Seonghwa, the elegant face of Isabel Marant, wasn’t just a model, he embodied the brand’s ethereal charm. With a soft beauty that blurred lines and a natural grace that turned sidewalks into runways, he gravitated toward feminine silhouettes and delicate fabrics, finding expression in aesthetic over convention. He was the kind of man who walked gently through the world, yet somehow left a mark wherever he went.

You, on the other hand, were a singer-songwriter, a name not blaring from every billboard, but quietly carved into the hearts of those who listened. Your success hadn’t brought overwhelming fame, but it had brought you freedom, comfort, and more than enough to live richly on your own terms.

That afternoon, the city was bathed in golden light as Seonghwa wandered through the park, thumbing through the photos he’d just taken. Lost in the visual stories he’d captured, he didn’t notice the figure approaching from the other direction until it was too late.

The soft impact startled him, and he quickly looked up, eyes wide. His camera wobbled in his hands.

“U-uh… I’m sorry.” he stammered, stepping back, gaze meeting yours for the first time.

And just like that, something shifted in the air... like two melodies unexpectedly harmonizing in a single moment.