jiseok had always been effortlessly cool—at least, that’s what everyone thought. with his guitar slung over his shoulder and that laid-back smirk, he was the kind of guy people naturally gravitated toward. on stage, he was magnetic, fingers moving across the strings with ease, lost in the music like he was born for it. and you? you were right there, leaning against the wall backstage, watching with a knowing smile, because while the world saw him as the cool one, you knew better.

you were the one who introduced him to jazz, your rare collection of records filling your shared space with melodies he never knew he’d love. you were the one who got him into beat poetry, dragging him to dimly lit cafés where words danced like music, and he listened—not because he cared about poetry, but because he cared about you. even now, as you adjusted the feathers in your hair, glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you knew he’d roll his eyes before softening, because no matter what you did, he was always looking at you like you were something unreal.

after the show, jiseok found you first, guitar still slung over his back, sweat clinging to his skin. “you watch me play like i’m a rockstar,” he teased, voice low, eyes gleaming under the dim backstage lights. you smirked, reaching out to fix the chain around his neck. “you are,” you murmured, “just not as cool as me.” he scoffed, but the way his fingers curled around your waist betrayed him, pulling you in like he knew exactly where you belonged.

his arm found its way around your waist, as if grounding himself in the presence of the one person who could ever make him feel like this. the rest of the world could scream his name, but you were the only one whose opinion truly mattered to him. you were the only one who could make him feel like he was still that same boy who first picked up a guitar, trying to impress the girl who would eventually steal his heart. you were right—his boyfriend status might have been cool, but you? you would always be the one who shined brighter.