Arin Kim groaned, squirming under her blanket as the soft glow of her phone lit up the dorm room.
Another agency notification? Another stern reminder about her diet? Another message about rehearsal schedules?
She squinted. This one wasn't from her company. It was from the international dating app Mina had practically shoved into her hand three nights ago, claiming it would "cure your stress."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Oh no," she whispered, scrambling for her phone.
Mina, sprawled across the other bed, murmured half-asleep, "What is it? Did someone leak your dance video again?"
Arin's fingers shook as she opened the app. Her match—the very first—blinked on her screen: Ryan Thomas. United States. 31.
Her eyes lingered on his photo.
Sharp jawline, calm yet intense eyes, a faint crease at the corner of his lips that hinted at humor. A man who could probably scare off a dozen people without raising his voice, but also, somehow, make her feel at ease just by existing.
Mina sat up, messy bun wobbling. "Ryan Thomas? Girl… he looks like he could lift a car and then make you pancakes while grinning. Is he breathing? Does he like cats?"
"MINA!" Arin gasped, hiding the phone against her chest.
"I'm just saying! Look at him! That quiet type. Dangerous, but safe. You know the kind. I'd swipe right myself."
Arin rolled her eyes, but her chest felt warm, and her fingers couldn't stop trembling. She wasn't supposed to be interested—her agency had made it clear she didn't have time for romance, that dating could jeopardize her debut.
But he looked… real. And there was something about that calm intensity that made her want to know him.
The First Words
She stared at the keyboard, thumb hovering. What do I even say?
After a long inhale, she typed:
Hi, Ryan! Nice to meet you 😊 My English is not perfect. Please be patient!
Mina peered over her shoulder. "Cute. Polite. Perfect. Send it."
Arin hit send and immediately groaned. "I shouldn't have sent it!"
Mina smirked. "Relax. It's just a stranger. A cute, ridiculously handsome stranger—but still a stranger."
Ping!
Arin's heart jumped. A reply already?
You're doing great already. I can barely text in English myself.
Arin stared, breath catching. He was kind, yes, but also funny. Humble. Calm. His words didn't try to impress her—they just were.
😂😂😂 You are funny! Are you sure you American?
She laughed out loud. Mina gasped. "Ohhh, he's charming. Keep him."
Arin rolled her eyes. "Mina!" But she couldn't stop smiling.
Pretty sure, he replied.
A Photo Exchange
By the evening, Arin had sent him a photo of her dorm window. The city lights twinkled below, a jumble of neon signs, streetlights, and distant car headlights.
This is my view tonight! You can't see stars here 😭
She stared at the screen after sending it, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt—her life, her space, her corner of the world now visible to someone halfway across the globe.
Minutes later, her phone buzzed.
You'd like it here. Quiet. Peaceful.
Attached was a photo of a desert horizon at sunset—gold fading into soft violet.
Arin traced the screen with her thumb. "It's… beautiful."
She typed back, trying to sound casual:
Wow… that looks like warm honey. I like it.
There was a pause before he replied. She imagined him leaning on his balcony, quiet and steady, waiting for her response like someone who didn't need to rush.
Glad you like it. I like to share the little things I see.
Her chest fluttered. The little things he sees. The words lingered. He wasn't trying to impress her, wasn't flaunting wealth or looks or exotic hobbies. He was sharing. Simple. Honest.
Between Idol Life and Late Night Thoughts
After sending the photo, she set her phone on her lap. Her rehearsal day had been brutal—twelve hours of singing, dancing, and vocal scales that left her throat sore. But she couldn't stop thinking about him.
Even when she was counting steps in choreography or balancing on one foot during practice, his calm, patient presence—so quiet it existed only in her imagination—stayed with her.
Mina glanced at her again. "You've been staring at your phone for like… two hours. Someone's got a crush."
Arin laughed nervously. "It's not… I mean, we just started talking."
"Uh-huh. Sure. Just talking," Mina said, smirking. "You've got that dreamy expression. Don't deny it."
Arin shook her head, but her heart thumped anyway. Just talking. That's what she kept telling herself.
But every message, every photo, every little joke he sent made the distance between them feel smaller—almost like he was there, leaning against the railing of his balcony, sharing a piece of his quiet world with her.
Just a chat.
She whispered it to herself as she finally slid under her blanket for sleep, the phone warm against her chest.
But deep down, she knew it wasn't just a chat.
Late Night Realization
She stared at the desert photo one last time before letting her eyelids droop. The sky was impossibly beautiful, simple and vast, like a promise she didn't yet understand.
Her life was chaos—practice, diet, schedules, endless expectations. But for the first time in weeks, maybe months, she felt calm. Seen. Connected.
She let out a small sigh, smiling softly, whispering again:
"Just a chat."
But as sleep claimed her, she already knew the truth: it was the start of something she couldn't ignore.