'I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you.'
Coming from a wealthy family was never the major flex in her life. To others, she might come off as a rich spoilt brat but the reality was far from what they perceived her to be.
In a world...
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Miyeon stood in front of her bedroom door, her fingers hovering over the handle. The house was quiet this early in the morning, sunlight filtering through the tall windows in soft golden beams, casting long shadows across the wooden floors.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, feeling the weight of the past two days press heavily against her chest. She had spent those hours trapped in the storm of her own thoughts, reliving old wounds and uncovering truths she hadn’t been ready to face.
But she knew now—hiding wouldn't give her the answers she needed.
She had responsibilities.
As the captain of her team. As the girl who refused to drown in grief when the world still demanded her to stand tall. A girl who could break herself just if it meant she could fix others with those pieces.
Straightening her shoulders, she turned the handle and stepped out into the vast hallway of the mansion. The air smelled of fresh pinewood and something faintly sweet—honey, perhaps.
The soft click of her shoes against the marble floors echoed in the silence as she traced the familiar path through the house. The walls, adorned with elegant paintings and polished wood panels, felt colder than she remembered.
Maybe it was just her. Maybe it was the weight she carried, the memories that never quite left these halls.
Descending the grand staircase, she took each step with a little hesitancy, her fingers grazing the railing. The house was too big, too empty despite being filled with people.
Her family had always been here, moving through these halls like shadows, too occupied with their own burdens to truly see one another. She used to hate it. Now, she just accepted it as another part of her reality.
She could see Riko's mother cleaning a pot at the other end of the hallway, briefly nodding at her in greeting, the older woman smiled at her with a motherly affection.
The closer she got to the dining room, the more she could hear—the faint clinking of cutlery against porcelain, the low murmur of conversation. Then, as she reached the doorway, the entire room fell into silence. Miyeon’s gaze swept over the table, where her family sat in various stages of breakfast.
Her father, held his coffee cup mid-air, his sharp eyes fixated on her as if assessing her decision to finally leave her room but softening ever so slightly at the clear exhaustion on her face. Her mother straightened in her seat, her expression unreadable but her eyes betraying a flicker of relief and a small smile. Mirae, blinked at her, stunned, as if unsure whether to say something or not as she glanced at the adults in the room to say something.
Dino was the first to react. He shifted in his seat, eyes widening in surprise before softening into something gentler—concern, perhaps. He always worried about her, even when she didn’t want him to. Wonwoo, seated beside him, glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but the faintest nod of acknowledgment was enough.
