Catching Her Heart

JK's POV

The rooftop opened up to us, a cool breeze sweeping across the space beneath a starry sky. As October came to a close, the air grew colder, making me shiver. I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and glanced at Ridhi. She stood in her short dress and denim jacket, seemingly unbothered by the chill, her eyes fixed on the city lights below.

Seeing her cheerful face made me smile. That kind of joy was contagious. But as the moment lingered, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Old habits die hard, I thought, as I flicked my lighter and brought the smoke to my lips. I inhaled deeply, letting the tendrils of smoke curl into the night air.

This rooftop was my escape. When the noise of parties became overwhelming, I came up here for solitude and a smoke. Funny thing is, I swore I’d never touch cigarettes. My dad smoked, and I promised myself I wouldn’t fall into that trap. But sixteen-year-old me didn’t know much about how life could twist and turn, how it could lead you down paths you never imagined. Life has a way of teaching you, doesn’t it? A bit too harshly, sometimes.

I preferred rooftops for their seclusion—up here, I could be myself without the risk of prying eyes or hidden cameras.

“Do you smoke?” Ridhi’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to find her watching me, her brow slightly furrowed, lips parting in surprise.

I hesitated, her expression reflecting a mix of disbelief and curiosity. It was as if she were trying to reconcile the carefree guy enjoying a party with the one standing before her now, cigarette in hand.

If someone else had asked, I would have replied with a yes without a care, but in front of her, I wanted to be that ideal guy. I’m far from being an ideal guy. I smoke, I drink almost every day now. Hell, my whole refrigerator is filled with bottles of different alcohol, and I have a lot of tattoos. I don’t understand why people consider them so bad that they try to hide them. Piercings on ears are fine, but anywhere else is considered delinquent. Idols can’t date anyway, so why would she want to be with me? Can I pretend to be an ideal guy for her? What’s her ideal guy?

Shaking my head and exhaling the smoke, I watched as it disappeared into the air. There’s no denying she’s seen me smoking. “Yeah...I do smoke...” I rasped, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue. Her gaze shifted, and I caught a flicker of disappointment before she masked it with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I see… I thought you didn’t…” Her judgmental eyes locked onto mine, her lips forming a thin, almost forced smile.

“Why so?” I looked down at her, maintaining eye contact and urging her for a reason. Was she disappointed that I smoked?

Her face lit up with a big smile, and shaking her head, she spoke in a calm voice, “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I remember you saying in an interview that you dislike smoking and you also advised your dad to quit.”

I was astonished that she remembered minor details about my life. I knew she was a fan, but it felt like we were childhood friends who had lost contact and were now having a reunion. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the smile that was surfacing. Happiness bubbled inside me.

“But you also said you would never have tattoos, too... so I shouldn’t have been so surprised…” she pointed a finger at me, a smirk on her face, her eyes glinting with mischief.

I chuckled at her accusations, taking another drag of smoke, throwing the small cigarette butt on the ground, and smashing it with my shoe, exhaling the smoke.

“Do you smoke? I know you drink too... be honest here," I teased, pointing a finger back at her.

Her eyes widened for a moment, lips parting slightly, but she quickly composed herself. With a small sigh, she admitted, "I do... occasionally smoke. And about drinking..." She hesitated, glancing down at her feet, kicking an invisible rock. Her voice lowered. "I get tipsy really fast... like one shot of vodka, and I’m already feeling it. I guess I just have a low alcohol tolerance."

I raised an eyebrow. "And that’s bad because...?" I asked, genuinely curious. People drink to get a little buzzed, don’t they? What’s the harm in that?

She looked away, rubbing her arms for warmth as the cold seemed to catch up with her.

Without thinking, I slipped off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders, stepping closer. She looked up, startled, eyes wide as they met mine.

“You looked cold, so…” I answered her unasked question.

She quickly slipped on my shirt, which looked oversized on her petite frame. The sleeves hung off her arms, concealing her hands completely, making her look adorable as she struggled to find her fingers within the fabric.

I laughed at her state, taking her hands to fold the sleeves so they wouldn’t drown her arms. After three folds, her fingers were visible. I did the same with the other arm, then gestured for her to take a seat on the swing. I knew the conversation we were about to have might be a long one.

Once settled, we both took a seat on the swing, letting the quiet of the rooftop surround us. Sitting side by side, we pushed the swing gently with our legs. She stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ground. But it wasn’t an awkward silence; it was the kind where you’re comfortable in each other’s presence. After a few minutes, she looked at me and smiled. This one wasn’t the smile I loved; This one didn’t reach her eyes, and her usual twinkle was gone

“The reason it’s bad is that you will be vulnerable at that time, and people can take advantage of the situation,” she explained.

What did she mean by “advantage”? Did someone take advantage of her when she was drunk. My hands tightened on the chains of the swing as I forced myself to ask. “Has that happened to you before?” My eyes searched hers, frustration clear but tempered by the unease of imagining her in that kind of situation.

“No… not me, but my sister…” she revealed, her voice filled with sadness as she looked at the stars and smiled; again, her smile wasn’t a happy one; it felt forced. “Luckily, nothing serious happened. Her hero saved her that night…” A slow breath escaped her mouth as she said it. Hearing this, my shoulders relaxed, and I felt a quiet sense of calm settle in. The worry that had been sitting at the back of my mind melted away, replaced by a soft, reassuring feeling. It was a relief to realize that nothing had gone wrong, and a small, almost unconscious smile appeared as the anxiety faded.

“I understand why you’re scared now…” I told her. Due to the wind, her hair was flying all over, and unconsciously, I raised my hand to tuck it behind her ear, but my sudden movement made her flinch. My eyes widened as I never meant to scare her.

“I promised my sister that I would never drink with people I’m not close to. In fact, she gave me a list of people she thinks I’m safe with, and it’s only with them that I drink.” She laughed softly, recalling past memories, but then her smile slowly dropped. “You see that bright star there? See! It’s twinkling so brightly…” She pointed towards a star in the sky, her voice cheerful as she saw it twinkling, her eyes glinting with joy. “That’s my sister… Reshma,” she said.

The smile on my face disappeared as I realized what she was saying. So her sister was gone… And that’s why she was holding on to the promise so tightly.

“You were her bias, you know. Oh, how crazy she was for you. She loved you. God, no one was allowed to even like you…” she added, rolling her eyes. “Thankfully, we both have different biases, and we used to fight a lot, arguing over whose bias is better.” She laughed, leaning her head on the swing chain and hitting her thighs as she laughed harder. “Mom would get so annoyed with us, and then we’d get a earful lecture about focusing on our lives instead of yours.” She added.

Oh, so this is why I’m not her bias! Because her sister was so possessive.

“Today is her birthday, and it’s hard not to feel her absence. I promised her I’d be happy, and I’m trying. It just hurts sometime..."  Her voice laced with sadness. “So today, I tried to be happy for her… a little glad that Eunwoo decided to have a party on the same day…” She glanced at me, her eyes losing their glint again, and her smile not as bright as before.

“Happy birthday, Reshma…” I wished to the star, my voice low but loud enough for Ridhi to hear.

In that moment, beneath the vastness of the starry sky, I silently vowed to protect her happiness, just as her sister had wished.