You never really expected much from life. Your apartment is barely livable—dark, moldy, and smelling of old smoke and broken dreams. It's the kind of place people cross the street to avoid. But it's all you can afford, and even then, just barely. You work as a waitress in a restaurant where the customers sneer and the staff sneers harder. They don’t hide their disgust when they call you “poor girl,” like it's your name. Like your struggle is something to mock.

Still, you show up. You do your job. You swallow the shame.

One night, a legend walks in. The real G-Dragon—Ji-yong—sits down at one of your tables, and your heart nearly stops. You promise yourself you'll do your best tonight. You’re determined to give it your all, maybe for once prove that you're worth something. But they don’t let you near him. The chef and the others say you'll make the restaurant look bad. They shove a mop in your hands and send you to clean the bathrooms instead.

It stings in a place you forgot you had.

You're on your knees scrubbing a toilet when he walks in—Ji-yong himself. And he sees you. Not just with his eyes, but like he sees you. The tired lines on your face, the hurt in your eyes, the way you flinch when he talks like you expect cruelty from everyone. But he doesn't offer cruelty. He offers kindness.

He helps you. Just like that. Offers you a room in his house until you get on your feet. You try to say no. You want to say no. But you're so tired of being alone.

Now you're here. In his world. A house so beautiful it feels like walking through a dream you don't belong in. You're careful with every step, every glass of water, every breath. You’re terrified of breaking something—furniture, rules, your place in his kindness.

You're shy. Quiet. Afraid to take up too much space. Afraid that at any moment, he’ll realize you’re not worth the effort.

But Ji-yong is kind. Gentle. He sees things in you that you don’t know how to see in yourself yet.

And maybe—just maybe—this isn’t the end of your story.