𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 | p.sunghoon

𝟎𝟒.

𓏵

THE CAFETERIA was unusually loud that afternoon, filled with the clatter of trays, the shuffle of chairs, and the sound of overlapping conversations. Lim Sarim moved quietly through the crowd, her tray in hand, eyes cast downward. She had chosen the farthest table in the corner, a place where she could blend into the background like she always did. It wasn't that she disliked people—she just didn't want to be seen, not anymore.

Her eyes were puffy from crying because of the incident after her shift at the karaoke club yesterday night, but no one noticed.

They never did.

She sat alone, picking at her food — thinking of how to get through the rest of the day. A bruise on her arm ached beneath her sleeves, a reminder of what awaited her at home, but she pushed it out of her mind. If she could just make it through the next few hours, maybe she'd survive the day.

Then she saw him, Park Sunghoon. He glided into the cafeteria like he owned the place, his posture tall and confident. The moment he entered, eyes turned toward him. He was the ice skating star and the school's heartthrob, after all. Popular. Untouchable. Everyone adored him.

Sarim lowered her gaze quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice her. But luck was not on her side today.

Just as Sunghoon passed her table, something collided with her tray. Hard. The tray flew out of her hands, crashing to the ground, her food splattering across the floor. Her chopsticks clattered noisily on the tiles, and the cafeteria seemed to pause for a second, all eyes turning toward the mess.

Sunghoon stood over her, his cold eyes unreadable, but there was a coldness there. He didn't even apologize, didn't even seem to care. He just stood there, his lips curling into a half-smirk.

"Watch where you're going next time, loser" he muttered, his voice low but sharp.

Sarim felt her face flush with embarrassment. She wanted to say something, to defend herself, but the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she knelt down quickly, trying to gather the spilled food before anyone could make fun of her. Her hands shook as she reached for the broken pieces of the plate that had shattered upon impact.

In her hurry, Sarim didn't notice the sharp edge of one of the broken pieces. It wasn't until she felt the sting, followed by the warm trickle of blood, that she realized she had cut herself. A thin, red line appeared on her palm, the blood dripping onto the floor tiles.

"Seriously?" Sunghoon said with a scoff. "You can't even clean up without making a mess."

She flinched at his words but remained silent, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. She pressed her palm to her chest, trying to stop the bleeding with her sleeve, still gathering the broken shards with her uninjured hand.

Somewhere behind them, a group of girls giggled, but Sunghoon didn't join in. He just watched her, an odd flicker in his gaze before he turned and walked away as if nothing had happened. The rest of the cafeteria went back to their meals, indifferent, while Sarim hurried to finish cleaning the mess.

She couldn't help but feel small, invisible. Worthless.

By the time she managed to pick everything up and dispose of the broken pieces, her hand was throbbing, the cut deeper than she'd thought. She kept her eyes on the floor as she walked toward the bathroom, blood still trickling down arm. In the mirror, she stared at her reflection—her face pale, her hair falling into her eyes, the bruise on her wrist peeking out from her sleeve—and for a brief moment, she wondered how much more of this she could take.

But she didn't have time to think. Not when she had class. Not when she had to get through another day.

Some weeks passed After that incident, Sunghoon didn't leave her alone. At first, it was small things—bumping into her in the hallway, making rude comments when she passed by, knocking over her food, stealing her seat in the library. But slowly, it escalated. He'd accidentally knock over her books, leaving her to pick them up. He'd laugh at her in front of his friends, make her the punchline of cruel jokes. Sometimes, he would brush past her so close that she could feel the coldness of his presence, his taunts whispered just low enough for only her to hear.

And Sarim? She never fought back. She never said anything. Each time, she swallowed her pride and tried to disappear even more, tried to become as invisible as she could. But no matter how hard she tried, Sunghoon's gaze always found her, his cruelty a constant shadow over her days.

She didn't understand why. Why he picked her, why he seemed to take pleasure in making her life a living nightmare. Maybe it was because she never spoke up, because she never fought back. Or maybe it was something else entirely.