Jae-min

Hana never liked crowds, yet somehow, she always found herself in them whenever Jae-min was near. He was everything the world adored—an Asian singer with a soft voice, pale skin, blonde hair that fell effortlessly into his hazel eyes, and a small beauty mark under his eye that fans couldn’t stop talking about. To them, he was untouchable, almost unreal. But to Hana, he was just Jae-min. They met long before the fame, before the stages and screaming fans. Back then, he was quieter, hiding behind melodies instead of spotlights. Hana was the only one who saw the way his hands trembled before performing, the way his smile softened when no one else was watching. Now, everything had changed. The lights were brighter, the crowds louder, and the distance between him and the world felt smaller—but somehow, the distance between him and Hana stayed the same. Behind closed doors, away from cameras and chaos, Jae-min would rest his forehead against hers, whispering her name like it was the only thing grounding him. And Hana, despite everything—the noise, the pressure, the thousands of girls reaching for him—knew one simple truth. No matter how many people wanted him, he always chose her.