From the moment Jiyoon could walk, she was already running.
Born into a family full of athletes that thrived on discipline, her childhood was less about fairytales and playgrounds and more about schedules, training, and the relentless pursuit of excellence.
Her parents, both former athletes, raised her with a clear expectation, greatness was not an option; it was a requirement.
Badminton became her entire world before she even had the chance to question if she wanted it to be. At six, she held a racket for the first time.
At eight, she was training daily. By ten, she had entered her first national competition, and by fifteen, she was already standing on podiums, medals hanging from her neck as cameras flashed in her face.
The sport demanded everything from her, time, energy, even her childhood.
While her classmates gossiped about crushes and spent weekends at malls, Jiyoon was on the court, drilling the same movements until her body moved on instinct.
It wasn’t like she hated it, Jiyoon loved badminton, and she wouldn’t see her life without it.
But there were days she resented it, the endless cycle of training, the pressure of expectations. But there were also days when she felt weightless, like the court was the only place in the world where she truly belonged.
She wasn’t just good at badminton, she was exceptional.
She was fast, precise, and relentless. Her ability to read her opponent’s next move before they even made it gave her an edge. The media picked up on her rise quickly, branding her as one of the country’s next big sports icons.
She was everywhere. She was on national newspapers, Korea’s biggest magazines, her name being on multiple headlines.
But for all the praise and recognition, Jiyoon sometimes wondered what existed beyond the game.
She didn’t have the luxury of exploring hobbies the way others did. Every interest had to fit into the narrow space left by her rigid training schedule.
Music, however, had always been a quiet companion. Late at night, when exhaustion clung to her bones, she’d put in her earbuds and let herself be carried away by whatever song played next.
That was how she first stumbled upon New Topia.
At first, they were just another girl group in a sea of many. But then she saw their performance.
The sharp synchronization, the energy, the sheer precision of their movements, it was like watching another form of athleticism, one just as demanding as hers.
And then there was Jungeun.
Jiyoon didn’t know what it was about her, but something made her stop and watch. Maybe it was the way she moved, confident and fluid, as if every beat of the song was second nature to her.
Maybe it was the sharpness in her gaze, the way she commanded attention without even trying. Or maybe it was how, for the first time in a long while, Jiyoon saw something familiar in someone else.
She wouldn’t call herself a fan. Not yet, at least. But she was intrigued.
Still, she didn’t have the time to dwell on it. Her life was already set on a path, one she had no choice but to follow.
With international tournaments on the horizon, media pressure rising, and expectations piling on top of her shoulders, she had no space for distractions.
Even if, in the back of her mind, she found herself wondering about the girl who danced like she was born to be on stage.
—
Jungeun never really inteded to be a star.
She didn’t grow up dreaming of flashing cameras or stadiums filled with fans chanting her name. As a child, she wasn’t the type to sing into a hairbrush or pretend she was on stage.
Music was just always around her, on the radio, playing in convenience stores, blasting through her older sister’s speakers, but it was never something she imagined herself doing.
Until, one evening, when she was twelve years old, and she saw them.
A girl group was performing on TV. Jungeun wasn’t even paying attention at first, she had just been passing by the living room when the music stopped her in her tracks. The moment she turned to the screen, she couldn’t look away.
They were sleek and powerful, moving in perfect sync as if they were born to dance together. The energy in their voices, the fire in their performance.
For the first time in her life, Jungeun felt something. She was inspired by the way they moved, by the way people were dancing along with them.
She wanted to make people feel that way about her too.
She didn’t tell anyone at first. It felt silly, like a dream too far out of reach. But the thought wouldn’t go away.
So she started small. Quietly mimicking choreographies in her room, humming songs under her breath when no one was listening.
And when she finally gathered the courage to audition for a local agency, she told herself it was just to see where she stood. She didn’t expect to pass.
But she did.
And that was how it all began.
The next few years were brutal. The moment she became a trainee, her life was no longer her own. Days started before the sun rose and ended long after midnight.
Dance, vocal lessons, stage presence training, every hour was accounted for. There were no sick days, no breaks, no room for weakness. If she wanted this, she had to prove she deserved it.
Many didn’t make it. Jungeun saw trainees disappear overnight, their dreams ending as quickly as they started.
But she refused to be one of them. She trained harder, pushed herself further, and when the company finally announced they were forming a new girl group, she fought for her place in it.
That was how New Topia was born.
The lineup was set with Koko, Saebi, Jeemin, Sarang, Mai, and Jungeun.
Six girls from different backgrounds, all with one thing in common, they had survived. They had trained together for years, sacrificed everything, and now, they were finally getting their shot.
Their debut wasn’t easy. The industry was ruthless, and competition was fierce.
They trained until their bodies ached, performed until their voices gave out, and slowly, people started to notice. Their performances were sharp, their energy was electric, and one by one, they built their fanbase from the ground up.
And then came the moment that changed everything.
Their first comeback exploded the internet overnight. Suddenly, they weren’t just another rookie group struggling for attention.
They were everywhere. Music charts, variety shows, international headlines. Jungeun barely had time to breathe before their schedule tripled. One day, they were performing in tiny venues, and the next, they were selling out arenas.
They were unstoppable.
Through it all, Jungeun became known as one of their strongest performers. Her stage presence, her sharp dancing, the way she made every move look effortless automatically attracted the media.
Not only was she a performer, but she had gotten multiple gigs for modeling from various brands.
Despite all of this, there was one thing Jungeun never quite connected with, sports.
It wasn’t that she disliked them. She just never cared enough to pay attention.
Her entire life had been consumed by music and there was never really a reason to think about anything else.
She knew the basics of some sports, sure, but if you asked her to name a famous athlete? She’d draw a blank.
So when their manager walked into the practice room one evening with an announcement, she barely looked up from her stretching.
“Your group will be performing at the grand opening of the Annual World Badminton Championships.”
Jungeun blinked. “The who?”
“The world championships,” Koko repeated, scrolling through her phone. “Badminton. It’s a huge deal.”
Jungeun tilted her head. “Badminton? Like.. the thing with the rackets?”
Saebi snorted. “Wow. You’re so cultured.”
Their manager shot them both a look before turning back to the group. “This is a major event. The performance will be seen by millions. It’s an opportunity to expand your reach globally.”
Jungeun didn’t doubt that. If there was one thing she understood, it was the power of exposure.
But as she listened to their manager go over the details, she couldn’t help but feel excited to look at Korea’s more sporty side although she didn’t know a single thing about professional badminton.
Soon though, that would change.
—
The venue was massive, larger than any stadium Jungeun had ever stepped into.
Even without the thousands of people that would soon fill the stands, the sheer scale of it made her feel small. Rows upon rows of empty seats stretched toward the ceiling, their silence an eerie contrast to the chaos unfolding below.
The stage was still being set up, crew members moving frantically, checking the lighting, adjusting the sound.
Somewhere to the side, New Topia’s manager was speaking with the event coordinators, confirming last minute details.
Jungeun and her members had been given a short break before their stage run through, and while some of them were going over choreography in front of the mirrors, Jungeun found herself distracted.
Not by the stage. Not by the cameras being set up around the arena.
But by the game happening across the court.
It was just a practice match, meant to test the conditions before the real competition.
But even so, the players moved with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.
‘I guess this is how sports enthusiasts feel.’ Jungeun thought.
Rackets swung in sharp, precise motions, the sound of the shuttlecock slicing through the air echoing in the vast space.
The pace was relentless, footwork so swift it almost blurred, reactions so quick that Jungeun barely had time to follow.
At the center though, she saw her.
A girl dressed in sleek athletic gear, moving with an effortless grace that Jungeun had never seen before.
She was fast, not just in the way she ran across the court, but in the way she adapted, her body shifting instantly to meet each play. Every movement was smooth, every shot precise.
“Who’s that?” Jungeun found herself asking, eyes still locked on the game.
“Hm?” Jeemin glanced up from her water bottle. “Who?”
Jungeun gestured toward the court. “The one in black. The one playing right now.”
Jeemin followed her gaze, then let out a short laugh. “Oh. That’s Jiyoon.”
The name didn’t ring a bell. Jungeun turned toward her, waiting for more.
“She’s one of the top rising players in the sport right now,” Jeemin continued, stretching her arms.
“Youngest champion in one of last year’s major tournaments. People say she’s gonna be a legend if she keeps going at this rate.”
Jungeun raised a brow. “That good, huh?”
“See for yourself.”
Jungeun turned back to the court, watching as Jiyoon lunged forward, barely skimming the ground as she returned a powerful shot with a backhand flick.
Her opponent barely managed to react in time. Jungeun didn’t know all the technical terms, didn’t understand all the rules, but she felt the impact of the moment.
It was rare to see someone move with such control, such ease. Jungeun had spent years perfecting her own movements on stage, but the way Jiyoon played? It was something else entirely.
She found herself staring longer than she meant to. Long enough that she didn’t even realize it.
Long enough that when Jiyoon finally turned in her direction, their eyes met.
And for a split second Jungeun froze.
‘Fuck, she probably thinks im a creep.’ Jungeun mentally facepalmed
Jiyoon’s gaze was just a glance, though for a moment she saw confusion in the girls face. It was the briefest of moments, barely even a second.
But Jungeun still felt her pulse stutter
Quickly, she tore her gaze away, pretending she hadn’t been caught. She focused on the stage instead, straightening her posture, stretching as if she had just been warming up for rehearsal.
As if she hadn’t just spent the past few minutes watching Jiyoon play like she was hypnotized.
Jungeun didn’t dare look in that direction anymore. Not even when she could still feel the weight of Jiyoon’s gaze lingering for just a second longer before the game continued.
—
Jiyoon had played in many stadiums before, but this one felt different. The venue was massive.
It was an arena built to hold thousands of spectators, it was nearly empty, but she felt hella intimidated.
The championship hadn’t begun yet. The seats were vacant, the only sounds coming from the faint murmur of staff, the sharp squeak of sneakers against polished floors, and the rhythmic thwack of shuttlecocks being struck across the court.
She wasn’t nervous, she rarely was before a game, but there was a strange energy in the air today.
Maybe it was because the grand opening was happening soon. Maybe it was because the entire event felt bigger than any she’d been in before.
Or maybe it was because someone was watching her.
Jiyoon didn’t notice at first, she was too busy trying to perfect her game. With this championship having bigger benefits than the previous one, she had to be on her A game.
She was too caught up in the game, in the instinctive back and forth of rallying, her body reacting on autopilot as she returned each shot with precision.
The movements were like second nature to her, something she had spent years perfecting. But amidst of it all, she couldn’t shrug off the feeling of being watched by someone.
It wasn’t uncommon. Spectators always watched, whether they were coaches, reporters, or rivals scouting for weaknesses, but this one actually itched her to turn around and look.
It wasn’t until she won the rally, stepping back to reset, that she finally let herself glance toward the source of the gaze.
And that’s when she caught a glimpse of her.
A girl standing near the stage setup, dressed casually yet effortlessly put together. Her brownish hair was tied back loosely, and even from this distance, Jiyoon felt her breath caught in her throat.
Shes so fucking gorgeous.
For a brief second, Jiyoon’s eyes flickered with curiosity. She doesn’t look like a reporter nor does she look like an athlete.
Then who—
But before she could dwell on it further, she was called back to resume their match.
Jiyoon shook the thought away, refocusing on the match, but the presence of that girl lingered at the edge of her mind.
Even as she played, even as she moved, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched.
Minutes passed and another round has yet ended.
And once again, as she wiped sweat from her brow, her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the stage area.
She looked at the brownish haired girl, then the rest who were dancing.
Wait.
She knew those faces.
She had seen them before, not here, not in stadiums, but on screens, in music videos, on the cover of playlists she’d listened to late at night when she couldn’t sleep.
New Topia.
‘So the girl staring at me was Choi Jungeun?’
Jiyoon almost collapsed.
The main dancer. The one with the sharp, fluid moves, the effortless stage presence. The one whose voice had woven itself into Jiyoon’s playlists without her even realizing, was watching her?
Jiyoon had never considered herself the type to obsess over celebrities. She had spent too much of her life training, too much time dedicating herself to her sport.
But she wasn’t clueless, she had music she liked, and New Topia had been on repeat more times than she cared to admit.
Yet, somehow, she hadn’t recognized Jungeun immediately.
Maybe it was because she was seeing her out of context. Jungeun belonged on a stage, surrounded by lights and music, not standing casually on the sidelines, wearing a hoodie, watching a badminton match like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
‘But wait? What is the group doing here?’
Jiyoon pulled her towel from around her neck, dabbing at the sweat clinging to her skin as she made her way toward the sidelines.
The buzz of activity around the arena had become louder, staff members adjusting cameras, sound engineers checking equipment, the faint sound of New Topia’s rehearsals echoing from the stage.
She wasn’t planning on asking.
She really wasn’t. But she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit curious. Yeah a tiny bit.
Before she could stop herself, the words already left her mouth.
“What’s New Topia doing here?”
Her manager, Sujung, glanced at her, not looking particularly surprised by the question. “They’re performing for the grand opening. Didn’t you read the event schedule?”
Jiyoon exhaled. Right. She had skimmed the schedule but mostly focused on the match details, ignoring the entertainment section.
“They’re doing a whole set?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.
“A few songs, yeah. It’s a big event. You know they like to mix sports with pop culture to pull in a bigger audience.”
Jiyoon hummed in response, shifting her gaze back toward the stage. Jungeun was in the middle of a formation change, her movements smooth, effortless. Jiyoon was really fascinated with her muscle control.
She caught herself staring again and quickly turned away.
Her manager side-eyed her.
“Don’t tell me you’re a fan,” Sujung, teased.
Jiyoon scoffed, rolling her shoulders. “I wouldn’t say fan…”
Sujung raised an eyebrow.
Jiyoon clicked her tongue, not finishing the sentence.
She didn’t know what she was trying to say anyway.
But as Jungeun continued rehearsing in the distance, the memory of their brief eye contact lingered in Jiyoon’s mind a little longer than she cared to admit.
—
The pre-match buzz filled the arena, voices overlapping as staff members rushed to finalize last minute details.
The scent of fresh wax on the wooden court mixed with the sharp aroma of brewing coffee from the concession area. Jiyoon had just finished warming up when Sujung, clapped a hand on her shoulder.
“Jiyoon, do me a favor,” Sujung said.
Jiyoon barely looked up, still adjusting the tension on her racket strings. “What is it?”
Sujung handed her a small slip of paper with a long list scribbled on it. “Coffee run. For New Topia’s staff and members. Just a little thank you for them performing.”
Jiyoon blinked at the list. “This is, like, ten cups.”
“And you’ve got two hands,” Sujung replied. “You’ll manage.”
Jiyoon sighed but didn’t argue. It wasn’t a big deal, really just an unexpected errand.
On the bright side, she gets to interact with New Topia, and it wasn’t like she was about to complain about personally handing coffee to some of the most famous idols in the country.
She made her way to the concession stand, waited for the drinks, and then carefully balanced the trays as she walked toward New Topia’s waiting area.
It was tucked away near the back of the venue, where their team had set up a lounge space for them to rest before the performance.
As she approached, she caught a glimpse of Jungeun, along with her group members Koko, Saebi, Jeemin, Sarang, and Mai.
They were casually chatting, stretching their legs, and sipping on water bottles, looking relaxed despite their upcoming stage.
Jiyoon squared her shoulders and stepped forward. “Uh, hi.”
Six pairs of eyes turned toward her.
She swallowed. Okay. No big deal. Just some famous idols. Normal people. Normal interaction.
“I, uh, brought coffee,” she said, holding up the trays. “As a thank you for performing today.”
Koko was the first to react, grinning as she stood up. “Nice! Coffee from the one and only badminton player! Thanks!”
The others followed suit, murmuring their appreciation as they took their drinks. Jiyoon was about to turn and leave when Jungeun suddenly spoke up.
“Wait.”
Jiyoon froze.
Jungeun was looking right at her, head tilted slightly. “You’re Jiyoon, right?”
Jiyoon blinked, caught off guard. “Uh.. yeah?”
Jungeun nodded as if confirming something to herself. Then, without hesitation, she held out a shuttlecock and a marker. “Sign this for me?”
Jiyoon stared.
“…What?”
Jungeun smiled. “Sign it.”
Jiyoon glanced around as if expecting someone to explain what was happening, but the other New Topia members just watched with amused expressions.
“You.. want me to sign this?” Jiyoon asked slowly, pointing at the shuttlecock.
Jungeun nodded. “Yeah. You’re a top ranked player. It’d be cool to have.”
Jiyoon blinked again, feeling her brain short circuit. She had expected polite thank yous, maybe a nod of acknowledgment, but not this.
“I—uh—yeah, sure okay,” she muttered, taking the marker and quickly scribbling her name on the shuttlecock.
When she handed it back, Jungeun grinned, twirling it between her fingers. “Nice.”
Jiyoon, still trying to process what just happened, blurted out, “You’re the one who’s famous, though.”
Jungeun shrugged. “Maybe. But I think it’s cool to meet someone who’s actually good at something I can’t do.”
Jiyoon let out a soft laugh. “You can’t play badminton?”
“I mean, I know what it is,” Jungeun said. “Just never tried it seriously.”
Jiyoon hummed, shifting her weight slightly. “You should. It’s fun.”
Jungeun smirked. “Are you offering to teach me?”
Jiyoon was not expecting that.
“Uh—I mean, if you want to?” she said, mentally kicking herself for how unsure she sounded.
Before Jungeun could respond, Koko cut in with a teasing grin. “Jungeun, stop flirting and let her go back to preparing for her match.”
Jungeun rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.
Jiyoon coughed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “Right. I should, uh, go.”
Before she turned to leave, Jungeun tapped the signed shuttlecock against her palm and said, “Hey, for the record… I’ve seen you play before. You’re good at what you do by the way.”
Jiyoon stiffened. “Huh?”
Jungeun tilted her head. “During practice the other day. You were playing. I was watching.”
Jiyoon felt her breath hitch slightly. So she really was staring that time.
Jungeun’s expression shifted slightly, something curious behind her eyes. “I didn’t recognize you then. But now that we’ve talked, I think I want to watch you more.”
Jiyoon, suddenly very aware of her own heartbeat, gave a half nod and quickly turned on her heel. “Uh, right. Enjoy your coffee.”
She walked off faster than she meant to, her pulse still unsteady.
She wasn’t sure if Jungeun was just being friendly or if there was something else there.
But one things for sure, this is only the start.
—
The stadium buzzed with energy, the cheers still ringing in Jiyoon’s ears as she stepped off the court.
Sweat trickled down her temple as she wiped her face with the towel draped over her shoulders.
The realization was finally settling in, making her heartbeat slow from adrenaline to something steadier, something real.
She had won.
The match had been intense, pushing her to her limits, but in the end, she had secured the victory.
As she caught her breath, a staff member approached, motioning toward the interview area. “Jiyoon, quick post-match interview. The host is waiting.”
Jiyoon nodded, exhaling as she straightened her posture. This was part of the job. Winning wasn’t just about playing well, it was about the aftermath, the media, the questions.
She stepped forward, walking toward the familiar stage where bright lights and cameras awaited.
The host greeted her with an enthusiastic smile. “Jiyoon! That was an incredible performance. You really gave it your all out there.”
Jiyoon returned the smile, albeit a smaller one. “Thank you.”
“We have to talk about that last rally. That smash, insane. What was going through your mind in that moment?”
Jiyoon inhaled, adjusting the grip on her towel. “Honestly? I wasn’t thinking. It was just instinct. I saw an opening, and I took it.”
“That’s what makes you such a great player!” The host beamed. “You’ve been making waves in the badminton scene, climbing the ranks at an impressive pace. A lot of people are wondering, what’s next for Jiyoon?”
Jiyoon hesitated slightly, her gaze flickering to the audience, where she could still see lingering fans, some holding banners with her name.
“I think, for now, I just want to keep improving,” she said honestly. “There’s always something to work on, and I don’t want to slow down. I want to play against tougher opponents, push myself further,”
“But for you guys who want a spoiler, I will be playing for the 2025 Grand Prix tournament, so stay tuned.” Jiyoon said and winked at the camera, audience roaring with excitement.
The host nodded approvingly. “Well I guess we’re all waiting now. We all looking forward to seeing that next win for you, Jiyoon. Congratulations again on your win!”
The interview wrapped up, and as soon as she stepped off the stage, Sujung was already there, handing her a bottle of water.
“Nice work,” she said.
Jiyoon took a long sip, nodding. “Thanks.”
Sujung checked their watch. “We’ll be heading out soon, but if you want to say hi to anyone before we go, go ahead.”
Jiyoon hummed absentmindedly, already scanning the area. Her mind was still buzzing from the match, but a part of her was distracted by something else. Or rather, someone else.
And then, she spotted her.
Jungeun.
She was standing near the edge of the stage, where New Topia’s staff and members were wrapping up. She looked like she was about to leave.
Jiyoon didn’t think twice and moved toward Jungeun.
Jungeun looked up as Jiyoon approached, her eyes sharp but she smiled as she saw her. She raised an eyebrow. “Hey, champ. Congrats on the win.”
Jiyoon let out a small breath of amusement. “You watched?”
Jungeun chuckled. “You did sign my shuttlecock. Figured I should see if you lived up to the hype.”
Jiyoon rolled her eyes, but the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her indifference. She hesitated for a second before reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out her phone.
“Here.” She held it out. “Put your number in.”
Jungeun blinked. “What?”
Jiyoon shifted on her feet, trying to keep her voice steady. “You asked if I’d teach you badminton, right? So, if you’re actually interested…”
Jungeun stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable, before a slow grin spread across her lips. “You’re really offering to teach me?”
Jiyoon shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “If you don’t think you can handle it, you don’t have to.”
Jungeun let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, you so just challenged me.”
Jiyoon just smiled. “Maybe.”
Jungeun took the phone from her hands, her fingers brushing lightly against Jiyoon’s, and typed something in. When she handed it back, Jiyoon glanced at the screen.
Jungeun 🐆 (your future best student)
Jiyoon shook her head, chuckling. “Confident, huh?”
Jungeun tilted her head. “You’re not regretting giving me your number already, are you?”
Jiyoon locked her phone, slipping it back into her pocket. She met Jungeun’s gaze, her own smile lingering. “Not yet.”
Jungeun grinned, and for a brief second, something passed between.
“Well, this is my cue. Let me know when you’re free future student.” Jiyoon patted her head and turned walking away before her pulse gave her away.
—
If anyone found out about this, both of their careers could take a hit.
That was the first thought in Jiyoon’s mind as she slipped out of her car and pulled up the hood of her jacket, scanning the area.
The court was empty, the only sounds being the distant hum of the city and the faint rustling of trees in the cool night breeze.
The second thought?
This is kind of insane.
Meeting up past midnight in a secluded sports facility, all because of a random conversation-turned-badminton-lesson plan?
Yeah, this was not in her usual routine.
But then again, neither was Jungeun.
It had been a few weeks since they exchanged numbers, and since then, Jungeun had somehow integrated herself into Jiyoon’s daily life.
They texted constantly. At first, it was casual. Just quick comments about their day, an occasional meme, and the occasional “when are you actually going to teach me?” from Jungeun.
Then it became something more. Late night conversations.
Sending voice notes became regular when she was too tired to text. Then Jiyoon rambling about an upcoming match and Jungeun listening, really listening. It was really comforting.
So when they finally managed to align their schedules, Jungeun had immediately proposed a late night meetup. Less risk of paparazzi, fewer chances of getting recognized. Just them.
And Jiyoon had agreed.
Now here she was, gripping her racket and wondering how the hell she ended up here.
The sound of sneakers against pavement made her turn.
Jungeun was walking toward her, dressed in an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Jungeun teased as she stopped in front of Jiyoon.
Jiyoon raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d bail?”
Jungeun shrugged. “Maybe. Thought you’d text last minute saying, ‘Sorry, superstar schedule, can’t make it.’”
Jiyoon scoffed. “That’s your excuse, not mine.”
Jungeun laughed at that, setting her bag down. “Alright, Coach Jiyoon. Teach me how to be a pro.”
Jiyoon rolled her eyes. “Let’s start with not embarrassing yourself first.”
Jungeun gasped dramatically. “Rude! I have some experience.”
Jiyoon tossed her a racket. “We’ll see.”
They started with the basics. Jiyoon taught Jungeun how to hold the racket properly, how to position her feet, and how to move with control rather than wild swings.
Jungeun, to her credit, was a fast learner, though she had a bad habit of getting impatient.
After the first few drills, Jungeun huffed, stretching her arms above her head. “This is harder than it looks.”
Jiyoon smirked. “I thought you said you had some experience.”
“I do! Just not this level.” Jungeun glanced at Jiyoon’s stance and mimicked it. “How do you make it look so easy?”
“Years of practice.” Jiyoon positioned herself behind Jungeun, adjusting her arm slightly. “Here, your wrist is too stiff. Relax a little.”
Jungeun stilled at the close proximity.
Jiyoon only realized after a second how close she was. She could see the faintest hint of Jungeun’s perfume, something subtly sweet but fresh.
Jungeun turned her head slightly, and for a moment, they were barely a breath apart.
Jiyoon cleared her throat, stepping back quickly. “Try again.”
Jungeun didn’t comment on it, but the ghost of a smirk played on her lips as she returned her focus to the racket.
They continued practicing, and eventually, they started playing an actual game. It wasn’t competitive, more playful than anything. Jungeun got better with each rally, and Jiyoon found herself genuinely enjoying this.
It wasn’t about training or pressure.
It was just them, under the night sky, playing a game like it was the most natural thing in the world.
At one point, Jungeun managed to hit a particularly tricky shot, sending the shuttlecock flying over Jiyoon’s reach.
“Hah!” Jungeun cheered, holding her racket up victoriously. “I got you!”
Jiyoon stared at the shuttlecock on the ground, then at Jungeun, who was grinning like she just won a championship.
“You got one point.”
“One point against you,” Jungeun emphasized.
Jiyoon shook her head, laughing. “Fine. You win this round.”
Jungeun smirked. “I’d like my trophy now.”
Jiyoon rolled her eyes. “No trophy, but I’ll give you a title, Not Totally Hopeless.”
Jungeun gasped. “How dare you.”
Jiyoon chuckled and sat down on the bench nearby, grabbing her water bottle. Jungeun plopped down next to her, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jungeun said between sips of water. “This was actually really fun.”
Jiyoon nudged her shoulder. “Told you.”
Jungeun was still catching her breath, she was leaning back against the bench, when Jiyoon reached into her bag and casually pulled out a small package.
“Here,” Jiyoon said, tossing it into Jungeun’s lap.
Jungeun blinked, then looked down. A familiar brand of jelly sat in her hands, her absolute favorite. She tore her gaze from the packaging to Jiyoon, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“How did you know?” Jungeun asked, holding up the jelly.
Jiyoon took a sip from her water bottle, looking away nonchalantly. “Lucky guess.”
Jungeun raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Jiyoon nodded, keeping her expression neutral.
Jungeun squinted at her, as if trying to see past her facade. “Because it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned it in a random interview years ago, right?”
Jiyoon shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. “Maybe you just have really obvious taste.”
Jungeun wasn’t buying it. “Mhm. You totally searched it up, didn’t you?”
Jiyoon scoffed. “Why would I do that?”
Jungeun studied her for another moment before a teasing grin spread across her face. “You totally did.”
Jiyoon groaned. “Are you eating the jelly or interrogating me?”
Jungeun laughed, finally tearing the package open. She popped a piece into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, you’re kind of cute when you pretend you don’t care.”
Jiyoon nearly choked on her water. “I do care, just not about your weird conspiracy theories.”
Jungeun hummed, unconvinced. “Mmm, sure.”
Jiyoon shook her head, leaning back against the bench. Jungeun kept munching on the jelly, a satisfied smile on her lips.
Maybe Jiyoon had looked it up.
Maybe she had spent a little too much time scrolling through old interviews, trying to piece together bits of Jungeun’s preferences.
But Jungeun didn’t need to know that.
—
The city at night was quieter than usual, the hum of passing cars and the distant glow of streetlights casting a dreamy haze over the roads.
Jiyoon tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove, sneaking glances at Jungeun in the passenger seat.
Jungeun, with her hoodie pulled over her head and arms tucked close, looked more relaxed than Jiyoon had ever seen her.
No stage lights, no cameras, no blinding pressure of being an idol, just a girl sitting beside her, yawning as she scrolled through her phone.
“You better not fall asleep,” Jiyoon teased, making a slow turn onto a quieter street.
Jungeun groaned, shifting in her seat. “No promises. I’m only here for the snacks.”
Jiyoon scoffed. “So I’m just your chauffeur now?”
“Yeah, and a free one at that,” Jungeun shot back with a grin, finally looking away from her screen.
Jiyoon rolled her eyes but smiled. She didn’t mind. Not when she got to steal these moments with Jungeun, these little pockets of time that felt like they belonged only to them.
Their schedules never aligned, always tangled in a mess of training, performances, and tournaments.
But tonight, they had managed to carve out yet another a sliver of time where they weren’t Jiyoon, the rising athlete, and Jungeun, the star of New Topia.
They were just two people in a car, on their way to buy snacks like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The bell jingled softly as they stepped inside the convenience store, the fluorescent lights making everything feel a little too bright compared to the night outside.
Jungeun immediately gravitated toward the snacks, scanning the shelves with the precision of someone who took her junk food seriously.
Jiyoon trailed behind, watching with amusement.
“You act like you haven’t eaten in days,” Jiyoon commented as Jungeun grabbed a pack of chocolate covered biscuits.
Jungeun gave her a deadpan look. “I have to watch what I eat all the time. This is my cheat day. Let me live.”
Jiyoon held up her hands in surrender. “By all means, go ahead Princess.”
And Jungeun did.
Jiyoon found herself carrying an armful of snacks that Jungeun had picked out, chips, candy, a few energy drinks, and even a cup of instant ramen.
Jungeun, meanwhile, had her hands full with ice cream and a bag of gummies.
“You’re really gonna eat all of that?” Jiyoon asked as they approached the cashier.
Jungeun looked up and cutely smiled at her. “We’re sharing, obviously.”
Jiyoon tried to ignore the way her heart stuttered at that.
As the cashier rang up their items, Jungeun nudged her lightly. “Hey, you pick something too.”
Jiyoon glanced at the shelf nearby and grabbed a random chocolate bar, tossing it onto the counter. Jungeun glanced at the brand and snorted.
“That’s literally the most basic one here.”
Jiyoon shrugged. “Classic for a reason.”
Jungeun just shook her head, amused, before paying for their haul. Jiyoon would’ve argued, but Jungeun gave her a look that said, I make more money than you, don’t even try it.
Fair enough.
With bags in hand, they headed back to the car, the cool night air making Jungeun shiver slightly.
Jiyoon, without thinking, reached out and tugged Jungeun’s hoodie up properly over her head. Jungeun blinked up at her in surprise.
“What was that for?”
Jiyoon shrugged, playing it off. “You looked cold.”
Jungeun’s lips curled into a small smile, something unreadable in her expression, but she didn’t tease Jiyoon for it like she usually would.
Instead, she murmured, “Thanks,” before getting into the car.
Jiyoon tried not to think too hard about it.
Back in the car, Jungeun wasted no time tearing into a bag of chips while Jiyoon opened her chocolate bar.
The radio played softly in the background, a late night indie song filling the silence between them.
Jungeun suddenly gasped dramatically. “Oh my god.”
Jiyoon nearly choked. “What?”
Jungeun pointed at her. “You’re getting crumbs on my car.”
Jiyoon looked down. Sure enough, there were a few tiny chocolate flakes on her lap. She wiped them off quickly. “Your car?”
“Yes,” Jungeun huffed. “I am now claiming this as my car.”
Jiyoon rolled her eyes. “Fine, Your Highness. Anything else?”
Jungeun leaned back, popping another chip into her mouth. “Nope, I’m good. Keep driving, peasant.”
Jiyoon burst out laughing, shaking her head as she started the car. Jungeun’s dramatics were never ending.
They drove around mindlessly, snacking and chatting about random things music, food, the most ridiculous news headlines they could find.
Jiyoon found herself glancing at Jungeun more than she should, memorizing the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the way she scrunched her nose when something tasted too sweet.
She had known Jungeun for a while now. Knew her as an idol, as a performer, as someone admired by millions.
But this Jungeun?
The one beside her, laughing over something stupid, stealing bites of her chocolate, humming along to the radio?
This Jungeun felt like a secret and Jiyoon didn’t mind keeping her all to herself.
Eventually, they parked at a quiet overlook, the city lights twinkling below them.
Jungeun sighed contently, finishing the last of her ice cream. “This was fun,” she admitted, voice softer than before.
Jiyoon nodded. “Yeah.”
A beat of silence. Then, as if remembering something, Jiyoon reached into the backseat.
“Here,” she said, holding out a small bouquet of three Gerbera daisies.
Jungeun stared. “You bought me flowers?”
Jiyoon suddenly felt self conscious, giggled nervously, “Uh.. yeah?”
Jungeun reached out, taking them gently. “These are my favorite.”
Jiyoon rubbed the back of her neck. “I know.”
Jungeun’s gaze flickered to her, confused on why it was only three. So she asked.
“Why three?”
Jiyoon hesitated, then said, “You’ve seen Drawing Closer, right?”
Jungeun’s breath hitched slightly.
Of course she had.
In the movie, three Gerberas symbolized unspoken feelings, words left unsaid but deeply felt.
Jungeun looked down at the flowers, then back at Jiyoon, realization dawning in her eyes.
For once, she didn’t have a witty remark.
For once, Jiyoon didn’t need to explain.
The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.
Just the sound of the wind, the distant hum of the city, and the quiet understanding settling in their chests.
Jungeun smiled, tucking the flowers close. “You’re such a loser.”
Jiyoon let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah.”
But Jungeun was still holding onto the flowers, her grip careful, her expression soft.
And that was enough.
For now.
—
Jungeun ✅ @bellachoi_
Three Gerberas ❤️🩹
attached: a picture of three gerberas with a glimpse of Jiyoon in the background.
[Comments]
[-] OMYGOD IS THAT JIYOON?
[-] GUYS ITS YOON JIYOON, THAT ATHLETE. LORD I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED THEM BOTH TOGETHER.
[-] our jungeunie soft launching jiyoon 😍😍😍
+500k comments
—
The streets were quiet, the glow of the streetlights casting long, golden streaks across the nearly empty roads.
Jiyoon’s hands rested comfortably on the wheel, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between them.
Jungeun sat in the passenger seat, a lollipop in her mouth, lazily going over her next schedule.
This wasn’t their first late-night drive, but it felt different.
Ever since they had started meeting up in secret, there had been this undercurrent between them. It was no secret they were both into each other.
They were just too cowardly to make a move.
Jungeun tapped her fingers against the console absentmindedly. “Are we just gonna drive forever, or do you actually have a destination in mind?”
Jiyoon glanced at her with a knowing smirk. “And ruin the mystery?”
Jungeun rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Truthfully, she liked this.
The freedom of sneaking away from everything,
the cameras, the expectations, the carefully curated lives they both led. It was just them, the open road, and the occasional stolen glance.
Jiyoon finally pulled into a convenience store parking lot, killing the engine. Jungeun let out a dramatic sigh. “Wow. Such a romantic getaway.”
Jiyoon laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt. “We both wanted snacks, didn’t we?”
Jungeun huffed, but her lips curled into a smile as she followed Jiyoon inside.
The store was practically empty, save for the cashier, who looked half asleep at the counter.
They moved through the aisles in comfortable silence, occasionally holding up random items to each other.
“Do I get the chips or the chocolate?” Jungeun asked, holding up both.
Jiyoon gave her a deadpan look. “Obviously both.”
Jungeun grinned. “See, this is why I tolerate you.”
Jiyoon snorted. “Wow. High praise.”
They paid for their snacks and slipped back into the car, Jungeun immediately ripping open her bag of chips while Jiyoon leaned back against her seat, one arm lazily draped over the wheel.
Jungeun stole a glance at Jiyoon, the way the dim glow of the dashboard lights cast soft shadows over her features.
Her hair was slightly messy, her lips parted slightly as she absentmindedly bit the tip of her thumb. Jungeun had seen her countless times before, but this was different.
Jiyoon suddenly turned to her, catching her staring. Jungeun quickly looked away, shoving another chip in her mouth to play it off.
“You’re acting weird,” Jiyoon teased.
“You’re acting annoying,” Jungeun shot back.
Jiyoon just chuckled, but in her mind raced a thousand thoughts.
They sat there in silence, the radio playing some soft, indie song in the background. The night felt too quiet, too intimate.
Jungeun shifted slightly, suddenly hyper aware of how close they were in the enclosed space of the car.
And then, Jiyoon reached into the backseat, rummaging through a small paper bag before pulling something out and holding it toward Jungeun.
A small, silver necklace with a single initial.
J.
Jungeun blinked, her fingers hesitating before she took it, feeling the cool metal against her skin. “What’s this?”
Jiyoon cleared her throat, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy. “I, uh.. kind of had it made. Got one for myself, too.”
Jungeun looked up, noticing for the first time that Jiyoon was already wearing an identical one around her neck. Same simple silver chain, same small J dangling from it.
Jungeun suddenly felt her cheeks heat up. “Wait. You actually—” She swallowed. “Why?”
Jiyoon just shrugged. “Thought it was fitting.”
Jungeun stared at the necklace in her palm, feeling something tighten in her chest. It was so simple. So small. But it meant something. It was them.
She smiled as she stared at it.
She clasped the necklace around her neck, fingers lingering over the cool metal. “You’re kind of sentimental, huh?”
Jiyoon scoffed, looking away. “Shut up.”
Jungeun bit her lip to keep from smiling even more. If she smiled more, she felt her cheeks would rip off.
When she looked up again, Jiyoon was already watching her.
Her breath hitched.
There it was again. Those unsaid feelings.
The thing that had been creeping into their moments for weeks now, lingering in their conversations, in their glances, in the way their hands always seemed to find each other without thinking.
Jungeun’s heart pounded. She should say something anything, but before she could, Jiyoon was already moving.
A slow, almost hesitant lean forward.
Jungeun didn’t pull away.
She could feel Jiyoon’s breath, warm and uncertain, mingling with hers. Her gaze flickered between Jiyoon’s lips and her eyes, waiting.
And then, the smallest, softest brush of lips.
It was barely a kiss, more of a question than an answer, but it sent a shiver down Jungeun’s spine.
She exhaled shakily, her fingers curling around the hem lf Jiyoon’s sweater.
Jiyoon pulled back just enough to search her expression, her brows slightly furrowed, almost like she was expecting Jungeun to push her away.
She didn’t.
Instead, she tilted her head and closed the distance again.
This time, it wasn’t a question.
It was an answer.
Jungeun wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, lips brushing, hearts hammering, hands hesitating before finally, finally resting against each other.
Soft, unsure, but there.
When they finally pulled away, neither of them spoke.
They didn’t need to.
Jungeun pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes flickering to Jiyoon, who was already looking at her with the kind of expression that made Jungeun’s stomach flip.
“So, you’re not gonna say anything about it?”
Jungeun snorted, the spell breaking slightly. “What do you want me to say?”
Jiyoon hummed, pretending to think. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe something like ‘Wow, Jiyoon, you’re such a great kisser, I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.’”
Jungeun rolled her eyes, laughing. “You are actually so insufferable.”
“Says you. You kissed me back.”
Jungeun groaned, hiding her burning face in her hands. “I take it back. This was a mistake.”
Jiyoon only grinned, leaning back in her seat, looking ridiculously pleased with herself. “Too late for that, sweetheart.”
Jungeun peeked at her through her fingers, a small smile playing at her lips.
Yeah. Too late. And honestly? She was okay with that.
But little do they know, their moment had been captured.
—
[BREAKING❗️] "Sports and K-Pop Worlds Collide: Jiyoon and Jungeun’s Late Night Meeting Sparks Dating Rumors"
[KoreaTimes] "Paparazzi Photo Leak Raises Questions About Privacy for Celebrities Like Jungeun and Jiyoon"
[Comments]
[-] “I KNEWWW IT GUYS. JUYOONZ SUPREMACY 🫦”
[-] “This is such a power couple moment. Music and sports coming together? We love to see it.”
[-] “Dating rumors again. Can we focus on her music instead?”
[-] “Im telling y’all, this is another PR stunt. They do this all the time before comebacks. Smh.”
—
Buzzing. Vibrating. Relentless ringing that didn’t stop.
Jiyoon groaned as she turned in bed, her arm blindly reaching for the source of the noise.
She grabbed her phone and squinted at the screen. 27 missed calls from Sujung.
She barely had time to process before her phone started vibrating again.
Jiyoon exhaled sharply and picked up. “What?” she grumbled, voice thick with sleep.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Sujung’s voice was sharp, urgent. “Why aren’t you answering? Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”
Jiyoon sat up properly, suddenly awake. “What?”
“Oh my god. Check your phone, check the news, check Twitter. Just check something, Jiyoon. You and Jungeun are everywhere.”
Jiyoon’s heart stopped. The sleep fogging her brain disappeared instantly as she scrambled to open Twitter.
And there it was.
Front page news. Every trending hashtag.
A high quality shot of her and Jungeun kissing.
Jiyoon’s blood ran cold.
Jiyoon of Korea’s rising badminton stars and Jungeun of New Topia spotted in an intimate moment—dating rumors spark overnight!
Another article.
Athlete Jiyoon and Idol Jungeun: Secret lovers or just a friendly moment caught on camera?
Then another.
What’s going on between Jiyoon and Jungeun? Fans react to the shocking leaked photos!
‘What the fuck.’ Jiyoon thought as her heart raced, mind reeling with every possible outcome of this.
Jiyoon’s stomach twisted. Shit.
She barely had time to breathe before her phone buzzed again, another call from Sujung.
“I need you at the agency, now,” Sujung said before Jiyoon could even speak. “No excuses.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Jiyoon muttered, already throwing the covers off her legs.
But before she could even stand up,
Another call.
This time, it was from Jungeun.
Jiyoon hesitated for only a second before answering.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” Jungeun’s voice was quiet.
Jiyoon closed her eyes, sighing. “Yeah.”
“I have to go to my company,” Jungeun said, voice unreadable. “They want to talk about this.”
“Same here.” Jiyoon clenched her jaw. “What are you going to say?”
A beat of silence.
Then Jungeun exhaled softly.
“I don’t know yet.”
—
Jungeun sat in the conference room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The walls were lined with framed awards and posters of New Topia’s biggest moments, a reminder of everything she had worked for.
But right now, none of it felt like an achievement, it felt like something she had to protect.
Across from her, the CEO exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. The tension in the room was thick.
Managers, PR representatives, and the other five members of New Topia, Koko, Saebi, Jeemin, Sarang, and Mai, were all seated around the long, polished table.
Jungeun could feel every pair of eyes on her.
“You know why we called you in,” the CEO finally said. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried an undeniable weight.
“This is a serious issue, Jungeun. You were photographed in a compromising situation, and the media has already run with it. Fans are in an uproar, and our sponsors are asking questions. Do you realize how much damage this could cause?”
Jungeun’s stomach twisted, but she kept her expression neutral. “I know,” she said simply.
Her manager Fuko, a woman who had been with her since the early training days, sighed.
“Jungeun, this isn’t just about you. It’s about New Topia as a whole. The group’s reputation, the company’s relationships with brands. We have to be extremely careful about how we handle this.”
“I understand,” Jungeun said, her voice steady. “But I won’t lie.”
That sentence alone sent a ripple of reactions across the room. Some of the PR staff exchanged worried glances.
Fuko’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she had been expecting this response but still wished Jungeun had said something different.
Before anyone else could speak, Koko leaned forward, arms crossed. “With all due respect, why does this have to be an issue? Jungeun didn’t do anything wrong.”
Saebi nodded. “She was literally just living her life. People date. People fall in love. Just because she’s an idol doesn’t mean she’s not allowed to feel things.”
Jeemin scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “If we make her deny it, we’re just making it worse. Fans will see right through it. And they’ll hate it more than the truth.”
Jungeun’s heart swelled with gratitude, but she didn’t let it show on her face.
The CEO pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand what you’re saying,” he said after a long pause. “But we also have to be realistic.
This isn’t about whether Jungeun has the right to date, it’s about how the public perceives it.”
“Right now, the narrative is spiraling out of control. We need to regain that control before it affects the group’s trajectory.”
Sarang, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “Respectfully, sir, New Topia is one of the biggest girl groups right now. We’re not in the early days where one scandal could make or break us.”
“Our fans are dedicated. If anything, they’ll stick by us even more if we handle this honestly.”
Mai, sitting beside her, nodded in agreement. “And forcing Jungeun to lie will only hurt her, and by extension, us.”
The CEO exhaled again, looking from one member to the next. It was clear that he hadn’t expected this kind of unified resistance.
Usually, idols in this situation would lower their heads and comply, doing whatever it took to preserve their careers. But New Topia wasn’t just a group of idols following orders, they were a team.
Finally, the CEO turned back to Jungeun. “So, what do you propose?”
Jungeun took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I’ll release a statement. I won’t outright confirm anything, but I also won’t deny it.”
The PR head, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward. “That’s a risky approach. If you leave things open ended, the speculation won’t die down.”
“But if I lie,” Jungeun countered, “it’ll only make it worse when the truth eventually comes out.”
The CEO studied her for a long moment. Then, with a tired sigh, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll draft a statement together. But from here on out, be careful. You know how this industry works.”
Jungeun nodded. “I do.”
The meeting wrapped up shortly after, and as soon as they left the room, her members gathered around her.
“You good?” Koko asked, nudging her shoulder.
Jungeun let out a small breath, allowing herself to relax just a little. “Yeah. Thanks, guys.”
Saebi grinned. “What kind of group would we be if we didn’t back you up?”
Sarang smirked. “Besides, we all saw this coming. It was only a matter of time before you and Jiyoon got caught.”
Jeemin laughed. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”
Mai smiled softly. “We just want you to be happy.”
Jungeun felt warmth spread through her chest. No matter what the public thought, no matter how the industry reacted, she had her team. She wasn’t alone in this.
On the other side, Jiyoon sat in her training center’s office, her manager, Sujung, pacing in front of her.
The tension in the room was killing her, and her phone wouldn’t stop vibrating with incoming calls and messages. She knew what they were all about.
Might as well shut the phone off.
“You just had to get caught, huh?” Sujung sighed, finally stopping to face her. Her tone wasn’t angry, just exasperated.
“Do you have any idea how many calls I’ve gotten in the past hour? The association, sponsors, reporters. Everyone wants a statement.”
Jiyoon leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “So? What do you want me to do? Pretend it wasn’t me? Say the pictures are fake?”
Sujung sighed, rubbing her temples. “That’s not the point, Jiyoon. You’re an athlete. Your image is different from an idol’s.”
“Relationships in the entertainment industry are one thing, but in sports, discipline and focus are everything. If people think you’re distracted—”
Jiyoon cut her off. “Then let them think that. I just won my last championship. Have I ever given anyone a reason to doubt my focus?”
Sujung hesitated. “No, but—”
“Then this shouldn’t matter,” Jiyoon said firmly. “I’m not going to lie, and I’m definitely not going to throw Jungeun under the bus.”
Her manager studied her for a moment before sighing again. “Fine. We’ll release a short statement. Keep it professional, don’t confirm too much, but don’t deny it either.”
Jiyoon sighed, grateful her manager isn’t pushing the issue further. “Great. Sounds like a plan.”
Sujung gave her a look. “Try not to look so smug about it.”
Jiyoon just shrugged. “Can’t help it.”
Now her next step, Jungeun.
—
Jiyoon’s footsteps were rushed, uneven, and she barely registered the fact that she hadn’t even bothered to disguise herself properly.
A hoodie and a cap, like that would stop anyone from recognizing her, of all people, the freshly exposed athlete caught up in the biggest dating scandal of the year.
But she didn’t care, she had to go to Jungeun.
Her phone was still buzzing in her pocket. Messages from her manager, from Sujung, from her teammates, all telling her the same thing. To stay put, don’t make any rash moves, let the company handle this.
But how could she?
Her mind was racing, looping back to the look on Jungeun’s face in those blurry paparazzi shots.
The angle was grainy, but Jiyoon had memorized every inch of that face by now. Jungeun had been smiling. Soft, content, completely at ease in her arms, like the world outside their moment didn’t exist.
And now? Jiyoon had no idea what Jungeun was thinking, what she was being told behind the closed doors of her company.
She gritted her teeth.
Would Jungeun regret it? Would she take it all back? Would she perhaps break it off between them?
Jiyoon swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe.
She had to believe in her.
Jungeun wasn’t the type to lie. She wasn’t the type to back down just because people told her to.
If Jungeun really wanted to end things, she would say it to her face. Not through headlines. Not through a carefully crafted agency statement.
She wasted no more time and walked faster to Jungeun’s dorm. Sprinting even.
Only to stop short at the sight in front of her.
A crowd.
No, a mob.
Fans, sasaengs, and reporters all gathered outside Jungeun’s dorm, their voices clashing together in a chaotic mess of yelling and camera flashes.
Some held banners of support, some were shouting questions, and others, Jiyoon’s stomach churned at the sight, had their phones up, live-streaming the situation like it was some spectacle for entertainment.
‘What the fuck? This is not fan behavior anymore.’ Jiyoon thought.
Jiyoon pulled her cap lower, stepping back into a nearby entrance. Thank god she knew the way.
This was worse than she thought. Jungeun was probably trapped inside, unable to even step out without being swarmed.
Jiyoon clenched her fists. There was no way she was turning back now.
So she made her way up to Jungeun’s room.
Jungeun barely had time to process anything before there was a frantic knock at her dorm door. She already knew who it was before she even opened it.
Jiyoon.
The second the door swung open, Jiyoon rushed in, her breath uneven like she had been running.
Jungeun stood there, clad in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, her hair slightly damp like she’d just taken a shower.
The exhaustion in her eyes was obvious, but the moment she saw Jiyoon, her expression softened.
She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, staring at Jungeun with wide, desperate eyes. Jungeun barely had the chance to take her in before she was being pulled into a tight embrace.
Jiyoon’s arms wrapped around her, holding on like she was scared Jungeun would slip away if she let go.
Jungeun blinked, caught off guard, before immediately hugging her back.
Jiyoon let out a shaky breath, burying her face against Jungeun’s shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do,” she whispered.
Jungeun’s heart clenched. “Babe..”
Jiyoon didn’t waste time and immediately went to the couch, rambling about what happened.
“I woke up to so many calls,” Jiyoon continued, her voice trembling. “My manager, my teammates, reporters… They were all saying the same thing. That we were caught. That it’s everywhere.”
“They kept asking what I was going to do,” Jiyoon continued. “If I was going to deny it. If I was going to pretend it didn’t happen.”
She tightly clenched her hands. “I didn’t answer them. I couldn’t.”
Jungeun opened her mouth, but Jiyoon continued. “They kept talking about you. About us. Saying it was a scandal. A mistake.”
She exhaled shakily. “Love, I don’t care what they say. I just need to hear it from you.”
She swallowed, eyes searching Jungeun’s desperately. “Are you going to leave me?”
Before Jiyoon could react, Jungeun climbed onto her lap, straddling her, hands cupping her face.
“No baby, what made you think that?” Jungeun said and she caressed her head.
“No one’s breaking up anyone,” Jungeun whispered, her forehead pressing against Jiyoon’s. “Not my company. Not the reporters. Not anyone.”
Jiyoon’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers dug into the fabric of Jungeun’s hoodie, her body stiff, like she was afraid to believe it.
“But—”
“No buts,” Jungeun murmured, brushing her thumb along Jiyoon’s cheek. “You think I’d let a few articles scare me away?”
Jiyoon’s lips trembled. “I just.. I just don’t want you to regret this.”
Jungeun tilted her head, studying her for a moment, before sighing. “Love.”
Jiyoon barely had time to process before Jungeun leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her cheeks, her jaw, her forehead, anywhere she could reach.
“Don’t cry, okay?” she murmured. “Im not going to leave you.”
“I’m not crying,” Jiyoon muttered, voice cracking.
Jungeun smiled against her skin, placing one last kiss on the tip of her nose. “Liar.”
Jiyoon let out a shaky laugh, her arms wrapping tightly around Jungeun’s waist. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me.”
Jiyoon exhaled, pressing her forehead against Jungeun’s collarbone. “Yeah. I do.”
Jungeun kissed her temple, fingers tangling in Jiyoon’s hair. “Good. Because I love you too.”
Jiyoon’s grip on her tightened. The world outside could say whatever it wanted. It didn’t matter.
“Who knew the world greatest badminton player would act like a baby in front of Choi Jungeun.” Jungeun teased.
“Shh. We do not talk about that. They can only see my mysterious side.” Jiyoon mumbled.
Jungeun just laughed feeling content. If will always be them against everyone.
—
Jungeun ✅ @bellachoi_
My dear nayas (^○^)
Recently, there have been many discussions surrounding the photos that were released. While I understand the curiosity and speculation, I hope that everyone can respect that there are aspects of my personal life that I would like to keep private. What I can say though, is that Jiyoon is someone I deeply admire, not only for her incredible dedication to her sport but also for the person she is. I ask for your continued support and understanding as I remain focused on my music and the path ahead with New Topia. I love you guys^^
[Comments]
[-] “OMYGOD??? SO THEY ARE TOGTHER!”
[-] “HOLY FUCK SO ITS NOT A PR STUNT. HELL YEAH.”
[-] “They are cute, no denial in that. Congrats lovebirds.”
+1.2m comments
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Jiyoon ✅ @yoonji7
Honestly, I don’t think this should come as a shock to anyone. Jungeun is someone really special to me, and I won’t pretend otherwise just to fit expectations. I know there’s been a lot of talk, a lot of speculation, but at the end of the day, I just hope people can respect that we’re human too. We care for the people we care for, no matter how the world sees it. Thank you to those who have been supportive, it means more than you know 💞
[Comments]
[-] “JIYOON CONFIRMED IT TOOO, WERE HELLAAA SAILING.”
[-] “I called it, been their fan since their on cam interaction. So much chemistry.”
[-] “my parents, aweee. so cute im so excited for pics of them to drop.”
+900k comments
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[Trending #1 on X]
"Jiyoon & Jungeun Confirm Relationship—Fans React to the Unexpected News!"
Other trending topics:
#Juyoonz
#NewTopiaJungeun
#YoonJiyoon
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The day of the Grand Prix tournament arrived with an overwhelming mix of excitement and nerves. Jiyoon had been preparing for this moment for months, every training session, every sweat and tear, leading to this single moment where everything could finally pay off.
The tournament would be a fierce battle, but she was ready. More than ready.
And the best part was that Jungeun would be there to cheer her on.
It had been months since the public confirmation of their relationship. At first, there was a whirlwind of media attention.
But as time passed, their relationship has solidified.
They had found comfort in each other, no longer hiding in the shadows but standing tall together, no matter the challenges.
Jungeun had managed to carve out time in her busy schedule for this day, making sure she was present for Jiyoon's biggest match yet.
Jiyoon stepped into the arena, the crowd's cheers echoing in her ears. She had always thrived under pressure, and today would be no different.
The atmosphere was electric, and she could feel the eyes of the world on her. But there was one pair of eyes she was particularly aware of, Jungeun’s. Sitting among the spectators, her gaze fixed on Jiyoon with nothing but adoration and pride.
The match began, and Jiyoon was unstoppable. Her movements were fluid, sharp, and confident, each stroke of the racket a reflection of everything she had worked for.
She was in her element, her focus unbreakable, and every point scored only added fuel to the fire that burned within her.
As the final point approached, the tension was palpable. The crowd held its breath as Jiyoon executed a perfect smash, sending the shuttlecock flying past her opponent. The referee's whistle rang out, signaling her victory.
The crowd went insane. Jiyoon’s heart stopped when she realized she has just won the tournament. She looked at Jungeun who was across the other side of the court and gave her a smile.
‘I did it.’ She mumbled to Jungeun.
After a while, she received her medal and trophy, Jiyoon was escorted to the interview area, where a reporter with a mischievous smile greeted her.
"Congratulations, Jiyoon! Another victory in the books," the reporter said, her voice brimming with excitement.
"But we can't ignore the elephant in the room. We know your girlfriend, Jungeun, is watching from the headquarters today. How does it feel to have her cheering you on from the sidelines?"
Jiyoon's cheeks flushed, but her smile was radiant.
"It feels amazing," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "She's been my biggest supporter from day one, and having her here today just makes it all the more special."
The reporter grinned, clearly enjoying the playful teasing. "You must be feeling even more motivated with her in the audience, huh?"
Jiyoon chuckled, a little nervous but mostly giddy. "I always feel motivated, but today, it feels like everything's falling into place. I owe a lot of this victory to her, and I’m just happy she’s here to see it."
The interviewer looked at the camera and squealed. “Young and in-love. They’re both so lucky to have found each other.”
She continued. “You two have been the talk of the town for quite a while now. How do you manage to juggle such a demanding career with a public relationship? It must be tough sometimes, right?"
Jiyoon’s expression softened, her eyes flicking toward the direction of the stands where Jungeun was seated.
"It’s not always easy," she admitted. "But when you have someone who truly understands you, who supports you unconditionally, it makes everything worth it.”
Jiyoon smiled as she looked at Jungeun. “She’s my rock, and I know we’ll get through whatever comes our way together."
The reporter smiled, clearly satisfied with the answer. "Well, it’s clear that the two of you are an amazing team, both on and off the court. Say something for her on the camera.”
“Ah.” Jiyoon blushed further.
“My baby, thank you for supporting me. I love you so much and congratulations on your win too.”
“And to the audience, please support my dearest girlfriends recent comeback! It will also be like supporting me too.” She finalized and blew a kiss to the the screen.
The reporter chuckled. “Well thank you Jiyoon, we hope to see more wins from you.”
After the interview, Jiyoon stepped backstage, a weight lifted off her shoulders now that the competition was over.
She was still riding the high from the win, but it was the thought of Jungeun waiting for her that made everything feel even more rewarding.
As soon as she entered the hallway, she spotted Jungeun leaning against the wall near the exit, arms crossed and a soft smile on her face as she watched the chaos around them.
The moment their eyes met, Jiyoon felt her heart skip a beat.
It didn’t matter how many times they’d seen each other, that smile of hers always made Jiyoon’s world feel like it was just right.
"Hey," Jiyoon called out, walking toward her with a grin. "You did well keeping the fans away. I thought I was going to get mobbed on my way in."
Jungeun chuckled, straightening up and stepping forward to meet Jiyoon.
"You’re welcome. The least I can do for my trophy winning girlfriend." Her voice was playful, her teasing smile making Jiyoon’s heart flutter.
Jiyoon rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. "It’s just a medal. No big deal." She shrugged, trying to downplay it even though it meant the world to her.
Jungeun raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. "Just a medal, huh? I guess winning all those matches doesn’t mean much to you."
"I mean," Jiyoon started, her voice softening as she closed the distance between them, "the real win is having you here today. Actually, having you in general.”
Jungeun stepped closed and wrapped her arms around Jiyoon’s nape. “Really now?”
“I used to watch your videos a lot at night, back then. You are really attracting, do you know that?” Jiyoon admitted.
“Mhm~ I sure do.” She said and just stared at her lovingly.
Jiyoon reached up to gently cup her face, leaning in to plant a quick, casual kiss on her lips. It was light and sweet, a kiss full of comfort and reassurance.
When they pulled apart, Jiyoon didn’t step away. Instead, she kept her hand on Jungeun’s cheek, her thumb brushing over her skin as she looked at her fondly.
"Thanks for always being here for me," Jiyoon whispered, a quiet sincerity in her voice. "I really appreciate it."
Jungeun stayed quiet and leaned into the touch, savoring the moment.
"You don’t have to thank me. I’m here because I want to be." She leaned in again, pressing another light kiss to Jiyoon’s lips, the gesture just as casual and full of love as the last.
Jiyoon let out a small laugh, letting resting her forehead against Jungeun’s. "Good thing you do."
—
Jungeun ✅ @bellachoi_
The real award is her @yoonji7 <3
I love you to the moon and back 🐻❄️
attached: Jiyoon back hugging Jungeun while biting her gold medal, with Jungeun kissing her cheeks
[Comments]
[-] “im going to faint.”
[-] “JUYOONZ MEAAAAAAAL WERE GETTING FED.”
[-] “IM PRINTING THIS AND STICKING IN ON EVERY NOOK AND CORNER OF MY ROOM.”
[-] “fuck those people who claimed they wouldnt last. these two are made for each other.”
+2.1m commments
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