☆

The city was quiet, save for the occasional hum of cars passing by outside the apartment window. Kang Hyewon lay in bed, exhaustion weighing down on her limbs after a long day of wandering through the streets of Seoul. She had spent hours walking through old neighborhoods, reminiscing, wondering if she'd somehow find the courage to stop watching from the shadows and finally face the past she had abandoned. 

She had always thought coming back home would bring her a sense of closure. That once she was back in the city she grew up in, the guilt in her chest would loosen, that she could breathe a little easier. But she was wrong. If anything, it only felt heavier. 

Hyewon sighed, turning onto her side as she lazily scrolled through her phone. Her messages were mostly empty—just a few conversations with old friends and some unread messages from her parents, whom she ignored as much as possible. 

And then, her thumb stopped. There it was. The chat she hadn't opened in years. 

'Taehyunnie 🐱' 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

Her pulse drummed against her ears as she tapped the chat. A thread of unread messages flooded the screen. They weren't recent. The last one was from three years ago—the year she left. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Noona!!
Noona, where are you??
I miss you so much.
You promised you'd come back for me.
Why aren't you replying?
Please, just tell me if you're okay.
Did I do something wrong? Is that why you're not answering me?
I'll be good. I promise. Just please, say something.

Hyewon's fingers trembled as she scrolled further up. 

She never replied. Or if she did, it was only short responses—cold, distant. She had left him behind, and instead of giving him even a sliver of comfort, she had ignored him. Ghosted him like he was nothing. 

Her stomach twisted into knots. 

Her eyes stung as she continued reading, revisiting messages she had been too much of a coward to face. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Noona, today at school, I got a perfect score in math. I bet you'd be happy.
I got scolded for getting second place in the spelling bee. Mom and dad wasn't happy. But that's okay, right?
I wonder if you still remember the promise you made. You said you'd come back. When will that be?
I think... Mom and Dad know that you're never coming back. They stopped talking about you completely. It's like you never existed.
I won't do that. I won't pretend you never existed.
I'll wait for you, noona.

Hyewon squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the phone against her chest as she sucked in a shaky breath. 

She had been so selfish. 

She knew why she did it—why she didn't answer, why she cut him off completely. If she had let herself talk to him, if she had even responded to just one message, she knew she would've broken. She would've run straight back home, straight into that suffocating house, and she would've been trapped again. 

But that wasn't an excuse. 

Taehyun had been just a kid. Just twelve years old when she abandoned him. He had begged her—begged her—not to leave him behind, but she still did. 

Hyewon bit her lip hard. 

A sudden memory crashed into her like a tidal wave. 

"Take me with you."

He had been on his knees, his small hands gripping onto her sleeves like his life depended on it. His voice had cracked with desperation, his eyes puffy from crying. 

And what had she done? 

She had pried his fingers off of her, turned away, and ran. 

Hyewon gritted her teeth, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. She had been a coward for four years. But she couldn't be one anymore. She had to face him. 

Even if he hated her now, even if he refused to forgive her, she needed to see him again. Needed to tell him that she never stopped thinking about him, that she regretted every moment she spent ignoring his cries for help. 

Her heart pounded as she hovered over the keyboard, her thumbs hesitating over the screen. 

What could she even say? 

"Hey, Taehyun. Sorry for disappearing for four years. How have you been?"

That was stupid. 

No amount of words could make up for what she did. 

But still, she had to try. 

Her fingers trembled as she began typing. 

'Taehyun-ah...'

She stared at the message for a long time. 

Then, before she could overthink it, she pressed send.

The message hovered there, sitting in the chat like an open wound. 

Hyewon's breath was unsteady as she watched the three dots appear, signaling that Taehyun had seen it. Her stomach twisted. She hadn't expected him to reply this quickly. Maybe she thought he wouldn't reply at all. 

Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the dots vanished. 

Her heart dropped. 

She swallowed hard, staring at the screen, waiting—praying—that he'd respond. But the minutes ticked by, and nothing came. 

Of course. 

She clenched her phone, pressing it against her forehead as a bitter chuckle escaped her lips. What did she expect? That he would just jump into her arms after four years of silence? That a single message would make everything better? 

She feels pathetic. 

Letting out a deep sigh, she placed her phone on her bedside table and buried herself under the covers, squeezing her eyes shut. 

But sleep never came.

Her mind refused to quiet down. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Taehyun's face the night she left. The way he looked up at her with such trust, only for her to break it in an instant. 

The guilt was suffocating. 

She turned onto her side, eyes drifting to the phone again. Despite knowing he wouldn't reply, she unlocked it, tapping on the chat once more. 

Still nothing. 

Hyewon chewed on her lower lip, then, hesitantly, she started typing again. 

'I know I have no right to message you after all these years.'
'I just... I wanted to see how you've been.'
'I know an apology won't be enough, but I'm sorry, Taehyun.'
'I'm so, so sorry.'

She hovered over the send button, debating whether or not to actually do it. 

Would it just annoy him more? Would it make things worse? 

But before she could hesitate any longer, she pressed send. Then, she set the phone back down and turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She knew she wouldn't get a response tonight.

Maybe not ever. 

But at least now, she had finally taken the first step.

Hyewon kept her phone by her side the entire night. Every few minutes, she would check the screen, hoping for even the smallest reply—a single word, an ellipsis, anything to show that Taehyun acknowledged her existence. 

But the chat remained silent. 

No reply. No read receipt. 

Just silence. 

Her chest ached, but she told herself she deserved this. 

She tossed and turned under the covers, pressing her knuckles against her forehead in frustration. She felt exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. How could it, when the one person she had been running away from for years was finally within reach, yet still felt so impossibly far away? 

She thought back to the Taehyun she once knew—the little boy who used to follow her around, who always tugged on her sleeve when he was scared, who clung to her like she was the only thing keeping him safe in this world. 

And she had abandoned him. 

Hyewon shut her eyes tightly, guilt gnawing at her insides. She had known Taehyun was stubborn—always had been, ever since they were kids. He wasn't the type to let go of grudges easily, and after what she did, she wouldn't blame him if he never forgave her at all. 

But she still wished he would. 

She forced herself to sit up, running a shaky hand through her hair. Her phone screen lit up again, and despite knowing there was no notification, she checked it anyway. 

Still nothing. 

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. 

Would it be too much if she messaged again? Would she seem desperate? 

She hesitated. 

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she typed: 

'I'm back in Seoul.'

She stared at the message. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she sent it. 

And just like that, the chat went quiet again. 

She lay back down, covering her face with her arm. Taehyun is angry. She understood that. She had hurt him in ways that words couldn't fix. But a part of her—a selfish, desperate part—wanted to believe that despite everything, he still loved her. 

That maybe, just maybe, he was reading her messages right now. 

That maybe, he was struggling just as much as she was. 

That maybe, he wanted to reply but couldn't bring himself to. 

And so, as the night stretched on and the city outside remained still, Hyewon closed her eyes and whispered to the empty room. "Taehyun-ah... please don't hate me."

~

Hyewon didn't remember when she fell asleep. She must have drifted off at some point, because the next thing she knew, the early morning light was seeping through the curtains, casting a pale glow over her room. 

Her body felt heavy. Her mind, even heavier. 

The first thing she did—before even sitting up, before stretching or rubbing the sleep from her eyes—was reach for her phone. 

Her heart pounded as she unlocked it, fingers slightly unsteady as she tapped the screen. 

Her messages were still there, untouched. 

No reply. 

Hyewon let out a shaky breath. It wasn't a surprise. But it still hurt. 

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, letting the weight of everything sink in. 

Taehyun was ignoring her. Not out of forgetfulness, not because he didn't see her messages, but because he chose to. 

And honestly, he had every right to. But still, she couldn't stop the ache in her chest. 

She had spent years avoiding him, convincing herself that if she just stayed away long enough, maybe the pain would dull. Maybe one day she'd wake up and stop feeling like the worst sister in the world. 

But that day never came. 

And now, after finally taking the first step, she realized something painful. She wasn't the one avoiding him anymore. Now, it was Taehyun who was pushing her away. 

Hyewon exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. 

She could still remember the way he used to look at her—like she was his whole world, like he trusted her more than anyone. She had broken that trust. 

And no matter how much she wanted to fix things, there was no guarantee that he would let her. 

Hyewon swallowed the lump in her throat, sitting up slowly. 

She didn't know what to do. She had come back to Seoul thinking that maybe, after all these years, she could finally face him. But now that she was here, she had no idea how to even begin. 

Would she have to wait for him? Would he ever reach out first? Or would she have to force her way back into his life? She didn't want to overwhelm him. But at the same time, she couldn't just give up. 

Not when she had already spent four years running away. Not when she had already wasted so much time. 

Her fingers hovered over the screen once more. She hesitated. 

Then, finally, she typed: 

'I'm not asking you to forgive me.'
'I just... I want to see you again, Taehyun.'
'Please.'

She pressed send. 

Then, setting her phone aside, she closed her eyes and waited.

For anything. 

For nothing. 

For him.

Hyewon sat in silence, her phone resting beside her as she tried not to let the weight of everything consume her. She didn't expect an immediate response—didn't expect one at all, really. But then, after what felt like an eternity, her phone vibrated. 

Her heart nearly stopped. 

With a sharp inhale, she scrambled to grab it, her hands slightly unsteady as she unlocked the screen. 

And there it was. 

A reply. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Okay.

Hyewon's breath caught. 

Her fingers tightened around the phone as she stared at the message, reading and rereading the single word as if she had imagined it. Her chest swelled with something close to relief. He had responded. He hadn't completely ignored her. 

But before she could even think of what to say next, another message came through. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Is that all?

Her stomach twisted. He wasn't asking out of curiosity. He wasn't asking because he wanted to talk. It was the kind of message that screamed disinterest—the kind that felt more like a formality than an actual conversation. 

He wasn't blocking her, but he wasn't welcoming her either. 

Hyewon swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting in her chest as she typed. 

'No, I just... I really wanted to talk to you.'

She hesitated, then added a few more words.

'It's been so long.'

For a while, there was nothing. 

Then, another reply. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Whose fault is that?

The words hit her harder than they should have. Hyewon felt her throat tighten. She knew she deserved this—knew that no amount of guilt or regret could erase what she did. But it still hurt. 

She forced herself to keep going. 

'You're right. It's my fault. I'm not trying to make excuses, Taehyun. I just... I miss you.'

The moment she sent it, she regretted it. It felt too desperate, too emotional. And from the way Taehyun took longer to respond, she could tell he wasn't moved by it. 

Finally, another message came through. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Okay.

Hyewon blinked, staring at the screen. 

That was it? 

She bit her lip. She wanted to ask more—wanted to push, to beg, to do anything to get him to say something real. But she knew better. If she pushed too hard, he would shut her out completely. 

So instead, she took a shaky breath and typed carefully. 

'Can we meet?'

She waited. 

One minute. Two. 

Then— 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
No.

Hyewon felt something inside her crack. 

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. She wanted to tell him that she understood, that she wouldn't force him—but she also wanted to plead, to tell him how much she needed to see him. 

Before she could type anything, another message came in. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
There's no point.

Her chest tightened. 

No point. 

That was how he saw it. She had hurt him so badly that he couldn't even see the point in seeing her again.

Hyewon clenched her phone, fighting the overwhelming urge to cry. But she had no right to cry. Not when she was the one who left him first. 

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she typed the only thing she could think of. 

'I understand.'

She hesitated at first, but overcame it as she typed more words.

'But I'm not giving up on you, Taehyun.'

The chat went silent again. Taehyun didn't respond. But he didn't block her either, and that somehow made Hyewon happy.

Hyewon stared at her phone, her fingers gripping it tightly. Her messages still sat there, unanswered. The longer the silence stretched, the more the guilt clawed at her. She should stop. She should give him space. 

But she couldn't. 

Not when she had spent four years avoiding him. Not when he was finally right there, just a few words away. 

Her thumbs trembled as she typed again. 

'I know you don't want to talk to me, but I need to say this.'
'I'm sorry, Taehyun.'
'For everything.'

She waited, heart pounding. The typing bubble appeared for a second. Then disappeared. 

After a while, she gets a response.

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Okay.

Hyewon bit her lip once more. Her chest ached at how cold he was being, but she had expected this. She had earned this. Still, she pressed on. 

'I never meant to abandon you.'
'I was scared, I was selfish, I—'

She hesitated, then deleted the rest of her message. Excuses wouldn't change anything. 

Instead, she retyped her message.

'I should have taken you with me.'

Another pause. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Yeah.

A single word, and yet it carried a weight that made Hyewon's stomach twist. 

'I hated myself for leaving you, Taehyun.'
'Every single day, I thought about you. I thought about coming back sooner.'

Taehyunnie 🐱:
But you didn't.

Hyewon squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn't letting her sugarcoat anything. He was forcing her to face exactly what she had done, without allowing her any comfort. 

And he was right to do so. 

'I know.'
'I don't expect you to forgive me.'
'But I still want to be your sister. I still love you.'

The typing bubble appeared again. Then disappeared. She held her breath, waiting. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
I didn't need you to love me from far away.

Hyewon's hands trembled. 

She could picture him now—his expression blank, his tone cold, but beneath it all, there was hurt. The kind of hurt that had festered for years. 

And she had been the one to cause it. 

'I'm sorry.'
'I'm so, so sorry, Taehyun.'

She didn't care how desperate she sounded anymore. She needed him to know. Another pause, for the nth time

Taehyunnie 🐱:
I know.

Hyewon exhaled shakily. It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't warmth. But it was something. And for now, she would take whatever he was willing to give.

Hyewon stared at her phone, the dim glow illuminating her trembling fingers. 

She should stop. She should give him space. 

But she couldn't. 

Her heart ached with the weight of everything she had left unsaid, and even if Taehyun wasn't ready to listen, she needed to say it. 

'I don't expect things to go back to how they were.'
'I just want to talk to you again. To hear about your life. To know if you're okay.'

Minutes passed. Her eyes burned as she stared at the empty chat, waiting, hoping. 

Then, finally, a response.

Taehyunnie 🐱:
I'm fine.

Hyewon swallowed. 

She knew that wasn't true. She had been watching from a distance with Beomgyu's help, and she had seen it in Taehyun's eyes—the exhaustion, the cold detachment. 

But he wouldn't tell her any of that. Because she didn't deserve to know. 

'Are you really?'

The typing bubble appeared. Then disappeared. 

Desperate, she typed again. 

'I wish I could go back and do everything differently.'
'I should have fought harder for us.'
'I should have stayed.'

A long pause. 

Then, finally— 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Yeah. You should have.

Hyewon sucked in a breath. This was the first time he had agreed so bluntly, without dodging, without brushing her off. She hesitated before typing again. 

'I regret it every day.'

Silence. 

The air in her room felt thick, suffocating. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Regret doesn't change anything.

Hyewon shut her eyes, pressing her lips together tightly. 

He was right. Once again. 

'I know.'

Again, a pause. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Then stop saying sorry like it fixes everything. You sound pathetic.

Hyewon blinked. Something about his message felt different. Sharper, ruder.

Before she could respond, another message came through. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
You left me.
You left me with them.
You knew what they were like, and you still walked away.

Hyewon's breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she read his words, each one hitting harder than the last. She had imagined this conversation a thousand times in her head. She had prepared herself for his anger, his resentment. But nothing could have prepared her for how much it hurt to see it in front of her, raw and unfiltered. 

'Taehyun.'

His next message cut through her like a knife. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Do you even know what happened after you left?*

Her heart pounded. 

She wanted to ask, she wanted to know. But she was afraid of the answer. 

'No. No I don't.'

For a long moment, there was no response. After a while, a text came in.

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Of course you don't.

Hyewon sucked in a shaky breath. 

She wanted to tell him she had thought about him every day. That she had dreamed of coming back. That she had spent years drowning in guilt. 

But none of that changed the fact that she hadn't been there when it mattered. 

So this time, she didn't try to defend herself. She just took it all in. 

Because she deserves it.

Hyewon swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Taehyun's words sat heavy in her chest, pressing down until it hurt to breathe. 

But she couldn't stop. Not when he was finally letting it out. 

'Taehyun, I know I messed up. But I didn't have a choice.'

The response was immediate. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Bullshit.

Hyewon flinched. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
You did have a choice.
You just didn't choose me.

Her throat tightened. 

'No.. that's not true. I didn't have enough money. I barely had enough for myself, Taehyun. If I stayed and tried to save more, I might've never escaped.'

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Then you should have risked it and worked longer.
We could have planned it properly. I could have helped.

Hyewon's fingers hovered over the keyboard. 

She wanted to say 'no, you were just a kid'. She wanted to tell him that she had done what she thought was best at the time. 

But Taehyun wasn't done. 

Taehyunnie 🐱:
I would've gotten a job too. Even if I was 12.
I would've done anything to leave with you.
But instead, you decided you were better off alone.

Hyewon's chest ached. She hadn't thought of it like that. Not back then. All she had been able to see was an open door. A way out. 

And she had taken it. 

Even if it meant leaving him behind. 

'That's not what happened, Taehyun...'

Taehyunnie 🐱:
Then tell me, what did happen?
Tell me how, in any way, you weren't being selfish.

Hyewon sucked in a breath. 

She had no answer. 

Because no matter how much she regretted it, no matter how much she had convinced herself that she had no choice— 

The truth was, she had chosen herself. And now, she was paying the price for it. 

'I...'

She swallowed. 

'I know I don't deserve it, but please, Taehyun. Please forgive me.'

There was no typing bubble. No response. Just silence. Hyewon's heart pounded as she waited, as the seconds stretched into minutes. 

Then— 

Her chat with Taehyun suddenly disappeared. The little profile picture next to his name faded. The message bar grayed out. 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

He had blocked her. 

Hyewon stared at the screen, her vision blurring as a hollow feeling settled deep inside her chest. 

This was it. 

Taehyun wasn't just angry. 

He didn't just resent her. 

He wanted nothing to do with her. 

And for the first time since she had come back to Seoul, Hyewon realized that maybe, just maybe— 

She had lost her little brother forever.

Hyewon stared blankly at her phone, the screen reflecting the hollow ache in her chest. The messages were gone. His name was gone. He had really blocked her. A shaky breath left her lips, but it didn't feel like she was breathing at all. 

Her hands went limp, and the phone slid from her grasp, landing on the bed with a soft thud. It felt final. 

Like she had been holding onto the last fragile thread connecting her to Taehyun, and now, it had snapped. 

Tears pricked at her eyes, blurring the dim glow of the ceiling light above her. A sharp, painful lump formed in her throat, and she clenched her jaw, trying to force it down. 

But it was no use. 

A choked sob tore from her lips, and before she knew it, she was breaking. 

She curled into herself, arms wrapped around her body as if she could hold herself together, as if she could keep herself from unraveling completely. But the second sob hit harder, shaking her shoulders, and soon, she was gasping between cries, unable to stop the tears from spilling over. 

She had always known this would be difficult. 

She had always known that Taehyun wouldn't forgive her so easily. 

But she hadn't realized just how much it would hurt. 

Just how much it would feel like losing him all over again. 

"Taehyunnie..." she whispered through trembling lips, her voice cracking under the weight of his absence. 

No one answered. 

She had spent years running. Years convincing herself that staying away was the right thing to do, that maybe time would heal the wounds she had left behind. But time had only deepened the scars. 

And now, she was nothing more than a ghost from his past—a ghost he didn't want to see. 

Hyewon sat up, wiping at her face with the sleeves of her hoodie, even though the tears wouldn't stop. Her chest ached, her breathing uneven as she tried to gather herself, but it felt impossible. 

For four years, she had been too much of a coward to face him. 

For four years, she had let guilt and fear hold her back. 

But if she kept waiting for the right moment, she would lose him completely. 

And that was something she couldn't bear. 

With shaky hands, she reached for her phone and unlocked it. She couldn't text him anymore—he had made sure of that—but she still had one option left. 

Beomgyu. 

She scrolled through her contacts, hesitating for only a second before pressing his name. The phone rang, each tone making her heart pound faster. 

Then, finally.

"Hyewon-noona?" Beomgyu's voice was laced with confusion. "It's pretty early. I'm getting ready for school right now. What's wrong?" 

Hyewon sniffled, trying to steady herself. "I need to see him." 

There was a pause. "Taehyun?" 

"Yes." 

Beomgyu sighed. "Oh..." 

"I know," she cut in, her voice desperate. "I know he doesn't want to see me. I know he's angry, and he has every right to be. But I can't—" Her breath hitched. "I can't just let things end like this." 

Beomgyu was silent for a moment. 

Then, finally, he exhaled. "I don't know if this is a good idea." 

"I don't care," she whispered. 

More silence. 

"I'll text you his schedule," Beomgyu muttered. "If you really want to do this, you better be ready for whatever happens." 

Hyewon swallowed hard. 

She had never been ready. 

But she had to do this anyway. 

"Thank you, Beomgyu."

⋆｡‧˚ʚ RULER OF MY HEART : 28 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Beomgyu's steps were slow, deliberate, as he wandered through the quiet paths of the high school park. The crisp autumn air bit at his cheeks, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere—specifically, two days ago, when his life had taken an absolutely humiliating turn. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, groaning under his breath.

God, why did it have to happen like that?

The scene replayed in his mind like a cruel joke. 

It had been an impulse. A reckless, poorly executed impulse. Beomgyu had thought about confessing for so long that when the moment finally arrived, his brain short-circuited. 

"I like you." he had blurted out, voice cracking mid-sentence. And while Taehyun was speaking.

He didn't even get a chance to observe Taehyun's reaction before they both broke into a fight. Arguing about pushing one away and the stupid jokes he made.

The, all of a sudden, someone bumped into Taehyun. Hard. Taehyun fell foward, right onto Beomgyu.

Now, Beomgyu could've saved Taehyun and catch him before he could fall, but in a spectacular display of unathleticism, Beomgyu tripped over his own feet, stumbled backwards, and crashed right onto the ground—knocking both of them to the pavement. 

And if that wasn't bad enough, he ended up underneath Taehyun. 

Chest pressed against his. Taehyun's hands awkwardly braced against the floor beside his head. Faces way too close for comfort. 

Beomgyu had frozen. Taehyun had frozen. 

It was the worst possible moment to realize just how soft Taehyun's lips looked. The tension was unbearable, stretched so thin it was seconds away from snapping. 

Without thinking, Beomgyu had started thinking with his dick once again.

"Well, this is... interesting." Beomgyu says, smirking. Then, he proceeds to let his hand creep up on Taehyun's thigh. "Hey, I kind of like this positio—" he teases, hand slightly squeezing the flesh.

Then, Taehyun finally spoke, cutting him off. 

"Shut your mouth." 

Beomgyu had no idea how to interpret that. Was he rejecting him? Was he embarrassed? Was he mad? 

Before he could spiral any further, another voice interrupted them. 

"You guys know people are staring, right?" 

Beomgyu's stomach plummeted. 

Slowly, he turned his gaze up. 

Huening stood there, blinking at them like he had just walked into something he absolutely was not supposed to see. Beomgyu felt every ounce of blood in his body rush to his face. 

But before he could even begin to react, Taehyun shot up like a bullet, practically pressing Beomgyu's body against the ground, making him unable to move. Without sparing a single glance back, he turned and bolted out of sight. 

Leaving Beomgyu behind with Huening. 

In the most mortifying position of his life. 

Back in the present, Beomgyu let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face. "I am never recovering from this." 

His confession had gone so catastrophically wrong that he didn't even know what to do with himself anymore. 

And worst of all? Taehyun still hadn't talked to him since.

Beomgyu let out a heavy sigh, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets as he continued wandering through the park. His chest ached—like it always did when he thought too much about Taehyun. 

He had spent nearly nine years thinking about him. 

Nine years since they first met, two small kids playing in the park. 

Nine years since they had confessed to each other with all the sincerity their tiny hearts could hold. 

Nine years since Taehyun had disappeared without a word. 

Beomgyu still remembered the way he had cried back then, standing in front of Taehyun's empty house, banging on the door and begging for someone—anyone—to tell him where his best friend had gone. 

He never got an answer. 

No goodbyes. No promises to meet again. 

Just silence. 

For years, he had convinced himself that Taehyun had simply moved on. That maybe, just maybe, Beomgyu had meant nothing to him after all. 

But that didn't stop him from missing him. Every single day. 

So when Taehyun suddenly appeared in his high school, Beomgyu had felt like the universe had finally given him a second chance. His heart had leaped at the sight of him, all grown up yet still unmistakably his Taehyun. 

But the excitement didn't last. 

Because Taehyun didn't remember him. 

Not even a little. 

He had only come to this school because of Yeonjun. Yeonjun—who had been his boyfriend.

Beomgyu had felt sick when he found out. Of all people... why him?

And when they broke up after a year, he had waited. Four months, to be exact. He had watched from afar, waiting for any sign that Taehyun was ready to move on. 

Then, little by little, he made his move. Small talk. Jokes. Sitting beside him during study sessions just to get a little closer. 

He had thought that maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right, he could become important to Taehyun again. Even if it wasn't in the way he wanted. 

But a week ago, everything changed. 

Hyewon had told him the truth. 

The truth about why Taehyun had left. About how he had cried so hard that his parents beat him unconscious for it. About how he had lost ninety percent of his memories. 

How he had tried to remember Beomgyu. 

And how he never could. 

Beomgyu swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Taehyun hadn't forgotten him because he wanted to. He had been forced to forget. 

And now, Beomgyu wasn't sure what was worse: believing that Taehyun had erased him from his mind on purpose, or knowing that no matter what Beomgyu did, no matter how hard he tried, Taehyun would never be able to remember him. 

His childhood. Their confession. Their friendship. 

All of it was gone.

Beomgyu closed his eyes, letting the winter breeze nip at his skin as he imagined a different life. A life where Taehyun had never forgotten him. 

If Taehyun had remembered him, maybe they would have grown up together. 

Maybe he would've been there for all of Taehyun's birthdays, teasing him about getting older even if they were barely a year apart. Maybe they would have spent their weekends at the arcade, wasting all their pocket money on claw machines, or sneaking out to the Han River late at night to talk about the future. 

Maybe they would have moved in together after high school. 

They would've rented a tiny apartment—just big enough for the two of them. Beomgyu could already picture it: mismatched furniture, blankets draped over the couch because Taehyun always got cold too easily, and a fridge full of nothing but all of Taehyun's delicious meat dishes and tasty snack leftovers because of how often Taehyun cooks for Beomgyu. 

They would have argued over stupid things, like whose turn it was to take out the trash or who used up all the hot water. But at the end of the day, they would have always come back to each other. Always found comfort in the warmth of their shared bed, limbs tangled together, breaths mixing in the quiet of the night. 

And maybe, after a few years, they would have started talking about the future. Really talking about it. 

Beomgyu would've saved up to buy them a place of their own—a small house with a garden out front, where they could drink coffee together on the porch every morning. They would've gotten a maltese, maybe even a cat, and named them something ridiculous, like "Da-go-nyang" or "Bamgeut." 

They would have worked hard—side by side, supporting each other through every struggle, every setback, every exhausting day at work. 

And maybe, just maybe, they would have started a small family of their own. 

Beomgyu had never really thought about marriage before, but if it was with Taehyun, he would've done it in a heartbeat. He would have proposed in the cheesiest way possible—maybe during one of their late-night walks, stopping under a streetlight and pulling out a simple silver ring. 

Taehyun would have rolled his eyes at him. Called him an idiot. 

But he would've said yes. 

And they would have spent the rest of their lives together. 

Till death do them part. 

A harsh gust of wind cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. Beomgyu blinked, his throat tightening as he stared down at his empty hands. 

No ring. No apartment. No future with Taehyun. 

Because in this reality, Taehyun had forgotten him. And no matter how much Beomgyu dreamed, no matter how much he wished things had turned out differently— 

Taehyun was never coming back to him.

Beomgyu blinked, startled when something warm trailed down his cheek. He lifted a hand, fingers brushing against damp skin, and only then did he realize—he had been crying. 

Tears had slipped past his lashes without him even noticing. 

He let out a sharp breath, tilting his head back as if that would somehow keep them from falling any further. But his chest still felt tight, his heart still ached, and no matter how many times he told himself to stop thinking about the impossible, his mind kept returning to it. 

The what-ifs. 

The maybes. 

The future he had imagined for so long—the one that had never even stood a chance. 

Beomgyu clenched his jaw, exhaling harshly before lifting his sleeve to wipe at his face. He was being ridiculous. Crying like this in the middle of the school park where anyone could see him—where Taehyun could see him. 

He checked his watch. There were only a few minutes left before the next class started. 

A distraction. That's what he needed. 

With a deep breath, Beomgyu straightened his uniform, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the weight of his thoughts. He turned on his heel and began making his way toward the school building, forcing his focus elsewhere. 

The hallways were already filling with students, some loitering by the lockers, others rushing past him in a hurry to make it to their next class. The chatter was constant—a mixture of laughter, complaints about upcoming tests, and casual gossip. 

Beomgyu barely paid attention. 

His mind was still distant, the dull ache of his earlier thoughts lingering like a ghost in the back of his head. 

As he stepped into the main corridor leading to the classrooms, his hands found their way into the pockets of his blazer. The fabric was warm, but it didn't do much to ease the cold that settled in his chest. 

He turned the corner leading to Class 3-A, his classroom, expecting the usual scene—some students still lingering outside, Heeseung probably waiting at his desk to pester him about something trivial, and his seat empty, waiting for him to collapse into it and bury his head in his arms until the lesson started. 

But instead— 

Beomgyu stopped in his tracks. 

His eyes immediately darted to his desk. 

A group of students had gathered around it, their voices hushed yet excited, as if they were witnessing something interesting. Some of them giggled, others whispered to each other while stealing glances at whatever was placed on his table. 

Beomgyu's brows furrowed. 

What in the fucking hell? 

It wasn't unusual for his classmates to be noisy, but this—this was different. 

His seat was completely surrounded. And judging from the curious looks thrown his way the moment he entered, whatever they were all fussing over had something to do with him. 

Without hesitation, Beomgyu strode toward his desk, but before he could reach it, a familiar arm slung itself around his shoulders. 

"Beomgyu!" 

It was Heeseung. 

Beomgyu sighed. 

"Did you know?" Heeseung grinned, giving him a light shake. "One of your many secret admirers left something on your table earlier. They entered during the first few minutes of lunchtime. Bet you were curious why everyone was crowding around it, huh?" 

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, not bothering to entertain Heeseung's teasing. 

A secret admirer? 

That explained the commotion. 

It wasn't the first time someone had confessed to him. Beomgyu was used to receiving letters, chocolates, and random gifts from people who had crushes on him. It happened so often that he had learned to dismiss them immediately. 

It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He just— 

He didn't care. 

Because no matter how many people liked him, he only liked one person. And that person had never once looked at him the same way. 

"Whoever it is," Beomgyu muttered, shaking Heeseung's arm off, "I'm just gonna reject them." Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. "Cold as always, huh? You could at least pretend to be interested." 

Beomgyu ignored him. 

He pushed forward, weaving through the small crowd until he finally reached his desk. The moment he stepped closer, the students who had gathered there immediately began to disperse, retreating back to their own seats while still sneaking glances his way. 

Beomgyu barely noticed. 

His attention was solely on the object resting on his table. 

A bouquet. 

A dozen roses, neatly wrapped with a ribbon, their deep red petals vibrant against the pale white of the paper. 

Beomgyu blinked. 

Real flowers. 

Most people who confessed to him left cheap gifts—store-bought chocolates or paper notes folded into little hearts. But this—this was different. 

Whoever left it had put in effort. 

But Beomgyu didn't care about that. He had no intention of accepting it. 

Just as he was about to push it aside, his eyes caught something peeking out from beneath the bouquet. 

A letter. 

Curious, he reached for it, unfolding the paper with a sigh. If he was going to reject the person, he might as well read what they had to say first. 

He skimmed over the first few lines absentmindedly. 

But then— 

His breath hitched. 

The words— 

They were familiar. 

Too familiar. 

"Hi, Beomgyu-hyung. I got you something. This is a bouquet of roses, and roses symbolize love. I spent my money to buy you this, so you better appreciate it, okay? I managed to get a dozen this time."

Beomgyu's fingers tightened around the letter. 

"I bought you this because I like you, Beomgyu-hyung. I love you, idiot. I love you so freaking much."

Beomgyu froze. 

His heart stopped. 

No. 

This— 

This couldn't be— 

His breath grew unsteady as his mind reeled, his eyes scanning over the words again and again, as if trying to convince himself that he had read them wrong. 

But he hadn't. 

And there was only one person—one person in the entire world—who could have written something like this. 

His hands trembled. His vision blurred. 

Because these weren't just words. 

They were a memory. 

A memory from years ago, when a small, shy boy with wide brown eyes had stood in front of him, holding out a single red rose with both hands. 

A single red rose. 

Not a dozen. 

Just one. 

Because that was all he could afford at the time. 

And Beomgyu remembered, so vividly, the way he had ducked his head, cheeks flushed, voice shaking as he whispered those exact words— 

"I bought you this b-because, I— uhm..."

"I... I like you, Beomgyu-hyung."

"I love you, idiot! I love you so freaking much!"

The letter slipped from Beomgyu's grasp, landing softly onto his desk. 

His heart pounded, and his breath came in short, uneven gasps. 

He couldn't believe it. No, he refused to believe it. 

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was imagining things— 

The truth was right in front of him. 

This bouquet. 

This letter. 

This confession. 

It was from Taehyun.

☆