Chapter Text
The camera flashes were rhythmic, like a strobe light designed specifically to give Park Sunghoon a migraine. He sat behind the mahogany table, his posture perfect, his expression as cool and unreadable as a marble statue. This was the press conference for Winter’s End, his third blockbuster melodrama in two years.
"Sunghoon-ssi!" a reporter from a major entertainment site called out. "In the film, your character sacrifices everything for a chance at true love. In reality, you’ve been dubbed the ‘Ice Prince’ because of your stance on romance. Has playing this role changed your mind?"
Sunghoon leaned into the microphone. A ghost of a smirk played on his lips—the kind that made fans scream and publicists sweat.
"Fiction is fascinating because it explores impossible things," Sunghoon replied, his voice smooth and steady. "Dragons, time travel, and the idea that one person is the 'key' to your happiness. I find romance to be a beautifully marketed distraction. One can live an entire, fulfilling life without it. Why chase a chemical spike when you can chase a career?"
The room erupted in whispers. By the time he walked off stage, the headline [Park Sunghoon: "Romance is an Impossible Fiction"] was already trending #1 on Weibo and Nate.
"You’re going to be the death of me," his manager, Sejin, groaned as he pulled the black van out of the studio lot. "Could you not be so cynical for just one interview? The fans want to believe you’re a closet romantic."
Sunghoon leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching the rain begin to streak across the Seoul skyline. "I’m being honest, hyung. It’s better than selling a lie."
"Whatever. You’re grumpy because you haven’t slept." Sejin reached over and tapped the infotainment screen. "I’m playing something new. My cousin’s friend sent it to me. It’s a demo from some indie kid."
Sunghoon prepared to close his eyes and tune it out. He expected the usual—over-produced synth or a loud, aggressive beat.
Instead, a soft, acoustic guitar plucked a lonely, wandering melody. Then, the voice started.
It wasn't powerful or belting. It was... honey. It was the sound of a warm blanket on a snowy day. The singer’s voice had a slight, breathy quality to it, rounding out the vowels with a sweetness that felt dangerously intimate.
“If the stars are too bright tonight, I’ll hide them in my pocket for you...”
Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. The lyrics were simple, almost naive, but the way the singer delivered them made Sunghoon’s chest feel strangely tight. For three minutes, the cynical "Ice Prince" forgot he was in a van in the middle of a Seoul traffic jam.
As the last note faded into silence, Sunghoon cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
"The title," Sunghoon said, his voice a bit raspier than usual. "What was that?"
Sejin glanced at him, surprised. "Oh? You actually liked it? It’s called 'Dive' by some kid named Kim Sunoo. Pretty voice, right?"
"It’s... alright," Sunghoon lied, turning back to the window. "A bit sentimental."
The moment Sunghoon entered his penthouse, he didn't do his usual routine. He didn't check his script. He didn't even put his shoes in the rack properly—a crime for someone as neat as him. He kicked off his loafers, tossed his designer jacket onto the sofa, and headed straight for his bedroom.
He flopped onto the bed, pulled out his phone, and typed the name into the search bar: KIM SUNOO.
Results: 0 News Articles. Results: 1 Profile.
Sunghoon clicked the profile. The artist's photo was a blurry, candid shot of a boy laughing while holding a bag of spicy rice cakes. He had fox-like eyes and a smile that seemed to radiate more light than the sun itself.
"Kim Sunoo," Sunghoon whispered to the empty room.
He scrolled down to the discography, expecting a long list. He found four songs.
- Dive
- Cloud
- Lemonade
- Sunlight
"Only four?" Sunghoon muttered, a strange sense of indignation rising in him. "How can someone with a voice like that only have four songs? What is his agency doing? Does he even have an agency?"
He played Cloud. Then Lemonade. Then Sunlight.
By 2:00 AM, Sunghoon had listened to each song exactly fifteen times. He knew the way Sunoo’s voice hitched at the 2:14 mark of Dive. He knew the way he giggled softly at the end of Lemonade.
He needed more. He needed to know what this Sunoo thought about, what he ate, why he wasn't the most famous person in the world.
He opened Twitter (X). He looked at his official account—@ParkSunghoon_Official (4.2M followers). He couldn't post there. The world would implode if the "Anti-Romance" King started fangirling over an indie singer.
With trembling fingers, he clicked 'Create New Account'.
Handle: @IcePrince02
Display Name: Sunoo’s #1 Protector
Bio: Just here for the music.
His first tweet was a link to Dive.
@IcePrince02: > Why is no one talking about this? This is the most important vocal performance of the decade. Everyone else is doing it wrong. Listen to Kim Sunoo or you’re tasteless.
Sunghoon stared at the screen, his heart racing faster than it ever did during an awards ceremony.
"There," he said, nodding firmly. "Justice for Kim Sunoo."