TPWA 13⚽

Chapter 13

The lecture was unbearably dull. From her seat in the back corner, Seoyeon was half-listening, half-drifting between chats with friends in group text threads before finally opening the university community app.

This was the true achievement of anyone who managed to snag a corner seat: complete freedom.

Let’s see what’s on today.

Her first stop was always the dining hall menu board. She had long since admitted to herself that she was too lazy to pack lunch every day, and eating out constantly drained her wallet.

Satisfied with today’s menu, Seoyeon switched over to the anonymous message board. She hadn’t checked in for a few days, and the posts in the “Best” section had been completely reshuffled.

That’s when a headline caught her eye.

“…No way.”

[Did everyone already figure out who the 1st-year ㅎㅇㅇ is?]

The initials were too familiar, and a bad premonition crept up her spine. Seoyeon tapped on the post with nervous fingers.

[That girl—apparently the entire department already knows. She’s ㅇㅅㅎ’s ex-wife from that show ㄱㅅ. Am I the only one just finding out? Crazy that a ㅈㄴㅍ’s ex would end up at this uni.]

Even though the writer had disguised everything in consonant abbreviations, Seoyeon could read it fluently.

• “ㄱㅅ” was “Gotta Get Married”, the dating show Yuna’s ex-husband had once appeared on.

• “ㅇㅅㅎ ㅈㅊ” meant “Lee Seonghee’s ex-wife.”

• “ㅈㄴㅍ” was shorthand for “that bastard ex.”

The post already had dozens of comments. Scowling, Seoyeon scrolled through them.

[Everyone else avoids her, but I heard she still acts like she’s in a flower field.]

[She failed at marrying rich, so now she better study hard and get a real jobㅠ. From what I read, she’s smart though—probably how she got into our uni.]

[If you dig around you can find pics. She’s insanely pretty, but guys, be careful not to step on a landmine. Not that any of you would get the chance anyway.]

The longer she read, the hotter her blood boiled. Seoyeon finally just shut off the app.

Goddamn it. What if Yuna saw that?

The post itself was bad enough, but the comments were worse. Idiots who didn’t know the first thing about her, spewing garbage with empty heads. Better that Yuna never even knew. If she wasted her long-awaited campus life worrying about trash like that, she’d be the only one to lose.

Opening her messenger, Seoyeon hovered over Yuna’s chat window. She doubted her unnie even knew such an app existed, but if by chance she did, Seoyeon would delete her account herself.

Then she froze.
No, wait.

If she asked anything, she might end up alerting Yuna to the app’s existence. It’d be safer to just grab her phone one day and check secretly. With a sigh, Seoyeon closed messenger too.

Yuna was at home, carefully transferring homemade apple syrup into glass jars. Her laptop sat open on the side, displaying an article about dermatologist Lee Seonghee’s divorce.

“There’s nothing here…”

For days now she had scoured news comments, blogs, anything that mentioned their names. But there wasn’t a single mention of her starting school again. They’d never even revealed her full name on the show.

The divorce had been over a year ago. Judging from how quickly the articles had faded, the public’s interest had long since shifted elsewhere.

“Maybe it’s just… spread by word of mouth.”

It was one thing for her business school classmates to know, but even in general education classes, strangers gave her odd, lingering looks. She hated to admit it, but it rattled her. The whole world already knew how to label her: Lee Seonghee’s ex-wife, Han Yuna.

Still, she had braced herself for this. Making a bunch of new friends had already gone up in smoke, but at the very least, she needed that diploma. And besides—maybe Seoyeon, just one person, could be worth more than ten so-called friends.

“I’ll just treat Seoyeon ten times better,” she whispered, as if to soothe herself.

Her chest still stung, but she forced herself to close the laptop. She was moving the five jars to a cool spot by the window when the doorbell rang.

“At this hour?”

It was nearly 11:30 p.m. Too late for visitors. Yuna trotted to the intercom. At first the delivery man’s image appeared, then glitched into Seoyeon’s face. This happened often enough that Yuna had asked management about it, only to learn it was a manufacturer defect.

Relieved, she quickly opened the door. Seoyeon stepped in and immediately studied Yuna’s face.

“What is it? Do I have apple syrup on me?”

“…No. You were making some, huh? Smells amazing.”

“Mm. Instead of handing out rice cakes for moving in, I thought I’d give these. Apple Earl Grey is my café’s signature.”

“You even do this after a whole day at the shop? Such a diligent young lady.”

Yuna giggled and followed her inside. Seoyeon explained she’d come to pick up the clothes Yuna had promised. Yuna ducked into her bedroom and returned with a shopping bag.

“I was going to bring it to you.”

“You’re really giving me this brand stuff for free?”

“I was going to sell them, but the prices offered were too low. It’d make me happier if you wore them.”

Seoyeon grinned. “Thanks. But hey, unnie—stop wearing the same old outfits every day. Didn’t you sell your bag and watch? Buy yourself some new clothes with that.”

She was laying the groundwork for her real goal. And to be fair, it was true. Yuna only rotated through a few blouses and two pairs of jeans.

“…Is it that obvious?”

“Of course. When I helped you unpack, it was all daughter-in-law outfits. No wonder you never have anything casual to put on. But do you even have time to shop?”

“…Maybe online? I don’t even know which stores to go to.”

“Perfect! Online’s the way to go. I’ll recommend some apps. Give me your phone.”

Seoyeon snatched it up—carefully, reminding herself not to look suspicious. Pretending to browse the app store, she quickly scanned through all of Yuna’s apps.

Her heart unclenched. The school community app wasn’t there. Relief washed over her so strong her knees felt weak.

To cover her tracks, she downloaded a few fashion platforms before tossing the phone onto Yuna’s bed and collapsing onto it herself.

“Pretty lady… mind if I crash here tonight? I’ve got no energy left.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Not an ounce of strength…”

Yuna lit up with delight. She’d bought extra bedding ages ago, thinking maybe someday a friend would sleep over. She never dreamed it would be so soon. Humming happily, she spread out the blankets—then paused.

“Oh! Want to come over for a housewarming this weekend?”

“Of course. Who else is coming?”

“Actually… just you. I’ll cook something special.”

“What about Yeongwon?”

“…Would he even come…?”

Oh, he’ll come, Seoyeon thought. She didn’t bother saying it aloud. No need to waste energy on the obvious.

“Would a humble soul like me truly be welcome, boss?”

Kitæ was beaming as he sat across from Yuna, freshly invited to her housewarming. Yuna smiled and nodded.

“Of course. You helped me move—I should return the favor. Is there something you’d like me to cook? I can prepare in advance.”

“…Wait. You mean you’ll actually cook for me?”

“Yes. I love cooking. My utensils are limited, but tell me what you want and I’ll try.”

“…How could I eat such a thing? I’ll preserve it! Forever!!”

“Hahaha. You always know how to make people laugh, Kitæ.”

Since the move, Yuna and Kitæ had grown closer, partly because of his easygoing nature. He rattled off dishes nonstop, while Yuna earnestly jotted them down in her planner.

“…”

Yeongwon felt like he’d wandered into another world. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Kitæ about their “cafeteria Michelin” mission, or about visiting the campus café with Yuna.

Now Yuna’s planner was filling up with Kitæ’s reviews, his favorite foods, his every whim. And the way she laughed and chatted with him—so different from her short, stilted exchanges with Yeongwon.

Jealousy burned in his chest.

Just then, Yuna mentioned, “Ah, but you already know—the dining table’s tiny. You’ll have to eat on the floor. I’ll get new trays, but I hope that’s okay.”

Kitæ slammed a hand on his chest.

“Boss! It’s not about me—it’s about you! Wouldn’t sitting on the floor strain your delicate body?”

“I’ll be fine—”

“Wait! Yeongwon has a place. He uses a six-seater dining table all by himself.”

The sudden arrow struck Yeongwon, who’d been sulking in silence.