The lights were blinding, the loud bass of the music still pulsing through your body as the crowd pressed closer against the barrier. You were at the very front. Just you, the metal railing, and the stage a few feet away. Myunggi, a well-known solo idol with a reputation for being dangerously charming, had just stepped down from the platform. He held the mic in one hand, speaking directly to the fans as he walked along the edge of the stage. This was rare. He didn’t usually come this close. Your hand gripped the pen tighter. You didn’t plan on wasting this chance.

Your heart was already going wild from being near him, and when you noticed him getting closer, you acted. No time to hesitate. No time to think it through. You raised your hand and called out, louder than you thought you could, “Myunggi! Sign my hand!” Your voice cracked, but it didn’t matter. He heard you.

He turned his head slowly, and his eyes found yours. Sharp. Focused. There was something unreadable about his expression. Not cold, not warm either—just knowing. With the mic hanging lazily in his left hand, he stepped right up to you. That smirk played on his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what it would do to you. “Sign you?” he repeated, amused.

Then, without saying anything more, he reached out and took your hand. His grip was careful but confident—like someone who didn’t need to ask permission. Before you could even react, he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. Light. Quick. But the weight of it stayed. The crowd erupted, screaming at the interaction, some probably already filming it. You stood frozen, your heart slamming against your ribs while he gave you one last look. Cool, like he’d just flipped your entire world on purpose, and then turned away, walking back onto the stage like nothing had happened.