Namra stood before the mirror, the black dress in her hands, its simple elegance drawing her in. It was sleek, with a deep V-neckline and a flattering silhouette that hugged her figure just right. The fabric was smooth, almost velvety to the touch, and it seemed to absorb the dim light of her room, giving her an air of understated sophistication.

She stepped into the dress, pulling it up slowly, feeling the cool material against her skin. The dress fit her perfectly, the hem just brushing her knees. She adjusted it slightly, making sure it fell evenly.

Her hair, still in soft waves, framed her face as she looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t used to wearing something so revealing, but it wasn’t too much. It wasn’t about drawing attention; it was simply the kind of attire expected at her father’s gatherings.

Namra touched her earrings, simple silver hoops that glinted faintly against her skin, and then adjusted the strap of her dress. She barely recognized herself—dressed up, formal, yet still her usual quiet, reserved self.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Tonight wouldn’t be like the usual parties her father threw. Tonight, things might be different. She was determined to handle it, just like she always did.

With one final glance at her reflection, Namra walked out of her room, ready for whatever awaited her.

Sooheon adjusted the cuffs of his black dress shirt, rolling his shoulders slightly as he stood in front of the mirror. The suit fit well—too well. It wasn’t his style, but there was no avoiding it tonight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, making sure it wasn’t too neat. Even in a formal setting, he wanted to feel like himself.

The room was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock. He checked the time—almost time to leave. With a final glance at his reflection, he grabbed his blazer and slid it on. The fabric felt heavier than it should.

Stepping out of his room, he made his way downstairs. A sleek black car was already waiting outside, the driver standing by the door. Without a word, Sooheon got in, leaning back against the seat as the city lights blurred past the windows.

He didn’t particularly care about this party. But he was going.

That was enough.

The evening was in full swing when Jaebom arrived at the venue with his father, stepping out of the sleek black car in front of the grand mansion. The lights of the estate illuminated the night, casting long shadows on the stone pathway as guests arrived. Jaebom adjusted his tie, the dark suit feeling too formal for his liking. He wasn’t here because he wanted to be—he was here because his father insisted.

His father, a tall man with a stern face, walked beside him, his presence commanding attention as they made their way up the steps. Jaebom couldn’t help but feel the weight of the expectations on him. He was used to these kinds of events, but they never got any easier. The constant pressure to fit into a world that wasn’t his own, the unspoken demand to uphold his family’s reputation—it was suffocating.

“Try to be on your best behavior, Jaebom,” his father said, his voice low and firm. “This is an important event. Make sure you make a good impression.”

Jaebom nodded, a tight smile forming on his lips. “I know, Dad.”

They entered the mansion, the sound of soft music and muted conversations filling the air. Jaebom’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the sea of unfamiliar faces, all of them dressed to impress. He had never liked these gatherings, but he was here, and now there was no turning back.

His gaze shifted to a familiar figure standing near the entrance. Namra.

For a moment, their eyes met across the room, and Jaebom felt a strange sense of connection. He hadn’t expected to see her here, but there she was, looking every bit as composed and cold as he remembered.

Before he could make his way over, his father nudged him. "Remember, Jaebom, be polite. Don’t waste your time on distractions."

The party was alive with movement and conversation, the air thick with the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter. The grand mansion was filled with elegant guests, each in their finest attire, talking in hushed tones or engaging in lively discussions.

Namra stood near a quiet corner of the room, her black dress almost blending into the shadows. She wasn’t one to seek the attention of the crowd, and tonight was no different. She wasn’t here by choice—she was here because her father expected it. The room was full of faces she didn’t recognize, some of them nodding and greeting her in passing, but she kept to herself, watching from a distance.

Her eyes scanned the room, briefly catching Sooheon in a conversation with a few businessmen. He was leaning in, laughing easily, his natural charm on full display. Namra couldn’t help but wonder how he made everything seem so effortless. She, on the other hand, felt disconnected, like she was in a different world.

As the night went on, the energy of the party didn’t seem to affect her. She remained in her quiet corner, her posture still and composed, occasionally glancing over at the interactions around her. Every now and then, her gaze would flicker to Sooheon, who was now standing by the drink table, scanning the room.

She didn’t know why she kept looking his way. Maybe it was because he seemed so comfortable in this world, so different from her own reserved, distant demeanor. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a while, Namra felt like someone might actually understand her.

But she didn’t move toward him. She stayed where she was, hidden in the shadows, observing silently.

---

Chanmi was hurrying up the grand staircase, trying to find a quieter spot away from the party’s commotion when she suddenly bumped into someone. She stumbled back slightly, surprised by the unexpected collision.

"Sorry!" she quickly apologized, looking up to find the person she had run into.

To her surprise, it was Namra.

She froze for a moment, her confusion clear on her face. Namra was here? At this party? Chanmi hadn’t expected to see her here—she wasn’t the type to enjoy something like this. Namra, standing in front of her, looked as calm and composed as ever, but something about the coldness in her eyes made Chanmi hesitate.

Namra blinked, her expression unchanged. "Carry on," she said, her voice cool and distant.

Chanmi was still in shock, trying to process the fact that Namra was at the party, of all places. She hadn’t known Namra was even invited, let alone would be here. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how all the pieces fit together. Was she here with someone else? Was her dad involved too?

But before she could ask, Namra had already turned slightly, her eyes flicking to her phone, as if the brief interaction wasn’t significant to her at all.

Chanmi blinked and found herself at a loss for words, her confusion mounting. “Wait, your dad?” Chanmi finally blurted out, still unsure of what was going on.

Namra’s gaze shifted back to her for a moment, a slight but cold acknowledgment in her eyes. “Yes. He’s expecting me.”

Chanmi nodded, still feeling out of place. It was clear now that Namra’s father was somehow connected to the event, but the whole situation was making her head spin. Namra wasn’t someone to go to parties like this.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Namra simply gave her a curt nod and began to step past her, continuing down the stairs.

Chanmi watched her leave, still processing the brief encounter. Namra, with her unbothered and distant aura, seemed perfectly in place here—so different from how Chanmi imagined her to be.

Feeling slightly flustered, Chanmi turned and continued up the stairs, still trying to make sense of it all.