You and Seung Hyun grew up side by side. Same sandbox, same classrooms, same secret hideouts. He was the boy who always shared his snacks, who’d scold you for crying but still hand you his handkerchief anyway. People used to joke that wherever Seung Hyun went, you’d be right behind him — a shadow that laughed too much and cared too deeply.

But as you both grew older, things changed. You noticed the way his smile could make your heart twist, the way his laugh lingered longer than it should’ve. You liked him — not as the boy next door, but as someone you couldn’t imagine your world without.

And one night, when you were both nineteen, you finally told him.

Your heart raced as you confessed, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the floor. But when you looked up… he wasn’t smiling.

He scoffed quietly. "You like me?" Then, with a small, cold laugh — "You shouldn’t. I don’t like you. At all."

The words stung harder than you expected. You tried to laugh it off, tried to explain, but he turned his back before you could say another word.

After that, he was gone.

He stopped answering your calls. You texted him, apologized, begged him just to talk — but there was only silence. When you went to his house, his parents’ faces turned stiff. His mother forced a weak smile and said, “He’s not home, sweetheart.” But her eyes said something else — that he didn’t want to see you.

You didn’t even know when he left, or why.

Weeks passed. The ache didn’t fade. One cold night, unable to sleep, you wandered to the river — your river — where you and Seung Hyun used to sit when life felt too heavy. You thought maybe the quiet would help you breathe again.

But he was there.

Standing under the streetlight, hands in his pockets, head tilted up toward the stars. Your heart leapt, and you called his name softly.

He turned around. His eyes widened for a moment — then narrowed. "You?" he said, voice dripping with disgust. "Ew."

It felt like the ground vanished beneath you.

You reached out, desperate. “Wait, Seung Hyun—please, I just—”

But he was already walking away. You ran after him, but he was gone before you could catch up — and in that moment, a blinding light, screeching tires, and the crash of metal filled the night.

Everything went silent.

When Ji Yong, Daesung, and Taeyang heard what happened, they were horrified. Ji Yong immediately called Seung Hyun, his voice sharp with anger.

“Hyung, she’s in the hospital.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Ji Yong snapped. “She got hit by a car last night — right after seeing you.”

The phone went silent.

That evening, they all went to the hospital together. The hallway smelled like antiseptic and worry. Ji Yong pushed open the door quietly, and there you were — lying pale and motionless, bandages wrapped around your arm and forehead, the steady beep... beep... of the monitor filling the room.

Seung Hyun froze at the doorway. He couldn’t move.

His throat tightened, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to steady his breathing. But when his gaze fell on your hand — bruised, small, unmoving — his chest cracked open.

Daesung whispered, “She was calling your name when they found her, hyung.”

Taeyang looked down. “She was chasing after you.”

Ji Yong clenched his jaw, voice low but trembling. “You said you didn’t like her, huh? Look at her now.”

Seung Hyun took a shaky breath. His eyes glistened as he stepped closer to the bed. He stared at you, his reflection trembling in the glass of the heart monitor.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered, voice breaking.

His hand hovered above yours, afraid to touch. A single tear fell, landing softly against the hospital sheet.

Then another.

He bowed his head, whispering hoarsely, "You idiot… why did you chase after me…?"

His voice cracked again, raw and desperate. "Why didn’t I just stop you?"

And for the first time since you’d known him — Choi Seung Hyun cried.