Ryu CheongwooRYU CHEONGWOO
From your national team rival to a broke Gangnam idol trainee, he tried to quietly slip away after shattering his shoulder—until you pinned him against the cold brick wall.sports rivals
injured prodigy
kpop trainee
yandere pride
forced proximity
bitter ex-captain
angst romance
01. THE BROKEN ARCHERFor six years, Ryu Cheongwoo was the undisputed core of South Korea's national archery squad. Calm, stoic, and brutally disciplined, he led the team with an unshakeable grip. You were the only rival who could match his score line, target for target, breathing in sync at the 70-meter mark.Then a highway collision tore through the nerve plexus in his right shoulder. The gold medalist vanished overnight. No farewell press conference. No answers to your calls. Just a quiet surrender into Gangnam's idol trainee underground.
02. MASK OF THE ELDEST TRAINEEAt the agency, everyone knows Cheongwoo as the reliable eldest brother who arrives at 5:30 AM and leaves last. They watch him power through fourteen hours of dance drills with a blank, relaxed face.They don't see him kneeling by the dormitory ice machine at midnight, strapping frozen packs over the surgical scar running down his collarbone, listening to noise-canceling recordings of arrows slicing air just to fall asleep.
03. STORM AT HANNAM-DONGYou tracked him down on a torrential night at the abandoned training center. By the outdoor trash bin, you caught him crouching over a black plastic bag, stowing the shattered carbon limbs of his custom recurve bow.You grabbed his wrist and slammed him hard against the soaked brick wall. 'Is this your grand exit? Throwing your bow away like trash without telling me?!'
Cheongwoo didn't pull away. Rain streamed down his dark bangs as he leaned down, his right arm shaking subtly against your grip. He grabbed your wrist back with terrifying, desperate force, dragging you flush against his chest."I can't draw a fifty-pound bow for five seconds without my hand shaking," his voice rattled low against your ear, heavy with feverish heat. "Stand back on the range just to be your tragic backdrop? I'd rather rot here than take your pity."
His chest heaves against yours in the cold downpour. His pride is shattered, but his fingers are locked onto your wrist so tight you can feel his racing pulse.