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The pilot’s voice cracked through the speakers and echoed across the cabin as the plane touched down in Italy. Juwon groaned as his manager tapped him lightly on the shoulder, muttering for him to wake up. He had only just fallen asleep during the final hour of their 13-hour flight, and now he was abruptly pulled back into consciousness. Everything afterward passed in a blur—his staff practically dragging the half-asleep actor through immigration, past the crowds, and into the waiting van.
They arrived at the hotel early morning and were greeted by the staff at the entrance. Juwon groggily made his way to his suite, hoping to sleep off his fatigue. However, even with the blinds fully closed, the sky outside remained stubbornly bright, making it impossible for him to fall asleep. Irritated by the loss of sleepiness, he got up and wandered out to the balcony, gazing at the unfamiliar view of a foreign country.
His schedule barely allowed him any free time; the directors had packed his two-month stay with back-to-back shoots. As he stood there, Juwon decided he would take the day to explore the city and familiarize himself with the streets before his schedule swallowed him whole.
"Where are you going?" his manager, Shua, asked, arms crossed and a brow raised as he caught sight of his talent getting dressed.
Juwon flashed a cheeky smile. "Out. Just for a bit. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I figured I’d use the time to explore."
Shua stared at him for a moment before sighing and standing up. "Since your stubborn ass won’t take no for an answer, I’ll just come with you," he said, grabbing a cap and mask.
Juwon giggled and waited for his manager before scurrying toward the elevator.
They walked through the bustling crowd, surrounded by the intricate architecture that lined their path. Eventually, they reached the Trevi Fountain. Juwon, completely entranced by the breathtaking view, didn’t notice that Shua was no longer by his side.
"Shua, take a picture of me her—" Juwon paused mid-sentence, glancing to his right and finding no one there. A sudden surge of panic set in. He looked around, but with the sheer number of people milling about, he couldn’t spot his manager anywhere.
Heart racing, he hurriedly tried to weave his way out of the crowd—only to bump into someone with enough force to send them both tumbling to the ground.
"Oh no! I'm sorry—" Juwon began to stammer, but the words caught in his throat—not from panic, but from awe.
His eyes locked onto the stranger’s, and it was as if the entire world faded away. Cliché as it might sound, the face before him looked like a sculpture from a nearby museum brought to life. Deep, warm brown eyes that reminded him of his favorite caramel candy, ruffled brown hair that seemed irresistibly soft, and features so perfectly carved he almost thought he was dreaming.
Juwon might have believed he had run into a living statue—if not for the way the stranger’s face lit up in a dazzling smile, so bright and warm it felt as though he had personally hung the stars just for him.
"My muse!" the stranger exclaimed in Italian, abruptly grasping both of Juwon’s hands.
Flustered, Juwon tried to stay calm despite his racing heart. "Hi?" he squeaked out, his voice embarrassingly high.
The stranger launched into a rapid stream of Italian, his words lively and passionate. Juwon raised his hands in a halting gesture. "No Italian! English only, sorry!" he said, hoping his meaning would get across.
The stranger paused, comprehension dawning in his eyes. He pointed at himself and said, "Jay Lawrence. JL," then eagerly gestured toward his camera before looking meaningfully at Juwon.
A sudden lightbulb went off in Juwon’s head. "Oh! Are you a fan? You want to take pictures with me?" he asked, pointing to himself.
Recognizing the word "picture," the man—JL—nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Juwon, always happy to meet a fan—even if they happened to be the most attractive person he had ever laid eyes on—smiled brightly and said, "Of course!" while nodding along.
He readied himself for the stranger to come closer and lift the camera for a selfie, but it didn’t happen. Instead, JL grabbed his hand and pulled him gently toward a less crowded area. He positioned Juwon carefully, directing him with soft touches and gestures before clicking away, taking picture after picture.
Juwon, still confused, decided to play along. Maybe he has a fansite account? he wondered. Or an oddly eccentric fan? He didn’t know—but the smile on JL’s face made every question in his mind disappear.
They spent the rest of the afternoon like that, wandering through the city, stopping occasionally for more photos or to take in the sights. Eventually, they found a nearby restaurant.
Unfortunately, Juwon realized too late that his bag—and his wallet—were still with Shua. Flushing in embarrassment, he tried to explain, but JL simply laughed and waved it off, paying for both of them without hesitation.
Lunch was an adventure of its own. They spent it trying to piece together words from each other’s languages, gesturing wildly, laughing at the misunderstandings, and somehow, against all odds, getting to know one another in a way that felt completely effortless and free.
Juwon was giddy, giggling nonstop as JL tried to teach him Italian words by pointing to items within the restaurant, and he, in turn, tried to teach JL a few Korean words. For the first time in a long while, Juwon forgot about the cameras, the shoots, the tight schedules—and simply lived.
By the end of the night, they miraculously arrived back at the actor's hotel, where Juwon was immediately scolded by his manager.
"God! You nearly put me into an early grave, kid!" Shua screeched as the two entered the lobby.
Shua then noticed the guy next to his talent and furrowed his brows. "Who's this?" he questioned, suspicion clear in his voice.
But Juwon shushed him hurriedly and immediately asked for his phone. Shua, baffled by the audacity, just resigned himself to his fate and handed it over.
Juwon hurriedly took it and faced JL, his heart hammering. "Can you put your socials? Instagram? Number?" he asked, trying to sound casual, though the flush on his face betrayed him completely.
JL smiled warmly and said something in Italian, of which Juwon only caught the end—something sounding like musa—before grabbing the phone and typing quickly.
Juwon accepted the device back shyly, cradling it like it was a precious treasure. Without thinking, and fueled by a reckless burst of emotion, he leaned forward and kissed JL’s cheek.
Blushing furiously, he muttered a quick, "Goodnight!" and bolted toward the elevators, leaving a stunned and equally flushed JL standing behind in the middle of the lobby.
That night, after freshening up, Juwon opened his phone and found JL’s Instagram lighting up his screen. It was filled with aesthetically photographed places and events.
He readied his translator app and typed, "Hi! It's Juwon!" in Italian.
The response was immediate—and surprisingly in Korean.
"Hello Juwon, I've browsed your socials while waiting for your response. I see you've got quite the following."
This confused him. Shouldn’t a fan already know that I’m famous? A sudden realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.
"Wait, aren't you my fan?" he hurriedly typed.
Juwon waited anxiously as the typing bubbles appeared.
"Not when I met you earlier, but from our time together, I can assure you I've become a very loyal supporter." JL replied.
Juwon blushed at the response but still questioned, "Then why did you ask for my pictures earlier?"
If JL wasn’t a fan, why had he dragged Juwon around the city, clicking picture after picture of him?
The answer JL gave solidified Juwon's shaky feelings and carved a permanent space for him in Juwon's heart:
"I was honestly in a creative rut, but when I laid my eyes on you, I knew right away that you were my muse."
After that, they continued chatting, thankful for the modern convenience of a translator app that made their conversations flow. This continued throughout Juwon's trip. Whenever he could find some breathing room in his packed schedule, they would meet up—sparks flying, their connection deepening with every encounter.
Juwon dreaded the ticking clock that marked each passing day. Would the distance affect them? he wondered. Surely not, right? He was determined to make it work—but was JL on the same page?
On the last night, their conversations flowed just as easily, until a half-asleep, head-empty Juwon typed out:
"Would things change when I leave tomorrow? I really hope they won't. I'm starting to fall for you"
—before falling into a deep sleep.
When he woke the next morning, he checked his phone and was mortified. He had confessed—and JL had seen the message, but hadn’t replied.
Dread filled his heart as he listlessly got ready for his flight, head down as he sat waiting for his number to be called. Did I scare him off? he thought miserably.
A pair of boots suddenly entered his vision, and he quickly looked up to find JL standing in front of him with a big smile on his face.
"JL? What are you doing here?" he stammered, scrambling to his feet.
JL just smiled at him for a moment before a determined look crossed his features. He opened his mouth—and stunned Juwon by speaking in a careful Korean,
"I think a change of scenery would do me good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Especially when my muse is there."
He waved a flight ticket in his hand.
Juwon all but swooned on the spot.
"So you mean..." Juwon whispered, eyes wide.
Laughing, JL placed his hands gently on Juwon's waist and pressed their foreheads together. His next words were so soft only Juwon could hear:
"I've fallen for you too, my muse."
~Fin~