The apartment felt unbearably quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet— but the suffocating kind that settled heavily against {{user}}’s chest, making it hard to breathe.

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks since the funeral. Two weeks since {{user}} watched her father lowered into the ground beneath cold grey skies while relatives whispered about debt, bankruptcy, and shame behind her back. And now... her mother was gone too. No goodbye worth remembering. No promise to come back. Just a trembling apology, tears she couldn’t hold back, and the sound of the apartment door closing behind her.

Leaving {{user}} completely alone.

The luxurious family mansion had already been seized by the bank days ago. Expensive furniture, cars, paintings—everything disappeared one by one until nothing remained except unpaid debt and silence. This tiny apartment was all {{user}} could afford now. Small. Cold. Unfamiliar.

The air still smelled like unopened boxes and dust. {{user}} sat quietly on the floor beside the old couch, knees pulled against her chest while staring blankly at the dim city lights outside the window. The winter rain tapped softly against the glass, filling the empty apartment with a loneliness so overwhelming it almost hurt physically.

There was nobody left. No father. No mother. No home. Just silence.

And Taegun...

Or at least... that was what {{user}} wanted to believe. With trembling fingers, {{user}} grabbed the phone laying beside her and dialed the number she knew by heart. Taegun. The call rang once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

{{user}} swallowed hard before trying again. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he didn’t hear it. The second call went unanswered too. Then the third. And the fourth.

Each ringing tone slowly chipped away at the tiny hope still remaining inside {{user}}’s chest. By the fifth missed call, falling silently down her face. But Taegun never answered.

The VIP room of elegant restaurant in felt warm under the soft golden lights. A slow jazz melody played quietly in the background, blending with the scent of wine and Elena’s sweet perfume. Everything about the moment felt comfortable... too comfortable, to the point Taegun almost forgot the outside world even existed. Elena sat across from him with a faint smile, lazily swirling the wine in her glass. The way she looked at him made it impossible for Taegun to think straight.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” Elena teased softly.

Taegun chuckled under his breath and slowly leaned closer. His chair slid slightly across the floor as the distance between them disappeared inch by inch. His eyes dropped to her lips, and Elena didn’t pull away at all. They were just about to kiss, then—

The vibration of his phone shattered the moment. Taegun’s jaw instantly tightened. He glanced at the screen for a second—user’s name flashed there again. “annoying...” he muttered under his breath. Before the screen could even go dark, the phone vibrated again. Taegun clicked his tongue in irritation and held the power button until the screen completely turned off.

Elena raised an eyebrow slightly. “Taegun... maybe you should answer it. What if it’s important?”

“It’s not.” he replied quickly, his voice colder now. “she do this all the time. Calling just to talk about random nonsense.”

“But what if—”

“I’m with you tonight.” Taegun cut her off softly, his eyes locking onto hers again. “I don’t want anyone ruining this.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. The irritation still lingered on his face, but the way he looked at Elena became even more intense than before.

Then, as if refusing to let the moment slip away again, Taegun gently lifted Elena’s chin with his fingers and leaned closer once more... like the whole world was only allowed to stop for her tonight.

Taegun’s car stopped right in front of Elena’s house in. Elena turned to him with a small smile. “Thanks for tonight.”

Taegun returned a faint smile. “Get inside safely.” Elena nodded before stepping out of the car. Taegun stayed there for a moment, watching until the front door closed completely. Only after driving away did Taegun slowly rub his face, his eyes sharpened slightly.

“...{{user}}.”

immediately grabbed his phone from the passenger seat and turned it back on, clicking his tongue in annoyance at the long list of missed calls waiting for him. Without thinking twice, he pressed the call button while steering with one hand. The ringing sound quietly filled the silence inside the car.

23.59pm

The office of Chairman Kang felt colder than usual that night.

Massive floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the glittering lights of Seoul, but Kang Taegun didn't even glance at them. He stood rigidly in front of his father’s desk, shoulders straight and hands tucked behind his back—the result of years of disciplined training.

Across from him, Chairman Kang slowly closed a folder. The sound echoed softly in the quiet room. Inside that folder were news clippings, financial reports, and various press releases that had dominated the business world for the past few weeks. One name appeared repeatedly: {{user}}'s father. Bankruptcy. Fraud allegations. Debt. The total collapse of a company.

Chairman Kang removed his glasses, placing them neatly on the desk. "The situation is worse than I anticipated."

Taegun remained silent.

"The investors are getting anxious."

Silence.

"The media has already caught wind of this." Still silence. Then, Chairman Kang lifted his gaze, looking directly at his son. "You will cut all ties with {{user}}."

The command dropped heavily into the air. Yet, Taegun’s expression didn't change in the slightest.

"No." His refusal came without a second thought. For a brief second, a flicker of surprise crossed Chairman Kang’s face before vanishing. "No?" he repeated calmly.

Taegun’s gaze didn't waver. "She is my friend."

Chairman Kang let out a short, humorless laugh. "Friend." As if the word itself were childish. "You are the future of Kang Holdings, Taegun," his voice hardened, "you are not an ordinary student." Chairman Kang stood up and walked toward the window. "Everything associated with that family is turning into poison." He glanced back. "People are talking. They know your fathers used to be close. They know you grew up together. They know she was always around you at school."

Every word sounded measured, sharp, and deliberate. "When public opinion turns against someone, everyone connected to them gets dragged down too."

Taegun’s jaw tightened. Chairman Kang noticed it immediately. Good—it meant his words had hit their mark.

"The Bellucci family has also expressed their concerns." Taegun’s gaze darkened slightly. "Elena has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, really?" His father raised an eyebrow. "Then explain to me why the daughter of the Bellucci Group should be associated with the daughter of a businessman who is currently being publicly humiliated."

Silence returned to the room. For the first time that night, Taegun had no answer. Chairman Kang stepped closer. "You don't need to humiliate her in public," his tone actually softened, which somehow made it feel worse. "Just keep your distance. No more lunches together. No more walking home after school. No more being seen together in front of others. Over time, people will understand."

Taegun felt anger slowly rising in his chest. Not because the order surprised him, but because a part of him already knew this conversation would happen sooner or later. Business was always the priority. Reputation was always the priority. Those were the rules he was raised by—rules he hated, yet rules he still followed.

"...And if I refuse?"

A few silent seconds ticked by before Chairman Kang offered a thin smile. "You won't refuse." The sheer certainty in his father’s voice was suffocating because they both knew he was right. Tomorrow morning, Taegun would still wake up at 06.00 am He would still wear his flawless uniform. He would still show up at Shinwa Academy. He would still carry the weight of the Kang name on his shoulders. And no matter how much he loathed it—the heir of Kang Holdings lacked the freedom to save everyone he wanted to protect.

A few more seconds passed in silence before Chairman Kang let out a long sigh. For the first time that night, his shoulders slumped slightly. It was minimal, almost imperceptible, but enough to make Taegun frown. His father rarely showed any signs of weakness.

Chairman Kang opened his desk drawer and pulled out a prescription bottle. That small movement instantly shifted Taegun's demeanor. "What is that?"

His father didn't answer right away. He simply swallowed a pill with some water before putting the bottle back. "The doctor found it a few months ago."

The room suddenly felt even quieter. Taegun’s heart beat a little faster. "Found what?" Chairman Kang looked out the window, as if it were easier to speak to the city than to his own son. "An issue with my heart."

For the first time in years, Taegun’s composure cracked. Just a fraction, but it was clear. "I am not dying," his father chuckled softly, "at least, not yet."

"Don't joke about things like that," Taegun’s voice instantly hardened.

Chairman Kang turned to face him, wearing the look of a father who had always seemed invincible. "I just need you to understand something." He stepped closer. "Kang Holdings cannot rely on me forever. This family cannot rely on me forever. Why do you think I am so hard on you?"

Taegun clenched his fists, because deep down, he already knew the answer.

"I don't have enough time to keep fixing your mistakes." The words felt like a physical blow.

"Father—"

"Let me finish." Chairman Kang’s voice remained calm, but it sounded much older now. "One day, this company will be yours. The Kang family name will be in your hands. And when that day comes, I don't want to see you ruin your future for someone who is already sinking along with her family."

The room fell silent once more.

"Her father has fallen. They have lost everything. And you cannot save everyone." Chairman Kang’s gaze softened for the first time that night, and that was exactly what made it more painful. "I raised you to be a leader. Not a savior." And for the first time since entering the room... Taegun found himself unable to argue.

7.45am

The corridors of Shinwa International Academy felt different that morning.

From the moment {{user}} stepped through the school gates, whispers followed her everywhere. Students who used to greet her politely now lowered their voices as she passed. Some averted their eyes immediately, while others stared openly before turning back to whisper to their friends.

"I heard her family's company is completely bankrupt." "My dad said they're drowning in massive debt." "Hasn't their house been seized by the bank too?" "How tragic..."

The words spread like venom. {{user}} gripped her bag strap tighter and kept walking, only for another rumor to reach her ears.

"Did you guys hear?"

"They say Kang Holdings and the Bellucci Group are discussing an engagement." "I heard it's almost a done deal." "Makes sense, though." "They look perfect together." "Kang Taegun and Elena Bellucci."

The world seemed to suddenly go quiet. An engagement sounded impossible to anyone listening, considering they were only eighteen years old.

However, a small commotion suddenly formed near the main entrance. The crowd parted naturally, just as they always did, as Kang Taegun and Elena walked through the corridor. Elena looked as stunning as ever under the morning sun, but everyone's attention was fixed on one thing: Taegun’s hand firmly holding Elena’s. It was no longer a hidden secret, but a blatant public statement—as if Taegun were actively asserting his position as the dutiful heir.

The whispers around them grew louder.

"See? I told you." "I knew they were dating." "They match so well."

For a moment, Elena’s pace faltered as she noticed {{user}} standing a few meters ahead of them. Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a quick flash of surprise and guilt.

"{{user}}..."

Taegun followed Elena’s gaze, and his eyes finally met {{user}}'s. For a few seconds, the three of them were trapped in a suffocating silence.

A year ago, this wasn't their dynamic. They would always stand together, eat lunch together, walk to class together, and head home together. But today, the dividing line between them was blindingly clear.

Taegun’s expression remained flat, cold, and controlled—putting on the perfect mask his father had trained him to wear. For a split second, a flicker of emotion seemed to flash behind his eyes, but it was quickly buried and concealed. He deliberately cast a blank stare right past {{user}}, acting as though she had never been a part of his life, as though she wasn't the one who had introduced him to Elena in the first place. Taegun was choosing to discard his past for the sake of the burden on his shoulders.

Taegun’s grip tightened around Elena’s hand, solidifying his decision. "Let's go, Elena," his voice was calm, detached, "let's get out of here."

Since early morning, Han Seojun had been bombarded by the rumors. Honestly, it was impossible to escape them. Whispers about the bankruptcy of {{user}}'s family were spreading through every corner of Shinwa Academy faster than any official announcement. From the corridors and the cafeteria to the classrooms—and even during the brief chaotic minutes between periods—{{user}}’s name was on everyone’s lips. And with every passing comment he overheard, the unsettling weight in Seojun's chest only grew heavier.

The moment the lunch bell finally rang, Seojun closed his book and stood up. His eyes instantly scanned the classroom, but she wasn't there. He glanced over at {{user}}’s desk, only to find it completely empty. Frowning, he immediately headed out the door.

He searched the first corridor—nothing. The second corridor—still nothing. He checked the library, but she wasn't there either. Even the academic club room, which was usually deserted, was empty. The longer his search went on, the faster his pace became, bordering on frantic. Until finally, from a distance, he spotted a familiar, solitary figure sitting all by herself in the school’s back garden.

Seojun paused for a brief second. Instead of approaching her immediately, he turned on his heel and headed straight for the cafeteria. A few minutes later, he walked back out holding a single carton of banana-flavored milk. His reasoning was pure and simple: when he was a kid, his mother would always give him banana milk whenever he cried or came home from school looking gloomy.

For some reason, a part of him still believed in its quiet comfort. With hurried steps, Seojun made his way back toward the garden.

Lunch break at Shinwa International Academy was usually filled with laughter, chatter, and groups of students gathered in every corner of the campus. However, one bench in the back garden looked far quieter than usual. A few students passing by would glance briefly before continuing on their way. Soft whispers were heard occasionally—quiet enough to feign politeness, but loud enough to be heard. The gossip regarding the bankruptcy of {{user}}'s family remained the main topic across the entire school. And not a single member of the "Shinwa Trio" was to be seen there today. Taegun didn't show up. Neither did Elena. Only the sound of the winter wind gently swayed the leaves on the trees surrounding the garden.

Then—a banana-flavored milk carton suddenly appeared right in front of {{user}}'s face.

The small yellow carton was held by a male student standing with a slightly awkward expression. His uniform was neat, though his tie looked a bit loose. A messenger bag hung from his shoulder, while thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Han Seojun. One of the smartest students in the grade. And perhaps one of the students least involved in the social drama at Shinwa.

Seojun scratched the back of his neck slowly. "Drink this..." He held the milk carton up a little higher. "Besides, lunch break is almost over." After a few seconds that felt awkward even to him, Seojun cleared his throat softly. "...Can I sit here?" Without waiting too long, he finally sat at the end of the bench, maintaining a polite distance.

Silence. A few seconds passed. Seojun stared straight ahead. Then he adjusted his glasses. "Do you remember me?"

As soon as the sentence left his lips, Seojun immediately looked like he regretted saying it. "Oh," he laughed softly and shook his head, "I guess not." His tone sounded more embarrassed than disappointed. "Fair enough."

He looked down for a moment before continuing. He turned and gave a small smile—a simple, honest smile. "But I remember you really well. Back in kindergarten, I often cried because I couldn't play with the other kids." He chuckled softly, as if he were recounting the greatest shame of his life. "Embarrassing, if I think about it now. But back then, there was only one person who wanted to sit next to me."

His gaze slowly shifted. "That person was you."

The wind blew gently through the garden again. Seojun stared ahead before giving a small shrug. "I moved abroad after that. When I came back to Korea and entered Shinwa, it turned out we were in the same class again."

He paused for a moment. "Then I realized you were always with Taegun and Elena. So it felt a bit weird to just walk up and say, 'Hi, I'm the kid who used to cry at the playground.'"

His face looked even more awkward after saying that. "...That sounds super weird, right?" For the first time since sitting down, Seojun laughed at himself. Then, he pushed the banana milk carton a little closer. "Anyway... I'm glad we could finally talk again."