LOST ON YOU

The hall shimmered like a living jewel. Every light reflected off glass, silk, and polished floors, turning the entire venue into something unreal expensive, untouchable. Idols filled the room, from boy groups to girl groups, alongside actors, producers, and people whose names carried weight even when unspoken. If someone wasn’t famous, they were powerful. If not powerful, then connected. And everyone looked perfect. Laughter flowed easily. Conversations sparkled. Even the air smelled curated expensive cologne layered over floral notes, sharp and sweet at the same time. Waiters moved seamlessly through the crowd, offering drinks and smiles, making sure no glass stayed empty for long. It was the kind of place people dreamed about being in. And yet I stood alone. A glass of white wine rested untouched in my hand as I leaned against the farthest corner of the hall, watching everything without really seeing it. My bandmates had already disappeared into the crowd, laughing, talking, blending in like they belonged here. Maybe they did. I didn’t feel like I did. People passed by, greeting me with bright smiles, their voices warm and polite. I returned every greeting perfectly just enough, never too much hoping they wouldn’t stop for long conversations. I didn’t have the energy. My eyes moved across the room again, scanning faces. There were so many people, and yet… I barely knew any of them. Strange. Everyone looked happy tonight. Their faces glowed under the lights, effortless and confident. Everyone but me. I couldn’t explain the heaviness sitting quietly in my chest. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t demand attention. It just… stayed. The men were mostly dressed in black tailored suits, sharp lines, controlled elegance. The women brought color into the room, their dresses flowing like moving art. Three hundred people, maybe more. And still, I felt alone. That’s when I saw him. At first, it was nothing just a figure moving through the crowd. Black suit. Clean lines. Nothing unusual. Until I noticed the mask. No one else was wearing one. My gaze lingered. He moved differently not rushed, not distracted. Calm. Measured. Like the noise around him didn’t reach him at all. And then. He looked at me. Just for a second. But it was enough. His eyes were… unreal. Sharp, clear, and quietly intense, like they held something deeper than the surface allowed. The kind of eyes that didn’t just look at you, they saw you. I forgot to breathe. For a moment, I thought he was walking toward me. But he didn’t stop. He passed by, his shoulder nearly brushing mine, his gaze lingering just long enough to leave something behind… before he disappeared into the crowd. And just like that, He was gone. I stayed there, frozen, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. When I finally blinked, I realized something. I was smiling. I turned quickly, searching for him, but he had vanished completely as if he had never been there at all. Impossible.No one else was wearing a mask. I would’ve seen him. I moved through the crowd, careful not to draw attention, my eyes scanning every face, every corner. Nothing.Maybe he took it off?No… I’d still recognize him.The way he walked. The way he looked.And that scent…Soft. Sweet. Unforgettable.I couldn’t shake it off. Minutes passed. Then more. I found myself climbing the stairs to the upper corridor, leaning over the railing to search the hall below. Still nothing. My bandmates were easy to spot, surrounded by people, laughing like they belonged in this world. If I could see them… Why couldn’t I find him? An hour passed before the realization settled in. I wasn’t going to find him. And for some reason I didn’t understand, that thought hurt more than it should have.It felt like losing something I had never even had.I exhaled slowly, the weight in my chest growing heavier, and turned away.I needed space. The nearest washroom was crowded, I already knew that. So I headed upstairs, moving quickly, avoiding familiar faces. When I finally reached the empty hallway, I slipped into the washroom and locked the door behind me.Silence. Finally. I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes, letting the quiet settle around me. And then.That scent. I froze. It was the same. Soft. Sweet. Familiar.My eyes opened slowly. And there he was. Right in front of me. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. He stood close, too close, his presence overwhelming in a way that made my chest tighten. Instinctively, I looked away, my heart racing faster than I wanted it to. Maybe he noticed. Because a moment later, he stepped back and sat on the edge of the sink behind him, giving me space. I inhaled quietly, trying to steady myself, then walked over and sat beside him. The counter was slightly high, our feet not touching the ground. Silence settled between us. I could feel his gaze on me. It made me nervous. “Hi,” I said, forcing a small smile. No response. He just looked at me. “Uh… I’m Jeon Evel.” Still nothing. My fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the counter. “Why are you here?” he asked suddenly, his voice low, calm… dangerously soft. “Hiding from someone?” I blinked, caught off guard. “No… I just—” I stopped, my words tangling. “What about you?” He looked away for a moment. “It’s quieter here,” he said. Then, after a pause, his gaze returned to me. “Better.” There was something about the way he spoke… like every word was chosen carefully. I hesitated, then asked the question that had been sitting in my chest since the moment I saw him. “What’s your name?” He didn’t answer. Instead, He moved. Before I could react, he leaned closer… and then his head rested gently on my lap. My entire body went still. “I just need a moment,” he murmured, adjusting slightly, his voice softer now. “It’s too noisy down there.” His eyes closed. And just like that, he relaxed. I stared down at him, my heart pounding, unsure what to do. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Because for the first time that night, the noise, the pressure, the emptiness, It all disappeared. And somehow… It felt like I had just found what I didn’t even know I was looking for.