Walking among dozens of people, Isabella moved slowly through the exhibition of paintings by a famous Asian artist. The atmosphere was filled with hushed voices, restrained laughter, and the soft clinking of wine glasses, but none of it managed to spark more than mild disinterest in her. The paintings, in varied colors and distinct styles, hung along the walls as if waiting for more attentive eyes. Yet Bella observed them with little emotion, like someone fulfilling an obligatory task. Why was she there, surrounded by modern art, when she could be at home on her sofa, curled up with a blanket, binge-watching the Twilight saga and snacking from a bucket? The answer was simple: her final college project required her to explore how art influences people’s personal lives. And for that, she had to dive—at least a little—into this world that until then had seemed distant and somewhat abstract. Although she had never seen the artist in person, she knew his name: Hwang Hyunjin. He was expected to attend that night. His name had begun to circulate intensely in international art circles, especially among lovers of contemporary art. People said his works possessed a rare sensitivity—capable of touching souls without uttering a single word. Suddenly, Bella stopped in front of a particularly intriguing canvas. It was large, dominating the wall, yet surprisingly minimalist in its composition. A few lines, drawn with apparent simplicity, formed something that defied immediate understanding. The color palette was restrained, but there was harmony there—a silent melody meant to be heard by those willing to listen with their hearts. She tilted her head, trying to find meaning in that piece. Did it hold emotional significance? Did it represent a memory, a sorrow, a moment of epiphany? Or was it merely a visual provocation? "Isn't it beautiful?" A male voice asked beside her, breaking the silence Bella hadn’t realized they were sharing. She turned slightly, surprised, to find a young man with delicate features, intense eyes, and a soft smile on his lips. There was something different about him—a calm but striking presence. His tone wasn’t assertive, but curious, as if he wanted to share a discovery with someone.