Reflections

You used to think Chaewon was stronger than anyone you’ve met.

At nineteen, she carried herself like a storm in a small package, sharp black bob haircut swaying with every confident step, feline eyes sparkling with mischief and ambition. She was the girl who dragged you to midnight convenience store runs after grueling dance practices, laughing until her cheeks hurt, belting out idol songs at the top of her lungs even when her voice cracked. Two years of friendship, and you had fallen harder than you ever admitted. You were her safe place. The one she called when the weight of trainee life became too much. The one who held her hair back after her first painful rejection and told her she was going to shine anyway.

Now, that girl was gone.

It started slowly, like cracks spreading across thin ice. The company dropped her four months ago with a cold email: “We regret to inform you that your contract will not be renewed. Your image does not align with our current group concept.” Too short. Too ordinary face. Vocal tone not distinctive enough. Not enough “it factor.” Chaewon read it in your apartment, sitting cross-legged on your couch, and forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Their loss, right?”

You believed her then.

But the smiles stopped coming.

She replaced auditions with soju bottles. Nights out became every night. The black bob that used to be perfectly styled now hung limp and messy around her pale face, uneven because she kept cutting it herself when the anxiety got too loud. Her apartment turned into a battlefield of empty bottles, crumpled soju packs, and clothes that smelled like other men’s cologne.

You tried to be there. You really did.

The first time you confronted her lightly, she had come home with a hickey the size of a coin on her collarbone. “It’s nothing,” she’d snapped, pulling her hoodie higher. “Don’t act like my dad.”

The second time was worse. You picked her up from a club at 4 a.m. after she texted you a garbled “come get me.” She was drunk, mascara streaked, skirt riding up, and there were fingerprints bruised into her thighs. She cried in your car, then laughed hysterically when you tried to talk to her. “At least someone still wants to touch me.”

Tonight, the fracture finally split wide open.

It was 2:47 a.m. when your phone lit up with messages from a mutual friend. The photos made your stomach turn: Chaewon at a dingy bar near Hongdae, laughing too loudly, slumped against a stranger’s chest. His hand was under her skirt. Her eyes were vacant. Another photo showed her stumbling out with him, his arm around her waist like he already owned her for the night.

You didn’t think. You just drove.

Her apartment door was unlocked, again. The stench hit you first: sour alcohol, stale smoke, cheap perfume, and sex. The living room was a disaster. Bottles everywhere. A broken glass by the couch. Her phone lay on the floor with a cracked screen, still playing some sad ballad on loop.

And there she was.

Kim Chaewon sat on the couch in nothing but your old oversized black t-shirt, the one she stole months ago and never gave back. It barely covered the tops of her smooth thighs. Fresh hickeys dotted her neck and collarbone like ugly stamps. Her short black bob was a tangled mess, strands sticking to her tear-streaked, flushed cheeks. She looked tiny. Fragile. Hollow.

She lifted her head slowly when you closed the door. Her eyes, once so sharp and full of fire, were red-rimmed and glassy from drinking.

“…Y/N?” Her voice was raspy, wrecked. “Here to play hero again?”

You stood there, fists clenched at your sides, heart twisting violently. “What the fuck, Chaewon? Look at yourself.”

She laughed. It was an ugly, bitter sound that ended in a sob she tried to swallow. “Why? So you can tell me how disgusting I am?” She grabbed the half-empty soju bottle beside her and took a long swig, some of it spilling down her chin and onto your t-shirt. “I already know.”

You stepped closer, kicking aside an empty bottle. “This has to stop. You’re destroying yourself. Every night it’s the same shit, different guy, same empty look in your eyes the next day. I can’t keep watching you do this.”

Chaewon’s expression twisted. She stood up too fast and swayed, catching herself on the arm of the couch. The hem of the t-shirt rode up, revealing the curve of her bare ass and more marks on her skin. She didn’t even bother pulling it down.

“You think I don’t know that?” Her voice rose, cracking like glass under pressure. “You think I enjoy waking up in some random guy’s bed smelling like cum and regret? Feeling so fucking used that I want to scrub my skin off?”

Tears welled up again, but she angrily wiped them away.

“I’m nineteen, Y/N. Nineteen! I was supposed to debut this year. I gave up school, friends, everything for that dream. And what do I have now? Nothing. My parents look at me like I’m a failure who wasted their money. My mom told me last week I should just get married early because ‘no one will want a washed-up trainee.’ My dad doesn’t even call anymore.”

She took another step toward you, voice shaking with months of suppressed pain.

“Every time I look in the mirror I see why they dropped me. Too plain. Too short. My voice cracks when I’m nervous. My dancing isn’t sharp enough. I’m not special. I’m just… ordinary. And it fucking hurts.” Her small hands clenched into fists. “So yeah, I drink until I can’t feel it. I let strangers fuck me because for ten minutes I’m not worthless. I’m wanted. Desired. Even if they don’t remember my name after they cum.”

You felt your chest cave in. The girl you loved, yes, loved, was breaking right in front of you, and every word carved deeper.

“Chaewon…” you tried, voice rough.

“No!” she shouted, shoving your chest hard. “Don’t give me that pity look! I see it every time you look at me now. The disappointment. The same fucking look everyone gives me. Even you.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “You used to look at me like I was going to be a star. Now you just look at me like I’m pathetic. Like I’m already ruined.”

She shoved you again, harder, her whole body trembling.

“I hate myself!” The words tore out of her like a scream. “I hate how empty I feel. I hate waking up alone after they leave. I hate that the only time I feel anything is when someone’s inside me, even if it’s rough and meaningless. At least then I’m not thinking about how I failed at the one thing I was good at.”

Her voice dropped to a broken whisper, but the pain in it was deafening.

“And the worst part? I see how you look at me when I talk about the guys. Your jaw clenches. Your eyes get dark. You want me too, don’t you? But you’re too good to touch someone as dirty as me now.” She laughed bitterly through her tears. “So go on. Tell me how disgusting I am. Tell me I’m a slut. Tell me you’re done with me. Just… make me feel something real for once.”

The air between you was suffocating, thick with rage, heartbreak, years of unspoken longing, and a dark, dangerous hunger that had finally clawed its way to the surface.

You grabbed her wrist when she tried to shove you again, pulling her closer. Her tear-stained face was inches from yours, lips parted, breathing ragged. The tension snapped taut like a wire about to cut skin.

This wasn’t going to end with words.

The silence after her broken confession lasted less than three heartbeats.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her back against the wall. Chaewon gasped sharply, but her eyes blazed with fury and desperate hunger. Before she could spit another insult, your mouth crashed into hers in a violent kiss. Teeth clashed. Tongues fought. She bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and you retaliated by shoving your hand between her thighs, finding her completely bare and already soaking wet.

“Fucking slut,” you growled against her mouth, plunging two thick fingers deep into her tight cunt without warning. Chaewon cried out, her walls clenching greedily around the sudden intrusion. “This pussy is dripping just from fighting with me?”

“Shut up–” she hissed, but her hips rolled shamelessly against your hand, chasing the rough friction. You curled your fingers viciously, stroking that spongy spot inside her while your thumb ground hard circles on her swollen clit. Her short black bob bounced as her head thrashed against the wall, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks.

You ripped your fingers out, spun her around, and shoved her face-first against the wall. The oversized t-shirt was yanked up to her waist in one brutal motion. You freed your aching cock, thick and rock-hard, from your pants and slapped it against her soaked folds.

“You want to feel something real?” You pressed the fat head against her entrance, teasing her dripping hole. “Then take it.”

You slammed into her in one savage thrust, burying every inch inside her scorching, velvety heat. Chaewon screamed, her pussy spasming wildly around your girth. She was impossibly tight, fluttering and gushing around you as you stretched her open.

“Fuck–-too big–!!” she sobbed, nails scraping down the wallpaper.

You didn’t give her time to adjust. You pulled back and started pounding her with merciless force, hips snapping forward so hard her small body jolted with every thrust. The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin filled the messy apartment. You gripped her narrow waist with bruising strength, yanking her back onto your cock like a toy.

“This is what you wanted, right?” you snarled, leaning over her to bite the side of her neck hard enough to leave another mark on top of the ones from last night. “Getting fucked like a worthless whore. No more random cocks, Chaewon. This sloppy little cunt is mine now.”

“Yes–fuck—I–hate you—” she moaned brokenly, pushing her ass back to meet your brutal thrusts. Her walls clenched rhythmically, milking your shaft as you railed her against the wall. You reached around and rubbed her clit roughly, forcing her closer to the edge.

She came violently within minutes, her whole body seizing, pussy squirting around your pistoning cock, juices running down her trembling thighs. She screamed your name mixed with curses, but you didn’t slow down. You fucked her straight through her orgasm, chasing your own anger.

You pulled out suddenly, spun her around, and lifted her. Chaewon’s legs wrapped around your waist instinctively as you carried her to the couch and bent her over the armrest. Her perfect ass was presented to you, red from the impact of your hips. You spanked her hard, once, twice, three times, leaving bright handprints on her pale skin before slamming back inside her from behind.