​At Dorm

​A handsome man arrived at the dorm with his spare key and opened the door. He let out a soft groan. Kids are something else. The man closed the door quietly behind him, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the rack. It was silent inside—the other members were still asleep. He glanced at his watch. Ah, six.

​Well, time to prepare breakfast for the others. He walked to the fridge, took out ingredients for cooking, and then carried them to the kitchen counter. The sound of a door clicking open made him look up.

​Beom Seok arrived with his hair still damp from the shower, wearing a dark blue dress shirt but not yet his usual blazer.

​Beom Seok noticed him. "Oh, morning, Jaemin hyung!"

​"Ah, good timing, Seokie. Can you help me prepare breakfast?" Jaemin said with a smile.

​Beom Seok beamed. "Of course, hyung. My status as golden maknae not on-"

​Jaemin waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, acting, idol thing, even cooking. I know, no need to keep bragging about it."

​Beom Seok pouted, then undid the button on his shirt sleeve and rolled it up.

​Both the oldest and youngest worked together, cooking and preparing breakfast. Beom Seok hummed one of their songs as he worked.

​Jaemin cooked a traditional Korean dish, then made warm tea. "Nothing beats a good cup of tea in the morning," he said.

He also made toast and sausage, since some members preferred a more Western-style breakfast

​Beom Seok, who was putting plates on the table, hummed in agreement.

​Ding.

​"Seokie, the rice is done," Jaemin said. "Give the usual portion for each plate."

​"Okay, hyung."

​Then, one by one, the other members emerged, fresh from their baths.

​Hajoon wore a white t-shirt with a picture of Ultraman. Nozomu was in a gray tank top. Kangmin had on a loose pink t-shirt, and Minho wore a long-sleeve V-neck shirt.

​They greet each other. And sat at the table.

​ Breakfast Time

​The table was a battlefield of last night’s leftovers and this morning's chaos. Some toast crumbs, egg yolk stains, and half-empty bowls of soup littered the surface.

​Beom Seok sat in his usual seat, neatly chewing his food—back straight, posture perfect, face practically glowing. His appearance was made even more stark by the fact that he was the only one wearing a dress shirt and blazer at the breakfast table.

​Minho leaned in with a smirk. “Tch. Look at Seokie—our visual, even while eating. He never stops being hot.”

​Beom Seok beamed, turning to him proudly. “Right? I always take care of my morning routine.”

​In one swift motion, Minho had stolen Beom Seok’s last sausage. And a few other side dishes.

​Across the table, Kangmin palmed his forehead in exasperation.

Nozomu burst into laughter.

Jaemin groaned.

Hajoon blinked slowly, setting down his chopsticks.

​“Seokie,” Hajoon sighed. “Please. When you eat, focus.”

​Beom Seok huffed, scanning his plate. “Eh? There’s nothing wrong, hyung. I always eat everything clean, I—wait…”

He stared. Half his plate had mysteriously vanished.

​Hajoon shook his head. “Yeah. You need to stay alert. That foxy hyung of ours just turned into Swiper.”

​At that moment, Minho leaned toward Nozomu and whispered, “Foxy, huh? What’s the Japanese fox sound again?”

​Nozomu, between sips of miso soup, whispered back, “Kon.”

​Minho’s eyes twinkled.

​“Kon~”

​He grinned and bit into Beom Seok’s last sausage with smug satisfaction.

​Beom Seok’s eyes widened in horror. “HYUNG!!! THAT WAS MY LAST SAUSAGE!”

​Nozomu giggled. Kangmin sighed, continuing to eat. Jaemin shook his head. "Aish... children." Hajoon, without a word, pushed his own sausage over to Beom Seok's plate. Beom Seok, who had been pouting, immediately brightened. "Thanks, hyung!"

​Minho, who had finished his meal first, chuckled, wiping his mouth. He stood and grabbed his jacket. "Today, I have an early photoshoot session," he smirked. He turned to Beom Seok. "I wish the drama you're doing today was action instead of romance, because then we could have a compilation of you getting punched."

​Beom Seok’s jaw dropped. "Why do you always want Seokie to get hurt?"

​Minho shrugged. "I don't know. It just sounds funny."

​Nozomu wheezed with laughter. "Right?! Seokie-chan is always funny to tease!"

​Kangmin nodded without looking up from his phone. "You getting wrecked is the fastest way to decrease the vanity quota I have about hearing it from you, each day, Seokie."

​Beom Seok let out a small, dramatic whine.

​Hajoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Can we eat in peace... please?"

​Jaemin shook his head. "Sadly, Joonie... our member... is... chaotic."

​Beom Seok sighed, shaking his head. He knew it was all just jokes, but it didn't make the loss of the sausage any easier. He finished the rest of his breakfast in slightly wounded silence, before gathering his own things.

​Just as they finished, their manager arrived and knocked on the door.

​Beom Seok stood up quickly. "I have to go to the acting set today, hyung. Bye!"

​Beom Seok left with the manager.

​Hajoon, with a free day ahead, opened his laptop. "Well, since we have some free time and no comeback schedule... and with Tsuburaya making a Showa Ultra show available for free to celebrate, I'm going to binge it."

​Kangmin just opened his phone to a manhwa site. "Tch, right, it's not updated yet. Sigh, time to switch my language settings from Korean to Bahasa Indonesia."

​Jaemin chuckled. "Haha, Kangmin really became our bilingual member thanks to his manhwa addiction, huh?" He stood up. "Anyway, I'm going to my studio. I know Joonie isn't writing lyrics yet, but making some music will keep my composing skills sharp. So if any of you need anything, just knock harder or just open the door, 'kay?'" He left.

​Nozomu stretched. "Hehe, Jaeniki is right. Since there are no interesting dramas to watch, I'm going to go dancing. Sayonara~"

​On the Way to Set

​Beom Seok sat in the passenger seat of the van, his manager driving. He took off his blazer and carefully folded it, placing it on the seat beside him. He then reached for the bag at his feet, pulling out a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans.

​With a sigh, he unbuttoned his dress shirt, then took it off. The result of his daily workouts was a toned body that he couldn't help but admire. He glanced at the rearview mirror, and his manager's eyes met his. "Don't wink, Seokie," the manager said. Beom Seok pouted. Man, even his manager knows about his vanity. He quickly pulled the hoodie over his head. As he changed, his thoughts drifted to the contrast. The dress shirt and blazer were his preferred style, his true self—the clothes that made him feel like Beom Seok. But the hoodie and jeans were different. This was the outfit of the character he was going to play, a high school teen being shot today at the park.

​Acting Set

​The call sheet for the day was a work of art—a tightly packed grid of times, locations, and scenes that felt less like a schedule and more like a battle plan. Beom Seok was used to it. He’d arrived at the outdoor set—a quiet park in the middle of Seoul—just before noon.

​His car pulled up to a small crowd of crew members, all bundled in jackets and holding coffee cups despite the early hour. The air was a crisp mix of humidity and the scent of newly cut grass. He stepped out of the car, his eyes immediately scanning the area, adjusting to the organized chaos. This was his space. His uniform today wasn’t his usual dress shirt core with the layered blazer. He inwardly pouted. Instead, it was a simple gray hoodie and jeans—the costume of the character he was playing in his latest drama, At Our Seventeen. He felt no objection to the hoodie; after all, it wasn't his. He wasn't Beom Seok here. He was playing a part, and playing a part was something he had always excelled at.

​“Bomsok-ssi, you’re here!” the First Assistant Director, a woman with a perpetually exhausted but sharp expression, called out. “We’re running a little ahead of schedule. Your first scene is with the lead, Nayeon-ssi. We’ll be starting with the walking shot by the fountain.”

​He gave a professional nod. “Got it, Director.”

​Inside the makeup trailer, he settled into the chair and let the stylist and makeup artist work their magic. They were a well-oiled machine, used to the hectic pace of a live-shoot drama. They didn’t fuss over him; they just got to work. His hair, styled just that morning, was now expertly combed into a relaxed but appealing look for the character he was about to play. Thanks to his natural good looks, he was already looking great with just a bit of makeup to enhance it. As there was no late-night schedule, only a touch of foundation to even out his skin tone and a dab of concealer for any minor blemishes was needed. A final touch of lip balm completed the transformation.

​He caught his own reflection in the mirror—not the nerdy college student he was when doing his disguise, but a polished young actor, his face a brand, his presence a fantasy. This was the person he was going to play.

​The set was a hive of activity. A dozen people surrounded the small fountain, adjusting lights, mic-ing the lead actress, and moving props. The director sat in front of a monitor, his face a mask of intense concentration as he watched the scene being set.

​“Okay, Nayeon-ssi, we’ll start with you walking toward the fountain,” the Director said into his microphone. “Bomsok-ssi, you’ll be a few paces behind. You’ll catch up to her, and then we’ll cut. Just a simple, romantic walking scene. We need to get it right. It’s a key part of the opening.”

​Beom Seok took his place, waiting for his cue. He could feel the weight of his reputation. He wasn’t just an actor; he was an idol-actor, a "golden maknae" who had to prove he was more than just a pretty face. His movements had to be precise, his emotions authentic. He wasn't allowed to mess up. Well… that was rare now. After all, he started as a child actor... or rather, a commercial baby. He didn’t really know how it happened, but he guessed he was just a natural on camera.

​He thought to himself: Then again. Ever since I was a kid, I've always loved the camera. And based on what my appa and eomma say... I would become happy whenever I was being recorded. Man, even in the family, I'm the only one who's this vain about my looks. Unlike them.

​He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, and the director gave him a nod. The camera started to roll.

​He walked forward, his expression soft and warm, catching up to the actress just as rehearsed. The moment he reached her side, their eyes met, and he gave a practiced, gentle smile. It was a smile he'd used a thousand times for the camera, a smile that sold the fantasy.

​“Cut!” the Director shouted. “That’s perfect! Bomsok-ssi, where did that come from? It was perfect! You’re on fire today!”

​Beom Seok's heart thumped a little faster. He’d done it. The pressure was real, but so was the satisfaction. He felt a quiet pride in the work, in the ability to create and perform.

​He walked back to his chair, a small, triumphant smile on his face. He caught his reflection in a handheld mirror and saw the idol-actor staring back at him. This was the version of himself the world loved. The one he was proud to be.

​He picked up his phone to check his messages. He had a few from his manager, a few from his fellow members. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He put the phone away, the small smile still on his face, feeling the familiar hum of a day well spent.