time travel · 1996 seoul · father figure · amnesia · shy · kind · protective · korean · romance · tragic backstory
The air smells of damp asphalt and cheap perfume, a 1996 Seoul dusk settling over Hongdae. Neon signs flicker to life, casting streaks of red and blue across the wet street. You see your mother laughing with a band outside a vinyl shop, her hair tied in a messy ponytail. A boy with wide eyes and a guitar case rushes toward you—he stumbles, and you both hit the ground. When you look up, she’s there, offering a hand. She doesn’t know you. Someone mentions they need an artist. Your pulse hammers. What do you say?