The taxi stopped a good distance from the MR Entertainment building. The entire street was a battlefield, crowded with reporters, cameras, and screaming fans, all clawing for a glimpse of Taewon.
I shoved a large bill into the driver's hand and didn't wait for change. The moment the door unlocked, I bolted out into the chaos.
The front doors of the building swung open just as I arrived. Reporters lunged forward like a pack of starving wolves.
"Mr. Taewon! Is it true you're dating actress Yuna?"
"Eight years in secret, did it start on Single's Island?"
Dozens of microphones and cameras swarmed around him. Some fans screamed his name, some cursed, others simply cried.
He didn't say a word. Shielded by his bodyguards, he kept his head down and pushed through the crowd toward his waiting car.
I fought to reach him. The crush of bodies stole my breath, my ribs pressing against strangers' shoulders and elbows, but none of it mattered. I only wanted to hear his voice—his answer.
"Taewon!" My voice came out strangled and small, instantly drowned beneath the flood of noise.
"Taewon, it's me!" I screamed again, forcing my way deeper through the crush of limbs and cameras.
Then something slammed into my back, sending me sprawling forward. My knees scraped against the pavement as a sharp sting tore through my leg. Someone shouted angrily behind me, but I barely heard.
I looked up, breathless, hoping—desperately—to meet his eyes. Just once.
He had stopped. His head turned slightly, his gaze catching mine. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw the boy I once knew, the warmth that had carried me through winters. But the eyes that met mine now were dulled, smothered under the fog of guilt.
No… please, not that look.
Tears blurred my vision as I reached a trembling hand toward him. "Taewon…"
Please take my hand. Pull me up. Say my name. Tell them—tell the world—that I'm the woman you love.
Please.
His body shifted forward, just an inch, as if some long-forgotten instinct called him. My heart leapt, a faint, foolish smile trembling on my lips.
Then a guard caught his arm. "Let's go, Taewon."
Taewon froze. For a second, his eyes wavered. Then he turned away.
"No... don't!"
I screamed his name, the sound breaking into a sob. Hot tears scorched my cheeks.
"Taewon! Look at me!"
I lurched to my feet, but someone seized me from behind, a pair of hands like iron bands locking around my arms. I was yanked backward, thrown into the mass of bodies.
I trying to push forward, but the bodyguard was already in front of me, an immovable wall of muscle between us.
He never looked back. Not even once. He just stepped into the car, face calm, untouched, as if I had never existed.
"Taewon..."
The door shut with a heavy thud. His face disappeared behind the tinted glass, and something inside me shattered completely.
The car rolled away, carrying the man I had loved for fifteen years, and with him, every piece of my heart.
The reporters surged after it. Hands slapped the windows. Voices collided, merging into a thunderous blur.
I stood still. The crowd passed around me, their shoulders knocking into mine, but I barely felt a thing. My eyes followed the car until it vanished, leaving me alone in front of the MR building.
Utterly, miserably alone.
I came to this country when I was eighteen, just a nameless backup dancer chasing a fragile dream. The city was loud, cold, and merciless. I knew no one. I barely spoke the language.
And then I met Taewon.
He was struggling too, a boy from a small town who wanted to be an actor. We clung to each other, sharing meals, sharing warmth, sharing hope.
There were nights when we split a single packet of instant noodles between us.
There were winters when our half-basement apartment froze so deeply our breath turned white in the air. We couldn't afford heating, so hhe held me so tight I could feel his heartbeat racing against mine.
He once whispered a promise into my hair. I carried that promise for fifteen years.
We survived every hardship together. But money and fame… they divided us in an instant.
What a joke.
I had gambled fifteen years of my life on a beautiful lie.
Maybe this is my punishment, for being a fool.
*
Cold wind bit into my skin as I stepped out of another taxi hours later, but I barely felt it anymore. My body was numb. My heart had long turned to stone.
Inside my apartment, the motion-sensor lights flicked on, washing the room in sterile brightness. This place was his gift—the apartment Taewon bought me after winning the Rising Star Award, when his first major film became a box-office sensation.
He'd still been living in the company dorms then, yet somehow scraped together enough to give me this home, complete with a heating system that never failed through the cruelest winters.
A man like that… had lied to me for eight years.
Unbelievable. Yet the truth sat heavy and unyielding.
I threw my dead phone onto the table. I didn't bother charging it; I couldn't stand to see another headline about him.
My stomach ached with hunger, but food meant nothing. I collapsed onto the sofa, an arm flung over my eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. My eyes were too dry to cry again. I'd spent all my tears in the taxi.
The apartment was spotless, luxurious, warm. But to me it felt like a cage made of glass and guilt. Every corner held traces of him, the cups we bought together, the couch he'd chosen, the scent that lingered in the air.
That scent. Woody, faintly sweet—Le Labo Santal 33. His favorite. No, mine. I had bought it for him, his first expensive gift, to celebrate his debut as a leading actor. Since then, he never used another.
Damn it. He'd been here just two nights ago, hugging me like nothing had changed. And all the while, he'd been seeing someone else.
No—I was the other woman now. Because she was the one he'd admitted to the world, and I was the secret he buried.
Fifteen years, and I was still just a shadow behind his spotlight.
What kind of life had I been living? Working like a machine, saving every coin, building his path to stardom, only to be erased when he reached the top.
I laughed softly, a hollow sound. My gaze drifted to the table, where a small bottle of sleeping pills caught the light.
His pills. He said he'd been having trouble sleeping. He must've forgotten them here last time.
I stared at the bottle until my thoughts sank into a dark sea. A reckless idea surfaced.
Maybe I should end it tonight.
Thirty-three years, and not one of them truly mine. Maybe it was time to rest. No more pain. No more hope. Just sleep.
The idea didn't seem so terrible.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell's shrill cry cut through the silence, snapping me out of my thought. I froze, staring at the door. Who would come at this hour?
Could it be... Taewoon?
The thought sent a jolt through my drained body. I rose, heart pounding, glancing once more at the bottle on the table.
Pressing my lips together, I turned away and walked to the door.
How should I face him? Would he beg for forgiveness? Explain everything? Or would he end it cleanly, just as he had turned his back on me hours ago?
I drew a shaky breath, swallowed the ache in my throat, and opened the door.
"So you finally decided to show your face—"
The words froze.
The man before me wore a cap and a mask, his face half-hidden, but I knew instantly, it wasn't him. There was no trace of his scent.
Panic slammed into me. I tried to shut the door, but he lunged forward, forcing it open.
We crashed to the floor. His weight pinned me down. I kicked and clawed, desperate, but he was too strong. One hand clamped over my mouth and nose, cutting off both sound and air.
I fought harder, scratching at his arms, his face, anything. My fingers hooked his mask and tore it down.
The face beneath was cold, expressionless, and familiar.
My blood ran cold.
Taewoon's bodyguard.
My heart stopped.
No… no, it couldn't be.
Did Taewon send him? Was he that afraid I'd ruin him? That I'd tell the world about us?
After everything I'd done for him, after all the years I'd built him up from nothing?
Taewon, is that really what you think of me?
My lungs burned. My hands weakened. I tried to reach his throat, but he leaned away, out of reach.
The world dimmed at the edges. My mind emptied, thought by thought.
And then, in the haze between consciousness and death, I saw him again, not the man he'd become, but the boy he once was: drenched in sweat, smiling through exhaustion, dimples deep and bright like twin suns.
Taewon. The boy I loved, who had grown into a man I could no longer recognize.
My hand slipped from the stranger's arm, falling limp against the floor. The weight of my body vanished into the dark.
The sunlight from that smile flickered once, then vanished into the dark.
***