The dim studio was quiet, echoing with the soft buzz of the air conditioner and the faint creaks of old floorboards. He sat at the keyboard, flipping on the soft backlight. His fingers hovered above the keys for a moment before pressing down, slowly finding a melody he couldn't name.
The first note was simple. Then a second. Then a third, as though the keys remembered what he didn't.
He didn't know where the music was going. But it felt like something he had to follow. Every chord was a whisper, every measure a question.
The lyric came back to him: "Somewhere between the silence, I heard your name."
He played that part slowly, letting it hang in the air. He wasn't writing a love song. Not exactly. He was writing a feeling.
Back at the ST4R dorm, Yuna stared at the ceiling of her dark room. The paper heart was gone. She had dropped it into his hoodie pocket without thinking. Now she couldn't stop thinking about it.
What if he hadn't found it? What if he did and didn't understand it was from her? What if it meant nothing?
Her phone buzzed. It was a message from the group chat: rehearsal time moved up by an hour. 9:00 a.m. sharp.
The next day, when ST4R arrived at rehearsal, the mood was heavier. The producer had brought in a new director to oversee the joint performance. More cameras. More pressure.
Kai looked tired. His eyes were a little puffy, hair tucked into a cap. Yuna saw him from across the room, his hoodie sleeves pushed up as he adjusted something on his phone.
She tried to act normal. Invisible. Focused.
But halfway through the warm up, she caught him looking at her.
Their eyes met—and in that second, she felt it again. That heartbeat between them. That strange understanding
Later that day, after lunch, she returned to the practice room early. Most of the others were still out grabbing drinks or chatting in the hallway.
Kai was already there, seated at the edge of the raised platform, backpack beside him.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then he held something out to her—a small silver flash drive.
She blinked. "What's this?"
"Something I was working on," he said.
Her fingers hesitated before taking it. "For me?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at her with that unreadable calm.
She nodded, then tucked the flash drive into her jacket pocket without a word.
They stood in silence until the door opened and the others trickled in.
But the silence between them didn't feel empy
That night, she plugged the flash drive into her laptop, breath caught in her throat.
There was one audio file.
She hit play.
Soft piano drifted through her speakers, fragile and deliberate. She closed her eyes as it built into something more steady
And in the middle of the song, a familiar melody wrapped itself around her.
Her lyrics. Her heart. In his music.