Milo:

  I spotted Dak-ho and Yoo waiting just beyond baggage claim, and a wave of relief hit me. Three months. That’s how long it had been since I’d last seen them in person, and man, it felt like forever. I didn’t realize how much I missed these guys until I saw their faces.

  As I walked over, they both closed the distance fast, wrapping me in a tight hug. Not one of those quick, awkward guy hugs—a real one, the kind that squeezed the air out of you. My throat tightened for a second, but I pushed it down.

  Dak-ho pulled back first, smirking. “What’s this? You gonna cry on us?”

  “Shut up,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. It felt good to be back with them, where everything was familiar again.

  Yoo practically bounced on his feet. “Milo, dude, it’s been way too long. Let’s get out of here and grab some tteokbokki.”

  Classic Yoo—always thinking about food. And after months in the U.S., I was missing Korean food more than I cared to admit. No way was I gonna object.

  We grabbed my bags and headed out, but before I stepped through the exit, I found myself glancing back toward the crowd, searching for one last glimpse of Orla. Nothing. No goodbye, no glance back. Just gone. A weird feeling settled in my chest, like I’d left something unfinished. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it didn’t matter. But it felt like it did.

  Shaking it off, I followed the guys to the car. Dak-ho naturally took the driver’s seat—he was always the one behind the wheel, both literally and figuratively. I slid into the passenger seat, and Yoo stretched out in the back like he owned the place. The drive started with the usual updates—what I’d missed, the latest gossip, group stuff. I nodded along, but my mind kept wandering, replaying the past few hours, the little moments that shouldn’t have meant anything but somehow did.

  Absentmindedly, I found myself scrolling through Instagram, searching for her name. Orla. I didn’t even know her last name. That realization made my stomach drop a little. Why hadn’t I asked? Stupid.

  I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice Yoo eyeing me until he snatched the phone right out of my hands.

  “Who’s Orla?” he asked, grinning like he’d just caught me doing something illegal.

  “Give it back, man,” I said, reaching for the phone, but he leaned away, holding it just out of reach.

  “Not until you spill. Who is she?”

  I exhaled, shaking my head. “Just someone I met on the flight.”

  Yoo’s grin widened. “Just ‘someone,’ huh?”

  Dak-ho chuckled from the driver’s seat. “Come on, Milo. Three months away and you’re already keeping secrets? Let’s hear it.”

  I rolled my eyes, giving up the struggle for now. “It’s not like that. I was just curious, alright?”

  Yoo wagged his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Sounds like more than that to me.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Dak-ho kept his eyes on the road but smirked. “Did she give you her SNS?”

  I hesitated. I knew exactly how they’d react, but I answered anyway. “No… I gave her mine.”

  Silence. Yoo and Dak-ho exchanged glances in the rearview mirror, and just like that, the mood shifted.

  “You serious?” Yoo finally said. “Milo, you know better than that. You can’t just hand out your personal socials to random people.”

  Dak-ho nodded. “You’re a K-pop idol. You’ve got to be careful. This could backfire.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, their words sinking in. “I know. It just… felt right at the time. I wasn’t thinking.”

  The car settled into an uneasy quiet, and I stared out the window, processing it all. They weren’t wrong. I knew that. But something about Orla had made me forget the rules, just for a moment.

  I exhaled, about to defend myself, when the car’s Bluetooth chimed, cutting me off. Sang-hoon’s voice came through the speakers, sharp and direct.

  “Hey, are you guys there? Is Milo with you?”

  “Yeah, we’re all here. What’s up, Sang?” Dak-ho answered.

  “Good. Did you guys tell him the news yet?”

  I caught Yoo smirking like he had a secret, then glanced at Dak-ho—same knowing grin. Something was up.

  News? What news?

  After a pause, Sang-hoon dropped the bomb.

  “Milo, you got the part,” he said. “The historical drama you auditioned for three months ago—they just called to confirm. You didn’t get the lead role, but they want you as the second lead.”

  I blinked. The historical drama? I’d almost forgotten about that audition. Hell, I didn’t even think I had a shot.

  It had started as a joke. We were in the practice room between rehearsals, messing around, when Daiki, ever the cocky one, said, “You don’t have the emotional depth for acting.”

  That got under my skin. Daiki was good at everything, sure, but he wasn’t the only one who could rise to a challenge. So when the audition came up, I went for it. Just to prove a point. Just to prove him wrong.

  The audition had been intense. I remember stepping into the room, feeling the weight of every director’s stare. I knew going for the lead was a reach, but I gave it everything. And then... nothing. No callback, no email. With everything that had happened—the injury, the recovery—I’d moved on.

  And now, suddenly, here it was.

  “Are you serious?” I finally asked, still processing.

  “Dead serious,” Sang-hoon replied. “This is a big deal, Milo. We’ll go over the details when you’re settled, but I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

  I sat there, stunned. This was real. A historical drama. A legit role. This could be my chance to break past just being the "K-pop guy."

  “Wow… I—uh… I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “That’s insane.”

  And, of course, there was the added bonus of proving Daiki wrong.

  “Wait, does Daiki know?” I blurted out.

  Sang-hoon chuckled. “Not yet. I thought you’d want to tell him yourself.”

  A slow grin spread across my face. Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “I’ll send you all the details later today,” Sang-hoon continued. “First table read is next week. Get ready. This is a big step, Milo. Make it count.”

  “Got it,” I said, still buzzing with excitement.

  “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Congrats again.”

  The call ended, and the car was silent for a beat before Yoo let out a loud whoop, clapping me on the shoulder.

  “Dude, this is huge! You’re gonna crush it.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, man. This is wild.”

  Dak-ho smirked. “We figured it had to be something big. Sang-hoon’s been itching to tell you.”

  I leaned back in my seat, letting it sink in. This was massive. Not just for my career, but for me. This was my shot to prove that I could do more. That I could be more.

  But as the excitement settled, an old worry crept in.

  My knee.

  The injury had happened so fast, mid-performance at Sonic Rush—an idol variety show. One wrong landing, and I knew. The pain was instant, sharp. I pushed through the rest of the set—I had to—but deep down, I knew something was seriously wrong.

  Surgery. Recovery. Months of grueling rehab. And even now, after all the work, I wasn’t sure I was the same. That doubt gnawed at me, the thought that maybe, just maybe, the others saw me differently now. Like I wasn’t as reliable anymore.

  That’s why this role mattered. It wasn’t just about acting. It was about proving—to them, to the fans, to myself—that I wasn’t done yet. That I could handle this. That I still belonged.

  And proving to Daiki that he was dead wrong? That was just a bonus.

  I smirked, already imagining his face when I tell him.

  Wait until he hears about this.

  ?Sky Mincharo