Kel Young Wrld

**I'm in Love with the Sun: Lost but Found in Seoul**
*A Romance of Art, Fame, and Unbreakable Love*

When Dora, a fierce and rising Afro-European visual artist, escapes to Seoul to heal her past and rediscover her passion, the last thing she expects is to collide—quite literally—with Soo Yeon, the dazzlingly private leader of Korea’s top K-pop group, *The Kings*. One who's running from the spotlight. The other is trapped inside it.

What begins as a muse-and-artist connection soon spirals into something deeper, something forbidden. In a world where idols don’t get to choose love, and where cultural boundaries run deep, Dora and Soo Yeon find themselves caught between desire and duty, passion and pressure.

As whispers turn into headlines, and their quiet love becomes a global scandal, the couple must fight for their place in a world that demands their silence.

From secret rendezvous to explosive public reckonings, *I’m in Love with the Sun: Lost but Found in Seoul* is a sweeping, cross-cultural love story that pulses with art, music, heartbreak, and healing. A luminous tale about finding yourself—and the kind of love worth losing everything for.

I'm In Love With The Sun: Lost But Found In Seoul

Soo Yeon’s POV – The Night at Her Place 


I followed her home because I couldn’t bear the thought of the night ending—not like that. But if it had to end, I wanted it to end with her. In her world. In her arms. 


I would never forget how she looked—framed by the city skyline, her silhouette moving slowly toward me as I stood at the window, the wind licking at my skin through the cracked panes. 


The city lights poured around her like a halo. Her oversized sweater slipped off one bare shoulder, revealing skin that made my breath catch. Her braids draped like silk down her collarbone, her eyes soft but searching—like she hadn’t fully exhaled in days. 


“I want you,” she said, her voice a breathless vow as her hands came to rest lightly on my shoulders. 


My heart stuttered. Was I hearing her right? Or was this a dream twisted from longing? 


The silence between us wasn’t empty—it throbbed, hot and electric. 


Where the Night Knows Our Names