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“Daaad! I’m totally in the zone right now! I’m almost done, seriously!”
Kim Dojin protested in the most pitiful voice he could muster, nose practically touching his laptop screen.
With the design contest deadline looming and his job hunt making every day more desperate, this was sacred work time.
After several sleepless nights, he’d finally nailed down his concept, and his fingers were flying across the keyboard.
And now his dad was calling him from outside the room?
“Screw your ‘zone.’ You need to head to the airport.”
“What? The airport? I’m seriously busy right now! I have to finish this today!”
Dojin slumped back into his chair and shouted in protest.
“I’m busy too, you brat! Seoyeon just called—she said a friend of hers is flying down to Jeju last minute and asked if we could pick him up. I’ve got dinner to prep, so I can’t go. You’re going instead.”
“Seoyeon noona?”
Dojin tilted his head.
It had been… what, a few summers ago?
She came down from Seoul saying she needed inspiration for her designs and stayed a whole month in their guesthouse.
Tough but cool, with an easygoing charm that made her surprisingly sociable—even with him. His dad had doted on her like a daughter.
Even after she returned to Seoul, she’d stayed in touch with his dad regularly.
And now one of her friends was coming?
“If it’s her friend, he’s probably a grown-up too. He can get around by himself! It’s not hard to catch a taxi these days!”
Dojin pouted.
He was only helping out at the family-run guesthouse temporarily while pretending to “prepare for job applications” in Jeju, but airport pickups were not part of his job description.
He didn’t want to lose the precious inspiration he’d finally gotten his hands on.
But his dad, as always, had no sympathy.
“It’s Seoyeon’s request. You think I can just say no? If you want a fat allowance this month, you better go—no complaints!”
The finishing blow.
“Name’s Seo Yoonwoo. I’ll text you the flight number. Don’t be late!”
Seo Yoonwoo.
The moment he heard the name, Dojin’s ears perked up.
His eyes darted from his dad to the laptop in disbelief.
“Wait… Seo Yoonwoo?”
That name—he knew that name.
It was the same as the Seo Yoonwoo—currently the hottest, most controversial name in the design world.
The very person whose work he’d been studying all night in awe.
Sharp and modern, yet infused with warmth and humanity.
Rumored to be cold and blunt in person, but already a legend in the industry.
Dojin had multiple magazines with his interviews and regarded him as his ultimate role model.
“Wait, wait—is it that Seo Yoonwoo? The designer Seo Yoonwoo?!”
He asked again, incredulous.
“How the hell would I know if he’s a designer or not? Seoyeon just said he’s a friend. Now get ready and go!”
His dad cut him off and disappeared into the kitchen.
Dojin stared at his laptop in a daze.
‘Seo Yoonwoo. Coming to our guesthouse? Here in Jeju?’
No way.
Still… he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
The contest deadline was already slipping from his mind.
“No, no. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kim Dojin. It’s probably just someone with the same name. There must be tons of Seo Yoonwoos in Korea. And why would the busy, elite designer be coming to Jeju now, of all times?”
He tried to calm himself, but his footsteps were already lighter.
He hated abandoning his project mid-flow, but the combined threat of his dad’s wallet and that tiny flicker of hope pushed him out the door.
Pulling on a hoodie, he hopped into his dad’s old pickup truck, secretly more excited than he wanted to admit.
‘Seo Yoonwoo… If it’s really him, I’ve got to get an autograph! Or maybe a photo? Ugh, would that be too much? What if… what if I could even get feedback on my design?’
Filled with naïve hope, Dojin raced toward Jeju Airport.
In front of the airport, Dojin clutched a small piece of paper with the flight number and the name “Seo Yoonwoo” scrawled on it in messy handwriting.
It was a late-night flight, so the airport wasn’t too crowded, but the arrival gate still had a fair number of people waiting.
He debated going inside when the gate opened and passengers began trickling out.
Eyes wide, Dojin started scanning the crowd for Seo Yoonwoo.
Was he tall? Short? What kind of style would he have?
His eyes sparkled with curiosity and anticipation.
And then—his gaze stopped.
Next to a pillar, just outside the exit, stood a man with a small suitcase at his side.
He looked utterly out of place, like he existed in a different time, a different world entirely.
Dojin forgot how to breathe for a moment.
Even at a glance, the man’s frame was thin—almost too thin.
His skin was pale as snow, almost glowing in the dark.
He wore sleek black slacks and a crisp white shirt, topped with a beige coat, likely for the chilly Jeju night air.
The outfit was polished and stylish, yet hung just a little loose on his narrow body, giving off a precarious, delicate impression.
His features were as delicate as if drawn with a brush, exuding a beauty that transcended gender.
Beneath long, thick lashes were large eyes whose depth was impossible to gauge.
Though those eyes now stared into the void, empty and unfocused, it felt as if they still held some profound story within them.
And yet, that face didn’t feel unfamiliar.
Dojin felt his heart plummet.
He had seen that face before—in magazines, in online articles, in the countless portfolio profile photos he’d admired with reverence.
It was the same face.
No, it was even more beautiful than in the pictures—so much more… captivating, so much more capable of pulling at a person’s heart.
“…No way.”
Dojin’s heart began to pound like it would burst.
As if in a trance, he stepped toward the man.
The closer he got, the more surreal the man’s beauty became.
His crimson lips starkly contrasted his almost ghostly pale skin.
A beauty mark rested just beneath one eye.
A sharp jawline, a slender, elegant neck—he looked like a painting.
His very existence felt like a perfectly composed design.
And when Dojin got just a bit closer, he was certain.
The man was Seo Yoonwoo—the designer he had admired for so long, whose works he had sought out over and over again.
‘Gasp! That’s really Seo Yoonwoo? No way! Oh my god!’
Dojin barely managed to swallow the small gasp that nearly escaped his lips.
A shiver of disbelief and joy rushed through his whole body.
To meet the designer he admired so deeply—and at Jeju Airport, of all places!
He was so flustered he didn’t know how to greet him or what expression to wear.
But he followed his plan anyway, awkwardly lifting the sign he’d prepared, steadying his voice, and putting on the brightest smile he could muster.
“Um… you’re Seo Yoonwoo, right? I’m here to pick you up for the guesthouse…!”
But his cheerful greeting froze in an instant.
Up close, Yoonwoo looked nothing like the genius designer Dojin had imagined.
His eyes were empty, gazing blankly into space.
His water-red eyes, swollen lids, and trembling lashes looked on the verge of bursting into tears at any moment.
It was as if a deep sorrow and despair clung to his entire being like a shadow.
Even his dazzling beauty now seemed tragic under the weight of his sadness.
He looked like a fragile shard of glass—ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
“…Huh?”
The excitement and thrill Dojin had felt as a fan evaporated, leaving only genuine concern and confusion in his expression.
‘Why… why was he crying? Or is he still crying? He looks so incredibly sad… Did something happen? Was I too enthusiastic and made him uncomfortable?’
His head spun with questions.
The joy of meeting his idol was quickly overtaken by a greater sense of worry—wondering why someone so beautiful looked so sorrowful and fragile.
Should he ask if he was okay?
Or pretend not to notice and treat him just like any other guest?
Would it be rude to ask what happened?
But he couldn’t just leave him like that…
To see someone so beautiful wearing such a heartbroken expression—it was unbearable.
Dojin stopped a few steps away, awkwardly fidgeting with the piece of paper that had “Seo Yoonwoo” written on it.
With his naturally kind nature, he wanted more than anything to approach Yoonwoo and ask if he was alright, ask what had happened.
But he was afraid—afraid to recklessly touch a wound that might not be his to address.
His face was filled with sincere concern and helpless confusion.
‘What should I do?’
All he could do was watch, worry in his eyes, as Yoonwoo stood there like a wounded little bird, so precariously fragile.
A heavy sense of helplessness settled over Dojin—he didn’t know why he was feeling this way, why it hurt so much—but standing before Yoonwoo’s deep sorrow, he felt painfully small and powerless.
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Do you know when more advanced chapters will be uploaded? Tysm for translating!!
Gosh, I cry and I cry…