By the time Song Hae-won opened her eyes, the house was already loud.
Not with customers—yet—but with voices. Sharp ones. Excited ones. The kind that traveled through thin walls and kitchens.
"I saw her name!"
"Min-ji said it's real!"
"Does she even own a blazer?"
"She's awake!" Min-ji's voice came with the slam of the bedroom curtain flying open.
Hae-won blinked into the daylight. Min-ji was standing at the foot of her mattress, hair in curlers, holding up her phone like it was proof of a miracle.
"You. Went. Viral."
Hae-won tried to sit up, but Min-ji was already shoving the screen into her face. There it was—her name on a bulletin board, circled in red. The caption said:
"Baekhyun's Cinderella: Plucked from Nowhere"
Thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. A few calling it fake. A few already tagging her name.
She wasn't just on the list.
She was the only one from their entire district. The only name that didn't belong to a chaebol heir, a politician's niece, or someone with a six-figure math tutor. Just a noodle shop girl with patchy Wi-Fi and slippers that squeaked like rubber ducks on rainy days.
That's why it blew up.
She wasn't what anyone expected.
Which made her exactly what the story needed.
"What?? I didn't even apply," Hae-won muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"That's the best part," Min-ji grinned. "You just slept through it like some chosen one in a K-drama. Meanwhile, the whole country's losing its mind."
--
The house was chaos.
People knocked on the door "by accident." Customers came early, pretending to want fish cakes just to peek into the living room. The postman delivered a basket of ginseng and asked to take a selfie with her. A neighbor sent over a tray of steamed buns, with a note that said, "We always knew you were special." (They hadn't.)
Even her little sister walked around holding a ladle like a microphone, announcing to no one, "My sister goes to Baekhyun now! You may bow!"
At the center of it all, her mother set down a tray of kimchi pancakes and said softly, "Eat something."
Her father, sitting by the window with his reading glasses halfway down his nose, was holding an envelope. Thick, cream-colored, with gold print. No return address. Just her name.
"They said they'll provide everything," he said, carefully. "Uniform, textbooks, transport. Orientation's in two weeks."
He didn't hand her the letter. Just nodded and folded it back up.
---
Across the street, the lady from the laundry shop smiled at her. The same one who once told her not to "dream too big." She waved. Like they were friends. Like she hadn't said what she said.
The old men at the corner convenience store called her "our neighborhood genius." One of them offered her a soda on the house.
Another ajumma whispered too loudly, "Now she's too good to greet people, eh?" and clucked her tongue.
Everything felt strange. Noisy.
She stood in the doorway of the noodle shop in her mismatched pajamas, her hair a mess, and said loudly, without looking at anyone.
"… Can I please eat first?!"
—
By noon, someone hung a sign outside the shop.
"Congratulations to Baekhyun Academy's Newest Student: SONG HAE-WON!"
By 2 p.m., a reporter from a local radio station showed up and tried to interview her over a bowl of kimchi noodles.
---
That night, she went up to the rooftop with a bowl of instant ramyeon. Min-ji followed with her phone and a popsicle.
"They keep tagging your name with stuff like 'Baekhyun Cinderella' and 'Scholarship Queen,'" Min-ji said, mouth full. "how do you feel?"
Hae-won shook her head.
"I didn't earn this," she said, almost too quietly. "They just needed someone to make it look fair. To fix their mess."
"Maybe," Min-ji said. "But they still picked you."
Hae-won didn't answer. She just looked up at the stars, wondering how it all happened like she was still dreaming.
Min-ji stared at her like she'd just grown wings. "Do you realize what this means? You're going to Baekhyun. Baekhyun. People literally sell their kidneys for that."
"Huh huh" Hae-won whispered.
Min-ji was still talking, pacing like a caffeine-fueled manager. "Do you know how many people would kill for this? And they're paying for everything. Uniforms, books, housing, transport—"
"That's good," Hae-won said almost to herself, choking back a bitter laugh. "At least my parents won't have to worry about the bills."
She didn't say the rest of it out loud.That she wouldn't be here to help out at the shop during rush hours. That her little sister would have no one to complain to when she got in trouble at school. That her father would have to lift the heavy boxes himself now. That maybe, just maybe—they wouldn't miss her at all.
Min-ji must've read something in her face, because she nudged her shoulder gently. "Hey. They're gonna be fine. You're not going to the moon. You're just going to school. A really fancy one where the toilets probably have gold buttons."
Hae-won gave a small, crooked smile. "Right."
"I just don't know what kind of story this is going to be," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. "I wanted a quiet life, and this... this isn't quiet. This school is loud and shiny and terrifying, Min-ji."
Min-ji let out a soft sound and pulled her into a hug. "You're going to be fine," she said firmly. "You're my strongest friend. Okay, technically, you're my only friend—but still. You're Hae-won. Even I'm a little scared of you."
She pulled back, grabbed Hae-won by the shoulders, and looked her dead in the eyes.
"Now go give them hell."