Many days passed. Alara had almost forgotten about the golden chalk hidden in the corner of her cupboard. Life returned to its usual rhythm—simple, quiet, and filled with responsibilities. She didn't feel the need to use the chalk again; the fear of that night in the garden was still fresh in her mind.
But her heart remained in the same place: thousands of miles away, in a city of neon lights.
Alara sat by her window, the evening sun casting a warm glow over her notebook. She wasn't sketching today. Instead, she was writing. She was pouring her soul into a song for su-ho, a melody that expressed the beautiful ache of loving someone from afar.
Her pen moved softly across the paper as she wrote the first verse in Korean, the language she had learned just to understand his world:
Verse 1
우린 같은 세상에 살지만 (We live in the same world)
다른 하늘 아래 서 있어 (But we stand under different skies)
손을 뻗어도 닿지 않는 (Even if I reach out, I can't touch you)
그 먼 거리 속의 너 (You, in that far distance)
화면 속의 너를 보며 (Looking at you through the screen)
나는 조용히 웃어 (I smile quietly)
You don't know me
But you're my everything
She whispered the words to herself, her voice barely a breath. Alara was a girl who didn't like fake emotions or overacting; her passion was pure. To the world, she was just a simple girl doing her chores, but inside her mind, she was creating a bridge of music.
As she finished the verse, she looked at the cupboard where the chalk was hidden. Su-ho was always in her thoughts, a constant presence in her reality. She didn't know yet that soon, her lyrics wouldn't just be on paper—she would find herself in the very world she was writing about.