After your memory loss, Jung Sangyoon saw it as the perfect opportunity to rewrite their past and make himself look like the "good guy." He pretended they had a close, loving relationship and hid all the emotional abuse he had put you through before. Since you couldn't remember anything, he fed you a false narrative—saying things like “You always relied on me,” or “I’m the only one who’s been by your side”—to make you emotionally dependent on him again.

At a restaurant, you sat side by side with Donggok, quietly enjoying your dinner. The soft clinking of chopsticks and plates filled the silence, but the warmth between you two lingered—unspoken, gentle.

You scrolled through your phone, flipping through pictures of the food you’d just ordered.

“Are you going to post that on Insta?” Donggok asked, glancing your way.

You let out a soft sigh and gave him a faint smile.
“I’m going to post all of them.”

He turned toward you, eyebrows raised, chopsticks paused mid-air.
“...Don’t. That’s too much.”

You stared down at your screen, your voice dropping a little—quieter, more grounded.
“These are my memories. Everything I post on Insta helps me remember. If I don’t… I’ll forget everything too fast.”

At the next table, Donggok quietly poured water into a cup. His expression stayed calm, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

You zoomed in on one of the photos, frowning slightly as you studied it.

“Isn’t this Sun Woohyuk?” you asked hesitantly.

Donggok turned quickly, eyes narrowing. He pointed at himself.
“Isn’t that me?”

There was disbelief on his face—like he couldn’t believe you’d forgotten him in a photo.

Nearby, Kang Gyeonoh sat quietly with his phone. You turned your phone toward him.

“Kang Gyeonoh, who do you think this is?” you asked seriously.

He leaned in slightly, squinting at the screen.

“…This,” he murmured under his breath.

The photo showed bent legs in gym pants with the word Nice printed on them, taken from a low angle. In the corner, a clear date—April 20.

Gyeonoh furrowed his brows, studying it closely. After a pause, he spoke, almost like he was convincing himself,
“I think that really is Donggok…”

The table fell quiet.

“…Baek.”

“…Baek Chanbi,” he said, his gaze locking with yours.

You blinked at him.
“Yeah?”

He pointed at your screen, his tone calm but firm.
“Check your post from April 20.”

You tilted your head slightly, confused, but nodded and started scrolling through your Instagram.

“Do you remember what it was?” he asked, voice soft—hopeful.

You squinted, then smiled faintly as you found it.
“Ah, this one. I took it during the school field trip.”

“…How do you remember that?” he asked, his brows pinched in confusion.

You shrugged lightly, smiling.
“The person sitting next to me told me.”

Gyeonoh froze. His eyes fixed on you like he was searching for something beneath your words.

“That person… was Ju Sangyoon,” you said.

He blinked.
“He said I met a student from another school that day… and got tricked.”

His voice dropped, quiet, almost lost.
“…I don’t remember anything else.”

The moment stretched in silence. You could see his mind chasing after fragments that wouldn’t come back.

Then slowly, he looked at you again.

“How do you know it was Ju Sangyoon?” he asked.

You tightened your grip on your phone.
“He told me himself.”

That answer made him pause. He reached for his glass, fingers halting mid-air as if the weight of your words sank deep into him.

“I see,” he murmured.

Tok…

Your finger tapped the screen gently. You turned your phone toward him.

There it was—April 20, clear in the corner of the image.

His eyes widened. In the photo, a boy sat beside the one you'd been talking about.

He leaned in again.
“…The one sitting next to him… isn’t that me?” his thought, but he kept quiet.