Chapter 6
The next morning arrived with an unusual stillness. The city outside Soo-yeon's window was buzzing as always, but inside her heart, there was a quiet storm. She lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting the sunlight spill into her room. It wasn't just another day—she knew that. After everything that had happened with Ji-hoon, her so-called fiancé, life was beginning to feel both heavier and strangely more unpredictable.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Se-ra popped up.
> Se-ra: "Don't forget, we're meeting at the café after class today. No excuses."
Soo-yeon sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. Se-ra never gave her room to escape. And maybe that was what she needed—someone who refused to let her drown in silence.
---
At school, whispers followed Soo-yeon everywhere she went. People stared when she passed the hallways, their eyes filled with curiosity, envy, or pity. News about her engagement to Ji-hoon, the wealthy young CEO, had spread like wildfire. She hated the attention. Every smile that wasn't genuine, every glance that was too sharp, made her feel as if she was walking through a battlefield disguised as a lecture hall.
"Soo-yeon!"
She turned and found Min-jun waving from across the corridor. He jogged over, slightly out of breath, carrying his sketchbook under his arm. His brown hair was messy as always, and his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose.
"You look… tired," he said gently, studying her face.
"I didn't sleep much," Soo-yeon admitted. "Too many thoughts."
Min-jun tilted his head. "Want me to distract you with an art rant? I just finished sketching something I think you'll like."
Soo-yeon chuckled softly. Min-jun's presence was comforting in ways she couldn't explain. Unlike Ji-hoon, whose aura was overwhelming and commanding, Min-jun's was warm, like sunlight through autumn leaves.
"Maybe later. I have class now."
"Later then," Min-jun replied, flashing a reassuring smile.
---
The hours crawled by, and finally Soo-yeon met Se-ra at the café near campus. It was a cozy little place with wooden tables, warm lighting, and the aroma of fresh coffee drifting through the air. Se-ra was already there, sipping her latte while scrolling through her phone.
"There you are!" Se-ra exclaimed, waving her over. "Sit. Tell me everything. I want details."
Soo-yeon sat down, resting her chin on her palm. "There's nothing to tell. He's cold, distant, and probably doesn't even want this engagement either."
Se-ra leaned forward, eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Cold? Maybe. But come on, Soo-yeon. He's ridiculously handsome, successful, and literally every girl's dream. Maybe he's just… guarded. Have you tried breaking that wall?"
Soo-yeon groaned. "Why should I be the one breaking walls? It's not like I asked for this. My father just—" She stopped herself, biting her lip.
Se-ra frowned. "Your father just what?"
Soo-yeon shook her head. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."
Se-ra narrowed her eyes but didn't push further. Instead, she reached across the table and squeezed Soo-yeon's hand. "Listen, I don't care how powerful Ji-hoon is, or how much pressure your family puts on you. What matters is what you want. And if you're unhappy, you have to say it out loud. Even if it's scary."
Soo-yeon looked down, her heart aching. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe she had a choice.
---
Later that evening, Soo-yeon returned home. The grand house felt colder than usual, its silence echoing with unspoken expectations. Her mother greeted her briefly in the hallway, her expression carefully neutral, before retreating into the study. Her father was nowhere to be seen.
As Soo-yeon walked up the stairs, she paused. The door to the library was slightly ajar, and a familiar voice drifted out—deep, commanding, unmistakable. Ji-hoon.
Her pulse quickened. She approached quietly, peeking inside. Ji-hoon stood by the tall bookshelves, his jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms. He was on the phone, his tone sharp and controlled.
"No, that's not acceptable," he said firmly. "We'll renegotiate tomorrow. I don't care what excuses they have."
He ended the call, exhaling slowly before noticing her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room froze.
"You're home," Ji-hoon said, his voice softer now.
Soo-yeon stepped inside hesitantly. "I didn't know you were here."
"I came to speak with your father. He's… occupied." Ji-hoon's gaze lingered on her, unreadable yet piercing. "How was your day?"
The question caught her off guard. It sounded almost normal, almost human.
"It was… fine," she replied carefully.
Ji-hoon studied her, as though searching for something beneath her words. "Good." He reached for his jacket, slipping it back on with effortless grace. "We'll have dinner tomorrow. Just the two of us."
Soo-yeon blinked. "Dinner?"
"Yes," Ji-hoon said, his tone leaving no room for refusal. "Consider it… a start."
Before she could respond, he brushed past her, his presence leaving a trail of tension in the air. Soo-yeon stood frozen in the library, her heart racing.
A start? What did that even mean?
---
That night, Soo-yeon lay awake in bed, staring at the moonlight filtering through her curtains. Ji-hoon's words replayed in her mind. A start.
For the first time, she wondered if there was more to Ji-hoon than the cold exterior he showed the world. And deep down, a dangerous thought crept into her chest—what if, despite everything, her heart began to waver?
The following morning, Soo-yeon felt a strange tension in the air as she walked through the school gates. Whispers had multiplied overnight, and every glance seemed to follow her. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, trying to disappear into the crowd.
"Hey, Soo-yeon!"
It was Hye-won, waving from across the courtyard. She hurried over, her expression a mixture of concern and excitement.
"You're still glowing from yesterday, huh?" Hye-won teased, nudging her gently. "Or is it just the gossip?"
Soo-yeon groaned. "Don't remind me. I feel like everyone knows my life story now."
Hye-won smirked. "Well, when the CEO's fiancée is walking through school, that's bound to happen. Maybe it's time to get used to it."
Soo-yeon rolled her eyes, but deep down, she knew Hye-won was right. The engagement wasn't something she could hide or escape—it had become part of her daily life, whether she liked it or not.
---
During morning classes, she found herself paired with Ji-hoon for a group assignment. They were tasked with analyzing market strategies for a hypothetical company—a project that required cooperation, logic, and communication.
Ji-hoon arrived precisely on time, his posture perfect, his expression unreadable. He didn't greet her with warmth, but it wasn't cold either. It was a careful neutrality that carried weight.
"Let's begin," he said simply, placing his notebook on the table.
Soo-yeon frowned, crossing her arms. "Fine. But I'm not following your plan blindly."
"I wouldn't expect you to," Ji-hoon replied, his voice calm but firm. "I just ask that you listen before dismissing ideas."
Soo-yeon felt a small surge of irritation, but also a spark of challenge. She had to admit—it was… stimulating. Unlike her usual school projects where she often went unnoticed, Ji-hoon's presence demanded attention, strategy, and effort.
---
Hours passed as they debated, analyzed, and sometimes clashed over minor details. Each disagreement was met with Ji-hoon's patience and careful reasoning, forcing Soo-yeon to reconsider her impulsive instincts.
"You see," Ji-hoon said during a particularly heated moment, "success often comes from understanding the strengths of your partner, not just imposing your own ideas."
Soo-yeon blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His words weren't just about the project—they were a subtle reminder about their engagement, their dynamic, and the lessons she was beginning to learn.
---
After class, they walked together through the campus gardens. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows on the pathway. The air smelled faintly of flowers and freshly cut grass—a rare peaceful moment amidst the chaos of their public attention.
"You've changed," Ji-hoon said quietly, his eyes scanning hers.
Soo-yeon stopped, taken aback. "Changed? How?"
"Your approach," he explained. "You're observing more, reacting less. You're… aware of the consequences now."
She felt her cheeks heat up. "I'm not sure if I'd call it awareness. Maybe… survival."
Ji-hoon allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Perhaps survival is the first step toward understanding."
Soo-yeon didn't respond, but she felt the truth in his words. She had noticed herself growing more cautious, more strategic—not just in dealing with Ji-hoon, but in every interaction, every choice she made.
---
Later that evening, Soo-yeon returned home to a quiet house. Her father was in his study, working on documents, while her mother was preparing tea in the kitchen. The atmosphere was calm but heavy with unspoken expectations.
Ji-hoon had left a note on the dining table: Dinner tomorrow, 7 PM. Please be ready.
Soo-yeon frowned, feeling the weight of the engagement settle over her like a shadow. Yet, despite the pressure, a part of her was curious—what did Ji-hoon mean by a start? What did he expect from these dinners?
She knew one thing for certain: the path ahead would be complicated. Between school, family obligations, and public attention, she had to navigate carefully. And now, more than ever, she realized that understanding Ji-hoon would require patience, observation, and perhaps, a willingness to see past his cold exterior.
---
As she lay in bed that night, Soo-yeon's thoughts drifted to the moments they had shared—the arguments, the subtle gestures, the quiet words in the gardens. Each one left an impression, a mark that she couldn't ignore.
Somewhere out there, Ji-hoon might be thinking the same, measuring her reactions, noting her growth, and perhaps, slowly bridging the gap between obligation and genuine connection.
Soo-yeon closed her eyes, feeling a strange mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The engagement wasn't just a social arrangement anymore—it was becoming a journey of understanding, growth, and perhaps, something more.