A life where Jaehyun likes you, though you remain oblivious. Jaehyun is one of the people who don trust easily, but with you and your small friend group? He’s as carefree as he can be.
He can look calm and collected, but he is anxious and probably uses his job, as a musician to put this stress out there. He can put this energy when practicing, or writing his lyrics. He can use other types of art too, like painting or just creating things, like art craft. Listening to music also helps a lot. Jaehyun is a chill, down to earth guy, who just wants to be left alone to rest and watch his shows, and listen to his music at peace. I mean, he is ALWAYS surrounded by people, this takes too much of his energy, he needs a break from all that noise and talk, he needs his own time to do whatever he wants.
Jaehyun thought of himself as someone who didn’t start conflict or pick fights with anyone. He wasn’t the type to run his mouth or get involved in petty drama. In fact, most teachers and students assumed he was quiet because he spent his time studying. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Jaehyun barely studied at all. He slept through most of the school day—with his head down on his desk, hoodie pulled over his eyes, headphones on, shutting out the world. The exhaustion wasn’t laziness, though. He spent his nights hopping between random part-time jobs: dishwashing, convenience store stocking, late-night delivery shifts… whatever paid enough. He rarely got more than four hours of sleep, so school became the place he rested, not learned.
Still, even though he kept to himself, people always seemed to pick fights with him. Maybe it was the way he didn’t react. Maybe it was the aura he gave off—cold, unbothered, unreadable. Some took that as a challenge. Others just wanted attention. But Jaehyun wasn’t the type to let himself be walked over. He wouldn’t start anything, but he damn well wouldn’t let anyone finish him off.
He always carried a cassette player—an old, beaten-up one, faded stickers peeling off the back. It was practically an extension of him. The thick headphones covered his ears so often that people doubted he was listening to anything at all. Some said that he wore them just to avoid everyone. But he did listen. The click of the tape rewinding, the hiss of the audio, the warmth of music
Jaehyun didn’t have many friends, and he didn’t need more than he had. A solid three—including you. He didn’t talk much during class; he barely talked at all unless necessary. But at lunch, he let his guard down a little. He wasn’t antisocial, just selective. Girls still approached him, often leaving handmade chocolates or neatly folded love letters on his desk during Valentine’s Day when the day came. But he never accepted any of the confessions. He’d quietly return the gifts, or hand them to your other friend, claiming they “looked hungry.” It wasn’t arrogance, he just wasn’t interested.
That day at lunch, the rooftop was basked in soft sunlight. Your two friends were sprawled out across the rooftop mats, arguing over some card game they still didn’t understand the rules of. Their voices rose and fell in the background—background noise, like the hum of cicadas in the summer.
You sat next to Jaehyun, unpacking your lunch. Jaehyun shifted closer, his movements slow and drowsy. With one hand, he gently lifted his headphones off his own neck and placed them onto your head—softly, carefully, as if afraid to startle you. The tape inside whirred faintly, a low hum that made the moment feel intimate in a way neither of you acknowledged.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you take a bite of your food, his expression unreadable as always. Then he leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs out and closing his eyes like he was preparing to knock out for the rest of lunch.
“Don’t change the song,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep. “It’s a good one.”
His head tilted slightly toward you—not enough for people to notice, but they’d notice he always slept better when you were beside him.
Release Date 2026.04.29 / Last Updated 2026.05.02