Hajun couldn't sleep.
He'd been lying in his bed for the past two hours, staring at the ceiling of his penthouse bedroom, watching shadows from the city lights play across the white expanse above him. His mind kept circling back to the same thing.
*Han Yuri.*
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. He'd seen hundreds of girls at Seongmin—pretty girls, interesting girls, girls who actually wanted his attention. But none of them had looked at him the way Yuri did.
Which was to say: she didn't look at him at all.
Hajun rolled over, grabbed his phone off the nightstand. 3:47 AM. He had school in four hours. He should be sleeping. Instead, he was thinking about a girl who worked the night shift at a shitty convenience store in Hongdae.
*Why the fuck does she work there?*
The question had been eating at him since he'd left the store. Seongmin High wasn't cheap—even with a scholarship, there had to be fees, supplies, all that shit. And she was working until 2 AM on a school night, which meant she needed the money.
But why?
Hajun sat up, running a hand through his hair. His bedroom was bigger than most people's apartments—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seoul, minimalist furniture that cost more than a car, bathroom with a tub that could fit four people. Everything perfect. Everything expensive. Everything meaningless.
He fucking hated it sometimes.
His phone buzzed. Text from Jihoon: *dude why are you active at 4am*
Hajun typed back: *cant sleep*
*thinking about a girl?*
*fuck off*
*LMAO so yes. who is she*
Hajun didn't respond. He tossed his phone aside and got out of bed. Sleep wasn't happening. He might as well do something productive.
The penthouse was silent. His father was in Beijing on business—always on business. His stepmother was probably in her own wing of the apartment; they barely spoke. His sister was at boarding school in Switzerland. It was just Hajun and the staff, and the staff knew better than to bother him.
He was alone. Always fucking alone.
Hajun went to the kitchen, poured himself water, stood by the window looking out at the city. Seoul never slept. Even at 4 AM, there were lights everywhere, cars on the roads, the pulse of millions of people living their lives.
Somewhere out there, Yuri was probably just getting home from work.
He'd followed her tonight. Not in a creepy way—or at least, he told himself it wasn't creepy. He'd just wanted to see where she went after school. She'd taken the subway to Gangnam for tutoring, then to Hongdae for her convenience store shift. He'd watched her through the window for a while before going in.
She looked tired. Not just regular tired—*exhausted*. Like she was running on fumes and willpower.
And when those drunk assholes had harassed her, her expression hadn't changed at all. Like she was used to it. Like it happened all the time and she'd learned to just... endure.
That's what bothered him. The enduring. The way she moved through the world like she was trying not to disturb the air around her.
*What are you running from?*
Hajun's phone buzzed again. This time it was his father: *Board meeting at 9. You're attending.*
No "good morning." No "how are you." Just orders.
Hajun typed back: *I have school*
*This is more important. Car will pick you up at 8:30.*
He stared at the message, jaw tight. He could refuse. He could just... not go. But then there'd be a lecture about responsibility, about legacy, about how he was the heir to Cheonha Group and he needed to start acting like it.
*Fine,* he typed back.
He was eighteen years old and he'd never made a single real choice in his life. Everything was decided for him—where he went to school, what he studied, who he socialized with, what company he'd run someday. Even his fucking bedroom had been decorated by an interior designer without asking what he wanted.
The only thing he got to choose was which girl to pay attention to.
And right now, he was choosing Han Yuri.
---
The car picked Hajun up at exactly 8:30. Black Mercedes, driver in a suit, the works. He sat in the back, still in his school uniform because he'd have to go to school after the meeting, and reviewed the briefing documents his father's secretary had sent.
Quarterly earnings. Merger discussions. Stock projections. All shit he didn't care about but had to pretend he did.
The Cheonha Group headquarters was in Gangnam, a fifty-story tower of glass and steel with the company logo at the top. Hajun had been coming here since he was a kid. He knew every floor, every department, every fake smile from executives who wanted to kiss his ass because he was the boss's son.
He hated every inch of it.
The board meeting was on the forty-eighth floor. Hajun walked in and every head turned. Twenty men in expensive suits, all at least twice his age, all looking at him like he was a curiosity. The heir. The future.
"Hajun," his father said from the head of the table. Lee Dongmin, CEO of Cheonha Group, looked exactly like Hajun would in thirty years—same sharp features, same cold eyes, same expression that gave nothing away. "Sit."
Hajun sat.
The meeting was three hours of corporate bullshit. Numbers, projections, arguments about market share. Hajun paid attention because he had to, but his mind kept wandering.
*She works until 2 AM. Gets home at what, 2:30? 3? Then has to be at school by 8.*
*That's maybe four hours of sleep. Five if she's lucky.*
*How the fuck is she maintaining perfect grades on that schedule?*
"Hajun."
He snapped back to attention. His father was looking at him, expression flat.
"I asked you a question."
*Shit.*
"Could you repeat it?" Hajun said, his voice even.
One of the executives snickered. His father's jaw tightened.
"I asked what you thought about the merger proposal."
Hajun hadn't been listening. He had no idea what merger they were talking about. But he'd learned early how to bullshit his way through these situations.
"I think we need more data before making a decision," he said. Generic enough to apply to anything. "The risk assessment seems incomplete."
His father stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded. "Agreed. Park, get me those numbers by Friday."
Crisis averted.
The meeting ended at noon. Hajun's father pulled him aside as everyone filed out.
"You weren't paying attention."
"I was—"
"Don't lie to me." His father's voice was quiet, which made it more dangerous. "If you're going to be in these meetings, you need to be present. Otherwise, you're wasting everyone's time."
"Then maybe I shouldn't be in these meetings," Hajun shot back. "I'm still in high school. I have exams, college applications—"
"You're the heir to Cheonha Group. That's more important than high school."
"To you."
The words hung between them. His father's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Anger? Disappointment? Hajun couldn't tell anymore.
"The car will take you to school," his father said finally. "Don't embarrass me again."
He walked away.
Hajun stood there, fists clenched, wanting to put his hand through the floor-to-ceiling window. Instead, he took a breath and headed for the elevator.
---
He got to school halfway through lunch period. The cafeteria was packed, loud, everyone clustered in their usual groups. Hajun walked in and the noise level dropped slightly. People noticed him. They always noticed him.
"Dude!" Jihoon appeared at his elbow, grinning. "You're late. Where were you?"
"Board meeting."
"Fuck, seriously? On a school day?"
"My father doesn't give a shit about school days."
They grabbed food—not that Hajun was hungry—and sat at their usual table. Min Sera was already there, along with a few other people from their group. The elite kids. The ones whose families owned half of Seoul.
"Hajun!" Sera smiled, bright and practiced. "I was starting to think you were ditching."
"Just busy," Hajun said, pushing rice around his plate.
"Busy with what?" She leaned closer, her perfume overwhelming. "Or should I say... busy with who?"
Jihoon kicked him under the table. Hajun ignored it.
"Work stuff," he said.
"So boring." Sera pouted. "You should come out with us this weekend. Karaoke in Apgujeong, my treat."
"Maybe."
He wasn't going to go. He never went to these things anymore. They were all the same—expensive venues, expensive drinks, expensive people pretending to have fun while really just networking for their parents.
Sera kept talking, but Hajun tuned her out. His eyes scanned the cafeteria, looking for...
There.
Yuri was sitting alone in the far corner, eating something from a convenience store container. Her head was down, textbook open in front of her. Even in a room full of hundreds of students, she managed to look completely isolated.
*How does she do that?*
"—don't you think, Hajun?"
He realized Sera was talking to him. "What?"
"I said, don't you think the new history teacher is totally incompetent?"
"Sure."
Sera frowned, following his gaze. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing."
But Jihoon had already seen. He glanced at Yuri, then back at Hajun, eyebrows raised.
*Shit.*
"I have to go," Hajun said, standing up.
"What? We just sat down—"
But he was already walking away, heading toward the library. He could feel Sera's eyes on his back, could practically hear the gossip starting already.
The library was quieter. Hajun walked through the stacks, not really looking for anything, just needing space to think.
*Why the fuck am I so fixated on her?*
He'd seen her for the first time three weeks ago, the first day of senior year. She'd been sitting in the back of their Korean literature class, taking notes with perfect handwriting, and when the teacher had asked a question, everyone's hand had gone up except hers.
But when the teacher called on her anyway, she'd answered perfectly. Concisely. Then immediately went back to her notes like the interaction hadn't happened.
That's when Hajun had really looked at her. And once he started looking, he couldn't stop.
There was something about the way she moved. Careful. Controlled. Like she was constantly calculating every action, every word, every expression. Like she was playing a part.
And Hajun—who'd been playing a part his entire life—recognized it immediately.
He found himself walking toward the section where he'd seen her yesterday. And there she was again, same corner, same textbook.
She looked up as he approached. For a split second, something crossed her face—fear? annoyance?—before it smoothed into nothing.
"Hi," Hajun said.
Yuri didn't respond. Just looked at him, waiting.
"You're in my Korean lit class."
"I know."
"I'm Hajun. Lee Hajun."
"I know," she repeated.
The silence stretched. Hajun realized he had no idea what to say next. He'd never had to work for a conversation before. People always wanted to talk to him.
"So... you work at that convenience store in Hongdae?"
Something flickered in her eyes. "Yes."
"That's a long commute from Gangnam."
"It pays well."
"But you have school. And from what I've heard, you have perfect grades. When do you sleep?"
Yuri closed her textbook slowly. "Why are you asking me this?"
"I'm curious."
"About what?"
"About you."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she started packing up her things.
"Wait—"
"I have class," Yuri said, standing up. "Excuse me."
She walked past him, not quite brushing his shoulder, and Hajun caught the faintest scent of cheap soap and exhaustion.
He watched her go, frustration building in his chest.
*What the fuck.*
Every other girl at this school would kill for his attention. And Han Yuri acted like he was an inconvenience.
Jihoon appeared beside him. "Dude. What are you doing?"
"What?"
"Han Yuri? The scholarship student? You're interested in her?"
"So what if I am?"
"So... she's not exactly your type."
"I don't have a type."
"Your type is usually 'rich, available, and interested.'" Jihoon grinned. "She's none of those things."
"That's why she's interesting."
Jihoon's expression turned serious. "Be careful, man. You're Lee Hajun. Your attention isn't neutral. For someone like her, it could be... complicated."
"I'm not going to hurt her."
"I didn't say you would. I said be careful."
Hajun didn't respond. He was still watching the door Yuri had disappeared through.
For the first time in his life, someone had walked away from him.
And for the first time in his life, Hajun wanted something he couldn't just have by virtue of being who he was.
*Han Yuri.*
He was going to figure her out. Whatever it took.
Even if she didn't want to be figured out.
---
That night, Hajun lay in bed again, unable to sleep again. But this time, he wasn't just thinking about Yuri.
He was planning.
He pulled out his phone and started researching. Scholarships at Seongmin High, what they covered, what they didn't. Part-time job wages. Cost of living in Seoul.
The numbers didn't add up. Even with a full scholarship and two jobs, Yuri would barely be breaking even. Which meant there was something else. Some other expense, some other pressure.
*What are you running from?*
His phone buzzed. Another message from his father: *Tomorrow, 7 AM. Breakfast meeting with investors. Be ready.*
Hajun stared at the message. Then he typed back: *No.*
The response came immediately: *Excuse me?*
*I have school. I have exams. I'm not missing class for your meetings anymore.*
The phone rang. Hajun declined the call.
It rang again. He declined again.
Then: *We'll discuss this when I'm back in Seoul. You're making a mistake.*
Hajun turned off his phone.
His heart was hammering. He'd never refused his father before. Never pushed back. Never chosen something for himself.
But he was choosing now.
He was choosing to go to school tomorrow. To see Yuri. To figure out why a girl who worked herself to exhaustion still managed to look right through him like he didn't exist.
For the first time in three years—since his mother died and his world fell apart—Hajun felt something other than numbness.
He felt *interested.*
And that was dangerous.
But he didn't care.