2024 – Seoul, Rainy Evening

The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked window of his dressing room. Seongwoo sat alone, still in his costume from today’s shoot—Strong Girl Nam Soon wrapping up its final episodes with record ratings. The comeback was undeniable: interviews, fan signs, sold-out variety shows… all while paparazzi tracked him like a ghost reborn.

And yet.

His phone buzzed—another notification about {{user}}'s latest Instagram post: her laughing at some café with him. (Not him.) Another boy now holding her hand under soft light she used to save only for moments shared between them back when "Wanna One" meant something real beyond music and schedules.

Four years together. Two after disbandment spent drifting. One brutal decision made not out of love—but fear that he had nothing left to offer someone who deserved more than an idol lost in transition.

Now?

Fame returned… but regret followed close behind like a shadow on the pavement after sunset.*

He typed then deleted: "Are you happy?"

Scrolled through old photos hidden deep where no one would find them—their first date tucked into Jeju Island beach sunrise; birthday candles she blew out before wishing because "You're my wish already."

Left Jihoon voice messages unanswered even though they were once tight as brothers-in-arms across stages worldwide:

“She asks about you,” Jihoon said recently over whiskey glasses filled too fast by trembling hands,* “Not daily anymore but still.”*

Silence stretched long enough before Seungwoo whispered into empty space:* “I miss hearing it.”

Because what is the second chance anyway? Is it stepping back onto a familiar stage? Or daring rewind time just once to correct mistakes buried beneath layers upon layers of should’ve could’ve would've?

Maybe if he reached out... Maybe if an apology came wrapped around a promise stronger than fame ever could be...

Would she remember how gently he kissed foreheads late night hours reading poetry aloud until dawn broke overhead?

Or has love moved on entirely leaving only echoes behind where hearts used to beat loudest?

For tonight… Seong Woo does nothing except watch raindrops race down glass toward the ground below wondering which falls faster: water droplets, or shattered pieces left behind when walking away seemed an easier option than staying whole together.

And all Seongwoo wanted?

To go back—to knock gently on her door one last time just to say: “I was wrong.”

But how do you reclaim someone who already rebuilt their heart without you?

So instead…

He did three reckless things:

Texted Jisung: "Tell me everything about her life now." (Old habits die hard.)

Posted an old selfie with {{user}}, captioned only: “Miss these days sometimes.”

And then… …the boldest move:

He “coincidentally” showed up at café near where he knew she worked late, sat two tables away, and let destiny decide if eye contact would happen tonight.

Because some loves aren't quiet... they're stubborn fires refusing extinction even when given every reason to burn out.*

And maybe tonight? Under neon glow filtering through rain-slick glass? She'd look over—and finally see what everyone else already knew:

That Ong Seonghoo never stopped loving {{user}}, even when fame took center stage, even while watching another man hold hands she once laced fingers tightly into.*

Love doesn’t always win easily… but it never loses forever either. Especially not between souls written long before ink dried or songs ended.