The fragile, suspended reality we had built within the four walls of that green room was suddenly shattered by the sharp click of the door handle.
I jumped slightly, the spell breaking as Min-ho, the sharp-eyed manager, stepped back into the room. He tapped his wristwatch with a polite but urgent expression.
"I apologize for the interruption, Sir," Min-ho said, bowing slightly toward Woonseok before turning to us. "But we have to leave in exactly two minutes. The security detail is waiting to escort the convoy back to the agency."
Woonseok let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, a fleeting shadow of disappointment crossing his striking features. He nodded at his manager. "Understood, Hyung. Give us two minutes."
The spell had officially broken. The heavy, beautiful weight of our conversation dissolved back into the fast-paced reality of an idol's life. I immediately stood up, smoothing the shimmering peacock-blue silk of my saree, suddenly acutely aware that I was taking up the precious, fleeting time of one of the biggest stars in the world.
Sanvi and Anvi scrambled to their feet as well.
"Thank you," I said, my voice finally steadying into something resembling the composed officer I usually was. I offered a deep, respectful bow. "Thank you so much for the precious time you gave us, Sir. It means more to me than I can ever express in words."
Sanvi, ever the bold one, suddenly gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my gosh! Sir, before we go... can we please have your autograph? And maybe take a quick picture?"
I blinked, my eyes widening in sheer realization. A picture? An autograph? In all my overwhelming excitement, in the emotional tidal wave of handing him my letter and telling him my story, I had completely forgotten the most basic rituals of meeting an idol.
Woonseok chuckled, a rich, melodic sound that seemed to chase away the lingering melancholy in the room. "Of course," he smiled, reaching over to a nearby table to grab a sleek black marker. "It would be my pleasure."
He signed their VIP passes with practiced, graceful sweeps of his hand, and then turned to me, signing the back of my concert ticket.
"Okay, guys, give me a phone," I ordered softly, slipping easily into my role as the reliable friend. "Let me take the pictures for you."
"Are you sure, Rashi?" Anvi asked, handing over her phone.
"Yes, go on. You two first," I smiled, stepping back to frame the shot.
Sanvi and Anvi hurried over, standing on either side of Woonseok. He was tall, his broad shoulders easily dwarfing my friends as he offered a brilliant, picture-perfect smile to the camera. I adjusted the cinematic lighting of the room on the phone's screen, making sure the vanity bulbs cast a soft, ethereal glow over them. I snapped a few photos, capturing their giddy excitement perfectly.
"Okay, my turn!" Sanvi declared, marching over and snatching the phone from my hands. "Sana, get in there. You crossed an entire ocean for this man. I am not letting you leave this room without photographic evidence."
My heart did a sudden, violent flip. I looked at Woonseok, who was standing in the centre of the room, his hands clasped politely in front of him, waiting for me.
I walked toward him, my steps feeling agonisingly slow. Suddenly, my confidence evaporated again. I was painfully aware of my height, my dark hair, the heavy silk of my saree, and the fact that I was standing next to a man who looked like he had stepped out of a digital illustration.
I stopped about two feet away from him, leaving a very polite, very noticeable gap of empty space between us. I clasped my hands nervously in front of me, offering the camera a shy, timid smile.
Woonseok's Perspective
I watched as she took the photos of her friends, her dark eyes focused, ensuring the lighting was perfect. She looked breathtaking standing there, the iridescent greens and blues of her outfit catching the light with every movement.
But when it was her turn, she froze.
She walked toward me with the hesitance of a deer stepping into a clearing. When she finally stopped, she was standing far enough away that I could have fit another person between us. Her hands were clasped tightly together, her face flushed, her eyes fixed determinedly on the camera lens.
She was trying to be respectful. She was trying to be the "good fan" who knew her boundaries.
She doesn't know, I reminded myself, a bittersweet ache blooming in my chest. To her, I am untouchable. A star behind a glass wall.
I wanted to bridge the gap. I wanted to reach out, wrap my arm around her waist, and pull her close enough to smell the jasmine in her hair. I wanted to lean down and whisper that she didn't need to stand so far away from the man whose wallet she had scolded him for losing.
But Min-ho was watching. Sanvi and Anvi were watching. And I was supposed to be Park Woonseok, the professional.
So, I kept my hands to myself, offering a gentle smile to the camera, acutely aware of the magnetic pull radiating from the beautiful, nervous girl standing just out of my reach.
Click. "Perfect!" Sanvi cheered, looking at the screen. "You guys look amazing."
THE SECRET RENDEZVOUS
"Thank you again, Sir, for your time," I said, bowing deeply one last time in the traditional Korean style as my friends gathered their belongings.
We turned toward the door, Min-ho holding it open for us. The meeting was over. My dream had been fulfilled. I had done it.
But as my hand touched the doorframe, a sudden, nagging thought pierced through the euphoria. My hand flew to my clutch, feeling the small, rectangular box hidden inside. The gift. I stopped dead in my tracks.
I turned around slowly. Woonseok was still standing in the center of the room, his dark eyes fixed on me, watching me leave.
"Sorry, Sir," I started, my voice wavering slightly. I bit my lip, feeling incredibly embarrassed for dragging this out, but knowing I couldn't leave South Korea without fulfilling my promise. "But... can I ask you something?"
Woonseok tilted his head slightly, his expression instantly softening. "Of course, Sana. Anything."
I shifted my weight, my fingers nervously pleating the edge of my saree. "Actually... it's about your friend. The one who gave me the ticket."
Woonseok's breath visibly hitched, though he covered it quickly by shifting his stance.
"He... he helped me so much the other night," I continued, a flush creeping up my neck. "I bought a little gift for him. Just a small token of my appreciation. And I really want to give it to him personally. To say a proper thank you. Can you please tell me... when and where I might be able to find him to give it to him?"
I looked down at the carpet, entirely mortified. "I am so sorry for asking you something like this. I know it's inappropriate. But he was just so kind to me, and I don't have his contact information."
THE LIE THAT BOUND THEM
Woonseok's Perspective
My heart completely stopped beating. The blood rushed in my ears, drowning out the ambient noise of the room.
She bought a gift. For my 'friend'. For me.
Panic, brilliant and sharp, flared in my chest. My mind raced through a hundred different scenarios in the span of a single second. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't stand here in my designer suit, surrounded by my security detail, and say, 'Surprise, it was me all along.' It would ruin everything. The shock would be too much. The press might find out.
But if I said I didn't know where he was, I would lose my only chance to see her outside of these four walls. I would lose the chance to be the man she had met under the streetlamp, rather than the idol she worshipped.
"Ah," I managed to say, clearing my throat to buy myself a fraction of a second. I looked into her earnest, pleading eyes. She was so incredibly sincere.
I need a location. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere in the dark, where I can wear my mask and be just a guy again.
"My friend," I said slowly, testing the weight of the lie on my tongue, "is very elusive. He doesn't like crowds."
Sana's face fell slightly, disappointment shadowing her eyes.
"However," I added quickly, my voice dropping into a low, conspiratorial murmur that made her look up instantly. "I happen to know his schedule for tonight."
I took a step forward, closing the distance she had so carefully maintained during the photograph. I looked down into her eyes, feeling a reckless, thrilling surge of adrenaline.
"You can meet him tonight," I said softly, my gaze locking onto hers. "At 9:00 PM. At Seoul Tower. By the love locks."
Rashi's eyes widened, a sudden, radiant smile breaking across her face like a sunrise. The sheer relief and joy in her expression made my chest physically ache.
"Seoul Tower," she repeated, committing the location to memory, her hands clutching her purse tightly. "9:00 PM. I will be there."
"A lie told to protect a secret is a dangerous game, but a lie told to protect a heart is the beginning of a magnificent story."
She gave me one final, deep bow, the peacock feathers of her silk shimmering under the vanity lights.
"Thank you so much, Sir," she whispered, her voice overflowing with gratitude. "For everything."
"Have a safe evening, I replied, watching her turn around and walk out the door, her friends flanking her.
As the heavy door clicked shut behind her, sealing the quiet of the green room once more, I let out a long, shuddering breath and collapsed back onto the sofa. I ran a hand through my hair, a wildly inappropriate, ecstatic laugh escaping my lips.
Seoul Tower. 9:00 PM. I had exactly three hours to strip away the idol, put on my black hoodie, and run to the top of the city to meet the girl who had just turned my entire world upside down.