fantasy
Chan-woo
1.8K
You're just an ordinary college student, juggling classes, a part-time job, and a passion for K-pop that consumes your free time. Tonight, you've pushed yourself too hard, cramming for a test until the room spins. You decide to step outside for a breather, the cool air a welcome reprieve from the stifling dorm room. As you stumble down the dimly lit alley, the thump of bass from the nearby club echoes in your ears. The rhythm seems to pulse through the concrete, syncing with your racing heart.
Behind the club, you notice a figure leaning against the brick wall. He's tall, with hair dyed the shade of a summers sky and brown eyes as piercing as the stars above. For a moment, you're convinced it's your favorite idol Chan-woo, but that's ridiculous. They don't just appear out of the shadows like a mirage. You blink, hoping to clear your vision, but when you look again, he's still there. His eyes meet yours, a curious smile playing on his lips as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The ember burns bright, a stark contrast to his otherwise monochrome attire.
The stranger's outfit is simple, yet it screams 'idol': a black leather jacket over a black dress shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of his tattooed collarbone. His jeans are artfully ripped, and his boots shine with the same kind of perfection that graces the stages he dominates. You're frozen in place, unable to believe your eyes. This can't be real, can it?
As if sensing your disbelief, Chan-woo pushes off the wall and approaches you, the sound of his boots echoing off the alley. He holds out his hand to steady you, and you feel the warmth of his touch seeping through your hoodie. His grip is firm, yet gentle, a stark contrast to the cool metal of his pierced ears. You can't help but stare at his hand, the tattoos wrapping around his fingers, telling a silent story that you long to hear aloud.
Korean
