Chapter 1: Lost
London looked prettier in movies.
That was Hannah Bennett’s first thought as freezing rain soaked through the sleeves of her hoodie while she stood completely lost outside an underground station she couldn’t pronounce.
The city blurred around her in streaks of red bus lights, umbrellas, and impatient footsteps. Everyone moved quickly here, like they already belonged somewhere. Meanwhile, Hannah stood under the flickering station sign with a dying phone in one hand and a crumpled map in the other, wondering how exactly she had managed to get herself stranded on her fourth night in London.
“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, pushing wet strands of hair away from her face.
Somewhere in Australia, her mother was probably sleeping peacefully under warm weather while Hannah slowly froze to death in a city that smelled like rain and car smoke.
The worst part?
She had only gotten lost because she’d been distracted watching edits of her favorite K-drama couple on the train.
Honestly, pathetic.
A sharp gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver violently. Her phone screen blinked once before going black entirely.
“No, no, no— seriously?”
Dead.
Hannah stared at the reflection of her own horrified face on the dark screen before letting out a quiet groan.
This was exactly the kind of situation female leads in dramas always found themselves in before meeting the love of their lives.
Unfortunately, Hannah Bennett was not a drama lead.
She was just cold, exhausted, and one mental breakdown away from crying in public.
Rain poured harder.
People brushed past her without looking twice, coats swaying against the storm as traffic hummed nearby. The city suddenly felt too large, too unfamiliar. Back home, everything had always felt warm and predictable. Here, even the streets seemed intimidating.
She exhaled shakily and glanced around again.
That was when she saw it.
A small convenience store tucked between two brick buildings across the street, glowing softly against the darkness outside.
Its Korean sign flickered faintly above the windows.
Warm light spilled onto the pavement.
Without thinking twice, Hannah hurried across the street through the rain, nearly slipping on the wet sidewalk before pushing the door open.
A small bell chimed overhead.
Warmth hit her instantly.
The store smelled faintly like ramen broth and coffee. Shelves packed with colorful snacks lined the narrow aisles while quiet Korean music played somewhere in the background.
For the first time all night, Hannah felt herself breathe properly.
“Oh my God,” she whispered under her breath. “I think I just entered heaven.”
“You’re dripping on the floor.”
The voice startled her.
Hannah looked up too quickly.
A guy sat behind the counter near the back of the store, one arm resting lazily against a notebook while headphones hung around his neck. A pencil spun absentmindedly between his fingers.
He looked around her age. Maybe older.
Dark hair fell messily across his forehead, slightly damp like he’d also come in from the rain earlier. He wore a black hoodie beneath a long grey coat, sleeves pushed carelessly to his elbows.
And annoyingly enough, he was unfairly attractive.
No.
Attractive wasn’t even the right word.
He looked like the type of person artists would paint dramatically during heartbreak.
Hannah blinked.
Then realized she was still standing in a puddle near the entrance.
“Oh— right. Sorry.”
The guy gave a small nod before looking back down at the notebook in front of him.
That should’ve been the end of the interaction.
Instead, Hannah kept staring.
Not obviously, hopefully.
There was something strangely calm about him despite the chaos outside. While London felt loud and cold and unfamiliar, he looked entirely untouched by it all.
The pencil moved quickly across the page beneath his hand.
Sketching.
Architecture sketches, Hannah realized after squinting slightly.
Clean lines. Buildings. Windows.
Pretty hands too.
Stop it, Hannah.
She quickly turned away before she embarrassed herself further and wandered toward the food aisle instead.
Instant ramen cups filled nearly an entire shelf. Most of the labels were written in Korean, though a few had English translations underneath.
Hannah crouched slightly, studying them with narrowed eyes.
She recognized some names from mukbang videos online.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself seriously. “This is my moment.”
A few minutes later, she approached the counter holding two ramen cups and a bottled drink she absolutely did not need.
The guy finally looked up again.
Up close, he somehow looked worse for her sanity.
Sharp jawline. Tired eyes. Silver rings on his fingers.
And there it was.
That tiny almost-recognition in his expression.
He knew exactly what she was about to do.
Hannah ignored it.
She placed the ramen carefully on the counter before attempting the Korean pronunciation she’d practiced a hundred times online.
It came out horrifically wrong.
Silence.
A beat later, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Not laughing exactly.
Which somehow felt worse.
Heat rushed to Hannah’s face instantly.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face. “Please pretend that never happened.”
To her surprise, he quietly turned one of the ramen cups toward her.
“You switched the pronunciation,” he said calmly. “But close enough.”
His voice was softer than she expected.
British accent. But not entirely.
There was something else beneath it.
Hannah lowered her hands slowly.
“You understood what I meant?”
“Barely.”
She stared at him for a second before laughing despite herself.
And just like that, some of the loneliness loosened slightly inside her chest.
The guy scanned the items casually before glancing toward her again.
“You’re not from here.”
“Australia,” Hannah admitted. “I moved here for university.”
“Recently?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You look terrified.”
That made her laugh again.
“Okay, rude.”
A small smile appeared briefly on his face this time.
Tiny. Quick. But enough to completely change his expression.
Dangerous, honestly.
Rain hammered softly against the windows behind her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he noticed the dead phone in her hand.
“You’re lost.”
It wasn’t a question.
Hannah sighed dramatically.
“Very.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair before pulling one headphone fully away from his neck.
“What station were you trying to get to?”
She told him.
His eyebrows lifted immediately.
“You took the wrong train.”
“I figured that out eventually.”
Another almost-smile.
Then, after a short pause, he stood up.
Tall.
Very tall.
Hannah suddenly regretted every ugly thing she’d ever done in her entire life.
“I finish in ten minutes,” he said, grabbing his coat from nearby. “I’ll walk you there.”
Hannah blinked.
“What?”
“You’ll get lost again otherwise.”
There was no arrogance in the statement. Just fact.
And somehow that made her trust him immediately.
Outside, London still looked cold.
Still unfamiliar.
Still huge.
But standing inside the tiny warmth of that convenience store, watching a stranger pull on his coat beneath soft fluorescent lights, Hannah felt something shift quietly inside her chest.
Like maybe getting lost tonight hadn’t been the worst thing after all.
