The first thing I noticed when I woke was the warmth. My cheek pressed against something steady, solid, impossibly grounding. My eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, panic struck—this wasn't my bed. The sheets were unfamiliar, soft, and the faint scent of cedar and soap hung in the air.
I bolted upright, heart hammering, blanket slipping off my legs. My mind raced. How… why…?
Then I remembered—the ride home. Leaning against him. Dae-hyun.
My chest tightened as a blush burned through my cheeks. He must have carried me here. I didn't know if that made my heart swell or made me want to disappear.
I swung my legs over the bed, shivering, aware of every sound, every creak in the quiet apartment. My hands twisted the blanket, trying to anchor myself, trying to remind myself that this—this closeness—was temporary, a courtesy, nothing more.
Footsteps outside the door made me freeze. Deliberate, measured, far too heavy to be a neighbor. My father.
"Woo-jin," a clipped voice called, sharp with authority. "Breakfast."
My stomach lurched. I swallowed, nodding silently. The door opened with a soft click, and I followed the echo of footsteps down the hall.
The dining room was pristine, polished, cold. My mother sat quietly at the far end, sipping tea with her back straight as a rod. My father sat at the head of the table, eyes fixed on me with a calm that promised judgment.
"Sit," he said, and I obeyed, careful to avoid eye contact. The clinking of silverware seemed loud, intrusive. Every sound echoed in the cavern of tension that filled the room.
"I did a background check," Father said, breaking the silence like a hammer.
I froze. My fork hovered midair. The words landed on me with weight I wasn't ready for.
"Excuse me?" I whispered, voice barely audible.
His tone didn't change. "On your… companion." The word carried disdain. "Jung Dae-hyun."
The name struck like a whip. My chest tightened. My mind raced. He wasn't… he couldn't be…
Father continued, voice coldly methodical: "Eldest son of the Jung family. Wealthy. Old money. Estates in Gangnam and beyond. The Jungs hold significant stakes in real estate, banking, and shipping. Currently studying business at a top university here in Seoul."
I swallowed, panic prickling under my skin. Dae-hyun… a Jung? The heir to billions, and he was… here? With me?
Father's gaze narrowed. "And yet, he associates with you." His words were more than observation—they were accusation.
"Classmate," I muttered, hoping the word would suffice.
Father leaned back slightly, eyes cold and unyielding. "Classmate?" he repeated, testing the claim for cracks. Then, softer, almost thoughtful: "You are careless, Woo-jin. Do not bring trouble into this house."
My hands clenched under the table. Trouble. That was all I had ever been. Always the problem, the misfit, the unwanted.
I forced myself to eat, every bite a struggle, each swallow bitter as the memory of Dae-hyun's warmth lingered. For a fleeting second, I wanted to reach out, to hold onto that safety, but Father's presence reminded me of reality: warmth here came with consequences.
"I need to know everything," he said finally, voice firm but measured. "How did you meet him?"
I hesitated, heart hammering. I couldn't say the truth—not that he saved me from despair, not that he stood up for me when I was bullied, not that he made me feel like someone cared.
"Classmate," I said again, voice steadier but brittle.
Father's eyes darkened slightly, piercing. "You brought him home without permission. Do you understand the risk?"
I nodded, swallowing. "Yes, sir."
"You have no idea who you are dealing with. That family… the Jung name carries power, influence, and enemies. Associating with him… it could ruin you, ruin us."
I lowered my gaze, trying to appear obedient, but inside, a strange warmth lingered—the memory of Dae-hyun's shoulder, his quiet strength when the world had seemed too heavy. That warmth made my chest ache in ways I couldn't name.
Father's tone softened just a fraction, but it still carried its weight. "Finish your meal. And remember your place. Your actions have consequences, Woo-jin. Don't forget it."
I nodded again, forcing myself to swallow. Every bite felt like swallowing my pride, my independence, the fragile threads of hope I'd clung to.
After he left the room, my mother's silence pressed down like a second skin. No words of comfort, no soft glance—just the quiet reminder that safety in this house was an illusion.
Yet even in that oppressive atmosphere, my thoughts betrayed me. Dae-hyun. The boy who had grounded me, who had stayed when I was trembling and broken. Who had let me lean on him when I had thought no one would ever care.
I closed my eyes, a small, shaky sigh escaping me. For the first time, I realized that no matter how much my parents tried to control the world around me, some things—they couldn't touch.
The thought made my chest tighten with both fear and longing. I didn't know what it meant yet, this pull toward him, this desire for the safety he offered. But I knew one thing: the warmth of his presence had changed something inside me, and I wasn't sure I wanted to let it go.
"Woo-jin," he began, voice even but carrying an edge that made my chest tighten, "I've been thinking about your… friendship."
I stiffened, gripping the edge of the chair. Every instinct screamed at me to leave, to hide, but there was no escape.
"You should consider… getting close to him," Father said, letting the words hang in the air. "Marry him. Jung Dae-hyun. It would be… useful. Connections, power, prestige. He is from a wealthy, influential family, and aligning yourself with him would secure your future."
I froze. My stomach churned with a mix of disbelief and rage. "Marry him?" I echoed, voice sharp, trembling. "You mean use him like you use everything else?"
Father's eyebrows rose slightly, as if impressed by my spirit. "It is pragmatic. You will gain stability. You will gain respect. You will gain protection from this family's… complications."
"Protection?" I laughed bitterly, voice shaking. "Is that what you call it? I won't become a pawn in your schemes. I'm not an object to be traded, and I will not marry anyone because it's 'useful'!"
He stepped closer, tone colder now, precise like a scalpel cutting into my defiance. "You will obey me. You will do as I say. This isn't about your feelings. This is about survival, about keeping our family's standing."
I shook my head violently. "I don't care about survival if it means being… being what you want me to be. I won't do any dirty work. I won't compromise myself for your gains!"
He studied me for a long moment, and I could see the mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled. But it was not a comforting smile—it was the cold satisfaction of someone who thinks they've been challenged, yet still believes they will win.
"You are stubborn," he said finally. "But don't think that pride will protect you from the consequences. You will regret defying me."
I swallowed hard, every breath tight and hot in my chest. My hands shook as I stood, voice louder now, fueled by something that surprised even me. "I'd rather regret standing up for myself than living as your puppet!"
Father's eyes narrowed. For a tense moment, the room was silent except for our harsh breathing.
Before I could catch my breath from my father's words, the door creaked open again. Mother stood there, perfectly composed in her designer blouse, lips pressed tight, hands on her hips like she owned the room.
"Woo-jin," she said, voice dripping with icy calm, "do you have any idea what you're doing? Do you even understand how your defiance will ruin the family reputation?"
I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. "Reputation?" I spat, my voice trembling with anger. "You mean your selfish image of perfection? Your lies? Your money? That's all you care about, isn't it?"
Mother's eyes narrowed, and before I could react, her hand shot forward. The slap landed across my cheek with a sharp crack. Pain flared, burning red across my skin, but worse than the sting was the humiliation.
"You insolent child!" she hissed, her face twisted with fury. "How dare you speak to me this way?"
I pressed a trembling hand to my cheek, tasting blood and fury. "You—you… how can you—" My voice broke. I wanted to scream, cry, run, but my body refused to move.
"You think you know better, but the world doesn't forgive weakness," she continued, stepping closer, her eyes blazing. "You think defiance is noble, but it will leave you alone, unprotected, vulnerable. You will regret this, mark my words!"
"I don't care!" I shouted, tears spilling down my face. "I'd rather face the world on my own than live like one of your puppets! I won't marry someone I don't love. I won't compromise myself for your ambitions! And I don't care about reputation—your reputation is not my life! I will certainly not use KANG DAE-HYUN!"
Her hands trembled slightly, a flicker of shock crossing her face as she stared at me. But it quickly hardened back into the cold mask of control. "You are being foolish," she said quietly. "No one else will take care of you. You will fail."
I stepped forward, trembling but defiant, fire burning in my chest. "Maybe I will fail! But at least I'll fail as myself, not as someone you want me to be. I hate your words—hate everything you call 'guidance'—and I won't let you control me anymore!"
She took a sharp step back, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Mark my words, Woo-jin," she said quietly, venom in every syllable, "this will follow you your whole life. You will rue the day you turned your back on your family."
I didn't respond. My chest heaved, tears spilling freely down my face, but I refused to let her see my fear. The sting of her slap still burned, but beneath it, a small, fierce sense of freedom began to grow. I had learned one thing: no matter how much they tried to dictate my life, I had a choice now. And I would make it.
She took of her shoe and started hitting me.
"Worthless."