Ivy’s corner

He’s sitting outside the convenience store with a bowl of ramen in front of him, one arm lazily resting on the table.

Then he notices you.

A grin immediately spreads across his face as he lifts his hand and waves you over.

You hate how normal he looks.

Like yesterday didn’t exist.

Great.

You sigh quietly and cross the road anyway, making your way toward him.

“I saw you trying to avoid me,” he says, clearly entertained.

“You should probably get your eyesight checked,” you shoot back. “It’s getting seriously bad.”

He laughs.

You can’t tell if he’s laughing at you or genuinely amused, but either way, it makes something flutter in your chest.

It shouldn’t.

“So,” he says before taking another bite of noodles, “are you gonna keep standing there, or are you actually getting food?”

“I’m just grabbing something.”

“Oh, come on.” He gestures to the seat across from him with his chopsticks. “Sit with me.”

You roll your eyes at him, annoyed at yourself more than anything, and walk into the store

Cold air brushes against your skin as the automatic doors slide shut behind you.

Rows of snacks and drinks stretch across the store, but you barely know what you’re looking for anymore. You pull out your wallet and quietly check the money you have left.

Just enough for a cup of ramen. Off-brand, obviously.

You grab one from the shelf before making your way to the register, paying quickly without looking up too much. After that, you head to the small counter near the microwaves to prepare it, taking your time on purpose.

Anything to avoid thinking about the fact that Seongje is still waiting right outside.

Your ramen is finally ready, and at this point, there’s not much else you can do to stall.

If you stay any longer, you’ll just start looking suspicious.

So, with a quiet sigh, you accept your fate and step out of the store.

The second the doors slide open, your eyes immediately land on him.

Seongje glances up from his phone when he sees you, a small grin on his face.

“Yeah, don’t get all worked up. I just didn’t have food at home, I had to buy something.”

“And yet you’re sitting with me,” he says, teasing you.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes again as you sit across from him, carefully avoiding looking at him for too long.

His eyes drop to the cup in your hands.

“That one’s terrible.”

“Thanks. I already bought it.”

“You should’ve asked me first.”

“Why would I ask you about ramen?”

Seongje shrugs lazily. “I’m basically an expert.”

You stare at him.

“That might be the saddest thing you’ve ever said.”

He laughs again, and you find yourself smiling too.

You open the lid of your cup, pretending to focus on mixing the noodles when he says, after a moment,

“You were really trying to avoid me earlier, though.”

“Oh my God, you’re still on that? Forget it.”

“But I’m right.”

“No.”

“I am.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says with a look.

You take a bite of your noodles, and both of you stay in silence for a moment.

You can feel his eyes on you as you slurp the noodles, but you don’t have the courage to look at him right now.

Cars pass occasionally on the road nearby, headlights flashing across the convenience store windows. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s music plays.

“Why did you skip today?” you say eventually.

“I was busy,” he says, his tone colder now, avoiding your gaze.

You nod, like that answer is enough.

You try to move on, but you can’t help but ask again.

“Busy doing what?”

A faint smile tugs at his lips.

“Why?” he replies instead. “Did you miss me or something?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you say as you go back to eating.

He laughs now, his eyes disappearing slightly.

“Woah, calm down. I was joking.”

“I don’t care, actually,” you say flatly, finishing the last of your food. “I’m done eating. I should head back home now, it’s getting late.”

“Hey,” he says softly, grabbing your arm for a second before letting go when he realizes.

You look at him, trying to understand what he meant by that.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“Don’t start acting all bold now. Come on, we were having fun.”

“Fun? We’re at a convenience store, Seongje,” you say, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, so? I’m all the fun you need.”

“Ew. Just shut up,” you say, annoyed.

Liar.

As you were about to speak again, you notice a faint blue color on his knuckles.

So it’s true.

Your eyes linger a second too long, and he notices.

Seongje shifts his arms under the table, hiding his hands from view.

You don’t dare ask him what happened. You already know. And even if you did, he would deny it.

“We should go,” he says suddenly, pushing himself up from the seat.

“Weren’t you the one who said we should stay?” you ask, confused.

“Yeah, well I changed my mind.”

“I-”

“Come on,” he cuts you off, already gathering everything on the table and tossing it away before you can even react.

You try to help, but he’s faster.

You grab your bag, sliding it over your shoulder as he finishes.

“Don’t forget your phone,” he says, holding it out to you.

You take it, fingers brushing his for a second too long.

You feel it immediately and look away before it can register properly.

Something about it sits wrong in your chest.

You both walk down the three small steps outside the store and start along the side of the road.

His hands are back in his pockets, posture casual again, like nothing happened.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says.

“No, it’s okay, I- ”

“God, you’re so stubborn,” he cuts in immediately. “I said I’m walking you home. The end.”

You blink at him.

“Okay, dude. Don’t get mad,” you say, slightly stunned.

Both of you keep walking in silence.

The street is quieter now, the convenience store already fading behind you, its neon glow shrinking in the distance.

Neither of you speaks at first.

You steal a quick glance at Seongje. Still the same expression. Not showing anything.

“Do you always walk people home?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“No,” he says. “Just you.”

You scoff immediately. “That’s creepy.”

“You asked.”

You don’t reply to that.

Instead, you look forward again, focusing on the empty road ahead.

After a few seconds, you can’t help but say,

“Your hand…”

“What about it?”

You hesitate, then immediately regret starting.

“Nothing,” you say.

Seongje hums like he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it.

You keep walking, but your eyes drift again toward his hand. He notices.

You look away quickly.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“It’s nothing,” he says quietly.

You don’t answer.

The walk falls back into silence.

Seongje adjusts his pace slightly, staying beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way,” you say.

“I know,” he replies. “Just keep walking.”

So you do.

Until suddenly, you’re in front of your apartment.

Both of you stop.

He looks at you for a second, hands still in his pockets.

“Well,” he says, “goodnight, I guess.”

You hesitate.

Then

“Do you want to come in?”

Silence.

Your brain catches up a second too late.

What did I just say?

You already feel your face heating up.

He looks at you with disbelief, but tries to hide it.

“That’s a new one.”

“What?”

“I didn’t expect you to say that, honestly.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” he cuts in, smiling slightly. “Relax.”

There’s a beat where neither of you moves.

Then Seongje exhales lightly, like he’s made a decision without making it a big deal.

“I’ll come in,” he says.

Your brain takes a second to catch up.

“Oh.”

It comes out much smaller than you meant it to.

He glances at you.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” you answer quickly.

He steps closer to the door as you unlock it, hands still in his pockets, posture relaxed, but there’s nothing careless about it anymore.

You push the door open.

You kick off your shoes a little too quickly, trying to pretend this is normal.

It isn’t.

Seongje stays near the entrance for a second, glancing around briefly before looking back at you.

“Nice place,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply automatically.

Then the silence comes back again. You notice he doesn’t sit or move, just stands there.

“You can sit,” you say.

“I know,” he replies, sitting down.

You walk to the kitchen just to do something, grabbing a glass and filling it with water even though you’re not really thirsty.

Your hands feel slightly too aware of themselves.

You take a sip anyway.

Behind you, Seongje shifts slightly.

“You’re thinking too much,” he says.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he repeats, calmer this time.

You can feel him watching you without turning around.

That alone makes your chest tighten.

Then suddenly

“I know what happened, you know.”

He freezes slightly at your sudden voice.

“What?”

Seongje is leaning back against the chair now, but the relaxed posture from earlier is gone.

“I heard people talking about it.”

“Talking about what exactly?” he says, his tone colder.

“At school,” you say quietly. “About what happened with those guys.”

His expression barely changes. He already knows exactly which guys you mean.

“People talk too much,” he says eventually.

“Why would you even do that?” you say, turning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer immediately. A faint exhale leaves him through his nose, almost irritated.

“They crossed a line.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Seongje doesn’t react right away. He just watches you, like he’s deciding how much of the truth you’re allowed to have.

“It is,” he says finally, getting up and walking toward you.

Now he’s facing you fully, barely any space left between you.

Your breath catches slightly before you can stop it. He’s looking at you differently. Not softer. Not harsher either. Just focused.

“Why do you care so much?” he asks quietly.

That makes you blink.

“I don’t,” you say too fast.

He doesn’t believe you, you can tell.

His gaze drops for a second, briefly, before returning to your face.

“You’re lying,” he says simply. “And that’s all you need to know. I’m not talking about this anymore.”

You don’t answer immediately.

You were ready for more words, but there’s nothing.

Like the conversation has already ended in his head, even if yours is still catching up.

You open your mouth slightly, then stop.

Because whatever you were going to say doesn’t feel solid anymore.

“What were you going to say?” he asks.

“Nothing. You said you’re not talking about this anymore,” you reply, irritated, almost embarrassed.

You don’t wait for his response. You move past him, leaving the kitchen and stepping into the living room.

A second later, you hear him follow.

And something in you tightens because of it.

Because it’s always like this, him never fully explaining, never fully saying anything that actually makes sense to you. Just enough to shut things down. Just enough to stay in control.

You hate that it gets to you this easily.

Tears start to form in your eyes before you can stop them. You tilt your head slightly, quickly, like it might push it back down before it shows.

Like he won’t notice.

“Hey” he says, awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” you say sharply.

“I didn’t mea-”

“Yeah, I know,” you cut him off. “You never mean to.”

A beat.

“Where is this going?” he asks.

He doesn’t get an answer right away.

Your mouth opens slightly, then closes again.

Because you don’t actually know.

Then Seongje exhales softly, like he’s given up trying to read you from a distance.

A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even notice it at first.

And before you can lift your hand to wipe it away, his hand is already there.

He brushes it off your skin with his thumb careful, almost hesitant, like he didn’t fully think before doing it.

You shiver at the touch and he notices immediately.

His hand pulls back instantly, awkward and unsure.

“Sorry,” he says quietly.

The word lands differently than you expect.

That alone is enough for the tightness in your chest to loosen slightly, not gone, just unsettled in a different way now.

He never says that.

You look away first.

Your body hasn’t decided what emotion it’s supposed to stay in.

He shifts slightly, like he’s about to step back properly this time.

“Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t know,” you say, dropping your head.

Then you feel him move closer again, not sudden, not confident. More like a decision he’s making as he goes.

His hand hesitates in the air for a second before gently brushing through the side of your hair, slow and careful. Not forcing anything. Just there, like he’s testing whether you’ll push him away.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, quieter this time.

That does it.

Your shoulders loosen slightly, like something you’ve been holding up for too long finally stops resisting.

You don’t even realize you’re moving until you are.

Your head tilts forward just enough to rest against his chest.

His hand stills immediately.

For a second, he doesn’t react at all, like he’s afraid that if he moves, you’ll disappear or change your mind.

Then his hand settles on the back of your head, gently, almost cautiously at first, before steadying.

“Hey,” he says again, softly.

“You’re an asshole, you know that,” you say against him.

He lets out a small, uneven breath, almost a laugh, but not really.

“Yeah,” he says quieter. “Probably.”

Neither of you moves right away.

His hand is still in your hair, like he hasn’t fully decided to let go yet.

“I should go,” he says, but he doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You’re tired.”

You try to hide the disappointment as you slowly lift your head from his chest.

Your hair falls forward, partly covering your face.

Before you can fix it, he reaches out, brushing it gently to the side, careful, almost absent minded, like it’s instinct rather than thought.

“Yeah, okay,” you say in a whisper.

He drops his hand and looks at you for a last moment before heading to the door.

“Text me when you get home,” you say, voice light again, slipping back into sarcasm. “You know, in case you get kidnapped.”

“I’ll do that,” he says with a small smile, before closing the door.

She was wrapped tightly in a pale pink hospital blanket, her face scrunched up in sleepy irritation against her mother’s chest. Beside the hospital bed sat Su-gang’s mother holding her own son, who was barely old enough to support his head properly. Their fathers stood proudly behind them in expensive suits, already joking about future family mergers and lifelong friendship while the exhausted mothers rolled their eyes.

That was the first picture they ever took together. Two babies too young to understand anything. And somehow, neither of them ever really left the other’s side after that.

There were hundreds of photographs afterward. In every birthday party picture, he appeared somewhere nearby like he naturally belonged there.

One photograph from her fourth birthday showed her sitting in front of a massive cake, cheeks sticky with frosting while she cried dramatically because another child grabbed one of her gifts before she could open it. In the background, tiny Su-gang, equally small, equally spoiled, looked absolutely furious on her behalf. Seconds after the photo was taken, he apparently bit the other child hard enough to make him cry too.

Their mothers still laughed about that incident.

At age five came the kindergarten field trip photograph. The teachers dressed all the children in matching yellow hats and tiny backpacks before lining them beneath rows of cherry blossom trees. Every child smiled brightly toward the camera except her and Su-gang.

She stood with her arms crossed, already impatient and irritated by the heat and beside her, Su-gang wore the exact same expression. Even as children, they looked less like innocent classmates and more like two tiny aristocrats deeply offended by public inconvenience. The teachers used to joke that the two of them were either soulmates or future dictators.

Elementary school brought sports festivals, piano recitals, award ceremonies, and endless pictures their parents insisted on framing. One sports day photograph showed her standing proudly on the first-place podium with a gold medal around her neck while Su-gang stood beside her on second place looking personally betrayed by the results. Other children grinned happily for the camera, but he stared only at her with narrowed eyes while she smirked victoriously back at him.

Another picture from the same day captured the exact moment he grabbed her arm after she nearly fainted from exhaustion behind the gymnasium. She looked angry about being manhandled. He looked angrier that she had scared him in the first place.

Neither of them smiled.

That became a pattern over the years.

Middle school was where things changed.

There was one particular excellence award ceremony photograph she hated looking at. Both of them stood at the front of the auditorium wearing dark school uniforms while holding academic certificates beneath hard camera flashes. On the surface, the pictured looked ordinary, two elite students from wealthy families receiving recognition.

But she remembered that day too clearly. To this days she blames the stupid thing called ‘puberty’ which had ruined her life. Until then, Han Su-Gang had simply been… Su-Gang. Her childhood friend, her constant rival, the boy who fought with her over everything. And then suddenly, one day, he wasn’t just that anymore.

In the photograph, his tie sat slightly loose beneath his collar, dark hair falling over sharp eyes as he stared indifferently toward the cameras. His shoulders had broadened that year. His voice had deepened unexpectedly. Even his face had changed, softer childhood features replaced with something colder, sharper, unfairly attractive.

Meanwhile she stood beside him looking perfectly calm in the picture. No one could tell that earlier that day she had locked herself inside a bathroom stall because her heart started racing after he casually leaned across her desk to borrow a pen.

That was around the time she began lying.

To everyone.

Especially herself.

By high school, their graduation pictures looked less like memories between friends and more like evidence that something went downhill. In every group photo, they somehow ended up standing far apart. Not intentionally but it just happened naturally.

If she was surrounded by her friends near the front, Su-gang would be somewhere in the back with his own crowd. If he stood near the center, she would drift toward the opposite side without even noticing it. Yet somehow, despite the distance, they always remained aware of where the other was.

It was instinct at that point.

If she won an award, Su-gang looked irritated for the rest of the day. If he appeared on stage beside another girl, her mood noticeably worsened afterward.

Neither of them thought much about it. That was simply how things had always been between them.

Both of them had their first relationships. Awkward dates hidden from news. Public breakups their parents pretended not to notice. People came and went through their lives naturally, the way relationships usually did at that age.

Han Su-gang dated beautiful girls.

She dated successful men.

And because life moved forward whether people were ready or not, the two of them slowly stopped orbiting each other constantly. At least, that was what it looked like from the outside.

By university, articles had already started comparing them publicly.

The perfect heirs.

The young successors.

Future corporate rivals.

Their convocation photographs barely looked like graduation pictures anymore. Tailored black suits. Controlled smiles. Luxury watches glinting beneath stage lights. Two future monsters of the business world standing side by side while pretending complete indifference toward each other.

---

The chauffeur opened the door for her immediately. Cool evening air brushed against her skin as she stepped out of the black sedan, the sharp heel of her show striking against the pavement with a clean, expensive click. Above her, golden lights spilled from the towering glass exterior of the restaurant, warm against the darkening skyline.

She adjusted the sleeve of her coat. Her phone screen glowed briefly in her hand.

7:47 PM.

Three missed calls from her father. Two unread emails marked urgent. One message from her boyfriend.

I’m already here.

She slipped the phone back into her bag. Normally, he would have complained first about her being late, about her prioritizing work, about how difficult it was to schedule time with her lately. But tonight, the message was unusually short. No emoji either. And that along irritated her slightly.

The hostess greeted her immediately the moment she stepped inside. “Good evening, Ms. Y/N. Your reservation party is waiting upstairs.”

Of course they recognized her. Places like this always did.

Her heels echoed softly against dark marble as she walked toward the private section.

And then she saw him. Her boyfriend sat near the window, posture stiff, both hands wrapped tightly around a glass of water he clearly had not touched. Even from a distance, something about him looked… nervous.

She slowed slightly. That was unusual too. He noticed her approaching and immediately stood from his seat. The movement almost knocked against the table.

“Hey,” he said with a strained smile.

She gave a small nod as she sat across from him. “You sounded serious on the phone.”

“I…” He swallowed. “Yeah.”

A waiter appeared almost instantly to pour her water, placing down a menu she barely glanced at before dismissing him with a polite gesture.

Silence settled across the table afterward. She leaned back slightly in her chair, studying him carefully beneath the low lighting. His tie was crooked. He kept flexing his against the glass. Avoiding eye contact with her.

For a brief moment, she wondered if he was going propose, but that thought was so absurd that she nearly laughed. “So,” she said. “What exactly was important enough to drag me across the city during quarter-end reporting season?”

He looked like he wanted to throw himself into the river outside. “I think…” he started weakly before stopping. But she waited patiently. She was good at waiting. Years of business meetings had perfected that skill.

Eventually, he exhaled sharply. “I think we should break up.”

For a moment, she simply stared at him. Not because she was heartbroken. Oddly enough, she wasn’t. But because the situation itself felt almost offensive. She had rearranged three meetings for this.

Her pride stung a little due to the fact that this the the first time she was getting broken up with. Usually it would be her breaking up with her partners. But she avoiding thinking much about it.

Until.

“I met someone else,” he admitted. “and…” he took out a card. No. An invitation. A wedding invitation. “We are getting married.”

Oh boy. He had done it. For a full three seconds, she simply stared at the cream-colored envelope resting neatly against the table between them. Something cold and dangerous settled quietly beneath her ribs.

Humiliation.

Her hands reached out to the envelope, as she opened it to see who he was marrying and the name that she read almost made her lose her mind even more. It was the girl that Han Su-gang was currently dating.

Her gaze lifted from the invitation to him, “What kind of stunt are you pulling here?”

His expression tightened instantly. “It’s not a stunt.”

She let out a short laugh under her breath. It was taking everything in her to not smash the glass on his head. “You cheated on me,” she said calmly, tapping one manicured nail lightly against the wedding invitation, “with Han Su-gang’s girlfriend.”

“Now… Ex-girlfriend,” he corrected nervously.

Her eyes glared toward him. The poor man visibly regretted speaking.

So this was what being publicly humiliated felt like. The daughter of one of the largest conglomerates in the country had just been dumped for another woman like some ordinary girlfriend in a melodrama. Worse, the woman in the question was Han Su-gang.

Out of every person in this city.

Something ugly twisted inside her chest at the thought of him eventually hearing about this.

No.

Not eventually.

He probably already knew.

“How dare you even invite me?!” Her voice raised. “You attending would make the stocks go up.” he admitted defensively. She couldn’t even believe her ears anymore. She could throw him out of the window if she could. She had given him her time when she could. Introduced him publicly. Attended his events. Remembered his schedule. Bought him gifts. Allowed him into spaces of her life most people never entered.

Was that not enough?

“You know what the funniest part is?” she asked lightly.

He said nothing.

“You could’ve cheated with literally anyone else.” Her smile widened slightly. “And somehow you chose Han Su-gang’s girlfriend.”

“That wasn’t intentional.”

“You think that bitch is better than me?”

His shoulders stiffened.

Honestly, it almost felt comedic. The sheer audacity. Then suddenly her phone vibrated violently against the table. Both of them glanced down automatically. The screen lit up with a single name.

Han Su-gang.

She stared at the screen for one second. Then answered. “What.”

No greeting. No softness. Just immediate aggression. Across from her, her ex-boyfriend visibly paled. Han Su-gang’s voice came through the phone low and sharp. “Where are you.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “At dinner.”

A pause and then, “With your cheating boyfriend?”

She went silent. He knew. And the most surprising fact was how her ex-boyfriend sitting in one piece right now. This whole situation might have been humiliating for him as well right? And given his personality, he would’ve done something.

And before anything.

He should’ve told her if he knew to save her from getting humiliated like this.

---

The television mounted across the office wall played quietly in the background, its volume low enough to sound almost polite despite the damage it was doing. She sat behind her desk with one leg crossed over the other, staring blankly at the screen while slowly stirring melting ice through a glass of whiskey she had not touched yet.

Three days. It had been exactly three days since the restaurant. The situation had only become worse afterward. Because the media found out about the wedding.

Onscreen, the news anchor spoke with carefully disguised excitement.

“unexpected relationship development between the heirs of the Seo and Park families has become one of the most discussed topics online this week…”

Pictures flashed across the screen.

Her ex-boyfriend smiling beside Su-gang’s ex-girlfriend at some charity event months ago.

Another photograph.

Then another.

Then-

A split-screen image of her and Su-gang appearing at separate business events wearing identical cold expressions beneath camera flashes.

Underneath it, bold headlines scrolled endlessly.

CORPORATE POWER COUPLES COLLAPSE. CHEATING SCANDAL INVOLVING TWO HEIRS. NETIZENS CALL SITUATION “KARMA”

Her jaw tightened slightly. From the couch across the room, Su-gang let out a humorless scoff. Unlike her, he looked completely untouched by the scandal externally.

He had the perfect suit, perfect posture, perfect composure. But she had known him long enough to notice the signs immediately. The cigarette burning untouched between his fingers. The slight tension near his jaw. And the dangerous stillness. He only became that quiet when he was furious enough to ruin someone’s life.

“The media is enjoying this too much,” she muttered.

The television continued mercilessly.

“Online reactions have been especially intense due to the unusual circumstances of the scandal, with many netizens joking that the former couple ‘swapped partners.’”

She reached for the remote.

Too late.

The screen suddenly shifted toward scrolling social media comments.

Maybe the exes deserved it LOL

Han Su-gang finally lost at something

Y/N got dumped for another woman I KNOW her ego is in hell right now

This is actually hilarious

Maybe they should date each other instead since nobody else wants them

It’s so funny how everyone supports this cheating scandal 😭

Silence. A very dangerous silence. She slowly cleaned the remote hard enough that it would break. Across the room, Han Su-gang exhaled smoke toward the ceiling with frightening calm.

The office suddenly felt several degrees colder.

“I want these people dead,” she said finally.

Su-gang nodded once. “Reasonable.”

Another comment appeared onscreen.

Their exes probably bonded over surviving toxic relationships 💀

That one did it. She grabbed the remote and muted the television violently. The sudden silence rang through the office. For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Then Su-gang finally looked toward her properly for the first time since arriving.

“You know what irritates me the most?”

She leaned back slowly in her chair. “There are several options. Be specific.”

His eyes narrowed slightly toward the muted television screen. “That man.”

Her brows lifted. “My ex?”

“He walked into your life looking like a rejected actor from a toothpaste commercial,” Han Su-gang said coldly, “dated you for two years, cheated on you, publicly humiliated you, and somehow still thinks he’ll survive this city.”

She stared at him. There it was again. That strange thing he did sometimes. The excessive hostility. Honestly, Su-gang had always reacted too aggressively toward the men she dated but she had stopped questioning it years ago.

Probably territorial rivalry nonsense.

Or ego.

With him, it was always ego.

“You’re one to talk,” she said dryly. “What did you even see in her? She isn’t even that pretty.”

For a brief moment, the atmosphere inside the office shifted into something sharp and familiar.

This.

This was normal.

They never said any good things about eachother’s past partners. This constant hostility between them had always been far more natural.

Su-gang leaned forward slowly on the couch, forearms resting against his knees as he stared at her. “You realize everyone thinks this is funny.”

“I noticed.”

“They think we lost.”

That made her eyes narrow slightly. Because there it was. The real problem. Not the cheating. Not the breakups. Losing. Humiliation. Public embarrassment. Their exes had not merely betrayed them. They had made them look ridiculous.

And in families like theirs, reputation was worth more than love ever would be.

She finally picked up her whiskey glass and took a slow sip. Then she asked calmly, “So.”

Su-gang tilted his head slightly.

“What do you want to do about it?”

---

Even later, neither of them could properly explain how everything escalated this badly. One moment they had been fighting. The next, she was sitting on his lap inside the jacuzzi of his suite, steam curling thickly into the cold midnight air while dark ocean waves crashed somewhere beyond the balcony.

Her chest pressed against his. His hands rested tightly on her waist beneath the water, grip growing harsher each time she shifted against him. And somehow, despite the heat surrounding them, Su-gang still looked furious.

“what did you just say?” he repeated sharply.

She swallowed once. “I said I liked you since middle school.”

The water shifted as Su-gang suddenly straightened beneath her, one hand tightening instinctively against her waist. “Why,” he asked quietly, “am I only hearing this now?”

She looked away briefly. “Because every time I looked at you, you were dating someone else.”

A humorless laugh escaped him at that. His grip on her waist tightened again. “And whose fault was that?” he muttered. “You kept showing up with different men every year acting like you actually liked them.”

“You dated people too.”

“Because you did first.”

The answer stunned her into silence. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The warm water moved softly around them while the cruise ship drifted through the dark ocean.

Then Su-gang looked at her again, jaw tightening slightly. “You have any idea how many times I wanted to drag you away from those idiots?” he asked quietly. “Watching them touch you like they belonged near you used to drive me insane.”

Her heartbeat stumbled violently. Because Han Su-gang had always looked jealous around her boyfriends. She just never realized it was actual jealousy.

“And you think I enjoyed your girlfriends?” she snapped back. “That woman practically hung off your arm every event.”

“She annoyed you that much?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The question landed directly between them.

She opened her mouth but then stopped. Because the answer was suddenly obvious and all her life she tried her best to not be obvious about her feelings. Su-gang stared at her for one long second before laughing softly under his breath, like he had finally understood something devastating.

“We really wasted years being idiots.”

The words settled heavily between them.

And somehow, what was originally supposed to be a petty revenge appearance at their exes’ wedding cruise had turned into this instead, years of jealousy finally rotting through both of them at the exact same time. And neither of them knew how to stop it anymore.

Three days earlier.

The original plan has been simple. Humiliate their exes. That was it. Nothing emotional, nothing complicated. Just mutual destruction fueled by wounded pride. Su-gang and she had accepted the invitation to the joint bachelor-bachelorette cruise trip fully intending to make the show about themselves.

It was their exes greed that led them to sending invitations. Every high society face that would’ve appeared at the trip would’ve benefited their stocks and yeah, both Su-gang and her were petty enough to show up and turn the tables.

Stocks would benefit.

But not Seo’s and Park’s.

It would be theirs.

By the end of the first night, nobody was talking about the bride and groom anymore. The internet cared only about them because photographs of Su-gang stepping beside her at the harbor spread across social media so quickly that several business accounts began speculating about a corporate engagement before midnight.

Stocks actually moved.

And she nearly cried laughing when she saw that. “I love this!” She cheered while dancing around in the room, as Su-gang looked at her with a small curve on his lips while sipping wine from the couch.

Things only escalated afterward. At breakfast the next morning, they sat beside each other purely because they knew even if media isn’t allowed on the cruise, the other rich brats attending will be quick to gossip and send over the information on the land.

The second night onboard featured what the organizers dramatically called a “unity ballroom event.”

The ballroom glittered beneath enormous crystal chandeliers while ocean waves crashed softly beyond the massive glass windows. Couples moved elegantly across the dance floor dressed in formal black and gold, conversations blending together beneath classical music and low laughter.

She nearly burst out laughing the moment she realized the event included partner-switch dancing.

“This is so sick,” she muttered into her champagne glass.

Beside her, Su-gang looked deeply entertained. “Your ex looks like he’s about to start crying.”

Good.

Across the ballroom, the bride and groom already looked tense. Which honestly made sense considering the internet had spent the last thirty-six hours discussing Han Su-gang and her more than the actual wedding itself.

Everywhere she looked tonight, people were staring at them. Like everyone onboard could sense something unfolding in real time. The orchestra music shifted softly through the ballroom as couples moved across the floor beneath warm golden lights. Then suddenly the host announced the partner-switch portion of the evening.

And right now, everyone switched to the next partner and unfortunately, the first switch paired her with her ex.

The moment his hand settled against her waist, irritation immediately crawled up her spine. Around them, guests continued dancing politely while the orchestra played something soft and romantic enough to make her want to commit crimes.

“You need to stop this,” he said quietly.

She blinked once. “Stop what.”

“This.” His jaw tightened slightly while guiding her through another turn. “Whatever you’re doing with Han Su-gang.”

She nearly laughed in his face. “Oh?” she asked sweetly. “And what exactly am I doing?”

“You’re turning the entire trip into a spectacle.”

Her smile widened.

That was literally the point.

Across the ballroom, she caught sight of Su-gang dancing with his ex-girlfriend. Even from a distance, he looked deeply uninterested in whatever conversation she was attempting. His eyes lifted briefly.

Straight toward her.

Like instinct.

Her ex noticed immediately and his expression worsened. “Can you at least stop embarrassing us publicly?”

“Us?”

“You know what I mean.”

She almost admired the audacity honestly.

This man cheated on her publicly, hijacked months of media attention, invited her onto a wedding cruise for stock benefits and now wanted dignity.

Unbelievable.

The orchestra swelled softly around them. Then he made his fatal mistake. “Please stop ruining things for my future wife.”

She stared at him for one long second and then she laughed loudly. Several nearby guests glanced over immediately.

“What?” she asked incredulously. “I came here with my new boyfriend to attend your little party.” Her smile sharpened beautifully. “Be grateful I didn’t destroy your company instead.”

His face paled instantly.

Across the ballroom, Su-gang was suddenly looking at her openly now, something darkly amused flickering across his face like he already knew exactly what she had said.

The music changed again. Another partner switch. And then suddenly Su-gang’s hand was back around her waist. The difference felt immediate. Violent almost. Her ex had touched her carefully.

Su-gang touched her like he already belonged there.

The ballroom seemed quieter suddenly despite the orchestra continuing around them. Guests subtly slowed nearby, attention shifting toward them automatically the moment they stepped together onto the center of the floor.

She tilted her head slightly. “Your ex looked annoyed.”

“She asked if we were actually dating.”

“And?”

“I told her it was none of her business.”

She smiled faintly. “Coward.”

Su-gang’s hand tightened slightly against her waist. Then he pulled her closer. Not enough to scandalize. Enough to destroy people emotionally. The orchestra swelled dramatically around them while he guided her effortlessly across the ballroom floor. And honestly, dancing with Su-gang had always been a terrible idea because everything with him felt dangerously natural.

Too smooth.

Too practiced.

Like they’d spent their entire lives learning each other’s rhythm without realizing it. Around them, conversations had started fading again. People were watching them instead of the engaged couple.

And somewhere near the edge of the ballroom, the bride looked moments away from homicide. Unfortunately, that only encouraged her further. “Smile,” she murmured lightly.

Su-gang looked down at her. “Why.”

“I want that bitch to lose her mind.”

For the first time all evening, Han Su-gang actually laughed.

The third night onboard somehow became even more excessive than the previous two. Which honestly should have been physically impossible.

The upper deck had been transformed into an open-air luxury afterparty glowing beneath gold lights and towering floral arrangements while expensive alcohol flowed endlessly across marble bars overlooking the dark ocean. Music pulsed softly through hidden speakers while wealthy heirs, celebrities, investors and socialites drifted through conversations worth more money than most people would see in their entire lives.

And at the center of all of it-

Han Su-gang and she were having the time of their lives.

That was the worst part.

Because none of this felt forced anymore.

Originally, the revenge plan had simply been to ruin the spotlight for their exes. But somewhere along the way, they had started genuinely enjoying themselves.

Enjoying each other.

She hadn’t laughed this much in years.

Champagne blurred pleasantly through her system while Su-gang stood beside her with one hand resting lazily against her lower back, both of them openly entertaining groups of investors who now seemed far more interested in them than the actual engaged couple hosting the trip.

Everywhere she looked tonight, people were smiling at them.

Watching them.

Drawn toward them.

Meanwhile the bride looked progressively closer to psychological collapse.

Honestly, she almost felt bad.

Almost.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Su-gang murmured beside her while handing her another champagne glass.

The internet had apparently exploded again after leaked photographs from the ballroom dance spread online. Their names were trending. Investors were speculating. Gossip accounts were practically foaming at the mouth.

Even onboard, guests had started treating them differently.

Unfortunately, the bride noticed that too.

And after three straight days of watching her own wedding events become completely overshadowed by the people she cheated on, she finally snapped.

She was midway through a conversation with an older CEO when sudden movement cut sharply through the crowd. And then pain exploded across her face.

The sound of the slap cracked violently across the deck.

Silence.

Complete silence.

For one terrifying second, nobody moved.

Her head turned slightly from the impact, champagne glass still loosely hanging between her fingers while strands of hair fell across her cheek.

The bride stood in front of her breathing hard, rage practically shaking through her body.

“There,” she snapped loudly. “Now everyone’s looking at me again.”

Nobody spoke.

Because they knew that stuff was going to get dangerous here. Slowly she turned her head back toward her. The bride’s expression faltered immediately, because the way she was being glared her almost gave her flashes of the future.

Which unfortunately didn’t take long before coming true.

A rock hard punch met her face, making her stumble back and knock into a table. The groom reached out to her but Su-gang stepped and held his wrist before it could touch her shoulder.

A sharp crack echoed across the deck the moment Su-gang twisted the groom’s wrist hard enough to force him backward.

“Don’t touch her,” he said flatly.

Unfortunately, the groom had apparently lost all remaining survival instincts tonight. “Get your fucking hands off me-”

Su-gang released him with enough force to nearly send him stumbling into another guest.

Around them, the entire party had dissolved into chaos. Conversations stopped completely. Phones appeared everywhere. Several horrified socialites were already pretending not to watch while very obviously watching.

Excellent.

She slowly flexed her jaw once before stepping toward the bride again. “You know,” she said conversationally, “I almost respected you a little.”

The bride wiped angrily at the blood beginning to drip beneath her nose. “You think you’ve won something?”

“I know I did.”

The bride’s face twisted instantly. “Won?” she snapped. “He chose me.”

She burst out laughing.

Actually laughing.

The sound felt almost insulting considering the situation.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “You really think all of this is about him? I couldn’t care less about that trash.”

The crowd nearby visibly reacted to that.

The groom’s expression darkened immediately. “Maybe if you actually cared about the people you dated-”

That did it. Su-gang moved before she even could.

“Careful,” he said softly.

Terrifyingly softly.

The groom scoffed bitterly. “Why? Gonna hit me too?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.” Su-gang replied calmly.

The bride looked moments away from a complete psychological breakdown now. “You two deserve each other,” she snapped viciously. “You’re both selfish, narcissistic psychopaths.”

And everything just went extremely downhill from here. The entire situation had four adults fighting each other like high schoolers. It was almost funny because Su-gang and her were enjoying the entire fight while the bride and groom lost their minds.

---

Later, she was in the bathroom of Su-gang’s suite. Water dipped slowly from her chin into the sink while she stared at her reflection. Beside her, Su-gang calmly rinsed blood from his knuckles beneath running water like tonight had merely been a mildly inconvenient networking event.

The alcohol in her system wasn’t helping her as she looked at him. Neither was the fact that his dress shirt sleeves were rolled carelessly to his elbows, exposing toned forearms still damp with water. A faint bruise had already started forming near his jaw from where the groom managed to hit him once.

She frowned immediately at the sight. “That looks ugly.”

Su-gang glanced toward the mirror lazily. “It’s nothing.”

Silence settled briefly between them again, softened only by the sound of running water and distant music vibrating faintly through the suite walls from somewhere lower on the ship.

Then suddenly Su-gang reached toward her face.

She froze instinctively.

His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek, turning her face slightly toward the bathroom lights. The movement felt careful despite the irritation still lingering in his expression.

The red mark from the slap remained faintly visible.

His jaw tightened instantly. “She hit you hard.”

The words came out quieter this time. Dangerously quiet.

She swallowed once. “It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t.”

Something strange twisted low in her stomach at how quickly he answered that. For one brief second, neither moved. His hand still rested lightly against her jaw.

Too close.

Way too close.

She suddenly became painfully aware of everything at once. The warmth radiating from his body. The scent of alcohol and expensive cologne lingering against his skin. The way his eyes kept flickering toward her mouth before dragging themselves back upward again like he was actively fighting himself.

Oh, that felt dangerous.

So naturally, her first thought was to ruin the moment immediately. But a second thought came. Did it even matter now? Running away from this had already stolen years from them. Years of pretending. Years of watching other people touch him while silently wondering what it would feel like if she just-

Oh, to hell with it.

The alcohol burning warmly through her system probably deserved some blame for what happened next. Or maybe not. Maybe this was simply something she had wanted for too long.

She grabbed the front of his shirt suddenly and pull him down toward her. Then she kissed him. Not is a soft and careful way, it was years of frustration collapsing at once.

Su-gang froze instantly against her mouth, like his brain physically failed to process what was happening. For one second, she almost pulled away but then his hand moved from jaw to the back of her neck, and everything got worse.

Because he kissed her back like he had been holding himself back for years. Like was angry about it. The force of it pushed her backward slightly against the marble counter, his grip tightening instinctively as though he needed to make she was still there.

Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.

God.

This was bad. This was catastrophically bad. Because the moment he kissed her back, she realized something horrifying. Nothing else had ever felt remotely like this. Not her ex-boyfriends. Not the awkward university relationships. Not anyone.

It had always been him.

Somewhere between the heat of the alcohol and the years of tension finally snapping apart, her fingers tightened against his shirt while his hand slid against her waist, pulling her closer without hesitation.

Like he had wanted to do this for a very long time too.

The realization alone nearly made her lose her mind. When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathing unevenly, the bathroom suddenly felt too small.

Too hot.

Su-gang stared at her for one stunned second before letting out a short, disbelieving laugh under his breath.

And from there, they didn’t stop. There were no words between, the way they touched each other was enough to speak for itself. How they ended up in the jacuzzi was a mystery of it’s own.

His hands travelled slowly across her back beneath the heated water, fingers pressing firmly against her skin each time she shifted against him. The movement pulled a rough breath from Su-gang as her hips rolled against him.

His head tipped back briefly and she took immediate advantage of it. Her mouth found the side of his neck, lips pressing against heated skin while her fingers slid into his hair. His breathing grew noticeably uneven beneath her.

A quiet curse slipped from him under his breath. His muttered her name, voice rougher than she had ever heard it before. She only tightened her fingers slightly in his hair in response.

Petty satisfaction curled instantly through her stomach at the sound of his breathing.

God.

So this was what it felt like to finally have him like this.

---

After a while, the chaos between them finally settled into something quieter. She rested her back against his chest, her skin still warm from everything that had happened moments earlier. One of his arms remained wrapped loosely around her waist beneath of the water while the other rested lazily along the edge of the jacuzzi.

“Why didn’t you tell me when we were younger?” Su-gang asked eventually.

She stared silently at the rippling water for a moment before answering. “I didn’t want to admit it,” she muttered. “So I kept trying to run away from it instead.” A small humorless laugh escaped her. “Dating other people seemed easier.”

Behind her, Su-gang laughed softly under his breath. “You make it sound like dating me would’ve been worse.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?”

She frowned slightly.

Honestly?

She still didn’t fully know herself.

“I just…” She exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to confess.”

The words sounded pathetic out loud. Su-gang’s hand shifted slightly against her waist, thumb brushing absentmindedly against her skin. “Then what changed now?”

She tilted her head back slightly to look at him before narrowing her eyes immediately. “Quit interrogating me.”

His brows lifted slightly.

“What about you?” she shot back. “If you liked me so much, why didn’t you confess?”

That earned another quiet laugh from him. “Darling,” he said lazily, “I didn’t exactly think you were secretly in love with me while dating half the men in the country.”

“Shut up.”

“You literally developed a coping mechanism involving other people.”

“I said shut up.”

She clicked her tongue irritably and tried sitting up straighter, only for Su-gang’s arm around her waist to tighten immediately, pulling her right back against him. Like he wasn’t willing to risk distance anymore now that he finally had her here. The realization made warmth crawl unpleasantly up her neck.

“I think I love you.” Su-gang murmured near her ear. And she quickly turned to look at him.

“You think?” She questioned, “you just think you love me?”

He was slightly confused for a second before realizing exactly what part of the sentence offended her. A quiet laugh escaped him immediately. Unbelievable.

Even now, while sitting in his lap half-soaked in jacuzzi water after confessing feelings they had both suppressed for years, she was still capable of getting irritated over phrasing.

“You’re seriously focusing on that?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That I said think?”

“Yes.”

Su-gang laughed again, softer this time. His forehead dropped briefly against her shoulder as though he genuinely could not believe her. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re bad at confessions.”

“Hm.” His fingers tightened slightly against her waist. “Fine.”

She waited.

Some deeply embarrassing part of her actually waited.

Su-gang lifted his head again slowly before turning her slightly toward him. The teasing amusement faded from his expression little by little until only something quieter remained.

Something far more dangerous. The kind of softness she had almost never seen from him before.

“I love you,” he corrected softly.

The words landed directly in her chest. Not dramatic. Not loud. But somehow that affected her more than everything else tonight combined. More than the kisses, the touching, the years of tension finally snapping apart between them.

She stared at him silently for a moment, her thoughts completely falling apart.

Su-gang’s brows lifted slightly after a few seconds. “What?” he murmured. “Aren’t you going to say it back?”

She turned fully toward him, straddling his lap properly. And then she kissed him again. This one was soft, unlike the desperate kisses from before.

Su-gang let out a quiet breath against her mouth the moment she kissed him, his hands instinctively settling against her waist like they belonged there naturally.

“You have no idea…” she whispered between kisses, her forehead brushing against his, “how much I love you.”

For a moment, Su-gang just looked at her.

Completely still.

And then suddenly his hands tightened around her hard enough to pull a startled laugh from her as he buried his face briefly against her shoulder.

“We really were idiots.”

a/n - I genuinely don't know if this is good or bad. I was loving it when I started writing but eventually I had mixed feelings about this piece 😭 But I hope you could still enjoy something.

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You stood in front of the claw machine like it had personally insulted your ancestors. Inside the glass case sat the cutest plushie ever, a chubby black cat with big sparkling eyes, tiny white paws, and a little red bow tie. It was perfect. You wanted it. No, you needed it.

For the seventh time, you fed another coin into the slot. The claw hummed to life. You bit your lip in concentration, tongue poking out slightly as you maneuvered the joystick with precision.

“Almost… almost… got it—”

The claw descended, gripped the cat’s head for half a second… and slipped right off. The plushie wobbled mockingly but stayed exactly where it was. The machine made that sad little “try again” jingle.

You let out a long, defeated groan and slumped against the glass. “Why is this thing so rigged? It’s like it hates me specifically.”

From behind you came a low, cocky laugh. Seong-je leaned against the side of the machine, arms crossed over his chest, that signature smirk plastered on his face. His school uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder, hair slightly messy in that effortlessly cool way. Even in the harsh arcade lighting, he looked like he owned the place.

“Having trouble there, babe?” he drawled, voice dripping with amusement. “Looks like the machine’s winning. Again.”

You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. Dating Seong-je meant dealing with his massive ego on a daily basis. He was Baek-jin’s right-hand man for a reason, brutal in fights, playful when he felt like it, and convinced he was the best at literally everything. Including, apparently, things he had never tried.

“It’s not my fault,” you muttered, poking the glass. “The claw is weak. Or the plushie is too heavy. Or the universe is against me.”

Seong-je pushed off the machine and stepped closer, towering over you with that arrogant tilt to his head. “Or maybe you just suck at it.” He grinned wider when you swatted his arm. “Relax. Watch a pro handle this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A pro? Since when are you a claw machine expert?”

“Since right now,” he said confidently, cracking his knuckles like he was about to step into a back-alley fight instead of an arcade game. “I’m good at everything, babe… picking up stuffed toys for my girlfriend? Piece of cake. Step aside and learn.”

He fed a coin into the machine with dramatic flair, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for a title match. You crossed your arms and watched, trying not to laugh already.

Seong-je gripped the joystick with surprising focus, eyes narrowing. “See? You gotta be precise. Calculate the angle. Account for the drop. It’s all about control.”

The claw moved. He positioned it perfectly over the cat’s head.

“Watch this,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “One smooth motion and—”

Down it went. The claw closed… around empty air. It brushed the cat’s ear and lifted nothing. The plushie didn’t even budge.

The machine played its mocking jingle again.

Seong-je stared at the glass for a long second. “What the—? That should’ve worked.”

You couldn’t hold back the snort. “Piece of cake, huh?”

He shot you a look, half-annoyed, half-challenged. “Beginner’s luck for the machine. Try number two.”

Another coin. Another attempt. This time he aimed for the side, trying to nudge it toward the prize chute. The claw grabbed the cat’s paw… and the entire thing slipped free at the last second, dropping the plushie right back into its smug position.

“Fuck,” Seong-je hissed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

You leaned against the machine, grinning now. “The great Geum Seong-je, terror of Kanghak High, defeated by a claw machine. I’m telling the whole Union.”

“Don’t even start,” he warned, but there was no real heat in it. His ego was clearly bruised, and that only made him more determined. “This thing is rigged. The claw’s loose on purpose. They want your money.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

He fed in a third coin, muttering strategy under his breath like he was planning a gang takedown. “Come on, you piece of junk…”

The claw descended. Gripped. Lifted.

For one glorious second, the cat rose halfway to the chute.

Then the claw opened prematurely. The plushie tumbled back down, landing face-first in a pile of other rejects.

Seong-je slammed his palm against the glass. “Are you kidding me?!”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth. “Oh my god, your face. You look like you just lost a real fight.”

“I don’t lose fights,” he snapped, pointing at the machine like it was a personal enemy. “And I’m not losing to this fucking machine either.”

What followed was a slow, hilarious descent into chaos.

Seong-je, the guy who could intimidate entire groups with a single smile, became completely obsessed. He started pacing in front of the claw machine, analyzing it like it was a rival gang’s territory.

“These things have weak spots,” he declared. “You gotta exploit them. Watch.”

Coin four. He tried slamming the joystick at the exact right moment for “extra grip power” (his words). The claw barely moved.

Coin five. He shook the machine lightly, not enough to trigger the tilt alarm, but enough to make you hiss, “Seong-je...”

"Shut, I'm not leaving this piece of junk until I win".

The cat remained untouched.

By coin seven, his confidence had shifted from cocky to stubborn. Sweat was beading on his forehead under the neon lights. His usual playful smirk had turned into a focused scowl that would’ve sent underclassmen running.

You were doubled over laughing at this point, clutching your sides. “Babe, it’s been twenty minutes. We can just buy a plushie somewhere else. Or, you know… admit defeat.”

“Defeat?” He whirled on you, eyes wide with mock outrage. “Geum Seong-je doesn’t admit defeat. Especially not over a goddamn cat plushie. I’m doing this for you. As a good boyfriend.”

You raised an eyebrow, still giggling. “A good boyfriend would’ve won it on the first try instead of trash-talking the machine for half an hour.”

He pointed an accusing finger at you. “You’re the one who wanted it. Now I have to win it. My pride is on the line here.”

“Your pride versus a claw machine. This is the hill you’re dying on?”

“Exactly.”

Coin eight. He tried a new tactic, tilting his body with the joystick like it would transfer “power” to the claw. The arm swung wildly and knocked over a different plushie instead. Not the cat.

“Close!” he claimed, even though it wasn’t.

You wiped tears from your eyes. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m strategically wearing it down,” he insisted, feeding another coin. “The machine will crack eventually.”

The arcade staff had started glancing over. One employee looked like he was debating whether to intervene as Seong-je muttered curses at the claw under his breath.

“Stupid weak grip… come on, grab it properly… I’ve crushed skulls harder than this thing…”

You leaned in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder as he concentrated on attempt number ten. “You know, it’s kind of cute watching you fail so spectacularly.”

He paused, turning his head just enough to glare at you. “Cute? I’m not cute. I’m intimidating.”

“Right now you look like a kid who lost his favorite toy.”

Another failed grab. The claw slipped again. Seong-je let out a dramatic groan and banged his forehead lightly against the glass.

“This is bullshit. In a real fight I’d have this thing on the ground in three seconds.”

“You can’t punch a claw machine, Seong-je.”

“Watch me.”

“You’ll get banned from the arcade.”

“Worth it.”

By now you were both laughing, him through gritted teeth, you openly. The absurdity of the situation hit hard: one of the most feared guys at school, known for his brutal streak and playful sadism in fights, was currently losing a battle of wills against a children’s toy dispenser.

He tried one more time. Coin eleven. Perfect positioning. The claw descended with what felt like divine intervention.

It grabbed the cat.

It lifted.

It moved toward the chute…

…and dropped it at the very edge. The plushie teetered for a heart-stopping moment… then fell back inside with a soft plop.

Seong-je stared in dead silence for five full seconds.

Then he exploded.

“Are you fucking serious right now?!” He threw his hands up, voice carrying over the arcade noise. A couple of middle schoolers nearby turned to stare. “That was perfect! The machine cheated! There’s no way—”

You were laughing so hard you had to hold onto his arm for support. “Oh my god, your ego is in pieces. I can see it shattering on the floor.”

He looked at you, cheeks slightly flushed from frustration and embarrassment, and for a second his usual cocky mask slipped into something almost pouty. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

Seong-je ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Then, unexpectedly, he started laughing too, low at first, then louder, that playful, slightly unhinged laugh he got when something genuinely amused him. “Fine. Okay. Maybe the machine’s stronger than it looks.”

“Maybe you’re not as good at everything as you think,” you teased, poking his chest.

He caught your hand, pulling you closer with that signature smirk returning, though it was softer now, edged with defeat. “Don’t push it. I’m still the best at the things that matter.” His voice dropped, playful but with that underlying intensity he always had around you. “Like keeping you around. Or beating up anyone who looks at you wrong.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile was warm. “My hero. Defeated by polyester and cheap mechanics.”

He glanced back at the cat plushie, still sitting there innocently. “One more try. Last one. If I lose, we leave and never speak of this again.”

“You’ve said that three times already.”

“This time I mean it.”

You both knew he didn’t.

Coin twelve. Seong-je took a deep breath, cracked his neck, and approached the joystick like it was a final boss. You stood behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, chin on his back, giggling quietly.

“Root for me or something,” he muttered.

“Go, big strong boyfriend. Show the evil claw who’s boss.”

“Shut up.”

The claw moved. Positioned. Descended.

Gripped the cat’s head and body this time.

Lifted.

Moved slowly, steadily toward the chute.

You held your breath.

Seong-je tensed, muttering, “Don’t you dare drop it…”

The claw reached the drop zone.

It released.

The plushie fell… straight into the prize chute with a satisfying thunk.

The machine lit up and played a cheerful victory tune.

Seong-je froze. Then he punched the air once, sharply. “Yes! I knew it!”

You squealed and immediately bent down to retrieve the cat plushie from the slot. It was even softer and cuter up close. You hugged it to your chest, beaming up at him.

Seong-je turned to you, chest puffed out, ego fully restored in record time. “See? Told you I’d get it. Just needed the right strategy. Persistence. Skill.”

You raised an eyebrow, holding up the plushie. “After twelve tries and a full mental breakdown?”

“Details,” he waved off, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “The point is, I won. For you. Because I’m such a good boyfriend.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you both walked away from the cursed machine. The cat plushie dangled from your hand, ears flopping with every step.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, tough guy.”

He smirked down at you, that arrogant, playful glint back in his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way. Next time you want something, just say the word. I’ll handle it. No problem.”

“Even if it’s another claw machine?”

“Especially if it’s another claw machine.”

You shook your head, but you were smiling too wide to hide it. Dating Seong-je was never boring. His ego was massive, his temper quick, and his pride ridiculous… but moments like this, when he turned something small and silly into a personal mission just because it made you happy, reminded you why you put up with all of it.

As you left the arcade, the neon lights reflecting in the evening streets, Seong-je stole the plushie from your hands for a second, holding it up like a trophy.

“See this? Proof that even rigged machines bow to me eventually.”

You snatched it back, laughing. “Sure, big guy. Sure.”

He grinned, unrepentant, and pressed a quick, rough kiss to the top of your head. “Damn right.”

The two of you walked home like that, you clutching your hard-won cat plushie, him with his arm around you, bragging the whole way about his “masterful” technique while you teased him relentlessly about the twelve failures.

Neither of you mentioned how much money had disappeared into that machine.

The only good thing in your life right now is that your apartment is close to your school. At least you can afford to wake up last minute.

You’re still half asleep, blindly patting around the nightstand, trying to shut the alarm off. You miss it twice before your hand finally finds your phone, and the noise cuts off, leaving a heavy silence behind.

You sit up slowly, steadying yourself on the bed with a frowb. The throbbing pain hits immediately, your back still aching from being slammed against the wall yesterday.

You freeze for a second, then glance down at your arms.

Bruises.

Faint, but visible. Blue spreading unevenly under your skin.

Great. Now I have to cover these up.

You get up, moving a little too stiffly, and start digging through your things, searching for concealer. You dab some over the marks, trying to blend it in, but the color still shows through.

You stare at it for a second, annoyed.

Never mind.

You check the time again. You’re already late.

You grab a long-sleeve shirt instead, black, the first one you find thrown over a chair, and pull it on. Jeans, quickly. No effort beyond that.

You don’t even bother with your hair.

As you pass by the mirror, something catches your eye.

You stop.

There’s a small cut on your cheek.

You frown, leaning in slightly.

Oh my god… where did that even come from?

For a second, you just stare at your reflection, tired, bruised, not fully there.

Then you look away.

You don’t have time for this.

You push your hair forward to cover it as much as you can, grab your things, and head out.

The classroom is louder than usual. Conversations overlap, chairs scrape against the floor, someone laughs too loudly in the back.

You slide into your seat without looking at anyone, keeping your head low as you pull your sleeves down just a little more over your wrists.

You try to ignore it, but you feel someone looking at you. You turn your head.

“You look worse than yesterday.”

It’s Seongje, his tone mocking as always, though there’s a hint of something softer underneath it. Worry, maybe. But you’re probably imagining it. Why would he care?

“Well, thank you for the comment I didn’t ask for,” you say, rolling your eyes and looking away.

“So how did it go?”

“I don’t think you’d be interested in that.”

“Come on, you’re still mad from yesterday.”

Mad?

You let out a quiet, humorless breath.

I nearly got beaten up by his guys, and he calls it mad.

“I’m not,” you say flatly. “It’s just none of your business.”

Your tone comes out sharper than you intended.

“Suit yourself,” he says, turning his attention back to his phone.

You don’t know why, but something tightens in your chest.

Of course he’d say that. What were you expecting?

He wasn’t asking because he cared. It was just something to entertain himself with. Something to laugh at.

And still…

Deep down, you wanted to tell him what really happened.

The bell rings. Class is over.

You quickly shove your books into your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and leave the classroom.

You keep walking with your head down, still trying to cover the cut on your face.

The hallway is less chaotic than the classroom, but still full of movement. Doors opening and closing, footsteps echoing off the walls, voices fading in and out.

You walk slightly faster than everyone else.

Head down.

You just need to get through this day. That’s all.

“I seriously need to know what happened yesterday for you to act like this. Wow, I’ve never seen you rushing like this, like, ever.”

You don’t need to turn to know it’s Seongje.

Great.

Can’t this guy leave me alone for a second?

Of all days, he chose today to keep annoying you.

“And I seriously need you to leave me alone,” you say, still walking.

He doesn’t stop you. Just keeps pace beside you, hands in his pockets like always, calm and annoyingly composed.

“Come on, Mirae,” he says with a teasing tone. “I know you like me being around.”

You pause for a second before answering.

“Oh God, never. I think you’re just really self-centered.”

A half-lie.

You actually don’t mind him being around, you just refuse to admit it to yourself.

You hear him laugh, and it does something you immediately try to ignore.

“Whatever,” he says. “Now tell me how did-”

You both pass by a window.

A gust of air slips through, and the strand of hair covering your face shifts just slightly.

The cut on your cheek is exposed for a second too long.

You react instantly, pulling your hair back down, too quick, too obvious.

“What were you going to say?” you ask, trying to shift the moment.

He stops mid-step.

“What’s that?”

His tone is lighter now, still sharp, but not pushing.

You barely react.

“What?”

He doesn’t repeat himself right away. Instead, his eyes move past your face.

To your cheek, where the cut is.

He pauses, then his gaze shifts slightly lower.

Your sleeve.

You instinctively adjust it before he can say anything else.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly. "im just clumsy.”

“Right,” he says.

His expression doesn’t fully change, but something in it does, something uncertain. Almost like suspicion he doesn’t act on.

He doesn’t push further.

“I paid for them,” you say suddenly.

“What?”

You glance at him briefly, already regretting bringing it up.

“You were going to ask how I got away with Baekjin. I covered it. With my own money.”

A pause.

“Now I’m basically broke, I guess.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’re joking.

Then he laughs.

“You’re absolutely insane.”

Yeah. Being around you would make anyone go insane.

“Well, good for you, Mirae.”

You force a small, flat smile.

“Yeah… anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you around.”

And before he can add anything else, you’re already walking away.

Because if he does, you might just break down in front of him.

And that is not an option.

It’s the end of the day. The sun is almost setting, and you’ve finally finished your classes.

Finally.

After that conversation with Seongje, you didn’t see him at all for the rest of the day.

Not that it’s unusual. He skips sometimes. But when he does, he’s usually still around the school… somewhere behind it, or in the hallways.

Not like you care. Or maybe you do.

You’re walking down the stairs when you hear low voices ahead, whispering, excited.

You tell yourself it’s probably just girls gossiping.

Until you catch a name.

“I can’t believe Seongje did that.”

“What do you mean you can’t believe it? That guy beats people up for a living.”

“No, but why would he do that to his own guys? They work with him. I need to know what happened, oh my god.”

“Word will get out. Don’t worry.”

They stop talking the moment you start walking closer.

You pass by them.

You can feel their eyes on you, but you don’t react. You just keep going.

Out the door.

The air outside is cooler. It hits your face and you close your eyes for a second, letting it settle.

You try not to think about what you just heard.

But your mind keeps circling it anyway.

Seongje.

Did he find out? Is that what it was?

No. That’s impossible.

He wouldn’t get involved in something like that.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Your thoughts don’t settle, no matter how hard you try to push them down, so you open your eyes and start walking home.

On the way, you remember there’s nothing to eat.

Right.

So you change direction and head toward the convenience store.

That’s the only place you can get food from, considering you’re kind of broke now.

You’re almost there when you try to cross the road.

Suddenly you see a familiar figure.

Again?

You didn’t want to admit it, but he might be the only one you could tell, considering he had some kind of connection with Baekjin.

You gathered your courage, swallowed your pride, and decided to go pay him a visit at that café he’s always at.

You’re outside, still wondering if you should really go in. He’ll probably just laugh in your face, but you’re taking the risk. Either way, you’ll end up humiliated.

You take a step forward and enter the café.

The lights are low. All you can see are glowing screens and thick smoke hanging in the air. You look around, searching for Seongje, when someone approaches you.

“What are you doing here? I don’t think it’s for playing,” he says, laughing, his tone mocking.

It’s one of Seongje’s guys, the one who’s always around.

“Where is Seongje? I need to talk to him,” you say, trying to sound irritated.

The guy smirks and points somewhere. You finally spot Seongje and start walking toward him.

He’s so focused on his game, he doesn’t even notice you standing beside him.

His hands move rapidly over the keyboard, and his glasses reflect the flickering screen.

You’re still standing there when you decide to pull him out of his screen. You knock on the table to get his attention.

“Hello? Can you get your eyes off the computer for a second?” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

He looks up at you, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face, not because of what you said, but because he’s clearly wondering what you’re doing here.

“Look who the wind brought to us. You sure you're not lost?”

“Save it," you shoot back. “Can we talk somewhere?”

You glance around, trying to find a corner where Seongje’s guys aren’t lurking.

"Didn’t know you were shy. Say it. We’re all listening.”

His response makes you hesitate. Coming here suddenly feels like a mistake. You’re about to say something in front of these people, something that could make you look weak.

You’re still stuck in your thoughts when he speaks again.

“I don’t have all the time in the world, Mirae. Are you going to talk?” he says, tapping his finger impatiently against the table.

“They lost the phones.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think? Those idiots. They had one job, and they screwed it up.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

He’s clearly getting annoyed now. You still haven’t answered him.

Then, suddenly, his expression shifts. His face lights up, a slow smile spreading across it.

“Wait… you’re in serious trouble now.” He sounds almost entertained. “You have to get those phones back tonight, or else…”

He lets the sentence hang, then starts laughing.

“What’s so funny, dumbass?”

“What? Can’t I laugh?” He tilts his head slightly. “I don’t want to assume you came here for my help… did you?”

You look away, trying not to let the humiliation show on your face.

“Bingo,” he says, grinning. “I love this game. Can’t wait to see what they’ll do to you.”

“Can you, for once, be serious?” you snap. “I never come to you for help youou know that. It’s just tonight… it’s Baekjin’s last straw. If I fail this, I’m done.”

“I know,” he says flatly. “That’s why I’m done listening.”

He turns back to his computer, already dismissing you, like you’re not even there.

You’re used to Seongje’s indifference. His bluntness. You knew he might react like this.

But somewhere deep down, you’d hoped he wouldn’t. You hoped he would show maybe not compassion, but something close to understanding.

He knew what happens when things like this go wrong. He’d been through it himself.

But no. It’s still Seongje.