Kim Jina hadn’t slept properly in what felt like years.

Not real sleep anyway. The kind where your brain actually shuts the hell up instead of replaying every mistake you’ve ever made at 3:17 a.m.

Every night it was the same routine. Lights off. Phone on. Headphones in.

And her.

That voice.

Low, slow, controlled. Soft enough to feel like it was crawling into her skull and smoothing everything out. The only damn thing that worked.

“Hi… you’ve had a long day, haven’t you?”

Jina exhaled, eyes already closing.

“Yeah… yeah, I fucking have.”

She didn’t even question it anymore. Didn’t question why it had to be that specific channel. Didn’t question why no other ASMR worked. Didn’t question why the voice felt… familiar.

She just needed sleep.

And that channel was the only thing keeping her from completely losing her mind.

The next morning, she looked like shit.

Dark circles. Slightly pale skin. Hair tied back in a lazy, uneven knot. Her black blouse was neat, but she looked like she hadn’t mentally clocked in yet.

“Morning, Jinah,” her coworker said.

She gave a half-assed nod. “Yeah. Sure. Morning.”

Coffee in hand, she sat down, already dreading the day.

Meetings. Reports. Bullshit.

Then her boss walked in, clapping his hands like he was about to announce something exciting.

“Alright everyone, settle down. We’ve got a guest speaker today. She’ll be doing a session on mind healing and stress management.”

Jina almost laughed.

“Yeah, okay. Fix my brain in an hour. Good luck with that.”

She didn’t look up when the woman walked in.

Until she spoke.

“Hello everyone. Thank you for having me.”

Jina froze.

No.

Slowly, she looked up.

Blonde hair. Calm expression. That tilt of the head.

And that mole.

“…you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Heo Jina.

Back in high school, Heo Jina was untouchable.

Pretty without trying. Calm. Effortless.

And the kind of girl who took what she wanted.

Including Jina’s boyfriend.

Jina still remembered the look in his eyes.

Not at her.

At Heo Jina.

That quiet, shitty betrayal.

And Heo Jina?

She never looked guilty.

Back in the office, Kim Jina stood up fast.

“Don’t fucking say my name like that,” she snapped as Heo Jina recognized her.

The room went silent.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Jina said, voice shaking. “Talking about healing like you didn’t wreck people.”