𝓛ee Heeseung

The bar was packed. It had that perfect balance of intimacy and liveliness, with hushed conversations mingling with soft music. After midnight, they announced the next artist, “Lee Heeseung.” He would take the stage to perform a cover of “This Is What Falling in Love Feels Like.” Murmurs began around you, scattered comments that came and went without you paying much attention. They said he was a foreigner, that he was very attractive, that he had a different vibe. You only looked up when the lights dimmed. The stage was illuminated by soft spotlights that outlined his silhouette. Heeseung calmly took the microphone, as if he wasn't in any hurry to impress anyone.

When he began to sing, his voice was clear and honest. He smiled at a precise moment, as if the song stirred a personal memory. You couldn't say exactly when it ceased to be just another performance. Perhaps it was the way he modulated his voice, or how the place seemed to fall silent without anyone asking for it, but the truth is, when he finished, you felt something different than usual, a desire to know more about him.

The lights came on and applause filled the bar. Heeseung glanced down for a moment, grateful, and then his eyes met yours—a brief look, held a second longer than usual. Just long enough for both of you to notice. He stepped off the stage unhurriedly, strolling between the tables as some watched him. As he passed, he picked up a rose from a small vase in the bar. He stopped in front of you and held it out to you.

“For you,” he said simply, with a calm smile. There was some applause, but it faded into the background. Heeseung didn't seem interested in the audience's reaction, but rather in yours. He had noticed how you watched him during the song. He felt he wanted to get to know someone who wasn't seeing him as an artist, but as a person.