Set clash

The next morning felt deceptively normal.

Kim Ji Won arrived early at a studio set where she’d been asked to assist with costume adjustments for a drama shoot. It wasn’t uncommon for wedding designers to collaborate when a scene required couture-level detail, and she told herself she was here for work—nothing more.

Still, when she heard Park Ji Hoon’s name called across the set, her shoulders stiffened.

She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

The set buzzed with activity, staff rushing between lights and cameras. Ji Won kept her focus on the gown laid out in front of her, pinning fabric with practiced precision.

“Ji Won-ssi,” an assistant whispered urgently, “he’s coming for fitting.”

She looked up.

Park Ji Hoon walked toward her, already in costume, calm as ever. Their eyes met briefly—a quiet acknowledgment of last night’s conversation.

“You again,” he said softly, almost amused.

She resisted a smile. “Looks like fate likes overtime.”

Before he could answer, a loud shout erupted near the entrance.

“Ji Hoon-oppa!”

Everyone turned.

A group of fans had somehow slipped past security barriers, phones raised high. Staff rushed to block them, but the sudden movement caused chaos across the set.

Someone stumbled into a lighting stand.

Another assistant bumped into Ji Won’s worktable.

And then—

The delicate gown slid.

“Wait—!” Ji Won reached out but a body crashed into her shoulder, knocking her forward.

She collided straight into Park Ji Hoon.

The gown fell between them, fabric twisting, pins scattering across the floor.

For one frozen second, it looked intimate—too intimate—Ji Hoon catching her by the waist to keep her from falling.

Flashes exploded.

Click. Click. Click.

Paparazzi.

Someone had been waiting outside.

Ji Won jerked away instantly, her face flushing.

“I’m sorry”

Ji Hoon straightened, expression hardening as security finally pushed the fans back.

But it was too late.

Phones were already raised.

Videos recording.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

“Who is she?”

“Isn’t that the designer from the wedding?”

“They look close…”

Ji Won’s heart sank.

She recognized one of the fans the same girl from yesterday’s wedding. The one who had caused the dress accident.

Their eyes met briefly.

The girl’s expression wasn’t guilty anymore.

It was triumphant.

Ji Won understood instantly.

This wasn’t entirely accidental.

Her stomach twisted.

Park Ji Hoon stepped slightly in front of her, shielding her from the camera angle.

“No photos,” he said sharply to security. “Clear the area. Now.”

The command in his voice silenced everyone.

But the damage was done.

Ji Won saw her own image reflected on someone’s phone screen: her falling into Korea’s biggest actor, his hand on her waist, their faces inches apart.

A story already written.

She felt the panic rising—but forced herself to breathe.

Calm. Always calm.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, bending to gather the fallen fabric.

Ji Hoon crouched beside her, voice low so only she could hear.

“This will spread fast.”

“I know,” she replied, fingers trembling despite her steady tone.

He hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

She let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You attract chaos, Park Ji Hoon-ssi.”

He almost smiled—but his eyes were troubled.

Across the room, screens were already lighting up.

BREAKING: