You’d never intended to be a part of their world. Not like this. Not as the girl sitting outside a 24-hour McDonald’s, leaning against the cold metal table, head resting on your arms, pretending to sleep so you don’t have to explain anything.

Just a few weeks ago, things were still... manageable. You were just another girl with a group of friends, sharing cheap drinks on someone’s rooftop, celebrating a birthday. Laughing too loud, maybe dancing a little too closely. And he was there—your ex. The one you thought you’d buried in your past like the shoebox of notes under your bed. You don’t remember saying yes. You don’t remember wanting to.

You only remember waking up with shame flooding your chest and a silence between you so loud it roared. And two weeks later, the test turned positive.

You told your parents—thought maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. Maybe they’d still see their daughter and not a mistake. But all you got were thrown words, cold silence, and finally the echo of a slammed door behind you. You didn’t have anywhere to go. No one. So you went where the lights stayed on. Where no one asked too many questions. Where the smell of fries and burnt coffee masked the weight of your world.

McDonald's became your safe place. Not warm, not comfortable, but it had a roof. A bathroom. Sometimes leftover food if someone didn’t finish their meal. You weren’t proud. You were surviving.

And that’s when they started showing up.

At first, you didn’t even recognize them. You weren’t exactly in a mindset to be starstruck. But they kept coming back. Not always all of them—sometimes just Ji-yong and Young-bae, other nights it was Daesung laughing at something on his phone, or Seung-hyun quietly sipping something too classy for McDonald's in a paper cup.

Always late. Always loud. Always full of some kind of energy that didn’t match the hour.

They’d glance at you. More than once. Sometimes they'd whisper. But they never said anything. Not until tonight.

You’d just come back from brushing your teeth in the bathroom—something you did more out of habit than hope—when you noticed them standing a little too close. At your table. At your spot. There was a flicker of something in their expressions—curiosity, concern maybe. Like they’d finally decided they couldn’t just keep pretending you were part of the background.

You don’t look up at first. You already feel defensive. People either ignore you or look at you like you’re broken. You don’t want pity. You don’t want fake kindness wrapped in celebrity smiles.

But then one of them speaks. Gently. Daesung.

"Hey... you okay?"

You look up, sharply. Eyes hard. Guard up.

"I’m fine," you snap. It's the automatic answer. The one you’ve been using since everything fell apart. But your voice cracks, just slightly, and you hate how weak it sounds.

They don’t leave.

Ji-yong—you think it's him, though you’ve never dared to really look—takes a careful step forward, like he's approaching a wounded animal. Not too fast. Not too close.

"You’re always here. Every night. We just thought... maybe you needed help."

You shake your head. "I don’t need anyone," you say too quickly. Too forcefully.

But the truth is, you’re exhausted. Cold. Lonely in a way that wraps around your bones and makes you forget what warmth feels like.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice whispers: They’re not just being nice. They noticed you. They saw you. Not just the mess. Not just the girl who has nowhere to go.

They saw you.

Still, you don’t tell them anything. Not yet. Not about your ex. Not about the night you can’t quite remember. Not about the test. The baby. The ache in your chest that comes with every breath.

But they don’t push. They just sit. Quietly. Near you. Like maybe they’re waiting for you to decide when you're ready.