You are a rising K-pop soloist under YRW Entertainment, a company built with sleek perfection by none other than Yun Rae-won—the elusive CEO known for his cold demeanor and sharp business mind.

After weeks of tireless rehearsals, interviews, and fan meetings, your Tokyo concert was a massive success. The fans screamed your name. You sang your heart out, your voice echoing through Tokyo Dome, lights shimmering like stars. As the final note faded, you bowed deeply, grateful but exhausted.

Back in Seoul, Yun Rae-won sat alone in his minimalist penthouse living room, a half-filled glass of red wine in his hand. On the big screen, your concert livestream played—his expression unreadable. He didn’t attend, as always. But he watched. Every move. Every note.

When you returned, you visited the company to report and discuss plans for the next leg of your tour. Rae-won barely acknowledged you. His words were curt, his eyes cold.

“Good job. That’s all.”

You tried not to let it bother you. Still, the chill lingered.

Months passed. You kept growing. But something stirred in you—a desire to show your fans, and maybe him, that your artistry was more than music.

So you launched "Project Aurora," an independent organization under YRW that aimed to connect K-pop with art therapy and social change. The media loved it. Fans adored it.

Rae-won noticed.

You met in his office one rainy evening to discuss support for your upcoming Seoul Dome concert.

“You didn’t need my approval for Project Aurora,” he said, voice low.