❥ || chapter seven

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In the world of Fated Hearts, Lee Heeseung was the male lead.

Full stop.

The storyline revolved around him. He was the moon around which all things orbited. Aloof, brilliant, wounded. He was the reason the music swelled. The one whose cold shoulder meant something. The one whose heart, once cracked open, would change everything.

And I was supposed to be the girl who cracked it open.

Supposed to.

So why couldn't I get him to even look at me?

"Are you following me again?" Heeseung asked dryly as the elevator doors slid open.

I straightened my shoulders, forced a bright, totally casual smile. "I was just... passing by."

"This is the top floor."

"Yup." I cleared my throat. "Big fan of top floors."

He raised an eyebrow.

I stepped into the elevator. He didn't move to stop me. Didn't even sigh. Just pressed the button for the lobby and turned away like I wasn't even worth a second of his time.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

In episode four, in the original episode four, Eunseo got into the elevator by accident, spilled her files, and Heeseung bent down to help her. Their hands brushed. He made a snide comment, she snapped back, and for the first time, he smiled. It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. But it was the moment fans rewatched fifty times.

In this version, there were no files to spill. Just silence.

He didn't speak again until we reached the lobby.

"Try not to get lost next time," he said coolly, and walked off.

No brush of hands. No subtle smile.

Just click clack footsteps and a door swinging shut behind him.

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I didn't cry. Not really.

Okay, maybe I sulked. A little. Maybe I sat outside the office building on the low stone wall and stared at the fountain until the sun dipped low. Maybe I muttered to myself about rewritten lines and K-drama tropes and why Lee Heeseung had to be such a robotic statue of a person.

That was where Sunghoon found me.

"You look like you're waiting for a crisis to happen," he said, holding two convenience store drinks in his hands.

I looked up. "More like recovering from one."

He offered me one of the cans. "Peach soda. You look like a peach soda person."

"You guessed correctly."

He smiled and sat beside me, long legs stretched out, pristine shoes glinting in the sunlight. "Rough day?"

"More like a rough plot."

He cracked open his own drink, took a long sip. "Heeseung?"

I didn't answer right away.

He nodded anyway. "He's hard to read. Kind of like trying to understand tax laws."

"I thought you two were friends?"

"We were," Sunghoon said quietly. "Once."

Something in his voice made me glance at him, really glance. There was a softness around his eyes that hadn't been there before. A kind of tired understanding, like someone who knew exactly how much disappointment one person could carry without breaking.

"He's just... not how I remember him," I said finally. "He's more distant. Less... scripted."

Sunghoon looked at me then. "Scripted?"

My mouth dried up. "I mean, less predictable. You know, right?"

He didn't press it.

"Sorry I'm rambling," I said, sipping my drink. "You probably have better things to do than listen to me mope."

"I don't," he said simply. "And even if I did, I'd still sit here."

That made something in my chest ache.

Don't get attached, I told myself.

But then he smiled, and I was doomed.

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It wasn't like we planned to spend time together.

It just... started happening.

He'd show up near the end of rehearsals with extra snacks from the corner store. Sometimes those sweet rice cakes I always pretended not to like, even though I devoured them. Sometimes spicy chips that made me cough on the first bite, and he'd pretend not to laugh while handing me water.

He started walking me home too. Not in a "let's make it romantic" kind of way, just because it was dark, and he didn't trust the streets past ten.

"Chivalry's not dead," he said once, grinning sideways at me. "It just rides a bike now."

And he did ride a bike. A ridiculous one with a squeaky bell. When I teased him about it, he said, "It's the only thing that makes me feel like I'm not in a drama."

The walks weren't long, fifteen minutes at most. But they filled a space that Heeseung never even tried to.

With Sunghoon, I didn't have to perform. I could be awkward. Messy. Real.

He'd listen. Tease me just enough to make me roll my eyes. Laugh at my dumb jokes. Offer me the last piece of candy like it wasn't even a question.

"You're easy to be around," I told him once, when we sat on a park bench watching a stray cat wrestle a leaf.

He shrugged, tugging his hoodie down over his hands. "You make it easy."

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And yet... I kept reminding myself, this isn't supposed to happen.

Park Sunghoon is the second lead.

He is doomed.

And I know how he dies.

Episode fifteen.

There's a huge festival. Fireworks. Confessions. Tears.

Sunghoon sees a car speeding toward Eunseo, distracted, brakes failing. He throws himself in front of it. Shoves her out of the way.

He dies before the music even finishes swelling.

And in the final episode, Heeseung finds her again. Kisses her like it means something. The fans sob. The cycle ends.

I get to go home.

That's how it's supposed to go.

So why does my heart twist every time Sunghoon smiles?

Why does it ache when his hand brushes mine?

Why do I feel like I'm ruining everything by falling for the one man who isn't supposed to survive?

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"I think I'm messing up the story," I said aloud one night, curled on my bed with a notebook on my lap and guilt in my chest.

Heeseung barely tolerated me. Minchae wasn't a villain. Sunghoon was walking me home.

Everything was... wrong.

And yet.

It felt more real than the show had ever been.

The next afternoon, we were on the rooftop of the broadcasting building, sharing tteokbokki from a paper container. The sky was grey, the wind sharp, but the food was hot and the air clear.

Sunghoon stuck a toothpick into one of the rice cakes. "This one's the spiciest."

"You always say that."

"No, seriously, this one's an ambush. It's hiding its evil."

I rolled my eyes and took it. "Watch it be fine-"

The rest of my sentence drifted off as my mouth lit on fire. I choked. He handed me a water immediately, laughing so hard he nearly dropped the container.

"I told you!"

"I hate you," I gasped.

"Lies," he grinned. "You love me."

I froze.

He didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and he was waiting.

My heart beat so loud I could hear it in my ears.

Don't get attached.

Don't fall for him.

He's going to die for you.

"Eunseo?" he said softly, the laughter fading.

I looked away. "Nothing. Just... spicy."

He nodded slowly, like he didn't believe me, but didn't want to push.

Instead, he handed me a napkin. "You're leaking tears."

"Shut up."

That night, I dreamed of sirens.

Of screeching tires and a scream tearing out of my throat.

I woke up with my hand pressed to my chest, like I could stop it from breaking too early.

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