My Noona is Obsessed with Turning Me into a Star!

Chapter 14: Unwinding Tensions

Jae-min clenched the handlebars tighter, his jaw set as his mind replayed the encounter with So-ra. He had dealt with her obsession before—the constant messages, the unsettling photos she’d sent of him out in public—but this was different. This time, she wasn’t hiding behind a phone. Sitting on his bike, wearing his helmet like it belonged to her—this was her crossing a line she hadn’t before. Showing up in person, invading his space like this—it wasn’t just obsessive anymore. It felt deliberate. Darker.

He sped through the quiet streets, the city lights flashing by, but his mind remained clouded with thoughts of her. That unsettling smile. The way she leaned into him, so sure of her place in his life. He tried to shake it off, but it lingered like a bad dream. Worse, the scent of her perfume still clung to the inside of his helmet, a constant reminder that she’d been too close.

His grip tightened. He didn’t know what So-ra wanted, but it was clear this wasn’t just about lingering feelings. No, this was control. It always had been. And the fact that she thought she could just slip back into his life like nothing had changed? That annoyed him the most.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Jae-min wasn’t the type to be easily rattled, but tonight left a bad taste in his mouth. She was unpredictable, and that made her dangerous.

Pulling into the underground garage of his apartment building, he parked his bike and took off his helmet, catching the faint scent of her still lingering in the air. He’d have to clean it later—get rid of every trace of her.

Shaking off the tension, Jae-min made his way to the elevator. He wanted to leave the memory of So-ra behind, but her presence clung to him like a shadow.

Jae-min stepped off the elevator, shoulders heavy with tension as he walked down the hallway toward his apartment. His thoughts were still tangled with the encounter, but as he reached his door, something unexpected pulled him out of the dark spiral.

The soft glow of light spilling from under the door told him someone was inside.

Jae-min paused, then immediately relaxed as he recognized the pattern. He keyed in the code and opened the door to find Jin-ah sprawled comfortably on his couch, wearing one of his oversized hoodies and a pair of shorts, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn beside her. The TV was playing some movie he barely recognized, and she hadn’t even glanced up at his entrance.

It was such a stark contrast to her usual polished, professional self—the poised CEO who ran boardrooms with an iron grip, dressed in tailored suits and perfectly styled hair. Here, she looked completely relaxed, almost unrecognizable from the woman she was in the business world. But that was Jin-ah—able to shift effortlessly between her two worlds.

“Congratulations on finishing filming,” she said, her tone casual but warm, her eyes still glued to the screen. It wasn’t until he stepped inside and shut the door that she gave him a glance, her sharp gaze immediately picking up on the tension in his body. “Final day, huh? Rough one?”

Jae-min tried to brush it off, forcing a grin as he dropped his keys onto the table. “Yeah, just wrapped it up. You make yourself at home as usual, I see.”

Jin-ah smirked, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “You know I always do. Anyway, come sit down. You need to chill. Especially after a day like today.”

Jae-min hesitated for a moment, then decided to let it go. He kicked off his shoes and joined her on the couch, his body sinking into the familiar comfort. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the movie playing in the background, but Jae-min could still feel the weight of the night pressing on him. She wasn’t going to stop. Jae-min knew it deep down, even if he tried to brush it off. And that realization gnawed at him, making it impossible to fully relax, even as he sat next to Jin-ah.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jin-ah said, not taking her eyes off the screen, but her voice was more serious now. “You look distracted.”

Jae-min didn’t respond right away. He considered telling her about So-ra, about the encounter that had left him unsettled, but something made him hold back. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t want to admit So-ra had gotten under his skin. Instead, he just shrugged.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Jin-ah narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced. “Sure, it’s not something else? You’re acting weird.”

He met her gaze, flashing a casual smile to dodge her concern. “I’m always weird.”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a popcorn kernel at him. “Deflection. Classic.”

Jae-min chuckled, catching the kernel before it hit him. “Look at you, all insightful.”

“I know you too well, Jae-min,” she said with a playful smirk. “You’re bad at hiding things.”

“Nothing to hide,” he replied, shifting on the couch to get comfortable. “Really.”

For a few moments, Jin-ah didn’t push. She just watched him quietly, her expression thoughtful, before turning her attention back to the movie. But Jae-min could feel her eyes on him every so often, and it wasn’t long before she spoke up again.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, fine,” she said lightly. “But I’m here, you know? Just in case you do.”

Jae-min appreciated that, even though he wasn’t ready to dive into the mess in his head. Instead, he grabbed the remote, switching the channel to something more lighthearted. “Enough of this serious stuff. Let’s watch something better.”

Jin-ah raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, settling back into the couch beside him. “Fine, but you’re buying food tomorrow. You owe me for crashing my movie night.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

And just like that, the tension in the air seemed to lift, the weight of the night fading into the background as they fell into their usual banter, the comfort of each other’s company easing the lingering unease from the encounter with So-ra.

Jae-min settled deeper into the couch as the new show played on the screen. The lighthearted dialogue and goofy antics of the characters were a stark contrast to the tension that had been hanging over him since earlier that night. It helped, though. With Jin-ah beside him, lounging in a rare carefree manner, the unease from So-ra’s unexpected appearance started to feel more distant. Almost like a bad memory that he could soon shake off.

Jin-ah stretched lazily beside him, reaching for more popcorn, her hair falling messily over her shoulders. “You know, I could get used to these lazy nights. It’s a nice break from my glamorous CEO life,” she teased, giving him a quick glance. “You’re not a bad host either, even though you never stock your fridge.”

He chuckled softly, grateful for the distraction. “Maybe I like seeing you suffer. Anyway, you always end up ordering delivery.”

“True,” she admitted with a shrug. “But next time, we’re getting BBQ. I’m tired of all this popcorn.”

Jae-min smiled faintly, but his mind wandered again, tracing back to the alley, to So-ra’s unsettling smile as she looked up at him. The way her body had pressed against his, the way she whispered things from their past with such certainty, like nothing had changed.

She was manipulative. Always had been. That’s why it had taken him so long to leave the relationship in the first place. But this was new. Showing up like that, inserting herself back into his life so brazenly—it was a move he hadn’t expected from her. And worse, she seemed to enjoy the fact that she’d rattled him.

He knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. So-ra didn’t have the power she thought she had over him, not anymore. But still, it gnawed at him, a little too close for comfort.

As Jin-ah’s laughter filled the room at some absurd joke on the TV, Jae-min exhaled slowly, trying to let the tension release with it. She was here—Jin-ah. Safe. Constant. Her presence was the only thing grounding him at that moment, pulling him out of the spiral that So-ra’s appearance had sent him into.

He glanced at her again, seeing how effortlessly she blended into his space, how her presence always managed to calm him. She caught him looking, raising an eyebrow. “What? Do I have popcorn in my hair or something?”

Jae-min shook his head, smiling at her teasing tone. “No, just wondering how you manage to make yourself at home so easily.”

“Years of practice,” she quipped, flashing him a grin. “Plus, this couch is way too comfortable. I could probably live here.”

“Not happening,” Jae-min replied with a laugh, trying to match her light mood. “You’re not taking over my apartment, too.”

Jin-ah shot him a mock glare. “Oh, please. If I wanted to, you wouldn’t stand a chance. You’d be living in the guest room before you knew it.”

Jae-min rolled his eyes, the banter pulling him back to the moment. He was grateful for it—for the normalcy she brought into his life. He needed this. Needed her. With Jin-ah, things were simple. No complications, no mind games. Just an easy friendship that kept him grounded.

But then his phone buzzed on the table, and for a split second, his mind went back to So-ra. His stomach tensed, the earlier unease creeping back.

Jin-ah noticed his sudden shift in mood, her gaze flicking to the phone. “You expecting someone?”

“No,” Jae-min said quickly, picking it up and glancing at the screen. It wasn’t from So-ra—just a message from one of the production team members asking about a wrap-up meeting. He let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding and placed the phone back down. “Nothing important.”

But the momentary distraction had left a mark. The thought of So-ra lingering in the back of his mind, the anxiety of her potentially reaching out again. He hated that she had gotten under his skin like this, making him jump at every phone notification.

Jin-ah tilted her head, her gaze sharpening as she studied him. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You’re acting... off.”

Jae-min paused, considering her question. Should he tell her about So-ra? About how she was starting to creep back into his life in ways he hadn’t anticipated? But something in him resisted. He didn’t want to burden Jin-ah with this. He had always dealt with So-ra on his own, and he wasn’t about to change that now.

“I’m fine,” he lied, offering a half-smile. “Just tired, like I said.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push it either. “Alright, but if something’s going on, I’m here, okay?”

He nodded, appreciating her concern but still determined to keep her out of it. So-ra wasn’t her problem.

The night continued, the easy banter between them returning, but the shadow of So-ra’s presence lingered, a faint but constant reminder that things weren’t as simple as he wanted them to be. Still, sitting next to Jin-ah, he felt a small sense of control again. He would deal with So-ra—on his terms. For now, he would enjoy the calm before whatever storm she was trying to bring into his life next.