I’m hopelessly, unapologetically devoted to Bon Jovi and Westlife, two names that carry the soundtrack of my growing years. Their early 2000s anthems still catch me off guard, sweeping me into that golden kind of ache, the kind that only nostalgia knows how to hold. There’s something about pop in all its shimmering glory that soothes the restless corners of me, the parts that never quite sit still.

And yet, I never close my ears to the here and now. The present has its own kind of rhythm, its own magic and ENHYPEN pulses through my veins like a secret language I never knew I needed. There’s a loyalty there, the quiet kind. The kind that sings back to you when you think the world has gone silent.

I don’t belong to any one genre. I never could. I belong to songs that stir something in me to verses that make me feel seen, to melodies that make ordinary days feel cinematic. If it makes my heart skip, if it makes my soul lean in, I’m already listening. Always.