WHEN SHE BECOMES MINE | KTH ✔

3.THAT GUY

Ha Sun's POV

I gently wiped away my tears, each droplet a painful reminder of the previous night's ridicule. With a soft sigh escaping my lips, I made my way toward the nearby park, a small sanctuary close to my home where I hoped to find some clarity amid the storm of emotions swirling inside me. The day had begun in a dismal way, and I longed desperately to turn things around, to start fresh, to breathe in the crisp air and let inspiration wash over me like a gentle tide. The taunts I had endured, their laughter still echoing in my ears, had made me feel both foolish and pathetic. My once-pristine white shirt, now drenched in soju from Min Nyuk’s clumsy antics, clung uncomfortably to me, a canvas soaked in embarrassment. I couldn’t help but think how horrible I must look in that moment, and a dark, vengeful thought crossed my mind: how satisfying it would be to make them pay for their cruelty.

As I ambled closer to the garden, the greenery and vibrant flowers beckoned me to immerse myself in their tranquility, but dizziness swirled around my head like a thick fog, making each step feel laborious. When I approached the road, a motorcyclist sped by, only to skimpily stop as I crossed. Alarming me, my feet stumbled backward, and I fell, my half-soaked sketches scattering across the pavement like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind. My hair fell like a curtain over my face, blurring my vision. I caught a fleeting glimpse of the rider, whose hesitant demeanor reflected reluctance as he remained on his bike, debating whether to assist me. Instead of raising my voice to confront his indecision, I quietly gathered myself and the remnants of my papers, shuffling to the side of the road in a state of disheartened embarrassment.

“Hey, where are you headed? I’m really sorry about bumping into you…” he called out somewhat apologetically, but I was too overwhelmed to stop and engage; all I wanted was to escape to the calmness of the sidewalk for a while.

Once I settled down, attempting to gather my jumbled thoughts, a wave of realization washed over me—the motorcyclist had taken my precious sketches with him, my invaluable creations that were meant to be shown to someone special, even if they were now marred by stains. 

“Oh no, what am I going to do? Those sketches were everything! They signify so much to me, and now they’re in the hands of that careless guy!” I muttered sadly, my fingers tangling in my hair as frustration mounted. All I wanted was to find solace in the park, reflect on the events, and somehow prepare myself to head back home.

As fate would have it, my eyes caught sight of the red motorcycle parked not too far down the street. A flicker of hope ignited within me. It was his motorcycle! Maybe I could find him, retrieve my sketches, and salvage the remains of my dignity! I nervously approached the house it was outside of, suddenly struck by an inconvenient realization. 

“Wait a minute, isn’t this Jungkook’s house? Why on earth is he here? No wonder he didn’t bother to help; he’s friends with all those jerks!” My thoughts tumbled chaotically within my mind. Should I wait around for him to appear? The uncertainty mounted. Deciding that patience wasn't my strong suit, I walked back home, my mind swirling, hoping for a chance to rest and regroup.

The moment I returned home, exhaustion succumbed me, and before I knew it, I had fallen into a deep sleep. When I jolted awake, panic surged as I glanced at the clock.

“What?! It’s 9 AM! What have I done? I need to stop him before he leaves Jungkook's!” I scrambled out of bed, still clad in my mismatched pink pajamas and a red headband that sat messily atop my head.

But as I dashed outside, my heart sank; the motorcycle was gone, along with all hope of reclaiming my sketches. Another blow to my spirits—it was shaping up to be a dreadful day. Resigned, I began my slow trek home, contemplating my ill fortune when my phone buzzed with an incoming call. To my surprise, it was Min Nyuk on the line.