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[Rough] - [Gfriend]

It had been a week since the engagement, and the world believed Sunghoon and Rena were enjoying a romantic getaway in Bali. Pictures flooded the internet—smiling faces, hand-holding, picture-perfect sunsets.

But behind the scenes, their PR team had hired lookalikes to keep up appearances. The truth was far more pathetic. Sunghoon sat alone in the house he had once dreamed of sharing with Iseul, walls filled with empty silence and regret. Rena had retreated to her friend's mansion, far from him, far from their hollow charade. Their relationship wasn't just a lie—it was a tragedy built on power plays and façades, a love story neither of them ever believed in.

Pretending to emerge from the airport, Sunghoon strode forward, sunglasses low on his face, ignoring the reporters swarming around them. Flashbulbs exploded in a frenzy. Voices clamored, each one begging for the same thing.

"One picture, just one together!"

He didn't even glance sideways. His gaze was set on the car ahead, his feet moving with mechanical determination. Rena trailed behind, her forced smile faltering as she struggled to keep up. Finally slipping into the car, she let out a frustrated sigh, fiddling with the diamond on her engagement ring.

"Couldn't we at least get one picture?" she asked, her voice laced with weariness. "We're supposed to be a loving couple."

Sunghoon didn't even look at her. "Don't ask more from me than I can give," he muttered coldly. "This whole thing is ending next month anyway. Why bother?"

Rena exhaled quietly, the weight of their sham pressing on her shoulders as she twisted the ring, her fingers tightening like a noose around her own illusions. Neither spoke as the car pulled away—two old friends bound by lies.

Finally reaching his apartment within the company building, Rena stepped inside, her eyes scanning the cold, minimalistic decor. She smirked, walking across the polished floor as if she owned the place.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, dropping his keys on the counter. "We don't have to pretend here," he muttered. "You can go back to your father's house."

Rena turned slowly, her expression unreadable. "By the way, my father asked about that other house you mentioned," she said, her voice dripping with nonchalance. "I told him I didn't like its location."

He would never let her live in that home, Iseul's home.

Not even in his darkest, most vindictive moments did he truly intend for Rena to step foot there as anything more than a placeholder. That dinner weeks ago, where he had so casually told Rena she could redecorate it, had been nothing but a dagger aimed at Iseul's pride. A punishment for leaving him. A petty, calculated strike to see her eyes fill with fire and fury.

But the thought of Rena touching the walls Iseul had built, rearranging the life that still carried her imprint, was unthinkable.

Sunghoon could burn the world down before he let that happen. Hell, even Rena didn't know what the inside of that home looked like.

It was hers. Every memory, every corner steeped in their story, in her laughter and tears. The kitchen where she had made late-night popcorn. The balcony where she'd stood watching the city lights while he held her from behind. The scent of her—flowers and peaches—still lingered in the air long after she had gone.

He had built that house for her.

Not for anyone else.

And no matter how many rings he slipped onto another woman's finger, no matter how many pictures he took, or smiles he faked, he couldn't rewrite the truth written into those walls.

It wasn't just a house. It was her.
Because if that house was hers,
then so was he.

He clenched his jaw barely hiding his irritation. "We won't be living with each other anyway," he said. "We're not even married. You're just my fake fiancée."

But Rena had no intention of letting go. The ring on her finger wasn't a placeholder; it was her claim. She smiled sweetly, her eyes sharp

"I'm getting changed," Sunghoon said without looking at her. "Then I'm leaving for the office."

Desperation flickered in her eyes. "At least walk out with me!" she blurted. "We need to look like a real couple. It's what everyone expects!"

Sunghoon paused, slowly turning back. His eyes, cold and full of disdain, fixed on her. "Rena," he said with chilling calm, "do you really think I'd waste my time pretending for anyone but a camera? No one's watching."

He left her standing alone, her face burning with humiliation, as he disappeared into the other room without another word

Meanwhile, Iseul had spent the past week burying herself in work, hoping the mountain of tasks would distract her from the ache that refused to leave. Her eyes burned from sleepless nights, and her fingers trembled slightly as she typed furiously in Sungchan's office. The papers were scattered, diagrams half-finished, but her mind felt far more chaotic than the cluttered desk.

Sungchan leaned against the table, his gaze lingering on her strained expression before he finally spoke. "Iseul," he said, his tone unusually serious. "There's something I need to tell you. It's important."

She barely looked up, her pen tapping against the pad of notes she wasn't reading. "Go on."

He hesitated for a second, then gave her a crooked smile. "How about we take a break? Go out on the terrace, grab some coffee."

Iseul blinked, her confusion breaking through the haze of her thoughts. She stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Sure," she murmured, her curiosity stirring, though the weight in her chest didn't budge. She stood, rubbing her eyes, as they left the stuffy room behind.

With their coffee mugs in hand, Iseul sat on the terrace sofa, the city skyline stretching beyond the glass barrier. She wrapped her hands tightly around her cup, feeling its warmth seep into her fingers as Sungchan leaned against the railing, watching her carefully before breaking the silence.

"I talked to investors in Daejeon," he began. "They're very interested in our app. I've been thinking of opening a branch there."

Her brow furrowed as she lifted her eyes to him. "Does Mr. Park know about this?"

"Not yet," he admitted with a small smirk. "But he will soon. I wanted you to hear it first—because I think you should handle the branch."

Her stomach knotted, confusion swirling in her chest. "Are you saying we move there? But..."

Sungchan sat across from her, his eyes steady and warm. "I know it's a big decision. But getting away from Seoul... wouldn't it be good?" He paused, his voice softening. "A fresh start?"

Her thoughts spiraled, the weight of his words colliding with the image of Sunghoon and Rena parading through her mind. The perfect smiles, the staged affection—every reminder of her aching heart. She blinked hard, gripping the edge of her cup tighter.

A fresh start.

"I'll think about it," she murmured, her voice quiet but certain.

As they stepped out of the terrace, Iseul's heart unexpectedly lurched as her gaze landed on a sight she'd been dreading—Sunghoon and Rena, walking side by side.

Her breath caught painfully in her chest. The air felt heavier. Her feet faltered, but she kept walking, her hand tightening around her coffee mug until her knuckles turned white.

Sunghoon's eyes found her almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for this moment. His steps slowed, and a familiar ache spread through him, sharp and unrelenting. The world seemed to narrow, their surroundings fading into blurred edges as they stared at each other, the distance between them both painfully short and impossibly wide.

Sungchan, oblivious to the storm brewing in the silence, greeted his twin sister with a broad smile. He pulled her into a quick hug, chatting cheerfully about the coffee and weekend plans, his words muffled in Iseul's ears. Her pulse roared louder than his voice.

Her eyes, though she willed them not to, traveled downward. And there it was. The ring on Sunghoon's finger—a small, sharp symbol of everything that had shattered between them.

Sunghoon noticed the shift in her gaze, the way her expression cracked with a pain she tried to hide. His jaw tightened. Before the weight of her heartbreak could fully sink in, he shoved his hand into his pocket, as if burying the proof of his mistake would erase it.

But the ache remained. It lingered in the way they looked at each other, in the silence that spoke of words unsaid and love abandoned.

Rena turned to Sungchan with a bright smile and asked, "So, how was it in Seoul?"

Sungchan chuckled lightly, leaning back as if the weight of work had left a permanent dent in his shoulders. "What can I say? We worked like crazy—barely lifted our heads from the desk, right, Iseul?"

Iseul, caught off guard by the mention, blinked before forcing a smile. "Yeah, pulled all-nighters... can't even count how many."

Sunghoon's eyes softened as he listened to Iseul's response, his heart twisting with guilt. She had worked hard—so hard that exhaustion lingered beneath her composed exterior. She pulled all-nighters, struggled alone, and he hadn't been there for her. He clenched his jaw as regret surged through him, the weight of his choices pressing heavier with every passing second

Sungchan and Rena continued their conversation, light banter filling the space between them, but Sunghoon's world narrowed. It was just Iseul again—her eyes, her careful facade, her silent resilience.

Their gazes collided like a spark on dry kindling, each wordless glance an exchange only they could understand. The years, the pain, and the mistakes hovered unspoken between them.

Iseul swallowed her feelings, pushing them down where they had nowhere to go. She needed to leave. "Congratulations, Miss Rena... Mr. Park." Her voice was polite, clipped, and painfully formal. She straightened her posture. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

She walked away without a backward glance, but Sunghoon couldn't tear his eyes from her retreating figure. His chest tightened as he watched her, knowing she wouldn't look back—and it hurt more because she used to.

Sunghoon sat in the quiet of his office, the weight of everything crashing down on him like a thousand heavy stones.

He thought about calling her again. But deep down, he knew she wouldn't answer. Not now. Not ever. He couldn't fix the mess he'd made with just a phone call. But maybe, just maybe, he could fix it in person.

Without thinking, he dialed Shuhua.

"Fetch Lee Iseul," he said, his voice a quiet command.

A short while later, the door to his office swung open, and there she was—Iseul—standing in the doorway with fire in her eyes. The weight of the years that had passed, the anger, the hurt, all of it was written in her gaze. Sunghoon stood up quickly, his heart thudding in his chest. He opened his mouth, but the words felt heavy, foreign.

"Iseul," he said, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you answer any of my calls? Or my messages?"

Iseul's laugh was sharp, cold. She folded her arms across her chest, every movement radiating hostility. "Is there anything work-related, Mr. Park?"

Sunghoon felt a sting. It wasn't just her words; it was the way she said his name—Mr. Park—so detached, so distant. The name he had once loved to hear on her lips now felt like a slap.

"Iseul, look, I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. It was all he could say, but it felt hollow.

She sighed, her expression hardening, and turned to leave. Sunghoon's hand shot out instinctively, gripping her wrist. The touch, desperate, but gentle—too gentle for all the damage that had been done.

Iseul whipped around and slapped him hard. The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the sting in his chest. He deserved it.

Sunghoon didn't flinch. Instead, he stood there, dazed, staring at her. His heart shattered with every drop of pain in her eyes, but his voice was steady as he spoke, accepting the punishment. "You can hit me as much as you want, I deserve it," he whispered, his face pale. "I deserve all of it. Just... listen to me.

Iseul's eyes burned with hurt, and she jerked her wrist free again. She looked at him, her face filled with a quiet rage, her tears almost hidden by the fury in her expression.

"You can't touch me," she repeated, each word sharper than the last. "You can't look at me. Not anymore. Because you're engaged. And that changes everything." Her voice cracked, but she didn't let him see it.

His heart sank. Her words cut deeper than the slap, deeper than the silence. The weight of the truth slammed into him.

"My relationship with her isn't anything like you think," he tried, his voice pleading.

" I don't want to hear it," she interrupted, her voice like a cold wind. "You don't get to say anything now. You had your chance, and you threw it away. You threw me away." Her voice cracked just slightly, and for the briefest moment, her eyes flickered with a pain that he had caused.

She turned to leave, and Sunghoon couldn't stop himself from taking a step forward, his heart racing in his chest. "Iseul, please—"

She stopped before the door, her back to him. Her posture was stiff, rigid with the weight of everything she had endured. "Don't take a step closer, Sunghoon," she said, her voice low but firm. "You don't get to cross that line anymore."

And with that, she was gone.

Sunghoon stood there for a moment, stunned, his heart burning with anger—anger at himself. Every step she took away from him felt like another piece of his soul breaking. But he knew he deserved this. He'd destroyed everything, and now, he was left standing alone, with only the bitter taste of his own regrets to keep him company.

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in act 1 Iseul was chasing sunghoon now in act 2 im paking sunghoon chase her