Min Hee-jin woke to the sound of rain tapping against the windows, the gentle rhythm a stark contrast to the storm that had been raging in her mind. The press conference had aired only hours ago, but it already felt like a lifetime away. She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to summon the strength to face whatever came next.

She glanced at her phone, the screen lighting up with notifications. Messages, emails, missed calls—it seemed like the entire world was trying to reach her. For a moment, she considered turning it off, shutting out the noise and the chaos. But she knew she couldn’t hide forever. She had made her choice, and now she had to live with the consequences.

With a sigh, she reached for the phone and began scrolling through the messages. There were words of support from friends, colleagues, and fans. But there were also accusations, hateful comments, people she didn’t even know demanding answers she couldn’t give.

One message caught her eye, a name she hadn’t seen in years. She opened it, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Min, it’s been a long time. I saw the press conference. I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

She stared at the message, the familiar warmth of the sender’s words wrapping around her like a blanket. It was from an old friend, someone who had known her before all of this, before ADOR, before the shaman, before the scandal. She hesitated, then typed a quick response.

“Thank you. I’m not sure what to say right now, but I really appreciate it.”

She hit send and placed the phone back on the nightstand, her thoughts a tangled mess. The rain outside had picked up, a steady downpour that mirrored the heaviness in her chest. She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the endless spiral of her thoughts.

She made her way to the kitchen, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment. She opened a cabinet, staring blankly at the rows of neatly organized tea boxes. She reached for her favorite, the one her sister used to love, and set about boiling water.

As she waited, her eyes drifted to the stack of papers on the counter—the legal documents, the transcripts, the emails that had been exchanged over the past few weeks. They were a tangible reminder of everything that had happened, of the battle she had fought and lost.

She picked up the top document, her eyes skimming over the familiar words. It was an email exchange between her and HYBE’s legal team, one of the many back-and-forths that had defined the last few months of her life. She remembered the frustration, the helplessness she had felt as they tried to paint her as a villain, as someone who had betrayed the company she loved.

She set the paper down, her hands trembling. She had tried so hard to fight, to prove that she was still in control, but it had all been for nothing. In the end, she had been forced to walk away, to leave behind everything she had built.

The kettle whistled, snapping her out of her thoughts. She poured the hot water into a mug, watching the steam rise and swirl in the air. She took a deep breath, the familiar scent of chamomile and honey calming her frayed nerves.

She carried the mug to the living room, settling onto the couch with a heavy sigh. The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle, the sound soothing in its constancy. She took a sip of tea, closing her eyes as the warmth spread through her.

For the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of what had happened. She had done what she could, given everything she had. And now, she had to let go, to move forward.

But even as she sat there, the remnants of the past lingering in the air around her, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple. The fallout from her resignation was still unfolding, and there were so many unanswered questions, so many loose ends.

What would happen to NewJeans? Would they be able to continue without her? Would they be okay?

She felt a pang of guilt, the familiar ache of worry that she had carried with her since the day the group had debuted. They were so young, so full of potential. And she had been the one to guide them, to protect them. Now, she had to trust that they would find their own way, that they would be strong enough to withstand the storm that was still raging around them.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced down, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name on the screen.

It was from Kim Ju-young, the new CEO of ADOR. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen. She had no idea what he would want to say to her, whether this was an olive branch or just another battle.

With a deep breath, she opened the message.

“Min, I know things have been difficult. I want you to know that I’m committed to doing what’s best for NewJeans. I know how much they mean to you. If you have any advice or input, I would be more than willing to listen.”

She stared at the message, her mind racing. This was unexpected. She had assumed that once she stepped down, that would be the end of her involvement with ADOR, with the group. But this… this was an opening, a chance to still have a voice, however small, in their future.

She typed a response, her fingers flying over the keys.

“Thank you, Ju-young. I appreciate that. I just want what’s best for them. Please take care of them.”

She sent the message and set the phone down, a sense of relief washing over her. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small thread of hope in the darkness that had surrounded her for so long.

The rain had stopped completely now, the sky outside beginning to clear. She stood and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. The streets were wet, the lights reflecting off the slick pavement in a kaleidoscope of colors.

It was a new day, a new beginning. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe, like she could finally start to heal.

She didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know where she would go from here. But she knew one thing: she wasn’t done yet. She would find her way back, would find a new purpose, a new dream.

Because that was who she was. A fighter, a survivor.

And she would rise again.