The office building never welcomed them.

It rose out of the city like a clean lie — glass walls, polished floors, air that smelled faintly of disinfectant and ambition. If the MARS house had held them like a promise, this place reminded them of terms and conditions. Everything here watched back.

They arrived together, but not as one.

Jun walked in first, black hair styled neatly, too neatly, the collar of his shirt buttoned higher than necessary. He looked composed in a way that fooled strangers — long limbs controlled, face soft but distant, eyes dark with thoughts he never shared. People often mistook Jun’s quiet for calm. They didn’t see how tightly he held himself together.

Behind him, Dylan adjusted the strap of his bag. His beauty was the dangerous kind — not immediately gentle, not designed to be safe. His eyes were observant, almost predatory when he thought no one was paying attention. He smiled easily, but it rarely reached all the way through.

Nano burst through the doors next, loud, bright, hair dyed a shade that shifted under the lights. He wore his energy openly — sharp grin, restless hands, the kind of body that couldn’t stay still even when ordered to. Nano filled spaces without asking permission.

Pepper followed, phone in hand, still smiling at something on the screen. He was effortlessly charming — warm eyes, soft lips, a face that trusted love too easily. His clothes were always a little too relaxed for a place like this, as if he refused to believe the world could harden him. The faint mark on his neck went unnoticed by everyone but Dylan.

Thame came in quietly.

Tall, composed, features clean and balanced in a way cameras loved, Thame carried himself with an ease that came from knowing exactly how much space he was allowed to take. His eyes were steady, thoughtful, always measuring. He wore a silver ring on his index finger — Po’s gift, though no one else knew that yet.

And then there was Po.

Po lingered at the entrance, camera already in hand, adjusting the settings as if the world might slip away if he didn’t catch it fast enough. His hair fell into his eyes no matter how often he pushed it back, his smile quick but distracted. He looked softer than the others — slimmer frame, gentle posture — but there was a seriousness underneath, a quiet intensity that only surfaced when he focused.

Right now, he was focused on MARS.

He filmed the hallway, the nameplate on the door, the way Jun paused before stepping inside. He caught Dylan glancing at Jun’s reflection in the glass. He caught Thame waiting — always waiting — until Po walked beside him.

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