The last thing Suyee remembered was the blinding light. The moment she was struck by a car while crossing the road in Myanmar, she felt her life slipping away, her body falling to the ground, unable to move. But now... now she was awake.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped, confused. The room was different. The sounds were different. The faint hum of traffic outside the window, the subtle click of a smartphone screen. The air was colder, crisper.
"Jin-ah?" A voice called out from beside her, warm and concerned.
She blinked, trying to focus. Who was Jin-ah? She wasn't Jin-ah. She was Suyee, a girl from Myanmar... wasn't she?
But when she looked in the mirror, the reflection staring back was not hers. Instead of the soft, tan skin she once knew, her new face had pale, flawless skin, and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Her hair, once a thick black, now flowed in smooth waves, the color more muted than she remembered. She felt... different. Not just in appearance, but in every fiber of her being.
"Jin-ah, are you okay? You seem... different today." The voice came again, more insistent this time.
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside, her expression a mix of worry and curiosity. She looked familiar, yet Suyee didn't recognize her. Was this her family? But it couldn't be, she didn't have any family in Korea—at least, she didn't think so.
"Uh... I'm fine," Suyee stammered, surprised at how foreign her voice sounded. She tried to sit up, but the weight of the situation, of this new life, overwhelmed her. "Who are you?"
The woman looked puzzled. "Jin-ah, you really scared me. It's Mom, remember? Are you sure you're alright?"
Mom. The word sent a strange, bittersweet pang through her chest. But this wasn't her mom, this wasn't her life. This wasn't Myanmar.
With a trembling hand, she reached for her phone, almost instinctively. The lock screen greeted her with a photo of a smiling family. Her family? Jin-ah's family? The name Jin-ah glared back at her in bold, white letters on the screen, confirming what she feared—this was Jin-ah's life now.
"Maybe... maybe I need to rest," Suyee mumbled, trying to make sense of the strange situation. The world around her felt like a blur, her mind racing to process what was happening.
Mom sighed, nodding, but there was still concern in her eyes. "If you're sure. But don't push yourself too hard."
Suyee watched as her "mom" left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. She was alone. The silence in the room felt suffocating, the weight of this new life pressing down on her chest. She had been reborn, but at what cost?
She glanced around again, noticing a stack of textbooks on the desk—textbooks she didn't recognize. The walls, adorned with posters of idols and groups, were unfamiliar too. Was this the life Jin-ah had lived? A life of fame, of culture she didn't know? A world so far removed from the simplicity of her past in Myanmar.
But there was one thing she couldn't ignore. A strange, exciting feeling bubbled inside her chest. This life—Jin-ah's life—was full of opportunities. The bustling streets of Seoul, the bright lights, the endless possibilities. It was overwhelming, but it was also... thrilling.
Suyee took a deep breath. She didn't know how or why this was happening, but one thing was clear: she had to make the most of this second chance. Even if it meant pretending to be someone she wasn't. Even if it meant navigating a world she didn't understand.
And as she tried to steady her nerves, another thought crossed her mind—an unfamiliar name popped up in her head. Jae-hyun. A face she couldn't place but somehow felt connected to.
Was it destiny? Or was it simply the next step in her journey?