Chapter Text
A bad omen had to have brushed upon her since her waking hours, Seulgi thought morbidly as she entered the elevator. Or, perhaps it was the work of the butterfly effect: her decision to party— if drinking silently as her study group conversed drunkenly was considered partying — the night before her final that caused her to miss her alarm, and thus miss the exam. (In her anguish, she returned to her dorm and typed out a very heartfelt, circumstantially descriptive e-mail to her professor).
So, to say she wasn’t in the mood to work, let alone single handedly face her boss’s obsession with staying the number one reporting agency in the country, was a severe understatement.
Seulgi stared hard at the ground as the glass elevator rose to the thirty-fifth floor. She approached a mahogany door that sat under a garish, gold-plated sign with the name “Park Yejun” etched into it and attempted to knock thrice. Before the second knock the door swung open, and Yejun’s flustered face almost made Seulgi take a step back.
“You're late,” she ground out, retreating back to her desk. When Seulgi didn’t follow after her she raised an impatient brow. “Going to waste my time even more? Sit.”
Seulgi set her backpack down beside the swivel chair, noting the destructive nature of Yejun’s desk with indifference. It was simply one of those days for both of them— and that’s about as much as Seulgi would sympathize with Yejun. Seulgi sat, but made no move to do anything else; often, she would need instruction beforehand.
A deep breath. Yejun folded her arms over the desk, staring at Seulgi with a fire in her eyes. Seulgi didn’t like this look, she knew well what it meant— something that involved Yejun’s little brother. “Where are they? Show me.”
The fluorescent lights of the office flickered overhead as Seulgi dug through her backpack. She became increasingly nervous the longer they took to find. Her fingers trembled slightly as she smoothed out the creases in the corners of the prints, because it was unacceptable to give her boss anything but the best, even if it was something as negligible as that.
That’s how Seulgi kept her job at such a popular company after all, being the best at everything she did (even at the expense of her own health).
Soon enough, she slid the stack of photos across Yejun’s desk. The subject of the photos was, admittedly, less than glamorous — an older man in a beige suit, looking exhausted, trudging out of a building with a cup of coffee in hand. Nothing too exciting. Just another rich man— a shareholder for J-Medical Center, to be specific— caught in the daily grind. A shareholder that admittedly gave Seulgi nothing to work with. Why had she been assigned to him in the first place? But Seulgi had hoped it would be enough to appease Yejun, to keep her from demanding something even more odd.
Yejun didn’t even glance at the photos before her lips curled into a disappointed frown. The sharp, professional exterior she always wore melted away into something much colder. Her eyes locked onto Seulgi and for a moment, Seulgi felt the weight of the unspoken tension between them.
“This?” Yejun’s voice was a razor-sharp whisper. “This is what you bring me?”
Seulgi winced. “He doesn’t have a very active lifestyle… I could only follow his day to day activities to stay inclusive. I was fortunate to get an interview though, but nothing of interest came from it.” And he was a pain to get quotes from. A man twice her age flirting with her . Fuck those quotes. He was as tight lipped about the medical center as his pants.
Yejun scoffed, rolling her eyes as she flipped through the photos. “You really think anyone cares about an old man with coffee, Seulgi? These might as well be family reunion pictures. They’re boring. Completely forgettable. Do you want to keep your job, or are you trying to get yourself buried in mediocrity?”
The ‘ I expected more from you’ hung in the air.
Seulgi frowned, shifting in her chair. “I’m sorry. I thought I could get something more.”
Expectations, boulders on her shoulders.
“I’m not paying you to ‘think,’” Yejun snapped, tossing the photos aside. “I need something that’ll make headlines. A story that’ll make people’s jaws drop. Something that’ll give my brother’s company a bloody nose. If he gets behind the secrets of J-Medical before me…”
Seulgi began to slouch, her stomach churning.
Heavy. Expectations .
Yejun’s rivalry with her brother’s company had been an ongoing battle, and Seulgi had been caught in the middle for months now. Ever since she completed a panel that boosted their views on the media— ‘you’re the one’ Yejun had said. Seulgi had hoped this assignment might’ve been a simple, low-key task, a fail safe in case Yejun couldn’t find anything else, but it was clear her boss expected more information from this shareholder.
Yejun leaned forward, her expression shifting from frustration to calculation. There was a glint in her eye that irritated Seulgi. A headache began to point at the front of her skull. “You’re going to investigate the mess at J Medical Center. You know, the scandal with the soon-to-be former CEO. Word around town is there’s a lot of medical negligence, shady practices, and maybe even some criminal activity hiding behind those sterile walls. Has to be why his daughter is taking over, to turn eyes away from his wrongdoings so they can cover it up quickly. Get me dirt. Get me proof.”
Seulgi blinked, taken aback. “The CEO of J Medical? But... that’s huge. We’re talking about malpractice. That’s not just a few bad photos... I’d have to get deep into their files, maybe interview former employees— dig through records. It could take months .”
Such a task would interfere with her education.
Yejun’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Then get to work, Seulgi. I don’t want to hear excuses. This is what’ll blow the lid off everything. Find the smoking gun, and we’ll be the ones on the front page. This could ruin them. And if it gets messy, well… that’s exactly what I’m paying you for, isn’t it? A big catch deserves a big prize.”
Prize .
Seulgi sat frozen, her mind racing. She wasn’t prepared for a story like this, but she could see the fire in her boss’s eyes. This was her chance—if she could pull it off. The word rang in Seulgi’s ears, bouncing off the walls of her brain. The prize: money that could be put towards her tuition, that could convince her step-mother to let go of the burden of paying for it.
Seulgi bit her cheek, her gaze meeting the eagerness in Yejun’s eyes. She sighed, then stood up and grabbed her bag. Opening the door, she turned around, bowing her head. “I’ll do my best. But it’s going to take time.”
“I will give you enough time. Just make it happen,” Yejun replied, already dismissing her. “I expect results. Don’t come back empty-handed this time.”
A silent threat hung in the air. Failure costs her her job, success earns her money.
Seulgi was a gambler.
.
Blue light was of no concern for Seulgi right now. As soon as her 7 PM lecture ended, she rushed to her desk at home. A fresh shower and solo dinner later, she sat at her small desk in front of the window, pulling open the laptop she was able to rent from the university. It was quiet when her stepmother wasn’t home.
Research was always the most challenging, and she had to hope the search engine gave her the more accurate sources at the top, lest she go down a rabbit hole.
There had been rumors circulating about the center’s prosperity being built on more than just cutting-edge medicine, and top-notch employees, not to mention their attention to helping strong students pass the Korean Medical license Exam, and now it was her job to dig deep and bring back something worth publishing. She knew the usual game—lawsuits, malpractice cases, financial discrepancies, anything that could spark a scandal. But today, as the clock ticked, Seulgi felt the weight of her task pressing against her.
If there was something out there, she’d be lucky to find it buried in police reports and lawsuits. She would have to spend treacherous hours reading them. When one has money, they have influence. When they have influence, they can cover up just about anything— or pay off anyone.
Hours later, her fingers (still) hovered over the mouse, ready to click on another long list of court cases, when something caught her eye. An article on a gossip site—nothing too reputable, but it was the headline that made her pause: "The Heiress of J-Medical Center: Daughter of Yoo Taejun at the Center of a Growing Mystery." Seulgi clicked without hesitation, her curiosity piqued.
The article was a brief profile of Dr. Yoo’s daughter, Yoo Jaeyi, covering her recent re-entrance to the public eye. She had been a regular feature on social media, part of the family’s PR machine, until she vanished from the public spotlight for months, only to appear when it looked like the center could potentially close. Rumors swirled that she was dealing with a "personal crisis" or "family issues," to being on a “medical retreat” or that she “found love”, but nothing concrete. The article speculated about a possible rift between Jaeyi and her father, especially after Dr. Yoo’s controversial involvement in a string of unnaturally high-stake surgeries that had raised some eyebrows. Seoul's top doctor failing to save influential patients. The blatant disappearance of his first born and his rocky marriage.
He stays faithful to religion… I’ll give him that.
As Seulgi dug deeper into the medical center's founding history and the mysterious heiress, Seulgi’s mind began to race. The daughter was her age, more approachable, and clearly had access to the kind of information that might shed light on the family’s secrets— if she was willing to share it. If she could get close to Jaeyi, maybe she could unravel the web surrounding her father. Of course, Seulgi would still need to keep tabs on Yoo Taejun himself, but this felt like the easier route. A softer entry.
(Right.)
She bookmarked the article and opened a new tab, researching Jaeyi’s past relationships, her social circles, anything that could give her a way in. Seulgi knew she couldn’t waste time—she needed to find Jaeyi’s routine, her public appearances, and figure out where to strike. If she played her cards right, she could gain trust, all the while getting the insider scoop she needed. After all, if she was going to uncover something that would make the headlines, it would be easier to do it through the daughter than the CEO himself. But if the opportunity to confront Dr. Yoo directly ever presented itself—Seulgi would be ready.
One thing in particular stood out: Jaeyi’s high school. This, because it was familiar to Seulgi— she attended there. For a short while. Her grades had declined for a period too long, according to her teacher, after the death of her father, not to mention the bullying .
It was surprising Seulgi had no recollection of the name Yoo Jaeyi, considering all the woman’s accomplishments under her belt. Perhaps she was just that forgettable, or Seulgi’s only focus was her grades. She barely had any friends by the end of the year.
Or, none that were memorable. Seulgi felt uncomfortable thinking about it, and the longer she did the weirder her body responded. A headache ; pain in her chest; confusion clouding. Voices? A blur, she decided.
That was all it was.
It was only when her eyes began to slip closed that she knew she reached a point where the energy drinks were ineffective. To her right, a small storage container held medication , powerful pills that she shouldn’t have access to, but aided her greatly in her studies and with her ADHD. To the left, health vitamins and gummies her friend had given her after an excruciating lecture on taking care of health. Chewing on her lips, Seulgi thought about popping a pill. She was becoming distracted, and the lack of sleep was making a five-word sentence seem like it was one word.
Instead, she stood up and slapped her cheeks, pacing the room for a few minutes. It was going to be a long night, and she refused to waste any medication on something that could be fixed with a little activity.
With a refreshed mind, she sat back down. Seulgi simply had to think . Focus.
Yes, that's it. Just— a thud.
Endless waves, calm and thundering all at once.
A vast expanse of deep blues and frothy whites. The scent of saltwater filling her senses. The sound of seagulls, their caws mixing with the whoosh of the breeze that carried a cool, refreshing spray of water against her skin.
Water lapped at her toes. So wet and cold, that she jumped up from her chair— except, there was no chair. She fell backwards and landed on damp, cool sand. The ocean captivated her.
There was something comforting about it, the rhythm of its ebb and flow. It was as if the waves were gently lulling her into a state of peace—soothing (like the feeling of being in her mother’s womb), suspended in safety, untouched by the harshness of the world. A Place where she could forget the weight of her responsibilities, where the constant movement of water washed them all away.
But as much as the ocean seemed to offer her solace, it couldn’t quite erase the fragments of reality that clung to her. Faces swirled around her in the mist of the ocean breeze— People she should have known, people who have meant something to her once. Yet, their faces were blurred and out of reach, like they were hidden beneath the water’s surface, just beyond her grasp. She couldn’t recall their names, their voices, or any of the moments they’d shared. And the more she tried to focus on them, the more they seemed to slip further away. It was as if the ocean itself was holding those memories captive, washing them out to sea where she couldn’t find them.
Seulgi’s heart tightened, and she could feel the ache in her chest again. The waves crashed against the shore with an intensity that mirrored the turmoil inside her. Was she just as forgettable as the people she couldn’t remember?
The sound of the ocean grew louder, the seagulls’ cries sharper, until it became overwhelming. The water began to rise, over the sand, creeping up her legs, pulling her further into the sea. Panic surged through her, but she didn’t fight it. She somehow knew it was a dream. She let the cold water engulf her, sinking deeper into the ocean’s embrace. It was in this moment, as she descended into the vast, dark expanse, that she felt a strange sense of release, as though she was captured in a hug.
Suddenly, a sharp shaking broke through the serenity of the dream. Seulgi’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented, the distant sound of the ocean still lingering in her ears. Her stepmother’s voice pierced through the fog of her subconscious, her hand on Seulgi’s shoulder. “Seulgi,” she said softly, shaking her again. “Wake up.” The reality of her bedroom, her face on the desk, hit her like a rush of cold air, and the dream—the peace of the ocean, the confusion of forgotten faces— disappeared.
Seulgi sat up slowly, her stepmother sighing next to her. “You shouldn’t fall asleep at your desk.”
Seulgi just groaned in response.