**Kang Yejun P.O.V**
I stood alone, staring at the snowy sky. Snowflakes fell softly, like tiny, cold whispers. My breath formed little clouds in the cold air. The chill seeped into my bones, but it wasn't the cold that saddened me. It was the weight of disappointment and self-hatred burdening my heart.
Heewon had given me some time and space to think and find peace. He stayed close enough to be there but far enough to leave me undisturbed. The gentle rustle of leaves and distant chirping of birds filled the silence, creating a serene backdrop for my thoughts.
I sighed, thinking about the people who had believed in me since I started this career. My grandfather, who had always been so proud of me and constantly supported me from our province. Heewon, who had cheered me on and always been there to help me, the best manager I could ask for. They all expected so much, yet I felt like I was slowly disappointing them.
I feared letting them down, seeing their disappointed faces. I tried, but this illness made it hard.
What if I never get better? What if this condition ruins everything? My fans around the world—they're my family too. Their support made me who I am. The fear of failure gnawed at me, making my heart race. I imagined losing their support, feeling their silent disappointment. What if they thought I didn't try hard enough? The thought of their judgment was unbearable. My mind spiraled with worst-case scenarios. The pressure was suffocating. No matter what I did, it felt like it would never be enough.
Doubt crept in like a dark cloud, obscuring any glimmer of hope. What if they abandon me, tired of my excuses? I could see myself standing alone, a failure in their eyes. I pictured my grandparents, faces etched with disappointment, turning away from me. I saw Heewon, frustrated and exhausted, giving up on me. The weight of these thoughts was crushing. My chest tightened. Every mistake, every missed opportunity crashed over me like a tidal wave. I felt trapped in negativity, convinced I was a disappointment, and that my best efforts will never be enough to make up for myself in their eyes.
I looked down, blaming myself. Why am I like this? Why did I get this stupid illness?
Even the lightest touch felt like a burn, like creatures crawling on my skin. It was disgusting, so disgusting that I couldn't help but vomit and be in pain.
I remembered every scene where I had to pull away from a simple hug or a hand on my shoulder. People didn't understand. They looked offended, confused, seeing me as rude. Yet, I couldn't explain that it wasn't them, but my own brokenness that kept me distant.
I looked up at the sky, feeling empty as dark shadows consumed my mind.
The snow kept falling, covering the ground in a thick, white blanket. It was beautiful, but it felt like a shroud, covering my hopes and dreams. I thought about my future and felt a deep, aching sadness. I wanted to be strong for those who believed in me, but I felt so weak.
I closed my eyes, letting a single tear escape. It was warm against my cold skin. I hated myself for being this way, for not being able to give back the love and support I received. The sky, vast and indifferent, seemed to mirror my feelings. Cold, distant, and filled with quiet sorrow.
A voice with quiet strength interrupted my thoughts. A woman stood beside me, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Life's twists can be really tough," she began. "But sometimes, the hardest challenges can help you discover strength you didn't know you had. Your struggles are big, but they don't define who you are."
I stood still, absorbing her words, though indifferent at first. "Fear can really hold you back," she continued, her gaze unwavering, "but it also gives you a chance to be brave. Face it head-on, because growth happens when you're uncomfortable."
The street's music played on, a backdrop to our fateful exchange. "When everything feels uncertain," she spoke, her words weaving into the urban melody, "try to find peace in the little things around you. Like the cherry blossoms falling—they show that even when things end, new beginnings can come."
I felt a sudden urge to laugh at the irony. Here she was, unexpectedly offering advice to a complete stranger. Despite the bustling city, she found herself advising me, someone she had never met before. Strange and cringe-worthy as it may sound, there was an undeniable sincerity in her guidance.
"Don't let setbacks define your story," she encouraged me. "Every 'no' is just a part of your journey, not the end. Your path, with all its ups and downs, makes your story unique. Keep moving forward with resilience and passion."
I didn't speak or move, almost like a statue on the bench under the cherry tree, lost in thought and tired.
"Frustration is just wasted energy if you don't use it for something positive," she said, her gaze lingering on the distant horizon. "Let your disappointment drive you. Use this challenge to show yourself and others that you can overcome anything. Success that comes from overcoming adversity is the sweetest kind."
She smirked, as if remembering something. "Remember that. I don't know everything you're going through, but I hope something I said helps."
As she was about to step forward, I felt a sudden desperation and clung to her winter coat. Even I was surprised but still, I asked. Her words made me feel like she was reliable and oddly enough, like she understood me.
She turned, ready to brush me off, when I quickly spoke. "Why?" I asked. Why do I have to suffer from this? I feel like a lost soul, wandering around, finding reason for my suffering.
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't have all the answers to your questions." With that, she gently tugged her coat free.
Or not...
I watched her walk away, my mind still clouded. Before I could clear my thoughts and speak again, she had already disappeared into the crowd. I stared at where she vanished and looked up at the sky again.
"Grandma... I miss you."
I felt a familiar presence beside me. Heewon approached.
"It's getting late, let's go."
I nodded.