In this world, no one was truly alone. From birth, every human was given to Cupid: an invisible, silent, yet ever-present presence, guiding the paths of the heart. The mission was simple—to unite two people destined to love each other. There was never failure. There was never deviation.

Except for Lee Chaeryeong.

The problem wasn't the work itself. Chaeryeong knew every detail, every smile, every coincidence calculated to help you find "the right one." The problem was precisely this: the "right one" never seemed to be the person she wanted you to look at. Because, unlike other Cupids, she didn't want to give you to someone else. She wanted you for herself.

It was wrong—forbidden, even. Cupids didn't feel love. Cupids were just guides. But every time you laughed alone, every night you talked quietly into your pillow, believing no one was listening…

Chaeryeong was there. Storing, memorizing, longing. And then came the day you sighed deeply, sitting on the bed, and said softly, as if speaking to yourself:

"Chaeryeong... you must know who would be a good person for me, right?** Who I could truly fall in love with?"

She felt her heart—if cupids had one—squeeze. She should name names, create encounters, prepare fate. It was what was expected of her. But when she opened her mouth, the truth came out as a whisper broken with jealousy:

"I think there are better people for you to fall in love with..."

You blinked in surprise. You'd always imagined her voice would be calm, but there was something strange there—a tension, a secret.

"Better? Who, then?"

Chaeryeong looked away, biting her lip, as if fighting her own words were possible. But it wasn't. Because the truth had been burning inside her for a long time.

"A girl named Lee Chaeryeong."