Chapter 4 - Sparks That Burn

Sparks That Burn

"You're going with him?"

Jennie practically choked on her cereal, eyes wide as she watched Y/n zip up the back of her sleek navy-blue school uniform blazer.

"I have to," Y/n muttered. "There's a family dinner tonight. The Parks and the Kims. It's all for show."

Jennie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "You hate him. You want to burn him with your mind every time he breathes near you."

"That hasn't changed," Y/n said flatly, grabbing her bag. "But if my father wants a picture-perfect daughter and future heiress, then I'll give him one."

Jennie sighed. "Just don't let the act become reality."

Y/n paused in the doorway. "Don't worry, unnie. My hatred for him is deeply rooted. Unshakable."The dinner was being held in a private room at one of Seoul's most luxurious restaurants a place where billionaires casually sipped aged wine and business deals were sealed with a nod.

Y/n arrived in a sleek dress, hand looped around Taehyung's arm as cameras flashed from outside. She didn't smile.

"Pretend to enjoy this," he murmured close to her ear. "You look like you're walking into your own funeral."

"I might as well be," she muttered. "If I have to hear our fathers toast to this 'strategic partnership' one more time, I swear I'll scream."

Inside, the atmosphere was as fake as the pearls on half the guests. The two families sat at the long table, stiff and smiling.

Taehyung looked bored, swirling wine he had no intention of drinking. Y/n focused on the chopsticks in her hand, wishing they were sharp enough to stab the smug expression off his face.

"Taehyung," his mother cooed, "you and Y/n must spend more time together. Learn each other's habits. Get comfortable."

"I'm already too comfortable," Y/n muttered under her breath.

Taehyung smirked. "She snores in class."

Her eyes snapped up. "Excuse me?"

He leaned closer. "You fell asleep during our History exam last semester. Drooled on the desk, actually."

Y/n's cheeks burned. "I did not!"

"Jennie has the photo."

"Wait—what?"

Before the conversation could escalate, Park Daehun raised his glass.

"To the future of our families and to our children, who will carry both legacies forward."

Taehyung lifted his glass with a hollow smile. Y/n did the same, though her fingers trembled slightly.

In that moment, as the room applauded, as the flash of a camera caught the two of them fake-smiling side by side, she realized something terrifying:

She didn't just hate Kim Taehyung anymore.

She resented everything he represented. Privilege. Ease. The spotlight she fought for and never earned. The ghost of someone who didn't even want the crown.

Later that night, as she stepped out into the chilly air, Taehyung followed.

"You were quiet during dinner," he said.

"Maybe because every second was agony."

"Mm." He looked at her, eyes unreadable. "You're a good actress."

She crossed her arms. "I could say the same about you."

He stepped closer. Not smug this time. Just... tired.

"You think I want this? The cameras, the fake smiles, the constant expectations?"

"You get everything handed to you," Y/n snapped. "Even Top 1. I have to bleed for it, and you just... exist."

Silence.

Then his voice, quieter.

"I wish I didn't exist that day," he whispered.

Her breath caught.

"What?"

But he was already walking away, leaving only the sound of his shoes and the weight of unspoken things behind him.