Falling for Your Lies(sope)

The Life of a People Pleaser.

Authors pov

The bus rumbled down the highway, leaving behind the rolling hills and familiar streets of Daegu. Hoseok sat by the window, his hands pressed against the glass, eyes wide with wonder as Seoul stretched out before him in all its glory. Hours of travel had finally brought him to this moment, and as the skyline loomed closer, his heart swelled with anticipation. This was it—the city where his dreams would come true. The city that held the future he longed for.

He slid the window open, closing his eyes and inhaling the crisp, fresh air. It smelled different—cleaner, crisper—like he’d stepped into another world altogether. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. Everything felt new, exciting, like a fresh chapter was waiting to unfold. Outside, people of all kinds hurried along the sidewalks. Some rushed to work in neat suits, others laughed with friends, and children skipped alongside their parents. It was a different pace, a different life.

Hoseok’s heart squeezed as he thought of his father back in Daegu. Leaving him had been the hardest part of all this, but he trusted Somi to take care of him. He had to. It was the only way he could focus on what lay ahead.

He was lost in thought when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw a boy sitting beside him, maybe younger by a couple of years, with a shy smile on his face. The boy waved warmly.

“Hi,” Hoseok greeted back, his face lighting up as he waved too. He felt a twinge of excitement—maybe he had already made his first friend in Seoul.

But then the boy’s gaze drifted toward the sandwich sitting on Hoseok’s lap. The sandwich his father had painstakingly prepared for him that morning before he left for Seoul, insisting Hoseok take it as a special treat for his journey.

The boy’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Hey, uh… I forgot mine at home. And I haven’t eaten since we got on the bus. Could I maybe have that?”

Hoseok blinked, his gaze dropping to the sandwich. His heart immediately ached. He hadn’t eaten either, and his stomach growled softly in reminder. The sandwich was supposed to be his—a parting gift from his father, made with love. His father, who even with cancer, had made sure Hoseok wouldn’t go hungry on his way to Seoul. Hoseok had been looking forward to eating it, to savoring the taste of home one last time before plunging into his new life.

But now, this boy was asking for it. And Hoseok, being who he was, couldn’t say no. He never could.

His thoughts raced. What if the boy was starving? What if he passed out from hunger? What if something bad happened to him because Hoseok had been selfish? He couldn’t live with that guilt. He could never live with the thought that he hadn’t helped someone in need. But at the same time, his father had made this for him. Just for him.

His heart beat wildly in his chest as he looked at the boy, wanting—needing—to say no. For once in his life, he wanted to prioritize himself. He wanted to feel the weight of his own needs, just this once.

“No,” Hoseok whispered, the word foreign on his tongue. He said it quietly, almost testing it out. The boy blinked, a flash of surprise crossing his face, but then he shrugged and looked away.

Hoseok’s stomach twisted. The silence was suffocating, and guilt gnawed at him immediately. The boy’s expression—his indifference—hurt more than anything, as if Hoseok had done something truly wrong. The guilt built and built until it became unbearable, the weight of his decision crushing him.

“I was kidding,” Hoseok blurted out, his hands trembling as he stretched the sandwich toward the boy. “You can have it.”

He wished—hoped—that the boy would refuse, that he’d smile and say it wasn’t necessary, that he could manage without it. But the boy didn’t even hesitate. He took the sandwich without so much as a thank you and immediately unwrapped it, biting into it as if it was his right all along.

Hoseok watched in silence, his stomach tightening as the boy ate. His father’s handiwork, his last connection to Daegu, disappearing in the hands of a stranger. And all because Hoseok couldn’t say no.

He turned back to the window, the joy of seeing Seoul fading as hunger gnawed at him and the cold realization settled in his bones. This problem—his inability to say no, his relentless people-pleasing—had always been his downfall. And it would be his downfall.

It would be the death of him.