CHAPTER 1 (4 chps total)
Han Lita stared at her laptop screen, her eyes burning from staying awake all night. The final line of her script blinked in front of her, waiting to be typed. Outside, the city lights were fading into dawn, but her room was still lit only by the soft glow of the screen.
She whispered to herself,
"Just one more paragraph… then I'm finally done."
Her fingers trembled as she typed the final scene of her fantasy-romance drama.
The hero, Juhoon, stood on a bridge under a silver sky, confessing a truth he had hidden for years.
Lita paused.
Juhoon was her favorite character she had ever created — cold-hearted on the outside, secretly gentle, brave but quietly lonely. He felt almost too real sometimes.
She exhaled and finished the last sentence.
"Done."
The moment she saved the file, exhaustion hit her like a wave. Her head dropped onto her arms, and before she could stop herself, she fell asleep right on her desk.
A sudden wind brushed her face.
Lita's eyes snapped open.
She wasn't in her room.
She was standing on a stone bridge, surrounded by glowing lanterns floating across a midnight-blue sky. A soft breeze blew through her hair, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms.
Her heart froze.
"This… this is the world I wrote," she whispered.
She recognized every detail — the bridge, the lamps, the river below.
But it wasn't possible.
A distant sound of footsteps echoed behind her.
Lita turned sharply.
A tall figure walked toward her, bathed in moonlight. Black hair. Sharp eyes. A serious expression she had described a hundred times.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was Juhoon.
The male lead she had created.
He stopped a few steps in front of her. His eyes scanned her face with a mix of confusion and curiosity — exactly the way she had written him.
But his voice…
His voice was deeper, more real.
"You're not from here," he said quietly.
Lita stared at him, speechless.
"How… how is this happening?" she whispered.
Juhoon tilted his head slightly. "I could ask you the same thing."
Her heartbeat pounded so hard she could barely stay upright. She looked around, trying to find something familiar, something logical.
But everything was from her story.
Her world.
Her script.
"This has to be a dream," she whispered to herself.
Juhoon stepped closer.
"You shouldn't be here," he said. "Strangers don't appear on this bridge. Not unless something's wrong."
His expression sharpened.
"For some reason… the world reacted to you."
Lita swallowed. "But… I wrote this world."
Juhoon frowned. "You wrote it?"
Lita froze. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.
He took another step toward her, eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean? Who are you really?"
Before she could answer, the sky flickered — like someone dragged an eraser across the stars.
A glowing line of handwriting appeared in the air:
"Rewrite begins."
Juhoon immediately pulled Lita behind him, protective.
The world around them trembled.
And Lita realized something terrifying:
She wasn't dreaming.
She wasn't imagining.
She was trapped inside her own script.
And someone — someone else — had started rewriting it.
.
CHAPTER 2 — The Man Who Shouldn't Exist
The sky ripped open like a page being torn from a book.
A streak of glowing ink curved across the darkness, twisting into a single sentence:
"Rewrite begins."
The words hung in the air like a warning.
The bridge trembled beneath Lita's feet, and she stumbled—only to feel a hand grip her wrist firmly.
Juhoon.
He pulled her closer to him without hesitation.
His expression remained calm, but his eyes sharpened as he scanned the sky.
"This isn't normal," he muttered. "Not even for our world."
Our world.
The phrase hit her chest like a punch.
Because this world was supposed to be fiction.
Her fiction.
The characters weren't meant to notice glitches, weren't meant to sense danger unless she wrote it.
But Juhoon—he was acting beyond anything she had planned.
"Stay behind me," he ordered quietly.
"I—I wasn't planning to run ahead," Lita whispered, but her voice shook.
The sky flickered again.
This time, it wasn't a line of writing.
It was a shadow.
A tall, hooded figure appeared at the far end of the bridge, their form blurry like an unfinished sketch. They didn't walk—they dragged across the bridge, like a corrupted animation.
Juhoon's arm moved slightly, blocking Lita from view.
"Who's there?" he demanded.
The figure didn't answer.
Instead, it raised an arm and pointed directly at Lita.
She froze.
Juhoon's jaw tightened. "You know her?"
The shadow tilted its head unnaturally.
Then—
A voice cracked through the silence, distorted and broken:
"Writer…"
Lita's heart stopped.
No one was supposed to know that.
Juhoon turned to her sharply. "What did he call you?"
"I—I don't know!" she lied.
But her trembling hands gave her away.
The shadow stepped forward—
The world glitched.
The lamps flickered.
The river beneath them turned static-gray.
Even Juhoon's face distorted for a split second.
Something was rewriting the world in real time.
"Get down!" Juhoon shouted.
The stone railing near them exploded into fragments, scattering across the bridge as if struck by invisible force. Juhoon grabbed Lita's hand and pulled her down, shielding her completely.
Her head pressed against his chest—she could hear his heartbeat.
Strong. Fast. Real.
He feels real… so real…
The shadow blurred, then vanished as if someone erased it with a cursor.
Silence settled around them again.
Juhoon released her slowly, though his hand lingered an extra second, as if making sure she was steady.
"Lita," he said, using her name for the first time. It sounded unfamiliar on his tongue—like he had never spoken it before.
"Did you know that thing?"
She shook her head. "No. I swear I don't."
Juhoon studied her face. His eyes weren't cold—they were searching.
"Earlier," he said quietly, "you said something strange. About writing this world."
Lita's throat tightened.
She couldn't tell him the truth.
The world would collapse. She knew this rule—she wrote it.
Juhoon took a step closer.
"Tell me who you really are."
She backed away unconsciously, her heels hitting the edge of the bridge.
"I… I'm not supposed to be here," she said softly.
Juhoon's expression changed—not anger, not suspicion.
Something more dangerous.
Curiosity.
"So the world summoned you," he said.
She blinked. "What?"
He looked over the bridge, into the glitching horizon.
"A stranger appears the same night the sky rewrites itself… and a new enemy shows up calling you 'Writer.'"
He turned back to her, eyes focused—sharp, intelligent.
"You know more than you're telling me."
Lita's heart beat faster. She didn't want him to hate her.
He was the character she loved the most—her creation.
But now he was standing in front of her, alive.
Real.
"Juhoon…" she whispered. "I can't explain yet."
He didn't look angry.
Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustration showing for the first time.
"Fine," he said. "Then until I figure out what's going on…"
He stepped closer.
"You're staying with me."
Lita's eyes widened. "W–What? Why?"
Juhoon looked straight into her eyes.
"Because someone out there is trying to erase you."
Her breath hitched.
"And whether you trust me or not," he added, "I'm the only one who can protect you right now."
The wind blew across the bridge, carrying leaves and glimmers of glitching light.
Lita suddenly realized something terrifying yet strangely comforting:
Juhoon wasn't following her script anymore.
He was making his own decisions.
And he had chosen her.
.
CHAPTER 3 — "THE UNWRITTEN MOMENT"
Han Lita's breath caught as Juhoon grabbed her wrist.
Not harsh… just firm enough to stop her from walking away.
"Wait," he said quietly.
The hallway was empty now. Their footsteps still echoed in the air, and Lita could feel her heartbeat louder than anything else.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
In her script, Juhoon never touched her until much later.
"Why did you react like that earlier?" he asked, eyes studying her face as if trying to read a hidden page.
Lita looked away. "I didn't react."
"You did." His voice was calm, but certain. "You looked scared."
Scared?
Because she knew every twist in this story…
But the characters were starting to do things she never wrote.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
Juhoon's brows pulled together slightly. "You don't feel fine."
Lita froze.
Why was he noticing everything?
In the script, Juhoon was slow to feelings, almost clueless.
But this Juhoon… was sharp. Observant. Almost protective.
"I just need some air," she said softly.
Juhoon let go, but only after a second too long—like he didn't really want to.
"Then I'll go with you."
Lita blinked. "You don't have to."
"I know." He slipped his hands in his pockets. "But I want to."
And again—another line she never wrote.
Juhoon never said want in the original story.
Everything was supposed to grow slowly, confusedly, awkwardly.
But this Juhoon was changing.
They stepped outside into the quiet courtyard.
The wind was cool, brushing against Lita's hair.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Juhoon turned slightly toward her.
"You know… ever since yesterday, you feel different."
Lita's heart dropped.
Different.
Because she wasn't the Lita of this world.
"I don't mean it in a bad way," he added quickly. "Just… you don't seem like someone who belongs here."
Lita's breath hitched.
He wasn't supposed to say those words.
That line never existed in her script.
And yet the world had spoken it out loud.
"Juhoon," she whispered, "you're acting strange."
He let out a small laugh. "Maybe. But only around you."
Lita slowly took a step back. "Why?"
The look he gave her made her chest tighten—a look she never wrote for him.
Gentle. Curious. Almost… drawn to her.
"I don't know," he said. "And that's what scares me a little."
Juhoon wasn't supposed to feel scared of anything.
But this world… was rewriting him.
And Lita didn't know if that made things better or worse.
Before she could answer, someone's voice echoed from behind them.
"Lita."
She turned and saw Minjae — the second male lead she had written.
Charming, friendly, annoyingly confident.
He wasn't supposed to appear until Chapter 5.
But here he was.
Standing in front of her.
Smiling a little too warmly.
"You… don't remember me?" he asked.
Lita's stomach dropped.
Minjae wasn't supposed to say that either.
The world wasn't following her script anymore.
It was pulling her deeper into a story she no longer controlled.
.
CHAPTER 4 — "THE END I NEVER WROTE"
The courtyard was quiet when Lita stood up.
She had been running from the truth since the moment she woke up in this world, but now… everything felt clearer. The characters had changed. The story had changed.
And she had changed the most.
Juhoon walked toward her slowly, his steps soft, his expression calm but full of something deeper.
"You're leaving," he said quietly.
Lita froze. "How do you know?"
He looked down for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Because," he said softly, "every time you look at this world… it feels like you're looking at something borrowed. Something temporary."
Her chest tightened.
He stepped a little closer—careful, gentle.
"I don't know who you were before this," he continued. "But I know one thing."
Lita blinked. "What?"
"You never belonged to the script," he said. "You belonged to yourself."
Her breath caught.
That line wasn't in her story.
She never wrote anything like that.
Juhoon looked at her with soft eyes.
"And maybe… I wasn't written for you," he added quietly. "But somehow, I still ended up choosing you."
Lita's heart squeezed.
The wind blew around them. The courtyard felt brighter, lighter, almost glowing.
Behind them, Minjae stepped out from the hallway—hands in pockets, eyes gentle.
"So you're going back?" Minjae asked.
Lita nodded slowly. "I think I have to."
He gave a small, sad smile. "Then at least leave without fear. You gave us more life than we ever had."
Mira appeared next, standing by the door with her usual sharp expression softened.
"You changed the whole story," Mira said. "In a good way."
Lita felt her eyes sting.
This world wasn't breaking.
It was letting her go.
Juhoon stepped closer again, but this time, he didn't grab her hand.
He didn't stop her.
He just looked at her with quiet warmth.
"Will I remember you?" he asked softly.
Lita swallowed hard. "I… don't know."
Juhoon nodded, as if accepting something bigger than both of them.
"Then I'll still try," he said. "Even if it becomes just a feeling."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"Juhoon—"
He shook his head gently.
"You don't need to say anything. Just know this… you didn't ruin the story."
He smiled—a small, soft, real smile.
"You saved it."
Lita felt the world blur.
Light swirled around her—warm, soft, pulling her home.
Before everything faded, she heard one last thing:
"Lita," Juhoon's voice whispered, "live your story. The real one."
And then—
Everything went white.
☆☆ FINAL SCENE — REAL WORLD ☆☆
Lita gasped and sat up in her bed.
She was back.
In her room.
In the real world.
The script pages she had written were scattered on her desk—except they weren't the same anymore.
Whole scenes were rewritten in handwriting that wasn't hers.
Right on the last page, a new line glowed faintly:
"Some stories become real when the writer stops running from them."
— Juhoon
Lita smiled — a soft, emotional smile she didn't even know she had.
"They remember me…" she whispered.
She closed her notebook gently.
"And I'll remember them too."
Her story wasn't over.
It had just begun—
in the real world this time.
The end.