As dawn approached, the colors inside the host bar grew deeper. Blue and red lights flickered alternately under the dim lighting, and countless voices mingled amidst the low-thumping music. Doors constantly opened and closed in the rooms lining both sides of the hallway. The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and voices calling out familiar names piled up in layers in the narrow corridor.

In the innermost part of that noisy space, you were serving another customer. You couldn't even count how many it had been today. Your head felt heavy from not resting properly since morning, and there was even a bit of lingering intoxication, but you didn't show it. In this place, a tired face was a luxury.

That's when a strange presence was felt near the entrance.

It was a man you'd never seen before. His light-catching silver hair was casually disheveled yet strangely neat, and the eyes set in his pale face were cold and relaxed. From the black shirt and jacket to the several rings on his fingers, he was strangely eye-catching even in the flashy space.

Most unusual of all was his expression. There was no sign of the curiosity or awkwardness commonly seen in first-timers. The man headed straight for the counter without even looking around.

His voice as he asked the madam something was low and composed. When the madam bowed as if asking him to wait a moment, the man casually tossed a thick envelope of cash onto the counter.

He didn't even open the envelope to show it. He just lightly pushed it forward with one finger and looked at her.

His meaning was clear enough without a single word.

The madam hesitated for a moment before finally nodding and soon headed toward the room where you were.

Before long, the door opened. You had a face that hadn't fully grasped the situation, having been suddenly called out. Your clothes were disheveled from serving multiple customers, and a faint flush of intoxication remained on your face. You looked back several times while being led down the hallway by the madam, but you received no explanation.

Finally, you arrived in front of a room.

The door opened, and the silver-haired man sitting inside looked up. The moment you stepped into the room, his expression changed for the first time. His brow furrowed for a split second. The relaxed smile hanging on his lips also stiffened slightly.

He didn't scan you up and down. Instead, he looked at your face.

Eyes that were slightly out of focus. An exhausted expression. A nonchalant face that seemed to expect nothing.

The man stared at you in silence for a while, then slowly leaned back and placed his arms on the table. He leisurely tapped the table with his fingers, a playful smile returning to his lips.

As if that previous expression had never existed in the first place.

You looked at him. He was a stranger. Yet, strangely, his gaze was different from the customers you had encountered here so far.

It wasn't light curiosity or simple interest.

He was looking at you like someone trying to confirm something. As if he had finally found someone he had been looking for for a long time, rather than someone he was meeting for the first time.

He said nothing. He just looked at you.

Music continued to echo outside the room. Laughter and the clinking of glasses could be heard through the walls, but strangely, it was as if time had stopped inside that room.

You felt increasingly uncomfortable. Every time you turned your head, his gaze followed. When you avoided his eyes, he looked at you again as if he had been waiting. He didn't miss even the small movement of you tidying your hair or the moment you picked up a glass to drink water.

A man with a sly impression would have thrown out a few words by now, but he remained silent. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying that silence.

Finally, the man tilted his head slightly. His silver hair flowed over his forehead, and his eyes curved leisurely. A playful smile. But his gaze was strangely serious.

You didn't know.

Why he chose you, why he went out of his way to pay and call for you, and why he was looking so tenaciously at someone he was meeting for the first time.

The man didn't know the exact reason either.

At first, he thought it was simple curiosity. That you just happened to catch his eye among the many people. So he just wanted to check for himself.

But once he actually had you in front of him, it was different from what he thought.

You were more exhausted than he thought, more indifferent than he thought, and had a face that expected nothing more than he thought.

That appearance strangely weighed on his mind.

Normally, he would have found amusement in observing people. He was used to reading expressions and tones to find out where someone would falter. But strangely, his calculations kept failing in front of you.

He was bothered by how tired you looked, and the faint traces left under your eyes caught his attention. He also noticed that the movement of your wrists was slower than usual. Most of all, he remembered the way you were pretending to be fine.

He didn't like that fact.

That night, you thought of him as just a slightly peculiar customer. You thought his calling you with money, staring at you in silence for a long time, and showing such strange interest in you were just due to his eccentric personality.

But for the man, that night was not the end.

Even after that day, your face kept coming to mind. At first, he thought it was a coincidence. It was the same when he sought you out a second time. But by the third time, it could no longer be called a coincidence.

He still wore a nonchalant face.

Just because it's fun. Just because I'm curious. Just because I want to see you one more time. He attached those reasons to himself.

But at some point, all those reasons became lies.

He felt strangely bothered by the news of you serving other customers, and he wondered who you were laughing with while he wasn't there. He even felt the urge to check if you remembered him.

All those emotions couldn't be explained by simple curiosity. Even so, he didn't admit it. The fact that he was starting to lose his heart to someone. Not yet.

That night, he was just a man who felt an unusually strong interest in someone he met for the first time.

And you didn't know either.

How often that silver-haired man who watched you that day would come looking for you in the future.

How tenaciously that night's coincidence would create a bond between the two of you.

Knowing nothing, you returned to the dim lighting. And the man slowly curled his lips upward as he watched your retreating figure. You didn't know then what that smile would mean in the future.