She was a happy and cheerful teen. He was a cunning and ruthless, who had been hunting her elder sister for years. She wanted to make him pay for what he did to her sister. In search of the suspect she discovered shocking secrets and hidden truths t...
"You'll either be the villain in someone else's story for standing up for yourself- or a fool in yours if you don't."
Author's Pov:
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The warm glow of the bar wrapped around you, blurring the edges of reality, the amber liquid burned as it slid down your throat, as you savored the third bottle of alcohol. It was your second encounter with liquor after so many years of abstinence. The first had been a night steeped in sorrow, the night you discovered that your parents had been killed. You thought maybe if you drowned yourself in the liquor, you could wash away the memories that hung over you like a dark cloud.
You had asked Moon-bin to respect your wishes and not contact you again until you figured out the tangled web of darkness that had captured Iseul. But stubbornness was Moon-bin's forte, and he refused to leave you alone in this state. Instead, he stepped forward, determined to help you uncover the truth, no matter how precarious the situation was. You had tried so hard to push everyone away, including Moon-bin, who had stepped back into your life when you least wanted it.
You didn't know how to convince Moon-bin, so at last, you just replied with a hesitant "yes." But deep down, you were resolute: you wouldn't take his help, no matter what situation arose, regardless of how desperate the circumstances might become. Your mind was a chaotic whirlwind right now.
First, there had been unresolved argument with Taehyung, and then the unexpected reunion with Moon-bin—someone you hadn't seen in years. It was all too much, and the weight of it pressed down on you like a heavy fog. Each thought collided into the next, leaving you breathless and disoriented. It felt like all pathways were sealed off, every route leading to a dead end.
Taehyung flashed through your mind, his disappointment cutting deeper than a knife. Your fight had been chaotic, a mess of anger and hurt feelings—a storm that only pushed you further into isolation.
As you gulped down the fifth bottle, your vision began to blur. Dizziness washed over you, sighing you leaned against the cool counter, your thoughts spiraling like the whiskey swirling in your glass and yet it did not stop you from reaching for another bottle. The first time you'd drunk was a desperate attempt to numb the pain of loss, but now, it felt different.
