I didn't sleep.
Not even a minute.
When the sun finally dragged itself into my room, I was still lying there, eyes burning, chest hollow. I grabbed my phone out of habit, scrolling because it was the only thing I knew how to do when I was falling apart.
Then I froze.
A video.
Chaewon.
Walking out of a hotel.
Beside him — Seokmin.
Head down, jacket pulled over his face like he was hiding from gunfire. His shoulders were shaking, like someone had wrung him out.
The caption punched me in the stomach:
"Former Nexon member spotted dating a rich businessman's son."
The comments were worse. They crawled across the screen like insects.
"He must've had a rough night hahaha."
"Guess being a whore pays better."
"Dating a high-school boy. Who's the pedo now."
My fingers went cold.
My chest went completely numb — a soft, spreading numbness, like anesthesia before a knife.
Why were they at a hotel?
Why was he hiding his face?
Why did it feel like every bone in my body cracked at once?
And then another post popped up before I could breathe:
"Chaewon's boyfriend's brother is Seungmin… both heirs are gay."
Under it:
"Rich people have weird hobbies."
"Look at his brother's boyfriend — looks like a girl."
"Typical twink trying to survive."
My own face.
My own body.
Dragged into their mouths like trash.
The phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor.
I just stared at it where it fell, my heart climbing into my throat.
I wanted to sue them.
I wanted to scream.
But I could do nothing — not now, not with Jiwoo counting on me to keep things steady.
No drama.
No explosions.
Still…
Everyone knew.
Everyone was talking.
About Chaewon.
About Seokmin.
About me.
It felt like standing naked in a room full of people waiting to laugh.
--
The whole day felt like someone pressing a thumb into a bruise I couldn't protect.
By nightfall, I was a ghost.
And then my phone rang again.
"Your friend's drunk at the club — he's making a mess."
I didn't want to go.
Not after the humiliation.
Not after the comments.
Not after feeling like the world had peeled off my skin.
But they said it was Jisoo.
Jisoo — the same Jisoo who tricked me, played me.
But also the Jisoo who sat beside me in high school when I had nobody.
The Jisoo who taught me how to survive the halls without breaking. He helped me out in so many ways.
I couldn't ignore that.
I wouldn't.
So I went.
Mask. Cap. Hood.
Hiding like my whole existence was a crime.
---
The club hit me like a punch — sweat, smoke, lights slicing the dark, glass crunching under someone's shoes. People yelling. Someone crying. A bottle rolling across the floor.
And in the middle of it—
Jisoo.
A man had him by the arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"You wanna flirt, then run now?" the man barked. "Hell no — you're coming with me."
Seungmin was there too.
His face—
I'd never seen him like that.
Anger didn't just show on him, it took possession.
"Let him go," he snarled. "He's my friend."
"Friend?" the man spat. "He's coming with me."
Something snapped.
Not in the room.
Inside Seungmin.
He punched the man.
Once.
Twice.
Then again — harder, faster, losing control.
Blood sprayed onto the floor.
Someone screamed.
A couple backed away.
The club swallowed itself in chaos.
And I stood there — frozen, useless, watching.
Because the truth hit me with every sickening thud of Seungmin's fist:
That day he attacked that businessman…
I'd thought he was protecting me.
But no.
Now I could see the truth like a knife turning:
It was never about me.
It was always Jisoo.
He would bleed for Jisoo.
He would kill for Jisoo.
Not me.
Never me.
My chest collapsed from the inside.
I felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't stay, couldn't exist in that room.
So I ran.
Outside, the cold slapped me hard. I leaned against my car, gasping, lungs stuttering. The world tilted and blurred like I was underwater.
Footsteps behind me.
Voices.
Jisoo and Seungmin.
Jisoo sobbing like a child.
"How can you leave me alone?" he cried. "Take me with you. I can't live without you."
Seungmin's voice dropped — soft, gentle, the tone he never used with me.
"Okay. We'll run together. Just… let's go home first."
"Seokmin's home?"
"No. Mine. We can't go there. Someone's in the house."
Then I heard Jisoo fall into his arms.
Seungmin caught him.
Held him.
And together, they left.
He was taking Jisoo home.
Jisoo.
To his house.
To his space.
To his safety.
It felt like a blade sliding under my ribs.
I stayed in the lot long after they disappeared.
Then I drove.
Nowhere.
Everywhere.
I don't even remember.
The tears came out of nowhere — hot, violent, unstoppable. My hands shook so badly I almost veered off the road. I pulled over, chest burning, throat tight.
I slammed my fists into the steering wheel, again and again until my palms split and streaks of red smeared the leather.
"I hate you," I whispered, voice cracking.
"I hate you so much."
Then my voice broke completely.
"But I hate myself more…
for still loving you."
And for a moment, I just sat there — bleeding, trembling, completely undone — wondering how a person can survive heartbreak that deep.