Ji-eun has always loved her routine. She was the type of person who thrived on being predictable, who took comfort in the humdrum of the everyday. Waking up to the sound of her alarm, rushing through her morning ritual, and hurrying to school with the familiar weight of her backpack, these small, repetitive actions were her security blanket.

That morning, as the blaring beep of her alarm clock jolted her from a peaceful sleep, Ji-eun groaned and blindly reached for the off button. The light from the early morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting her room in soft, golden light, but it did little to lift the exhaustion that clung to her like a second skin.

“Another late morning,” she muttered to herself, slamming the clock off before rubbing her eyes. The clock blinked 7:00 AM, mocking her.

Ji-eun’s hand shot out to silence the noise once again, but it was already too late. She had overslept.

Her morning, as expected, was a chaotic rush. With quick movements, Ji-eun brushed her teeth, fixed her hair into a simple ponytail, and stuffed her books into her already too full bag. The clock ticked closer to 7:15 AM, and she barely had enough time to tie her shoes before rushing out of her room.

Her parents had already left for work. She barely saw them in the mornings, another reason why she prided herself on her ability to get by on her own. There was no time for breakfast today. Grabbing a piece of toast as she sprinted through the door, Ji-eun didn’t even bother to lock it behind her. She never did.

Running down the street toward school, her footsteps echoed in rhythm with her heartbeat. It wasn’t the first time she’d been late, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She’d never understood why she couldn’t manage to wake up earlier or leave the house on time, but it was part of her daily struggle. There was always something more important to finish or another minute to sleep through.

As she turned a corner, a figure caught her eye standing casually by the school gate, leaning against the iron fence with hands tucked into his pockets. His posture was relaxed, as if he had nowhere to be and no worries to weigh him down. And yet, there was something about him.

It was the new transfer student, Min-jae. The moment Ji-eun locked eyes with him, she felt a slight flutter in her chest, though she quickly dismissed it as nothing. She had no time to waste on strangers, especially ones who looked like they belonged in the pages of a magazine.

She sped past him, too focused on making it to class to pay much attention. But just as she passed, she felt her shoulder touch his. “Oops. Sorry,” she muttered, not looking back.

Min-jae didn’t seem offended in the slightest. He simply watched her continue on her way, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Later that morning, Ji-eun sat in her usual seat in the classroom, half-listening to the teacher’s lecture. She had always been a good student, but today, her thoughts kept drifting. It wasn’t the lesson that was distracting her it was the new guy.

Min-jae had been introduced at the beginning of the period, but Ji-eun hadn’t really been paying attention. She’d been too busy organizing her notes, trying to ignore the fact that she was late and hoping no one would notice her disheveled appearance. But when the teacher had pointed to the empty seat next to her, she couldn’t help but look up. And there he was Min-jae, standing with his easy smile.

She barely had time to process what was happening before he was sitting next to her, his presence filling the space around her like a force of nature. Ji-eun shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on her textbook, but the seat beside her seemed to grow warmer with every passing second.

“Hey,” Min-jae said, his voice calm and warm, as though they had known each other for years instead of seconds. “I’m Min-jae. Looks like we’re seatmates.”

Ji-eun blinked, caught off guard by his casual approach. She’d expected him to be the type who would act distant, but instead, he was looking at her with open curiosity, as if he wanted to know everything about her without even trying.

“Hi,” Ji-eun replied curtly, feeling her cheeks heat up for some reason. She quickly turned back to her book, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it. She wasn’t the type to engage in small talk, especially not with someone like him.

Min-jae didn’t seem bothered by her aloofness. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the room before they returned to her. “You seem… interesting,” he said with a grin. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to figure out who everyone is here.”

Ji-eun felt her stomach flutter again, but she quickly pushed the sensation aside. She wasn’t about to let some transfer student throw off her focus. She was used to being alone, and she preferred it that way.

After school, Ji-eun found herself walking out the gates when Min-jae suddenly appeared at her side. She didn’t notice him at first, too lost in her own thoughts but then she heard his voice.

“Wait up!” he called out, jogging a few steps to match her pace.

Ji-eun glanced over, startled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m walking you home,” Min-jae said, grinning. “I figured we could talk some more.”

“I don’t need anyone to walk me home,” Ji-eun replied quickly, her voice firm. “It’s fine, really.”

Min-jae didn’t seem to be bothered by her rejection. Instead, he kept pace with her, making small talk about the school, his impressions of it, and random facts about himself that Ji-eun didn’t ask for but couldn’t avoid. She tried to ignore him, but his presence was undeniable.

“I’m serious,” Ji-eun said when they reached her street. “You have to stop following me.”

Min-jae grinned, unbothered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ji-eun.”

She didn’t know why, but there was something about him that intrigued her but…. no it couldn't be. No way.

That night, Ji-eun sat at her desk, reflecting on the day. Her thoughts drifted back to Min-jae. He was different from anyone she’d met before, too confident, too outgoing, too persistent. She couldn’t quite figure him out.

“Why does he keep bothering me?” Ji-eun murmured, but as she said the words, a small smile tugged at her lips. She quickly wiped it away, shaking her head.

The day was over, but somehow, it felt like it was only just beginning.