Page 31 of From Paris to Seoul (K-Drama Love Story #2)

??

Seo-yeon

What was I supposed to say to her?

That my career was in ruins and I’d probably already been fired? That I had no idea what to do with my life?

That my relationship was over? That the man I had spent six years with—the one I thought I’d spend forever with—had been cheating on me?

That my parents, especially my mom, would lose their minds when they found out I was jobless, single, and had run away to Paris?

And worst of all… that I had left behind the best, the craziest, the most thoughtful, intelligent, and undeniably hottest man I’d ever met—along with a piece of my heart in Paris—because I thought it was the right thing to do?

Instead of saying all that, I just nodded and asked for more wine.

This was the choice I made, wasn’t it? I was the one who said Paris was all we could have. No messy what-ifs, no impossible dreams of a future together. Just a beautiful, fleeting moment frozen in time.

Because deep down, I knew we could never be together. How on earth would I convince my parents to accept him—a son of a single mother, an obscure actor and model, the main breadwinner of his family? Someone who doesn’t even have a university degree?

It sounds shallow. It sounds awful. But I know exactly how my family works. The first question my mother would ask if I introduced a new man: How much does he have in the bank? Followed by: What do his parents do? And finally, Which university did he graduate from?

And none of the answers—none of his answers—would ever satisfy them.

But Baekhyun is so much more than that. There’s something about the way he moves through life—unforced, instinctive—and he carries this thirst for life, this relentless curiosity, that I’ve never seen in anyone before.

And to be honest? None of that even matters to me. What matters is that he understands. He listens. He comforts me. He challenges me. Those six days in Paris with him made me feel more alive than six years with Min-seok ever did.

He wasn’t just a distraction or some rebound to help me forget Min-seok. He was the first person in a long time who truly saw me. Who made me feel like I wasn’t just an accessory to someone else’s life, but the main character of my own story.

And oh my god… the sex.

With Min-seok, everything was about him . Pleasing him. Making sure he was satisfied. My own pleasure was an afterthought—like a footnote in a book, something barely worth mentioning.

But with Baekhyun… he made me feel . Things I never thought I could. Things I never even knew I wanted to feel.

Will I ever meet someone like him again?

Probably not in this lifetime.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. What was the point of dwelling on it now? I was heading back to Seoul, back to the real world. The world where I had to answer to my parents, my agency, the media.

The world where I was Seo-yeon, the obedient daughter—not the girl who had spent six reckless, unforgettable days falling for a man she could never keep.

I flipped through the book he had given me, Le Petit Prince . Even his handwriting was charming.

Had I really been reduced to this? Clinging to the handwriting of a man I told myself I could never have?

I sighed again and took another sip of wine, finishing my second glass. My eyes flicked to the screen in front of me—ten more hours until we landed in Seoul.

Ten more hours until reality.

***

The first day back in Seoul wasn’t so bad. Jet lag hit me hard, and after sleeping for nearly ten hours straight, everyone just left me alone.

The second day, though, reality caught up with me. First thing in the morning, I met Ji-a at a café.

“Sorry, Seo-yeon, but they’re letting you go…” she sighed, looking both apologetic and exhausted.

“I tried to explain that you left because it was urgent, but they said disappearing without notice in the middle of an ongoing project was unacceptable. I think you’ll be getting a formal dismissal letter soon. And… there’s also a fine to pay.”

Well… it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

I reached across the table, taking Ji-a’s hand. “It’s fine. I kind of expected this anyway. And thank you, Ji-a. For everything. And… I’m sorry, too. For leaving so suddenly and dumping the mess on you.”

I gave her a sheepish look. “Oh god, I really hope you get to keep your job. And… we’re still friends, right?”

Ji-a nodded, but to my surprise, a faint blush colored her cheeks. Very unlike her.

“Yeah, I was actually reassigned as an assistant for a rising star—Sungmin,” she squealed, practically bouncing in her seat. “Aah, otokke , he’s so handsome! And it’s my first time being an assistant for a male celebrity—I can’t even look him in the eyes.”

I blinked, then burst into laughter. “So things actually worked out even better for you.”

Ji-a looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, Seo-yeon, I didn’t mean to— I mean, of course, you’re still my best actress and my best friend in the whole world.”

I hummed, pretending to consider her apology—though, honestly, she had nothing to apologize for.

“So… what’s next? And how was Paris, by the way?” Ji-a seemed desperate to change the topic.

Right—Paris. And Baekhyun. My mind went to him immediately.

He hadn’t contacted me yet, which made sense since he was probably still on a plane. And even if he had landed in Seoul already, we had agreed not to reach out to each other.

“Good,” I said, the only word I could come up with.

Ji-a frowned. “Good? That’s it? You ran away to Paris, had this whole dramatic escape, and all you have to say is… good?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, well, it was beautiful. The museums, the architecture, all that…” I waved my hand vaguely.

“And as for what’s next… honestly? No idea.

I don’t have the energy or motivation to start contacting new agencies.

I think I’ll just enjoy my time as an unemployed person for now.

At least until my mom kills me so I won’t have to worry about my future anymore. ” I added dryly.

Ji-a huffed. “Well… your family is rich anyway. Can’t you just take over the family business or work there instead?”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want,” I said, exhaling sharply. “I went to drama school, thinking I could forge my own path… but who knew that path would be full of shit?” I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

She toyed with her straw before sighing. “This industry is brutal. Haven’t you heard? Another actress took her own life a few days ago.”

“Yeah, I saw it on the news,” I replied. “Poor thing… she was so young.”

Ji-a nodded. “You never really know what someone’s going through. She seemed to have everything. But one blackmail scandal, and just like that—she was gone.”

We both got lost in our thoughts for a few minutes before Ji-a finally checked the time and sighed. She had to get to work.

We hugged, promising to meet again soon. Then she headed to her car, and I went to mine. We drove off in opposite directions.

For a brief moment, I considered just driving. Driving and driving until I reached Busan, to my grandparents’ house.

But I couldn’t keep running away forever, could I?

By the time I reached home, a tight, heavy knot had already formed in my stomach. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

What if my mom had already opened my dismissal letter? What if they knew about Baekhyun? And what the hell was I supposed to say about Min-seok?

The only advantage of living in a house this big was that I wouldn’t have to see anyone right away. My room was on the west wing, while my parents’ bedroom was on the second floor of the east side.

I parked the car and slipped inside as quietly as possible—moving almost like a thief in my own home.

Luckily, I didn’t run into anyone from my family, except for the butler. I asked him about my mom’s schedule, and he mentioned she had a board meeting this morning.

Seizing the opportunity, I slipped into the west wing of the house and entered the piano studio next to my room.

It was the one place where I felt most at peace.

The studio was soundproof, allowing me to play for hours without interruption—just me and the keys, shutting out the world and my problems.

After playing for a while, my throat felt dry, so I stepped out to grab some water. As I passed my sister’s room, I noticed her door was slightly open.

That was odd. She was usually at the office by now.

“Yae-rin?” I called out, pushing her door open.

I froze. Blinked. Then blinked again.

Her laptop sat open on the desk, playing an explicit video—two women tangled up in, well… very unholy activities.

And my sister is still in her pajamas, one hand down there , clearly about to have some… private time.

“Oh no. Oh no,” I panicked, stumbling backward, squeezing my eyes shut in a desperate attempt to erase the image from my brain.

I heard a flurry of movement—the sharp snap of her laptop closing, the rustling of sheets—then suddenly, she grabbed my wrist and yanked me back into the room.

Eyes still tightly shut, I had no idea what to expect. But suddenly, it all made sense.

So that’s why she was never interested in dating… or at least, not in dating men.

Not my business anyway, I reminded myself. As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters.

I heard her exasperated sigh. “I thought you’d still be passed out in your room,” she muttered, sitting back on her bed and yanking me down to sit beside her.

Cautiously, I cracked one eye open—half-expecting to see something I really didn’t want to. “Err… nope. I’m here,” I said dryly, unsure of what else to add.

Yae-rin ran a hand through her short hair. “Well, I felt a bit sick today, so I’m skipping the office,” she announced casually, as if I hadn’t just walked in on that .

Then, as if deciding to steer the conversation far, far away from what just happened, she added, “Anyway… how was Paris? Just so you know, Mom is absolutely livid. And Min-seok called a few times. Mom was even angrier when she found out you left without telling him.”