2009 | Winter | Shinhwa High School
Rain pounded against the windows like fists, but no one inside cared. The hallway reeked of hairspray, damp shoes, and something more sour, fear.
Kim Yeonhee stood in the center of it all, surrounded.
Her blouse had been ripped open halfway. Her knees were bruised from being shoved. Her books, torn and soaked, lay scattered on the tiles like broken wings.
Park Yeonjin leaned against a locker with a curling iron in her hand, still hot. Smoke drifted from the tip, and laughter rang in Yeonhee's ears louder than any thunder outside.
> "Don't move, Kim Yeonhee," Yeonjin said sweetly. "Let's make you beautiful. You're not grateful enough for all our help."
Yeonhee trembled, silent. Always silent.
A sudden hiss. Burning. The iron grazed the top of her scalp....not for long, not enough to scar. Just enough to remind her that she could be hurt anytime.
Then came his voice.
> "You're wasting your time."
She turned, slow, terrified, and saw Jeon Jaejun.
He didn't touch her. He never did. He didn't have to. His power wasn't in his fists.
It was in his eyes.
Eyes that watched. Judged. Enjoyed.
> "You think this'll fix her?" he said, smirking at Yeonjin. "She was born pathetic."
Yeonhee's hands clenched at her sides.
No one noticed.
---
2023 | Present Day | Seoul
The city was louder than she remembered. Faster. Unforgiving.
Kim Yeonhee stood at the foot of Mirae Medical Tower, neck craned, staring at thirty-five floors of polished glass. Her heart raced. Her palms were damp.
She wore a beige cardigan. A pleated skirt. Her shoes were too soft, her hair tucked behind her ears, and her bag held nothing more than an old phone, some cash, and a folder full of forged credentials.
From the outside, she looked... ordinary.
On the inside?
She was still shattered.
But she had stitched herself back together with silence.
> "You can do this," she whispered.
She stepped through the revolving doors.
---
31st Floor | Clinical Trials Department
"Kim Yeonhee?" the receptionist asked.
Yeonhee nodded.
> "Room 3102. Dr. Park doesn't tolerate mistakes."
She bowed politely, then turned. Every step down the sterile white corridor echoed in her ears like gunfire.
Each door she passed had a name.
And behind one of them... was him.
She would see him again.
She thought she was ready.
---
Jaejun's POV - Same Building, Different Floor
Jeon Jaejun didn't believe in ghosts.
But that day, when he glanced across the lobby from the 26th floor, he thought he saw one.
A girl.
Small. Pale. Fragile.
And when she turned just slightly, her ID badge caught the light.
> Kim Yeonhee?
He leaned forward against the railing, confused. Curious.
She was supposed to have disappeared.
She did disappear.
> "Interesting..." he murmured, his lips curving upward.
He didn't know yet that this soft ghost would come for his soul.
---
Elevator Scene | Thirty Floors of Past and Pain
Yeonhee stepped inside the elevator alone.
She pressed 31.
The doors began to close.
But a hand stopped them.
A tall figure entered. Crisp black suit. Clean scent. Cool air trailing behind him like a shadow.
She felt it in her bones before she saw him.
Her eyes lifted slowly.
Jeon Jaejun.
His gaze locked onto hers.
For a moment, nothing existed but the space between them.
> "Yeonhee," he said, almost like tasting her name. "It's really you."
She said nothing. She couldn't trust her voice.
> "You changed..." he said, head tilting. "But not really."
Her fingers tightened around her bag strap.
> "You came back," he said again, softer now.
She looked up finally, her voice quiet but sharp like glass:
> "I never left."
The elevator rose.
28...
29...
They stood there like enemies. Strangers. History bound in silence.
> "Are you working here now?" he asked.
She nodded once.
> "Clinical trials."
> "Why?"
> "To survive."
31.
The doors opened.
Yeonhee stepped out first.
She didn't look back.
But Jaejun... did.
---
Yeonhee's Apartment That Night
It was barely a home.
Small. Cold. Quiet.
A kettle hissed in the corner. Her notebook lay open, covered in scribbled timelines and names.
She added a line under Jaejun's profile.
> "Saw me. Recognized me. Looked... surprised."
Her hand hesitated, then wrote again:
> "Still beautiful."
"Still cruel."
"Still made my heart stop."
She dropped the pen and stared at the ceiling.
Tears welled up, silent. Hot. Shameful.
> "Why does he still affect me?"
She bit her knuckle to muffle the sob.
Twelve years of pain, and he still had that power.
She remembered the feel of his voice in that elevator. How he spoke like nothing had happened. Like the past was a dream.
> "You destroyed me," she whispered.
And yet...
> "Why do I still want to understand you?"
---
Jaejun That Same Night
He sat in a private lounge with a glass of whiskey.
Outside, the city glowed.
But his mind wasn't on work. Not even on his fiancée, who was somewhere across the world at a charity event.
No.
His mind was on a girl with soft eyes and scars he could not see.
> "Yeonhee..."
She was the one he never touched. The one he allowed others to break.
The one he thought would vanish forever.
> "What are you doing here?"
He smirked slowly.
> "And what do you want from me now?"