I step into the venue, and the air buzzes with excitement. The crowd is already roaring, and my frantically beating heart immediately joins them.
Right. Breathe. I am not just Ahn Seo Yeon today. I am Lee Ye's manager for the day, and I am totally qualified, completely professional, and absolutely not screaming internally...
The van door slides open, and chaos explodes.
Fans surge forward, security struggles to maintain order, and colorful banners wave wildly in the air. The noise is deafening—screams, chants, sobs of pure devotion. And then he steps out.
The Lee Ye Jun.
Black shades. Effortless smirk. That calm, untouchable aura... making the screams triple.
Honestly? Fair.
If I weren't standing behind him pretending to look important, I would absolutely be in that crowd too, waving a banner that says "Marry Me, Oppa."
Instead, I square my shoulders and clutch my clipboard like it contains the secrets of the universe.
"Okay, Ahn Seo Yeon," I whisper under my breath. "You are a professional. You are calm. You are capable, and you are not going to embarrass yourself."
Inside, the venue pulses with energy. His hit song "Baby Please" blasts through the speakers, and the entire crowd sings along before he even reaches the stage.
When he finally steps into the spotlight, the screams are unreal. The pride that swells inside my chest surprises me, because I didn't write the song, nor did I train for years.
But somehow, seeing him up there feels personal.
The Q&A session begins.
A bold fan grabs the mic. "Oppa! What's your ideal type?"
The room goes dead silent.
I stop breathing.
He leans back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully, then flashes that devastating smile.
"Someone who loves Korean traditional dishes as much as I do."
The crowd erupts in laughter, and I roll my eyes, fighting my own grin.
Oh, please. As if that's all.
As the event continues, I'm everywhere at once—organizing autograph lines, collecting gifts, coordinating security, guiding nervous fans forward.
Handmade bracelets. Letters. Plushies. Snacks... One girl hands him a giant stuffed bear so large it almost knocks him backward.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around it dramatically. "This is going straight to my bedroom."
The poor girl nearly faints on the spot, and the crowd erupts with excited screams.
I mutter under my breath, sarcastically, "Of course it is."
But the truth? Watching him interact with the fans so gently, so patiently—it softens something in me.
Between tasks, I overhear whispers.
"He's so perfect."
"I love him so much."
"I hope he stays single forever."
I nearly choke.
Single forever? Absolutely not—
Wait. Why am I reacting? Focus, Ahn Seo Yeon. Focus!
When the meet-and-greet finally winds down, my feet are screaming in protest inside my heels, and my brain feels like it ran a marathon. But beneath the exhaustion?
I feel... alive.
"I can't believe I got to be part of this." I think as the last fans reluctantly leave.
Back in the van, silence replaces chaos.
Soft instrumentals of his songs play in the background, and I watch as the city lights blur past the window. Sitting there in his seat, he looks tired but satisfied.
Then he glances at me.
"Thanks for today." he says simply. "You did well."
My heart does something ridiculous and dramatic inside my chest.
"Oh, well. I tried my best not to ruin your career." I reply.
A faint chuckle escapes him, making me smile.
When we arrive at his mansion, moonlight casts silver shadows across the driveway.
"It's late." he says casually. "You've had a long day. Stay over tonight. I will order pizza."
Stay over.
Pizza.
Normal words, but not a normal effect on my heartbeat.
"Okay." I say, aiming for calm and casual. Anything but the chaos erupting inside me.
Once in my room, I find the bathroom and freshen up quickly, only to realize I have no spare clothes.
Fantastic.
I throw the sky blue jumpsuit back on. Not ideal, sure... But workable? Absolutely!
When I step into the hallway, I hesitate for a moment before making my way up the stairs and toward his room. I knock softly, but there's no response. He's probably in the shower. After waiting a second longer, I turn and wander toward his study instead, noticing that the door is slightly open.
Curiosity wins, as it always does, and the moment I step inside, I freeze in absolute disbelief. Manga. Collectibles. Figurines. Posters. Everywhere. Floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with colorful spines and tiny plastic heroes striking dramatic poses. This is not the sleek, intimidating superstar image the public knows. This is not the cool, untouchable heartthrob plastered across billboards.
This is... painfully, irresistibly adorable.
I wander farther in, brushing my fingers along the shelves as if I've just uncovered state secrets. Lee Ye Jun is an anime nerd. A full-blown, unapologetic one, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from giggling out too loud.
My attention shifts to the massive desk in the center of the room. I've seen him disappear in here for hours. Writing lyrics? Composing melodies? Or watching anime? The mystery remains unsolved.
Then I spot it.
A book perched arrogantly on the very top shelf.
I glance around as if someone might judge me, before taking closer steps. I rise onto my tiptoes, stretching my arm upward with all the determination of a woman who refuses to be defeated.
Almost there.
Just a little—
Got it—
Nope.
The book slips from my fingers.
"Oh no—"
In a completely irrational act of heroism, I lunge forward to catch it. Unfortunately, gravity does not care about my bravery. My heel wobbles. My balance disappears, and my life flashes before my eyes in dramatic slow motion...
A scream tears out of me as I tip backward—
—and suddenly, I don't hit the floor.
Instead, strong arms wrap tightly around my waist.
Firm. Steady. Unyielding.
I collide with something solid. Warm. Very, very warm.
I blink once.
Then twice.
And then it hits me. Lee Ye Jun is holding me, wearing nothing but a towel... hanging oh, dangerously low in the lower part of his body.
Water droplets trail down his bare chest, his abs unfair, his shoulders... illegal. My brain shuts down. His wet hair clings to his forehead, making him look even more dangerous. Our eyes lock, and the air thickens.
"If you keep doing things like this," he murmurs near my ear, his voice lower than usual, "you're going to get yourself into trouble."
My breath trembles. "What kind of trouble?" I whisper before I can stop myself.
His lips curve slowly. "The kind where I might not stop myself."
Is Lee Ye flirting... with me?
My heart forgets how to function. He leans closer, close enough that I feel the heat of his skin against mine.
My eyes flutter shut instinctively. This is it. This is how I die...
Suddenly, a loud bang echoes from outside, and we both jerk apart. Shouting follows, and there is another bang.
"What was that?" I breathe, my heart hammering loudly against my chest. His expression shifts instantly—playful gone, serious mode activated. He disappears into his room, emerging minutes later, fully dressed, with an annoyed expression written all over his face.
We rush downstairs together. And that's when we see them. A group of fans at the gates, shouting, pushing, phone cameras flashing. My stomach drops.
Then his voice cuts through the noise, low, sharp, and unmistakable.
"Ahn Seo Yeon."
I freeze, feeling a jolt run through me from head to toe.
Did Lee Ye Jun just... say my name?