Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the fallout, since everything between Jihoon and Jinhee had crumbled. On the outside, it might have seemed like they were getting back to their routines, moving forward with their lives, but on the inside, they were both far from okay.
Jihoon had thrown himself into his work, his father's constant demands only adding to the weight on his shoulders. He had become a regular at mandatory meetings, gatherings, and events — things he'd once easily avoided, but now, with the pressure mounting, he couldn't escape. He was working harder than ever, trying to keep his mind occupied, but no matter how many meetings he attended, no matter how many projects he worked on, his thoughts always returned to her.
He couldn't concentrate. He hadn't been able to concentrate for weeks. His professors were starting to notice, and even his father had commented on his lack of focus during a meeting the previous day. Jihoon barely cared. None of it seemed important anymore.
Jinhee, too, seemed to be moving through her days on autopilot. She attended her lectures, but her mind was elsewhere. She tried to focus on her studies, tried to push everything aside, but every time she looked down at her notes, every time her phone buzzed, a part of her heart would break all over again. She couldn't forget what had happened, no matter how much she wished she could.
Jihoon tried to talk to her — over text, through brief encounters in hallways, even once when he ran into her on campus — but she remained distant. Her answers were short, her gaze cold. She wasn't cruel, but she wasn't open, either. It was like there was an invisible wall between them, one he couldn't break down, no matter how hard he tried.
But the more he tried, the more the distance between them seemed to grow. Every time she avoided him, every time she shut him out, a deeper ache settled in his chest.
What had he done?
Jinhee, for her part, felt the weight of her own emotions pressing down on her every day. She missed him — in ways she couldn't explain. She missed the way he made her laugh, the way he would look at her like she was the only one in the room. But there was too much pain now. She wasn't sure if she could ever look at him the same way again.
Despite everything, she still saw him — in the hallways, at the campus cafe, even sometimes in the music room. And every time, a small part of her wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him and forget all the hurt. But another part of her, the stronger part, pulled her back. She couldn't let herself get hurt again. Not by him.
They were both struggling. They were both broken in their own way.
And still, neither of them knew how to fix it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀---------------------------------------------------
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
<Jinhee, can we please talk?>
Another text. Another ignored text.
Jihoon stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he put the phone down with a frustrated sigh. Another attempt, another failure. He had tried everything — but nothing seemed to break through. Jinhee was distant, colder with each passing day. It was like she didn't even want to listen to him anymore.
He felt hopeless. Every time he thought about the things he had done, about how he had hurt her, it felt like a weight too heavy to carry. It wasn't just her trust he had broken—he had also shattered the promise he had made to her parents. The memory of their faith in him, their belief that he would always protect and cherish her, twisted in his chest like a knife. He had failed them. He had failed her.
Junkyu wasn't here tonight. It had been a long day, and he was alone in his room, staring at the empty space around him, the quiet pressing in. He needed to escape.
Frustration bubbled inside him like a slow-burning fire. He couldn't fix things, couldn't make it right. His mind felt too clouded, his heart too heavy.
With a resigned sigh, he stood up, grabbing his jacket. The night was young, and he needed to get away from the suffocating silence. Without a second thought, he headed out the door, making his way toward the nearest bar.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Jihoon arrived at the bar, the neon lights flickering above the entrance, casting a dim glow over the street. He wasn't sure why he'd come. Maybe he was trying to drown the gravity of his thoughts, or maybe he just needed a distraction from everything. He hadn't planned on drinking much — he rarely drinks, after all — just enough to take the edge off.
Inside, the noise of laughter, clinking glasses, and chatter filled the air, but it did nothing to soothe him. He found a seat at the bar, leaning heavily against the counter as the bartender slid a glass of whiskey in front of him. Jihoon didn't even question it. He needed something to numb the ache in his chest.
He took a sip, the warmth of the liquor burning down his throat. It didn't help, but it was all he could do. Another sip, and then another. The alcohol began to take effect, dulling the sharpness of his thoughts, making everything feel... easier. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was quiet.
But that peace didn't last long.
Minwoo walked in, flanked by his usual group of friends. He spotted Jihoon almost immediately, his grin widening as he approached the bar. Jihoon, in his drunken haze, didn't even recognize him at first, but Minwoo's voice was unmistakable.
"Well, well," Minwoo drawled, sliding onto the barstool next to him. The smug grin on his face was as infuriating as ever. "Didn't think I'd see you here, Jihoon. Didn't peg you for the drinking type."
Jihoon stiffened but didn't look at him. "Go away." he muttered, his voice hoarse.
Minwoo chuckled, ignoring the dismissal. "You look rough, man. Trouble in paradise? Oh, wait — there is no paradise anymore, right?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a mockingly concerned tone. "Jinhee's still ignoring you?"
Jihoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as he fought to stay calm.
"Oh, come on," Minwoo continued, his smirk widening. "Don't be like that. You know, if you want to get her attention, this isn't a bad start. Girls love a brooding, broken-hearted guy."
The words barely registered. Jihoon was too far gone in his misery to respond.
Minwoo pulled out his phone, pointing it directly at Jihoon. "Say cheese, buddy."
The flash of the camera broke Jihoon's trance, but before he could react, Minwoo had already sent the video off, grinning triumphantly as he tapped his screen.
"Let's see how she likes this," Minwoo muttered to his friends, who laughed as they gathered around him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Jinhee sat at her desk, staring blankly at the notebook in front of her. She had been trying to study, but her mind kept wandering back to Jihoon. The hurt, the betrayal — it was all still too fresh.
Her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She glanced at the screen and froze.
It was a video message from Minwoo.
Jinhee's heart dropped as she hesitated before tapping the play button. The video loaded, and her worst fears were confirmed. There he was, Jihoon, completely out of it, his eyes unfocused and his face flushed. He was holding a glass of whiskey — the kind of drink Jihoon had never even thought to touch before.
Jinhee's stomach twisted. She knew Jihoon doesn't usually drink. She bit her lip, her mind racing with confusion and concern.
Minwoo's voice came through, taunting and smug: "Look at your boyfriend. Drowning his sorrows already. Guess the golden boy's not so perfect after all. Don't worry, Jinhee, he's just trying to numb the pain, I bet he's been doing a lot of this lately."
She put her phone down, not replying to Minwoo. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Jinhee closed her eyes, shaking her head, as if hoping the video would disappear. But then, her phone buzzed again. Another message. This time, it was from a different number — a casual acquaintance from campus, who also had been at the bar, clearly wanting to share what had happened next.
The message read: <Isn't this your friend? Thought you'd want to see this.>
The second video was worse. Minwoo had thrown a drink in Jihoon's face. It was a cruel, deliberate move, and Jihoon, barely aware of his surroundings, could do nothing but stumble back in shock. The group around him laughed, egging him on, as they made him drink more. It was like a twisted game, and Jihoon was the unwilling participant.
Jinhee's hands shook as she watched the video. She wanted to brush it off, to tell herself it didn't matter, but the concern gnawed at her. Jihoon looked awful in the video, and the fact that he was even there... She could feel her pulse quickening, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She had to do something. She had to go to him.
She didn't think twice. She grabbed her coat, rushed out of her room, and practically ran down the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't even know what she was going to say to him, but she couldn't sit by and do nothing.
Jihoon was slipping further away, and it was breaking her heart to watch from a distance.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Meanwhile, at the bar.
Jihoon struggled against the two men who had him by the arms, his body swaying with the force of their grip. His vision was blurred, the room spinning as he tried to keep his balance. They were forcing him to stay seated, pouring drink after drink into his hands, urging him to keep drinking, keep swallowing.
"Come on, Jihoon, just a little more," one of the guys said with a mocking grin, the words slurring in Jihoon's fuzzy ears.
"Don't be such a buzzkill," the other guy added, trying to force his mouth open. Jihoon fought back weakly, trying to push them away, but his arms felt like lead.
His breath was shallow, heart racing, and his head was pounding. But it didn't matter anymore. Everything felt numb, a dull ache filling him, the alcohol taking over. He gave up trying to resist. At this point, it felt like there was no way out, no way to escape the ache in his chest. Maybe this would make it all go away.
Minwoo, still watching with that smug grin plastered on his face, stepped forward, holding a glass of wine in his hand. "Here, Jihoon," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Try this one. It's really good. A little different, but hey, maybe it'll make you forget what you've lost."
Jihoon looked at the glass in Minwoo's hand, his vision blurry, but he didn't care. They were all the same now — just more drinks, more distractions. He reached out and took the glass, bringing it to his lips. The alcohol burned his throat, and he coughed, but the momentary discomfort was nothing compared to the pain inside of him.
The room seemed to spin faster. His body felt lighter, looser. He started to giggle, something he hadn't done in ages, but the laughter was hollow, empty. It felt like he was losing control, like he wasn't even himself anymore.
Around him, people cheered and laughed, egging him on, all of them watching with amusement as Jihoon continued to drink. Minwoo was at the center of it all, clearly enjoying the sight of Jihoon, broken and lost, spiraling into this pit of self-destruction.
"That's it," Minwoo said, lifting his own drink to Jihoon in a mock toast. "Drink it all, Jihoon. You'll feel better. Maybe then you can forget about her... forget about everything that's gone wrong."
The words stung, but Jihoon couldn't even process them fully. He just kept drinking, the world blurring even further as the alcohol took its toll. Each sip felt like a tiny piece of the old him slipping away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Jinhee sprinted through the streets, the name of the bar etched in her mind. Her heart raced, her breaths shallow as panic surged through her.
The second video had been the breaking point. Seeing Minwoo humiliate Jihoon like that, seeing how utterly defeated he looked — it was too much.
She didn't even stop to grab her coat properly, barely registering the cold evening air biting at her skin. All she could think about was getting to Jihoon. She hated him for what he had done, hated the mess he had created, but this... this wasn't right.
Finally, she reached the bar, her chest heaving as she pushed open the door. The dim light and the strong scent of alcohol assaulted her senses, but she didn't care. She scanned the room frantically, looking for him.
Her eyes darted from table to table, searching through the haze of smoke and the sea of unfamiliar faces. Her heart sank as she spotted Minwoo and his gang in the far corner, their laughter ringing out like nails on a chalkboard.
And then she saw him.
Jihoon was slumped in his seat, his face pale, his shoulders hunched.
She pushed through the crowd, her voice sharp and panicked as she called out, "Jihoon!"
He turned his head, his glassy eyes struggling to focus on her. For a second, he blinked in confusion, then his face lit up with a lopsided grin and a giggly smile spread across his face. "Jiji!" he exclaimed, his voice slurred. "You're here! Or... am I dreaming again?"
Jinhee's stomach churned at the sight of him. He was drunk — no, beyond drunk. His shirt was soaked and stained with what looked like red wine. Her chest tightened as she approached, brushing past Minwoo's group without a second glance.
"Jihoon," she said, crouching in front of him. "did you drink wine too?"
He blinked at her, his expression soft and childlike. "Yeah," he said, giggling. "It was tasty. Like juice." He snickered, clearly unaware of the gravity of the situation.
Her heart dropped. Wine. He's allergic.
She stood abruptly, her anger bubbling to the surface as she turned to Minwoo. "What the hell did you do to him?"
Minwoo smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Relax. He's just having a little fun. Isn't that right, Jihoon?"
Jihoon chuckled weakly, oblivious to the tension crackling around him.
Jinhee clenched her fists, but before she could say anything, one of the guys from Minwoo's group grabbed Jihoon's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Alright, time to head out, golden boy," he said, ignoring Jinhee entirely as they began dragging Jihoon toward the door.
"Wait!" Jinhee protested, stepping forward, but someone else grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.
"Hey, pretty, where you going?" the guy said, a lecherous grin on his face. "Don't worry, he's just having fun. Maybe you wanna have some fun too? Why don't you stay here with me instead?"
Jinhee yanked her arm, but his grip tightened, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her stomach churn.
"Let go," she said firmly, her voice shaking with anger.
The man leaned closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Don't be like that, sweetheart—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling backward and crashing into a nearby table. Jinhee froze, her heart pounding as she looked up.
Jihoon stood there, swaying slightly but still steady enough to glare at the man. His usually gentle eyes were filled with an intensity she had never seen before.
"Don't fucking touch her," Jihoon growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The man scrambled to his feet, clutching his jaw and muttering curses under his breath, but Jihoon didn't even spare him another glance. His focus was entirely on Jinhee, his expression softening as if the world around him had faded away.
"Jiji," Jihoon murmured, his words slurred but filled with an undeniable affection. He reached out to her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Are you okay?"
Jinhee stared at him, her heart racing as emotions surged through her. Shock, concern, guilt, and something deeper she couldn't quite name. He's drunk, she thought, her chest tightening. He doesn't even know what he's doing.
Before she could respond, a flash of movement caught her eye. The man who Jihoon had shoved was on his feet, now seething with rage. In a swift motion, he lunged at Jihoon, throwing a punch that landed square on Jihoon's face.
Jihoon staggered back, his vision blurring further, but his hand instinctively went up to wipe the blood from his lip, still smiling, still unaware of the danger he was in.
Jinhee's heart dropped. She didn't think — she just acted. She shoved the guy away from Jihoon, stepping between them.
"Stop it!," she yelled, her voice firm but desperate.
But the man was drunk and angry, his eyes wild. "Stay out of this, bitch!" he spat, trying to get around her to strike Jihoon again.
Jihoon's blurry vision cleared slightly as the insult registered. His anger flared, his body trembling with frustration. "Don't call her that, you bastard!" he snarled, his voice low and dangerous, the protective side of him waking up despite his inebriation.
With surprising force, Jihoon pushed himself upright, shaking off the hands that tried to hold him back. He swung his fist in the direction of the man, hitting him with a messy but solid blow to the stomach. The guy staggered back, winded but still aggressive.
"Don't you dare touch her again!" Jihoon shouted, his words slurring but the intent clear. He was a far cry from the calm, controlled Jihoon everyone knew. Right now, he was fighting against the alcohol fog in his head and the overwhelming sense of protectiveness for Jinhee.
Jinhee quickly stepped between them again, her hands shaking as she tried to get Jihoon to focus on her. "Jihoon, please, stop. Let's go."
Jihoon, still reeling from the punch, muttered something under his breath. "Jiji... don't worry about me.. I'm fine." His words were slow, garbled, but the intent was clear, he didn't want Jinhee to worry.
But Jinhee wasn't having it. She turned back to him, her eyes soft but filled with worry as she helped him steady himself.
"No, you're not fine," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We need to get out of here."
Jihoon's eyes focused on her, trying to make sense of her words, but all he could manage was another drunken grin. "I'm good... I swear. You're here now, that's all that matters."
Jinhee's heart clenched. He didn't know. He didn't know what kind of trouble he was in, how much pain they were both carrying.
But there was no time for that now.
She glanced back at the group of people surrounding them, sensing the danger still looming. "We're leaving," she said, more firmly now, her protective instincts kicking in. She wrapped an arm around Jihoon's waist, guiding him away from the bar, ignoring the jeers and laughter from those still watching.
Jinhee's heart pounded in her chest as she held Jihoon up, his body swaying slightly as they stumbled away from the bar. She looked at Jihoon's face, noticing how pale he looked. His breathing seemed shallow, and his hand tightened on her arm as he gasped for air.
"Jihoon? Jihoon, what's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling. Panic was rising in her chest, but she tried to keep her tone steady. He looked at her with hazy eyes, the confusion in his gaze clear.
"Jinhee... I..." He coughed, the sound ragged. His face was flushed, and sweat dotted his forehead as his chest heaved with each labored breath.
Suddenly, his hand shot up, gesturing for her to listen. "Epipen... pills... in my home..."
She froze for a second, her heart skipping a beat. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. His Allergy. He was having an allergic reaction to the wine. But she didn't know what to do — she had no experience with this kind of thing.
"We need to go to the hospital!" she panicked, her eyes darting around as if hoping a solution would appear out of thin air. Her breath was coming faster now, her mind racing.
"No hospital," Jihoon whispered hoarsely, his voice weak. He was struggling, trying to steady his breathing, but his words were barely audible. "Home... the Epipen... please."
Jinhee didn't waste another second. She knew his address, so she he grabbed her phone from her pocket, hands shaking as she dialed a taxi service.
"Hurry, please," she muttered to herself as she gave the address. She could feel Jihoon's weight leaning more heavily against her now, his steps becoming slower and more uneven. She knew they didn't have much time.
"Hang in there, Hoon," she whispered, her voice breaking as she held him close. She tried to keep him upright, but his body felt like dead weight. The air seemed thicker now, and each second that passed made her stomach tighten with fear.
The taxi pulled up just in time, and Jinhee helped him into the back seat, holding his trembling hand the entire way. She kept glancing at him, trying to reassure herself that he was still breathing, still with her. She could feel his body growing colder, and her mind raced with worry.
"We're almost there," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, even though she knew he probably couldn't hear her. She was terrified. What if it was too late? What if she couldn't get to him in time?
She clutched his hand tighter, determined not to let go, no matter what.