"You'll be leaving when you're done with high school."
His words didn't just echo in the room. They slammed against my chest, heavy and suffocating.
I stared at him. President Park Jongnan, the man the whole country worships. To me? Just a father who's never been one.
"As you know," he continued, his voice calm in that terrifying way only he could pull off, "I have a lot of things in store for me that will undoubtedly benefit the country."
Benefit the country. Right. Everything was always about the country, never about me.
My phone screen lit up on the desk. For a second, I let my eyes glaze over it, anything to drown out his voice. But Eunji's soft, sickly-sweet tone cut in.
"Jongnan, maybe—"
I didn't let her finish. The words flew out before I could stop them.
"I'll do it… if you don't marry Eunji."
Silence.
His eyes snapped to me, sharp, dangerous. A storm.
"What did you just say?" His voice dropped, low and venomous.
I held his gaze, my face calm even though my pulse was racing. "You heard me."
The slap came fast. Hard. My cheek stung, but I refused to flinch.
"If you know what's best for you," he growled, "you'll listen to me."
Behind him, Eunji gasped like the actress she was.
"Honey! She's just a kid. You didn't have to hit her!" Her words dripped with fake concern, her hand resting protectively on her stomach.
Kid. I wanted to laugh.
"She's seventeen!" My father's voice cracked with anger. "It's high time she starts to act like the President's daughter. Sometimes…" His eyes burned into mine. "Sometimes I wonder how I ended up with that woman."
That woman. My mother. Misa Park. The only person who had ever really loved me.
He stormed out, leaving the air heavy with unspoken words.
Eunji lingered. Slowly, she turned to me, her expression softening into something colder than ice.
"If you know what's good for you," she whispered, "you'll leave. Don't make things worse… for me, your father, and our unborn child."
She smiled. Sweet. Venomous.
The door clicked shut behind her.
My cheek throbbed, but what hurt more was how normal this all felt.
"Just great," I muttered, a bitter chuckle escaping.
One tear rolled down my face, but I wiped it away fast. No one would ever get the satisfaction of seeing Park Chaeyoung break.
I turned off my phone. No distractions. No texts. And mostly especially… No Joon.
…Except I couldn't stop myself.
When I turned it back on, his last unread message blinked at me. And before I knew it, I was typing.
Me: What exactly do you want to help me with?
It only took him two minutes to reply...
Joon: I want to get to know you better. And I think you need someone too. Blocking everyone out isn't an option. That's not you.
Not me? He didn't know me. No one did.
Me: And who do you think I am?
Joon: Someone who needs a shoulder to cry on.
My throat tightened. I typed back fast, shoving away the warmth trying to creep in.
Me: Look, I'll say this one last time. Stay away from me. I don't need help.
I hit send before I could regret it.
But his reply…
Joon: Trust me, I know how you feel. Even when I don't want to. See you at school.
The screen went black, but his words didn't leave me.
***
The next morning, my life became a circus. If only it was literal.
Three men in black stood behind me like shadows. But they weren't my usual escorts. My father's gift.
"I don't trust you, so you'll be escorted everywhere," his text had read. "Better not try anything foolish."
I laughed out loud when I saw it. "Immature," I muttered, sliding into the limo.
They usually went back home after they dropped me. But stepping into DCS with bodyguards? Oh, that was a show.
Whispers followed me down the hall. Phones raised. Students stared like I was on the red carpet instead of just going to class.
And then Joon appeared.
"Hey, how—"
Two walls of muscle stepped between us.
"Step aside," one barked.
My head snapped up. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry, ma'am. Orders."
Orders. Always orders.
I glared. "He's not a threat. Look at him—he couldn't even hurt a fly if his life depended on it."
"Ouch," Joon muttered.
The crowd ate it up. Whispers grew. Even the principal peeked out.
The guards didn't move. "Sorry, ma'am. We're just following orders."
The robotic repetition made my blood boil.
I stormed off, their heavy steps following me all the way to the restroom.
"Let me guess," I hissed, spinning on them. "You're ordered to follow me in here too?"
"Sorry ma'am, we're just—"
"Stay. Out!" I slammed the door in their faces.
Outside, whispers brewed.
"Did you hear? She's pregnant. That's why the President has guards on her."
"What?! No way—"
And then Joon's voice cut through.
"Wow. That was fast. Five minutes and she's already pregnant? You should use that creativity in your exams. Maybe then you'd actually pass. But no, spreading fake news is easier, right? No wonder she despises people like you."
His words left the hallway stunned. And me? Behind the restroom door, I almost smiled.
***
Class was no better.
I dragged myself in, exhausted, the three shadows tailing me like loyal dogs. Dropping into my seat at the back, I let my head fall onto the desk.
Joon glanced back, his eyes soft. Always too soft.
"Joon, are you listening?" the teacher snapped.
He jumped. "Y-yes, ma'am."
I cracked one eye open. He was lost in thought. About me, probably. And for some reason, that didn't annoy me.
I grabbed my phone.
Me: Sorry about yesterday.
Short. Plain. But he'd get it.
He checked his phone after class. I caught the smug smile tugging at his lips.
Joon: No worries. Can I see you after school? There's something I can't say over the phone.
I hesitated.
Me: I'll try. The tteokbokki shop?
Joon: Yeah.
***
Night fell. My house was a fortress. Guards everywhere. My father's paranoia painted across every hallway.
But if there's one thing I'm good at, it's breaking rules made by him.
Black hoodie. Rope tied to my bedpost. Lights off. Window open.
And then I was gone.
"I swear, if this is nothing important," I muttered, "I'll kill him myself."
Thirty minutes of running later, lungs burning, I slipped into the little tteokbokki shop.
Joon was already there.
"You ran all the way here?" he blinked. "You could've taken the bus."
I shot him a look. "Right. And get recognized? Great idea."
He shut up fast.
"Talk," I demanded. "I don't have time. What is it?"
His hands fidgeted. His voice cracked. "Chaeyoung… this may sound insane but… I know a lot about you. And I know where someone important to you is."
My stomach flipped. "What are you talking about?"
"Your father's fiancée…" His lips trembled. "Eunji…"
I glared. "If you don't start making sense, I'm leaving."
And then the words that come out from him froze me.
"Eunji… is my mother."