Nineteen-year-old Rose Porter-Abe had everything a teen could want, except for a life of her own.
The daughter of a fashion designer and an actor, Rose finds herself lost in the long shadow cast by her parents' achievements and expectations, and una...
The grey dreary streets of Seoul were so quiet it was like something out of a dystopian movie. Only those with no other choice braved the rain and wind, all of them fighting the elements to reach their destinations as quickly as possible. Umbrellas provided no defence, they only hampered their owner's efforts by catching in the wind which seemed determined to claim them, snapping their delicate frames and turning them inside-out. Businessmen had covered their expensive suits with plastic waterproof clothing and waded through deep puddles bubbling around drains too full to cope with the deluge, staggering this way and that as each gust threatened to knock them off course. Cars skidded as they approached crosswalks, the brakes ill-equipped to handle the slick roads which had turned to rivers, and pedestrians shrieked and dodged out of the way of the vehicles which came dangerously close to striking them down.
Rose kept her head down. Within minutes of leaving the apartment, her clothes were soaked once more. She felt it all the way to her bones – the icy chill wrapping around her – but preferred it over the chill in her heart. Only now did she realise how foolish she'd been to consider letting her guard down around Tae-won. For a moment she'd thought that the man she'd met on the plane and the studio was a mask, and that she'd been blessed with a glimpse of the honest person hiding inside. Now, she thought it was the other way around. The kind, tender Tae-won who'd spoken so fondly of his mother was the mask he'd used to win his game. No, he hadn't planned the storm or to take her back to his apartment – that, she was sure, was all coincidence and unfortunate circumstance – but he'd seen that his straightforward, arrogant approach wasn't working and had tried something knew.
Like an idiot, she'd fallen for it.
It was Keiji all over again. Keiji who'd entered her life like a knight in shining armour, there to offer her what she'd always wanted; someone who saw her as a person rather than an ATM. Then and now she'd been so desperate to be loved just for being Rose that she'd ignored her head and succumbed to her childish heart which always sought to find the good in people. But there was no good in Keiji or Tae-won. The first had wanted her father's connections to further a career which, now, would never happen. The second had wanted to prove a point; that no woman could resist him, not even Rose Porter-Abe.
Rose was sure he'd known who she was when he'd announced that he'd make her fall in love with him. To her mind, this had been what had made it so exciting to Tae-won. His fans adored him without question, and women who wanted to gain something by being at his side wouldn't care if he had a terrible personality because they'd enjoy the acclaim of having his love for a brief period.
So, how did he make a woman love him when she didn't want his fame or his money?
How did a man like Tae-won win the heart of the daughter of a famous actor and world-renowned fashion mogul?
He pretended that he didn't know who she was and acted like she was special because of her personality.
Nausea churned in Rose's stomach. The more she thought about it, the more disgusted she was. Not with him. Oh, no. Having spent time with Tae-won, Rose wasn't in the least bit surprised that he'd sink so low to achieve victory. No, Rose was disgusted with herself. It wasn't all that long ago that Keiji had shown his true colours and she hadn't arrived in Korea with the intention of falling in love with anyone. Holiday romances were more Hitomi's style. Rose considered herself too pragmatic and sensible for flings and love at first sight. Yet, here she was, walking alone through Seoul in the pouring rain, her lips trembling and angry tears trickling over her cheeks because she'd let her feelings spiral out of control. Her broken heart was her own fault, but she still hated Tae-won for his part in it; for making her think that a man could love her honestly and whole-heartedly, and then snatching that illusion away.
Was she really so undesirable?
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Tae-won ran out of the building and stopped at once, looking left and right, seeking Rose out in the haze of rainfall which blurred everything at the edges. Already he was soaked through, but he didn't care. She was outside alone in this weather without any protection from the elements, without a working phone to call for help, and with no idea how to get back to her apartment building without an address to give to a cab driver. He pushed his hand through his dark hair, sweeping the sodden tresses away from his eyes and blinked off the water clinging to his lashes. His gut was telling him to go right, and he took off at a sprint, calling her name and hoping it might somehow reach her over the cacophony of the rain.
The red tartan mini-skirt was impossible to miss; Rose was the only person out in such impractical clothes. Even from a distance Tae-won could see that her head was down, her arms wrapped around her trembling torso. Everything told him to run to her, hold her tightly, and beg her to give him a chance to explain while they were somewhere safe and warm like in his apartment. Yet, as he watched her walk away, he felt a strange new sensation take hold: Fear.
Tae-won had never in his life been afraid that a woman might hate him. A lot of them did when he dumped them even when they knew that he had no intention of settling down or marrying them. He'd been slapped, screamed at in the street while his girlfriends ranted at him, but he'd never actually cared. Their words were wasted on his cold heart, and he was utterly indifferent when they walked away cursing his name.
But he cared about Rose.
He cared so much that the idea of her hating him made him believe it would've been better if they'd never crossed paths a second time. At least that way they could have continued as they were without inflicting such pain upon one another. True, he might never have opened his heart to another living soul if he had carried on living up to people's expectations of the cold but charismatic celebrity idol, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing; at least his fans would love him, even if they'd never really know him.
'Aish...' he hissed under his breath as she walked farther away and, with each step, farther from his life.
No, it couldn't end like this.
Not when it had barely started.
Tae-won slammed his feet into the concrete, the water rising in furious splashes with each racing step. 'Rose!' he cried.
Why was the city so loud?
Why were there cars still out on the street?
Why wouldn't the rain stop just long enough to let him save himself from this torment?
A cab passed him, and Rose stuck out an arm to flag it down. Time was running out. If she got into that car, it might well spell the end for him. Rose would never trust him again – never allow him to get close – and he would have to endure the pain of knowing she would seek love elsewhere.
'Oi! Rose! Japan!' he shouted as he ran, desperately trying to make her turn around and acknowledge him. The rear passenger door was open, and she was ducking inside out of the rain. No matter how hard he pushed himself, he knew he couldn't make it in time. Before he knew it, the door closed and the engine revved. As the vehicle pulled away from the kerb he sped after it for as long as he was able. Soon, it disappeared into the distance, and Tae-won stumbled to a halt, breathing hard.
Had this been one of his dramas, he'd have made it to Rose before her hand had touched the door.
Had this been one of his dramas, she'd have turned around in slow-motion to the tune of a triumphant ballad.
Had this been one of his dramas, they'd have argued loudly in the street before he brought her into his arms and kissed her passionately.
