The heavy, soundproof door of the green room clicked shut behind us. For a brief, suspended moment, the three of us stood frozen in the stark, concrete hallway of the arena. The sterile fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead.
I looked at Sanvi. Sanvi looked at Anvi. Anvi looked at me.
"Did that..." I started, my voice barely a breathless squeak.
"Did we just..." Anu whispered, her eyes wider than I had ever seen them.
"AHHHHHHH!"
The scream erupted from all three of us simultaneously. We threw our arms around each other, jumping up and down in the middle of the empty corridor like absolute lunatics. The polished composure of the IPS officer, the calm maturity of the eldest daughter—all of it shattered into a million pieces of pure, unadulterated teenage joy.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" I chanted, clutching the signed concert ticket to my chest. "Please, someone pinch me! Tell me this isn't a dream! If I wake up right now at my study desk in Delhi, I swear I will cry for the rest of my life!"
Sanvi reached out and pinched my arm—hard.
"Ouch!" I yelped, rubbing the spot.
"Not a dream!" Sanvi laughed, tears of excitement streaming down her face. "Sana, you just talked to him! You held his hand! And oh my god, the way he looked at you when you gave him that letter? The man was mesmerised!"
"He is so much more handsome in real life, it's actually unfair," Anvi swooned, fanning herself with her hand. "The jawline? The voice? And he was so polite! Sana, you won at life today."
I leaned against the cool concrete wall, trying to catch my breath, my heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I can't believe it. I really can't. He has the letter. He has my sketch. He knows my name."
"There is a profound, terrifying beauty in the moment a lifelong dream steps out of your imagination and breathes the same air as you."
We managed to compose ourselves just enough to walk out of the venue without causing a scene. The crisp night air of Seoul hit us as we stepped out onto the street, the towering cityscape glittering against the dark sky.
I glanced at my watch. The glowing digital numbers read 8:30 PM.
My breath caught. 9:00 PM. Seoul Tower.
I hailed a passing taxi, ushering Sanvi and Anvi into the backseat before sliding in beside them.
"Guys," I said, leaning forward as the taxi merged into the bustling Seoul traffic. "It's already eight-thirty. You two go ahead to the hotel. I'll drop you off, but I need to keep the cab."
Sanvi frowned, leaning over. "What? Where are you going so late, Sana? The fan meet is over."
"I have to go to Namsan Tower," I explained, pulling my clutch onto my lap. "Woonseok told me his friend—the one who helped me in the park—is going to be there at 9:00 PM. I promised myself I would give him the thank-you gift before we leave Korea."
Anvi looked a little worried. "Are you sure you want to go alone? It's getting late. We can come with you."
"No, no, it's okay," I smiled reassuringly. "You guys have been on your feet all day, and your legs are killing you. Go back, order some room service, and relax. I just need to hand him the gift and say a quick thank you. I'll be back at the hotel in an hour."
Sanvi sighed, knowing once I made up my mind, there was no changing it. "Okay, fine. Miss Independent Officer. But keep your location on, and call us if you need anything, alright?"
"I will," I promised.
The taxi pulled up to the glittering entrance of our hotel. I hugged them both quickly before they stepped out into the night. I watched them walk into the lobby, and then I turned to the driver.
"Namsan Seoul Tower, please," I said in polite Korean. "As fast as you can."
The drive up the winding roads of Mount Namsan was a blur of shadows and distant city lights. By the time the taxi dropped me off and I navigated my way up to the famous observation deck—the plaza known for its thousands of colorful 'love locks'—it was almost nine o'clock.
I stepped off the final escalator and walked out onto the open-air terrace. The cool wind immediately caught the heavy silk of my peacock-blue saree, whipping the pallu around my shoulders like a pair of iridescent wings.
I paused, looking around in confusion.
The terrace was completely empty.
Usually, Namsan Tower at night was teeming with tourists, couples taking selfies, and families enjoying the view. But tonight, the vast wooden deck was eerily silent. The only sound was the wind rushing through the metal fences, rattling the thousands of brass and silver padlocks attached to them.
"That's strange," I murmured to myself, walking slowly toward the edge of the railing. "People usually come at this time. Why is no one here?"
I didn't know that miles away, a frantic idol had called his manager and pulled a massive favor with the tower's management, renting out the entire deck for a 'private agency shoot' just to ensure a girl wouldn't be overwhelmed by a crowd.
I walked to the railing and looked out. The view hit me with the force of a physical blow.
All of Seoul was spread out beneath me—a sprawling, endless ocean of diamonds, gold, and neon. The Han River sliced through the city like a ribbon of dark glass, reflecting the lights of the bridges. It was vast, silent, and overwhelmingly beautiful.
As I stood there, looking down at the world, a sudden, immense wave of emotion crashed over me.
I am here, I thought, my hands gripping the cold metal of the railing. I am actually here.
I thought of the little girl in DELHI who had cried herself to sleep because the pressure of being the eldest was too heavy. I thought of the late nights, the empty bank accounts, the endless textbooks, the sacrifices my parents had made, and the sacrifices I had made for them in return. I thought of the impossible exam I had cleared, the uniform I wore with pride, and the dream of meeting Park Woonseok that I had carried like a secret flame.
Everything had led to this exact moment.
I threw my head back, looking up at the endless, starless sky. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the cold Seoul air, and let out a massive, joyful scream.
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
There was no one to hear me. No one to judge the strict IPS officer for losing her composure. My voice echoed over the empty deck, swallowed by the vastness of the city.
Tears—hot, happy, entirely unburdened tears—spilt over my eyelashes and raced down my cheeks. I started laughing, a wet, breathless laugh that shook my entire body.
"I did it!" I shouted to the empty sky, spreading my arms out wide. "I finally did it! I achieved everything I ever wished for!"
I brought my hands to my face, wiping away the tears of sheer triumph. I clasped my hands together, closing my eyes tight.
"Thank you, God," I whispered into the wind, my voice breaking with overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you for giving me everything. Thank you for not letting me break when the world was too heavy."
"There is a specific kind of magic in the tears we cry at the summit of our struggles; they are the rain that washes away the pain, leaving only the beautiful bloom of victory."
My heart felt so light it was practically floating out of my chest. I couldn't just stand there. I needed to move. I needed to celebrate.
I pulled my phone from my clutch and opened Spotify. I scrolled past the K-pop playlists, bypassing the international hits, until my thumb landed on the perfect song. The song that always made me feel like the main character in a Bollywood movie.
'Uff Mere Dil Mein Thodi Khali Si Jagah Thi...'(Oh, there was a little empty space in my heart...)
I slipped my Bluetooth earbuds into my ears. The upbeat, infectious rhythm of the Hindi song flooded my senses. The lyrics sang of a heart that had a space, suddenly filled by magic and love.
I closed my eyes. The wind caught my hair, blowing the dark strands wildly across my face. I let the music take over.
I started to move. Slowly at first, just swaying my hips to the beat, the heavy, metallic bangles on my wrist chiming together. Then, the chorus hit. I spun around, the peacock-feather colors of my saree flaring out in a magnificent circle in the dim light of the observation deck.
I wasn't an officer right now. I wasn't the eldest daughter carrying the weight of her family. I was just a twenty-four-year-old girl, standing on top of the world, dancing with the wind, completely and utterly lost in the pure, unadulterated happiness I had carved out for myself.
THE BOY IN THE SHADOWS
Woonseok's Perspective
9:15 PM. I was late.
I sprinted up the final flight of stairs leading to the observation deck, my lungs burning. I had practically thrown my designer suit at my stylist, shoved on my baggy black jeans, a heavy black hoodie, a face mask, and a low-pulled baseball cap. Min-ho had thought I was losing my mind, but he had made the calls. The deck was cleared.
Please be there, I chanted in my head, my combat boots hitting the wooden planks of the deck. Please haven't left.
I rounded the corner past the walls of colourful love locks, out of breath, my heart hammering in my throat.
And then, I stopped dead in my tracks.
The wind had picked up, sweeping across the high altitude of the tower. And there she was.
She wasn't waiting nervously by the railing. She wasn't checking her watch or looking impatient.
She was dancing.
I stood frozen in the shadows, entirely captivated. She had small white earbuds in her ears, her eyes tightly closed. Her dark hair was a wild, beautiful storm, whipping around her face in the wind. The iridescent green and blue silk of her dress twirled around her ankles, shimmering under the soft amber lights of the tower like the plumage of an exotic bird.
She was moving with a grace and freedom that took the air straight out of my lungs. A massive, radiant smile was plastered across her face—a smile so pure, so unguarded, that it made my chest physically ache.
"We spend our lives trying to capture beauty in photographs and paintings, entirely forgetting that the most breathtaking art is a human being, completely lost in a moment of untethered joy."
I couldn't move. I didn't want to interrupt. I just stood there in the cold night air, the most famous man in South Korea, completely reduced to a silent, awestruck boy watching a girl from India dance under the sky.
She spun again, her bangles catching the light, completely lost in her world. And I, standing in the shadows, was completely and helplessly lost in her.
"She was just existing "
"while he was busy admiring her"