Incheon Myeongjin Junior High School

The sky was cloudy, heavy with the threat of rain.

I stood there, facing Su Yeon.
I had promised her a surprise months ago.
Today was our third monthsary.

Last month, I gave her a bouquet of flowers.
The month before that, a card and a box of chocolates.
This time, she was expecting something more.
Because I told her — I promised her — that I would give her something special.

I bowed slightly and raised my hands toward her, offering a short brown envelope.
Inside it was my gift.
My heart.

I pulled the envelope open carefully.
Eight pages — typed, crisp, trembling in my hands.
A story.

"A short story," I said, my voice shaking a little.
"A romance story... the female character is inspired by you."

Su Yeon took the papers, glanced at the first few lines... then stopped.
Her expression hardened.

"You said you were going to give me something special," she said, frowning.
"I'm disappointed, Min Yee."
She shook her head slowly, disbelief in her eyes.
"You really think... a few pieces of paper can make me happy?"

I stood frozen.

"Su Yeon..." I whispered, my heart caving in on itself.

She placed the story back into the envelope and tried to hand it back to me.
But I couldn't move.
My hands clenched at my sides.
My arms shook.
I couldn't take it back.

And so, she dropped the envelope at my feet.
A soft, final sound.

"I'm sorry, Min Yee... but I'm breaking up with you," she said.

The words hit me like lightning.
I shattered inside, like glass.

But I didn't scream.
I couldn't.
I just stood there, trembling.

Su Yeon turned her back and walked away.
As if I was nothing.

I stayed where I was.
The rain began to fall.
First a drizzle.
Then a heavy downpour — until I was completely soaked, standing there like an abandoned ghost.

"If someone had seen me at that moment," I thought,
"they would not have noticed that I was shedding tears —
the raindrops were hiding them, blending with them —
but they would have known I was crying...
because my shoulders were trembling."

I whispered to myself, choking between sobs:

"I put my heart... my soul... into that story..."
"A story... just for her... why...?"

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my soaked uniform, breathing hard, forcing the words out under my breath:

"I still want to write..."
"I will still write..."
"I will become a story writer someday..."
"And she will see... she will regret the day she dumped me."

Then, after mustering all the courage and strength left in my body,
I turned around and walked away.
Each step pounding against the pavement.
Heavy.

YEARS LATER — PRESENT DAY

I sat in an office — a studio.
Fingers flying across the keyboard, typing out another story.

I switched windows on my computer, opening Wattpad.
Copying parts of someone else's story.
Pasting them into the script I was working on.

Then a voice called out behind me:

"Mr. Park! Mr. Choi is calling for a meeting — about the storyboard for the next K-Drama series!"

I stood up, took a deep breath, and headed toward the conference room.
Pretending everything was fine.

Just another day.
Just another stolen story.

To be continued...