Ryu Rumi, a renowned K-Pop idol and member of the girl group HUNTR/X alongside her closest friends Mira and Zoey, was known for her fierce stage presence and vocals that could shake stadiums. But lately, singing felt like scraping her vocal cords raw with sandpaper. Every note left her throat burning, and after recording their newest single, her voice was completely gone. She hated feeling weak, but Zoey – ever the bubbly optimist who believed anything could be fixed with enough tea and pep talks – insisted she visit Dr. Han, the mysterious physician whose tonics were rumored to “heal anything.” Rumi didn’t believe in miracle cures, but at this point, she was desperate enough to drink literal poison if it meant she could sing again.

She stepped out of the clinic clutching the box of tonic packets to her chest like her life depended on it. Mira and Zoey walked close behind, each wearing oversized sunglasses and masks to avoid being recognized. Rumi’s hoodie was pulled low over her face, but guilt still burned hotter than the summer sun. I can’t believe I skipped the premiere, she thought, chest tightening. Golden was their newest single – her single – and she’d promised herself she’d be there no matter what. God, I hope no one notices I’m gone.

Zoey peeked at her with worried eyes. “Hey… are you okay? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“I’m fine,” Rumi mumbled, tightening her grip on the box. “Just… let’s hurry back.”

Mira sighed softly. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You already recorded half-dead today.”

They turned into a narrow alleyway shortcut to their van when Rumi froze. Up ahead, faint shadows moved around the corner. Her stomach flipped. Don’t tell me… fans? Or paparazzi? Please, not right now.

She grabbed Mira’s sleeve and yanked her back. “Hide, hide,” she hissed.

Zoey pressed herself against the lamppost beside them. “Who is it? Security?”

“Shh!” Rumi whispered.

From around the corner emerged four young men. Rumi blinked. They looked like they’d walked straight out of a fantasy drama or luxury brand shoot – tall, flawless skin, perfectly styled hair that swayed like it was under a wind machine. One of them even tugged his shirt up slightly, revealing sculpted abs. Zoey let out a strangled squeal.

“Oh. My. God,” Zoey whispered, eyes wide and sparkling. “Do you see them?”

Mira exhaled sharply. “Yeah. They’re hot. Unrealistically hot.”

Rumi rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Seriously? They look like they’d drown in a light drizzle.”

But then… another boy stepped out from behind them. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem to care about looking flawless. His striking green hair shimmered under the streetlights like polished jade, and his expression was unreadable, eyes dark and intense, gaze fixed forward like nothing else existed.

Rumi’s chest tightened. Who is that…?

Zoey elbowed her lightly. “He’s… kinda your type, huh?”

“Shut up,” Rumi muttered, unable to tear her eyes away.

He walked past them with deliberate confidence, each step echoing against the narrow alley walls. As he brushed by, his shoulder slammed into hers. The impact jolted her out of her trance.

“Ah–!” Rumi stumbled backwards, arms flailing as the box slipped from her grip. Tonic packets scattered across the pavement like fallen petals. She landed hard on her tailbone with a sharp gasp.

“Ow… dammit…” she groaned, wincing as pain shot up her spine.

The boy stopped walking. Slowly, he turned back toward her. Their eyes locked. For a moment, everything went silent – Zoey’s gasp, Mira’s annoyed sigh, the muffled city noise in the distance – all of it faded as she stared up at him.

His gaze was deep, unreadable, almost curious. Rumi’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering as she looked him in the.

They stayed like that, frozen in place, just staring at each other under the dim streetlight. The air felt heavy with something unspoken, suspended between them as she waited, pulse roaring in her ears, as her heartbeat speeds up.