After listening to several songs together, Ji-hoon lost every trace of his initial shyness. Energized by the connection they’d found, he started sharing all his Western music obsessions with infectious enthusiasm.
Sol-woo laughed along, genuinely enjoying himself. Making friends had never come easily to him — back in the States, the academic environment ran on competitiveness, a distance he’d often chalked up to his appearance or the weight of his last name. But now, if he was serious about building something in Korea, he knew he had to learn how to connect with people.
He looked at Ji-hoon with an easy smile and said:
"Want to hear one of my songs? I’d like to know what you think."
His tone was relaxed. Inside, a faint pull of nerves. He was used to uploading his demos anonymously to SoundCloud — but this was the first time he’d shared his music face to face with someone he’d just met.
Ji-hoon blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t have particularly high expectations for a stranger’s compositions, but he nodded out of simple courtesy toward his new hyung.
Sol-woo handed him one of the earbuds. The track began: a melancholic melody carried by the clean strum of an acoustic guitar. Ji-hoon’s eyes lit up immediately — that kind of nostalgic atmosphere was exactly what had pulled him toward Western music in the first place.
Then the song reached its peak. Sol-woo’s voice, low and layered with texture, came through the earbud:
But are we all lost stars trying to light up the dark?
Who are we? Just a speck of dust within the galaxy?
Woe is me... If we’re not careful, turns into a reality.
Don’t you dare let our best memories fade in the rain...
The fragment raised the hair on Ji-hoon’s arms. Absorbed in the melody, headphones still on, he exclaimed — far too loudly, not measuring his own volume:
"Hyung, your song is incredible! Oh my God, your voice — is this on YouTube?"
He leaned toward Sol-woo’s phone screen, pointing at the app icon he didn’t recognize.
"You have to upload this to YouTube! I need to save it so I can keep listening."
A deep warmth spread through Sol-woo’s chest. It was the first time he’d shared something this personal — and receiving a reaction this genuine filled him with a satisfaction he’d never quite felt before. Valued. Like after years of uncertainty, he’d finally found a place where what he actually had meant something.
Around them, several passersby turned at the sound of Ji-hoon’s outburst, watching the scene with barely concealed curiosity — though no one dared approach.
Then, carried away by the moment, Ji-hoon unplugged the earbuds and turned the speaker on full volume. The melody spilled out into the street, reaching everyone walking near the bench.
Some people kept moving — not everyone was drawn to Western music in an era where local pop ruled the streets — but a few stopped almost immediately, caught by the sound.
A girl of about fifteen, walking past with a friend, stepped closer with wide eyes:
"Oppa... did you write that song?"
Sol-woo gave her a calm smile and nodded.
Completely taken by his ease and presence, she rushed to ask:
"Are you a trainee at an agency?"
Sol-woo answered with a touch of humility:
"Not at all. I wish. Actually, this is the first time I’ve shown my music to anyone."
Her friend — considerably more direct — didn’t hesitate:
"Oppa, you have to upload this to YouTube. You’re definitely going viral."
The first girl let out a nervous laugh and nudged her companion with an elbow.
"If you become a trainee, we’ll be your first fans!"
Sol-woo felt a mix of genuine excitement and something close to shyness. He hadn’t been prepared for a reception like this in the middle of a Seoul street.
Before he could respond, a small crowd had finished gathering around him. The combination of a sophisticated melody in English, Sol-woo’s low voice, and his presence was doing the work without any effort on his part.
From the back, a boy raised his voice above the murmur:
"Hyung, upload it now!"
The requests started multiplying at once:
"Yes, yes! Oppa, upload it today!"
A few meters away, his uncle Min-ho watched the scene holding his coffee cup. Seeing his nephew surrounded by a crowd of enthusiastic strangers, he let out a low laugh, full of quiet pride.
I knew it, he thought, taking a sip. This kid was born for this.
Sol-woo, giving in to the group’s insistence, raised both hands in surrender.
"Alright, I’ll upload it right now," he said with an amused smile. "But you all have to promise you’ll like it and subscribe."
The response came back in unison, with laughter:
"Yes, yes! Just don’t forget us when you’re famous!"
Without wasting time, Sol-woo opened the app on his phone and started the upload. He kept the title he’d saved it under: Lost Stars. Around the bench, more than ten people waited in silence, watching their own screens as if witnessing the start of something.
The moment the loading bar hit a hundred percent, the crowd began to drift apart — slowly, eyes still down on their phones, already listening to the track through their own earbuds and leaving their likes.
The fifteen-year-old was the first to leave a comment on the freshly uploaded video:
"We had to force this Oppa into uploading something this good. Give it all the support it deserves... ♡"
Almost immediately, notifications began flashing with new replies from the few who had been there:
"This guy should already be signed to a major agency. What a voice. Can you imagine him as a main vocalist for a trainee group?"
Unaware of the small digital ripple he’d just set off, Sol-woo saved Ji-hoon’s number to his contacts. He was starting to feel bad about keeping his uncle waiting — especially since he didn’t have a Korean driver’s license and had no way to get back on his own.
Ji-hoon understood immediately. They exchanged numbers, promised to stay in touch about music, and said goodbye with a firm handshake.
Watching his nephew walk back toward him, Min-ho didn’t miss the opportunity:
"Well, look who it is — Hongdae’s rising star. How does fame feel on day one in Seoul?"
Sol-woo didn’t quite know how to answer that. He just let out a quiet laugh and shrugged.
They made their way back to the car together, leaving the lit-up noise of Hongdae’s streets behind them, heading home.