Paparazzi

(May 11th – 6:30 a.m.)

The silence in Jaeyi’s apartment was different that morning. Denser, heavier, as if the very air had molded itself to the day’s expectations. When the woman opened her eyes, the sky was still tinged with soft bluish and pale hues, a discreet dawn that perfectly matched the chilliness of her room.

Unlike usual, the singer didn’t need an alarm to wake up today. Ever since “Princess” had been released, Jaeyi had been sleeping very little — not out of regret or doubt over the early release of the single, but because her mind now seemed to work without any rest, day and night. With each news article, each murmur about the lyrics, each comment from fans and websites… the woman saw that this might have been her best move so far; everything was unfolding exactly as she had planned. And for the first time in a long while, something in her felt genuinely satisfied.

Still lying down, her eyes roamed the ceiling, her mind drifting between the press conference that would take place in a few hours and the only person she truly wanted to say something to — the only person who seemed to really matter in the midst of all this. Thoughts of her kept flooding Jaeyi’s mind at every moment.

Had Seulgi listened to it?

Of course she had.

Had the actress understood?

Jaeyi wanted to believe she had.

With a slow sigh, Jaeyi finally got up, walking barefoot to her bedroom balcony. As she opened the door, the fresh morning air hit her skin, giving goosebumps to her bare arms. The city was just beginning to awaken, the first sounds of traffic starting to echo through the streets below. The ever-busy capital seemed ready to begin yet another hectic day. But none of that mattered. The only awakening that mattered today was the one the press conference, just a few hours away, would trigger throughout most of the country.

And Jaeyi knew what she had to do.

She knew what she needed to say in order to finally reach her ultimate goal with all of this.

But the woman also knew what she couldn’t say.

Not to that many people.

The singer had never been a weak person. She had never let the media bend her, never allowed the spotlight to consume her true essence.

But this time, something felt different. Something that made her stomach churn slightly, in a subtle unease she hated to admit existed. Because deep down, this wasn’t just any press conference. It was a chess game. And Woo Seulgi was the only piece on the board that mattered.

Would Seulgi understand what she was doing?

Would the other woman understand her objective?

Would she understand that none of this was meant to harm her — far from it — everything the singer had done until now had been with her in mind, with them in mind.

Jaeyi never wanted, never would want, to make her Princess’s life harder. In fact, she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if she ever did something intentionally hurtful to the other woman. The main goal behind everything that would unfold starting today wasn’t to expose Seulgi to the world, no, Jaeyi would never be the one to do that. What the singer wanted was just to… stir things up, to make the actress move on her own.

Pensive, the woman closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself to feel the tide of emotions that, no matter how controlled it seemed, still existed and threatened to grow stronger with every passing second. Part of her wanted to do something now, in this moment — send a message, make a call, anything.

Because she felt on the verge of breaking. Cracking.

She wanted to hear Seulgi’s voice — her soft and melodic voice — even if only to hear a complaint, an accusation. Anything would be better than this eternal silence.

But that wasn’t part of the plan.

It was close, but it still wasn’t time.

Her final move was drawing nearer. And after waiting so long, a few more hours couldn’t hurt that much. She would endure.

She had to endure.

Jaeyi took a deep breath, straightening her thoughts, and pulled her shoulders back, returning to her always well-trained posture as she stepped back inside. She needed to get ready.

The show was about to begin.

***

(May 11 – 7:40 a.m.)

The sound of the alarm echoed through the silent room, the device trying to fulfill its daily mission, but it was of no use — Seulgi had already been awake for quite some time.

Lying on her side, eyes fixed on the ceiling, the actress allowed herself a few more minutes of total stillness and inertia before finally moving and turning off the alarm. Unlike the previous nights, during which she had barely slept, this time Seulgi had tried to maintain her old nighttime routine — the one she followed before everything around her seemed to turn upside down. And she had managed to do that, but it didn’t mean she was able to ignore the weight that today carried.

May 11th. The day of the much-discussed press conference.

Stopping her movements again, the actress just stayed there, staring into nothing, feeling the numbness of the morning slowly dissipate as her mind began working at a faster but uncomfortably irreversible pace. The discomfort she had been trying to suppress since the previous night came back in full force, hitting her hard.

Seulgi didn’t want to think about the press conference. She didn’t want to think about Jaeyi.

But it was impossible to avoid.

With a heavy sigh, she sat on the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor of the room. It was still a bit dark outside, the sun still threatening to come out from behind the many clouds that covered the sky on that chilly morning, which gave her a fleeting feeling that she could prolong the moment, the silence, just a bit more. But her phone, on the bedside table, vibrated incessantly — messages, notifications, missed calls, giving her no choice but to get up.

Frustrated, she ran her hands over her face, brushing aside the stubborn strands of hair that kept falling into it, before picking up the device. And as expected, the screen was already flooded with notifications.

Messages from friends, industry colleagues, among many others, but it was the messages from Minji and Kyung that truly caught her attention amid all the rest.

Kyung-ie: “Good morning, Seul. I know Jaeyi’s press conference is today. How are you?”

Minji unnie: “Darling, good morning. Let me know as soon as you get to the company, and please, don’t be late.”

Both women seemed to be the only ones truly concerned about how she was really feeling, and as much as that genuinely made the actress happy — to see that two of the most important people in her life over the past few years seemed ready to support her if necessary — she wasn’t in the mood for conversations this early in the morning.

So Seulgi locked the phone, choosing not to reply for now.

She didn’t want to deal with that right now. Because she knew that when the afternoon came, that topic would have already consumed her completely, up to her neck, and ignoring it would no longer be an option.

So why not enjoy this moment now?

Getting out of bed, she headed toward the bathroom, trying to go through her standard morning care routine, executing it in an almost automatic and mechanical way, as she always did before any important commitment.

But no matter how hard she tried, she found it impossible to ignore the knot forming in her stomach with each passing second. And while brushing her teeth in front of the mirror firmly fixed above the sink, she raised her eyes and allowed herself to look.

And was met with the image of a still somewhat sleepy Seulgi. Small eyes, a slightly crumpled face from sleep, and slightly disheveled hair — all normal for someone who had just woken up — but what unsettled her wasn’t anything about her appearance reflected back at her, but rather the kind of look on her face. Fearful. Unstable.

Seulgi was hesitant.

She wanted to believe she was handling all of this calmly, that she was more at peace with everything after the last meeting she had with her team — a team that seemed ready to navigate and ease any scenario that might unfold from the press conference happening in a few hours. She wanted to believe that Jaeyi’s press conference might not have that much impact, that it could just be another standard press event singers held before launching an album in their careers. Nothing major, and any rumors would soon dissipate once again.

But the reflection in front of her told a different story.

Her gaze was heavier. Her face, tenser. And no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t shake the memory of the previous night — the video announcing today’s press conference, where the singer appeared far too calm, too serene. The way Jaeyi had looked at the camera, the way she spoke normally, without showing any sign of nervousness or excitement. All of that still gnawed at Seulgi’s mind.

Feeling like the only one of the two who was undeniably affected — it was hard. But since there was nothing she could do about it, pushing all those feelings down seemed like the easiest thing to do.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to get back to her routine.

The beginning of the morning dragged on. Every little task — getting dressed, putting on makeup, doing her hair, slipping on shoes, eating something — seemed to take more effort than it should have.

When she finally left the apartment, ready to head to the company as planned, it was already past 8:30.

The ride to Unlimited’s headquarters was quiet, interrupted only by the light, constant vibration of her phone in the pocket of her coat.

At 9 a.m., Seulgi walked through the door of the huge building, striding down the company’s hallways with firm steps, though inside, she felt more hesitant than ever.

When she reached the conference room door, she could see that her entire team was already there. Looking through the glass, the actress noticed that everyone present seemed focused on every movement — either reviewing various reports and graphs projected on the large wall screen or checking their computers and phones with seriousness written all over their faces. Quiet conversations could also be heard — they seemed prepared to follow the press conference meticulously, with the critical eyes the situation demanded.

As soon as she entered the room, the woman caught the attention of a few people, including Minji, who looked up from her tablet, offering a small smile as she stood from her chair and walked over to her, holding a thermal cup in her hands.

“Here.” The manager was the first to speak as she stood directly in front of the younger woman, extending the large, metallic-looking cup toward her.

Seulgi blinked, surprised, before taking the cup. The sweet and familiar scent gave away the drink before she even looked inside.

“Hot chocolate?” A small smile appeared on her face as she realized what it was.

“Just like I promised. I thought a special dose of my chocolate might sweeten and maybe even ease your day a little,” Minji replied simply, crossing her arms as if it were nothing, though her eyes still sparkled with a playful glint, as if she were waiting for her friend’s reaction to the clearly affectionate gesture.

Seulgi lowered her gaze to the cup in her hands, feeling the pleasant warmth against her fingers.

And that same warmth seemed to spread through her entire body until it settled in her heart — a heart that now felt completely overwhelmed and pulsing at the gesture of her friend.

Moved, Seulgi suddenly felt an almost uncontrollable urge to cry, to fall apart in front of everyone present — not because she was sad, quite the opposite. After all these exhausting and turbulent weeks, this felt like the first time the actress truly felt supported, seen, and most importantly, loved.

Minji hadn’t asked how she was. She didn’t need to. She hadn’t tried to force a conversation. She had simply given her something she thought Seulgi might need at that moment — something warm and sweet to hold and sip as the inevitable morning unfolded before them.

And oh, how right she was. 

Seulgi didn’t thank her out loud, and maybe she didn’t need to. The simple act of raising the cup to her lips and taking a long sip, letting herself melt into the delicious taste of the chocolate her friend had prepared, followed by a soft appreciative hum, already seemed enough for Minji to understand she had done something good for the actress — whose expression was now visibly more relaxed than when she had entered the room.

And watching the slight shimmer in her friend’s eyes as she took another generous sip, Minji knew the actress had understood the message she wanted to convey.

She would be there for her today — and for as long as she needed.

Breaking the brief moment of comfort, the manager nodded toward the conference table, signaling for the actress to follow and take her seat, as everything was about to begin. And with a little luck, everything would go well.

Now seated in their places, like most of those present who were also settling around the table, both women looked toward the large screen in the center of the room, where a small clock appeared to be counting down to the live broadcast of the press conference.

Taking a deep breath and another sip of the hot chocolate in her hands, Seulgi tried to calm her tense nerves.

There were only a few minutes left until what might become the beginning of her end.

There were only a few minutes left until she would finally see Jaeyi again.

***

Standing in front of the double doors that separated the hallway from the crowded room on the other side, Jaeyi took a deep breath, keeping her face impassive as she adjusted the cuffs of her shirt beneath the flawless burgundy blazer. And, glancing at the expensive watch on her wrist, the singer hummed softly. Nine forty-five, just one more minute.

Camera flashes from the other side flickered under the wooden door of the conference room, casting distorted silhouettes on the surface of the well-polished ceramic floor. Beside her, her manager, Kim Hyeon, was speaking in a low but firm voice to the rest of the team who would accompany her throughout the press conference, including the night’s mediator, who would be responsible for managing and controlling the questions directed at the singer, to avoid any inconveniences that might arise.

And although the woman beside her was going over the main points of the conference and the expected direction it should take, the singer wasn’t among those listening closely to Hyeon. She didn’t need to be, actually.

Because Yoo Jaeyi knew exactly what she was doing there.

As soon as the doors opened, a rising murmur filled the room. Reporters leaned forward, microphones were raised, and cameras adjusted in her direction. Jaeyi, however, walked in unhurriedly, yet with firm steps, confidence radiating from every movement. The smile on her face was small, restrained, but perfectly calculated.

Nothing in her posture suggested hesitation.

Taking her seat at the center of the table, a microphone was perfectly positioned in front of her. Hyeon settled beside her, stacking a few papers that likely held prepared answers for potentially sharp questions. But Jaeyi didn’t think she’d need them — she could handle herself just fine and didn’t like following scripts. She preferred to go with the flow of interviews and conversations.

She didn’t expect today to be much different from what she was already used to.

The singer raised her gaze, scanning the crowd of journalists and photographers in front of her. She wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, just checking who was present, and she confirmed it — the room was full, with major networks and media outlets having sent representatives. Perfect.

Meeting their eyes, faces filled with anticipation studied her, waiting for any word, anything to signal the start of the conference.

But she wasn’t in a hurry. This was her arena, and she knew exactly how to own it.

The camera flashes now lit up the room like a storm after a slight nod from the mediator, allowing the photographers to capture shots of the singer already in position. The constant movement of photographers, the hurried whispers between journalists, and the muffled sound of fingers quickly typing potential questions into their phones, this was all part of an atmosphere Jaeyi knew all too well.

Lifting her chin subtly, maintaining impeccable posture, and adjusting the microphone in front of her with an almost absent-minded glide of her fingers, the singer prepared to speak, now just waiting for the silent cue from the cameramen that they were live.

Since stepping up to the platform she was now seated at, her mind had been switching between two layers: the Jaeyi everyone knew — calculated and confident — and the Jaeyi only a privileged few had the pleasure of knowing, the one whose heart was now pounding against her ribs and fingertips tingling with anticipation.

Looking to the side, she caught a glimpse of a team member raising a thumb, followed by five fingers. It was done, they were going live in five seconds.

She knew exactly what would happen from that point on. She already imagined the types of questions that would come, the sharp and perceptive gazes from the reporters in front of her, searching for the slightest crack in her posture or expression. Eager to catch signs she might give away without uttering a single word.

And she knew, above all, that wherever she was, Seulgi would be watching everything.

And with that thought in her mind, the singer heard a soft “now” whispered beside her by her manager.

It was 10 o'clock.

They were live.

***

The digital clock in the corner of the table read 9:55 a.m. when Seulgi finally put her phone down on the meeting table. The screen still showed the last message she’d received from Kyung: “Let me know if you need anything.”

She replied with a simple “Okay, thank you.”

Unlimited’s main meeting room was crowded. Executives, advisors, her team, and manager — everyone seemed to be waiting for the broadcast to start as if it were a high-risk event. And maybe it was.

The big screen in front displayed the countdown from Jaeyi’s official YouTube channel, which would be the main platform for today’s live broadcast. Just five more minutes until the start of the press conference.

Feeling restless, Seulgi crossed her arms, only to uncross them moments later, now resting her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen, trying to ignore the fact that with each passing second she could feel every muscle in her body growing more tense, the tension overtaking her entire being, as if her body was preparing for some inevitable impact.

“Are you okay?” Minji’s low voice asked.

“Yes.” Her response came automatically, straightforward.

Beside her, Minji sighed but didn’t press further.

In silence, the actress placed an empty cup of hot chocolate on the table, pushing it slightly toward her friend, who responded with a small grateful nod.

On the screen in front of her, the countdown hit zero.

The broadcast began. And the image of Jaeyi seated at the center of a platform, with some of her team members beside her — including Hyeon, seated at her right — appeared on the screen.

Seulgi held her breath.

The singer looked, as always, stunning and powerful, seated behind a white table with her label’s logo in the background. Her posture was impeccable, her hair perfectly aligned, and the makeup adorning her face was flawless.

But it was the expression on her face that truly caught Seulgi’s attention — confident, almost nonchalant, as if she knew she was in complete control of the situation. As she always seemed to be.

The actress’s heart gave a small, uncomfortable jolt in her chest.

And it didn’t take long for Jaeyi’s voice, carried through the slight crackle of the microphone, to fill the meeting room and silence any lingering whispers.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” Her voice came out firm, with no hint of nervousness. “Thank you for being here today. Your presence means a lot to me.”

The sound of camera flashes firing in the other room filled the space where the actress sat. And after a brief commotion of many voices pleading to be heard, the moderator pointed toward a reporter from a major network, allowing him to speak.

Given permission, the first question came almost immediately. The journalist adjusted his glasses nervously before finally speaking.

“Yoo Jaeyi, I believe you’re aware that this album is one of the most anticipated releases of the year. And if I may ask, could you tell us a bit about the inspiration behind it?”

Seulgi watched the singer tilt her head slightly to the side, pretending to ponder. It was clear she had expected that kind of question, but it was typical of the woman to tease and keep things mysterious.

“Ben, each of the 16 tracks on this album tells a story,” she began, her voice carefully measuring every syllable that left her mouth. “Stories that, in some way, represent me, some of which I dare say shaped me into the person I am today.”

She paused, her fingers lightly gliding across the table. “What I can say with certainty is that this is undoubtedly my most personal and intimate work so far.”

Camera flashes exploded once more, trying to capture even the slightest change in her expression. But she kept her gaze steady — as Seulgi knew she would — even when the next question came, this time from a reporter in the back, sounding direct and almost inevitable.

A question that made the blood in Seulgi’s body, watching from afar, run cold.

“Based on the single released separately early yesterday morning, Princess,the lyrics in this new album seem to carry much more intense emotions than what you’ve conveyed in your previous songs. And, please, correct me if I’m wrong, but some of them appear to be linked to some kind of past relationship, Princess, for instance. Is there another song that specifically refers to someone?”

Jaeyi’s lips curved into a discreet smile at the question, but the actress caught it — and she knew what that small gesture meant.

Jaeyi wouldn’t answer directly.

At least not to that question. Anyone there thinking the singer would make it that easy was foolish.

“What can I say about that?” Jaeyi seemed slightly puzzled as if formulating a response. Then, continuing, she said:

“I believe that everyone who listens to this album will interpret it in their own way. Some will see it that way, but there may be others who don’t interpret it like that. After all, music is art, and all art can be subjective, adapting to its viewer — in this case, the listener — depending on the state they’re in when they experience it.”

Her answer was subtle, ambiguous, but observing the singer’s body language, even through the screen, the actress could understand the real meaning behind her words. The singer hadn’t completely denied that there might be a certain someone those songs were about — she simply hadn’t answered yes or no directly, and that frustrated the reporter who had asked the question. Probably thinking she had struck gold, the woman only nodded at the singer’s reply, sat back down, and passed the mic to her colleague beside her, who was next to address Jaeyi.

“Miss Yoo, you just mentioned that the album you’re about to release contains 16 tracks, but so far we only have a deeper understanding of one. Could you present or at least explain what we can expect from the others?”

This time it was an older reporter holding a mic with the logo of the country’s biggest TV network who asked.

Seulgi was growing increasingly surprised by the level of coverage this press conference was receiving. Because even though Jaeyi had been extremely well-known across the country for nearly a decade, the actress didn’t think any musical announcement — not even hers — had ever received this much public and media attention.

On the screen, Jaeyi slightly leaned forward, seeming to absorb the question, and a controlled smile appeared on her lips.

“Yes, of course. Let’s see what I can reveal without giving any spoilers.” The singer joked, smiling broadly, raising and lowering her eyebrows. The gesture sparked a brief soundtrack of half-suppressed laughter among those present, easing some of the tension that had lingered in the air since the last question. “Alright, let’s see. As I said, the album contains sixteen tracks, and I can affirm that each one represents a piece of me.”

She leaned forward a little more in her chair, resting her arms on the table and getting closer to the microphone.

And without realizing it, Seulgi mimicked the same action, mirroring the singer’s movements with her own body. Like a reflection in a mirror — except while the woman on the other side of the screen did it to answer more comfortably, the actress found herself doing it as if this simple act could bring her closer to Jaeyi, as if doing so would help her better understand what was going on in the other woman’s mind.

“The first track of the album was titled ‘Labyrinth’. It opens the record with what I like to call a good introduction to the atmosphere that the songs carry throughout the whole album, only in a crescendo. Next is ‘April Flames’,which I consider to be one of the most… melodramatic tracks on the album. In third place comes ‘Bite’, followed by ‘False Redemption’ and, of course, ‘Princess’, which I’m sure everyone here has already listened to.” The woman ends her musings with a subtle wink toward everyone in front of her, which once again draws laughter at her little provocations.

Jaeyi didn’t need to ask, she knew. Everyone there had heard ‘Princess’; otherwise, they wouldn’t look so curious as they listened to her talk about some of the other singles.

Still seated in the same position since the press conference began, Seulgi feels the muscles in her shoulder and neck stiffen upon hearing the title of that song again, but she has no time to process it, because Jaeyi continues listing a few more tracks after noticing the silence in the conference room, as if no other reporter had the courage to ask another question without her fully responding to the one posed earlier by the older reporter.

“More? I think you’re more anxious than the fans themselves,” the singer jokes, and once again sounds of laughter, this time warmer and louder, filled the room. Someone even shouted, “Who said we’re not fans too?” — which only made the laughter heard through the speakers on the big screen in front of Seulgi even more intense.

And the actress began to feel a slight tremble in her hands resting on the table.

How was Jaeyi managing to handle all of this so… casually?

Making jokes, throwing little winks toward what should be her biggest fear at the moment — the crowd of reporters and cameras seemingly observing her intently, watching every small and subtle movement as if trying to dissect her.

And on top of that, she made them laugh, like, three times so far?

What?

The actress swears that with each passing day, understanding Jaeyi feels harder and harder for her. Was the singer changing right before her eyes?

Eyes that were now so distant, they could no longer follow every little change in her being?

Not wanting to get lost in those kinds of thoughts now, the actress subtly shook her head from side to side, pushing those thoughts away from her mind, just in time to catch the laughter dying down on the other side of the screen, as the other woman began to speak again:

“There are also titles like ‘Midnight Sun’and ‘Between the Teeth’ more toward the middle of the album. And, to close it out, I gave myself the freedom to try a few new things by writing singles like ‘Addiction’, ‘Venus in Flames’, and ‘Relapse’. Like I said, this is the most intimate album of my career, so I thought trying something new could be exactly what I needed in this era. So, I truly hope you all enjoy the songs as much as I enjoyed composing and planning each of them.” The singer concluded, now looking directly at the camera in front of her.

And Seulgi knew the woman had probably done that to give her fans watching live the impression that she was speaking directly to them—but even so, the actress couldn’t shake the growing feeling deep inside her that the end of that speech and, especially, the intense look the woman gave the camera, hadn’t been directed at the audience.

She was lost. Definitely.

But while the other side of the screen — Jaeyi’s side — seemed to erupt in a cacophony of voices pouring out pleas and desperate calls for attention, all hoping to be the next to have the honor of extracting any other detail from what now seemed to be The Album of the season…

On the other side of the screen — Seulgi’s side — there was only silence. A tense and apprehensive silence, in which it felt like all eyes in the room were on her.

Beside her, even Minji seemed to have held her breath for a moment, waiting for some kind of reaction from her friend.

A reaction to the name of a specific track, one that, by all indications, was going to cause as much of a stir as ‘Princess’ did when it was released.

And the actress wasn’t going to lie — she wouldn’t deny it — she knew that whatever the lyrics of that song said, it could very well make her lose everything.

Everything she had worked so hard to build for herself, for her career, up to this point. Or it could destroy — put the final nail in the coffin of — everything the two women had once been to each other.

And it didn’t matter which of those two things happened first, yes, first, because the actress knew that, given the situation they were in, all the bad things could happen to her. So, Seulgi knew she would lose her world, regardless of the outcome.

“Relapse…” the woman repeated softly, just loud enough for only herself to hear. Her chest tightened. That title, without a shadow of doubt, more than any other, hit her straight in the gut.

Jaeyi was still playing with her.

Only this time, it wasn’t anger she felt — it was sadness.

Doing her best to mask her visible discomfort and swallow the lump forming in her throat, Seulgi sniffled, turning her attention back to the screen in front of her, still glowing with the face of the one who was the cause of her downfall — in every sense of the word.

Woo Seulgi had fallen.

And knowing Jaeyi as well as she did, the actress knew the singer would’ve loved for her fall to be as literal as possible — and right in front of her.

Damn Yoo Jaeyi.

Still on the broadcast, Jaeyi maintained a neutral expression, but in her eyes, something was shining. A glint that only Seulgi could foresee. A challenge.

A warning.

A promise.

She would make Seulgi feel the same way she had felt when she was left behind.

But the thing was, by leaving her behind, the actress had lost herself too, because a part of her would always remain with the singer. And now, watching the way the woman on the other side seemed to be doing everything to appear enigmatic, to generate anticipation and curiosity in others without ever exposing the real truth, the actress found herself ready to admit that this woman still got to her.

Yoo Jaeyi still shook her.

The press conference continued. With Jaeyi answering skillfully, refusing to confirm or deny anything definitively. Still, every question, every insinuation, every meticulously calculated pause made by her interviewers seemed to be leading the press conference to a destination that, looking now, was inevitable, and the singer and her team should have noticed it by then. Everything seemed to revolve around the name Seulgi.

With each new question asked by a different person, the impression that the next one would be the questionhung like a heavy cloud over the singer and her team.

Noticing this, the actress who was watching it all couldn’t help herself, clenching her hands into tight fists on the table.

Even Jaeyi, who was always in control, seemed slightly nervous at the possibility. Her tone was flawless, her smile was in the right place, her words were chosen with precision. But Seulgi could see beyond the performance.

She saw the cracks.

The brief moment when Jaeyi wet her lips before answering. The fleeting glance to the corner of the table, as if looking for an anchor. The smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jaeyi was holding it in.

Seulgi should have felt relieved by that. Knowing that behind all that confidence, Jaeyi was still affected by her. But the effect was the opposite.

Because somehow, it made Seulgi feel even more exposed to her own feelings.

And that feeling was unbearable.

“Miss, excuse me, if you’ll allow me to speak, I’d like you to clarify something. There are rumors going around that Princesa, and possibly a few other songs on your new album, might have some kind of connection to actress Woo Seulgi. Do you have anything to say about that? Because I believe I’m not the only one curious here, just the only one brave enough to ask such a question.”

Silence.

Both spaces were silent now — both the hall where the press conference was being held, the camera flashes and previous murmurs now silenced, and the meeting room where the actress watched the interview unfold.

The atmosphere, which had been lighter and more relaxed after recent moments of laughter, was now tense.

And sitting in her chair, Seulgi could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes around her, turned in her direction. But the woman kept her eyes fixed on the screen, focused on finding out what the singer’s answer would be to such a direct, accusatory question.

On the other side, Jaeyi hesitated for a second, an almost imperceptible instant, but one that Seulgi immediately caught. She knew Jaeyi too well not to notice. The subtle shift of her gaze, the pause just a little too long before answering, and the way her fingers nervously slid over the base of the microphone in front of her.

The actress could see the singer’s face twitch slightly before she spoke, her smile once again perfectly intact.

The other woman didn’t avert her gaze anymore, and as if by magic, her face no longer showed any sign of hesitation as she answered:

“That’s an interesting interpretation.” Jaeyi smiled slightly, seeming to choose her next words carefully as she wet her lips. “I’m glad people are interpreting the songs in so many ways.” Her tone was calm, almost casual. “I think everyone can find their own meaning in my lyrics.” A small pause, before adding, “But I think some questions don’t need such direct answers.” The singer concluded.

And that was it… holy shit.

After a brief moment of almost uncomfortable silence, the conference room exploded in voices. Every reporter seemed to want to speak at once, all wanting to ask the next question.

Seulgi felt her throat go dry.

The final nail had been driven in.

Jaeyi had been ambiguous. Enigmatic. Just enough to provoke, to walk the line, but without revealing anything.

Not explicitly.

The room where the actress was also reacted the moment the singer’s response was picked up. Murmurs, rushed note-taking, expressions of anticipation and unease.

And still staring at the screen, staring at the woman on the other side of it, Seulgi was certain that this was exactly the effect Yoo Jaeyi wanted.

She kept her gaze on the reporters, as if daring them to dig deeper. As if daring them to insist on the topic. Her fingers slid slowly over the base of the microphone again, but this time, in a gesture different from before, not nervousness trying to creep across her features, but satisfaction.

The singer was satisfied with how everything had turned out.

Seulgi, on the other hand, didn’t think she could feel even remotely satisfied, even if she tried really hard.

The voices seemed to intensify around her, but the actress wasn’t paying attention. Her vision was blurry and her mind was somewhere else.

The fear of what would happen now that there had been no confirmation or denial of what had been claimed, imagined, loomed over her.

The world beneath her feet was disappearing.

Time was up.

Running was no longer an option.

She would have to face everything. The media, the fan

s, her company — and worst of all, she would have to face Jaeyi.

***

Jaeyi’s press conference was still echoing in Seulgi’s mind when the broadcast ended. The brief silence in the Unlimited meeting room was quickly replaced by the sound of frantic typing and tense whispers among advisors and team members.

Seulgi let out a long sigh, leaning back in her chair, eyes fixed on the now dark screen. The knot in her stomach tightened with every passing second.

“We need to act.” The firm voice of CEO Jun, her boss, broke the silence, reverberating through the room.

All eyes turned to him.

“Yoo Jaeyi’s press conference only worsened the speculations already made by the media,” the man began, then turned toward the actress. “Seulgi, the press is hungry for your response.” He slid a tablet across the table, its screen displaying countless headlines that seemed to multiply by the second, all talking about the latest information revealed in the press conference.

“Did singer Yoo Jaeyi hint at a supposed connection with Woo Seulgi in her new album?”

“Princess: a message to the ex? Experts read between the lines.”

“Yoo Jaeyi × Woo Seulgi. How long will the actress stay silent? What is Seulgi hiding about this?”

The press conference had ended not even ten minutes ago. The media truly was starving for more.

More gossip. More confusion. More.

Seulgi pressed her lips together, her throat dry.

“Then let’s deny everything.” Her voice came out rougher than she intended. She was nervous, she admitted it.

Minji, seated beside her, let out a quiet sigh but remained silent, allowing her to speak for herself.

The older man in front of her crossed his arms, assessing her.

“That’s not going to work. You already tried to ignore the situation before, but now it’s out of our control.” He paused for a moment. “We need something that completely diverts attention away from the two of you, something that causes more buzz and appeal, something that shows a more concrete situation beyond indirect messages in songs.”

The room went silent for a moment before he continued:

“We need a fake relationship.”

The phrase sounded almost casual, but a chill ran down Seulgi’s spine.

“What?” The actress blinked, stunned. “Sorry, I think I didn’t hear that right.”

“You and Kang Jiwon. As a couple.” Jun laced his fingers on the table as if his proposal were the most logical thing in the world. “He’s one of the company’s most respected actors, and his name has never been tied to any scandals. It’s a safe and effective plan.”

Seulgi blinked slowly, processing the idea.

Jiwon. Her friend.

They had known each other for years. They had worked together, traveled together, met each other’s families, laughed at the same jokes, shared stories. He really was trustworthy.

And for a second, Seulgi allowed herself to imagine.

For a moment, it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

A perfect relationship in the media’s eyes.

A beautiful couple in most people’s eyes.

No more rumors involving her and Jaeyi. No more doubts. No more memories from the past flooding her mind every hour. Just a clean, well-wrapped narrative involving her and an old friend.

It was easy.

Controllable.

But then, the memory of Yoo Jaeyi dedicating a song to her — maybe even an entire album — flashed through her mind like lightning.

The memories of everything they had once lived played before her eyes like a film.

The warmth of her voice in distant dawns. The taste of her name whispered between kisses. The intensity of the gazes they exchanged in intimate moments.

And more than anything, the emptiness that followed.

The emptiness that came with her leaving.

It was all her fault.

Not having her girl with her now — it was her fault.

The tightness in her chest was immediate.

Seulgi took a deep breath, her fingers tightening over the table.

“No.”

The word cut through the room’s silence like a sharp knife.

CEO Jun raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her rejection.

“No?”

Seulgi lifted her gaze, firm.

“No. I’m not doing this.”

The tension in the room seemed to spike. Some advisors exchanged discreet glances. Minji, beside her, looked away at her now-cold coffee on the table.

The refusal surprised everyone — but mostly the actress herself.

What the hell was she doing?

But before she could begin to mentally punish herself for her reaction, the man across from her, who had been watching her closely, did something that surprised everyone.

To everyone’s surprise, a small smile tugged at the corner of the CEO’s lips before he let out a slight nasal laugh, seeming satisfied with something.

Something the actress had no idea about as she stared at him, confused.

“Good.” The older man’s voice sounded again in the room, and it carried no trace of irritation. Quite the opposite. “Finally, an answer that doesn’t sound like a rehearsed script. I’m glad you’re finally saying what you really want, girl.”

Seulgi furrowed her brows.

She was truly confused.

Shouldn’t her boss be… angry at her clear disobedience of a direct order?

She didn’t understand, but fortunately for her, the man seemed to be in a good enough mood today to clarify a few things.

Leaning slightly forward, CEO Jun began to speak:

“Look, Miss Woo, I believe you have two choices now. We can keep pretending nothing is happening, or… we can tell the truth.”

A beat.

Her heart skipped a beat at the proposal. A chill swept through her body, raising goosebumps.

“What do you mean by ‘tell the truth’?”

“Expose everything,” he said, intertwining his fingers again on the table, now adopting a more serious posture before continuing. “If this story is already out there, if everyone is already speculating about these rumors, why not take control of it all? Why not end all the assumptions and gossip by speaking for yourself?”

Seulgi’s heart raced as the actress finally seemed to understand what her boss was suggesting.

To tell everything. The truth.

To be free of all the weight, all the guilt that had been eating her alive these past years. To be free.

“You’re suggesting that I… just… admit it?”

“I’m suggesting you make a decision.” CEO Jun held her gaze, his expression softer now. “But before anything else… I need you to resolve whatever unfinished business there is between you and Yoo Jaeyi. Our next steps in light of these events need to be calculated and well executed so that they don’t end up creating the opposite effect of what we want with the public. And for that, I need the singer and her team to be in agreement. I believe you understand why that’s necessary.”

Silence returned to the room, thick and heavy.

Seulgi swallowed hard before finally nodding toward the man.

She understood. Of course she did.

This was a complicated move — maybe the most complicated one they could take in light of all this — since everything would depend solely on how the public, both hers and Jaeyi’s, and the rest of the country, would react to something like this. A confirmation of all the rumors that had been heating up social media over the past month.

But even so…

Talk to Jaeyi.

Try to resolve everything after years of this game.

Just the thought of facing the other woman and reliving the past again made her stomach turn.

Because deep down, part of her knew that no matter how hard she tried to run away…

…this was exactly what she’d been wanting to do ever since she walked out Jaeyi’s apartment door years ago, l

eaving her behind after destroying her world — and her own along with it.

***

As soon as everyone was dismissed, Seulgi left the meeting room in a blur, her mind buzzing and still trying to process everything that had happened that morning.

The press conference, Jaeyi on the other side of the screen, the album, that question, the proposal…

The previously tense atmosphere, the pressure from the team, her boss’s sharp gaze, and the absurd proposal of a fake relationship — all of it, combined with the last strategy that had been offered to her, echoed in her head like a loud and nearly suffocating whirlwind.

And it was only when she found Kang Jiwon standing a few feet from the meeting room door, as if he had been waiting for her, that reality settled around her.

The man was leaning against the wall, displaying a relaxed posture that starkly contrasted with the storm raging inside her.

“So you said no.” Seeing the woman approach, Jiwon said with a small smile on his face, as if he already knew the answer before even asking the question.

Seulgi let out a tired sigh as she stopped in front of her friend, running a hand down her face.

“You already knew I’d say no, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “You’d never agree to something like that, especially not with me.”

Seulgi forced a humorless smile.

“And why not? Don’t sell yourself short, Jiwon, you’re kind of cute.”

The actress tried to joke, hoping to ease the tension still clinging to her shoulders.

But the man in front of her only let out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly before leaning in closer to the woman, his dark eyes full of a quiet understanding that almost made her shiver.

“That’s not it. I know I’m handsome.” Kang teased back, throwing her a wink that earned a nearly bored eye roll from his friend. But he went on. “The thing is, I just know you can’t lie when it comes to this, when it comes to her. I’ve known you too long, Seul.”

Surprised by her friend’s conclusion, the actress fell silent, staring at him.

And Jiwon didn’t push it. He simply stepped forward and lightly touched her shoulder, a gesture full of affection and understanding.

“I don’t know what was said in that meeting room, but it seems like it shook you enough to leave you a little dazed. But if you want my advice, just go fix this, Seul. Just… don’t take too long, or you might end up regretting it if you don’t act soon. I say this from experience.”

And with that, he stepped back, offering her a small, understanding smile before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Alone, the actress closed her eyes for a second and let out a shaky breath.

Jiwon was right.

But fixing this meant facing Jaeyi once and for all.

And facing Jaeyi meant opening up space for something she had been trying hard to keep locked away for a long time.

But you know what?

Screw it.

She had made up her mind — she wasn’t going to run anymore.

Determined, the woman began walking toward where she knew she’d find the person she urgently needed to talk to.

Hurrying through the company’s hallways, Seulgi soon found herself standing in front of her dressing room door, and she stepped inside, finding who she was looking for already there, absorbed in her work.

Sitting at the desk in the corner of the room was Minji, who barely looked up from the pile of papers in front of her when Seulgi walked in.

“I need to leave early.” The actress’s voice came out firm, breaking the silence in the room and catching the attention of her manager, who adjusted her glasses on her nose as she looked Seulgi up and down for a second before speaking, letting out a tired sigh, already knowing what her friend had in mind.

“Seulgi…”

“I know, okay?” the actress interrupted the older woman before looking away and concluding, “But I have to go. I need to do this, Min.”

A silence stretched between them. Minji knew her too well to not know that once Seulgi made up her mind, the only person who could stop her was herself. So the woman just closed the folder in front of her, set her glasses on top of it, and massaged her temples, letting out a long sigh before saying:

“Go.”

Seulgi nodded, grateful, already turning to leave, but stopped when she heard her friend speak again.

“And Seulgi…” Minji called, making her stop at the door and glance back over her shoulder. “Just don’t run away this time, okay?”

Seulgi paused, then blinked and answered:

“I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise right now.”

And with that, she walked out the door.

***

At first, Seulgi left the company with a clear direction in mind, but it didn’t take long for uncertainty to invade and take over her head, leaving her inevitably lost.

The streets of Seoul passed by in indistinct flashes of bright lights and tall buildings, as she now drove without a clear destination.

A song played softly on the radio, the engine hummed a little loudly, and the nighttime chill seeped in through the crack in the open window — but none of that made her feel any less lost.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Jaeyi since the moment she left the company, and it had already been four hours.

She thought about everything — the look on the other woman’s face during the press conference, the way her voice sounded too controlled, as if she were walking on broken glass without showing pain.

She thought about the past.

About what they had been.

About what they had lost.

Every memory felt like a thread pulling her into a bottomless pit, where all that remained was regret and unspoken desire.

Seulgi gripped the steering wheel tightly, her chest heavy.

She could simply drive to Jaeyi right now.

She could end all of this right now.

But when she turned the corner and caught the reflection of her own tired eyes in the rearview mirror, insecurity took over.

And then, without realizing it, instead of driving to Jaeyi… she drove home.

***

The apartment was dark when Seulgi walked in.

She didn’t turn on the lights.

She simply placed her keys on the table, took off her coat, and sank into the couch.

The silence around her was almost deafening.

The night, advancing with every passing minute, felt still — as if it were waiting for her to make a decision.

But all Seulgi did was reach for the forgotten bottle of wine on the coffee table.

She opened it, poured some into the glass in front of her, and took a slow sip, feeling the alcohol warm her throat.

It wouldn’t ease the weight in her chest — she knew that — but with luck, it might at least silence her conflicting thoughts long enough for her to think with a little more clarity.

Or at least that’s what she wanted to believe.

Time passed.

So much that she no longer knew how long it had been.

And the drink hadn’t been able to silence anything. Not even for a moment.

So, the woman just sat there in the dark, drinking in silence, trying — even if in vain — to organize her own feelings.

Without success.

It was only when she heard the front door opening that she realized she was no longer alone.

“Seulgi?”

Minji’s worried voice cut through the silence in the apartment.

Hearing it, the actress slowly turned her head toward the voice, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the faint light now coming from the hallway.

“Oh my God, Seul, what happened?” the manager asked, closing the door behind her and quickly walking over to where the actress sat on the floor.

Seulgi opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out — her mind was a bit slow.

The manager, who quickly noticed the state of her friend and the subtle scent of expensive wine in the air, sighed deeply before asking:

“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”

The actress let out a low, tired laugh.

“Just a little.”

Watching her closely, Minji shook her head in disappointment.

“Seulgi, look…”

But before the older woman could continue, the doorbell rang, drawing both of their attention as they exchanged surprised glances.

Giving the actress a brief look, Minji went to the door, and when she opened it, she was surprised to find Choi Kyung, who walked in without hesitation.

Even from near the door, Choi’s gaze went straight to Seulgi, and her expression immediately darkened with concern when she saw the state her friend was in — sitting on the floor, hair a mess, clearly worn down, with tear stains on her cheeks.

Turning to the manager, the younger woman asked, worried:

“What happened?”

“Well, I just got here too and found her like this,” the older woman began, casting a pitying glance toward the woman collapsed in the living room. “And I think... she…” Minji hesitated a bit before continuing. “She couldn’t go.”

The silence that followed her words was heavy.

Now aware that she was being watched by two pairs of worried eyes, Seulgi avoided their gaze, focusing instead on the empty wine glass between her fingers.

Then, suddenly seeming decided on something, Kyung walked toward her and crouched down in front of her.

“Seulgi-ie, look at me.”

Seulgi took a moment, but eventually obeyed, lifting her eyes to meet the woman now in front of her.

Kyung’s eyes were filled with a stern tenderness, a mix of concern and frustration — and that seemed to make the actress feel even worse. She was worrying the people around her, and she hated that.

But that didn’t seem to matter to her friend, who kept staring at her, as if analyzing her closely, wanting to be sure that the only wound Seulgi had was internal — in her heart. Something evident behind her devastated expression.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what happened, hmm?” Kyung asked softly, her voice low, as if afraid to scare the actress if she spoke any louder.

Gathering the courage to say what she had only been thinking all this time while sitting there on the living room floor, the actress cleared her dry throat and spoke in a trembling voice:

“What happened is th— that I’m a coward, Kyung.”

Surprised by her friend’s words, the woman crouched in front of her quickly rushed to speak her mind, almost indignant at the statement.

“What?! You’re not a coward, Seulgi!”

Seulgi didn’t reply.

And Kyung continued, firmly:

“I know you, and I’ve been your friend long enough to know you’re not a coward, far from it, Seul. You’re still the same girl who, despite all the negative comments from your parents and relatives about taking acting so seriously, to the point of getting scolded for not going to college right after high school, never gave up on your dream. And look where you are today!” She opened her arms, gesturing around the apartment as if to emphasize her words before continuing. “I know you well enough to know that right now… you’re just scared.”

Choi Kyung finished her statement in a whisper, watching her friend still sitting on the floor in front of her, head lowered as if trying to absorb her words.

Looking around the room, Kyung met Minji’s gaze — the manager leaning against the wall across from them, her eyes slightly teary as she watched the devastated state the actress was in.

Letting out a small sigh, the short-haired woman turned her attention back to Seulgi, whose body now trembled with small sobs as she kept her gaze downward, hair falling over her face and hiding the tears streaming down her cheeks. Determined to change the situation, Kyung, with a newfound firmness, gently placed her fingers under Seulgi’s chin and lifted it, making her look up and meet her eyes.

“But it’s okay to be scared, sweetheart. It’s normal to be afraid. We’re among friends here, Minji unnie and I just want what’s best for you. You can cry freely. It’s okay. We understand you.”

We understand you.

That seemed to be all it took for the actress to finally break down completely. As those words left her friend’s lips, she didn’t wait another second before throwing herself forward, collapsing into her friend’s arms. Kyung, initially caught off guard, quickly seemed to understand that this was exactly what Seulgi needed — and she held her tightly, whispering reassurances into her ear as she gently rocked them both side to side.

Sobs, now louder and stronger, no longer muffled by the actress, echoed through the room. Seulgi closed her eyes, allowing herself to nestle into her friend’s embrace, feeling another wave of tears gather as she heard the soft words of encouragement whispered to her.

Minji, still watching from where she stood, could no longer hold back her own tears, letting them roll freely down her cheeks, her heart aching as she watched her friend — someone she loved like a little sister — fall apart in front of her.

When the sobs began to fade and the tension in the room seemed to ease, Kyung, still holding the broken woman in her arms, spoke aloud again, drawing everyone’s attention, especially Seulgi’s, who now, calmer, seemed more open to hearing what her friend had to say about the whole situation.

"I might not know what you're going through, Seul, not really, but one thing I do know is that you're not a coward. And I also think you should take some time to think carefully about what you want to do, but I’m going to be honest now, I don’t think you should let that fear control you forever." Choi said, giving the actress a few calming pats on the back as Seulgi listened intently to every word.

"I just... I don’t know what to do."

"You do know. I know you do," Kyung said, holding one of Seulgi’s hands, which were gripping her hoodie. "You’re just trying to run from the answer. Run from yourself."

Seulgi’s breathing grew heavier in the face of the truth.

"Look, you’ve spent years building this career, overcoming obstacles that seemed impossible. You stood up to your family, to arrogant directors, to the ruthless press and the unrealistic expectations imposed by the media. You’ve always been strong, Seulgi. But now? Now you’re sabotaging yourself."

Her friend's words hit like a direct blow to the chest, making her tremble slightly. And for a second, Seulgi felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Maybe her friend was right. Maybe she just needed to... act.

And as if she could sense the subtle adrenaline still running through the actress’s body, Kyung said something that felt like the final push Seulgi needed to make her decision.

"And just don’t forget, I’m not trying to rush you or anything, but... don’t take too long, or you might end up regretting in the future something you didn’t do in the present."

A moment.

A click echoed in the actress’s mind.

She remembered hearing those exact words today... yes, that’s right — she’d heard them from Jiwon this morning when they spoke.

And just as Jiwon was right to say them, so was Kyung now.

She needed to act.

Now.

Before it was too late...

And then, suddenly, something inside her shifted. Adrenaline surged through her, and she stood up abruptly, startling both her friend — who still had her in an embrace — and her manager, now sitting on the armrest of the sofa, watching them.

Minji and Kyung watched her as she grabbed the car keys with a decisive motion.

"Seulgi?" Minji called out.

But she didn’t look back — too focused for that.

"I can’t keep running."

And then, with no trace of hesitation left in her posture, she walked out the door.

Already in the building's parking garage, the sound of Seulgi’s boots echoed through the empty space as she hurried forward, car keys in hand, seemingly determined to finally go see Jaeyi once and for all.

Minji and Kyung followed right behind, watching the actress with growing concern. Seulgi’s walk was slightly unsteady, and it was clear she was making a visible effort to stay focused on her path toward the parked vehicle.

As soon as she reached the car, the actress raised the hand holding the keys, ready to unlock the doors — despite her fingers trembling slightly — and Kyung was the first to notice it.

"Seulgi, hey, no!" Her friend’s voice was firm, leaving no room for protest.

Seulgi, now wearing a completely different expression from the tearful one she had just minutes ago — her face somber — looked at her as if already knowing what the woman was about to say, trying to ignore the frustration bubbling inside as she became aware of her own state.

"I’m fine, Kyung," Seulgi said in a low, insistent voice, not willing to give up so easily, not now that she finally felt ready. "I just need to talk to her. Please, try to understand."

But Kyung didn’t back down and stepped forward, blocking Seulgi’s path to the car, her face set with determination as she protested again:

"No, you’re not fine. You’re clearly not okay, Seulgi. You’re even drunk!"

The blunt truth sent a shock through the actress’s body, a harsh hit to the pride she barely had left.

Even so, Seulgi tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

"I drank a little, yes, but I’m in control. You don’t need to worry. Now, if you’ll excuse me..."

Her voice may or may not have wavered slightly as she said that, but still unwilling to budge on her decision, she tried to move her friend out of the way so she could finally get in the car — her body tenser than usual.

Minji, still silently watching everything, stood a step behind, eyes full of concern as she looked at Seulgi’s face. Her friend was clearly not in the best state, but she wouldn’t interfere. She knew Kyung was right.

"No, Seulgi. Stop!" Kyung stood her ground. "You can’t drive right now. Your head’s all over the place, and you know it. Stop being so stubborn!"

Seulgi pressed her lips together, frustration mingling with a sense of helplessness. She didn’t want to admit it — didn’t want to expose her vulnerability like this. She’d had enough of showing weakness.

"You don’t understand, I..." she tried to argue, but her voice broke, betraying her. "I just need to see her."

Kyung almost faltered but held firm, glancing over Seulgi’s shoulder and catching Minji’s gaze. The manager gave a subtle nod, supporting her. So Kyung kept insisting.

"You can’t go like this. You can’t drive like this." The short-haired woman paused, then her voice and expression, once firm, softened. "Seul, you’ve already been through so much. You’re not really going to risk driving in this state and making a reckless mistake, are you?"

Her words were like a reminder of who Seulgi truly was, a call back to herself. A reminder that no matter how desperate she was to fix everything tormenting her once and for all, she couldn’t take that risk. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t healthy.

But for a moment, she almost wished she could ignore everything and just hit the road. That desperate urge to fix things with her own hands, without thinking of the consequences.

However, when she looked into her friend’s eyes, she saw the genuine concern dancing there, and something inside her gave in. Sighing heavily, Seulgi looked first at Minji and then back at Kyung before finally stating, half-convinced to let go of that madness. Half.

"Okay. Then you take me to her." The words came out almost in a whisper, but even in her defeated tone, there was a spark of determination behind it all.

Kyung looked at her with empathy and understanding — she had convinced her of what mattered, and she knew she wouldn’t fight what Seulgi needed now.

With a slight nod, her friend gave her a small smile — not one of judgment, but of quiet support, offering what Seulgi needed in that moment.

"Let’s go, Seulgi," Kyung said softly, taking the car keys from her hand.

Seulgi walked around the car to the passenger side, shoulders heavy and her mind still in turmoil.

Already inside the car, both women settled into their seats, and as Choi started the engine, she turned to the actress, who was lost in thought beside her.

"Okay. Same place as always?"

Seulgi blinked.

She wasn’t sure. It had been almost a year since she last went to the singer’s penthouse, since... since her last mistake, she hadn’t gone after Jaeyi — not physically, at least.

Noticing the uncertainty on her friend’s face, the short-haired woman lowered the window and tried to get Minji’s attention. The manager was waiting for them to leave the garage so she could go back upstairs to the apartment and, as always, clean up the mess left behind. But she seemed absorbed in her phone, apparently caught up in a minor argument.

After waiting for a moment when the manager turned her gaze toward the car, the woman took the chance to mouth the question — just moving her lips — asking which direction they should take, trying not to interrupt Minji, who had her phone pressed to her ear and looked more stressed than at the beginning of the call. Whoever was on the other end was giving her a hard time.

Realizing the two women were still there, Minji moved her phone away from her ear for a moment and, once she understood what they were asking, simply replied:

"Yes, still the same way." Then went right back to her phone battle.

Now with the confirmation they needed, they drove toward the parking garage exit, with Kyung behind the wheel and an increasingly tense Seulgi sitting rigidly at her side.

Silence settled between them as the streetlights began to appear, flashing through the tinted windows.

They were driving with a clear destination in mind.

And Seulgi, more than anyone, knew that this was the right way back.

Back to where she never should’ve left.

***

As soon as the car stopped in front of the large mirrored residential building, located in one of the most expensive areas of Seoul, Seulgi found herself frozen in the passenger seat.

She had come too far tonight, she couldn’t back out now — she knew that — but knowing it did nothing to calm the storm forming in her head, or the tsunami of emotions gathering in her stomach, churning it.

Sensing her friend’s tension, Kyung gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch slightly, then gave it a firm squeeze, trying to assure her that everything would be okay.

‘Everything would be okay.’

And with that thought, after a heavy sigh, the actress finally got out of the vehicle, saying goodbye to her friend with a small, grateful nod as she made her way to the building’s entrance and entered through the visitors’ area, expecting to be asked where she was going.

But to her surprise, the gate in front of her opened with a loud click, allowing her to pass without a single question being asked.

Startled by this, she stepped through the gate, ready to curiously approach the doorman on the other side — only to be met by a man she knew well, who smiled gently at her.

Mr. Kim Joyeon, the doorman who always used to greet her when she used to come here years ago. It was good to know he still held his position — he was a kind and discreet man. And perhaps that was why he had allowed her in without asking further questions.

And Seulgi couldn’t be more grateful for that as she walked past him, giving a small respectful nod before heading straight to the elevator area, already familiar enough with the layout.

Standing in front of the large dark mahogany door, the actress took a deep breath before finally ringing the doorbell. The sound echoed through Jaeyi’s apartment, and Seulgi — breathing a little heavier than she would have liked — stood still for a moment in front of the door. She could have backed out, could have turned around and left, as she had done before, but something pushed her forward. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was the desperate urge to finally get an answer to everything that had happened recently. Whatever it was, there she was, about to confront the one person who still had the power to turn her world upside down.

In front of her, the door opened with a soft creak and, to her surprise, it wasn’t Jaeyi who answered. Instead, it was Kim Hyeon, Jaeyi’s manager, who greeted her with a tense but polite smile.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed under the older woman’s attentive gaze, the actress tried to say something, but was interrupted by the manager’s raised hand, stopping her.

“Seulgi, no need, okay? Minji already called me, and we talked about it, and even though I don’t entirely agree with this, I know you and Jaeyi have things to work out, so go on in. Jaeyi is home, in the kitchen,” Hyeon said, opening the door wider, giving space for the actress to enter. “I had just told Jae I was leaving as soon as I heard you were on your way up. So I’ll leave you two alone,” the woman said with a tired sigh, grabbing her coat and keys near the entrance. “I really hope you manage to fix all of this soon. Seriously, just… try, okay?” the manager finished, now with a friendlier tone, but the actress caught something more in her expression. The woman seemed tired, as if she were relieved to finally leave behind all the tension that had surrounded not just the two of them in recent years, but everyone important to them.

Seulgi figured she couldn’t blame her.

From her own experience, she knew how difficult both she and Jaeyi could be to deal with.

The actress made a mental note to thank her own manager later — Minji must have been feeling just like the woman in front of her.

Giving a polite nod in return, the brunette agreed and softly gestured her thanks for the woman’s understanding.

And with that, Hyeon quickly left, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. Alone, Seulgi stood in the hallway for a moment, feeling the weight on her shoulders gradually increase as reality sank in. She was here, she really was — after everything that had happened, she was in the singer’s apartment again. And even though she had previously been determined about what to do, now that she was finally about to act on the plan she had made during the drive over, there still seemed to be something holding her back.

Fear?

Tension?

Doubt?

The actress couldn’t quite name what she was feeling at that moment, but she had come too far to back out now.

So, Seulgi walked through Jaeyi’s penthouse with light steps and her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

The familiarity of the space, which had changed so little since the last time she remembered being there, made her feel strange. The walls, the furniture, everything remained basically unchanged.

But she…

She was no longer the same.

And she was certain that the other woman in this apartment wasn’t either.

The past weeks, the months, everything that had happened between them — things she thought were deeply buried inside her — seemed to have resurfaced all at once.

It was overflowing now.

Hyeon had left her with a brief, between-the-lines warning, “fix this,” and now Seulgi found herself alone with what was left of everything they once lived.

The door had closed behind the manager, but the weight of those words still lingered in her mind.

Fix it.

How could she fix something that had been broken for so long?

Walking slowly, the actress noticed the apartment was quiet, except for the soft sounds of something being prepared in the kitchen. Jaeyi was there, just as Hyeon had said.

As she got closer to the room, the smell that hit her nose was almost suffocatingly delicious — the food seemed simple, but it was unmistakably made by Jaeyi.

Seulgi walked down the hallway, her mind a whirlwind, but stopped for a moment at the entrance to the kitchen.

She didn’t know what she was expecting to find, but it certainly wasn’t that.

She hadn’t imagined seeing Jaeyi like that — so at ease, so... free.

The sight of the singer, still facing away from her, seemingly busy with some task in the kitchen, caught her off guard. The scene seemed so normal, so mundane, so everyday, that she felt as if the time they’d spent apart had never happened, as if fate hadn’t separated them.

But now she was there, stuck in a limbo between past and present.

Frozen.

Lost.

But when Jaeyi’s voice floated through the air — light and playful — everything finally seemed to make sense to her.

She had found herself.

She was exactly where she needed to be.

“Yah, unnie, staying for dinner?”

The singer hadn’t turned around yet and probably thought she was talking to Hyeon. But Seulgi couldn’t help herself and took a step forward, getting closer and closer to the other woman, who was still absorbed in her world, stirring something in a large steaming pot.

And when the singer finally turned, realizing she hadn’t received a response from who she expected to be behind her, and their eyes met — in a dance of who would look away first — the reality she was in truly hit Seulgi.

The image of a makeup-free Yoo Jaeyi, her hair slightly messy and loose over her shoulders, carrying all that confidence and effortless charm, hit her full force.

The walls around them, the distance between them, the past… everything seemed to disappear with one single look.

And unlike her, Jaeyi seemed completely at ease with her presence, as if the years hadn’t passed between them. She remained uncomplicated, as if nothing had changed.

But something had changed.

Everything had changed.

Seulgi swallowed hard, trying to process it.

Jaeyi looked so different, yet at the same time, so much like she had years ago. And that duality left her adrift.

How could she be part of this world again?

How could she take back everything she’d said?

How could she be like Jaeyi, appear light, when the whole world felt like it was weighing down on her shoulders?

***

To be honest, Jaeyi felt Seulgi's presence even before she appeared in the room. It was a familiar feeling, a kind of tension in the air that she knew well.

The singer had known something was off since the moment she decided to cook for them and her manager, who until then had planned to stay for dinner. But after a phone call that Hyeon insisted on taking far from her — something that wasn’t like her — and the older woman’s sudden decision to go home early, saying she couldn’t stay to eat, it was enough to leave Jaeyi suspicious.

Something was going on.

And the sound of the doorbell, followed by Hyeon saying goodbye to her with a quick kiss on the cheek while walking hurriedly toward the exit, only served to confirm that something was indeed happening.

And since it was the first time Seulgi had entered that apartment, knowing it was her trying to take light steps on the wooden floor wasn’t hard

And since it wasn't the first time Seulgi had entered that apartment, knowing that it was her trying to take light steps on the wooden floor, trying to go unnoticed, wasn't difficult.

Jaeyi knew Seulgi completely.

Even the sound of her footsteps, the way she walked.

But now, the situation between them was completely different from anything they had ever gone through in that same place.

The place that had once served as the stage for the collapse of everything seemed now to be becoming the stage for something bigger.

Something more anticipated.

More yearned for by Jaeyi.

She had planned everything.

Every step, every word she had said at the press conference earlier today, everything was part of a single plan.

To bring Seulgi there.

And apparently, she had succeeded.

Then came the question, seemingly casual, slipping from her lips without even a hint of hesitation:

“Yah, unnie, stayed for dinner?”

It made it seem like she didn’t know who was really behind her. But inside, the feeling of victory was already being savored.

The singer didn’t want Seulgi to come to her out of obligation or desperation. No. She wanted to see her give in, break the resistance. She wanted to see Seulgi make that decision for herself.

She wanted Seulgi to come to her because she wanted to — and nothing more.

And then, when she turned around and her eyes met Seulgi’s, everything became clear.

The feigned surprise on her face, and the slight hesitation still present in the woman standing before her.

The way she was still trying to stay in control, but was completely vulnerable in front of her. And with that realization, Yoo Jaeyi felt, for the first time in a long time, light.

She was fine. Because she knew exactly what was happening inside that mind.

Seulgi was still fighting against her own fears and doubts, still not fully accepting that no matter what she did, she would always be drawn back to the singer.

But that was okay, Jaeyi had no more doubts. She had succeeded.

The situation was unfolding exactly as she had planned, each piece falling into place. Seulgi was still trying to protect herself, but Jaeyi knew that sooner or later, she would have to give in. And when Seulgi’s gaze met hers that night, Jaeyi had to give it her all to hide the satisfied smile that threatened to appear on her face.

She had done the right thing.

She had made Seulgi follow the right path again.

The path to her.

And now, she would make Seulgi realize that too.