A/N:FREYA AND KEIFER ARE FRIENDS AND ON GOOD TERMS
Keifer hadn't slept.
Not after the awards.
Not after seeing her.
Not after hearing her voice say his name like it meant nothing.
His hotel room was dark.
Curtains still closed.
Suit jacket thrown on the chair.
Tie on the floor.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
The same moment kept replaying.
"Do I know you?"
He let out a dry laugh.
"…Yeah. That one hurt."
He leaned back slowly, running a hand through his hair.
For eleven years, he thought he had control over that memory.
That day.
That plan.
That version of himself.
He thought he could carry it.
Ignore it.
Move on.
But last night—
seeing her standing there,
strong,
unreachable,
not breaking,
not even shaking—
it cracked something he didn't know was still holding him together.
His phone buzzed.
Rory.
He didn't pick up.
Another buzz.
Edrix.
Ignored.
Then—
Freya.
He stared at the name for a few seconds.
Then picked up.
"…What."
Her voice came careful.
"Did you sleep?"
He scoffed.
"No."
Silence.
Then—
"We went to her."
His body stilled.
"…What?"
"All of us."
His jaw tightened.
"You what?"
"We apologized."
Silence.
Then his voice dropped.
"…And?"
Freya took a breath.
"She forgave us."
That hit.
Hard.
He looked down at his hands.
"…Of course she did."
Freya hesitated.
"Not you."
His chest tightened.
"…I didn't ask if she forgave me."
"You don't have to ask. You know she didn't."
Silence filled the call.
Then he said quietly,
"…Did she look okay?"
Freya's voice softened.
"She's… strong."
That wasn't what he asked.
But it was enough.
He hung up.
Didn't say goodbye.
—
Later that day
Keifer was sitting in the empty conference room of his company building.
Laptop open.
Meetings scheduled.
Calls waiting.
He hadn't joined a single one.
His assistant knocked once.
"Sir, the Manila call—"
"Cancel it."
"…Sir?"
"Everything. Today."
The door closed again.
Silence.
He leaned back in his chair.
Closed his eyes.
For the first time in years—
he didn't try to distract himself.
He let the memory come.
That day.
Eleven years ago.
The laughter.
The whispers.
Her standing there.
Confused.
Then hurt.
Then broken.
He pressed his fingers against his eyes.
"…What did I do…"
At that time, it felt justified.
Aries.
Revenge.
Ego.
He wasn't the only one who knew about the plan.
He wasn't the only one who stayed silent.
But he was the one who went through with it.
The one who looked her in the eyes
and still chose to hurt her.
His chest tightened.
Not anger.
Not guilt.
Something heavier.
Regret that had nowhere to go.
His phone buzzed again.
This time—
unknown number.
From Seoul.
He stared at it.
Heart beating a little faster for no reason.
He almost didn't pick up.
But something made him slide his thumb across the screen.
"…Hello."
Silence.
For a second he thought it was a mistake.
Then—
"…Keifer."
His breath stopped.
He stood up so fast the chair moved back.
"…Jay?"
Her voice came calm.
Not cold.
Not soft.
Controlled.
"…Don't call me that."
He closed his eyes.
"…Jae-rin."
Silence again.
Then she said,
"We need to talk."
His grip on the phone tightened.
"…Now?"
"No."
Pause.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
His heart dropped.
"…Where."
"Seoul."
Of course.
He swallowed.
"…When."
"Before my flight."
Silence.
Then—
"I'll text you the place."
The call almost ended.
Then he said quickly,
"…Why."
There was a pause.
Longer this time.
Then her voice came quieter.
"…Because I don't want to hate you forever."
That hit harder than anything.
The call ended.
He stood there.
Still.
Phone in his hand.
Heart racing.
For the first time in eleven years—
he wasn't chasing her.
She was giving him one chance.
Not forgiveness.
Not even understanding.
Just—
a conversation.
And somehow,
that felt more terrifying than losing her the first time.
—
Back at Jae's apartment
The room was still messy from last night.
People asleep on couches.
On the floor.
Blankets everywhere.
Jae stood near the window, phone in her hand.
Min-jae was still on call.
"You called him."
She nodded.
"…Yeah."
Silence.
Then he asked,
"Why?"
She looked outside.
The city moving like nothing changed.
"…Because I don't want to keep breaking every time I see him."
He didn't answer immediately.
"…You sure about this?"
"No."
Honest.
Finally.
He smiled faintly.
"That's more like you."
She smiled a little too.
"…Stay on call later."
"I always do."
She looked at the screen.
At him.
Comfort.
Safe.
Then looked away.
Because somewhere deep inside—
something she thought was dead
had just moved again.
And she hated that she noticed.
The café was quiet.
Private.
No cameras.
No crowd.
Just one table near the window.
Jae was already there.
Black hoodie. Hair tied. No makeup.
No "celebrity."
Just her.
She didn't look up when he walked in.
But she felt it.
Keifer stopped in front of her.
For a second—
neither of them spoke.
Then he sat down.
Silence.
Heavy.
Long.
Finally—
"You said you wanted to talk," she said.
Straight.
No emotion.
He nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
Another pause.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Not the stage version.
Not the strong version.
Just her.
"…You look different."
She didn't react.
"Say what you came to say."
No patience.
No softness.
He exhaled slowly.
Then—
"I didn't just do it for revenge."
Her eyes lifted.
Sharp.
"Careful."
"I'm not justifying it."
"Then don't make it sound like that."
Silence.
He nodded.
"…I deserve that."
He looked down at the table.
Then back at her.
His voice quieter now.
"There were… people around me back then."
She frowned slightly.
"What does that have to do with me."
"…Everything."
She leaned back.
"Explain."
He swallowed.
"My life wasn't just school, Jae-rin."
That name made her stiff.
But she didn't stop him.
"There were… problems. Outside."
"Everyone has problems."
"Not like that."
Silence.
Then—
"My family… wasn't clean."
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Meaning?"
"Business. People. Deals."
Pause.
"…Danger."
The word stayed in the air.
She didn't interrupt this time.
He continued.
"I had enemies."
Her expression didn't change.
"So?"
"So they started noticing you."
That made her freeze.
"…What."
"They knew you were close to me."
Her heart dropped slightly.
"They watched."
"They asked questions."
Her voice lowered.
"…Who."
"I can't tell you."
"Then don't expect me to believe you."
"I'm not asking you to believe me."
Silence.
Then—
"I needed to push you away."
Her jaw tightened instantly.
"There it is."
He shook his head quickly.
"Not like that—"
"That's exactly like that."
"No—listen—"
She leaned forward.
Eyes burning.
"You humiliated me in front of everyone."
"I know."
"You made me feel like I meant nothing."
"I know."
"You broke me."
His voice dropped.
"I know."
Silence.
Then he said it.
"…But I thought breaking you would save you."
That made her laugh.
Cold.
Painful.
"That's the worst excuse I've ever heard."
"I'm not done."
She didn't stop him this time.
He leaned forward slightly.
Lower voice.
"My enemies weren't just random people."
Pause.
"They were connected to my family."
Another pause.
"They don't stop."
"They don't forgive."
"They don't forget."
Her fingers slowly clenched.
"So you decided to destroy me first?"
"I decided to make you hate me."
Silence.
Heavy.
"So you would leave."
Her voice dropped.
"I would have stayed."
"I know."
That hurt more.
"And that's exactly why I had to do it."
Her eyes watered—
but she blinked it back immediately.
"You don't get to say that."
"I know."
"You don't get to decide for me."
"I know."
"Then why did you."
He looked at her.
Completely exposed now.
"…Because I was scared."
That word didn't fit him.
Not the Keifer she knew.
"I couldn't protect you."
Silence.
"I couldn't protect everyone."
His voice got rough.
"So I made a choice."
Her voice cracked slightly—
just slightly—
"…To ruin me."
"To lose you before someone worse could take you from me."
The café felt smaller.
Too quiet.
Too heavy.
Then he added quietly—
"…And from myself."
That made her look at him again.
Properly this time.
"What does that mean."
He laughed once.
Dry.
"You think I was a good person back then?"
Silence.
"I wasn't."
He leaned back.
Ran a hand through his hair.
"I was angry."
"At Aries."
"At everything."
"At myself."
Her breath slowed.
Then he said the part he never told anyone—
"The plan to use you to get revenge on Aries was real."
She froze.
"I know."
"But it wasn't supposed to go that far."
"You still did it."
"Yes."
No denial.
No excuse.
Just truth.
"I was angry."
He looked at her again.
"And when I saw how much it was affecting him…"
Pause.
"I pushed further."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"I wanted him to feel it."
Silence.
"Even if it meant hurting you."
That was the first honest cruelty he admitted.
And it landed.
Hard.
But then—
his voice broke slightly.
"…And I hated myself for it the second it happened."
Silence.
"I told Rory and Edrix to find out more about you."
She frowned.
"…Why."
"Because I needed to know if you were okay."
"You should've asked me."
"I didn't deserve to."
Silence.
"That's when I found out about Aries."
Her breath stopped.
"…What about him."
"…That he was adopted."
The world felt like it paused.
"And that you…"
He didn't finish.
Didn't need to.
She understood.
Her fingers tightened.
"You knew."
He nodded slowly.
"I didn't tell anyone."
Silence.
"I couldn't."
The café felt suffocating now.
Too many truths.
Too late.
Too heavy.
She stood up suddenly.
"I need air."
He stood too.
But didn't touch her.
Didn't stop her.
She turned to him.
Eyes full.
Angry.
Confused.
Shaking.
"…You don't get to be the one who protected me."
He didn't argue.
"You don't get to be the one who hurt me and saved me at the same time."
Silence.
He nodded.
"…I know."
Tears slipped from her eyes now.
But she didn't wipe them.
"…I hate that part of me still wants to understand you."
That broke him more than anything.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Because that—
that was hope.
And he didn't know if he deserved it.
She stepped back.
"…This doesn't fix anything."
"I know."
"…This doesn't make it okay."
"I know."
She took another step back.
"But…"
She stopped.
Looked at him one last time.
"…It explains it."
And then she walked away.
Not running.
Not breaking.
But not staying either.
And Keifer stood there—
knowing
this was the closest he had been to her
in eleven years
and still
Not close enough
Jae didn't stop walking until she reached outside.
Cold air hit her face.
She inhaled sharply.
Her chest still felt tight.
Not from anxiety.
From him.
From everything he said.
From everything that made sense—
and everything that didn't.
Her phone buzzed.
Min-jae.
Of course.
She answered immediately.
"…Hello."
His voice was soft but alert.
"You're done?"
She leaned against the wall.
"…Yeah."
Silence.
He could hear it in her breathing.
"You cried."
She closed her eyes.
"…A little."
"How bad."
She let out a small laugh.
"You rating my breakdowns now?"
"I'm tracking progress."
That made her smile faintly.
"…He told me everything."
Silence.
"And?"
She looked at the ground.
"…It makes sense."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Min-jae didn't interrupt.
Didn't rush her.
She whispered,
"And I hate that it makes sense."
He exhaled slowly.
"That's normal."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is."
She shook her head.
"…He said he did it to protect me."
Min-jae didn't react immediately.
Then—
"Do you believe him?"
She paused.
Long.
Honest.
"…Yes."
That word felt dangerous.
Even to her.
"But that doesn't change anything," she added quickly.
"Okay."
"He still hurt me."
"Yeah."
"I still went through everything alone."
"Yeah."
Her voice dropped.
"…You were the one who stayed."
Silence.
Then his voice softened.
"I'm still here."
Her chest tightened—
but this time not painfully.
"…I know."
She slid down the wall and sat on the ground.
Phone pressed to her ear.
"…He looked different."
Min-jae didn't ask again.
He already knew what that meant.
"He wasn't arrogant."
No response.
"He wasn't joking."
Still nothing.
"…He was… broken."
That one stayed.
Min-jae closed his eyes for a second.
Then said quietly,
"That doesn't mean you owe him anything."
"I know."
"You don't have to fix him."
"I know."
"You don't have to go back."
Her voice came firmer now.
"I'm not going back."
Silence.
She meant it.
Right now—
she meant it.
—
Inside the café
Keifer hadn't moved.
Not from the spot she left him.
Her words were still in his head.
"I have a boyfriend."
He replayed it again.
And again.
And again.
Not angry.
Not shocked.
Just—
final.
Rory walked in after a while.
Saw him still standing there.
"…She left?"
Keifer nodded once.
Rory hesitated.
"…You okay?"
Keifer laughed quietly.
"…Yeah."
Not convincing.
He sat down slowly.
Ran a hand through his hair.
"She's happy."
Rory didn't answer.
Because he didn't know if that was true.
Keifer looked at the empty chair in front of him.
"…I don't get to ruin that."
That was new.
That was growth.
That was pain.
Rory nodded slowly.
"…So what now."
Keifer leaned back.
Exhaled.
"…Now?"
A small pause.
Then—
"I stay away."
Silence.
"But not because I don't want her."
That part hurt.
"…Because I finally understand what I did to her."
Rory didn't joke.
Didn't tease.
Just sat there.
Because for the first time—
Keifer wasn't trying to win.
He was trying to be better.
Even if it meant losing her.
—
Outside
Jae stood up slowly.
Still on the call.
"I'm going home."
"Good."
"You're still on the call?"
"I told you. I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled softly.
"…You're annoying."
"You like me."
She rolled her eyes.
"…Shut up."
He laughed.
And just like that—
the heaviness in her chest eased a little.
Not gone.
Not fixed.
But lighter.
Because no matter what past came back—
she wasn't alone in it anymore.
And this time,
she wasn't the girl who got left behind.
She was the one choosing
who gets to stay
That night—
Jae couldn't sleep.
Again.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, phone beside her.
Min-jae had fallen asleep on call hours ago.
The screen was dark now.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
And her mind—
too loud.
Keifer's voice.
"I made a choice."
"I couldn't protect you."
"So I pushed you away."
She turned to her side.
Closed her eyes.
Didn't help.
Because the problem wasn't the memories.
It was what came with them.
The feeling.
That stupid, stubborn feeling she thought she buried years ago.
"…I hate this."
She sat up suddenly.
Ran a hand through her hair.
Why now?
Why after everything?
Why after she survived him?
Why after she built a life without him?
Why now—
when she finally had someone who didn't break her?
Her chest tightened.
Not panic.
Not pain.
Something softer.
Something worse.
She grabbed her phone.
Unlocked it.
Scrolled.
Stopped.
Keifer.
She stared at his name.
Finger hovering.
"…No."
She locked the phone immediately.
Threw it on the bed.
Got up.
Started pacing.
"This is so stupid."
She laughed dryly.
"I have a boyfriend."
That should've been enough.
That was enough.
So why—
why did her heart still react to him like that?
She stopped walking.
Stared at the mirror.
At herself.
"…Do I still love him?"
Silence.
She didn't answer.
Because she already knew.
And she didn't want to say it out loud.
—
Across the city
Keifer stood on his balcony.
Phone in his hand.
Screen lit.
Her contact open.
He hadn't moved for ten minutes.
Just staring.
Thinking.
Fighting himself.
He could call.
He could text.
He could say something.
Anything.
But he didn't.
Because for the first time—
he was thinking about her
before himself.
"…She's not yours anymore."
He said it out loud.
It didn't feel real.
But it was.
He leaned against the railing.
Closed his eyes.
And finally—
finally said the truth he avoided for eleven years.
"…I still love you."
No one heard it.
No one needed to.
Because he wasn't saying it to her.
He was accepting it for himself.
And accepting something else too—
loving her
didn't mean
he got to have her.
—
Back in her room
Jae sat back on the bed.
Phone in her hand again.
This time—
she opened her notes app.
Started typing.
Then deleting.
Typing again.
Deleting again.
Finally—
she whispered it.
So quietly
it barely existed.
"…I still love him."
Tears slipped down her face.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just silent.
Because this wasn't heartbreak.
This was worse.
This was love
that never left
even when it should have.
Her phone buzzed suddenly.
She flinched.
Looked down.
Min-jae.
A message.
"Did you sleep?"
Her chest softened instantly.
Safe.
Warm.
Real.
She typed back:
"Not yet."
Three dots appeared.
Then—
"Try. I'm here."
She smiled faintly.
Wiped her tears.
Laid down again.
Phone in her hand.
"…I'm trying."
And for the first time that night—
her thoughts weren't just about Keifer.
Because love didn't disappear.
But it wasn't the only thing in her life anymore.
—
Somewhere else
Keifer finally locked his phone.
Put it down.
Walked back inside.
And for the first time—
he didn't chase her.
Didn't call.
Didn't interrupt her life.
Because if he really loved her—
he had to learn
how to let her choose
even if that choice
wasn't him.