Three Years Ago
The day had been long, and as a trainee still finding her footing, I was eager to get home. The company building was quieting down, and I tucked my things away, ready to leave.
Just as I stepped outside, without warning, rain started pouring down in heavy sheets, soaking everything within a moment.
I scrambled, stepping back a little.
My heart sank-I hadn't brought an umbrella. I totally forgot to check the weather today.
As I was about to enter the building again, I saw my bus.
"W-wait! Hey!" I shouted, dashed accross the street,to the small bus shelter a few feet away, not minding the rain.
Unfortunately, the bus already left when I reached the shelter.
Fuck.
I'm far from a dry decent person, water dripping from my hair and let's not talk about my clothes.
I was surprised when a girl stand calmly beside me.
She held her umbrella low, and tilted it just enough to shield me from the worst of the rain without drawing attention.
I looked up, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness in her eyes.
Embrassed yet feeling greatful for her action, I spoke,
"T-thank you... didn't expect this rain."
"It comes without warning sometimes." She said, voice soft, her eyes glued in front, not even sparing me a glance.
I nodded, shivering despite the shelter, her umbrella and our closeness. "Yeah...forgot my umbrella today,guess I'm not ready."
"Can you hold my umbrella?"
"Sure"
Unexpectedly she removed her jacket. Handing it to me.
I unconsciously accept it.
"Wear it. You're shivering and... I don't trust men when a woman's looking like...that."
She's still not looking at me. So I scan myself and .....shit.
I immediately wear her jacket.
I forgot.
I totally forgot what I'm wearing.
I laughed nervously.
For a moment, the rain pattered between us, and the thick awkwardness.
Suddenly, headlights cut through the gray as a black car rolled up and stopped right in front of the shelter.
She glanced toward it. "That's me. Got to run."
I barely got the words out: " Wait, thanks-for sharing the umbrella, I mean."
She looked back over her shoulder with a brief smile.
And just like that, she was gone, leaving me with her umbrella and an unexpected warmth behind.
~
As a trainee, I thought passion and hard work would be enough-but I quickly learned it wasn't. The other trainees, some seniors too, made sure I knew I didn't quite belong.
Whispered jokes when I walked by.
Eyes that flicked away just as I looked.
Mistakes exaggerated, kindness ignored.
It wasn't just tough; it was lonely.
I kept pushing, pretending it didn't hurt, but inside, I was cracking.
I wanted so badly to fit in, to prove I had what it took, but the weight of their judgment was crushing.
I felt invisible and exposed all at once.
The training room was filled with the sound of squeaking rubber shoes on the polished floor as the other trainees gathered in a loose circle, their whispers cutting through the air like knives.
I tried to focus on my routine, but the tension was suffocating.
"Look who's still messing up the simplest steps,"
one girl sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Laughter echoed around me.
Another stepped closer, eyes cold. "You really don't belong here, do you? Maybe you should just quit before you embarrass yourself more."
I clenched my fists, stopping myself not to cry. Every mistake felt magnified under their gaze, every misstep a confirmation of their quiet judgment.
When I faltered during the next move, a senior trainee smirked and whispered, "That's why no one takes you seriously. You're a dead weight."
The group's laughter crescendoed.
My cheeks burned, but I forced myself to hold my head high, swallowing the lump in my throat, and kept dancing-because quitting wasn't an option.
Not yet.
But inside, the cold ache of loneliness deepened.
It doesn't stop there, the pain didn't end when I left the studio.
At home, the cold welcome was just as sharp.
"Why can't you be better? You're wasting your time and ours," my mother would say, eyes never softening.
My father's disappointment was even worse-a constant reminder that nothing I did was ever enough. "Look at our relatives. Why can't you be more like them?"
I learned early that love came with conditions.
Their cold words and dismissive attitudes chipped away at my confidence, making me feel alone in a battle no one else wanted to fight.
That's why that girl's kindness never left my thoughts.
Never left my heart.
Because that's the only time that I felt a genuine warmth.
~
I leaned against the cool hallway wall, trying to steady my breathing while every nerve in my body was on high alert.
I'd shown up earlier than usual, deliberately slipping into a quiet corner where I could watch her without drawing attention-just to have a moment with her, even if she didn't know I was there.
She moved through the room with that effortless coolness-setting up her camera, adjusting the lights, talking softly with her friends.
Every little detail caught my eye: the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the slight furrow in her brow when she concentrated, that soft laugh like a secret I wasn't part of.
Over the past weeks, I'd quietly gathered fragments about her- Kim Minjeong. The name had come up in passing during a brief conversation between her friends.
I found out she went to a university just a few blocks from my trainee building, one I'd walked past countless times without ever knowing she was there too. Somehow, that small connection made her feel closer, more real.
Time slipped by as I stayed frozen, part hopeful, part terrified.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her glance up.
Our eyes met for a brief second.
-or not.
I thought I saw something in her gaze-recognition? Curiosity?
But then she was already looking away, returning to her work like nothing happened.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to step forward, to find the courage to just say hello. But the words caught in my throat.
So instead, I stayed still, watching her from afar.
~
Who would have thought that after months of grinding through endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and biting back tears when the pressure got too much, I finally made it.
I debuted.
The flashing lights, the roaring crowds-they were everything I'd dreamed of and more.
Despite the cheers and applause, my thoughts always drifted to Minjeong. As I climbed higher, this feelings I have for her only grew fiercer.
I found myself scouring social media, piecing together her schedule, learning her favorite coffee shop, even the routes she took between work and home. Watching from a safe distance became my ritual, the only way I felt connected to her world.
Sometimes, I'd catch a glimpse of her in the background of videos or photos from events.
Those moments sent a jolt through me-proof she was real, that she was there, just beyond my reach.
As days passed by, I realized that it wasn't just admiration anymore.
It was something deeper, darker-a craving for any contact, any sign, no matter how small.
I couldn't stop.
I don't need to.
I'm not planning to.
Every success felt hollow without her knowing who I was.
Every smile I gave on stage masked the ache of wanting to be noticed by her-the one person who'd unknowingly ignited this fire inside me years ago with a simple act of kindness.
And so, I kept watching, waiting for that moment when our worlds might finally collide.