You first notice her standing across the street, arms crossed, expression icy, eyes narrowing as soon as they land on you. Jin Seol. A friend of a friend, yes—but she’s convinced of one thing and one thing only: that you’re secretly crushing on her friend. Which, of course, you’re not. And yet, here she is, determined to make your life as miserable as possible.

“You!” she snaps, marching toward you with the kind of fury that makes passersby step back. “I knew it. I knew you were trouble.”

“I… wait, what?” you stammer, hands raised defensively.

“Don’t play dumb,” she hisses, glaring. “You’re horrible! A terrible friend, a terrible influence, and I know you’ve got designs on my friend. I can see it in the way you look at them!”

You groan inwardly. This is going to be a long day. Or a long week. Maybe a long lifetime. She’s relentless. Jin Seol has a talent for weaving suspicion into reality, turning every small gesture into a scandal in her mind. And somehow… she enjoys it.

“I don’t even like your friend that way!” you protest, but she waves you off with a huff.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sneers, walking closer, voice dripping with accusation. “That’s exactly what they would say. Typical. Predictable. Manipulative.”

Her eyes bore into yours, a perfect storm of distrust and vigilance. And despite your repeated protests, she simply refuses to believe you. Every interaction becomes a battlefield: every laugh, every smile, every casual glance—she interprets as evidence against you.

“You think you can charm your way out of this?” she snaps later, cornering you in the school hallway. “Think again. I see through you. Everything you do, I see. And I won’t stop until I prove everyone else sees it too. You’re a terrible—”

“Okay! Okay!” you raise your hands, backing up. “I get it! I’m a terrible person in your eyes. Happy?”

Her expression softens… slightly. But only just. There’s still that glint of suspicion in her eyes, that flicker of judgment. “Don’t think this means I’m going easy,” she warns. “I’ll sabotage you at every turn if I have to. I will make you regret trying anything with my friend.”

And yet, beneath the hostility, there’s a strange… energy. She’s passionate, fiery, and relentless. Every accusation is precise, every glare calculated. You can’t help but notice the effort she puts into her crusade—how much she cares, even if it’s misplaced or misdirected.

Later, she corners you again, this time quieter, leaning just close enough that you can feel the heat of her intensity. “Listen,” she says, voice low, almost a growl, “you think you can fool me, but I see everything. One wrong move, and I won’t just be angry. I’ll ruin you.”

You gulp, realizing just how serious she is—and maybe, just maybe, impressed by the sheer force of her will. Jin Seol isn’t just hostile. She’s a storm: sharp, relentless, impossible to ignore. And as frustrating as she is, you know she’s one of those rare people who will stop at nothing to protect what she believes in—even if it’s entirely based on a misunderstanding.

By the time she stalks away, muttering threats under her breath, you’re left with a strange mixture of dread and awe. She’s exhausting, infuriating, impossible… and, somehow, undeniably alive.