My phone rang loudly, cutting through the silence.
"Ahhh!" I groaned, frustrated, and sat up in bed. It was 12 a.m. I reached over and grabbed my phone. The screen blinked with a message from Yuna.
> "Hey, sleepy beauty. Whenever you see this message, go to your kitchen and cook something, okay?"
I smiled at her words. At least I had someone like Yuna—and Ara. Even though everything else was falling apart, I wasn't completely alone.
My house was small. Just one bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. It was no bigger than a school classroom. I showered quickly, put on a skirt and a soft beige sweater, and made my way to the hospital.
That hospital had become my second home.
"Good morning," I greeted the doctor politely as I entered.
"Morning," he replied, nodding before walking off.
I could hear the nurses whispering behind me.
"That girl's mother has been in a coma for over a year now."
"And she still visits every day… Poor thing."
Hearing them made me want to cry. I wanted to scream at them—She's going to wake up! But I just walked forward, like a shadow with no voice.
I reached her room, room 307 at Seoul Central Hospital.
"Hi, Mom," I whispered, walking over to her bed. I kissed her forehead gently and sat down beside her.
"The doctors say you're healing slowly," I said softly. "I want to believe that. I really do."
Tears started to gather, even though I tried to hold them back. I sniffled and looked at her unmoving face.
"Mom, the rent is almost due again. The hospital bills are growing. And my part-time job is probably ending next week. I... I have nothing left but hope. So please, please show me you can hear me. Anything. Just move your hand, blink, anything..."
But nothing happened.
"I'll come back tomorrow," I whispered, grabbing my bag. As I walked toward the door, I heard one of the nurses whisper again.
"Told you she'd cry again."
***
I walked to my workplace—it was my part-time job, or rather, the only job I had until I could get something better. It was already late at night, and as usual, the streets were quiet.
When I entered the store, I expected to be greeted by customers, but instead, there was only silence. So quiet that even the drop of a pin would've echoed louder than someone speaking.
"Hello, sir," I greeted my boss, who barely glanced at me. It felt like he wanted me to leave, but I didn't understand why. I tied my apron and stepped inside.
"Why is it so empty today?" I asked, walking past him, pen in hand as I moved to check the tables. When I reached table twelve, I stopped.
There they were—a group of seven boys, sitting together. They were... stunning. Each of them had perfect haircuts, expensive-looking clothes, and an aura that screamed celebrity. As soon as they noticed me, they pulled up their masks quickly, as if hiding something.
Wait a minute... are they—
"Hey," one of them interrupted my thoughts. I looked at him, irritated.
"What would you like to order?" I asked, trying to stay professional.
They all fell silent.
"Do you know us?" another one asked suddenly.
"I don't," I replied firmly.
In response, they slowly pulled down their masks, revealing their handsome faces again.
"We'd like seven bottles of soju, some kimchi—" one started, but was cut off.
"Hungjae, how do we know she's not just pretending not to be a fan?" the one who stared at me earlier said.
As soon as he spoke, the rest quickly covered their faces with masks again.
"Sorry, but I don't care who you are. Just tell me your order," I said coldly.
"If you can name all seven of us, I'll give you a VIP ticket and my autograph," he challenged.
"I don't want it. And like I said—I don't know who you are."
They didn't seem to believe me. So I reached out and flicked one of them on the neck.
"Is that enough proof?"
"Dongha, are you okay?!" the others exclaimed, rushing to check on him.
My boss, who had apparently been watching the whole scene, came running over.
"I'm sorry—she's a little... weird," he said, lightly hitting my arm.
"Weird?!" I snapped.
"She should be in a psychiatric hospital," the same rude guy muttered.
"You know what? I think you all need one," I shot back.
"She's not into K-pop," my boss quickly explained, trying to smooth things over.
That's when it hit me—these guys were idols. Probably famous. And I just... assaulted one of them. Great.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" I bowed deeply. "I get a little weird sometimes."
"Get her out of here," one of them said sharply.
"Leave. Now," my boss ordered.
I really wanted to punch that guy in the face. My fist was already halfway up—but I held it back.
Everyone stared. I turned and walked outside, fuming.
"Stupid K-pop or whatever," I muttered under my breath.
But then I remembered—I left my bag in the store.
I groaned and walked back in, only to lock eyes with that same annoying guy again.
I grabbed my bag, refusing to look away, and left again, seething inside.
After arriving home, I opened the door to my tiny apartment and stepped inside. I dropped my bag on the floor and searched for my phone—but instead, I found a neatly folded piece of paper.
>"Work at Luna Company as a staff member."
Reading it made my chest tighten with frustration. My face burned with anger as I crumpled the paper. A part of me wanted to storm back to the café and scream at them, but I couldn't. Instead, I threw the paper into the trash bin by the door.
Then, my phone rang.
"Have you visited your mom today?" Ara asked casually.
"Yes… Hey, Ara, do you know anything about a company called Luna Entertainment?"
"Luna?" she replied with a surprised laugh. "Yeah, of course! They manage NYX, that insanely popular K-pop group. They just dropped a new album! Why? I thought you hated K-pop."
"I just needed to know," I said and ended the call quickly.
"Luna, or whatever… I don't care," I muttered under my breath.
But later that night, every time I looked at the trash bin, I felt like the paper was calling to me. Like it had some kind of… presence. No matter how many times I tried to ignore it, I kept glancing back—but nothing was there. Was it magic? Was it fate?
Shaking my head, I went to the fridge—empty. Only a few bottles of soju were left. I sighed again.
"Ugh…"
I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, only to realize my toothbrush was over three months old. I sighed again and stepped into the shower, but halfway through—
The water suddenly stopped.
"Are you serious? Did they cut it off again?"
I hadn't even finished washing my hair. I was beyond frustrated now. Everything was falling apart. Rent was due, the bills were rising, my job wasn't paying enough—and now this?
Then my phone rang again. This time, it was from the hospital.
"Hello, Miss Minju. Your mother's condition is improving, but we need to upgrade her care. Also, your bills are overdue. Please settle them soon," said the doctor's voice on the line.
"…Okay," I replied weakly and hung up.
I stared at the trash can.
Slowly, I reached inside and pulled the paper out again.
You brought back old memories to me…
Suddenly, my phone rang again.
A deep voice answered on the other end.
"I knew you'd call."