1. A Fallen Star
W hen Ri Yunho witnesses the cameras flash for the first time in two years, his mind turns to one person—the fool responsible for his imprisonment.
“Ri Yunho, how does it feel to be back in the spotlight after spending two years behind bars?” one of the paparazzi asks, her voice slicing through the thick atmosphere. The tension mounts as the rest of the crowd leans in, shoving their microphones and cameras inches from the recently released young actor’s face.
Yunho stands frozen on the worn gray staircase next to Hyeomun Penitentiary. He clenches his fists, shuddering as he fights the urge to lash out and embrace the fury churning inside him.
His new driver—whoever they hired for him this time—is tardy, and despite his manager’s efforts to whisk him away from the unscrupulous crowd, the paparazzi push their way toward him, eager for a scandalous story to tell the whole world.
“Ri Yunho, is there anything you’d like to say to Jo Wooju ?” comes another question, the voice tinged with urgency. Yunho can barely hear himself breathe at the mere invocation of that fool’s name.
“People went from sympathizing with him to throwing eggs at him. Don’t you feel bad for him?”
“Ri Yunho, did you ever contact your best friend after he made such an accusation against you?”
The last question dangles in the air as Yunho snorts, shushing the crowd at once.
“Best friend, huh?” he tuts, squeezing his eyes shut from the flickering cameras. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He wants to brush them off along with their unwanted attention. They make his stomach roil in disgust. Does he need a reminder that his ex-best friend falsely accused him of physical abuse and arson, forever tarnishing his hard-earned reputation?
Not particularly, no.
Two years! He would have risen to the top in that time if not for the scandal attached to his name.
Yunho used to have tens of millions of followers all over the internet. He loved it—the fame, the acting, getting to live so many different lives on the screen. It’s all gone now.
Yunho faces the crowd again. “You think I would miss the guy who put me in prison and thank him for confessing that he’s actually the real psycho, not me?” He draws in a long breath and then releases it. “ Bullshit .”
With Yunho’s heart clobbering against his ribcage, his eyes pierce every nosy paparazzi’s soul. These people didn’t listen to him before. He was somehow “proven” guilty, and they all just believed it as if they expected such idiocy from him. They abandoned him in that cramped cell, ignoring his version of events and leaving him to collapse into a nightmare devised by somebody else. Is he really going to stand by while they trample all over him?
At one point in prison, Yunho asked for help from the prison guards and correctional nurses. He’d begged them to listen to him or at least enable him to meet up with Wooju, but none of them cared. Not even those who used to call themselves his dedicated fans.
The hatred then drained his spirit.
Perhaps now, he’s grown stronger. Despite his corrupted reputation, he seems more composed than usual.
He’s not gonna break again. Not yet, at least.
That said, Yunho still envisions himself snatching the cameras one by one and hurling them to the ground, or better yet, at the paparazzi’s faces. Years of imprisonment, specifically sleeping on an unforgiving prison mattress, resulted in him developing chronic back pain at the tender age of twenty-eight. Naturally, he feels the need to throw a tantrum and blame someone for it.
Yunho dismisses the idea when he remembers his manager, Yoon Bora, still fidgeting uselessly beside him, making sure he doesn’t flip anyone off.
Bora is in her mid-forties, but she appears at least ten years younger in her sleek black suit, slicked-back ponytail, and yellow Ray-Ban aviators. If their current situation continues to spiral out of control, it’s only a matter of time before her wrinkles resurface.
Yunho’s long pause prompts the paparazzi to stir up more commotion.
A fake smile slides across Bora’s face as she nudges his elbow. “Dear, smile until your new assistant comes with the van. You don’t have to say anything for now. We don’t want you all over Korea’s billboards yet. Not the way they want it.”
Yunho steels himself and swallows. She’s got a point, but he’s been holding back his whole life. Did he make an appeal? No. Did he badmouth Wooju to his inmates? No. Instead, he waited for Wooju to call him.
He waited in vain, just like a fool.
But today will be different. It has to be.
Yunho vows to lose control.
His glare pierces through the cameras. Lifting his chin, Yunho sets his jaw. “That Jo Wooju you all loved? I wish he’d just—” he tenses, restraining himself from spitting out more despicable words and raising his fists. Eventually, he fails and says, “rot in jail and die.”
Yunho’s confession instantly transforms the crowd’s wild commotion into a dull hum of whispers.
He thought this would satisfy him: the muted silence filling the air, the stillness enclosing him in his entirety.
For a second, it does. But after his controversial decree, Yunho discerns the mix of pity and ire in the public’s eyes. Their weight bears down on him so heavily that he feels as though he’s suffocating beneath them.
He can see it coming—like a storm crashing on a radiant day. In a few minutes or so, he’ll be in the tabloids with a stolen shot of his bare face, the awkward crew haircut he still wears like a scar from prison, and the scratchy gray tee and old jeans he had no choice but to wear today. In a few minutes or so, everyone will see just how much his incarceration has degraded him, replacing his once inextinguishable radiance with nothing but a subdued glow.
The headlines will be dramatic: After His Release From Prison, Ri Yunho Curses Jo Wooju to Death . But, as per usual (seriously, a lot of people are biased), the media will leave out the most important detail of all—the fact that Jo Wooju does, indeed, deserve a death sentence.
Considering the evidence the latter had provided to the private investigation unit several years ago, Wooju could’ve incriminated his actual abuser and prevented all of this. Instead, he used Yunho as a scapegoat, forcing his own friend to endure two years behind bars.
Wooju’s actions continue to baffle Yunho.
After turning himself in to the authorities not long ago, he suddenly confessed to hurting himself and framing Yunho out of jealousy. Despite all that, he didn’t show the slightest bit of concern about ending up in jail himself for lying in court. Not at all. So yes, yes! Someone as heartless as he deserves to die. Yunho is sure of it.
“I lost my dreams and reputation because of him,” Yunho mutters bitterly, his gruff voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “What did he lose?”
The crowd responds with more awkward silence.
He should be live on television now.
Jo Wooju must be watching him.
With that in mind, Yunho prays that his words claw their way into the man’s heart as he says, “I know some of you still believe he’s innocent. I also know you’re gonna hate me for saying this, but I really don’t care anymore.” A pause. “None of you believed I was innocent, so what’s the point of trying to please you? And to Wooju, if you’re watching this?.?.?. Are you happy? You turned the world against me. You selfish, manipulative bastard. You ruined my life, and I will never forget it. I will never forgive you ,” Yunho finishes his proclamation with a hint of desperation, fully aware of how much it would hurt Wooju.
And that is exactly what he needs.
Yunho used to believe their friendship had no limits.
For a while, it was true. They stayed strong, even amid the chaos, almost as if they shared the same soul.
But not anymore.
Their friendship didn’t survive the chaos after all. Their friendship was the chaos.
And it had to fall.