The Faded Ticket's Promise
Before long, the sky is dyed in a mysterious sunset blending deep crimson and purple hues. Five straight rides on the Giant Drop, ten on the roller coaster. Hopping on the attractions one after another with zero wait time is more than enough to drain my stamina down to rock bottom. Having blazed through a course that would take a normal person half a day in just two hours, I finally throw in the towel, sprawling across a bench by the fountain and heaving for breath.
"Jinwoo-ya, you okay? Thirsty? Want me to grab you some cool water?"
Seol-ah plops down right next to me, her face fluffy and not a single drop of sweat in sight. She's spent the whole day dashing around this massive amusement park in high-heeled designer shoes, yet her eyes are glued only to the lines of my face, like missing even a single breath or twitch from me would be a disaster.
"Nah... water's fine. Just let me rest like this for five minutes. How the hell don't you get tired?"
"Seeing you smile wipes away all my fatigue. For real."
"Yeah, right."
"It was like that even when we were kids. Whenever you'd grin at me from the alleyway, I'd feel great all day, even without eating."
Seol-ah's small, soft fingertips gently brush back the bangs sticking to my forehead. The ruthless chaebol heiress who was just barking icy orders at the park director and staff like winter frost? Gone without a trace.
"Jinwoo-ya, remember? When we were ten, sharing a choco pie in front of that rundown corner store at the end of the alley."
"Of course. You always scarfed it down so fast, I'd end up just sucking on the stick."
"Pfft, liar. You always ate slow on purpose, leaving more for me. Think I didn't notice?"
Seol-ah bursts into clear, tinkling laughter and lightly rests her head on my shoulder. Time is weird. We're adults living in completely different worlds now, but the moment we lean shoulder-to-shoulder and reminisce, we always slip right back to that narrow, cozy alley that was our whole universe.
"Alright, ready to wrap up? The park's highlight has to be the Ferris wheel."
Once I've caught my breath, Seol-ah stands and tugs my hand. We head to the massive Ferris wheel smack in the center of the park. The sun has fully set, darkness cloaking everything, when thousands of LED bulbs along its enormous steel frame start twinkling one by one in iridescent light.
"Let's ride, Jinwoo-ya."
Clunk. With a pleasant jolt, our capsule begins slowly rising into the air. The faint calliope music from the ground fades away, leaving only our two quiet breaths in the fully sealed pod. The park scenery recedes below, its dazzling night view coming into full panorama. Beyond it, the distant city lights stretch endlessly.
I'm silently taking in the peaceful, beautiful vista when—
"Jinwoo-ya. Remember?"
Seol-ah, sitting across from me with her hands neatly folded on her lap, speaks cautiously. Her voice carries a tension unlike her usual confident, poised director self. I can even see her fingertips trembling faintly.
"What?"
"When we were exactly ten. I really wanted to come to this park."
She points out the window toward a small, dark hill on the park's outskirts.
"But you said we couldn't afford tickets, so I threw a fit and dragged you up that hill anyway. Said we'd at least see the twinkling Ferris wheel lights from up high."
"Oh... yeah, I remember. You cried so pitifully, I broke a real sweat calming you down. Carrying you back down left my legs bruised for days."
The bittersweet memory floods back crystal clear.
"Right. I plopped down bawling at the sight of that wheel, and you pulled out a crumpled sketchbook page from your pocket and started drawing something."
"Huh? Me? Sketchbook paper?"
Fragments of my hazy memory start clicking into place as Seol-ah slips a hand into her coat's inner pocket. She pulls something out with exquisite care, like handling the world's most fragile glass, cradling it in both hands.
It's a small, faded scrap of paper bearing the marks of countless years—edges frayed from folding and unfolding hundreds of times, clumsily patched with tape.
"What's that...?"
"Open it."
I take the paper she offers and unfold it with shaking hands.
Dream World Lifetime Free Admission Ticket.
When I grow up, Kang Jinwoo will definitely take Han Seol-ah!
Promise!
My mind blanks out in a white flash, like a sledgehammer to the back of my head. That night on the dark hillside, desperate to soothe the sniffling little girl, crushed by my own powerlessness—I'd scribbled this fake ticket with crayons from my bag.
'Jinwoo-ya, when you're grown up and rich... you have to bring me here for real with this! Promise?'
The voice of little Seol-ah, tears and snot streaming as she hooked her pinky with mine and declared it fiercely, echoes in my ears like a phantom.
That worthless scrap. So flimsy it'd tear in the rain or blow away in the wind. She'd treasured this one fragile promise for over ten years—the heir to a conglomerate that dominates Korea, keeping it closest to her heart, never once letting it leave her side.
"You... you've kept this all this time?"
My voice cracks without warning. The shock and overwhelming emotion hit so hard my vision spins.
Tears well up in Seol-ah's big eyes. The bold woman who'd chartered the entire park? Vanished. Before me sits only the fragile girl from ten years ago, pinkies hooked, sobbing her heart out.
Her voice trembles pitifully as she rises unsteadily, shuffles to my side, and sits. Her small hands envelop mine—still holding the paper—with tender care, but gripped so firmly this time, like she'll never let go.
"Because you promised you'd come get me someday... take me to the amusement park."
"Seol-ah..."
"I'm a real adult now, Jinwoo-ya. And... you actually brought me here today."
A clear teardrop rolls down her pale cheek, splashing hot on the back of my hand. A sharp pang stabs my chest like shattered glass.
Not the billions in dividends or mall shares—those shiny capitalist shells mean nothing. This stubborn, obsessive pure love, cherishing that clumsy childhood promise like the world's most sacred faith.
Every bit of obsession and manic possessiveness she's shown since we reunited? It all stems from a deep fear of losing me again, and the desperate wait encoded in this tattered ticket.
The weight of her pure, heavy emotions crushes me completely. I surrender.
The Ferris wheel reaches its peak, the dizzying summit. Outside, stars sparkle like they're about to pour down; the park's lights glitter like jewels far below.
"Don't cry, Seol-ah. I'm sorry. So sorry for leaving you alone without a word."
I tuck the ticket carefully into my pocket, spread my arms, and pull her trembling body into a tight embrace, no gaps.
"I won't... ever leave you alone again. I'll stay by your side forever."
As I gently stroke her wet cheek and wipe her tears, Seol-ah throws her arms around my neck and wails like a child.
"Waaah... For real? It's a promise? I'm never leaving your side, not even for a second. Even if you try to run, I'll handcuff you and keep you forever!"
Even through her tear-streaked face, that fierce possessiveness slips out, and I can't help but chuckle.
"Got it. Handcuff me—I won't run. So stop now, or you'll ruin that pretty face."
Under the twilight sky, inside the world's highest Ferris wheel capsule. I gently lift her chin and lean in, pressing my lips to her trembling ones.
No billion-won fireworks or orchestral fanfare. Taesung Group, chaebol heiress—none of it matters now. Just the tremor of her small shoulders in my arms, the salty tears on her lips, and the warm melt of ten years' longing. That's perfection.
"I love you, Jinwoo-ya. More than my life."
Our lips part; she gazes up at me, face flushed crimson, whispering softer than the night breeze. I kiss her forehead lightly in reply.
"I love you too, Seol-ah."
After all the twists and turns, we meet again—my one and only first love.