I was scrolling through my private Instagram account when her name appeared.
Lim Yoona.
Her feed was ridiculous. Birkins, Dior, Cartier. Brunch at five-star hotels. Designer heels propped up on champagne tables.
Except… none of it was hers.
I could tell instantly. The Birkin wasn't even released in Korea yet. The Cartier bracelet? A limited edition piece only sold by private appointment. The hotel lobby she tagged? That wasn't Seoul. That was Tokyo.
Every picture screamed "borrowed life."
"Can't people just be real?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone.
But that wasn't just for Yoona. It was for Eunji, too.
Mr. Park's third wife. Eunji. The woman who wanted me gone.
My real mom, Misa, had been his second wife. She wasn't rich. She wasn't famous. Infact, she was a maid in his household when he was just a politician with ambition too big for his own body. A divorced woman with two daughters—me and my sister, Yoonmi.
For a while, it almost felt like a family. Until, everything collapsed.
My father—Jongnan—cheated. My mom caught him with Eunji. And she didn't forgive him.
I still remember her words:
"Either you grant me this divorce… or I tell the world South Korea's soon-to-be-President is nothing but a cheating scumbag."
That's when things turned ugly.
We were in the car that night. My mom, Yoonmi, me… and Yeojin, my baby sister—The actual daughter of the President.
Mom was driving, and Jongnan was chasing us. Headlights in the rearview mirror, his car pressing closer and closer.
"Mommy, what's happening?" I whispered, terrified.
She gave me the softest smile. "Nothing, darling. Don't worry."
But her hands were shaking.
Seconds later, everything went black. The sound of metal crashing, glass shattering, cries—then silence.
When I woke up, my mom was gone. Yoonmi was gone. Only Yeojin and I… survived.
At seven years old, my perfect world ended.
And the man responsible? He became President.
"Ma'am?" A voice snapped me back to the present. A maid stood at my door, bowing so low she looked like she'd snap in half.
"What?" I asked flatly.
"Mr. Park requests your presence at dinner this evening—"
I cut her off. "If it's just to continue last night's lecture, tell him I'm not coming."
She rushed out quickly, almost tripping.
I groaned, checked the clock. Six already. Damn. I was going to be late.
I rushed into the bathroom, washed up, threw on my uniform, and ran downstairs. No breakfast. Who cared?
But when I stepped outside… my limousine was gone.
"What the hell?"
I spotted my driver, Mr. Xian.
"Where's my car?"
He bowed, nervous. "I'm sorry, young mistress. Your father ordered me not to drive you anymore."
I clenched my jaw. "And my escort?"
His silence was answer enough.
Unbelievable. This was his punishment? Stripping me of my ride, my protection?
Fine. I wasn't going to beg. I'd rather die than beg him.
I took the bus. The only option left for me.
First time in over a decade. People stared. Whispered. Phones came out.
"Isn't that the President's daughter?"
"What's she doing here?"
By the time we stopped, paparazzi had already caught on. Cameras flashing. Voices shouting questions.
I jumped off the bus, running straight into a side street, slipping into a small tteokbokki shop.
Leaning against the counter, breathless, I muttered, "Who said being a celebrity was easy?"
"Uh…"
I looked up. Perfect. Just my luck.
Lee Joon.
"Do you need help?" he asked softly, concern in his eyes.
"No," I said quickly. "I don't."
My stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. He noticed, and before I could stop him, he slid a plate of food in front of me.
"It's not much, but… you should have it."
I stared at it. My pride told me to refuse. My hunger didn't.
"…Thanks," I muttered, taking a bite.
His lips curled into the smallest smile. "Good, right?"
"Shouldn't you be at school?" I asked, avoiding his eyes.
"My halmeoni's sick. I opened the shop for her."
I nodded, chewing quietly, but then I caught him staring.
"What?" I snapped. "Never seen a girl eat before?"
He flushed red, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. You're just… pretty."
My spoon froze midair. "WHAT THE—"
I stood up so fast the chair screeched against the floor. My heart was racing, and no one knew how much I hated it.
"I didn't mean—!" he started, but I was already out the door.
***
By the time I got to school, it was 8:00. Class had already started. I slipped into English, sliding into my seat at the back.
"Miss Park," Mr. Han scolded, "you're rate."
I lifted my head lazily. "It's late, not rate, Mr. Han."
The class chuckled. He turned back to the board. No one could really punish me anyway. Unless they had a death wish of course, then I'd gladly grant it.
***
At lunch, the whispers hit me harder than hunger and that was something new.
"I heard she took the bus."
"She looked totally out of place."
"Someone saw her hiding in a tteokbokki shop."
I ignored them, but then came the worst part—my card got declined at the Diamond cafeteria.
Of course. My father had cut me off.
"What's he going to cut next? My life supply?" I muttered under my breath.
And then—Joon appeared beside me. Quiet, calm, like always.
"If you're here to admire how pretty I am, I'll pass," I said coldly, dragging out the word.
He scratched his neck nervously. "Sorry about earlier. It came out wrong—"
I shotna glare at him like he had just called me "ugly."
His eyes widened. "No! You are, I mean—you're pretty, I just—"
Before he could finish, the juniors nearby started whispering.
"Is he asking her out?"
"No way. He totally is."
I turned my head slowly, glaring at them. My voice dropped to a whisper only they could hear.
"You guys piss me off. Remember one of your people? Where is she now?"
Their faces went pale instantly.
Satisfied, I smirked, tilting my head just enough for them to know I meant it.
"There you go. You two look way better when you're not spitting out nonsense," I let out a soft devilish smile.
Leaving Joon alone, I walked through the crowded, yet quiet, halls of DCS.
Some queens wear crowns. But I looked hotter in fear.