The days leading up to the annual ball blurred into a whirlwind of hushed conversations, frantic planning, and the weight of uncertainty pressing against Nabi's ribs. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once—this reckless leap of faith she and her friends had taken.
A company of their own. A new beginning, carved out of the ashes of what her father had so easily discarded.
She hadn't told Hansol.
Not because she thought he would disapprove. But her life had become a chaotic mess of change—late nights with Hyeri and Kenji sketching out concepts in cramped cafés, legal meetings that made her head spin, suppliers and manufacturers she barely had time to vet. She was barely keeping herself afloat, and the last thing she wanted was for Hansol to feel like she was slipping away.
Yet, despite everything, he never asked her for more than she could give.
He simply stayed.
When she collapsed onto his couch after another long day, he pulled a blanket over her shoulders and let her rest. When she sighed, running a tired hand through her hair, he tucked loose strands behind her ear without a word. And when she held onto him longer than usual, as if grounding herself in his presence, he never questioned it—he just held her back.
Hansol didn't push.
But he saw her.
And that, more than anything, made her chest ache in a way she wasn't ready to name.
The day of the ball arrived in a quiet storm of memories and déjà vu.
Nabi stood in front of her mirror, smoothing out the fabric of her gown. Midnight blue, deeper than the sky before dawn, with delicate embroidery trailing along the hem. It was elegant, timeless—nothing extravagant, but enough to make her feel like she belonged in the version of herself she was still trying to become.
Her fingers hesitated over the necklace resting on her vanity.
She hadn't worn it in days. Maybe longer. Not because she had forgotten it, but because she had been afraid of what it would mean to keep it close—to wear a piece of Hansol against her skin and admit that he had settled into her life in ways she couldn't undo.
Tonight, she let herself reach for it, more comfortably than when she first received it.
The clasp clicked into place, the cool metal pressing against her collarbone.
A breath in. A breath out.
She wasn't the same person she had been a year ago.
Another knock on the door.
This time, she was ready.
Hansol was waiting for her in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with an ease that only made her heart stutter harder in her chest. He was dressed in black, the sharp lines of his suit making him look impossibly effortless.
The moment his eyes landed on her, something in his expression softened.
Then, a slow smile.
"Déjà vu," he murmured.
Nabi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Feels like it, doesn't it?"
Hansol stepped forward, closing the space between them. He tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting over her before settling on the pendant against her collarbone.
"Except this time..."
His fingers brushed against the star, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down her spine.
"...You're wearing this."
Nabi swallowed. "I never stopped meaning to."
Hansol's lips curved, but his eyes held something deeper—something she wasn't sure she was ready to face.
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and full.
Then, with quiet certainty, he held out his hand.
"Shall we?"
She hesitated for only a second.
Then she took it.
His fingers curled around hers, grounding and steady.
The night air was crisp as they stepped outside. The city was alive, humming with movement, but for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them walking toward his car, their footsteps the only sound between them.
Nabi could feel the weight of the words pressing against her chest, demanding to be spoken. She stole a glance at Hansol, at the way his free hand was tucked into his pocket, his other still loosely holding hers like it was second nature.
Now. If she didn't say it now, she might never.
"I started my own company," she blurted out.
Hansol slowed his steps.
Nabi did too, her pulse kicking up as he turned to her, his expression unreadable for a brief, agonizing second.
"With Hyeri and Kenji," she added quickly, her voice suddenly breathless. "We—we decided to start our own label. A fashion brand. I took the money my father gave me and..." She let out a nervous laugh. "We haven't figured out everything yet, but we're doing it. It's real."
Hansol didn't say anything at first. He just looked at her, taking in every word, every inch of her expression.
Then, without hesitation, he dropped her hand—only to cup her face in his palms instead.
Her breath caught.
The emotion in his eyes unraveled something inside her.
"I don't know if it'll work," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I don't know if we're ready, or if we even stand a chance against my father's company, or if—"
Hansol silenced her by pressing his forehead against hers.
"You don't have to have it all figured out right now," he murmured. "You just have to believe in it. And I know you, Nat—you don't do anything without pouring your whole heart into it. That's why it's going to work."
Her eyes burned. She hated how easily he did this—how effortlessly he unraveled the knots in her chest and made her feel like she wasn't drowning.
Hansol leaned back just enough to meet her gaze again. "I'm proud of you," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "So damn proud."
The tears threatened to spill, but she smiled through them. "I should've told you sooner."
"You're telling me now," he said simply. "That's enough."
For a long moment, they stayed like that. Two people in the quiet of the city, caught in something too deep for words.
Then, Hansol let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over her cheek before he pulled back.
"Let's go knock 'em dead, CEO," he teased, flashing her a grin as he opened the car door for her.
Nabi huffed a laugh, shaking her head. But as she slid into the passenger seat, the weight on her chest felt just a little lighter.
By the time they pulled up to the venue, she was no longer afraid of walking into that ballroom.
Because this time, she wasn't walking in as someone bound to her past.
She was stepping forward into her own future.
