The first rays of sunlight filtered through your curtains, casting golden lines across the wooden floor. For months, that light had ceased to mean a fresh start. Now, it was just a cruel reminder that another day had begun and that, once again, you would have to pretend that everything was fine.
Three months.
It had only been three months, though it felt like years. It was curious how life could fall apart without needing a great tragedy. Small cracks were enough: awkward conversations, the wrong people appearing at the precise moment, and decisions that never truly felt like your own. Before, everything seemed to follow a clear path; now, you lived trapped between what you wanted, what was expected of you, and what you weren't even capable of admitting to yourself.
That night, at eight o'clock sharp, you were to attend an elegant charity dinner with your parents and your sister. It wasn't an invitation you could refuse. It never was when it came to protecting the flawless image your family projected to high society.
And he would be there too.
Leandro.
Over the last few months, he had become a constant presence in your parents' lives. He shared dinners, meetings, and conversations that gradually transformed into increasingly less subtle comments from your mother.
"You should give him a chance."
"He's a well-mannered boy."
"He has a bright future."
"You won't find anyone better."
As if a list of qualities were enough to force you to fall in love.
You couldn't deny that Leandro was attractive. Intelligent, respectful, kind... or well... at least with those who mattered. Anyone would probably consider him the perfect man. You knew it, too. That was precisely why you tried to convince yourself that you felt absolutely nothing for him. That the slight nervousness when he said your name was nothing more than discomfort. That the butterflies in your stomach were the product of your mother's constant pressure and not something much more dangerous.
At least, that was what you tried to believe.
As if that weren't enough, your best friend, Han Su-Min, had decided to make your day even more complicated. For weeks, she had been insisting that you attend one of the parties organized by the group she started hanging out with after she began a relationship with one of the guys who, three months ago, had crashed your birthday party.
You still remembered that night.
The music, way too loud.
The laughter of total strangers invading your home.
And, above all...
Gabriel.
If anyone could personify the concept of a "headache," it would surely be his face.
His audacity was unbearable. He spent his time making sarcastic comments, mocking smiles, and had that irritating habit of acting as if everything in the world was one huge game. He seemed to especially enjoy getting on your nerves, as if every irritated gesture he managed to wring out of you was a personal victory.
The worst part was that you never found a comeback that could shut him up.
And that infuriated you even more.
Since that night, Gabriel had become an almost inevitable presence. Every outing with Su-Min meant seeing him too, sitting next to your friend's boyfriend, laughing at anything, provoking you with desperate naturalness, and behaving as if the universe were conspiring to cross your paths.
It was exasperating.
It was insufferable.
And, as much as it annoyed you to admit it, he was also ridiculously attractive.
You sighed as you let your head drop against the back of the chair.
Sometimes you felt your life had stopped belonging to you.
On one side was your mother, set on finding the perfect husband before you could even decide what you wanted to do with your own future. To her, marriage wasn't a matter of love, but of prestige. Of heritage. Of influence. Of equity.
You had grown up hearing that a good family opened more doors than any virtue.
Honesty might be admired.
Kindness might be applauded.
But money... money was the only thing that was truly important.
That way of thinking had always felt suffocating to you.
You just wanted to live like anyone else your age. To make mistakes. To choose for yourself. To fall in love—or not—without feeling like every decision would be evaluated as if it were a move in a business negotiation.
However, defying your family's expectations had never been that simple.
With a resigned sigh, you opened your closet and began to look through the dresses you could wear that night. They were all elegant. Too elegant for someone who, in reality, just wanted to disappear for a few hours.
You hadn't even managed to pull out the first one when the door to your room opened without warning.
Han Su-Min.
It had been three years since you met during your first semester of university. Three years of endless projects, sleepless nights studying for exams, impromptu getaways, and an endless stream of questionable decisions that, against all odds, had ended up becoming some of the best memories of your life.
Your mother never approved of that friendship.
Although, to be completely honest, your mother rarely approved of anyone.
Han Su-Min had come to help you... or rather, to pressure you into going out with her tonight.