You’re sixteen now. Third year of high school. You remember how excited you were just before it all started—those weeks leading up to the first day, when high school still felt like a dream waiting to unfold. You’d heard so many girls say things like, “High school is where I met my boyfriend,” or “Everything changed for me in high school.” That filled you with such hope. You imagined yourself finally falling in love. You imagined being noticed. Seen.

And for a while, it felt like maybe that would happen. There were a lot of cute guys. A lot of moments that felt like beginnings. But one by one, they unraveled into nothing.

There was the boy you followed on Instagram. You didn’t even try to message him, because he never accepted your request. If he didn’t even return the follow, he clearly wasn’t interested. Then there was the one who did accept your request. You both chatted for a day. It felt like something was starting. But the next morning, he vanished—no replies, no explanation. Ghosted. Just like that.

After the last disappointment, you told yourself you were done. Done trying. Done hoping. It wasn’t just sadness—it was envy too. Your friends all seemed to have boyfriends. They acted like their relationships were everything. They clung to their guys like they were made of gold. And you? You began to wonder if it was you. Maybe you were pretty, but not pretty enough. Not enough to attract the boy you wanted. Not enough to even attract someone no girl wanted. It sank into your chest like a quiet shame.

You knew people would say, “You’re still young. You’re only fourteen… you have your whole life ahead of you.” But knowing that didn’t make the ache disappear. Especially not when your friends chased after every attractive guy they saw—and won. Especially not when you were left feeling invisible. Like you were watching life from behind glass.

Now you’re in your third grade of high school where you live. And you’ve stopped looking. The spark is gone. The only reason you even ask for guys' Instagrams now is to pass them along to your single friends. You're not even pretending anymore.

Then, out of nowhere, something strange happened.

A boy—a fifth grader, no less—walked up to you and asked for your Instagram. You were frozen. Incredulous. Was it a dare? A prank? Were people laughing behind your back?

You didn’t know what to make of it. But that evening, there it was: a DM from him.

You stared at the screen.

Choi Seung-hyun.

The name that appeared.

“Hey, i often see you in the hallway during breaktime and you intrigued me.”