Chapter 1 - Burn the Apology
The first thing Nova registered was the light.
Not Seoul’s gray, suffocating sky but the sharp, golden wash of California sun bleeding through wide windows. She blinked, her body heavy, her mouth dry, her mind clawing through fog.
She was in a bed — not hers, not Haesoo’s, not the suffocating cage she had learned to survive in. The sheets were crisp, the faint scent of ocean air drifting in through the vents. HQ.
California.
Nova sat up slowly, the motion stiff, her muscles still trembling from the collapse she half-remembered. Her hand went instinctively to her nose, half-expecting the copper sting of blood, but it was clean.
The door creaked open. Asher leaned against the frame, his expression tired but calm. “Welcome back.”
Behind him, Poppy pushed past, dropping her bag onto the floor with a thud and rushing to Nova’s side. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she muttered, her voice sharp but her eyes glassy with relief.
Nova looked between them, her chest tightening. “You brought me back.”
Asher’s voice was steady. “Yeah. Seoul was killing you. So I took you where you could breathe.”
Nova glanced toward the window again, the bright horizon stretching wide and endless. Freedom. The word sat bitter-sweet on her tongue.
Her throat felt tight, voice barely a whisper. “Thank you. I was suffocating there.”
His jaw softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry I made you go back at all.” He nodded toward the hall. “I brought Poppy too. She’s in her room.”
Nova exhaled slowly. Relief, real and raw, spread through her chest for the first time in weeks.
Weeks passed.
And in that stretch of days, Nova felt herself come back piece by piece. Not whole. Not healed. But present.
Some days she and Poppy disappeared on missions together, adrenaline shaking the dust off her veins. Other days, she worked in HQ with Asher, quiet but steady. And some nights, when there was nothing pressing, she and Poppy just sprawled on the couch, laughing too loud, eating takeout, the kind of normal that Seoul had stolen from her.
For the first time in a long time, Nova wasn’t just surviving. She was living.
The house was too quiet.
Every echo in the halls pressed harder on Haesoo’s chest the empty spot on the vanity where her perfume bottles used to be, the closet door she hadn’t touched in weeks. The silence ticked alongside the clock on the wall, steady and merciless.
He sat on the edge of their bed, phone in hand. His thumb hovered. One second. Two. Then he pressed call.
It rang. Once. Twice.
“Asher,” he breathed when the line clicked, his voice already raw. “How’s Nova?”
A pause. The kind of silence that told him the truth before the words came.
“She’s happy,” Asher said at last, low and certain. “She’s back to herself.”
The words hollowed Haesoo out. He stared at the faint imprint on the mattress where she used to curl up, the pillows still waiting for her.
“She’s…” his voice cracked. “…she’s not coming back, is she?”
Asher’s reply cut through like a blade, firm but not unkind.
“If you’re calling to ask if she’s coming back, don’t. I’m not asking her that. I’m not putting that pressure on her again.”
Haesoo’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles blanched.
“She deserves to breathe,” Asher added, softer now. “And for the first time in a long time, she finally is.”
Haesoo shut his eyes, dragging his hand over his face as if he could scrape away the ache. But the words stuck, heavier than the silence that followed.
Haesoo swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady though it scraped on the way out.
“…Thank you, Asher.”
He ended the call before the silence could stretch again, the screen going dark in his hand. For a long moment he sat there, phone heavy in his grip, the weight of it no lighter than the words he’d just heard.
The house seemed to exhale around him the empty vanity, the closed closet, the faint impression on the mattress beside him. Every corner reminded him of her absence.
Haesoo lowered the phone to his lap and bowed his head, his breath shuddering. He whispered into the quiet, as if she could still hear him.
“Breathe all you want, Nova. Just… don’t forget me.”
The next morning, Haesoo dragged himself to KSJ Entertainment. The familiar halls felt heavier now, every step echoing with the reminder that Nova wasn’t there.
Inside the conference room, the members sat in silence as the CEO spoke, his tone clipped but weary.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “This comeback didn’t do well. Without Nova guiding it… without her direction… it fell apart. We don’t know what else to do.”
The words cut through the room like a blade. For a long moment, no one moved. Then Minjae leaned forward, his voice low but steady.
“We all knew it would be hard without her,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
Dongmin rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a humorless laugh. “She used to walk in and tear us apart for the smallest mistake. Annoyed the hell out of me. But… it kept us sharp. Without her, it feels like we’re just… coasting.”
Jisung, usually the quietest, finally lifted his gaze from the table. “She saw things before we did. She knew what would work. What wouldn’t. It’s like” he faltered, searching for the right words, “it’s like we’ve been practicing blind.”
Eunwoo nodded, his tone softer. “She never let us slack. Even when we hated her for it… she made us better.”
Haesoo’s throat tightened as each word piled on, the truth pressing down heavier than before. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Because they were all saying what he already knew too well.
Across the table, the CEO exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the problem. She’s not here. And unless something changes, I don’t know if this group has another chance.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Haesoo clenched his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to defend her, to say we can do it without her. But the words wouldn’t come. Because somewhere deep down, he wasn’t sure they could.
The room was already heavy when the CEO’s voice cut through again, sharper this time.
“You either go and talk to her,” he said, scanning each of their faces, “or we terminate your contracts. I’m not sugarcoating it. Your solo promotions didn’t do well without Nova. And now this comeback? The same. We poured everything into it, and the response was flat.”
The members stiffened, a ripple of unease moving through the table.
“You went to get Haesoo back,” the CEO continued, his gaze flicking toward him. “But Haesoo was never the problem. The person who holds this group together is Nova. Always has been.”
Taeyul’s jaw tightened. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the CEO leaned forward.
“Taeyul, your solo debut succeeded because Nova designed every piece of it from the concept to the staging. Without her, none of it would have worked. That’s the truth.”
The room fell silent. No one could deny it.
Dongmin exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “So what you’re saying is… we’re nothing without her.”
“Not nothing,” the CEO replied, voice firm. “But not enough. And if you want this group to last, you better decide. Either swallow your pride and talk to her… or this ends here.”
Haesoo sat frozen, the weight of the words pressing against his chest. Everyone’s eyes flickered toward him, but he couldn’t lift his head. Because deep down, he knew the CEO wasn’t wrong.
The silence in the room was broken by the CEO’s voice, cold and direct.
“Nova can disappear for months,” he said, tapping the table for emphasis, “and then drop a single song — and it’ll top the charts. Do you understand what that means? She doesn’t even need to promote it. She has influence. She has vision. She doesn’t need anyone to hold her up.”
The members shifted uneasily, but before anyone could speak, the CEO’s phone lit up on the table. He glanced at it, then turned the screen toward them.
“See?” His tone was almost mocking. “She just dropped something. Right now. No warning, no teasers. And it’s already soaring through the charts.”
The members leaned forward, eyes widening as the numbers refreshed in real time. Nova’s name blazed across the screen, climbing faster with every second.
Dongmin let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “She didn’t even tell us.”
Jisung pressed his lips together, the weight of it written in his silence.
Taeyul laughed under his breath, but there was no humor in it. “Of course she didn’t. She doesn’t need us.”
The CEO leaned back, watching them absorb the truth. “That’s the difference. She makes the world move around her. You… you’re waiting for the world to notice.”
Haesoo’s throat felt tight as he stared at her name flashing on the screen. He couldn’t tell if it was pride or heartbreak twisting in his chest maybe both.
The CEO tapped his phone, and the conference room speakers roared to life with a heavy bassline that rattled the table. Dark synths bled into stomping drums, tribal and merciless.
“Title’s Burn the Apology,” the CEO said flatly. “Listen.”
Nova’s voice came in low and sharp, slicing through the beat:
Said I came out of nowhere
No roots, no right to rise
But I was raised in silence
With sharp hands and colder eyes
The members stilled. Her tone wasn’t pleading it was daring. By the time the verse cut into the pre-chorus, the air in the room had shifted:
Let them say I’m poison
Let them pray I fall
But every door they locked
Just made me build new walls
Eunwoo leaned back slowly, arms crossed. “She doesn’t even sound human. It’s like she’s… untouchable.”
Then the chorus detonated, Nova’s voice dripping with dark triumph:
I did something bad
And I’d do it again
Burned your rules, kissed your crown,
Then melted it thin
You think you’re the power?
Please I’ve seen worse men
I don’t beg for mercy
I burn the apology instead
Dongmin let out a stunned laugh, dragging a hand over his face. “She just buried half the industry with that line.”
Jisung’s pen tapped against the table, restless. “It doesn’t even sound like a song. It sounds like like a manifesto.”
The second verse hit harder, her voice sharpened like a blade drawn slow:
You wanted a doll
I gave you a blade
Smiling sweet while I rewrote
Every game you played
I watched you spin your gold lies
While I built my empire
You handed me a leash
I turned it into fire
Minjae’s head dipped, his voice low. “She doesn’t need us. She never did. She’s building something bigger than we can even see.”
By the bridge, the song tightened into a vicious snarl:
Don’t confuse silence with shame
I was just loading my aim
You taught me war
Now say my name
And choke on what you claimed
Taeyul exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She’s not even competing with idols anymore. She’s tearing down the entire system.”
Then came the final chorus, layered with growling harmonies that felt like thunder:
I did something bad
And it tasted right
I kissed revenge
And slept fine that night
You want redemption?
Try someone who bends
I don’t beg for mercy
I burn the apology
Again and again
The outro faded with one last strike, her voice cold and merciless:
Say what you want
You were never the threat
I don’t lose sleep
I just burn the apology instead
Silence. Deafening after the storm.
The CEO glanced around the table, his expression unreadable. “That’s what influence looks like. She disappears for months, drops this with no warning, and the world bends around her. Meanwhile, your solos flop. Your comeback sinks. Tell me again who holds this group together.”
No one spoke. All eyes slid to Haesoo, but he didn’t move. His fists were clenched tight in his lap, the lyrics still clawing through his chest, leaving him hollow and burning all at once.
The last echo of Nova’s voice faded, leaving only the hum of the speakers. For a moment, no one dared breathe.
Then the CEO picked up his phone again, his thumb moving across the screen. His eyes scanned the display, and when he spoke, his voice was cool and cutting.
“It’s already number one.” He looked up, letting the words sink in. “On every major chart. Real-time. No teasers, no promotions. She just dropped it, and the world snapped to attention.”
The members shifted uneasily, their silence louder than any protest.
“Do you understand now?” the CEO pressed. “This is what influence looks like. She doesn’t chase the industry the industry chases her.” He tapped his phone once against the table for emphasis. “While you’re here struggling, she’s rewriting the game in a single night.”
Taeyul exhaled a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “She doesn’t even try. She just is.”
Dongmin muttered under his breath, “She’s untouchable…”
Haesoo’s throat closed around the ache in his chest. Nova’s voice still rang in his head I don’t beg for mercy, I burn the apology instead now branded against him, undeniable.
The silence lingered until the CEO’s phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, then raised a brow.
“Oh, she dropped merch too,” he muttered, almost amused. He scrolled quickly, tilting the screen so the members could see. A sleek line of shirts and hoodies, simple but stamped with bold lettering: Burn the Apology.
“I should grab one for my daughter,” he said, half to himself as he clicked into the shop. “She’s obsessed with Nova.”
The screen refreshed, and his lips parted in disbelief.
“…Already sold out.”
He leaned back in his chair, laughing under his breath not with humor, but with disbelief. “Do you get it now? She moves the world with a single release. Music, merch, doesn’t matter. She’s a phenomenon. And you…” His gaze swept across the members. “…you can’t even move the needle without her.”
The members sat frozen. The weight of his words hung like chains around their necks.
Haesoo stared at the phone, at Nova’s name glowing across every feed. His chest ached with something he couldn’t name pride tangled with pain. She was soaring higher than ever, and he had never felt smaller.
The room was suffocating in silence until the CEO shoved his phone down on the table with a sharp thud.
“Enough,” he said, his tone hard. “Stop rehearsing. Stop pretending you can fix this without her. It’s a waste of time.”
The members stiffened, eyes snapping toward him.
“You want this group to survive?” His gaze swept over each of them, sharp and unforgiving. “Then go look for her. I don’t care where she is Seoul, California, Mars for all I know. Find her. Talk to her. Do whatever it takes.”
Taeyul frowned. “And if she doesn’t want to see us?”
The CEO’s jaw tightened. “Then you convince her. You remind her why she built this group in the first place. Because without Nova, you’re done.”
He leaned back in his chair, his voice dropping to a cold finality. “I’ll pay for the flights. All of them. But if you come back empty-handed…” His pause was heavy, deliberate. “…then we’ll start drawing up termination papers.”
The weight of his words settled like stone. No one moved.
Haesoo sat frozen, every muscle coiled tight. The thought of seeing her again of standing in front of her after everything made his chest clench. But the thought of losing her entirely, of losing the group she held together with her fire, was worse.
The weight of the CEO’s ultimatum pressed down until Minjae finally broke the silence.
“We don’t have anything to lose,” he said quietly, glancing around at the others. His calm voice carried more weight than a shout. “If this is the only way to keep the group alive… then we go.”
Dongmin leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard through his nose. “Pack our bags, then. I’d rather chase her than sit here waiting for the axe to fall.”
Taeyul gave a humorless laugh. “She’s going to kill us when she sees us. But honestly? I’d rather deal with her temper than with no career at all.”
Jisung’s fingers tightened around his pen before he dropped it on the table. “She won’t listen. But… we have to try.”
Eunwoo nodded, resolute now. “Then it’s decided. We go together.”
The CEO leaned back, watching their faces shift from defeat to determination. “Good. I’ll have your flights booked by tonight. Don’t come back without her.”
Haesoo sat still, his chest burning. The others were already rising from their seats, the scrape of chairs loud in the silence. His heart pounded with a mix of dread and hope. She didn’t want to be found. But maybe just maybe she needed to be.
The flight was quiet, heavy with the weight of what they were about to do. No one cracked jokes, no one scrolled their phones for distraction. Even Dongmin, usually restless, sat staring out the window with his headphones silent around his neck. Haesoo barely moved, his hands folded tightly in his lap, eyes fixed on the clouds below.
Hours later, California air pressed warm against their skin as they stepped off the plane. The black SUV waiting for them drove in silence through winding coastal roads, until the city faded and glass gates came into view.
Nova’s private estate rose like something out of another world sleek architecture tucked behind high walls, palm trees swaying against a blue sky. The driver stopped at the gates, which slid open without a word, as though they’d already been expected.
The car pulled up the long driveway, stopping before a wide front door framed in white stone. None of the members moved at first. Then Minjae stepped forward, knocking firmly.
The sound echoed in the stillness.
A moment later, the door cracked open. A girl with dark hair and sharp eyes peeked out Poppy. She blinked at the seven of them standing awkwardly on the porch, then pulled the door open wider.
“Umm…” She tilted her head, clearly caught off guard. “Nova?”
Her voice carried back into the house. The name hung in the air like a warning bell, the moment stretching tight as the members exchanged tense glances.
Haesoo’s heart was pounding so hard it felt like the walls might hear it.
“Nova?” Poppy called again, turning her head toward the staircase.
Footsteps followed light, unhurried, the kind that carried no urgency because Nova Reyes never rushed for anyone.
And then she appeared.
Her hair was loose around her shoulders, sunlight from the high windows catching the strands. She wore a pale silk blouse tucked carelessly into tailored shorts, bare feet silent against the marble floor. For a second, her expression softened at the sight of Poppy relaxed, almost content.
But then her gaze shifted to the doorway.
Seven familiar figures stood framed in the California sun.
Her smile faltered. Then it dropped completely.
The air seemed to thicken as Nova’s eyes hardened, sweeping over each of them before finally landing on Haesoo. His chest clenched under the weight of her stare so distant now, so unreadable.
Silence stretched. Poppy glanced between them, unsure, before stepping back as if to remove herself from the line of fire.
Nova didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The message was clear in the cold stillness that settled around her.
They had found her but whether she would let them stay was another question entirely.
Nova’s eyes lingered on them a moment longer before she stepped aside, her voice cool and unhurried.
“Come in.”
The members shuffled in quietly, their footsteps hesitant against the polished floor. The estate’s interior was sleek and cold in its perfection glass, marble, and sunlight a space that mirrored Nova’s control. She didn’t wait for them, already moving toward the living room.
She sank into the wide couch, one leg folding elegantly beneath her, her arm draped over the backrest like a queen watching trespassers. Her gaze swept across the seven of them, unimpressed, almost bored.
“Let me guess,” she said, her tone flat but sharp enough to cut. “Your careers are shitty. And you’re about to disband.”
The words landed like a slap.
Dongmin flinched. Jisung lowered his eyes. Even Taeyul, usually quick with a retort, pressed his lips together and said nothing.
Haesoo’s chest tightened. He wanted to speak, but his throat felt locked. All he could do was stare at her, the weight of her words echoing louder than the silence that followed.
Nova leaned back against the cushions, her expression unreadable. “So. Which one of you is going to beg first?”
The silence cracked when Minjae, steady as always, took a small step forward. His voice was calm, though his shoulders were tense.
“We’re not here to beg,” he said carefully. “We came because… the truth is, we can’t do this without you.”
Nova tilted her head, the faintest curl of amusement tugging at her lip. “At least you’re honest.”
Dongmin ran a hand through his hair, blurting out, “It’s true, no matter how much it sucks to admit. Without you, rehearsals feel empty. Nothing clicks. We’re not a group we’re just guys dancing in sync, hoping it looks good enough.”
Taeyul sighed, arms crossing tight over his chest. “The CEO didn’t mince words. The comeback flopped. The solos tanked. Mine was the only one that worked, and that’s because you designed it. He made it very clear we either bring you back or we’re finished.”
Eunwoo added quietly, “We didn’t want to come here like this. But… we’d rather face your anger than sit there and watch everything we worked for collapse.”
Jisung, who hadn’t lifted his eyes since walking in, finally spoke, his voice low but raw. “It’s not just about the group. It’s about you. You built us. You held us together. And now we’re falling apart without you.”
Their words hung heavy in the air, each confession piling into the space between them and the girl who never needed anyone.
Nova leaned back further into the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Her expression didn’t soften if anything, her eyes gleamed sharper.
“Well,” she said at last, voice cool and cutting. “At least you know where you stand.”
Nova’s gaze slid from one member to the next, taking in their tense shoulders, their lowered eyes, their desperate honesty. She let the silence stretch until it hurt before finally speaking, her tone smooth, deliberate.
“Well,” she said, leaning back into the cushions, “I’m not going back to Seoul anytime soon.”
The words hit like a stone tossed into still water. None of them spoke, but she saw the flickers of hope dim in their faces.
“Poppy just won Agent of the Year,” Nova continued, gesturing lazily toward the girl lingering near the doorway. Poppy flushed faintly but said nothing. “And together? We’re making my real money. Not pocket change from your flopped comeback. Not scraps from a CEO who panics every time I breathe. Real money. Power. Freedom.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, the sharp glint returning. “Why would I give that up… to hold your hands through rehearsals again?”
The words dropped like fire, burning away whatever excuses they might have clung to.
Dongmin’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Taeyul looked down at the floor, his smirk gone. Minjae simply breathed out slow, as if he’d expected nothing less.
Haesoo’s chest ached. He had known she wouldn’t make this easy but hearing her say it out loud, hearing how far she’d pulled herself from them, felt like being cut open all over again.
Nova shifted forward on the couch, her elbows resting lightly on her knees, her eyes fixed on them with razor clarity.
“I bought a building. I founded your group. I gave you everything you needed,” she said, each word sharp, deliberate. “By now, you should be able to stand by yourselves.”
The members froze, her voice cutting through their excuses before they could form them.
She leaned back again, her tone almost casual, but the edge in her gaze never softened. “Luzia’s doing it. They’ve been standing on their own just fine. New group. Younger. Less experience. And yet they don’t need me breathing down their necks to succeed.”
Her words landed heavy, the comparison stinging sharper than any insult.
Dongmin winced, his hands curling into fists. “That’s not fair,” he muttered under his breath, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
Jisung pressed his lips together, silent.
Eunwoo’s brows furrowed, his voice careful, quiet. “We’re not Luzia. We’re… us. We’re the ones you built.”
Nova’s gaze flicked toward him not cruel, but cold, as if she were daring him to find a better argument.
Haesoo’s chest clenched, the ache twisting deeper. She was right. She had given them everything and now she was showing them how easily she could take it all away.
Nova exhaled slowly, her tone turning flat, almost dismissive.
“Look,” she said, her gaze steady on them, “I’m not your mentor. I’m Poppy’s mentor. That’s where my focus is.”
Poppy straightened slightly near the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her, caught between pride and discomfort.
“You guys?” Nova’s eyes swept over the seven of them, her voice sharp but calm. “You’re all older than me. Every single one of you. You should be able to hold your own without me dragging you through it.”
The words stung, biting deeper than the blunt honesty she’d given before.
Dongmin’s jaw worked as if he wanted to argue, but nothing came out. Jisung shifted uncomfortably, his head dropping lower. Minjae stayed still, absorbing the hit with quiet resignation.
Taeyul finally broke the silence, his voice low. “Older doesn’t mean stronger. Older doesn’t mean better.” He lifted his eyes to hers, defiant but not cruel. “You’ve always been the strongest one in the room, Nova. You know it. We know it.”
Her expression didn’t waver, but something flickered behind her eyes a crack, brief and dangerous.
Nova’s laugh was low, humorless, as she leaned back against the couch.
“So let me get this straight,” she said, her tone cool but cutting. “You want me to put more work on my plate because a group of grown men can’t do their jobs properly?”
The line dropped like ice water.
Dongmin flinched, the tips of his ears going red. “That’s not what we”
But Nova cut him off with a raised hand, her gaze unblinking.
“No. That’s exactly what this is.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You want me to step back into the fire and fight battles that aren’t mine anymore. While I’m already running my own projects. While I’m building something bigger than all of this.”
Silence swallowed the room. The members stood frozen, the sting of her words pressing down heavier than the California heat bleeding through the windows.
Finally, Minjae’s steady voice broke through, quiet but resolute. “We’re not asking you to carry us. We’re asking you not to leave us behind.”
Nova’s expression didn’t soften, but her fingers tightened ever so slightly against the armrest a tell she would never admit to.
Nova let out a sharp breath, half a laugh, half a scoff.
“Do you want me to hold your hand too?” Her eyes swept across the seven of them, steady and merciless. “Because that’s what this sounds like. You want me to babysit. Again.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and humiliating. None of them moved, though Haesoo felt the sting like she’d aimed it square at him.
“I’m not going back to Seoul,” Nova said, her voice flat, final. “Not for you. Not for the company. Not for anyone.”
Poppy shifted slightly in the doorway, uneasy but silent. The members stood frozen, the reality of her dismissal settling hard in their chests.
Nova leaned forward, her tone shifting from mocking to matter-of-fact, like she was delivering instructions instead of an argument.
“You want help?” she said, her eyes cutting through them one by one. “Then move here. Rent your own place. I’ll get you a studio. You’ll rehearse there, record there, and when it’s time, you can fly back to Korea to promote the songs.”
The members stiffened, exchanging glances.
“But me?” Nova’s voice hardened, final. “I’m not going to Korea. That part of the deal is dead. If you want me involved, it happens on my terms. Here.”
Taeyul let out a slow, incredulous laugh. “You’re serious.”
Nova arched a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
Dongmin muttered under his breath, “She’s basically exiling us.”
“No,” Minjae corrected quietly, his tone steady, resigned. “She’s giving us a chance. Just not the one we thought we’d get.”
Nova leaned back again, her expression unreadable. “Exactly. You want me back in your corner, you make the move. Otherwise…” She flicked her hand dismissively. “…you’re on your own.”
Her words fell like stone. The choice was theirs, but the control was still hers.
Nova’s gaze sharpened, her voice low but laced with fire.
“I lived five years in Korea to keep your group alive,” she said, each word landing like a strike. “Five years of my life, poured into making sure you debuted, making sure you stayed standing when the company was ready to fold.”
The members shifted under the weight of her words, guilt pulling their shoulders low.
“And now what?” She leaned forward, eyes flashing. “I can’t decide where to live? I can’t decide when I’ve had enough?”
Silence swallowed the room. Dongmin looked down, chewing his lip. Jisung’s knuckles tightened against his sides. Even Minjae, who always had something steady to offer, had no answer.
Nova sat back, her voice cooling again. “I already gave you everything. If that wasn’t enough, then nothing ever will be.”
Her words hung between them, sharp and final daring them to argue, daring them to ask for more.
Nova’s eyes swept over them one last time, sharp and unyielding.
“That is my last word,” she said, her tone flat and absolute. “Take it or leave it.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. The members shifted uneasily, but none of them spoke not Dongmin with his restless energy, not Taeyul with his sharp tongue, not even Minjae with his steady reason.
Her words had cut off every path but two, and the choice was theirs to make.
Poppy lingered at the edge of the room, her gaze darting between Nova and the seven men who looked like they’d been hollowed out.
Haesoo felt the finality settle like stone in his chest. Her voice echoed in his head, colder than anything she’d said before. Take it or leave it.
There was no compromise. No middle ground.
Just Nova and her line in the sand.
The silence stretched, thick enough to choke.
Dongmin was the first to break, throwing his hands up with a sharp exhale. “We don’t really have a choice, do we? If it’s here or nothing… then it’s here.”
Taeyul let out a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. We flew halfway across the world just to be told to uproot everything. But fine. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” His jaw tightened. “Because I’m not going down without a fight.”
Jisung stayed quiet, his eyes fixed on the floor, but the tension in his shoulders spoke louder than words. Finally, he muttered, “I’ll follow. We came this far.”
Eunwoo’s voice came steady, though quieter than usual. “I don’t care where we rehearse, as long as we’re together. So… I’m in.”
Minjae leaned back slightly, folding his arms. He looked at Nova, unflinching. “If this is your last word, then we’ll take it. Not because we like it but because you’re right. Without you, we’re finished.”
All eyes slowly turned toward Haesoo. He hadn’t moved since she delivered the ultimatum. His chest ached, his hands curled tight in his lap. Every part of him wanted to fight her words, to push back but all that came out was a low, strained whisper.
“…Then we stay.”
Nova didn’t smile. She didn’t soften. She only leaned back against the couch, her expression unreadable, as if she had expected nothing less.
Nova finally shifted, reclining into the cushions with the air of someone delivering orders, not offers.
“You can stay here for a couple of days,” she said evenly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Asher will help you find a place. Somewhere nearby. Somewhere that’s yours, not mine.”
The members let out a collective breath, relief mixed with unease.
Then her gaze flicked to Haesoo, sharp as a blade.
“You too,” she said, voice cooler now. “Get your own place.”
Haesoo froze, her words landing heavier than any of the others. For the briefest moment, his throat worked like he might speak ask her why, remind her of everything they had shared, everything they still were. But the warning in her eyes told him not to.
His chest burned, but he nodded once, silent.
Nova leaned back, dismissing them with the same ease she had welcomed them in. “That’s as far as my generosity goes.”
Nova shifted her attention away from the members and turned toward Poppy, her tone softening only slightly.
“Poppy,” she said, “you’ll sleep with me for now. You’ll get your room back when they leave.”
Poppy blinked, caught off guard for a second, then nodded quickly. “Okay.” A faint smile tugged at her lips, but she kept her tone practical. “I’ll just move only the essentials.”
She glanced toward the hall, already planning what to gather, as though it were second nature to adjust to Nova without complaint.
The members watched the exchange in silence. The ease between Nova and Poppy was unmistakable unspoken understanding, simple obedience, trust. It made the distance between themselves and Nova feel even wider.
Haesoo’s chest tightened as he watched Poppy head upstairs, already shifting her life without hesitation. She hadn’t questioned Nova. She hadn’t pushed back. She had simply said okay.
And Haesoo realized that’s what Nova wanted from all of them. Unquestioning compliance.
The sound of the front door opening cut through the silence. A moment later, Asher stepped inside, keys still in hand, his expression cool until his eyes fell on the seven figures standing awkwardly in the living room.
“Really?” he said, his voice laced with disbelief. His gaze slid to Nova, one brow arched. “You let them in?”
Nova didn’t flinch, lounging on the couch as if the house belonged solely to her. “They came to beg,” she replied dryly. “So help them find a place to live. All of them.”
Asher let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Of course they did.”
Nova’s tone shifted into clipped instructions, her eyes never leaving him. “Book a studio for them to rehearse. Line up a vocal coach, a choreographer. And a manager someone reliable to drive them around. I don’t want excuses when it’s time for results.”
The members glanced at one another, a mix of relief and unease flickering across their faces.
Asher slipped his hands into his pockets, regarding them with the same flat stare he always reserved for people who tested his patience. “So now I’m babysitting seven of you?”
Nova’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. “Consider it charity work.”
Asher rolled his eyes but nodded once, already pulling out his phone. “Fine. I’ll handle it.”
The room shifted again not warmth, not comfort, but something structured, like the ground had stopped shaking beneath their feet.
For the first time since boarding the plane, the members exhaled.
The front door opened again, and Haesoo’s stomach dropped the moment he heard the voice.
“Oh,” Jace drawled as he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately finding Haesoo before sweeping over the others. A smirk curved across his mouth. “So… you’re back with him?”
Haesoo’s jaw tightened. He knew that voice, knew that face — too well. The same easy arrogance, the same way he carried himself like he’d already won the room. He and Jace had crossed paths before, and Haesoo hadn’t forgotten the way Nova used to look at him like he was untouchable.
Before Haesoo could speak, Nova’s reply cut through, cool and immediate.
“No.”
The single word hit Haesoo harder than Jace’s smirk.
Jace stepped further in, moving with relaxed confidence, as if the estate belonged to him. He dropped into a chair by the couch, leaning back with one arm draped over the side, perfectly at ease. His gaze flicked back to Haesoo, lingering just long enough to sting, before he turned to the others.
“Guess I should introduce myself,” he said smoothly. “Jace.”
The members exchanged uneasy glances, clearly sensing the history in the room but not daring to ask.
Nova didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. The weight in the air spoke for itself Jace wasn’t just some visitor. He was the boy Nova had once wanted, the name Haesoo had hoped never to hear again.
Haesoo’s chest burned. He forced his expression neutral, but inside, the jealousy twisted hot and sharp. He had met Jace before. He knew exactly who he was. And he hated that Nova had ever looked at him the way she once did.
Jace leaned back in the chair, his smirk never fading. “I came to pick you up for dinner,” he said casually, as if seven strangers weren’t watching.
Nova didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. We can go.”
The words dropped into Haesoo’s chest like lead. He didn’t move, but every muscle inside him went rigid.
Jace turned his head toward the hallway, raising his voice slightly. “Poppy. Dinner.”
Quick footsteps followed, and then Poppy appeared, her face brightening when she saw him. She rushed over, practically launching herself into his arms.
“Jace!” she laughed, hugging him tightly.
He chuckled, steadying her with ease. “There you are.”
The members exchanged glances, unsettled by how natural it looked how comfortable Nova and Poppy seemed with him, as though Jace had long been woven into their world.
Nova watched the scene with calm indifference, her arms crossed, waiting like this was routine.
Haesoo’s chest burned hotter. He’d known Jace before, known what he meant to Nova once. And watching him here, embraced so easily, invited so casually it twisted the knife deeper.
Nova stood, smoothing the hem of her silk blouse like the conversation had ended on her terms because it had. She picked up her phone from the coffee table and slid it into her pocket, her gaze flicking briefly over the seven men still standing awkwardly in her living room.
“We’re leaving,” she said simply, turning toward Jace and Poppy. Then her eyes cut back to the group, sharp and cold. “There’s food in the fridge. Or order something. I don’t care.”
She paused, her voice dropping into a warning. “But if you touch any of my cars, you’re dead.”
The words cracked through the air, firm enough that no one doubted she meant them.
Dongmin blinked, opening his mouth like he wanted to joke, but Minjae’s hand on his arm stopped him. Jisung just stared at the floor, quiet. Taeyul muttered under his breath, “Of course.”
Haesoo didn’t move, his chest heavy, his eyes fixed on Nova. But she didn’t look back at him. She was already moving toward the door, Jace and Poppy falling into step at her sides, the three of them slipping seamlessly into a world the members clearly didn’t belong in.
The front door clicked shut behind them, leaving the silence of the estate pressing down heavier than before.
The silence in the estate lingered heavy until the front door opened again. Asher stepped inside, tossing his keys onto the console by the entryway. He scanned the room, noting the seven of them scattered awkwardly in the living room.
“Where’s Nova?” he asked, his tone casual, like he expected to see her lounging on the couch.
Minjae answered first, his voice flat. “She left. With Poppy… and Jace. Said they were going to dinner.”
Asher stilled for a moment, then let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Friday. I forgot.” He glanced at them, his expression unreadable. “They always go out on Fridays.”
The words landed heavier than he intended. To him, it was nothing more than fact. To the members, it was proof proof that they didn’t know her the way others did. Proof that while they scrambled to find her, to beg her back, Nova was already living a routine without them.
Dongmin shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “Always?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Asher didn’t answer. He just crossed the room, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter, leaving the members to sit in the weight of what they’d just heard.
Haesoo’s chest tightened. He had thought finding her would mean closing the distance between them. Instead, it felt like she was further away than ever.
Asher twisted the cap off his water bottle, taking a long drink before glancing back at the group. They still looked unsettled, like kids caught sneaking into a house that wasn’t theirs.
“Well,” he said, matter-of-fact, “I’m leaving again. I’ll look at places while I’m out. Maybe a house big enough for all of you to live together.”
The members glanced at each other, startled.
“A house?” Dongmin repeated, brows shooting up.
Asher shrugged. “What? You think Nova’s going to let you camp out here forever? She already told you this isn’t your place. Better to stick together under one roof easier to manage, easier to keep an eye on you.” He tipped the bottle back for another drink, his tone casual but clipped. “I’ll find something. Don’t worry.”
Minjae gave a short nod, relief softening his expression. “That… might actually work.”
Jisung muttered, almost to himself, “Feels like we’re trainees again.”
Asher’s eyes flicked over him but he didn’t bite. He pushed the bottle onto the counter and grabbed his keys. “Get some rest. Eat. Don’t touch Nova’s cars unless you want her to throw you into the ocean.”
With that, he headed for the door, leaving the weight of his words and the faint outline of a plan behind him.
Haesoo sat quietly, his chest tight. A house for all of them together. Close to Nova. But still… not with her.
The members sat in silence for a while after Asher left, the weight of everything still pressing heavy. Finally, Eunwoo broke it.
“Let’s order food.”
There were no objections. They scrolled through menus on their phones, settled on takeout, and ate together at the long dining table. No one said much, but when the food was gone, Minjae stood and began stacking the boxes. Without needing to be told, the others followed. They washed dishes, wiped down counters, and straightened the living room.
“She hates mess,” Taeyul muttered, tossing the last empty bottle into recycling.
“Then let’s not give her another reason to bite our heads off,” Dongmin replied, and for once, he sounded serious.
By the time the front door opened again, the house gleamed like no one had ever touched it.
Nova stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the marble but she wasn’t alone. Jace was draped over her back, his arm looped lazily around her shoulder. His head lolled slightly, eyes half-closed. Poppy trailed behind, carrying his jacket and shaking her head.
“I can’t believe they messed up and gave you alcoholic drinks,” Poppy said, exasperated. “You didn’t even notice?”
Jace gave a sleepy grin. “Didn’t notice. Just kept ordering. Tasted good.”
Nova adjusted his weight with ease, not straining even under him. Her eyes flicked briefly to the members, but she didn’t break stride. “You can sleep on the floor of my room,” she told him evenly. “Poppy’s already sleeping with me.”
The members froze as she guided him down the hall, disappearing into her private wing as if they weren’t standing there at all.
The silence that followed was sharp, uncomfortable.
Dongmin finally muttered, “Floor of her room. That guy has no shame.”
Haesoo said nothing. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as the image burned in his mind Nova carrying Jace like he belonged there.
A while later, footsteps sounded from down the hall. Nova and Poppy emerged, the door to her room closing softly behind them.
“I’ll go get it,” Poppy said quickly, holding out her hand for the keys. “You left your phone in Jace’s car.”
Nova didn’t argue, just passed her the spare fob and gave a short nod. Poppy hurried off toward the front door, leaving Nova alone in the kitchen.
She crossed to the fridge without a word, pulling it open and bending down slightly. The cool light spilled over her face as she reached for a can of Coke Zero, the silver-red tab cracking sharp in the quiet.
The members, who had been scattered in the living room, stilled at the sound. None of them dared speak.
Nova didn’t look at them. She just tipped the can back for a long drink, the hiss of carbonation filling the silence before she set it on the counter beside her.
Her expression was calm, unreadable like Jace slumped in her room, Poppy fetching her phone, and seven men lingering awkwardly in her estate were all just background noise she could take or leave.
Haesoo’s chest tightened. That Coke Zero something so small, so familiar made her feel closer, and yet she looked further away than ever.
Nova set her Coke Zero down on the counter and finally turned to the members, her gaze steady.
“Come on,” she said, her voice clipped. “I’ll show you the guest rooms.”
They followed her down the long hall, past polished floors and walls lined with minimalist art. She opened a door on the left, flicking the light on. “Two per room. Same with the next one.” She led them farther down to another door. “And this one’s set for a single.”
There was a brief silence before Dongmin piped up, scratching the back of his neck. “Then, uh… maybe Jace can have that one. Three of us can squeeze together. Doesn’t matter.”
The other members shifted, some nodding. It made sense better to keep distance.
But Nova’s reply cut clean through their compromise.
“Jace is fine,” she said flatly. “He’s already sleeping on the floor.”
The way she said it left no room for negotiation. The members fell quiet, exchanging uneasy glances.
Haesoo’s chest tightened at the reminder Jace, in her room, even on the floor, was closer to her than any of them would ever be.
Nova turned back to them, her tone brisk. “Settle in. Don’t make a mess.” And with that, she started back down the hall, her Coke Zero in hand, leaving them in the doorway of the guest rooms.
The doors shut softly behind them as they dropped their bags in the guest rooms. For a moment, no one said anything the weight of the day still pressing down. Then Dongmin flopped onto one of the beds, his voice sharp with frustration.
“She really said Jace is fine on the floor like it’s no big deal. In her room.”
Taeyul leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “He’s not just in her room. Did you see the way she looked at him? The way Poppy clung to him? He’s part of her circle. We’re not.”
Eunwoo sat on the edge of the bed, his voice softer but no less heavy. “She didn’t even hesitate when he showed up. No explanation, no warning. Just ‘Yeah, we’ll go to dinner.’ Like we didn’t matter.”
Jisung rubbed his temples, his notebook still sitting unopened in his lap. “I don’t think we realize how far away she’s gotten from us. We came begging, and she… she’s living a whole different life.”
Dongmin groaned, covering his face with his hands. “And she doesn’t care if we see it. That’s the worst part. She’s not hiding him, or Poppy, or any of it.”
Minjae, who had been quiet, finally spoke, his tone even. “She’s making a point. We’re here on her terms. She wants us to remember that.”
The room fell into silence again, everyone stewing in their own thoughts.
Taeyul let out a short laugh, bitter this time. “You know what’s wild? Even when she cuts us down like this… I still feel like we need her. Like if she said ‘jump,’ I’d ask how high.”
No one argued. That silence said enough.
Across the hall, Haesoo sat on the edge of his bed alone, the sound of their muffled voices reaching him but his mind was fixed on something else entirely. Nova’s voice. Jace’s smirk. The image of her carrying him inside like he belonged there.
The next morning, the house was already alive with the faint clatter of dishes and the smell of something savory. One by one, the members stepped out of the guest rooms, still groggy, only to freeze in the doorway of the kitchen.
Nova sat at the marble counter with Poppy and Jace, the three of them eating casually from plates of chilaquiles topped with fried eggs and crumbled cheese. Their laughter was low, easy, like this was their routine one the members had clearly never been part of.
Dongmin blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Uh… what’s this?”
Nova glanced up briefly, her expression cool. “Breakfast,” she said flatly, spearing another bite with her fork. “I only made for us. There’s food in the fridge.”
The bluntness hit harder than the smell of the food, which made their stomachs twist with hunger. None of them moved toward the fridge not yet.
Poppy finished first, sliding her plate into the sink before pulling her bag over her shoulder. Jace polished off the last bite of his own plate and leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I’ll take you to HQ,” he told Poppy, his voice smooth and casual. He stood, already grabbing his keys.
“Okay,” Poppy said, smiling as she fell into step beside him. She gave Nova a quick look, and Nova nodded once permission granted without words.
The two of them headed for the door, leaving Nova at the counter with her Coke Zero beside her plate, eating like nothing was out of place.
The members stood awkwardly, the distance between them and her table longer than the whole estate.
Nova set down her fork and reached for her Coke Zero, the metallic click of the can opening puncturing the silence. She took a slow sip before glancing at the members still hovering in the doorway.
“If you have songs for an album,” she said evenly, as if the last night hadn’t happened at all, “show them to me after breakfast. I’ll choose the ones worth keeping and give them revisions.”
The members exchanged quick looks surprise, hesitation, even a spark of relief.
Jisung shifted, his notebook half-hidden under his arm. His voice was careful. “You’ll… go through them yourself?”
“Yes,” Nova replied, tone clipped. “You brought me here to do a job, so I’ll do it. But don’t waste my time with half-finished drafts. If you want a song on the album, it better be good enough to make me stop reading.”
Dongmin muttered under his breath, “Guess she’s back in business mode…” but he pulled out his phone anyway, already scrolling through saved files.
Minjae gave a small nod, steady as always. “Understood. We’ll be ready.”
Nova leaned back against her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Good. Then eat something. After that, we work.”
The way she said it calm, commanding, absolute reminded them all of why she’d built them in the first place. She wasn’t coddling them, wasn’t comforting them. She was still leading.
And whether they admitted it or not, they needed that.
After finishing her plate, Nova rose without a word, gathering the dishes left on the counter. She rinsed them under the faucet, stacked them neatly in the dishwasher, and wiped down the marble like she always did efficient, unbothered, as if cleaning was simply another extension of her control.
Behind her, the members finally moved to the fridge, pulling out eggs, bread, and vegetables to cobble together breakfast of their own. Dongmin fussed over the pan, Jisung chopped quietly, Taeyul complained about the knife being dull. It almost felt normal almost except for the heavy awareness that they were cooking for themselves because Nova hadn’t included them in hers.
By the time the smell of scrambled eggs and toast filled the kitchen, Nova had already retreated to the living room. She curled into the corner of the wide couch, her Coke Zero balanced on the armrest, her laptop open in front of her. Fingers moving with precision, she scrolled through files, eyes scanning, highlighting, deleting. Business as usual.
The members glanced at her from the kitchen the glow of the screen lighting her face, the way she seemed locked in her own orbit, untouched by the noise around her.
“She’s already working,” Eunwoo murmured, setting plates onto the table.
Minjae nodded, his tone low. “That’s what she does.”
And somehow, that truth stung more than her dismissal the night before.
The members ate quickly, nerves sharper than hunger. When they finished, they gathered their notebooks, tablets, and phones, then drifted into the living room where Nova sat on the couch with her laptop open.
One by one, they set their work on the coffee table lyric sheets, demos, rough recordings. Even Haesoo slid his folder forward, the paper crisp, his handwriting tight from the long nights he’d spent bent over the pages.
Nova closed her laptop with a quiet snap, her gaze moving over the stack. “Alright,” she said, leaning back. “Let’s see what you’ve”
The front door opened. Asher strolled in, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, phone in hand. He scanned the room, noticed the pile of work, and smirked.
“Interrupting?” His eyes went to Nova. “I heard Jace got wasted yesterday.”
Nova actually laughed, the sound soft but real. She leaned back into the couch, shaking her head.
“The waitress messed up,” she said, still amused. “Kept bringing him alcoholic drinks. He didn’t even notice just kept ordering because they taste good.”
Asher chuckled, unsympathetic. “Figures. Guy probably thought they were fancy mocktails.”
Nova smirked into her Coke Zero. “And he drank every one of them.”
The members exchanged uneasy glances, their songs untouched on the table. For Nova, it was casual another story from a world that moved effortlessly around her. For them, it was another reminder: she laughed freely with others, while keeping them pressed firmly at arm’s length.
Asher shook his head with a grin. “I would’ve paid to see that.”
Nova let out another laugh, softer this time, remembering. She leaned back against the cushions, her Coke Zero in hand.
“Last night,” she said, amused, “I woke up looking for my pillow. He was talking to it. Having a full-on conversation.”
The members blinked, stunned. Nova smirked at the memory.
“So I took it back,” she continued, “and he actually got upset. Sat up and told me I was interrupting something important.”
Asher burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. “Of course he did. Drunk Jace thinks he’s a philosopher.”
The sound of Nova’s laugh light, real, unguarded filled the space for a moment. The members just sat there, the stack of songs untouched in front of her, their unease growing. To them, it was another reminder that she could be warm, even playful just not with them.
Asher wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “You know what? We should get him drunk more often. Guy’s the life of the party.”
Nova smirked, swirling the Coke Zero can in her hand. “We should, right?”
Asher shook his head, chuckling. “I just came to drop this off,” he said, placing a slim folder on the counter. “I’m heading to HQ. Gotta make fun of Jace while the memory’s still fresh.”
Nova’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Don’t go too easy on him.”
“Me? Easy?” Asher scoffed, already moving toward the door. He tossed a lazy wave over his shoulder before slipping out, leaving the room in silence once more.
The members stared at Nova, the stack of their songs still untouched on the table, while she leaned back against the cushions, the faint trace of amusement still tugging at her mouth.
Nova’s pen clicked softly as she flipped open the first notebook. The members leaned forward, tense, watching her eyes move swiftly across the lines.
“Lazy rhymes,” she said flatly, tapping her pen against the margin. “And this hook? Forgettable. If you can’t remember it without reading, the public won’t either.” She pushed the notebook back toward Dongmin, who winced but nodded, taking it without protest.
She opened the next submission, her gaze scanning. “Better. But you’re writing like you’re scared of yourself.” Her eyes flicked up to Jisung, who immediately dropped his gaze. “Cut the filler lines. You’re stronger when you’re blunt.” She drew a single slash through two bars, her handwriting quick and decisive, before sliding it back.
Another notebook. Another quick assessment. “This melody isn’t bad,” she said, softer now but still sharp. “But your verses read like diary entries. Clean them up or they’ll never make it past demo.”
The members shifted uneasily, taking notes in silence.
Finally, she pulled Taeyul’s draft toward her. The room tensed — Taeyul least of all, sitting with his arms crossed like he was bracing for impact.
Nova read silently for a long moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Then she set the pen down and looked up.
“This,” she said at last, her tone even but firm, “has potential.”
The room stilled.
She tapped the page with her finger. “Out of everything I’ve seen this morning, this is the only one that could work as a main track. It’s not polished — you’ll need revisions, maybe a restructure in the bridge — but the bones are there.”
For the first time since they arrived in California, Taeyul’s lips tugged into the faintest smirk. “So you’re saying I don’t completely suck.”
Nova’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed. “Don’t get cute. I said potential. Not finished. Don’t ruin it by thinking you’re already there.”
The smirk faltered, but the others noticed the flicker of pride in his eyes anyway.
Nova stacked his draft aside, then reached for the last folder Haesoo’s. Her fingers lingered a second on the cover before she opened it.
She read in silence, her face unmoving. Haesoo’s chest was tight, every second stretching like an eternity.
When she finally looked up, her voice was flat, sharper than before.
“This sounds like everything else you’ve already released.”
Haesoo’s breath caught.
“Predictable,” Nova continued, tapping her pen against the page. “Same structure, same emotional angle, same phrasing. If I can predict the chorus before I get there, so can the audience. You’re too talented to stay safe, but that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Her eyes lingered on him, steady and cold. “If you want to keep writing like this, fine but don’t expect me to put it on the album. I’m not wasting space on something I’ve already heard from you a dozen times.”
The others shifted uncomfortably, the tension wrapping tight around the room.
Nova set his folder down, dismissive, and leaned back. “Taeyul’s is the only one with main track potential. The rest of you revise. Haesoo, figure out if you’re going to evolve or keep recycling yourself.”
The silence that followed was brutal.
Haesoo swallowed hard, his jaw tight, but he didn’t say a word. He just sat there, her critique echoing like a wound he couldn’t hide.
Nova let the silence stretch, her pen still in her hand. The members sat frozen, the sting of her words hanging heavy in the room. Finally, she closed the last folder and stacked everything neatly on the table.
“You’re all staying here,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone clipped and final. “You’ll fix these songs under this roof. I don’t want excuses, and I don’t want to hear about distractions. I want results.”
The members exchanged uneasy glances.
Nova leaned back against the couch, arms folding loosely, eyes sharp. “And I’ll be working here too. Which means I’ll know if you’re slacking off. I want to see you writing. I want to hear you revising. If you’re not working, I’ll know.”
Dongmin muttered under his breath, “Like being back in school with the scariest teacher.”
Nova’s gaze snapped to him. “Good. Then maybe you’ll actually learn something.”
The room went quiet again, the message clear: she wasn’t giving them the freedom to stumble on their own anymore. If they wanted her name tied to their next album, they would earn it under her constant watch.
Haesoo’s jaw tightened, the sting of her words still fresh. She wasn’t just doubting him she was stripping away his shield. He’d have to rebuild his work, right in front of her.
The room was quiet except for the soft tap of keyboards and the scratch of pens against paper. Nova sat on the couch with her laptop open, scrolling through files while the members hunched over their drafts across the coffee table, revising under her watchful presence. The air was thick with focus and tension until the front door opened.
Jace strolled in, hair damp from the morning sun, his smirk already in place. His eyes found Nova instantly.
“Really?” he said, voice edged with amusement.
Nova didn’t even look up from her screen. “Referring to the video I sent?”
“Delete it,” Jace shot back, crossing the room.
“No,” Nova said simply, a sly smile flickering at the corner of her lips. “I’m going to post it.”
The members froze mid-writing, heads snapping up at the casual threat.
Jace narrowed his eyes, leaning closer. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
In a flash, he reached for her phone. Nova darted up from the couch, slipping out of reach with the kind of quickness none of the members could match. She bolted around the coffee table, laughter breaking free as Jace lunged after her.
“Give it back, Reyes,” he warned.
“Come and take it, Jace,” she shot back, teasing.
He caught her by the waist, lifting her clean off the ground. Nova twisted in his arms, still holding her phone high, but Jace plucked it from her hand with practiced ease.
“Got it,” he said, grinning as he set her down.
Nova’s response was immediate a sharp kick to his shin.
“Ah, shit!” Jace hissed, still laughing as he hopped back. “You’re not playing fair!”
Nova crossed her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I never do.”
The members sat frozen, watching the entire scene like they’d just walked into the middle of someone else’s world a world where Nova laughed freely, teased shamelessly, and let herself be caught.
And for Haesoo, sitting with his half-finished lyrics, the ache in his chest was unbearable.
Jace still clutched her phone triumphantly, grinning like he’d finally won. Nova only folded her arms, her smirk deepening.
“You think I’m dumb enough to keep one copy?” she said coolly. “I made extras.”
The grin slipped a fraction. “What?”
Nova tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she parroted the exact words he’d slurred the night before, soft and mocking:
“Shh… you don’t understand.”
Jace froze, the color creeping into his ears. Only the two of them knew what she was referring to the ridiculous, half-asleep conversation he’d been having with her pillow.
The members exchanged confused glances, trying to piece it together, but Nova didn’t explain. She just leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, smug in her victory.
Jace raked a hand through his hair, trying to recover his composure. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Nova smirked wider. “Try me.”
The tension snapped into laughter hers sharp and amused, his exasperated but helpless.
The members sat stiff, watching this entire exchange like they weren’t even in the room.
And Haesoo… Haesoo’s chest tightened with a deeper ache. She was teasing, laughing, trading secrets but not with him. Never with him.
Jace narrowed his eyes, still holding her phone but clearly aware he’d lost the upper hand. “Alright, fine,” he muttered. “What do you want?”
Nova didn’t hesitate. “I want a cake. My favorite one.”
Jace blinked. “That’s, what two hours away?”
Nova leaned back into the couch, smirk tugging at her lips, arms folding across her chest like a queen issuing a decree. “Then I suggest you start going.”
Jace let out a long, theatrical groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.” He shook his head, muttering under his breath before finally straightening. “Fine.”
He shoved her phone back into her hand with a little more force than necessary, but Nova only smiled, victorious.
“Drive safe,” she said sweetly.
Jace shot her a look as he grabbed his keys, then headed for the door, mumbling about “cake extortion” and “unfair tactics.”
The door shut behind him, leaving the members staring at Nova in stunned silence.
She set her phone back down beside her Coke Zero, as if nothing had happened. “Well?” Her eyes flicked over the stack of lyrics again. “Why are you just sitting there? Get back to work.”
The members scrambled back into motion, but Haesoo’s chest burned hotter than ever. Nova had Jace running two hours for cake and he went. Just like that.
The living room was quiet except for the hum of laptops and the scratch of pens. Pages piled up on the coffee table, some marked in red from Nova’s edits, others half-scribbled with new lines. The members worked with their heads down, too aware of her presence on the couch, glancing up every so often to see if she was watching.
After another solid hour, Nova finally closed her laptop with a quiet snap. She stretched her arms above her head, leaned back into the cushions, and took a long sip from her Coke Zero.
“You can take one hour for lunch,” she said flatly, as though dismissing a classroom.
The members froze, almost disbelieving they were being given a break.
Dongmin was the first to react, slumping back in his chair. “Finally.”
Minjae shot him a look. “Don’t act like she just handed you a vacation. It’s one hour.”
Nova glanced over at them, unimpressed. “Fifty-nine minutes now.”
Dongmin groaned but pushed up from the chair anyway, heading toward the kitchen.
The others followed slowly, grateful for the pause, though the tension still lingered. Even in their break, they knew she was watching the clock.
Haesoo lingered behind, his eyes flicking toward her before quickly dropping back to his notes. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to be near her or as far away as possible.
Nova pulled her phone into her lap again, scrolling idly as though they weren’t even there.
The members were in the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and debating whether to cook or just order again, when Nova’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, smirk tugging at her lips, and answered.
On speaker, Jace’s voice came through, exasperated. “Nova, please don’t upload it. I’m already an hour away from the damn cake shop.”
The members froze mid-motion, looking at her.
Nova leaned back against the counter, Coke Zero in hand. “Make it by four,” she said evenly, her tone deceptively sweet. “And I won’t upload it.”
There was a pause, the sound of Jace sighing loud enough to carry through the line. “You’re impossible.”
Nova smiled. “And you’re predictable. Better start driving faster.”
She ended the call before he could argue further, sliding her phone back onto the counter like it was nothing.
The members exchanged glances stunned again at how easily she controlled Jace, how casually she bent him to her will.
