|| Philophobia || Baek Kyung

Chapter - 19 A New Chapter of life

Baek Kyung stormed out of the principal's office, jaw tight, fists jammed into his pockets. The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed faintly above them, matching the static in his head.

Yeona jogged to catch up. "You walk like you're about to set the school on fire."

"Maybe I should," he muttered, not slowing down.

"You wouldn't. Too messy. And you hate the smell of smoke."

That earned her a side-eye glare, but no denial. He pushed through the doors leading outside, the late afternoon air cooling his overheated skin.

Silence stretched between them for a beat, until Yeona said softly, "He's really going that far? Threatening to pull you out?"

Baek Kyung let out a humorless laugh. "Pull me out, cut me off, maybe drag me home by the collar if he feels theatrical enough. That's my dad—always the showman."

She crossed her arms, studying his profile. "And you? What's your plan, Mister Tragic Hero?"

He finally stopped walking, shoving a hand through his hair. The words felt jagged in his throat. "I've been saving. Every spare won from tutoring, from... everything. Enough to pay for school, for a while at least."

Yeona blinked. "Wait. You? Saving? Since when do you even know what a piggy bank looks like?"

His lip twitched, almost a smile, almost. "Turns out desperation makes you economical."

"Desperation makes you cranky," she corrected. "The saving—that's just smart."

He sank onto the steps, elbows on his knees, head bowed. For once, his sharp tongue didn't rush to bite back. His silence was heavier than any retort.

Yeona sat beside him, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. "You hate depending on him that much?"

"I hate owing him." His voice was low, edged with venom. "Every coin feels like a leash. He dangles it, and I dance. I can't—I won't—be his puppet anymore."

Yeona tilted her head, watching his clenched fists. "Then don't. You've got brains, talent, and more pride than five people put together. Use that."

He snorted. "Pride doesn't pay tuition."

"No," she admitted, "but maybe it keeps you alive when everything else is trying to crush you."

Something flickered in his eyes—anger, grief, maybe relief disguised as irritation. "You sound like a self-help book."

"And you sound like a martyr in a K-drama," she shot back, grinning despite the heaviness.

His laugh surprised them both. Short, sharp, but real. The kind that cracked open the weight pressing down on his chest.

Then his expression sobered again. "You don't get it, Yeona. If I walk away from him, I walk away from everything. No safety net. No family. Just... me."

She met his gaze squarely. "Then you'll still have me."

For a moment, he didn't breathe. The sincerity in her tone was too raw, too steady. It scraped against the cracks in his armor.

Baek Kyung looked away, swallowing hard. "You're reckless, you know that?"

"Someone has to match your stubbornness," she replied with a half-smile.

He leaned back against the step, staring at the fading sky. His turmoil didn't vanish—it twisted and churned, but no longer alone. For the first time, the weight didn't feel unbearable.

"Maybe..." he murmured, "maybe it's worth it. Cutting him off."

Yeona nudged his arm. "Maybe? That's the bravest word I've heard from you all day."