[Run-Seo]
Run-Seo didn't sleep.
Again.
The clock on her bedside table read 2:14 a.m.
Then 2:37.
Then 3:01.
The messages remained open.
The video remained undeleted.
And the name—
Lee Jae-Won.
Still sat at the top of the screen.
She stared at it.
Long enough for the letters to blur.
Then finally—
she typed.
What are you even contacting me for?
The message delivered instantly.
Seen.
Almost immediately.
Like he'd been waiting.
The reply came seconds later.
You're the only person who knew how he was like before.
Run-Seo's chest tightened.
Before.
Everyone kept saying that word.
Before.
Before the fame.
Before the rumors.
Before everything went wrong.
She looked down at her hands.
Slowly.
Then typed again.
What do you why want?
This time—
the pause lasted longer.
Then—
Information.
Run-Seo frowned.
About what?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then—
Ever talk about me?
She blinked.
That wasn't the question she expected.
No.
A pause.
Then—
Interesting.
Another message appeared.
Does he still apologize for things that isn't his fault?
Run-Seo froze.
Because the answer was obvious.
Painfully obvious.
She remembered hearing it hundreds of times.
Thousands.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Even when he wasn't responsible.
Even when everyone else knew he wasn't responsible.
Even when he looked exhausted.
She stared at the screen.
Then replied.
Yes.
Several seconds passed.
Then—
I thought so.
The reply bothered her.
A lot.
Because it sounded less like a guess.
And more like confirmation.
Like Jae-Won already knew the answer.
Like he had expected it.
Run-Seo's fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Then finally—
she asked:
What happened back then?
Seen.
Immediately.
No response.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
Nothing.
Run-Seo frowned.
Then suddenly—
a notification appeared.
An image.
She opened it.
And her breath caught.
An old trainee practice room.
Years ago.
The walls were different.
The mirrors older.
The lighting dimmer.
Two boys stood in the middle.
One of them was Kei.
Younger.
Smiling.
Actually smiling.
The other was Jae-Won.
Standing beside him.
Arm thrown over Kei's shoulder.
Looking like best friends.
Run-Seo stared.
Because she'd never seen this photo before.
Then another message appeared.
He never showed you this?
Run-Seo swallowed.
No.
He hadn't.
A final message followed.
That's interesting.
The knot in her stomach tightened.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Then—
one last message arrived.
And this one made her freeze.
I wonder if he told you why he stopped trusting people.
Run-Seo's eyes widened.
Her thumb stopped moving.
Because suddenly—
she wasn't sure she knew the answer.
And that terrified her.
☆ ☆ ☆
[No-Ah]
The next afternoon—
the café was busy.
Not unbearably busy.
Just enough to keep everyone occupied.
Min-Ji was making coffee.
Poorly.
Run-Seo was unusually quiet.
Concerningly quiet.
And No-Ah was pretending not to notice.
A strategy that wasn't working.
Because she kept noticing.
The café bell chimed.
An older customer walked inside.
Ordered coffee.
Sat down.
Pulled out a magazine.
Normal.
Completely normal.
Until—
he laughed.
"No way."
No-Ah glanced up.
The man pointed at a page.
"That idol."
No-Ah looked.
Immediately regretted it.
Kei.
Of course.
Why wouldn't it be Kei?
The universe apparently enjoyed this joke.
The man shook his head.
"He looks happier these days."
No-Ah froze.
Just slightly.
The customer continued reading.
Unaware.
Completely unaware.
"He used to look tired all the time."
"Hm."
The man smiled.
"But lately?"
He tapped the page.
"Different."
Then he returned to his coffee.
Like he hadn't just ruined No-Ah's concentration.
No-Ah looked away.
Immediately.
Unfortunately—
the comment lingered.
Happier.
It was a strange thing to say.
Yet—
she found herself thinking about it anyway.
The park.
The swing.
The laugh she'd heard.
The smile she'd seen.
The way he'd looked after getting rid of the melatonin.
The thought refused to leave.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Across the café—
Run-Seo had heard the comment too.
And for a brief moment—
their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
Neither knew the other had been thinking the exact same thing.
Then both looked away.
Almost immediately.
☆ ☆ ☆
[Run-Seo]
That night—
she opened the messages again.
Read them.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The photo.
The questions.
The name.
Everything.
Then finally—
she typed
Why are you asking me all this?
The typing bubble appeared instantly.
As though Jae-Won had been waiting.
Watching.
Ready.
His answer came seconds later.
Because he's changed, Run-Seo.
Run-Seo stared.
The exact same words.
The same ones he'd started with.
Then another message arrived.
Aren't you curious why?
And for the first time—
Run-Seo didn't answer.
Because she was.
Very, very curious.
And that was exactly what scared her.
☆ ☆ ☆