DFLT 5

A foolish thought suddenly popped into his head, wondering if taking milk thistle would actually make him feel better, even though it bruised his pride. Even if he was just a passing extra in the story, he wanted to show a better version of himself to the person he liked. As he carefully placed the supplements in his drawer, a light blinked on the desk phone. It was an intercom call from Heonyoung’s office.

—Ji Yeonoh, come in.

“Yes, Executive Director.”

Yeonoh grabbed a notebook and pen and entered the office.

“What’s the matter?”

“Where’s the lunch meeting today?”

He had definitely listed the schedule, including lunch, in the car, but had Heonyoung already forgotten?

“You’re scheduled to meet CEO Kim Changhee at a Japanese restaurant in Hannam-dong regarding the startup acquisition.”

“Alright.”

Heonyoung responded curtly, as if he wasn’t interested in the fact or had already known it. Before Yeonoh could tilt his head in confusion, Heonyoung’s brief instructions followed, and Yeonoh scribbled down as much as he could to avoid missing anything.

“The delivery.”

“Sorry? You mean the quick delivery from earlier?”

What kind of question was this out of the blue? When Yeonoh asked in a puzzled tone, Heonyoung, who had been focused on documents, lifted his head to look at him.

“If it wasn’t for me, did you call a delivery to the company for personal reasons? In a company sensitive to internal security?”

Yeonoh hadn’t ordered the delivery himself, but Heonyoung probably wasn’t interested in such trivial explanations. What Heonyoung needed was a straightforward response.

“…I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

A clean apology and a promise to improve. Those two sentences were enough.

“Alright.”

Heonyoung, who didn’t seem interested in digging further into the matter, lowered his head back to his documents. His fountain pen scratched the paper, tracing curves. Despite the indifference of the action, the signature it produced was excessively elegant. Yeonoh was staring, almost entranced, at the ink drying on Heonyoung’s cursive signature when—

“So, who sent it?”

“Sorry?”

Seo Heonyoung had never shown interest in Yeonoh’s personal matters before. This was a rule that applied to all employees, not just Yeonoh.

“So you can answer if the security team asks.”

It was true that as long as visitor information was properly recorded in the lobby, receiving deliveries in the office was permitted, so it was uncertain whether the security team would actually ask about it. Still, it was a valid point. Nodding inwardly, Yeonoh answered.

“It was sent by Executive Director Doh Sehyun.”

At that, Seo Heonyoung, who had been engrossed in reviewing documents, looked up at Yeonoh again.

“You didn’t order it, and Doh Sehyun sent it?”

“Yes.”

“What did she send?”

“…Um, she sent supplements released by JM Medio.”

Heonyoung’s expression seemed to ask, “Why would she do that?” but then he let out a short “Ah,” as if recalling yesterday’s conversation. For Yeonoh, it was a relief. He narrowly avoided having to repeat the snide mockery Doh Sehyun had thrown at his face.

Just as Yeonoh moved his lips to say he’d leave now—

“She’s got a nasty streak, that Doh Sehyun.”

Yeonoh was dumbfounded. It seemed like Heonyoung meant it as some sort of consolation, but unfortunately, it wasn’t comforting at all. It felt like Heonyoung was agreeing with Doh Sehyun’s jab about Yeonoh looking worn out.

He couldn’t laugh or cry about it. What kind of response was he supposed to give? Yeonoh hesitated for a moment.

“Thanks for the consolation”? That would be like declaring war on Doh Sehyun.

“No, it’s not like that”? That would be tantamount to challenging Seo Heonyoung.

“…I’ll take my leave now.”

It was a situation ripe for a verbal misstep. So, he chose to disappear instead.

He’d discovered yet another thing lacking in Seo Heonyoung, whom he’d thought was highly socially adept: the ability to offer empathy with slightly off-target attempts at consolation. Yeonoh almost felt honored by Heonyoung’s generosity in offering such a half-hearted attempt at comfort.

…Perhaps because of that not-quite-consoling consolation, the oddly sour mood he’d been in until just moments ago seemed to have strangely lifted.

And so, the day of the Saturday appointment arrived.

“Phew… Which one’s better?”

Even though it wasn’t an occasion for him, Yeonoh found himself holding up one shirt after another to his body, searching for the one that suited him best. Normally, he’d just grab whatever was at hand for work, but today, he didn’t want to do that.

Of course, it wasn’t about wanting to look good in front of Seo Heonyoung. It was the bare minimum effort to avoid looking pathetic between two prestigious families. Besides, since he was accompanying Heonyoung as his secretary, his appearance would reflect on TG’s image, and he didn’t want to create an embarrassing situation.

After choosing a decent shirt and putting on the cleanest-looking suit jacket, Yeonoh stood in front of the mirror and muttered dejectedly.

“What’s the point? They all look the same.”

Since he wasn’t particularly interested in fashion, his wardrobe was filled with similar clothes, and he belatedly realized that no matter how much he dressed up, it was all the same.

“No, they say fashion is about confidence.”

He’d taken the milk thistle and slept well, so his complexion seemed a bit brighter. It might be an illusion, but believing it would give him confidence.

“…What are you doing, Ji Yeonoh?”

Getting all worked up over accompanying his unrequited crush of a boss to a dinner with a potential marriage partner? As reality hit him like a bursting soap bubble, a sigh escaped Yeonoh’s lips with a “Pfft…” Time to snap out of it. Yeonoh grabbed Heonyoung’s car keys and left the room.

“I’m heading out.”

“Hyung! It’s Saturday!”

Seowon, watching TV in the living room, shouted urgently as Yeonoh, dressed for work, left the house.

“I know, it’s special overtime today.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. They’re total scumbags.”

“They’re paying overtime.”

“Make lots of money!”

Yeonoh snorted at Seowon, who had been indignant about “scumbags” but switched gears at the mention of overtime pay, and put on his shoes.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for Heonyoung, Yeonoh’s eyes were vacant. Working overtime on a weekend to assist his unrequited crush at a marriage meeting? Another wave of reality hit him, and a hollow laugh escaped him.

Then, Seo Heonyoung appeared in the distance, walking toward him. He was dressed impeccably for the occasion. It wasn’t much different from his usual suit, but his neatly combed hair gave off a slightly different vibe. Yeonoh’s heart trembled at this glimpse of Seo Heonyoung’s private, flawless appearance.

“Good morning, Executive Director.”

“You’re working hard on a weekend.”

“It’s nothing.”

Seo Heonyoung didn’t add anything further, and Yeonoh headed straight for the destination programmed into the navigation.

The Heritage Cheongdam. A secretive lounge where only a select few of Korea’s old money were invited as members. Past a hall filled with renowned domestic and international artworks, there were private rooms assigned to each member. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that most political and business collusions began here.

After thorough security checks, security stickers were placed on the camera lenses and microphones of their phones. This was to prevent any photography of artworks or members or the leakage of conversations held here. Phone calls were also strictly prohibited in this space.

This was the one place in Korea where “Do you know who I am?” wouldn’t work. Even Yeonoh and Heonyoung had stickers placed on their phones before entering. The security staff gave Yeonoh, a beta, slightly suspicious looks during the search.

“Wait here.”

Heonyoung said to Yeonoh, leaving him in the hall filled with paintings.

“Here?”

Heonyoung, looking at Yeonoh’s slightly flustered expression, pulled a wallet from his jacket’s inner pocket. Handing over a sleek black metal card, he gestured with his chin toward the end of the corridor.

“Get some coffee or something. Come to the last room in about 30 minutes.”

“Yes, understood.”

At Yeonoh’s response, Heonyoung walked away through the hall without delay. As Yeonoh watched him disappear, a pang of bitterness tugged at his chest. He wasn’t someone to hold onto, so why did he feel this foolish lingering attachment? He had no right to feel this way.

In truth, Yeonoh hadn’t even known a place like this existed in Korea. The only time he briefly sensed the presence of wealth in his routine of home and work was at Heonyoung’s house. But given Heonyoung’s personality, he didn’t live surrounded by flashy possessions. Quite the opposite, in fact. Yet even the smallest items in his home exuded luxury. In the world built by Seo Heonyoung’s wealth, this must be everyday life.

“…Eek.”

Yeonoh wandered the vast hall, eagerly admiring the paintings. One piece was worth a staggering 50 million won. With that kind of money, his family of three wouldn’t have to worry about finances. Seowon could cover tuition without needing a part-time job.

How pathetic, so pathetic. He was utterly out of place in a setting like this. Shaking his head to brush off the thought, Yeonoh slowly walked to the next artwork. He checked the time intermittently. Since Heonyoung had told him to come in 30 minutes, he planned to head over in about 15 minutes.