Kangmin was curled on his favorite corner of the couch, fully absorbed in the latest chapter of his manhwa. Across from him, Minho was sprawled upside down, his legs draped over the sofa's back as he scrolled through his phone. Nearby, Nozomu was lost in a drama, his reactions a series of quiet, muttered commentaries.

The main event, however, was happening in Jaemin's personal studio. The soft strum of an acoustic guitar filtered through the slightly ajar door, accompanied by the warm, low murmur of two voices. Hajoon and Jaemin were deep into a special VLIVE session.

Though Jaemin was an idol now, he never forgot his roots as a beloved guitar cover YouTuber. For his loyal longtime subscribers, these occasional, raw acoustic sessions were a cherished gift. Tonight, they were treating their fans to a nostalgic trip: stripped-down, heartfelt covers of three of their own songs—their powerful debut track, a sweet Valentine's Day ballad, and the fan-dedicated White Day response.

In the middle of this peaceful scene, Beom Seok emerged from his room. The transformation was complete: medical mask, nerdy glasses, and a hoodie he still found deeply objectionable. He was a ghost in his own home, ready to slip out into the night.

He paused by the couch. "Seokie is going out now!"

Kangmin didn't look up from his phone, but his deadpan voice cut through the room's ambiance. "Be careful. Don't get caught."

Beom Seok nodded, a genuine smile touching his eyes even if it was hidden under his mask. "Thanks, hyung."

The night air was cool outside. He’d only walked a block when he saw a familiar, exhausted-looking group trudging in the opposite direction. It was ZX0, looking utterly spent. Their hair was damp with sweat, and their casual clothes were rumpled.

Baekho, the tallest, was practically dragging his feet. "Oh man... busking in five different locations is really tiring..."

Hajin nodded, his military-straight posture the only thing not sagging. "...But our objective is completed, Leadernim."

Eunwoo, who was leading the tired pack, let out a breathless laugh and loosened his tie. "Haha... ha... yeah... ugh, I'm so hungry. I need chicken."

Jaehyun perked up slightly. "D-don't worry... I will cook when we arrive at the dorm!"

Jaenur slung an arm around him. "Oh, I will help too!"

"Thanks, hyung," Jaehyun replied, looking relieved.

Woojoo just sighed, staring into the middle distance. "I want my bed..."

Moon Gyeoul groaned. “That was….I need rest…”

Le Yang huffed.

Then, as a group, they noticed him. They all offered tired but respectful nods, a few of them murmuring, "Sunbae-nim." Beom Seok gave them a small, understanding wave and made to pass them.

Eunwoo, however, stopped. His voice was a quiet, knowing murmur meant only for Beom Seok's ears. "Visiting her workplace?"

Beom Seok nodded, his own eyes smiling above his mask. "Yep. And getting dinner, too."

Eunwoo let out a genuine, exhausted chuckle. "Ha... As much as I want to join, I'm too dead. Five busking spots... But anyway," his tone softened with concern, "be careful out there, Bomsokie-sunbae."

"Thanks, Eunwoo. Get some rest," Beom Seok replied.

With a final nod, Eunwoo walked and rejoined his group, the tired hoobaes disappearing into the night toward their own dorm. Beom Seok continued on his path, now with a renewed sense of purpose.

He adjusted the medical mask beneath his nose and pushed the nerdy glasses higher on his face. The hoodie was, as always, an affront to his sensibilities, but the crisp collar of his dress shirt peeking out from the top was a small, comforting promise of his real self.

He paused a block away from the shop, leaning against a damp brick wall to catch his breath. Aish, I really am getting older. Twenty-five wasn't ancient, but it was old enough to feel the deep ache of grueling training needed to keep their idol skills sharp. For a second, he almost turned back. The dorm, his bed, and the quiet company of his hyungs were a powerful lure.

He pushed off the wall. No. I need this.

The bell above the ramyeon shop door chimed its soft, familiar note. The warm, savory air washed over him, and the tension in his shoulders eased immediately.

Jin-ah was behind the counter, wiping down surfaces with a focused efficiency.

"It's just me," Beom Seok said. He waved, and when she looked up, he tugged his mask down to reveal a smile.

"I will or—"

"Like the last time?" Jin-ah finished for him, already reaching for a bowl.

Beom Seok blinked. What is with today? Why does everyone keep cutting me off? First his members, now Jin-ah. He managed a slightly flustered nod. "...Yeah. Like usual."

Grateful that the shop was otherwise empty, he began his ritual. His fingers went to the bridge of his nose to remove the nerdy glasses, but the soft chime of the doorbell made him freeze.

Ah. He glanced over. Two men in rumpled suits—office workers on their late way home—had walked in. Well, so much for that.

With a silent sigh of resignation, he left the glasses on his nose and ran a hand through his hair to keep it deliberately messy. The disguise, for now, had to stay partially on.

Jin-ah arrived at his table a moment later, placing his steaming bowl and a cold drink in front of him. She gave him a small, understanding nod. Ah, there are others, she thought. That makes sense. She understood why he hadn't fully shed his disguise.

He began to eat, the rich broth warming him from the inside out. He watched from behind his glasses as Jin-ah efficiently took the new customers' orders and served them with quiet professionalism. Once they were settled with their food, she made her way back over to him, leaning against the counter close to his table.

"Long day?" she asked, her voice low enough not to disturb the other patrons.

Beom Seok glanced up from his bowl, his expression grateful for the question. "You have no idea," he mumbled around a mouthful of noodles, the words slightly distorted but heartfelt. He swallowed. "Just... non-stop. From the moment I woke up until now."

Jin-ah nodded sympathetically, her eyes scanning his face—what little she could see of it above the mask he'd pulled down. "Yeah, I can tell. You've got that... thousand-yard stare. Like you've been in a battle."

He let out a weak chuckle. "A battle to keep my skills sharp and my own hyungs' endless energy. I mean—!" He caught himself, his eyes widening slightly behind the glasses. Idiot! "I mean... against... project deadlines. And my... coworkers' endless... enthusiasm."

He winced internally. That was clumsy. He quickly shoved another bite of ramyeon into his mouth to stop himself from digging the hole deeper.

Jin-ah, however, just nodded again, her theory perfectly intact.

"Lots of repetition until every move is perfect. No room for error." It was the most honest, veiled truth he'd told all night.

"Wow," Jin-ah breathed, her eyes wide with genuine empathy. "And I thought my job was tough. At least my worst day just means burnt noodles, not... corporate espionage or whatever it is you guys do."

Beom Seok almost choked again, this time on air. Corporate espionage? What kind of office did she think he worked in?! He managed to turn the choke into a cough. "Something like that," he rasped, taking a quick sip of his drink.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Beom Seok focused on his food, the simple, delicious act of eating grounding him. Jin-ah busied herself wiping the already-clean counter next to him, giving him space but also keeping him company.

The two office workers finished their meal quickly. As one paid at the counter, the other remained at their table, scrolling on his phone with a tired sigh.

"Long day, ahjussi?" Jin-ah asked politely as she cleared their bowls.

The man looked up, offering a weary smile. "The longest. Only thing keeping me going is knowing my wife is waiting for me at home." He chuckled, then sighed again, more deeply this time. "Well, that and the fact that I'll have to hear all about her latest obsession when I get home."

His friend, finishing the payment, laughed. "What is it this time? Another one of those historical dramas with the confusing names?"

"Worse," the first man groaned, though it was fondly. "She's deep into that actor—you know, the one who was a child star? Grew up right on screen. Jang Beom Seok."

Beom Seok stiffened. His chopsticks froze halfway to his mouth. Every muscle in his body went taut. He kept his eyes locked on his bowl, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. Please don't notice me.

The man continued, oblivious to the idol sitting mere feet away. "She prefers his dramas, thank god. Less screaming than the idol stuff. Though my daughter..." He shook his head with a mixture of affection and exasperation. "I still remember him as that baby in the commercial for that formula. Such a cute kid. Then all those child actor roles. Now an idol. That boy really grew up in the spotlight."

Jin-ah, wiping the now-empty table, glanced over at Beom Seok with a playful smirk. "Looks like your bias is getting talked about again," she said, her voice low. "Quite famous, huh?"

Beom Seok couldn't speak. He managed a tight, jerky nod, forcing a noodle into his mouth to give himself something to do. "Yeah," he mumbled, the word thick and muffled.

The office worker wasn't done. "Even now, my daughter loves his songs. 'Bomsok Oppa this, Bomsok Oppa that.'" He did a surprisingly accurate impression of a teenage squeal. "She's even saving up for a BTSB concert. Luckily, there isn't one announced yet, or she'd drain her entire college fund just for a chance to go to a live show and a fansign event. Sigh... the things they do for these idols."

Jin-ah finished cleaning and walked back towards the counter, her eyes twinkling with amusement at Beom Seok's expense. Seriously? 'Golden'? So that's why on the bus he said he was the 'golden maknae.' It was all clicking into place for her. This is basically his bias's evolution, huh? From 'golden child' to 'golden maknae.'

Beom Seok felt a cold sweat prickle on the back of his neck. He kept his head down, focusing on the last few bites of his ramyeon as if his life depended on it. He could feel the man's gaze could swing his way at any moment. Just stop. Please stop talking about me.

Finally, the man who had paid clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Alright, let's go. Don't want to keep your wife waiting to gush about her favorite actor."

The first man stood up with a grunt. "Right, right. Have a good night," he said to Minji and Jin-ah.

The bell chimed as they left, the door swinging shut and sealing Beom Seok back into the safe, quiet bubble of the shop.

The silence they left behind was heavy. Beom Seok slowly, carefully, set his chopsticks down. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, a long, shaky sigh of relief. That was too close. Way too close.

Jin-ah was watching him, her head tilted. "You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

He looked up at her, his mask of casual indifference firmly back in place, though his heart was still racing. "Just... wasn't expecting to hear all that," he said, trying to sound like a flustered fan, not a terrified idol. "It's... weird, hearing people talk about him so casually."

Jin-ah nodded, completely buying his act. "I get it. It's probably like hearing someone talk about your best friend, even if Bomsok is just your bias. Must be strange." She picked up his empty bowl. "Well, for what it's worth, he sounds like he's had a pretty interesting life."

You have no idea, Beom Seok thought, the irony so sharp it could cut. "Yeah,"he said, his voice finally steadying. "He has."

As the door clicked shut, Beom Seok seemed to physically relax. The slight tension in his shoulders, held there since the men walked in, finally eased. With a quiet sigh of relief, he reached up and finally, finally, took off the nerdy glasses, folding them carefully and setting them on the table.

Then, his hands went to his hair, fingers combing through the deliberately messy strands until they fell into a more natural, styled look. It wasn't the full Bomsok perfection, but it was infinitely more him than the disheveled college student look.

He didn't say a word. He just looked at Jin-ah and gave a small, tired smile.

"Much better?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Much," he confirmed, his voice clearer and more confident without the frame of the disguise. "I hate those glasses."

She grinned. "They're not a great look for you. The 'sickly college student' vibe doesn't really suit you."

"You're telling me," he said with a dramatic sigh, though his eyes were smiling. He took one last, satisfying slurp of his broth and pushed the empty bowl away. "That was exactly what I needed. Thanks, Jin-ah."

"Part of the service," she said, picking up his bowl. "We aim to provide top-tier experiences."

He laughed, a warm, genuine sound that filled the quiet shop. "Well, you succeed."

As he stood to leave, pulling his wallet out, Minji emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Just pay at the counter on your way out. We need to close."

"Of course," Beom Seok said, nodding. He walked to the counter, pulled out the exact amount from his wallet, and handed it over. "Thank you for the meal."

"Just come back again," Jin-ah said, already turning to finish her closing duties. "And try to look less dead next time. Future Regular."

"I'll do my best," he promised, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. He pulled the hoodie back on, adjusted the medical mask and glasses, and messed up his hair once more.

He waved goodbye and stepped out into the night.

The cool air was a shock after the shop's warmth. The conversation with the office workers replayed in his mind, each word a tiny bullet he'd barely dodged.

Golden child. Grew up in the spotlight.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, the screen illuminating his disguised face. It was a notification from a fan cafe—a flood of loving messages and emojis from fans who had just watched Hajoon and Jaemin's raw, acoustic VLIVE.

Under the streetlamp, halfway down the block, he glanced back. The ramyeon shop's warm, glowing window was like a painting. Inside, he was pretty sure Jin-ah was a blur of motion, finishing her closing duties, completely absorbed in her own simple, honest world.

A small, tired smile touched his lips beneath the mask. She had no idea. No idea who he was, no idea how her casual, unfiltered presence was the most refreshing thing in his meticulously managed life.

With a final, longing look at the glowing window, he pocketed his phone turned and continued his walk home. The encounter had shaken him, but it had also solidified his resolve. The peace he found there was worth any risk. He would be back. He would always come back.

For the promise of ramyeon, and for the chance to just be Beom Seok.