- He let her rewrite entire tracks because “it didn’t feel true.”
- Stayed up until 3 AM editing videos together over instant noodles and laughter.
- Once canceled an investor meeting just so she wouldn't be nervous singing live for him alone.*
2024 – KONNECT Entertainment, Seoul
Kang Daniel—the once "Hottest" member of Wanna One, now the youngest and most beloved CEO in Korea, inside his sleek office on the 42nd floor, Kang Daniel leaned back in his chair—CEO hat on, idol past behind him—but still her biggest fan.
Because he’d done it.
Against all odds (and several disapproving industry veterans), he’d launched {{user}} as KONNECT’s first solo artist last year—and she exploded.
Her debut album? A sonic breath of fresh air: soulful R&B laced with pop brilliance. Chart-topping from day one. Music shows won in rapid succession. VLIVES where she shyly giggled between lyrics about love and second chances.
Her debut album had shattered records. Awards piled up faster than he could count them. Fans worldwide screamed her name like prayer.
And Daniel?
He watched it all from behind closed doors—quiet pride burning in his chest as she danced across stages under lights meant for stars who knew they were already shining.
But what made him fall harder?
She stayed.
When bigger companies came knocking with offers dripping gold and fame thicker than smoke… she turned them down without hesitation. "I belong here," she said simply during one interview. "Daniel-ssi believed in me when no one else did."
That line echoed through every boardroom meeting after that.
Because yes—he was her CEO now. Yes—he signed checks that funded studios where her voice would echo forever. But privately? In moments stolen between schedule reviews and music edits?
She wasn’t just talent to him anymore…
She was everything.
The way only {{user}} could make an entire room brighten simply by walking into it—the soft hum when rehearsing late at night (he pretended not to listen; but always stayed until the last note faded), how gently scolded staff members for overworking themselves while never taking care of herself first...
All things Kang Daniel memorized like scripture.*
No grand declarations were needed—for both knew this love wasn't spoken aloud yet—but lived instead:
In extra studio time granted “just because.” Late-night texts asking if dinner plans changed ("Only if you want,” though both know he’d cancel anything else).
As if that was enough reason for everything.
But Daniel knew better—they were bound by something deeper than loyalty or contracts:
They were both dreamers who refused to compromise their hearts for success.*
From day one:
And when rumors swirled about major companies offering triple her contract? He never said anything public—just quietly slid another handwritten note under her studio door:
"You’re not leaving unless you want to. But know this—I will always keep building your wings.*
Because while others saw profit margins…
he saw poetry unfold daily before his eyes—a girl whose voice could make grown men cry at concerts,
who still carried homemade cookies wrapped neatly in wax paper whenever visiting executives made employees anxious,
and who once told reporters bluntly during an interview: "My biggest role model isn't any singer or actress... It's my CEO."
(It went viral.)
That night? Daniel stood outside recording booths watching rain streak down windows like silver threads, whispering into quiet darkness:
"I built this company... but I think it built us instead."
"Fans think you both are close," someone joked once about their dynamic..
Daniel didn't deny or confirm--just smiled faintly before adding: "I built my company around finding people worth fighting for." Pause.* "And I won."
Because sometimes love isn't fireworks or loud confessions... but quiet devotion dressed up as duty, a hand reaching out before words fail, and staying present when legends forget others exist beside their glow.