Su-mi sat at the counter of the dimly lit club, staring into the blur of neon lights and sweaty bodies moving to the deafening beat. The music rattled her chest, but she barely noticed. Her thoughts had their own rhythm, darker, slower, more unrelenting.
She felt a hollow weight pressing at her chest, and for once, she didn't care about the stares or the laughter around her.
"Mind if I buy you a drink?"
The voice was smooth, confident, and the moment she looked up, Su-mi froze. He was impossibly handsome, the kind of face that made her forget the world for just a second. Before she could even respond, he ordered two drinks for them, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
When the glass was set before her, she didn't hesitate. The liquid burned down her throat, sharp and freeing, and she immediately asked for another. He clinked his glass to hers, cheering her on, his eyes bright and daring.
By the time the fourth drink was on the way, he extended a hand. "Dance with me," he said.
Su-mi hesitated, then allowed herself to be pulled onto the floor. The music enveloped them, bodies moving as one, her tension melting in the heat of the crowd and the stranger's presence. The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, a bold, intimate kiss that made her heart hammer and her mind blur.
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Morning came with a harsh clarity. Su-mi's eyes snapped open. She was lying naked beneath crisp white sheets, her body stiff with disbelief.
A warm arm slid around her waist, holding her close, and a voice—smooth, teasing—murmured in her ear,
"Good morning, Sunshine."
Her blood ran cold. She scrambled upright, pulling the sheets around herself, heart hammering, mind spinning. Clothes and underwear were scattered across the floor like breadcrumbs from a night she didn't fully remember. Panic propelled her; she grabbed what she could and ran.
I just hooked up with a stranger.
The stranger called after her, playful, insistent, but she didn't look back. Only later did she realize—her wristwatch. Gone.
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Hours later, the club's chaos replaced by the sterile quiet of the conference room, Su-mi sat upright in her chair as she lifted a glass of water to her mouth. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and faint coffee, the hum of the air conditioning a jarring contrast to the bass still pounding in her memory.
"Next candidate," her secretary announced.
Su-mi lifted her gaze casually… until she saw him.
The stranger!
Her glass slipped through her fingers, shattering lightly against the table.
The room felt impossibly small, the air impossibly thick. He stepped forward, eyes bright and unassuming, and introduced himself.
"Good morning. I am Lee Jeong-woo."
Every careful strategy, every wall she had built around herself, felt suddenly useless.
He had no idea who she was.
But she knew him—and not in the way she wanted.