The small meeting room felt suffocating, even though it wasn't physically cramped. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with scripts and awards, and the narrow table between Jiwoon and Kang Mirae seemed almost symbolic—a thin barrier separating honesty from deception. The script that had ignited the earlier confrontation lay on the table, a silent witness to the clash about to erupt.
Jiwoon stepped closer, his hand resting on the script, his eyes sharp and unyielding. "I need the truth, Mirae. How is it possible that this script is yours? It doesn't match your style at all. The pacing, the dialogue, the humor—everything about it screams someone else's work."
Mirae leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a faint, practiced smirk. "I've told you already. I found the base, I polished it, I made it better. Now it's mine. That's what matters."
Jiwoon's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer. Who wrote the original draft?"
Mirae's smirk faltered, but she quickly straightened herself, defiance sparking in her dark eyes. "I don't see why that matters. It's my work now."
Jiwoon's hand slammed lightly on the table, making the script jump. "Stop dodging! I know who the real author is, and it's not you."
Mirae froze, her smirk vanishing as shock flashed across her face. "…What do you mean?" she whispered.
"The author is Seo Ri," Jiwoon said calmly but firmly, letting each word land like a strike.
The room seemed to close in around her. Mirae's mouth opened, then closed, as if the words had betrayed her. Her defiance wavered, leaving only hesitation.
"…Fine," she finally admitted, her voice quiet, almost reluctant. "It's true. I found the script by accident. I was visiting the office for a meeting when I noticed a draft on Seo Ri's computer. I opened it… and I realized it had real potential. The story was raw but promising. I polished it, improved certain parts, and… presented it as my own."
Jiwoon's jaw tightened, his grip on the script pressing into the paper. "And you didn't think to tell her? To credit her for her work?"
Mirae leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her arrogance resurfacing. "Why would I? Who would have produced a story from a no-name like Seo Ri? The story had potential, yes, but it would have remained unseen otherwise. I made it into something people could actually read."
Jiwoon's expression hardened, his voice low, cutting. "That's plagiarism. That's theft. You didn't care about her rights, her effort, or her recognition. That story belongs to her, not you."
Mirae's eyes flicked up, defiance sparking once more. "I didn't steal it to hurt her. I made it better. I made it work. Isn't that what matters in the end?"
"No," Jiwoon said, voice tight. "What matters is honesty. What matters is integrity. And you violated both. I won't be a part of this. Not as long as this story is being claimed as yours."
Mirae's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—Jiwoon—"
"I'm done here." Jiwoon grabbed the script from the table, his movements swift and purposeful. Without another word, he strode toward the exit, the sound of his footsteps sharp in the quiet room.
Mirae opened her mouth to call after him, but no words came. She sank back into her chair, her face pale with a mixture of fury and a rare, uncomfortable awareness of guilt.
As Jiwoon reached the corridor leading to the building's exit, he slowed. Midway, he stopped. Standing before him was Seori, casual and composed, carrying nothing in her hands. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the hallway seemed to vanish.
Recognition struck like lightning. His shoulders stiffened. Memories of past arguments, rivalry, teasing, and laughter surged through him all at once. He could see her clearly now—Seori—his old rival, the one he never expected to see again.
Seori's heart skipped a beat, her hands clenching at her sides. It can't be… Jiwoon? she thought, disbelief and astonishment mixing in her chest.
Their eyes locked. Time slowed. Everything—the anger, the confrontation, the betrayal, the history of their rivalry—collapsed into this single suspended moment.
Jiwoon exhaled slowly, shaking his head, a faint mixture of frustration and resignation crossing his face. "Seori…" he murmured under his breath.
Seori's lips parted, ready to speak, but Jiwoon didn't wait. He turned and continued walking past her, leaving her standing there, stunned. The hallway suddenly seemed vast and silent, the echoes of their shared past hanging heavy in the air.
The encounter was fleeting, but its impact was profound. The truth about the script, Jiwoon's anger, Mirae's deception, and the recognition between Seori and Jiwoon—the weight of it all pressed down on the moment, unresolved, leaving tension and anticipation in its wake.