The morning sun poured through my hotel window, warm and golden. After a short night's sleep, I felt refreshed and ready. Today was my first full day at the training camp, and my heart buzzed with excitement.
Carrying my bow bag, I stepped outside. The training center wasn't far from the hotel — a sprawling compound with banners fluttering in the breeze, flags of every participating country, and a field dotted with archery targets. Young athletes stretched, practiced, and exchanged greetings.
After practicing, I packed up my things, ready for some lunch. Suddenly, a voice called out:
"Hey! Can I join you?"
I turned to see a girl around my age, smiling nervously. "Of course!" I said.
Her name was Rachel, from Singapore. We walked along the streets together and spotted a small restaurant tucked in a corner. Inside, we struggled with the local language to order our food, mispronouncing every word. We laughed so hard I thought we might choke on our own giggles.
Over the meal, Rachel admitted shyly, "I'm actually a fan of yours."
I blushed furiously. "Oh, I'm not that good… hahaha."
She giggled and then whispered, "Look… a bunch of people are staring at our table."
I glanced up. She looked down, cheeks pink. You're too pretty to hang out with, she murmured.
I smiled. "No way. You're cute too — that's why people are looking at you."
We finished our meal laughing, feeling light and happy. I headed back to the hotel, feeling content, when — my heart skipped — I saw him again.
Masked. Silent. Unmoving.
I ran toward him, trying to hide my excitement. "Mask guy! Hi! We… we met again!"
He looked at me, his face unreadable, like he wanted to say something but didn't. I hesitated for a moment, then tried again.
"Do you… want to get some snacks with me?"
He didn't respond. Just stared at me with that unreadable expression.
Before I could say anything else, a loud voice shouted, "Yo, Ryul! We're here!"
I turned and saw four men walking toward us. Three were handsome, smiling confidently. The fourth looked older, more serious.
So… this was Ryul.
One of the younger men smirked at me. "Yo Ryul? Wow, what do we have here? Pretty girl! Want an autograph?"
I blinked at him. Was he joking? I wanted to ask Ryul what that meant, but he stepped in.
"You better eat your dessert yourself and grow taller," he said, his tone cold and then walked away with his friends.
I stood there, stunned. Dessert? Grow taller? My cheeks flamed, and my brain refused to process what had just happened.
Ryul. Unpredictable. Cold. Impossible. And somehow, impossible to forget.