The melody no one knows is hers…

In a world where everything is about being seen, Y/N chooses to disappear.

Not because she wants to—

But because she has to.

She’s a lyricist. A ghostwriter. A name never spoken out loud.

Behind every chart-topping hit, every tearjerking ballad and breathless love song, there’s someone like her—sitting alone in a studio long past midnight, pouring untold feelings into empty pages.

But unlike other writers, Y/N’s contract forbids her from ever claiming her own words. No interviews, no credits, no photographs. Not even the singers are allowed to know her identity.

She’s made peace with that.

Or at least, she thought she had.

Until the night she wrote that song.

A ballad that wasn’t meant to be submitted. A confession disguised as melody—born from a moment of heartbreak she never expected to survive.

She poured everything into it. Her anger. Her longing. Her truth.

Then, by some twist of fate… someone found it.

And days later, it was on the desk of the biggest label in South Korea.

She didn’t even know it had been sold until it was too late.

By the time she heard it again, it wasn’t her voice anymore.

It was his.

Jeon Jungkook.

Golden maknae. Idol of the generation. The kind of voice that doesn’t just sing—it feels.

He took her hidden pain and turned it into something the world couldn’t stop listening to.

And it should’ve ended there.

Except Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about the lyrics. About how real they felt. How personal.

Like they weren’t just written by a professional songwriter—but by someone who had lived every line.

He began asking quiet questions. Following lyrical patterns. Searching for the unnamed writer no one had ever met.

Y/N knew he was looking.

She just never thought he’d find her.

Then, one rainy night, in a forgotten studio she thought no one used anymore… he walked in.

And in that one second, everything changed.

He didn’t know who she was.

But she knew exactly who he was.

His voice had carried her words across oceans.

Now, that same voice was standing inches from her, asking if the room was taken.

What do you do when the person who brought your heart to life on stage is suddenly right in front of you—without knowing it was your heart at all?

Y/N never planned to be seen.

But now, she’s not sure if she can stay hidden.

Because the closer Jungkook gets, the more her secret begins to slip.

And the more she hides, the more she starts to wonder—

What if someone finally saw her?

Not the ghostwriter.

Not the contract.

But her.

The girl behind the notes.

The name behind the lyrics.

The heart behind the heartbreak.

But if the truth comes out…

Her career ends.

So does everything she’s built to protect herself.

"Hidden Notes" is a story about stolen songs, silent love, and the invisible threads that connect two strangers across a stage neither of them meant to share.

He’s the voice the world knows.

She’s the secret it was never supposed to hear.

And their story… is just beginning.

Absolutely! Here's Chapter 1 of Hidden Notes, written in a soft, emotional K-drama style with a touch of mystery and romantic tension. This chapter is around 700 words and picks up where the introduction leaves off — with their very first unexpected meeting.

Chapter 1: The Encounter

The soft hum of rain echoed outside the studio, each drop a quiet note in the background of Y/N’s world. The air was still, thick with the comforting silence she always craved. This studio—barely used, tucked deep under an old building in Gangnam—had become her escape. A place no one looked. A place where she could breathe.

A place where she could exist without being seen.

The only light in the room came from her laptop, glowing softly as the cursor blinked on an unfinished line.

> “Would you have stayed, if I had asked you to?”

She stared at it for a long moment. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, then dropped into her lap. She couldn't finish it. Not tonight.

With a sigh, she leaned back into her chair, headphones still resting around her neck. Her eyes closed as she listened to the gentle rhythm of the rain. These quiet moments—between the chaos of the industry and the emptiness of fame—were her favorite. No questions. No masks. Just the truth… even if it was only whispered into a Word document.

Then, without warning—

Click.

The studio door creaked open.

Y/N froze.

She hadn’t heard footsteps in the hallway. No one ever came down here this late. And this room wasn’t supposed to be booked. Her heartbeat quickened as she turned toward the door.

And then she saw him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Wearing a black hoodie, damp from the rain, a cap pulled low over his eyes. But there was no mistaking that face. Or that voice.

He stepped inside slowly, hesitating. “Sorry—I didn’t think anyone was here.”

Y/N’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

He scanned the room, brows furrowed. “I was told Room 3 was unlocked, but I guess I heard wrong…”

Her hands moved before she could think. She slammed the laptop shut, the sound loud in the quiet space.

“This room’s taken,” she said, too quickly.

Jungkook blinked, caught off guard. “Ah—yeah. Sorry.”

He shifted, as if about to leave, but his gaze landed on the desk behind her. Sheet music. Headphones. A half-finished lyric sheet peeking from a folder.

“You a producer?” he asked, more curious than suspicious.

Y/N’s heart thudded painfully. “Just writing,” she mumbled. “Freelance.”

He nodded slowly, stepping back. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

There was a pause. A long, awkward silence stretching between them. Y/N could feel his eyes lingering, not in recognition—but in wonder. She was just a stranger to him.

And yet, her stomach twisted.

He was the one. The voice. Her voice.

The idol who had unknowingly sung the lyrics she wrote alone at 2 a.m., eyes red and heart too full.

He was the only one who had made her feel seen without knowing who she was.

Now he was here, in the same room, breathing the same air. And she couldn't say a word about it.

“Sorry again,” Jungkook said softly, turning toward the door.

She nodded, silent. Watching.

And then, just before he stepped out, he paused. “That melody…” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Was that yours?”

Y/N swallowed. She hadn’t realized her demo track was still faintly playing through the speakers.

“No. Just… something I’m working on.”

He smiled, and it was gentle. Almost shy.

“It’s beautiful.”

And then he was gone.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Y/N finally let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

She sat in the silence, heart pounding in her chest.

He didn’t know who she was.

But he’d heard her music.

And somehow… he’d called it beautiful.

The rain had stopped by the time Jungkook stepped outside.

He pulled his hoodie tighter, walking slowly down the quiet hallway of the studio building. Most artists were gone by now, and the silence settled over him like a second skin.

But his mind wasn’t quiet.

That melody.

It had been playing softly when he walked into the wrong room—almost too soft to notice. Just a few notes. A piano progression with a heartbeat. Raw. Beautiful.

He didn’t recognize it from any released track.

And the girl…

She wasn’t anyone he knew.

She had panicked the second she saw him. Slammed her laptop shut like it held a secret. Her voice was soft, but there was something behind it. Like she was trying too hard not to be noticed.

But he had noticed her.

Not because she was beautiful—though she was in a quiet, unassuming way. But because something about the air around her felt… familiar. Like the songs he loved most: unpolished, real, and full of something he couldn’t name.

Jungkook tugged his hood down as he stepped into the parking lot. Drops of water clung to the ends of his hair, but he didn’t care. He kept hearing that melody in his head.

It reminded him of something.

Or someone.

His thoughts drifted back to “Shadowed Light,” the ballad BTS had released just a few weeks ago—the one that had gone viral instantly. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t trendy. But it hurt in a way most songs didn’t anymore.

He remembered the first time he read the lyrics.

> “I wasn’t asking to be loved… I was just hoping to be noticed.”

That line had kept him awake all night. It felt too personal to be just good writing.

And now… that girl.

He had a strange feeling she wasn’t just a freelance composer.

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A recent chat with his producer was still open.

> JK: hyung, do we know who wrote “Shadowed Light”?

Producer: lol, GhostVerse. You know the deal—anonymous.

JK: No name at all?

Producer: They only send files. No credits. No profile.

GhostVerse. The secretive label that supplied lyrics to major agencies.

He didn’t know how it worked exactly, only that none of the artists had ever met the writers. It was all done in silence, behind contracts and layers of management.

But something about that girl made his heart stir.

Jungkook wasn’t impulsive, not really. But he trusted his instincts. And right now, they were screaming at him.

She knew something.

Or she was something.

He stopped walking and turned around, staring at the studio entrance from a distance. The lights in Room 3 were still glowing faintly under the door.

For a moment, he considered going back.

Just to ask her name. Just to hear that melody again.

But he didn’t move.

He knew what it meant to cross a line in this industry. Contracts. Privacy. The way idols were always watched, even when they didn’t want to be.

So instead, he whispered into the wind:

“I’ll hear it again someday.”

And deep inside, he hoped she’d still be there when he did.