Chapter Text
01:00 AM
It was supposed to be just another night. Still in the middle of the night, with everyone sound asleep. The dorm was quiet. Jeonghan woke up simply because he needed to use the bathroom.
But the second he opened his eyes and sat up, something felt… off.
First, his shirt felt way too tight across his chest.
Second, when he groaned, “Ugh…” the voice that came out was high-pitched. Sweet. Feminine.
Third, the world around him looked… taller? The room looked just a little too high, like the whole world had stretched overnight. Everything looked the same, yet also completely different.
And fourth—when he got out of bed and saw his reflection in the mirror…
“...Who are you and why do you look like a girl version of me?!”
He panicked. Reflexively grabbed his chest. Soft. Round. Real. Then he yanked his pajama pants down.
“Oh my God. What the—where is it? Bring it back!!”
Still in oversized pajamas now hanging loose on his body, Jeonghan threw on a big hoodie draped over a chair. He swapped the pajama bottoms (threatening to slip off entirely) for a pair of training pants with a drawstring, tying them tight around a waist that felt all wrong. Then he bolted out of his room, tugging the hood low to cover a face that suddenly didn’t feel like his own.
And that’s when Jeonghan ran into his first victim: Joshua.
Joshua had just gotten up, shuffling toward the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. It was still 1 AM, his eyes half-shut with sleep. He emerged from the kitchen holding a steaming mug—only to see a girl sprinting out of Jeonghan’s room, wearing Jeonghan’s clothes.
Joshua froze. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Since when did Jeonghan have a girlfriend? And he brought her to the dorm?! Joshua darted forward.
“Uh—who are you?!” he exclaimed, voice cracking in shock rather than anger. With his free hand, he yanked back the hood.
“I’m Jeonghan!!” The stranger shrieked—high-pitched and panicked.
Joshua turned into a statue, mug slipping from his grip, coffee spilling everywhere. His hand let go of the hoodie, and he stumbled back a step.
“…Okay. I’m dreaming. This is a lucid dream, right? Who’s controlling tonight’s script?” he muttered, then smacked himself hard across the face.
“I’m the real Jeonghan! Run a biometric scan! A DNA test! Whatever!!” Jeonghan wailed, his new voice pitching even higher with hysteria.
***
Minutes later, the two of them sat in the living room. Jeonghan was trembling, munching on biscuits. Joshua sat in silence, brain in full system overload.
“Alright. Start from the top. You woke up, then… what?” Joshua finally asked, stirring a cup of tea he’d made to replace the lost coffee. Steam still curled up from the mug.
“I woke up. Went to pee. And then—boom. I was a woman.” Jeonghan rubbed his temples, voice flat.
“That’s not a logical sequence,” Joshua deadpanned.
“You think I had time to craft a perfect narrative while I suddenly grew—parts that should not exist?!” Jeonghan snapped, glaring.
Joshua slid the steaming tea across the table. Then he just… stared. At the feminine face in front of him. Trying to convince himself this really was Jeonghan. For a second, he even wondered if maybe his eyesight had finally gone bad like Wonwoo’s, and he needed glasses.
Silence. Heavy. Joshua’s brain simply didn’t have the processing power for Jeonghan-as-a-girl.
“…We need help,” Joshua finally said.
“No. We need an exorcist,” Jeonghan shot back.
“Or a psychiatrist,” Joshua suggested.
“Or maybe we should just go straight to God.”
And with that, both of them retreated to their rooms—neither fully convinced any of this was real. Maybe it was a shared dream. Maybe not.
Hopefully, by morning, everything would go back to normal.
***
Jeonghan stared at the reflection in his bedroom mirror—and the reflection stared back like it wasn’t him.
The hair. That was the first thing. It had always been his weapon: a sly ponytail, a soft curtain cut, or that messy indie-boy tumble depending on his mood. Styles that kept fans asking, “Is he actually feminine… or am I just imagining things?”
But everyone knew—he was a man.
And now? His face had changed. His gender had changed.
The same haircut fell differently. What once framed him as ‘Jeonghan, the pretty boy’ now made him look like an action-drama heroine stepping off a motorcycle—slick, gorgeous, dangerous.
His jawline was sharper, yet somehow smaller. His skin looked sinless, poreless. And his eyes—still the same eyes. Still sharp, still capable of melting SEVENTEEN’s leader in three seconds flat. But now framed by lashes that were longer. Natural. No extensions. No makeup. Just… his.
Disaster.
Once, Jeonghan was that delicate, teasing kind of feminine—still undeniably masculine. Now, he was fully feminine… but still the kind of feminine who could look masculine—whenever he got mad. Or whenever he punched Hoshi.
***
Seungcheol came back from the gym, pushed open the dorm door— and froze.
He stood rooted in the hallway, breath caught in his chest. Jeonghan’s door was cracked open, light spilling out to frame the figure standing inside. Seungcheol blinked, rubbed his eyes hard with both hands. No way. His gym bag had already slipped from his grip to the floor. He had to be hallucinating.
Then the figure turned around. And Seungcheol immediately panicked.
“Who is this?! Why is she here?! Joshua, who brought a girl to the dorm?!”
“Not me—I was just as traumatized at one am!” Joshua’s voice bellowed back from the kitchen.
“Cheol… It’s me.”
“……”
“Jeonghan.”
“Impossible. Jeonghan is… manipulative, sly, charismatic, and—”
“I’m still manip—”
“I’m scared!”
Jeonghan glared, at a loss for words. He brushed past Seungcheol and headed for the kitchen instead. He collapsed into a chair, silently watching Joshua prep yet another cup of coffee. At this point, caffeine was a survival.
Somehow, only the hyung line was awake at six in the morning. No one else stirred, even after Seungcheol and Joshua’s combined shouting match. Maybe the others were just used to the leader’s over-the-top reactions. Then again, sanity was never SEVENTEEN’s strong suit.
Seungcheol followed, sitting across from Jeonghan, staring at him like his brain might explode.
“…Jeonghan?” His voice was half-whisper, half-prayer. Or maybe a curse. Even he wasn’t sure. The figure turned slowly. Met his eyes.
And Seungcheol... Seungcheol nearly toppled his chair, scooting back like the vision in front of him might bite, as if the sight was too close, clutching his chest like he’d just been confessed to by a rival CEO in a K-drama.
That face… it was Jeonghan. But not. But yes. But no. But—why was it so beautiful?!
Those almond eyes that already destroyed the pride of male and female idols alike, now framed by longer lashes. Don’t ask how Seungcheol knew, but if he whipped out a ruler right now, the hypothesis would check out. His nose was still the same—smooth as a freshly paved highway.
But the lips?! Pink. Fuller. And why, Seungcheol, WHY are you swallowing your spit?!
“Han…?” His voice cracked.
Instant regret. The nerves were too obvious.
“What? Don’t believe me?” Jeonghan tilted his head.
And right on cue—like CGI in a music video—Jeonghan’s half-damp hair fell across his cheek. Sunlight hit the slope of his now-slimmer neck. Then he spoke, and it was game over.
“I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming, and any second now I’ll wake up hugged by Dino or punched by Mingyu.”
But, no.
Jeonghan rose, stepped up beside him. God… his height now was perfect for Seungcheol to wrap his arms around. His voice was the same yet softer, more feminine. The sarcasm intact, but delivered like a K-drama heroine furious about being forced to marry a CEO she didn’t love.
“Seungcheol.” His gaze was sharp. “I haven’t changed completely. I’m still me. But…” He gestured at his face. “An upgrade. Version 2.0. If you’re scared, just say it.”
Seungcheol opened his mouth. No words came. Just one slipped out, “…Your fan.”
Jeonghan’s eyes widened.
“What?!”
Seungcheol bolted upright, stumbling three steps back.
“No—I meant shocked. Surprised. Startled. That’s what I meant!”
Jeonghan smirked faintly, turned on his heel, and disappeared back into his room. For the first time, he worried this wasn’t a dream after all.
Seungcheol buried his face in both hands. Why did Jeonghan have to look even prettier when he was angry…?!
***
Before: Jeonghan the Fake Angel
Before that crazy day, Jeonghan was known as the visual trickster.
He was masculine with a hint of femininity, depending on his haircut. His face? Infuriating. But undeniably beautiful. From a distance, he was often mistaken for a female idol, yet his lazy slouch, relaxed shoulders, and that heavy, half-asleep voice always gave away the strong masculine aura underneath. His hands, too, were a dead giveaway—idol hands, but definitely male.
His hair was long, but always styled in that effortless mess way—half-tied, a careless bun, or left to fall around his face like some anime character who had given up on life. It annoyed people. But it made them curious, too.
From head to toe, Jeonghan was the perfect blend of angelic beauty and sweet mischief—a professional trickster who faked being sick just to score extra break time. Not because he couldn’t work, but because he simply couldn’t be bothered.
After: Jeonghan 2.0 — The Beauty Who Never Asked to Be Beautiful
After that incident, Jeonghan didn’t just ‘look’ more feminine—he completely transformed.
Now he was feminine with flashes of masculinity, depending on his expression.
His face had shrunk smaller, jawline tapered into the soft V-shape of a woman, cheekbones sharper, lips naturally fuller. His eyebrows were still very Jeonghan: always arched with sarcasm. But now they were framed by lashes that curled like an expensive salon treatment.
His skin glowed—not the kind of glow from a diligent idol skincare routine, but the main character in a manhwa who wakes up flawless kind of glow. His posture had shifted, too. Shoulders narrower. Waist slimmer. And every movement—unconsciously—flowed lighter, smoother, deadlier.
The biggest change was the way he stood. Before, Jeonghan stood like a man daring the world to challenge him. Now, he stood like the lead in a K-drama, episode 12, just realizing his first love had always been… Seungcheol.
His clothes were still the same: oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, sneakers. But somehow, on him now, they looked like high-end fashion.