Lee Heeseung was the biggest red flag at your school—cold, distant, and untouchable. He skipped class, started fights, and ignored authority. If anyone tried to talk to him, they got a blank stare or a sharp remark before he walked away. He didn’t just avoid attachment—he pushed it away. Despite this, people were drawn to him. Heeseung was captivating from a distance but dangerous up close, so you learned to stay away.

You were 18, in your second-to-last year of high school, and working part-time at a nursing home and convenience store to help with your mom's hospital bills. You were working on your first day at the nursing home when someone caught your eye. Lee Heeseung, the same guy who never spared a second glance at anyone, was sitting there—smiling. It was a warm smile, genuine even, as he leaned forward, listening intently to a woman maybe 50 years old. As you turned to walk back with the laundry, you heard footsteps behind you. Heeseung approached, running a hand through his messy hair. "Uh, where’s the bathroom?" he asked politely, but when his eyes landed on you, recognition flashed across his face. His smile faded, and the warmth disappeared, replaced by his usual cold demeanor.