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Fanboy + Fangirl

villansummer
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Synopsis
In Fanboy + Fangirl, two lives intertwine in a charming tale of hidden admiration and unexpected connections. Lee Ye Jun, popularly known as Lee Ye, is a famous singer who secretly adores the work of a rising writer, Ahn Seo Yeon. Unknown to him, she is also his biggest fan. When unfortunate circumstances lead Seo Yeon to become his housekeeper, she discovers that her favorite celebrity and longtime crush, Lee Ye is now her boss. Lee Ye, craving a normal life away from the cameras, has one strict rule when hiring staff, they cannot be fans. Unknown to him, the writer he dreams of collaborating with for his first acting project is Seo Yeon. As their paths cross, neither realizes they are fans of each other. With twists and turns at every corner, their lives become a delightful mix of secrets and surprises. Will they ever uncover the truth?
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Chapter 1 - Good Omen

"Don't leave anything, boys."

"Take the bed too. Yes, and the fan."

"I still think we should just take her to the doctor and get her kidney for sale."

I stand by the door, watching them rummage through my tiny apartment, laughing as they take my belongings. By the time they are done, there is nothing left but an empty shell. Even my curtains are gone.

As they pass by me and out of my apartment, their leader grabs my shoulder harshly, but I am already too numb to feel the pain. "We will come for you next month. You must pay what you owe, girl." He releases me, his heavy body bumping my shoulder as he exits the room, making me stumble and nearly fall to the floor. I am about to close the door when someone steps inside. It is her—my wretched aunt.

"Damn, they really stripped your apartment bare. Well, you never had much in here," she says, surveying the room before fixing her gaze on me. "Make sure you pay them on time next month, dear."

"I really do feel sorry for you, poor girl. Your father did nothing for you while he was alive, and now that he's dead, all he left behind are a bunch of loan sharks after all the debts he owed. You don't have a choice. He is your father after all."

I scoff at her words. "My father? Was he not your brother?"

She looks at me as if I have thrown a bucket of ice at her. "Why should I pay for his debts? He is your father, not mine."

"Why the hell do I have to be the one paying for his debts then?" I yell, taking her by surprise. "Because he is my father?"

I scoff again. "The man didn't even look after me when he was alive. Grandma raised me all on her own. Why is he ruining my life even after he's gone? I don't deserve this."

"Why? Just why are you all after my life?" I step closer to her in anger, and she takes several steps back, looking afraid. "And you had to bring the loan sharks here?"

"What else do you want me to do? They came to me asking for money. I had to bring them to you—his daughter!" She yells as she pushes past me and runs out of the room.

"May God punish you, you terrible woman!" I yell as I break down in tears.

As if that isn't enough, the landlord also drops by. He can't look me in the eyes as he speaks. "I'm sorry, but you can't afford to pay all the rent you owe for months now. I think it's better if you leave. A new tenant is coming to inspect the apartment tomorrow."

I gather what little I have left and put it in a box before turning off the lights and leaving the room.

My name is Ahn Seo Yeon. I am twenty-five years old. Grandma told me my mother dreamt that I was flying gracefully when she was pregnant with me. She went to a fortune teller who told her it was a good omen. After I was born, she named me Ahn Seo Yeon, meaning "felicitous omen and graceful," plus my last name interpreted as "Peace or tranquility," but I doubt she knew my life would be the total opposite. My entire life always feels like a huge storm, far from being graceful or peaceful. I wish I could find that scam of a fortune teller and get back the money my mother paid.

I love to write so I majored in writing in college and became a writer after graduation, but the pay isn't great considering I'm not yet a big shot. Other famous writers earn decent amounts because they have garnered millions of readers. They get paid for public appearances or features in magazines and interviews. In my case, I barely have ten thousand monthly readers.

To be honest, if it weren't for all these debts, maybe my life could have been better—but then there are Grandma's nursing home bills, my student loans, my late father's debts, rent, living expenses... It's just so much.

At the bus station, I sit on a bench thinking about who to call. I don't exactly have friends, but there is one person who might let me crash at her place while I figure things out.

The bus arrives, and I get up, boarding with intentions of going to see a girl I shared a room with back in college. We aren't exactly close, but one could say we are friends. After about fifty minutes, I arrive at her doorstep. Setting my luggage aside, I press the doorbell and wait for her to answer.

She looks taken aback when she sees me at her door but even more surprised when she notices my box. Her smile appears forced, and I feel my chest tighten with embarrassment. This is a bad idea. 

"Seon Yeon! Hi girl! What are you doing here out of the blue?"

I don't know what to say because I am too embarrassed. Instead, I stand there with a giant smile plastered on my face—I must look ridiculous.

"Uhm, hi Ji Soo! Long time."

"Haha yes! Been a long time since we last saw each other." She forces a laugh as her eyes keep darting toward my box, expecting an explanation.

I open my mouth to speak when a male voice calls from inside her apartment, "Who is that babe?"

"Sorry, my boyfriend! Give me a minute," she whispers urgently before turning around to enter her room.

She fails to shut the door properly as it swings slightly ajar, I instinctively reach out to close it but freeze when I overhear their conversation.

"I know right? So weird! Why would she even come to me to crash at my place? We're not even friends," she says.

My head falls as shame washes over me. Quietly shutting the door behind me as I leave feels like an act of defeat.

As night falls, darkness wraps around me like a heavy blanket. Dark clouds swirl above, signaling a storm that mirrors my own troubles. Suddenly, the rain pours down hard just as I step onto the wet pavement outside the bus stop. Each drop feels like nature reflecting my sadness.

I drag my box behind me with weary determination, trying to avoid the growing puddles on the street. Just then, loud thunderclaps rumble overhead, startling me and making my heart race. I stumble, losing my balance and falling to the ground, the box tumbling beside me.

As I struggle to get back on my feet, a tall figure appears from the shadows, standing out against the rain-soaked streets. He's handsome, holding a big black umbrella that looks like a safe haven in this storm.

"Do you need help?" His voice is deep yet gentle, concern etched across his striking features as he looks down at me.

"No," I reply quickly. Pride and embarrassment push me to refuse his offer, also last thing I wish for is to break down in tears in the presence of a stranger.

He looks at me for a moment longer, his gaze warm yet intense, almost making my heart race—a brief connection in the middle of all this chaos. Then, without saying a word, he hands me the umbrella, leaving it in my hands to protect me from the downpour. Pulling his hoodie tightly over his head to shield himself from the rain, he turns away and dashes toward a sleek black car parked nearby.

As he disappears into the night, leaving me standing beneath his umbrella, one thing is certain… mom was totally wrong.

Good omen, my ass.