The rest of the evening passed like a slow succession of shadows and muffled breaths, a sort of emotional coma where every movement seemed to belong to someone else.
Nari sat on the couch for long minutes, her gaze fixed in the void, her hands resting on her thighs without being able to move them, as if her own body refused to listen to her.
Her boyfriend, meanwhile, was absorbed in his video game, headset on, fingers clicking frantically on the controller, completely disconnected from reality — and especially from her.
He didn't see her expression.
Nor the tension tightening her jaw.
Nor the tremors running through her fingers.
Nor the contradictory emotions devouring the cage of her stomach like a starving animal.
He heard nothing.
Felt nothing.
Understood nothing.
And maybe, that night, that was worse than everything else.
When they went to bed, Nari stayed still on her side for a long time, eyes open, back turned, while he fell asleep within minutes, his breathing peaceful, almost innocent. She stared into the darkness, the wrinkled sheets, the faint light of the ceiling lamp she hadn't even bothered to turn off.
A sensation went through her, cold, almost metallic:
I'm not the same anymore. I can never go back.
The next morning, she got up with the impression that her body moved before her mind. Every gesture was automatic, mechanical: turning on the water, washing her face, putting on clothes, one foot in front of the other.
But something burned under her skin, as if a spark lit the night before refused to go out, spreading slowly through her veins.
A new flame.
Unstable.
Disorienting.
Almost… intoxicating.
8:58 AM — 17th Floor, K-Media Advertising Agency.
A glass door opened, letting in a draft of cold air that made the entire open space shiver.
Nari had just arrived.
No one greeted her.
No one lifted their eyes.
But she felt — as always — that invisible movement, those heels clicking on the floor then suddenly stopping, those backs leaning closer to whisper, those muffled breaths changing rhythm the second she walked between the white desks.
She looked at no one.
She walked forward, a dark silhouette in a sea of overly bright neon lights.
But today…
something in her had changed.
A desire to flip everything over.
To bite.
To live.
She sat at her usual spot, at the back of the room where the light was the coldest, the deadest, the place no one ever sat because the AC blew an almost polar wind — as if the room had been trying to freeze her alive for years.
She opened her computer.
And as if the universe enjoyed repeating the same nightmare every day, two silhouettes approached slowly behind her.
The two coworkers.
Always the same.
More venomous than snakes that had learned to walk in stiletto heels.
Today, they weren't laughing.
Today, they wanted to sting.
— You've seen how she's dressed? whispered one, loud enough for Nari to hear.
— I wonder how much she charges for extra favors with Mr. Kang…
Nari closed her eyes for a second.
Usually, she took it.
Always.
Like a habit.
Like a punishment.
But today…
she still had Sion's hands on her skin.
His breath on her throat.
His voice in her ear.
And that fire burning in her veins like a drug.
She inhaled.
— Go fuck yourselves, she said calmly, without turning around.
A frozen silence fell.
The two women froze, as if a shadow had just slapped them.
Then heavy footsteps approached behind them.
Mr. Kang.
Always his over-ironed shirt.
Always his too-expensive cologne.
Always his too-long smile.
— Nari. My office. Now.
The coworkers stepped aside like hyenas in front of a lion.
She stood up, meeting his gaze — a gaze filled with impatience, pressure, and that something else she had always refused to name.
⸻
His office.
Always too dark.
Always too small.
Always with the blinds half-drawn, letting just a strip of light fall on the chair like a theater spotlight.
— Sit down, he said in a low voice.
She sat.
He closed the door.
Too slowly.
— You seem tense this morning, he continued as he circled the desk.
Do you want me to help you… release some of that pressure?
She didn't move.
Didn't blink.
But something inside her boiled.
Yesterday, she would have trembled.
Yesterday, she would have lowered her eyes.
Yesterday, she would have obeyed.
But today…
Sion had awakened a beast in her mind.
A beast that no longer wanted to be trapped in a too-dark office.
She straightened her chin.
— Drop the file. I'll finish it before noon, Mr. Kang.
He stopped.
A little surprised.
A little offended.
— You're refusing to talk? he asked, crouching beside her, his hand almost touching her knee.
— I'm refusing to let you touch me, she replied calmly, cold.
Put the file down.
A silence.
Long.
Thick.
Electric.
Then he stood up, slamming the folder on the table.
— Fine. But you know how… resentful I can be.
He walked out.
The door slammed.
Nari stayed alone.
Her hands trembling.
Her breath short.
But for the first time…
she wasn't trembling from fear.
She was trembling from adrenaline.
From rage.
From life.
She placed a hand on her stomach, right where that wild fire still burned — born from a stolen kiss, from a fight with a man who knew no limits and no boundaries.
The day stretched like a rope ready to snap, each minute pulling a little harder on her nerves, each breath weighing down the tension vibrating between her shoulder blades; and yet, despite the fatigue, despite the nausea rising from time to time, she tried to work.
To blend into the routine.
To put her mask back on.
But everything was too alive today.
Too loud.
Too clear.
Every muffled laugh at the other end of the open space felt like an attack.
Every step behind her, a threat.
At 3:14 p.m., as she attempted to dissolve into the fog of the office, her phone rang, slicing through the silence.
She didn't even need to look at the screen.
That ringtone — she'd recognize it anywhere.
Mom.
A cold shiver crawled up her spine.
She answered.
— Hello, Nari?… do you remember Yon? He lost everything gambling… with your money.
I… I'm ruined. Nari, I'm begging you… send me 5000 euros.
Her voice trembled.
A trained tremble.
A theater as old as her childhood.
— Mom… don't start…
— You're gonna let your mother die? she suddenly screamed, her voice shooting up, sharp, aggressive — a scream Nari knew too well. Huh? You want me to jump off a bridge? You want me dead?
Nari closed her eyes.
Again.
Always the same words.
Always the same threats.
Always the same rope tightening around her neck.
And behind that voice…
a childhood of cold rooms,
slamming doors,
bottles rolling under furniture,
hands of men who didn't know what a boundary was,
nights where she didn't dare breathe too loudly in her bed.
She inhaled, softly.
— Not this month, Mom. I can't.
A silence.
Then the venom.
— Ungrateful bitch.
You forget everything I sacrificed for you.
Send me the money… or I swear you'll regret being born.
Beep.
She hung up.
She stood still for a moment, fingers clenched around her phone, pulse pounding in her throat.
She didn't cry.
She didn't have enough tears left for that.
It was late afternoon —
at 5:56 p.m., just before she left the agency —
that she finally snapped.
The hyenas attacked again.
— So, Nari? No smile today?
— Maybe the boss didn't give her her dose of—
— She must be craving it, look at her, she looks miserable!
She turned around.
Slowly.
Too slowly for it to be impulsive anger.
Too slowly for it to be fear.
Her smile was thin, almost gentle.
But her eyes…
Her black eyes were burning.
— It's fascinating, really…
The two froze.
— This pathetic need you have to talk about me. It must be exhausting having a life as empty as your heads.
One step toward them.
They stepped back.
— You wanna know who I'm sleeping with? Ask the boss. He'll tell you I make him beg for hours. And you? You just bark like dogs in heat for crumbs of attention. So shut your fucking mouths. And go fuck yourselves.
Silence.
A thick, icy, sublime silence.
She turned around, grabbed her bag, and walked out.
For the first time in a long time…
she felt alive.
Truly alive.
7:32 p.m. — Apartment.
The rain was still falling.
She opened the door.
Soaked.
Breathless.
Drained.
And there —
in the living room —
two voices.
Laughter.
Her heart slowed.
Then exploded with fear.
Her boyfriend was sitting on the couch…
and across from him, legs crossed, slow smile…
Sion.
— Oh, Nari! You never told me about your coworker!
He's super cool, come here! He told me the funniest stuff!
Sion lifted his eyes toward her.
Calm.
Confident.
As if he already lived there.
— I told you I'd come see you, he murmured.
The ground vanished under her feet.
Her heart…
her breath…
her sanity…
All turned to dust.
The kitchen was lit by a trembling yellow bulb, the kind that made everything look narrower, more intimate, more dangerous. Nari rushed in like someone escaping into a bunker, her hands still shaking, her breath cut off by the sight of Sion sitting in her living room, in her life, in her fragile calm.
She grabbed the counter, tried to find a normal breath, a normal thought, a normal reaction.
But nothing was normal.
Her fingers trembled too much.
Her throat was too tight.
Her heart beat too fast.
He has no right to be here.
Not here. Not in front of him. Not with my boyfriend in the next room.
Not in my life.
Not in my head.
She inhaled.
Once.
Twice.
— The faster he eats, the faster he leaves… she murmured to herself, like a prayer, like a mantra.
A breath behind her.
She flinched.
Turned around.
He was already there.
Sion.
Leaning against the fridge, massive silhouette, dark, relaxed like a predator who has already cornered his prey, golden eyes fixed on her as if nothing else existed — not the world, not the rain, not her drunken boyfriend on the couch.
— Your boyfriend is… endearing, he whispered, letting his fingers glide along the edge of the counter.
Each syllable vibrated, warm, slow, dangerous.
— He told me, with shining eyes, how you're "his whole life."
A silence.
A smile.
— What a fragile little creature. And… boring to death.
Nari felt shame rise.
And anger.
And something else.
— Shut up, Sion.
She tried to step past him.
He placed his hand on her waist.
Just enough to stop her.
Just enough to make her lose all coherence.
— You know what I think? he murmured against her ear, so close she felt the hot brush of his breath.
— He just fell asleep on the couch.
She turned abruptly.
— Actually, he makes me come way more than you ever could.
A lie.
Violent.
Necessary.
Like a knife she shoved into his pride.
She saw something pass in his eyes.
A dark flash.
A threat.
He stepped forward.
She stepped back.
Her back hit the sink.
A silence.
Thick.
Electric.
— You're a bad liar, Nari.
She smiled — a trembling smile, a defiant smile, a smile saying don't come closer and come closer at the same time.
He pinned her against the sink.
His hip against hers.
His hand slid under her skirt.
Brutal.
Possessive.
Between her thighs.
A shock tore through her body.
— Sion… stop…
Another lie.
She grabbed his face.
Her fingers tightened on his jaw.
She bit his lip, so hard a metallic taste surfaced between them.
— You think you can compare to him?
Her voice was low, shaking, but venomous.
— He makes me scream. He takes me slowly, deeply…
She pressed her hand against his zipper.
— His hands on me… his tongue… I come just thinking about it.
She saw his throat tighten.
His breathing grow heavier.
His fingers tighten on her thigh.
She gained one step.
One breath.
One victory.
She unzipped him.
Slid her hand inside.
Took him.
Slowly.
Roughly.
She jerked him off as if she wanted to punish him, break him, keep him.
Her gaze locked in his.
He let out a growl, low, deep, almost animal.
— If he makes you come that much… why did you beg me to fuck you?
She smiled.
A beautiful smile, cruel, beautiful again.
She sped up, made him moan, made him harden even more.
— Because I like to play. You were just one among many. Nothing special.
Lie.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He slammed her against the wall, his hot breath on her mouth, his fingers gripping her hips.
She felt the explosion in her belly.
Hers.
His.
Theirs.
Their two fires melting together.
Then suddenly — he froze.
He stepped back.
Sharp.
Clean.
As if touching his own desire had burned him.
— This little game is going to cost you.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Staring at him.
Without shaking.
— Then go ahead. I never lose.
His golden eyes gleamed with a dark, terrible light.
— You have no idea what you're getting into…
He grabbed his jacket.
Looked at her one last time.
A look that promised the end of the world.
And left.
The door slammed like a gunshot.
Outside, in the black car, he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
He wanted her.
Only for himself.
The game was turning.
He was burning.
In the living room, silence had fallen.
Her boyfriend slept, the can still in his hand.
She collapsed to the floor, flushed, sweating, seconds away from screaming his name.
Shame, hunger, fear — all tangled together.
— You're insane… she whispered.
She went back to the living room.
Covered her boyfriend with a blanket.
Placed a kiss on his forehead.
— I hope one day… I'll be able to settle for you…
But she already knew.
The fire was lit.
And nothing would put it out.