Wooyoung was exhausted.

The past week had been a whirlwind of fittings, photoshoots, and last-minute preparations for Paris Fashion Week. He loved his job, he truly did, but sometimes he wished the world would slow down, just for a moment. At least now, as he settled into his seat on the plane, he could breathe for a bit. A direct flight from Seoul to Paris was long enough for him to get some rest, maybe watch a movie, or just zone out.

He leaned back, slipping on his headphones as the cabin filled with passengers. The white noise of shuffling bags and murmured conversations was oddly soothing. He was scrolling through his playlist when a familiar voice cut through the background hum.

"Excuse me, I need to get to my seat."

Wooyoung froze. His hand hovered over his phone as his heart skipped a beat. He recognised that voice anywhere. Slowly, almost as if in a daze, he looked up.

Choi San.

San was standing there, his carry-on slung over his shoulder and an awkward smile on his face. For a moment, Wooyoung thought he might be imagining things. But no, this was real. The boy he used to know, the boy he hadn't seen in years, was standing right in front of him.

"Wooyoung?" San's eyes widened as recognition dawned on his face.

Wooyoung blinked, his mind racing to process the situation. "San," he managed to say, his voice quieter than he intended.

The awkward silence that followed felt like an eternity. Wooyoung's brain screamed at him to say something, anything, but he was too caught off guard to form a coherent sentence.

San cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Uh, looks like we're seatmates," he said, gesturing to the window seat beside Wooyoung.

"Oh." Wooyoung glanced at the empty seat, then back at San. "Right. Yeah. Of course."

Wooyoung stood up and San slid into the seat, carefully stowing his bag under the chair in front of him. Wooyoung, stared straight ahead, his thoughts a jumbled mess. What were the chances? Out of all the planes, all the seats, San ended up here, next to him.

"Long time no see," San said, turning to face him with a small, hesitant smile.

Wooyoung finally looked at him, really looked at him. San had changed. His features were sharper now, his presence more confident. But his eyes, the way they crinkled just slightly when he smiled, were the same.

"Yeah," Wooyoung said softly. "It's been a while."

Another silence settled between them, but this time it wasn't as awkward. It was heavy, though, filled with unspoken words and memories that lingered just beneath the surface.

"So," San began, breaking the quiet. "Paris Fashion Week, huh?"

Wooyoung nodded. "Yeah. You too?"

"Yeah. First time," San admitted.

"Same."

San chuckled lightly. "Guess we're both newbies."

Wooyoung couldn't help but smile at that. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed between them. Like they were back at Hanlim, joking around during breaks and dreaming about their futures.

But things had changed. They weren't the same boys they used to be. And as much as Wooyoung wanted to fall back into that easy camaraderie, he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

The flight attendant came by to check seatbelts, interrupting their conversation. Wooyoung took the opportunity to collect his thoughts. This wasn't how he'd imagined seeing San again, but maybe it was better this way. No expectations, no planning, just them, here, in this moment.

The plane leveled off and the soft hum of the engines filled the cabin. Wooyoung couldn't stop sneaking glances at San, who remained fixated on the view outside. The city lights of Seoul were quickly fading, giving way to an endless expanse of darkness and stars.

It was surreal, having San here, right next to him, after so many years. Wooyoung wrestled with the idea of saying something but didn't know where to start. Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"So," he began awkwardly, "you, uh... still get airsick?"

San turned to him, surprised, and then let out a soft laugh. "Wow, you remember that?"

"Of course." Wooyoung grinned, feeling a little more at ease. "You used to bring, like, five packs of ginger candy for every school trip."

San smiled, the corners of his lips curling up in that familiar way that tugged at Wooyoung's heart. "Well, I've upgraded to ginger tea now," he said, holding up the steaming cup that the flight attendant had just delivered. "But yeah, still not my favourite thing."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Some things never change, huh?"

San tilted his head, studying Wooyoung for a moment. "You've changed, though," he said quietly, his tone more serious.

Wooyoung's breath caught for a second. "In a good way or a bad way?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light but feeling the weight of the question.

"In a good way," San replied, his gaze steady. "You seem... different. More confident, maybe?"

Wooyoung didn't know how to respond to that. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little self-conscious. "Well, I guess that's what happens when life throws you a curveball," he said with a shrug.

San nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah. Life has a funny way of doing that."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm after that, catching up on bits and pieces of their lives. Wooyoung told San about how Yeosang had dragged him into the world of modelling, and how he'd fought tooth and nail to prove he belonged there. San, in turn, shared stories about ATEEZ, the long hours of practice, the ups and downs of the industry, and how the members had become more like family than bandmates.

"I saw your performance last week," Wooyoung admitted after a while. "At MAMA. You guys were incredible."

San looked at him. "Yeah I saw"

"I've always kept up with you guys. Even if I didn't say anything." Wooyoung said, his voice soft but earnest.

San blinked, his expression unreadable. "Why didn't you?"

The question hung in the air, and Wooyoung hesitated. How could he explain the complicated knot of feelings he'd carried all these years? The fear, the pride, the longing, it was all too much to put into words.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear from me," Wooyoung said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

San's eyes softened, but he didn't push further. Instead, he changed the subject, asking about Wooyoung's upcoming schedule in Paris. They talked about the shows they were excited to see, the brands they admired, and even joked about how they'd probably end up lost in the city together.

As the hours passed, the tension between them eased, replaced by something warmer, something familiar. Wooyoung couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this much, or felt this comfortable, with someone.

By the time the plane began its descent into Paris, Wooyoung found himself wishing the flight were longer. The hours had passed in a blur of laughter and quiet conversation, and though so much remained unsaid, he felt lighter than he had in years.

As the plane landed and the passengers began gathering their belongings, Wooyoung hesitated. This was it. They would step off the plane, go their separate ways, and this strange reunion would end as quickly as it had started. He couldn't let that happen.

San stood up, reaching for his bag in the overhead compartment. Wooyoung stood too, nervously running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words.

"San," he said suddenly, catching the other man's attention.

San paused, looking at him expectantly. "Yeah?"

Wooyoung swallowed his nerves and forced a smile. "We should, uh, keep in touch. You know, while we're both here for Fashion Week."

San blinked, then smiled softly, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Yeah, we should. Here."

Wooyoung fumbled for his own phone, quickly opening his contacts as San handed over his. His fingers brushed against San's briefly, and he ignored the way his heart skipped at the brief touch.

They exchanged numbers, and Wooyoung couldn't help but grin as he saved San's contact. He hesitated for a moment before typing "San-ssi ✈️" as the name, earning a quiet laugh from San when he saw it.

"You haven't changed," San said, shaking his head with an amused smile.

"Maybe just a little," Wooyoung replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Wooyoung smiled and waved goodbye as he joined Yeosang and Seonghwa off the plane. A strange sense of anticipation settled in his chest, and he began looking forward to what Paris had in store for him.