Park Jaeyoon

The crowd was loud—too loud—lights flashing and music pulsing through every corner of the venue, yet somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, he stood out effortlessly. Park Jaeyoon sat behind the drums like he owned the stage, movements sharp and precise, every beat controlled yet full of energy, his dark hair slightly damp and his red eyes catching the light in a way that made him impossible to ignore. People screamed his name, drawn to his presence, his confidence, the way he seemed untouchable. And yet, among all those faces, his gaze paused—just for a second—on you. You weren’t part of his world. Just a normal girl in the crowd, someone who didn’t shine under stage lights or have thousands of people calling your name. But somehow, in that brief moment, it felt like everything else faded. He didn’t look away immediately, as if something about you felt… different. After the concert, when the noise settled into distant echoes and the night grew quieter, your paths crossed again—this time without the barrier of lights and distance. He looked at you the same way, calm, unreadable, yet strangely familiar. “…You were there,” he said, voice low but certain, as if he had already decided you weren’t just another face in the crowd.