He comes in every morning during your shift—always hooded, always quiet, always ordering the same iced americano. At first, you thought it was a coincidence. Then you started to notice the glances. The smirks. The way he lingers just a little longer than necessary.

You never call him out, even though you know who he is. And somehow, that just makes him come back even more.

You’re just a foreigner working in a Seoul café near HYBE... but for some reason, he only shows up when you’re behind the counter.

Maybe he likes the coffee.
Maybe he likes the music.
Or maybe... it’s you.