" 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. The very name sparked something inside him. His mind involuntarily recalled the brief moments from their earlier encounter—the way she had avoided looking at him, the way her face flushed, her reactions that had felt so real, so raw.

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

Because according to him there was only two freshers who are present today's.

But now, seeing her before him, even just a few feet away, it was as if the space between them pulsed with a kind of tension. The silence stretched too long, too awkwardly. Jungkook’s gaze flickered, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Y/n felt the weight of his gaze, her own thoughts spiraling. What does he remember? Does he know?

The air in the room grew heavy as an unspoken tension settled between them, a connection neither of them understood but couldn’t ignore.

The moment he had been waiting for since the morning: seeing her.

The shift in his expression was instantaneous. His face, which had been neutral just moments ago, softened slightly. A quiet relief flickered in his eyes, followed by something far more complicated—an unfamiliar warmth. She was real. She was here. He hadn't imagined it. The thought of her not showing up earlier today had gnawed at him longer than he would admit. But seeing her now, alive, breathing, his heart steadied.

"Ms. Seo," his voice broke the silence, smooth and commanding, the words intentional. “Step forward.”

His words were simple. A command, yes, but one that spoke volumes to him. His eyes didn't leave hers, watching her carefully as she hesitated.

She was hoping to disappear, to remain out of his sight.But he wouldn't let that happen. Not today. Not when she had finally shown herself.

He leaned slightly forward in his chair, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. In his heart, a slight irritation flickered—why was she hiding? Hadn’t they crossed that line already? Didn’t she understand how much he wanted her to step forward?

“Step forward, Ms. Seo,” Jungkook repeated, his voice not harsh, but there was a firm edge to it, as if he was finally calling for the thing that had been missing since she had walked in—her presence.

Y/n hesitated for just a second longer before slowly, carefully, stepping into the light. Her body stiffened, her movements hesitant, unsure.He could tell she was scared. Of him? Or was it the weight of the situation? Or was it simply that she still couldn’t believe she was standing here, in front of him?

Her expression flickered with a mix of emotions—confusion, discomfort, and something else, something he couldn't quite place. But that wasn't enough for him. He needed her to be more. He needed her to show herself.

And she did.

For a split second, their eyes locked. Jungkook was suddenly aware of how his heart beat a little faster. Y/n’s breath seemed to catch, and in that instant, everything between them shifted.

But then, reality kicked in. He straightened up in his chair, clearing his throat, breaking the tension. The smile that had been teasing the corners of his lips was gone, replaced by something neutral—something that hid his thoughts behind a veil.

Y/n still hadn’t fully stepped into the room. Her body was rigid, and he could tell she wanted to leave, to run, to escape this quiet yet undeniable pressure he was exerting. The space between them was charged. But he wouldn't allow her to slip away. Not yet.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Seo?" Jungkook’s voice was cool, yet there was an underlying curiosity in it. His eyes never left hers. “Are you afraid of something?”

Y/n didn’t answer immediately. She shifted, uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze again. He could see her shoulders tighten, her chest rise and fall rapidly. The space between them stretched farther than before.

She’s afraid, Jungkook thought, the realization coming to him suddenly. But why? Why was she so terrified of him?

He could have pushed further, prodded deeper into her mind, but something stopped him. He found himself… waiting.

The moment lingered, stretching between them like a thin thread. Would she break it? Or would he?

Jungkook’s gaze shifted from Yejoon and Hana to Y/n. As his eyes landed on her, a smile slowly crept across his face, though he quickly masked it. His usual professionalism returned, but a small flicker of something—something softer—shone through his otherwise composed expression.

"Good morning, sir," Yejoon and Hana both said in unison, their voices filled with politeness. They stood a little straighter, the greeting flowing naturally from them as they bowed in respect.

Jungkook nodded, a smile lingering at the edges of his lips. "Good morning," he replied warmly, his tone calm and polite, though his eyes betrayed a trace of something else—something that only Y/n could sense.

Then, his gaze turned back to Y/n, and the teasing undertone returned to his voice. "Ms. Seo, where are your manners?"

Y/n’s eyes widened, the words catching her completely off guard. She hadn't expected this, not at all. Her colleagues, Yejoon and Hana, subtly signaled to her to bow, prompting her to react quickly. She stiffened and, without another thought, bowed slightly, managing to force out a greeting.

"Sorry, sir. Good morning," she said, her voice softer than usual, the embarrassment rising inside her like a thick fog.

Jungkook couldn’t hide the amusement that flickered in his eyes as he watched her reaction. Her discomfort was clear, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he found himself enjoying it—more than he should.

"Anyways," he continued, changing the subject as if nothing had happened. "Today is your first day, so I want you all to work here with full loyalty and full passion." His eyes briefly met hers again, and for a moment, there was an unspoken challenge in that look. Something that made her stomach churn with unease.

Y/n could feel the intensity of his gaze, her own eyes burning with quiet defiance, though she didn't speak. She was aware of every little detail—his posture, the calm authority in his voice, and yet the almost hidden amusement in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher.

"Best of luck, guys, for your future in this company," Jungkook finished, his tone firm, yet somehow more relaxed.

Yejoon and Hana both said, "Thank you, sir," in unison, as they quickly moved toward the door. Y/n, eager to leave the tension behind, was the first to head out, her hand already on the door handle.

But just as she was about to step through the door, she heard Jungkook’s voice, sharp and commanding:

"Ms. Seo, wait. I want to talk with you."

The words froze her in place, her heart sinking into her stomach. It was happening again. The unease she had been trying to shake off returned, intensified. She could feel her pulse quicken, her mind racing. What did he want now?

Yejoon and Hana paused at the door, glancing back, their curiosity piqued. They were too polite to ask, but the questions hung in the air, unspoken. Why was Y/n being called back? What did Jungkook want from her?

Y/n slowly turned back, her footsteps heavy as she walked back into the room, her head lowered. She was trying to keep her face neutral, but inside, her mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest.

Jungkook’s eyes remained fixed on her, calm but assessing. He had stopped her for a reason, and whatever it was, she didn’t know if she was prepared for it.

Her body froze, her mind racing with panic. What now? What was he going to do? Every inch of her was telling her to leave—to run, to escape from whatever game he was playing—but her feet were rooted to the floor. She turned slowly, her face betraying none of the internal chaos she felt.

Jungkook, ever calm, watched her with those piercing eyes. He wasn’t in a rush. He was enjoying this. She could tell. He always did.

Her colleagues, Hana and Yejoon, had already left, leaving Y/n alone with him. The atmosphere in the room felt thick with unspoken tension. She forced a smile, but deep inside, she just wanted to disappear. The sheer weight of his gaze made her feel smaller than she ever had before.

“Close the door,” Jungkook said, his voice low but firm.

Y/n blinked, confused for a moment, and then quickly snapped into action. "What? Why? I mean... okay, sir." She closed the door behind her, and as she did, a flood of thoughts rushed through her mind. She hated the way he made her feel. He knew how to push her buttons. He wasn’t like the others. He had a way of twisting the smallest things into something larger, something that made her question herself.

But now, standing in front of him, a new wave of fear washed over her. The same man who had teased her earlier was now looking at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. She could feel the way his eyes traced her every movement, every breath she took.

Jungkook's eyes never leaving hers. It was unnerving. "Ms. Seo," he said, his voice smooth, almost casual, " How am I supposed to talk to you if you keep standing by the door like that?"

She was frozen in place, her mind too scrambled to respond. What did he want from her? Was he playing with her, like before?

Her eyes flickered to the door. Could she just leave? Pretend she didn’t hear him? But there was something about the way he looked at her, something magnetic that kept her rooted in that spot.

Reluctantly, she stepped closer to his desk. Jungkook watched her, his gaze never wavering. His presence was like a constant pressure against her chest, a reminder that she was no longer in control of the situation.

Before she could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

For a split second, relief flooded her. Maybe this was her chance to escape, to avoid whatever game Jungkook was playing this time. The knock sounded like an angel’s call, but when Jungkook’s voice interrupted, the angel’s wings vanished.

"Come in."

A peon entered, placing a coffee cup on Jungkook’s desk before quickly leaving.

Jungkook took sip of his coffee, his eyes still trained on her. "Ms. Seo," he said slowly, " Would you like some coffee?"

The question took her off guard. It was almost polite, almost... human. But it didn't add up. How could he go from calling her mannerless to offering her coffee? It didn’t make sense. He didn't make sense.

"No, no, sir," she replied, her voice betraying none of the internal conflict swirling inside her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at the absurdity of it all.

Jungkook smirked, as if he enjoyed the way she reacted. He took a sip, savoring it slowly, his eyes never leaving her. There was something about the way he drank his coffee, the deliberate slowness of it, that made Y/n’s heart skip a beat. Her mind screamed at her to look away, but her gaze was drawn to him against her will, to the way his lips wrapped around the rim of the cup. Her chest tightened, an unfamiliar heat spreading through her. There was some desire sparkling in her eyes.

What was wrong with her?

Jungkook lowered the cup, his gaze still fixed on her. "Ms. Seo?" His voice was soft, teasing, but it carried an edge. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Y/n’s eyes widened, and she quickly lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I didn’t mean it, sir," she muttered, cursing herself silently. How could she let him get to her like this? He was messing with her mind again.

Jungkook’s smirk only deepened, and there was something in his eyes—something dangerous. "Oh, I think you did," he said, leaning forward just slightly. "You said something similar to me the other day, didn’t you?"

Y/n’s eyes snapped to his, startled by his words. He was bringing up that day—the day he blamed him to flirting with her-the day she’d let slip that she didn’t trust him, the day she’d been angry, the day he’d caught her off guard. He was enjoying this. Every bit of it.

Anger flared in her chest. She had to control herself, had to stay calm. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was getting under her skin.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asked, her voice sharp, cutting through the silence. She just wanted to leave from his sight as soon as possible because the way he was looking at her was making her heart heavy.

Jungkook studied her for a moment, as though trying to decipher her every thought. He could tell she was frustrated, angry even, and it was making him enjoy this conversation more than he should have. There was something intoxicating about the way she tried to hide her emotions.

“I forgot Ms. Seo because of you.” he said casually, his voice dropping just low enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Because of her? How ? She didn't even do anything. The question was clearly appearing in her eyes.

" The way you looked at me , I forgot" he was enjoying every second with her. The way her expression change, how her eyes sparked, he was enjoying.

Her heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment, everything inside her screamed to run. But she stood still. Her mind raced. What was he trying to do with her? Was this some sick game?

“If I remember, I’ll call you again,” Jungkook continued, his tone almost playful now. "But for now, you may leave."

Y/n didn’t wait for him to finish. As soon as the words left his mouth, she turned and rushed to the door. She didn’t care that he was watching her. She didn’t care about anything except getting away from the suffocating presence he created.

She slammed the door behind her, not daring to look back.

Jungkook was giggling at her cuteness and rush in her steps,“Oh my god, why are you so cute, Y/n?”

Y/n returned to her desk, her breath uneven and her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the armrests of her chair. Her face was flushed, and her heart still raced from the intense encounter with Jungkook.

Hana immediately noticed her state and slid a bottle of water toward her. “What happened? Why did you come running?” she asked, her brows furrowing in concern.

Y/n hesitated, the memory of Jungkook’s piercing gaze still vivid in her mind. There was no way she could tell them the truth.

“I... saw a cockroach,” she blurted out, forcing a nervous laugh. “That’s why I ran.”

Hana blinked, clearly surprised. “A cockroach? In such a big company?”

“Yeah,” Y/n said quickly, nodding, her smile awkward and forced. She avoided Hana’s curious gaze, her eyes darting to her desk in search of a distraction.

Yejoon, who had been quietly observing, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “A cockroach scared you that much? Seems a little dramatic,” he teased, his tone light but probing.

Y/n tried not to roll her eyes. She didn’t need his commentary right now. “Well, I don’t like cockroaches,” she said simply, taking a sip of water to buy herself some time.

But Hana wasn’t convinced. Her curiosity got the better of her. “Why did sir keep you in his cabin, though?” she asked, her tone lowering as if sharing a secret. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, clearly eager for some gossip.

Y/n froze for a moment, gripping the water bottle tightly. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for an answer. Lying didn’t come naturally to her, but what else could she do? If they found out what really happened, she’d never hear the end of it.

“I... I got late today,” Y/n said, her voice hesitant but steady. “So he wanted to give me a warning.” Another lie. It seemed like today was the day she had to bury her honesty just to survive. She hated how her words tasted on her tongue, bitter and untrue.

Yejoon leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Did he scold you?” he asked, his tone bordering on overly familiar. His constant attention was starting to grate on Y/n, making her feel even more on edge.

“No, nothing like that,” she replied quickly, trying to brush off the question. “He just gave me a verbal warning, that’s all. Let’s focus on work now, or he’ll actually have a reason to scold me.”

Her attempt to change the subject worked, though not without a skeptical glance from Yejoon. “Alright,” he said, clearly still curious but willing to let it go—for now.

The three of them turned back to their tasks, the atmosphere settling into one of quiet concentration. But Y/n’s mind was far from settled. She could still feel the intensity of Jungkook’s eyes on her, the teasing edge to his voice, and the way her heart betrayed her every time he was near.

She sighed quietly, hoping the day would pass quickly, and that she’d be able to put this strange, nerve-wracking encounter behind her. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t the last time Jungkook would find a way to unnerve her.

*****

The air in the bustling café buzzed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the murmur of conversations. Amid the hum, a boy—no older than 22—stepped inside. His presence was quiet but commanding, the kind that pulled attention without effort. His sharp features were partially hidden beneath a cap, but his smirk was unmistakable. He approached the counter and stood still, his gaze scanning the space like he owned it.

Dain, busy organizing the bills, froze mid-motion when her eyes landed on him. Her heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned. “Yuseong?” she whispered, shock laced in her voice. It was as if a ghost from the past had materialized before her.

The name immediately caught her brother Dohyun’s attention. He turned, his sharp eyes narrowing as his face hardened with fury. His fists clenched instinctively, the restraint in his stance visibly cracking. Yet, mindful of the customers, he swallowed his anger, though his voice was menacingly low. “I told you never to come here again. Don’t test my patience, or you’ll regret standing here.”

But Yuseong remained unfazed, his smirk widening as he met Dohyun’s death glare. “Chill, brother,” he said nonchalantly, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m not here for trouble. Just wanted to see my love.” His eyes shifted toward Dain as if taunting her.

Dain’s expression stiffened, her shock quickly morphing into anger. She moved closer, lowering her voice so the nearby customers couldn’t hear. “Get out of here, now,” she hissed, her tone firm yet controlled.

Yuseong leaned casually against the counter, completely ignoring her warning. “Hey, hey, calm down,” he chuckled, raising his hands mockingly in surrender. “I’ll leave—just let me see her face once. Is she hiding? Or maybe...” He paused, his laughter turning maniacal. “Maybe she’s already run away. Again.”

Dohyun’s jaw tightened, the veins on his neck visible as he struggled to contain himself. The amused glint in Yuseong’s eyes only fueled his rage.

“You don’t need to know where she is,” Dain interjected, her voice low but steady, a protective edge to her words. “So leave. Now.”

The customers were beginning to take notice, their murmurs growing louder. A couple seated near the counter glanced over, trying to piece together the brewing tension. Yuseong, however, was the least concerned. He thrived on the chaos.

“Why so secretive, Dain?” he teased, leaning forward. “You guys didn’t leave her, right? Don’t do that. How will she survive in this big, bad city without you? Poor girl...” His words dripped with malice, each one calculated to provoke.

That was the last straw. In a blur, Dohyun lunged at Yuseong, his hand fisting the younger boy’s collar. Gasps erupted from the café as Dohyun dragged him out, ignoring the startled glances and hushed whispers of onlookers.

Once outside, Dohyun slammed Yuseong against the wall, his face inches away from his. His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the kind that sent shivers down spines. “If I see you near this café again, you’ll remember what I did to you last time—and I promise, it’ll be worse.”

But Yuseong wasn’t intimidated. If anything, his smirk deepened, his dark eyes glittering with twisted amusement. “I didn’t come here to fight, Dohyun,” he drawled, brushing off the invisible dust from his shirt as Dohyun released him. “Just couldn’t resist a little visit.”

Dain appeared behind her brother, her tone urgent. “Dohyun, stop. People are watching.”

Dohyun turned to see a small crowd gathered inside, some peering out through the glass windows. He glared at Yuseong one last time. “Get lost,” he spat.

Yuseong straightened his shirt with exaggerated nonchalance, taking his time as if to assert he wasn’t bothered by the threat. “How can I stop coming here so easily?” he muttered under his breath, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “My life come here often.”

He took a step back, brushing imaginary dust from his shoes, and added in a soft, almost taunting voice, “I couldn’t see her today, but I’ll be back. And I won’t stop until I do.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Dohyun fuming and Dain clutching her brother’s arm to calm him. The café doors swung shut, but the tension lingered, the mystery of Yuseong’s words hanging in the air like an unspoken threat.

*****

Hana checked her watch, her foot tapping impatiently. “Where is Yejoon? I’m getting late. I have a family dinner to attend.”

Y/n tilted her head, curious. “Family dinner? Any special day?”

Hana’s face lit up. “Yes! To celebrate my selection in this big company. My dad promised me that if I got selected, we’d go out for a nice dinner. He’s always been my biggest cheerleader.”

Y/n smiled warmly, though something inside her stirred. She thought about her own father—the way he had expressed joy and pride when she told him she was going for the interview. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she should call him to share her achievement, to hear his voice, to feel that same pride once more.

Yejoon’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he arrived, huffing slightly from rushing. “I’m sorry! Let’s go.”

Hana shook her head but smiled. “It’s okay. Let’s hurry, though. I can’t be late for this dinner.”

Y/n chimed in, “You both go ahead. I have something to finish up here.”

Hana hesitated but nodded. “Alright. Don’t stay too late, okay?”

Yejoon waved at Y/n as they walked out together. “See you tomorrow, Y/n!”

Y/n watched them leave, their voices fading into the evening air. Hana seemed genuinely happy, her bond with her family shining through her words. Yejoon’s casual ease and close companionship with Hana reminded Y/n of a closeness she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Once they were out of sight, Y/n reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. It was time to take that step she had been avoiding for so long.

Y/n gripped her phone tightly, her heart pounding. For a moment, she hesitated, the dial tone echoing in her ears. Then, a familiar voice answered.

“Hello, Dad?” Her voice trembled slightly, but there was an unmistakable excitement dancing in her tone.

There was a pause before her father responded. “Yes, my daughter? Is everything fine?”

Y/n smiled to herself, her emotions surging. “I’m fine... I... I got selected, Dad.”

The words hung in the air, carrying all her effort and pride. She waited, her ears straining for his reaction. The silence on the other end made her heart race. Had he not heard her? Or was there another reason?

“Dad?” she asked again, cautiously.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” her father replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I got a little... choked up for a moment. My little girl, you’ve done it.” His voice wavered as he continued, full of love, pride. “You tried so hard, and you finally achieved your goal. I’m so proud of you, my child.”

Those words—I’m proud of you. They pierced through Y/n’s heart, unraveling a wave of emotions she had been holding back for years. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks as her grip on the phone tightened. Her lips trembled, her breath catching in her throat.

“Dad... it’s just the beginning. I’ll work even harder to become better, to make you more proud on your little daughter.” she whispered, her voice trembling with determination.

Her father chuckled softly, though the emotion in his voice hadn’t eased. “I have no doubt you will, sweetheart. Your mom will be so happy to hear this news. It would mean a lot if you called her to tell her yourself.”

The warmth in her chest began to cool at his words, replaced by a sharp pang. Her smile faltered as old wounds reopened. Her grip on the phone loosened slightly, and her gaze fell to the floor.

Flashback

Eighteen-year-old Y/n was laughing as her pet dog dashed around the living room, chasing its tail in pure joy. Her father had been the only one to support her decision to keep a dog—her mother had been firmly against it from the start, calling it a nuisance. But today, it felt like she had won a small battle, her father’s approval giving her the courage to hold her ground.

“Y/n, can you help me with this homework?” her younger brother, San, interrupted.

She turned toward him, her smile softening. “Of course. What’s the problem?”

Although Y/n wasn’t particularly good at academics, barely scraping by in her own exams, she always did her best to help her brother. His admiration for her made her feel capable in ways she rarely did.

As they worked together, San spotted a ball on the sofa and tossed it absentmindedly toward the kitchen. He didn’t think much of it—just a playful gesture—but the dog immediately bolted after it.

The sound of chaos erupted. Pots clanged, bowls shattered, and the once-pristine kitchen turned into a battlefield.

Y/n’s mother, already frazzled, stormed out of the kitchen, her face a thundercloud of anger. “What is this?!” she shouted. “This dog has ruined the kitchen! I told you we didn’t need one in the first place!”

Y/n froze, guilt washing over her as the dog cowered behind her. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she murmured, her voice trembling.

“Sorry?” Her mother’s tone sharpened like a blade. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything, Y/n! You’re eighteen now, but you’re still as useless as ever. You can’t handle this dog, and you certainly can’t handle your life!”

Her words struck like thunder, echoing in the silence that followed.

“You’ve grown so much, yet you’ve learned nothing! You don’t help with household chores, you barely pass your exams because your father own school, and you waste your father’s money on tuition for grades you don’t deserve. What exactly are you doing with your life?”

Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes, but she didn’t dare look up. Her mother wasn’t finished.

“Look at your brother! He’s younger than you, but he’s so much better—smarter, more responsible. And you? You’ve never given us a reason to be proud. It’s like a dream I know will never come true—to say, *‘Y/n, we’re proud of you.’”

The words hit like arrows, piercing Y/n’s heart in ways she hadn’t thought possible. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.

Her mother’s anger, fueled by frustration, spilled over like a flood. “You’re just a spoiled child who thinks life will always hand her everything on a silver platter because of her father. But let me tell you, Y/n, the real world isn’t like that. You’ll fail, just like you’ve always failed.”

Y/n’s legs felt weak, her chest tightening as the tears fell freely now. She clutched the edge of the sofa, willing herself to stay upright.

Her mother’s voice softened only slightly, but the disappointment was still there. “If you don’t change, you’ll never amount to anything, Y/n. You’ll always be a burden.”

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word, she turned and fled to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She collapsed onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow as her mother’s words played on an endless loop in her mind.

"You’ll never make us proud."

She wanted to scream, to tell her mother that she wasn’t useless, that she was trying—she really was. But she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, and even if they did, she wasn’t sure her mother would hear them.

That night, as the tears dried and the room grew silent, something inside Y/n shifted. The sting of her mother’s words didn’t fade; instead, it hardened into resolve.

"I’ll prove her wrong," she whispered into the darkness. "I’ll show her I’m worth something."

A year later, Y/n left her home with nothing but a suitcase and a determination born of pain. She taught herself to cook, to live independently, and to work harder than she ever had before.

But she also learned how to lock her heart away.

The once-open and carefree Y/n became guarded, keeping her struggles to herself. She didn’t want to share her pain with her family—not because she didn’t love them, but because she didn’t want to risk hearing those words again.

Her mother’s disappointment had become the fuel for her success. But it had also left scars—deep, invisible scars that she carried with her wherever she went.

Present

“Dad, you know I won’t,” she said quietly, her voice a mix of hurt and defiance.

Her father hesitated. “I know… I know, my dear. But it’s been so long. Maybe it’s time...”

Her throat tightened as bitter memories surged to the surface. Her mother’s harsh words, her dismissive attitude, the constant comparisons that made her feel like she was never enough.

Y/n’s voice hardened, masking the ache within. “Tell her for me, Dad. Tell her that her ‘useless daughter’ proved she was worth something after all. That she wasn’t a mistake. Maybe then she’ll believe it. Tell her, she was trying but this world wasn't giving her chance. But now...... now I got that chance and I will do my best.”

Her father sighed deeply, his heart aching for his daughter. He wanted to say more, to mend the broken bond between them, but he knew pushing further might shatter the fragile joy in her voice.

“Alright, my little fighter. I’ll tell her. But know this—you were never useless in my eyes. You’ve always been extraordinary, and I’ll always be proud of you.”

Tears welled up again in Y/n’s eyes, but this time, a small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you, Dad... for always believing in me.”

“She missed you, you know,” he said softly. “She didn’t know how to say it, but she did.”

Her breath caught, the knot in her chest tightening. Missed her? The woman who’d looked at her like she was a disappointment, a mistake? The tears came suddenly, a flood she couldn’t control, spilling over as she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Dad…” she whispered, her voice trembling. She couldn’t say more, couldn’t bring herself to put into words the tangle of emotions—the anger, the hurt, the longing she hadn’t let herself feel until now. All she could do was sit there, letting the years of silence and bitterness wash away in a tide of tears.

The pain of feeling so small, so wrong, as if she were nothing but a failure who didn’t belong. She remembered the way she’d packed her things, slammed the door, and promised herself she’d prove her mother wrong. And since that day, silence had filled the space between them like an ocean she couldn’t cross.

But now, as her father’s voice droned on about how her mother had missed her, how she had sometimes even asked about her—carefully, hesitantly—something inside her began to crack. She felt a tightness in her chest, an ache she’d locked away years ago. And before she could hold it back, the tears spilled over, hot and unbidden, blurring the phone screen in her hand.

Her father paused, his tone shifting. “Are you… alright?” he asked softly, his voice filled with the concern she’d tried so hard to avoid.

She wanted to answer, but the words caught in her throat. All the things she’d been too proud to admit, all the resentment she’d hidden behind her independence, came crashing down at once. She’d pushed her mother away, distanced herself to keep the pain at bay. And now, she was left holding only the memories, sharper and more painful than ever.

After a moment, she swallowed, forcing herself to speak. “I’m fine,” she whispered, barely holding her voice steady. But the truth was, she wasn’t fine. She missed her mother—missed her so much it hurt. And even as the tears kept falling, she found herself longing for the chance to tell her.

As the call ended, Y/n sat in the quiet of the office, holding her phone close. A storm of emotions raged within her—pride, pain, and longing. The approval she had yearned for was hers, yet the emptiness from her fractured relationship with her mother lingered, a shadow over her heart.

Y/n sat there on the cold, hard bench, her body stiff with the weight of her emotions. Time seemed to drag on, as if the world around her had frozen, leaving her in a void where only the sharp sting of her own thoughts echoed in her mind. The tears she had fought so hard to hold back earlier now slipped freely down her cheeks, unnoticed by anyone except herself. She had been crying from the inside for so long that it had become second nature—suffocating, yet comforting in its familiarity. The ache in her chest wouldn't stop, the heavy, suffocating feeling of loneliness and regret swallowing her whole.

She missed them. Her family. The warmth of her father's voice when he used to praise her for the smallest of accomplishments, the way her mother used to smile at her, even when things were hard. She longed for those moments when everything felt simple and safe, when their voices filled the house with love and warmth. But now, it all felt like a distant memory, a dream she could no longer reach. How long had it been since she'd gone home? Weeks? Months? She barely remembered. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet it felt like yesterday.

Her heart trembled with the urge to reach out, to call them, to hear their voices again, to feel the familiar embrace of her mother's arms. But there was something inside her that stopped her, a wall she had built too high to climb over. The same wall her mother's words had constructed long ago, words that had shattered her confidence, words that made her feel like she was never enough. "Sorry?, keep it with you ,You will need it in future," her mother's harsh tone still echoed in her mind. And every time she tried to go back, every time she thought of reaching out, those words stopped her, like an invisible barrier she couldn’t cross.

She wanted to be strong, to prove herself. But every step away from them felt like a betrayal. Was she really that different from the person they had hoped she'd become? The tears continued to fall silently, her sobs too quiet for anyone to hear, as if she didn’t deserve to be heard at all.

****

The office was quiet, the only sound being the rustling of papers and the soft click of keyboards as the day wound down. Jungkook leaned back in his chair, the weight of a long day's work settling into his bones. He glanced at the clock—late, but not quite enough to make him rush. He stood slowly, stretching his arms above his head, letting the tension ease from his shoulders.

His mind wandered to his plans for the evening, the routine that awaited him at home, but something caught his eye as he passed by the window.

A familiar figure, hunched over on the bench outside the office building. His heart stuttered for a moment. It was Y/n.

Her head was down, her body still, but he could see the faint tremor in her shoulders, even from this distance. She was crying.

Jungkook's heart tightened, a sharp ache blossoming deep in his chest. His feet froze on the spot. He had expected her to be the strong one, always composed, always with a quiet resilience. But now, seeing her so broken, something inside him shattered. She looked small, fragile in a way that made him feel almost protective, yet utterly helpless.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to go to her, to comfort her, to ease the pain he could see written in the way she held herself. But his feet were heavy, as though they were rooted to the floor by some invisible force.

She looked like she was glowing, her silhouette framed by the rays of the lights. But the image only made the sadness more vivid, as though the world itself was mourning with her. Jungkook swallowed hard, clenching his fist around the handle of the window blind.

He wanted to walk out there. He wanted to sit beside her, offer her a shoulder, ask her what was wrong. But what if she didn’t want him there? What if his presence only made things worse? The thought gnawed at him, a worry that wouldn’t let him move.

He went outside. His pulse quickened as he watched her wipe her face with trembling hands. He could almost hear her silent sobs, the weight of her grief pressing down on him from the other side of the glass. He wasn’t a man used to hesitation, but this... this felt different. The distance between them seemed insurmountable, even though they were separated by only a few feet. Boss and employee, he reminded himself, his jaw tightening. There’s a line here.

He pulled his gaze away from her for a moment, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hated this feeling. Hated that he couldn’t fix things for her, hated that she was alone out there while he sat inside, helpless. But maybe she didn’t want his help. Maybe this was something she had to face on her own.

But still, the ache in his chest wouldn’t fade. Her head was down, her shoulders hunched as she tried to compose herself. The sight of it was unbearable. His chest tightened with something between guilt and an unfamiliar longing.

Without another thought, he went to her. His footsteps were quiet, hesitant, but steady. He couldn’t pretend like he didn’t see the pain she was carrying.

When he reached at her, he hesitated for a moment. He didn’t know what he would say, didn’t know if it was even his place to say anything. But he couldn’t leave her like this. Not like this. He stood there, watching her for a moment longer, feeling a strange weight settle in his chest.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice low and careful, trying to keep it steady. “Is everything… alright?”

For a brief moment, Y/n’s shoulders stiffened. She didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. She just stayed there, her head down, her body trembling slightly.

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears, barely audible.

Jungkook felt his chest tighten, a wave of helplessness crashing over him. He wanted to ask again, wanted to press her for more, but the answer was clear in her posture, in the way she pulled further into herself. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to share whatever burden she was carrying.

He took a slow step forward, his heart racing in his chest. But he stopped himself, a thousand thoughts swirling through his mind. He was her boss. There was a line. Was it his place to push her? To demand answers?

His hand balled into a fist at his side. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words felt trapped in his throat. The barrier between them felt insurmountable, and his own vulnerability kept him rooted in place.

She wiped her eyes hastily, turning away from him, her body tense as if she couldn’t bear for him to see her like this.

Jungkook’s heart sank as he watched her walk away, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t look back. And just like that, she was gone.

He stood there for a long moment, the air around him thick with the weight of the unspoken. His mind raced with questions, regrets, and guilt. Should he have pressed her? Should he have stayed longer, said more? The silence felt deafening in the wake of her departure, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. She didn’t want him to help her, not right now. He had seen it in the way she turned away from him. But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest, the feeling that he had failed her in some way.

As he stood there, staring into the emptiness where she had been, he realized one thing. He couldn’t stay away. Not for long.