When the glass doors of the roof garden slid open after the final bell, the bustling crowds of the Botany Club were gone. The greenhouse was almost completely empty, drowned in the long, low shadows of the winter twilight.
The heated air felt heavy and suffocating, smelling of damp soil and blooming flora.
Standing lonesomely by the central glass wall, her silhouette framed by the pale crimson horizon, was Lee Sora.
I took a slow, heavy breath, my sneakers crunching softly on the gravel as I approached her.
"So... you came," I murmured softly.
Sora didn't turn around immediately.
Her posture was rigidly straight, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice dangerously quiet. "I came."
Slowly, she turned to face me. The golden light caught the side of her face, highlighting a look of profound, unadulterated devastation. She raised her phone, her knuckles white as she turned the glowing screen toward my eyes.
"So, San-ssi..." she said, her voice trembling with a terrifying, quiet strain. "Did you enjoy the 'Shield Effect'?"
I tilted my head, my brow furrowing in instant, blank confusion.
"What... what do you mean?"
She tilted the screen closer. It was a high-resolution photo of the dusty blackboard from the H-Wnot rehearsal room. In Leo's crisp, analytical handwriting, a neat table was scrawled under my name:
PROS:
Incredible Visuals (Face/Body/Assets)
Good Character / Kind Personality
The "Shield" Effect
CONS:
Fandom War (Her fans will kill you)
Rumor Mill (Even more eyes on you)
She might get hate from your fans
My heart plummeted straight into the floor.
A cold, nauseating wave of panic crashed through my veins.
'That stupid Leo...' I screamed mentally, my jaw locking in horror. 'Why didn't he erase the board after our brainstorming session?!'
"Sora..." I stammered, stepping closer, my hands flying up in desperate defense. "Sora, please! That... that was just a stupid joke among the boys in the band! They were just messing around, please don't mind it—"
"A joke?" Sora cut in, her voice suddenly cracking open as a wave of raw emotion broke through her idol mask. "You calculated me on a blackboard, Oleksandr! You turned my feelings, my name, and my reputation into a list of pros and cons! Am I just a joke to you?"
"I didn't write that!" I pleaded. "I wanted to—"
"ENOUGH!" she screamed, the sound echoing harshly off the glass walls. "I don't want to hear a single word from you! Not another excuse!"
Fresh tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracing down her pale cheeks. She looked at me as if I were a complete stranger.
"I thought... God, I really thought you were different from everyone else. I thought you didn't care about the social rankings, the agency politics, or using people. I thought you actually looked at me." She wiped her eye furiously with the back of her sleeve, her chest heaving. "You are not different. You're just like the rest of them."
Desperate to stop the downward spiral, I took a swift step forward, reaching out with both hands to catch her shoulders.
"Sora, listen to me—"
SLAP!
The sharp, echoing crack echoed through the quiet conservatory.
My head snapped to the left. A violent, burning heat instantly bloomed across my right cheek.
I froze.
The physical sting was sharp, but the sudden, cold clarity it brought to my brain was absolute. The noise in my head went dead silent. The panic, the excuses, the frantic search for a lie—everything vanished.
The slap completely sobered me up.
Sora stood before me, her hand still raised, her chest rising and falling heavily as tears streamed down her face.
"Did you..." she whispered, her voice small, broken, and agonizingly fragile. "Did you even love me?"
It was the exact same question Ha-neul had asked me in Jeju. But hearing it now, spoken by the girl whose heart I was currently holding in my hands, destroyed every last piece of my ego.
I didn't touch my burning cheek. I looked straight into her tear-stained eyes, dropping my arms to my sides.
"I'm sorry," I said, my deep voice quiet, steady, and utterly devoid of pretense. "Sora-sunbae... I shouldn't have asked you out. That was my mistake."
Sora blinked, her breath hitching as she stared at me in shock.
"Sora," I said, taking a agonizing breath. "We are done."
A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening as the tears spilled faster. I didn't give myself room to retreat. I laid my soul completely bare.
"I'm sorry," I continued, every word tasting like lead in my mouth. "Yes... the thing you saw on that board is truly cruel and arrogant. I won't defend it. I'm sorry that I neglected your love, Sora. I could feel it... every single time you looked at me, every time you held my hand, every message you sent. I felt how genuine you were. But I couldn't give it back."
I looked at her—at her immaculate face, her incredible talent, and the bright future waiting for her on stage.
"You are beautiful. You are perfect. You deserve someone who looks at you and sees their entire world," I admitted, my voice dropping to a mournful whisper. "But I can't love you. I asked you out out of my own greed... out of my own teenage vanity because the boys cheered me on, and because having an idol girlfriend made me feel like somebody. And I was too stupid, arrogant, and cowardly to realize how much that greed would end up hurting you."
I offered her a sad, quiet, and completely unvarnished look.
"You know better than anyone else how awkward and stupid I can be sometimes..." I murmured, a faint, melancholic smile catching the corner of my lips. "So I hope... I really hope you can cherish those few good moments with me, like I do with you. It was fun. Truly."
Sora stood entirely frozen, her voice trembling violently as she searched my face for any sign of a lie, any trace of hesitation. "W-what... what do you mean..?"
I smiled softly. For the first time since I had asked her out, the heavy, suffocating weight of guilt lifted off my chest. I wasn't pretending anymore.
I raised my hand, slowly stretching it out toward her, palm open in a gesture of absolute honesty.
"Sora-sunbae..." I asked softly, stepping back into the space of a humble junior. "Let's be friends?"
The wind outside howled against the glass roof, leaving us standing in the warm, golden light of the garden—right back where we had started.