Lexie stirred to the soft wash of daylight bleeding through unfamiliar curtains. Her lashes fluttered open, and the first thing she noticed was how pristine the room looked—muted whites and warm beige tones, a minimalistic scent of linen and pine lingering faintly in the air. She blinked at the bedside table, noting a glass of water and her phone neatly set beside it, then slowly sat up.
Where...?
Her brows furrowed. She scanned the unfamiliar space—definitely not her apartment, not her parents' place either. The sheets were different, the silence was different.
Then she saw him.
Mark—his head resting on the side of the bed, body curled awkwardly on the floor, one arm slumped across the mattress, fingers loosely holding hers.
Lexie froze.
Panic bubbled in her throat.
His breathing was soft, lips slightly parted in a quiet, sleep-drenched way that would've been peaceful... had her mind not been spiraling. What happened? How did I get here? How long was he here? Did I talk in my sleep?
Heart pounding, she ever so slowly began slipping her hand from his. Every tug felt like a betrayal, but she couldn't help it—panic was louder than guilt right now. Once free, she gently swung her legs off the bed, tiptoeing out of the room like a criminal escaping the scene.
She emerged into the living room.
The moment she took it in—the familiar coat rack, the framed photo of Mark and Matthew as kids on the shelf, the subtle scent of his cologne lingering faintly in the air—everything clicked.
She was in their home. Mark's home.
Her suitcase sat neatly by the couch, untouched.
Her breath caught.
She didn't remember much—just the airport, Matthew picking her up, the hum of a car, her exhaustion pressing down like gravity... and then nothing. She must've knocked out in the car.
Her throat tightened. She clenched her sweater closer to her chest.
And in that blur of guilt and fear and the need to run before anything broke more than it already had, she did what she knew she shouldn't have:
She ran.
Back into the room, careful not to make a sound. She grabbed her phone and the sweater slung on the chair. Mark shifted a little in his sleep, but didn't stir. Lexie didn't dare breathe.
Within moments, she was outside—dragging her suitcase behind her, her steps faster than her thoughts. She hailed a cab, gave her apartment address, and let herself drown in the dull hum of city sounds as the car pulled away from the curb.
Inside the cab, she finally opened her phone. Hands trembling, she typed:
Matthew Lee💙👬
I woke up at your place.
Mark was there. I panicked. I didn't wake him.
I left. I'm sorry.
I know I shouldn't have run, not again.
I just... wasn't ready to face him like that.
Not with everything still so messy in my head.
I'll explain soon. Please don't be mad.
Then closed her eyes.
And exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding.
* * *
It was around 8:30 in the morning when Lexie left her apartment again, the sun already casting soft shadows on the pavement. Dressed simply in a cozy oatmeal-toned sweatshirt and jeans, her hair loosely tied back, Lexie looked calm enough—though her heart hadn't stopped racing since dawn.
She sat behind the wheel of her car, fingers anxiously drumming on the steering wheel as she stopped at a red light, the day's gravity setting in. It wasn't just the start of Omega Camp—SM's internal week-long haven for creativity, experimentation, and collaboration among producers, artists, and choreographers—it was also the first time she'd have to act like everything was fine.
After a deep breath, she pulled up in front of a familiar apartment building and quickly texted.
Junny Canadian brotha🍁🍂
outside :>
today's finally the day...
worried but excited af.
A moment later, Junny climbed in with his usual sleepy grin, tossing his bag in the backseat.
"Morning," he greeted. "Wow, look who's driving me today."
Lexie chuckled. "Special treatment. I figured today needs to start right."
As she drove, they slipped easily into their usual banter—talking about the camp schedule, industry gossip, and their shared anticipation for the collaborations ahead. Junny glanced at her between the teasing remarks, noting the subtle tension in her jaw and the way she gripped the steering wheel tighter at times.
"You got your demos ready?" he asked, trying to keep things light.
Lexie nodded. "All intact. I rechecked everything the other night. Just hoping they land the way I imagined."
"They will," he said with certainty. "They always do when it's you."
But then came the silence—the kind that hung with weight.
"...Hey," he finally said, voice quieter. "You left in such a rush last week. Didn't even tell me. And not to pry, but you... you look tired, Lex. Like, really tired. Did you even eat properly? You've definitely lost some weight."
Lexie stayed silent, lips pressed into a straight line. Her knuckles whitened around the wheel.
"I'm sorry if I'm crossing a line," Junny added, more gently. "I just—was it something serious? The emergency?"
Still no words. Just the sound of the car's quiet hum and city traffic.
Then, without a word, Lexie reached over with one hand, unlocked her phone, and single-handedly flipped it to the home screen, setting it in the cupholder between them.
Junny took one glance and froze.
Her wallpaper wasn't a design or some cryptic motivational quote. It was a photo. A simple one. Lexie and a little boy. His arms were tightly wrapped around her waist. She was kneeling, smiling through obvious exhaustion.
Junny leaned back slowly in his seat, suddenly quiet.
"Oh," he breathed.
Lexie nodded, her voice low. "His name's Ethan."
"Lex..." Junny whispered, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "You don't have to explain. I get it now."
She just gave a tight, appreciative smile—her voice soft as she finally replied, "He's okay now. But I almost didn't make it in time."
Junny leaned back in his seat slowly, digesting everything. He reached across to squeeze her shoulder. "But you did, Lex. You made it back. That's what matters."
She just nodded again, focusing on the road ahead. "I'm just not sure if I'm ready to face everything else yet."
Junny gave her a half-smile. "You don't have to be. But you'll get there."
Lexie took a breath, eyes still on the road, and then forced a crooked smile.
"Enough with this," she said, her voice a little steadier now. "Let's cheer up. We're not about to cry our way into Omega Camp."
Junny chuckled softly, glancing over at her. "You sure? I'm halfway there, man."
She let out a light laugh, finally breaking the heavy air. "No tears until after coffee. Seriously, let's go get one when we arrive—I totally look like a walking dead."
Junny grinned. "You said it, not me."
Lexie rolled her eyes. "Please. One more all-nighter and I'm auditioning for Kingdom of the Zombies."
"Starring: caffeine-deprived Lexie and her emotionally overwhelmed Canadian sidekick."
She snorted. "Directed by SM. Distributed by insomnia."
They both laughed this time, the tension between them finally loosening as the camp compound came into view ahead—calm, tucked between trees, waiting to welcome them back into something that, for a little while, might feel like home.
They laughed all the way through the underground parking lot, the morning light softening the edge of their exhaustion. Lexie parked near the back entrance of the SM building—where a few familiar cars were already tucked into place.
As they stepped out, Lexie stretched her arms over her head and groaned. "I think my spine turned to rice paper."
Junny nudged her with his shoulder. "You're not allowed to collapse until the final day."
She snorted. "Noted."
Inside, the building buzzed with controlled excitement. Omega Camp had unofficially begun—staff moving briskly, engineers prepping sound systems, and producers and artists trickling in with coffee cups and USBs. A small banner at the hallway corner read:
OMEGAVERSE 2022: THE NEXT WAVE
Lexie and Junny checked in at the security desk and followed the signs toward the main floor, a wide studio space converted into a creative war room. The place smelled faintly of warm wood, soundproof foam, and caramel lattes.
"Whoa," Junny murmured as the doors slid open.
The space was open-plan: scattered tables, MIDI pads, keyboards, lyric notebooks, mixing gear, and instruments everywhere. Some tables already had little clusters forming—LDN Noise casually bobbing to a beat with Adrian McKinnon, Dem Jointz testing loops on headphones, NIve talking softly with one of the A&R reps. Lexie spotted Kun and Ten leaning over a vocal booth monitor, laughing about something with Jaehyun who popped in just to say hi.
In a nearby corner, a small whiteboard had a scribbled breakdown:
VOCAL LAYERING – Room B
LOOP FEEDBACK – Main
LYRIC CIRCLE – Lounge
1:1 DEMO CONSULTS – Room A (Kenzie, Ejae)
Walk-ins welcome
Junny pointed at it. "Here's the feedback corner—people drop demo loops; others play, remix, react. Collaborative chaos."
Lexie couldn't help but smile, the weight in her chest easing a little. "Let's cause some chaos then."
They found a clear spot and placed their bags down. Lexie pulled out her hard drive, placing it carefully next to a neatly labeled tag: LEXIE – DEMO BATCH 07: VOCAL / ACOUSTIC / ALT-BOP.
A familiar voice called from across the room.
"Junny! Lexie-yah!"
They turned to see Eunjae eonni striding over, her smile warm and eyes already scanning them for signs of fatigue. "You two look like you haven't slept in two months."
"We haven't," Junny joked, holding up his coffee as proof of survival.
Ejae gave Lexie a quick hug. "I heard you flew back just in time for this. You okay?"
Lexie smiled, nodding. "Better now."
"Good," Ejae said softly, with a knowing look. "You know how it is here. This camp's magic, but it can wear you down too."
"Let's hope I'm still standing by day three," Lexie replied, voice light.
"Come sit when you can. I'm doing 1:1 consults with Kenzie-sunbaenim today," Ejae said, pointing to a studio down the hall. "You'll want her to hear your 'Vocal Loop #3.' I still can't get that one out of my head."
Junny gave Lexie a look. "You've been holding out on me."
Lexie shrugged with a grin. "You were too busy sleeping."
They split up soon after, Junny drawn into a synth-heavy conversation with Dem Jointz and NIve, while Lexie wandered toward the lyric lounge. A soft hum of vocals drifted through—young writers humming toplines into their phones, others tapping lyrics into iPads or scribbling on scrap paper.
Kenzie sunbaenim sat near the back corner, elegantly casual in oversized neutral layers, a clipboard in one hand, earbuds in. She looked up just as Lexie entered.
"Ah, Lexie," she said with a calm smile, beckoning her over. "Eunjae played me your acoustic loop yesterday. The one with the layered falsettos."
Lexie sat down, trying not to fidget. "I was nervous about that one."
Kenzie nodded. "Good. Nervous usually means you're on to something real."
They listened together, Kenzie making soft notes while Lexie watched her reaction closely. She didn't speak until the final harmonic run played out.
Then: "It's clean. Brave, even. You left space for the listener. That's rare these days."
Lexie blinked. "Thank you."
Kenzie looked at her. "But it also sounds like you've been through something. That raw edge in the second verse—it's not just production. It's personal."
Lexie met her gaze and gave a small, honest nod.
Kenzie didn't press further. She handed Lexie the clipboard. "Add this one to the Solo or NCT U pool. I can already imagine two different versions."
Lexie scribbled her initials, heart skipping a beat. That small approval felt like sunlight after rain.
Throughout the day, things unfolded in a quiet rhythm. Lexie joined a layering session in Room B, where she helped Ten and a new female trainee structure harmonies for a dreamy chorus. Lunch was light—salads and sandwiches and overcaffeinated jokes shared at a crowded table with Junny, Ejae, Ryan Jhun, and even Taeil who dropped in with vocal warm-ups that made the room laugh.
The afternoon slid into golden hour. Junny demoed a lo-fi melody loop that Ejae thought would be perfect for a female soloist. Lexie quietly built a percussion frame for a track Kenzie suggested for WayV. And as the sun filtered in through the studio blinds, someone played Lexie's guitar-and-voice demo softly in the main room.
People paused to listen.
It wasn't grand. Just her voice. A little worn. A little raw. Like someone who'd been holding something in for too long—and finally let it out.
She didn't watch their faces. She just stepped out into the hallway, phone in hand, and pulled up the same wallpaper again.
Her little boy's smile—wide and full of life.
Junny appeared beside her a minute later, handing her a coffee.
"I told you," he said gently. "They'd hear you."
Lexie looked at him and smiled, truly, for the first time that day.