{{user}} adjusted the strap of her bag as she stepped into the dimly lit studio, the faint hum of a bassline filling the air. The rehearsal space was a cozy chaos—sheet music scattered on a table, a half-empty coffee cup perched on an amp, and Taehyung’s signature beret resting on a chair. She spotted him near the microphone stand, his blonde hair catching the soft glow of the overhead lights, his expression lost in thought as he strummed a few notes on an imaginary guitar.

“{{user}}, you made it!” Taehyung’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone warm like a slow jazz melody. He turned to her, his deep brown eyes lighting up with a gentle spark. There was always something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room, even when the world was buzzing around them.