(The theme of this story is dark)
The city moved in a blur outside the tinted glass, streaks of light sliding across's face as she sat quietly in the backseat.
Her gaze was distant, fixed somewhere beyond the passing buildings, as if she were chasing a thought she couldn't quite grasp.
"You shouldn't have talked to her like that," broke the silence, Jain's voice carrying a hint of disapproval.
Nayun slowly turned her head, her eyes sharp. "What do you mean?"
Jain sighed, rubbing his temple.
"You were rude. She didn't say anything that bad, but you reacted like she insulted you."
For a brief moment, the warmth in Nayun's expression vanished completely.
Her voice, once soft, turned cold and distant.
"You know, Jain… I hate chameleons."
He frowned slightly. "Chameleons?"
"They change their colors depending on where they are," she continued, her lips curling into a faint smirk.
"Just like her."
Jain studied her face carefully.
"You're saying she's fake?"
"Not saying," Nayun replied, her tone cutting. "I know."
Her eyes darkened as memories resurfaced. She spoke without looking at him, her voice steady yet filled with quiet bitterness.
"She pretends to care, but she only cares about money. Last time I went to her boutique, she told me. Mr. Leo was a disgusting man… And that he harassed her. She warned me to stay away from him."
Jain remained silent.
"I believed her," Nayun continued.
"I distanced myself from him… and lost work because of it." Her jaw tightened.
"And then, not even a month later, she was at a party—standing beside him, claiming they were dating… looking at me like she'd won some kind of game."
The car fell silent again.
After a moment, Nayun leaned back, her expression shifting as if a mask had slipped back into place.
The coldness faded, replaced by her usual lively tone.
"Anyway," she said lightly, "I need to buy heels, cosmetics, maybe a necklace. Uncle Hwan, take us to Mr. Wayn's and Mrs. Tiara's shops."
Jain glanced at her but said nothing. He had already seen both sides of her—the warmth… and the frost beneath it.
Across the city, inside a luxurious boutique, stood in front of a mirror, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.
A tailor adjusted the measurements while another man approached with a smile.
"You've become even more handsome, Mr. Ziyan," said warmly a man.
"And when Mr. Ryu said that he is coming today… I didn't expect you to come with him."
On a nearby couch, sat comfortably, dressed in blue. Ryu smiled.
"As you know Mr. Klein next month is Mr. Andrew and Mrs. Iu's engagement. So, I thought I'd get a suit—and dragged him along."
Soon, the measurements were done.
"Mr. Ziyan and Mr. Ryu have a coffee with me before you leave" he offered them coffee.
Both Ziyan and Ryu looked at eachother.
"What do you say? You want to stay a bit longer?" Ryu asked.
Ziyan smiled. "Sorry to say Mr. Klein but I don't think I will make it today. I actually have some works to do" he politely rejected the offer.
Mr. Klein just laughed.
"It's quite unfortunate but what else we can do?" He said,
Both of them smiled too and took their stepped out of the boutique.
They then entered a black car parked outside the boutique. Ryu sat on the driving sit and Ziyan sat on the front sit next to the driving sit.
The car ride that followed was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the silence.
"So, what's your plan today?" Ryu asked casually.
"I don't have any," Ziyan replied.
Ryu raised an eyebrow. "Then why refuse coffee?"
Ziyan smiled faintly. "I just didn't feel like it."
There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time.
"Ryu… can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
Ziyan stared out the window, his reflection faint against the glass.
"What is love?"
The question caught Ryu off guard.
But Ziyan wasn't really waiting for an answer.
In his mind, there was only one image
blurred, yet vivid enough to linger. .
Her face.
Her dress.
The bruises.
The pain.
"I think… I might be in love," he admitted softly. "But I'm not sure."
Ryu glanced at him briefly.
"Why the doubt?"
"At first, I only noticed her beauty," Ziyan said. "But now… I worry about her. I can't stop thinking about her. When I see her hurt… it hurts me too."
His voice trembled slightly.
"I thought it was just attraction… but is it?"
Ryu exhaled slowly. "Love isn't simple. Sometimes it starts with looks… but becomes something deeper. Still, think carefully."
Ziyan closed his eyes, remembering her pain
the sound of her voice, the silent suffering she carried.
"Then I guess…" Ryu added, "you should confess."
A bitter smile appeared on Ziyan's lips.
"There's a problem."
Ryu turned his head towards him. "What problem?" He asked curiously.
Ziyan covered his eyes with his hand, his voice heavy.
"She's married."
Meanwhile, in a quiet room bathed in pale light, stood near a window.
Her white dress flowed softly, contrasting with the bruises scattered across her arms and face.
On her bed, a white cat slept peacefully beside an engagement invitation.
Roselia looked at herself in the mirror.
"Why am I so weak?" she whispered.
Her eyes drifted toward the house visible from her window—the same house she had noticed before.
"That man…" she murmured. "The one who noticed…"
A faint crease formed on her forehead.
"What was his name?"
For the first time, someone had seen through her silence.
And somehow… she couldn't forget him.
To be continued…