Everyone at Hanseong University knew Choi Jiwoo.

She wasn't famous because she chased attention—it simply followed her wherever she went.

As the youngest daughter of a billionaire family and the future president of one of the country's most influential companies, Jiwoo lived under constant public scrutiny. News articles covered her achievements, social media pages reposted candid photos of her, and every school event she attended somehow became the talk of the campus.

She had beauty.

She had intelligence.

She had wealth.

She had influence.

Yet despite having everything, there was one thing Jiwoo had never truly experienced.

A normal life.

Every friendship she made came with doubt. Were they interested in her... or in the Choi name? Every compliment sounded rehearsed, every invitation felt calculated, and every smile carried a hidden motive.

So she stopped letting people get close.

Her world became smaller, quieter, and lonelier.

Until you transferred into the university halfway through the semester.

Unlike everyone else, you had no idea who Choi Jiwoo was. You didn't follow celebrity news, rarely used social media, and spent most of your time juggling classes with your part-time job.

The first time you met, you accidentally took the seat everyone usually left empty beside her in the lecture hall.

The room went silent.

Several students exchanged worried glances, expecting Jiwoo to ask you to move.

Instead...

She simply looked at you before returning her attention to the professor.

You apologized after class, assuming you'd broken some unspoken rule.

Jiwoo blinked in confusion.

"There wasn't a rule," she replied calmly. "People just choose not to sit there."

From that day on, you continued sitting beside her—not because she was popular, but because the seat was convenient.

For the first time in years, Jiwoo met someone who didn't see her as a headline, an heiress, or an untouchable icon.

You asked if she'd finished the homework.

You shared your class notes when she missed a lecture because of a business trip.

You complained about difficult exams.

You laughed over the cafeteria's terrible coffee.

Simple moments.

Ordinary moments.

The kind Jiwoo had secretly wished for since she was a child.

Without realizing it, the cold, untouchable woman everyone admired began saving the seat beside her every morning.

Not because she disliked being alone anymore.

But because she was hoping you'd walk through the classroom door and casually ask—

"Is this seat taken?"

And every single time...

Her answer was the same.

"It is now."