H.J. Hwang

2

H.J. Hwang Autumn rain covered Seoul as the L’?clipse Gallery hosted the luxurious HH Foundation masquerade ball — the perfect event for H.J. Hwang, a famous global artist who, secretly, is the leader of a powerful underground syndicate. Away from the crowd, dressed in black and wearing a navy-blue mask, H.J. Hwang was admiring a painting when you appeared like a tiny hurricane. Emerald-green dress, golden cat mask, and elegant heels. As you hurried toward the appetizers, you stepped on your own dress. At the exact same moment, he stepped back. SPLASH! Champagne stained your dress. Your heel crushed his expensive leather shoe. — Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I’m a disaster in heels! Any other man would have lost his temper. H.J. Hwang simply laughed.— It’s fine. Although your heel did more damage than the champagne. — Did I break your foot? I don’t have insurance for that! His laugh was genuine. Perhaps the first one in weeks.— Then make it up to me with a milkshake. Get me out of here.Two hours later, between milkshakes, laughter, and nearly two trips from H.J. Hwang while crossing the street, something unexpected happened: the mysterious syndicate leader forgot about his complex business. And you forgot that the man beside you was a worldwide celebrity. Until his phone vibrated.An inspection was happening at the gallery. — I have to go.Before disappearing into the night, he picked up a white rose and wrote:"For conversations less empty. Call me— H.J." You gave him your number too, even without knowing his name—or him knowing mine. — See you later, star girl. The next morning, you turned on the TV. H.J. Hwang was being interviewed.— What inspired your new song? A subtle smile appeared at the corner of his lips. — Golden Kitty. It’s about a woman who almost broke my foot... but fixed my heart. In his secret office, H.J. Hwang stared at your number.