Early December arrived in a blur of frostbitten mornings and long, exhausting days. The novelty of being back in Korea had long faded, replaced by the steady weight of responsibility pressing on Lexie's shoulders. Though the city glittered with holiday lights and cheerful banners, her life had settled into a rhythm that was anything but festive—familiar in its chaos, like the life she'd led in the Philippines.
Each morning began the same way.
"Ethan, love, we need to get up," Lexie whispered gently as the sun barely peeked through the frost-laced window of their apartment. Her hand brushed his tousled hair.
Ethan, warm and curled up in his little dinosaur pajamas, responded with a soft groan and pulled the covers over his head. "A little bit more, Mom... Ethan still sleeping in space."
Lexie chuckled. "Captain Ethan, your mission is to explore the galaxy of cereal bowls. Up we go!"
That always did the trick. He popped his head out with a sleepy grin, eyes squinting against the light. "Roger that!"
Breakfast was a blur of clinking spoons and milk mustaches. Lexie quickly packed Ethan's bag for his early childhood academy while preparing her own things for work—tablet, folders, laptop, and her ever-growing checklist of audio drafts.
By 8:00am, Lexie would have Ethan bundled in his winter coat, a tiny backpack bouncing against his back. She'd lock their apartment door and help him into the back seat of her car. The heater clicked on, and soon, the windows would fog slightly from their breath.
"Ma, can we listen to Mark samchoon's song again? The one with the spaceship sound?"
"Only if you eat your sandwich today, deal?"
"Deal! Pinky promise!"
Dropping him off was always the hardest part. Ethan, ever the sweet and sociable child, gave her a big hug at the academy door, then kissed her cheek with exaggerated sound effects.
"Muah! Mama, you go fight at work, okay? Ethan will draw you a cool car again!"
"I'll be waiting," Lexie smiled, trying to suppress the emotional lump in her throat.
Then it was her turn to shift into work mode—vocal rehearsals, trainee evaluations, production meetings. Everything moved at a brutal pace.
She'd gotten Kyungmin's approval to bring Ethan into the company building after 4 p.m., a gesture she was endlessly grateful for. It helped her balance the long hours without sacrificing time with her son.
Most days, at exactly 3:55, she packed her things and whispered quiet apologies as she slipped out of the room. The moment she arrived at the academy, Ethan would come running out like a little rocket.
"Mamaaaaaa!" he'd squeal, arms wide, backpack bouncing.
Their walk to SM Entertainment became its own kind of bonding moment—Ethan recounting everything from what he drew in class to how one of his classmates cried because they lost their mitten.
"And Ethan gave him mine! But only for the left hand. 'Cause I still needed the right one to fight snow ninjas," he explained seriously.
By the time they arrived at the company, the front desk staff already recognized them. "Ethan, annyeong!" they'd wave, and Ethan would bow like a little prince.
"Annyeonghaseyo! Mama's office at floor ten!"
Ethan was naturally gentle and curious—a bright, social child who warmed up quickly to almost everyone.
Especially his new favorite: his Junny Samchon.
"Mattie Samchoon is funny," Ethan would say while clinging to Junny's leg as Lexie worked on edits. "But Junny Samchoon knows how to make octopus hotdogs."
Soon, others joined the fold. The Dreamies had taken a quick liking to him. And of course Haechan was the first to fall.
Haechan would swing by with a plastic bag full of snacks—"For the kid, not you," he'd announce with a mock glare, only to hand Lexie a secretly stashed iced coffee anyway.
Chenle took it upon himself to teach Ethan how to say outrageously random words in Mandarin, sending the boy into giggles while Lexie pretended not to Google translations under the desk.
Jaemin—ever dramatic—coached Ethan through exaggerated aegyo poses, complete with finger hearts and over-the-top winks that made Lexie groan and laugh in equal measure.
Renjun often brought a quiet calm to the chaos, settling beside Ethan with sketchpads and colored pens, the two of them bent over doodles in comfortable silence, exchanging only the occasional question or critique like seasoned art partners.
And then there was Jisung—surprisingly serious when it came to space talk. He'd kneel beside Ethan and launch into planets, galaxies, black holes, and hypothetical moon colonies, his voice steady and eyes bright, while Ethan listened like the universe itself depended on this conversation.
Ethan never caused problems. On the contrary, he became a little burst of joy in the halls. He greeted everyone with tiny bows and dramatic salutes.
"Hello, Captain Taeyong! Hi, Daddy Johnny! Hi, General Kyungmin!"
"Captain?" Taeyong laughed one day, crouching beside him. "Who promoted me?"
"I did," Ethan said seriously. "Mommy said I could."
Lexie, red-faced behind him, mouthed a quick apology. But the office staff just melted.
Lexie's studio had slowly transformed into a second home. She kept a small bean bag, coloring books, a stack of children's storybooks, and a little drawer filled with Ethan's snacks and headphones.
Some evenings, when meetings stretched long or recording went overtime, Lexie's usual babysitting solution became Jaemin and Chenle. Though unofficial, they took their job seriously.
"Okay, Ethan, you have two cookies' worth of time before bed," Jaemin declared one evening.
"Can I have three if I dance like Haechan samchon?" Ethan giggled, attempting a wobbly moonwalk.
Chenle nearly dropped the juice box from laughter.
"Bro, this kid's going to be a menace by age ten."
"He already is," Jaemin whispered, watching Ethan climb onto the couch to re-enact a dinosaur battle scene—with Mogu, of course.
Meanwhile, in Studio B, Lexie tried to focus on the vocal layering for an upcoming track. She'd been staring at the same waveform for nearly thirty minutes.
When the door creaked open, she didn't look up, assuming it was an intern.
"You okay?" came Haechan's voice.
Lexie startled, blinking rapidly. "Oh. Yeah. I mean—"
She bit her lip. The screen blurred in front of her.
Haechan stepped in fully, holding out a canned coffee. "You haven't moved in a while."
She took the can with trembling fingers, hiding the waver in her breath.
"Thanks," she said. "Just... exhausted."
"Let me guess: four hours of sleep, six layers of vocals, and a tiny tornado named Ethan glued to your hip?"
She cracked a laugh, short but real. "Something like that."
He tilted his head. "You want to cry or nap?"
Lexie's eyes welled. "Both."
Haechan sat on the other chair, swiveling slightly. "You can. You're allowed to. You're doing an insane job, Lex."
There was a moment of silence. Lexie took a deep breath and let herself sink back into the seat, can of coffee unopened.
"I just... sometimes it feels like I'm juggling three lives. The producer, the mom, the girl who still doesn't know what rest means."
Haechan didn't rush to comfort her. He just sat there, nodding slowly, offering the kind of quiet presence she hadn't realized she needed.
"You're not alone," he said simply. "And if the Dreamies get their way, Ethan's gonna have a hundred samchons watching out for him."
Lexie smiled at that.
* * *
The next day, Ethan marched into the studio with a new drawing.
"Look! It's Mommy fighting a big monster called 'Deadline!'"
Lexie looked at the scribbles: her with laser eyes, a huge red monster labeled DEADLINE, and all the NCT members as backup dancers.
Junny wheezed when he saw it.
"You got backup dancers?"
"Ethan says I deserve moral support."
Junny bumped fists with the boy. "Legend."
* * *
That Friday, after an unusually smooth session, Lexie peeked through the glass and saw Ethan asleep on the couch in the lounge, his arms wrapped tightly around Mogu.
Chenle, already halfway through a snack, whispered, "He passed out mid-sentence. He was explaining the plot of Cars for the eighth time."
Jaemin draped a coat over the boy. "You okay to carry him?"
Lexie nodded and stepped over gently, brushing Ethan's bangs back.
"Mommy?" he mumbled.
"Shh. We're going home."
He reached for her neck, still half-asleep. "Did I do good today?"
Lexie blinked against the sting in her eyes. "You did amazing, love."
Just as Lexie quietly closed the studio door behind her, she nearly jumped at the sight of Mark waiting in the hallway. He wasn't supposed to still be here—he had another schedule tonight. But he didn't say anything. He just looked at her arms and stepped forward.
"Let me carry him down," he said softly.
Lexie blinked, instinctively holding Ethan a little closer. "But you still have another schedule—"
"I want to," Mark said, voice firm but kind.
There was no room for argument, and maybe, deep down, she didn't want to give one. She nodded.
Carefully, Mark took the sleeping child into his arms. His movements were gentle—like he'd done this before, or maybe just thought about it more than he let on. Ethan stirred only slightly, his small fingers curling into the fabric of Mark's hoodie as if sensing the change but trusting it.
They walked in quiet rhythm down to the parking lot. When they reached her car, Mark helped her open the back seat and leaned in to settle Ethan into his booster. He took a moment to tuck the blanket over the boy's legs, then adjusted the seatbelt with the kind of precision that made her chest ache.
Lexie stood beside the open door, watching.
When Mark straightened, he turned toward her—and without a word, pulled her gently into a hug. It wasn't rushed. Wasn't hesitant. It was the kind of hug that held space for everything she didn't know how to say.
"You don't have to carry everything alone," he murmured into her hair.
Lexie froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers clung to the hem of his jacket. "I don't know how to do this," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Not... with someone else."
Mark pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. His hand found the side of her face, thumb brushing the apple of her cheek.
"Then let's figure it out," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead—gentle, grounding. "One tired day at a time."
Lexie closed her eyes, letting the moment settle around her like the quiet of snow before it touches ground.
~~ 끝 ~~