II

 POV: Y/N

From far away, I could hear a phone ringing. Definitely not mine. The sound was so annoying it made my skin crawl. If it had been mine, it would've flown out the window hours ago.

Silence.

Finally. Thank heaven. I could go back to sleep. The jetlag was killing me.

Door smashes open.

"Onni! Wake up! Get ready! We have to leave in one hour! Donghwan just called! Poor thing, he's so nervous! He wants to see me before the show!"

I groaned, dragging myself to the suitcase I hadn't touched since arriving. It sat exactly where I'd left it three hours ago, before my so-called beauty nap. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—confirmed: I wasn't human. I was a zombie. I'd need every second of the next hour to look even remotely alive.

"SongHee? Can I make myself a coffee?" I called out, heading toward the kitchen.

"Sure! You're at home here! Open all the drawers until you find it!"

"Okay, thanks... oh, and SongHee?"

"Hmm?"

"...Can you help me choose what to wear tonight?"

She finally peeked into the kitchen with a cheeky smile spreading across her lips.

"Why? Have you finally decided to give Youngjoo a chance?"

"I've already told you like—what?—a thousand times: we're just friends!"

"Hmm, okay, okay, if you say so... but if it's not Youngjoo, is it someone else? Are you finally ready to date?"

"SongHee. Me asking for your help just means I need help. You Korean girls always look sophisticated and elegant—even in joggers. It's not the same for me... I just don't want to stand out for the wrong reasons."

"Sweetie, believe me—you'd stand out even if you wore a plastic bag. You'd still look gorgeous. But hey... I actually have a dress that might suit you! Go take a shower. I'll lay it out on your bed."

After my shower, I stepped out, towel-dried hair falling around my shoulders, and spotted the white dress draped across my bed. It was stunning. Delicate and feminine, with an off-shoulder cut and a subtle bohemian touch. It hugged the waist, flowed to the ground, elegant without being over the top. I slipped it on—it fit like it was made for me. The bohemian detail softened the look perfectly.

After curling my hair, adding some light makeup, and throwing on gold accessories, I checked my reflection. Not bad. Not bad at all.

coffee: check shower: check hair/makeup: check

Ready.

I stepped into the living room just in time to see SongHee running from one end of the flat to the other like a woman possessed. She didn't even register my presence at first. Finally, she emerged from her room, fully dressed, and I had to blink.

Wow.

She was mesmerizing. No wonder Donghwan was head over heels for her. When she finally noticed me, her smile lit up the room—and I blushed a little under the weight of it.

"Aaasa! I really chose well! That dress was made for you!"

"...What do you mean your present? It's your dress. I'm just borrowing it."

"Nope. It's never been mine. I bought it for you. But you're so damn complicated about accepting presents, I had to trick you. Look at how perfect it looks on you. I'm really a genius."

I moved to hug her, but she dodged.

"No touching. I've spent 45 minutes on this hair. Donghwan gets first dibs."

After a 20-minute ride, we arrived at the venue. SongHee handed me my seat ticket and whispered that she'd join me later—she needed to see Donghwan before the big moment. My presence was supposed to be a surprise.

Suddenly feeling very alone, I clutched the ticket and made my way through the crowd. I wasn't overdressed exactly—but as usual, being a foreigner in Korea meant I drew more attention than I wanted. One of the only things that really bothered me here. I'd never be able to blend in, never slip under the radar the way I liked.

My seat? Right up front. Because of course it was. Great for the view—not so much for someone trying not to be seen.

Even better: I was the only one on my row. For now.

Eventually, the lights dimmed. People found their seats, the room went dark. I noticed a few shadows settling in beside me. I glanced over. No familiar faces. Just a guy in a black hat and sunglasses. Seriously—sunglasses in a dark auditorium? Korean fashion. Don't even try to understand it, Y/N.

A spotlight hit the stage. The MC appeared, welcoming everyone and thanking them for coming. Still no SongHee.

The show began—an eclectic mix of artists, different genres and backgrounds.

Finally, Donghwan came on stage. I could tell instantly—he was nervous. Fidgeting. Kept glancing backstage. When the MC handed him the mic, he hesitated. He swallowed hard.

Then—

"DONGHWAN OPPA! FIGHTING!!"

The words echoed through the hall.

That voice... No. Wait. Did I just... scream?

He looked straight at me. We locked eyes. He looked stunned. I probably looked even worse.

Then he smiled. Relaxed, just a bit.

"Hello everyone, my name is Donghwan and I'm a guitarist. Sorry for that hesitation earlier... I was supposed to be joined onstage by another artist, but there was an accident backstage. She won't be able to perform. I wasn't sure how to say it... until I heard a beautiful voice just now. And I think we all heard it."

Oh God. No.

"She's one of my best friends. And you know what? She's not just an amazing friend—she's got a voice. If you all cheer loud enough... maybe she'll come sing with me."

I gave him the death stare. Big eyes. No. Way.

I shook my head like a lunatic. He gave me puppy eyes.

"Come on people! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!"

Kill me. No—first I kill him, then I die. Great plan.

The guy beside me—the Sunglasses Guy—tapped my arm.

"What are you waiting for? Your friend needs you."

His words made me pause. I remembered what SongHee said. If he doesn't play tonight... his dream might die.

I took a breath. Tried not to overthink it. Then I stood.

Applause exploded. So much for keeping a low profile.

I reached Donghwan, punched his arm. He just laughed.

The MC gave us a moment to talk.

"You're so dead."

"I really, really love you, you know that, Y/N?"

"Yeah..."

"Look, from here, the spot only lights you up. The audience is basically shadows. Pretend we're alone. Remember when we sang at the beach in Jeju?"

"At 2 a.m.?"

"Exactly. Just us two. Pick the song."

"I get to choose?"

"Of course."

That was Donghwan—he could play anything. All he needed was to hear it once. He deserved recognition. The least I could do was show up for him.

"La Vie en Rose," I whispered.

He smiled like he'd been waiting for me to say that. Announced it to the MC.

I sat on the chair, adjusted the mic.

And then—I let go.

Back to that night on the beach. The first time we met. The lullaby I used to sing to my nieces. All that tenderness, that emotion, it poured out of me.

I didn't even know how it went, honestly. Suddenly, it was over. Applause. So loud.

I bolted from the stage, Donghwan chasing after me. He grabbed me, brought me back for a bow. I glared at him like I'd murder him on sight, then vanished backstage.

I couldn't return to my seat. Too mortified. I waited behind the curtain.

After the show, Donghwan came running. Hugged me, picked me up, twirled me around.

"You're so dead!" I laughed, punching him lightly.

"No I'm not! You were amazing! Y/N, you need to go to auditions, castings—something! You could be a singer!"

"Yeah, right. Quit mocking me."

"I'm serious!" he said, finally setting me down.

"He's right," a voice said.

We both turned. It was the Sunglasses Guy.

"You have an amazing voice and real talent."

I nodded politely, cheeks burning. So he'd heard me sing. Judged me. I was suddenly awkward again—and I could feel Donghwan growing nervous too.

Sunglasses Guy looked at the older man beside him. The man nodded silently.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" the older man asked Donghwan.

They both left, leaving Sunglasses Guy and me standing there.

"So, if I heard correctly... your name is Y/N?"

"Yes..."

"His girlfriend?"

"No, not at all! His best friend... I don't know where his girlfriend is actually... she just disappeared. I should see if I can find her!"

"Can I come with you?" he asks.

I look at him, confused. "...I..."

"I don't really want to stand here alone... that's why," he quickly adds, his voice low, almost embarrassed.

"Sure, why not... You'd be more useful if you were able to see anything, actually. Can you even see with your sunglasses in the middle of the night?"

He chuckles—warm, soft, almost boyish—and takes them off.

Oh.

I do realize now why he had them on in the first place.

He stretches his hand toward me, the moonlight catching the edge of a silver ring on his finger.

"I'm Kim Namjoon. Nice to meet you, Y/N."