Y/n's life had always felt like a carefully constructed lie. The man she had mourned as dead and gone now stood before her, claiming to be her father. It was a cruel irony. This man was the root of her distrust, the reason she had stopped believing in anything or anyone. He had fractured her world, leaving her heart to fend for itself, cold and unyielding.

She had buried her emotions in the deepest corners of her soul, where they wouldn’t resurface to hurt her again. Feelings were a liability, and she had vowed to never let them rule her. Her broken heart needed time to heal, her shattered hopes a safe distance to rebuild. But then Taehyung came along, shaking the foundation of the walls she had erected around herself.

It was terrifying how one person, one fleeting moment, could change everything. Life had a way of shifting without warning, dragging you through storms you were never prepared for. It wasn’t fair, but it offered one elusive gift—hope. Yet, Y/n had none to call her own.

How could someone like her—empty, scarred, and hopeless—find even a glimmer of hope? Words like faith and trust seemed hollow. To Y/n, they were meaningless illusions. She had long since resigned herself to the belief that she was unworthy of love. Not her mother’s steadfast devotion, not Jisoo’s loyal friendship, and certainly not Taehyung's boundless affection, no matter how much he hoped she could believe otherwise.

Sometimes, silence was the only refuge. When the chaos in her heart and mind grew too loud, she shut herself away, retreating into a void where she felt nothing. It was dark, but it was safe. The idea of escaping pain, of never feeling again, tempted her. Maybe she had lost her mind, but she didn’t care.

Love, to her, was nothing more than a myth—a creation to satisfy humanity's endless hunger for connection, for safety, for belonging. It was fleeting, at best. One moment, it lifted you, filling your world with joy and color; the next, it shattered you, leaving you in a wreckage of sorrow and longing. And yet, humanity searched for it, always reaching for that elusive dream of finding someone to call home.

Deep down, Y/n craved peace and stability. Yet, in the hidden corners of her guarded heart, she yearned for love. She wanted to feel what others felt, to embrace the beauty of emotions instead of fearing their sting. She wanted to strip away the masks she wore as armor, to finally lower her guard and fall—fall into the unknown, into vulnerability, into healing.

She wanted to break free. To shatter the chains she had forged to protect herself. She wanted her soul to escape the prison she had created, to soar beyond the labels and barriers that held her down.

I want to rise, she thought. To be better. To mend. To rediscover who I am beneath the scars.

Like the phoenix born anew from its ashes, Y/n dreamed of freedom. She would fall. She would break. But she would rise again, stronger, brighter, and unbound.

And when she did, the world would finally see her—not as the girl caged by fear, but as the woman who dared to embrace her pain, her hope, and her love.

She would be free.