Amélie had arrived.
She walked in with the same effortless confidence, dressed in a trendy, eye-catching party outfit that made her stand out in the crowd. She smiled brightly, as if enjoying the attention, and behind her was Max Beaumont, a handsome man with a presence that matched his expensive suit. He was the heir to one of the biggest hotel chains in Paris, and everyone could tell from the way he carried himself that he belonged to the city's elite.
The crowd welcomed them both with cheers and applause, and Amélie graciously accepted the attention, smiling and chatting with her friends. She and Max were the stars of the night.
Hyorin felt a tightness in her chest as she watched the scene unfold. This was it—Amélie was here. And with her, the unresolved tension from that argument two years ago seemed to hang in the air. Could they finally make peace, or was this going to be another night of distance and awkwardness?
The music kept thumping, the laughter and chatter flowed around her, but Hyorin couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in this world of extravagance and old wounds. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face Amélie yet, or if she'd even have the chance to clear the air.
The music was deafening, the dim lights and laughter around her only amplified Hyorin's sense of isolation. She had come with the hope of mending things with Amélie, but as the minutes passed, it became clearer that this wasn't the opportunity she thought it would be. Amélie was busy entertaining the guests, completely ignoring Hyorin's presence. She felt out of place and uncomfortable, surrounded by people she barely knew, and after a while, Hyorin decided it was best to leave.
As she turned toward the door, a voice suddenly called out, stopping her mid-step.
"Hyorin!"
She froze, recognizing Amélie's voice. Slowly, Hyorin turned around, surprised to see her standing near the bar, a glass of wine in hand. The moment their eyes met, the room seemed to grow quiet, everyone around them now aware of the tension between the two.
Amélie's smile was tight, but there was an edge to it. "I'm glad you showed up," she said, her tone louder than necessary for the occasion. Hyorin didn't know whether it was meant to mock her or to make her feel uncomfortable, but she smiled politely nonetheless.
"Happy Birthday, Amélie," Hyorin said, forcing the words out, her voice steady despite the lump forming in her throat.
Amélie's smile didn't falter, but there was something in her eyes—something sharp, something accusing. "It's been two years, hasn't it?" she said, her tone colder now.
Hyorin nodded slowly, confusion creeping in. "Yes," she answered, the past two years feeling like a distant blur.
Amélie took a sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving Hyorin. "Two years since you warned me about Max. You told me he would leave me. But here we are, still together. Two years later."
Hyorin flinched, the sting of those words cutting deeper than she anticipated. She had never meant to hurt Amélie; she had only tried to warn her—warn her about Max Beaumont, the man who had tormented her. But look at us now, Amélie seemed to say, as if Hyorin's concerns had been meaningless.
"I didn't mean it like that," Hyorin began, but Amélie interrupted her.
"Don't lie to me, Hyorin. You didn't just warn me; you tried to make me believe he would leave me. You made it sound like he was a terrible person," Amélie's voice raised as her frustration became evident.
Two years ago, on a long flight from Korea to Paris, Max Beaumont had been one of the first-class passengers. He had harassed her during the entire flight—flirting relentlessly and pushing boundaries. When she'd tried to ignore him, he only got worse. He had followed her around, cornered her in the galley, and made crude comments. She had fought back, but when he'd made one last attempt, trying to force himself on her, she'd had enough. She had kicked him, using the self-defense techniques she had learned from Taekwondo.
Max had complained to the airline, and the company had settled it privately, asking Hyorin to be more careful in the future. But the memory of what he had done haunted her.
What was worse was that Amélie had introduced him as her boyfriend only a few months later, oblivious to the fact that Max had already spun a story to manipulate the situation, claiming Hyorin had been the one chasing him. That lie had led to a fight between her and Amélie—a fight that had ruined their friendship. Amélie had misunderstood everything, and Hyorin had been left hurt and abandoned by the one person she thought she could trust.
Hyorin felt a knot tighten in her chest, but before she could respond, Amélie's next words were a sharp blow. "How about you and Wuchan, huh? I heard he's dating Yuna now. Isn't that funny?"
The words hung in the air, stinging more than they should. "What are you talking about?" Hyorin asked, trying to understand, but Amélie's smirk only deepened.
"Why don't you check Wuchan's recent Instagram post? I'm sure that will make everything clearer," Amélie said, her voice now dripping with mockery.
Hyorin, already overwhelmed, didn't say another word. She turned quickly and made her way out of the venue, feeling the weight of Amélie's words pressing down on her.
Outside, she pulled out her phone with shaking hands, her mind clouded with confusion and doubt. She opened Instagram and immediately saw Wuchan's latest post. There he was, smiling, his arm around Yuna, and the caption read, #NewBeginnings #LuckyToHaveHer. Hyorin felt a pang in her chest, her mind racing as she tried to process the meaning of it all. Wuchan's moving on already? she thought. But he told her he was giving up…
But what hurt the most was seeing Yuna in the picture. Yuna, her best friend. The same Yuna who had once confided in Hyorin about liking someone. Hyorin hadn't even suspected that it could be Wuchan. And now, seeing them together, it felt like a slap in the face.
Hyorin pushed the phone back into her bag and wiped at her eyes, trying to clear her head. It doesn't matter, she told herself. She had made the decision to walk away from Wuchan, and she had no right to feel upset. But still, seeing him with Yuna... it hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Feeling burdened by everything weighing on me, I decided to take a walk along the Seine River to clear my head. The tranquil water and calm atmosphere seemed like the perfect place to gather my thoughts and take a moment for myself. As I stepped out of the car, I breathed in the cool Parisian air and made my way toward the river.
Just as I was finding some peace, my phone suddenly rang. I glanced at the screen, and it was my mom calling. A small smile tugged at my lips. Even in the midst of all the chaos, I could always rely on her to bring some comfort.
I answered the phone as I walked along the river, the sounds of the bustling city fading into the background. "How's the flight?" she asked, her voice soft and caring.
"It was good," I replied, but hearing her voice made the tears I had been holding back finally spill over. I didn't even realize I was on the verge of crying until I felt the tears on my cheeks.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her concern clear in her voice.
I wiped my eyes quickly, not wanting her to worry. "Yes, Eomma. Can you come to Incheon to visit me? I miss your Kimchi Stew," I said, trying to lighten the mood and push away the emotions swirling inside me.
She chuckled softly. "I wrote the recipe down in my notebook. You can check it and cook it for yourself."
I pouted, not ready to cook for myself. "That's rude, mom. I want you to cook it for me," I said, sulking a little, even though I knew she was only trying to help.
"Hyorin," she said gently, her voice full of affection.
"Yes, Eomma?" I asked, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.
"You know your dad and I love you, right?" she said, her voice tender, like a warm hug over the phone.
I smiled softly at her words. "I know, Eomma," I whispered.
There was a slight change in her breathing, and I realized she was exerting herself. "Are you running? You sound out of breath," I said, a little surprised.
"Oh, yeah," she replied casually. "I'm jogging. My feet started to numb, so I'm just getting in some exercise."
I couldn't help but laugh a little. "I see. Take care, Eomma. I love you and dad more," I said, feeling a bit lighter after our conversation.
"Take care too," she replied, and we ended the call.
I glanced at the time, noticing it was 2 AM back in Korea. Why is she exercising at this hour? I thought briefly but decided not to dwell on it too much. My mom had always been a night owl, doing things on her own terms.
As I walked along the river, lost in my thoughts of my mom and everything going on back home, I overheard a conversation from a nearby group.
"That man is my type," one voice said.
"He's so handsome, is he a celebrity?" another person added.
"A K-pop artist, maybe?" someone else mused.
Curious, I turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. There, walking in the opposite direction along the river, was none other than Mr. Yi. He wasn't paying attention to me at first, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he walked in the other direction.
But then, when I called out to him, something unexpected happened. He turned toward me, his gaze locking with mine. To my surprise, he began walking in my direction.
"Mr. Yi!" I called again, my voice a little unsure but hopeful that he might notice me.
His steps slowed as he drew closer, and I could feel the flutter in my chest as he approached. The world around me seemed to quiet, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing on the banks of the Seine.
I didn't know what to say, but before I could gather my thoughts, something completely unexpected happened. A hand suddenly covered my mouth from behind, and panic surged through me. I struggled to break free, but everything around me went dark, and I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I found myself lying on the bed in my hotel room, disoriented and confused. My mind was foggy, trying to piece together the last thing I remembered. Suddenly, a knock at the door broke through my thoughts.
"Hyorin? Captain said we have to prepare now. The VIPs are coming any minute now," a voice called out.
I sat up quickly, grabbing my phone to check the time. My heart skipped a beat as I saw it was already 7:30 PM. How long have I been asleep?
Panic flooded me. I had no idea what happened between the time I lost consciousness at the Seine River and waking up now. Without wasting any more time, I rushed to change into my uniform, fixing my hair and makeup as quickly as I could. My hands trembled slightly, the confusion still gnawing at me, but I couldn't let it show. I had to focus.
Once I was ready, I grabbed my things and left my room, finding the rest of the crew already boarding the bus. We were headed to the airport to meet the VIPs. I stepped on, still trying to shake off the overwhelming sense of disorientation that lingered.
As we made our way to the airport, my mind kept drifting back to the events at the Seine River. I thought I had been kidnapped. Someone had covered my mouth and knocked me out—so how was I back here at the hotel? It didn't make sense.
I turned to Haneul, who was sitting beside me, and asked, "What happened? How did I get back to the hotel?"
She looked at me, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"
I repeated the question, "Who brought me back to the hotel?"
Haneul's brow furrowed in confusion. "You don't remember coming back? Did you get drunk or something?"
"No, I didn't. But I swear, I did not come back there on my own. I remember someone covering my mouth and then I blacked out," I said, my voice shaking slightly.
The rest of the crew heard me and Haneul talking and started glancing back at us, giving me strange looks.
"You slept too much, Hyorin," one of the other flight attendants said dismissively, clearly not taking me seriously.
I was about to respond when Captain Kim spoke up from the front, "Alright, we're here."
I could feel my heart racing again, the confusion still clouding my thoughts, but there was no time to dwell on it. The bus came to a stop, and we all got out. As I stepped onto the tarmac, I tried to shake off the lingering uncertainty. I need to focus on my work now. The VIPs are here, and I can't let this affect anything.
But the question still gnawed at me—what really happened at the river? Who brought me back to the hotel? And why was I so sure someone had taken me?
As we prepared for the VIPs' arrival, I couldn't help but hope that Mr. Yi would be among them. But when they finally stepped off the plane, my heart sank as I realized he wasn't there. The familiar anxiety in the pit of my stomach made me wonder—why wasn't he with them?
Captain Kim and Mrs. Go, our senior flight attendant, took charge of greeting the VIPs, and the crew began to board the plane. I was still in charge of the first-class section, but now there was only one passenger occupying the seats. I couldn't help but glance at the empty seat where Mr. Yi should've been, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I wanted to ask about him so badly, but I knew it was inappropriate. There was no real reason for me to pry into the whereabouts of one of the VIPs, especially since I hadn't even spoken to him directly.
Still, the thought of him lingered in my mind as we made our way back to Korea. As we finally took off from Paris at 8 PM, I tried to push those questions out of my head and focus on the work ahead. The flight was long, and I focused on my duties—serving drinks, checking on the passenger, making sure everything was running smoothly. But in the back of my mind, I kept wondering why he hadn't shown up and whether I'd ever see him again.
The flight was uneventful, and by the time we arrived at Incheon International Airport around 3 PM, I was beyond exhausted.
My mind was still preoccupied with everything that had happened in Paris—the unexpected meeting with Mr. Yi at the Seine River, the strange feeling of being kidnapped, and the lingering thoughts about Wuchan and Yuna.
Once my work was done, I didn't even bother staying around at the airport or socializing with the crew. I was too tired, both physically and emotionally, to do anything other than go home. The car ride was a blur, and before I knew it, I was lying on my bed, trying to process everything that had happened during my time in Paris.
I closed my eyes, replaying every moment in my head—the unexpected encounter with Mr. Yi, the hurtful things Amélie said, the confusion about Wuchan and Yuna, and the unsettling feeling of waking up in my hotel room without knowing how I got there. It felt like everything was piling on top of me at once, and I didn't know how to make sense of it all
(Next Day)
I woke up when I heard someone knocking at my door. My mind was still hazy from sleep, and I wasn't sure what time it was. Instinctively, I reached for the baseball bat that I kept in my closet, my hand trembling slightly as I gripped it. I slowly approached the door, every step deliberate, unsure of who it could be at this hour.
"Who are you?" I called out cautiously, my voice a little shaky, still half lost in the fog of sleep.
"It's me, Mihun," a voice replied from the other side, and I immediately recognized it. My grip on the bat loosened, but I still felt the need to be cautious.
I quickly opened the door, and Mihun was standing there, looking somewhat amused.
"Woah, are you really going to hit me with that?" he said, laughing as he looked down at the bat in my hand.
I couldn't help but chuckle nervously, realizing how ridiculous I must've looked. "I'm sorry, Oppa. I was just being careful," I said, sheepishly putting the bat back in the closet.
"That's fine," he said with a shrug, clearly unbothered by the situation. "By the way, get dressed. We need to go somewhere."
"Where?" I asked, confused as I glanced at the time on my phone, which read 5 AM.
"Just get dressed," he said, his tone more urgent now.
"But I have work... I need to get ready," I protested, still trying to make sense of everything.
"Hyorin!" Mihun said, catching my attention. "Your mom's in the hospital."
My heart immediately dropped into my stomach. I froze for a moment, staring at him. "What? What do you mean? Is she okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my hands starting to shake.
"I can't tell you all the details yet, but you won't find out unless you come with me," he said, his expression serious now.
Without another word, I quickly changed into something more comfortable and followed him out to the car, my mind racing with worry about my mom. The drive to Yeonghwa Medical Center felt like an eternity.
As we arrived at the hospital and entered the room, the sight of Aunt Jihyun and Rina crying stopped me in my tracks. And then, my eyes fell on my mother, laying in the hospital bed. Bruises marred her face, and her body looked almost unrecognizable. Tears welled up in my eyes as I rushed to her side.
"Who did this? Why would they do this to you?" I whispered, my voice breaking with sorrow as I cried.
"I'm so sorry, Hyorin," Aunt Jihyun said, her voice filled with grief, as she comforted me.
"What happened, Imo?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"I don't know either. But your mom just finished her surgery, and thankfully, it was successful," Aunt Jihyun replied.
"Surgery? What kind of surgery? I was just talking to her last night," I said, unable to believe what was happening.
"What time was that?" Mihun asked, his voice strangely quiet.
"2 AM," I replied, still in shock.
"2 AM…" Mihun repeated under his breath, his gaze distant.
"By the way, where's Appa?" I asked, looking around. But when no one responded, I asked again, my voice rising in panic. "Where is Dad?"
Mihun's expression darkened. "He's in the mortuary."
"Mortuary? Why?" My voice was shaking now. Something in my gut told me this was bad.
"They found his body at your house, in Seoul" Mihun said, his words cutting through me like a knife. "He had multiple gunshot wounds all over his body."
My world seemed to shatter in an instant. I couldn't comprehend what I was hearing. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, unable to process the flood of emotions and shock. I felt numb.
"Y-you're lying!" I gasped, trying to push away the reality of what he just told me. "No... No, this can't be true. My appa... my appa is..." My voice faltered, unable to form the words.
Aunt Jihyun and Rina rushed to my side, helping me back into the chair by my mom's bedside. I felt a cold sweat break out across my forehead as the room seemed to spin around me. My breath came in short, shallow gasps.
"I have to see him. I have to see appa," I said, standing up, my body trembling. I wanted to feel something, anything, to make sense of this.
"No, Hyorin," Aunt Jihyun said gently, pulling me back down. "It's not the right time. We need to focus on your mom right now."
I sat back down, my head spinning with the weight of the situation. I looked at my mom again, my heart aching for her. How could someone do this to her? To our family? How could someone take my father away from me like that?
I clutched my hands together tightly, trying to hold myself together.
"Who would do this to us?" I whispered, the question hanging in the air, unanswered.
Mihun stepped forward, his face serious. "We'll find out, Hyorin. I promise you. We'll find out who did this."
After an hour of sitting in the sterile hospital room, my mind still swirling with confusion, I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to pull myself together, but when the door opened, a few men in black suits entered the room. Their presence was sharp, their faces stoic and unreadable.
I stood up instinctively, my heart racing. Something about them felt off, and I could feel my body tense, my guard immediately going up. I wasn't sure what to expect from them, but my instincts told me to be cautious.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shakier than I intended.
The men didn't immediately respond. Instead, they exchanged glances, and then one of them stepped forward. To my shock, he bowed deeply, showing respect.
"Good Morning, Lady Han," he said, his voice low but firm. "Her Highness wishes to speak with you. Please come with us."
I froze. Lady Han? Her Highness? What were they talking about? My mind raced to try and process the words, but I was too confused. Was this some sort of mistake or prank? None of this made any sense.
"What are you talking about?" I asked again, this time more demanding. I wasn't about to let them control the situation.
Before I could say anything more, Mihun stepped forward, his face suddenly serious.
"Go with them, Hyorin. I mean, Lady Han," he said, and there was something in his tone that made me stop in my tracks. It wasn't like him to speak with such authority.
"Lady Han? What is going on?" I asked, looking at Mihun for answers, but his face was unreadable.
Aunt Jihyun and Rina, who had been sitting quietly by my side, didn't seem surprised at all. Why weren't they reacting? Didn't they understand how strange all of this was? I looked back at them, searching for some hint of an explanation, but they just looked… fine. Too calm for the situation at hand.
"What? Why? Who is this 'Her Highness'?" I demanded again, my mind spinning with even more questions.
Mihun's voice dropped a little lower, almost like a warning. "Show some respect, Hyorin. If you want to understand everything, Her Highness can answer all your questions."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. Her Highness? Why hadn't anyone told me about this before? And why was Mihun speaking to me like this? I could barely keep up with everything that was happening, but I knew one thing for sure: I needed answers.