The Wife – A Love That Hurts

The bedroom was dimly lit, the flickering glow of a single bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Outside, the city carried on—cars honking, people laughing, life moving forward. But inside these walls, time stood still.

She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers clutching the edge of her saree, heart pounding like a caged animal. She could hear him moving in the other room—the clink of ice against glass, the slow shuffle of his feet as he poured himself another drink.

Her husband.

A man she once believed she loved. A man who had held her hand with such tenderness when they first married. A man who whispered sweet promises in the dark. But now? Now, he was something else.

“Come here.” His voice cut through the silence, slow and deliberate.

She swallowed hard. If she ignored him, he would get angry. If she obeyed, she knew what would happen. Either way, she would lose.

Her bare feet touched the cold marble as she rose. She walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. He sat in the armchair, swirling his whiskey, his eyes dark with something hungry.

“You’re late tonight.” His voice was smooth, but there was venom beneath it.

“I was with my mother—”

His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist so tightly that she gasped. His grip was bruising, his fingers digging into her skin. “Did I ask for an excuse?”

She shook her head, eyes lowered.

He pulled her down onto his lap, his lips pressing against her neck—but there was no warmth, no affection. Just control. His fingers traced her collarbone before moving lower, gripping her waist possessively.

This isn’t love.

She had told herself for years that what they had was real. That love came in different forms. That the roughness in his touch, the pain in his presence, was just a part of marriage.

But why did it feel like she was suffocating?

His hands tightened around her waist. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.”****"No one else will ever want you."

She bit her lip, forcing back tears. Because a part of her still wanted to believe in the love they once had.

But deep down, a darker thought crept in.

What if she had never truly loved him at all?

---

The Lost Man – A Champion Turned Ghost

The cold night air bit at his skin, but he barely felt it.

He sat slumped on a rusted park bench, a bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. The stench of cheap whiskey clung to him, mixing with the sweat and regret that never seemed to leave his skin.

A few children played in the distance, their laughter piercing through the silence. It made him sick.

“Shut up!” he suddenly roared, voice raw and broken.

The children froze, wide-eyed, before running away. Their parents glanced at him, whispering, judging. He was used to it.

Two men stood nearby, muttering as they stole glances at him.

"That's him, right? The guy from the news years ago?"

"Yeah. He was supposed to be a legend. Now look at him."

He let out a bitter laugh, taking another swig from the bottle. He didn’t care anymore.

Once, he had been a king. A rising soccer star, one step away from national fame. His name had been everywhere.

And then… the final match happened.

His fingers tightened around the bottle. The memory clawed at his mind—the blinding stadium lights, the roaring crowd, the snap of a bone.

The blood. The pain. The end of everything.

Now, he was nothing. Just a washed-up has-been who roamed the streets, a joke for people to whisper about.

He should have died that day.

At least then, he wouldn’t have to wake up to this hell.

---

The Student – Hiding Her Scars

The bathroom mirror was cracked, much like her life.

She lifted her school shirt slightly, biting her lip as she stared at the fresh bruises on her ribs. Purple. Deep. Painful.

She pulled the fabric back down quickly, adjusting her uniform. No one needed to know.

She had learned early on that showing weakness only made things worse. At school, the bullying was endless. At home? She was invisible.

Her parents were dead. A car crash. A mistake. A moment that shattered her world. Now, she lived with relatives who barely tolerated her presence.

Outside, the whispers began.

"She’s such a freak."

"Did you see the way she hides her face? So pathetic."

"I bet she likes getting hurt. Maybe she enjoys it."

She walked past them, keeping her head down, hands clenched into fists.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight back. But what was the point?

No one would listen. No one cared.

And so, she walked home in silence, the weight of the world pressing down on her small, bruised shoulders.

---

The Fighter – Blood, Sweat, and Survival

The underpass smelled like piss and desperation. But it was home.

He sat against the cold concrete, pressing a rag to the fresh cut above his eyebrow. The fight tonight had been brutal.

He had lost. Again.

The underground fight circuit was unforgiving. If you weren’t strong, you were nothing.

And right now? He was nothing.

His stomach growled, but hunger was the least of his problems. Respect. Survival. These were the real struggles.

He wasn’t some trained champion. He wasn’t rich, famous, or skilled. He was just a boy with fists and nowhere else to go.

Tonight, he had been knocked out cold. Laughed at. Spit on.

But he wouldn’t stay like this forever. He couldn’t.

Because in this world, you either rise… or you get buried.

---

Four Lives, Four Struggles… One Fate

They had never met. Their worlds couldn’t be more different.

But fate had already begun its work.

And soon, their paths would collide in ways none of them could ever imagine.

Some would rise. Some would fall. And some would never escape the fate already written for them.

---

---

📍 Scene 1: Seo Yoon-ah – A Prison of Silence

The penthouse was massive, a masterpiece of modern architecture—but it felt empty.

Seo Yoon-ah sat alone in the dimly lit living room, her fingers tracing patterns on the cold leather couch. The air smelled of expensive perfume and the faint trace of whiskey, the scent her husband left behind after every violent night.

She looked at the grand piano near the window. Once, she used to play. Now, it was just another piece of furniture, collecting dust like her dreams.

Joon-seok had left for a business meeting. She should feel relieved—but instead, she felt something worse.

Loneliness.

The house was silent. The staff never spoke unless spoken to. She had no friends, no family who cared, no one to talk to.

Her phone buzzed.

A text from her husband: “Don’t leave the house.”

As if she ever had the choice.

Her bruises still ached from last night, but what hurt more was the emptiness inside her.

---

📍 Scene 2: Baek Ji-hoon – A Fallen Star in the Gutter

The streets of Hongdae were alive with neon lights and laughter. But for Baek Ji-hoon, it was just another night of humiliation.

His shirt was stained, his breath reeked of soju, and his steps were uneven.

“Hey, it’s the drunk loser again!”

A group of four young men, all college students, approached him near a convenience store. Ji-hoon knew them. They did this often.

“Still pretending you were once a big deal, old man?” one of them sneered.

Ji-hoon ignored them and reached for his wallet—he just wanted a drink and some food. But the moment he pulled it out, one of the guys grabbed his wrist.

“What’s this? You still have money?”

Ji-hoon tried to resist, but he was too weak. They shoved him against the store wall, punching his ribs.

A sharp pain shot through his side as his wallet was yanked away.

“Just drink yourself to death already,” one of them muttered before spitting at him.

They left him on the ground, clutching his stomach.

A woman passing by looked at him with disgust.

A store worker sighed, muttering, “That guy’s always causing trouble.”

No one helped. No one cared.

This was his life now.

And he hated every second of it.

---

📍 Scene 3: Choi Min-seo – A Nightmare at School

The school hallways were nearly empty after classes. Choi Min-seo walked fast, keeping her head down, gripping her bag.

She knew they were waiting.

The moment she turned the corner, a hand grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going, Min-seo?”

It was Jae-hyun, the boy who always tormented her. Two of his friends stood behind him, smirking. Two girls from their group leaned against the lockers, watching with amusement.

Min-seo tried to pull away, but Jae-hyun pushed her against the wall.

“Still acting shy? You should be grateful we give you attention,” he whispered against her ear.

Min-seo felt sick.

One of the girls laughed. “Let’s have some fun with her.”

Jae-hyun’s fingers brushed against the hem of her skirt, his grip tightening on her waist.

Min-seo’s heartbeat pounded in terror.

The hallway was empty. No one would stop them.

Her nails dug into her palm as she clenched her fists. Not again.

She had no strength, no power—but she had her anger.

With all the force she had, she kicked Jae-hyun in the shin and shoved him away.

His eyes darkened in rage.

“You little—”

A loud footstep echoed in the hall.

A teacher.

Jae-hyun immediately let go, smirking. “See you tomorrow, Min-seo.”

The group walked away like nothing happened. Like they hadn’t just tried to break her.

Min-seo slid down the wall, breathing heavily.

Her arms were shaking.

Tomorrow, it would happen again.

And no one would save her.

---

📍 Scene 4: Jung Hwan – Pain is Survival

Under the Dongdaemun bridge, Jung Hwan sat against the cold concrete wall, his body bruised and aching.

The last fight had been brutal. He had barely walked away.

But he had won just enough money for food.

The cheap instant noodles in his hands were barely warm. He ate them slowly, ignoring the pain in his ribs.

This was his life. Fighting. Bleeding. Eating just enough to survive.

He wasn’t the best fighter. He wasn’t strong enough yet.

But one day, he would be.

As he swallowed the last bite, he saw a man standing nearby, watching him.

Baek Ji-hoon.

The drunk from the park.

Ji-hoon smirked. “Kid, you hit like shit.”

Hwan glared at him. “And you smell like piss.”

Ji-hoon chuckled.

“Wanna learn how to actually fight?”

Hwan paused.

The man was a drunk. A failure. But there was something in his eyes—a shadow of the past.

Something told him this guy wasn’t just an ordinary loser.

Maybe, just maybe, Ji-hoon knew something he didn’t.

---

---

📍 Scene 1: Seo Yoon-ah –

The morning air was crisp, but Seo Yoon-ah felt nothing. Her body still ached from last night, but she had learned to move through the pain.

She walked along the street, eyes distant, heart heavier than her expensive handbag.

Then she saw him.

A man sitting on the sidewalk, slumped against the wall, his face swollen and bruised. His clothes were filthy, his hair a mess, his eyes hollow.

People walked past him like he didn’t exist.

For a second, their eyes met.

She should have felt pity, maybe even disgust.

But all she felt was… understanding.

Before she could think, a car horn blared behind her, snapping her out of the moment.

She looked away and kept walking.

She had enough problems of her own.

---

📍 Scene 2: Baek Ji-hoon –

The alley smelled like piss and cheap alcohol—the scent of his existence.

Baek Ji-hoon braced himself as the first kick landed.

"Look at this fucking loser."

"Weren’t you supposed to be some big deal once?"

The laughter echoed around him. He wasn’t sure if it was them or his own mind mocking him.

He didn’t even try to fight back.

Then, suddenly—

"That’s enough."

The voice was calm but firm.

Ji-hoon blinked through the pain, struggling to focus. A young man stood at the entrance of the alley—Jung Hwan.

---

📍 Scene 3: Jung Hwan –

Jung Hwan didn’t know why he stepped in.

Maybe because he was tired of seeing people like him get beaten down.

Maybe because he saw himself in this drunk, broken man.

Either way, he clenched his fists and threw the first punch.

The tallest guy stumbled back, surprised.

Then the fight truly began.

Jung Hwan wasn't the best fighter, not yet. He took a hit to the ribs, then another to the jaw.

But he kept going.

Kept hitting.

Until the boys ran off, cursing.

Ji-hoon let out a small chuckle, blood dripping from his lip.

"You fight like a dog," Ji-hoon muttered.

Jung Hwan, still catching his breath, rolled his eyes. "You’re welcome, old man."

Ji-hoon shook his head. "Shouldn’t have helped me, kid. I’m not worth it."

"Yeah, well, I wasn’t helping you. I just hate watching weak people get beaten."

Ji-hoon stared at him for a moment, then grinned despite the pain.

"You’re not bad, but you could be better," Ji-hoon said.

Jung Hwan raised a brow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Ji-hoon stretched his sore arms, wincing. "It means… you need someone to train you."

Jung Hwan laughed out loud.

"You? Train me?" He pointed at Ji-hoon’s bruised face. "A drunken man who can't even defend himself?"

Ji-hoon smirked.

"You’d be surprised, kid," he said, his voice steady for the first time in years.

And for the first time, Jung Hwan hesitated.

There was something in Ji-hoon’s eyes—something more than just a broken man.

📍 Scene 4: Choi Min-seo –

Choi Min-seo saw the fight as she walked home.

She wasn’t sure why she stopped. Maybe because she was always the one getting beaten.

For a second, she thought about helping.

But she knew better.

So she kept walking.

No one ever helped her.

Why should she help them?

Their paths are crossing. But fate has bigger plans.