​Morning arrived, but for the first time in years, Beom Seok didn't automatically reach for his phone to check his reflection. Fresh from his bath, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his open closet. Rows of dress shirts hung in perfect order—white, cream, light blue, pale yellow—each one pressed and ready. But instead of his usual decisive selection, he just… stared.

​Generic.

​The word echoed in his head like a broken record. He'd barely slept, tossing and turning while Jin ah’s casual dismissal played on repeat: “There’s always a handsome guy in school, in some workplace, in some random job, in some park… Random handsome face number whatever.”

​He finally stood and mechanically pulled out a white dress shirt. As he buttoned it, he caught his reflection in the mirror and paused. The same face that had smiled back at him confidently for twenty-five years now seemed… ordinary. Just another face in a crowd. He reached for his usual light blue blazer, then stopped. What was the point?

​"You're running late, Seokie," Kangmin's voice came from behind him. He was already dressed in a pink hoodie and preparing to leave their shared room.

​"Yeah, I know," Beom Seok muttered, still holding the blazer.

​Kangmin paused at the door, turning back to study his roommate's unusual hesitation. "You... okay?"

​Beom Seok forced his practiced smile. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

​But even as he said it, his hand dropped, leaving the blazer hanging unused.

​The kitchen was its usual morning chaos. Jaemin stood at the stove, effortlessly managing three different pans while humming softly. Minho sat upside-down on a chair, scrolling through his phone. Nozomu was attempting to eat cereal while watching a drama on his tablet, occasionally making exaggerated gasps at plot twists.

​Hajoon glanced up as Beom Seok entered—and immediately did a double-take. "Seokie... where's your blazer?"

​The question made everyone look up. Beom Seok stood there in just his white dress shirt, looking somehow incomplete. "I... didn't feel like wearing one today," he said, sliding into his usual seat.

​The room fell silent except for the sizzling from Jaemin's pans.

​"Are you sick?" Nozomu asked, actually turning away from his drama. "Like, actually sick? Not fake-sick-for-disguise sick?"

​"I'm fine," Beom Seok insisted, but his voice lacked its usual confident ring.

​Minho slowly rotated himself right-side up, studying Beom Seok with narrowed eyes. "Okay, what happened last night? You left here practically floating, and now you look like someone told you dress shirts are going out of style."

​"Nothing happened."

​"Seokie," Jaemin's voice was gentle but knowing as he set a plate in front of him, "you've worn a blazer, vest, or overcoat every single day for the past ten years. Today you look..."

​"Normal," Kangmin finished quietly.

​The word hit like a slap. Beom Seok flinched visibly.

​"There it is," Minho said, pointing. "Someone got to our golden maknae. Who was it? I'll fight them."

​"You can't fight a girl," Beom Seok mumbled without thinking.

​Another moment of silence.

​"A girl?" Hajoon's eyebrows rose. "This is about a girl?"

​Beom Seok realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. "I mean—no—it's not—"

​"It's definitely about a girl," Nozomu said gleefully. "Our Seokie-chan got his pretty little feelings hurt by a girl!"

​"She didn't hurt my feelings," Beom Seok protested, which only made his defensive tone more obvious.

​"What did she say?" Jaemin asked, settling into his own seat with the patience of someone prepared to wait all day for an answer.

​Beom Seok stared down at his untouched breakfast. After a long moment, he whispered, "She said I was generic."

​The reaction was immediate and varied.

​"WHAT?!" Minho's voice cracked with indignation.

​"Generic?" Nozomu sputtered, nearly choking on his cereal.

​"That's..." Hajoon searched for words. "That actually makes sense. In the idol industry, there are so many good-looking people… so I guess 'generic' makes sense."

​Minho shot a look at Hajoon. "Right, our humble leader, but still. I didn't think anyone could wound our Seokie's ego that efficiently."

​"She wasn't being mean," Beom Seok said quietly. "She was just... honest. She said handsome guys are everywhere, so faces like mine are just... normal to her."

​Kangmin, who had been silent, finally spoke. "And that bothers you." It wasn't a question.

​"I..." Beom Seok struggled with the words. "My whole life, people have told me I'm special. Handsome. Different. And she just looked at me like I was..." He gestured helplessly.

​"Like you were a person," Jaemin said gently.

​"A generic person," Beom Seok corrected miserably.

​"Seokie," Hajoon leaned forward, "you're the one who now wants a taste of a normal life, right?"

​The question hung in the air. Beom Seok's cheeks flushed slightly. "I... yes… but I don't think that word hits hard. It feels different."

​"Different how?" Nozomu asked, his teasing tone gentler now.

​"She doesn't care about any of this," Beom Seok gestured around them, encompassing their life, their fame, their world. "She just... exists in her own space. Happy with her anime and her ramyeon shop and her simple life. She doesn't need anything from anyone."

​"Including validation about how special she is," Kangmin observed.

​"Yeah." Beom Seok's voice was small. "And maybe... maybe that's why I want to become friends with her."

​The members exchanged glances over his head.

​"So," Minho said slowly, "the reason why you came back like that that night is because you're upset that someone who doesn't value the things you've built your identity around doesn't think you're as special as everyone else does?"

​When he put it that way, it sounded almost ridiculous. But also... accurate.

​"I guess," Beom Seok admitted.

​"And now?" Jaemin asked.

​Beom Seok was quiet for a long moment. Then he stood up, walked back to his room, and returned wearing his light blue blazer, properly fitted and buttoned. "Now," he said, his voice a little steadier, "I think I want to become proper friends with her."

"I will go—OOF!" Beom Seok's sentence ended in a grunt as Nozomu used his parkour skills not to jump up, but to sweep Beom Seok's legs out from under him. 

In a fluid motion, Nozomu caught him and shoved him backwards onto the couch before he could fall. "And where," Nozomu said, now standing over his dazed maknae, "do you think you're going, Seokie-chan? In that?" He plucked at the luxurious fabric of Beom Seok's blazer. 

"H-hyung?! To... to see her?" 

"He's going to get us all sued," Kangmin sighed. 

Hajoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Seokie. The disguise. Remember? The hoodie, the mask, the 'please don't recognize me' vibe?" 

Jaemin sighed. "You can't go out while wearing a blazer that costs more than her monthly rent. It's intimidating. And terrible for your secret identity." 

Nozomu patted his cheek. "Go on, Seokie. Take off your blazer and switched to hoodie, and take medical mask, glass and mess your hair for the sake of disguise." 

Beom Seok, now thoroughly scolded by his entire band, pouted but obeyed. "Fine... But it's a crime against fashion." 

"It's a necessity against scandal!" all five members shouted in unison.

A few hours later, the arcade was a symphony of controlled chaos. The cacophony of blipping sounds, whirring machines, and excited shouts was a world away from the quiet tension of the ramyeon shop or the polished halls of Starline Entertainment.

​Jin ah led the way with the confidence of a regular, heading straight for a racing game. Dae followed, his eyes already scanning the room like he was assessing a patient. Beom Seok trailed behind them, his posture still carefully slouched in his "sickly college student" disguise—hoodie, medical mask, and nerdy glasses doing their best to hide the crisp dress shirt and sharp-eyed idol beneath.

​It was… nice. Overwhelming, but nice. For a few minutes, he almost forgot himself, laughing as Jin ah utterly failed at a claw machine and Dae celebrated a minor victory at a shooting game with a loud "Shannaro!"

​Their next stop was the dance machines. Two cabinets stood side-by-side, flashing with colorful arrows.

​"Alright," Dae said, cracking his knuckles. "Let me show you, Jang Beom Seok, my rhythm is surgically precise."

​"Big words for a doctor," Jin ah challenged, already selecting a song. "Prepare to be wiped off the map. Still kinda sad there's no Naruto song."

​Dae sighed. "Yep."

​Beom Seok felt a familiar itch in his feet. His muscles twitched with the memory of choreography. Don't pose. Don't dance. Just watch.

​He was so focused on suppressing his instincts that he didn't notice the figure approaching the other dance machine until it was too late.

​The guy was a mess of contradictions: a bucket hat pulled low, a pair of comically large red-tinted glasses that made his eyes look like a demon's, and massive headphones around his neck. He wore an unbuttoned plaid shirt over a bright yellow T-shirt featuring Pororo the penguin, paired with jeans that were just the wrong kind of baggy.

​It was the most commitment to a bad disguise Beom Seok had seen since… well, since he last looked in a mirror.

​The guy's movements were sharp. Then he selected a song—a notoriously difficult one that required perfect timing.

​Beom Seok couldn't help it. The critic in him winced. "You might want to start with an easier level," he mumbled, his voice muffled by his mask.

​The guy turned, and despite the ridiculous glasses, Beom Seok recognized the sharp line of his jaw and the way he held his shoulders even under the Pororo shirt.

​The guy's eyes widened behind the red lenses. His gaze flicked from Beom Seok's disguised face to his posture, and a dawning horror—and recognition—crossed his features.

​"Eh? Eunwoo?!" Beom Seok blurted out before he could stop himself.

​"Sunbae-nim?!" Eunwoo gasped, his voice a hushed whisper of panic. He instinctively reached up to ensure his bucket hat was secure.

​"What are you doing here?!" they both said in unison, then glanced around nervously to see if anyone had noticed.

​Jin ah and Dae, who just finished their dance battle, stared at the scene.

​"Uh. You know this… person… Beom Seok?" Jin ah asked, one eyebrow raised at the Pororo shirt.

​Eunwoo, flustered, tried to regain his composure. "It's my free day," he explained, his voice slipping back into its usual polite cadence despite the absurd outfit. "I… come here every day if I'm not busy."

​Dae mouths to Jin ah: "Busy?"

​"And you, Sunbae-nim?"

​Beom Seok gestured vaguely toward his companions. "I was here with... uh…"

​Dae stepped forward, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked between the two disguised idols. "Well, you could say we're 'friends in development'."

​The tension broke as a new song loaded on the machines—an upbeat, intense track perfect for two players.

​Eunwoo looked at the screen, then at Beom Seok, a challenge in his eyes. "Sunbae-nim. A duet?"

​The idol in Beom Seok roared to life. He could never back down from a challenge, especially not about dancing. "You're on."

​In seconds, the two of them were a whirlwind of motion. The "sickly college student" and the "gamer" were gone, replaced by two flawlessly synchronized professionals. Their movements were sharp, precise, and perfectly in time with the music. They didn't just play the game; they performed it. The screen lit up with a relentless stream of "PERFECT" ratings.

​Jin ah and Dae watched, their jaws slightly agape.

​"...Dae," Jin ah whispered, her competitive spirit igniting. "They're kinda unfair."

​Dae nodded slowly, a surgeon's appreciation for their skill warring with his desire to win. "You're right."

​A mischievous glint appeared in Jin ah's eyes. "Should we use Distraction Style: Tickle No Jutsu to drop their scores?"

​A wide, wicked grin spread across Dae's face. "Oh… absolutely."

​And as Beom Seok and Eunwoo entered the final, most intense part of the song, entirely in their element, they were completely unaware of the two "friends in development" sneaking up behind them with mischief on their minds.

Jin-ah crept behind Beom Seok while Dae flanked Eunwoo. In unison, their hands flew through a series of signs: Boar, Horse, Tiger, Hare. 

"Distraction Style: Tickle No Jutsu!" they yelled in unison. 

"Wh-wait! S-stop! Hehe!" Beom Seok yelped, his concentration shattered as he squirmed. "GYAH!" Eunwoo shrieked, his flawless posture breaking into a helpless wiggle. The screen lit up with a relentless stream of "MISS! MISS! MISS!”

​Both idols turned and glared.

​The two best friends raised their arms in mock surrender. "What can we say, it's all fair in a game."

Eunwoo slouched in defeat. "Aish... there goes my high score." He pointed a thumb at the three letters at the top of the screen: BYH.

Beom Seok's eyes widened slightly in recognition. He knew that name. "BYH...?" he muttered, almost to himself.

Eunwoo caught his look and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head—a silent warning. Not here. Not now.

"Just a gamer name," Eunwoo said quickly, his voice shifting back to a casual, neutral tone to throw off their audience. He shrugged, playing it off. "You know how it is. Random letters."

Beom Seok immediately understood the cue. He cleared his throat. "Right. Random. Looks... familiar, though."

"Lots of gamers out there," Eunwoo replied smoothly, though his eyes held a flicker of gratitude for Beom Seok playing along.

Jin-ah and Dae, meanwhile, were too busy celebrating their successful "Tickle No Jutsu" to notice the silent, loaded exchange between the two disguised idols.

​Then Beom Seok's stomach growled. Right, he had forgotten to eat. He came to the ramyeon shop to eat and talk with Jin ah, but he had only talked and not eaten.

​Jin ah said, "Ah, right. Taking you here before you eat is my mistake. Follow me. Let's go to a place that doesn't have a lot of people."

​Beom Seok looked at her. "Huh, there's a place like that?"

Dae laughed. "Nah, not that. It's just our secret friendship place. And I gotta say, you both are now a part of our friends." He figured a private spot was the best idea—especially for two guys who clearly needed to hide out. He nodded at Jin-ah, grateful she'd suggested it.