𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 | jjk ff

1.

New York

I was seated on the couch in my penthouse, casually watching the news as rumors about me ran across the screen. My hair was still damp from the shower I took not long ago, a few stray droplets trickling down my neck. The skyline beyond the glass walls glowed  high-rise buildings kissed by the silver crescent moon, as if Seoul itself was watching me from a distance.

I took a slow sip of champagne. It left a sharp, tingling sensation behind not unpleasant, almost like a reminder that I was still very much alive.

“These people are unbelievable,” I murmured, rolling my eyes as the anchor accused me of being a drug addict. . .and a siren.

“A siren, huh? Well, baby, let me lure you in then,” I said under my breath, amused by my own sarcasm. A soft chuckle escaped me.

I turned off the television and leaned back with a sigh.

It was nearing 10 PM. I found myself missing Seoul or more precisely, the mansion I grew up in. That house always felt like home, despite everything.

Fame, for all its sparkle, had a tendency to wear thin. It was fun until the lies started sticking. I often joked about how much simpler life would be if I were a mafia queen instead. At least then, the chaos would have some meaning. Blood over gossip.

Anyway, sleep was calling. I had an early flight to catch.

Morning.

I woke up feeling more energized than I had in weeks  a rare luxury. Perhaps it was the excitement of returning to Seoul.

“My mansion, I’m coming back to you,” I muttered to myself with a smirk. I sounded ridiculous. Maybe I was a little obsessed with money. Then again, it never let me down.

After getting ready, I left the penthouse and headed to the airport. I’d been overseeing the New York branch for long enough . the chaos, the endless hours. It was time to come home and run the Seoul branch myself.

Standing in line at the terminal, I let out a sigh. I should’ve invested in a private jet by now. It would’ve saved me the trouble. Mental note: add that to the list.

I chuckled lightly to myself and boarded the flight.

Once seated, I opened my tablet and reviewed the designs for the upcoming spring line SW24. Some pieces stood out, but it wasn’t there yet. Good, not great. My standards demanded better.

Fifteen hours later, we landed in Seoul.

And, of course, no one came to pick me up. Disappointing but not surprising. My parents had always been that way. Still, you'd think they'd send someone. A welcome would’ve been nice. I deserved at least that much.

I hailed a taxi. The mansion was only twenty minutes away, nestled in a more private part of the city. My heart fluttered slightly as we approached. Coming back after all this time… it stirred something inside me.

We passed through the iron gates of the estate or “château,” as I preferred to call it  surrounded by quiet woods. Soon, we reached the grand entrance.

I stepped out. The staff immediately moved to collect my bags. There was a lightness in my chest, a rare sense of relief.

As I walked in, I saw my mother in the sitting room, a cup of tea in her hand. Her expression shifted to surprise the moment she saw me.

“Oh dear, what a surprise!” she said, her eyes lighting up.

I rushed into her arms without hesitation. She embraced me warmly, and for a second, it felt like I never left.

She told me my father was still in a meeting, so we sat and caught up. She was surprised, even hesitant  when I mentioned I’d be handling the Seoul branch. But once it sank in, she was happy. Perhaps even proud.

I freshened up, then came down again to eat. She had prepared my favorite dishes herself  something she hadn’t done in a long time. My heart swelled with quiet gratitude. Despite everything, she always had a way of making me feel understood.

Just as I was savoring the meal, my phone buzzed.

I set my fork down and glanced at the caller ID.

Yoongi.

A small smile tugged at my lips. I quickly swallowed and answered, clearing my throat.

He wanted to meet. It had been months , he was always wrapped up in. . .well, his world. The kind of world where power spoke louder than morality.

To me, though, Yoongi had always been like family, a constant. I told my mother I was heading out to see him. She simply nodded in quiet understanding.