This was officially the worst day I could imagine — a day that seemed determined to shatter me. Instead of making a favorable impression, I felt like a clumsy fool, drowning in embarrassment. How was I supposed to explain to him that I had truly tried to be nice? As I sat there, anxiety twisted tight in my stomach.
"Do you want a ride?" His voice was like steel, revealing nothing despite the storm of unspoken words hanging in the air between us. We both knew the weight of my blunder, and I could practically hear the crackle of tension.
"Sure, why not," I replied, though uncertainty dripped from my words like rainwater off a weary eave. I slid into the back seat of his sleek car, the leather cool against my skin, but the air inside was surprisingly sweet, like freshly bloomed jasmine. He sat across from me, his expression carved from marble — stoic, enigmatic, as if he were a statue in a gallery meant to provoke thoughts, I wasn't ready to decipher.
As the driver eased into motion, I felt the buzz of the rain outside; each drop ricocheted off the windshield, creating a symphony of chaos. A chill slithered up my spine, clashing with my rising panic. Suddenly, he reached over, offering me his jacket, the fabric warm and imbued with his scent — a musky blend that sent my heart racing.
"Um, thanks for the jacket," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, swallowed by the hum of the engine.
He studied me with concern shadowing his chiseled features. "You don't look good. Are you okay?" His eyes bore into mine, deep pools of curiosity and perhaps something else — a flicker of compassion.
"Yes, but I'm just… sad, you know? Not everything is going as planned." My gaze drifted to the window, where the night sky glimmered like a tapestry of diamonds, mocking my despair.
"Why? What happened?" He leaned slightly forward, the tension between us thickening like fog.
"Well, let's just say life… love is complicated," I said, letting my voice trail off like wisps of smoke, longing for answers just out of reach. "Not everything happens at your will. Life goes on." I turned back to him, our eyes locking, the moment charged with unspoken words, until it shattered with the abrupt trill of his phone.
"You should answer that. What if it's important?" I suggested, though a part of me was desperate to cling to this fragile connection.
"Right." He stepped into the call, and I was left suspended in time, waiting like a coiled spring, filled with anticipation for him to return. Five long minutes crawled by, until he finally hung up. Concern etched across his handsome face, I couldn't help but ask, "Is everything okay? You don't look so good."
He sighed, the weight of whatever burden he carried palpable. "Yes, just family business," he replied, his words flat, like stones dropped into a still pond.
Maybe I should have demanded he drop me off right there, fearing I would become a further inconvenience. "Why not let me out here?" The words tumbled from my mouth, regret lacing each syllable the moment they escaped.
"Why should I?" His tone held a challenge, and heat flooded my cheeks, thwarting my resolve. "You'll catch a cold if you walk in this weather. Plus, it's freezing outside." A smirk peeked at the corner of his mouth, igniting a spark of something — mischief?
"You know what, it doesn't matter." Embarrassment wrapped around me like a heavy cloak, and an uncomfortable silence settled like dust.
"So, changing the subject, what's your name? Not that I care, but just in case we run into each other again." His casual tone contrasted sharply with the intense scrutiny in his gaze.
"Kim Mi-Chan... or just Mi-Chan, whatever you prefer," I replied, my heart racing.
"Nice to meet you, Mi-Chan. I'm Lee Jung-Kyo or Jung-Kyo — CEO of the Geomkyo group." The name hit me like a thunderclap; I recognized him now, the man from my bedroom wall, a figure I had admired from afar. Seeing him up close felt surreal yet thrilling.
"It's my pleasure to meet you, Jung-Kyo," I replied, forcing formality through the dizzying excitement. My mind raced with questions — was he dating anyone?
As we neared my home, panic gripped me like a vice. I had forgotten my essay, the one that could unlock my future. "We should hurry up."
"Why?" he asked, eyes narrowing, curiosity piqued.
"No need to explain." I stammered, "It's… family." A lie as flimsy as a spider's web, and I cringed at my own deception.
"Okay, driver, can you please speed up a bit? There's a woman who needs to get home," he commanded, turning his attention back to me. My cheeks burned; did he just—?
As the car accelerated, the world blurred past. I felt like a fleeting thought that could vanish at any moment. He turned to me with a playful glint in his eye, but before I could contemplate the possibilities, the car pulled to a stop outside my house. I leaped from the car, the chill of the evening rushing back to me, and just as the door was closing, I called out, "Thank you, CEO Lee Jung-Kyo, for the ride!"
His gentle smile lingered in my mind as I hurried inside, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. Little did I know, this day — the worst day ever — was just the beginning.
While the world buzzed around her, I couldn't stop thinking about Jung-Kyo—his face, his smile, the way his voice lingered in her mind like a haunting melody. Everything about him was unique, magnetic, impossible to ignore. Yet, reality tugged at her: I still had to finish my essay, due on Monday. The thought made my stomach twist—until an unexpected grumble shattered her focus. I jumped, startled, before realizing it was her own stomach protesting.
It had been hours since I last ate. Sighing, I grabbed my coat and slipped out to a nearby convenience store, glancing over my shoulder nervously seeing if Chae-Sun noticed I was gone, she'd panic and think been kidnapped—or worse, and she wasn't in the mood for misunderstandings tonight.
The chilly night air bit my skin as I rushed through the dimly lit streets. My thoughts tangled with worry and hunger, so much so that i didn't notice the figure until I collided with him. A firm hand gripped my waist, steadying before I could stumble. My breath caught as shivers raced down my spine. I looked up—and froze. It was Jung-Kyo.
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch and still. I could feel the warmth of his hand through my coat, and the faint scent of cologne lingered in the air between them. Embarrassed, I quickly pulled away, heat rushing to my cheeks.
"Sorry," I stammered, unable to meet his gaze.
"No, it's okay. Don't worry," Jung-Kyo replied, his voice soft, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
We both blushed, a strange but pleasant awkwardness settling over us. I muttered another apology and hurried into the store, my mind spinning. I grabbed a pack of ramen and a can of beer, hoping to calm the storm inside me. My hands trembled as I placed the items at the counter, and just as I was about to reach for my wallet, Jung-Kyo appeared behind me.
"I'll pay," he offered, his voice firm but kind.
I glanced at him, my cheeks flaming. "Oh, um… thank you."
"It's nothing," he said, flashing her a small, gentle smile.
I felt the air between us shift, heavy with unspoken emotions. Awkwardly, I nodded and left, the crisp air stinging my flushed cheeks. I hurried home, too rattled to even thank him properly. Once inside, I dropped the bag onto my desk and stared at her unfinished essay. But the ache in my chest refused to let me concentrate.
My hands found the beer first. I cracked it open, the bitter taste burning my throat as I tried to forget Se-Jin. His cold words from our breakup still echoed in my mind, cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. Beer turned into ramen, ramen into another can. Hours blurred together until 3 a.m., when the door creaked open, Chae-Sun appeared, her face etched with concern.
"You're still not over him, are you?" Chae-Sun asked, sitting beside me.
I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. "He blocked me, Chae-Sun. Like I don't even exist anymore."
Chae-Sun sighed and pulled me into a hug, her presence a small comfort in the chaos. But even as the clock ticked forward and the weight of exhaustion pulled me into bed, my thoughts stayed on Jung-Kyo. Somewhere in the quiet of the night, as I drifted into restless sleep, I realized— I wasn't ready to let go, not of Se-Jin, and not of myself.
Morning broke, and sunlight seeped through the curtains, igniting the chill in the air with a tentative warmth. Birds serenaded the dawn, their melodies beautiful yet foreign in a distressed state. As I jolted awake, panic bubbled within me—the essay! It loomed like a mountain that only grew higher the longer I looked at it.
"WAKE-UP, CHAE-SUN!" The roar of my voice filled the room, sounding like a lion's growl—far too loud for the morning stillness.
"Ack! What's wrong with you? It's only 10 a.m.!" Chae-Sun shot up, her eyes wide, fear lining her features as if sensing the story-turning chaos ahead.
"What's wrong—" I tried, but Chae-Sun leapt into action mid-sentence, panic taking over.
"We are late, Mi-Chan! We're late!" Rushing around the room, she turned the scene into chaos; clothing was flung in every direction, hairbrushes and beauty pots scattered like fallen soldiers.
"Calm down, Chae-Sun!" I intervened, grabbing her shoulders firmly.
"But we are la—"
"Shh! The reason I woke you up is I haven't finished my essay, and today is the last day! Also, it's Sunday—no work for you!"
As understanding washed over Chae-Sun, her breath released in a grateful sigh. "Oh, thank god."
With adrenaline sharpening her focus, Mi-Chan slipped into baggy clothes and adorned her feet with Nike air forces, careful to disguise the chaos she felt inside when her phone buzzed, startling her again.
"Unknown number," I muttered, a pang of instinct urging caution, but I ignored it in her single-minded rush—blocking the number without a second thought, unknowingly severing a thread that could soon unravel her world entirely.