Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jun lay on his bed, staring blankly at the plain ceiling above him. Earphones plugged into his ears played random songs from a playlist he didn’t even recognize. He had just hit shuffle and let the unfamiliar voices fill his head—anything was better than the suffocating silence. Boredom. Emptiness. Anger. All blended together like bitter coffee swallowed without sugar. Life had felt meaningless ever since the news broke: Thame would debut in Korea. Not just any news. It meant Thame had to leave their group. And if Thame left… Mars would disband.

Mars. The group he had fought for since his teenage years. The group that had been his only reason to survive the brutal trainee life—staying up late to practice vocals and dance, sweating until he collapsed in the training room, enduring all the criticism and pressure from the public. And now, all of it was hanging by a thread because of one person’s decision. Or more precisely, because of Pemika’s greed.

Jun scoffed bitterly. The word “destruction” felt too gentle to describe what was happening.

After the news spread, the members of Mars scattered like broken pieces. Pepper chose to stay with his boyfriend, Gam. Nano refused to stay in one place and decided to travel around Thailand, saying he was “looking for dance inspiration,” but Jun knew it was just an excuse to escape. And Dylan… oh, Dylan. He disappeared without a trace. No new social media updates, no texts, no word at all. Even though they often bickered, Dylan had always been there—at practice, at the dinner table, or just sitting quietly in the living room.

Now, Jun was alone.

He had returned to his parents' house a week ago. No long explanations, no warning. He had just stood at the door with a large suitcase and a dazed expression. His mother opened the door without asking, his father merely patted his shoulder, and his younger sibling brought him a glass of water. No one pressured him to talk. Just quiet warmth—and that made Jun want to cry… but he couldn’t.

He spent the whole week in his room. Sleeping, waking up, listening to music, rewatching old videos of them, then sleeping again. Occasionally, he would go to the kitchen when his stomach complained. His father would come in now and then just to check if he was still breathing. His mother would sit beside him and gently stroke his hair. His sibling… would only appear briefly at the door, stare at him in silence, and then walk away. Maybe afraid that staying too long would only make things worse. Now, it felt like his life was evaporating. Every plan, hope, and dream he had built over the years now felt like a sandcastle washed away by the tide.

Jun missed being busy. He longed for the days when he woke up early to a packed schedule: photoshoots, rehearsals, fanmeets, and more. He missed the kind of exhaustion that felt rewarding—not this kind of fatigue that made his body heavy even while lying down. He picked up his phone and looked at an old photo of the five of them. Mars, when they were still whole. Thame’s smiling face, Nano’s arm around Pepper’s shoulder, Dylan caught by the camera messing up Jun’s hair in annoyance—a moment staged for work. At a glance, they looked like a real family.

Jun shut his eyes tightly. If this was truly the end, he needed to know first: was there really nothing left to save? Was there truly nothing worth fighting for?

That morning, Jun resumed his monotonous routine, which had become his life for the past week. He took a morning shower without enthusiasm, ate breakfast only when the kitchen was empty of other family members, and then returned to his room. He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the curtains slightly to let in a faint light, and played random music that filled the room with sounds he didn’t quite understand. Occasionally, he rewatched old episodes of Mars—some he’d seen dozens of times, but he couldn’t seem to let go of them.

Amid the nearly suffocating boredom, Jun reached for his phone lying beside his pillow. His fingers touched the screen, opening Instagram. The first thing that appeared? Thame’s Story. Thame was seen in the practice room—the room they usually filled together. But this time, Thame was alone. He posted a video of himself dancing, without a caption, without an explanation, as if nothing had changed. As if Mars wasn’t falling apart. As if they were all still one.

Jun quickly averted his gaze before his emotions flared up again.

He switched to the X platform. At least there, he could read without having to watch. On the timeline, some fans were buzzing about the latest content from Mars uploaded by the agency: a new episode of their weekly reality show airing on YouTube. It had been recorded months ago, long before news of Thame going to Korea spread. Jun took a deep breath. Maybe… maybe Oner hadn’t completely abandoned them. Maybe there was still a glimmer of hope.

Then, among the fans’ posts, a random thread caught his attention.

I just want to share my experience when making a request to the princess, whether you believe it or not.

Jun furrowed his brow and began reading slowly.

At that time, my partner and I received news that the scholarship we wanted only accepted one student from our faculty due to budget cuts. We were confused, as we both desperately needed it. At that moment, I remembered the superstition my grandmother had told me about—that there was a princess who could grant our wishes. She was said to be by a pond with a temple, located in Chiang Mai. If we found her, we could make one request.

To be honest, after I told my boyfriend about it, he was a bit skeptical. Even though he believes in such superstitions, he didn’t believe this one. He said he’d never heard of it before. But I convinced him, saying, “The words of our ancestors couldn’t possibly be lies, especially since it’s my grandmother,” and eventually he believed me and agreed to search for the temple.

My grandmother said that the princess was once the daughter of a very powerful king. Her life was perfect for a girl of that time. Of course, she was the daughter of a king. But there was one major mistake the king believed his daughter had made: falling in love with a slave. When the king found out that his beloved princess loved a slave, he ordered an aide to behead the slave, intending to preserve the princess’s honor. But after the princess heard the tragic news of her beloved’s death, she took her own life. Her story became a legendary love story, and she eventually became a sacred being worshiped by everyone in her time.

Actually, this story has many versions, but the one my grandmother firmly believed in was this one. And to make a long story short, the two of us found the temple and asked for what we wanted. Surprisingly, two days later, we were called by our professor and told that the scholarship budget had been increased, and automatically, the two of us could receive the scholarship.

At first, I didn’t want to believe in such things, but after experiencing it myself, I began to believe.

I am truly grateful to the princess. And a little note: if you want to do this too, you must have a partner. If not… bad luck will haunt you every day.

Jun blinked. For a moment, he wanted to ignore it—it was too mystical, too unbelievable. But… for some reason, he read the thread from the beginning again. And for the first time that morning, he didn’t play any music. He just lay there, staring at the phone screen that displayed a post from an account with barely a six followers.

Only three likes. Just five views. But Jun felt like it was calling to him.

A wish? He had many. But… a partner?

Jun let out a long sigh. “No way,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s just superstition. Just some weird story someone threw on the internet, only seen by five people, including me.”

But even as his mind rejected the idea, his hands moved on their own. He opened his photo gallery, and once again, stared at an old picture of Mars—back when there were still five of them. His gaze sharpened. As if from the photo, the echoes of their old practice room returned to his head. Nano’s laughter, Pepper’s frustrated yelling whenever he forgot the choreography, Thame’s firm grip on his shoulder during training, and… Dylan. Always annoying, always sarcastic.

Jun ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Damn it,” he grumbled. “If I really want to try this weird ritual… I need a partner. But with who?!”

He started counting names in his mind.

“Pepper? No way, he already has a girlfriend. If I ask him, Gam would come yell at me. Nano? Off wandering around Thailand somewhere—maybe riding an elephant or sleeping under a waterfall. Thame? Oh, hell no. He’s the whole reason we’re in this mess.”

Jun scoffed. He went quiet for a moment, then narrowed his eyes as one name floated to the top of his mind.

“Dylan...”

Silence.

“Why does it HAVE to be Dylan?!” he suddenly shouted, almost yelling at the ceiling. He sat up, staring at his phone screen in horror. “We haven’t even texted since we left the Mars dorm. What the hell would I even say?”

He mock-typed in the air, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

‘Hey Dylan, want to come pray to a princess with me? It’s for Mars. If we wish together, maybe the group will come back.’

Jun threw himself back onto the bed and shoved a pillow over his face. “NO NO NO, HE’LL THINK I’M CRAZY AND RIDICULOUS AND... and he’s probably right.” He groaned in frustration. “But what else am I supposed to do?! I can’t just sit here. I can’t just let everything fall apart!”

Suddenly, a soft knock came from outside his door.

“Jun, are you okay?” his mother’s voice sounded concerned. Maybe because, for the first time in a week, Jun actually sounded alive—even if it was just yelling.

Jun hurriedly got up, fixed his hair, and replied, “I’m fine, Mom.”

“All right,” she responded briefly. But her footsteps didn’t move away right away. Jun could feel her still standing outside the door for a few seconds, as if unsure whether to come in or not. Then she finally left.

Jun stared up at the ceiling again. This time, his mind raced.

"If Dylan says no, then fine. But if he says yes… if he actually agrees… and if Mars can be saved…”

He exhaled. “Maybe… maybe a crazy idea isn’t the worst option right now.”

Slowly, he picked up his phone and opened a chat room that hadn’t been touched in a long time. The name ‘Dylan’ was still there. Their last message? A sarcastic sticker from Dylan after Jun canceled a late-night practice because he was sick.

Jun stared at the screen for a while. Then he typed,

Jun:
Dyl
Are you busy?

The moment Jun hit send, he immediately threw his phone onto the bed and quickly buried it under a pillow, as if the device could explode at any second.

“Oh my god…” he sighed, covering his face with both hands. His heart pounded wildly in his chest. Why was he so nervous?! Even he didn’t know. It was just Dylan—not a demon, not a killer professor—but it still felt like texting someone he’d ghosted for a whole year. But there was no denying it—he needed Dylan right now. No matter how often they fought, teased each other, or threw pillows around in the common room… Dylan was still part of Mars. An important part. And the only one left who could accompany him for this bizarre ritual.

Jun hadn’t even had time to take a deep breath when his phone vibrated violently beneath the pillow. His body froze. “Did he actually reply…” he whispered. Carefully, as if disarming a bomb, Jun pulled his phone back out and looked at the screen.

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Nah
What do you want? 😒

Jun froze. Then groaned and punched his pillow lightly. “Why does he always have to use that emoji…”

Dylan’s reply was so very Dylan: short, blunt, and annoying.

But one thing made Jun raise an eyebrow—Dylan replied. And fast, too. Even if his tone was snarky, it wasn’t a rejection. Jun stared at his phone screen for a long time, thinking hard about what to say next. He typed a few lines, then deleted them. Typed again, erased again. Everything sounded weird.

“Wanna go to Chiang Mai for a ritual?” = too honest.

“Do you believe in superstitions?” = too abrupt.

“I need your help for Mars.” = too intense.

Eventually, he typed a single simple sentence:

Jun:
I need to tell you something

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
???

Jun stared at the screen in silence, then took a deep breath and quickly typed:

Jun:
Let’s meet
There’s something I need to talk about
This is all for Mars

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Why not just tell me here?
Too much effort to meet you
Gross

Jun:
Screw you
I’m serious, Dylan
This is urgent

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Tch
Okay
Where are you?

Jun:
Huh?

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Idiot
I’m asking where you are
So I can come to you
Hurry up, I’m busy
Not like you

“Oh my god… Jun, calm down. Don’t throw your phone. Breathe. One, two, three,” he muttered, staring at Dylan’s last message—which somehow managed to sound annoying even when he was offering to help.

Jun:
I'm at my parents' house

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Okay

Jun:
You coming here?

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Yeah

Jun:
Where are you now?
If you’re in Bangkok, don’t bother coming
It’s too far
I’ll go to you

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Nah
Just wait there at your house

Jun:
Are you insane???

Dylan 🐈‍⬛💢:
Just realizing that now?

Jun stared at his phone screen in silence. His fists clenched. He felt a strong urge to scream—or maybe punch a pillow again. But instead, he shut his eyes tightly, biting down on his tongue just to stay sane.

"Okay, he’s coming. Jun, please… please don’t punch his face. Or curse at him. Or do anything that might start a fight. This is important. And this is all for Mars."

He placed his phone on the desk, got up from the bed, and started pacing like a restless soul. His mind ran through a thousand scenarios—ranging from Dylan walking in with a stupid remark like “Your room smells like old mattress,” to him laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the princess’s ritual. But beneath all the anxiety, there was one thing Jun knew for sure—Dylan would come. Somehow, among all the members of Mars, Dylan was the most reliable when things truly went south… even if he had the most annoying mouth in the universe. And for the first time in the past week, Jun felt… something was about to shift.

He opened his wardrobe. Looked for a decent hoodie. Combed his hair. Not too neat, but enough to avoid looking like a zombie freshly risen from emotional coma.

“All right,” he whispered to his reflection in the mirror. “Get it together. Dylan’s coming. And you… WILL NOT punch him. No matter what happens.”

──── ୨୧ ────

It took a few hours before Dylan finally arrived. It was already past eleven, the sun nearly at its peak, and sounds from the kitchen hinted that lunchtime was just around the corner. Jun was still pacing in his room, trying to calm himself down and figure out how to explain everything without sounding completely insane.

Outside, with no sound of a car or any message notification, the doorbell rang.

And to Jun’s mother’s surprise, when she opened the door, a young man was standing there—slightly messy hair, a familiar gray hoodie, and that same lazy expression she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. Is Jun home?” Dylan asked shortly, but politely.

“Dylan?” she gasped softly, eyes widening. “Oh my goodness, what are you doing all the way out here? You must be exhausted after such a long trip! Come in, come in.” She immediately grabbed Dylan’s arm and pulled him inside, as if welcoming her own son back home.

“Would you like something to drink, dear? I’ll get it for you.”

“Anything’s fine, Ma’am.”

“All right, give me a moment. I’ll call Jun, too. He’s been holed up in his room for a week now—barely comes out. I’m starting to worry he’s not getting enough sunlight.” She chuckled lightly and made her way to the kitchen.

Dylan nodded and chuckled as well, now seated on the living room sofa that felt oddly familiar.

His eyes scanned the room. Not much had changed. It still looked the same as the last time he and the other Mars members visited—whether for Jun’s parents’ anniversary or his little sister’s 16th birthday. Faint memories resurfaced as he looked at the family photos on the wall—little Jun in his father’s arms, his sister grinning in front of a birthday cake, even one picture they all took together during an overnight stay years ago.

He barely noticed the familiar voice that spoke beside him.

“Handsome, aren’t I?” Jun stood next to the sofa, arms crossed, smirking.

Dylan jumped, startled. “Shit! You scared the crap outta me!”

Jun just shrugged casually. “That’s your heart problem, not mine.”

“Asshole,” Dylan muttered, trying to catch his breath.

“Come on. Let’s talk in my room.” Jun was already turning toward the stairs.

“Why not here? It’s more chill. I just sat down.”

“Because this... needs privacy. My family can’t know.” Jun paused, glancing back. “Hurry up.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow and got up reluctantly. “Tch. You’re such a pain.”

Jun turned slightly, his expression suddenly serious. “Remember, Dylan. This is for Mars.”

Dylan held back a sarcastic comment. Because even though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he could feel something urgent in the way Jun was acting today. And of course, he didn’t want Mars to actually fall apart.

“Okay,” he muttered. “But if this turns into some kind of exorcism ritual or something, I’m out.”

Jun only grinned. “Relax. It’s not an exorcism. But it might be... slightly weirder.”

Dylan scoffed. “Good.”

“All right,” Dylan leaned back against the chair in Jun’s room. “So, what’s so important that you dragged me all the way here?”

Jun let out a deep sigh and stared at Dylan with a blank expression. “Can you wait a second? We literally just sat down five seconds ago.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Dylan raised his hands in mock surrender, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “Seriously though, everything about you screams you missed me.”

“Asshole,” Jun muttered, rubbing his temples.

He sat up straight, inhaled again like he was about to deliver an important speech to his people. “Okay. Let’s get this started. But let me warn you—don’t interrupt until I’m done, and DO NOT laugh at me.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I can try not to interrupt. But... not laughing...” He grinned. “No promises.”

“Dylan.”

“Alright, alright. I’m serious now.” He sat up straighter, trying to keep a neutral face even as the corners of his mouth twitched.

Jun took a third, even longer breath, then began. “So, this morning, I was bored and scrolling through X, and I found this random thread. It was about superstitions. About a princess from the old days who was said to grant wishes to anyone who came to her... as a couple.”

Dylan didn’t say anything, but his eyes clearly said: Do I seriously have to listen to this?

Jun ignored the look and continued. “They say the princess fell in love with a servant. But the king didn’t approve, so he had the servant killed. And because of that, the princess killed herself. Since then, her spirit is believed to grant one wish to every couple that comes to her sincerely... and in sync.”

Silence. Jun stared directly at Dylan. “And I thought... what if we try it?”

Dylan frowned. “Wait, you actually believe in that stuff?”

“I do!” Jun replied quickly, his eyes shining. “I don’t know what else to believe in, Dylan. Everyone’s given up. Thame’s gone. Nano’s God knows where. Pepper’s busy being an MC. Everyone has been wrapped up in their own world for the past week. And you? You disappeared too. And Mars…”

Jun hugged his knees, looking down. His voice softened. “I can’t just sit here. And if there’s one thing—anything—that could save Mars, even if it’s a superstition… I’m willing to try.”

Dylan was still quiet, then raised an eyebrow. “So you’re basically asking me... to be your fake boyfriend? Go to some temple and wish for Mars not to disband?”

Jun nodded firmly. “Yes. So Dylan—the most annoying groupmate I’ve ever known—I’m asking you to be my fake boyfriend for this ridiculous ritual, so we can ask for Mars to survive, break free from Pemika, and become a massive success without agency help.”

Dylan stared at Jun for a long time. A very long time. Then he leaned back, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t say a word.

Jun felt his heartbeat spike. Was this the moment Dylan would laugh? Mock him? Walk out?

But no.

Dylan lowered his hands. And said quietly, “If we’re gonna pretend to be a couple, you’re bringing me breakfast every morning.”

Jun blinked. “Huh?”

“And no being dramatic in public. Don’t randomly hug me and go, ‘Babe, does this look good on us?’ or some shit.”

“So... you’re agreeing?”

Dylan sighed. “Jun, I don’t believe in superstitions. But I do believe... if you’re going this far, then you must really be desperate. And if this helps stop Mars from falling apart...” He looked Jun straight in the eyes. “I’m in.”

Jun nearly jumped out of his seat. “I promise I won’t randomly hug you.”

“You’d better not,” Dylan muttered, standing up. “I’m still sane. Hopefully, you are too.”

Jun fought back the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe—for the first time in the past week—he had hope again.

Not long after that absurd agreement was made, the aroma of home-cooked food began to fill the entire house. Lunchtime had arrived. Jun’s mother, with the enthusiasm only a mom welcoming her "second son" could have, greeted Dylan with full excitement.

“Dylan, you have to eat first before you two start talking nonsense again,” she said while piling rice onto Dylan’s plate without asking. “Look at you, you’ve lost weight! You haven’t been eating properly, have you?”

Dylan just smiled faintly, unable to resist the overly familiar warmth. “No, Ma’am. This is already more than enough.”

“Don’t be shy if you want more! Take some more side dishes. You’re like family to me, you know.”

Across the table, Jun could only glare silently as he spooned rice into his mouth. Great. Dylan was officially the favorite child in this house now…

After the meal, Dylan tried to excuse himself and head home—but was immediately stopped by Jun’s mother.

“Just stay the night, will you? Why go back and forth? You’ll be tired from the drive. Besides, I’d worry if you’re out there driving alone.” Though he hesitated at first, Dylan finally nodded. “Okay, Ma’am. Thank you.”

And now… the result of that "kindness" was Dylan lying comfortably on Jun’s bed, one hand behind his head, completely relaxed. Meanwhile, Jun was stranded on the floor below, curled up on a thin carpet with a blanket and hugging a bolster.

“Seriously, Dyl… come on. Don’t you feel even a little bit sorry for me? That’s my bed, you know…”

Dylan glanced down from his pillow, unfazed. “Nope.”

Jun looked up, eyes pleading. “Please, Dyl. Just half of it. I promise I don’t snore. I even showered.”

Dylan pulled the blanket higher. “Jun, you’re loud. Go to sleep. We’re heading to Chiang Mai tomorrow morning.”

Jun groaned loudly, then buried his face in the bolster. “I regret asking you. I should’ve asked Nano instead…”

“Be my guest. But now, sleep. You’re driving, remember?” Dylan replied flatly.

Jun went silent. Then lightly punched the carpet. “Asshole.”

A few seconds passed in silence. Then...

“Dyl?”

“Hm?”

“If we’re actually gonna pretend to be a couple in front of people… do you think you can handle it?”

“I’ve handled you this long, Jun. Trust me, fake dating you is a walk in the park compared to listening to your daily complaints.”

Jun let out a small laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“Sleep, Jun.”

“Yes, babe.”

“Say that again and I’ll actually kick you.”

And the night continued in silence. Jun didn’t even realize that—though everything was just “pretend”—for the first time in a week, he was finally able to sleep a little more peacefully.

──── ୨୧ ────

Early in the morning—before the sunlight had fully slipped through the curtains—Jun was already fussing over his small black suitcase. The sound of zippers, hastily folded clothes, and his restless footsteps filled the room, as if he were about to leave the country for an entire month.

In the corner, Dylan sat with half his face buried in Jun’s bean bag, stirring a mug of hot coffee gifted by Jun’s ever-loving mother.

“Drink this before the long trip, sweetheart,” she had said warmly, slipping a biscuit into Dylan’s hand like he was about to take a national exam.

Dylan took a slow sip and let out a long sigh. “You’re just going to Chiang Mai, not moving abroad. We’re literally just going to light some incense, say a prayer, and come back. Why the hell are you packing like you’ve committed a mortal sin?”

Jun turned with perfect calm, then triumphantly placed a matching set of hoodies into the suitcase and zipped it closed. “Couple outfits,” he said casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dylan slowly turned his head. “WHAT?”

Jun pointed at the suitcase with a serious expression. “If we’re gonna fake being a couple, we have to commit. No couple outfits? You think the princess ghost is gonna fall for half-assed love?”

Dylan nearly choked on his coffee. “Jun, we’re faking a relationship in front of… a dead princess. During a prayer. There’s no need for a whole damn wardrobe plan!”

Now sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, Jun patted the suitcase like it was a treasure chest. “Dylan, the key here is energy. The princess needs to feel the love vibes between us. The chemistry. If our vibe’s dry, she might not believe in our wish.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You think she’s a survival show judge?”

Jun shot back immediately, “Worse. She’s a ‘judge’ who can grant our wish—if we look like a desperate couple who are madly in love.”

Dylan fell silent. Okay… that actually kind of made sense. In Jun’s twisted logic, at least.

Jun continued, “And one more thing—it’s a five-hour drive to Chiang Mai, minimum. That’s if we don’t hit traffic. I’m not driving all the way back right after. We’re staying the night to rest. Plus, if something does happen at the shrine, we’ll be too shaken to drive home.”

Dylan gave him a blank stare. “No. We take turns driving. We head back the same day. I’m not staying overnight in a strange town, especially not after messing with ghosts.”

Jun grinned wide, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Babe, I’m worried you’ll get too tired driving. So we have to rest at a hotel first, okay?”

“Call me ‘babe’ again and I swear I’ll throw you onto the freeway,” Dylan warned, raising his mug.

“Don’t care,” Jun replied coolly. “Point is—we’re staying overnight. Period.”

Dylan shook his head, surrendering to the madness of the morning. He stared at Jun for a moment, then downed the last of his now lukewarm coffee.

“Why the hell am I even doing this crazy shit with you…”

Jun looked at him, this time with a softer smile, free of sarcasm. “Because you care.”

That made Dylan pause. He stared at his empty mug for a beat, his heart skipping just slightly.

“...You bastard,” he muttered quickly, trying to shake off the moment. But Jun just laughed, thoroughly satisfied.

And with that—the suitcase was locked, the coffee was gone, and the trip to Chiang Mai was about to begin.

After saying goodbye to Jun’s parents—with hugs, endless advice, and a plastic bag full of snacks they’d probably never eat—Jun and Dylan finally hit the road toward Chiang Mai. The clock struck exactly 9 a.m. as the car rolled out of the driveway. Jun’s parents didn’t ask much about their destination; they simply repeated, “Drive safely,” and “Don’t speed,” over and over—completely unaware that their son and his bandmate were heading off to perform a ritual at a shrine rumored to be haunted by a princess from centuries ago.

The long drive was unusually quiet.

Unlike his usual talkative self, Jun said very little. He was glued to his phone, occasionally checking the map and swiping through screenshots—directions to the shrine he had saved from a mysterious X thread that started this whole thing.

Dylan, in the passenger seat, held his own phone and scrolled through playlists, connecting to the car’s Bluetooth. His music choices played softly in the background—the third song by Cigarettes After Sex had just ended, leaving behind a subtle silence that somehow felt heavier than it should’ve.

“So this shrine’s really by a lake?” Dylan finally asked, glancing at Jun.

Jun nodded, eyes still on his phone. “Yeah. Real small, apparently hidden. Behind a big tree, near some kind of pond or small lake.”

Dylan exhaled deeply and leaned his head back against the car’s ceiling. “Sounds great. Can’t wait to act all lovey-dovey while being surrounded by the scent of death.”

Jun smirked faintly. “So romantic, right?”

Dylan scoffed. “Totally. Let’s just hope that thread wasn’t written by some bored scammer preying on desperate kids.”

Jun nodded slowly. “Yeah… let’s hope they were being honest.”

"Wait,” Dylan turned sharply to him. “So you didn’t actually confirm anything?”

Silence.

Jun stared straight ahead, his right hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than before.

“Jun?” Dylan repeated, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Jun finally replied, so softly it was almost inaudible. “Only three people liked the tweet… including me.”

Dylan blinked, mouth slightly open. “Three???”

Jun shrugged. “What matters is the energy, Dyl. The vibe.”

Dylan ran a hand down his face, as if wiping away the last remnants of sanity. “If I get killed by a ghost because of some bargain-bin thread, you better take responsibility all the way to my grave.”

“I’ll probably be buried with you,” Jun muttered.

The car continued climbing the winding road. Trees grew denser, phone signal began to vanish from Jun’s screen, and the fourth track—an instrumental piece—filled the lingering silence between them. Whether it was the mountain air or something else entirely, the cabin felt colder than it had before.

The journey had only just begun.

And neither of them knew… that the ritual was merely the first door—to something they could never take back.

The long drive took them through small towns, and by late afternoon, they began entering unfamiliar hilly terrain. The roads grew narrower, and the phone signal started to weaken.

“Is this really the right road?” Dylan asked, glancing around. “Because this is starting to feel like a Thai horror movie.”

“Google Maps says it’s the fastest route,” Jun replied, though his voice held a trace of doubt.

Tall trees loomed on either side of the road, their shadows casting strange shapes across the windshield. The air grew colder, and for some reason, the silence thickened. Even the sound of insects felt distant.

“I’m starting to regret this,” Dylan muttered.

“I’ve been regretting it since you stole my bed.”

Suddenly, the signal dropped completely. Their digital map froze, and the location marker stopped moving.

“Jun… don’t tell me we’re lost.”

Jun stared hard at his screen. “No way. We were just supposed to turn left… or was it right?”

“Oh my god.”

They pulled over on the deserted road. Not a single car had passed in the last hour. Jun stepped out of the car to check for signs—but all he found was an old wooden board, scratched and weathered, with no legible text.

As he walked a bit farther, Dylan followed him out, and the two stood still, gazing past the bamboo trees. In the distance, just visible through the thinning forest, was a lake—its surface blanketed by a thin mist. And faintly, almost hidden… a small wooden structure stood at the edge of the land.

“Don’t tell me that’s the shrine,” Dylan said quietly.

Jun didn’t answer. He just started walking.

The air grew colder. The silence so sharp that even the sound of a twig snapping felt intrusive. Each step they took seemed accompanied by whispers in the wind… or something even more elusive.

As they neared the wooden structure, a crow suddenly flew overhead, cawing sharply—making Dylan flinch and jump back.

“Okay, that was cliché. Still scared the hell out of me,” he muttered.

Jun stared at the small shrine. Old. Nearly collapsing.
“Dyl,” Jun said softly.

“Hm?”

“You sure… we’re ready for this?”

Dylan looked at him—serious for the first time since they got out of the car.

“I don’t know. But we’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

Jun nodded slowly.

And together, they stepped toward the shrine.

In front of the shrine—lonely, abandoned, and nearly swallowed by nature—the air felt heavier. Jun and Dylan stood at the threshold, staring at the moss-covered wooden building wrapped in creeping vines. The fog thickened, cloaking the lake behind it in an eerie gloom.

There was no sound but the whispering wind and their footsteps on damp earth. Dylan felt his limbs grow heavier, as if something unseen was holding him back. As they stepped further into the shrine, Jun felt a chill sweep across his skin, like invisible fingers gripping him tightly.

Jun moved slowly toward the doorway, scanning the surroundings. “This is it, Dyl…,” he whispered. “This is the place.”

Dylan stood behind him, arms crossed, mouth curved in a skeptical smirk. “This place looks more like a horror movie set than a place for wish-granting.”

Jun smirked. “If it actually works, would you film a romantic scene with me? As my fake boyfriend?”

Dylan gave him a deadpan look. “You’re still joking in a place like this? You’re insane.”

Jun chuckled, but the laugh faded as he rummaged through the small bag he carried. And then—silence.

“…The incense…” he muttered, digging faster. “Crap. I left it in the car.”

Dylan shot him a sharp look. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jun gave a sheepish laugh and stood up. “Relax. I’ll get it. Just wait here.”

“Jun, seriously? This place is creepy as hell…”

“What, you scared?”

“I’m not scared. I’m cautious!”

Jun gave him a light pat on the shoulder before stepping back. “I’ll run. Be quick.”

“Jun, Junnnn—damn it!”

But Jun had already turned and jogged back toward the car parked a few hundred meters away, hidden behind a grove of bamboo trees—leaving Dylan alone in front of the dimly lit shrine, his only light source the glow of his phone flashlight.

Dylan swallowed hard, standing awkwardly while glancing around. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, fallen leaves crunching softly like tiny footsteps. He pointed his light into the shrine but quickly looked away. The shadows on the wooden walls seemed to shift… as if something was watching.

He took a deep breath, trying to slow his heartbeat.

“Just a few minutes. He’s just getting the incense. Nothing’s gonna happen,” he muttered. “I’ve filmed in scarier places than this…”

Then suddenly, from inside the shrine, came a sound. Knocking.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Dylan froze.

"Jun?”

Silence.

His phone flashlight flickered once… then went out.

“Oh no—seriously? Not now. Come on!”

And then he heard it.

A whisper. Soft. Very close. As if someone was standing right behind him.

“Dyyy…lan…”

Dylan spun around—but no one was there. His breath caught in his throat. The flashlight turned back on by itself, beam shining straight into the shrine.

And there—in a flash—he saw the figure of a woman sitting with her back to him, frozen like a statue, dressed in elaborate, old-fashioned clothing.

The light went out again.

“JUN!” Dylan shouted, voice cracking in panic. “Jun! Junnn!!!”

Jun, rushing back with the incense in hand, gasped when he heard Dylan’s scream.

“Dylan?! What happened?!” he called out, running faster.

When he arrived, he found Dylan crouched in front of the shrine, trembling violently, arms wrapped around his knees, face pale and eyes wide with shock.

“Dyl… Dylan! Breathe! Hey, breathe!” Jun dropped the incense and knelt beside him, reaching for his shoulder.

Dylan shook his head slowly, his mouth open but no words came. It was like his tongue couldn’t form the horror he had just seen.

“There was—there was someone in there. I saw her. She said my name…”

Jun swallowed hard and slowly turned toward the shrine entrance.

It was empty.

But the chill in the air lingered, clinging to their skin. As if something inside had just been awakened.

Jun exhaled shakily and wrapped his arms around Dylan.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Dylan didn’t respond. But Jun could tell the embrace was anchoring him, keeping him from spiraling further into fear.

A few minutes later, once Dylan had calmed enough to speak, Jun picked up the incense he had dropped. Their hands met and clutched tightly. The moonlight spilled into the wooden shrine, and for a moment… Jun felt a pair of unseen eyes watching them.

“You still sure about doing this?”

He gripped Dylan’s hand tighter.

“I’m sure,” he whispered. “We have to.”

After that… there were no more jokes.

Jun and Dylan shared a single, quiet look—long enough to confirm they were both ready, despite the uneasy air hanging around them.

The shrine had no door. They stepped inside, bringing a few sticks of incense and a lighter. The interior was bare—just a simple wooden altar draped in a faded cloth, a small ceramic bowl holding the remnants of old ashes, and two candles long since extinguished.

Jun knelt first. Dylan followed, hesitantly.

They didn’t know what to pray. There were no clear instructions—just a vague line from the thread Jun had read: “Ask with a sincere heart.”

Jun lit the incense, the flame flickering to life in the still air. In the silence that followed, he spoke softly.

“Princess… whoever you are. We didn’t come here to mock or test your legend. We came because we want to save something important to us—Mars. Our group.”

He stared at the slow burn of the incense before planting it carefully in the bowl.

“We just want to stay together. To keep going. Without Pemika, without pressure, just the five of us… and real happiness.”

His voice trembled slightly, but he didn’t stop.

“Please… grant our wish.”

Dylan stared at the glowing tip of the incense, its smoke curling gently upward with a faint scent of cinnamon and dried jasmine. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually believed in—but when he looked at Jun, so full of hope, something shifted.

He bowed his head a little, closed his eyes.

“If someone really is listening… help us. Just this once.”

They fell silent for a few seconds, letting the incense fill the small shrine with its soft fragrance. No voices. No gusts of wind. No moving shadows.

Just quiet.

“…We done?” Dylan whispered.

Jun nodded.

Without looking back, they rose and exited the shrine, walking slowly down the narrow path outside. The night resumed its stillness. Crickets chirped quietly from the underbrush. Nothing seemed unusual.

But—

Once their footsteps faded from the shrine’s vicinity, the candles they had left unlit… slowly ignited.

One by one.
Without fire.
Without wind.
Without a sound.

The gentle flames danced atop the old wicks, as if something had arrived.

And in the darkest corner of the shrine, a faint silhouette of a woman stood behind the altar—facing the exit.

Facing the direction they had gone.

Along the narrow trail they followed, the cold crept in slowly, piercing through their jackets and sneaking up their necks. The night air seemed to grip their throats, sending shivers that raised goosebumps. Old branches above swayed in the wind, occasionally creaking like distant whispers. Jun pulled his jacket tighter, silently cursing himself for not parking closer—forcing them to walk all this way under the pale glow of the moon.

The flashlights from their phones were their only source of light. The beams danced across shrubs and tree trunks, enough to guide them… but not enough to make the path feel any less unsettling.

After the ritual was done and they made it back to the car—completely unaware that the candles on the altar had mysteriously re-lit themselves—Jun immediately slipped into the driver’s seat.

Dylan frowned at him. “Jun, what are you doing? I was driving earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. You sleep,” Jun replied, starting the engine.

Dylan eyed him, exhausted. “You haven’t rested at all. Come on, let’s switch.”

Jun exhaled softly, eyes fixed on the darkening road ahead. “Seriously, Dyl. It’s fine. I’d rather drive than just sit here overthinking everything.”

Dylan didn’t respond right away. There was a pause—like he was weighing his options—but he knew arguing with Jun now would only start another pointless fight. So in the end, he gave in, albeit reluctantly.

“Tch. Fine. But promise me—if you start feeling sleepy, you wake me up.”

Jun gave a crooked smile, still looking ahead. “Yes, babe.”

In response, Dylan raised his hand and flipped him off before slumping into the passenger seat. He yanked on his seatbelt, leaned back, and closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath, “I hope that princess ghost grants our wish so I never have to deal with your melodrama again.”

Jun chuckled softly as he stepped on the pedal. The engine purred, and the car began to roll forward—leaving the shrine behind, once again wrapped in silence.

The drive back continued in silence, filled only by the soft melodies from Dylan’s playlist—this time featuring his favorite band that he always listened to. The melancholic vocals blended with delicate guitar strums, creating a calm atmosphere that almost felt deceptive, given that the world outside the windows was nothing but a dark forest and an endless, empty road.

Jun glanced at Dylan. The faint glow from the dashboard lit up the side of his face, and though his eyes were fixed ahead, Jun could tell he was deep in thought.

“Dyl,” he called softly, “let’s stop for a bit. We haven’t had dinner. Our last meal was back at lunch.”

Dylan immediately turned to him, frowning. “You wanna stop in the middle of this forest? Empty road, pitch black, not a single car around, and now you’re talking about eating? Jun, are you sane?”

Jun responded with a small smile and began slowing down. “It’s safe, I promise. We’re eating inside the car, not getting out. I’m starving, seriously—my hands are shaking.” He then glanced over again and pretended to tremble his hands on the steering wheel, activating his ultimate move: the puppy-dog eyes.

Dylan groaned and turned to look out the window, feeling the warmth rise in his cheeks.

“So is that a yes?” Jun asked sweetly.

“Tch…” Dylan let out a long sigh. “This is why I said I should drive. You could’ve just eaten while I handled the road.”

“It’s no fun eating alone. Come on, let’s eat together. You haven’t eaten either, right? Don’t tell me you’re planning to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Dylan didn’t reply, but a moment later, Jun had already pulled over. They stopped on a wide enough shoulder of the road, surrounded by trees shivering in the night wind. The cabin light came on, casting a soft glow that lit the small space without being too harsh. Jun leaned his seat back slightly and reached for two food boxes from the back.

“You always forget to eat when you’re alone.” Jun handed Dylan a box while staying in his seat. “But when you’re with me, I won’t let you. Don’t make a habit of getting sick, Dyl.”

Dylan took the box silently. A faint smile tugged at his lips—barely visible, but Jun caught it, and that was enough to make him pause for a second.

“Thanks,” Dylan muttered.

Jun blinked. It was rare to hear Dylan say thank you so sincerely. Rarer still to see him lower his head like that—and if Jun wasn’t colorblind, he’d swear there was a blush on Dylan’s cheeks. Without saying a word, Jun quickly took his first bite to diffuse the moment—something had suddenly become too warm in his chest.

They ate in silence, accompanied only by the soft music from the car speakers and the occasional breeze rustling the trees outside. Truly, the atmosphere was too quiet for a place this remote and deserted. Even the nighttime creatures seemed reluctant to make a sound.

Dylan slowly woke up, his eyelids half-open as he blinked, adjusting to the dim glow of the car’s cabin light. The engine was off, and the faint scent of gasoline lingered in the air. As his awareness returned, he realized they had stopped. He lifted his head slowly, eyes scanning their surroundings. The car was parked in a small rest area, with only one or two other vehicles in the distance. The streetlights flickered a pale yellow, casting an unusual sense of stillness across the night.

“Jun…”

His voice was hoarse, prompting Jun—seated in the driver’s seat—to glance back briefly as he reached for his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“Hmm? Why don’t you go back to sleep? You woke up because we stopped, huh?”

Dylan shook his head, yawning softly as he sat upright. “No… I’m not sleepy anymore. What time is it?”
His voice was still groggy, like a kid waking up from a nap.

Jun glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. “A little past eleven. You slept pretty well. I’m just stepping out for a bit—to the restroom, and I’ll refuel while I’m at it.”

Dylan rubbed his neck and gave a small nod before mumbling, “I’ll come…”

Jun raised an eyebrow, half confused and half amused. Dylan’s voice was so soft, almost a whisper. There was a strangely tender tone to it. Is this what he’s like when he first wakes up? Jun wondered. Or has he always been like this and just never showed it?

“You sure? Usually you hate leaving the car when it’s cold.”

Dylan avoided his gaze, slowly opening the door. “I just… don’t want to be alone. Besides, rest stop bathrooms are creepy at this hour.”

Jun chuckled, stepping out first and holding the door open. “Wow. Dylan’s afraid of restrooms. Noted.”

“Not afraid, dumbass. Just cautious,” Dylan replied quickly, pulling his hoodie over his head.
But even the dim light couldn’t hide the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

They walked side by side through the quiet rest area. The streetlights above cast long shadows on the asphalt, and the chill of the night air seeped into their bones. For some reason, the silence felt… off.

Jun shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, glancing sideways. “You need to use the restroom too?”

“No. I’ll wait outside. Just hurry, in case a zombie jumps out of the bushes.”

“What kind of movies do you even watch…” Jun muttered as he stepped into the small restroom building.

Dylan stood alone under the lamppost. The night breeze brushed his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the cold—and the strange feeling that someone was watching from afar.

Jun eventually returned, shaking his hands dry, a relieved look on his face. But when he reached Dylan, who was still standing under the streetlight, his steps slowed slightly.

“Dyl, why are you zoning out like that?” he asked.

Dylan turned quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Jun chuckled softly. “Alright then, let’s refuel and get moving.”

They got back in the car. Jun started the engine and drove toward the lone gas pump at the edge of the rest area. There was no attendant—self-service. Jun stepped out and began refueling. Dylan stayed inside but cracked the window, watching Jun under the dim light.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, fluttering Jun’s hoodie. Dylan squinted—he thought he saw a shadow shift beside the pump, something quick and low. But when he looked again, there was nothing. Just silence.

“Jun,” he called out.

“Hmm?” Jun glanced back, still holding the fuel nozzle.

“Hurry up. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Jun shot him a “seriously?” look but didn’t get a chance to respond, because a faint bell chime echoed from inside the rest stop’s minimarket—even though its lights were off and the door had been locked earlier.

They both turned toward the sound.

Dylan swallowed. “You heard that, right?”

Jun nodded slowly, quickly pulling the nozzle out and sealing the tank. “Let’s go.”

Once they were back in the car with the engine running, silence hung between them. Neither spoke. Jun stared into the rearview mirror while Dylan kept his eyes on the passenger-side window.

“Did you see anything just now, Dyl?” Jun asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. When you were refueling, I think something was… watching from behind the pump.”

Jun felt a chill run down his spine. “Are you sure?”

Dylan turned to him, expression serious. “I thought it was just my imagination. But you heard the sound from inside the store too, didn’t you?”

The car rolled out of the rest area and back onto the main road. The streetlights grew scarcer, and only their headlights cut through the blackness of night.

After nearly two hours of driving along the deserted roads from the rest area, Jun’s car finally turned into the lot of a small guesthouse on the outskirts of Chiang Mai. The place wasn’t large—just five rooms lined in a row, with a small garden out front and a dimly lit reception building.

“You sure this is the place?” Dylan asked, squinting at the old wooden building, its walls lined with woven bamboo and worn-out lanterns.

Jun nodded. “I booked it this morning. This was the only place left for the night.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Jun? This isn’t a guesthouse—it’s a haunted house.”

“It’s late, Dyl. We’re only staying one night. We’re heading back first thing in the morning. Relax.”

They stepped out of the car and grabbed their luggage. Their footsteps echoed on the gravel path as crickets chirped faintly in the background, carried by the chilly night breeze.

As they reached the front of their room—Room 3—Dylan suddenly stopped.

“Jun…”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a candle... lit in front of our door,” Dylan said quietly.

Jun turned to look. Sure enough, a small candle sat in a clay holder beside their door, its flame flickering weakly—despite the strong wind from earlier. None of the other rooms had a lit candle; all were dark.

They exchanged glances.

“Maybe the staff lit it,” Jun said, trying to sound calm as he quickly unlocked the door.

Their room was simple. Two single beds, a small table, and a large mirror hanging above an old wooden dresser. No air conditioner—just a ceiling fan slowly spinning overhead.

But what sent a shiver down Dylan’s spine was the faint scent of incense lingering in the air… even though they hadn’t lit anything yet.

“Jun…”

“I smell it too,” Jun whispered, his face now visibly pale.

They fell silent.

Dylan dropped his bag and quickly pulled up the blanket on one of the beds. “I’m sleeping. We’re getting up at five. Don’t do anything weird tonight, Jun.”

Jun turned toward him, forcing a grin. “You scared?”

“No. I just… want to finish this stupid mission already.”

Jun knew he was lying. Dylan was scared. So was he. But neither of them wanted to admit it—that the atmosphere of the room made it hard to breathe. And that large mirror facing the beds felt like it was watching them.

When they turned off the lights and lay down, Jun kept his eyes open. He stared at the ceiling—and that’s when he realized...

The candle outside should’ve gone out when they opened the door. But the soft glow of its flame was still visible from beneath the door.