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1. Not Quite Lovers
Youngseo and Woochan weren’t dating.
But ask anyone in school, and they’d say otherwise.
They had something. That invisible string that pulled them toward each other — late-night texts, accidental hand brushes, unspoken feelings held in sideways glances and too-long silences.
“You look like a sad indie movie today,” Woochan teased, leaning beside her locker.
She rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You look like you skipped sleep for two days.”
“Because I was busy editing that video you begged me for.”
“I didn’t beg.”
“You sent three crying emojis.”
“That’s not begging,” she said, bumping his shoulder. “That’s emotional manipulation. It’s different.”
He laughed, and it echoed in her chest.
But it never went beyond that. No confessions. No kisses. Just a lot of “almosts.”
2. New Girl, New Rules
Annie arrived halfway through the semester, riding in a glossy black BMW with a personal driver and a Prada backpack she didn’t even zip properly.
Her dad was something high up in tech. Her mom was rumored to have been an actress. Either way, Annie had connections, money, and something else Youngseo didn’t — confidence that came from never being told “no.”
Woochan met her at a group project meeting. She complimented his voice. He laughed. She offered him tickets to a music showcase. He accepted.
“You're hanging with the new girl now?” Youngseo asked him a few days later, trying to sound casual. She hated how light her voice came out, like tissue paper.
“Annie’s chill. She’s into photography too,” he replied, shrugging. “We vibe.”
That word. Vibe. It felt like a knife.
Youngseo laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Cool. You two can go vibe in matching outfits.”
He didn’t respond.
3. The Shift
The texts slowed down. The 1 a.m. voice notes stopped. He started posting photos from Annie’s house — rooftop pool, skyline views, designer ramen bowls plated like Michelin meals.
Meanwhile, Youngseo studied in cafés with her budget iced Americano and a heart that got heavier each time she refreshed his feed.
Woonhak noticed.
He was in her chemistry class. A little awkward, wore mismatched socks, but always smiled like it was sincere.
“You okay?” he asked one day, handing her a pen when hers died mid-quiz.
She blinked. “What? Yeah. Just tired.”
“You look like someone took your favorite hoodie and never gave it back.”
She smiled faintly. “Something like that.”
4. Trying to Move On
Woonhak started walking with her after class. Not in a clingy way — in a present way. He noticed things no one else did.
“You talk fast when you’re anxious,” he said once. “I think it’s cute.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I’d like to.”
And she let him.
They watched a movie together — some dumb rom-com. He laughed too loud. She pretended not to look at her phone every ten minutes to see if Woochan texted.
He didn’t.
Woonhak reached out and gently held her hand. She didn’t pull away. But she didn’t lean in either.
5. The Lie
It came late on a Friday night. A DM. From a burner account.
you should know. woochan’s been calling you desperate behind your back. he told ppl you were obsessed.
“pathetic” was his word. lmao.
Youngseo stared at the message, blinking fast. She didn’t even realize she’d started crying until a tear hit her phone screen.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t sleep.
The next day, she blocked Woochan. Deleted their old messages. Hid his hoodie in the back of her closet.
6. Confrontation
Woochan found her on campus near the vending machines the next week.
“Yo, did I do something?” he asked, brows furrowed. “Why’d you block me?”
She didn’t look at him. “Ask Annie. Maybe she can DM me what you really think.”
“What?”
She finally turned. Her face was a storm.
“I saw what you said. I read it. Just tell me you meant it so I can delete you for real.”
“I didn’t say sh—what are you talking about?”
“That I’m desperate. Pathetic. Obsessed.”
Woochan’s mouth parted. He looked genuinely shocked. “Youngseo, I never said that. I would never.”
She laughed, bitter. “Then I guess the lies sound more believable than you do.”
She walked away. He didn’t follow.
7. Falling Harder
Youngseo let Woonhak kiss her under the cherry blossoms the next week.
It was soft. Sweet. Simple.
But it didn’t feel like fire. It didn’t make her hands tremble or her breath catch.
She kissed him back because she wanted it to work. She wanted to forget Woochan. She wanted something quiet, something safe.
But her heart wasn’t cooperating.
8. The Truth Unfolds
Woochan found out during gym.
“Yo, Jae said you called Youngseo pathetic?” one of the guys asked him during warm-ups.
Woochan froze. “What?”
“Yeah. Someone showed her a message or something. She cried, dude. It was bad.”
His stomach dropped. Annie. It had to be.
He confronted her after school, finding her in the parking lot scrolling TikTok in the passenger seat of her car.
“You messaged her, didn’t you?”
Annie blinked. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. You faked that account. You made it look like I said all that sh*t.”
Silence.
Then: “I knew you weren’t over her. You still look at her like she hung the stars.”
“So you lied? To hurt her?”
“You were slipping away. I just… stopped the fall.”
Woochan stepped back. “You ruined everything.”
“No,” Annie said coldly. “You ruined everything by never choosing.”
9. Letting Go
Woochan ended things with Annie that night. Blocked her. Deleted every picture. Sat alone in his room listening to a voice note from Youngseo from three months ago.
“I wish we weren’t such cowards. You feel it too, right? This thing between us?”
He closed his eyes.
He still had her voice saved. He never deleted her contact. Never unfollowed her.
And now, she hated him for something he didn’t do.
10. Goodbye, Woonhak
Woonhak met her under the trees behind the school building — their usual spot.
“You’ve been somewhere else lately,” he said, holding his hands behind his back.
“I know,” she whispered.
He didn’t look mad. Just… sad.
“I really liked you, Youngseo. Like, in a way that scared me. But I think… you’ve always belonged to someone else.”
She blinked back tears. “I wanted to like you more. I tried.”
“I know. That’s what hurts the most.”
He smiled anyway. And hugged her.
11. Rooftop Redux
Woochan texted her once. Just one line.
Rooftop. 6PM.
She almost didn’t go. Almost. But the ache in her chest was louder than her pride.
She found him standing in the same spot they always used to meet. Wind rustled his hair. The city buzzed far below.
He turned as she stepped into the light.
“I didn’t send that message,” he said, no preamble. “Annie did. Because I was still in love with you.”
Her heart skipped.
“I never said those things. I still had your voice notes. I still checked your stories. I still…”
He trailed off. Looked at her like she was both salvation and punishment.
“You hurt me,” she whispered. “You left me wondering if I ever mattered.”
“I know,” he said, voice breaking. “And I’m sorry. I was scared. I kept waiting for the perfect moment. But we kept skipping each other.”
Silence.
Then:
“You can’t just come back and expect everything to fall into place.”
“I don’t,” he said. “But I want to start somewhere.”
He reached out. Held her pinky.
Small. Soft. Symbolic.
“Can we try?”
12. Aftermath
They didn’t announce anything. No couple pics. No new bios. Just two people who started walking to class together again. Sharing headphones. Laughing a little more.
People whispered. Annie glared. Woonhak moved on, holding hands with a girl from art club who made him mixtapes.
Youngseo found Woochan waiting for her at the bus stop one rainy morning.
“You always had an umbrella and never shared,” she teased.
“That was my toxic trait,” he said, holding it over her head.
She smiled, stepping closer.
13. Almost Was, Now Is
Back on the rooftop, months later. Graduation behind them. College letters unopened. Future uncertain.
Woochan played music from his phone. Soft R&B. Familiar.
“You remember when we first came up here?” she asked.
“You said I looked like a sleep-deprived squirrel.”
She laughed.
“I think I was in love with you back then,” she whispered.
“I know I was.”
They looked at each other. Eyes full of all the things they never said.
And this time, she leaned in first.
They weren’t perfect. But they weren’t ‘almost’ anymore, either.