The room looked more like a storage closet than an actual place to live. The air was damp, the space was tiny, and the paint on the walls was peeling, revealing patches of black mold. The only natural light came from a small window that was caked in dust. Even the ceiling light flickered weakly, probably on its last legs.
But despite how awful the room was, there was one part Soo-min actually liked—a section of the wall completely covered with posters of her favorite actor.
Kang Ji-hoon.
He was one of the hottest rising stars in Korea. That face of his? Unreal. His dark eyes sparkled, his black hair always perfectly styled, and he just had this aura you couldn't ignore. And get this—every news article about him only had good things to say. He was known for being kind, respectful, and scandal-free. Literally perfect.
And honestly? He was the only reason Soo-min still managed to smile.
She'd been lying in bed for a while now, unable to get up from the sagging mattress. Her eyes stayed glued to that precious wall of posters.
I don't want to go to campus. Not wearing these old clothes...
Last week, a group of girls had walked past her, giving her those awful judging stares before laughing and whispering behind her back. That day, she'd worn an oversized moss-green sweater she found at a bazaar, paired with some baggy jeans she bought cheap from someone who lost a bunch of weight and was getting rid of old clothes. And her hair... well, her hair was a disaster. She usually cut it herself to save money, but the results were hit-or-miss. Mostly miss. In fact, she hadn't cut it in over a year now, and her bangs had grown so long they covered her brown eyes.
Soo-min finally forced herself to get up and check her closet, hoping she had something—anything—that could make her feel at least a little pretty.
But then, the front door slammed open with a bang, loud enough to rattle her bones. Her head snapped toward her closed bedroom door.
He was home. Her dad. A drunk, gambling mess of a man.
"SOO-MIN! WHERE'S THE MONEY?!"
His raspy voice echoed through the entire house.
Thud.
No... Not again...
Her hands trembled as she opened the door. There he stood, reeking of alcohol, clutching a bottle of soju like it was his lifeline. The stench hit her nose so hard it made her want to throw up.
"I... I haven't been paid yet, Appa..."
SLAP!
His hand struck her face before she could finish, the sting so sharp it made her vision blur. She stumbled and fell to the floor, still weak from not eating since yesterday afternoon. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall.
"I told you! Don't come back here unless you've got money!"
Soo-min just nodded, head down, not saying a word. Her father stormed off into his room and slammed the door so hard it shook the house.
Truth was, she had money—from her part-time job at the convenience store. But she wanted to use it to buy art supplies. If there was any left over, maybe a new outfit.
Soo-min touched her stinging cheek and glanced at her reflection in the small hanging mirror in her room. It was round, with a chipped, gold-colored frame.
"I'm just so tired... I want out of this life..."
What she didn't know was that someone—a god—was quietly watching her from the top of her wardrobe, having seen and heard everything.
____
That afternoon, she put on a knee-length blue dress that used to belong to her mom, then headed to campus. But not before stopping to buy new painting supplies. Soo-min was a fine arts student at a well-known university in Seoul. Her natural talent for art had helped her win a scholarship back in grade school.
She walked to the section where all the paint brands were displayed, weighing her options based on price, quality, and how much product she'd get. After some thought, she grabbed a low-grade set—Grade F—but it had decent quantity.
Just then, a familiar voice chirped from beside her.
"Hey, Han Soo-min, are you seriously getting that paint? That stuff'll make your work fall apart in no time."
A girl in a name-brand crop top and a plaid mini skirt appeared beside her.
"If you want good results like mine, you should go with this one." She smiled sweetly while pointing at a Grade S paint set that cost three times as much.
"No thanks, Jung Nara. I'm used to this one," Soo-min replied, forcing a polite smile.
"Alright then~ Let's check out together!"
Without waiting for a response, Nara grabbed Soo-min by the wrist and dragged her to the cashier. After paying, they walked side-by-side toward campus.
"Um... Nara, you don't have to walk with me..." Soo-min said quietly.
"Huh? Why not? Unless you're—"
"Nara!"
Someone called out behind them, cutting Nara off. Both girls turned around.
It was Kang So-ae. Nara's best friend.
"I didn't know you two were... friends," So-ae said, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, we bumped into each other at the store and—"
"We're in the same class. Of course we're friends," Nara interrupted smoothly.
Soo-min just stared at the ground. Friends, huh? She never really had any. Not for long, anyway. Once people found out about her family, her finances, they always left.
"Oh! Soo-min just bought this paint... what was it again? That cheap, unknown brand?" Nara asked So-ae.
A sly smile formed on So-ae's lips. "Oh, the one that makes your work fall apart? That one?"
"You'll let her borrow your paint, right? It'd suck if her project ended up a mess..." Nara added, still smiling.
Soo-min had had enough.
"It's fine. I don't need your fancy paint. I'll still get an A+ without it," she said flatly, walking ahead of them without looking back.
Crap. Why did I say that?!
That night, after working on her painting for six straight hours, Soo-min finally packed up. She covered her piece with a white cloth the school provided and got ready to leave.
But not long after she was gone, someone in a black hoodie stood silently in front of her artwork.
____
"I'm home..."
The house felt oddly quiet. Her dad wasn't there. Soo-min, starving from skipping meals, immediately went to the kitchen to cook instant noodles.
But, of course, her peace didn't last. He came home, looking angrier than usual.
"Oh, you've still got the nerve to eat? Do you know I got beat up 'cause I didn't have my betting money?!" he barked, pointing at a fresh bruise above his eye.
Soo-min ignored him and focused on the pot.
CRASH!
She turned at the sound. The soju bottle had shattered in his hand, leaving a sharp, jagged edge.
Panic set in. She ran for her room, but he was faster. Before she could escape, he grabbed the pot of boiling noodles and hurled it at her. It hit her back, and the burning pain made her scream.
She collapsed.
Then, without a word, Han Il-nam—her father—began beating her with the broken bottle.