MDQ Ch 10

At a Japanese-style room bar near the company, I sat in a two-person room drinking with Park Chungrim.

Looking worriedly at me, who was silently downing glass after glass, Park Chungrim spoke.

“Did something upset you today? You seem to be drinking too fast right from the start.”

Normally, I would have answered that nothing was wrong. But maybe because I really had been drinking too fast, as Park Chungrim said, the truth slipped out a little too easily.

“Yeah… something upset me.”

I vaguely talked about what happened at D company’s filming site. Only up to the part where Seo Seoho pushed the blame onto me because he was upset about something.

I didn’t say anything about him treating me like a whore, or the verbal abuse related to my work as a manager.

Still, maybe because I’d been with these boys for a long time, I didn’t want them to be judged or pointed at by others.

Even after being severely insulted, here I was, worried that others might curse Seoho. Even if I hated myself for being such a pushover, I couldn’t help it.

Hearing my complaints, Park Chungrim’s expression turned strange. Then he refilled my empty glass.

“That must have been really hard for you.”

The short words of comfort carried genuine sincerity. At least Park Chungrim seemed to care about me from the heart.

It was the understanding of just one person. But even that, I desperately needed so much that it made my chest ache.

Yes, all I wanted was something this small, and yet why did the members only torment me?

“I’ll never tell anyone else, so if you ever feel frustrated again, talk to me. I’ll listen.”

“Thank you.”

At that moment, Park Chungrim brought up something strange.

“But I don’t think those kids actually hate you.”

“Huh? If they don’t hate me, then why do they keep tormenting me?”

“Well, it’s kind of like little kids. Sometimes they tease more because they like you… And they really are just kids.”

“Is that it?”

But since I had never once felt that they liked me, it wasn’t easy to agree.

“Hyunseok-ssi, do you know something?”

“What?”

“That’s why you stand out even more among those still wet-behind-the-ears kids. At first, I really thought you were a rookie actor.”

“You’re just saying that to comfort me, right? Thanks to you, Chungrim-ssi, I feel much lighter.”

“I mean it.”

That gaze, burning with some kind of heat, stabbed down into my face—the gaze that I had always found a little overwhelming.

“I…”

I fiddled with my glass, carefully choosing my words.

It wasn’t even like I had been confessed to, yet somehow, I felt like I too had to bare my true feelings.

And absurdly, in that moment, I thought of Jung Yohan. That Jung Yohan, who was occasionally kind. His beautiful face. The breaths we had shared.

After losing my brother, I thought I would never love anyone again for the rest of my life—yet he appeared before me like a first love.

Maybe I had always liked him, but simply refused to admit it.

“Chungrim-ssi, I…”

But I couldn’t finish. The phone in my pocket had been vibrating nonstop.

“I’m sorry, just a second.”

I pulled out my phone. Immediately, a familiar name appeared across the screen.

‘Jung Yohan’

I had just been thinking of him—how strange that he would call at this very moment.

He was probably calling because it was late and I hadn’t returned to the dorm. He just wanted to ask where I was.

But while I hesitated, the call ended. As expected, he didn’t call again.

I didn’t think he was that curious about my whereabouts, not enough to call repeatedly.

“Yohan’s calling.”

“See? Didn’t I tell you? They don’t hate you.”

“Maybe he’s just calling because he has something for me to do. I’ll call him back.”

Just as I was about to redial, Park Chungrim stopped me.

“No matter how much you’re their manager, you don’t need to wait on them at 1 a.m. Don’t do it.”

“…”

Hearing it, I realized he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I had gotten so used to being treated like a slave that I thought this kind of thing was natural.

“And if he really did call you at 1 a.m. because he had something for you to do…” Stopping there, Park Chungrim placed his hand over mine, which was resting carelessly on the table. His hand was burning hot. “Tell me right away. I’ll drill some sense into them.”

I pulled my hand out of Park Chungrim’s grasp and forced an awkward smile.

“Thank you, even just for saying that.”

A flicker of disappointment passed quickly over Park Chungrim’s face before vanishing.

He probably wished I had answered differently—something weak, like saying I would lean on him.

“Instead of this, why don’t you try writing lyrics for another artist? That way… You could quit being a manager and build a career as a lyricist.”

“I’ve thought about it once or twice. But writing for another artist… I’d have to leave the company first.”

When the first song I wrote hit big, the CEO called me in for a talk.

“I’ll make sure you get a lot of the royalties, so don’t write for any other artists. Got it, Chief Lee?”

Of course, he didn’t just say it—he put it in a contract. As long as I worked for this company, I was prohibited from writing for other artists.

“Our CEO is really… That’s kind of awful, you know. You should just quit. Cleaning up after those kids is too much for you.”

“It’s not too much…”

But yeah, it was hard. In a small voice, I admitted my honest feelings.

“Even if things don’t work out right away as a lyricist, I’ll help you. My contract is ending soon too, and I’m planning to leave the company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I’ll introduce you to that lyricist you said you liked most.”

The one whose lyrics Park Saebit had studied, and the one I admired the most.

It seemed Park Chungrim knew that person. Both of them were top of the industry, so it made sense that they would at least know of each other.

“You should leave the company, meet people, and release songs under your own name.”

Of course, that was what I wanted. I just hadn’t had the courage.

“I think you’ve already proven you can stand on your own.”

Could I really live independently? The question weighed heavily, and I couldn’t accept Park Chungrim’s certainty.

“Thanks for seeing me that way.”

“When you’re sure about it, contact me.”

“Okay.”

“Well then, shall we toast again?”

Park Chungrim raised his glass and clinked it against mine as if saying it was time to drop the gloomy talk.

* * *

It was a little past 3 a.m. by the time I got back to the dorm. The members were probably all asleep.

After passing through the darkened living room, I stepped into my room.

That was when I noticed a shadowy figure in the darkness.

That pitch-black figure was sitting on my bed like wax. Shocked, I covered my mouth to stifle the scream that almost burst out.

For a second, I thought maybe I was seeing a ghost because of the alcohol—but no, it was definitely a person. Someone I knew very well.

“Yohan?”

At my call, Jung Yohan raised the head that had been hanging low.

“Where did you go?”

Jung Yohan’s voice sounded lower than usual. Not only his voice, but even his gaze was chillingly cold.

I had done nothing wrong, yet I felt like a thief caught red-handed. Frozen in place, I confessed, “I had dinner plans.”

“With who?”

“Chungrim-ssi. About your new song…”

Only then did it hit me that we hadn’t talked about the new song at all.

All I had done was unload my grievances, leaving me embarrassed in hindsight.

“Our album promotions just ended yesterday, and you’re already talking about a new song?”

“Well, even if it’s not right away, there’s no harm in preparing in advance for the next one, right?”

“…”

“Yohan-ah, I’m tired. If you’ve said what you wanted to say, can you leave my room now?”

Without answering, Jung Yohan stood up.

Maybe he was really going to leave without a fight. But then—

“…!”

Jung Yohan stepped right up to me. Close enough that our knees touched.

As I faltered, his head leaned toward me. He pressed his nose against my neck and whispered.

“Perfume.”

His hot breath landed on my neck, the sensation vivid enough to raise goosebumps.

The heat that bloomed there spread instantly over my face.

I knew without looking in a mirror that my face was red. Thankfully, the room was dark.

“You smell like another man’s perfume.”

Jung Yohan lifted his head sharply and pressed me as if interrogating. He looked somewhat dissatisfied.

“You mean I smell, right? Got it. I’ll wash up before going to sleep, so you go to bed too.”

I tried to move past him, worried he would notice my flushed face if I lingered.

But as soon as I stepped aside, Jung Yohan grabbed my wrist.

“Yo—mph.”

Yohan’s burning lips sealed over mine.