The heart know what it wants

On paper, Night had it all.

With sculpted features that seemed carved by a Renaissance artist, piercing eyes that captured the camera like a magnet, and a physique honed by discipline and time, he was every photographer’s dream. Fashion campaigns, magazine covers, runway shows—Night had done them all. From Seoul to Milan, his face had already started becoming recognizable in the modeling world. Most people in his shoes would have continued chasing the catwalk spotlight. Why wouldn’t they? The money was steady, the attention addictive, and the path ahead clear.

But then came that email.

It had arrived in his inbox one late night after a shoot for a clothes brand. Tired, slightly sleepy, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Night had clicked open the message from a sender named Dream Entertainment. He almost ignored it. Spam, probably. But curiosity got the better of him.

Dear Mr. Night,

We’ve been following your recent campaigns and believe you embody the exact charisma and look we are searching for in our upcoming BL series. We would be honored to have you attend a private meeting to discuss this project further.

You will not be required to audition.

No audition. Just a meeting.

He had read it once, then again, then again. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what a BL series was. In fact, he had been offered smaller web projects before but always turned them down. Not because he was against the idea—he wasn’t. But because, deep down, he didn’t want to fake something he couldn’t commit to emotionally. Acting was different from modeling. In front of the camera, you could pretend to be anyone. But in a drama, especially a BL one… there was vulnerability involved. Emotion. Chemistry.

And if that chemistry didn’t feel real—what was the point?

For three days, the email sat unread in his inbox. He would open it, close it, type a rejection draft, delete it, and repeat. His manager had told him to follow his gut. “If you’re not feeling it, don’t take it. You don’t need it.” Night nodded, grateful for the freedom to choose. After all, he wasn’t desperate for money, and his schedule was already packed.

But something—something—kept him from deleting the message.

Until another email came in.

To Mr. Night,

We are still hoping for your response. If you are hesitant about the actor lineup or project direction, we understand. However, to help you decide, we’ve attached a brief profile of one of the other selected talents.

P.S. Out of respect for privacy, we are only sharing general information.

It felt oddly personal. Still skeptical, he downloaded the attachment.

The file opened to a clean, simple layout—headshots and short bios of a few candidates. Nothing too detailed. Night scrolled lazily through them, half-distracted, until his finger stopped on the last page.

A face.

Not perfect, not posed. A bit awkward, even. But there was something about this boy’s photo that grabbed him—smiley eyes, soft lips, a face still unsure of itself in front of a camera. His expression was nervous but sincere, like he wasn’t pretending to be someone else. His name was listed below in plain black font:

Sky — 19 y/o — Mechanical Engineering Student — Newcomer Talent

A student? Night blinked.

He stared at the photo longer than he should have, dragging the image wider with his fingers to look closer. The boy’s eyes seemed to look right at him. Not through him, but at him. It was disarming. Unexplainable.

His half-written rejection email? Deleted.

He sat back, cracked his knuckles, and opened a fresh message.

To: Dream Entertainment

Thank you for the invitation. I’m honored and excited about the offer. I will attend the scheduled meeting.

He clicked send without thinking twice.

It didn’t make sense—at least, not logically. But something about that photo stirred something in his chest. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. A twinge of anticipation. Curiosity. And, maybe, hope.

Was it foolish to accept an offer based on a single image?

Probably.

But Night had always been someone who followed his instincts. And this time, his heart seemed to be pulling him in a direction he couldn’t ignore.

Maybe it was just a job. Maybe it was just another project.

Or maybe—it was something more.

—

A week later, Night walked through the glass doors of Dream Entertainment’s headquarters. The building was sleek and modern, with a bright open-concept lobby that buzzed with energy. A staff member led him to a medium-sized meeting room.

Inside, five young men sat in a semi-circle, chatting quietly.

And then he saw him.

Sky.

Sitting near the end, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. His smile was just like the photo — shy, genuine. Night’s eyes locked on him instinctively.

He barely noticed anyone else in the room.

—

Just then, the door opened, and three Dream Entertainment staff entered.

The man in front had a friendly smile but carried himself like a general marching into a battlefield. Late thirties maybe, dark slacks, tucked-in polo, clipboard in hand. His aura said, I'm kind unless you test me.

“Good morning,” he began, clapping his hands once to get everyone’s attention. “My name is Aston. I’m a producer here at Dream Entertainment. I’ve been with the company for three years, and I’ll be leading this project.”

He paused, scanning the room with a slight nod, then added with a grin, “Don’t worry — I only bite if you’re lazy.”

Some of the boys chuckled nervously.

Behind him stood a round-faced woman with short curls and a big, genuine smile.

“This is Clarine,” Aston continued, motioning toward her. “She’s my assistant — and the real boss when things get chaotic.”

Clarine waved enthusiastically. “I’m so excited to work with you all! I already saw your photos and — oh my gosh, you’re even more handsome in person!” She covered her mouth, laughing at herself. “I mean — professionally speaking, of course!”

The mood lightened.

“And that quiet guy in the back pretending not to be here,” Aston added, pointing at a lanky young man in sunglasses and a lanyard around his neck, “is Ben, our intern. He’s here to take notes, so don’t mind him.”

Ben gave a small wave without lifting his sunglasses. He looked like he was trying to be invisible, typing rapidly into a tablet.

Aston’s voice grew firm again. “Now — I know some of you are experienced, and some of you are brand new. That’s okay. Our job is to bring out your best and match you with the right roles.”

Aston tapped his clipboard once more, his grin returning — but now with the energy of someone about to shake things up.

“So, for this first project,” he began, walking slowly across the front of the room, “we’ll be launching a workshop series — to find the best fit for each of you as an on-screen couple.”

He paused for effect. Some of the boys exchanged confused glances.

“As you probably know, Dream Entertainment is known for its legendary 'ships' — like ZoeNoel, MartinNan, and others. We don’t force chemistry. We find it.”

He flipped a page on his clipboard. “That’s why we won’t be pairing you up ourselves. Instead, you’ll go through a series of reality show-style workshop challenges. Think of it like a dating show — something in the spirit of The Boyfriend. We’ll focus on developing natural chemistry, emotional connections, and fun interactions, as well as workshops to prepare you for entering the entertainment industry.”

The room fell quiet. Everyone was listening now — including Night, whose eyes subtly shifted back toward Sky, who looked equally curious and nervous.

“This workshop series will be filmed and released on our streaming platform,” Aston continued, “so the audience gets to see how the ships form — organically. You’ll go through games, activities, even heart-to-heart interviews. And yes, we’ll be watching how you laugh together, fight together, cook together, maybe even cry together.”

He looked up again. “We believe the best way to build a real ship is to let you find each other.”

Clarine clapped her hands together. “It’s like love at first sight — but under the spotlight!”

Aston chuckled. “And this isn’t the end goal. Once we’ve found the strongest pairing — the one with the most authentic bond — there will be real work ahead. Drama series, photoshoots, fan meetings, OST collaborations, maybe even overseas promotions.”

He paused, letting it all sink in.

“We want to make you stars — not just actors in a project. If you're ready to commit, we’ll take you higher than you can imagine.”

Ben, the quiet intern, looked up for a moment from his tablet and nodded silently, as if agreeing from the shadows.

Sky's hand tightened on his thigh. Night noticed — the boy was clearly overwhelmed, but determined.

And for the first time since entering the room, Night allowed a rare, faint smile to touch his lips.

He was starting to get excited.

—

Aston flipped to the final page on his clipboard and looked around the room with a practiced smile.

“Now, as for the filming,” he said, “we will begin exactly one month from today. There won’t be any further meetings or prep sessions between now and then — so consider this your one and only briefing.”

He clicked the remote, and the screen behind him displayed a photo of a large, modern house surrounded by trees and glass walls.

“This is the workshop location,” he explained. “It’s a private residence fitted with cameras, mics, and everything you need. On the day of filming, come to the address we’ll send you. The staff will be there to help you mic up and get settled. But once you walk inside…”

He looked up, locking eyes with a few of the boys — including Night and Sky.

“You’re on your own. No scripts. No instructions. Just be yourselves. The house becomes your world.”

Some of the boys leaned forward, clearly intrigued.

“For the sake of keeping the surprise fresh and the emotions real,” Aston added, “we highly recommend that you don’t meet again before the filming day. Let the audience — and yourselves — see how the first sparks fly on camera.”

Clarine, who’d been quietly watching their reactions, suddenly piped in, “And of course, since you’ll be in front of the camera — let’s all agree to look our absolute best that day!”

She grinned warmly, folding her hands on the table. “I mean, you all already look stunning, don’t get me wrong,” she said with a chuckle, “but we want you to be mindful of your appearance — clothes, skin, hair, everything! First impressions matter, and the audience will fall in love with you from the very first frame.”

“And just to be clear,” Aston chimed back in, his tone a little more serious now, “we’ll also be doing standard digital background checks. Being a public figure means being responsible — both offline and online. Any issues could affect future casting decisions.”

There was a brief silence as the weight of his words settled.

Night leaned back slightly in his chair, processing everything. This wasn’t just a show. It was a launchpad. And maybe — just maybe — a turning point.

Once again, Night glanced toward Sky, who sat stiffly in his chair, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted — clearly overwhelmed by the flood of information. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie, and Night could almost hear the whirring of thoughts in that anxious little head. It was probably his first time being part of anything like this. First camera. First meeting. First brush with the entertainment world.

Night let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing slightly.

Then he noticed it — the guy sitting next to Sky had leaned in, whispering something to him with a too-easy smile. Sky nodded politely, clearly unsure how to respond, but that guy… he was getting a little too comfortable.

A sharp, irrational twist clenched in Night’s chest.

He didn’t understand it, not fully — but a part of him wanted to grab Sky by the wrist, pull him across the room, and plant him in the seat next to him. Somewhere far from prying eyes, far from boys who thought they could casually flirt with his—

Night caught himself mid-thought.

His?

He blinked, suddenly very aware of the direction his feelings were spiraling. But still… the tightness in his chest didn’t go away.

Not when Sky gave a small, awkward laugh.

Not when the guy leaned in again.

Not when he saw Sky glance around the room like he was searching for someone — maybe even looking for him.

And in that moment, Night knew one thing for certain:

Whatever this project was turning into…

He wasn’t just here to act.

He was here to protect something.

Or rather, someone.

And it all started with that boy named Sky.

As the meeting wrapped up and the participants slowly stood, chattering and stretching, Night stayed seated a little longer, eyes still fixed on the boy with the nervous laugh and downturned gaze.

Sky stood too, bumping shoulders with the guy beside him, giving another unsure smile. That twist returned to Night’s chest. A subtle ache, a quiet tug — not loud, not urgent, but steady.

That smile wasn't meant for someone else. At least... not if Night had a say.

He rose from his seat at last, not approaching, not speaking — just watching as Sky followed the crowd out of the meeting room. The boy didn't look back.

But Night did.

And as the door closed between them, he realized this wasn’t just about a role or a show or a contract.

It was about a feeling.

A pull.

A quiet certainty whispering through the noise of logic and reason.

Because at the end of the day…

The mind may stall and weigh and front,

but the heart — it knows what it wants.