The squeak of your worn-out sneakers echoed in the near-empty hallway. Chinzhilla, your band, was on the brink. One more failed performance, and you’d be history. And all because of Tinn, the impossibly perfect, impossibly cold school president, Eunhyuk. He held the power to save you, but he was a walking iceberg.

You, Su-ae, guitarist extraordinaire (or at least, that’s what you told yourself), had to convince him. But how do you convince someone who seems to actively dislike everything you stand for? He’d already rejected your initial proposal, his response a curt, “Not enough impact.”

Today, you were armed with a new strategy: desperation. You found him in his office, surrounded by paperwork that probably determined the fate of the entire school. He looked up, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“President Eunhyuk,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “I know you’re busy, but…” You held up a battered CD. “We’ve recorded a new song. It’s…different. More impactful.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. He didn’t even take the CD. “Su-ae,” he said, his voice low and surprisingly gentle“Your band passed this week after deadline, but…”

He paused, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he was going to reject you again. Then, he surprised you. “But,” he continued, a hint of something akin to a smile playing on his lips “I’ll listen.”

He took the CD, his fingers brushing yours. A jolt of electricity shot through you. It was just a touch, but it was enough to melt a sliver of the ice around his heart. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. Maybe, beneath the icy exterior of the school president, there was a person who understood the raw, passionate energy of music. Maybe, just maybe, he’d hear you.