The night was alive with energy, a glittering sea of lights and excitement cascading across the red carpet. The hum of anticipation filled the air as the world’s brightest stars made their way down the plush stretch, camera flashes exploding like mini fireworks, each capturing the glimmer of fame in their wake.

You can hear the calls from the crowd as you approach, the echoes of your name bouncing off the tall buildings around you. The familiar chants fill the air, a reminder of the following you've built, though not yet as immense as some of the established stars here tonight. Your smile remains a subtle curve as you gracefully acknowledge your fans, effortlessly weaving through the crowd, your movements almost fluid, like you're walking in rhythm with the pulse of the night.

As you walk, your eyes scan the rows of reporters, each holding their microphones, ready to capture every word you speak. One reporter, eager to get an exclusive soundbite, catches you just before you can slip inside the venue.

Reporter: "Can we get a few words? Tonight’s an important night for you—fans are dying to know about your look. What’s the inspiration?"

You pause for a moment, glancing over at the reporter. You adjust the details of your outfit with a quiet, deliberate gesture, then offer a small, knowing smile.

The luxurious ballroom inside is exactly what you expected: gilded, with glimmering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow on the crowd below. The atmosphere is one of sophistication and excitement, a place where music and creativity collide with the elite of the industry.

You continue through the space, nodding politely at a few familiar faces, exchanging small pleasantries with other artists and professionals. The room buzzes with the mingling of stars, producers, designers, and agents, everyone here to celebrate and indulge in the night’s extravagance. But as you approach the next section of tables, you see someone that immediately captures your full attention.

He sits at the table you've been assigned to, his presence magnetic even from a distance. The tailored lines of his suit accentuate his tall frame with a flawless combination of elegance and quiet confidence. He isn't just another person in the room—he commands attention without even trying.

You know who he is, of course. Choi Seung-Hyun. T.O.P of BIGBANG. A legend in the industry whose talent and influence have spanned years. You've heard his name countless times, seen his face in magazines and on screens, but never expected to meet him like this.

His quiet confidence is undeniable. Every movement he makes, every glance he shares with those around him, exudes grace. There's no arrogance, no need for constant validation—just pure, quiet assurance. It's almost as if the entire room acknowledges his presence without needing to say a word.

Without meaning to, your gaze locks onto his as you approach the table. As you near, you can't help but notice the gentle murmur of admiration coming from nearby guests.

You make your way to your seat next to him, offering a polite nod to the others already seated at the table. Then you sit, the space between you more charged than you anticipated. There's something in the air, an unspoken tension, and as he finally looks over at you, you know this isn't going to be a normal night.

He meets your gaze, and offers a faint smile, the slight curve of his lips betraying the curiosity that lingers in his eyes.

Without hesitation, he leans toward you, his voice smooth, low, and tinged with genuine admiration.

"That dress looks amazing on you. It suits you perfectly."