The alarm screamed through the fog blanketing my mind.
The suffocating weight pressing on my chest dissolved. I gasped and snapped my eyes open. My lungs, emptied just moments ago, now drank in air as if starved for it. My blurred vision slowly gathered itself into focus, and confusion flooded me as I looked around.
The smell of damp plaster hung in the air—familiar, yet strangely distant. Beneath me, the mattress was thin, the chill of the wooden floor seeping through it.
On the desk near the window, half-starved of sunlight, stood a photo frame: Taewon and me, holding hands, smiling like we owned the world. We took that picture during New Year's when we were twenty-three.
But that can't be right. I remember the debt collectors breaking it years ago.
Wait. This place… isn't this our old semi-basement apartment?
The alarm continued to shrill. I fumbled for my phone, silencing it with a swipe. The lock screen flickered on—me and Taewon again—and at the top, the date: July 12, 2020.
My eyes widened.
My old iPhone 7 Plus. It had died years ago, the same time that photo frame was shattered.
None of this makes sense.
Didn't I die? Didn't Taewon's bodyguard strangle me in my own apartment?
I slapped myself hard. The sound cracked through the silence, my head whipping to one side.
It hurt.
I could still feel pain. The cold from the floor. The sting blooming across my cheek. The dull ache in my chest that refused to fade.
I was alive.
I staggered to my feet and rushed into the bathroom. Gripping the sink, I stared into the mirror. A face stared back: black hair tumbling down to my waist, skin smooth and taut, no longer traced with the lines of thirty-two.
It was still me, but younger.
I hadn't died.
Had I come back?
Back to before everything fell apart?
Was this… some twisted birthday gift from God?
A laugh bubbled up, shaky, almost hysterical. I ran my fingers across my own youthful face, unable to believe the reflection smiling back.
"Eunbyul? You okay in there?"
The familiar voice from beyond the door froze my smile.
If fate had given me a second chance, I wouldn't waste it.
I turned on the tap, splashing cold water over my face. The shock of it grounded me; the sting reminded me this body, this moment, was real.
"Eunbyul, I'm coming in, okay?"
Before I could answer, the door opened. My fingers clenched around the porcelain edge of the sink as I turned.
There he stood, the boy I had once loved with every beat of my heart. The same boy who would one day become the man who took my life away.
Whatever it took, I would change that ending.
No. I wouldn't just change it. I'd destroy it. I'd drag him off the throne I helped him climb, even if I had to build my own crown from his ruin.
"Eunbyul?"
A hand brushed my shoulder. The touch sent an icy tremor racing up my spine. I flinched and shoved him away, stepping back, my eyes wide with something between fear and revulsion.
Taewon blinked, startled. For a moment, confusion cracked through the warmth in his eyes.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?" He asked, stepping forward again, hand half-raised toward my forehead.
I raised a hand to stop him, forcing a thin smile. "I'm fine. Just… a nightmare."
His hand froze midair, then awkwardly dropped. "A nightmare? That bad?"
His voice was kind, utterly sincere. Of course it was. At this point in time, he hadn't yet joined Single's Island. He hadn't met Yuna. His world still revolved around me.
"Yes," I said, my lips twisting into a faint, ironic smile. "Terrifying."
Concern clouded his handsome face. He leaned forward, almost as if to hold me, but stopped himself when he remembered my recoil.
"It's all right now. It was just a dream." He turned slightly, voice softening. "Don't let it ruin your morning. It's your birthday, and I made seaweed soup for you."
I nodded mutely. Still too disoriented to speak. He gave me a small smile and left, closing the door behind him.
Alone again, I let out a shaky breath. It took a long while to steady my thoughts enough to accept it, to believe that somehow, impossibly, I had been thrown back into the past.
When I finally stepped out, Taewon had already set breakfast on the table, as he used to, small gestures from our lean years.
He was bent over a stack of papers, not noticing me until I sat down. Startled, he quickly hid the documents behind his back and gave me a sheepish grin.
"Feeling better now?"
"Yeah."
I picked up my spoon, but my gaze drifted past his shoulder. My younger eyes were sharper, enough to catch a few words printed across the end of the page:
Please confirm that you are single before participating.
It came back to me instantly.
The day before my twenty-fourth birthday, Taewon had told me he'd been cast on a new dating reality show—Single's Island. We'd fought about it, of course, over that stupid "single only" clause.
It was the show that would make him famous, the one that would introduce him to Yuna.
Back then, he'd promised me it was all staged, that everything on camera was scripted, that I was the only one he truly loved. And I had believed him. I had let him go.
Should I stop him this time?
As if sensing my stare, Taewon subtly shifted to block my view.
"Eat before it gets cold." He said, pushing the bowl toward me with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I couldn't get you a real gift this year."
I looked up. For an instant, warmth and sorrow tangled painfully in my throat.
The boy who once smiled like sunlight, the one with dimples deep as dawn.The same boy who would become a man cold enough to kill me.
"It's fine." I said simply, sipping the soup.
The taste was bland, seaweed and tofu. We'd been barely scraping by then, saving every won we could. When he joined that show, I had emptied my savings to polish his image, to make him shine.
Suddenly, his hand closed over mine. Large, calloused, trembling. His eyes, the color of chestnut, gleamed with a sincerity that once melted me.
"When I make it, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of."
And I had believed him once.
Not anymore.
Keeping my smile composed, I gently withdrew my hand. "You should join the show."
His eyes widened. "You're… not mad?"
He searched my face carefully, afraid of what he might find there. "If you don't want me to, I won't. I can wait for another chance."
How ironic. The same man who would later bury me beneath his lies was now standing before me, too gentle to know the monster he'd become.
Was this his real self, or just the first act of a performance he'd never stopped playing?
"I've thought about it." I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's a rare opportunity. You should take it."
"You mean it?" His disbelief was almost childlike.
I nodded without hesitation. "Really. Step into the spotlight and shine, Taewon."
Shine bright, so that I can drag you down into the mud when your light burns too hot.
"Eunbyul!"
"Eunbyul!"
He leaned forward, arms spreading to hug me, but I tilted back, dodging smoothly. "Eat up. I have work soon."
He chuckled awkwardly, mistaking my distance for a small sulk, and sat back down.
"I'll use my first paycheck from the show to buy you a new phone." He said, reaching across the table to drop a piece of kimchi into my bowl.
I didn't refuse. Not the food, nor the promise. Because both, eventually, would pass through me and be gone.
"Don't worry, really." He added with an eager smile. "It's just acting. I swear I won't cross any lines."
He kept talking, voice smooth, sugar-laced, trying to soothe me with the same words that once blinded me.
I kept eating, nodding absently.
For now, I needed to fill my stomach first.
Then I'd decide how best to tear him apart.
My gaze kept drifting toward the jacket hanging on the wall.
Inside its pocket rested a business card, one from MR Entertainment.
***