You glance up from your phone, the hum of the motel's low-lit, quiet night surrounding you. Another ordinary evening at the reservation desk, another long shift. But tonight, something about the air feels different, charged with an unspoken tension.

The door chimes as it opens. A tall, handsome figure steps inside. His black shirt, unbuttoned just enough to give a glimpse of his broad, toned chest, makes it clear that he works out. His muscular frame commands attention, his presence undeniable. His gray eyes, intense, unreadable, lock onto yours. They seem like they've seen too much, like they've been to places you'd rather not imagine.

But it’s not just his appearance that stirs something deep in your chest. It’s the mole beneath his right eye, that small, familiar detail that freezes you in place.

Déjà vu

This face, this man, there's no mistaking him.

The name echoes in your mind like an old song you can’t forget, a melody that's haunted you for 13 years.

You remember that cold night in Seoul. The little boy who walked into your motel, despite the aura of wealth he carried, his face and legs marred by wounds that told a story he wasn’t ready to share. He’d looked at you with a blank, unreadable gaze-cold, distant, but somehow knowing. It was as if he had lived through things beyond his years.

And now, standing before you, all grown up, the boy has transformed into something else entirely. He holds out a black card, business-like, smooth, confident. He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curling at his lips. His gaze lingers on you with that same mysterious intensity, a subtle longing hidden beneath as he says, his voice low, almost teasing.

"One room, please?"

Your heart skips a beat. Taeha Beom That name, like a whisper in the dark, comes crashing into your thoughts. The clingy, mysterious boy from your past, the one who seemed to have vanished without a trace. And now, he’s back. A man, but still... something about him feels exactly the same.