Chapter-2:Her Melody

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.