The clock on Lisa's phone blinked past 2:03 a.m. as she stepped into the apartment. The door creaked softly behind her, and the familiar warmth of home wrapped around her like a worn blanket. Her boots clicked quietly against the wooden floor, the sound oddly loud in the stillness.
She stood there for a moment, barely moving. The cold night air still clung to her skin, the wind's bite lingering in her bones. Her helmet—still damp with the mist of night—sat on the kitchen counter beside a half-empty coffee mug she had forgotten to rinse that morning.
Her mind was a storm.
Gun—Park Jong Gun. The name alone carried a strange weight now. There was something about him. Something unsettling. Something that made her feel... vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.
The apartment was silent, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. The other members of BLACKPINK were already asleep, lights dimmed and doors shut. But Lisa was used to late nights. Restless ones. Nights like these, when her thoughts refused to settle.
She made her way to her room, peeling off her jacket as she went. The soft glow of her phone screen greeted her from the bedside table—missed messages.
Jisoo: Where are you? The car's been in the garage for hours. You alright?
Jennie: It's late. Did you meet someone?
Rosé: Sis, where are you? Are you okay?
Lisa sat on the edge of the bed, her thumb hovering for a second before typing back.
Lisa: Guys, something happened today. I'll tell you in the morning. I'm really tired right now.
She let the phone fall beside her with a quiet thud.
She would tell them. Tomorrow. Right now, though, the weight of the night hung heavy in her chest. Her legs still trembled faintly from the ride—the speed, the wind, the roar of the engine still echoing in her bones.
Whatever had happened tonight—whatever Gun was—it wasn't something she could explain in just a few words. Not yet.
But tomorrow, she would try.
The next morning, BLACKPINK gathered for breakfast in their shared dorm, the sun slowly creeping through the kitchen window. The air was light, filled with the hum of conversation as they made coffee and ate toast, but something about Lisa seemed off. Her quietness wasn't like her usual self.
Jennie noticed first. She was sitting across from Lisa, her hand resting on the edge of her coffee cup, with a slight crease in her brow. "You look… tired," Jennie said, her voice gentle but knowing. "What happened last night? You didn't come home until late. Is everything okay?"
Lisa blinked a couple of times, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was always the strong one, the one who kept things together, but right now, something was off. She felt her stomach tighten as she glanced at her bandmates, unsure of how to start.
"I'm fine," Lisa replied, rubbing her temple lightly. "Just tired. I'll tell you guys like I promised."
The others exchanged glances, a soft understanding passing between them. They respected her privacy, but the tension in the room was palpable. Jennie didn't push, but she wasn't convinced.
"You sure?" Rosé asked softly, her voice tinged with concern. "We can tell something's bothering you. We're your friends, Lisa. Whatever it is, you don't have to keep it to yourself."
Lisa hesitated, the weight of the night pressing on her chest. She sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. After a beat, she decided it was time to spill it. The events had taken up enough space in her mind, and maybe, just maybe, sharing them would make it easier to process.
"I met someone last night," Lisa started, her voice distant. "A guy. His name is Gun. He runs a café—Throttle & Espresso."
"Wait, Gun?" Jisoo interrupted, her eyes lighting up. "Are you sure that's his name? That sounds unfamiliar. Is he famous?"
Lisa shook her head, a faint laugh escaping her lips. "No. Not famous. Just… a regular guy. But I think I'll remember him for a long time."
Her bandmates were quiet, watching her closely.
"You're not making any sense," Jennie said, furrowing her brow. "A guy who isn't famous? A stranger? And you're telling us you'll remember him for a long time? You're giving us way too many details, and still not enough to make sense of this."
Lisa looked up at her, her gaze intense. "Trust me, Jennie. This guy is different. I don't know how to explain it, but he doesn't care who I am. And that's what makes him stand out."
Jennie didn't speak, but she was processing what Lisa was saying. Rosé's curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, he doesn't care who you are? You're, like… the star of K-pop. Everyone knows you. Everyone wants to know you."
Lisa gave a small smile, shaking her head. "Not him. He was uninterested. He didn't even know who BLACKPINK was."
The table went silent.
"What?" Jisoo whispered, unable to believe it. "No one doesn't know BLACKPINK. Are you sure? How could someone not know the biggest girl group in the world?"
Lisa met her eyes, dead serious. "I'm telling you, this guy didn't even flinch when I said my name. He treated me like a common stranger. " She paused, looking down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting. "And the worst part? He didn't even care about K-pop. He said, and I quote, 'It's not a culture. It's a trend. People call it culture because it's popular. But it's not. Culture is something passed down through generations. It's blood, sweat, history... the way your ancestors lived, prayed, connected to the land. It's not something you can just package and sell."
The silence in the room was deafening. Each of them exchanged a look, not knowing how to respond.
Jisoo was the first to speak up. "No K-pop? Does he know anything about music? How can someone like that not know K-pop? Especially with all the global success?"
Lisa shrugged. "That's the thing. He doesn't even care. He doesn't feel it. He just knows what he knows. He even told me that K-pop isn't real culture, just a trend."
Jennie shook her head. "But that's… I don't understand. How can someone not know BLACKPINK? He must've heard of you, Lisa."
Lisa's eyes hardened slightly. "He didn't. He said I was just another person needing help."
"Wait, wait, wait," Rosé interjected, trying to make sense of everything. "Are you saying that a guy—Park Jong Gun—just treated you like… a normal person? Not a celebrity?"
Lisa nodded. "Exactly. He didn't see me as Lisa from BLACKPINK. I was just Lisa, a stranger who needed help. He didn't know who I was. Didn't care to know. He didn't want to treat me any differently. It was like I was just another person in the world."
"But..." Jennie started, still in disbelief. "You're telling me that someone, out there, doesn't know about K-pop or BLACKPINK? Who is this guy? Is he living under a rock?"
Lisa gave a small chuckle. "That's exactly what I thought. But no, he just doesn't care. He's not interested in trends or celebrity culture. He's just… himself. And he said something else that stuck with me. He said that his bike is his connection to everything. His 'culture,' if you will. He said, 'Culture is something that's woven into the fabric of life. It's the stories your grandparents tell you about how they lived, about how they fought, loved, and worked the land. It's the way people worship, the way they connect to the earth beneath their feet. It's not something you can manufacture. It's blood and bone, woven through the years like an ancient thread."
By now, Jisoo was looking at her with wide eyes, disbelief still present but mixed with curiosity. "That's deep," she muttered. "But… you still haven't told us everything, right? What about his bike? Why is he so connected to it?"
Lisa sighed. "I don't know. It's like his life is tied to it. I think he finds solace in it. I don't know how to explain it, but when he spoke about his bike… it was like he was talking about something sacred to him."
Jennie's face softened slightly. "He sounds intense. Like someone who doesn't let anyone in easily."
Lisa nodded. "Exactly. He doesn't get close to people. He doesn't need anyone. But there's something about him… I can't put my finger on it."
Rosé sipped her juice, her voice gentle but pointed. "You said you'd tell us everything in the morning, Lisa. Don't hold back now."
Lisa exhaled slowly. "Okay… you want to know what he said?"
She looked around at her members—her sisters—who sat waiting for her words. And then she began.
"When I asked him why he rides like that, why he pushes his bike so hard, he looked at the horizon and said—"
"When you hit 150 kilometers per hour," she said finally, her voice low and even just like his, "the world slows down. Time freezes. You feel weightless… like all the burdens, the memories, the screaming thoughts—they get left behind."
Jennie's hand stilled over her plate. Rosé looked stunned.
Lisa continued, her voice almost reverent.
"And sometimes, when I can't scream out my pain or rage… my bike does it for me. It roars when I can't. It rages when I break inside."
A hush fell over the table.
"Damn," Jisoo whispered.
"He meant every word," Lisa said. "He wasn't trying to impress me. He didn't care who I was. To him, I was just… a girl who asked too many questions."
A moment passed before Lisa spoke again, almost sheepishly. "He also didn't want to take a selfie with me at first. But I convinced him." She pulled out her phone and showed them the picture.
"Look," she said, showing them the image of her and Gun—her smile radiant, while his face remained stoic, his expression unreadable.
"Wow," Rosé breathed. "He's so handsome. But his face is so neutral. Like, he shows no emotion at all."
Jisoo stared at the photo. "That's a guy who's not trying to impress anyone, huh? That's wild."
Jennie took the phone, looking more closely. "He's like a mystery. So… detached from everything."
They all stared at the photo in silence for a moment, each of them processing Lisa's story in their way.