The Idol’S Secret

The Eyes That Remember

The meeting room on the seventh floor of LUMINAIRE Entertainment felt far too spacious for Han Nari. The cold air from the AC grazed her skin like needles, yet her palms remained clammy with sweat. Her fingers clutched a sketchbook on her lap, the pen she had been spinning now motionless between her fingers.

“Focus, Nari. This is just work. Nothing more.”

But the tightness in her chest refused to subside.

This wasn’t just another project.

This was the comeback — the most anticipated return of Korea’s top idol group, LUMINA. All eyes in the music industry were locked on this campaign. And if she failed…

“You’ve worked too hard to mess this up now. Don’t let it fall apart.”

“Is the concept ready?” asked a staff member sitting at the end of the table, his tone casual, his smile reassuring.

Nari nodded quickly. “Y-Yes, I’ve prepared everything in the presentation,” she replied, her voice faintly trembling.

She had barely begun to relax when the door creaked open behind her. The room fell into a hush.

Footsteps echoed — slow, composed, and authoritative.

Every person in the room instinctively straightened in their seat.

Seven men walked in, each of them carrying a presence that weighed down the room. The staff who had been murmuring moments ago now bowed with practiced respect.

Among them… was Lee Jihoon.

Leader of LUMINA.

The man who once patted her head and said,

"You’ll be a great designer one day, Nari."

The man who disappeared without a word, leaving a hollow space in her chest that never quite closed.

Jihoon walked at the front. His jet-black hair was slicked back neatly, and his features looked colder, more mature — a far cry from the boy she once knew. The black shirt he wore sharpened the contrast of his chiseled face, making him look even more distant… unreachable.

And then their eyes met.

Just a fraction of a second.

But it was long enough for her world to stop.

Jihoon’s pace faltered ever so slightly. His sharp gaze softened — a flicker of recognition? — before he returned to his professional composure.

“No way… he doesn’t recognize me. It’s been five years.”

Jihoon turned his head, nodding politely to the room. “Thank you for your hard work in preparing our comeback,” he said, his deep voice calm but commanding.

Nari quickly lowered her gaze, praying no one noticed the flush creeping up her cheeks.

“He doesn’t remember. He can’t. Don’t be ridiculous, Nari. He’s long forgotten.”

The meeting began.

Nari stood, presenting her design concept with a shaky voice, trying to keep her breathing even. She didn’t dare glance in his direction, but whenever she did — when her curiosity got the better of her — Jihoon looked entirely focused.

And yet… there were moments.

Moments when his eyes flicked toward her, when their gazes locked — brief but heavy enough to make her heart stumble.

Especially when he frowned slightly. That look — warm, piercing, and familiar.

Or maybe… it was just her imagination.

As the meeting drew to a close, Nari exhaled quietly, her fingers already gathering the pages of her sketchbook.

Then, the deep voice returned, cutting through the murmur of voices.

“This concept…” Jihoon said slowly, “…feels familiar.”

His baritone wasn’t loud, but it carried — silencing the room again.

“Like something from someone I used to know,” he added, his gaze resting briefly — deliberately — on Nari before he turned and walked out.

As he disappeared through the doorway, his cologne lingered in the air — clean, masculine, unmistakably Jihoon.

Nari froze, holding her breath.

The other staff began packing up, relieved and chatting again. Papers rustled, chairs screeched softly against the floor. But in her world, everything felt suspended.