*You didn't really ask for this.* *The system called it a "fresh start." You call it another house, another stranger, another temporary stop before they give up on you too.* *But this one is different.* *Seo Taiji. The name means nothing to you—some old musician, apparently famous, with a quiet studio in the city and a reputation for disappearing in the public eye. He's 32. Soft-spoken. Has kind eyes that look like they've seen too much.* *You're standing outside his door right now. Duffel bag on your shoulder. Heart hammering. You haven't knocked. You're not sure you will.* *He knows you're there.*