Seoul’s night sky shimmered with countless lights some from the glittering high-rises, others from the neon signs of convenience stores and bars that stayed open until dawn. For Hana, this city wasn’t just a new home; it was a living dream. She had come here with a suitcase full of determination and a heart full of hopes that one day, all her sacrifices would make sense.

At twenty-two, Hana was not just another dreamer. She was a woman who had fought her way through countless rejections and late nights to finally land a stable job in one of Seoul’s top entertainment companies as a manager’s assistant. It wasn’t glamorous, at least not yet. Most of her days were spent juggling schedules, coordinating transport, or picking up coffee orders for people who barely remembered her name. But to Hana, every errand felt like one step closer to the life she wanted.

Still, some nights, exhaustion hit harder than ambition.

It was one such night.

Dragging her tired feet along the quiet streets of Gangnam, Hana let out a long sigh. She had just wrapped up a fourteen-hour workday. Her hair was messy, tied up in a loose ponytail, and her blouse carried faint wrinkles from hours of sitting in a cramped office chair. Her phone buzzed endlessly with work notifications, but tonight, she decided to ignore them. All she wanted was a hot shower, some instant ramen, and her soft bed.

Her apartment was just two blocks away when she collided with someone hard enough that her phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the pavement.

“Ow!” she winced, steadying herself before glaring at the man she had bumped into.

The stranger wore a black hoodie pulled over his head and a black cap. Most of his face was hidden behind a black mask. Even in Seoul, where masks were common, his deliberate attempt to hide stood out. He bent down immediately, picking up her phone and handing it back to her.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was soft, husky, and oddly familiar.

Hana narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going? People actually use these sidewalks, you know.”

The man tilted his head slightly, clearly amused by her annoyance. “Noted. But you were staring at the ground too.”

Her cheeks warmed. He wasn’t wrong. She had been lost in her thoughts. Still, she crossed her arms stubbornly. “Excuses won’t work, mister.”

The stranger chuckled, a sound so smooth it sent shivers down her spine. His eyes crinkled above the mask, and for a moment, Hana thought they looked strangely familiar like she had seen them before, perhaps on a screen.

But she quickly shook off the thought. Seoul was huge, and celebrities didn’t just walk around in random alleys at midnight.

“You’re feisty,” he said, his tone playful now. “Most girls would’ve just asked for an autograph.”

Hana frowned. “Autograph? Why would I want that? You’re just some suspicious guy covering his face like a burglar.”

The stranger laughed again, louder this time. “Suspicious guy? That’s a first.”

Hana rolled her eyes and brushed past him. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this.”

But as she walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on her back.

Later That Night

Back in her apartment, Hana dropped onto her bed with a groan. The encounter replayed in her mind against her will. His voice…his eyes… Why did they feel so familiar?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hana,” she muttered to herself, covering her face with a pillow. “It’s not like you just bumped into Park Jimin on the street.”

Her heart skipped at the thought. Jimin. Her ultimate bias. Her reason for surviving the hardest moments in her life.

Growing up, when her parents constantly fought, when loneliness gnawed at her in the quiet nights, BTS’s music had been her refuge. Their lyrics reminded her that dreams were worth chasing and that pain could be turned into strength. Jimin, in particular, had always been her comfort. His smile, his voice, his stage presence everything about him had been a beacon of hope.

But that was fantasy. Reality was crueler. Reality was schedules, unpaid overtime, and ramen for dinner.

Hana shook her head and turned off the lamp. Tomorrow was another busy day. She couldn’t waste energy daydreaming about idols who didn’t even know she existed.

Or so she thought.

The Next Morning

Hana arrived at the office early, juggling coffee trays and files as usual. The company was buzzing with activity today apparently, one of their biggest clients was returning from a tour abroad, and preparations for the next project had already begun.

Her supervisor handed her a thick folder. “Hana, you’ll be joining the senior managers for a new assignment. BTS just signed with us for part of their promotions, and you’ll be supporting the logistics team.”

Hana’s eyes widened. “B-BTS? As in… BTS?”

Her supervisor gave her a dry look. “Yes, as in the world’s biggest boy band. Try not to lose your professionalism. You’re here to work, not fangirl.”

Hana swallowed hard and nodded quickly. “Of course. Work only.”

Her hands trembled as she clutched the folder. Inside were schedules, performance details, and travel plans all connected to the group that had been her everything.

She couldn’t believe it. Fate had brought her here.

Later That Day

The staff meeting room was buzzing with activity as BTS’s managers, stylists, and assistants discussed plans. Hana sat quietly, jotting down notes, trying her best not to look like she was about to faint.

She didn’t expect to actually see the members today. Usually, meetings were handled by managers first. But fate, it seemed, had other plans once again.

The door opened, and the room fell silent. BTS walked in, one by one, casually dressed but still radiating an aura that made the air feel heavy. Hana’s breath caught as her eyes instinctively searched for him.

And there he was.

Jimin.

He wore a simple black hoodie and cap. His mask covered half his face, but his eyes those same familiar eyes from last night met hers for the briefest second.

Hana’s heart stopped.

It couldn’t be.

No. It was.

The man she had called “suspicious” and “like a burglar” was none other than the idol she had admired for years.

Her blood drained from her face.

Jimin, on the other hand, seemed oddly entertained. His eyes softened with recognition, and a faint smile tugged beneath his mask.

After the Meeting

Hana tried to escape quickly, but a hand gently caught her wrist as she walked out of the conference room. Startled, she turned and froze when she saw him.

“Miss suspicious,” Jimin whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “We meet again.”

Her throat went dry. “Y-you”

“Shh.” His finger pressed lightly to his mask, signaling secrecy. “Don’t look so shocked. People will notice.”

Hana stepped back, flustered. “Why didn’t you why didn’t you say anything last night?”

Jimin tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Would you have believed me?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Probably not.

Jimin leaned a little closer, his voice playful yet gentle. “I liked that you didn’t recognize me. It felt…refreshing.”

Hana’s heart pounded uncontrollably. Was this real life? Or had she fallen asleep at her desk and was dreaming all this?

Before she could respond, one of the senior managers called her name, and she reluctantly pulled away. Jimin, however, watched her leave with a small, almost satisfied smile.

That Night

Lying in her bed, Hana replayed the entire day. She had actually spoken to Jimin. Not as a fan. Not as someone screaming from the audience. But face-to-face, like two normal people.

Her cheeks burned as she buried her face in her pillow.

“This is crazy,” she muttered. “Absolutely crazy.”

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, her heart whispered something different.

This was fate

Hana had barely gotten any sleep the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of Jimin’s voice whispering “Miss suspicious, we meet again” replayed like an endless loop in her head. Her heart refused to calm down. She had convinced herself it was all a dream, but the faint warmth on her wrist where he had held her proved otherwise.

By morning, she was a mess dark circles under her eyes, her hair refusing to cooperate, and her chest buzzing with restless energy. She wasn’t prepared for another encounter. Surely, today she’d be tucked away in some office corner, managing schedules and sending emails. Surely, she wouldn’t have to see him again so soon.

But fate, as always, had other plans.

The BTS team meeting was scheduled at 10 AM sharp. Hana arrived early, clutching her files to her chest like a shield. The conference room was already buzzing with staff, stylists, and managers. She busied herself setting up, trying not to think about the fact that somewhere in this very building, Park Jimin was walking, breathing, existing.

At exactly ten, the door opened. Hana didn’t even look up. She kept her eyes fixed on the documents, pretending to be invisible. But the sudden shift in the atmosphere told her everything she needed to know: they had arrived.

The seven members walked in casually, their presence instantly commanding attention. Hana’s eyes betrayed her and flicked up just for a second and landed directly on him.

Jimin.

He wore a loose white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a silver chain glinting at his collarbone. His mask was tucked under his chin, revealing the soft curve of his lips. His eyes scanned the room lazily until they stopped right on her.

Hana’s breath caught.

And then he smirked.

Not just any smirk. The kind that was playful, deliberate, and entirely too dangerous.

She quickly looked away, heat crawling up her neck. She forced herself to focus on the documents, silently chanting, work, work, work not him.

The meeting began, with managers and staff discussing schedules, travel plans, and upcoming promotions. Hana jotted down notes mechanically, but her mind was barely processing the words. She could feel his gaze, like a gentle weight pressing against her skin.

When the meeting finally ended, Hana let out a small sigh of relief. She gathered her things quickly, determined to make a clean escape before anything could happen. But as she turned toward the door, she heard it

“Miss suspicious.”

Her entire body froze. Slowly, she turned, and there he was, leaning casually against the wall, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Jimin.

Her worst nightmare. Her secret dream. All rolled into one.

“Y-you ” she stammered, gripping the folder tightly.

He raised a finger to his lips again. “Shh. Remember? Our little secret.”

Hana’s throat went dry. She swallowed hard, trying to muster professionalism. “Mr. Park, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to ”

“Mr. Park?” he interrupted, his smile widening. “That’s what you’re going with? Cold and formal? After you called me a burglar?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “I didn’t well I didn’t know it was you!”

“And that’s what made it fun.” His voice dropped lower, playful yet oddly sincere. “You weren’t looking at me like the world does. Just… like a guy on the street. I liked that.”

Hana’s heart hammered in her chest. Why is he saying things like this? Why is he looking at me like that?

“I’m just doing my job,” she muttered, clutching the folder tighter. “Please don’t don’t tease me.”

“Tease you?” He tilted his head, stepping a little closer. “But you make it so easy, Miss suspicious.”

Her eyes darted around the hallway, praying nobody noticed the way her face burned. “If anyone sees ”

“They’ll think I’m just being friendly.” He leaned in just slightly, his voice warm and low. “Unless you want them to think something else?”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “I what no!”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying her flustered state. “Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Hana could barely breathe. She wanted to run, but her feet were glued to the floor. His presence was overwhelming, intoxicating even.

Finally, she managed to whisper, “Why are you doing this?”

Jimin’s gaze softened, though the teasing glint never left his eyes. “Because you’re interesting. And it’s been a while since something or someone felt that way.”

Before she could respond, a staff member called out his name, and just like that, the spell broke. He winked at her, then walked away as if nothing had happened.

Hana stood frozen, her heart pounding, her thoughts a complete mess.

Later that day

Hana buried herself in work, desperate to shake off the encounter. She focused on travel itineraries, hotel bookings, performance schedules anything to ground herself. But no matter how much she tried, her mind betrayed her, replaying his words.

“You’re interesting.”

She shook her head violently, slapping her cheeks. “Focus, Hana! He’s your client. Your idol. Untouchable. End of story.”

But the universe wasn’t done torturing her.

During a break, she headed to the vending machine down the hall. As she waited for her coffee to dispense, someone appeared beside her.

“Do you always scold yourself out loud?”

She nearly dropped the cup. “Oh my god!” She spun around and of course, it was him. Jimin stood there, grinning like he had just caught her committing a crime.

Her face turned crimson. “W-why are you here? Don’t you have… idol things to do?”

“I wanted coffee.” He shrugged, pressing a button on the machine. Then he glanced sideways at her, his lips twitching. “And maybe I was curious if you’d run into me again.”

Hana groaned, covering her face with her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

He chuckled, leaning closer. “For me, it’s pretty fun.”

“Why are you like this?” she muttered through her fingers.

“Like what?”

“Teasing me all the time.”

“Because you react.” His tone was playful but gentle. “You’re not pretending. Most people I meet… they wear masks. Not the kind on your face. The kind that hides who they really are. But you you’re honest. It’s refreshing.”

Her heart thumped painfully. She didn’t know how to respond.

Then, as if deciding she’d suffered enough, he changed the subject. “So, Miss suspicious, are you always this nervous around people, or is it just me?”

Her hands dropped from her face, eyes widening. “I’m not nervous!”

He smirked knowingly. “Sure you’re not.”

The machine beeped, and he grabbed his coffee. He handed it to her instead. “Here. Yours looks like it’s about to spill anyway.”

She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Uh… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned in just slightly, his voice dipping again. “But next time, you owe me one.”

Before she could protest, he walked away, leaving her clutching the coffee like it was some kind of forbidden treasure.

That evening

By the time Hana returned home, she was completely drained. She collapsed onto her bed, hugging her pillow tightly.

What is happening? she thought miserably. First he calls me suspicious. Then he teases me. Then he smiles at me like that. What am I supposed to do?

Her phone buzzed with messages from her friends, gossiping about BTS being in town. She bit her lip, tempted to spill the truth. But she couldn’t. Nobody would believe her anyway.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

“Park Jimin,” she whispered. “Why does it feel like you’re pulling me into something I can’t escape?”

Her heart answered before her mind could.

Because it was fate.

Hana lay sprawled across her bed, still in her work clothes, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Her brain was fried. Absolutely fried.

All day long, she had been haunted by that infuriating smirk, those glinting eyes, the way he leaned just a little too close, as if testing how far he could push her before she completely lost control.

She buried her face in her pillow and groaned loudly. “Why me?”

It was ridiculous. Out of all the staff, all the people in the company, why did she have to be the one he seemed to enjoy tormenting?

And worse why did a tiny, secret part of her… like it?

She shot upright, clutching her pillow to her chest. “No. Nope. Absolutely not. I refuse. This is just stress. Work stress. Nothing else.”

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. She grabbed it quickly, half-expecting another reminder from her supervisor. But instead, her screen lit up with an unknown number.

Her stomach dropped.

Unknown: Don’t tell me you’re scolding yourself again.

Hana nearly dropped the phone.

No. No way. It couldn’t be.

Her thumbs hovered shakily over the screen.

Hana: Who is this?

A moment later, another message popped up.

Unknown: Miss suspicious, you wound me.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Jimin. It had to be him.

But… how? How on earth did he even get her number?

Hana: …How did you get my contact?!

Unknown: I have my ways. 😏

She glared at the screen, her pulse racing.

Hana: That’s creepy.

Unknown: Or charming. Depends how you look at it.

She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. He was texting her now? Wasn’t it enough that he turned her workday upside down? Now he had to invade her peace at home too?

Hana: What do you want?

There was a longer pause this time. For a moment, she thought maybe he’d given up. Maybe he was just playing around and got bored.

Then her phone buzzed again.

Unknown: Just wanted to know if you were thinking about me.

Her breath caught.

Heat spread across her cheeks as she scrambled for a response. What was she supposed to say to that?

Hana: You’re unbelievable.

Unknown: You didn’t say no. 😉

She nearly screamed into her pillow.

Why was he like this? Why did every word he said make her feel like she was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something thrilling, something she had no idea how to handle?

Before she could type back, another message appeared.

Unknown: Get some rest, Hana. Tomorrow’s going to be even busier.

She blinked, stunned.

Somehow, that felt… almost gentle. Like beneath all the teasing and mischief, there was another layer to him.

Her fingers trembled as she typed her reply.

Hana: Goodnight.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Appeared again, then vanished. As if he was typing… and then thinking better of it.

Finally, one last message came through.

Unknown: Goodnight, Miss suspicious. Sweet dreams.

Her heart flipped.

She set the phone down slowly, staring at it as though it might explode.

How was she supposed to sleep after that?

Hana tossed and turned for hours, Jimin’s words echoing in her head. It wasn’t just the teasing. It wasn’t just the banter. It was the fact that he noticed her. Out of all the people he could have talked to, teased, or texted… he chose her.

And that was terrifying.

Because Hana knew herself. She knew the way she had admired him for years, the way his music had been a lifeline. And now, here he was real, tangible, dangerously close.

If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall.

And falling for someone like him? A world-famous idol, untouchable, adored by millions? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

She hugged her pillow tight, closing her eyes as her chest ached with confusion.

But even as exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep, one truth remained undeniable.

She was already falling.