How cruel can fate be, to make two broken souls fall in love?
Morning came too soon in Nowon, a city that never softened for those who lived within it. The air was cold and gray, smelling of rain and forgotten promises.
"Get up, you lazy girl!" a harsh voice barked.
Cold water splashed on her face. Min Seol Ah shot up from the floor, drenched and trembling. For a moment, her chest burned from the shock, then her expression hardened, she wouldn't cry. Not again.
"Good morning, Mother," she said in a voice that tried to stay calm.
"Who is your mother, you stupid girl?" Seo Yoon, her stepmother, snapped.
"I'm sorry, ma."
"Better. Now go and finish the chores before work. If you don't, forget about breakfast!"
She turned and stomped out.
Seol Ah muttered under her breath, barely audible, "If breakfast is poison, I'll gladly forget."
Then louder, she said politely, "Yes, ma."
She got up, her hair dripping down her face, and walked into the inner room. The small space smelled of detergent and dust, but her movements were quick, efficient, a girl who'd learned to work faster than her anger could grow.
Even in that fragile space, she moved with quiet grace. Her tired eyes held a spark that refused to die. Her hands folded blankets, but her mind whispered: One day, they'll see what they lost.
Her stepsister, Min Na Ri, burst into the room with her usual fake pout and tossed a pile of dirty blankets at her.
"Make sure you fold these too and add them to the clean ones," she ordered, not even sparing her a glance.
One blanket hit Seol Ah's shoulder. She froze. Her fingers clenched the fabric, knuckles turning white.
For a split second, she wanted to fling it back to scream, to ask why they treated her like a servant in her own father's house. But she exhaled slowly, jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Sure," she said with a forced smile. "Anything else, Your Highness?"
Na Ri frowned. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," Seol Ah said innocently, folding the blanket with deliberate slowness.
Na Ri scoffed. "You're lucky Mom didn't hear that mouth of yours."
When she finally left, Seol Ah muttered, "If she did, I'd still survive. Like I always do."
By the time she finished cleaning the house, her back ached and her palms burned from scrubbing. She walked to the kitchen, stomach growling, hoping for a scrap of food, but the door was locked.
Everyone had gone out. Again.
She stared at the closed door, shaking her head. "You'd think starvation is their love language," she said bitterly.
Her reflection caught her in the dusty window, a young woman with fire in her eyes and shadows under them. She smiled faintly. "You'll eat later. Don't break yet."
Tying her hair into a bun, she slipped on her worn shoes and headed out.
The bus from Nowon to Itaewon took an hour and a half, and she stood the whole way, clutching the handrail as the bus rattled through traffic. Outside, Seoul glowed — so beautiful it almost mocked her.
When she finally arrived at the restaurant, the place was chaos. Orders flew, plates clattered, and exhaustion painted every corner.
Her manager's voice thundered before she could even breathe.
"Min Seol Ah!"
"Oh, I'm dead," she muttered under her breath.
"Good morning, sir," she greeted, forcing a smile.
"Good morning? Do you know what time it is?" he barked, eyes bulging.
"I'm sorry, sir. I missed the first express bus."
He slammed his palm on the counter. "And how is that my business? You think this restaurant runs on your excuses?"
Her lips twitched. She wanted to tell him his restaurant barely ran at all, but she swallowed it. "It won't happen again, sir. I'm sorry."
"It better not. Or you're fired. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," she said, bowing slightly.
When he stormed off, she straightened and muttered, "Maybe if you spent less time yelling and more time managing, we'd all be early."
Her friend Bae Ro Na nearly choked trying not to laugh. "Girl, if he hears that, you'll be serving customers from heaven."
Seol Ah smirked. "At least heaven feeds people."
Ro Na giggled, eyes glimmering. "You hear gossip? His side chick slapped him this morning. Said he didn't complete her 'monthly allowance.'"
Seol Ah raised a brow. "Ah, so that's why the restaurant smells like bruised ego today."
Before they could laugh again, a senior waitress yelled, "What are you two whispering about? Go change into your uniforms!"
"Yes, ma'am!" they chorused and ran off.
The morning rush hit like a storm, customers yelling, trays slipping, sweat clinging to every worker. But Seol Ah didn't slow down. Her movements were fast and sharp, her voice calm but firm. When a rude customer snapped at her, she smiled sweetly and replied, "Yes, sir. Right away," before muttering under her breath, "Next time, choke on your soup."
Her fiery tongue hid beneath her polite mask. Nobody saw it, but it was there, the defiance that kept her alive.
By noon, she finally caught her breath. Ro Na joined her at the counter, sipping water.
"Life would be so much easier if money grew on trees," Ro Na sighed.
Seol Ah smiled faintly. "If money grew on trees, people like us would still be asked to sweep the leaves."
Ro Na laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"Realistic," Seol Ah corrected.
Their laughter was brief. A fellow waitress rushed over.
"Seol Ah, Ro Na! You're both on night duty today. Manager's orders, for coming late."
"Ahhh! Can't he be lenient for once?" Ro Na groaned.
Seol Ah let out a sharp laugh. "Leniency doesn't live in this restaurant."
She untied her apron and retied it tighter. "It's fine. If I survive today, I'll survive anything."
Her tone was light, but her eyes said otherwise. There was fire there quiet, burning, unbroken.
They began preparing for the night shift, unaware that somewhere across the city, fate was already moving pieces into place.
Across Seoul, in the heart of Gangnam-gu, stood the penthouse of Lee Jae Hyun, 25-year-old billionaire and chairman of Lee Group.
Handsome, powerful, and dangerously arrogant, he stood before the glass window of his office, the city lights reflecting off his cold, unreadable eyes.
Behind him, a graceful woman's voice broke the silence.
"Son, what's wrong?"
He turned slightly. "Hello, Mom. Just thinking about the Babel Project."
Lee Bo Ra, elegant and commanding, stepped forward. "That's why you need to get married, Jae Hyun. Maybe then the shareholders will stop doubting you."
"Mom, enough."
"You can't run from it forever."
He exhaled sharply, voice firm. "I said no. I'm not marrying anyone. Not for business. Not for love."
The air thickened. Bo Ra crossed her arms, her tone softer now. "You're just like your father too proud to need anyone."
He didn't respond. He grabbed his phone instead. "I'll be in the meeting room."
When the door slammed shut, Bo Ra whispered, "What is wrong with this boy?"
Night fell.
In Itaewon, Seol Ah tied her apron, muttering, "If one more customer snaps their fingers at me, I swear I'll flip their table."
Meanwhile, in Gangnam, Jae Hyun adjusted his cuffs and stepped into his car, his friend, waiting to drag him to the most luxurious bar in Itaewon.
Two souls.
Two worlds.
One fighting to survive.
The other denying the existence of anything worth feeling.
Under the same Seoul sky, their paths moved closer
unaware that destiny had already written their collision in the stars.