HA RI's POV
I didn't plan to follow him.
That's the first lie I tell myself as I sit in the back of a cab, eyes glued to the black van ahead, the one carrying Jin,the nation's newest obsession, the idol with the angelic smile and the voice that could melt glaciers.
The idol who disappears every night after rehearsals.
"Ma'am, should I keep following?" the driver asks, already suspicious. It's been twenty minutes since we left the broadcasting station, and we're deep in districts idols never visit.
"Yes," I say quickly. "Just… don't lose that van."
He makes a sound like he's judging my life choices. He isn't wrong.
My name is Ha Ri, and I am a rookie journalist clinging to the last thread of a dying career. My editor told me this morning:
"One more dull article, and you're out."
So when I noticed Jin slipping away at odd hours, wearing a mask and a cap even though the day's schedule should have sent him home… I followed.
It was stupid.
But what career-saving story ever came from playing it safe?
The van stops in an alley. Not a clean one. Not a safe one.
I duck behind a wall as Jin steps out.
Except it isn't Jin.
It's someone else wearing Jin's clothes.
A decoy.
My heart drops. Then where,?
A shadow passes behind me.
I whirl.
He's there.
Jin. But not Jin.
No glitter. No makeup. No smile sculpted for cameras.
Just a man in black, hood up, hands shoved in pockets, walking fast, head low, like someone used to avoiding bullets, not paparazzi.
And stupid me? I follow.
He moves like he knows these alleys.
I move like I'm going to die in them.
He slips into a rusted back door of a closed bar. I wait five seconds,just enough courage to be foolish,then push the door open.
Darkness. Smoke. Low voices.
And Jin,standing in front of a man whose presence makes my skin crawl. A man too expensive to be in a place this dirty. His rings gleam when he taps the table.
"You're late," the man says.
Jin bows slightly. "I had to shake the staff."
"Shake them better next time. Your father is losing patience."
Those words freeze my blood so hard I almost slip.
His father?
Jin's jaw tenses. "I said I'd pay off the debt. I'm keeping my word."
"And you will," the man says. "With your voice. With your face. With whatever the family requires."
Family. Debt. Father.
None of this belongs in the same sentence as K-pop.
The man tosses a small packet onto the table. Not drugs. Not cash. Something worse.
A list of names.
"Deliver these messages," he says. "Tonight. You know how."
Jin doesn't respond. He takes the list like it's a curse, tucks it into his jacket, and turns,
Straight toward me.
I gasp and run. I don't look cool. I don't look professional. I look like a chicken on wet ice.
"Hey!" his voice snaps behind me.
I push through the back door, sprinting into the street like a lunatic, but his footsteps are fast,too fast for someone who dances for a living. A hand grabs my wrist, spins me around, presses me back against the wall.
His hood falls.
And I am staring into the eyes of Korea's sweetheart.
But they are not sweet now.
They're furious.
Dangerous.
Wild.
"Why are you following me?" he demands.
My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
"You,you left early," I stammer. "I'm a journalist. I just,I thought,"
"You thought what?" he snaps. "That I sneak off to see some secret girlfriend? That you'd get a headline off my private life?"
"If that were all, I'd be relieved," I whisper.
He freezes. "What did you see?"
"Everything."
Silence crushes us.
Then he curses under his breath, tightening his grip on my wrist for half a second before releasing me like I'm a lit match.
"You shouldn't be here," he says quietly.
"That man,he said something about your father. And debt. And,"
"Stop." His voice breaks a little. "You don't understand what you walked into."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't." His breath shakes once. "It'll get you killed."
The streetlight flickers overhead. He steps back, hands trembling like he's fighting the urge to grab me again.
"Forget what you saw," he says.
"I can't."
"You must."
"I won't."
He laughs once,bitter, hopeless. "You're either brave or stupid."
"Desperate," I say honestly.
His eyes soften. Not much. But enough.
"Then you need to go home," he murmurs. "And pretend tonight never happened. Don't follow me again."
"What if someone else is already following you?"
He stops breathing. Just for a second.
Then he turns his face away. "Then you're already in danger."
My heart stutters.
He steps back into the shadows, pulling his hood up, melting into the alley like someone returning to a life he hates.
At the last second, he glances back.
There's no idol there.
Only a boy who looks tired of surviving.
"Stay alive, Ha Ri," he says.
And then he disappears.
SEO YUL / JIN's – POV
He shouldn't have spoken her name.
Seo Yul,known to the world as "Jin",walks fast, hands in pockets, lungs tight with regret.
He'd slipped.
Not with his steps.
With his voice.
He shouldn't have said stay alive.
He shouldn't have said her name.
Because names get people killed in his world.
The shadows move differently now. The city hums with danger. He hates how familiar it feels.
He thinks about Ha Ri,the girl with fire in her eyes and fear in her breath. She was clumsy, unprepared, reckless. She had no idea what she stepped into.
But when she looked at him, she didn't see a celebrity.
She saw the truth.
That alone terrifies him more than any mafia debt.
He turns the corner to deliver the messages,the kind of delivery that involves threats, warnings, and occasionally bruised ribs. His father's men are already waiting.
"You're late," one says.
Yul doesn't respond.
He's thinking of her.
Of how she ran.
Of how he grabbed her.
Of the way she said she couldn't forget what she saw.
She won't stay out of this.
He knows it.
And in his world, people like her don't last long.
HA RI's – POV
I can't sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see two versions of him, Jin, the glowing star loved by millions… and the man in the alley, whose eyes looked like they'd witnessed the worst parts of the world and were still waiting for something worse.
I open my laptop.
I shouldn't write about him.
But I also can't pretend nothing happened.
Instead, I type one sentence into a blank document:
"The most dangerous secrets are the ones carried by the people we worship."
Then I delete it.
Because if I write this…
If I publish this…
I will destroy him.
And maybe get myself killed.
I close the laptop.
And the moment the screen goes dark, my phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
My stomach drops.
I open the message.
"Don't go back to that alley. Don't try to find me. Don't mention tonight to anyone."
My breath stops.
Another message.
"I'm serious, Ha Ri. You're already too close."
And then, the final one:
"If anything happens… run."
My heart pounds.
I look around my tiny apartment like danger might crawl in through the air vents.
Then another message pops up.
"Goodnight."
Goodnight.
The most terrifying goodnight I've ever received.