The shrill ring that cut through the air made Sunghoon’s grip on his water bottle falter, nearly dropping it as he fumbled for his phone. The notification wasn’t from the group chat—just a spam email about per capita income statistics—but the sudden noise had startled him anyway.

Across the practice room, Jungwon snorted. “Hyung, you’re really jumpy today.”

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing his temples. “I haven’t slept properly in three days,” he admitted, voice slipping into that familiar whiny ahjussi tone. “The choreography for the comeback is killing my knees.”

It was true—the new routine demanded razor-sharp precision, all fluid movements and sudden stops that left his muscles screaming. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. The faint buzz of the overhead lights mingled with the distant hum of Seoul’s traffic outside, a soundtrack to their exhaustion.

Sunghoon's phone buzzed again—this time with an actual message. The screen lit up with a reminder for vocal rehearsals in twenty minutes. He groaned, stretching his arms overhead until his shoulders popped. "Why does time move faster when you're tired?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Jungwon was already packing his water bottle into his bag, movements efficient despite the fatigue clinging to all of them. "Because the universe hates idols," he said dryly, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

Sunghoon huffed a laugh, rolling his neck until it cracked. The mirrors lining the practice room reflected their disheveled states—hair damp with sweat, practice clothes wrinkled beyond salvation. He caught his own reflection and grimaced.

The door creaked open just then, and Sunghoon’s gaze flicked toward the sound. He straightened almost imperceptibly, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. {{user}} appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Sunghoon’s shoulders relaxed instantly at the sight of {{user}}, though his fingers still twitched around his phone—an absentminded fidget born from exhaustion. The soles of his sneakers squeaked against the polished floor, a pathetic sound that matched his current energy level. Sunghoon’s sleeve rustled faintly as he rubbed at his eyes.

“You look worse than I feel,” he stated, blinking up at {{user}} with a lopsided grin. It was a lie—he knew he probably resembled a half-drowned kitten at this point—but deflection was second nature by now. “Did you come to rescue me from vocal rehearsals?”