Min Hee-jin left the press conference feeling like a ghost drifting through the chaos of reality. The crisp air outside the building was a shock to her senses, a jarring contrast to the suffocating tension inside. She stood for a moment, letting the breeze wash over her, then pulled her coat tighter around herself and walked toward the waiting car.

As the car pulled away, she glanced back at the building shrinking in the distance, its glass facade reflecting the city skyline. It felt surreal, as if the last few hours had been a dream—a nightmare, really—that she couldn’t wake up from. She had done it. She had stood in front of the world and laid herself bare, exposing her soul to the judgmental gaze of the public. But instead of feeling relief, she felt hollow, as if she had shed a part of herself that she could never get back.

Her phone buzzed again, breaking the silence inside the car. This time it was a message from Danielle.

“We’re so proud of you. No matter what happens, we’re with you.”

Min’s eyes blurred with tears as she read the message. She typed a quick response, her fingers trembling.

“Thank you. I’m so proud of you too. I love you all.”

She hit send and then stared out the window, watching the city blur past. The press conference might have been over, but the aftermath was just beginning. The media would dissect her every word, her every gesture. Analysts would speculate on what her resignation meant for ADOR, for HYBE, for the entire industry. And through it all, she would be painted as the villain, the madwoman who had let a shaman guide her company.

She had expected this. She had braced herself for it. But it still hurt.

The car stopped in front of her apartment building, and she hesitated before getting out. She had always loved this place, a sanctuary high above the chaos of the city, but now it felt cold, empty. She took a deep breath and stepped out, nodding to the driver before heading inside.

The elevator ride up felt interminable. She watched the numbers climb, each one a reminder of the distance between her and the life she had just left behind. When the doors finally opened, she stepped into the hallway, her footsteps echoing on the polished floor.

Her apartment was exactly as she had left it, a perfectly curated space that now felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. She dropped her keys on the table by the door and made her way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. For a moment, she just sat there, staring at the wall, her mind blank.

Then, almost without thinking, she reached for her phone and opened the social media app. She had avoided looking at it since the press conference, knowing what she would find, but now she couldn’t help herself.

The comments flooded in, a torrent of praise and condemnation, support and vitriol. There were those who stood by her, who praised her courage and strength. But there were just as many—if not more—who mocked her, who questioned her sanity, who accused her of abandoning NewJeans for her own selfish reasons.

Min scrolled through them, each word a dagger in her heart. She knew she shouldn’t read them, knew that they would only make her feel worse, but she couldn’t stop. It was like picking at a wound, knowing it would bleed but unable to resist.

She stopped on one comment, a simple, vicious sentence that seemed to leap off the screen.

“Good riddance. You never deserved to be there in the first place.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes, the tears she had been holding back all day finally spilling over. She dropped the phone onto the couch and buried her face in her hands, the sobs wracking her body. It felt like the weight of the world was crushing her, like she was drowning in a sea of doubt and regret.

She had given everything to ADOR, to NewJeans. She had poured her heart and soul into building something beautiful, something meaningful. And now it was all gone, ripped away by forces she couldn’t control. It felt like a betrayal, like the universe itself had turned against her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying until there were no tears left. When she finally lifted her head, her eyes were swollen, her body aching with exhaustion. She reached for a tissue, wiping her face with shaking hands.

A soft chime broke the silence, and she glanced at her phone. Another message, this time from one of her oldest friends, someone she hadn’t spoken to in months.

“I saw the press conference. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but you’re stronger than this. You’ll get through it. I believe in you.”

Min stared at the message, the words blurring as fresh tears filled her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had been through hell before. She had faced challenges that would have broken lesser people. And she had survived.

She would survive this too.

She stood, her legs unsteady, and walked to the window. The city stretched out before her, a vast, sprawling landscape of lights and shadows. Somewhere out there, NewJeans was probably watching the same skyline, their thoughts heavy with worry and uncertainty.

Min pressed her hand against the cool glass, feeling the pulse of the city beneath her fingertips. She had lost so much today, but she hadn’t lost everything. She still had herself, her strength, her resolve. And she still had the people who believed in her, who stood by her even when the world had turned its back.

She wasn’t sure what came next, wasn’t sure how to rebuild the pieces of her shattered life. But she knew one thing: she wouldn’t let this defeat her. She would rise from the ashes of this disaster and find a new path, a new purpose.

Because she was Min Hee-jin, and she was not done fighting.

She turned away from the window, the resolve hardening in her chest like steel. She would take this one step at a time, one day at a time. And she would find her way through this storm.

One way or another, she would find a way to shine again.