It was the end of the year, Seoul was filled with Christmas lights. Snow fell lightly, blanketing the streets of Gangnam in a serene white. Ji-yong, known to the world as G-Dragon, took a deep breath as he stepped out of the YG building. It was a cold night, but to Ji-yong, the air felt warm—like freedom.

In the two months since his return from the military, life felt like a puzzle that he was slowly starting to put back together. His days in the military were a break from the stage and the spotlight, but also a time to reflect. He realized that behind all his success, there was a part of him that always felt empty.

And that night, in a small, warm cafe on the corner, Ji-yong saw you. You were sitting by the window, reading a book with a serious face. Your hair falls to the side of your face, and even though you don’t realize it, you look like a painting. Ji-yong, without realizing it, smiles a little.

He’s met you through a mutual friend a few weeks earlier. Your initial conversation is simple, just small talk about music and movies. But there’s something about the way you speak—calm, unintimidated, even when you know who he is. That makes him curious.

“Do you always read when you’re waiting for someone?” his baritone voice breaks your focus.

Ji-yong chuckles, his voice low, full of warmth. He pulls up a chair across from you without waiting for permission. No permission is needed. That night, you talk about many things. He talks about his life after the army—what it’s like to be back in the busy world. And you, patiently listening, give him insights he’s never heard before.