Chapter-4:The Search Begins

— Jungkook’s Point of View —

The melody haunted him.

It wasn’t just stuck in his head like most catchy choruses — it lived there, like a memory he didn’t know he’d made. It followed him through vocal rehearsals, through lunch with Taehyung, through the long car ride back to the dorm. Even when the world around him was noisy, her music played in the silence between sounds.

The girl in the studio.

The song.

The feeling.

Jungkook lay on his bed, arms folded under his head, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers. But all it reflected back was the echo of piano keys and her startled eyes when she’d seen him.

She’d been so guarded.

No name. No small talk. Just music—and a kind of vulnerability he couldn’t forget.

He turned his head toward his bedside table where his phone sat, screen dim. With a sigh, he picked it up and pulled open his saved files.

“Shadowed Light”

Lyricist: GhostVerse

The name still gave him chills. Whoever GhostVerse was, they had a gift. A painful, beautiful, soul-cutting gift. Every word from that song felt like it had been written just for him, from somewhere inside him that he hadn’t even unlocked yet.

And now, for the first time, there was a face—maybe—behind the voice that had been guiding his for months.

That girl.

He didn’t even know her name.

But he wanted to.

He wanted to thank her, first and foremost. And maybe... understand her. Because people who wrote like that didn’t just write. They bled onto the page. They carried heartbreak, longing, questions that never got answered.

Just like him.

He got up, unable to stay still any longer. He grabbed a hoodie, threw on a cap, and slid his mask on out of habit. He texted his manager something vague — "Going for a walk, be back in a bit." — and slipped out.

His feet knew where to go before his mind did.

Back to the studio.

The one in the basement of that quiet building near the Han River, the one few idols ever used anymore. It was tucked away behind a side café, and mostly rented out for independent trainees or songwriters. No cameras. No staff. Just space and silence.

When he reached the door, he hesitated.

What if she wasn’t here?

What if he was chasing a ghost?

He gently turned the knob. It was locked.

Of course.

But something made him press his ear to the door. No sound. No light spilling out from underneath.

Still, he waited.

Ten minutes. Twenty.

Maybe he just wanted to be near the place where the music had lived. The room where something had awakened in him that day. The ache to find someone—not just as a fan, or an idol—but as a human being.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Light ones. Like someone used to walking without being noticed.

He stepped back just as she rounded the corner.

Her eyes widened when she saw him.

She was wearing the same hoodie, the same worn sneakers, her face mostly hidden beneath her cap. But it was her. He was sure now. Even beneath the shadows, he could recognize her presence.

"You’re here again," she said softly.

It wasn’t a question.

"You too," he replied, his voice equally quiet.

A pause stretched between them, awkward and electric. The hallway was dim, lit only by the emergency exit light, and it felt like they were standing in a pocket of the world that didn’t belong to anyone else.

"I wanted to… hear more," he said honestly. "What you played the other night. I haven’t been able to forget it."

She looked away. "I didn’t mean for anyone to hear it."

"It’s yours, isn’t it?"

She didn’t answer.

"I’ve been wondering something," Jungkook continued, eyes searching her hidden face. "Do you know GhostVerse?"

She froze.

A beat. Then two. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

"Why are you asking?"

He hesitated. "Because… I think I met GhostVerse the other night. And I think it might be you."

The silence after his words was deafening.

Y/N’s heart was racing. She could feel it in her throat, her ears, her fingertips. She’d been so careful. Always. But now he was standing here, piecing things together with just a few words and a melody.

She was supposed to say no. Deny it. Walk away.

But she couldn’t lie.

Not to him.

"Even if I were," she said quietly, "you wouldn’t be allowed to know."

Jungkook’s breath caught.

So she was.

"You wrote Shadowed Light," he said softly, like he was saying a secret aloud for the first time.

She closed her eyes.

"I signed a contract," she whispered. "I’m not allowed to reveal my name. My identity. If this gets out… I lose everything. Even my words."

Jungkook stared at her.

She wasn’t just a good writer. She was brilliant. And she’d been forced into silence by rules that didn’t understand the value of a name attached to a song. She had given the world her voice—without ever being heard herself.

"That’s not fair," he said, his tone low.

She smiled, just a little. "It’s the only way I get to create. As long as no one knows who I am, I’m free."

"But that’s not freedom."

"It’s enough," she whispered. "It has to be."

Jungkook stepped closer, but not too close. He didn’t want to scare her. His voice dropped even softer.

"Then let me hear it. Just me. No cameras. No names. No credit. Just the music. Please."

Y/N looked up, surprised.

"I can’t promise anything," she murmured. "But maybe… just one song."

He smiled, gentle and wide.

And in that moment, under the glow of a flickering hallway light, something bloomed between them — fragile and uncertain, like the start of a song still waiting for its first lyric.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***