Chapter 8: The Other Woman
The discovery hit Y/N like a freight train on an ordinary overcast afternoon in a quieter district of Seoul, far from the glittering HYBE area. She had decided to take a long walk after another draining shift at the bookstore, hoping the fresh air would clear the lingering fog of doubt from the recent reunion with Jay. The streets were damp from earlier rain, puddles reflecting gray skies, and her footsteps felt heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. Her phone was in her pocket, silent for once, but her mind replayed his promises from that desperate night—I'll do better. You're my everything.She turned a corner onto a narrow street lined with hidden cafés and small boutiques favored by industry insiders. That's when she saw them through the large glass window of a discreet, upscale café tucked between buildings. Jay sat at a corner table, his mask pulled down, laughing in that charismatic way that once made her feel special. Across from him was a beautiful girl from the industry—a rising actress or idol trainee, someone Y/N vaguely recognized from social media and music shows. The girl leaned in close, her hand resting on the table near his, and Jay's fingers brushed against hers in a gesture that was far too familiar, too intimate—the same gentle, lingering touch he used on Y/N during their stolen moments.
Time slowed. Y/N stood frozen in the alley across the street, half-hidden by a utility pole, rain beginning to fall again and mixing with the hot tears that spilled silently down her cheeks. Her stomach twisted violently. The way he smiled at the other girl, the easy comfort in his posture—it mirrored every tender moment he had shared with her. Was this the "industry friend" he had mentioned before? Or something more? Her mind raced through every vague excuse, every canceled plan, every late-night "schedule." The crack from the tabloid incident widened into a chasm.
She wanted to look away but couldn't. She watched as the girl laughed at something he said, tilting her head, and Jay's expression softened in a way that felt reserved only for private moments. Betrayal burned like acid in her veins. Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone, debating whether to take a photo for proof or confront him immediately. In the end, she simply turned and walked away, legs numb, the rain soaking through her coat as sobs threatened to escape.
That night, the confrontation was brutal and raw. Jay had come over after she texted him to meet, sensing something was wrong from her curt messages. The apartment felt smaller, the air thicker with tension as she stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Y/N: I saw you with her. At that café today. Don't you dare lie to my face again, Jay. I watched your hand on hers. The way you looked at her. Was that another "PR thing" or "industry collab"?
Jay's face paled for a split second before his expression shifted to defensive coldness. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "It's not what you think, Y/N. She's just an industry friend. We were discussing a possible collab for a project—management wants me to network more. You're overreacting because you're insecure about my life. This is exactly why I can't tell you everything."
Y/N: Insecure? I saw it with my own eyes! The same touches, the same smiles you give me when we're alone. How many times have you lied about where you were? How many "friends" like her are there?
The argument exploded. Voices rose, accusations flying like shattered glass. She screamed about the tabloids, the canceled dates, the constant feeling of being second place. Jay deflected, his tone growing sharper, turning the blame back on her: "You knew what you were getting into with an idol. If you can't handle it, maybe we shouldn't do this." Tears streamed down her face as she poured out months of accumulated pain, but he shut down, eyes distant and tired.
Hours passed in cycles of yelling, heavy silence, and half-hearted apologies that felt empty. In the end, he grabbed his jacket. "I need space to think. This is too much drama on top of everything." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N curled on the cold floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain carved deeper grooves into her already fractured heart, each sob echoing the song's haunting chorus in her mind: You always lie when it's convenient...
She replayed the scene at the café endlessly, the image of his hand on the other girl's burning behind her eyelids. Self-doubt consumed her—Am I not enough? Is this what loving him costs me? The apartment felt colder, lonelier than ever. She grabbed her phone, typing out messages she ultimately deleted, then cried herself into a fitful sleep, the cycle tightening its noose even further around her breaking spirit.
Join Qfeast to read the entire story!
Sign In. It is absolutely free!
