Yes I am in Love! So?

II missed you,” he whispered, drawing her closer. “More than I ever knew how to say. I tried so hard to hide it, to convince myself that I could live without you... but it's you, Xana. It's always been you.”

She leaned into his warmth, and something inside her finally gave way. She had waited so long to hear those words, had imagined them in a thousand different ways, yet nothing could have prepared her for how deeply they would touch her when they finally came. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, and this time, she didn't try to hold them back. For a few precious seconds, she allowed herself to believe that the love in his voice was real, that the arms holding her would never let her go.

Then, slowly, she drew back, searching his eyes as though she wanted to memorize every last detail of this moment before it disappeared. Somewhere deep inside, she knew it would. This tenderness, this confession, this feeling of finally being loved the way she had always longed to be loved—it would all vanish in an instant. And God, how desperately she wished it didn't have to. How desperately she wished she could stay here, in his arms, where everything felt right.

“Cut.”

Youna released her gently.

And just like that, the warmth was gone.

The tenderness disappeared from his eyes, the vulnerability from his expression, and the man who had just confessed his undying love to Xana was gone, leaving Youna standing in his place. He stepped back with the same composure he had carried onto the set, as though he hadn't just poured his heart into a confession that had left half the crew struggling to hold back their tears.

Xana remained on the floor, motionless, her hands empty. For a moment, she seemed unable to understand that it was over, that the arms she had leaned into so trustingly belonged to a man who had only been playing a part. The set had fallen unusually quiet. Around them, crew members exchanged glances, some discreetly wiping their eyes, others simply staring at the two actors who had made fiction feel painfully real.

Youna, meanwhile, turned toward the director. There was no arrogance in his expression, no need to bask in the effect he had created. He was simply waiting for confirmation, for that small nod that would tell him he had given the scene exactly what it needed. He knew the performance had been right; he could feel it in the silence that had settled over the set. Still, he waited.

The director finally nodded, visibly moved by the sheer control with which Youna had surrendered himself to the scene. It was astonishing, really, how completely he could inhabit another man's heart and make an entire room believe in a love that existed only between the lines of a script.

Satisfied, Youna turned and walked away, calm and unhurried. His manager and his twelve-member team fell into step behind him, following as naturally as though the extraordinary moment everyone else was still processing had been nothing more than another scene on an ordinary day.

The director's attention returned to Xana.

She was still on the floor, struggling to gather herself, and he couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy. Whatever had passed between the two actors in front of the camera, the emotions it had stirred in her were unmistakably real. He knew how difficult it was for her to pull herself away from someone who had felt so impossibly close only moments ago.

His gaze drifted toward the doorway through which Youna had disappeared.

A weary sadness settled over his face. He understood Xana's longing, perhaps better than she realized, but he also knew Youna well enough to understand that no amount of love, no matter how genuine or desperately offered, would be enough to make him soften.

And so, he said nothing.

He had never heard him say that he missed someone.

And he had never seen him fall in love.

The car door opened. Youna slid into the back seat, settled against the leather, and closed his eyes.

"Wake me when we arrive," he said.

Leo nodded and got into the front passenger seat.

As the car pulled away, he looked through the window at the city moving past them.

Somewhere out there, millions of people loved Youna.

They loved his smile, his voice, his eyes. They loved the men he became on screen and the heartbreaking romances he brought to life. They dreamed of being the person who could make him fall in love.

None of them understood that the greatest challenge would not be making Youna fall in love.

It would be convincing him that love was something worth believing in.

Leo turned back towards the road.

He had no idea that the quiet, carefully controlled world he had spent fifteen years protecting was about to encounter someone who might change everything.

And he had no idea that, for the first time in Youna's life, the story would not be one he could control.

Because somewhere beyond the gates of Youna's perfectly ordered existence, Someone was dyainv to enter his world.

------------------------------------------

£6,267.

He looked at the amount in his bank account and smiled to himself.

It was a good amount, certainly, but it was nowhere near enough. He still had a considerable sum to collect before he could pay his uni expense ,send money for His charity ,and put aside enough for his annual trip to South Korea in March. Every pound had a purpose, every expense had been calculated, and every month had a target he was determined to meet.

He had already worked out the numbers several times. He knew precisely how much he needed to earn, how much he had to save, and how much he could afford to spend without compromising any of his plans.

And yet, despite all those calculations, he had just made two more decisions to protect his savings.

He had skipped the bus home.

He had skipped lunch, too.

Instead, he had bought a packet of three apples, which he considered a perfectly reasonable alternative. One apple would keep him going for a while, and the other two could be eaten later. There was no point spending money on a bus when he could walk, and there was certainly no need to buy lunch when he had apples in his bag.

At least, that was how he justified it to himself.

Outside, the weather was merciless.

Snow covered the pavements, and the freezing wind cut through his clothes as though his coat offered little protection. His nose, ears, and cheeks had turned a deep, bloody red from the cold, and his fingers were beginning to lose their warmth inside his pockets.

Yet he was smiling.

His AirPods were firmly in place, and whatever he was listening to seemed to be keeping his spirits high. Every so often, he moved his head to the rhythm of the music, stepping carefully through the snow as he made his way towards a charity centre.

Anyone passing him might have thought he was simply enjoying a winter walk.

Nobody would have guessed that he had skipped both his bus and his lunch to save money. Nobody would have imagined that the young man walking through the freezing streets was one of the most expensive AI geniuses working for his company.

And he certainly didn't look like someone whose mind was capable of solving problems that left entire teams of experienced engineers struggling.

His clothes were ordinary, his shoes had seen better days, and his coat was far from fashionable. He didn't own an impressive car, nor did he care about dressing in expensive brands. For him, such things were unnecessary distractions from the life he was trying to build.

He had been living this way for five years.

Every Tuesday, he visited the same charity centre, where a kind woman would put aside clothes and other useful things for him. Sometimes she found him a warm jumper or a pair of trousers in good condition. On other occasions, she managed to save him some food or something else he needed.

He was grateful for everything she gave him, although he never made a great show of it. He understood the value of things that other people might overlook, and he never treated her kindness as something he was entitled to receive.

In five years, he had developed a routine that left very little room for unnecessary spending. He bought himself one new outfit before his annual trip to South Korea, and that was practically the only time he spent money on new clothes. Everything else came from what he already owned or what he could find at the charity centre.

It wasn't that he couldn't afford to buy more.

It was that he had already decided where his money needed to go.

His university and the future he was planning came second His annual trip to South Korea had its own place in his budget, but the most important thing was the money he had been sending for His charity for last five years ,and he refused to let anything interfere with it.

Every year, he calculated his savings target in advance and worked towards it with remarkable discipline.

And in five years, he had never once missed that target.

The snow blew against his face, making his eyes water. He pulled his scarf higher, muttered something about the ridiculous weather, and then broke into another smile when the music changed in his ears.

For all his intelligence, he could be surprisingly stubborn.

He knew the sensible thing would have been to take the bus and buy himself a proper lunch. He knew he could make his life more comfortable if he loosened his grip on his money.

But comfort had never been his priority.

He had a goal, and he was going to reach it.

---

Five years earlier, several of the world's most competitive technology companies had tried to recruit him.

It was hardly surprising.

He was a born genius, particularly when it came to computers and artificial intelligence. Complex systems that overwhelmed other people seemed almost intuitive to him. He could identify patterns, recognise weaknesses, and develop solutions with a speed that repeatedly astonished his colleagues.

Give him a difficult technical problem, and he could lose himself in it for hours. He would examine every detail, test every possibility, and keep working until he found an answer.

Computers made sense to him.

People were more complicated.

Human beings could say one thing and mean another. Their emotions could contradict their words, and their decisions didn't always follow any recognisable logic. He often found people far more difficult to understand than the most complicated systems he worked with.

Perhaps that was why his colleagues sometimes joked that he was more computer than human.

They weren't entirely wrong.

His mind was extraordinarily analytical, his attention to detail almost frightening, and his ability to concentrate on a problem bordered on obsession. He didn't need to announce his intelligence or remind anyone of his achievements. His work spoke for itself.

By the time he was choosing where to begin his professional career, he had offers from companies that would have been proud to have him on their teams. They offered attractive salaries, excellent research facilities, and opportunities that could have secured his financial future.

He examined every offer carefully.

He compared the salaries, benefits, research opportunities, working conditions, and locations. He considered what each company could offer him, not only in the present but also in the years ahead.

Then he chose SoulCyber.

The decision surprised some people, but it made perfect sense to him.

SoulCyber's head office was in South Korea.

And South Korea was where he wanted to be.

He had his own reasons for wanting to visit the country, and he had no intention of allowing that dream to remain something he could only imagine. Rather than spending his money on frequent holidays he couldn't comfortably afford, he had found a way to combine his professional ambitions with something he genuinely looked forward to.

SoulCyber offered to support his education. He considered the arrangement carefully and negotiated for the company to cover his annual trip to South Korea instead.

They agreed.

It was a clever decision. His education was already becoming far less expensive than he had anticipated, and the company's travel arrangement meant that his annual journey would not place the same burden on his savings.

But the real surprise came from his university.

In his first year, he received an eighty per cent scholarship.

Then, in his second semester, his financial support rose to an extraordinary 167 per cent.

The figure was not an ordinary tuition discount. His scholarship and additional funding together exceeded the cost of his tuition, meaning the excess could contribute towards his other study-related expenses.

In effect, the university was providing him with enough support not only to study but also to receive money beyond his tuition costs.

He had managed to reach a point where he was being paid to study.

For someone with his abilities, it was perhaps inevitable.

He never took that opportunity for granted. He continued studying, continued working, and continued saving with the same determination he had shown from the beginning.

Every decision was made with his future in mind.

He didn't replace things that still worked. He didn't spend money simply because he had earned it. He didn't feel the need to impress people with expensive clothes or an extravagant lifestyle.

He knew what he wanted, and he knew what it would cost him to achieve it.

For five years, he had followed his plan without allowing himself to become distracted.

And every March, when he finally travelled to South Korea, he felt that all those little sacrifices had been worthwhile.

---

By the time he reached the charity centre, the cold had begun to seep through even his thick coat.

He pushed open the door, hurried inside, and pulled one AirPod from his ear.

The woman behind the counter looked up. The moment she saw him, her expression changed.

"Oh, look at you! You're absolutely freezing!"

He laughed, rubbing his hands together.

"Hello! It's a little cold today, isn't it?"

"A little cold? Look at your face! Your nose is practically purple. Why on earth did you walk here in this weather?"

He considered the question seriously for a moment.

"Well, I was already walking, so I thought I might as well continue."

She stared at him.

He smiled.

"That wasn't an answer, was it?"

"No, it wasn't!" she exclaimed, though she was already struggling not to laugh. "Come inside properly. And take that scarf off for a moment. Let me see you."

He obeyed, still smiling, while she disappeared into the back room.

She returned a few minutes later carrying a warm jumper, a pair of trousers, and a paper bag.

"I saved these for you," she said, handing him the clothes. "The jumper is lovely and warm, and the trousers are in very good condition. I thought you might be able to use them."

His expression softened.

"Thank you. Really."

"And there's some food in here, too." She handed him the bag before looking directly into his face. "Now tell me honestly. Have you eaten anything today?"

He hesitated for half a second.

"An apple."

"An apple?"

"Well, there are three in the packet, actually."

She closed her eyes briefly, as though asking the universe for patience.

"Oh, honestly!"

He burst out laughing.

She shook her head, muttering about stubborn young people, and told him to take the food without arguing.

He didn't argue. He simply thanked her again and carefully folded the clothes so they wouldn't get crushed in his bag.

He had been coming here for five years, and he never forgot how much these small acts of kindness helped him. He might be extraordinarily gifted, and he might be working for one of the most competitive companies in his field, but neither of those things made him too proud to accept help when he needed it.

Nor did they make him careless with someone else's generosity.

Before leaving, he turned back towards the woman.

"I'll see you next Tuesday."

"You'd better! And next time, take the bus. I don't want to see you coming in here looking like a frozen snowman again."

He grinned.

"I'll consider it."

"That means you won't."

"It means I'll consider it."

She pointed towards the door, laughing despite herself.

He slipped his AirPod back in, tucked the paper bag safely under his coat, and stepped out into the snow.

The cold greeted him immediately, but he was still smiling as he began the walk home.

He was hungry. His face was freezing, and he still had a great deal of money to collect before he could cover his target of this month and prepare for March.

But he was making progress.

His savings were growing, his plans were on track, and his future was taking shape exactly as he had intended.

For now, that was enough.

He didn't need a luxurious life to be happy. He needed his work, his goals, his music, and the knowledge that every small sacrifice was bringing him closer to the future he wanted.

He had no idea that, thousands of miles away, a man who possessed everything money and fame could buy was sitting in a beautiful house that felt emptier with every passing day.

Youna had spent twelve years learning how to make millions of people believe in love.

This young man had spent five years carefully building a future that had little room for unnecessary distractions.

One had mastered the art of portraying emotions he did not believe in.

The other had mastered the art of finding happiness in a life where he denied himself almost every luxury.