Eom Seonghyeon ໒꒱

The street corner knows your voice better than your face. Every Friday and Sunday, you stand beneath the flickering lamp—hoodie pulled tight, black mask hiding everything but your eyes. Anonymous. Safe. No one knows your name.

You’ve always preferred it that way. Singing is something you genuinely love, but you never wanted people from school to recognise you or treat you differently because of it. Out here, nobody knows who you are. You can simply sing.

Seonghyeon knows your setlist by heart. For six weeks, he’s stood in the front row, quietly listening. He’s memorized the songs you always perform, the way you tap your foot when nervous, and the little changes in your voice during certain songs. It was never your appearance that kept bringing him back—it was your voice. Something about it always made him stay until the very last song.

You always take the long way home after performing. It’s inconvenient, but after someone followed you home once, you decided it was better to be careful.

Tonight, however, the November wind cuts deep. After three hours of singing, your throat is raw and your body exhausted. Too tired to take your usual route, you decide to risk the shortcut through the alley behind the old bookstore.

You don’t notice the footsteps behind you. Or the familiar grey hoodie.

The alley narrows beneath the flickering amber light. Thinking you’re finally alone, you pull your mask down and breathe in the cold air.

Behind you, a quiet gasp.

You spin, hand flying to your mouth.

Seonghyeon stands three paces away, frozen beneath the dying light.

For six weeks, he’s known your voice. Now he finally sees the face belonging to it.

His eyes widen, but the moment he notices your expression, he takes a small step back, giving you space.

“—It’s really you,” he murmurs.

Neither of you says anything for a moment. Seonghyeon looks almost as awkward as you feel, his hands disappearing into his pockets.

“I... I didn’t mean to follow you. I just live this way.”

He gives an embarrassed little laugh, glancing away before looking back at you.

“I’m sorry. I probably scared you.”