Chapter 1 – The Tap
Chapter 1 – The Tap
Seoul glowed under a blanket of city lights and artificial stars. The streets bustled, alive with late-night chatter, honking horns, and the rhythmic blur of footsteps.
In the midst of it all, he moved like silence itself.
A tall figure in black, hood drawn low, hands buried in his pockets. He walked with no rush, no destination—just motion. His presence bent the air around him. Some people glanced up as he passed. Some slowed. A few outright stared.
**That face.**
Unreal.
Pale skin like marble, sharp lines, and eyes of a golden-brown hue—hazel, deep and quiet.
Not warm. Not kind. Just... **still**.
He didn't look back. Didn't notice the attention. Or maybe he did, and simply didn't care.
---
He stopped by a convenience store. Entered wordlessly.
The harsh light inside made his features look almost inhuman—too perfect to belong to someone shopping for a bottle of water.
The clerk couldn't help but stare. But the boy said nothing. He paid. Took his drink. Left.
---
Outside, the wind had picked up. The streets thinned as he walked toward a quieter district. Neon gave way to shadows, music gave way to silence.
At the next crosswalk, a man appeared beside him. Sharp suit. Confident posture. Mid-thirties. Someone used to getting attention—though tonight, it was he who looked twice.
> "Hey," the man said casually, "you ever thought about becoming an idol?"
No reaction.
The boy didn't flinch, didn't speak, didn't even turn his head.
The light turned green. He walked.
---
But the man followed.
Two blocks. Then three.
> "I'm serious, kid. You've got *that face.* People would kill for it. And your aura—cold, distant... people eat that up."
No answer.
The boy turned into a narrow alley. The man followed still.
> "We're holding auditions this month. It's low pressure. One look from you and they'll beg to sign you."
Silence.
> "You've got the kind of look the world notices, whether you like it or not."
The boy finally stopped.
He turned.
His eyes were sharp, unreadable. Hazel glass.
> "You talk too much."
The man smiled, unfazed. "You'll thank me someday."
A pause. Long.
Then the boy's voice, low and emotionless:
> "Fine. I'll give it a try."
And without another word, he turned the corner and vanished.
---
The scout stood there for a long second, staring after him.
No name. No phone number. No confirmation.
But he knew.
He'd found something.
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