She awoke to soft sunlight filtering through the blinds and the unmistakable scent of sizzling garlic and eggs. Not the burnt kind. The actual, mouthwatering kind.
Lexie blinked herself awake, sat up slowly, and took a second to process that she wasn't dreaming.
That was garlic.
That was breakfast.
And someone was definitely in her kitchen.
She padded out to the living room wearing an oversized SM hoodie — the only clean thing she could grab post-shower last night — and paused at the doorway.
There he was. Haechan. Barefoot, hair messily swept to one side, moving with practiced ease in her small kitchen.
A pan of golden scrambled eggs, toasted baguettes lined with garlic butter, and even a side of sautéed kimchi. The countertop was a little cluttered but in control. It was clear he knew what he was doing.
"Did you... break into a cooking show last night and forget to tell me?" she asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
He didn't even flinch. Just glanced over his shoulder and grinned.
"Good morning to you, too. I figured I'd pay rent with breakfast."
Lexie raised an eyebrow, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "I offered you a place to crash, not full control of my kitchen."
"And I accepted," he said cheerfully, plating the eggs. "With terms and conditions."
She leaned on the counter, watching as he added a sprinkle of scallions over everything.
"You're actually good at this," she mumbled, surprised.
He looked offended. "Actually? You do know who I am, right?"
Lexie laughed. "I just didn't think I'd wake up to masterchef Lee Donghyuck in my house."
"Better than waking up to a burnt microwave meal, right?"
"Touché."
As she took the plate he offered her and sat down, her expression softened.
"Still weird though," she said, almost to herself. "Waking up like this. Like I'm part of something now."
Haechan joined her at the table, sipping coffee like he had all the time in the world.
"You are," he said simply. "Whether you believe it yet or not."
Lexie took a bite, nodding slowly — the food really was amazing.
Then with a mock sigh, she muttered under her breath:
"If I wasn't a Czennie myself, I might've needed more convincing."
He caught the comment and smiled. "Guess it's a good thing you were one, then."
"And here I thought you just needed a ride and a free bed."
"Oh, I did," he said smugly. "But now that I'm here, I'm celebrating with you. This is the good part."
Lexie smirked. "Celebrating by stealing my food."
He reached over and took a piece of her toast with zero shame. "Sharing is a form of love, Lex."
* * *
She should've been nervous.
New ID card in hand, signed contract barely twenty-four hours old, dressed in a simple black blouse and jeans — Lexie told herself she had every right to be shaking.
But somehow, walking into SM's towering glass lobby with Haechan beside her made it feel... a little less terrifying.
He was casually sipping his iced Americano like it was any other Tuesday.
"Stop fidgeting," he muttered without looking.
"I'm not," she lied, adjusting the strap of her backpack for the third time.
"You're literally twisting your lanyard like it owes you money."
"I'm just—processing."
He smirked. "You'll be fine. You're their new pink blood, remember?"
Lexie shot him a look. "I still think you all forced me into this."
"No one forced you," he said innocently. "Just strongly encouraged. Passionately. Like the fate of the company depended on it."
She let out a huff, but the laugh bubbled out anyway.
At the front desk, a staff member perked up as soon as she spotted them.
"Lexie-ssi?" she asked. "Kyungmin-ssi will be down shortly."
Just then, a tall figure approached — sharp in both posture and style, with a clipboard under his arm and a Bluetooth earpiece clipped to his collar.
"Lexie?" he greeted, offering a hand. "I'm Kyungmin. We've been expecting you."
Before Lexie could respond, Haechan leaned in with a grin. "Be nice to her, hyung. She's got actual talent. None of that newbie treatment."
Kyungmin laughed. "Don't worry. We don't haze the ones who can out-produce half our seniors."
Lexie gave him a small, awkward bow. "I'm still getting used to all of this..."
"You'll be fine," Haechan said, nudging her lightly. "But if he offers you anything from that bottom drawer in his office, say no."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Kyungmin muttered, already gesturing toward the hallway. "Come on, Lexie. Let's get you oriented."
As Lexie followed Kyungmin, she glanced back just as Haechan stepped into the elevator. He flashed her a thumbs-up before the doors closed — mouthing, Text me if he makes you read boring PDFs.
Lexie held back a grin.
As they walked down a brightly lit hallway lined with sleek panels and framed album covers, Lexie struggled to keep pace with Kyungmin's brisk stride.
"So," he began without looking back, "I know Haechan probably told you you'd be thrown into chaos without warning."
Lexie gave a breathy laugh. "He might've said something like that."
"Well, he exaggerated." Kyungmin finally slowed and turned to her. "We don't entirely throw people into the fire."
Lexie tilted her head. "Only slightly into the flames?"
"Exactly," he smiled. "We call it character development."
They stopped in front of a frosted glass door marked Studio C-107. Kyungmin tapped his ID and the door slid open with a soft click.
Lexie stepped in—and froze.
It wasn't just a workspace. It was hers.
A clean, modern studio room with warm wood accents and acoustic paneling greeted her. A brand-new keyboard setup sat in the corner, a dual-monitor system already booted up. Soundproof walls. An ergonomic chair. A small shelf with coffee mugs and a tiny whiteboard labeled: LEXIE'S CORNER.
"I... don't understand." Lexie turned, eyes wide. "This is mine?"
Kyungmin nodded, pleased by the reaction. "We believe in investing in the people we trust. You're not just assisting or shadowing someone else's projects. You're one of our composers now."
Her mouth opened, but words didn't come.
"I know it's a lot," he continued, "but this is part of your contract. You'll be assigned to a few major upcoming projects, starting today. Which reminds me..."
He tapped something into his phone. "Your first task is a collaboration—more of a support role for now. Taeyong's solo album is in development. He specifically asked for you. You'll meet them after lunch."
Lexie blinked. "I—sorry, what?"
"You'll be assisting him with production notes and vocal comping. Johnny will be sitting in, too. He's been helping him conceptually."
Lexie blinked. "Like... Taeyong Taeyong?"
Kyungmin chuckled. "Yup. That Taeyong. And Johnny, too. Don't worry, he's not as intimidating as he looks. You'll do fine."
"Taeyong—? Johnny—?" she repeated under her breath, heart stuttering.
She had met them once — technically. That night Junny brought them over during that small gig in Hongdae. They had hung out for a while afterward, even shared drinks and easy laughs in the corner booth of that dim-lit bar. It was casual... fun... surreal.
But this—this was different.
This wasn't just vibing over music and spontaneous jam sessions. This was real, assigned, collaborative work. The kind where they'd see her as a peer — not a friend of a friend or some promising underground talent.
Never in a million thoughts did I imagine I'd be working with them like this, she mused, swallowing a breath. This feels like a dream — something so far from reality that even I would think it's impossible.
"Alright, this is yours now," Kyungmin said as he handed her a sleek ID card marked with her name and the SM Entertainment logo. "It opens your studio door and all the lounges. If you need access to other work areas, just give me a heads-up."
Lexie blinked down at the card, then back at the door of what was officially her first studio. "This is... mine?"
He grinned, clearly amused by her disbelief. "Yup. SM Studio C-107. You'll be in and out of here a lot, so might as well make it your second home."
She gave a slow nod, lips twitching in a hesitant smile. "Feels surreal."
Kyungmin chuckled. "Get used to it fast," he teased, then added, "Also, drop the 'sir' and formalities, please. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other often. Just Kyungmin's fine—colleagues and all."
Lexie smiled fully now. "Noted. Thanks, Kyungmin."
With a light wave, he left her in the studio.
Studio. Her studio.
The second the door closed, silence settled. Lexie stood there alone, in the dim-lit space. Her fingers curled tighter around the ID card in her hand.
Just hours ago, she was "Junny's friend." A freelancer, still half in disbelief she had signed a contract. Now, she had a room of her own. A studio. A small space with soundproof walls and state-of-the-art gear—and her name logged into the system.
She exhaled, long and slow, before walking toward the booth. She took time checking the equipment, tweaking a few things to her technical preferences—adjusting mic settings, swapping her own presets, reconnecting her preferred MIDI controller, and double-checking patch cables.
The layout was familiar—almost eerily so—but she could already tell it had been customized for flexibility. It was hers to shape. A blank canvas.
Lunch came and went uneventfully. She kept her door cracked open in case Kyungmin needed to check in, but nobody came. The quiet allowed her to focus. Or, at least it tried to—her mind still raced.
Then a knock. Followed by the door slowly swinging open.
Taeyong stood there in a soft oversized tee and cargo pants, smiling in that familiar way that still didn't feel real.
Right behind him was Johnny, holding a bouquet of yellow tulips in one hand and two coffees and a pastry bag balanced in the other.
"Welcome to SM, Producer Lexie," Taeyong said with a warm grin.
Her heart momentarily stopped.
"W-What—?"
Johnny grinned as he handed her the flowers first. "We figured it's your first day, right? Thought we'd start things on a sweet note."
Taeyong nodded. "And to officially welcome you to the team."
Lexie blinked between them, dazed, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or grab a mic to record how her brain short-circuited.
"You guys didn't have to—" she managed to say, voice thin with disbelief.
"But we wanted to," Johnny said easily, motioning her toward the coffee and pastry bag. "Americano and that cream cheese thing from that place Junny said you liked."
"That's so sweet of you two."
"We take first impressions seriously," Johnny deadpanned.
Lexie couldn't help it—she let out a quiet laugh as she placed the flowers on her desk.
And yet again, the surreal feeling returned. Only this time, it wasn't lonely. It was warm.
After a few more jokes and lighthearted chatter, the three of them settled into their places. Taeyong launched into his process, talking about textures, lyrical layering, and sonic direction. It was intense, but Lexie kept up — throwing in ideas, noting timestamps, and by the third demo, she'd already suggested two minor vocal adjustments Johnny agreed were fire.
"Okay, not gonna lie," Johnny muttered between tracks, nudging her elbow, "you're scarily good at this."
Lexie smiled faintly, cheeks warming.
She mumbled, "Just... instincts."
Taeyong didn't even look up from his screen as he added, "Then your instincts are sharp."
Lexie blinked at the compliment, then ducked her head, scribbling a quick note to avoid showing how much that meant. These weren't just any artists—these were people whose music shaped entire chapters of her life. Now here they were, treating her as a peer.
The session stretched well into the afternoon, filled with fluid exchanges and the occasional chaotic tangent when Johnny misheard lyrics or tried beatboxing over a transition Taeyong wanted solemn. Lexie learned quickly that Johnny had a habit of being both completely unserious and somehow musically spot-on. Taeyong, meanwhile, was quieter when he worked, laser-focused but thoughtful.
At one point, Taeyong leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're faster than I expected. Most people freeze when I throw arrangement changes mid-track."
Lexie gave a sheepish laugh. "I've frozen. Just very quietly."
Johnny snorted. "That tracks."
There was laughter, then a pause—one of those rare, still moments in creative rooms where no one felt the need to fill it with words.
Lexie glanced at the flowers resting on the corner of the desk. The coffee was half-drunk. The pastry bag was empty. And she felt... full.
Not in the sugar-and-caffeine way. But in the soul-deep, I'm-meant-to-be-here kind of way.
She didn't say anything. Just took the next set of vocal stems and started laying them into the timeline. Confident fingers. Focused ears.
Johnny leaned back, stretching with a loud yawn. "First day and you're already outdoing us."
Taeyong gave a tiny smile. "Let's not say that too loudly. Haechan will riot."
Lexie looked up at the mention of the name. "He doesn't know yet?"
"Oh, he knows you're working with us," Johnny grinned slyly. "He just doesn't know we brought flowers."
She shook her head, smiling wider than she meant to.