When I returned with my guitar, both a stool and a crowd were waiting for me. I flashed an appreciative smile to my father as I put the guitar strap over me.

“Uh, hey, everybody,” I said aloud, grabbing everyone’s attention. The music was turned off. The only background sounds were the rush of the water in the mini waterfalls and the chirping of the crickets. “This is a little something I’m working on for my next album. I hope you like it.”

I settled onto the stool, adjusted my fingers over the guitar strings, and began strumming and vocalizing. “I’m no Superman, I can’t take your hand,” I started, “and fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah.”

Unlike most of my performances, a hush fell over the crowd. Nobody talked. They just watched me as I sang a song I worked on for the past few months. But I didn’t mind the lack of an energetic response. In fact, I thought the quiet suited this song.

“I can’t read your mind, like a billboard sign.” I smiled at Park Chanwook’s daughters who exchanged excited looks with one another.

“And tell you everything you want to hear, but I’ll be your hero.” For some reason, I thought of Eunsung, a girl I met literally a few hours ago. She was hard to understand, but wasn’t I being her hero by taking her to the hospital to make sure she was okay?

Focus, Baekhyun.

Bored, I peeked outside the door to make sure no one was there. When I saw that the landing was empty, I slid outside of the guest room. I noticed there was another door nearby and pondered if I should risk opening it. Suddenly, I heard the faint sound of a guitar and a soothing voice singing. It had to come from outside, and I had to listen.

I opened the door to find a balcony overlooking Baekhyun’s impressive backyard. Despite what he said about letting no one see me, I stepped onto the balcony, looking for the source of the music. It couldn’t be--

I looked down. There, at the front of a group of people, was Baekhyun on a stool as he played his guitar, singing a song I never heard before. It must be new since I knew every one of his songs, courtesy of my sister.

I hated to admit it, but he was actually a really good singer. And this song, whatever it was called, was a really nice song too. It was refreshing to hear him song without all the backup instruments and autotune.

The longer I listened, the more I liked the song and his voice. Regardless of what I thought of him as a person, I had to give him credit as a singer. He wasn’t untalented or just a pretty face.

A weird feeling twisted in my heart. I frowned a little, wondering what this feeling was and why I was experiencing it. I wiped my face of emotion when he looked up and caught me watching. He had the nerve to even smile at me as he sang, the same charming smile he gave me earlier in the car when I retorted how I could think of better ways to meet him.