Y/n Pov

It is not a night that I have been planned for. Work had been tired and draining, and I really need an escape, something that can take the edge off the monotony of my routine. That's how I found myself in a small, dimly lit bar I have never noticed before.

The air inside was warm, carrying the scent of wood sage and faint traces of sea salt. Soft murmurs filled the space, but there was an undeniable energy humming beneath it all.

I had just settled into a corner when the bartender leaned in and nodded towards the stage with a knowing smile before walking away.

Bartender: You are lucky, Fangs's performing tonight.

y/n: Fangs?

Bartender: You'll see.

The stage lights dimmed, and the crowd's chatter died down. That's when I saw him, "Fangs".

He strode onto the small stage with confidence, and dressed in all black, with a white feathered mask covering the upper half of his face. The mask was intricate and delicate, its shimmer catching the light as he adjusted the mic stand.

Then, he began to sing.

His voice was like nothing I have ever heard before, soft and soulful, yet laced with emotions. He sang about heartbreak and hope, about chasing dreams and lost everything. And when he rap, he raps with sharp and poignant, each word hitting with precision and the beat.

I was mesmerized. I couldn't take my eyes off him, this man has poured his heart out onstage yet remained a mystery behind that mask. When his performance ended, the applause was loud like thunders, but he just simply bowed slightly and disappeared to the backstage.

I stayed in my seat, unable to move, replaying his performance in my mind. And that night, I made a promise to myself: I will come back again.

And I did.

Week after week, every Saturday night, I found myself in that bar, waiting for him to perform on the stage. Each time, I learned something new through his music, his emotions, his struggles,his pain and his dreams. I felt like he was speaking to me, it's like we shared an unspoken connection through his songs and melodies.

But the mask, it became my obsession. Every time I watch his performance, I found myself keep thinking about Who is he?  What is behind the mask?

And after months of attending his shows. One night, I finally decided to find out the answers myself.

After the performance, I waited near the back exit, because I know he will slip away from here. My heart pounded as I saw him step outside, his white feathered mask glowing faintly under the flickering streetlight. And I called out with trembling voice.

Y/n: Wait!

He stopped, turning toward me. Up close, he seemed even more mysterious up close, his presence is magnetic. And I asked him questions while stepping closer to him.

Y/n: Why are you wearing a mask? Why are you hide yourself?

He studied me for a moment, his eyes unreadable behind the mask. And then he said softly.

???: Because it's not about me, all that matters is the music.

And I argued with him, my voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n: But the music comes from you. Don't you think people deserve to see the man behind the mask and melody?

He hesitated, his hands twitching at his sides.

???: What if they don't like what they see?

Y/n: I think they won't. I know I won't, I am curious about what is under the mask.

I said, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. And something shifted in his expression, I can't read or understand. And after a long pause, he reached up and slowly removed the mask.

My breath hitched as his face came into view: sharp jawline, warm eyes, a small scar just above his eyebrow. He was beautiful, but more than that, he was real but vulnerable. Then he said something, and his voice barely audible.

???: Hongjoong, that's my name. And my actual real name.

I smiled, and my chest tightening with an emotion I couldn't name.

Y/n: It's nice to meet you Hongjoong.  I am Y/n.

For a moment, we just stood there, the noise from the bar and the noise around us just fading into the background. And then he smiled, a small, but real genuine smile that made my heart flutter.

From that night on, everything changed. We started talking after his performances, and I learned that the mask wasn't just about anonymity, it was his armor, his way of protecting himself from the world. But with me, he doesn't need it anymore.

As the weeks passed, we grew closer, our connection deepening with every shared conversation and stolen glance. Hongjoong was more than the man behind the mask, he was also kind, passionate, and utterly captivating.

And just like that, the girl who stumbled into a bar one night found herself falling for the melody and the man who created it.