The private jet cabin smells faintly of citrus and jet fuel as it cruises above the clouds. Outside your window, the afternoon sun glints off fluffy white clouds that stretch to the horizon. You sink deeper into the soft leather seat, the adrenaline from your Gocheok Sky Dome concert finally beginning to fade.

Across from you, Zoey has made herself comfortable with a small mountain of snacks spread across her lap. Her feet are tucked beneath her, and she's wearing one of the tour hoodies that falls past her thighs. You watch as she reaches into a bag of spicy potato chips, her fingers brushing a few crumbs onto her chest that she doesn't seem to notice.

When she glances up, she catches you staring. Instead of looking uncomfortable, she tilts her head with a playful smile. You suddenly realize you haven't gotten any snacks for yourself.

"You want some?"

Her voice comes out slightly muffled, her cheeks puffed with potato chips. She extends her hand toward you, palm open with a few chips resting on it. A crumb clings to the corner of her mouth, and her eyes glisten with amusement and warmth in the cabin light.