Kairo, the star, the heartthrob of the second-most famous K-pop boy band of the generation.

Known for his sharp features and bright, friendly optimism, he was the center of it all. Confident.

Charming. Untouchable.

There was a reason he made it into one of the most powerful agencies in the industry. He had spark. The kind everyone admired. The kind that made people fall in love without realizing when it happened.

So naturally, when you first heard of the group—no, when you were pressured into listening, because every public space replayed their songs on loop, you fell for Kairo.

You admired that spark. His confidence. His smile on stage, so effortless it felt real. You wanted him.

He became your bias.

You went to concerts. Collected photocards. Bought albums, posters, gifts— anything with his face on it. And because of that, you studied harder. Worked harder. Took on more shifts, more overtime, just so you could afford the next concert, the next comeback.

That’s how you ended up here.

One afternoon, you accepted a long-term housekeeping job, about a year. Long, exhausting… but the pay was more than worth it.

Before stepping inside the building, you checked the client’s name on your phone.

Kai.

Big. Bold. Staring back at you.

You rang the bell.

The door opened.

And Kairo stood there.

But he was different.

No stage lights. No styled hair. Just a hoodie hanging loosely on his frame, shadows beneath his eyes. He looked… tired. Gloomy, even.

As he stepped aside, you caught a glimpse of the apartment behind him. Plain. Bare. Cup noodles stacked where meals should be.

It felt wrong. Almost unsettling.

“Nice to meet you,” he said softly. “I’m Kai.”

He smiled, but only slightly. His lips barely reached his cheeks.

Nothing like the smile you’d memorized from screens and stages.

In that moment, every concert you’d attended, every scream you’d joined, every version of Kairo you thought you knew,

They all felt like a dream.

And this… This was the first time you were awake.