7MoH 1.5

Suzy suggested buying a suit for the occasion. Jeong-in hesitated, wondering if it might be better to just rent a tuxedo from a rental shop, still holding onto hopes for further growth. But in the end, he dutifully followed Suzy to a clothing store in the mall and purchased something suitable. Of course, the clothes were paid for with Steven’s card.

Skipping the tie, he buttoned up a crisp white Oxford shirt all the way to the top. Suzy had Jeong-in, who was wearing contact lenses instead of his usual glasses for once, sit in a dining chair and began styling his hair.

“Mom, don’t put too much product in my hair. It feels stuffy.”

“Okay. Just trust me.”

Suzy swept Jeong-in’s hair slightly back so that half his forehead showed, and sprayed it to keep it in place.

“My goodness, whose son are you? You look so handsome.”

Suzy’s eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked at Jeong-in standing up. Not satisfied with just looking, she brought out her phone and started taking pictures.

“You might not know anyone there and get bored, so why don’t you take your Nintendo?”

“I’ll bring my bag. I need to study.”

Americans took parties seriously, and these kinds of events often started in the early evening and continued until late at night. Jeong-in slung his school bag full of workbooks over his shoulder. It was obvious the party would be crowded enough that no one would mind if he sat in a corner reading or solving math problems.

Suzy nodded with satisfaction as she looked at Jeong-in.

“With the bag, you look just like a working professional. Like someone talented in tech.”

To Suzy, her precious son just looked handsome and stylish.

Just then, a car horn sounded outside.

“Oh? Looks like he’s here.”

Suzy stretched her neck to look out the window. Steven’s old BMW was parked in front of the house.

Suzy, who had come to the front door to see him off, said in a voice tinged with subtle affection and concern,

“Have a good time, Jeong-in.”

“I will, Mom.”

Jeong-in gave Suzy a light kiss on the cheek before getting into the passenger seat of Steven’s car.

Steven, sitting in the driver’s seat with a somewhat anxious expression, gave a slight nod to greet Suzy through the window, then looked at Jeong-in.

“Well, shall we go?”

“Yes.”

Jeong-in chuckled when he saw the address that Steven had entered into the navigation system.

[1 Crestview Drive, Bellacove]

“The number ‘1’ at the beginning indicated it was the first house on the street, symbolizing the residence with the best location and prestige. In wealthy areas, the number 1 is often assigned to homes with the highest status or symbolic importance. Even just the address revealed the Prescott family’s status and powerful presence.

The car drove along Bellevue Boulevard, passed through Cliff Drive, and turned onto Crestview Drive, Bellacove’s most affluent neighborhood.

“Unbelievable…”

Jeong-in quietly gasped at the mansion before him.

The estate was positioned on a hill, overlooking the road and surroundings below. In front of the mansion was a wide circular driveway, with an elegant fountain at its center, spraying water in classical yet sophisticated patterns. Along the driveway, meticulously trimmed trees and vibrant flowers were planted, making even the drive itself look like a small garden.

Majestic marble columns stood at the entrance of the mansion, and each imposing stone wall and arched window resembled a work of art. The setting sun bathed the mansion in warm golden light, adding a mysterious and magnificent atmosphere like an ancient castle.

Cars lined up one after another, dropping off guests before moving to the parking area. Some drove up themselves and handed their keys to the valet staff waiting in front.

Jeong-in was automatically intimidated by the sight of people in tuxedos and evening dresses ascending the carpeted stairs in succession.

He swallowed hard. He wasn’t the only one nervous—Steven was also taking deep breaths, his chest rising visibly. The two briefly made eye contact and nodded at each other as if making a promise.

“Well, I’m counting on you, Jeong-in.”

“Don’t get nervous and do this properly. My tuition depends on it.”

“Yes! I’ll do my best!”

With determined expressions, Steven and Jeong-in got out of the car. Then they silently climbed the red-carpeted stairs leading to the mansion.

The moment they entered, both were overwhelmed. The enormous entrance hall was decorated with grand columns and marble, with a massive chandelier spreading light from the ceiling.

At the end of a corridor lined with antique frames, security guards with metal detectors were performing light body checks on guests, like at an airport.

Jeong-in was stopped. A security guard in a black suit informed him that bags couldn’t be brought in and offered to store it in the coat room.

The fact that there was a dedicated space just for storing coats inside the house struck him as fascinating.

“You go ahead. I’ll join you after using the restroom.”

Unable to muster the courage to enter right away, Jeong-in made an excuse about the bathroom. Steven nodded and disappeared into the party venue.

Left alone, Jeong-in walked slowly down the corridor. This ornate place seemed like a completely different world.

Just as he was turning a corner, a woman suddenly appeared and staggered, losing her balance. Her foot seemed to slip, and she was about to fall face forward.

The floor was cold, hard marble, and right beside it was a console with a sharp protruding edge. Without time to think, Jeong-in instinctively lunged forward.

With a dull thud, Jeong-in fell to the floor, almost crushed beneath her. A sharp pain shot up his tailbone, but he didn’t seem to be injured.

Carefully, Jeong-in supported the woman and helped her up. Thanks to him absorbing most of the impact, she appeared unharmed.

“Are you okay?”

The brown-haired woman in a flowing burgundy silk dress was a beauty whose age was hard to determine. She looked like she could be in her early to mid-thirties, yet also possessed the mature beauty of someone in her forties.

A strong scent of wine wafted from her. When had the party started that someone was already this drunk?

The woman, having regained her balance, turned her gaze to Jeong-in’s face.

“Thanks. You can’t be a guest. Working part-time?”

Her assumption that he couldn’t be a guest had some logic to it. From the mansion’s front door until now, he hadn’t seen a single person of color, including the security guards.

People here practiced racial discrimination as naturally as breathing, though not overtly. The problem was that they didn’t even recognize it as discrimination.

“Take me to that room over there.”

The woman leaned languidly on Jeong-in’s arm and pointed somewhere. The place they reached after he supported her was a stately library straight out of a movie. Mahogany bookshelves filled the walls, and a buffalo leather sofa sat by the window, which was draped with jacquard curtains.

The woman plopped down on the sofa and pressed her temples as if suffering from a headache.

“Would you like me to bring you some water?”

Concerned about leaving her alone, Jeong-in offered, and the woman smiled, stretching her lips painted with a coral-colored lipstick.

“Chivalry is still alive. I’m fine, you can go now.”

Jeong-in nodded and quietly left the room, rubbing his sore tailbone. In his haste, he failed to notice the Prescott family portrait hanging on the library wall.

Entering the party venue, Jeong-in quickly spotted Steven, who was anxiously looking around. As soon as Steven saw Jeong-in, he rushed over with a relieved expression and scolded him.

“Where have you been!”

“I told you I was going to the bathroom.”

Steven grabbed Jeong-in’s arm and pulled him deeper into the party. Under enormous chandeliers, people in glamorous dresses and tuxedos were laughing, chatting, and holding sparkling champagne glasses. It was like a scene recreated from “The Great Gatsby.”

“There, he’s over there.”

Steven led Jeong-in toward a tall, imposing man with golden hair wearing a black tuxedo. Even from behind, Jeong-in could intuitively tell who he was.

“Ahem…”

Lacking the courage to call out to the man who was conversing with others, Steven cleared his throat a couple of times with his fist in front of his mouth. The man finished his conversation, turned around, and at that moment, Jeong-in held his breath.

The first thing he noticed was the blue-gray eyes. Cold and sharp like glaciers, those piercing eyes that seemed to see through everything were filled with solemnity and authority. They were similar to Chase Prescott’s eyes but slightly colder.

Dimples formed on his casually smiling face, and even the wrinkles around his eyes seemed attractive. Appearing to be in his late forties, he was a handsome man whose masculinity and sophistication had matured with time.

Jeong-in could be certain. Twenty years ago, this man would have stood exactly where Chase Prescott now stood. Chase’s throne had been inherited from this man.

Dominic Prescott cast an indifferent glance as if looking at a passerby. The burden of appealing for his attention always fell to the other person.

“Hello, sir. We met at the country club. I’m Steven Fletcher, who runs a used car dealership.”

Dominic Prescott narrowed his eyes as if trying to recall. Steven then pushed Jeong-in forward, adding as if providing a hint:

“This is my son, Jay. He attends Wincrest High.”

“Ah.”

Dominic Prescott nodded slightly, as if only now remembering. His blue eyes, directed at Jeong-in, couldn’t hide a sense of unexpected surprise. Steven hastily continued.

“I married this boy’s mother.”

“…I see.”

“Jeong-in, say hello. This is Mr. Dominic Prescott.”

“Hello.”

“Young Mr. Fletcher.”

A momentary look of discomfort crossed Dominic’s face as he acknowledged the greeting with a slight nod. He appeared to be the archetype of a generational Republican—the kind who would advocate for gun ownership, hold negative views on immigrants, and strongly support traditional values and conservative economic policies—the epitome of the privileged class.

“Despite appearances, he’s an excellent student. He’s aiming for Harvard.”

Steven’s voice carried pride in Jeong-in. For the first time, interest flickered in Dominic’s eyes. Perhaps this was why Asian students endured the stereotype of overachievement while still trying their best—because only then could they stand alongside people like these.

“Is that so? Then you might end up at the same school as Chase.”

“Is young Mr. Prescott also applying to Harvard?” 

Steven asked with a slightly surprised expression.

“The counselor says his grades are sufficient and suggested he try early application next semester.”

“Perhaps you’re considering the athletic route?”

“Hardly. My father and I both majored in economics, so Chase will naturally follow that path.”

A momentary crack appeared in Jeong-in’s previously calm expression. His head felt dizzy, and his heart beat in complex turmoil.

Grades are sufficient? That Chase Prescott? How?

He had thought Chase was in Honors English Composition simply because he happened to be good at one subject by chance. Everyone has one or two subjects they excel at. But he’s applying to Harvard? And his grades are good enough to be recommended for early application?

Jeong-in’s mind was instantly filled with confusion. Chase was an athlete. A star player on the football team. He attended almost every party and was rumored to be with countless girls.

How could such a Chase Prescott have grades sufficient for Harvard in a regular major? While I’m working myself to death, even bringing books to parties, and still unsure if I’ll make it?

Jeong-in felt as if everything he had believed in was being shaken. It was like the ground beneath his feet was cracking.

“Ah, here he comes now.”

Following Dominic Prescott’s gaze, Jeong-in saw Chase Prescott walking toward them.

The black tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his tall frame, fit him as if he had been born wearing it. His golden hair, slightly disheveled with a strand or two falling onto his forehead, sparkled in the soft lighting. He looked like a Hollywood actor who had just walked off a movie set.

Gazes from people of all ages and genders converged on Chase. Yet he seemed unfazed, as if experiencing something entirely ordinary.

Finally approaching with leisurely steps, he stood beside Dominic. With two tall men of remarkable presence standing side by side, the very air around them seemed to settle heavily.

“Young Mr. Prescott. Pleased to meet you. I’m Steven Fletcher.”

“Chase Prescott.”

As Steven extended his hand, Chase naturally took it and shook it. His gaze then shifted to Jeong-in.

“I hear you attend the same school.”

At Dominic’s words, Chase displayed a smooth smile and extended his hand toward Jeong-in.

“If someone this cute was at our school, I couldn’t possibly not know about it. Are you a transfer student? Nice to meet you.”

Jeong-in couldn’t bring himself to take the outstretched hand.

Chase’s words made his heart sink. The comment about being “cute” didn’t even register. What mattered was what followed.

What? Nice to meet you?

“You go to Wincrest? But why haven’t I seen you at school even once?”

Jeong-in couldn’t believe that Chase didn’t know him at all. He could only stare blankly at Chase, finding it difficult to even open his mouth.

Chase awkwardly withdrew his hand and continued his questions.

“Are you a freshman? Or a sophomore?”

“I was told you’re in the same grade. You don’t know him?”

At Dominic’s words, Chase tilted his head slightly as if he genuinely didn’t know. Steven’s face showed disappointment—he had thought the two would at least recognize each other.

Meanwhile, something hot was rising within Jeong-in. They had been in the same class during freshman year, and this year they were taking Honors English Composition together. Especially in English Composition, he sat very close to Chase. They had even spoken several times.

Until now, Jeong-in had been comfortable with people treating him like he was invisible. He truly believed it was better to go his own way quietly, without drawing attention.

But facing the fact that Chase Prescott couldn’t even remember him brought a strange pain. An indescribable anger and sadness intersected.

Jeong-in couldn’t stand there any longer. With an overwhelming feeling, he just wanted to escape.

“…Excuse me. Please continue your conversation comfortably.”

Leaving this brief, trembling greeting, Jeong-in quickly turned away. The noise of the party scattered dully around his ears.

Jeong-in immediately went to the coat room to retrieve his bag. He thought it would be better to wait for Steven in the car outside.

However, the moment he held his bag, he realized he didn’t have the car keys. But he didn’t want to return to the party either.

“Haah…”

With a deep, heavy sigh, Jeong-in began walking down the corridor in search of a place to stay. The mansion was excessively large and complex—it would be easy to get lost.