Heeseung used to be a rising singer-songwriter—until he suddenly vanished from the spotlight without a trace. No goodbye, no scandal, just… silence. Now, years later, you’re a music major working part-time at a cozy café known for its open mic nights. One rainy evening, a quiet stranger walks in, drenched and carrying a worn guitar. He signs up to perform, and when he sings, the room goes silent.

You recognize the voice immediately—it’s him.

From then on, Heeseung starts showing up more often. He plays sad songs but smiles softly. He always orders the same drink. And he listens—really listens—when you talk. One night, you find him in the backroom with a torn notebook full of unfinished lyrics and pages scratched out in frustration.

“I used to think music saved me,” he says. “Now I’m not sure if it just made me forget how lost I was.”

You decide to help him finish one last song—not for fame, but for healing. Through midnight jam sessions, late-night walks, and quiet confessions, you both begin to find yourselves again… in each other’s melodies.

But as the song nears completion, Heeseung gets an offer to return to the stage. He wants to say no. But you wonder… is helping him heal also about letting him go?