Capital Letters
“Miss?”
“Huh?”
“Miss Jihyo?” The nurse repeated, and this time Jihyo reacted, snapping out of her trance. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Jihyo forced a smile. “I’m fine, sorry. Is everything ready?”
The nurse nodded, smiling at her and gesturing for her to follow. Without thinking, Jihyo complied, walking slowly down the white, sterile hallways in a near monotone rhythm. She sighed, breaking the silence that surrounded them.
“Have there been any changes since the last time I came?” Jihyo asked, her voice steady despite the anxiety swirling inside her.
“Not many,” the nurse replied, her tone measured. “I suppose it’s what’s normal. Seungwan has had a little movement occasionally, and her eyes respond better to light now, which is a very good sign.”
A knot formed in Jihyo’s throat as they entered the room she already knew too well. She glanced at the girl in the bed, quickly diverting her gaze away from her. “I know Joohyun came a couple of days ago… to explore her options,” Jihyo mentioned, her heart heavy.
The nurse nodded, a hint of sadness crossing her features this time. “Yes, Miss Joohyun spoke with one of the doctors who specialize in Seungwan’s case. She wanted to explore all the options and treatments that can be pursued.”
Jihyo sighed, looking at Seungwan and then back at the nurse, who gave her a bittersweet smile. “I’ve personally taken care of Seungwan for years… I believe she has more to fight for.”
Jihyo nodded, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, “I think so too.” She sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. The nurse smiled gently and said, “I’ll leave you two alone for now. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Jihyo nodded again, and she heard the door click softly as the nurse exited the room. As the silence enveloped her, Jihyo turned to Seungwan, feeling a knot tightening in her stomach as well. It made her want to flee, to run away from this place, but somehow, her legs felt as if they were glued to the floor. She clenched her fists tightly and took a deep breath, closing her eyes forcefully, as if that would help.
Finally, she turned, swallowing hard, and walked to the side of Seungwan’s bed. She pulled a chair closer, sitting down beside her slowly. Jihyo took her time, examining the room that was already etched in her memory—the rhythmic beeping of the monitor tracking Seungwan’s heartbeat, the blinding white lights, the rough and cold sheets. She didn’t know what it was, whether everything had simply come together, or if the fact that Joohyun had taken the initiative in something that terrified Jihyo so much had finally reached her.
A tear rolled down her cheek before she even realized she wanted to cry. She didn’t wipe it away; she didn’t have the strength. Instead, she leaned a little closer to the bed, lowering her gaze to Seungwan’s fingers. Jihyo sighed, trying to find her words, and eventually, she did.
“Hi,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Clearing her throat, she raised her hand to take Seungwan’s between hers. “It’s me, Jihyo. I don’t know why, but every time I come, I feel the need to announce that it’s me.” She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’ve always thought that maybe you wouldn’t recognize my voice, since it’s been such a long time since you could really hear me.”
Jihyo chuckled softly again, gently stroking the back of Seungwan’s hand. “I think I’ve broken a new record, visiting you more than twice in the same week. I know it’s a bit silly, but it feels strange, you know?” She shrugged, looking down at Seungwan. “Maybe it’s a sign that I should come more often or something.”
Taking a deep breath, Jihyo continued, “This time, it’s just me. Joohyun visited the hospital a couple of days ago. Did you have fun with her?” Of course, there was no response from Seungwan, and Jihyo examined her face, noting her closed eyelids, dry lips, and delicate nose.
With a sigh, Jihyo said, “I don’t know if Joohyun talked to you, but she did speak with the doctors.” She tightened her grip on Seungwan’s hand, her voice trembling slightly as she admitted, “I think Joohyun is losing hope that you’ll wake up…” she said, her voice trembling. “Isn’t that stupid?” She let out a humorless laugh, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks. “I still can’t believe it, maybe… but I suppose there will come a time.”
She laughed again, but it was laced with pain. “I never even thought about giving up, but… I don’t know anymore.” Her hands trembled, and her lower lip quivered as she spoke. “I’m scared, Seungwan. So scared.”
“Joohyun told me to think about what’s best for you, and I really wanted to do that, but I don’t think it’s fair,” Jihyo continued, her voice breaking. “I don’t think it’s fair to have to decide whether to let go of the love of my life. I don’t think it’s fair to just… give up. But at the same time, I don’t know what to think.”
More tears fell as she struggled to find her words. “I miss you, it’s silly, I know. It’s so… damned unfair not being able to do anything about it, because you’re right here in front of me. You’re breathing, your heart is beating, but… at the same time, you’re not really here. How does that make sense?”
“I need things to make sense,” Jihyo continued, her voice breaking. “I need everything to stop hurting, because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you promised me a life that now I have to complete alone.” She cried harder, feeling a strong pressure in her chest, overwhelming and almost suffocating. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t just… keep pretending. It’s exhausting. I’m so tired of everything, and I’m… so scared of making the wrong decision.”
She closed her eyes, letting the tears flow freely. “I’m so scared of never hearing your voice again.” Anger mixed with her grief, hot tears soaking her cheeks and dripping onto Seungwan’s hand. “I’m angry. I’m so angry that you chose to leave that day. Angry that you didn’t hear me.”
Jihyo cried even more, her heart aching as she poured out her emotions. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. But every day, I wake up, and that voice is still there, telling me it’s not fair. I wonder what could have happened if everything had been different. What would have happened to the family you promised me? What would have happened to Tzuyu… what would have happened to us?”
Jihyo cried even more, her body trembling as the weight of her emotions bore down on her. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, but it didn’t help much; the tears just kept flowing. There was a heavy pressure in her chest, a deep pain that seemed to echo the emptiness left behind.
“I know I can’t keep living in the past,” she said, her voice shaky. “I know that sometimes it’s time to let go, but why do I have to let go of someone who was taken from me without any chance?”
The anguish in her heart felt suffocating, and she leaned closer to Seungwan, wishing desperately for a sign, any sign that she could hear her. “It’s not fair,” she whispered, almost pleading. “You didn’t get the chance to fight. You didn’t get the chance to choose, and now I’m left here… struggling to keep living in a world when you don’t exist anymore”
Jihyo took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the tears kept coming. “How can I move on when I feel like a part of me is missing? How can I say goodbye when I still feel you with me? It hurts so much, Wan. I’m so lost without you.”
She paused, feeling the weight of her words, the truth of her feelings settling in the silence of the room. “I just want you back. I want to hear your laugh, see your smile… I want to hold you and tell you that everything’s going to be okay”
But then her expression shifted, a flicker of despair crossing her face. “But I know things are far from okay. They’ll never be completely fine again. I have to learn to live without you, without the thought, without the hope that someday you’ll just come back, because you won’t. As much as I wish I could give my life for that to happen, I know Joohyun might be right…”
Jihyo’s voice broke at the end, her heart heavy with the realization. She felt like she was fighting against a tide of emotions, and no matter how hard she tried to find her footing, the waves kept crashing down on her. “I just don’t know how to let go,” she admitted, “I don’t know how to stop loving you”
—
“Do you think I should wear a suit or a dress to the gala?” Momo asked, turning in her chair to look at Sana.
Sana pursed her lips, thinking. “You would definitely look sexy in a suit,” she replied with a smile.
Momo nodded, a small grin appearing on her face. “I know! but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate.”
“I’ll check the dress code,” Sana said, her fingers already moving to her laptop.
Momo made a sound of approval, turning her attention back to her computer. Sana rolled her eyes a bit and shifted to look at her own screen, typing away. However, she discreetly glanced at her phone, waiting for signs of Jihyo. It was uncommon for Jihyo to be late; she was usually the one to open the entire building with how early she arrived. But today, she was late—very late. So, Sana did the most logical thing she could think of and called Jihyo, only for the call to be rejected.
Sana didn’t let it worry her too much at first, but now, an hour later, with no sign of Jihyo, she was starting to feel uneasy. What if something had happened? What if Jihyo needed her? She bit her lip, trying to concentrate, but it was no use.
Just as she was firmly considering telling Momo that she thought something was wrong, the elevator doors opened, and soon, Jihyo stepped out, her heels clicking firmly against the floor. Sana smiled faintly, feeling relief wash over her chest. She sat up straighter, smiling more widely, not really caring if Momo saw her. Jihyo looked good; she was wearing a gray suit, her hair tied back, and Sana noticed the unusual sunglasses perched on her face.
As Sana watched Jihyo walk in, she furrowed her brow but chose to wait, letting Momo be the first to greet her. Momo turned towards Jihyo, her face lighting up with a friendly smile. “Hey, Park” she exclaimed, her voice cheerful.
Jihyo returned the smile, albeit faintly, her voice coming out a bit hoarse. “Hirai,” she greeted back, the warmth in her tone not fully matching the usual brightness.
Sana studied Jihyo closely, analyzing her demeanor. Usually, Jihyo had perfect posture, almost impeccable, but today she seemed... off? Sana couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she could sense the change. There was something about the way Jihyo stood, slightly slumped, that didn’t sit right with her.
Then Jihyo turned to Sana, her lips curling into a small smile as she greeted her. “Good Morning, Minatozaki.”
Sana nodded, returning the greeting, though her eyes lingered on Jihyo. Without much thought, Jihyo turned away and slowly walked towards her office. Sana couldn’t shake the feeling that something was strange about her today. She had seen this before—the way Jihyo spoke a little slower, how her movements seemed clumsy, and how her posture appeared closed off. It was clear: Jihyo was sad.
Biting her lip, Sana stood up from her chair, her determination growing. She grabbed a few papers she found on the table, and Momo turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to Park about something for the gala,” Sana said, her tone firm as she made her way to the office.
She approached the door and knocked lightly, not waiting for Jihyo’s voice inviting her in. Normally, Sana would have shown more tact and hesitation about interrupting Jihyo, but today felt different. Today, she felt an urgency to check on her.
As Sana entered the office, she closed the door behind her, her heart racing slightly. Jihyo was sitting at her desk, still wearing the sunglasses. Sana frowned, feeling a pang of concern. When Jihyo looked up and smiled faintly, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I had a couple of questions about the gala from Momo,” Sana replied, trying to keep her voice steady, but she could see the slight raise of Jihyo’s eyebrow.
“Is that all you came for?” Jihyo inquired, her tone skeptical.
Sana smiled softly, stepping closer to Jihyo’s desk. She placed the papers down but then moved around the desk, finally closing the distance between them. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Jihyo in a warm embrace.
Jihyo stiffened for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of the gesture, but then she relaxed, returning the hug ever so slightly. “Sana...” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Hi,” Sana said softly, her arms tightening around Jihyo. “You were late today.”
Jihyo huffed lightly, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I had a little mishap,” she replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. “You’re gonna scold me?”
Sana pulled back slightly, shaking her head. “No way! You’re the boss here, remember?”
Jihyo chuckled, a small smile breaking through her earlier tension. She intertwined her fingers together, resting them on her lap. “Fair point,” she conceded, her lips curving up.
Sana furrowed her brows, tilting her head in curiosity. “Are you ready for tonight?”
Jihyo nodded, the smile still lingering, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m not too excited about it, but everything is going according to plan.”
Sana’s eyes brightened. “I am excited! It’s my first gala!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
Jihyo let out an exasperated sigh. “Just don’t expect too much. I don’t want you to be disappointed,” she warned, though a small part of her appreciated Sana’s excitement.
“I won’t be disappointed! Everything will go great!” Sana replied confidently, giving Jihyo a reassuring smile.
Jihyo nodded, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “I hope so.”
Sana’s gaze softened, and she lifted a hand to gently caress Jihyo’s cheeks. “Are the sunglasses bothering you?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.
Jihyo felt a slight jolt of surprise at the question, the doubt flickering in her eyes for just a moment before it was hidden beneath her wide smile. “No, not at all! I just woke up with a headache,” she said, dismissing the concern.
Sana frowned slightly, her instincts telling her something was off. “Are you okay?” she pressed, her tone gentle but probing.
Jihyo nodded, pulling Sana closer again, urging her to sit on her lap. “I’m fine; really,” she reassured, though there was an underlying tension in her voice.
Sana complied, resting her head against Jihyo’s chest, breathing slowly as she played with Jihyo’s fingers absentmindedly. “If you say so,” Sana murmured, feeling the rhythmic beating of Jihyo’s heart beneath her.
Jihyo sighed, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth that Sana brought. She felt the presence of Sana enveloping her, the way Sana nestled against her chest, and how, in a moment of affection, Sana leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. Jihyo smiled a little, enjoying the fleeting sweetness.
But then, suddenly, it all became too much for her. The contrast of emotions—the warmth of Sana against the cold memories of Seungwan—was overwhelming. Sana made everything feel a little brighter, a little better, and yet, Jihyo couldn’t shake the pain that pierced her heart. It felt like a dagger had lodged itself firmly in her chest, and no matter how much she tried to push it away, the hurt remained.
Just then, Jihyo snapped out of her trance as she heard Sana’s voice. “Jihyo?” Sana asked, her tone filled with concern.
Jihyo cleared her throat, trying to mask her turmoil. “I’m fine….” she started to say, but the look on Sana’s face made her doubt her own words.
Sana lifted her head from Jihyo’s chest, furrowing her brow as she studied Jihyo’s expression. She leaned back slightly, taking hold of Jihyo’s cheeks, examining her closely. “You don’t look fine,” she said, her voice firm yet gentle. “What’s going on?”
Before Jihyo could protest, Sana gently removed the sunglasses from her face. Jihyo froze, cursing herself inwardly for letting her guard down. Sana’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight before her.
Jihyo’s eyes were swollen and red, dark circles forming beneath them and Sana’s heart sank at the sight. “Jihyo…” she whispered, her frown deepening. “What happened?”.
“Nothing,” Jihyo quickly replied, trying to reach for the sunglasses back from Sana's hand, but Sana was quicker, pulling them out of reach. “Really, it’s nothing. Just… I’m stressed, that’s all.”
Sana frowned, shaking her head. “You’ve been stressed before. I remember how that looks on you, and this isn’t just that. Something else happened, didn’t it?”
Jihyo shook her head again, making a sudden movement that caused Sana to lift herself off Jihyo’s lap. “No, no, nothing happened. I’m just… tired,” Jihyo insisted, the weariness evident in her voice.
Sana narrowed her eyes, her concern deepening. “You were crying, Jihyo. Your eyes are proof of that. Did something happen? Was there a problem with him? Are you hurt?”
Jihyo’s expression stiffened at the mention of Sungbin, and she immediately denied it. “No… Everything’s fine” Jihyo sighed deeply, looking away for a moment. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s stupid,” she insisted, her tone sharp.
“If something made you cry, it’s not stupid,” Sana argued gently. “You’re allowed to feel upset. Please, just let me help you.”
“It is stupid, and I don’t want your pity or anything like that,” Jihyo retorted.
Sana flinched slightly, hurt flickering in her eyes. “I don’t pity you, Jihyo” she replied, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “You’re so strong, but I care about you, and if something's going on, I want to help. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“I told you it’s nothing!” Jihyo snapped, the words coming out harsher than she intended. She immediately noticed how Sana flinched at her tone, and it pained her to see the hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Sana shook her head, her voice steadier than before. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for bothering you”
Jihyo felt a pang of guilt wash over her. “No, Sana. I’m sorry, I—”
“Really, I understand,” Sana interrupted softly, her expression calm yet firm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s alright.”
Jihyo opened her mouth to speak again, wanting to explain, to justify herself, but Sana’s unwavering gaze made her pause. “I just—”
“No,” Sana said gently, shaking her head. “You don’t have to.” She sighed, the weight of the moment hanging between them. “I need to get back to work and check on a few things with Momo.”
Sana leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Jihyo’s forehead, an act of comfort that made Jihyo’s heart flutter, even amidst her turmoil. “I’ll see you later” Sana whispered before standing up and moving towards the door.
Jihyo watched her leave, feeling the silence settle around her like a heavy blanket. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came. The door clicked shut behind Sana, leaving Jihyo alone in her office.
With a frustrated grunt, Jihyo let her head fall into her hands, her fingers tangling in her hair. “Fuck”
—
Jihyo didn’t see Sana after that, not for lack of wanting to, but simply because she hadn’t had the chance to, thus she had also forgotten how exhausting it was to keep track of everything all the time.
Of course, she knew that she and Sana had different responsibilities, and as much as Jihyo truly loved her work, all she wanted sometimes was for everyone else to stop being completely useless.
It was ironic, really. Because while Sana had taken the monotony out of her life, it seemed that the butterflies in her stomach had also triggered everything else to start feeling. Jihyo believed it made sense, even if she hated it—the way her life now had color, how she had Sana, how she had Joohyun, and as a consequence, she also had all the bad things in her life.
She wasn’t worried about Sungbin finding out what was going on. After all, he had long since lost the authority to tell her what was right or wrong. But still, she felt the pressure—the pressure to do everything right, to do everything perfectly. She couldn’t afford a single misstep; it wouldn’t be fair to Tzuyu, to Sana, to anyone. It was strange, really, and at the same time exhausting.
She sighed, glancing at the clock on her dresser out of the corner of her eye. Pouting slightly, she stepped away from the mirror, examining her face.
Jihyo took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of her thoughts. She needed to focus.
Usually, she wasn’t someone who wore makeup, at least not excessively, but today felt different, it was necessary
She sighed again, stepping back to take a full look at herself in the mirror. The dress she wore was black, with thin straps, revealing just a hint of her back. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she pursed her lips, nodding to herself.
Walking back to her dresser, she grabbed the earrings, getting lost in her thoughts until a cough interrupted her. She bit her tongue to hold back any words and turned to see Sungbin standing in the bathroom doorway, adjusting his jacket.
“How do I look?” he asked, a hint of pride in his voice.
Jihyo examined him from head to toe, feeling a knot form in her stomach. “You look good… handsome,” she replied, the compliment feeling foreign as it left her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she had addressed him like that.
Turning back to finish putting on her earrings, she began to hum softly, finally managing to secure them in place. She turned around, her heels clicking against the floor as she walked over to her bed to grab her bag. She rummaged through it for her phone
However, Sungbin turned back to the mirror, making a disapproving sound. “Can you help me with my tie?” he asked, looking slightly frustrated.
Jihyo turned to him and nodded, approaching him slowly. “Sure,” she said
Honestly, she wasn’t a fan of having Sungbin at the gala. She hadn’t even planned on telling him about the event, simply because she didn’t want him there. It was already enough to deal with him at home; now, she had to endure him in a public space, surrounded by countless partners who could ruin her career with just one misstep.
She wanted to curse, especially since she had to thank her mother and her big mouth for sharing everything. Sungbin didn’t oppose much, using his usual argument that he was “the husband” As she adjusted the tie, she cleared her throat, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“All done,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. Sungbin nodded, turning to grab his watch.
Jihyo finally pulled out her phone from her bag, searching for any messages from Sana, but found none. She bit her lip, trying not to worry. Just then, Sungbin’s voice broke through her thoughts again. “Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything?”
“No, I’m ready,” Jihyo replied, her tone steady.
Sungbin began to hum, turning back to her and approaching slowly. Jihyo didn’t step back; she didn’t fear him. As he reached her, he took her hand and placed her wedding ring there slowly. Jihyo looked down at it, her jaw tightening, but she didn’t say anything.
Instead, she let out a sigh, feeling relieved that she had decided not to wear the ring Sana had given her. It was a small victory.
She met Sungbin's gaze, her expression unreadable, but inside, she felt a mix of emotions swirling—relief, frustration, and a hint of defiance.
“Let’s go,” she said finally, breaking the silence.
Sungbin nodded without saying anything else, quickly stepping away from Jihyo. He cleared his throat and walked toward the door of the room. Jihyo grabbed her bag and followed him, carefully descending the stairs. She could hear the bustle of Tzuyu and the television from below, and a small smile crept onto her face as she reached the bottom.
She saw Sungbin holding Tzuyu in his arms, making the little girl laugh. A genuine smile broke across Jihyo's face as she stepped closer, feeling warmth spread through her at the sight of her daughter’s joy.
“Mommy, you look so beautiful!” the little girl turned to her, beaming.
“Thank you, Tzuyunnie” She replied, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Jihyo leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, causing Tzuyu to giggle even more. Sungbin mimicked her, planting a kiss on Tzuyu’s forehead, which made her laugh again.
“We’re leaving now, but you and Kaya behave for Grandma, okay?” Jihyo said, looking at her daughter.
Tzuyu nodded enthusiastically. “We will” she promised
With a glance at Sungbin, Jihyo made a subtle gesture, signaling that it was time to go. Sungbin nodded in agreement, and Jihyo walked to the door, opening it and preparing to step outside.
However, Sungbin called out to Jihyo’s mother, letting her know they were leaving. Jihyo grunted softly under her breath, cursing the situation. She could hear her mother’s voice approaching, and just in time, she turned to see her mother complimenting Sungbin.
“Oh, you look so handsome! Jihyo is so lucky to have you as her date,” her mother said, her tone filled with pride.
Jihyo bit her tongue, holding back the retort that almost escaped her lips. She felt a mix of frustration and resignation wash over her. Instead of responding, she forced a smile, choosing silence as her only weapon.
“Thanks, Mrs. Park,” Sungbin replied, a charming grin on his face. Jihyo could see the satisfaction in his eyes, and it made her stomach churn.
Jihyo cleared her throat, catching Sungbin's attention. He nodded and said, “We should get going now. We won’t be too late.” Her mother nodded in agreement, and without another word, Sungbin walked away, not waiting for her.
Jihyo followed him outside, walking to the car as he unlocked it. He barely glanced at her before getting in, and she mirrored his actions, closing the driver’s door and fastening her seatbelt. Sungbin started the car, pulling out of the driveway.
As they drove, Jihyo stared out the window, watching the streets, the people, and the lights pass by. She didn’t even feel like trying to initiate a conversation; it seemed pointless to waste her energy on something that didn’t matter. She sighed, shifting in her seat to get comfortable.
Sungbin, it seemed, wasn’t interested in filling the silence either, which allowed Jihyo to relax a little. Just as she was starting to let her mind wander, her phone buzzed from her bag. She noticed Sungbin’s gaze shift to her, a predatory look in his eyes, but she chose to ignore it. If it was Sana, there was no way she was going to answer right now.
“Are you not going to answer that?” Sungbin asked, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
Jihyo took a moment to think before responding. “It’s probably Momo needing help with a couple of things. I’ll see her when we arrive, so she can wait.”
Sungbin hummed in response, “I thought it was just going to be partners and directors at the gala.”
Jihyo shook her head, turning to look at him. “No, this year is different. There will be many more people.”
Sungbin raised an eyebrow, “What’s the occasion?”
Jihyo hesitated, considering how much to share. “They’re trying to expand the network and bring in more supporters. It’s a big deal for the company.”
Sungbin nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “Is Sana going to be there then?” he asked, glancing at Jihyo.
She turned to him, exhaling sharply. “You seem really interested in Sana, don’t you? Always asking about her,” she replied, a hint of irritation in her voice.
Sungbin looked at her, almost as if he was analyzing her reaction. Jihyo felt a small sense of victory; she knew he was aware of the tension. But instead of responding, he simply turned up the radio, filling the car with music.
Jihyo chose to focus on the road ahead, trying to push aside the uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled between them. After what felt like an eternity in that silence, Sungbin finally parked the car.
He got out first, and Jihyo followed suit. Sungbin handed the keys to the valet with a slight smile, and then he walked around to her side, placing a hand on her waist a bit more forcefully than she would have liked.
Jihyo chose to remain silent, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to address it. Instead, she focused her gaze ahead. The venue was beautifully decorated, exuding an air of sophistication and elegance that momentarily captivated her.
As they approached the entrance, Sungbin began to walk, effectively pulling her along with him. They entered through the grand glass doors, and Jihyo immediately felt the atmosphere shift. The place was indeed bustling with activity, filled with hundreds of people mingling around the tables adorned with fine linens and expensive wine glasses in hand.
Men, each a mirror image of the other in their tailored suits, accompanied by the most stunning women Jihyo had ever seen. She almost scoffed at the sight; it was always the same. A competition—who was the richest, who was the most powerful, who had the most beautiful wife. It was exhausting and, frankly, quite miserable.
Jihyo turned to Sungbin, her voice steady despite the discomfort she felt. “I need to go greet a few people and introduce myself to others. You can wait for me at one of the tables or go grab some wine,” she suggested, hoping he would take the hint.
Sungbin looked around, assessing the crowd before shaking his head. “I’ll accompany you,” he replied, and Jihyo swallowed her retort, forcing a smile instead.
“Alright,” she said, her tone resigned as they began to walk. She could feel his fingers digging into her skin almost uncomfortably, and she clenched her fist, trying to ignore the sensation. With a large, fake smile plastered on her face—the best she could muster—she walked slowly, scanning the room for any sign of the familiar chestnut hair she adored.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get far before she was stopped by none other than Mr. Kim. Jihyo should have been less annoyed at running into him at every single event, but considering he was one of her bosses, she couldn’t complain too much.
“Ah, Jihyo!” he greeted, his voice booming as he approached. She smiled politely, inclining her head slightly in respect. Sungbin mirrored her gesture, and Jihyo felt the tension in the air shift slightly.
“Mr. Kim, good to see you,” she replied, keeping her tone warm and professional.
Mr. Kim, with his wife elegantly draped on his arm, smiled back. “You look lovely this evening. And who is this?” he asked, glancing at Sungbin.
“This is my husband, Sungbin,” Jihyo introduced, feeling a sense of obligation to include him in the conversation.
“Ah, a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Kim said, extending his hand. Sungbin shook it firmly, and Jihyo felt a wave of relief wash over her.
Jihyo smiled faintly as Mr. Kim remarked, “It’s a wonderful evening. I suppose you’re one of the people who made it possible.”
“It’s a pleasure to hear that you’re enjoying it,” Jihyo replied, opening her mouth to say more, but she was interrupted by another voice.
“Good evening, everyone!” Donghae approached, a large glass of wine in hand and a mischievous grin on his face. He greeted them with a flourish, even going so far as to kiss the hand of Mr. Kim’s wife in a charming gesture.
Mr. Kim quickly shifted his attention to Donghae, greeting him warmly. Jihyo felt a knot form in her stomach as Donghae’s gaze flickered to her, a look of amusement dancing in his eyes. She began counting to ten slowly in her mind, trying to suppress the urge to lash out at the condescension she could sense in his tone.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you thanking Miss Park for the gala,” Donghae said, his voice dripping with faux sincerity. “You must have done a good job.”
Jihyo forced another smile, feeling the tension rise within her. “It was a pleasure,” she replied, her voice steady despite the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.
Donghae took a sip of his wine, then turned his attention to Sungbin. “And who might this be? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of scrutiny.
Jihyo glanced at Sungbin, noticing the way his gaze was fixed on Donghae, his jaw clenched tightly as he assessed the man before him. There was no mistaking it—he was angry.
Sungbin extended his hand, his voice calm but firm. “I’m Yun Sungbin, Jihyo’s husband.”
Donghae raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he shook Sungbin’s hand. “Ah, the husband. Nice to meet you. I didn’t know you were married, Park” he said, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.
Jihyo smiled, feeling the weight of Sungbin's gaze on her, a silent reminder of the tension in the air. “There’s really no need to share that much,” she said, her tone light but pointed. Donghae looked at her, and she took the opportunity to scan the room, feigning curiosity. “And where could your wife be, then? Perhaps you’re also one of those who likes to keep your privacy?”
For a brief moment, she saw Donghae's expression shift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he masked it with a smirk. “I decided to come alone for now,” he replied smoothly, “unless I can find Miss Minatozaki to keep me company.”
Jihyo felt her fists clench at the mention of Sana’s name. She knew Donghae was playing games, and it was infuriating. Donghae turned to Mr. Kim, saying, “You should really get to know Miss Minatozaki. She’s excellent at her job. You might want to consider moving her to a different position; I think she could benefit more from working under me.”
Mr. Kim chuckled, “If she’s as incredible as you say, perhaps I should indeed get to know her.” Jihyo bit her tongue, resisting the urge to remind him that she had already met Sana. It wouldn’t do any good; he clearly didn’t remember.
“Regardless, that’s also under Miss Park’s jurisdiction,” Mr. Kim concluded, glancing at Jihyo with a hint of approval. She allowed herself a small, triumphant smile, raising her eyebrows slightly in acknowledgment.
Donghae cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting slightly. “Of course, we’ll have to discuss this further in the office,” he said, forcing a false smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few other matters to attend to.”
With that, he nodded to the group and walked away, leaving Jihyo feeling a mix of relief and frustration. She turned to Sungbin, who still looked tense, his jaw tight.
Jihyo turned to Mr. Kim and his wife, offering a polite smile. “We both should also attend to some matters. Please, enjoy the gala,” she said warmly, her tone professional yet friendly. With a subtle nod, she discreetly pulled Sungbin along with her, making her way to one of the tables filled with an array of food and wine.
Once they reached the table, Jihyo cleared her throat, pouring herself a glass of wine and then one for Sungbin. She handed him the glass, and he accepted it silently, taking a sip without saying anything. Jihyo savored the rich flavor of the wine as it slid down her throat, feeling a momentary sense of relief.
After a brief silence, Sungbin finally spoke up, his voice slightly hesitant. “I didn’t know you use your maiden name for work,” he said, looking at her with exasperation.
Jihyo shrugged, feigning disinterest. “It’s just easier for paperwork,” she replied, trying to keep the conversation light.
“So, people don’t know you’re married?” he pressed, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Some do. Momo… and Sana as well,” she admitted, her tone casual. “But Donghae is particularly… not a fan of me”
Sungbin asked, “Why?”
Jihyo shrugged, taking another sip of her wine. “I don’t know, and I’m not really interested in knowing or in making a good impression. The feeling is mutual.”
Sungbin examined her, looking at her closely before taking a sip as well. He clenched his jaw and said, “Even so, it seems strange. Is that why you don’t wear your wedding ring anymore?”
Jihyo looked at him with an expression of incredulity and then huffed, finally taking a big gulp from her wine glass. “I don’t think you really want to hear the actual reason if you’re so convinced already.”
Sungbin replied, “I’m just curious. For any of those men, you’re single. No matter how much you want to ignore it, you’re still married. You’re still mine.” He emphasized his words by awkwardly taking her hand.
Jihyo looked at him and huffed again. “I have to go to the bathroom now.” She pulled her hand away from Sungbin’s grip and nearly tossed her bag at his chest. “Try not to talk to anyone,” she said, and without another word, she walked away, leaving him there.
Jihyo walked quickly, smiling a bit at the people she passed. She was fed up, really; they hadn’t even been there half an hour, and Sungbin had already managed to make her feel like trash. It was exhausting, and she didn’t even know what the cause was now.
She sighed, entering the hallway and making her way to the bathroom. She opened the door quickly and stepped inside, leaning against the sink and taking a deep breath. She couldn’t do this. She ran a hand through her hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t even recognize herself; it was as if every time she was with Sungbin, all her energy drained away, all her desire to simply… be, was gone.
She hated it, hated this— the jealousy, the possessiveness. It was… horrible. She felt like a piece of meat put on display for others. She should have known better; she should have prepared herself. Men… each one more idiotic than the last. That was all they cared about; superficiality, power. Sungbin was no exception; he was an idiot, empty.
Jihyo felt stupid, really, so much so that she let out a small grunt, cursing under her breath. It didn’t help much that she hadn’t seen Sana all day—well, in 8 hours. She didn’t know why she felt such a strong urge to see her, probably because her nerves were on edge or simply because she wanted, needed, to see her, apologize. She cursed again and stood up, looking at herself in the mirror.
Turning around without another thought and with less desire to kill everyone in her path, she left the bathroom, walking while waving at people from a distance, smiling as if nothing had happened, like the great actress she could be. However, her smile faltered slightly when she finally returned to the venue and noticed that Sungbin was not where she had left him.
Mistake number one: the comment he made had irritated her so much that she hadn’t considered just dragging him along with her. Mistake number two: she left him alone in a room with some of the most powerful and wealthy people on the planet. She grunted, looking around to find him, and fortunately, she spotted him quickly, a little ways off, laughing with a group of men.
She sighed and began to walk toward him with urgency, but suddenly a hand on her wrist stopped her. Frowning, she was ready to attack, but when she turned around and saw who it was, she froze. It was Sana, looking at her with a big smile.
Jihyo looked at her with her mouth agape; Sana had her hair down, curly, cascading delicately over her shoulders, and she wore a light purple dress that revealed her shoulders and a hint of her collarbone. Jihyo felt her mind racing at a hundred miles per hour, frozen, simply examining her. Suddenly, her mouth went dry, and the thought of going for Sungbin—or that the gala even mattered—vanished.
Sana, a bit shy, said, “Hi.”
Jihyo faced her properly and said, “Wow… you look… beautiful.”
Sana smiled a little more, her cheeks flushing slightly under Jihyo’s gaze.
Sana smiled brightly and said, “You look beautiful too, so much.” Jihyo felt Sana’s hand drawing a slow, discreet pattern on her wrist before letting go, and she definitely missed the girl’s touch on her skin.
Jihyo cleared her throat, glancing back and noticing Sungbin distracted. She looked at Sana with a shy smile and gestured with her hand, walking while guiding her with a light hand on her back. They moved away from the crowd to one of the distant tables.
“I was looking for you when I arrived,” Jihyo told Sana.
Sana smiled and replied, “I know, I’m sorry. I had a problem with the dress, and then I had to sort out a few things with Momo.”
Jihyo nodded, looking around and asking, “Where is she?”
Sana said, “The last time I saw her, she was talking to Hwang, but I lost sight of her.”
Jihyo nodded and smiled faintly, moving a little closer to Sana until their hands brushed against each other. “Well, you arrived at the best moment,” Jihyo said.
Sana smiled back and said, “I suppose. I’m not really used to… all of this? I only have experience from the dinners Mina used to invite me to.”
“Do you think the dress is okay? Or is it too much?” Sana asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Jihyo smiled, intertwining their pinkies discreetly and said, “It’s perfect. You look beautiful, really.”
Sana smiled, lowering her gaze slightly. She squeezed Jihyo’s pinky and asked, “What have you been doing?”
Jihyo replied, “Not much. I just got here not long ago. To be honest, having to… socialize so much is draining my energy. I spoke with Mr. Kim, one of my bosses. He was… as predictable as always”
Sana nodded, not saying anything more as she glanced around the room, her demeanor shifting. Jihyo noticed the sudden change in atmosphere; it felt heavier, almost suffocating. Sana was tense, avoiding Jihyo’s gaze, and Jihyo couldn’t help but feel responsible for it.
With a deep sigh, Jihyo cleared her throat, trying to break the awkward silence. “About what happened this morning…” she started, feeling the weight of her earlier outburst. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
Sana looked up, her eyes locking onto Jihyo’s, searching for sincerity. Jihyo felt her heart race as she continued, “I’m really sorry. I promised I wouldn’t speak to you like that again, and I broke that. I just… I don’t want you to feel—”
“It’s okay,” Sana interrupted, her voice gentle yet firm. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
Jihyo hesitated, feeling the urge to explain herself further “But I hurt you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sana shook her head. “We all have our moments.”
Jihyo opened her mouth to speak, but Sana raised a hand, stopping her. “Don’t say anything more,” she said softly. “You’re right. If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on, I can’t force you. You don’t owe me anything.”
Jihyo frowned, feeling a knot form in her stomach. “I just wanted to—”
Sana sighed, releasing Jihyo’s pinky. “It’s okay. Clearly, you don’t completely trust me with this, and I understand that. It’s not a bad thing. You have your doubts, and that’s normal.”
“But…” Jihyo started, wanting to protest, but Sana continued.
“I just wish you felt comfortable enough to admit when things aren’t okay,” Sana said, her voice tinged with concern. “I worry, Jihyo. A lot. All the time. I can’t help it, even if my concern isn’t necessary or you don’t want me to feel it. It’s just how I am.”
She paused, taking a deep breath. “I won’t bother you about it anymore, but I’ll always be here when you want to start talking.”
Jihyo opened her mouth to say that she did trust Sana, but the words caught in her throat as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She froze, turning to see Sana frowning slightly
“Oh honey, I didn’t know you were back from the bathroom,” Sungbin’s voice cut through the moment, causing Jihyo to curse silently and tense up. She turned to him, forcing a false smile onto her face.
“I ran into Sana on the way,” Jihyo explained, trying to keep her composure. “I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
Sungbin’s expression shifted, a tightness forming around his jaw as he looked Sana up and down with clear disdain. Jihyo’s heart sank as she glanced at Sana, noticing the way her friend’s fists clenched tightly, a sign of her own discomfort.
“I’m sorry,” Sana said, tensely “If I had known Miss Park had company, I wouldn’t have insisted on staying.”
Sungbin smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, now that you know she does, I’d really appreciate it if my wife could come with me,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.
Sana forced a tense smile, her gaze fixed on Jihyo, silently waiting for her to say something. Jihyo cleared her throat, feeling the pressure of the moment weighing heavily on her shoulders. “Actually, Sungbin. I think I’m—”
Sungbin interrupted, his demeanor unyielding. “Come on, Jihyo. We have things to discuss, and I could use your input on a few matters.”
The room felt suffocating, and Jihyo’s mind raced as she looked back at Sana, desperately wanting to shield her from Sungbin’s condescension. “I’ll be right there,” Jihyo finally said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Sana’s eyes flickered with concern as she searched Jihyo’s face, and for a brief moment, Jihyo felt torn between the two of them. “I… I’ll catch up with you later?” Jihyo added, hopeful but unsure.
“Sure,” Sana replied, her voice soft but strained, the warmth from earlier seeming to dissipate.
As Jihyo reluctantly followed Sungbin, she glanced back at Sana one last time, wishing she could explain everything in that moment.
Once they were a little ways off, she turned to him, her frustration spilling over. “What the hell was that back there?”
Sungbin feigned confusion, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Jihyo clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t forget that this gala is mine. It’s my job, not yours. You have no authority here. You only came because—”
Sungbin cut her off, his tone dismissive. “I came because I’m your husband.”
The words felt like a slap, and Jihyo’s grip on her emotions tightened. “You need to control yourself,” she snapped, feeling her anger rise. “That was rude.”
Sungbin shrugged, unfazed. “I don’t see why you need to play babysitter to an intern. Can’t she do her job without you? If she’s that useless, maybe you should just fire her.”
Jihyo’s heart raced at his words, the anger turning to indignation. “Well, It’s not your call, is it?”
Sungbin opened his mouth to respond, but Jihyo cut him off. “I don’t want to hear anything else about what’s going on in your head. What were you thinking, coming here and talking to me like that?”
She could feel a couple of curious gazes on them, the tension in the air palpable.
Sungbin raised an eyebrow, his expression unfazed. “I can talk to you however I want,” he replied coolly.
“No, you can’t!” Jihyo insisted, her voice rising slightly. “We’re not doing this again.”
Sungbin studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her. He didn’t say anything, but the silence felt heavy. Instead, he grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table, taking a sip before placing it down.
Then, without warning, he wrapped an arm around Jihyo’s waist, pulling her close. “It’d be better if we just focused on what you came here to do,” he said, his tone shifting to a more authoritative one.
Jihyo’s heart raced, a mix of frustration and discomfort flooding her senses. She wanted to push him away, to escape from his grasp and return to Sana, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she clenched her fists at her sides, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace as she began to walk with him.
As they moved through the crowd, Jihyo greeted familiar faces and exchanged pleasantries, all the while feeling the weight of Sungbin’s hold on her. She felt trapped, caught in a performance she didn’t want to be part of.
—
Sana had decided that galas were not fun after finishing her fourth glass of wine.
She could feel the atmosphere now a bit colder and the way her vision suddenly blurred slightly. She adjusted herself better in the chair with a grunt, looking around. The dress was pinching her a bit, digging uncomfortably into her skin. She grunted again, gazing off into the distance at Jihyo… with that idiot's arm wrapped around her waist. Sana huffed, taking a sip from her fifth glass. It was pointless really, and Sana felt foolish for being so upset; she wasn’t a jealous person, at least not that much.
She had tried not to react, but when she saw him, Sana just wanted to… hit him. She hated him, the condescension, the way he treated Jihyo. Even from across the room, Sana could notice Jihyo’s discomfort every time Sungbin did something. It was truly pointless, and Sana could feel her nails digging deeper into her skin, hurting her. She didn’t know why the hell Jihyo had brought him; she hadn’t said anything about it. An anger surged within her, but really, who was she angry with? Jihyo? She couldn’t do that; she never could. Sure, she had been a bit hurt from their little argument that morning, but she understood it, truly.
Sana took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. But the sight of Jihyo laughing at something Sungbin said, a forced smile plastered on her face, ignited a fire within her. "Why does she put up with him?" Sana thought, frustration bubbling up. She swirled the wine in her glass, watching the dark liquid swirl as if it could somehow wash away her irritation.
Sana grunted again, feeling bored. She was supposed to be with Jihyo, talking to partners, meeting new people, trying to make a name for herself. Because yes, even if she didn’t show it much, Sana loved her job. She wanted to be someone important, someone renowned. She had worked hard to get to where she was now, and instead, what was she doing? Sitting alone at a table, surrounded by people she had once read about in books and news, far too annoyed to really do anything. It was silly; she wanted to leave. No, she wanted to go find Jihyo and kiss her deeply in front of that stupid guy… her husband, Jihyo’s husband. Sana huffed; the word now sounded so insignificant on her lips, so foreign. It didn’t sound right.
She bit her lip, taking another sip and deciding to stand up from the table, hoping to find Momo and salvage the night. With a determined stride, she made her way through the crowd, glancing around for any sign of her friend. The clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation filled the air, but all Sana could focus on was the knot of frustration tightening in her chest.
However, as she walked between a group of people, Sana felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned slightly, only to grunt softly in annoyance at seeing Donghae in front of her. Damn it, she thought; how could the gala get any worse? Donghae smiled at her and said he finally found her. "You looked lost," he remarked.
“Not really,” Sana replied, trying to brush him off. “I’m just looking for Momo.”
Donghae nodded, still smiling. “I saw Hirai a couple of minutes ago with some people, talking.”
Sana nodded again, not in the mood to even pretend she wanted to entertain Donghae. She turned slowly to go search for Momo, but Donghae stopped her again.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his tone suggesting he wasn’t going to let her leave that easily.
“I have to find Momo,” Sana insisted.
“It’ll just be a moment,” Donghae replied, taking her hand and pulling her along with him. Reluctantly, Sana followed, his smile still plastered on his face. “The last time we saw each other, I couldn’t talk much. That girl didn’t let me,” he explained.
Sana nodded, remembering how they had been busy. “We were occupied,” she said, trying to keep the conversation light.
“Well, you’re not occupied now,” he pointed out, and Sana chose to remain silent, not wanting to engage further.
“Can I buy you a glass of wine?” Donghae asked, his tone casual.
Sana shook her head. “Actually, I’ve already had several, and I really wouldn’t like to get too drunk,” she replied, trying to be firm.
Donghae waved her concern away. “It’s fine; after all, I think you owe me for all those flowers I gave you.”
Sana looked at him, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why was he so insistent? She didn’t owe him anything. “I don’t think I owe you anything,” she shot back, her voice steady but her heart racing.
Donghae huffed, taking a glass and extending it toward Sana nonetheless. “It’s just wine; what could happen?” he said with a casual grin.
Sana looked at him, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. The thing was, she wasn't someone who enjoyed confrontation; she hated it, always. But Sana + five glasses of wine in her system + an idiot who wouldn’t leave her alone was not usually a good combination. However, the logical part of her brain made her aware of her surroundings, the people watching, and she decided to simply say nothing. She took the glass that he offered, and Donghae smiled, taking one for himself.
He turned to her and said, “See? Nothing’s wrong,” with that annoying air of confidence. Sana nodded, forcing a fake smile and taking a small sip from the glass. It was enough for her to feel something strange in her chest. She frowned, pulling the glass away from her lips and looking at Donghae.
But she couldn’t say much before he interrupted her thoughts. “I wanted to talk about you, about our pending date,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious.
Sana stared at him, silent and still, her mind racing. A date?
Donghae looked at her, his expression shifting as he said, “I think it’s time.” Sana's confusion deepened as she met his gaze.
With a slight smile, she replied, “As I said before, I never accepted anything.”
Donghae glanced from her to the glass in her hand, his demeanor changing slightly as he cleared his throat. The smile faded from his face. Sana turned her head, noticing Jihyo in the distance, shifting her gaze around the room.
Donghae spoke again, trying to regain her attention. “I figured you would say yes if I asked again, especially now that it’s just the two of us, without Park around.”
Sana frowned, taking a larger sip of her wine, feeling the warmth wash over her. She made a small grimace at the taste and said, “Miss Park just wants to take care of me.”
Donghae clenched his jaw, adjusting his tie. “I believe I could take better care of you. I can look out for you, too,” he asserted, his tone firm.
Sana met his gaze, her vision slightly blurring as the wine began to affect her. She cleared her throat, feeling a pit in her stomach. “I’m really sorry, but I’m happy with Park. I don’t date coworkers.”
Donghae’s frown deepened, clearly offended by her words. Sana turned back to look at Jihyo, who was now glancing around more frequently. Was she searching for her?
“I think you could make an exception for me,” he said, trying to regain her attention. “After all, it’s your fault for leading me on by accepting all those flowers.”
Sana looked at him, feeling the world begin to spin slightly. She cleared her throat again, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry, but I'd prefer that my relationship with you is strictly professional,” she insisted, her voice wavering as the dizziness intensified.
As she swayed slightly to the side, Donghae instinctively reached out to steady her by the waist. Sana tensed at his touch, stepping back quickly. “I’m fine,” she said, leaving the glass of wine on the table.
“Are you not going to finish it?” Donghae asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
Sana shook her head, “I’m sorry, but it’s probably for the best if I don’t.” She could feel the world around her becoming more hazy, the sounds blending together in a muffled cacophony. “I just need some fresh air,” she added, her voice faltering.
“I’ll come with you,” Donghae suggested, his expression unreadable
“No,” Sana replied firmly, needing to assert herself. “I’ll go alone.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.
As she walked through the crowd, she couldn’t help but curse under her breath. What the hell was wrong with the men here? Was it her drunken brain playing tricks on her? The irritation bubbled up inside her, fueled by the alcohol. The world continued to sway around her, and she focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to navigate through the sea of people.
How the hell did one more glass of wine lead to this?
Sana finally stepped outside, welcoming the cool night air against her flushed face. She took a deep breath, leaning against the wall for support as she tried to steady herself. A low groan escaped her lips as she rubbed her temples; her head ached now, a dull throb that pulsed with each heartbeat. “Damn it,” she muttered to herself, reaching into her bag to find her phone.
She struggled for a moment, the weight of her bag feeling heavier with each passing second. Her eyelids felt heavy too; the world continued to swirl around her, making it difficult to focus. Finally, she pulled out her phone, unlocking it with shaky fingers and searching for Momo’s number. The screen blurred slightly as she squinted at it, frustration building.
After what felt like an eternity, she found Momo’s contact and began to dial. But just as she pressed the call button, a wave of dizziness hit her, and she felt her body grow heavy. It was as if an invisible weight had settled on her shoulders, pulling her down.
Suddenly, everything went black. The sounds of the gala faded away, replaced by silence. In that moment, the world around her vanished, leaving only an unsettling void.