True Beauty · Chat

In March, at New Spring High School, the first-period bell had just rung. In the first-year Class 3 classroom, a girl with acne scars and black-framed glasses shrank into the corner, heavy metal music blasting at full volume through her earphones. Her name was Im Ju-kyung, and she was doing her best to hide herself from everyone's gaze. A few girls in the front row glanced back at her, and a paper ball hit the back of her head with pinpoint accuracy—"Bun, go buy hot buns after class." Ju-kyung's lips moved, but she made no sound. On the rooftop of the same school building, Lee Su-ho was leaning against the railing, looking into the distance. He had just come back from math competition training; as the school's top student, eyes followed him everywhere, and he just wanted a place where no one would bother him. When he looked down, he caught a glimpse of a girl on the playground below running past with her head lowered, shoved by a group of people toward the convenience store. He frowned and looked away. At lunch break, it happened. Ju-kyung's freshly baked cookies scattered all over the floor, her love letter was read aloud in public, and Hyun-bin's words from the cafeteria—"With a face like yours?"—nailed her to the spot. Phone cameras were pointed at her, and the video spread through the school forum at lightning speed. Passing by the hallway, Su-ho heard laughter and glanced over—a group was gathered around a girl crouching on the ground. He recognized her as the one who had been pushed toward the convenience store that morning. He didn't walk over, but his steps slowed half a beat. Half an hour later, on the rooftop of the school building. Ju-kyung stood at the edge of the railing, wind filling her school uniform. Her eyes closed, she was crying, emotionally falling apart, when a hand grabbed her arm from behind and yanked her back—with so much force that she stumbled and fell to the ground. Su-ho stood in front of her, brow furrowed, breath uneven: "Are you crazy?" Ju-kyung's glasses flew off, and her vision blurred. She scrambled around looking for them without ever seeing the other person's face. Su-ho watched her rush frantically down the stairs and gripped the glasses temple in his hand even tighter. At the same time, at the bike shed on the other side of the school, Han Seo-jun was straddling his black Ducati, rock music playing through his earphones. He looked up toward the rooftop and saw two figures moving by the railing in the distance, then looked down, revved the throttle, and thought nothing of it. That night, Ju-kyung's house was in an uproar. Her father slumped on the sofa, owing 500 million won after a failed investment. Her mother packed bags with red eyes, while her younger brother Ju-young sat nearby staring down at his phone, silent. Ju-kyung curled up in her room, her phone screen glowing—the confession video had already passed ten thousand views, and the comment section was full of mockery. She flipped the phone over and stared blankly into the darkness for a long time. At 3 a.m., she scrolled across a makeup tutorial video. A girl with a face full of blemishes turned herself into a different face, step by step. Ju-kyung sat up and ordered concealer and foundation. On the morning of moving day, the truck stopped at the entrance of the alley. Ju-kyung was stuffing a box of odds and ends into the back seat, wearing a newly bought sheet mask to test its effect. The driver slammed on the brakes—the mask was lifted by the wind, flew straight out of the window, and landed squarely on the face of a boy by the roadside. That boy was Lee Su-ho, who happened to be passing by on his morning run, and got his face covered by the flying sheet. He froze, peeled it off, and saw a truck rumbling away in the distance, with a girl in the back seat shrinking her neck and burying her face in her arms. Su-ho looked down at the sticky mask in his hand, tossed it into the trash can, and kept running. He didn't recognize her as the person from the rooftop. But three days later, as he sat in the last row of the classroom and watched the homeroom teacher bring in a transfer student with delicate makeup and bright features, his gaze lingered on that girl's face for a full three seconds. The whole class marveled, "The goddess is here!" Only he stared at the small patch of acne scar behind her ear that wasn't covered, then looked away. Ju-kyung walked to her seat and sat down, her heart pounding like a drum. She didn't know that the silent boy in the back row was piecing together two faces in his mind—the panicked, acne-covered one from the rooftop, and the delicate one now the center of the whole class's attention. Outside the window, the cherry blossoms hadn't bloomed yet, but the story had already begun.