Hae‑won's eyes fluttered open to the soft chirp of her alarm—set precisely at 7:17 AM, the "lucky time" she and Ji‑hoon had jokingly agreed on. But today's alarm was drowned out by something far more thrilling: laughter—bright, musical laughter—echoing through her apartment. She sat up, blinked against the morning light, and realized she wasn't alone.
The living room had transformed overnight into a pastel wonderland. Ribbons and streamers draped every surface, cherry‑blossom petals (artificial, of course) floated in clear glass vases, and tiny twinkle lights zigzagged across the ceiling like constellations. On the coffee table, there lay a treasure trove of gifts:
A stack of hand‑written letters tied with silk thread.
A plush alpaca wearing a miniature graduation cap—courtesy of Choi Eun‑sae.
A framed polaroid collage of candid moments: her latte mishap, her tears in the stairwell, her triumphant stroll through the courtyard with Ji‑hoon.
A box of handcrafted macarons, each stamped with her initials "SHW."
And in the corner, perched on a stool, sat Ji‑hoon himself—hair artfully tousled, uniform perfectly neat, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
"Happy Bloom Bash Eve," he greeted, lifting a mug of hot chocolate topped with a ridiculously tall swirl of whipped cream. "Ready for the big day?"
Hae‑won laughed, incredulous, and padded across the carpet in her socks. "I can't believe you did all this."
He shrugged, eyes twinkling. "Do you know how many brainstorming sessions it took to convince my driver that 'decorating my girlfriend's apartment like a K‑drama set' was a legit weekend plan?"
She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "You made your driver do this?"
He winced. "Technically, yes. But only after I promised him we'd never speak of it again." He reached out, brushing a stray petal from her hair. "You deserve it."
By 8 AM, her phone had exploded. JHighGossip's "Bloom Bash" live stream was running a morning preview: a drone shot of her apartment's festive windows, a countdown timer, and a banner proclaiming "SURPRISE PARTY AT HAE‑WON'S PLACE!" Comments scrolled by:
> "Is this real life?"
"She's the queen of Jungwon High!"
"Latecomer alert: who's bringing the pastries?"
Hae‑won groaned. "They're going to camp outside the gate."
Ji‑hoon kissed her temple. "Let's head out before they swarm."
She snatched up the alpaca and letters, shoved them into her backpack, and followed him out the door—just in time to see a half‑dozen students fiddling with their drones, ready to livestream her departure. Cameras pointed, phones ready. She adopted her best "calm superstar" expression—chin up, half‑smile—and marched to his car, where he held the door open with exaggerated chivalry.
---
Gate Crashers & Gift Wranglers
At the school gate, the scene was already chaotic. A banner made of construction paper spelled out "BLOOM BASH" in shaky letters, held up by Park Min‑joon and Lee Joon‑seok. Tae‑woo manned a makeshift coffee cart (smells of cinnamon and regret drifting from it), while Eun‑sae distributed pastel wristbands reading "I 💗 HAE‑WON".
Students flocked, shouting greetings and snapping selfies. "Over here, Miss Bloom!" "You look stunning!" "Free hugs?"
Hae‑won waved, cheeks hot. She'd never been so publicly celebrated—nor so publicly mortified.
Ji‑hoon looped an arm around her waist. "Ignore them," he murmured. "Just follow me."
They weaved through the crowd to the courtyard—where the real spectacle awaited.
---
The Courtyard Carnival
Fairy‑light canopies stretched overhead, casting a soft glow across picnic blankets, food stalls, and game booths. A portable stereo blasted upbeat K‑pop remixes. The drama club had painted a life‑sized cardboard cutout of Hae‑won in a superhero cape, complete with speech bubble: "Invincible because I bloom."
Min‑ji hovered by the "Flower Crown Station," arms crossed so tightly her knuckles were white. The station itself was a riot of pastel blooms and wire frames; students created flower crowns to wear in solidarity with Hae‑won. Min‑ji scoffed until a freshman approached, timidly asked, "Can I make a crown for her?" She bristled—and that's when Eun‑sae swooped in.
"Min‑ji, darling—surely you'd want to support the most… floreal event of the year?" Eun‑sae cooed, handing over wire. "Here, think pink."
Min‑ji hesitated, glared at Hae‑won's laughing friends, then took the materials in a hail‑Mary attempt to sabotage: she wove in wilted petals from an earlier bouquet. But Joon‑seok noticed and swapped out the bad flowers with fresh ones before Hae‑won's crown was finished. When Hae‑won put it on, it sat perfectly—vibrant and fragrant—while Min‑ji's crown drooped sadly on the table.
Watching the meltdown unravel across messages on JHighGossip—"Did Min‑ji just get #FloralFail'd?"—students burst into laughter. Min‑ji's cheeks flamed red; she stormed off, leaving behind a scattering of drooping petals.
---
Next, the "Wheel of Wishes" spun into action. Concentric circles of fortune told secrets: "Compliment Hae‑won," "Sing a love song," "Dance the Cherry‑Blossom Jig," "Prank Min‑ji," and at the center, the coveted "Secret Kiss" token.
One by one, students took turns spinning—cheering at daft dares, groaning at sticky situations, erupting when someone landed on "Prank Min‑ji" (which triggered a foam‑filled water gun squirting in her direction). When Eun‑sae spun the wheel and hit "Dance the Cherry‑Blossom Jig," she grabbed Hae‑won's hand and dragged her center‑stage. Before she knew it, Hae‑won was shimmying to a ridiculously choreographed routine, arms flailing and skirt twirling—while Min‑ji watched from the sidelines, jaw on the ground.
Even Ji‑hoon couldn't suppress a laugh as he filmed her twirls for later blackmail—er, cherished memories.
The final spin was Ji‑hoon's. He narrowed his eyes theatrically, sent the wheel clacking—then cheered: "Secret Kiss!"
Gasps. Phone flashes. Hae‑won's face turned strawberry‑milk pink.
He stood up, extended a hand. "Come here."
She rose, legs shaking, and joined him. He took her hand, pulled her close, and kissed her—just above her lips, soft and teasing. The courtyard exploded in cheers. Someone blasted confetti cannons. Fireworks crackled overhead (courtesy of the school fireworks club, which Ji‑hoon had discreetly tipped off). For a heartbeat, Hae‑won felt weightless: all eyes on her, but not in fear—an adoring, joyous crowd.
---
Midday Mayhem on the App
In the middle of the celebration, Hae‑won's phone buzzed endlessly. JHighGossip had posted highlights:
> "SECRET KISS LIVE: BLOOM BASH GOES WILD!
Views: 1.2 M — Comments: 150K — Likes: 450K
Comments ranged from "OMG SHIPPING!" to "Protect them at all costs!" to Min‑ji's lone defiant post: "Such a show. Still can't believe people fall for this gimmick." It was buried beneath heartfelt tributes: "Hae‑won taught us that you can't stop a flower from blooming," "She survived everything—bullies, family, gossip—and now she blooms with us."
Hae‑won swallowed hard. The outpouring of support felt almost more overwhelming than the teasing she'd faced months ago. But as she looked at Ji‑hoon—laughing, triumphant, her hand warm in his—she realized that the truest bloom came from the strength to keep growing, no matter the storm.
Min‑ji reappeared at lunchtime, face pale and determined. She marched toward the DJ booth, grabbed the microphone, and called for attention. The music ground to a halt; a hush fell. Even the squirrels in the courtyard paused mid‑scamper.
"I have an announcement," Min‑ji began, voice shaking but loud enough for every phone to capture. "These celebrations—this circus—is a distraction. Hae‑won is using Ji‑hoon for attention."
A ripple of doubt spread—just for a second—until Joon‑seok stepped forward, brandishing a fresh latte. "And you're the authority on sincerity?" he retorted, voice dripping sarcasm. He offered Min‑ji the latte. She scowled, rejected it.
Tae‑woo piped up: "Don't you have better things to do than police happiness?" Even the chemistry monitor Seo‑hyun and the rugby captain Min‑joon joined in, voicing support for Hae‑won.
Min‑ji's shoulders slumped. She glared at Hae‑won—who simply smiled and nodded once, small and genuine. In that nod was forgiveness, strength, and the courage to keep dancing despite the rain.
As the afternoon sun dipped low, Ji‑hoon led Hae‑won backstage behind the DJ booth. The stage lights glowed soft pink. On a small table lay one final gift: a handcrafted music box engraved with cherry‑blossom petals. Joon‑seok, Eun‑sae, and Tae‑woo crowded behind them, all eyes shining.
Ji‑hoon opened the lid. A tinkling melody—their melody, the one they'd joked about humming on long walks—drifted out. Inside, a miniature figurine of a girl and boy dancing beneath a cherry tree spun slowly.
Hae‑won's breath caught. She reached out, traced pale fingers over the petals. "It's perfect."
He slipped an arm around her. "Just like you."
Behind them, the courtyard erupted in one final cheer. Fireworks bloomed overhead, mirroring the petals carved on the music box. The sky shimmered pink and gold; the world felt impossibly large—and yet, entirely theirs.
As they stood there, fingers intertwined, Hae‑won realized this wasn't just a chapter in her life. It was the beginning of her own legend. The Bloom Bash was over—but her story was only getting started.