Chapter Text
I am Kim Minjeong. Well, now Yu Minjeong.
Sounds weird even when I say it out loud.
I stared at the big mirror in our penthouse bathroom, fixing my blonde hair into a loose ponytail. My pale cheeks still looked a little flushed from rushing up the elevator.
Twenty-three years old, married to a billionaire who treats me like I'm invisible. Life's funny like that.
"Minjeong-ah! You home?" Ningning's voice echoed from the living room. She was already sprawled on the huge couch like she owned it, scrolling on her phone.
I grinned and ran over. "Yeah, just got back from the market. Bought stuff for dinner."
Ningning sat up, her eyes sparkling. "You're still cooking for that ice queen? Girl, she doesn't even deserve your soup."
I laughed softly and shrugged. "Habit, I guess. Plus... I like cooking. Makes the place feel less empty."
The penthouse was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows showing the glittering Seoul skyline, smart lock on the door that only beeped for me, Jimin, and a few approved people. Everything screamed money. Nothing screamed warmth.
My phone buzzed. I checked it quickly.
Me: Hey, will you be home for dinner tonight?
No reply. As usual. Jimin never texts back unless it's about company stuff or when she's pissed at me for "breathing too loud." I know she's probably at Jeno's place again. Doing... things.
My chest tightened a little, but I pushed it down. I'm pretending to hate her too. It's easier that way.
"Earth to Minjeong!" Ningning threw a cushion at me. "You zoning out again? brain on full speed?"
"Shut up," I giggled, dodging it. "Help me put these groceries away."
Ten minutes later the door opened again. Ryujin and Yeji walked in like they lived here too, carrying takeout bags and loud energy.
"Yo! We brought fried chicken!" Ryujin announced, already kicking off her shoes. "Since our rich wives are busy ruling the world, we decided to crash."
Yeji rolled her eyes but smiled. "She means we missed you. And we're bored."
I felt warm inside. These girls were my safe place. Ryujin and Yeji were married to each other-super rich, super cool, and super funny when they bickered.
"Minjeong cooked again," Ningning teased, pointing at the kitchen. "She's wife material. Too bad her actual wife is a cold-hearted-"
"Ningning!" I cut her off, cheeks heating up. I don't like cursing, but my friends? They had zero filter.
Ryujin smirked. "What? It's true. Karina unnie treats you like air. If she ever touches you wrong again, tell me. I'll kick her rich ass."
I forced a laugh. "It's fine. Really. We just... coexist."
They didn't know the full story. The bruises I hide with hoodies. The way Jimin's eyes go dark when I talk back. But I also knew about Jeno. The late nights. The way she comes home smelling like his cologne sometimes. It hurt, but I buried it deep.
We moved to the kitchen island. I started chopping vegetables while they chatted and stole bites of whatever I was making.
"Anyway," Yeji said, stealing a carrot stick, "we're going to that new bar tonight. The one with live music. You should sing, Minjeong. You always kill it with the guitar."
My heart did a little flip. I loved singing. It made me feel seen. "Maybe. If I'm not too tired."
Ningning wiggled her eyebrows. "Bring that yellow hoodie you love. You look like a cute dinosaur in it."
I laughed so hard I almost cut my finger. "T-Rex? Really?"
"Rawr," Ryujin deadpanned, making tiny arms. We all cracked up.
For a while, everything felt normal. Warm. Like I had a real family.
Then the smart lock beeped.
The laughter died a little. Jimin walked in, long black hair flowing perfectly, wearing a luxury black coat that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
Her eyes scanned the room-cold, sharp. They landed on me for half a second before sliding away like I was furniture.
She didn't say hi. Didn't acknowledge anyone.
Jeno wasn't with her this time, thank god.
Ningning muttered under her breath, "Bitch energy loading..."
I shot her a look. Jimin headed straight to the main bedroom without a word. Her bedroom. I slept there too, on the huge bed, but we might as well be on different planets.
I bit my lip and kept stirring the soup. My hands were shaking just a tiny bit. Why does she hate me so much? I never did anything to her.
Ryujin stood up. "We should go. Leave you two to... whatever this is."
"No, stay-" I started, but they were already grabbing their stuff, giving me quick hugs.
"Text us if you need anything," Yeji whispered.
"Even at 3 a.m."
I nodded, forcing a bright smile. "I will. Love you guys."
The door clicked shut behind them. Silence swallowed the penthouse again.
I finished dinner alone. Set the table for two, like always. Placed the soup in the middle-nothing fancy, just the way I like it. Comforting.
Then I waited.
Thirty minutes passed. No sign of Jimin.
I grabbed my phone.
Me: Dinner's ready. I made your favorite side dishes too.
No reply. Again.
My chest ached. I wasn't obsessed or anything. I just... still cared. Even after everything. The forced marriage, the cold shoulders, the times she grabbed my arm too hard when I talked back.
I still loved the tiny soft spot she had for puppies and dinosaurs.
I saw it once when a street kitten approached her. Her eyes went gentle for two seconds before the ice came back.
I changed into one of Jimin's old hoodies. It smelled like her-expensive perfume and matcha.
I curled up on the couch, knees to my chest, and scrolled through funny videos to distract myself.
Hours later, the door beeped again.
I sat up quickly, heart racing.
Jimin walked in. Her hair was slightly messy now. Lipstick a little smudged. She smelled like bubble tea... and that familiar cologne that wasn't hers.
She glanced at the cold dinner on the table. Then at me.
For a second, something flickered in her eyes. Not warmth. More like annoyance.
"You're still up?" Her voice was flat, cruel in its indifference.
I nodded, standing up. "I cooked. It's probably cold now but I can heat-"
"Don't bother." She cut me off, walking past me like I was a ghost. "I already ate."
My stomach dropped. I knew what "already ate" meant when she came from Jeno's.
I clenched my fists. Pretend you hate her, Minjeong. Pretend.
"You could at least say thank you sometimes," I mumbled, voice small.
She stopped. Turned slowly. Her dark eyes narrowed.
"What did you just say?"
I swallowed. My innocent puppy face probably looked scared, but I tried to stand tall. "Nothing. Forget it."
She stepped closer. Towered over me even though she was only a year older. "You're lucky I let you spend my money and live here, Minjeong. Don't push it."
Her words stung. I felt tears prick my eyes but blinked them away fast. I'm not weak. I have friends. I have my music. I have... myself.
She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Not slammed. Just closed. Like I wasn't worth the energy.
I stood there for a minute, heart pounding. Then I quietly cleaned up the dinner. Packed the leftovers. Washed the dishes with shaky hands.
Later, I slipped into the big bed on my side. Jimin was already asleep, facing away from me. Her wedding ring was off-company only, she always said.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling the familiar emptiness.
Why did I still text her every night?
Why did I still care if she came home safe?
Because deep down, under all the pretending, I was still hoping. Stupid, right?
My eyes were getting heavy when her phone lit up on the nightstand. A message preview popped up.
Jeno: Can't stop thinking about earlier. Come over tomorrow again?
My heart cracked a little more.
I turned away, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Tomorrow I'd go out with the girls again. Sing at the
bar. Laugh loud. Pretend everything's fine.
But right now, in the dark, sharing this huge cold bed...
I whispered to myself, "I hate you too, Jimin."
Liar.