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[Trouble ] - [Frank ocean]

The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the hotel dining area, casting a soft glow over the tables. The quiet buzz of conversation mixed with the clink of silverware against plates, but it was all background noise to Iseul.

She moved to the counter to pick up her breakfast, her eyes scanning the familiar buffet options. Sungchan followed behind her, casually picking out food for himself, but she barely noticed.

She glanced up at him, her eyes still heavy from the events of the previous night. "What were you going to tell me last night?" she asked casually, taking a sip of her coffee.

Sungchan hesitated for a brief moment, his usual teasing smile softening. "I'm in love with you."

Iseul laughed, the sound escaping without her meaning to. She thought he was joking. Of course, Sungchan, the charming, free-spirited friend, couldn't possibly be serious.

"You always find a way to crack a joke," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Nice try."

She turned away from him, her fingers gripping the edge of her tray, She walked toward their usual table, trying to quell the unease building inside of her.

Sungchan, however, stayed rooted where he was, his gaze lingering on her as she moved away. The casual banter they usually shared now felt hollow, like it no longer fit. He thought he had finally said what needed to be said, but instead of relief, the words felt heavier than ever.

The drive home felt long and empty, a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy of the hotel lobby. When Iseul entered the house, the familiar scent of wood polish and freshly brewed coffee greeted her.

But the usual comfort wasn't there today. Her father was seated at the kitchen table, his figure slumped forward, staring at something she couldn't quite make out.

"Iseul..." Her mother's voice drifted to her from the doorway, tired and strained. "Your father... he's not been well."

Iseul stepped closer, her heart sinking as she took in the sight. Her father, once a man who had been so precise, so sure of himself, was now distant and lost. His normally sharp eyes were dull, the usual fire in them extinguished.

"What happened?" Iseul asked, her voice softer now, worry threading through her words.

"The project," her mother explained, gesturing to the table. "The smart glasses... Me and Yejin... accidentally broke it. Everything's ruined. Your father... he can't focus anymore. He's been like this all day."

Iseul stood still, her gaze flickering between her father's defeated posture and the empty space at the table.

"Dad..." Iseul whispered, her voice barely audible, as she reached out to touch his shoulder. But he didn't respond. He didn't even move.

She stood there for a long while, watching him. But the sound of her phone vibrating in her pocket broke the stillness. The company's group chat buzzed relentlessly with messages, each more frantic than the last. A chill ran down Iseul's spine as she read the texts.

The boss is missing. The company is in chaos.

The words stung, sharp and unavoidable. She knew. She knew it wasn't just some coincidence. This was her fault, in some way. Her actions, her words—everything had set the wheels of chaos in motion.

Iseul's heart raced. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She had to act, had to fix this. She wasn't sure how or where to start, but she knew the only option left was to search every corner of the company. Every room, every hallway—there was no place she could leave unchecked.

The worry clawed at her chest as she moved toward the door, already thinking of the places she'd already searched, the faces that had given her nothing.

Where could he be? Her thoughts felt like a jumbled mess, but one thing was certain—there was one last place to check.

Their home.

Iseul knocked on the door, her frustration building with each unanswered thud. She leaned her ear against the wood, but the silence that met her only made her impatience grow.

Without a second thought, she turned on her heel and made her way to the garden wall. Her mind raced, her heart pounding with urgency. The company's chaos was spiraling out of control, and it felt like time was slipping through her fingers.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she took a deep breath and jumped over the garden wall. The landing was less graceful than she'd hoped, and she tumbled to the ground with an awkward thud. A brief moment of pain shot through her legs as she scrambled to her feet, brushing the dirt off her clothes. She didn't care. She couldn't afford to care.

A few steps forward, and there he was. Sunghoon stood by the door, his hair disheveled, coffee in hand. He looked at her with a mixture of surprise and indifference, his gaze barely flickering.

The absurdity of it all hit Iseul in that instant—she had scaled a wall just to get here, and yet, there he was, standing like nothing was wrong.

"Sunghoon?" she said, her voice thick with frustration. "Let's go. Your company is in shambles."

He took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes flicking to her with an air of nonchalance. "Let them fix something without me for once."

Iseul's chest tightened, the frustration boiling over. "You're unbelievable." She shot him a look of disbelief. "I stepped on my pride and came here so the company doesn't crumble."

"Oh, so you're here because of the company? Not because you're worried about me?"

"Of course, I'm here for the company, Sunghoon. But I'm not here to babysit you either."

She brushed past him, walking into the living room with an air of purpose. Her mind was too focused on the crisis outside to let his behavior get under her skin.

She grabbed his laptop off the coffee table and returned to him. "Here," she said, tossing it onto the couch in front of him. "Work."

She pointed at the laptop with the same authoritative tone she might use on a child. Sunghoon gave her a long, disbelieving stare, but his fingers reluctantly began to tap at the keys. His posture was slouched, but he complied, as though the tension between them didn't matter for the moment.

Iseul settled into the chair beside him, her eyes flickering to the screen of his laptop before turning back to him. Sunghoon's gaze caught hers, sharp and questioning.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked, his voice laced with annoyance.

"I'm waiting for you so we can leave together,"

"I've told you hundreds of times, I don't want to be near you," he replied, voice clipped, irritated.

"Fifty, actually," Iseul shot back, her lips curling into a small, teasing smile.

"Iseul!" His voice was harsher this time, cutting through the tension.

"What?" she shrugged nonchalantly. "I know when you're upset, you shut yourself away and never leave. So I'm staying here. I won't let you wallow in it."

He rolled his eyes, dismissing her words without a second thought. His fingers continued to type, the clattering of the keys filling the room.

Iseul, however, was far from content with just sitting there in silence. Her gaze wandered around the room, landing on a collection of antique statues sitting on a shelf.

With a small grin, she reached out and began gently running her fingers over the delicate carvings. The soft scratch of her touch disturbed the stillness, and Sunghoon's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her.

Iseul rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his irritation. She didn't care to sit still; boredom gnawed at her like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Then, an idea crossed her mind. She stood, moved to the rocking chair in the corner of the room, and began to rock back and forth, the creaking sound of the wood making it even harder for Sunghoon to focus.

This time, he didn't just glare. He fixed his gaze on her for a long, drawn-out moment, his eyes dark with frustration. But still, he said nothing.

Iseul let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in the chair, rocking slower now. "You know," she said, a hint of playfulness in her voice, "I hate quiet. And I get bored easily."

Sunghoon let out a sharp exhale, his patience thinning. Without a word, he stood up and moved toward the garden, his steps quick and purposeful.

He grabbed his headphones and slipped them over his ears, activating the noise-canceling feature. The sound of the world around him faded to a dull hum, leaving him with a brief sense of peace he desperately needed.

Iseul, undeterred, followed him, her steps quiet and determined. She watched him from a distance as he adjusted the headphones, trying to ignore her presence. But as always, she couldn't help herself. She moved closer, inching in until she was just behind him, peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

Sunghoon tensed, the feeling of her proximity making his skin crawl. His fingers hovered near the controls of his phone, and he knew that if he wasn't careful, he'd accidentally shut off the system. The thought of it made him want to scream, but he controlled himself with effort.

Without a second thought, he pushed her back with just one finger, the force gentle but firm enough to create some space between them. "Stop it," he muttered under his breath.

Iseul pouted her lips, taken aback by his reaction. It was always the same—he couldn't stand her being too close, especially when he was trying to block everything out. She didn't argue, though; she merely huffed and turned on her heel, heading toward the kitchen instead.

Iseul's attempt to cook had failed spectacularly. She wanted to make rice and chicken, a simple enough task, but the house's high-tech kitchen proved to be her undoing. The oven's settings were nothing like what she was used to, and soon, the rich smell of burning chicken filled the air.

The ringing of the doorbell startled her, but it was the sharp sound of Sunghoon's footsteps that made her turn. He rushed into the kitchen, his eyes wide with concern, but as soon as he saw the mess, the tension in his jaw tightened.

There she was, standing in front of the oven, fanning it frantically with a towel, the chicken now charred and blackened, nothing more than a crispy ruin.

"Didn't I tell you to leave?" Sunghoon snapped, his voice filled with frustration, though he couldn't hide the flicker of worry from earlier.

"I'm just not used to this oven. I didn't mean to burn your house down."

His irritation flared, but before he could unleash another scolding, his phone rang sharply, a reminder of the work he still had to do. His expression shifted, and with a sharp exhale, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'll deal with you later," he muttered before walking off, his mind already on the growing chaos at the company.

Later, Iseul stood outside in the garden, holding a tray of food she had carefully prepared to make up for the earlier mishap. She was determined to show him she could do something right. When she stepped into the room, Sunghoon was engrossed in his work, ignoring her presence entirely. Undeterred, she approached him, her eyes narrowing with purpose.

Without asking for permission, Iseul walked up to him, ripped the headphones off his head, and slammed the laptop shut with one swift motion.

Sunghoon blinked, his frustration reaching its peak. "Iseul, I was literally in the middle of something."

She didn't flinch at his tone, holding up the tray of food in front of him. "But I cooked something for you," she said, her voice determined. "You need food to keep going."

Sunghoon froze, the last shred of his patience slipping away. He couldn't believe it. This was the last straw.

Iseul sat down at the table, barely noticing the awkwardness between them as she shoveled rice into her mouth. Sunghoon, however, couldn't help but watch her in silence for a moment. The sound of his dropped chopsticks broke the stillness.

His eyes narrowed, voice laced with irritation. "You see, if you go left, you'll find the exit."

Iseul didn't even glance up, her focus solely on the food. "And I told you, I'm not leaving without you," she replied, voice steady, though there was an edge of defiance in it. "I know you a lot more than you think."

He scoffed, clearly not believing her. "Enlighten me, then."

The tension thickened, wrapping around the room like a heavy fog. Iseul finally put down her chopsticks and faced him. "You saw me last night with Sungchan and you misunderstood," she said, her voice quieter now, though still unwavering.

Sunghoon's expression shifted to one of bitterness. "Misunderstood? He was holding your hand. Don't hit me with that 'friend' bullshit. If he was just a friend, you wouldn't be close like that."

Iseul flinched, her gaze dropping to the table. She couldn't deny it—there was a certain truth in his words. Still, she gathered herself and lifted her chin, defiance seeping back into her posture.

"You can't make judgments based on a small interaction."

But then, reality hit her hard. She thought back to last night, to the moments she hadn't confronted him about, to how she had let things go without saying a word. It wasn't right. She met his gaze again, her voice steady but edged with the frustration she'd been holding back.

"Look, I didn't even confront you about what you said to me last night. Since we last met, you've done nothing but disrespect me."

Sunghoon's face darkened, his jaw tightening with the weight of what she said. "I got you out of prison. You wanted a job—I gave you a job. I then went to your doorstep and begged for your forgiveness."

Iseul's eyes glinted with something sharp, and she couldn't suppress a bitter laugh. "You want a medal?"

The air between them became colder, the reality of their broken relationship surfacing again.

Sunghoon's voice was low, filled with barely contained anger. "You... you don't deserve anything good, Iseul. You're greedy. Ungrateful."

Iseul bit her lip, the pain from the words and from her own emotions crashing into her. Her heart tightened, but she wasn't about to show him any more weakness.

"Do you have anything new to bring to the table?" she asked, her voice steady but carrying an edge of finality. "Because you've been saying that for ages."

Sunghoon's silence told her everything she needed to know.

"Good," she said, standing up without another word. Grabbing her bag, Iseul turned away from him, the door slamming shut behind her as she left.

Iseul's mood didn't improve as the day went on. She found herself walking through the familiar streets of her neighborhood, her mind still consumed by the chaotic morning. She made her way to Chaeryoung's apartment, needing someone to talk to, to vent her frustrations.

Chaeryoung greeted her at the door, her bright smile quickly fading when she saw the look on Iseul's face.

"What happened? You look like you're about to explode," Chaeryoung commented, guiding her inside.

Iseul flopped onto the couch, sighing dramatically. "It's Sunghoon," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. " He disappears from the office and then bugs me about Sungchan like it's nothing."

"Sounds like someone's jealous."

Iseul froze for a moment, her thoughts racing. "Jealous? Of me?"

Chaeryoung gave her a pointed look, leaning back against the counter. "Come on, Iseul. You're telling me he's not showing any signs of caring? If he wasn't jealous, he wouldn't have disappeared like that. He wouldn't have left you to clean up his mess."

Iseul smirked, feeling a spark of satisfaction deep down. Could it be that her plan was finally working? Was Sunghoon's stubbornness finally cracking?

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