Chapter 3: The Wrong Kind of Attention
1073 Words
Yoo Mirae hated hallways.
At her old school, hallways were a place to escape to — quiet, familiar, sometimes even safe. But here, they were a minefield. Too clean, too polished, and always full of eyes that followed her like searchlights.
She kept her head down, hands in her sleeves, her hoodie pulled tight over her ears as she slipped between bodies taller and louder than her own. Everyone at Cheongdam International Academy seemed to move with purpose. With confidence. With the kind of comfort that came from being born important.
She tried to become air.
Invisible, forgettable air.
But that wasn’t working.
Not today.
---
It started when she stepped out of the classroom during break, just for a breath of quiet.
The hallway was empty — blessedly empty — until the sound of footsteps echoed behind her, lazy and unhurried. She glanced over her shoulder.
Her stomach flipped.
Baek Taewoo.
He was walking alone, hands in his pockets, shirt untucked, blazer hanging off one shoulder like he’d thrown it on as an afterthought. His dark brown hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in days, and he walked like he owned the building. Like nothing — and no one — could touch him.
He stopped when he saw her. Stared, then grinned.
“Well, well,” he said slowly, like tasting something new. “So you’re the girl everyone’s been whispering about.”
Mirae froze.
She bowed instinctively. “Hello…”
He tilted his head. “Yoo Mirae, right?”
She didn’t answer.
He took a step closer.
“I heard you’re Kang Joonseo’s new little sister.” His voice dropped just slightly. “But you don’t look like him. Not even a little.”
Her mouth felt dry. “We’re not related.”
“Oh, I know.” He smiled wider. “Doesn’t mean people won’t talk.”
She didn’t know what to say. Or how to move. Her body was telling her to run, but her legs stayed frozen in place.
Taewoo leaned in a little — not close enough to touch, but close enough that she could smell something faintly citrus and clean on his skin.
“Do you always wear that hoodie?” he asked. “Or are you hiding something under there?”
She flushed violently and stepped back. “Please don’t…”
“Relax.” He chuckled, dragging a hand through his messy hair. “I’m just curious.”
“About me?” she said before she could stop herself.
He blinked.
Then, softly, “Yeah. Kind of.”
That was the problem with Baek Taewoo. Everything he said sounded like a joke… until it didn’t.
“I have to go,” she mumbled.
But when she turned to walk away, she felt something brush against her wrist — his fingers, light and teasing, catching the edge of her sleeve.
“Don’t disappear too fast,” he said, his voice still smiling. “It’s no fun if you run.”
She pulled her arm away like it burned.
He didn’t chase her.
But he didn’t stop watching, either.
---
By the time her last class ended, Mirae felt like her skin didn’t fit right.
She hadn’t seen Joonseo all day — not that she’d expected to. He was in the third-year building, in a different world entirely. Rihan hadn’t spoken to her again, and Harim had only offered her a wave in the hallway between periods.
But Taewoo’s words stayed with her. The way he looked at her like she was something interesting. The way he touched her — just for a second — and left her with a heat she didn’t understand.
In her old life, boys never looked twice.
Here, they looked too closely.
And she didn’t know which was worse.
---
The rooftop was quiet.
She found it by accident — a door slightly ajar on the third floor behind the library stairs. The air was cold and smelled faintly of smog and pine trees. From up here, the school looked like a model city. Perfect windows. Perfect lawns. The world below moved without her.
She sat down near the railing, tugging her hoodie tighter around her.
The wind made her feel small. But that was okay. Small meant unnoticed. Small meant safe.
At least, until she heard the click of a door behind her.
She turned sharply.
Not Taewoo. Not Harim. Not even Rihan.
Joonseo.
He paused when he saw her — the same unreadable expression on his face, eyes shaded beneath his lashes. He had a thermos in one hand and his bag slung over the opposite shoulder, as if he'd just come from practice.
Mirae stood up instinctively.
“I didn’t know this place was used,” she said quickly. “I was just— I’ll go.”
“You don’t have to.”
His voice stopped her.
Quiet. Even. Unemotional.
She stared at him.
“I’m just here for a minute,” he added.
She didn’t move.
Neither did he.
They stood there — ten feet apart, the wind moving around them like something alive.
Joonseo walked to the far end of the rooftop and sat, back against the wall. He opened the thermos and drank, then closed his eyes, as if she wasn’t there at all.
And yet…
She couldn’t shake the feeling he knew she was still there.
She watched him from across the rooftop, heart thudding quietly against her ribs. He looked calm. Unreachable. Like someone who belonged to a different reality entirely.
And maybe he did.
But for a few minutes — just a few — they shared the same air.
When he stood up to leave, she looked down quickly, pretending not to watch.
As he passed, he paused beside her.
“Be careful with Taewoo,” he said, voice low.
She looked up, startled.
“What?”
Joonseo didn’t repeat himself.
He walked to the door, opened it, and disappeared without another word.
---
That night, Mirae stood in front of her mirror, staring at herself.
She pulled off her hoodie slowly, letting it fall to the floor. Her blouse hugged the curve of her waist more tightly than she’d realized. Her reflection looked unfamiliar — not beautiful, not stunning… but not invisible, either.
Are you hiding something under there?
Be careful with Taewoo.
She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat through the fabric.
Maybe she was.
---
- Writer
