Nari stared at the message for almost twenty minutes.
She had written it.
Deleted it.
Written it again.
Deleted it again.
Every version sounded wrong.
Too cold.
Too desperate.
Too much like goodbye.
She wanted to tell him she loved him.
She wanted to tell him she was afraid.
She wanted to tell him that she hated the thought of waking up tomorrow without him.
But none of those things were the reason she was doing this.
The reason was sitting in front of her on the television.
A news report.
Another article.
Another photograph.
Another discussion about Seong-woo's career.
Another sponsor questioning whether his private life would affect the group.
Nari lowered the volume.
Her eyes moved back to the message.
This time, she didn't delete it.
She typed slowly.
I'm sorry.
She stopped.
Then continued.
I think we should end this.
Her fingers trembled.
She stared at the words.
They looked cruel.
They looked like something a stranger would write.
She added:
I don't want to become the reason you lose everything you've worked for.
She swallowed.
You spent years building your dream. I can't stand here and watch you lose it because of me.
Her vision blurred.
She wiped her eyes.
Then wrote the sentence she had been avoiding.
Please don't come looking for me.
She stared at the screen.
Her heart was beating so hard it hurt.
Finally, she typed:
Thank you for finding me again. I will always be grateful that, for a little while, we found our way back to each other.
She couldn't type anymore.
There was one final sentence.
The sentence that would destroy both of them.
I love you. That's why I have to let you go.
She pressed send.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then two blue ticks appeared.
Her heart stopped.
He had read it.
Almost immediately, her phone began ringing.
Seong-woo.
She stared at his name.
The phone kept vibrating.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
She didn't answer.
A message appeared.
What are you talking about?
Another.
Call me.
Another.
Nari, please.
She closed her eyes.
The phone rang again.
She couldn't do it.
If she heard his voice, she would take everything back.
So she blocked him.
The room became painfully quiet.
Nari placed the phone on the bed.
Then she covered her face with both hands.
The first sob escaped before she could stop it.
She bent forward.
Her shoulders shook.
"I'm sorry."
There was nobody there to hear her.
"I'm so sorry."
Seong-woo stared at his phone.
The message remained on the screen.
Then her profile disappeared.
He refreshed the page.
Nothing.
He tried calling.
The call didn't go through.
He tried again.
Nothing.
His breathing became uneven.
"Nari."
He stood up so quickly that the chair behind him fell.
His manager looked up.
"What happened?"
Seong-woo didn't answer.
He grabbed his jacket.
"Where are you going?"
He was already walking toward the door.
"To find her."
For three days, Seong-woo searched.
He went to the café where they used to meet.
She wasn't there.
He went to the bookstore near her apartment.
Nothing.
He waited outside her building.
She never came home.
He called people who knew her.
Nobody knew where she was.
Or perhaps they did and simply refused to tell him.
He barely slept.
He barely ate.
His phone stayed in his hand.
Every few minutes, he checked it.
Nothing.
On the fourth day, he finally saw her.
She was walking down a quiet street with a manuscript tucked beneath her arm.
Seong-woo stopped.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Nari saw him.
Her face changed.
She looked like she wanted to run.
"Nari."
She turned around.
He followed.
"Nari, wait."
She walked faster.
He caught up.
"Please."
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
Her eyes were already wet.
"Why are you here?"
"I've been looking for you."
"I told you not to."
"I know."
"Then why didn't you listen?"
"Because I don't want this."
Her lips trembled.
"Neither do I."
"Then why did you do it?"
She looked away.
"Because somebody had to."
"Who decided that?"
"I did."
"You don't get to decide my life for me."
"And you don't get to destroy your career for me."
"I never said I would."
"You don't have to say it."
She looked at him.
"I can see it."
He shook his head.
"You think I care more about my career than you?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I think you're willing to lose it for me."
He went silent.
Nari continued.
"And I can't let you."
His eyes filled with tears.
"You think you're protecting me."
"I am."
"You're hurting me."
"I know."
"Then stop."
She closed her eyes.
"I can't."
He stepped closer.
"You can."
"No."
"You can."
"No, Seong-woo."
Her voice broke.
"Because every time I look at you, I see the boy who sat beside me by the sea and told me he wanted to become someone."
He stared at her.
"You did."
"And you became him."
She smiled through her tears.
"You became everything you wanted to become."
He shook his head.
"Not everything."
She knew what he meant.
She looked down.
"Your career isn't something small."
"I know."
"You worked for it."
"I know."
"People depend on you."
"I know."
"And I won't be the reason you wake up one morning and hate the life you built."
"I would never hate it because of you."
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"You don't."
They stood facing each other.
Neither knew what to say next.
The silence between them was filled with everything they had once said.
Every promise.
Every laugh.
Every ordinary afternoon.
Every moment they thought would last.
Seong-woo wiped his face.
"I let you go."
Nari's lips trembled.
He looked at her through tears.
"I let you go because I thought loving you meant giving you the freedom to leave."
She shook her head.
"No."
He swallowed.
"I let you go."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"I let you go."
His eyes closed.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"You don't understand."
"I do."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"I would have chosen you."
She began crying.
"I know."
"I would have chosen you."
"I know."
"Then why?"
"Because I love you."
His face crumpled.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does to me."
She wiped her tears.
"I don't want you to spend the rest of your life wondering what you could have become if I hadn't come back."
He shook his head.
"You were never the thing holding me back."
"Maybe not."
She smiled sadly.
"But I don't want to become the thing you have to sacrifice everything for."
He looked at her for a long time.
Then whispered:
"I don't know how to live without you again."
She looked away.
"You already did."
"That was before."
"I know."
"Then why are you asking me to do it again?"
She couldn't answer.
Because there was no answer that wouldn't hurt him.
Finally, she looked back at him.
"Can we be strangers again?"
He stared at her.
The question seemed to break something inside him.
"Strangers?"
She nodded.
"Like before we found each other again."
He laughed softly through his tears.
"How can I become a stranger to you?"
"I don't know."
"I know your favorite flower."
She cried harder.
"I know."
"I know the way you laugh when you're trying not to laugh."
She covered her mouth.
"I know."
"I know you hate eating alone."
She nodded.
"I know."
"I know what you look like when you're about to cry but pretend you're fine."
Her voice broke.
"Stop."
"I know how you take your coffee."
"Please."
"I know you."
He looked at her.
"How do you expect me to forget all of that?"
"I don't."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"Live."
He stared at her.
"Live your life."
"And you?"
"I'll live mine."
"Without me?"
She nodded.
"Without you."
He looked down.
His shoulders shook.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he reached for her hand.
She let him hold it.
Just for a moment.
Their fingers intertwined the way they had so many times before.
Neither of them wanted to let go.
But eventually, Nari slowly pulled her hand away.
Seong-woo watched her.
That small movement hurt more than anything she had said.
She stepped backward.
He didn't follow.
This time, he understood.
She wasn't running from him.
She was asking him to let her go.
"I love you," she whispered.
His eyes filled again.
"I love you too."
She turned around.
Walked away.
She didn't look back.
Neither did he.
Not because they didn't want to.
Because they both knew that if either of them looked back, they might run toward each other again.
And neither trusted themselves enough to survive another goodbye.
That night, Nari sat on her bedroom floor.
The lights were off.
Only the glow from her laptop illuminated the room.
She opened an old folder.
Videos.
Dozens of them.
She clicked the first.
Seong-woo appeared on the screen.
Young.
Laughing.
He was trying to cook something and failing miserably.
Nari's laughter could be heard behind the camera.
"Don't record this!"
"You said you could cook."
"I can."
"You burned it."
"It was supposed to look like that."
She laughed.
The video ended.
She opened another.
They were walking along the beach.
Another.
They were sitting in the back of a car.
Another.
Seong-woo was sleeping with his head against her shoulder.
Another.
She was teasing him about his terrible singing.
Another.
He was looking at her instead of the camera.
Nari paused the video.
His face remained frozen on the screen.
She touched it gently.
"You promised."
Her voice cracked.
"You promised we'd stay like this."
She lowered her hand.
Then she closed the laptop.
But the memories didn't close with it.
Across the city, Seong-woo stood backstage before another concert.
The crowd was screaming.
His members were laughing nearby.
The staff moved around him.
Someone fixed his microphone.
Someone adjusted his jacket.
Someone told him they were going live in thirty seconds.
Seong-woo nodded.
He walked onto the stage.
The lights came on.
Thousands of fans screamed his name.
He smiled.
The smile looked perfect.
He sang.
He danced.
He spoke to the audience.
He laughed when he was supposed to laugh.
He waved.
He performed every move exactly as he had practiced.
Nobody noticed that something was missing.
The spark that had once made him look as though he belonged beneath those lights was gone.
During the final song, he looked toward the empty space above the audience.
For one second, he remembered Nari.
The girl by the sea.
The shooting star.
The wish he never told her.
He smiled faintly.
Then the music ended.
The lights went dark.
And Seong-woo stood alone in the silence backstage.
For years, he had dreamed of this life.
Now he finally had it.
And somehow, it felt quieter than he remembered.
Neither of them had stopped loving the other.
That was the cruelest part.
They had simply decided that love wasn't enough to keep them together.
So they went their separate ways.
And somewhere between the life they had wanted and the life they were forced to choose,
two people who had once promised forever learned how to live with the possibility that forever might have already ended.