Kei had stopped expecting surprises in his life. Then came a DM, from a k-pop idol, no less.

HIs gallery itself was a destination for art connoisseurs-a place of sleek lines, ambient lighting, and carefully curated expensive pieces. The studio, in contrast, was a raw, serene space where Kei's creativity once flourished freely. When not interrupted by his publicist, Kei spent evenings in there, just clay, glaze, and the quiet hum of the kiln. But lately, the work felt... hollow. As if all the praise and commissions had dulled his hands.

That night, a bored Kei absently scrolled through his social media channel notifications, a blue checkmark randomly caught his eye. His account wasn't just large-it was massive, with collectors, art critics, and supporters worldwide following his every move and creation. The message was from someone named @sungie_sings, and it read:

"Hey! I saw the video of you making a teapot last week. It was amazing! Your teapot is so cool how it looks zen, so simple, clean but elegant. Like... if a melody was a teapot, this would be a soft and melancholic love song. Haha. Do you sell your work?"

Nobody had ever compared his teapots to a song. Kei re-read the message twice, then once more, like a forgotten lyric he was trying to remember. Nobody had ever compared his work to a melody before.. It was an unexpected compliment that made him pause, as if Sung had seen something in his craft that even Kei himself had forgotten.

Sung's name didn't ring a bell. A quick look at Sung's profile revealed a polished feed of glossy posed photos, stage performances, and screaming fans. It was obvious he was some kind of celebrity in a K-pop boy band, but Kei's knowledge of the K-pop world was almost nonexistent. Why would Lee Sungjin, someone with such a huge fanbase and skyrocketing music career care about teapots? Why would he message using his official channel? Kei was so bored with his own life that he couldn't help being curious and replied Sung.

"Thanks for the kind words. Yes, I sell my work, but only on custom orders. If not, you will have to wait for my next show."

The reply came within minutes, almost as if Sung had been waiting.

"Totally! The price is not an issue. I actually want to make a vase for my bandmate and housemate's birthday. He is into collecting art recently, and I thought something customized for him to display at our dormitory would be great. Also, do you do lessons? I've never touched clay before, but I'd love to try. Lol."

Kei hesitated before responding, his finger hovering over the screen. He really did not need another commission at this point in time to make himself busier. He never does personal classes either for he hated such interactions. But somehow, he sensed that this new project could be the spark he needed.

"A handmade gift sounds thoughtful. If you're serious, we can look at scheduling something."

And just like that, the world of ceramics collided with the world of pop stardom.

---

The lesson was set for the following week. Kei was regretting his impulsive decision even before Sung arrived. He stood in his studio, dressed in his usual attire: a simple black linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves, paired with clay splattered jeans and old sneakers. His clothing always practical as it was understated. The decision to interact with this young man so high-profile seemed like a bad one now. His publicity team, ever cautious about his image, would surely disapprove of the potential implications. But deep down, Kei knew that he was looking for an outlet before he bored himself out of his mind.

Sung stepped into the studio like a misplaced spotlight—his presence too vibrant, too real against the dim clay-streaked calm. He was dressed down in a mask, baseball cap covering his blonde mullet, and wearing an oversized black hoodie. He was immediately struck by the stark contrast between the sleek, industrial high-end gallery and the cozy, minimalist studio behind it. Sung's eyes lit up as he took in every detail of the place.

"Wow," Sung breathed. "It's like stepping into another world."

Kei managed a small polite smile. "Welcome! I am Kei. Let's get started. I'll show you how to throw clay on the wheel."

As Sung in work apron fumbled with the clay, his cute laughter filled the studio. The mess, the uneven shapes, the failed attempts-it all reminded Kei of why he had fallen in love with this craft in the first place. Sung's enthusiasm was infectious, he was also focused and intent on his task. His energy a stark contrast to the monotony Kei had been feeling.

"This is hard! How do you make it look so easy?" Sung asked, his hands covered in clay.

"Try doing it for a decade," Kei replied, with a small smile, moving a strand of hair covering Sung's vision. "But you're doing alright, better than most beginners."

"Liar," Sung teased, grinning. "But thanks."

By the time he had to leave, Sung managed to create a lopsided teapot base that he proudly dubbed "abstract art." Kei's steady guidance and quiet humor made the process enjoyable, and Sung found himself basking in the moment. Sung did not have time on his schedule to finish his teapot and the proposal was for Kei to complete the work that was a gift for Finnian, Sung's bandmate and housemate.

As they cleaned up, Sung glanced at Kei and said, "You know, I think I get it now. Art and music have their similarities. It's like... therapy for the soul, yet torture for the soul. A struggle and a joyful process at the same time."

Kei's lips curved into a faint smile. It was amusing hearing this youthful voice spouting such philosophical words. For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of enthusiasm. His reply was more understated. "Sounds like you really felt for the process today."

Before leaving, Sung hesitated at the gallery entrance, his gaze lingering on the art around him and then shifting back to look into Kei's eyes with honest affection. "Thanks for the session today, Kei. I'm pretty sure my member's teapot is going to be... unique. Haha. But he'll love it."

"It'll have your touch," Kei said. "That makes it extra special."

Sung paused for a moment, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, I'd love to come back. Maybe learn more too if you're up for it?"

Kei didn’t say no. Not when Sung smiled that smile again, not when the door clicked shut. The studio felt different somehow.

More alive.