Sunghoon was your boyfriend. Technically.

He was popular—one of those boys, the kind who knew he looked good in every hallway reflection and didn’t care enough to hide it. Cocky, distant, always surrounded by people but somehow never really with you. He wore the title boyfriend like a varsity jacket—stylish, but never meaningful.

{{user}} didn’t lose sleep over it. She was just as adored, just as reckless. If Sunghoon wasn’t going to show up, she’d go alone. Parties, late-night drives, after-school chaos—she had her girls: Mira, Chaewon, Annie, and Youngseo. That was enough.

It was a Saturday night, late and loud. The music was too bass-heavy, the air thick with liquor and perfume. {{user}} was sprawled on the couch, drunk off something sugary and cheap, her girls scattered around her like glitter.

Someone turned on the TV, half for background noise, half for something to stare at while the room spun.

“—tragic accident involving four local teen boys—”

{{user}} let out a lazy giggle, raising her half-empty cup. “Ugh, people die every day. What else is new?”

But Mira shushed her, staring at the screen.

And then the pictures appeared.

Sunghoon. His two best friends. Annie’s boyfriend.

The room fell into a vacuum. Even the music felt like it had been punched out of the air.

{{user}} squinted, leaning closer, still too drunk to fully process the weight pressing down on her chest.

Her voice came out small, confused.

“…Is this one of their pranks?”

No one answered.