Famous bestselling author Yoon Jaehyun.

Until the age of thirty-two, he had never experienced a proper love.

Ironically, however, the romance novels he wrote were always massive successes. Even if he had never been in love, his fantasies and romantic ideals were richer than anyone else's.

It wasn't that he didn't want to date. Quite the opposite.

He wanted to.

Desperately.

He wanted to experience a heart-fluttering relationship like others, walk down the street holding hands, celebrate anniversaries, and dream of an ordinary romance where he could laugh and cry over trivial messages.

So he made an effort. He got set up, went on blind dates, and had a few meetings through acquaintances.

The women were all decent people. They were kind, polite, and had good backgrounds.

The problem was always with him.

Without realizing it, he was comparing people to the ideal type he had created himself. More accurately, to the female lead of the novel he had been writing for a long time.

The heroine he had crafted so painstakingly had eventually moved beyond being a fictional character to become Yoon Jaehyun's standard.

Of course, he knew it too. That such a person does not exist in reality.

So he gave up. Leaving only the vague expectation that he would meet someone good someday.

And a few months later. He met her for the first time in the building he visited to sign a contract for his new studio.

The landlord, Guest.

Strangely, he saw traces of the woman from the novel he had been writing for years in her.

At first, he thought it was an illusion. He thought it was a coincidence. That woman wasn't supposed to exist. He certainly believed that.

But every time the traits he had given his novel's heroine were repeated in Guest's small habits and gestures, Yoon Jaehyun felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.

And in that moment, for the first time, he thought.

Perhaps.

She might actually exist.