Weekend – Shopping Mall
Ara groaned as Mina practically dragged her through the revolving doors of the bustling shopping mall.
> "Come on, Ara! You can't sit at home doing sketches all day! It's the weekend! You have to come out with me!" Mina whined, bouncing on her heels.
Ara hesitated. The crowd pressed around them, voices and footsteps echoing in a chaotic rhythm, and the weight of her usual anxiety settled like a stone in her chest. But she glanced at Mina's sparkling, hopeful eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.
> "Fine… but I'm staying close to you," Ara said, gripping Mina's hand firmly.
Mina squealed triumphantly. "Yes! Bestie day! You'll thank me later!"
Before Ara could respond, Mina charged ahead like a human rocket, dragging her into a women's clothing store. Ara followed, careful not to let go of her hand, as Mina stopped abruptly in front of a display that made her gasp loudly.
> "Ara! LOOK! LOOK!" Mina squealed, pointing at the mannequins.
Ara turned, her eyes following hers, and froze slightly. On the mannequins were the newest BLACKPINK outfits, perfectly replicating the styles from Kill This Love.
Mina's entire body lit up like fireworks. She grabbed Ara's arm and shook her frantically.
> "Oh my god, Ara! This is it! Lisa's outfit! WE HAVE TO TRY THIS! Oh my god, it's perfect!"
Ara blinked, amused, and let a small smile slip. Mina's energy was contagious—even if her fan-girl chaos was a little… much.
They darted to the dressing rooms. Mina emerged from the first cubicle in Lisa's outfit, striking an exaggerated pose. Her heels clicked against the floor as she spun dramatically, waving her arms like a concert performance.
> "Ara! Watch! BOOMBAYAH style!" Mina shouted, throwing herself into a few stiff, flailing dance moves.
Ara's lips twitched. Mina stomped one foot like Lisa, then flung her arms up again, nearly knocking over a rack of clothes.
> "Yah, Ara! You have to sing along!" Mina demanded, her voice rising as she started mouthing the words:
"Boom! Bombah! Boom! BOOMBAYAH! Boom! Bombah! Boom! BOOMBAYAH!"
Ara covered her mouth, fighting laughter. Mina spun and stomped, her attempts at Lisa's sharp dance moves looking more like an energetic chicken doing aerobics.
> "Stop laughing, Ara! I'm concentrating! Concentrate with me!" Mina hissed, red-faced but still bouncing.
Ara shook her head, smiling softly. "Concentrate? You're making the whole store dizzy."
Mina pouted, then narrowed her eyes, pointing dramatically at Ara.
> "Fine! You think you're better? Try Jennie's outfit!"
Ara smirked, tilting her head. "Jennie's my favorite, though."
Mina froze, lips parting in mock horror. "WHAT?! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THAT?!" She spun in exaggerated disbelief, one hand clutching her chest.
> "Because Jennie has the best dressing sense," Ara teased, stepping closer with a playful smile. "She pulls off everything better than the others."
Mina's cheeks puffed out as she huffed dramatically. "Fine… fine. But only because YOU said so! I still love Lisa more."
Ara laughed softly, shaking her head. Watching Mina flail and pose so dramatically in front of the mirror made her chest feel lighter, almost like a momentary escape from the anxiety and fear she usually carried.
> "Bestie day success," Ara thought, glancing at Mina doing a half-spin, arms out, shouting, "BOOMBAYAH!" again, clearly forgetting every step of the dance.
Mina stopped suddenly and looked at Ara with wide, expectant eyes.
> "Ara… you should try it too!"
Ara hesitated, cheeks warming slightly. "Me? Dance like Lisa?"
Mina nodded vigorously. "Yes! Just a little! I promise it'll be fun!"
Ara rolled her eyes but allowed herself a small grin. Maybe just for a minute… she lifted her arms awkwardly, copying Mina's flailing gestures.
> Boom! Bombah! Boom! BOOMBAYAH!" Ara mouthed quietly, and Mina squealed. "YES! Look at you! You have the spirit!"
They laughed together, Mina spinning again, nearly stepping on Ara's shoes. Ara laughed despite herself, the tension she usually carried around crowds slowly melting away.
> "Okay, okay," Ara muttered, catching her breath, "I think that's enough Lisa for today. Let's move on before someone thinks we're insane."
Mina tugged Ara toward the fitting section with an almost mischievous grin.
"Come on, just once! You never let yourself enjoy these things," she insisted, shoving a bundle of hangers into Ara's hands before the girl could protest.
Ara sighed, reluctant. "Mina… I'm not really—"
But Mina had already pushed her into the changing room and shut the door.
"Just try them, Ara. Please. For me."
One by one, Ara stepped out in different dresses. A cream satin slip that gleamed under the boutique lights, a chic black cocktail dress that traced her silhouette, a soft pastel gown that made her look fragile, almost doll-like.
Each time, Mina's jaw dropped further.
"Are you kidding me right now?! You look like you walked straight out of a Vogue cover!"
Even the boutique staff—women who had seen hundreds of customers—found themselves whispering in awe. Their eyes followed Ara with admiration, not envy. She didn't just wear the dresses; she embodied them. Elegant, refined, yet with a quiet mystery that made people stop and stare.
Ara, however, couldn't meet her own reflection in the mirror. Her fingers fidgeted at the hem of the fabric.
"I… don't feel like this is me," she murmured softly.
Mina stepped behind her, resting her chin on Ara's shoulder with a warm smile. "That's because you never see yourself the way the world does. Ara Jeon, you are a walking masterpiece. Every designer in this city would beg to have you wear their creations."
For a moment, Ara's eyes flickered to the mirror. The girl staring back at her really did look like a fashion icon—confident, radiant, breathtaking. But behind those eyes was the weight of everything she had lived through, a truth only she knew.
Still… for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to imagine—what if she really belonged here?
SCENE CHANGE INTO RESTAURANT
The restaurant had the kind of warmth that made conversations flow easily—wooden tables, soft chatter, the occasional clinking of plates. Mina sat across from Ara, leaning forward with bright eyes as she stirred her iced latte.
"You know that guy from the basketball team? The tall one with messy hair?" Mina grinned, lowering her voice as if she was confessing something scandalous. "I think I'm crushing on him. Again. My type never changes, right?"
Ara forced a small smile, watching Mina's excitement. "As usual," she murmured, her voice steady but soft, as though her thoughts were elsewhere.
While Mina continued, Ara's gaze wandered. A table nearby was filled with high school girls in crisp uniforms, their laughter bubbling with innocence. They leaned toward each other, whispering, teasing, their cheeks pink with youthful joy. It was light. Untainted.
But at the next table, a group of boys sat, pretending to joke and laugh loudly. Ara's eyes caught something sharp—one of them angling his phone under the table, his lens pointed discreetly at the high school girls.
Her stomach turned instantly.
The laughter around her dulled. The colors of the restaurant blurred. She wasn't here anymore.
She was back.
Back to that night.
2014.
June.
The alley.
Hands that stole her breath, her strength, her dignity. The suffocating silence that followed.
Ara's fingers tightened around her fork. Her pulse roared in her ears. She wanted to stand up. To shout. To drag that boy by the collar and expose him. To shield those girls before the cracks of reality could ever touch them.
But her chest felt heavy—too heavy.
How can I protect them… when I couldn't even save myself?
Her eyes dropped to her lap. She saw herself in those girls—her seventeen-year-old self. Full of confidence, full of dreams, still believing the world was a safe place.
And then she saw the fracture—the before and after. The Ara who was whole… and the Ara who could never go back.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, her knuckles white as she tried to steady her trembling hands.
Mina's voice pulled faintly at her consciousness, still talking about her crush, still lighthearted. Ara nodded along silently, pretending to listen. Pretending she was fine.
Her lunch tasted like nothing. Each bite was mechanical, her throat dry.
Was I always this weak? The thought echoed in her chest like a curse. Even now, I can't raise my voice. I can't stop him. I can't even look at them.
The heaviness pressed down on her heart until it felt unbearable. But she swallowed it. She forced herself to sit there, to be calm, to not break.
With her gaze lowered, Ara silently ate, her body still and her spirit quietly screaming.
Across from her, Mina laughed, unaware.
Around her, the world carried on.
But inside Ara, the weight of that night pressed deeper, reminding her that in this reckless society—girls like those, girls like her—were never truly safe.
Scene: Outside the Restaurant,
The afternoon sunlight had softened, painting long shadows on the pavement as Ara stepped out of the restaurant. Mina's voice called faintly behind her, reminding her to wait, but Ara only murmured, "I'll be outside." Her steps were steady, but inside her chest, a storm churned.
And then—she froze.
One of the boys from earlier stood just a few feet away, leaning lazily against the wall, phone in hand. He was scrolling, smirking, laughing to himself. The faint sound of girls' voices from the videos on his phone carried in the air. Ara's pulse quickened.
Not again.
Her past flickered before her eyes—the alley, the mocking laughter, the helplessness. Her breath stuttered, but this time… no. She wouldn't let herself break. Not here. Not in front of them.
Her hand clenched into a fist as she stepped closer.
The boy noticed, raising a brow.
"What?" he scoffed, lowering his phone just enough to look her up and down.
Ara's voice was calm, almost too calm.
"Give me your phone."
For a moment, the boy blinked—then burst into a mocking laugh.
"Hah. You crazy? Who do you think you are?" He waved the phone in her face, taunting her.
Her throat tightened, but her gaze didn't waver.
"Delete the photos. Now."
That made him laugh harder, loud enough to call the others.
"Oi! Come here! Look at this girl—she thinks she's some kind of boss."
Footsteps shuffled as the other boys gathered, grinning like hyenas.
One leaned close, voice dripping with mockery.
"Why so serious, huh? You want me to delete it in front of you… or you want me to take another one?"
They all chuckled, shoulders bumping into each other. Another boy tilted his head, pretending sympathy.
"Poor thing. You scared?"
Ara's chest burned. Her legs trembled, but she dug her nails into her palm until it hurt, fighting to anchor herself. Fear clawed at her, dragging her back to the alley years ago—but another voice rose inside her, stronger:
Not this time. Not anymore.
When one of them reached out, fingertips brushing dangerously close to her arm—
SMACK!
A fist cut through the air, slamming into the boy's face. He stumbled back with a cry, clutching his jaw.
The laughter died.
The boys spun around in shock. Standing there, shoulders broad, eyes blazing with fury, was a tall young man in a casual jacket. His fist was still clenched, his stance unshaken.
Yoonseok Bean.
His gaze didn't leave the boy he'd struck. His voice came low, steady, dangerous.
"Touch her again… and you'll regret it."
For the first time, the boys were silent. Ara's breath caught, her entire body frozen—caught between the echo of fear and the sudden flare of safety in this stranger's presence.
And that's where the scene fades to black—Yoonseok's first appearance