Seok Jun paused in the doorway, eyes widening as they swept across the room—Jae Vin’s family seated with Lim Rin, Eun Shin’s mother. His breath caught. For a moment, he stood frozen, the tension hitting like a wall. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he bowed stiffly.

“Oh—I didn’t realize this was… a full house,” he said, trying to mask his unease with lightness.

Seum Tae smiled, clearly misreading the situation. She tilted her head, pleasantly surprised.

“Seok Jun! My, it’s been ages since secondary school. How have you been? How’s high school?” she asked warmly.

Seok Jun scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

“School’s okay… though Eun Shin still wipes the floor with me in every subject,” he joked, trying to shift the attention—and the pressure.

The women laughed, light and practiced, but he caught the flicker of confusion behind their smiles. The sound of their laughter pierced Eun Shin’s daze. Her head turned sharply.

“Jun-oppa…” she breathed, stunned.

He straightened, slipping easily into that familiar, casual tone.

“Oh, right—my parents are here, too. They were asking about Eun Shin. They miss her a lot. Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” he asked, voice friendly, but layered with subtle urgency.

Lim Rin looked at her daughter, eyes calculating. Then she gave a cool nod.

“Alright. Tell your parents I say hello.”

Eun Shin stood and bowed slightly.

“I’ll see you all next time.”

Everyone responded with polite smiles—everyone except Jae Vin, whose eyes clung to her with something unreadable. As Eun Shin reached for Seok Jun’s arm, he gave a charming grin.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe. It was nice seeing you all again.”

The door closed behind them. The air they left behind turned cold. Lim Rin’s smile faded. Her jaw clenched. Seum Tae exchanged a glance with Jae Vin—mild, but unmistakable disappointment.

The plan had faltered.

Outside, Eun Shin trembled. Seok Jun pulled her into his arms without a word, steadying her shaking form. She gripped him tightly, her breathing shallow, eyes downcast. When she finally exhaled—a jagged breath—it was as if she’d been holding it for hours. She buried her face into his chest.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

Her sobs came quietly, a trickle slipping through her walls. She nodded, barely.

They walked to the car. Neither spoke during the drive to his place. She leaned against him the entire way, her fist still gripping his sleeve like a lifeline.

She stared blankly out the window, her reflection flickering in the glass. Her thoughts spiraled. Why do I keep letting this hurt me?

She knew it—had known for a while. She never liked Jae Vin. Not truly. She’d done it for her mother, because being Lim Rin’s daughter came with a price. And her mother never asked for love—only for obedience.

It had all been about the performance.

Comply. Smile. Sacrifice.

But tonight, something cracked. She couldn’t pretend anymore.

Her father would’ve supported her. He always had. If only she’d spoken up. But she hadn’t. For her mother’s sake.

And now, she wasn’t sure what hurt more—the choices she made, or the silence she kept.

But one thing was certain:

She had to fix it.

She would.

MONDAY

Eun Shin walked toward school, her steps slow, her thoughts circling back to Saturday night—and to Seok Jun. His sudden appearance, his quiet rescue, the steady way he held her when she couldn’t breathe. It was all still with her.

Up ahead, she spotted Seung Jee walking alone. Her thoughts paused, tension easing slightly. Something about his presence grounded her, however briefly. He was glancing around—eyes flicking left to right—as if memorizing every detail of the school building. She smiled faintly. Still curious about everything, she thought.

Then, with a screech of tires, a black car veered to a halt in front of Seung Jee. He startled. The back door flung open.

Jae Vin stepped out.

His blazer hung open, tie slack, the same smugness curling on his lips like it always did.

“Oh? Didn’t see you there,” Jae Vin said, voice cool, tone laced with false charm. “You okay?”

Seung Jee nodded, uncertain.

“Y-yeah… I’m fine.”

Jae Vin’s chuckle was anything but friendly.

“Eh? What was that?” he leaned in mockingly, cupping a hand to his ear. “Didn’t catch that.”

Seung Jee shrank slightly, looking down.

“I said… I’m fine.”

The car door slammed shut behind Jae Vin. His expression hardened.

“Fine, huh?” he repeated, stepping close. Too close.

Before Seung Jee could move, Jae Vin grabbed a fistful of his uniform.

“She’s mine,” he hissed. His grip tightened. “Don’t even breathe near her.”

Seung Jee flinched. He didn’t speak—just stared, wide-eyed, as if trying to calculate the safest way to disappear.

With a scoff, Jae Vin released him, smoothed his collar, and walked off like nothing had happened. The black car pulled away with a growl.

From a distance, Eun Shin had seen enough. Her fury flared.

She strode straight up to Jae Vin, caught the strap of his backpack, and yanked hard.

He stumbled back.

“What the hell—?”

He stopped when he saw who it was.

Eun Shin stood firm, eyes locked on his, her gaze blistering with restrained rage. Seung Jee hovered behind them, frozen.

“Why do you always have to act like this?” she snapped.

Jae Vin blinked, slow and unbothered.

“Like what?”

Her disgust rose to her throat.

“Like you’re king of the damn universe. Like everything belongs to you.” She took a breath. “You’re pathetic.”

His smirk faltered.

“You think just because your parents throw money at everything and people fake smiles for you, that makes you special?” she went on. “So what?”

Her voice didn’t rise, but it cut deep, each word precise.

Jae Vin said nothing.

Eun Shin’s lips curled into a cold smile.

“I need time to think about us. If you can’t learn basic human decency… go find someone who matches your ego.”

She brushed past him, shoulder bumping his, not even looking back.

Jae Vin scoffed behind her, stunned, mouth parting like he might say something—but the words didn’t come.

Seung Jee dipped his head in an apologetic bow and hurried after her, keeping his distance. Jae Vin stood rooted, watching her go, fury simmering just beneath the confusion.

The school bell rang, jolting them back into the rhythm of routine. Students packed up, chairs scraped, and chatter returned—but a quiet tension lingered around Eun Shin’s desk.

Seung Jee stood nearby, hesitant. His fingers twitched at his side, unsure whether to speak, unsure if he even had the right to. He stole glances at her, and when Eun Shin looked up, she met his eyes—not with dismissal, but with calm reassurance.

They said nothing.

But in that silence, something passed between them—unspoken, heavy. It lasted until the final bell.

As the crowd spilled from the building, Eun Shin lingered by the school gates. Seung Jee appeared moments later, slow, uncertain, scanning the grounds like he wasn’t sure if she’d stayed for him.

She had.

She took a step toward him. Students brushed past, whispering, their curiosity turning into murmurs as they noticed her unwavering gaze fixed on Seung Jee.

“Wait—what happened to Jae Vin?”

“Isn’t that the transfer student?”

“No way… did the golden couple break up?”

The rumors moved like smoke, quick and suffocating.

When Eun Shin stood just a foot in front of Seung Jee, she squared her shoulders.

“Hey,” she said.

“H-hi…” he whispered, blinking at her.

Her lips curved in a small, gentle smile.

“I’m sorry he bullied you,” she said, voice low but steady. “I’ll do better to stop it.”

He stared at her, thrown—not just by her words, but by the way she said them. Like it wasn’t just about him. Like she meant it.

“You… don’t need to do that,” he mumbled, eyes dropping.

Her smile faltered, then returned, quiet but strong.

“If no one stands up, people start to believe they deserve it. And sometimes… they break,” she said. “I won’t let that happen.”

Seung Jee didn’t move. He couldn’t. No one had ever said something like that for him before. He searched her face for a reason—why someone who clearly carried her own burdens would stop to help with his.

But Eun Shin knew why.

Her mother had taught her what cruelty looked like when it wore a pretty face. Her father had shown her what love looked like when it stayed quiet but constant. She didn’t choose kindness because life had been kind. She chose it because she remembered what it felt like when someone else chose it for her.

She turned to go.

“Eun Shin!” he called out, suddenly, breath hitching.

She stopped. Looked back.

He jogged to catch up, breathless, voice trembling but sure.

“If you ever… need someone to talk to or anything… I’m around,” he said.

She blinked, momentarily stunned. Seung Jee, who could barely lift his gaze, was offering her support.

Her smile returned slowly—but this time, it was soft, full, and grateful.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching out her hand.

He hesitated, unsure. Then looked at her face—sincere, open, kind.

“I’ve never properly introduced myself,” she said, her voice light, but the moment weighted with meaning. “I’m Park Eun Shin.”

He looked at her, really looked—like hearing her name made it all real.

“I’m Hae Seung Jee,” he said quietly, and took her hand.

They smiled at each other.

From the school entrance, Jae Vin stood frozen, watching. His jaw clenched. His eyes didn’t blink. He hated the way she smiled at Seung Jee—like that kind of warmth had never been his.

Months passed.

Jae Vin stopped going near Seung Jee. He watched from a distance instead, eyes bitter.

Eun Shin slowly became close to Seung Jee and Min Ying. Min Ying, unused to genuine kindness, found herself drawn to Eun Shin’s quiet strength. Seok Jun began noticing it too—the brightness in Eun Shin’s face when she laughed with them—and eventually drifted away from his old crowd and toward theirs.

Jae Vin didn’t like it, but he knew better than to touch Seung Jee himself. If he laid a finger on him, Eun Shin would walk away for good. So instead, he whispered behind her back, pulling strings in the dark.

One month before the end of the school year—

Taek Il caught sight of Eun Shin and Seung Jee laughing together and smirked. He walked straight toward them. He slammed his shoulder into Seung Jee. Hard. Seung Jee stumbled and hit the ground. Eun Shin turned, furious.

“You must be blind to walk that rough,” she snapped.

Taek Il chuckled mockingly.

“What? I didn’t see you two.”

Eun Shin scoffed.

“Then go get your eyes checked. While you’re at it, get your brain looked at too.”

Taek Il froze, surprised by the venom in her words. He hadn’t expected her to talk back like that.

“What, you think I’m supposed to act all scared just because you’re some rich boy?”

“You—”

“Back off.”

Seok Jun stepped in between them, face unreadable, but spoke firmly and authoritatively. He glared at Taek Il. Seung Jee got up quietly, brushing the dirt from his clothes. Eun Shin helped him, her hands steady.

“She’s got a boyfriend, you know,” Taek Il sneered. “Why be friends with a slut like her?”

Eun Shin laughed—a sharp, mocking sound.

“At least he’s a real friend. Not a coward hiding behind daddy’s money.”

Taek Il’s face twisted as he tried to step forward with a hand.

“I said back off,” Seok Jun repeated, eyes locked on him. Taek Il met his stare… and understood. If he tried to fight Seok Jun just to prove a point, he’d lose. Badly. So he straightened his shoulders and scoffed.

“Stop sticking your nose into other people’s business,” he muttered before turning and walking away. Eun Shin kept her glare on him until he was gone, then turned quickly to Seung Jee.

“You okay?” she asked softly. Seung Jee nodded, still a little shaken.

“I’m fine…”

Seok Jun let out a frustrated sigh.

“That guy’s a prick. Stay away from him if you can. He’s Jae Vin’s favorite lapdog.”

Seung Jee nodded more than once—clearly understanding this wasn’t just a complaint. It was a warning.