Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 18: Maid to Order

The room they always used for meetings was technically a classroom, but it never felt like one. JL kept staring at the whiteboard, where some old math equations ghosted faintly behind Coach Yang's writing.

It was too warm. The air didn't move, except when the fan swung past every few seconds with a soft, wheezing tick. Somebody had spilled milk tea on the table the day before (it had dried sticky) and now JL's sleeve stuck to it every time he leaned too far forward.

Coach Yang had barely written the words "Cultural Festival Booth" on the whiteboard before the team devolved into a sea of competing voices, half-formed ideas, and increasingly wild suggestions.

Steven, arms crossed and tone far too confident, announced, "We should do a car wash."

A full second of silence.

Then, in unison, eight voices erupted: "NO."

Steven looked personally offended. "Why not? Everyone loves a car wash."

"You just want to wear a muscle shirt," said Woongki, flipping through a half-crumpled flyer from last year's festival booths. "Also, it's October. You want to be wet in a parking lot?"

"That might actually be part of the draw," Shuaibo murmured, drawing something in the margin of his notebook -- little frogs with sunglasses.

Kyungho, who always stretched during meetings for no reason, said, "We could do a gym booth. Flex and pose. People love dumb stuff."

Steven's eyes lit up. "Yes. That. With fake weights so everyone feels strong."

"We already feel strong," said Jeongwoo, tossing an eraser at Steven. "You're just trying to turn this into a protein ad."

"It's a good idea," Steven muttered. He crossed his arms. His shirt sleeves strained at the biceps. "You guys don't appreciate visual marketing."

There was a rustle of paper as someone tossed a pamphlet from last year's festival onto the table. It landed half-folded and upside down. 

Shuaibo, who was eating cereal out of a tupperware with a coffee stirrer, said, "We could do a café."

Everyone ignored him.

Until he added, "Like a maid café."

That got their attention.

JL glanced up.

"Wait, what?" Han said, rubbing one temple. His hair was still wet from showering, dark strands stuck to his cheek. "Like aprons and frills?"

"Exactly," said Shuaibo, eyes alight in a way that meant he'd been thinking about this longer than he should have.

JL opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then, quietly: "Is that even allowed?"

Shuaibo smiled. It was slow and gleeful, something better suited to a mad scientist in a lab. "Uniforms. Greetings. Performative politeness."

"Fanservice," Woongki translated, eyes lighting up.

Jeongwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. "This isn't a convention."

"It could be," Shuaibo said. "If we believe hard enough."

Woongki put his phone down solemnly. "I have been preparing for this moment my whole life."

Han looked at him. "I literally believe you."

"I have wigs," Woongki said, with frightening confidence. 

JL leaned forward, voice dangerously calm. "If you put a wig on me, I will suplex you through the counter."

"Hot," said Shuaibo, with zero hesitation.