𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝘚. 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘺𝘶𝘯

Brownies

Yeri woke up unusually energized that morning, an unfamiliar excitement bubbling in her chest. For some reason, all she could think about was Jake—his gummy smile, his teasing words, and most of all, the way his voice softened when he called her "pretty." That single word had replayed in her mind all night, making her stomach flip with an emotion she wasn't ready to name.

As she stood in front of the mirror, Yeri decided she wanted to look good today—just in case she ran into him. Her long, black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and she carefully secured it with two small star shaped clip. She studied her reflection, smoothing out the pleats of her skirt before shaking her head and muttering, "It's just Jake."

But it wasn't just Jake.

She grabbed a small pink box tied with a delicate bow off her desk. Inside were the brownies she'd stayed up far too late making, telling herself they were for her friends, but deep down, she knew who she really wanted to give them to.

The walk to school felt lighter than usual. Her steps carried a spring, and as soon as she stepped off the bus, she skipped toward the gates, clutching the box like it held something fragile. Her eyes darted around the campus, scanning for a familiar figure, and when she didn't see him, she approached Heeseung, who stood chatting with a group of students.

"Have you seen Jake?" she asked, her voice polite but eager.

Heeseung tilted his head, thinking for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I think I saw him heading down the hall toward the auditorium."

Yeri smiled in thanks and quickly made her way down the hall, her heart thrumming louder with every step. She reached the auditorium and poked her head inside, but the sight that greeted her made her freeze in place.

There he was. Jake. Holding Soojin.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, her face buried in his shoulder as if she were crying. Jake's hand rested gently on her back, his expression one of concern. Yeri's stomach twisted painfully, and her hands trembled as she clutched the pink box.

Her vision blurred, and her chest tightened as if the air had been knocked out of her. She wanted to turn away, but her feet wouldn't move. Her back collided with the wall, the sound muffled in the empty hallway. She couldn't stand it—the sight of them together, the way Jake held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Before she could make herself known, she spun on her heel and rushed out, the small star clip falling from her hair and landing silently on the floor.

Inside the auditorium, Jake finally pried Soojin off him, his patience thinning. He offered her a few more comforting words before stepping away, his eyes catching something on the floor near the door—a small star shaped clip.

He bent down, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. It looked oddly familiar. He slipped it into his pocket, a faint frown tugging at his lips.

After leaving Soojin behind, he wandered to his class, his mind preoccupied. When he arrived, he glanced around, expecting to see Yeri in her usual seat. But it was empty.

Jake blinked, confused. Yeri was never late. She had perfect attendance, always punctual, and never missed a day without reason. Something wasn't right.

Without hesitation, he turned and left before the teacher could notice, sprinting down the halls in search of her. His heart pounded, an unfamiliar worry gripping him.

He finally spotted a small figure sitting by one of the classroom windows in an empty room. Her head was adorned with a star clip, identical to the one in his pocket.