Chaeyoung's patience was wearing thin, a trait she'd struggled with her entire life. Standing outside the restaurant, she tapped her foot impatiently, her anger simmering like a pot about to boil over. Where was her driver? The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace, each one fueling her frustration.
Just as she was about to give up hope, the sleek limousine pulled up, its tinted windows glinting in the fading light. Chaeyoung's anger hadn't dissipated, but she slid into the luxurious interior without a word, her silence a testament to her growing irritation.
As she scrolled through her private Instagram account, she stumbled upon Lim Yoona's profile. The posts were a carefully curated facade, showcasing a life that wasn't hers.
Chaeyoung's eyes narrowed as she scrolled through the feed, the images of her body and luxury items that didn't belong to Yoona screaming of artifice. "Can't people just be real?", Chaeyoung whispered to herself, the question echoing her own feelings about her stepmother, Eunji.
Eunji was Mr. Park's third wife, and Chaeyoung's mother, Misa, was his second. Misa had been a divorced woman, raising Chaeyoung and her elder sister, Yoonmi, on her own after escaping an abusive marriage.
When Mr. Park lost his first wife to cancer, he married Misa, a kind-hearted woman who'd worked as a maid in his household, just before he was elected President. But despite the newfound stability, their family struggled to make ends meet, with pending bills and financial uncertainty hanging over them like a dark cloud.
Misa's role as a maid in Mr. Park's household had seemed like a blessing, but it ultimately led to a complicated marriage. For a brief moment, Chaeyoung and her sister, Yoonmi, had a father figure in their lives, and the family appeared happy. However, the facade crumbled rapidly.
Just months before Mr. Park's presidential inauguration, and mere weeks after giving birth to his third daughter, Chaeyoung's father was caught in an affair with Eunji. Misa's eyes had witnessed the betrayal, and she needed no explanation. The truth hit her like a ton of bricks: "It was too good to be true."
As the reality of the situation set in, Jongnan, Chaeyoung's father, became desperate to contain the scandal. He would stop at nothing to keep Misa silent, even agreeing to a divorce. But there was a dark secret that Chaeyoung would never know about her past - her mother's tragic fate.
Misa, determined to expose Jongnan's infidelity, threatened to reveal the truth to the press if he didn't grant her a divorce. In a chilling attempt to silence her, Jongnan chased Misa in his car, determined to protect his reputation at any cost. With Chaeyoung and her siblings in tow, Misa sped through the dark roads of Seoul, Jongnan hot on her heels, his actions driven by a ruthless desire for self-preservation.
As the car sped down the dark road, little Chaeyoung's voice trembled with fear. "Mummy, what's going on?" she asked, unaware of the danger unfolding around her. Her mother's reassuring smile faltered for a moment before she replied, "Don't worry, darling. Nothing's wrong." Yoonmi, equally frightened, echoed Chaeyoung's question, "Are you sure?" Her mother's gentle voice soothed her, "Yes, my love."
Those were the last words Chaeyoung heard from her mother and sister before the car collided with a speeding truck driven by a drunkard. In the aftermath, only Chaeyoung and her sister Yeojin survived. Chaeyoung lost the two most important people in her life at the tender age of seven, unaware of the sinister forces that had led to the tragic accident.
Her father, Jongnan, took her in, despite her not being his biological daughter. He never mentioned Yeojin, but Chaeyoung knew her sister was out there, alone and adrift.
As she returned to the present, Chaeyoung's thoughts lingered on Yeojin. "If only I knew where Yeojin was," she whispered to herself, her heart heavy with longing. Exhausted and devastated, she trudged up to her room, collapsing onto her bed without changing, the weight of her memories threatening to consume her.
Eunji's disdain for Chaeyoung was rooted in the fact that she saw her as a potential obstacle to the luxuries she would enjoy as the President's wife. Chaeyoung had grown accustomed to her stepmother's pretenses, and it only fueled her distaste for the woman's insincerity.
Chaeyoung's reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," she said, but the knocking persisted. "What is it?! Come in," she called out, her patience wearing thin.
The door creaked open, and a maid bowed low, greeting her with a soft "Good morning, ma'am." Chaeyoung ignored the greeting and asked curtly, "What?"
The maid hesitated before speaking, "Mr. Park has asked to see you this evening for dinner—"
Chaeyoung cut her off, her tone icy. "If it's to continue what he started last night, then I'm not coming. Tell him I said that." The maid nodded hastily and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Chaeyoung groaned and glanced at the wall clock opposite her bed. "Gosh, it's already six? I'm going to be late," she muttered to herself. She slowly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. An hour later, she grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs, skipping breakfast in her haste to avoid being late.
As Chaeyoung stepped out of the house, she was taken aback to find her limousine missing from its usual spot. She spotted her driver, Mr. Xian, at a distance and called out to him. "Mr. Xian, where's my limo?" she asked, her tone laced with a mix of annoyance and expectation.
Mr. Xian approached her, his demeanor respectful despite the age gap. "My apologies, young mistress, but last night, your father instructed me that I wouldn't be driving you to and from school anymore". "What?! And my escort?", she asked. Mr. Xian nodded in a disappointed manner.
Chaeyoung's frustration simmered over. "What sort of punishment is that?" she muttered, more to herself than Mr. Xian. Realizing she was running late, she opted for the next best option – the bus.
It had been over a decade since she'd last taken public transportation, and the unfamiliar surroundings made her feel uneasy. Worse still, people began to stare and whisper.
"Isn't that the President's daughter?", "What is she doing on the bus?". The murmurs escalated, and before long, paparazzi appeared out of nowhere, cameras snapping wildly as they chased her for questions. Chaeyoung darted into a nearby tteokbokki shop, losing the media frenzy in the crowded alley.
Breathless and bent over, she muttered to herself, "Now I'm stuck, unable to go to school without being hounded?". A confused "Uh..." from right in front of her interrupted her thoughts.
"Just perfect," Chaeyoung muttered under her breath, her sarcasm evident as she looked up to see Lee Joon standing in front of her. "Do you need help?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.
Chaeyoung shook her head. "No, thank you." As she glanced around the street, her thoughts drifted to her father. "I'm sure he sent them," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.
Just then, her stomach growled, reminding her she'd skipped breakfast. Joon's eyes lit up as he handed her a plate of simple breakfast. "Here you go. I know it's not much, but it's better than nothing."
Chaeyoung's gaze fell on the plate, and she took it gratefully. "Thank you." As she took a bite, Joon encouraged her, "You haven't tried it before? It's good, try it."
"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" Chaeyoung asked, her mouth full. Joon's eyes softened as he replied, "My halmeoni isn't feeling well, so I told her I'd open the shop for her."
As Chaeyoung ate, Joon's gaze lingered on her, making her look up in confusion. "What? Never seen a hungry girl before?" she teased.
Joon's face flushed as he scratched the back of his head. "Oh, sorry about that. You're just... pretty." Chaeyoung's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and she spluttered, "WHAT THE—!" Her shock and surprise mingled with a flutter in her chest, catching her off guard.
As an empath, Joon sensed the shift in Chaeyoung's emotions. Her dark aura had begun to dissipate, but it flared up again as she hastily departed. "Wait, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable..." he called out, but she was already gone.
Chaeyoung's mind wandered as she rushed to school. "Gosh, it's 8 am, and I'm not even at school yet," she muttered, recalling her tardiness. Then, Joon's earlier words replayed in her mind: 'You're just... pretty.' 'Where did that come from?', she wondered, her pace quickening.
As she arrived at school, luckily, all students were in class. She slipped into her next class, and her English teacher, Mr. Han, turned to her. "Miss Park, you're rate," he said, his English pronunciation off.
Chaeyoung corrected him with a hint of amusement, "Sorry, Mr. Han, but it's 'You're late' not 'You're rate'." She settled into the back seat, resting her head on her table.
Mr. Han, aware of her privileged status, couldn't do much, even if he wanted to. The English class dragged on, but eventually, lunchtime arrived, providing a welcome respite.
Chaeyoung navigated the school hallways, her stomach growling with hunger. The students' gazes followed her, but not because of her appearance; it was the amazement of her presence and aura that drew their attention.
After her last confrontation with Chaeyoung, Yoona had seemingly vanished from school life, and she had kept her word, staying away.
To make matters worse, Chaeyoung's father had cut off her credit card, and every attempt to purchase lunch from the exclusive Diamond-rank cafeteria section resulted in a declined payment. "What's he going to cut next? My life support?" she muttered to herself, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
As students whispered among themselves, rumors began to spread like wildfire. "I heard she took the bus," one student said. "I wasn't on the same bus as her, but I heard she looked out of place," another added. "I saw her duck into a tteokbokki shop, like she was hiding from someone," a third chimed in.
Just as Chaeyoung expected nothing but more chaos, Joon appeared, standing silently beside her. His calm presence was a stark contrast to the swirling rumors and her own turmoil. He didn't say a word at first, simply standing there, his gaze fixed on her.
"If you're admiring how 'pretty' I am, I'll pass", Chaeyoung said, her tone laced with sarcasm as she emphasized the word. Joon attempted to apologize, "Sorry about earlier. It came out the wrong way—"
But Chaeyoung cut him off, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "So I'm not pretty?" She didn't seem to realize the words had slipped out, and Joon's response was immediate. "No, no, you're pretty, but it came out the wrong way..."
As they spoke, nearby junior students began to whisper among themselves. "Is he asking her out?" one of them speculated. "No way, he is!" another replied.
Chaeyoung's attention shifted to the juniors, her expression darkening. "You juniors piss me off. Remember what happened to one of your people? Is she here now?" Her words were laced with a veiled threat, and the juniors' faces paled in response.
Satisfied with the fear she had instilled, Chaeyoung let out her signature light smirk, a subtle display of her power and influence.