The fervor surrounding our relationship continues to swirl like a storm, but I need to focus. The only place where I can truly clear my mind is the studio. I head over to Seraphim Records, my sanctuary amidst the chaos. The familiar scent of soundproof foam and coffee greets me as I step inside.
Hyunwoo and Donghyun are already there, seated at the mixing console, their eyes lighting up when they see me.
"Iseul! How's it going?" Hyunwoo's voice is warm, his smile genuine.
"Hey," I reply, trying to shake off the remnants of public scrutiny that cling to me like a second skin. "Ready to get back to work."
Donghyun nods approvingly. "That's the spirit."
I settle into my usual spot, adjusting my headphones and glancing at the sheet music spread out in front of us. We dive into the track, discussing beats and lyrics with the kind of intensity that makes hours feel like minutes.
After what feels like only moments but is actually hours of tweaking and perfecting, Hyunwoo leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know, Iseul," he begins thoughtfully, "we've been following everything that's been going on with you."
I stiffen slightly, bracing myself for judgment.
"But," Donghyun jumps in, "we don't think badly of you at all. In fact, we admire your resilience."
I blink in surprise. "Really?"
"Absolutely," Hyunwoo says firmly. "You're a talented musician and an incredible artist. That's what matters most to us."
A wave of relief washes over me. Their support means more than they can imagine. "Thanks, guys," I say softly.
Donghyun stands up and walks over to a small table in the corner of the room, picking up a folder. He hands it to me with a serious expression. "We wanted to talk to you about something important."
Curiosity piqued, I open the folder and skim through its contents. It's a contract.
"We want to sign on as your full-time producers," Hyunwoo explains, watching my reaction closely.
My heart skips a beat as I process his words. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Donghyun replies with a nod. "We believe in your vision and your music. We want to be part of it permanently."
"And," Hyunwoo adds with a grin, "we'll be credited under pen names to keep things smooth."
I look between them, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and validation. "I don't know what to say … except thank you."
Hyunwoo and Donghyun exchange a glance before Hyunwoo continues. "We've been thinking about this for a while. The agencies we're with, they're … limiting. We want more creative freedom, and your company seems like the perfect place to get that fresh start."
Donghyun nods in agreement. "We've seen what you've built here, Iseul. It's inspiring. And we want to be part of something that actually values artistic integrity."
Their words hit me like a wave of warmth. For so long, I've fought to create a space where artists can truly express themselves without being boxed in by industry norms. Hearing them say this feels like validation of all my efforts.
"Wow," I breathe out, trying to keep my emotions in check. "I'd be honored to have you both on board."
Hyunwoo grins widely. "Looks like we're going to make some incredible music together."
We shake hands, sealing the deal with a sense of camaraderie that fills the room with newfound energy. For the first time in days, I feel a spark of hope ignite within me.
As I leave Seraphim Records, the evening air feels a little lighter. But reality crashes back down when I check my phone and see the latest headlines. A petition has been circulating online, asking the president of Korea to ban polyamorous relationships.
I can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Seriously? People care this much about who I choose to love? It's both amusing and dismaying.
Scrolling through the comments, I see a mix of support and vitriol. Some people champion our right to love freely, while others spew hate and demand action against us. It's exhausting, yet expected.
Back at my apartment in Cheongdam-Dong, Meatball greets me with his usual enthusiasm, his body wiggling furiously.
"Hey there, buddy," I say, scooping him up into my arms. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had."
I flop onto the couch, Meatball snuggling close as I continue scrolling through social media. The petition is gaining traction, but so is a counter-petition supporting our right to love who we want without interference.
The sheer volume of opinions is overwhelming. It's like everyone thinks they have a say in our personal lives just because we're public figures.
A message notification pops up from Seonho. "You okay?"
I type back quickly. "Yeah, just dealing with the usual madness."
Seonho replies almost instantly. "Want some company?"
A smile tugs at my lips as I type back, "Sure."
Not long after, there's a knock at my door. When I open it, Seonho stands there with that mischievous smile that always lifts my spirits.
"Thought you could use some distraction," he says, holding up a bag of takeout from our favorite place.
"You know me too well," I reply, stepping aside to let him in.
We settle on the couch with Meatball nestled between us and dive into the food. Seonho keeps the conversation light, regaling me with stories from his latest shoot and making me laugh until my sides hurt.
For a moment, it feels like everything is normal—like we're just two people enjoying each other's company without the weight of public scrutiny bearing down on us.
As we finish eating, Seonho turns serious for a moment. "You know," he begins cautiously, "no matter what happens with these petitions or what people say … we've got each other's backs."
I nod slowly, feeling a swell of gratitude for this man who has become such an integral part of my life. "Thanks," I whisper.
Seonho leans in closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "We're in this together," he says softly.
Before I can respond, another knock sounds at the door—this time it's Jaewook.
"Hope there's room for one more," he says with that easygoing smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
Seonho scoots over to make space on the couch as Jaewook joins us, and suddenly it feels like everything might just be okay after all.
The three of us spend the rest of the evening talking about anything and everything—music, dreams for the future, even silly things like what Meatball might be thinking as he snoozes contentedly beside us.
For now at least, we find solace in each other's presence—a reminder that despite all the noise outside these walls, what truly matters is right here in this room.