JD 24

A musician so famous that anyone would recognize them appeared right from the beginning. Hakyung’s eyes widened at the appearance of a singer he had only ever seen on TV. And with that, a thought quietly took root in his heart: there was no way that Kim Taeyoung would be among such famous singers.

Truthfully, having his boss beside his and holding his hand made his so happy that nothing else seemed to matter. Hakyung, in love, was trying to escape reality.

“Now that you’re here, do you like it?”

“Yes, yes. Everyone sings so well and they’re all really cool.”

“But I think they’re not as good as you, Kang Hakyung…”

At Muheon’s compliment, Hakyung’s ears turned red. He always looked so baffled when he sang, he thought he didn’t like his voice—but maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was just pretending not to like it when he actually did. What a prickly Seoul man, seriously.

The realization that his boss actually acknowledged his singing made the corners of Hakyung’s lips slowly curl upward. He gripped his fingers, still tightly intertwined with hers, even more firmly and said,

“I’ll sing for you a lot more from now on.”

Muheon simply nodded without a word. He liked the sound of from now on. As the two of them sat together enjoying the concert, it happened.

The stage lights shut off all at once, and then the concert hall filled with a thick white mist and bubbles. In an instant, the atmosphere transformed into a dreamlike scene, drawing excited cheers from the audience.

Hakyung’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. The musicians who had performed so far were already among Korea’s top talents, and now a stage with such elaborate production? It might even be a world-famous group about to appear.

As the light returned to the pitch-black stage, the instrumental began. The melody was so familiar.

“Ah…”

A sigh of despair escaped Hakyung’s lips. The suspicion he had tried to dismiss turned into certainty.

With overwhelming production and a clear, resounding voice filling the stage, the audience’s cheers vanished. Everyone held their breath, focused entirely on the person now standing at the center of the stage.

A slim, delicate face, pale skin, eyes glistening as if holding back tears, and a single beauty mark on a rounded nose tip.

He was a man so beautiful that the word pretty naturally came to mind. His pure, clear voice paired perfectly with his looks, giving the illusion that some kind of fairy was singing on stage.

When the short song ended, thunderous applause shook the concert hall. The man on stage smiled confidently, as though such praise was only natural.

“Thank you.”

At his brief words of gratitude, another wave of cheers erupted, and calls for an encore rang out from all directions.

Even the slight frown he made looked charming, almost like a cute act. People were completely captivated by the first note he sang and stomped their feet, desperate to hear him again.

“Alright, I’ll sing just one more song.”

His white, slender fingers moved, and with even that half-hearted gesture, groans of delight echoed across the room. Wearing an expression that seemed to enjoy it all, he sang just one more song—exactly one—and then exited the stage without a hint of hesitation.

Even as the next musician appeared, many people continued to call his name. It was an overwhelming amount of attention and love for someone giving their debut performance.

“Man, hearing Taeyoung’s voice in person is insane.”

“Right? Same here! But how can his singing voice sound so different from how he talks?”

“There are tons of singers like that! You seriously didn’t know? It’s totally normal to sound different when you sing.”

The voices of audience members seated behind them drifted over. They were busy praising how Taeyoung’s husky speaking voice transformed into a clear and pure tone the moment he began singing—a real, born performer.

But what they heard wasn’t Taeyoung’s real voice.

That voice was one of the many things Taeyoung had stolen, using Hakyung’s life as leverage. The moment he heard his own voice flowing from Taeyoung’s lips, it felt like the ground beneath his feet gave way.

As the audience’s chatter continued, Hakyung’s hands trembled from the crushing sense of loss—and betrayal.

When he hesitated to sing for him, Kim Taeyoung had promised he would never go public, only using his voice to increase video views.

And yet here he was, proudly showing his face and trying to launch a singing career for the whole world to see…! Something that should never have happened was happening right in front of his eyes.

Realizing now wasn’t the time to sit there blankly, Hakyung suddenly stood up from his seat and started toward the stage. But his right hand was still tightly held, and so he ended up plopping back down on the sofa.

Right—his boss! Ever since Kim Taeyoung’s performance, he’d been so distracted that he completely forgot about him.

It broke his heart to be the one to let go of the hand that had been so determined not to let go first. But if he hesitated here, who knew when he’d get another chance to confront Kim Taeyoung? He couldn’t let this moment slip away.

“Boss, I’ll be right back—just going to the restroom.”

Hakyung offered the safest excuse he could think of as he tried to peel Muheon’s fingers off one by one. But as soon as he freed one, the others tangled back again; no matter how he tried, their hands just wouldn’t come apart.

After several failed attempts, his breath grew ragged with frustration. He shifted his hips on the soft sofa, emphasizing that he really needed to go, but his boss didn’t budge.

“I—I really have to go!”

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Who goes to the restroom together?!”

“I’m just worried you’ll get lost. Don’t let go of my hand.”

Unlike the frantic Hakyung, Muheon appeared endlessly calm on the surface. But even he sensed something strange.

That man, Taeyoung—the sound of his singing felt oddly familiar. The nasal tone that crept in as the pitch rose, the clarity like raindrops skipping on glass—

Muheon had lived for centuries, and in all that time, he’d only heard one person with a voice like that.

Kang Hakyung.

He was sure the song ringing in his ears belonged to the dolphin clinging to his hand. And yet, there was that man on stage, moving only his lips as if lip-syncing with his voice.

There might be thousands of similar voices in the world, but not like Kang Hakyung’s. Hers was truly unique—unmistakably one-of-a-kind.

That’s why, even as he sang off-key lyrics and stumbled over the melody, he kept wanting to hear more. It was the most inexplicable phenomenon he’d experienced in a while. And of course, Hakyung’s reaction to that man hadn’t been ordinary either.

Normally, he would’ve excitedly grabbed his arm, saying things like, “Boss! Doesn’t that singer sound just like me? But I’m a bit better, right? Right?” and chatted away happily. But this time, he looked like he was being chased—or maybe like he wanted to chase someone—fidgety and restless.

Claiming he just needed the restroom wasn’t fooling anyone. His behavior was suspicious, plain and simple. Which was exactly why Muheon had no intention of letting his go.

After a brief tug-of-war over whether to let go or not, Hakyung finally gave in with a sulky pout. As he walked toward the back of the stage, he muttered complaints under his breath.

“Even if I am your company’s employee, invading my personal privacy like this is totally unacceptable, you know? Do you grab the other guys’ hands and follow them to the restroom too?”

“…What?”

What kind of ridiculous thing was that? Who held anyone’s hand like that? Muheon furrowed his brow as if he’d just heard complete nonsense, but Hakyung’s misunderstanding-fueled complaints kept coming.

“You just can’t do things like that. It’s the perfect way to cause a big misunderstanding!”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

Muheon raised one corner of his mouth in amusement. At that, Hakyung—who’d been rambling nonstop—snapped his mouth shut like a clam. Shaking his head furiously, he kept walking in silence.

Muheon lightly tapped the dolphin’s shoulder and continued to press his for an answer, but Hakyung didn’t speak again for a while.

***

Backstage in a small waiting room. The tiny space buzzed with excited voices.

“Yah, Taeyoung! See? Didn’t I tell you that going on stage would be huge? You’re all over the trending searches and stories right now!”

“Ah, yes.”

“If you were this good, why’d you keep saying you wouldn’t do it? Huh? Gosh, once your shorts go viral, you’ll get ad deals in no time!”

Manager Choi laughed heartily as he patted Kim Taeyoung’s narrow shoulders. He was a manager at a small agency and had spent his career handling average idol groups.

Then came rumors of a powerful Chinese investor putting money into the Korean entertainment industry. By chance, Choi’s company president had connections to that very investor and made a move to secure a deal. Promising to bring in talent was one thing—but the agency lacked anyone with true star power. He’d racked his brain over who to present.

Then he remembered Taeyoung—a YouTube singer-songwriter he’d been watching for the past two years. Though his upload schedule was inconsistent, every time he released a video, it rocketed up the real-time trending charts within an hour.

Someone as famous as Taeyoung was bound to catch the investor’s interest. From that day on, Manager Choi began relentlessly pursuing him.