Accidental Roomates

Chapter 1: The Mix-Up

You were never the type to take risks. Your friends used to tease you about it—how you always had backup plans and contingency schedules and even a Plan Z for emergencies that never happened. But moving to Seoul for your dream internship meant stepping way outside your comfort zone. It was a chance you couldn’t pass up, even if it meant diving into the unknown.

The job offer came quicker than expected. After weeks of refreshing your inbox and clinging to your phone like a lifeline, you finally received the email—“Congratulations, we’re excited to have you on board!” You were thrilled… until the reality of finding housing in one of the most competitive cities in Asia hit you like a cold slap in the face.

Scrolling through apartment listings became your new part-time job. Between tiny one-room studios with no windows and suspiciously cheap places miles from the city, nothing felt quite right. That is, until you stumbled upon a listing with a shockingly decent price, good location, and even a short commute to your new job. The landlord had mentioned that someone else already lived there, but the place was “clean, quiet, and perfect for a working student.”

You didn’t hesitate. After a brief video call with the landlord, a quick skim of the digital lease, and a deposit that made your bank account cry, you were in. You were moving into a shared apartment—and you were finally doing something bold for once.

The day you arrived, the air felt heavy with anticipation. You stepped out of the taxi with two suitcases, a duffel bag, and a backpack slung over your shoulder. The building looked surprisingly modern, with a small convenience store just a few steps away and a cozy little bakery on the corner. You reminded yourself to check it out later.

After fumbling with the keypad lock, you finally stepped into the apartment. It was even nicer than the pictures: minimalist decor, a clean open layout, and that faint scent of fabric softener lingering in the air. You could hear music coming from one of the rooms—muffled, like someone was playing something on a speaker.

“Guess the roommate’s home,” you muttered, dragging your suitcase across the floor. You hadn’t even taken off your shoes when a door creaked open down the hallway.

Out walked a guy wearing grey sweatpants, a baggy black hoodie, and a dazed expression. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d just rolled out of bed—or maybe he had just woken up. He blinked at you a few times, clearly confused, then stopped mid-step.

“Uh… who are you?” he asked slowly, voice low and groggy.

You froze. Your hand clutched the handle of your suitcase, and for a moment, you wondered if you had walked into the wrong apartment.

“I… I’m Y/N,” you replied cautiously. “I just moved in. I signed the lease last week.”

He stared at you. His eyes widened ever so slightly, then darted toward your luggage, then back to your face. “Wait,” he said, clearly still half-asleep. “You’re living here?”

You nodded, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. “Yeah, I have the email confirmation and everything. See?” You held up the screen with the lease and landlord’s signature.

He stepped closer, glancing at it briefly before pulling out his own phone and furiously typing something. You could hear a string of soft curses under his breath.

“They said I’d be living alone,” he muttered. “This is definitely a mistake.”

You tilted your head, still unsure what to do. The situation was quickly shifting from awkward to downright surreal. And then it hit you. You recognized him—not just the face, but the voice, too. You’d seen him in music videos and fan edits, heard his name screamed at concerts and whispered during your friends’ late-night fangirling sessions.

“Wait… you’re—you’re Lee Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening in shock.

He gave you a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I guess that makes this even weirder, huh?”

Weirder was an understatement. You had just unknowingly moved in with a K-pop idol. And not just any idol—Heeseung of ENHYPEN, the all-rounder, the fan favorite, the one with the soulful vocals and devastatingly charming smile. He wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and his hoodie looked like it had been through one too many laundry cycles, but he still managed to look annoyingly good.

Heeseung sighed, his shoulders dropping as he looked between you and your luggage. “Okay… this must be a management mistake. They probably listed the place as available without telling me.”

You stood there awkwardly, unsure if you were supposed to offer to leave, or if you should call the landlord, or maybe just run.

“I mean…” he started again, rubbing his temples. “It’s not your fault. You signed the lease. If you have proof, and you’re paying rent, you have every right to be here.”

You nodded slowly. “So… what do we do?”

He looked at you for a long moment, then let out a long breath. “Well, unless we want to go through a whole lot of complicated paperwork and delays, I guess…” He paused. “We’re roommates now.”

You stood in the living room, still gripping your suitcase like a lifeline. It was strange—bizarre, even. Of all the people you could end up sharing an apartment with, it had to be a literal celebrity. You didn’t know whether to feel lucky or cursed. Heeseung, on the other hand, looked like he was trying not to panic.

“I should probably call my manager,” he muttered, disappearing into his room.

You used that moment to finally take off your shoes and quietly explore the apartment. The kitchen was surprisingly well-stocked—though most of it looked untouched. There were instant noodles in the cabinet and protein bars stacked neatly in rows. The living room had a plush grey couch, a low table, and a TV mounted on the wall. The vibe was minimalist but cozy.

Heeseung returned ten minutes later, phone in hand. “So, turns out,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “someone on the company’s admin team messed up. They had submitted the wrong unit number for my housing application. Technically, this lease is under a third-party agency that owns a bunch of shared apartments.”

“So this was supposed to go to… someone else?”

“Yeah. But your lease is legit. And the company doesn’t want bad press by kicking someone out over a housing mistake.” He looked apologetic, though slightly amused. “So they said I should just ‘be mature and deal with it.’”

You snorted. “Well, guess we’re stuck together.”

“Guess so.”

You wheeled your suitcases into the smaller of the two rooms—the one the landlord told you would be yours. It wasn’t big, but it had enough space for a twin bed, a desk, and a standing wardrobe. The view was decent, and the walls were painted a calming off-white. You unpacked slowly, still wrapping your head around the situation.

Later that evening, you met again in the kitchen while trying to figure out how to use the rice cooker. Heeseung was leaning against the counter, sipping from a carton of banana milk and watching you struggle.

“You’ve never used one before?” he asked.

“I always used a pot at home. My mom said rice cookers were cheating.”

He laughed—a soft, surprisingly warm sound. “Cheating is underrated.”

You both ended up eating instant ramen that night, sitting across from each other at the dining table like two strangers stuck in a sitcom. Heeseung seemed polite, quiet, but a little guarded. You couldn’t blame him. He probably wasn’t used to sharing his personal space with someone outside of his group or staff.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “are there… like… fans outside the building? Should I expect people trying to sneak in for selfies?”

He chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nah, this place is low-profile. Plus, my schedule is unpredictable. Fans wouldn’t camp here unless they werereallycommitted.”

You nodded, though a part of you still worried. What if your friends found out? What ifanyonefound out? Would they believe you?

You didn’t say much more that night. You washed your dishes while he dried them. After a brief, awkward goodnight, you both retreated to your rooms.

Once behind your closed door, you collapsed on your bed and stared at the ceiling.

Rooming with a K-pop idol wasn’t on your 5-year plan. Not even on youraccidental life plot twistlist. But now it was your reality.

And as much as you told yourself you’d just be roommates, nothing more—deep down, you had a feeling this was the start of somethingveryunexpected.