MAIN LEADS

JIHOON LEE (K-POP STAR)

AYESHA VERMA (INDIAN SPY)

PROLOGUE

"K-pop Star, Indian Spy"

A cold breeze swept through the bustling streets of Seoul, carrying with it the flickering lights of neon signs and the distant hum of excited fans gathered outside the grand concert hall. They were here for one thing—Jihoon Lee, the shining star of South Korea’s global K-pop scene. His face graced every billboard, his voice on every radio station, and his charm captivated millions. Yet, as his fans screamed his name, unaware of the world around them, something darker was brewing beneath the surface.

Ayesha Verma stood in the shadows, her gaze fixed not on the glitz and glamour but on the hidden truths lurking behind the K-pop façade. Clad in a simple black coat, blending into the sea of fans, her mind wasn’t focused on Jihoon’s music or his charm. No, her thoughts were consumed with a mission that had dragged her halfway across the world.

Ten girls were missing.

Indian students who had come to Korea either to study or attend concerts—Jihoon's concerts, no less. Their sudden disappearance was written off as girls "running away," but Ayesha knew better. She had read between the lines, piecing together the mysterious disappearances that others had conveniently ignored. The moment she found out her cousin, Anjali, was one of the missing, it had become personal.

No longer just a mission, it was her reason to keep pushing forward.

Her orders from the Indian government were clear—investigate, infiltrate, and find the truth. But this mission carried more weight than anything she had taken on before. The higher-ups didn’t want to acknowledge the growing list of missing girls. No, they preferred to maintain appearances, to keep their political ties intact. It left her little choice but to operate in the shadows, out of reach of authority, out of sight of prying eyes.

The concert hall’s doors swung open, and the crowd surged forward. Amid the chaos, Ayesha slipped inside unnoticed, scanning the packed arena, her senses heightened. Somewhere in this city lay the answers she desperately sought. Somewhere in this glamorous world of flashing lights, high notes, and starry-eyed fans, darkness had taken root.

And it all seemed to center around one man—Jihoon Lee.

Her heart beat faster, not from nerves, but from the creeping suspicion that Jihoon knew more than he let on. He was untouchable, Korea’s golden boy. No one would believe he was involved. But Ayesha wasn’t here to be charmed. She was here to find the truth.

As the stage lights blazed and Jihoon appeared, his eyes momentarily locking with hers across the sea of screaming fans, she felt an eerie connection. He noticed her. But it was more than that—he recognized something, something that left her skin prickling with suspicion.

This was no ordinary mission. She wasn’t just chasing missing girls. She was about to uncover something far more dangerous, and Jihoon, whether knowingly or unknowingly, was in the center of it all.

The stage erupted in music, but Ayesha’s world was silent. The real game had just begun.

The thundering bass of the music vibrated through the concert hall, the synchronized movements of Jihoon and his group drawing screams from the sea of fans. The flashing lights, the fog from the stage effects, and the electrifying atmosphere made it feel as though nothing else existed outside of this moment. Jihoon Lee, the golden boy of South Korea’s K-pop industry, was in his element, commanding every gaze, every cheer, every heartbeat.

But Ayesha Verma wasn’t here as a fan, nor was she swayed by his charisma. Hidden in the crowd, she had blended seamlessly among the audience, her trained eyes darting around the hall, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. She didn’t care for the music or the glamour. Her focus was elsewhere.

Suddenly, a shift in the crowd caught her attention. Her senses sharpened, and her body tensed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure moving against the flow of excited fans—someone who didn’t belong. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she turned slightly, her eyes narrowing.

A man, dressed in dark clothes, was approaching her through the throngs of concert-goers. He wasn’t there for the music, and Ayesha could tell he had spotted her too. She felt the adrenaline surge through her veins, her body reacting on instinct. In an instant, the man lunged at her, his hands reaching for her. Ayesha dodged just in time, slipping through the crowd like a shadow.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed his arm and twisted, sending him crashing into the people around them. They screamed, backing away in confusion, unsure if this was part of the show. The man's eyes blazed with fury as he regained his balance and lunged again, but Ayesha was faster. She countered with a swift kick, sending him stumbling back into a row of chairs.

All the while, Jihoon and his group were still performing on stage, completely unaware of the chaos beginning to unfold in the audience.

Ayesha’s movements were fluid, precise, the product of years of training. She couldn’t afford to blow her cover, not now. The last thing she needed was attention, but her attacker was relentless. With each strike, the crowd became more aware of the commotion, and soon a circle had formed around them. People were gasping, whispering, and some even had their phones out, recording the fight as if it were part of the performance.

Ayesha’s mind raced as she deflected another blow, but before she could react, more men appeared from the shadows. Two, three, then four—it was an ambush.

Damn it, she thought, her heart pounding. I’ve been made.

The fight grew fiercer as Ayesha found herself fending off multiple attackers. Fists flew, feet connected, and gasps of shock echoed around them. The crowd was in a frenzy now, not knowing whether to be terrified or entertained. The group of men closed in on her, and she could see their intention—they wanted to drag her out of the hall, away from prying eyes. But she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Another punch came her way, and she ducked, slipping past her attacker. In one swift move, she delivered a spinning kick that sent one of the men crashing into the barricade separating the stage from the audience. The force of the blow sent the barrier shaking, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.

Jihoon, mid-performance, glanced over just as Ayesha was thrown toward the stage. She caught herself on the edge of the platform, her body tense, muscles burning from the effort. Her masked face briefly caught the stage lights, casting long shadows behind her as she struggled to regain her footing.

The attackers, realizing they had lost control of the situation, pressed forward, more desperate than ever. One of them reached out and yanked at Ayesha’s mask, ripping it off before she could stop him. Her long dark hair spilled out as she jerked away, but it was too late.

Her face was exposed.

Her eyes locked with Jihoon’s across the stage. For a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze in place. The music faded into the background, the screaming fans blurred into nothingness, and all that remained were Jihoon’s piercing gaze and the look of shock on his face as he took in the sight before him.

Who was this woman? Why was she here, in the middle of his concert, fighting like a trained professional?

Ayesha’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly pulled her mask back up, her mind racing. She had no time to think about what Jihoon had seen or what it meant. She needed to get out of there.

But Jihoon had already seen her. He had seen her face.

The attackers lunged again, and with a swift motion, Ayesha leapt onto the stage, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She darted past Jihoon, using the confusion to her advantage, and landed behind the stage, disappearing into the darkness.

Jihoon, still stunned, watched as security rushed the stage, trying to contain the chaos. But his mind was elsewhere—on the woman who had just vanished, leaving more questions than answers.

As Ayesha slipped into the shadows backstage, her breathing heavy and her heart racing, she knew things had just gotten far more complicated. She had made a mistake. Now, not only did she have enemies coming for her, but the one person she needed to avoid—the golden boy of K-pop—had seen her.

And in that fleeting moment when their eyes met, something in Jihoon shifted. He would remember her.

But how did she end up here, in Korea, at a K-pop concert, fighting off attackers?

That answer lay six months ago, when it all began.

Six months ago, the streets of Seoul were abuzz with whispers of missing girls, a wave of anxiety washing over the Indian community in Korea. Most of the vanished were students who had come to study, and their families were frantic, desperate for answers. The Korean authorities, however, maintained that the girls had simply run away, seeking freedom or adventure. But the families knew better; their daughters were not the kind to abandon their loved ones without a word.

Ayesha Sharma, a covert operative for the Indian government, was assigned to investigate the troubling cases. She was young, determined, and highly trained, with a resolve forged from a deep sense of justice. She had spent the last six months undercover in Korea, alongside her partner, Raj, gathering intel and piecing together the puzzle of the missing girls. Their mission was delicate and dangerous, requiring them to tread lightly while seeking the truth in a foreign land.

As she adjusted to life in Seoul, Ayesha immersed herself in the local culture. She learned Korean, made connections, and often frequented places where the girls had last been seen. Ayesha discovered that many of the missing girls were fans of Jihoon, the K-pop sensation whose concerts were a cultural phenomenon. Each girl’s disappearance seemed to coincide with Jihoon’s tour dates, making him a key figure in her investigation.

“Most of these girls were last seen at his concerts,” Raj had remarked one evening, a concerned furrow on his brow. “We need to get closer to him if we want answers.”

Ayesha nodded, her heart racing at the thought. She wasn’t a fan of K-pop; her world revolved around serious matters, but she understood the power of celebrity in Korea. It could be both a blessing and a curse. Jihoon’s influence reached far beyond the stage, and if anyone held the key to the girls' fates, it would likely be him or his inner circle.

Days turned into weeks, and Ayesha and Raj meticulously plotted their approach. They attended Jihoon’s concerts incognito, blending into the sea of fans, desperately seeking clues. Their efforts were slow-going, and Ayesha’s frustration grew. She was determined to find the girls, to uncover the truth, and the mounting pressure weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Finally, the day of Jihoon’s concert arrived. The venue was packed, a vibrant sea of lightsticks and ecstatic fans. Ayesha and Raj, cloaked in anonymity, managed to secure spots close to the stage. The atmosphere was electric, a testament to Jihoon’s star power. Ayesha watched as he emerged, his voice resonating throughout the auditorium, igniting wild cheers from the crowd.

Despite the energy surrounding her, Ayesha's mind was sharp, focused. She scanned the crowd, searching for anything unusual. As the performance continued, she noticed a group of men lurking at the back, their eyes scanning the audience with a predatory intensity. Her instincts kicked in. Something wasn’t right.

Before she could process her thoughts, chaos erupted. The men moved through the crowd, pushing people aside, heading straight for Ayesha and Raj. A sense of urgency flooded through her veins. Instinctively, she grabbed Raj's arm and pulled him closer.

“We need to get out of here,” she whispered urgently, but it was too late. The men had already surrounded them, and the fight broke out.

Ayesha’s training kicked in. She had faced danger before, and she wasn’t about to back down now. She fought fiercely, using every move she had learned. Punches flew, and adrenaline coursed through her, heightening her senses. She was in the zone, blocking blows and retaliating with precision. But the attackers were relentless.

Suddenly, she found herself knocked to the ground, her mask slipping slightly. Panic flared in her chest. She couldn't be recognized; her cover depended on remaining unseen. In the chaos, she wrestled to regain control, pushing back against her attackers.

Amidst the melee, a sound cut through the din—the unmistakable voice of Jihoon, who had momentarily stopped singing as the commotion unfolded on stage. Ayesha looked up just as Jihoon’s gaze fell upon her. Time seemed to freeze as their eyes met. His expression shifted from surprise to concern, and she felt an inexplicable connection, a spark of recognition that momentarily threw her off guard.

Before she could recover, someone yanked her mask away, exposing her face to the crowd. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Jihoon had seen her.

With a burst of adrenaline, she fought harder, determined not to let their encounter define her. She kicked, punched, and weaved through the crowd, evading the men as best as she could. Her focus was unwavering, but her heart raced not just from the fight but from the knowledge that Jihoon now knew her face.

After what felt like an eternity, Ayesha managed to escape the grasp of her attackers. She dashed out of the chaos, her heart pounding in her chest. Behind her, she could hear Jihoon calling for security, but she didn’t stop to look back. She had to disappear, to regroup and think about her next move.

In the aftermath, she slipped into a nearby alley, her breath ragged as she leaned against the cool wall, collecting herself. Panic coursed through her veins as she recalled Jihoon’s penetrating gaze, the moment of vulnerability that had left her exposed. She needed to act quickly. The fact that Jihoon had seen her face could jeopardize everything.

Ayesha’s mind raced with possibilities. She had to regain control of the situation. In a split-second decision, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a quick message to Raj, letting him know she had escaped but needed to regroup.

But what would she say to Jihoon if their paths crossed again? Would he recognize her as just another fan caught in the fray, or would he realize the gravity of the situation—the truth behind her presence at his concert?

Ayesha took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. She was in too deep now, and there was no turning back. She would have to confront Jihoon, find a way to make him understand that their lives were intertwined in ways neither of them could fully comprehend yet.

As she glanced around the dimly lit alley, a sense of determination filled her. She wasn’t just there to gather information; she was there to uncover the truth, to seek justice for the girls who had vanished. And if Jihoon was part of that truth, then she would have to make him an ally—no matter the cost.

She pulled her hood up and prepared to face whatever came next.