Behind the screen / H.HJ Centric

the misunderstanding

Inyeop's Point of View

I stood frozen, rooted to the spot, my fingers still trembling against the cheek that burned from Hyunjin's slap. The sting wasn't just on my skin—it spread through my chest, my lungs, my heart, until even breathing felt like dragging broken glass into me. I wanted to run after him, to demand why, to pull him back into my arms—but my legs betrayed me. They stayed there, heavy, like iron. My thoughts tangled in a storm. What now? Where is he going? Is this truly the end?

Tears threatened, but I blinked them back. The moment felt too fragile for weakness, though weakness was all I felt.

Flashback 1

The scene replayed in my mind, painfully vivid.

Just like now, I had once stood in the middle of a living room—Eunwoo's living room. My hand pressed to the same cheek, words caught in my throat, staring at the man I thought I knew. Eunwoo's chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot, swollen with tears he couldn't hide anymore. His mouth opened and closed like he was drowning in words he couldn't say.

"What are you doing?" I managed, though my voice cracked, choking out syllables that sliced through the silence. My eyes widened in disbelief, as if the man in front of me wasn't Eunwoo at all but a stranger wearing his face.

Moments before, another fight had burned between us. The kind of fight that gnaws at old scars instead of healing them. But this time, something was different. Final. I felt it in my bones. This wasn't another argument—it was the funeral of our relationship.

Because I knew. Eunwoo had cheated.

Not whispered rumors, not suspicion. A photograph. Cold, undeniable proof splashed across tabloids—Eunwoo kissing a girl outside a club in Hongdae. While I sat at home, believing his lies, loving him blindly.

And now? Instead of remorse, instead of a confession, instead of anything human, he raised his hand to me. He slapped me. As though I were the guilty one. As though I deserved punishment.

My blood turned to fire. "Eunwoo," I repeated, sharper this time, each word like broken glass on my tongue. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

He stammered, reaching for excuses. "I—Inyeop, I... I'm so sorry. I was drunk, I—I didn't mean—"

"No!" My voice cut him off, shaking with rage. "You don't slap the victim! You don't betray me and then hurt me! What the fuck is wrong with you?" My breath came hot and jagged. I could barely recognize myself in the fury.

I didn't wait for his answer. My decision rose from a place so deep inside me, so final, that I knew there was no going back. "Forget this. Forget us. We're done. Don't you dare crawl back—I want you gone by tomorrow."

I didn't even look back as I grabbed my leather jacket and shoved my feet into my shoes. Eunwoo's voice wavered behind me, broken, desperate, but it was too late. I slammed the door with a force that shook the walls.

The night air hit me like a baptism, cold and sharp. I walked aimlessly, lungs burning with each breath, tears threatening but refusing to fall. My feet carried me to a quiet park, where the swings creaked softly in the breeze.

That's where I saw him for the first time—Hyunjin. Long hair catching the faint glow of the streetlights, sitting alone on a swing.

Flashback 2

Hyunjin.

The name echoed in my mind like a mantra as I walked home that night. My lips curved into a smile I couldn't control. My heart beat erratically, wild, as though it already knew a new rhythm—the rhythm of him.