### **15 Years of Lies**

### **15 Years of Lies**

He will hate me… for the things I said and the things I didn’t do—just for him.
I’m truly sorry, Jungkook.

**September 4, 2029 – 7:12 PM – Russia**

Eliza, my best friend, is smiling brightly while staring at her phone. Her golden hair falls gently behind her ears as she says,
“Hey Leti, look!”
She holds her phone out to me.
Ah, Jungkook again. But honestly, this boy saved my friend from depression.
I glance at the photo. “Jungkook again?”
“Don’t say it like that! He’s so attractive—more than attractive. I’d die for him!”
“Oh really? You’d actually die for him?”
“Yeah.”
She gives a sad smile and whispers, “He’s the only one who saved me.”

***

**(5 hours later)**

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around me. My brown hair was dripping, so I tucked it behind my ears.
Like always, I shower at night and then scroll through Instagram.
I grabbed my phone, lay down on my bed. No one else was home.
As soon as I looked at the screen, my heart dropped. My skin turned pale like chalk.
Headline:
**“Jeon Jungkook, famous singer, assassinated.”**
My eyes widened. You’re kidding, right?
I left Instagram, searched on Google. Same news.
**“Jeon Jungkook was shot and killed at the airport on the evening of September 4 by one of his own bodyguards.”**

I jumped up, got dressed quickly. My wet hair clung to my skin.
I checked my messages—Eliza had texted me an hour ago. Why didn’t I see it?
She wrote:
**“Leticia, I love you. You’re my best friend. Don’t ever care what others say. Your purple eyes are flawless.”**
She’d even sent a voice message, but I didn’t listen.
Tears streamed down my face.
I ran down the stairs and out into the rain.
I didn’t care.
I ran toward Eliza’s house.
My foot caught on a stone and I fell, but it didn’t matter.
It might sound impossible, but I’m the devil.
A devil raised among humans.
Blue and green eyes are beautiful, right?
But have you ever seen someone with purple eyes? No?
Because only 1% of the 7 billion people on Earth have them.
And reactions vary—some say it’s beautiful, others say it’s ugly, scary, even demonic.
At school, I only saw the second option.
The only one who ever cared for me was Eliza.

I reached her house, panting, soaked to the bone.
My trembling hand pressed the doorbell.
Her mother opened the door, but I didn’t have time.
I pushed past her and ran up the stairs.
I opened the door and screamed.
My body trembled.
My eyes filled with tears.
I had never felt this broken before...