Chapter 9- The Truth He Never Wrote.
You're the reason I'm here!!!!
Heads turned in the lobby. Whatever this was... it was about to get loud.
"Noona!"
The word burst out of him like a secret he had held for years. Soo Han's eyes widened as he reached forward, brushing his hand against Pari's arm as though to confirm she was flesh and blood, not a figment of his imagination. His voice trembled with a strange mixture of relief and disbelief.
"You're really here… You're real! Do you remember me? We met in Korea. That day."
Pari froze. Her name in his tone felt unfamiliar yet oddly heavy, like it carried the weight of a story unfinished.
His manager, standing rigid beside him, blinked in alarm. Switching quickly to Hangul, he demanded,
"너… 그녀를 아는 거야? 어떻게?"
(You know her? But how?)
Soo Han didn't hesitate. "알아요. 아주 잘요. 예전에 한국에서 만났어요. 우리는… 좋은 친구예요."
(I know her. Very well. We met before in Korea. We're… good friends.)
The manager's jaw nearly dropped. "Wait—what? Are you being serious?" His tone was laced with disbelief.
Both men were speaking rapidly in their native tongue, yet when the manager's gaze shifted toward Pari, there was a silent question hanging in the air. He was waiting for her to confirm or deny Soo Han's claim.
Pari's lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes met Soo Han's—his gaze pleading, urgent, as though he was asking her to save him from something unseen.
And the truth was… yes. She did know him.
Her heart gave a sudden thud as memories came flooding back, pulling her into a moment she had tried to bury.
Two Years Ago
Seoul, South Korea
Gangnam River
The night was cold, the kind that seeped into your bones. A breeze drifted off the river, carrying the faint hum of neon signs and the distant buzz of late-night traffic. Pari walked along the pathway, her coat pulled tightly around her. She had just finished meeting new recruits for her work and was heading back when her steps faltered.
Ahead, a boy stood at the river's edge—high up on the concrete step, his posture unsteady, his face streaked with tears that glimmered faintly under the streetlight. He wasn't just standing there. He was teetering, toes close to the edge as though one wrong breath would send him over.
Pari's instincts sharpened immediately. But instead of shouting, she approached calmly, her steps steady until she was right beside him. Without hesitation, she climbed up onto the step too.
The boy turned sharply, eyes widening. He hadn't expected company.
Pari tilted her head, looking down at the black, swirling water before glancing at him. "Is it that beautiful from here?"
His brows knit in confusion. "…What?"
"The river," she said simply. "Is it pretty enough that you came this close just to look? Or are you here because you think it's fun to take life for granted?"
For a moment, he just stared at her. Then, his lips twitched into something between a laugh and a scoff. "If you're trying to stop me, you're not very good at it. Who asks something like that?"
Her gaze stayed locked on his, unwavering. "I do. Because I can see it—you're not really going to jump. Or…" her eyes narrowed teasingly, "should I help you?"
His jaw dropped. "What?! Are you insane? Why would you— I can jump, you know!"
"Okay then," Pari shrugged, her tone casual, almost dismissive. "Jump."
He sputtered, completely thrown off. "…Now I don't feel like it!" His frustration spilled out in an exasperated groan. "You—ugh!"
With that, he climbed down from the ledge. Pari followed, brushing her hands against her coat as though dusting off the encounter. Without another glance, she turned to leave.
"Wait!" His footsteps hurried after her. "Where are you going?"
"Why would you even care about that?," she said flatly.
He trailed her into a small convenience store. The warm scent of instant ramen and coffee filled the air as Pari grabbed a canned drink. Turning sharply, she caught him hovering nearby.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded.
"I'm not!" he shot back quickly. "I can't walk into a store because I'm hungry?!"
Her eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "Right. So first you were about to end your life, and now you're craving food. Great logic."
His cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "T-that's not—ugh, forget it."
Pari rolled her eyes, paid for her drink, and sat outside at one of the plastic tables. She barely took a sip when she felt a tug on her coat. Looking down, she found the boy again—his expression soft, almost pitiful.
"Um… can you lend me some money?" he asked hesitantly. "I don't have any on me. And… technically, you're responsible for me still being alive, so—"
Pari blinked at him, dumbfounded. "What kind of reasoning is that?! Should've let you jump!" Still, she sighed, pulled out some cash, and handed it over.
Minutes later, he sat across from her, chewing quietly on his sandwich. They ate in silence, the hum of traffic and the flicker of neon signs filling the quiet spaces between them.
Finally, Pari spoke. "So. Why were you up there?"
He stiffened, his sandwich pausing midair. "You're… really straightforward."
"Always," she said with a shrug.
"…I wasn't really going to jump," he admitted, dropping his gaze. "I was just… looking. Thinking."
Her expression softened, though she didn't show it.
After a pause, he glanced at her again.
Now that we have met, let me introduce myself to you! "I'm Soo Han."
She hesitated a second before replying, "Pari. Pari Shah."
His lips curved faintly. "Indian? A tourist?"
Pari almost corrected him, but let the assumption slide.
Pari lifted her coffee cup to her lips, letting the warm bitterness linger for a moment before she asked, her brows knitting in curiosity.
"I have a question. I've not met many people here who speak fluent English. How come you do?"
Soo Han looked up from his half-eaten sandwich, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, right. That's because I'm actually American–Korean. Mostly Korean, but…" He gave a casual shrug. "I was born here, then studied in America for most of my life. And now I'm back."
Pari nodded slowly. "Ahh, makes sense." She glanced at her watch and began gathering her things. "Well, that's my cue to leave. Bye!"
"Wait!" Soo Han blurted, a little too quickly. He held up his sandwich defensively. "At least let me finish this before you go. You paid for it, so it's your responsibility to make sure I don't waste food."
Pari stared at him, blinking. "Wow. That makes absolutely no sense." But even as she said it, her sharp eyes softened. She could read people easily—always had—and something in his expression told her he didn't want to be left alone. Still, Pari never showed sympathy openly.
"Fine," she sighed, dropping back into the chair. "Finish it."
As she sat there, she found herself shifting awkwardly, glancing around the café. Soo Han looked distant, his eyes unfocused as if wrestling with something heavy inside his head. After a beat, she leaned forward and asked, "Are you always like this? Lost in thoughts, or is today special?"
Soo Han hesitated, chewing slowly. Then, almost like he had to summon courage, he said, "Actually… I'm a writer."
Pari raised a brow. "A writer?"
"Yeah," he admitted, fidgeting slightly. "I write stories. Recently I started one, a novel about a boy, but after releasing a few chapters, I got stuck. I don't know what to write next. My head's a mess."
Pari tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. She wasn't someone who cared for books, but there was something vulnerable in the way he said it. "What's the story about?"
"If you really want to know, I'll tell you," he said quickly, almost too eagerly.
Pari smirked. "Go on then. Not like I read much, but maybe I can help."
Soo Han set his sandwich aside, his tone shifting as he began.
"It's about a boy born into a broken family. He was unwanted from the very start. His parents—both drunkards—saw him only as a burden. They made him do housework, never sent him to school, never treated him like their child. To them, he was just… an extra mouth to feed."
Pari's gaze sharpened as she listened.
"One day," Soo Han continued, "his parents fell into financial ruin. And instead of fighting for him, they sold him. At seven years old, they handed him over to a wealthy political family in exchange for money."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Not because they cared. Not because the family truly wanted him. No. He was just a trophy—proof of their so-called kindness. A way to win the public's votes."
Pari's lips parted slightly, but she stayed silent.
"After the elections were over, that family discarded him too. Threw him out like trash. He wandered the streets alone, night after night, until one day, a nun from a nearby church noticed him. She took him in, gave him food, shelter, kindness. For the first time in his life, someone cared."
His voice softened, almost reverent. "He grew up in the orphanage, surrounded by children just like him. He worked hard, studied harder. Eventually, his brilliance earned him a scholarship to America. And there, he flourished. He built a name for himself, became respected, successful… someone the world admired."
Pari leaned forward slightly, caught in the rhythm of his storytelling.
"But," Soo Han's voice faltered, "when he returned to his hometown years later to thank the nun and the people who had helped him, he was met with a nightmare. One evening, while staying at a hotel, the doorbell rang. And standing there were his parents."
Pari frowned. "The same ones who abandoned him?"
"Yes," Soo Han said bitterly. "The same. They smiled, spoke sweetly, pretended as if nothing had happened. They told him they cared, that they missed him. For a moment, he almost believed them—because deep down, all he had ever wanted was to feel loved by them again. But then…" His voice dropped. "They asked him for money."
Pari's chest tightened.
"They followed him everywhere after that," Soo Han whispered. "Stalked him, humiliated him in public, even at his workplace. Called him ungrateful. Accused him of forgetting where he came from. And in the end, the boy began to wonder… was it his fault? Had his success created this misery? Would it have been better if he had stayed invisible?"
Silence hung heavy between them. Soo Han's eyes were clouded with the weight of the tale, and perhaps something personal beneath it.
Finally, Pari spoke. "This story is…" She paused, searching for the right words.
Soo Han leaned in, expecting her to say it was beautiful, moving—something to encourage him.
But Pari, in her blunt honesty, said, "Weird. Sad, yes, but still weird. Can't you write a better one?"
His jaw dropped. "Uhh—that's your answer?"
"No, that's my reaction." She smirked. "But let's be real. After this point, you don't have anything else planned for the story, do you?"
Soo Han's shoulders slumped. "…Yeah." His voice was quiet, defeated.
Pari looked at Soo Han with a serious expression. "Then that boy should just jump in a river, or end his own life?"
Soo Han's eyes widened. "What? How can you say something like that?"
Pari took a deep breath. "I just think it's silly. Why would he do that? It makes no sense to me."
Soo Han shook his head, confused. "Why do you think that?"
She leaned forward, her voice softer but firm. "Listen. That boy—he was abandoned by his parents, right? And now he wants to go back and help them? The same people who hurt him so much? If they were the cause of all his pain, he should have left them behind a long time ago. He needs to live his own life, not try to fix theirs."
She continued, "They were his parents once, but not anymore. He worked hard. He's doing well now. He deserves to be happy after everything he's been through. Why should he sacrifice his own life for people who never cared about him?"
Pari looked right at him. "Anyone who thinks otherwise is just being foolish. In Korean, you people call that being a 'pabo'—it means idiot."
For a moment, Soo Han was quiet. He'd never thought about it this way before. The words made him think about his own life, and a wave of emotion hit him hard. Tears filled his eyes before he realized it.
Pari noticed and, for the first time in a long time, she let herself be gentle. She patted his back, letting him cry just a little. For a few seconds, Soo Han hugged her—just grateful for someone who understood, even if only for a moment.
Soo Han's arms tightened around her as though letting go would shatter him. His breath was unsteady, his face buried against her shoulder, but beneath the trembling there was something more—a fierce, unspoken yearning.
He didn't just seek comfort; he sought her. In that fragile silence, every beat of his heart thudded with emotions he had hidden too long—fear, relief, and something dangerously close to love.
Pari felt his tears against her skin, and though she stood still, unsure of how to respond, Soo Han held on as if she was the only anchor he had left. For him, that moment wasn't just solace—it was a confession without words.
He stepped back, wiping his tears away. "Sorry," he said with a small, bashful smile. "Your words really touched me. I haven't felt this in a long time. Thank you. Really—I'm glad I met you today."
Soo Han looked at her and joked, "Noona, thank you! That means…uhhh… friend!" He grinned, even though she probably knew what it really meant.
Pari just smiled quietly and patted his back again. "Tell that boy in your story not to give up. Be brave." She started to walk away. "And now, it's time for me to go. Let's not meet again—at least not like this. Goodbye! Get home safely!"
Before Soo Han could say another word, Pari turned away. Her footsteps were steady, but her heart was not. Behind her, she could feel his gaze lingering—heavy, longing, desperate for something he couldn't bring himself to ask for. His lips parted, as if he wanted to call out, to ask her name, her number, anything to keep her from walking out of his world. But the moment slipped, and she was gone.
For Soo Han, their encounter in South Korea ended far too soon, yet her words clung to him like a miracle he hadn't asked for—a new lens through which he saw his own pain.
Pari didn't look back. She inhaled sharply, forcing her chest to steady, and pushed forward until the quiet swallowed her.
She wandered aimlessly until she reached the small park near her apartment. Dropping onto the swing, she let out a long, frustrated sigh. The cool evening breeze brushed against her skin, but it couldn't soothe the storm raging inside her.
To anyone else, Soo Han was a name celebrated across continents—South Korea's golden boy of literature. A young novelist adored by teenagers and respected by adults alike, his works were published by one of the most prestigious companies in the country. His books had crossed oceans, winning hearts worldwide. He was a scholar, brilliant in his studies, yet strangely enigmatic. Despite his popularity, his personal life remained locked away—no family details, no childhood stories, nothing beyond the flawless image he portrayed.
But Pari knew better.
Books had always been her refuge, her only comfort through the loneliness that shadowed her. And among all the writers she had read, Soo Han was the one she admired most. She had followed his career from the very beginning, drawn to the raw beauty of his words. Still, she never let her admiration grow into obsession—she respected him quietly, from a distance.
That was why, when she first saw him in person, she had been shaken. Shocked. Not because of his fame, but because of the truth she had glimpsed behind his eyes. A truth he had unknowingly revealed to her.
And she knew.
The story he spoke of earlier wasn't fiction. It wasn't another upcoming bestseller. It was his life. His parents. His pain. His scars.
Her hands gripped the swing chains tightly. How could someone who gave the world so much hope, carry so much sorrow inside himself?
Her chest tightened. This wasn't about being a fan anymore. This was about the man himself—the one who had smiled through a storm he never deserved.
By the time she walked home, her decision was made. Anger and determination burned on her face.
She stormed into the house and found Mr. Lee waiting in the living room.
"이사님."
Mr. Lee.
He looked up from the documents in his hand, surprised by her tone.
"네, 마님. 무슨 일이십니까?"
Yes, ma'am. What is it?
"저를 좀 도와주셔야겠어요."
I need your help with something.
His brows furrowed.
"뭐든 하겠습니다. 하지만 다시 위험한 일은 안 됩니다. 이미 위험한 일에 휘말리셨잖아요."
Anything, but nothing that could put you in danger again. You've already been caught up in something risky recently.
Pari rolled her eyes.
"아이 참, 그건 위험한 것도 아니었잖아요. 그리고 이번 일도 아니에요. 제가 찾고 싶은 사람이 있어요."
Oh, come on. That wasn't dangerous. And no, this isn't either. I need your help to find someone.
She picked up her tablet, typed quickly, and turned the screen toward him. A picture of Soo Han appeared.
"이 남자에 대한 모든 걸 알아내 주세요. 그의 과거, 가족, 부모님… 지금까지 어떻게 살아왔는지 전부요. 쉽지 않을 거라는 건 알아요. 하지만 반드시 찾아내야 합니다. 특히 그의 부모님."
I want everything about him. His background. His family. His parents. How he's lived all these years. I know it won't be easy—his life has been hidden well. But I want every detail. Find his parents.
Mr. Lee blinked in shock.
"알겠습니다… 그런데 왜죠? 그를 아십니까?"
Got it… but why? Do you know him?
Pari's expression softened into sorrow.
"…아니요. 잘은 몰라요. 하지만… 느껴져요."
I don't know him… not really. But I feel him.
Those words were enough. Mr. Lee didn't argue further. Within hours, his network was set into motion. By the next day, the documents were in her hands.
Pari tore the file open and scanned the pages. Her chest ached with every word. Finally, she looked up.
"이사님."
Mr. Lee.
"예?"
Yes?
"그의 부모님 주소 있죠?"
You have their address, don't you? His parents.
He hesitated.
"…네. 하지만 설마 지금 당장 가시겠다는 건 아니죠?"
Yes… but wait, you're not saying you'll—
"저 지금 바로 갈 겁니다."
I'm going there right now.
Alarm flashed across his face.
"안 됩니다! 절대 안 됩니다! 그건 너무 무모해요. 그냥 찾아가실 순—"
No! Absolutely not! That's too reckless—you can't just—
Pari cut him off sharply.
"걱정하는 건 알아요. 하지만 제 말 잘 들으세요."
I know you're worried. But listen carefully before you panic.
She stepped closer, her eyes blazing.
"저는 갈 겁니다. 그리고 이사님도 같이 가야 해요. 검은 양복 입으시고… 하녀에게 제 것도 준비시키세요. 보석까지 전부. 우리가 해야 할 일이 있어요."
I'm going there, and you're coming with me. Wear your black suit. And tell the house lady to prepare mine—with all the jewelry. There's something we need to do.
Mr. Lee exhaled, already exhausted.
"…이번엔 또 무슨 일을 꾸미시려는 건지."
What is she planning this time…?