The VIP after-party for the Melon Music Awards was everything you expected—too many people, too much champagne, too many smiles that didn't quite reach anyone's eyes.

You'd won. Best debut album of the year. Your first award. Your first real night as someone who mattered in this industry.

And all you could think about was how badly you wanted to text him.

You didn't. You hadn't in four months.

That's when you felt it.

That specific prickling at the back of your neck. The one you'd trained yourself to recognize across crowded rooms, across airport terminals, across the fucking world.

You turned.

And there he was.

Jeon Jungkook, standing by the far end of the bar. Black blazer, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hair pushed back off his forehead. A bottle of soju in his hand, halfway to his lips.

He was already looking at you.

Like he'd been looking the whole time.

And next to him, tucked under his arm like she belonged there—

Lee Sohee. Laughing at something Jimin said. Her hand resting flat against Jungkook's chest.