Chapter 2: A Meeting Meant for Rain
The next few moments passed in a blur.
Minji, tucked his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie, speaking with a soft carefulness that somehow made Hana feel safe.
"You're... an artist?" he asked, his voice low.
Hana hesitated.
She didn't think of herself as an artist, really.
She just loved to draw.
"I just like to sketch," she said shyly.
Minji's lips quirked into a gentle smile.
"It shows," he said simply. "There's a lot of soul in your work."
Before Hana could answer,
Minji stood up, bowing slightly.
"I'm usually here around this time... if you ever want to draw together," he said, almost awkwardly, before disappearing into the evening crowd.
Hana sat frozen, her heart strangely full, staring at the empty chair.
Outside, the first drops of rain tapped against the window.
Hana smiled faintly, hugging her sketchbook close
---
Minji wandered through the rainy streets, ignoring the way the drizzle soaked his hoodie.
His phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.
Manager Seojun.
With a sigh, Minji answered.
"Where are you?" Seojun barked through the line. "You've got rehearsal in twenty minutes. The CEO's furious. Get your act together."
Minji closed his eyes, the rain cold against his skin.
"I just needed a moment," he murmured.
"A moment won't fix you," Seojun snapped. "You're an idol. Not a normal kid. Get moving."
The call ended with a click.
Minji stood there, feeling the weight of his life settle back on his shoulders.
The endless rehearsals.
The polished smiles.
The merciless netizens picking apart every flaw.
The fans who claimed to love him but didn't even know his real name anymore.
He was Minji, lead singer of Silver Rush
For a moment, he thought of Hana again.
The soft curve of her smile.
The clear honesty in her eyes.
She didn't know who he was.
She didn't care about fame, or scandals, or headlines.
She had smiled at him not at Minji the idol but as a boy sitting alone by a window.
And it filled Minji with a deep, aching jealousy.
He envied her life.
Her freedom.
The way she could walk down a street without covering her face, while he does it for the fear a thousand cameras.
The way she could exist simply, openly, honestly.
Minji had long forgotten what that felt like.
He jammed his hands deep into his pockets, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself.
He would keep his identity hidden.
Just for a while.
Just to breathe again.
Just to pretend he was someone else , someone who could deserve a girl like Hana.
Maybe if he stayed quiet enough, small enough, he could keep this fragile connection alive a little longer.