By the time she got used to her scooter, life was finally starting to feel… manageable. For once, things weren't spiraling. The wind in her hair felt like a small kind of freedom. She almost let herself believe the worst was behind her.
Then the call came.
Her uncle's voice was panicked, barely coherent. "Yujin! Grandma collapsed—she's in the hospital. They admitted her. It's bad."
The words punched the air out of her lungs. Her hand gripped the phone like it might anchor her to the moment. Her vision blurred, not from tears—but from sheer, cold adrenaline.
"I'm on my way," she said, already moving.
She launched onto her scooter without a second thought, the engine humming to life. Her hands trembled on the handlebars, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
The system pinged softly: route suggestions, traffic predictions, shortcut overlays. And for once, she didn't fight it. She'd begun to trust it again even if just a little. Maybe it couldn't predict love, but it could still get her to someone who mattered.
[Optimal Parking Spot Located]
For maximum convenience and efficiency, park in the second row, leftmost space.
She barely glanced at the message before pulling in fast, her heart racing. The scooter locked in place with a soft click. She leapt off and bolted toward the hospital doors
"Hey! You can't park there!" someone shouted behind her.
But Yujin didn't even break stride. Her heart had already left her body and was somewhere inside that hospital. Let them fine her. Let them tow it. She didn't care.
Not now. She thought.
Yujin skidded to a stop, heart pounding, as a security guard stormed toward her, his expression already sour.
"Miss, you can't park there."
She stared at him, exasperated. "Are you serious right now? My grandma's in the hospital I don't have time for this."
The guard folded his arms. "Doesn't matter. That space is reserved."
A chime blinked in her vision.
[Alert: Security guard is bluffing. No official reservation registered for this spot.]
Yujin's eyes narrowed. She was tired. Raw. Emotionally scraped thin. "Oh yeah? Reserved for who?"
Before the guard could answer, A sleek black Mercedes-Maybach slid into the next space like it owned the asphalt—clearly luxury, clearly money."
The sleek black Mercedes-Benz S-Class rolled into the space beside her scooter like it owned the asphalt. Its glossy body practically shimmered with arrogance. The tinted window glided down halfway, revealing a driver with a deadpan stare that screamed, "Who-the-hell-is-this."
"You're blocking the Golden Son's parking space," he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Move."
Before Yujin could even blink
Thunk.
PART 2
The car inched forward, nudging her scooter just enough to tip it. It wobbled, teetered, then crashed onto the pavement with an agonizing metallic scrraaape. The sound made her soul shrivel.
Yujin's jaw dropped. Her gaze bounced from her poor scooter, to the car, to the driver who looked completely unfazed.
"Oh, you did NOT just do that," she hissed.
She stormed up to the window and smacked it with the flat of her palm, the slap echoing like a warning shot. "Are you serious right now?! You knocked over my scooter and don't even try to pretend it didn't leave a scratch!"
The driver gave her a side-eye so lazy it practically rolled out of the window. "I told you to move."
Tsk.
He actually tsked.
She smacked her palm on the hood this time. "How would you like it if I started banging on your precious tin can?"
The driver jerked back like she'd threatened national security. "Are you crazy? Do you even know what this is? This is the latest Maybach limited edition!"
"I don't give a damn if it's a Junebach or a Babybach," Yujin shot back.
The driver looked absolutely scandalized. He blinked at her like she'd just told him she didn't know what Wi-Fi was. "I… I can't… who doesn't know this car?! What are you, a cavewoman? Do you not watch anything?!"
"I told you to move, Miss… whatever," he said, waving her off like an annoying ad popup.
His gaze slid down to her outfit faded jeans, loose T-shirt, and windblown hair from racing across the city. "And really? You came to a hospital looking like that? Pitiful. At least pretend to care. No wonder you don't know what kind of car you just hit you look like someone who starts fights with vending machines. That actually explains why you thought smacking a multi-million-won car was a good idea."
Yujin blinked, stunned. "Excuse me?!"
He leaned back smugly in his seat, clearly feeling himself. "This space is for the Golden Son. My boss wears ten-thousand-dollar suits and dines with foreign royalty."
The way he said it like he had a seat at the royal table too nearly made her gag.
"You think we're going to move for a girl riding a tomato-colored toy bike?"
"It's a scooter," she growled. "And you scratched it."
"Oh no," he gasped in mock horror. "Quick, someone call the United Nations. A scooter has fallen!"
He clutched his chest like he was performing Shakespeare. "Look at this girl's nerves.
Yujin didn't even think. Her middle finger flew up like a reflex.
The driver recoiled. "Eieiei! What kind of manners!"
Before he could answer, the driver turned his head slightly, speaking toward the backseat where the Golden Son sat like royalty behind the tinted glass of the Maybach.
"Sir, we've got a situation."
A pause. Then a calm, clipped voice responded, "What kind of situation?"
The driver cast a sideways glance at Yujin, nose wrinkling like he'd caught a whiff of something unpleasant. "Some loud, riffraff looking haechungmin
girl is blocking our reserved space. Refuses to move. Very… expressive."
Yujin's jaw dropped. "haechungmin?! Excuse you!"
PART 3
But before she could go nuclear, the back window of the Maybach began to roll down slow, smooth, and intimidating. First, she saw the glint of a gold watch. Then, the sharp line of a tailored sleeve. Then came the man himself sleek black hair, perfectly styled, skin like marble, and eyes colder than debt collectors in winter.
He didn't speak right away.
He didn't have to.
He just looked at his driver like the man had personally offended him by dragging him into this peasant-level drama.
Finally, he let out a sigh long, weary, and far too expensive-sounding for someone who probably hadn't even hit thirty. "What is with all this… commotion? First, you block my parking spot, then you hit my car, and now you're accusing my driver of damaging your… what is that? A bike? Scooter? Children's ride-on toy?" he drawled, voice laced with disinterest, still refusing to look directly at her like she wasn't worth the calories it took to blink.
The driver straightened like he was delivering a military briefing. "She refused to move her scooter, sir."
Yujin folded her arms and threw him a glare hotter than engine oil. "And you hit it with your car!"
The driver scoffed. "I didn't even touch that tomato. It fell on its own. Probably gave up on life."
The man Golden Son, as Yujin had already heard like a thousand times during her internal roast fight with the driver finally turned his head.
His eyes, cold and calculating like they'd been trained to dissect stock portfolios at birth, scanned her from head to toe. Then they flicked to the scooter, now lying on its side like roadkill, one handlebar twisted up to the sky as if begging for mercy.
He blinked once. "…And?"
Yujin gawked. "And ?! You're paying for the damage, that's what!"
Golden Son raised a single, irritatingly perfect brow. "And why would I do that?"
He flicked a hand toward his driver like he was swatting away a minor accounting error. "I wasn't the one who damaged your scooter. He did. Take it up with him. Who knows, maybe he'll cover your hospital bills too since you seem deeply traumatized ."
Yujin's jaw dropped. Audibly. If shock had a sound, it would be the gasp that left her throat.
The driver snorted, then broke into a wheezy laugh, like his boss had just dropped the punchline of the year. "Dramatic, much?" he chuckled, wiping fake tears from his eyes. "You'd think we ran over her tomato looking scooter."
"And besides," he added with the smugness of a villain about to win the lawsuit, "that spot is reserved for me."
He turned slightly, pretending to straighten his cuffs, then shot her a look over his shoulder.
"Actually… why don't you pay me for that spot? Let's call it trespassing rent. Seems fair."
Yujin made a noise between a scoff and a dying seagull. "What? Pay you?! For an empty spot? There wasn't even a sign!"
He pointed down dramatically like a TV villain revealing the murder weapon. Painted in faded yellow letters on the curb: Staff Members Only.
She squinted. "That could've meant literally anyone."
He smirked. "Are you sure you want to argue with me right now?"
"Who even are you " she began, voice already hitting rage octaves.
That's when her system chose to show up.
Right on cue.
[Caution: High-Profile Individual Detected]
Risk Level: Unfavorable.
[A Potential has been discovered.]