"You bastard, how dare you look me in the eyes?"
"Look down. Look at my shoes."
The boy grabbed Hyun Woo by the collar. His face was already swollen, his eyes red, his hair messy from all the punches.
Hyun Woo kept staring back at him. Even while being hit, he still looked him in the eyes.
But after hearing that arrogant voice, Hyun Woo lowered his gaze and stared at the shoes.
He didn't dare to look up again.
The boy threw him down onto the hard floor of the school corridor. Then he spit on him.
Hyun Woo didn't even dare to wipe it off.
"Fucking orphan. Leeches like you are nothing but trash to society," the boy sneered before walking away.
The corridor was full of students. They had been watching the whole thing. Nobody stepped forward to help. Help? That was a joke. Instead, they cheered for the delinquent boy.
His name was Kang Jin-ho.
And the reason? There was no real reason. Jin-ho simply hated him. He hated that Hyun Woo was weak, poor, and an orphan. Beating him was just a show. Something he did whenever he felt like it.
Hyun Woo had no background, no family to protect him, so nobody cared.
He even tried going to the principal once. What he got in return was more beating—from Jin-ho and from the principal himself.
Kang Jin-ho's father was a vice president of Daesung Electronics, one of the top 100 companies in South Korea. Everyone in school knew that name. Everyone knew not to cross him.
The bell finally rang. School was over.
Hyun Woo didn't talk to anyone. He didn't even lift his head.
He just walked out of the gate, his swollen face stinging, his eyes still wet.
He wiped his tears with his sleeve, pretending like nothing happened.
At the bus stop, he sat on the bench. He pulled out his phone and opened his gallery. To view the photo of his family. When he looked them, he feels calm and happy.
But then, suddenly—
Vrrrooom!
A biker rushed past, snachted the phone straight out of his hands, and sped away.
Hyun Woo froze for a second. His heart jumped.
"My… my phone…"
He stumbled up and ran, chasing after the bike with everything he had. But his weak legs were nothing compared to the roaring engine. In a blink, the biker disappeared down the road.
It wasn't just a phone. Inside it… was the only photo he had of his family.
Before the accident. Before that night.
The car crash. The hit-and-run that killed them all.
That single picture was the only thing left. His father's smile, his mother's gentle and warm face, his little sister holding his hand.
And now, even that was gone.
His throat burned. His vision blurred. He wanted to scream, but no voice came out.
His chest was tight, his hands empty, his legs moving on their own.
He just ran. Ran without even knowing where his feet were taking him.
The sound of the bike still echoed in his ears, but it was already long gone. All he had left was the hollow pounding of his own heartbeat.
When he finally stopped, he was standing in front of the police station. His shoulders shaking, his face wet with tears he didn't even notice.
Without any second thought, he pushed open the door and walked inside the police station.
But as soon as he entered, his steps slowed down. It felt hard to breathe, like something heavy was pressing on him.
He wanted to talk. He wanted to shout that his phone was stolen. That his only photo of family was gone.
But the words got stuck in his throat.
His lips opened, then closed again. His hands grabbed his knees. He lowered his head and sat down on the hard chair in the corner.
The voices of the officers were all over the room. Some were laughing, some arguing, some talking on the phone. Papers flipping, chairs moving, pens dropping. The sound of the phone ringing again and again.
It all mixed together, too loud, too messy.
For Hyun Woo, it felt like the noise was pressing down on his head. Like even if he tried to open his mouth, his small voice would be swallowed by it and nobody would hear him.
It was like a wall between him and everyone else. A wall he couldn't climb.
So he stayed quiet. Head down. Hands on his knees.
His feet kept tapping the floor. Fast, then slow, then fast again. He wanted to speak, but he was too nervous, too shy. The words just wouldn't come out.
Inside, he was crying. His chest felt empty, his eyes burning, but he kept his head down.
His mind went back to his family.
He remembered how his father used to hold his hand when they walked together. How proud he looked walking beside him.
His father was an honest police officer. The one person Hyun Woo always idolized. The one who gave him courage when he was small.
But after his father was gone, something in him broke.
Now, sitting here, he realized it—he was scared. Scared to face people, scared to face the world.
After some time, when the line got shorter and only a few people were left, Hyun Woo stood up.
His legs felt weak, but he forced them to move. He gathered what little courage was left in his heart and walked to the counter.
He stood in front of the police officer. His lips trembled as he tried to speak.
"M-my… my phone… it… it got stolen…" His voice cracked, like he was about to cry. "I… I want to… file… a report."
The officer leaned back on his chair, looking lazy, half interested. He didn't even bother to write anything.
But then, when his eyes landed on Hyun Woo's swollen face, something flickered in his expression.
"You…" the officer muttered. "You're Park Jae-hoon's son, aren't you? The officer who died in that accident."
Hyun Woo's throat went dry. He could only nod.
The officer sighed, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Look, kid. I can file your report. But nothing's free, you know? Slip me some money, and maybe I'll get it done for you. Otherwise…" He shrugged. "Don't waste my time."
Hyun Woo just stood there, not moving. He didn't know what to do. His body felt heavy, like all the strength was gone.
Money? He barely had enough for bus fare. He stood there, fists clenched, unable to answer.
The officer smirked, already turning his head away like he didn't care.
"I… I don't have any money… please… my… my father, he was an honest police officer… could you please…"
Before he could even finish, the officer slammed the desk and yelled, his voice booming across the room.
Every officer in the station looked. Their eyes went wide for a second when they saw Hyun Woo. They knew who he was, the son of Park Jae-hoon.
And then, one by one, they turned their heads away.
Nobody said anything. Nobody came forward. They just all ignored him, like he was nothing.
The officer leaned closer, his face twisted. "Listen here, brat. You think I care about your father? You dare come here with no money? Keep talking and I'll lock you up myself. How about I put a record on your file, make you a criminal, huh? Is that what you want?"
Hyun Woo's lips trembled. His hands shook, but no words came out.
What could he even do?
Nothing.
"Now fuck off from here," the officer barked.
Hyun Woo didn't say anything. He just walked out, hiding his face with his sleeve. His shoulders shook. Tears kept running down, no matter how hard he tried to hold them back. His chest hurt so much it felt like breaking.
He kept walking, step by step, heading back toward home. Alone. All by himself while crying.
—
Later that night.
Behind the police station, in a narrow dark alley, the bikers who had stolen his phone were standing around their bikes. They were smoking and laughing together, telling dirty jokes.
One of them tossed a wad of cash into the hands of the same officer from earlier.
"Cut from the phone we sold, just like always," the biker grinned. "Easy money, huh?"
The officer stuffed the bills in his pocket with a smirk. "Keep it coming, and nobody will touch you."
Another biker spat on the ground. "That orphan kid almost cried when I grabbed his phone. Weak little shit. Who's gonna help him?"
They all laughed louder, passing the cigarette between them.
The officer leaned against the wall, took a drag from the cigarette, and let out a filthy laugh.
"Money can buy anything… even a police officer like me." The bikers burst out laughing with him.
That same night, Hyun Woo didn't go home right away.
He sat alone in the park the whole day, staring at nothing. His mind was empty, but heavy at the same time.
He was tired, his body sore, but he didn't care. He didn't even eat. His stomach was empty and hurting, but he still had no mood to eat anything.