THE CHASING PAST

Jiyoung once mentioned a saying to Aera in passing: Karma has a funny way of flipping the script. At the time, she had been referring to the Shin’s—a family who ran a convenience store a block away—embroiled in some drama Aera couldn’t have cared less about. But now, as she attended her boss’s wedding at the Grand Hyatt Seoul, Aera found herself beginning to grasp the meaning behind those words.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you saw the famously intimidating Jeon Jungkook bite his tongue and look like he was chewing on glass.

It had only been months, yet Aera could still vividly recall the devastating feeling of being toyed with by fate, constantly facing disappointment in Jeon Jungkook. He wasn’t her long-lost childhood friend—a conclusion she had reached after much reluctance. Instead, he was the menace who loved to breathe down her neck, a persistent and living reminder of the boy she remembered and adored all too well.

However, that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy watching Jungkook squirm with unease as she blatantly ignored him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Unlike with others, being ignored by her seemed to provoke a different reaction from him, something Aera had quickly picked up on. The clenched jaw when she walked past him in the office without a greeting, the hardened glare he shot her way whenever she challenged his opinions on her designs, or anything else that concerned her. Whether it was her schedule or her working style, Jungkook always found a way to engage with her.

And Aera dissed him. Every. Single. Time.

Yet, she couldn’t quite grasp why. Why did Jungkook keep coming back? What was it about her that pulled him in again and again?

A warm chuckle broke through her spiraling thoughts.

“There it goes again,” Taehyung murmured, his fingers grazing her skin as he fixed the loose strap of her dress, his touch light yet grounding. The annoying little thing had slipped off her shoulder for the second—no, third—time tonight, prompting Aera to make a mental note to berate Jiyoung for ordering such a ridiculous dress online once she got home.

When Taehyung asked her to be his (platonic) plus one for some wedding their colleagues were attending, Aera didn’t think twice about it. She definitely hadn’t expected it to be their CEO Kim Seokjin’s wedding. The moment she realized, she scrambled to text Jiyoung, rambling about how she didn’t have a single decent dress for the event. Jiyoung simply replied with a devil emoji and a cryptic “Got it.”

In hindsight, maybe Aera shouldn’t have trusted Jiyoung with this. She knew her friend had a habit of going all out to make an impression. Then again, Jiyoung also had a knack for picking exactly what Aera needed. It was a 50–50 gamble. Because even though she was pleased with how the dress looked on her, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of embarrassment every time Taehyung had to step in to save her from a wardrobe mishap. He joked that he felt like one of those celebrity dressers fussing over outfits at the Met Gala, but Aera thought he was simply being brotherly—always looking out for her and caring.

“Thank you, Tae.” She leaned over and kissed Taehyung on the cheek. The moment her lips made contact, a piercing stare burned into her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Aera felt the weight of someone’s gaze and didn’t have to look to reckon who it was. 

Jungkook. Shameless as ever, he didn’t even try to be subtle.

Taehyung shrugged. “A thank you and a kiss? That’s all I get? If you really want to repay me, land me a date with that hottie Park Jimin, the one you’re close to.” He grinned, winking, completely unapologetic.

His unabashed comment made the table erupt in laughter. Mark and Jihee laughed along with Aera, who, with a guilty expression, had to tell Taehyung, “I wish I could, Tae, but the last thing I heard is that he’s straight. Sorry.”

“Oh, I know that! Just admit you’re gatekeeping him all to yourself, Buttercup,” Taehyung teased, but Aera only shook her head.

“No, Taehyung, I’m not. Believe me,” she insisted. “I’ve told you many times already. We’re just old school friends.”

“Doesn’t seem like it to me~,” Taehyung chirped in a sing-song voice before turning to Jihee. He knew she hadn’t been there to see it for herself, but that wouldn’t stop him from filling her in.

“You should have seen it, Jihee. The lovesick puppy couldn’t take his eyes off her, smiling like an idiot from time to time.” He huffed dramatically before adding, “Oh, but that’s not all. He’s stolen my job of bringing her coffee every morning. And now he even drives her home. Can you believe that?”

“Didn’t know you were stalking me, Tae,” Aera said.

“You lovebirds make it so obvious, babe. Even the blind could see it,” Taehyung shot back.

“You sound very jealous to me right now,” she remarked.

“Pfft, as if! I’m gay,” he retorted.

Ever since Aera let Jimin back into her life two weeks ago, an unexpected sense of normalcy had settled over her days. Each morning, she woke feeling a little lighter, as if the weight she had carried for so long was slowly unraveling. And each night, she drifted to sleep with a quiet heart, the soft hum of music playing from her phone on the nightstand. The sound of waves crashing against the shore wrapped around her like a familiar embrace, grounding her even though Busan was miles away.

She no longer stared at the white ceiling of her apartment. Her long lashes rested peacefully against the apples of her cheeks as she realized that drowning in self-pity and misery was irrational—that it only brought unnecessary pain, pain she could have avoided. She was a fool for not seeing it sooner.

Jimin was trying, and Aera did her best too. The small smiles they shared when their companies met up to collaboratively work on the Jeju project hinted at a growing bond. It was not only tied to an initiative that would open the island’s doors to the world but also served as a foundational step in rebuilding their connection. The supposed “rivals” were working well together—a disappointment to those who had been waiting with bated breath for all hell to break loose and for the two leading companies to fight like cats and dogs. To their dismay, and to the government’s delight, that never happened.

For once, the walls of Kim Enterprises weren’t buzzing with gossip. Instead, the atmosphere was vibrant and fertile, bringing out the best in everyone involved. Aera wished the same for Jungkook, but only God knew what went on in his head. He was grumpier than ever, a permanent frown etched onto his lips as he carried himself like the whole world was at fault. 

Sometimes, Aera wondered if it was all just a way to draw attention. Maybe Jungkook liked being in the spotlight. Or maybe he just couldn’t help but draw attention wherever he went.

When the wispy ties threatened to slip from her shoulders once more, Aera excused herself from the table, determined to fix the problem once and for all. Taehyung smirked, accusing her of dodging the subject, but Mark cut him off, signaling to let it go.

Casting a grateful glance at Mark, Aera weaved through the sea of tables and headed toward a narrow hallway on the right side of the hall.

Soft cove lighting bathed the room in a warm, diffused glow. Large pots lined the walls, their floral arrangements adding a gentle, romantic touch. Contemporary art pieces adorned the space, blending seamlessly with the elegant decor. Every detail reflected Seokjin and Namjoon’s refined taste—sophisticated yet effortlessly inviting.

Aera was moved by the simplicity of it all. 

She was so engrossed in their wedding that she even shed a tear when the grooms recited their self-written vows. Their love and emotions were so profound that they tugged at her heartstrings. Swooning over fictional BL characters on TV was one thing, but witnessing love like this in real life was even better—raw, genuine, and deeply moving. She could only hope that a love as pure and free as theirs was waiting for her too.

Creaking, the door to the suite clicked open and shut as Aera stepped inside, greeted by an interior that exuded understated elegance. The open space flowed seamlessly from the entrance to a cozy lounge area, where a plush velvet sofa and armchairs framed a sleek glass coffee table, inviting her to sink into comfort. To her right, a refreshment station held an assortment of bottled water, champagne, and neatly arranged glasses—a nice touch for a wedding venue. Nearby, a small mirrored vanity stood against the wall, softly illuminated by overhead lighting.

Aera caught her reflection in the mirror, the dim yet flattering light highlighting every delicate detail. Without thinking, she stepped closer, smoothing out the fabric of her dress and adjusting a stray lock of hair before letting out a steadying breath. She swept her loose hair to one side and turned her shoulder, trying to locate the strap adjuster. The loose strap had twisted itself into a shape resembling a springing strand of spaghetti.

Reaching back, she let her fingers graze her shoulder, searching for the familiar plastic feel against her skin. Once she found it, she pinched the adjuster between her thumb and forefinger, carefully maneuvering the twisted strap with her free hand. With a practiced motion, she tugged gently, smoothing out the fabric as the strap slid back into place. She gave it a final, reassuring tug before repeating the same with the other strap.

Aera lingered for a couple of mirror shots to upload to social media, flashing a peace sign in one and a finger heart in another. Her expression, however, contradicted the charm the dress brought out in her. More sweetheart than fashion icon.

She noticed it and tried her best to pose like people her age. A failure. Maybe she should listen to Taehyung for once and learn a thing or two from him about posing. The guy could pull out any look on camera and make it seem effortless, like a goddamn Celine model. His photography skills were worth every dime.

Remembering his advice on mirror selfie poses, Aera straightened her back, letting her chest subtly lift to enhance her bust. She tilted her chin up, accentuating the soft lines of her jaw, and gazed into the camera with a neutral expression. Damn, she looked hot like that.

1… 2… 3… click.

The shutter went off, and Aera had the perfect picture for her profile icon on her SNS. A small, content smile stretched across her lips. She was satisfied, for the first time, with how the photo turned out. Returning to the camera app, she decided to take a few more pictures. But just as she was about to tap the shutter button, the sound of loud footsteps and hurried breaths pulled her attention to whatever was happening on the other side of the room’s door.

For a moment, she stared blankly at the polished wooden door, her body twisted at an odd angle. She wondered if the rowdy children she had seen earlier were being scolded by their parents and told to take their chaos elsewhere. However, a loud bang and a cry of pain shattered that thought, making her turn fully toward the door. Shoving her phone into her purse, she took a swift stride forward.

But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to face when she threw the door open.

There, in the empty hallway, stood a towering figure with his back to Aera. His raven hair, perfectly gelled, reached just above the nape of his neck, complementing his broad shoulders. He had removed his suit jacket, revealing the firm, muscular contours beneath the smooth white silk of his shirt.

What was surprising about Jungkook’s presence here, of all places, was that he wasn’t alone. He had company, though a poorly treated one. The man received the worst kind of hospitality from Jungkook, given how he was being held by the collar as Jungkook unleashed his fury—both literally and figuratively. Within seconds, a red bruise formed just beneath the man’s eye, blooming across the apple of his cheek.

Aera gasped loudly. “What… What’s happening, Mr. Jeon? Why would you— What are you doing?”

Despite his grunt of pain, Min Sung felt a brief surge of relief, thinking he might be let off the hook if a rational mind listened to him instead of being dragged around like a common criminal. He grabbed Jungkook’s wrists, trying to pry off his killer grip, only to be overpowered and slammed against the wall behind him. Hard.

A flash of neon flickered across Jungkook’s vision. His glare hardened, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He commanded his raging heart to steady, urged the pounding in his head to subside, but the demon whispering in his ear refused to be silenced.

This is it. Show her who you truly are, Jungkook, it taunted in his ears.

Jungkook closed his eyes. A deep breath in. A deep breath out.

“Leave. At once. You’re not supposed to be here, Aera,” he growled, lowly.

Aera. Not the usual, authoritative “Miss Han.”

The familiarity in his tone made her hesitate, compelling her to linger a little longer. With a slight shake of her head, she brushed Jungkook off and stepped into his line of sight.

“No.” She stood her ground. “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Her voice thickened with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, a sting pricking the back of her eyes, as if watching Jungkook struggle with himself hurt her just as much. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes remained stone cold, fixed on the intruder who had ruined his already spoiled evening.

The hatred Jungkook held for the world came broiling out of him. His belief that the world held a personal grudge against him felt confirmed by the suffocating position he was shoved into.

He never imagined confronting Aera like this, exposing his true self to her, if he ever got the chance at all. He had foolishly hoped for a delicate moment, one where he could be vulnerable, surrendering his demons willingly before her. But not like this.

He was ruining everything, proving once again that he was good for nothing. Life sure had its cruel way of fucking him over, again and again.

“Everything is wrong with me, Aera. You know it—everyone does,” he said, his tone icy and controlled. “But now is not the time. You can argue with me later. For now, do as I say and leave.”

Aera shook her head sharply this time. 

Jungkook wasn’t acting like his usual, sharp-tongued self. He still refused to meet her eyes, and his silence was heavy with meaning. There was a depth in his words—like a hand reaching out from the darkness, grasping for something. That had to mean something, right? Maybe this was her chance to finally understand him. The mixed signals and the cryptic way he treated her might all trace back to this moment of vulnerability.

“You’re not Jeon Jungkook, are you?”

The words left her mouth in a breathless whisper, her heart tightening painfully behind her ribs. Blood rushed through her veins like a wild current, yet her limbs felt ice-cold and numb. Every sound seemed to vanish into the void, making Aera’s words echo sharply in the silence.

The corridor was mostly empty, devoid of many people, yet the presence of Jungkook, Aera, and Min Sung was enough to cast a heavy, almost suffocating darkness over the space.

Min Sung sensed it. He remained still, his mouth clamped shut, his body rigid like a statue, unwilling to disrupt whatever revelation was unfolding between them. His gaze flickered between them, fear tightening his features as he took in the stark contrast—Aera’s soft, melancholy gaze and the dark gleam in Jungkook’s black eyes.

Something about the accusation made the demon hovering behind Jungkook swell with a twisted sense of satisfaction. A masochistic thrill coiled in his chest. He smiled sinisterly and cracked his neck from side to side.

Jungkook mimicked the motion like a marionette.

“Of course, I am,” he said. “Jeon Jungkook—the devil no one asked for, princess.”

There it was. The harsh, unbiased truth Aera had been chasing since the beginning. Her eyes widened in shock at the endearment, the very one her beloved best friend always used for her. Realization sank in, yet confusion clouded her mind even more.

Eager, the demon longed to slam Min Sung’s absent-minded face straight into the unattended finishing nail jutting from the wall, leaving a far more lethal impression on Aera. But Jungkook resisted the urge. Instead, he grabbed Min Sung by the neck and forced him forward. He followed closely behind, casting Aera a final, revolting glance.

Aera stood frozen, her eyes transfixed on the spot where Jungkook had been moments ago. He had just unraveled the biggest mystery about himself, yet he left her pondering with even more questions.

If he had known Aera all along, why had he acted like a stranger? Even if, let’s say, he had somehow failed to recognize her at first, how did he end up with an entirely new identity? Back in school, Aera—and everyone else—had known one thing for certain: Jungkook never had a surname. So where the hell did he get the title of Jeon Jungkook?

This thought brought her back to when she confided in Jiyoung about her doubts that Jungkook was faking his identity.

She wished she could go back in time and reassure that version of herself. She’d tell her she had been right, without a doubt. But she’d also linger a little longer, brew her favorite drink—this time, two cups—and sit with her past self, brainstorming how Jungkook had managed to pull it all off.

Forging a new identity was no child’s play. It required the involvement of a powerful body to get the job done, whether it was legal or illegal didn’t matter. Jungkook could not have possibly managed everything on his own; he must have needed assistance to carry it out and manipulate his past records. If not, perhaps he had simply chosen Jeon as a way to cope with his childhood wounds. He had endured relentless bullying in school and societal criticism just because he didn’t carry his father’s last name like everyone else.

But where did Kim Seokjin, the CEO of Kim Enterprises, fit into all of this?

According to him, he had adopted Jungkook from a Daegu orphanage he donated to annually. However, this directly conflicted with the truth. Jungkook had been born and raised under his mother’s care in Busan. So how did he end up in Daegu? Something definitely wasn’t adding up. A crucial detail was still missing—the one piece that could connect all the dots.

Resolute, Aera sprang into action. She moved swiftly and rushed off to uncover what had really happened.

From the look Jungkook gave her, it was clear he wouldn’t reveal more than he already had, so it was up to her to discover the rest. She could have confronted Seokjin, bombarding him with questions, but there was a high chance he truly was the good man everyone believed him to be.

And then there was the nagging hunch she couldn’t shake.

For Jungkook to have moved from Busan to Daegu and ended up in an orphanage at that… something terrible must have happened to his mother, right?

With no father in his life, Jungkook’s mother was his entire world. He was deeply attached to her, both emotionally and dependently, and his love for her was beyond words. The mere thought of anything bad happening to her would devastate him. That would explain his cold demeanor right now—if Aera’s thoughts were even close to the truth.

She returned to the grand hall and rejoined her group. Only Taehyung remained at the table, eating his wedding meal while Jihee and Mark greeted the grooms. She owed them her well wishes too, but she wasn’t sure if she had enough time to do so in person. Her congratulatory cash gift would have to suffice, she decided.

Meanwhile, Taehyung regarded her with curiosity, noticing the swirl of thoughts clouding her mind. Her slightly disoriented expression didn’t go unnoticed.

“Everything all right? You were gone for a while,” Taehyung asked, his words slightly muffled as he chewed.

“Huh…?” Aera’s body tensed in reflex. Taehyung’s words sank in slowly, and she mustered a weak smile, though her lips twitched awkwardly. “Yeah,” she murmured.

Taehyung frowned, setting down his fork. “Are you sure? You look a little pale… Maybe you should sit for a bit.” His concern was evident as he scanned her face. The color had gradually drained from her skin, as if something lethal had taken hold of her in that moment.

“Actually, I think I ate something I’m allergic to,” Aera said, lying glibly. She needed an excuse to leave. The thought that struck her was too overwhelming to ignore.

Taehyung’s brows knitted together then. “Oh… do you want to go home? I can drop you off.”

Aera exhaled softly, shaking her head. “I appreciate it, Tae, but really, I just need some air. I’ll catch a cab.”

His jaw tightened slightly, as if debating whether to insist, but he only sighed. “All right. At least let me walk you out.”

As expected, Taehyung was persistent. He finished his meal quickly and accompanied her outside, waiting beside her until the Uber she had ordered arrived ten minutes later. When it pulled up to the hotel curb, he opened the door for her, stepping aside as she slid in. Then, leaning down to the window, he met her gaze.

“Text me when you get home safely,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. He gave a small wave. “Goodnight, Buttercup.”

Aera hesitated for a second before nodding. “Goodnight, Tae.” She lifted her hand in a slight wave, then looked away.

The cab glided into the slick road, where heaps of snow had been pushed aside, forming small, uneven mountains. Dusk settled, casting a soft haze over the quiet streets of Seoul. In the heart of February, the usual bustle had faded as people chose the warmth of their shelters over the cold, watching the weeping sky from behind frosted windows.

It took Aera back to a night many years ago when Busan’s sky unleashed a storm that shattered its people.

Cold winds swept through the city, shifting and commanding the night. New Year was still a breath away, yet the students of Busan Public School had already decided to celebrate the year’s end with a fairytale widely recalled during winter.

A buzz had spread across the school campus about who would participate in the play—especially the main leads. Aera had long been known for her obsession with stories of princes and princesses since childhood. So, when word got around, she was immediately chosen as the perfect candidate to play the princess. And for the other two? Who else but her best friend to stand by her as the knight in shining armor, with the popular boy cast as the prince?

Any other time, under different circumstances, Aera would have shamelessly enjoyed acting out her childhood dreams. But lately, her newfound and rapidly growing friendship with the senior student Jimin, during practice, had begun to cast a shadow over her long-standing bond with Jungkook. She was spending less time with him than she used to, and when they were together, she often found herself gushing about Jimin—how he would invite her on strolls with his sick grandfather, how he shared heartfelt stories about him.

The gleam in her eyes, innocent as it was, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. To him, it looked like she was falling in love. And so, foolishly—perhaps even selfishly—he began to distance himself from her.

Eventually, though, everything backfired horribly.

Jimin’s grandfather passed away peacefully in his sleep, leaving Jimin heartbroken. Their play was just a week away from being performed at the winter festival, and Aera did her best to lift his spirits. But grief had a strange way of reshaping emotions, of making people cling to warmth wherever they could find it. And before he even realized it, Jimin found himself falling for her—not just for her kindness, but for the way she listened, the way she stayed.

He felt something different for her now.

Eager to confess his feelings, he picked what he thought was the perfect moment—but perhaps the worst one instead. Just as the girl from his class acted out the scene where she poisoned Aera’s character, making her fall into a deep slumber, Jimin made a reckless decision.

He kissed her. For real.

A kiss meant to revive her. A kiss meant to confess his love.

Instead, it became the kiss that traumatized not one, not two, but three people.

“Please be mine, Gorgeous,” Jimin had whispered.

A lone tear escaped Aera’s eye—just as it was supposed to in the play. But the reason behind it was entirely different.

Behind the stage curtains, Jungkook, the knight in shining armor, watched it all unfold. His eyes burned, his throat tightened. His fingers curled into his sleeves, holding back the overwhelming rush of emotions.

Snow White lay still in her tomb bed. In the next instant, her loyal knight knelt beside her, his voice steady yet carrying a weight it never had before. Words he had rehearsed countless times now felt unbearably real.

“You deserved better. I once had a wife, Princess. Sara was her name. When I returned from war, I carried with me the stench of death and the anger of the lost. I wasn’t worth saving—that’s for sure. She did so anyway. And I loved her. I loved her more than anything or anyone. Then I let her out of my sight... and she was gone. And I became myself again. A self I never cared for. Until you.

“See, you remind me of her. Her heart, her spirit. But now you, too, have gone. You both deserved better. And I’m so sorry I failed you. I’m so sorry... But you’ll be a queen in Heaven now, sitting among the angels.”

If he wanted, he could have kissed her like the prince. But instead, he simply tilted his head and pressed his lips softly to her cheek.

Another tear slipped from her eye. Her hands trembled—not because they were supposed to, as the script dictated. Not even her slow, hesitant movements or the wistful whisper of his name had been scripted.

“Jungkook…”

A loud horn screeched in the distance, just as it had all those years ago, jolting Aera from her reverie. She blinked a few times, her gaze fixed on the back of the driver’s seat in front of her, dormant memories unraveling.

Someone had died in a car accident that night. The details were hazy, but she remembered how the night had swallowed her whole—the shock, the panic, the desperate need to escape blinding her senses. The next morning, she left for her grandmother’s house for Christmas, clinging to the hope that distance might steady her. It didn’t. Nothing did.

It wasn’t the accident that had shaken her—she hadn’t even known about it until a few weeks later. She had been too consumed by the fact that her first kiss—the one she had saved for someone special—had been taken from her, without permission, without meaning. The weight of it lingered in her chest, heavy and unshakable. Facing anyone from school had felt unbearable, and the thought of looking Jungkook in the eye filled her with a discomfort she couldn’t name.

How could she have explained to him that he was the only boy she had ever loved when he had witnessed someone else steal her first kiss?

She hadn’t realized that in trying to disappear, she was losing her last chance to be there for him. They had been barely sixteen—the same age Jungkook was when he met Seokjin in Daegu and went home with him as a brother.

Thinking about it that way, the missing pieces finally fell into place.

And yet, Aera hesitated to accept the truth. Even though everything made sense, she couldn’t believe it—not until the universe confirmed it, despite all her hopes, despite her desperate wish for a different reality.

The cab slowly came to a halt at the gate entrance of her apartment building. She paid the fare online and stepped out.

Time ticked by agonizingly slowly. Her hands were clammy and sweaty, numb from the cold air as she entered the elevator. She thumped the button for her floor and waited until the elevator dinged, announcing her arrival. It was as if she had been pulled into a haze. She walked mechanically to her apartment door, opened it without remembering typing her passcode, and went straight to the living room, heading for her laptop perched on the coffee table.

It took a while to boot up the computer and even longer to look up Busan obituaries containing information from almost twelve years ago.

At last, after endless scrolling and clicking, Aera finally found a memorial obituary website that offered what she was searching for. Her eyes glistened, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the smiling face—one that resembled Jungkook so much. Below it, her name was written in bold, italic letters:

The late Choi Areum passed away on December 23, 2013.