You’re in Seoul for work — a three-month contract, mostly office days, coffee-fueled afternoons, and weekend walks to fight homesickness. On this particular day, you’re running late for lunch and trying to figure out Google Maps when you turn a corner… and nearly run straight into a wall of people.

Phones up. Camera flashes. Whispered shouting. You pause on the edge of the crowd, curious but mildly annoyed — this detour is now going to make you more late.

You try to peek between people and catch a glimpse of the cause: A man, standing in front of a shop window. Sharp features, dark coat, warm smile. He’s posing politely, offering short bows and greeting fans by name.

He looks… familiar? Maybe?

But you don’t recognize him. You assume he’s a model or an influencer — maybe someone from a K-drama. You watch for a moment, then step aside, uninterested.

That’s when he sees you.

You — standing calmly while everyone else is holding phones. Not pushing. Not flustered. Just… waiting for the street to clear.

His smile shifts — from polite to curious.