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The tickets Choi Han-young had secured were for Black Swan, a ballet performance hosted by the Kangrim Cultural Foundation.
This annual ballet, sponsored by Kangrim, was always in high demand, with tickets nearly impossible to obtain.
When she was part of the youth ballet troupe, Hee-soo used to attend this performance every year as part of her training.
At the entrance hung a large banner emblazoned with the words “Sponsored by the Kangrim Cultural Foundation.”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t thought about this place at all in the past ten years.”
Hee-soo stared blankly at the banner and the image of a ballerina printed beside the Kangrim logo. Inside, the theater remained exactly as she remembered it from her last visit.
She had started ballet at the tender age of six and danced for about fourteen years before quitting. Yet, after walking away, she hadn’t spared a single thought for it—like excising an entire chapter of her life.
And now, here she was, cast as a ballerina.
There had been no other choice, so she hadn’t hesitated. But if there had been another path, would she have taken this role? Probably not.
Every line of dialogue in this role forced her to reflect on her past self. The emotions she had left undefined and buried resurfaced between the lines, tightening her chest.
Ballet, Jae-hyuk, and the version of herself tied to both—she had tried to ignore them all. But whenever she let her guard down, they came rushing back.
Why had she done what she did back then? Could things have turned out differently?
At the end of all these questions, Jae-hyuk was always there.
Her heart ached.
Hee-soo pressed her palm firmly against her chest, trying to steady the sudden fluttering. Pausing mid-step, she stood still until someone tapped her shoulder as they passed by.
“What are you doing just standing there?”
“Oh, Director.”
“Are you coming in?”
Kang Jaemin gestured for her to follow. Shaking the brochure in his hand, he asked,
“This is my first time in a box seat—it’s kind of exciting. Have you ever been here before?”
“No, this is my first time too.”
Even Kang Jaemin, who usually maintained a stern expression, looked unusually excited today.
The theater was divided into two floors, with private box seats located on the second floor. Unlike regular tickets, these seats were reserved exclusively for sponsors of the performance.
Today’s show was a special preview screening aimed at media representatives and other key figures before the official run. It was akin to a premiere, and competition for the box seats had been fierce. Han-young had proudly mentioned how lucky they were to secure spots.
With Jin Yuna unavailable due to scheduling conflicts, Hee-soo, Jaemin, and Han-young were set to watch the performance together.
As Hee-soo followed Jaemin toward their box seat, she suddenly stopped.
“Director, I need to use the restroom real quick.”
“Alright, take your time. I wonder when Han-young will arrive.”
Turning away from Jaemin, Hee-soo made her way to the restroom and stood in front of the sink.
Even the restroom felt familiar.
Staring into the mirror, it felt as though the young Seo Hee-soo of her childhood was staring back.
Everything in the theater matched her memories perfectly, leaving her with a strange mix of nostalgia and regret. She felt as though she’d returned to a place she once longed for but also realized she shouldn’t have come back to.
The emotions swirling inside her weren’t unlike those she felt whenever she faced Jae-hyuk. That was why she couldn’t bring herself to enter the theater immediately.
Hee-soo turned on the faucet and washed her hands absentmindedly.
How many times had she dreamed of standing on that very stage alongside the ballerinas she admired as a child?
Memories of a time she missed but didn’t want to remember began surfacing one by one.
For a while, Hee-soo stood there, her hands soaked in cold water.
“It’s all in the past… it’s over…”
Biting her lip, lost in thought, she heard someone enter the restroom.
The woman who walked in was tall and impeccably dressed, exuding sophistication. From head to toe, she was adorned in luxury brands, as if she had just stepped off a fashion runway.
The woman approached the sink, adjusting her makeup in the mirror.
Hee-soo caught a fleeting glimpse of the woman’s face and felt a vague sense of familiarity. Though she was certain she’d seen her somewhere before, she couldn’t quite place her.
“Who is she?”
With an indifferent expression, Hee-soo followed the woman out of the restroom moments later.
“Oppa.”
At the sound of the woman calling out, Hee-soo instinctively looked up—and froze.
There stood Jae-hyuk.
Only then did Hee-soo recognize the woman from earlier—the same one from the photos holding a bouquet of lisianthus flowers. It was Kwon Chaewon, the daughter of a political heavyweight and Jae-hyuk’s rumored fiancée.
“Ah…”
A faint groan escaped her lips as she exhaled sharply.
Chaewon approached Jae-hyuk affectionately, taking a bouquet of flowers from him. Just like before, the lavish arrangement included plenty of lisianthus blooms.
As Chaewon said something and smiled at Jae-hyuk, he responded with a faint smile of his own.
Jae-hyuk, smiling at another woman.
Hee-soo’s gaze darted repeatedly between Jae-hyuk’s face as he looked at Chaewon and the bouquet in her hands.
It felt as though the ground beneath her feet was crumbling away.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene before her. Her feet felt rooted to the spot, and dizziness washed over her like a wave.
Of all places, this theater. And there was Jae-hyuk, with another woman and a bouquet of white flowers.
Her heart pounded loudly. Whether her furrowed brow was from anger or shock at the unexpected sight, she couldn’t tell.
Jae-hyuk, who had been looking down at the woman, suddenly raised his head. The moment his gaze shifted, Hee-soo quickly averted her eyes and turned her head away.
Trying to hurry past them, she was stopped when someone approached her.
“Hee-soo, I’ve been looking for you.”
Of all moments, Choi Han-young appeared right then, blocking her path.
“Let’s go in together.”
Han-young, neatly dressed in a casual suit, smiled politely at Hee-soo.
“Yes, let’s hurry.”
Hee-soo gave a brief reply and tried to pull Han-young along, but a voice from behind called out, stopping them.
“Oh my, what’s going on here?”
Turning around, Hee-soo saw Chaewon walking toward her with Jae-hyuk.
“What are you doing here, Han-young?”
“Ah, unni.”
Han-young stopped and turned to Chaewon with a smile.
“I’m here to watch the performance. What about you?”
“Same here. And isn’t this Seo Hee-soo?”
Chaewon greeted Hee-soo warmly and introduced herself.
“I’m Kwon Chaewon.”
“Seo Hee-soo.”
After exchanging curt greetings, Hee-soo’s gaze flickered briefly to Jae-hyuk, who stood a few steps behind Chaewon.
For a fleeting moment, their eyes met—Jae-hyuk’s gaze sharp and intense—and Hee-soo instinctively looked away.
“I heard you’re resuming your activities. Congratulations.”
Chaewon smiled brightly at Hee-soo before turning to beckon Jae-hyuk over.
“Oppa, come say hello. This is Choi Han-young. A close friend of mine.”
Hee-soo lowered her gaze, her heart pounding as she nervously clutched her hands together. She already knew who Chaewon was calling over.
Thump, thump.
The sound of her racing heartbeat echoed like distant drums in her ears.
“Hello.”
A slow, deliberate footstep approached, followed by Jae-hyuk’s deep voice.
“Lee Jae-hyuk.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Choi Han-young. I’ve known Chaewon for quite some time. Heard the good news—please take care of my sister.”
While the oblivious Han-young exchanged pleasantries with Jae-hyuk, Hee-soo slowly lifted her gaze. Her eyes met Jae-hyuk’s calm, unreadable stare. Forcing a strained smile, she quickly looked away.
Chaewon chimed in with her cheerful voice, offering advice to Han-young.
“Are you two on a date? Be careful when leaving the parking lot later—even with restricted access, reporters might still be lurking. Unless you’re getting married like us, you should be cautious.”
Like us, getting married.
Chaewon’s words pierced Hee-soo’s ears. It became unbearable to stand there pretending everything was fine. Her temples throbbed, and for a moment, the world spun before her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
As Hee-soo wavered slightly, Han-young quickly steadied her.
“I-I’m fine.”
Her face flushed red, Hee-soo gently pushed Han-young’s hand away and stole another glance at Jae-hyuk. Without a trace of emotion, Jae-hyuk held her gaze briefly before speaking to Chaewon.
“The performance will start soon. We should head inside. Enjoy the show.”
With that, Chaewon naturally linked arms with Jae-hyuk and bid farewell to the two.
“It was nice meeting you. Han-young, let’s catch up later?”
Winking playfully, Chaewon clung to Jae-hyuk as they disappeared together.
---
Back in the box seat, Hee-soo found it impossible to focus on the performance. Though seated in one of the best spots with an unobstructed view of the stage, her attention refused to stay on the performance.
Her mind was consumed by images of Chaewon linking arms with Jae-hyuk and his faint smile directed at her.
Suddenly, her breath caught, and her heart raced uncontrollably.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Hee-soo apologized to Kang Jaemin and Han-young before stepping out of the box seat. The confined space felt suffocating, making it unbearable to stay any longer.
Quietly closing the door behind her, she leaned against the hallway wall and exhaled deeply.
Glancing at her phone, she absentmindedly turned it on. As soon as the signal connected, a message popped up.
“Come to Box A.”
Hee-soo couldn’t make sense of Jae-hyuk’s message. Shouldn’t he be watching the performance with Chaewon?
“Now?”
Quickly replying, Hee-soo glanced around and began walking slowly down the corridor. She didn’t know where Box A was but decided to at least check its location. Following the quiet hallway, she soon arrived at Box A, not far from her own seat.
Standing in front of the door marked “BOX A,” Hee-soo hesitated, about to turn back, when her phone vibrated again.
“Now.”