Alara held the golden chalk in her palm, her eyes darting toward the door. Outside, the clatter of dishes echoed through the hallway—the familiar, grounding soundtrack of her middle-class reality. But inside her room, a different world existed; a sacred corner draped in MidnightBlue.
Every inch of this small space was a tribute to LUMENIX. From the blue ribbons tied to her lamp to the hidden sketches of Lee su-ho—her soul lived within the melodies he sang. To the world, he was LUCIAN, the untouchable lead vocalist, but to Alara, he was everything. When Dong-min cried on screen during a concert, Alara's own pillow would be soaked with tears in this humid Asian city, thousands of miles away.
"We breathe the same air," she whispered to the empty room, "yet our worlds are so far apart."
She reached for her craft supplies, determined to drown her longing in art. She began to work on a new painting, one more beautiful than any she had done before. Time slipped away as she focused on the curve of his smile and the light in his eyes. By the time she neared completion, it was already midnight.
A sharp, parching thirst hit her. Her throat felt like sand, and her eyes landed on the GoldenChalk sitting on her desk. She had tried to use it on her sketches earlier, but the chalk refused to write on paper. It remained stubborn and dry, as if it weren't meant for art at all.
Frustrated and tired, she grabbed the chalk and walked toward the wall. She didn't want to walk to the kitchen; it felt too far, and she didn't want to wake her family.
I wish I could just be in the kitchen right now, she thought.
She pressed the chalk against the faded wall and moved her hand in a wide arc. To her shock, the chalk didn't crumble. It glided like liquid fire. A brilliant golden glow erupted from the plaster, and as the circle closed, a door manifested out of thin air.
Alara froze. Through the shimmering golden ring, she wasn't looking at her bedroom wall anymore. She was looking directly into her kitchen. She could see the moonlight hitting the countertop and the water pitcher sitting exactly where she had left it.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Terrified yet curious, she reached her hand out. Her fingers passed through the glow and felt the cooler air of the kitchen. It was real. This wasn't a dream.
Panic suddenly overtook her wonder. What if someone sees? She scrambled back, frantically rubbing at the golden line with her sleeve until the portal vanished and the wall became solid stone once more.
With trembling hands, Alara shoved the chalk into a box and snapped the lid shut. Her thirst was forgotten, replaced by a haunting realization. If she could reach the kitchen, she could reach Seoul. She could reach him.