Flashback

The evening sun cast a golden hue over the city streets, where two young women strolled side by side. Their gentle laughter echoed softly in the air, blending seamlessly with the tranquil sounds of dusk. Both of them, graceful and radiant, appeared lost in their own vibrant world—sharing whispers and light-hearted giggles.

As they walked, Dain’s gaze shifted to the side of the street. Her smile faltered slightly as she noticed an older woman standing near the corner, her small frame trembling under the weight of anxiety. She was wrapped in a simple, worn cardigan, the faded gray fabric clinging to her shoulders like it had weathered countless seasons. Her white hair was neatly pinned into a bun, though a few stray strands fluttered against her wrinkled face. Her hands, slightly shaky, clutched a small handbag as her wide, frightened eyes darted around, searching for something—or someone.

“Y/N, look at that lady,” Dain said, her concern evident.

Y/N glanced over, her expression unreadable. “Hmm. She looks tired,” she remarked indifferently.

“And worried too. Should we help her?” Dain asked, slowing her pace.

Y/N frowned slightly. “No, Dain. We shouldn’t poke our noses into someone else’s business.”

It wasn’t that Y/N lacked compassion—she simply believed in boundaries. Helping strangers wasn’t her forte, and she often saw such situations as unnecessary distractions.

Dain hesitated but chose to respect Y/N’s stance, and the two continued walking. However, just as they passed the old woman, a frail, trembling voice called out to them.

“Excuse me, girls,” called the old woman, her voice laced with hesitation.

Both Y/N and Dain turned, surprised.

“Us?” Y/N asked, her brows knitting slightly.

“Yes, you both,” the woman confirmed, motioning them closer.

The girls exchanged glances before cautiously approaching her.

“Will you tell me where *** is?” the woman asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Confusion flickered across their faces. Dain smiled kindly and said, “Ma’am, this is ***.”

The woman’s face fell, and she began to fidget nervously, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead. “But this isn’t the place I need to be,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Concern pierced through Y/N’s usual indifference. The woman’s palpable fear stirred something within her.

“Are you lost?” Y/N asked, her voice softer now.

“Maybe...yes,” the woman replied, her eyes brimming with helplessness. “I’ve never been here before, and I don’t know where to go. I came here to find my grandson’s house, but now—” Her voice cracked with frustration and exhaustion.

“You should call someone from your family,” Dain suggested gently.

The woman shook her head in defeat. “I did...but he’s not answering. What should I do now?”

Y/N studied her closely, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of the woman’s despair. “Are you trying to get to ***?” she asked suddenly. “It’s common for newcomers to confuse the two areas.”

The woman’s face lit up with relief. “Yes! That’s it! Thank you, dear,” she said, her tone lifting for the first time.

Dain smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, ma’am. It’s not far from here.”

But just as the woman seemed to relax, her expression shifted back to worry. “Could you...could you girls take me there? I’m afraid I’ll get lost again,” she admitted hesitantly.

Y/N was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but—”

“Of course, we will!” Dain interrupted, cutting Y/N off with her characteristic cheerfulness.

Y/N turned to her friend, aghast. “Dain, what are you doing? She could just take a bus—”

“Nonsense,” Dain said firmly, grabbing Y/N’s arm. “Come on, Y/N. We can spare a little time to help her.”

And just like that, Y/N found herself roped into an impromptu mission to guide the old woman home. Though reluctant, she couldn’t deny the warmth in the woman’s grateful smile—or the determined look in Dain’s eyes.

As the three of them walked together, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if this unexpected detour was going to be just another hassle—or the start of something far more significant.

The old lady didn’t seem to take a single breath of relief throughout the entire walk. Instead, she launched into what could only be described as an epic recounting of her family’s entire history. Her frail appearance betrayed her boundless energy as she chattered on and on, weaving stories of her grandson, her late husband, her siblings, and even her neighbor’s cats.

Y/N and Dain exchanged a glance, their forced smiles betraying the regret they felt. Neither had anticipated this unrelenting torrent of chatter when they agreed to help her.

“She still has the energy to talk so much?” Dain whispered, her tone a mix of astonishment and exhaustion.

With every word the old lady spoke, Y/N’s patience wore thinner. She leaned slightly toward Dain and whispered, “Why did you say yes?” Her voice carried the sharp edge of annoyance.

Dain winced, the weight of her decision sinking in. “It just slipped out of my mouth!” she defended in a hushed tone. “But Y/N, my head is about to burst! I can’t take it anymore—there’s still half an hour left. My poor ears…”

“Speak slower, or she’ll hear you,” Y/N whispered, her eyes darting to the old lady, who seemed oblivious to their hushed exchange. “We’ve made it this far. Just tolerate it for a little longer.”

Suddenly, the old lady’s phone rang, offering a brief reprieve. She paused her storytelling to fish the device out of her handbag, her face lighting up as she answered.

“I’m fine,” she said into the phone, her voice brimming with warmth.

“We are not fine here,” Dain muttered under her breath, earning a sharp nudge from Y/N.

“Be quiet!” Y/N hissed.,

The old lady continued speaking, seemingly unaware of the brewing mutiny beside her. “I’ll be there in a little while,” she said, her voice steady. “I was lost, but I found two lovely girls who are helping me. I’m coming with them now.”

She smiled at Y/N and Dain, her gratitude evident.

The moment the old lady hung up, Dain, desperate to avoid any more chatter, let her head droop to one side and feigned sleep. Y/N glanced at her in disbelief, her eyes narrowing into a silent promise of retribution.

The old lady turned to Y/N, looking slightly puzzled. “Oh, she was awake just now. When did she fall asleep?”

Forcing a polite smile, Y/N replied, “She must be tired. Probably.”

The old lady nodded sympathetically and resumed her storytelling—this time directed solely at Y/N. With Dain pretending to sleep, Y/N bore the full brunt of the woman’s unrelenting narrative.

Dain, safe in her faux slumber, knew she would pay dearly for this betrayal later. Y/N would most certainly exact her revenge for being left alone to endure this endless monologue.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached their destination.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief, her exhaustion visible. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath. Dain “woke up” conveniently, stretching as though she had been in a deep slumber.

All three of them got off the bus. The old lady mentioned that her grandson had promised to pick her up at the stop. She stood scanning the area, her frail frame illuminated by the streetlights. Dain, with her head down, shifted uncomfortably, stealing glances at y/n. The fiery glare on y/n’s face was unmistakable—a warrior ready for battle. Summoning courage, Dain muttered softly, "Let's go."

y/n didn’t argue this time. If the grandson was on his way, they could finally leave.

"Ms., we’ll be on our way now—" y/n began, but a voice from behind interrupted her.

"Grandma!"

The warmth in that voice froze y/n mid-sentence. Her gaze darted to the source. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his confident strides drawing all attention. He wore a black outfit that seemed to absorb the faint glow of the streetlights. His wavy black hair danced in the gentle breeze, framing his face that was partially hidden behind a mask. Even with half his features obscured, his presence was magnetic. His dark brown eyes, like polished onyx, glistened with concern.

As he approached, y/n’s heart betrayed her, its steady rhythm now a frantic drumbeat. The world around her faded; her focus locked solely on him. For someone who prided herself on her indifference, this was new—terrifying yet captivating. Her guard was slipping with every step he took.

The boy reached the old lady, and in one fluid motion, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. His shoulders relaxed as if the weight of his worries had been lifted.

"Thank God you’re safe," he whispered, his voice soft but firm, laced with relief.

y/n barely registered the conversation. She was too engrossed in observing him—his every movement, the gentle way he stroked his grandmother's back, the raw emotion in his voice.

A sharp whisper snapped her out of her trance. "He’s handsome, isn’t he?"

y/n turned sharply, her face heating as Dain smirked at her teasingly. Flustered, y/n cleared her throat and straightened her posture, her fingers nervously fixing her ponytail.

“Stop it,” she muttered, shooting Dain a warning glare.

The boy pulled away from the hug, his dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Grandma, I told you not to go out alone. Look at what happened."

The old lady stroked his hair, her lips curving into a soft smile. "What would happen to me? I found these two lovely girls who helped me."

The boy looked at them for the first time, his gaze brushing over Dain before settling on y/n. His eyes softened, his expression shifting from casual curiosity to something deeper.

She was stunning.

"Jungkook, these are the angels who helped me—y/n and Dain," she introduced proudly.

Jungkook gave them a slight bow, his gaze lingering on y/n. "Thank you for helping my grandmother." His voice, deep and velvety, sent an unintentional shiver down y/n’s spine.

As Jungkook stood there, his heart swirled with unfamiliar emotions. At first glance, he had only been curious about the two girls who had helped his grandmother. But when his eyes landed on her—y/n—something inside him shifted.

She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever seen before. Her presence wasn’t loud or demanding, yet it commanded his attention. She was effortlessly stunning, exuding a quiet confidence that drew him in. Her petite frame, perfectly poised yet slightly tired, spoke of resilience. Her soft features radiated a kind of beauty that didn’t shout but whispered, captivating him more with every passing second.

Jungkook found himself noticing the tiniest details: the way her hair fell loosely in a ponytail, framing her delicate face; the way her pearl-like eyes carried both warmth and a hint of guardedness; the natural glow of her skin under the dim streetlights. Her coral lips, slightly parted, seemed as if they were about to speak words that could still his restless thoughts.

And those eyes—God, those eyes. They weren’t just eyes; they were a gateway to something he couldn’t quite put into words. They had a depth to them, a story untold, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to unravel it.

His breath caught when her gaze flickered toward him. It wasn’t intentional on her part, but the brief connection left him feeling exposed, as if she’d glimpsed a part of him he wasn’t ready to share.

This was new. Strange. Jungkook wasn’t the type to be easily fazed. His life had taught him to stay composed, guarded, untouchable. Yet, here he was, his heart racing for someone whose name he’d just learned.

The old lady clapped her hands. "You two must come to our house! Let’s have coffee together."

Jungkook's heart leapt. The thought of spending even a few more minutes in her presence filled him with a strange excitement.

Y/n was tired. Before she could decline, Dain chimed in, "I have no problem."

y/n’s head snapped toward her friend, her eyes ablaze. How could Dain be so reckless? This was a stranger’s house, late at night!

y/n inhaled sharply, forcing calm into her voice. "You can go, Dain. I’m heading home."

Jungkook’s expression faltered for the briefest moment. His grandmother frowned but quickly covered it with a smile.

“If y/n isn’t coming, then I won’t go either,” Dain said reluctantly.

The old lady’s pleading eyes turned to y/n. “Come on, dear. It’s just thirty minutes.”

“No, ma’am. We’re already late,” y/n replied firmly. She didn’t have the strength for more small talk, no matter how inviting the offer sounded.

The old lady sighed in resignation. “Alright. But thank you, girls, from the bottom of my heart.”

“It was our pleasure,” y/n replied politely.

y/n gave a polite nod, ignoring the flutter in her chest because of Jungkook.

As the girls turned to leave, Jungkook watched them walk away. His gaze followed y/n until her silhouette blurred into the darkness. Something about her drew him in—a quiet strength, an unspoken allure. He didn’t know when or if he’d see her again, but the thought lingered in his mind like a distant melody.

As they walked away, Dain couldn’t resist teasing her friend. “Did you see the way he looked at you? I think you’ve got yourself a fan.”

“Shut up,” y/n muttered, quickening her pace. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the image of his piercing eyes and that warm smile.

Neither could Jungkook. As he escorted his grandmother home, his thoughts kept drifting to the girl with the loose ponytail and fiery spirit who’d unknowingly stolen a piece of his heart.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, and a strange emptiness clawed at his chest. Why did it matter so much? He barely knew her. And yet, as her figure disappeared into the darkness, it felt like he was losing something he didn’t even have.

For the first time in his life, Jungkook was at a loss for words. He didn’t know when or if he’d see her again.

All he knew was that the girl with the fiery spirit and crescent smile had left an indelible mark on him. And as he walked his grandmother home, her image lingered in his mind—a mystery he was determined to solve.

Present

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, his brows lifting in amusement as he teased, "I didn't know you were so smitten that you'd drag her into the interview room."

Jungkook, reclining lazily yet with an edge of restlessness, smirked. "I don’t know if it’s love or not. But when I saw her application, I couldn’t stop myself. Something about her…" His voice trailed off, as though he were grappling with emotions he wasn’t used to acknowledging. "Unusual emotions compelled me to meet her."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, still not satisfied. "And the reason she seemed so disturbed?" He didn’t have to finish his sentence. The mischievous glint in Jungkook’s eyes said it all. Realizing what had transpired, Taehyung let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head at his friend’s antics.

"What did you do now?"

Jungkook recounted the morning's incident, a mix of amusement and pride in his tone. But Taehyung’s laughter faded quickly, replaced by a concerned frown.

"Do you want to impress her or make her despise you?"

Jungkook leaned forward, confusion etched on his face. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Taehyung didn’t mince his words. "You’re interested in her, right? You want to build something with her?"

"Yes," Jungkook admitted without hesitation. "I want to know her better."

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Then you’ve got to change your approach. You’re not giving her much reason to like you right now.You really messed this one up, didn’t you? Sometimes pride can destroy more than just reputations, Jungkook.”

Jungkook shrugged, leaning back again with nonchalance. "Look, I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not. If she’s going to like me, it’ll be for who I am. No pretense, no games."

This was classic Jungkook—confident, almost to a fault. His carefree, playful nature often masked a depth few got to see. Taehyung knew this about his friend but also recognized that relationships required more than just being oneself.

"You're making this harder than it has to be," Taehyung muttered, though he couldn’t help but admire Jungkook’s conviction. This was the first time he had seen his friend genuinely captivated by someone, and he wanted things to work out.

"What’s your next move, then? Select her just because you’re interested?"

Jungkook’s expression shifted to something more serious, his tone steady. "Absolutely not. She’ll get the job only if she deserves it."

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow. "And after the stunt you pulled today, do you think she’ll accept the offer, even if she gets selected?"

Jungkook’s lips quirked into a small smile. "That’s not up to me. Fate will decide. I’ve done my part; the rest is out of my hands."

Taehyung sighed heavily, watching his friend with a mix of frustration and fondness. Jungkook’s unwavering confidence in his own methods was both admirable and exasperating.

"Sometimes, you make things unnecessarily complicated," Taehyung muttered. He wanted to believe Jungkook could make this work, but knowing his friend's stubbornness, the road ahead would be anything but smooth. Still, he couldn’t help but root for him. After all, this was the first time Jungkook seemed genuinely serious about someone.

Jungkook, however, remained unfazed. His dark eyes gleamed with determination, a quiet promise hidden beneath his playful exterior. If fate willed it, Y/N would come into his life—and when she did, he would make sure she stayed.

At y/n's house:

Y/N was lying on her bed with a pillow under her chin, her expression distant. Dain sat beside her, holding the remnants of her broken phone, concern etched on her face.

Dain: "So that’s why you weren’t picking up the phone."

Her reply came in a dull tone, devoid of emotion. "Yes."

It was as if the weight of the day had drained her entirely. She had returned home after the disastrous interview, her heart heavy with guilt and self-doubt. She hadn’t even found the energy to go to Dain’s house to talk.

When Dain couldn’t reach her despite multiple calls, she decided to visit her instead.

Dain: "So, what now?"

Y/N sighed, her voice barely above a whisper as she recounted everything that had happened during the day. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unwilling to meet her friend’s eyes.

Dain: "What’s your next step? Are you planning to leave the city or what?"

Y/N: "What is there to do now? I’ve already done what I had to this morning."

Her frustration with herself was evident. The memory of the morning’s events gnawed at her, each moment replaying in her mind like a cruel reminder of her missteps.

Dain: "Whatever you did was right, Y/N."

She sat up suddenly, clutching the pillow tightly in her lap, her voice tinged with disbelief. "How?"

Dain: "Maybe it won’t affect anything."

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Dain hesitated before explaining, choosing her words carefully. "It’s possible that what that man did was part of the interview."

Y/N blinked, confusion clouding her features. "Flirting? Part of an interview? How does that make sense?"

Dain leaned back, crossing her arms as she thought out loud. "You know how these big companies are—they test candidates in every way. Suppose you’re on a research project somewhere, and a good-looking guy approaches you. Would you get distracted or stick to your work? Maybe they were testing your focus or your ability to handle unexpected situations."

Y/N tilted her head, considering her words. It was a far-fetched idea, but it planted a tiny seed of hope in her heart. What if she was right?

But doubt crept back in just as quickly. "Or," she countered, "what if they were checking how candidates respond under pressure? What if my reaction today ruined everything?"

Their conversation meandered into all sorts of scenarios, some bordering on absurd, others surprisingly plausible. They were young, after all, and speculating out loud helped ease the weight of her guilt, even if just a little.

Dain: "Look, if a message comes tomorrow, we’ll figure it out. For now, get some rest. I’m heading home. And tomorrow, we’re getting you a new phone."

Y/N shook her head immediately. "I can’t afford a new phone right now."

Dain smiled softly, brushing off her concern. "I’ll cover whatever you’re short on. Don’t worry about it."

But the idea of taking another favor from her friend made Y/N squirm with discomfort. She looked at Dain thoughtfully, then suddenly blurted, "Give me your phone."

Before Dain could even react, Y/N snatched the phone from her hand, ignoring her protests. Unlocking it quickly, she dialed a familiar number and waited as it rang.

Y/N: "Hello, Dad? It’s me, Y/N.",

Y/N's dad: "Oh, dear, how are you?"

The moment she heard his voice, a wave of relief mixed with guilt surged through her.

Y/N: "I'm fine, Dad. How is everyone there?"

Her voice trembled. It had been so long since she had called him just to ask this. Now, after all this time, she was reaching out for help.

Y/N’s dad: "We’re all good. But why are you calling from Dain’s phone? Where’s yours?"

Her lips quivered as she replied, "It’s broken." She paused, struggling to form the words. She had to ask for money, but the shame of her dependency weighed on her heavily.

Her father’s voice remained calm, understanding her need without her having to explain. "Hmm. I’ll send you the money."

Those simple words shattered the fragile wall she had built around her emotions. She gripped the phone tightly, tears stinging her eyes. Despite her lack of effort to stay in touch, he responded with love and care every single time.

Her voice broke as she whispered, "Thank you, Dad."

He had always been this way. Even when she was distant, his affection never wavered. Her guilt rose like a tide, drowning her in self-loathing. How could she call herself his daughter when she only reached out during times of need?

Y/N’s dad: "If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?"

He didn’t question her about her life or the job. He never put pressure on her, always respecting her space. That understanding, that silent reassurance, broke her even further.

Y/N: "Dad, today was my interview."

Her father’s tone immediately brightened with pride. "Oh, wow! You’ll get selected for sure. With all our blessings, I know you’ll do great."

His faith in her was unshakable, as though her success was inevitable. His encouragement felt like a gentle hug through the phone.

Y/N’s dad: "Now go to sleep. It’s late, and you’ve done your best. Don’t worry too much. Everything will work out. Goodnight, dear."

Y/N: "Goodnight, Dad. Bye."

As soon as the call ended, Y/N burst into tears. She gripped Dain’s phone, her body shaking with the force of her sobs.

"I’m so selfish, Dain," she choked out between breaths. "All I do is take. I don’t even deserve their love."

Dain immediately sat beside her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Stop it, Y/N. You’re not selfish," Dain said, her voice firm yet gentle. "You’re just someone who’s trying to find her way. That doesn’t make you a bad person."

Y/N shook her head, her voice trembling. "They deserve so much better than me. I never call them unless I need something. And still, Dad—he just—he didn’t even hesitate."

Her sobs grew louder, the guilt she’d bottled up for so long finally pouring out.

Dain cupped her face, forcing Y/N to meet her eyes. "Listen to me. You are not a bad person. You love your family, but you struggle to show it, and that’s okay. It doesn’t make you any less deserving of their love."

"But what if I fail again?" Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Dain’s heart ached for her friend. She gently stroked Y/N’s hair, her voice soft and soothing. "Failure doesn’t define you, Y/N. And no matter what happens, your family and I—we’ll always be here for you."

The words struck a chord deep in Y/N’s heart, but the tears kept falling.

"Come on," Dain said, helping her lie down. "You need to rest. Cry if you need to, but don’t let this guilt take over. Tomorrow is a new day."

Y/N clung to Dain’s hand, her tears soaking the pillow beneath her. Dain stayed with her, refusing to leave her side.

As the night deepened, Y/N’s cries softened into quiet sniffles. Dain stayed beside her, her hand tightly holding Y/N’s, silently vowing to always be there for her friend.

Morning:

Y/N was still in a deep sleep. The tears from the night before still clung to her face like remnants of a storm. Suddenly, a forceful shake woke her up. "Get up!"

Y/N groggily opened her eyes, only to see Dain standing above her. She closed her eyes again and turned over, clearly not ready to face the day.

Dain wasn’t letting her off so easily. "Oh, how much sleep do you need? Look at this email."

Y/N’s ears perked up at the mention of the mail. She sat up quickly, her heart skipping a beat.

"Whose?" Y/N reached for Dain's phone.

After reading the email, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Without thinking, she threw the phone onto the bed and jumped up, almost knocking Dain over with excitement.

"I got selected, Dain! Finally!" Her joy was contagious, and she couldn’t stop herself from moving around the room, her laughter filling the air.

Dain laughed, but she had to hold onto the bedframe to steady herself. "Y/N, I’m getting dizzy. Calm down!"

Y/N finally stopped, her happiness spilling over as she collapsed next to Dain on the bed.

"I’m sorry, I just… I can’t believe it. I actually got selected!"

Dain smiled at her, eyes twinkling with pride. "I told you, you’d get in. I knew it."

But suddenly, Y/N’s expression changed. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, and her face paled. She sat back up, her joy turning into doubt and disappointment.

Y/n: "I won’t go, Dain. I’ll return back to my home."

Her words were firm, yet her trembling hands betrayed her.

Dain: "What happened?"

Y/n: "That man, Dain... why would he have selected me? To take revenge on me?"

Her heart raced as she spoke. The memory of her bold confrontation with the man during the interview replayed in her mind like a broken reel. Why would someone she had scolded so openly and without hesitation choose her for the position? It felt almost absurd, like walking into a trap.

Dain frowned, her concern softening her voice. "Hey, I told you last night — practical test. And you also gave a very good oral interview. That’s why they selected you."

But even with Dain’s reassurance, Y/n’s fear lingered. The shadows of her past doubts and insecurities loomed large, intertwining with the present. What if her selection wasn’t about her skills at all?

Y/n: "But Dain, what if he troubles me there? I mean... you can’t trust someone who behaves like that during a first meeting!"

Her voice cracked slightly, her fear manifesting in her words. She tried to suppress it, but the unease clawed at her.

Dain shook her head firmly. "This won’t happen. You told me that when he was working, he behaved like a complete professional. He behaves like this only outside."

Y/n hesitated. That much was true. She remembered his demeanor shifting the moment they were in the interview room — his teasing smirk replaced by a composed professionalism. But was that enough to trust him?

Her thoughts flickered back to something she’d overheard. Her expression shifted as a memory surfaced.

Y/n: "I remember... coming back from the interview, there were two girls talking about how big companies hire experts to conduct interviews."

Dain nodded, her tone optimistic. "Yeah, so what’s the problem? If they’re experts, then there’s no way anything bad will happen."

But Y/n’s thoughts weren’t so easily swayed. What if he wasn’t an expert? What if this was all personal, some twisted attempt to teach her a lesson for daring to stand up to him? Her mind replayed his smirk, the way his deep voice had teased her, the glint in his eyes that unsettled her in ways she didn’t want to admit. She clenched her fists, annoyed at how vividly she remembered it all. Why couldn’t she just let it go?

"But..."

Dain interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "No buts. Now don’t think negative. You’ve been selected. You have to join training from tomorrow. Just focus on that."

Dain’s words offered a sliver of comfort, a reminder to stay grounded. Y/n sighed, nodding slightly, though the storm of doubt still churned inside her. She wanted to believe in her abilities, to trust that this was about her potential and not some hidden agenda.

And yet, the memory of his piercing gaze refused to leave her. She hated how vividly she could picture his face — the way his presence had left her flustered and questioning herself.

Dain clapped her hands, breaking the silence and Y/n’s train of thought. "Oh, leave all this now. Let’s go — we have to get your phone. Tomorrow, when you go to the office, you’ll need it."

Y/n brows furrowed, her heart whispering questions she didn’t want to hear. Was she afraid of the man... or of what she might discover about herself? But forced herself to focus on the moment. "Okay, okay. Let’s go."

Still Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was on the brink of change — one she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Her first day :

The cabin was alive with a quiet hum of activity. A handful of people were stationed at their desks, eyes glued to their screens or bent over paperwork. This was the R&D department of Lara Company—a place that exuded efficiency and precision.

Y/n stepped in, her navy-blue shirt neatly tucked into a grey formal skirt, her half-tied hair brushing her back. Normally, courage defined her. But today was different. It was her first day, and her confidence was wrapped in a veil of hesitation. Excitement coursed through her veins, but so did the faint sting of nervousness.

Her eyes roamed the cabin, and her breath hitched. It was stunning. Everything about the place was crafted to perfection—the sleek desks, the soft ambient lighting, the carefully curated decor. It was the kind of office she had only seen in movies, the kind she had once dreamt of working in. So this is what it feels like, she thought, her heart swelling with pride.

But that pride was quickly shadowed by uncertainty. Everyone was engrossed in their tasks, and she didn’t know where to begin. Her gaze fell on a woman standing by a desk. Her demeanor seemed approachable—innocent, even. Y/n decided to ask for help.

"Hello," she said, her voice polite but warm, accompanied by a tentative smile. "My name is Seo Y/n. I'm the new employee."

The woman turned to her, her expression sharp and unimpressed. “Seventeen minutes late on your very first day?”

Y/n blinked, taken aback. She had not expected this curt tone. “I’m sorry," she started hesitantly. "This place is new for me, and I couldn’t find the cabin, so—"

Before she could finish, the woman interrupted, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "It’s strange, isn’t it? Someone selected for the R&D department... yet unable to find her way to her own cabin."

The words cut sharper than intended, layered with judgment hidden beneath a veil of politeness. Y/n’s cheeks flushed as she looked down, fiddling with her fingers. She wasn’t used to being belittled so casually, but the woman was right. I should’ve been more careful, she thought.

The woman’s voice softened, but the sting remained. “Well, what’s done is done. Sir must have had his reasons for selecting you. If it were up to me… Well, no point in discussing that now, is there? Your colleagues are over there.” She gestured toward a corner of the room. “Sir will come by soon to give instructions.”

“Thank you,” Y/n mumbled, forcing a polite nod before walking away. As soon as she turned, she exhaled shakily, placing a hand over her chest. Her heart was pounding. I shouldn’t have asked her. What was I thinking?

She glanced back briefly. The woman, as she would later learn—was already back to her work, radiating an air of authority that made Y/n wary.

Y/n approached the two other employees seated nearby—a boy and a girl. She hesitated but managed a small, nervous smile as she joined them.

“Hello,” the girl said cheerfully. “I’m Shin Hana.”

“And I’m Lee Yejoon,” the boy added, his tone friendly.

“Seo Y/n,” she replied, relief washing over her as she found herself in the company of kinder souls.

Hana leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “That’s Aera Kim" ponting at the woman who lectured y/n about being late."The most experienced person in our department. You can tell from her tone, right?”

Y/n forced a weak chuckle, still smarting from the encounter. “It’s… noticeable.”

Hana and Yejoon exchanged knowing looks before continuing their chatter. The two seemed to have hit it off before Y/n arrived, and their camaraderie was evident. Y/n, however, stayed quiet, feeling like a stranger in their dynamic.

But her silence wasn’t just shyness. Her thoughts were elsewhere, circling the lingering unease that had followed her into the office. That man—his face, his voice, the way his words had unsettled her.

She bit her lip, debating whether to speak up. Finally, unable to contain her curiosity, she asked, “Do either of you know who conducted the interviews that day?”

Yejoon shrugged. “I don’t know much, but I heard one of them is our department head.”

Y/n’s heart sank. Her throat tightened as she struggled to keep her expression neutral. “And… was there anything, um, unusual about the interview?” she ventured.

Hana tilted her head. “Unusual? Like what?”

Y/n’s stomach churned. Their confusion was answer enough. There had been no “practical test” for them.

She offered a weak smile, brushing it off as a silly question, but the weight in her chest grew heavier. He didn’t do it with them. Just me. But why?

Her mind raced, replaying fragments of that day—the intensity in his eyes, the flirtation veiled in his tone. Her insecurities clawed at her, filling the gaps with worst-case scenarios. Was it revenge? A test? A game?

Her colleagues went back to their conversation, unaware of the storm brewing in her thoughts. Y/n sat in silence, clutching the edge of her seat. Please let the second interviewer be the head, she prayed.

Because if it wasn’t, then it had to be him. And Y/n wasn’t sure she was ready for what that would mean.

After what felt like an eternity, a peon finally appeared and gestured towards the three of them. "Sir is calling you in thier cabin," he announced curtly.

Yejoon stretched his arms and groaned. “Huh, finally! I was tired of sitting for 40 minutes.”

Y/n’s eyes widened at his words. Forty minutes? She blinked, her heart sinking a little. She’d thought she was late by a significant margin, yet here were two colleagues who had been waiting long before her. So much for thinking I had a perfect start. The weight of her inadequacy pressed down further. She resolved silently that if she wanted to make a name for herself here, she would have to work twice as hard as the others.

As they walked towards the head’s cabin, Yejoon’s playful voice broke the tension. “You know, this isn’t fair. Y/n gets scolded for being 15–20 minutes late, but our head keeps us waiting for 40 minutes? Talk about double standards.”

His words struck a chord with Y/n. She glanced at him, her thoughts churning. He’s right. The irony was not lost on her. How could someone demand punctuality from employees yet fail to exhibit the same?

But Hana, ever pragmatic, hushed him. “He’s our head, Yejoon. Don’t dig a hole for yourself on the very first day. If someone overhears and decides to gossip, we could all be out of a job before lunch.”

Y/n silently agreed. Hana’s right. Knowing my luck, I’d probably be the one blamed even if I didn’t say a word.

“Yeah, yeah, point taken,” Yejoon said, waving it off. He changed the subject, his tone light. “Anyway, isn’t this building incredible? Everything’s so modern.”

Hana nodded enthusiastically. “It is! And to think, we’re actually going to work here. Feels unreal.”

The two chattered on, their excitement palpable. Y/n, however, trailed behind them, her unease mounting with every step. Their voices faded into background noise as her thoughts consumed her.

What if it’s him?

Her heart raced at the very idea. She had been trying to convince herself all morning that the odds were slim. He wouldn’t be here. It’s just a coincidence. There are plenty of heads in a company this size.

But no amount of reasoning could calm the storm inside her. Her hands were clammy, and her breath felt shallow. Every step towards the cabin felt heavier, as if the universe was dragging her toward something inevitable.

When they finally stopped in front of the cabin door, Y/n’s pulse quickened.

“May we come in, sir?” Hana asked, her voice steady.

A firm, authoritative voice answered from within. “Yes.”

Hana pushed open the door, and they stepped inside.

The moment Y/n’s eyes landed on the figure seated behind the polished desk, her world tilted.

It was him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Her breath hitched, her legs trembling as she froze in place. It felt as though the ground had disappeared beneath her feet, leaving her suspended in a whirlwind of emotions—fear, shock, disbelief. Her worst fear had materialized before her, as vivid and unavoidable as the man sitting confidently in the chair.

His presence was magnetic, commanding the room with an air of dominance. He exuded authority effortlessly, his piercing gaze fixed on the documents in his hand.

But it wasn’t just the realization that unsettled her—it was him. The man she had clashed with during the interview. The man who had lingered in her thoughts, his smirk, his voice, his aura.

She wanted to disappear. Before she knew it, she had instinctively stepped behind Hana and Yejoon, using them as a shield, as if hiding could erase her existence from his notice.

Jungkook’s deep voice broke through her panic. “Who is this behind you two?”

Y/n stiffened, her heart pounding in her chest. His tone was calm, but it carried a sharp edge of curiosity. According to his records, there should only be two new recruits reporting to him. So who was the third?

Flashback:

Jungkook entered the office in a sleek black suit that clung to his frame like it was tailored to perfection. His presence was magnetic, every step exuding quiet power. There wasn’t a single flaw in his appearance; his sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and confident stride commanded attention effortlessly. Yet, despite his outward perfection, his mind was clouded.

His expression was unreadable as he approached the R&D department's cabin. The cold indifference on his face masked the turmoil underneath, his emotions buried beneath a mountain of pride and regret.

He paused at the entrance, his gaze scanning the room. His eyes moved methodically, searching for a face he wasn’t even sure he wanted to see. The faces of the employees blurred together—none of them hers. His chest tightened. She didn’t come.

Jungkook didn’t step fully into the cabin. Instead, he lingered at the door, his gaze lingering as if hoping for a miracle, for her to suddenly appear. He told himself he was being irrational, that it didn’t matter. But no amount of logic could silence the hollow ache forming in his chest.

His voice, low and steady, carried none of the disappointment brewing within him as he spoke to the peon standing nearby. “Send the new employees to my cabin.”

As the peon nodded and turned to leave, Jungkook hesitated. A part of him, the part he didn’t want to admit existed, clung to the last thread of hope. He tried to hold back the question, but it escaped anyway, betraying his composed exterior.

“Is everyone present?”

The peon glanced at him apologetically. “No, sir. It seems one candidate didn’t show up.”

Jungkook’s heart sank at the words. He stiffened, his expression betraying nothing, but inside, the hollow ache grew deeper. That absent candidate must be y/n.- he thought.

“Okay,” he said curtly, dismissing the peon with a nod. His voice didn’t falter, but his mind screamed in protest.

As the peon disappeared into the cabin. Y/n was late so the peon don't know about her arrival.

Jungkook turned on his heel and headed back toward his own office. Each step felt heavier than the last. She didn’t come.

The words echoed in his mind, relentless and sharp. His jaw tightened as his thoughts spiraled. Why wouldn’t she come? Was it because of me? He didn’t want to believe that he could affect someone so strongly. But the memory of her fiery eyes and the sharpness in her voice during the interview told him otherwise.

Taehyung’s words from earlier came rushing back, taunting him: “You really messed this one up, didn’t you? Sometimes pride can destroy more than just reputations, Jungkook.”

Jungkook let out a low, frustrated sigh. He’s right. I ruined it. I ruined everything. He had handled the interview with arrogance, letting his ego dictate his actions. And now, it seemed he’d driven her away.

A pang of sadness hit him unexpectedly. It wasn’t just guilt or regret—it was the strange, unshakable feeling that he had lost something he didn’t even realize he wanted.

He didn’t know why, but he’d been looking forward to seeing her again. Her presence had lingered in his mind since the day of the interview, her boldness, her fire. The way she’d stood her ground against him without flinching. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to see her again—until now.

Jungkook closed the door to his cabin behind him, the click of the latch echoing in the silence. He stood still for a moment, staring at the polished desk in front of him, the weight of his regret pressing down on him.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow exhale. I was foolish to think she’d want to work here after how I acted. I scared her off. His gaze dropped to the floor, the tension in his shoulders betraying the emotions he tried so hard to suppress.

“Don’t know when… or where…” he murmured under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

He clenched his fists, closing his eyes briefly. He could still picture her face, the spark in her eyes. He had thought it was annoyance that day, but now he realized it was something more—strength, resilience.

Will I ever see her again? The question hung in the air, unanswered and suffocating.

He wanted to believe that fate would bring her back to him. But for now, all he could do was regret and hope.

With a heavy sigh, Jungkook moved to sit at his desk, but even the familiar comfort of his surroundings felt empty. He stared out the window, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest of his chair.

Please… let that day come soon.

Present:

Her mind raced. Why didn’t they tell him about me? Does he even know I was hired?

The implications sent a chill down her spine. What if he thinks I manipulated my way here? What if he thinks I came here to provoke him? Her chest tightened at the thought of his reaction. She clenched her fists to steady herself, but her palms were damp with sweat.

“Step forward,” Jungkook said, his tone neutral but firm, his eyes lifting from the papers.

Y/n didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her legs felt like lead, and her throat was too dry to speak. She remained hidden, her mind screaming at her to think of an excuse, something, anything, to explain her presence.

" I said step forward." Jungkook added, his voice lower now, carrying an unmistakable authority.

Her breath hitched, and panic gripped her chest. There’s no escaping this.

Hana and Yejoon made a space between to come y/n forward. Her figure was timid, unsure, her eyes carefully avoiding his as if trying to remain unnoticed. And yet, it was all he could focus on. Seo Y/n.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he studied her. Recognition flickered in his eyes, but it was faint, uncertain. Has she really come?