Chapter Text
If you could be kinder to meWe could hash it out and make it lighter, baby
I can be more than just a pretty thing
I can hash it out before another round, don’t you think?
Anticipate
Clairo-
Seulgi was torn.
Should she talk to Jaeyi?
After the way she left yesterday…
Did Jaeyi really mean what she said? Was she done now? Done trying?
Seulgi didn’t know what to feel about that.
She should be relieved. Shouldn’t she?
But instead, a strange unease curled in her gut—tight, persistent.
Maybe she’d been too harsh. Pushing Jaeyi away like that.
It wasn’t anything personal really. It was in her nature. It’s just who she was.
Growing up in an orphanage. Having to fight for scraps her whole life. Trust wasn’t something she had learned.
Trust was dangerous. It gave people power over you. And Seulgi had fought too hard to give that power to anyone again.
But jaeyi—she didn’t know any better. She hadn’t lived a life where trust could break you.
And Seulgi—she felt bad. For snapping at someone who might’ve only meant well.
She told herself it was to protect herself. That it was instinct. Survival.
But lately, she couldn’t help wondering:
Was she really protecting herself… or just pushing people away before they could leave?
The school felt quieter today. Or maybe that was just in Seulgi’s head.
The classrooms buzzed quietly, filled with scribbles and muttered formulas. Students were deep in prep mode—mock exams were looming like a shadow.
Jaeyi still sat beside her. Still poised. Still focused.
But different.
There was a distance now. She didn’t glance Seulgi’s way anymore, didn’t smirk, didn’t push.
It was… unsettling.
Seulgi wasn’t used to this version of Jaeyi.
The cold kind. The distant kind.
And she hated how much that bothered her.
Seulgi tried to focus on her work. But her mind remained elsewhere.
Seulgi skipped lunch.
It wasn’t smart—she hadn’t even had breakfast—but she needed the air more than she needed food.
She slipped out of the classroom before the bell and headed out.
The sun hit her hard as she stepped outside. Summer was already creeping in.
Seulgi walked on the the running track, heading for the back exit, slipping out unnoticed.
She headed for the convenience store just down the street.
Inside the store, she headed straight to the drinks section and grabbed an iced latte and after some thought a small sandwich—more out of obligation than hunger.
She paid without a word. The cashier didn’t bother to look up.
Outside, she sat under a tree near the curb. The branches above gave her shelter, and the wind played softly against her skin.
Seulgi took a grateful gulp of her coffee. She was halfway through her sandwich when suddenly—her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Seulgi picked up hesitantly.
“…Hello?”
“Woo Seulgi. You’re really hard to reach, you know.”
Her stomach twisted.
Of course.
Nam Byeongjin.
It was only a matter of time.
“Byeongjin,” she bit out, sharp, tight.
Her stomach churned. Bile rose up her throat.
He just knew how to find her. And now he was reaching out again—with more demands, no doubt. She already dreaded what dirty work of his she’d had to do.
“Your friend was really rude to me the other day.” He said lightly “It’d be better for you and her, if she stops interfering. You and I have some business to discuss anyways”
Her grip tightened on the phone.
“You don’t have to worry about her anymore. Just tell me what you want” she barked, bitterly.
“Ah—still so serious, Seulgi-ah,” he purred, mock affection coating every syllable. Seulgi gritted her teeth—she hated the way he said her name.
“There’s a debt to pay here, you’ll really have to work for it now. And try not to be so rude, I’d be careful if I were you”
Her jaw clenched.
She wanted to scream.
To throw the phone.
To disappear.
But she couldn’t.
Not yet.
She instead took a deep breath.
Byeongjin unbothered continued “Wait for me at the main entrance after school. I’ll be there to pick you up, don’t be late.”
And then—click.
The line went dead.
Seulgi stared at the phone in her hand, the blank screen somehow louder than the words still ringing in her ears.
A sudden dread pooled in her stomach.
Just like that, she was being pulled back into the same nightmare she thought she’d escaped.
Back to Gyungshin. Back to that life.
Only this time, it felt worse.
She had a sinking feeling in her gut—whatever was coming, it wasn’t something she’d walk away from easily.
And the worst part? She had no idea how to stop it.
Pushing herself up from the ground, she left her half-eaten food behind and headed back toward school.
Skipping wasn’t an option—not when the consequences could be worse.
Still, every step felt like walking through fog, her nerves frayed and alert.
She kept glancing over her shoulder, paranoia crawling across her skin like static—certain someone was watching.
She made it back just before the bell rang.
Sliding into her seat, she didn’t look at Jaeyi.
And Jaeyi didn’t ask where she’d been.
Seulgi didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
What a conundrum her thoughts were in— pulling in every direction.
Part of her wanted to talk. Really talk.
But the wall of pride she’d built wouldn’t let her reach out.
So she sat there, unraveling in silence, pretending she wasn’t.
Jaeyi had felt it the second Seulgi walked in.
Something was off. Way off.
She hadn’t asked though—not after Seulgi made it painfully clear she wanted to be left alone.
Still, now that they were sitting side by side again, Jaeyi couldn’t ignore it.
There was a heaviness around Seulgi. A storm she was trying to contain.
Jaeyi could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw, the way her eyes stayed fixed on her notebook but hadn’t moved in minutes.
Something had happened during break. That much was clear.
And whatever it was, it had shaken Seulgi enough to make her look… smaller.
Like she was bracing herself for impact, holding it all in by sheer will alone.
And Jaeyi hated it.
Hated that she didn’t know how to help.
Hated that she’d been told not to try.
The final bell rang, students spilling out into the hallways. Laughter, footsteps, the sound of chatter echoing in every direction.
Seulgi left in a hurry.
No glance back. Just her usual bag slung over her shoulder, and that distant look in her eyes again.
From across the classroom, Jaeyi rose silently, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt, and followed at a careful distance.
Seulgi could ignore her all she wanted, but Jaeyi wasn’t about to stop keeping an eye on her.
And now—there she was. Standing by the main gate. Alone. Unmoving.
Jaeyi frowned.
Something was off.
Seulgi waited by the gates, feet tapping, hands fumbling her phone, checking the time every other minute.
She was clearly waiting for something. Or someone.
The crowd of students thinned quickly. One by one, they trickled out until the gates stood nearly empty.
Only Seulgi remained.
And Jaeyi.
And then, a black car rolled in front of seulgi.
The window lowered—and Jaeyi’s breath got caught in her throat.
She’d recognise that repulsive face anywhere.
That same sleazy bastard from the other day—that creep who was all over Seulgi that day. And here she was now, getting inside his car?
Jaeyi couldn’t believe it.
Jaeyi’s heart twisted, confusion and fury flaring to life. But she didn’t wait to process it.
Her instincts kicked in.
She turned and rushed to her own car parked a few spots away. Climbing into the back seat, she leaned forward urgently.
“Follow the black Hyundai. Quietly,” she instructed.
Her driver nodded without hesitation and started the car.
Jaeyi didn’t know where they were going.
But where ever it was— couldn’t be any good.
Inside the car, with Byeongjin—Seulgi sat rigid in the passenger seat, eyes fixed straight ahead, hands clenched tight in her lap. She didn’t greet him. Didn’t speak.
The engine purred to life, and Byeongjin pulled away from the curb with practiced ease—one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily between them.
Silence stretched. Thick. Uncomfortable.
“Not even a hello?” he drawled, voice light but laced with mock offense.
Seulgi didn’t respond.
Her jaw clenched tighter.
Byeongjin sighed, dragging a slow breath through his nose. “Still so cold. You haven’t changed at all.”
He glanced at her sideways, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Except maybe a little prettier now. Chaehwa’s been good to you.”
She finally turned her head, eyes sharp. “What do you want, Byeongjin?”
He chuckled softly. “Straight to the point. That’s what I like about you, Seulgi-ah. You don’t waste time pretending.”
“Neither should you,” she snapped, low but firm.
Byeongjin only grinned wider. “Relax. You’re acting like I’m here to hurt you.”
“Aren’t you?”
There was a beat of silence.
Then he exhaled. “That depends on how well you behave.”
They were in a part of town Seulgi didn’t recognize—older buildings, narrow alleyways, neon signs that flickered even in daylight. A small, run-down café sat on the corner, half its windows boarded up. Next to it, an even worse-looking bar with a dented door and blacked-out glass.
The car came to a stop in front of it.
Byeongjin cut the engine, then looked over at her with a casual grin, as if they were just two old friends stopping for coffee.
“Get out.”
Seulgi’s hands didn’t move. Her fingers had gone numb.
“What are we doing here?” she asked quietly.
He leaned in slightly—she could smell the nicotine and cheap cologne on his breath. “Just a meeting. Five minutes. Be smart, Seulgi-ah.”
She opened the door.
The black Hyundai stopped.
And Seulgi stepped out.
Jaeyi regretted not exchanging numbers with Seulgi—if only she weren’t so stubborn.
She leaned forward, voice low. “Park a block down. Stay in the car. I’ll handle this.”
Her driver didn’t argue. He pulled over quietly, and Jaeyi slipped out of the car.
She followed on foot, heart pounding louder with every step.
Inside the bar, the door creaked as Seulgi stepped in, the dim light swallowing her whole. The stale scent of beer and smoke clung to everything—walls, furniture, her skin.
There were only three people inside. Two men hunched over a table at the back. And one tall man behind the bar, wiping a glass slowly with a cloth that looked dirtier than the floor.
Byeongjin followed her in and placed a hand on her back. She flinched.
“Just wait here,” he murmured, already walking toward the table. “Don’t talk. Don’t move. Just smile.”
Seulgi stood near the entrance, every nerve in her body screaming to run. But her feet stayed rooted. She couldn’t make a scene.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow pass by the window.
She turned slightly.
And there she was.
Outside. Across the street.
Jaeyi.
Gaze sharp. Frozen in place.
Their eyes locked.
Jaeyi’s expression was unreadable. But Seulgi saw it—fury. Fear. Determination.
And something else she couldn’t name.
Jaeyi didn’t move
Not yet.
She needed to know what was happening.
But the moment she saw one of the men at the table pass a black pouch toward Byeongjin, her entire body went rigid.
She was no idiot.
She knew what a drug exchange looked like.
And she knew that whatever Seulgi was doing in there—it wasn’t by choice.
Jaeyi had to play this smart.
She took out her phone and took pictures. Taking in both the guys faces and the small trinket they were exchanging.
She took multiple shots before anyone could suspect her.
The pouch disappeared into his jacket pocket, and a moment later, he crossed the room toward Seulgi.
Jaeyi tensed.
They spoke.
Seulgi’s shoulders were stiff. Her jaw moved with short, clipped replies.
But Jaeyi couldn’t decipher a single word.
Whatever Seulgi was saying, it wasn’t a conversation.
It was compliance.
And then, minutes later, the door creaked open.
They stepped out—Byeongjin first, his usual smug confidence oozing from every movement. Seulgi followed closely, her face a mask of practiced calm.
And Jaeyi stepped out, in their view.
She didn’t hide now.
She stood still, arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable. Watching them.
Byeongjin spotted her instantly.
He froze for a second.
Then that sleazy grin spread across his face again.
“Well,” he drawled, “look who it is.”
Jaeyi was in no mood to bicker.
Her eyes were fixed on Seulgi—who looked scared.
Byeongjin let out a mocking laugh. “And you think that scares me?”
“Maybe it should,” Jaeyi replied coolly, pulling out her phone with calculated ease. On the screen: a crystal-clear photo of his face mid-deal, the damning evidence in full view.
“I’m guessing you wouldn’t want these pictures going public,” she added, voice like a blade.
Byeongjin’s face twisted into something darker now—less smug, more dangerous.
“You think you’re clever?” he sneered, voice low, eyes darting between Jaeyi and the phone in her grip. But he knew better than to try anything right now. “That phone won’t protect you for long”
Jaeyi didn’t flinch. Her voice, when it came, was calm—like ice under pressure.
“Maybe not. But it’ll make your life very inconvenient.”
Behind her words was fire, restrained only by the effort to keep Seulgi from spiraling further.
Byeongjin’s nostrils flared. “You’re playing a game you don’t understand.”
“No,” Jaeyi stepped closer, “you are.”
There was a standoff silence between them, thick enough to choke on.
Jaeyi couldn’t tolerate his presence any longer.
Jaeyi turned her head slightly. “Seulgi,” she called, eyes still locked on Byeongjin. “Let’s go.”
Byeongjin scoffed, spinning toward Seulgi. “Really? You’re gonna run off with this spoiled brat now?”
He tried to soften his tone, his words dripping false warmth. “She doesn’t care about you, Seulgi. She’ll use you and toss you aside like trash. But me? I won’t. We’re the same, you and me. We’ve always looked out for each other.”
Jaeyi’s patience snapped. “You call that looking out?” she spat, stepping between them, planting herself firmly in front of Seulgi. “You’re nothing but a predator—preying on people with no way out.”
Jaeyi is just about done nickering with him and gently takes Seulgi’s hand. “You better watch your fucking back from now on”
The threat is very real and Seulgi feels a slight chill run down her from Jaeyi’s tone.
Byeongjin— not knowing the influence Jaeyi’s name has over the town— scoffs in disbelief. “You’ll regret this”, he directs at Seulgi and then reluctantly turns to leave heading in the direction of his car.
Jaeyi wastes no time gently guiding Seulgi to her car through their joined hands and slipping in the backseat.
Seulgi for once did not complain.
The car roared to life and the driver wasted no time getting them out of this place.
They sat side by side now, hands by their side. Seulgi looked out the window, still trying to calm her nerves.
Jaeyi wasn’t sure what to say. Always prying on Seulgi, she had no words now.
So she offered her hand instead. Taking Seulgi’s hand gently in hers and giving it a light squeeze. Seulgi looked at her and Jaeyi gave a reassuring smile.
Seulgi still looked weary, but deep down she was grateful for Jaeyi’s rescue.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To my house, you’ll be safe there” jaeyi replied.
Seulgi gave a curt nod but didn’t pry further.
Seulgi couldn’t quite remember how she’d ended up here—in Jaeyi’s room, freshly showered and wearing borrowed clothes that hung a little loose but felt unbelievably soft against her skin.
Her mind had gone blank after that heated exchange between Jaeyi and Byeongjin. She wasn’t sure which of them scared her more.
Jaeyi emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp, her face unreadable. She looked striking—soft, yet unsettling in her stillness.
Their eyes met for a second before Seulgi quickly looked away, fixing her gaze on the floor.
Jaeyi walked over slowly and sat next to her on the bed, her presence heavy beside Seulgi. The silence between them buzzed with the weight of unspoken words. Seulgi could sense what was coming. She drew in a deep breath to brace herself.
“Seulgi,” Jaeyi began, “you don’t need to worry about Byeongjin anymore. I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it?” Seulgi looked up, wary. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he won’t be a problem for you again. He’s a piece of trash who deserves what’s coming for him,” Jaeyi replied, her voice steady but intense.
“And what gives you the right to decide that?” Seulgi asked sharply.
“He’s been manipulating you from the start—and now he’s turning dangerous. Don’t you see that?” Jaeyi answered, confused by Seulgi’s tone.
“No, who gave you the right to think I need saving?
Jaeyi didn’t flinch at Seulgi’s question. She instead gently reached out. “It’s not about saving you. It’s about having someone who stands by you” I don’t want to lose you. She thought but didnt say it out loud.
Seulgi didn’t know how to respond. For once she didn’t have an immediate bitter remark.
Seulgi realized then that Jaeyi wasn’t going to give up on her so easily. Why she wasn’t sure. Why did she have to be so relentlessly kind, so disarmingly persistent, when all Seulgi wanted was to run?
Jaeyi didn’t press her for an answer. She just sat there—quiet, steady, present.
The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but full—weighted with things neither of them knew how to say.
Seulgi stared down at her hands, twisting the hem of the borrowed shirt between her fingers. Her throat was tight. Her chest heavier than before.
“You make it really hard to push you away,” she muttered, almost too low to be heard.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Jaeyi’s mouth.
“That’s kind of the point,” she replied softly.
Seulgi glanced at her then, eyes flickering with something uncertain—fear, maybe. Or something dangerously close to hope.
She didn’t say anything else.
But she didn’t move away either.