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Sophia had always been one of the touchier members of Katseye, tending to throw herself across people's laps during lives, grabbing onto whoever’s arm was nearest, things of that sort. And, when the cameras were on, they all leaned into that bit anyway, laughing too loudly, leaning too close. So when Sophia draped herself over Manon on the live, an arm wrapped around her shoulders and laughing, Megan barely even blinked.
But after the live ended and they went back to their shared house, it didn’t stop.
Sophia had her chin on Manon’s shoulder while they were making breakfast, one hand lazily drawing patterns on her arm.
Megan tried to laugh it off and ignore it, but a weird feeling in her chest was beginning to build.
She never really cared when Sophia was practically on top of Lara or Daniela, but for some reason, watching Sophia lean into Manon off-camera with no audience that they were playing to felt different.
Megan watched them while she stirred sweetener into her coffee a little too aggressively, her spoon clinking loudly against the sides of the mug.
Initially, she told herself it was a one-off, Sophia was being touchy, and had to attach herself to whoever was nearest. Any minute now, she’d flop onto Lara or drape herself across Daniela, and the balance would reset. She might even lean into Megan’s space again. Who knows.
But as the days went by, she kept only attaching herself to Manon’s side.
They were in the practice room when it really settled in on Megan that this was not a one-off.
There weren’t even cameramen trying to capture behind-the-scenes content. It was just the six of them (and their dance instructors), sweaty and exhausted, after two hours of running through the same routine over and over again. When they finally called a water break, Sophia didn’t even hesitate before she moved toward Manon, who was sitting against the mirrored wall. Sophia slid down and rested her head on Manon's shoulder.
It felt so intimate that Megan felt almost invasive looking, and she had to tear her eyes away. She focused on her shoelaces, but she couldn't tune out the conversation just a few feet away from her. Couldn't tune out Sophia laughing way too loudly at whatever Manon had just said.
Lara’s voice broke her out of her stupor.
“Hey Megan, can you help me out with this part?”
“Which part?” Megan turned quickly, seizing the opportunity to not pay attention to Manon and Sophia. But she couldn't help but catch in the corner of her eye Manon playing with Sophia's hair. It made her want to suggest that the six of them run the routine again, just so she wouldn’t have to see that.
“Does it look alright?” Lara prompted.
Megan blinked, and she went red with the realization that Lara had just done an eight-count of their dance, and she had not watched a single one. “No, yeah. It does. Let’s try it together now.”
Megan counted off for Lara, moving slowly in tandem with her. But it felt like muscle memory was carrying her while her brain was elsewhere. Because the two of them were looking in the mirror, and there was a massive distraction sitting just under the mirror.
It shouldn’t matter. It really didn’t matter to Megan.
They did the eight count two more times, and Megan finally breathed when she turned away from the mirror and turned toward Lara, who was studying her with a watchful gaze.
“They’ve been attached at the hip lately, huh?”
She didn't need to specify who she was talking about.
“I don't know," Megan said, picking at her nails and feigning indifference.
“Uh-huh.” Lara's mouth quirked at the corner. “Like you haven't been staring at them this whole time.”
“I don’t care,” Megan said, tone all too defensive. “Why would I care?”
Lara's face just broke into a full-on smile in that way she did when she knew something Megan didn’t, her eyebrows raised, lips pressed like she was holding back a laugh. It pissed Megan off.
“No reason,” Lara said, drawing the words out. “You’re just… really watching them, that’s all.”
Megan frowned, but her face felt hot. She turned away, desperate to escape the teasing in Lara's voice. “Am not.”
“Sure,” Lara said easily, but she could hear Lara's smile even with her back turned.
When they made it back to the house after rehearsal, Megan felt especially exhausted. Practice had run late, and she kept making more mistakes than normal. In the back of her mind, she kept replaying the break in her head, the way in which Sophia leaned into the space between Manon's jaw and shoulder. The way that Lara had smirked at her. Her mistakes, Sophia, and Lara all ran on an infinite loop in her head the entire car ride back to the shared house.
She dropped her bag by the door and made her way to the couch, where she flopped down with a loud groan. Maybe she could sink into the couch, and all these messy feelings would go away.
Unfortunately, Daniela had already taken ownership of the opposite end of the couch, scrolling her phone mindlessly. At first glance, she seemed calm enough. But when Megan looked a little harder, she could see how Daniela's mouth was set in a slight downturn, her jaw tight. She was holding something in, and Megan was counting the seconds until whatever Daniela was compartmentalizing exploded out of her. Then Daniela's eyes caught her looking, and she knew she had stepped straight into the blast zone.
“You’ve noticed it too, right?” Daniela said suddenly, practically slamming her phone into the cushion next to her.
Megan’s stomach dropped. She knew exactly where this conversation was headed, but she still tried for ignorance. “Noticed what?” she asked, choosing to look away from Daniela.
Daniela didn’t buy her ignorance for a second. “Manon. Sophia. The… thing. Whatever is happening right now.”
Megan winced and sat up, bringing her knees into her chest. “Oh. Yeah. I mean. They’ve been… close.”
Daniela scoffed. “Close? Sophia was basically on top of Manon all of practice. I swear, if I see her lean on her one more time—” She cut herself off, shaking her head dramatically. “I’m just worried about how this is going to impact the group.”
Megan nodded in agreement way too fast, suddenly enthused. “Exactly. That’s what I’ve been thinking. Like, what if people start… speculating? It’s unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional,” Daniela echoed, her voice solemn.
“Yeah. Totally. I mean, I don’t care personally.” Megan twisted the hem of her hoodie between her fingers. “I just think it might, you know, mess things up.”
Daniela sat up straighter, eyes widening as if the two of them had just solved the unsolvable. “Exactly! Ugh, I’m glad you get it.”
Then, before they could ruminate on the subject any longer, a loud sound cut through the house. One that was unmistakably Sophia, followed by the cackling of Manon. Both Megan's and Daniela's heads snapped toward the ceiling. And they stayed there, staring at the white paint above them as if they would be able to hear any better by looking closer. Then, slowly, with defeat, the two of them looked down and inevitably back at each other. Daniela's cheeks were dusted pink, and Megan was sure hers matched a similar hue.
“Anyway,” Daniela started, acting like whatever that was had never occurred. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who has noticed.”
“No, for sure,” Megan affirmed, and the relief that was washing over Megan was almost embarrassing. But nonetheless, it was reassuring. If Daniela noticed it too and was also bothered by whatever was happening upstairs, then maybe Megan wasn’t reading too closely into things or overreacting.
They sat there for another minute, both of them sitting in their own thoughts. The house had gone quiet upstairs, which somehow felt worse than the loud laughter. At least then, they knew.
“I should probably get some sleep," Megan said finally, pushing herself off the couch. “Early practice tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too,” Daniela agreed.
Megan walked back toward the front door to grab her bag and then headed for the stairs. She climbed slowly, each step creaking under her feet in the quiet house. At the top of the stairs, she paused. Sophia's door was closed, but there was a strip of light underneath.
Megan stood there longer than she should have, staring at that strip of golden light and wondering what could possibly be happening on the other side. Probably nothing, Yoonchae lived there too. She dismissed any speculation as soon as it crept into her mind.
She forced herself to turn away to walk to her and Lara's room, but she couldn't help but keep checking over her shoulder to see if someone would come out or if that strip of light would fade.
That night, Megan padded down the hall, half-asleep and thinking only of cereal, when she heard voices drifting from the kitchen. She slowed her walk semi-intentionally.
“—no, Sophia’s helping Manon,” Lara was saying.
Megan froze just before the doorway, pulse skipping. Helping her?
Yoonchae sounded skeptical. “Helping with what?”
Megan held her breath.
“Helping Manon…” Lara hesitated, then her voice dropped like she didn’t want it overheard. “You know, with—”
A chair scraped, and Megan panicked, stepping back before she could catch the rest (or get her cereal). She retreated fast, heart hammering. By the time she shut her bedroom door behind her, she was already filling in the blanks.
Sophia’s helping Manon.
Her chest went hot and tight. She didn’t need the details. She’d already seen the touches, the closeness, the easy way they seemed to fold into each other.
So that was it. That was what was going on.
They had an arrangement. Some friends-with-benefits thing that explained all the casual touching, all the whispered conversations, all the looks that lasted just a beat too long.
Megan sat down hard on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. It wasn’t her business. It really wasn’t.
But the worst part was how much sense it made. Of course, Sophia would say yes if Manon asked. Sophia was generous like that, always willing to help a friend out.
Megan's stomach turned. She didn't want to think about what “helping” looked like. Didn’t want to picture Sophia’s hands on Manon's skin, or the way Sophia's breath might catch when Manon whispered something in her ear. Didn't want to imagine how easy it probably was between them, how uncomplicated.
She flopped backward on her bed, staring at the ceiling. This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. So what if they had some casual thing going on? It didn't change anything. It didn't affect her at all.
Except it did affect her.
But why did it? Why did the thought of Sophia with Manon make her feel like someone was stabbing her chest? Why had she been watching them so closely, cataloguing every touch, every look, every laugh?
When had she started hoping that Sophia would drape herself over Megan? Hoping that they would sit next to each other in an interview or live, because Sophia naturally gravitated toward touching the person next to her? When had she started missing their late-night talks about everything and nothing, curled up on opposite ends of the couch with their feet almost touching in the middle?
The realization felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her.
She liked Sophia.
Megan pressed her eyes into the heels of her palms and exhaled shakily. God, of course it was Sophia.
Sophia, who was upstairs right now, probably curled up with Manon, doing God knows what as part of their little arrangement. Sophia, who saw Megan as a baby sister and group member and nothing else.
Megan’s chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. She wanted to crawl under her blankets and disappear forever. She wanted to pretend the realization hadn’t come crashing down with such force; in fact, she wanted to pretend she never had the realization. But she couldn’t. Because now she knew.
She liked Sophia.
Megan couldn’t stay in her own head any longer. The knot in her chest had tightened to the point where she felt like she might explode at any second. She needed someone to talk to, someone safe. Daniela. She grabbed her phone and practically ran to Daniela’s door.
She knocked hard.
“Girl it’s like 2 a.m.,” came Daniela’s voice, groggy but laced with curiosity regardless.
“Can I come in?” Megan asked, fumbling with the doorknob despite the fact that the door was locked.
There was a pause, then a sigh. “Fine.”
Once she heard the click, Megan pushed the door open and practically stumbled inside, her hoodie twisted in her hands. Daniela was walking back to resume her position of sitting cross-legged on her bed. “Okay… spill. What’s going on?”
“I overheard Lara say that Sophia was helping Manon… I think they’re hooking up”
Daniela’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment her expression flickered: her mouth widened, but then her eyes narrowed.
“What exactly did you hear?” Daniela pushed.
“I just said, Sophia is helping Manon with you know…” Megan trailed off, waving her hands vaguely, too embarrassed to spell it out.
“With what?” Daniela pressed, her voice clipped.
“I don’t know!” Megan groaned, flopping down into the desk chair. “But they’ve been all over each other, don’t you think they might be… You know... Hooking up?”
Daniela was quiet for a long moment, her eyes fixed on something past Megan's shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was carefully controlled.
“You think they’re... like, what, friends with benefits?”
“Maybe? I mean, it would explain everything, right? All the touching and the whispering and—” Megan's voice caught, unsure of where she was going.
Daniela let the silence hang for a moment before sighing. She sat forward, elbows braced on her knees, expression unreadable, but her voice tight. “If Sophia's really — if she and Manon are actually —“
She stopped, biting back the rest. Then her chin lifted, jaw setting with determination.
“I'll talk to Manon.”
Megan's head snapped up. “Wait. What? Why?”
“Because.” Daniela's tone was final, but Megan caught the edges of something raw. “If there really is something going on, I deserve to know.”
Megan stared at her, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. Daniela’s face was calm, composed, but Megan knew Daniela well enough not notice how her hands had curled into fists against her thighs, her knuckles white as they clutched harder and harder the fabric of her sweatpants.
“Daniela,” she said slowly, “why do you deserve to know?”
Daniela just shook her head. “I’ll talk to her when she comes back, in the morning.”
Megan had come here looking for comfort, for someone to help her process her own revelation. Instead, she had apparently lit a match and thrown it into whatever mess had been building between Daniela and Manon.
“Wait, are you sure? I didn’t mean to—”
“I’ve been thinking about this for days, Megan. You should go to sleep.”
Megan stood ad stepped back from Daniela slowly.
She lingered in the doorway, torn between apologizing again and bolting, but Daniela’s eyes had already shifted away.
So Megan left.
Megan woke up with her stomach in knots. Her hoodie was twisted uncomfortably around her, and she felt damp with sweat, hair plastered against her neck.
For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing the memories from last night to blur. But they didn’t. Daniela’s face, flat, controlled, with that flicker of something in her eyes, kept replaying in her head. “I’ll talk to Manon.”
Megan sat up too fast. If Daniela really confronted Manon, then… what? Would there be a fight? Would Sophia get dragged into it? Would everyone know that she was the one who’d started it?
She pressed her palms against her eyes, groaning. She’d wanted comfort, someone to calm her down, not… this.
Across the hall, she could hear doors opening, someone’s footsteps, laughter that sounded like Manon’s. The sound only made her pulse spike up.
She pulled the blanket tighter around her, debating whether she should stay in her room all day, pretend to be sick, or do anything to avoid seeing Sophia, or Manon, or even Daniela. But especially Sophia.
Megan tried to stall. She really did. She brushed her teeth twice, lingered in front of her closet, and even sat on the edge of her bed scrolling through her phone for like an hour. But eventually hunger forced her out, and she padded down the hall toward the kitchen, blanket still draped around her shoulders like a cape.
Sophia was leaning against the counter, phone in one hand, mug in the other. She looked up when Megan froze in the doorway.
“Oh,” Sophia said, a little too quickly, sliding her phone onto the counter. “Morning.”
“Where’s Manon?” The words burst out of Megan before she could stop them.
Sophia blinked at her, mug halfway to her lips. “She went out for breakfast with Daniela, why?”
Megan’s throat worked. “Oh. I don’t know. Usually you’re like…” She waved a hand, searching for a neutral word that wouldn’t betray how closely she’d been watching. “With her.”
Meanwhile, her head was spinning. Breakfast? With Daniela? That wasn’t the outcome she’d fallen asleep and woken up dreading. Last night, Daniela’s “I’ll talk to Manon” had lodged itself under Megan’s skin like a splinter she couldn’t get out. She’d pictured a blowup or maybe icy silence, that drew lines in the group. Not this: Manon and Daniela suddenly… fine? Together? And Sophia was standing here alone, like it wasn’t a big revelation.
“Not today, I guess,” Sophia said, voice light, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
But to Megan, it wasn’t simple at all. It was like the ground kept shifting under her feet, leaving her scrambling for balance. If Manon and Daniela were fine now, then what did that mean? Did Sophia know? Was Sophia relieved? Did it even matter?
”How’d you sleep?” Sophia asked.
“Fine.” Megan’s voice cracked on the single word, and she cleared her throat, fussing with the edge of her blanket. “Totally fine. Slept like a rock.”
Sophia’s mouth twitched, like she didn’t quite buy it, but she didn’t push. She picked her mug back up, fingers curling around the ceramic. “Good. You looked… tired yesterday.”
Megan’s stomach swooped. “Oh.” She tugged her blanket tighter, wishing it would swallow her whole. “Yeah, I mean, I’m always tired.” She laughed too sharply.
“Right,” Sophia said, slow, almost amused. She shifted her weight against the counter. “You want coffee? There’s some left.”
Megan blinked. Coffee. Sophia is offering her coffee. Her brain short-circuited. “Uh, no, I—” she glanced at the pot, then at Sophia’s hand still holding her mug, and swallowed. “Maybe later. I’m… not really awake yet.”
Sophia tilted her head, eyes narrowing because she knew that was bullshit, but her smile stayed in place and she didn’t push.
“Fair enough,” she said and took another sip, watching Megan over the rim of the cup.
Megan’s pulse was so loud she could barely hear herself. She needed to say something, anything, to make herself seem more normal. “So… uh… you’re not, like, going out with them later?”
Sophia shook her head, setting the mug down again. “No. Figured I’d stay in today.” She glanced at her phone on the counter to check the time, then back at Megan. “What about you?”
The question was simple, but Megan froze. What about her? Her day? Her plans? It felt like a trap.
“Oh, I, uh… I’ve got stuff. To do.” She waved toward the hallway. “Practice. Producing. You know. Stuff.”
Sophia raised her brows but didn’t comment, She leaned forward slightly, arms braced against the counter and looking expectant.
Megan couldn’t take it. She forced a laugh, already stepping backward. “Anyway, I should… go do that. Before I forget. Yeah.”
Sophia’s smile faltered, only for a second, before she recovered. “Sure,” she said lightly. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Megan nodded too fast, retreating down the hall with her blanket dragging behind her. Her heart was hammering, her face hot, and all she could think was: Nope. Nope nope nope. Avoiding her from now on. That’s the only way.
For the next two days, Megan turned avoidance into an Olympic sport that she would win Gold in.
At breakfast, she’d hover on the stairs and wait until the sound of Sophia’s laugh faded before sneaking into the kitchen. Once, she nearly collided with her anyway and wound up retreating with nothing but a single slice of bread clutched in her hand.
She wore her headphones everywhere, not even playing music, just using them as visual proof she was “busy.” When Sophia tried to wave her over to the couch one afternoon, Megan pretended not to see, eyes locked on her phone. She walked straight into the arm of the sofa.
It was ridiculous, exhausting, and not at all subtle. And every time Megan congratulated herself on pulling it off, she’d catch Sophia’s eyes following her, or that faint little crease between her brows that meant she definitely, definitely noticed.
By the end of the second day, Megan was wound so tight she jumped when the toaster popped in the kitchen all the way. Which was exactly when Sophia appeared in her bedroom’s doorway, holding two iced lattes and looking like she’d run out of patience.
“We’re hanging out.”
Megan glanced up from her laptop, her headphones slipping down to her neck. “I’m actually kind of busy.”
“No, you’re not.” Sophia crossed the room like she lived in it, set one cup on the desk, and plopped onto Megan’s bed. She shoved the other drink toward her.
Megan hesitated, then took the drink and immediately began to play with the straw wrapper.
Sophia leaned back, like she was planning on staying a while. “We’re going to sit here and talk like normal people until you stop avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you.”
Sophia gave Megan a look that made Megan shrink back. “Megan. You've spoken maybe ten words to me in the past two days. You need to tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? Do you want me to leave you alone?”
If Megan said that yes, she did want for Sophia to leave her alone, Sophia would. And the thought of Sophia actually pulling away sent a new wave of panic surging through her chest.
“You didn’t do anything,” she said quietly.
“Then what is it?”
This is it. This is her chance to fix things, to go back to how they were before she realized she was an idiot with feelings. Except she couldn’t seem to find a lie that seemed believable enough.
“Can I ask you something?” Megan said instead.
“Yeah, of course,” Sophia shifted, tucking one leg under herself.
Megan twisted the straw wrapper until it nearly ripped. “So are you and Manon, like, over now?”
Sophia's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“I thought you two were like….” Megan gestured vaguely, “hooking up.”
Sophia barked a laugh, disbelieving. “Oh, I’m not—”
“Into women?” The question slipped out before Megan could stop it.
“Into Manon,” Sophia corrected, giving Megan a strange look. “I was helping her make Dani jealous.”
The relief that flooded through Megan was so intense that she felt almost dizzy. “Oh,” was all she could manage.
“Yeah, oh.” Sophia studied her face, “Why? Were you…?”
“I was jealous,” Megan admitted, the words barely audible. “I was so jealous I felt sick.”
Sophia's expression softened. “Why?”
“Because I wanted it to be me,” she whispered, and finally, finally, the truth was out.
Sophia went quiet for a second. Then: “Wait... you like Manon?”
Megan's heart dropped. This was her chance to lie. To nod. To let Sophia think it was Manon, a crush that would fade in a few weeks. Eventually, Sophia would tease her about it. It would be a group joke they would all call back to. 'Remember when Megan liked Manon?'
Instead, "No" slipped out.
"No?" Sophia said, her eyebrows raising.
"It's you," Megan said, unable to even look at Sophia. "I like you."
The silence stretched, and Megan felt sick. She'd fucked it up. She'd have to quit Katseye. This was it.
"You like me?" Sophia said, her voice but a whisper.
"Yeah," Megan said, voice just as low. "I do." She swallowed, her throat bobbing. "And I know I probably just ruined everything because you're like my friend and our leader and—”
Sophia kissed her.
Megan froze. She couldn't process the fact that Sophia's lips were on hers; much less summon the ability to kiss her back. Eventually, her brain restarted, and she kissed back before Sophia pulled away.
“I don't—” Megan started, only to be cut off by Sophia’s mouth again, like she was trying to will Megan to understand something that couldn't be spoken.
“Megan,” Sophia said against her lips, smiling, teeth brushing her bottom lip. “Shut up.”
And when Sophia leaned back at last, she had a softness in her gaze that made Megan feel all melty inside.
"I've liked you for a while, Megan."
"But you were—"
"Hanging all over Manon, yeah," Sophia said, her thumbs brushing tenderly over Megan’s cheeks. "We thought it would make you and Dani jealous."
Megan stared at her. "That's insane"
"I know. But It worked?" Sophia said.
Megan couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it sounded. “So… do you… actually… like me?”
Sophia blinked, then let out a soft laugh, incredulous. “Megan.”
“I just—” Megan rushed on, her words tripping over each other. “I don’t want to assume you’re kissing me because you feel sorry for me, or because I said something embarrassing, or because you were trying to shut me up — well, you literally did tell me to shut up, so technically—”
“Megan.” Sophia cut in again, firm but still smiling. She tipped Megan’s chin so she had no choice but to meet her eyes. “I’m kissing you because I like you. Very much. Okay?”
Megan blinked at her, wide-eyed. “Oh.”
Sophia’s mouth quirked. “Yeah.”
There was a beat of silence, broken only by Megan’s uneven breathing. Then she blurted, “So… like… how much is ‘very much’? Like enough to put up with me panicking at you every five seconds, or—”
Sophia huffed a quiet laugh, and her entire face softened into this endearing gaze. “Enough,” she said simply.
“So…” Sophia started, eyes still locked on hers. “You won’t avoid me anymore?”
Megan let out a shaky breath. Avoid her? When Sophia looked at her like that? The thought of slipping back into the habits of the last two days was unimaginable now.
She managed a small nod.
Sophia grinned, and then leaned in. When their lips met, it felt like a promise to each other.
When they broke apart, Sophia rested her forehead against Megan's.
“Good,” Sophia whispered.