The city glowed beneath Kang Haeun's apartment, a patchwork of steel and neon stitched together by traffic and late-night noise. The skyline stretched endlessly from the floor-to-ceiling window, but it felt as far away as ever. She stood motionless, arms wrapped around herself, forehead resting lightly against sthe glass. Morning sunlight crept into the room like it was unsure of its welcome.
From up here, everything looked small—cars, people, problems. But Haeun knew better. The world was loud and cruel, and no amount of glass could protect her from it forever.
"Another day hiding behind this mask…" she whispered. "How long can I keep pretending?"
The faint buzz of her phone on the counter interrupted her thoughts. She turned and reached for it without any rush. It was a message. Short. Familiar.
Rihan:Be careful today. Don't slip up.
Her lips tugged into something that wasn't quite a smile. She replied quickly.
Haeun:I won't.
And yet, even as she hit send, she knew it wasn't true.
The school gate felt like a battlefield. Noise clanged from every corner—laughter, gossip, the sound of shoes against concrete. Haeun walked in quietly, her hoodie pulled low, her head down. She moved with practiced calm, ignoring the eyes that tracked her. They always did.
Two girls passed behind her, just loud enough for her to hear.
"Did you see her shoes?" one girl sneered. "So cheap."
"She looks scary. Like she's from a gang or something," another muttered.
Haeun said nothing. Her grip on her bag tightened, but her face didn't change. She'd heard worse. People always talked when they didn't understand. It was easier to paint someone more dangerous than admit they didn't fit into your picture.
In the classroom, the noise changed. New energy. Curious whispers. When the teacher entered with a stranger, the room's attention shifted in one synchronized breath.
"This is Lee Minjae," the teacher announced. "He's transferring from Busan."
The boy beside him bowed, polite and composed. "Hello everyone. I'm Lee Minjae. I'm from Busan, and I'm excited to be here."
"You can take the seat next to Haeun," the teacher added.
A few students exchanged glances. A boy in the front muttered under his breath, "Don't get near that girl. She's trouble."
Minjae didn't seem to notice. He looked toward the back of the room, where Haeun sat with her arms folded and her face unreadable. For the briefest moment, their eyes met.
Then she looked away.
He made his way to the desk beside her and sat down without hesitation. She didn't acknowledge him. Not even a glance.
By lunchtime, the cafeteria buzzed with energy. Haeun sat alone in her usual spot by the windows, stirring her rice without much interest. A shadow fell over her tray.
"Hey…" Minjae said, tray in hand. "Can I sit with you?"
She raised her eyes slowly. Her stare was sharp, calm.
"If you want to," she said coolly.
He started to lower his tray when three girls appeared behind him, all polished nails and loud perfume.
"Seriously?" one of them said with mock surprise. "You want to sit with her?"
"She's trouble," another girl added, flashing a smug smile. "Don't say we didn't warn you."
Minjae looked unsure. Haeun, however, turned her head and stared the girls down.
"He can sit wherever he wants," she said. "Unless you have a problem with that?"
There was no emotion in her voice. Just quiet confidence that made the girls falter. They rolled their eyes and walked off, whispering to each other.
Minjae finally took the seat.
"Thanks," he said softly. "I'm Minjae."
"Haeun," she replied, not looking at him.
A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke again.
"You're really not like anyone else here."
"I don't do small talk," Haeun said, eyes still on her tray. "Just eat your lunch."
Minjae chuckled. "Alright. No talking. Just eating."
"Good." A small smirk danced on her lips. "Now shut up and eat."
That night, the apartment smelled faintly of popcorn and laundry detergent. Haeun lounged on the couch, oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, scrolling through her phone half-mindedly.
The front door clicked open.
"Oppa…?" she called, sitting up.
She barely had time to react before Rihan stepped into the hallway, dropping a duffel bag by the shoe rack.
"Hey, little idiot," he said with a grin. "Miss me?"
She leapt off the couch and threw her arms around him without a second thought.
"Yeah, I did!" she said, squeezing him tightly. "And don't call me idiot. Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?"
"Thought I'd surprise you," Rihan replied, hugging her back. "Gotta keep an eye on you, you know?"
"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes as they walked into the living room. "Just don't embarrass me."
"Only a little," he teased.
Later, they sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them and a random movie playing in the background.
"So…" Rihan said between bites, "any secret admirers?"
Haeun raised an eyebrow. "Just one weird transfer student who doesn't know when to quit."
"Ooooh," Rihan sang. "What's his name? Tall? Cute? Mysterious past?"
"Shut up." She tossed a pillow at his face. "He's just normal. Talks like I'm not radioactive."
"Aww," Rihan said with a dramatic sigh. "He sees past the scary aura. That's love."
"It's not."
"Sure, sure. But don't give him your Netflix password yet. That's basically marriage."
"You're the worst," Haeun muttered.
"And still your favorite."
"You're my only sibling."
"Which makes it worse for you," he replied smugly.
They broke into laughter, the kind that came easy when you were safe.
Later that night, when everything was quiet and her brother had gone to bed, Haeun lay awake in the dark. The ceiling above her seemed lower tonight, like it was pressing down on her thoughts.
"If they find out who I really am…" she murmured, "everything will end."
Her phone buzzed.
She reached for it, blinking at the screen. The number was unfamiliar.
One new message.
Unknown Number: We know who you really are. Stop hiding.
Her fingers froze. The glow of the screen illuminated her wide, terrified eyes.
They knew.