Changed

3:crumbling mask

Lea didn't understand why she kept going back. Maybe it was because Jungwon was the only person in her life who seemed determined to stick around, despite her best efforts to push him away. Or maybe it was because she wanted to see him fail. To watch him crumble under her defiance and realize she wasn't worth his time.

But deep down, she knew the real reason. Jungwon wasn't just the School President anymore. He wasn't the golden boy she thought he was, with a perfect life and perfect family. He was something else—someone she couldn't quite figure out. And that scared her more than she cared to admit.

The third tutoring session of the week began with a storm brewing outside the library windows. Rain tapped steadily against the glass, and the gray skies made the room feel smaller, more intimate. Jungwon was already at the table when Lea arrived, his books arranged neatly in front of him. He looked up as she approached, offering a faint smile.

"You're early," he said, surprise flickering in his tone.

"Don't get used to it," she muttered, dropping into the chair across from him. Her bag hit the floor with a thud, and she slouched in her seat, crossing her arms.

For the first twenty minutes, they worked in near silence. Jungwon reviewed her most recent assignment—a persuasive essay about community service—and Lea grudgingly answered his questions. She didn't put much effort into her responses, but at least she wasn't outright refusing to participate.

"Your argument is solid," Jungwon said, his pencil tapping against the margin of her paper, "but your evidence needs work. You can't just say volunteering is 'good for people.' Be specific. Why is it good? What impact does it have?"

Lea rolled her eyes. "Why do you care so much? It's just an essay."

"It's not just an essay," Jungwon said, his tone patient but firm. "It's practice. The better you get at this, the more prepared you'll be for finals. And if you pass, you won't have to repeat the year."

She snorted, leaning back in her chair. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not easy," Jungwon admitted. "But it's possible. And I think you're capable of more than you realize."

Lea froze, her smirk faltering for just a moment. She quickly recovered, shaking her head. "You're way too optimistic, Prez. It's annoying."

"Maybe," Jungwon said with a shrug. "But it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

The corners of her mouth twitched as if she were suppressing a smile, but she didn't argue.

It wasn't until halfway through the session that Jungwon noticed something was off.

"You keep holding your side," he said, frowning. "Are you okay?"

Lea stiffened, her hand dropping to her lap. "It's nothing."

"Lea—"

"I said it's nothing," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut.

Jungwon leaned back, studying her carefully. "You've been doing that a lot lately. And you've been coughing, too."

"So what?" she said defensively. "Maybe I've got a cold."

"Maybe," Jungwon said, though his expression suggested he didn't believe her. "But if something's wrong, you should tell someone."

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "What are you, my therapist? Just drop it, Jungwon."

For a moment, he didn't respond. Then, to her surprise, he sighed and closed his notebook. "Fine. But only if you stop pretending I have a perfect life."

Lea blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"You keep throwing it in my face," Jungwon said, his voice calm but edged with frustration. "This idea that I have everything figured out, that my family is perfect. But you don't know anything about me."

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Then enlighten me."

Jungwon hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table. For a moment, Lea thought he wouldn't answer. But then he spoke, his voice quieter than she'd ever heard it.

"My dad left when I was twelve," he said. "Just packed a bag and walked out. No explanation, no warning. My mom—she's great, but she works three jobs just to keep us afloat. Half the time, I'm the one taking care of my younger sister."

Lea stared at him, her mouth slightly open. She'd never expected this—never expected him to be anything other than the untouchable, unshakable Jungwon.

"Why do you think I work so hard?" he continued, his voice soft but steady. "I don't have the luxury of messing up. I have to be perfect because if I'm not..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

The room was silent except for the rain pounding against the windows.

"I didn't know," Lea said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, well," Jungwon said, forcing a faint smile. "Now you do."

The rest of the session passed in near silence. Jungwon returned to explaining her essay, and Lea pretended to focus, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said—about the weight he carried, the cracks he tried so hard to hide.

Later that night, as she lay in bed, she thought about her own family. Her dad, who had walked out when she was six, leaving nothing behind but a stack of unpaid bills and a note scrawled on a torn piece of paper. Her mom, who pretended everything was fine even as she drank herself to sleep most nights.

Lea had spent years convincing herself that she didn't need anyone. That she was better off alone.

But now, for the first time, she wondered if she was wrong.

And as she coughed into her hand, crimson petals staining her palm, she realized just how dangerous that thought was.

The next day, Lea arrived at the library early.

Jungwon looked up, surprised, as she slid into the chair across from him.

"You're early," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't get used to it," she muttered, pulling out her notebook.

For the first time, she didn't wait for him to ask a question. She flipped open to a blank page, her pen poised above the paper.

"What's the topic?" she asked.

Jungwon smiled, a real one this time, and slid her a new prompt. "Write about something that matters to you."

Lea stared at the paper for a long moment, her mind racing. Finally, she started to write. The words didn't come easily, but they came.

And as she wrote, she realized something.

For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she was completely alone.