Tommy and Hee Jun Kang tried to yield the draw to each other. After a long bout of back-and-forth, it was Tommy who finally stepped up—like an Alpha, supposedly. Now a full-on burning Potato, even down to his hands and feet, Tommy creaked his way toward the lottery machine.
There was a reason Gyeol had hoped the first pheromone matching would fail.
In past seasons, when there had only been Skinship Time, couples who matched pheromones early on and used the Time Booth often ended up riding that momentum all the way into becoming the final couple. As if it were proof of how easily people could be conquered by instinct.
That was exactly why viewers’ expectations for the first matched couple were sky-high. If they matched, used the Time Booth, and then gradually fell apart, it was seen as a betrayal of that expectation—and, as if in response, negative reviews and comments about those contestants would flood online communities.
“Stop!”
At Tommy’s booming shout, the rapidly spinning numbers on the large screen froze.
“Number 1!”
“Huuuh?!”
Hee Jun Kang shot to his feet with a shout, while Tommy dropped to his knees and threw both arms skyward in celebration.
The tense cast burst into laughter at the sight of them.
“Nice one, giant Potato!”
“Hey—don’t call me giant Potato!”
Even with a pout, Tommy high-fived Hee Jun Kang.
Apparently, Gyeol wasn’t the only one who saw a potato when he looked at him. Later, he’d learn that Tommy—who had a surprisingly accurate sense of self-awareness—ran a YouTube channel called Potato TV.
“Give me your hand, giant Potato.”
“I said don’t call me that...”
Hee Jun Kang held out his hand, and Tommy, lamenting in his clumsy Korean, still took it.
With that, the two of them headed bravely into the Time Booth, and the rest of the cast was granted a blissful stretch of free time.
***
“Is today really only day two? I feel completely drained...”
Isu Yoon collapsed onto the mattress, muttering weakly.
“Your face is pale right now. You look like some creature from a wizard movie just sucked your soul out.”
“You mean Harry Potter? Ah, now I’m picturing it.”
Catching Gyeol’s joke instantly, Isu let out a feeble laugh.
“Like—whoosh—and then... ugh... collapse.”
When Gyeol acted it out and pretended to fall onto the bed, Isu burst out laughing.
“That was exactly it. Wow, your expressions are insane, Gyeol. Are you even allowed to show acting like that on a dating show?”
“Hey, as long as you’re laughing, Isu, that’s enough.”
Resting his chin in his hand, Gyeol spoke in a softer, more casual tone. At his teasing, Isu rolled over on the bed.
“Wow, an Omega flirting with another Omega.”
“Like that’d actually work.”
The two had grown noticeably closer over just two days. The more Gyeol got to know him, the more he realized Isu was genuinely a good person. Their sense of humor matched, and his considerate nature made him easy to be around.
Maybe it wouldn’t be bad if things settled into a friendly dynamic between the Omegas like this.
“Do you think Tommy and Hee Jun are doing okay? I kind of want to be a viewer right now.”
“Yeah... The staff probably knows what’s happening inside, but we won’t find out until the broadcast, right?”
“Honestly, that’s a relief.”
“A relief?”
Gyeol tilted his head, puzzled. Isu stared up at the ceiling as he spoke.
“Because no one matched with Jun.”
“Ah.”
Jun Shin.
“Actually... I really wanted to match with him.”
It seemed Isu liked Jun Shin quite a lot. Even with the cameras rolling, he kept talking about him openly, without filtering himself.
On the other hand, Gyeol found it uncomfortable to even bring up Jun Shin. He had just been exposed to his pheromones not long ago, and he didn’t have the mental composure for this. Maintaining a poker face, he subtly shifted so the camera—whose position he had already memorized—wouldn’t catch his expression.
“I see.”
“Yeah. I mean, pheromone matching is kind of... intense, you know? If you’re drawn to each other’s pheromones and then spend an hour in Skinship Time... it feels like you actually have a real chance. Though now it’s not guaranteed to be Skinship Time anymore.”
“True.”
After agreeing, Gyeol searched for the right words. All the Alphas had voted for him, and one of those cards clearly came from Jun Shin. From Isu’s perspective, that meant he’d already failed to connect with Jun twice.
The drained look on his face lingered in Gyeol’s mind. Even though Gyeol had entered R-Connect with a ruthless determination, his fundamentally selfless nature wouldn’t let him ignore it.
“It’s only day two. There’ll be more chances. We’ll have more pheromone matchings, right?”
“You think so...?”
This is strange, Gyeol thought. I never imagined I’d be encouraging someone who likes Jun Shin.
“Of course. You’re a great person, Isu.”
He meant it sincerely. Perhaps that sincerity came through, because Isu’s expression softened immediately.
“...Gyeol. You’re a really good person too.”
“It’s nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“Let’s drop the formalities. You can speak casually to me.”
“Uh... are you sure? I mean, I’d like that.”
“Of course. I’ll start now, then. Gyeol.”
Hearing himself called that, Gyeol felt his guard lower for some reason.
Was it because he had never truly been taken care of by his own older brother? Even back during his SAVE ME days, he had always looked after the younger members who called him “Gyeol” with that same closeness.
“Yeah. Then I will too... Isu.”
He felt grateful that Isu had opened up first, calling him that so warmly. Used to taking care of those younger than him, Gyeol felt his heart open just a little more.
After chatting for a while, Gyeol stood up.
“Get some rest, Isu. I think I got too tense earlier—I’m sweating. I’ll go take a quick shower.”
“Okay... I think I’ll sleep for a bit.”
“Want me to turn off the lights?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got a sleep mask.”
With that, Isu pulled a cute sleep mask from the drawer—one with closed eyes drawn on top—and put it on.
Gyeol let out a small chuckle and headed into the bathroom.
***
Once inside, locking the door behind him, Gyeol pulled out his phone. The bathroom was the only place without cameras.
There were messages piled up from Yuli’s caretaker.
Went to daycare
(photo)
He’s throwing a huge tantrum asking where you are ㅠㅠ
In the photo, Yuli’s cheeks were puffed out as he cried, his face scrunched up in distress. It was both adorable and heartbreaking.
The unease from earlier—the shock of everything, the discomfort caused by Yo Han Sung—seemed to melt away.
Gyeol gently brushed his fingers over Yuli’s cheek in the photo. All he could feel was the hard surface of the screen, not the softness of the real thing—but even that was enough to comfort him.
I snuck into the bathroom during filming. Sorry for leaving you alone with him.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Gyeol typed quickly and sent the message. A reply came almost immediately.
I already miss you, Gyeol
Reading it, Gyeol leaned his head back and let out a short sigh.
We just started filming... and it already feels like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. How am I supposed to last fifteen days?
He pressed the edge of his phone against his temple before slowly typing back.
Tell him it’s just fourteen nights left.
I already told him before I came, but...
I’ve never missed you this much before lol
Use this chance to miss me as much as you want
ㅠㅠ
A quiet laugh slipped out of him.
Another photo came through—this time of Yuli gripping a chocolate as big as his face, gnawing on the corner like a hamster. His tears had stopped, though his eyes were still red.
“Hang in there. Come on.”
Stretching, Gyeol steeled himself.
My stubborn kid is holding back and waiting for me. I need to hold it together too.
***
When he came out of the shower, Isu was already asleep. Not wanting to wake him, Gyeol didn’t even dry his hair properly, just draped a towel over his head and carefully crossed the room.
Then the moment he stepped outside the bungalow—
He almost screamed.
“J—... damn, you scared me.”
The towel slipped down.
Did I wake Isu?
Glancing back instinctively, Gyeol turned toward the person standing outside.
Jun Shin caught the falling towel and handed it back to him.
Why the hell is this bastard standing here?
“Gyeol.”
The camera was pointed straight at them. Taking the towel, Gyeol draped it back over his head and answered calmly.
“You startled me, Jun.”
“That way of talking sounds really awkward. Just speak casually like before.”
Is he insane? The cameras are rolling.
His insides boiled.
We’re not close enough for that kind of familiarity.
“Alright, then. What’s up?”
But for now, he had no choice but to respond pleasantly. Letting his tone drop, Gyeol smiled.
Jun Shin’s gaze brushed over Gyeol’s damp hair, the soft line of his jaw, the back of his neck—before deliberately shifting away.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come out.”
Get lost, you piece of shit.
Gyeol barely swallowed the words rising in his throat.
“Oh? Really?”
“Yeah. I wanted to talk. We haven’t had the chance yet, and I figured we should use the free time.”
I really don’t want to go. Any other Alpha is fine—but not you. I’d rather punch you in the stomach and go back inside.
But he could already picture the production team watching them with excitement.
What else would be the reason for casting both Jun Shin and Gyeol Go together?
Former members of a failed idol group.
It was common knowledge that SAVE ME had disbanded after Jun Shin left. And while SAVE ME’s fanbase had been tiny, Moving—the group Jun debuted in as leader—now had a massive following. That betrayal hadn’t left so much as a scratch on his shining career.
Of course the production team knew all of this.
No matter how you put them together, they made for a provocative pairing.
“Alright. Let’s go talk.”
That was the relationship between Jun Shin and Gyeol Go now.