Your hand is tucked securely in Minho’s. He’s explaining a play from three minutes ago, his voice steady and familiar.

The Jumbotron screen flickers to life with the familiar, pulsing heart graphic of the kiss cam. The crowd roars in anticipation.

The camera pans across ecstatic, screaming faces. A couple in matching jerseys kisses enthusiastically. Another pair ducks away, laughing.

Then the light lands on you. Your face, wide-eyed and momentarily frozen, fills the giant screen.

On the Jumbotron, your smile falters. It dissolves into something confused, then painfully self-conscious. The crowd’s supportive cheers morph into a wave of sympathetic awws and a few scattered boos.

A tap lands on your shoulder from behind. Light, but deliberate.