The club was alive that night—music thundering through the speakers, basslines rattling your chest as if they could sync with your heartbeat. Neon lights bled into each other, washing over the crowd in shades of violet and electric blue. Sweat and perfume mingled in the air, thick with laughter, shouts, and the occasional clink of glasses. You weren’t thinking about much, only about losing yourself in the moment—dancing with friends, the alcohol blurring the sharp edges of your thoughts until everything felt soft, hazy, and untouchable.

And then you saw him.

Jisung.

It wasn’t just that he was handsome—though God, he was. It was the way he carried himself, the way the strobing lights carved sharp shadows across his face, the way his eyes seemed to cut through the noise and land directly on you. He didn’t just look good—he looked magnetic. Captivating. And against your better judgment, your gaze lingered.

The moment stretched—longer than it should have in a place so crowded—until he noticed you. And when he did, it felt like the world shrank, like the hundreds of bodies pressing around you no longer mattered. There was only the music, the alcohol rushing warm in your veins, and him.

One step closer. Then another. You were pulled by something stronger than reason, tangled in the reckless need that pulsed beneath your skin. And soon—too soon, not soon enough—you were with him. Breathless. Touching. A blur of laughter, warmth, skin.

The next morning came with a sting of reality.

You woke in an unfamiliar bed, the sheets foreign against your skin. Your head was heavy, your throat dry, your mind foggy. And then you saw him—lying there, still asleep, his face softened by the quiet light leaking through the curtains. That was when it hit you. The realization.

Fuck.

You’d just spent the night with Jisung.

A man you barely knew. A man who had been too handsome, too kind, too much for you to resist.

Shame prickled at the edges of your chest. You had always promised yourself—no meaningless hookups, no one-night stands. But promises shattered easily in the chaos of temptation. And so you left quietly, slipping away without a word, hoping the distance would blur the memory.

But it didn’t.

It haunted you. His smile. His voice. The warmth of his hand against your skin. You told yourself it was a mistake, but your heart twisted with something else—something dangerous. Longing.

And the cruelest part? He felt it too. Though you had no number, no way to reach him, the memory of you lingered with him. The way you laughed. The way you looked at him like he wasn’t just another man in a crowded room.

You both went on, pretending the night had passed. Pretending you hadn’t been burned by something deeper than lust. But the truth was undeniable.

You were both still searching.

Still waiting.

Still longing for another chance.