Present day, at around 5 a.m.
The dorm living room rarely contained all seven members at the same time anymore. Their schedules had become increasingly individual, with sub-unit activities and solo projects keeping them scattered across Seoul on any given day. But tonight, they sprawled across couches and floor cushions, surrounded by empty ramyeon bowls and soju bottles.
"I still can't believe we have three months off," Julian said, his perpetual energy finally dimmed by exhaustion. "What does that even feel like?"
"Like a trap," Silas muttered, though he had finally put his phone away.
Jon opened another bottle of soju, carefully pouring for each member but Vic. "Remember when we fantasized about free time during training? All the things we said we'd do?"
"Sleep for a week," Jake recalled with a laugh.
"Visit my parents without cameras," James added.
"Date," Vic said softly, and a strange silence fell over the room.
Roman cleared his throat. "Speaking of which... whatever happened to your high school girlfriend, Vic?"
Vic's expression clouded. "She waited two years. Then, I realized waiting indefinitely wasn't much of a life."
"That's rough," Jon said sympathetically.
"It was the right decision," Vic shrugged, but his typically enigmatic eyes betrayed old pain. "This life isn't compatible with relationships."
"My cousin got married last month," James said suddenly. "He's two years younger than I. The invitation came with a plus-one, and I realized I had no one to bring." The admission hung in the air, unexpectedly heavy.
"When was the last time we went on a proper date?" Julian asked, looking around the circle. Silence fell over the room as the members exchanged looks.
Silas cleared his throat. "I had coffee with that composer last year..."
"That was a business meeting," Jon corrected unabashedly.
"Oh." Silas blinked. "Right."
"I think I last dated someone... before debut?" Vic
offered.
"Passing notes in high school isn't dating," Roman laughed.
Jake's eyes widened. "Wait, have none of us had a real relationship other than with each other and our puppies? Ever?" The silence hung, heavier this time.
"We've been a little busy," Silas deadpanned, gesturing around the dorm.
"Learning choreo..." added Julian.
"Writing lyrics...," said Roman.
"Filming content..." James continued.
"Performing concerts..." Vic chimed in.
"Traveling the world..." Jake said.
Jon sat up straight. "We're seven grown men who don't know how to date."
"Is that... a problem?" Jake asked.
The dorm door opened, and Manager Kando entered, immediately sensing the unusual atmosphere. "Everything okay? You all look like you've seen a ghost."
Roman, ever the spokesperson, cleared his throat. "We just realized something about ourselves."
"We don't know how to date!" blurted Julian.
Manager Kando's eyes widened, and then he burst into laughter. When no one joined in, he stopped. "Wait, you're serious?"
Seven heads nodded solemnly.
"Well, the company's dating ban was lifted last year for members over twenty-five," Manager Kando said slowly, as if explaining to children. "So technically, most of you could date."
"It's not about permission," Roman explained. "It's about ability."
"We don't know how," Jon clarified. "We've spent every waking moment since adulthood becoming C7."
Manager Kando looked genuinely perplexed. "So... what? You want dating lessons?"
"Maybe we should use this break to learn," suggested Julian, enthusiasm returning. "Director Blake said to grow as people, right?"
"I don't think he meant dating," Manager Kando began.
"It's perfect!" James interrupted. "We're always singing love songs we haven't experienced."
"Our performances could be more sincere," Roman reasoned, always thinking of the group's artistic integrity.
"And we're not getting any younger," Jon added pragmatically.
Manager Kando looked increasingly alarmed. "Hold on…"
"We should make a pact," Jake said suddenly, his youthful face serious. "By the end of our break, we will go on at least one real date."
"I don't think…" Manager Kando tried again.
"I'm in," Julian declared, raising his soju glass.
The other members raised their glasses individually, even the usually reserved Silas, who muttered something about "research for lyrics."
"To dating!" they chorused, clinking glasses while Manager Kando watched in horror.
"Director Blake is going to kill me," he groaned, pulling out his phone. "I need to call PR immediately."
"Relax," Roman assured him. "We'll be discreet."
"Seven internationally famous idols suddenly dating? Discreet?" Manager Kando laughed hysterically. "There's no such thing." However, the members were no longer listening. Already, they were debating dating app profiles and whether they should use their real names or pseudonyms.
"Wait, do normal people take their managers on dates?" Jake asked innocently, causing another round of laughter.
Outside the dorm window, Seoul's nightscape glittered with possibilities. For the first time in years, C7 faced a future that was not meticulously scheduled in fifteen-minute increments. It was terrifying yet also exhilarating.
And somewhere across the city, seven young women were going about their everyday lives, unaware that they were about to become part of C7's most challenging project yet: learning to form romantic connections.
* * *
The next morning, Jon woke to the unfamiliar sound of silence. No manager was knocking on doors, no stylists were arriving early to prepare for their schedules, and no vocal trainers were calling them to warm up. He lay still for a moment, savoring the novel experience of waking naturally. The dorm's usual morning chaos was absent, replaced by sporadic sounds of members enjoying their first taste of freedom.
The kitchen smelled of brewing coffee. Jon found Roman already there, glasses perched on his nose, reading something on his tablet.
"Morning," Jon yawned, reaching for a mug.
Roman looked up with a smile. "Slept well?"
"Too well. I forgot what it feels like to get more than four hours."
Other members drifted in as the morning progressed. Julian returned from an early run, energetic as ever. Silas emerged from his room looking surprisingly well-rested. Vic appeared with a sketchbook, quietly sketching a corner of the living room. James video-called his family, his laughter echoing through the dorm. Jake was the last to appear, hair tousled from a solid twelve hours of sleep.
"So," Julian said when they had all congregated in the living room, "are we doing this dating pact?"
The lighthearted atmosphere of the previous night had given way to thoughtful consideration in the sobering light of day.
"I'm in if everyone else is," Jon confirmed.
"It can't hurt to try," Roman agreed.
"Research," Silas mumbled, though less convincingly than the night before.
"I'm tired of only experiencing Romance through lyrics and acting," Vic admitted quietly.
"I want to know what it feels like," Jake said with youthful honesty.
"Then it's settled," James declared. "Operation Date begins now."
"We need a better name than that," Julian complained.
"Operation C7's Romance?" Jon suggested.
"Operation Courtship," offered Roman.
"Operation Don't Embarrass Yourself Publicly," came Manager Kando's voice from the doorway. Seven heads turned to find their manager looking more frazzled than usual, clutching his tablet like a shield.
"PR wants a word," he announced grimly. "Director Blake heard about your... pact." The members exchanged worried glances. Had their freedom ended before it had truly begun? Manager Kando's tablet screen lit up with a video call, revealing Director Blake's impassive face.
"C7," the director began without greeting, "I understand you've developed an interesting interpretation of 'personal growth activities.'"
"Sir…" Roman started.
"Let me finish," Director Blake interrupted. "While this was not what I had in mind when suggesting you expand your horizons, I recognize that meaningful personal relationships are part of a balanced life." The members stared in shock.
"However," Director Blake continued, "as public figures, your actions have consequences. Manager Kando will provide guidelines for conducting these... social experiments... with appropriate discretion."
"So... we have permission?" Julian asked incredulously.
"It is not about permission to date," Director Blake clarified. "It is recognizing your autonomy as adults while expecting professional judgment." His firm demeanor relaxed slightly. "The company has spent years creating C7's reputation. Don't jeopardize it for temporary attractions." The video call ended abruptly, leaving seven stunned idols and one resigned manager in the living room.
"Did that just happen?" Jake whispered.
"Here are the rules," Manager Kando said, distributing printed documents. "Memorize them. If you break them, it will end your careers before any scandal can." Jon skimmed the extensive list, which included everything from "No public displays of affection" to "pre-approved date locations only" and "No overnight stays without security clearance."
"This is... thorough," Jon commented diplomatically.
"Dating as an idol is not just dating," Manager Kando said tiredly. "It's a potential PR crisis wrapped in a security nightmare dipped in a fan meltdown."
"We'll be careful," Roman promised.
"You'd better be," Manager Kando muttered. "Now, who wants to explain how seven internationally famous idols who can't go to convenience stores without being recognized plan to meet potential dates?" The members exchanged blank looks. They had not considered logistics.
"Dating apps are out of the question," Manager Kando continued. "One screenshot and Dispatch would crash from the traffic."
"What about people we already know?" James suggested.
"Like who?" Manager Kando challenged. "Every woman you've interacted with in the past five years has been either staff, another idol, or a relative."
"My cousin has friends," Jon offered.
"Great, someone else's relative," Manager Kando sighed. "Is this what five years of global fame has reduced you to? Friend-of-cousin setups?"
"We could try meeting people through our new hobbies," Vic suggested quietly. "The ones on our development plans. They're pre-approved company activities with vetted participants."
Manager Kando's expression shifted from exasperation to consideration. "That's... not the worst idea."
"Cooking classes," Jon nodded enthusiastically.
"Dance workshops," Jake added.
"Art studios," Roman smiled slightly.
"Music collaborations," Silas seemed to be warming up to the concept.
"Fashion shows," Vic contributed.
"Sports clubs," Julian bounced excitedly.
"University lectures," James completed the circle.
For the first time, Manager Kando looked less than completely horrified. "This might somehow be manageable. Controlled environments. Pre-screened participants. Limited public exposure."
"So, we have your blessing?" Jon asked hopefully.
"Blessing is a strong word," Manager Kando muttered. "Let's call it 'reluctant facilitation.'" The members exchanged victorious glances. Their most ambitious project yet had official, if grudging, support.
"One last thing," Manager Kando added severely. "If—and this is a massive if—any of these connections become serious, there's a separate protocol." He patted his tablet ominously. Background checks. NDAs. The works."
"Isn't that getting ahead of ourselves?" Roman asked reasonably. "We're just trying to go on normal dates."
"Nothing about this is normal," Manager Kando reminded them. "You're C7. Act accordingly." As Manager Kando departed with the weary stride of a man contemplating career choices, the seven members huddled together, as if planning a concert stage design rather than their love lives.
"Where do we even start?" Jake asked, his youth suddenly apparent in the uncertainty of his voice.
Jon clapped a hand on the youngest's shoulder. "We start by remembering who we are outside of C7."
"If we can remember," Silas added dryly.
"That's what these three months are for," Roman reminded them.
"Finding ourselves," Vic hoped, "so we can find someone else."
"That's surprisingly poetic," James noted.
"He should write that down for the next album," Julian joked.
Their laughter filled the dorm. Seven young men were on the precipice of something ordinary and extraordinary: the simple, complicated journey of opening their hearts after years of focusing solely on their music dreams.