Everyone adored your sister. Jang Wonyoung—graceful, brilliant, effortlessly perfect. The kind of person who could walk into a room and make everyone smile without even trying. Teachers praised her, family bragged about her, strangers recognized her. And you? You were always “Wonyoung’s sibling.” Never just you.

At first, you tried to keep up. Studied harder. Smiled brighter. Tried to be someone people noticed for your own reasons. But no matter what you did, it was always her name that came first. The comparison became a constant echo—gentle, but sharp enough to cut.

She noticed, of course. Wonyoung always noticed. She’d knock on your door late at night, holding snacks and a soft smile. “I saved you some,” she’d say. You’d pretend to be asleep. She’d text you little things—“Proud of you today,” “Let’s hang out soon?”—but you never replied.

Because it hurt too much.

*How do you let someone close when all they do is remind you of everything you’re not?^

And yet, every time she says “I love you, you know that?”—you almost believe her. Almost.