he started, leaning forward so his cap's brim caught the light. "Next month, SM's running this Omega Camp again — it's sort of an in‑house writing and producing thing. New faces, old faces. You'd fit right in, honestly."
Lexie blinked, the idea catching her off guard. "Omega Camp?" she echoed, rolling the words around like they tasted both sweet and unfamiliar.
Junny, always quick to jump in, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, we can bring people in. It's pretty chill — well, kinda," he amended with a laugh. "I can pitch your name. They'd love your vibe."
Johnny tapped his glass lightly against the table. "Trust me, it's worth it. You get to see how chaotic we all are in one building," he teased, his grin easy but encouraging.
The thought tugged at something deep in Lexie — the part of her that still craved rooms filled with beats, shared creative chaos, late nights turning into early mornings over half‑finished tracks. "That sounds..." she hesitated, the word sticking in her throat before she let it slip free, "amazing. Thanks, really."
They clinked glasses — ginger ale, soda, and water mixing with the faint scent of lime and laughter.
Somewhere between teasing Haechan for spilling his drink and Johnny poking fun at Taeyong's serious producer face, Lexie found herself blurting it out, half‑teasing, half‑testing how far she could trust them:
"By the way... remember that collab track, Zoo? From SMTOWN?"
Heads turned. Haechan's eyes widened; even Junny paused mid‑sip.
"Yeah, what about it?" Taeyong asked, brow lifting.
Lexie's voice dropped into something softer, almost shy. "That track... it was mine. I submitted it anonymously a while back. Didn't think it'd even get picked, honestly. Just gave the company free rein with it."
For a heartbeat, the table went quiet. Then a low whistle from Johnny broke the hush. "You're kidding," he murmured, admiration warming his tone.
"Holy—" Haechan started, his words dissolving into surprised laughter. "No wonder your style felt familiar tonight!"
Taeyong's grin stretched wide, genuine pride flickering in his gaze. "That track was insane. Seriously."
Lexie felt her ears warm, the weight she'd carried around that secret lightening all at once. "Guess I wasn't ready to put my name on it back then," she confessed quietly, fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
Junny bumped her shoulder gently. "Well, it's out now. And it's dope. You should be proud."
The conversation picked back up — laughter mixing with a warmth Lexie hadn't realized she'd missed so badly. And somewhere in the swirl of teasing, music talk, and the soft thud of bass through the floor, she allowed herself one small, tentative hope:
Maybe this wasn't just a night out.
Maybe it really was the start of something.