Ji-hoon always felt like the shadow in his own family. While his older brother, Sang-woo, was a charismatic high-flyer at a top architectural firm, Ji-hoon was a quiet freelance illustrator, content with his sketches and the solitude of his rooftop apartment.

Min-ah wasn't just beautiful; she had a way of looking at Ji-hoon’s art that made him feel seen for the first time. She didn’t see "sketches"; she saw "stories." During the year of their engagement, she became the person Ji-hoon shared his drafts with, the one who encouraged him to publish his graphic novel.

After the wedding, the three of them often spent weekends together. But as Sang-woo’s career climbed, his presence at home dwindled. He became a ghost, leaving Min-ah in a silent house.

Weeks later, during a family dinner, Sang-woo dismissively critiqued Ji-hoon’s new book cover. Min-ah spoke up, her voice steady and sharp."You're not even looking at it, Sang-woo. You're just looking past him."

The silence that followed was deafening. In that moment, through a shared glance across the table, the truth became undeniable. Ji-hoon wasn't just falling; he was already gone. He was in love with the one person he was supposed to protect, but could never have.