Yesung stepped into the dimly lit recording studio, the weight of uncertainty clinging to him like a shadow. Kyung Mi, his closest friend and confidante, had vanished from his life for an entire month. The cafe where they used to share secrets and laughter now felt empty, guarded by Hana’s frosty silence. She refused to reveal Kyung Mi’s whereabouts, leaving Yesung adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

MOBIT, the project they had dreamed of together, hung in the balance. Leeteuk’s sudden delivery of the completed business plan added urgency to Yesung’s search. But where was Kyung Mi? Had he neglected her too much lately, consumed by his newfound happiness with Min Jee?

The producer interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. “Yesung-ssi,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. “Hye Jin-ssi will record later today. Let’s review your parts first.”

“Yes, of course.” Yesung followed her into the recording booth, where the music and lyric sheets awaited. As he donned the headphones, the world narrowed to a single melody—a haunting refrain that tugged at his heart.

And then it began—the guide track, Kyung Mi’s voice weaving through the air like a forgotten promise. He didn’t need to read the lyrics; they etched themselves into his soul. Each note carried her longing, her hidden truths:

“Do you know? Even in my dream, I don’t have the chance to tell you…”

Yesung’s breath caught. The song was hers—the same one she had hummed that night, delivering his drink to the dorm. KLJ, her pseudonym, adorned the sheets as a composer and lyricist. But why? Why had she poured her heart into this melody?

“That you cannot even predict… That during sleepless nights, I am in your thoughts…”

Kyung Mi’s voice held a vulnerability he hadn’t noticed before. She was the silent companion, the nameless friend who stood by him. And now, her confession echoed through the studio:

“I’m not courageous enough to get close to you. I can just wait…”

Yesung’s mind raced. Was this her plea? Her unspoken love? The ache in her words mirrored his own—fear, longing, regret. He closed his eyes, drowning in the emotions she poured into every syllable.

“If you feel lonely, just turn around and look back. If you are sad, I only recognize you, I only see you…”

The truth hung heavy in the air. Yesung’s heart split in two. Min Jee was his present, but Kyung Mi—the one who had always been there—was his past, his melody.

“The time we avoided each other is gradually passing day by day. The love we could not speak about—it’s time to confess…”

Yesung’s decision crystallized. He would find Kyung Mi, unravel the mystery behind her song, and face the truth. Even if it meant hurtful answers, he wouldn’t regret it. For love, once buried, demanded resurrection.

“Because that fool is me…”

And so, Yesung vowed to turn around, to seek the fool who had stood by him. Perhaps Kyung Mi loved him, perhaps she didn’t. But he would no longer drift away. The studio walls absorbed his whispered promise—the echoes of a melody that held both salvation and heartache.