Although Leo had already gathered some information about Ahn Hae, according to the script, he still had to ask questions to create a natural atmosphere.
"How long have you been working here, Ahn Hae?" Leo asked as he carried a box of instant noodles toward the shelves, following her guidance.
"It's been two years now."
Ahn Hae couldn't bear to let him stack the entire box by himself, so she followed closely behind to help. By now, she had calmed down somewhat and accepted that everything happening to her was real. Being quite an outgoing person, Ahn Hae quickly regained her natural composure—except that standing in front of the camera still made her heart race a little.
"You're not Korean, are you?"
"No, my hometown is Vietnam. I immigrated here more than seven years ago."
"Ah, Vietnam!" Leo nodded. "I've visited before. It's a beautiful country."
It wasn't clear whether Leo's compliment was sincere or just a polite remark, but it was enough to make Ahn Hae's heart swell with joy.
"I know!" She beamed. "Your group held a concert in Ho Chi Minh City."
"No, even before my debut."
Leo smiled, his eyes shimmering with a rare brightness.
"I traveled to Hoi An with my family, and those were some of the few precious memories I had with them. That's why, to me, Hoi An in particular—and Vietnam in general—feels like a dreamlike place."
As he spoke, his voice gradually lowered, and the light in his eyes dimmed just as quickly as it had appeared. Ahn Hae knew that Leo's family had fallen apart, which was why he chose to leave home and chase his dreams in a foreign land.
She pressed her lips together and then softly said,
"I've never been to Hoi An, but I know it's one of the most beautiful places in my country."
Ahn Hae couldn't hide the pride in her voice when speaking about her homeland, though beneath her smile, an unshakable longing lingered.
Leo easily noticed this and gently asked,
"How long has it been since you last visited home?"
A shadow of sorrow fell over Ahn Hae's weary eyes, sinking deep into their depths.
"The last time was three years ago."
Her family had fallen into debt due to business failures. As the eldest child, Ahn Hae couldn't bear to watch her parents struggle to escape their creditors while her younger siblings were still in school. So, she begged her family to let her move to South Korea with the dream of changing their fate. Though her parents were reluctant, they had no choice but to scrape together what little they had to arrange for her immigration. Thus, the young girl, still naive and inexperienced, was cast into a foreign land—alone, lost, and consumed by fear, with no one to confide in.
The early days in Korea were fraught with hardships. Every night, Ahn Hae curled up and cried herself to sleep, only to force herself up again at dawn to face another preordained day. There were times when her body gave in, landing her in the hospital for days. With no family or friends by her side, she had moments of wanting to give up entirely. She was exhausted from struggling through this dreary existence.
Then, Secret M became her source of strength, giving her a completely new perspective and instilling in her the courage to face life's challenges. If she gave up, both she and her family would fall into despair.
And so, she kept going, tirelessly working for over seven years. Though her family's debts were now paid, new burdens had arisen—her aging parents and her younger siblings who were about to enter university. Rest was a luxury she couldn't afford. She had to keep pushing forward, sacrificing herself to provide for her loved ones. No matter how drained she felt, Ahn Hae refused to collapse, because she knew an entire family rested on her shoulders.
Leo listened intently, feeling both sympathy for the young girl who had struggled so much and admiration for her unwavering determination. Although Ahn Hae credited his band's music for giving her strength, Leo didn't see it that way. Their songs might have been a catalyst, but if she hadn't already possessed resilience deep within, no amount of music would have made a difference.
For some reason, listening to Ahn Hae's story made Leo see a reflection of his sixteen-year-old self—recklessly leaving home, stepping into the unknown, all in pursuit of a dream.
A dream. A word as light as a feather yet heavier than a hundred tons.
A burden so weighty, yet everyone yearns to carry it at least once in their life.
"It seems the show has chosen the right person."
Leo smiled, and this time, it wasn't the polished, rehearsed smile of an idol—it was a sincere smile, one that reached Ahn Hae's heart. He reached out, gently ruffling her messy hair as if comforting a child.
"You've worked so hard, Ahn Hae. You've done so well."
His words and actions felt like the final drop overflowing a brimming glass, threatening to shatter it completely. Ahn Hae quickly lowered her head, forcing back the tears that threatened to escape. She knew she couldn't cry, especially not in front of Leo. She didn't want to show her weakness to the very person who had given her the strength to endure.
Leo was perceptive—there was no way he hadn't noticed the slight trembling of her frail shoulders. Understanding her desire to hide her emotions, he subtly stepped in front of her, shielding her from the camera's gaze.
"So, as a reward for your admirable perseverance, I'll treat you to a meal. What do you want to eat?"
Ahn Hae wasn't a child who cried at the drop of a hat. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and when she lifted her head, her usual cheerful smile had returned.
"Since you've been to Vietnam, you must have tried pho, right?"
Leo's eyes immediately lit up in excitement. "Of course! I love pho!"
"I know a place nearby that serves amazing pho!"
Ahn Hae placed the last pack of noodles on the shelf, flashing a victorious smile at Leo, eagerly awaiting his approval.
"Alright!" Naturally, he couldn't refuse.
Yet, for some reason, watching Ahn Hae's composed demeanor made an unsettling feeling creep into Leo's heart.
To control one's emotions so effortlessly—she must have endured more than words could ever express.
Leo had been the same once, so he understood it all too well.
* * *