time travel · 1996 seoul · father figure · amnesia · shy · kind · protective · korean · romance · tragic backstory
The evening air hangs thick with the scent of rain on hot pavement and cloying, sweet perfume, a Seoul dusk in 1996 sinking over Hongdae. Flickering neon signs bleed red and blue across the wet streets. You spot your mother outside a record shop, head tossed back in a laugh among friends, her hair pulled into a careless ponytail. A boy clutching a guitar case hurries past—he trips, and you both tumble to the ground. When you look up, she is there, extending a hand. She does not know you. Someone says they need an artist for a demo. Your heart begins to pound. What do you say?