Autumn in South Korea carried the scent of dry grass drifting through the crisp air. For a tourist, this would be the perfect weather for a stroll through the city. But for someone merely trying to get by in a foreign land, that same cool autumn breeze could feel lonelier than ever.
Ahn Hae could no longer remember what autumn in Vietnam was like, but she was certain—it had to be much warmer than this.
Huddled in her long wool coat, she hurried through the bustling streets to get to her second part-time job of the day. By day, she worked at a nail salon. By night, she took shifts at a convenience store to make ends meet. Occasionally, she picked up additional temp jobs whenever she could.
Her next shift was at the convenience store, from 7 PM to midnight. As soon as she arrived, Minh's face lit up with relief.
"Thank God you're here!"
"What's wrong?"
She was a little taken aback. The boy, three years younger than her, had never once looked this pitiful. Usually, he was too busy teasing her. Still, Ahn Hae knew Minh meant no harm. Being from the same hometown in a foreign country, they had naturally grown close.
"I had to cover for Ha Young today. Been here since the first shift—I'm dead tired."
As he spoke, Minh was already untying his apron. Before Ahn Hae could say anything, he rattled on:
"I've closed out the register, taken out the trash—everything's done. If anything comes up, just text me. I gotta run."
"What's the rush?" she asked, amused by his urgency.
Grinning, Minh replied, "I've got a date," and with that, he dashed out the door, disappearing into the crowd.
Ahn Hae sighed in resignation and stepped behind the counter. The first thing she did was queue up a playlist of Secret M's songs before getting started on her usual tasks. Soon, the lively melodies filled the small store.
Secret M—short for Secret Melody—was a three-member boy band currently dominating both the South Korean and international music scenes. Despite having only three members, they excelled in every aspect. Their music had a way of healing people, helping many through their darkest times—including Ahn Hae.
Seven years ago, when she was still struggling to find her footing in this foreign land, drowning in loneliness and uncertainty, she had found them.
Amid the chaos of the bustling city, the soft notes of a piano had felt like a gentle whisper of comfort, knocking on the walls of her weary heart. The slightly trembling voices, full of dreams and passion, intertwined with the music, creating a tender yet profound melody.
Back then, Ahn Hae had stood frozen at the edge of a small crowd, watching the three young men perform with everything they had. Even though there were barely a hundred people gathered around them, the fire in their eyes burned brightly. Each played a different instrument—drums, keyboard, guitar. Despite the scorching summer heat, they sang with unwavering energy, as if their entire world depended on it.
Even as sweat drenched their white shirts and their hair stuck to their temples, they never faltered. To them, the handful of fans holding up their banners were everything. And so, they sang as if their lives depended on it, offering their music as a promise.
And he had been there—his fingers dancing over the keys of an old keyboard, weaving soft, mesmerizing notes. The harsh summer sun seemed to pale in comparison to the radiance of his smile, framed by deep dimples that reminded Ahn Hae of twin little suns, chasing away the darkness in her heart.
"The lonely whale in the vast ocean sings, but no one hears its voice.
Yet, why do I feel so lucky? Because when I cry, no one sees me either.
And still, the solitary whale keeps singing—until one day, its unanswered melody reaches tomorrow."
The lyrics had struck her like a lifeline, pouring warmth into the barren corners of her soul. At that moment, Ahn Hae had felt as if she were being saved.
That was the day she became a fan of Secret M—a Secret Chord.
They had pulled her back from the edge of despair at nineteen, and for the past seven years, they had been her anchor, helping her survive in this cold, unfamiliar land.
Seven years—neither long nor short. But to Ahn Hae, it felt like half a lifetime. She had laughed with them, cried with them, and found strength in their music. To her, Secret M was more than just an idol group. They were friends, confidants, a sacred part of her youth.
Lost in nostalgia, Ahn Hae barely noticed the hours slipping by. By the time she took a break, it was already past eleven. With fewer customers trickling in, she began preparing to close up.
Switching the playlist to Leo's solo track Feilleurmort—which meant The Color of Withered Leaves—she felt a quiet peace settle over her. It was her favorite song, soft and soothing, as if Leo himself were whispering, Don't worry, you'll get through this.
Humming along, she slipped on her gloves and started gathering the trash. Convenience store work wasn't too exhausting, but it was full of little tasks that kept her occupied.
Before she knew it, it was nearly closing time.
As she wiped down the counters, the playlist switched to Love Hunter, a high-energy track.
Even at the end of a long day, the song had a way of refueling her energy. Unable to resist, Ahn Hae started dancing along.
Every fangirl had, at some point, learned the choreography to their idol's songs—Ahn Hae was no exception. Luckily, back in high school, she had performed in school dance events, so she wasn't entirely unskilled.
Engrossed in the music, she didn't notice the presence behind her.
As the beat intensified, she threw aside the broom she had been holding, moving seamlessly into the dance break she had spent three months perfecting.
What she didn't realize was that someone was watching.
And not just anyone.
A man stood behind her, observing her every movement with quiet admiration.
Behind him, an entire camera crew had entered the store—cameras rolling, microphones ready, all directed at her.
Completely unaware, Ahn Hae continued dancing, pouring her heart into every move. It was as if, through dance, she was shedding all the burdens of the day.
Only when she spun around for the grand finale did she finally notice them.
Shock sent her stumbling. She nearly fell, but managed to steady herself at the last moment.
Before she could even process what was happening, the man began clapping—loud and appreciative.
"You dance beautifully."
Ahn Hae's mind went blank.
And then, she saw his face.
Familiar—too familiar.
So familiar, in fact, that it almost made her legs give out beneath her.
"L… Leo?"
She barely managed to choke out his name, still unable to believe her own eyes.
Leo, the man whose voice had saved her, whose music had been her solace for seven years—was standing right in front of her.
With a warm smile, he greeted her.
"Hello, Ahn Hae."
* * *