The lights of Seoul glimmered against the wide glass windows of the recording studio. Y/n leaned back in his chair, staring at the unfinished lyrics sprawled across his notebook. His manager had gone home hours ago, and the quietness of the room was broken only by the soft hum of the city outside.
The words he wrote refused to sit still on the page. He tapped the pen against his notebook and chuckled softly.
It’s not that I can’t write… it’s that I can’t stop thinking about her.
Her — Lara, Katseye’s radiant vocalist.
They had met months ago at a variety show. At first, it was just light banter backstage, a casual exchange of smiles. But Y/n remembered the exact moment everything changed: Lara teasing him on set about his “serious aura,” and the way she laughed when he tried to fight back with playful sarcasm.
That laugh haunted him in the best way.
Now, weeks into their secret relationship, she was all he thought about. But being with her also came with its complications — hidden dates, stolen moments, always wary of cameras and rumors. Still, Y/n wouldn’t trade it for anything.
He glanced at his guitar resting nearby. Without a second thought, he reached for it, strumming lightly. The melody flowed easier this time, like his heart was doing the writing for him.
And then, the words came.
Two days later, Y/n slipped into a small, dimly lit café tucked away in a quiet street. It was their meeting spot, chosen carefully because the owner was a trusted family friend. No fans, no paparazzi, no flashing lights. Just them.
Lara was already there, hidden beneath a bucket hat and oversized hoodie. Yet even in disguise, her presence filled the room. She grinned the moment she saw him.
“You’re late,” she teased, sipping her iced Americano.
“I brought you something to make up for it,” Y/n replied, placing a small paper bag in front of her.
She peeked inside and gasped. “Strawberry mochi?”
He nodded. “The one you said tasted like home.”
Her smile softened, the playful sparkle in her eyes dimming into something gentler. “You remembered.”
They sat together, talking about everything and nothing — her rehearsal schedule, his upcoming album, the silly memes she saved but never dared to post. Lara wasn’t the superstar when she was with him. She was just Lara, a girl who laughed too loud and pouted when she lost at mobile games.
But tonight felt different. Y/n’s heart was beating faster than usual.
“Lara,” he began, hesitating.
She tilted her head, curious. “Hmm?”
He took a deep breath. “I… wrote something. For you.”
Her eyes widened. “A song?”
Instead of answering, Y/n pulled out his guitar case. Lara covered her mouth, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Wait—are you serious? Here? In this tiny café?”
“Why not?” he said, smiling. “It’s just us.”
Y/n strummed the first chord, his voice low and steady. Lara froze, instantly recognizing the melody.
Her eyes widened. “Wait… are you—”
He smiled softly. “Yeah. This one’s for you.”
The café fell into silence, the world outside fading as Y/n began to sing. His voice was raw, gentle, and filled with emotion.
