—— Seori

The neon lights of the city illuminated the night as I happily strolled down the street, a warm cup of ramen cradled in my hands. The convenience store's fluorescent glow had provided the perfect remedy for my late-night craving. The rhythmic beat of my favorite playlist echoed in my ears, creating a carefree melody to accompany my leisurely walk.

Craving satisfied, I approached the crosswalk, eager to return to the comfort of my cozy apartment. Lost in my thoughts and the allure of the city's energy, I didn't bother checking the sides before crossing the road. My hunger had clouded my usual cautious nature.

Suddenly, the blaring honk of a car horn shattered the peaceful ambiance. Panic surged as I turned to see headlights bearing down on me. Instinctively, I tried to hasten my steps, but it was too late. The car slowed down intensely, and I felt a sharp impact against my leg.

With a gasp, I stumbled and found myself on the cold pavement, the cup of ramen now a sad puddle beside me. Pain shot through my leg, and for a moment, the world seemed to spin. As I winced, I heard the screeching of tires coming to an abrupt halt.

Out of the car emerged a guy, a little older than me, with an air of frustration. His dark eyes held a mix of annoyance and concern as he scolded me for my reckless crossing, mentioning something about losing a race. I winced not just from the pain in my leg but also from his reprimand.

"Hey, watch where you're going! You just ruined my race," he admonished, frustration evident in his tone.

Staring up at him, I managed a weak apology before he softened slightly, asking, "Are you okay?"

His concern felt genuine for a moment, but as I winced and clutched my throbbing leg, he seemed more fixated on his car than my well-being. In disbelief, I watched as he retraced his steps, leaving me sprawled on the pavement. My gaze followed him to the sleek vehicle, and frustration bubbled within me.

"My leg hurts, you know!" I called out, a mix of pain and annoyance in my voice. "You just hit me with your car, and all you care about is the damage to your precious vehicle?"

He glanced back, an apologetic look fleeting across his face, but his attention remained fixated on the scratched paint and dented metal. Anger simmered within me as I struggled to stand, clutching onto the lamppost for support.

"If you're not going to help me, I'll call the police," I warned, my voice firm despite the pain pulsing through my leg. The threat seemed to shake him from his car appraisal, and he finally turned toward me.

"Wait, calling the police is unnecessary. I didn't mean to hit you," he said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

Ignoring his words, I fumbled for my phone, determined to make him realize the gravity of the situation. "You need to take responsibility for this. I could be seriously injured, and all you care about is your stupid race and your precious car!"

He hesitated, glancing around nervously as if assessing the potential consequences of his actions. "Look, let's handle this without getting the police involved. I'll take you to a hospital or something," he offered, his tone more conciliatory now.

Nodding reluctantly, I accepted his offer to take me to the hospital. Despite my penchant for mischief and a facade of immaturity, determination flickered within me. He had gotten us both into this mess, and it was only fair that he took responsibility for it.

As he approached, ready to assist me, I shot him a look that conveyed both vulnerability and insistence. "You're going to take care of me," I declared, my voice carrying a hint of defiance beneath the pain.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by my demand. "Wait, it's not entirely my fault. You shouldn't have crossed the road like that without looking. It's your fault too," he argued, a defensive tone creeping into his words.

Rolling my eyes, I retorted, "Oh please! You were street racing! What did you expect? Flowers and rainbows on the road? It's your reckless driving that got us into this mess, and now you're going to make sure I'm okay."

His expression shifted from disbelief to a mix of frustration and begrudging acceptance. "Fine, but you better not make this more complicated than it already is," he grumbled, sliding an arm under mine to help me stand.

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Just consider it payback for ruining my ramen and giving me a reason to almost call the police. And by the way, you owe me a new cup of ramen."

As he guided me to the luxurious car, my eyes widened at the opulence within. Speechless, I gingerly settled into the plush seat, marveling at the sleek interior. The car whispered of a world far removed from mine, where the streets were not just paths but battlegrounds.

With a creak of the door, he slid into the driver's seat. The engine hummed to life, and we embarked on a journey to the hospital. The rhythmic pulse of the city outside couldn't drown out the awkward silence within.

Midway through the drive, his sleek car became a cocoon of tension. A familiar melody echoed through the car as he received a call. Tapping on the display to answer, he exchanged a few hushed words, but I couldn't help overhearing.

"Jungwon, where are you? We need you back at the race. Don't tell me you chickened out," his friend's voice teased through the speaker.

Before he could respond, I seized the opportunity to speak up. "Oh, he didn't chicken out, he just found a more exciting race on the pedestrian crosswalk. I'm sure the hospital is thrilled to have a new contender."

A moment of silence followed, punctuated only by the distant sirens. His friend seemed to be processing my unexpected revelation.

"What did you do, Jungwon? You hit someone? Seriously?" his friend exclaimed, the disbelief palpable.

I leaned back in the seat, crossing my arms with a triumphant smirk. "Yeah, he hit me with his precious racing car. Now he's playing chauffeur to make up for it."

Jungwon shot me a glare, clearly displeased with my candid disclosure. Yet, his focus remained on the call, forced to navigate the consequences of our unexpected collision.

As the call ended, Jungwon steered the car into the hospital's parking lot. My heart raced with a mix of discomfort from the throbbing pain in my ankle and the lingering amusement from our banter. He helped me out of the car, but standing proved to be a challenge. Leaning on him for support, I winced with each step.

"Can't you see I can't walk?" I remarked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

He shot back with a smirk, "Oh, should I have brought a wheelchair? Or maybe I should carry you in a bridal style?"

I couldn't resist the opportunity to play along. "Carry me? I wouldn't mind that at all."

Without missing a beat, he scooped me up in his arms, bridal style, and continued our journey towards the hospital entrance. My cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and a surprisingly pleasant warmth.

Midway through our unconventional entrance, he broke the silence. "So, how old are you anyway?"

"I'm 16," I replied, glancing up at him.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sixteen? You're underage. You should call your parents or at least one of them."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to throw caution to the wind. "Well, you can pretend to be my older brother or something. It's not like we're getting married."

He chuckled, navigating the hospital corridors with ease. "Your older brother, huh? Fine, but you owe me big for this."

As we approached the reception, the neon-lit city outside seemed a world away from the unfolding scene in the sterile hospital environment.

Jungwon, still holding me in his arms, approached the reception desk with an air of uncertainty. I met the receptionist's curious gaze and took a deep breath.

"I fell down the stairs, and my ankle hurts," I explained, my voice strained from a concoction of pain and a hint of guilt for weaving a tale.

Jungwon shot me a surprised glance, but I maintained a poker face, unwilling to expose the truth about our collision on the street. The receptionist nodded sympathetically and began filling out a form on her computer.

"And who is he to you?" she inquired, gesturing towards Jungwon.

I looked at him and answered without hesitation, "He's my older brother."

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by my choice of relation. Nonetheless, he played along. "Yeah, her older brother," he added, offering a sheepish smile.

The receptionist directed her attention to Jungwon. "Age?"

"Twenty," he replied, his response concise.

She handed us a form. "Please fill this out and have a seat in the waiting room. We'll call you when it's your turn."

As Jungwon carried me to the waiting area, I felt a mix of emotions—gratitude for his cooperation, a lingering sting of pain, and a tinge of mischief for the web of stories we were weaving. Seated together, I began filling out the form, occasionally exchanging glances with Jungwon.

Jungwon carried me into the examination room when my name was finally called. The sterile atmosphere enveloped us as the door closed behind him. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a calming demeanor, greeted us.

"Good evening. I'm Dr. Park. Let's have a look at that ankle, shall we?" she said, motioning for Jungwon to gently place me on the examination bed.

As I shifted onto the bed, Jungwon took a step back, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and curiosity. Dr. Park, with a professional yet comforting touch, began examining my leg and ankle. I winced as she probed the sore areas.

"Seems like you've got quite a sprain here," she remarked, glancing up at me. "How did this happen?"

I hesitated for a moment, exchanging a brief look with Jungwon. "I, uh, fell down the stairs at home," I replied, deciding to stick to the fabricated story.

Dr. Park nodded, making notes on her clipboard. "Alright. We'll get some X-rays just to rule out any fractures. In the meantime, I'll have a nurse bring in some pain medication for you."

As she left the room, Jungwon resumed his place beside me, the tension in the air easing slightly. I couldn't help but appreciate his support, despite the unconventional circumstances that had brought us together.

"So, stairs, huh?" he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I chuckled, shooting him a playful look. "Well, it sounded less complicated than the truth."

As we waited for the nurse to return, the humming of medical equipment served as a backdrop to our banter.

The nurse arrived with the pain medication, and soon after, I found myself being wheeled into the X-ray room. The cold metallic surroundings were a stark contrast to the warmth of the examination room. The process was quick, and soon Dr. Park informed me that it was indeed a sprained ankle, reassuring me that with some rest and the cooling ointment, I would be fine.

Jungwon carried me outside once again, settling me into the car. He asked for my house address, and I couldn't help but tease him, "You're surprisingly caring for a bad boy. Is this some kind of strategy to maintain your street cred?"

He smirked, his eyes reflecting a hint of mischief. "Don't underestimate me. I can always leave you here and be true to my bad boy aura that doesn't care about others."

I laughed, acknowledging the playfulness beneath his tough exterior. As we approached my house, he carried me to the doorstep and rang the doorbell. My mother opened the door, and her eyes widened in surprise and concern.

"What happened?" she exclaimed, her gaze shifting between Jungwon and me.

I took a deep breath, deciding to reveal the truth. "Well, Mom, Jungwon here hit me with his precious racing car."

Jungwon interjected, offering a sheepish smile, "It was an accident. I was in a street race, and she crossed the road without looking."

My mother's expression shifted from shock to a mix of concern and scolding. "Oh, dear! Are you okay, Seori?"

I nodded, unable to suppress a small smile. "Just a sprained ankle. Dr. Park said I need to take it easy."

Jungwon, still holding me, added, "I brought her home since she needed a ride. Sorry for the trouble."

My mother's stern gaze softened, and she sighed. "Well, thank you for bringing her back. Seori, you really need to be more careful."

As Jungwon left, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement and gratitude. Our collision had led to a series of unexpected events, and as I hobbled inside with a sprained ankle, I couldn't predict what lay ahead.

To be continued...