WGD Ch 1
by soapaBest │ [Exclusive] Cha Wonwoo and Kang Siheon, Shocking Update: “Divorce Mediation Finalized, Only Registration Remains”
(Wedding photo that tore the two apart.jpg)
▲ On their wedding day
Provided by: CH Group, Sori Entertainment
The protagonists who once set South Korea abuzz with their union as the third-generation heir of a conglomerate and a popular actor—Cha Wonwoo (28), the successor of CH Group, and actress Kang Siheon (30)—are divorcing after two years of marriage.
According to an investigation by StarALO News, the couple quietly initiated divorce proceedings. It has been reported that the mediation session held this morning concluded with both parties reaching a final agreement.
A legal representative from CH Group stated, “Once the divorce registration is filed within one month with the mediation document, all procedures will be complete. We have no further comments regarding their private lives, and both individuals have agreed to support each other’s future endeavors.”
Kang Siheon’s agency, Sori Entertainment, also confirmed, “(The article) is correct. Actress Kang Siheon plans to take a break for the time being and prepare for her next project. We deeply regret delivering this unfortunate news to her fans, and she hopes to repay them with great acting in the future.”
Previously, the two met on the set of a bank advertisement for CH Group, where Kang Siheon was filming, and their relationship blossomed into romance. When they announced their relationship, it garnered attention due to their shared high school alma mater and the affectionate photos and captions posted by Cha Wonwoo on social media.
After a year of a sweet, public romance, they announced their marriage and held a grand wedding ceremony blessed by political and business figures as well as fans. However, the news of their divorce after just two years has come as a major shock.
Both sides, however, remain tight-lipped about the specific reasons for the divorce.
- Reporter Seo Do-woon (west_help@staralo.co.kr)
—
I thought this was just tabloid gossip, but since there were interviews from CH and Sori, I brought it over. What is going on?
Comments (1,254)
- Sunshine… humidity… this couple’s verification shots… everything was perfect, so who was it? Who brought up divorce…?
- Tell me it’s not true, damn it
└22
└WTF, I can’t believe it even after seeing it
└Didn’t they post a photo from their newlywed home just a while ago?
- ????? Is this for real??? I saw the headline and thought it was just another tabloid rumor
- My favorite… ugh, if you were going to leave, at least live happily
└22
└Si-honey… I allowed you to be Cha Wonwoo’s honey, so what is this?
└It’s not even my divorce, so why am I tearing up? ; ㅠㅠㅠㅠ I’m so depressed right now
└Sigh… everyone get out, I want to be alone
- What even is marriage?
└22 Seriously, what is it? They smiled so beautifully, dated, and got married
└Seeing this makes me feel like even true love is pointless
- Soon, there’ll be a flood of “insider” articles—‘this happened,’ ‘that happened’—I’m already tired of it
└From A to Z, they’re always on standby!
└Insider A~ Insider B~ Insider C~ They’re all about to get dragged out
└Isn’t this the first article? Why are people already saying they’re tired?
└If you’re tired, just scroll past it. If you don’t click, you won’t see it
└OP: No, damn it, I’m a Kang Siheon fan, so I’m saying I’m tired thinking about all the anonymous “insiders” who’ll come out and run their mouths ((((Kang Siheon))))
└Meanwhile, look at the article’s photo, damn it. Did they really have to take a wedding picture and tear it up like that? Reporters are trash
- (Comment deleted by user)
└Whoa, did they break a protractor?
└Leave it alone
└They’re divorced, and you still want to do this?
- But if it’s mediation and not a mutual agreement, does that mean one side is at fault?
└If it’s a mutual agreement, don’t they have to go to court themselves? With mediation, just a lawyer can go… Maybe they did it this way because court photos would be a hassle? I don’t know much about the law, so just take it as a reference!
- Huh? Didn’t they say Cha Wonwoo was next to Kang Siheon during her live broadcast two months ago? Wasn’t that why she had to end it quickly?
└Yeah, what’s up with that?
└I looked it up, and divorce mediation takes about 3 months on average, but it can be as fast as 2 months, hmm…
└So they were fine until the live broadcast, and then it suddenly fell apart in 2 months?
└We wouldn’t know ㅠ
└If that’s true, what could’ve happened in 2 months to ruin things?
└A-f-f-a-i-r?
└Cheating? Infidelity?
└This or that
└No rumors, please. Let’s just stick to what’s officially confirmed and not speculate on reasons
- It feels like the world is filming a hidden camera prank without me
└LOL for real
└This couple seemed like they’d never even hit a rough patch, let alone divorce
- (Comment blocked due to reports)
└No, damn it, all those rumors died down when they officially started dating, so what kind of nonsense is this?
└What’s “SP”?
└Sponsor;; Before they announced their relationship, YouTube rumor-mongers uploaded videos claiming Kang Siheon was sponsored by Cha Wonwoo with “evidence” and whatnot
└There’s nothing reliable, so you’re believing YouTube rumor-mongers?
└Putting everything else aside, with Cha Wonwoo’s personality, would he even tolerate a sponsor situation?
- ??: Divorce? Bro, should we sue everyone spreading this stuff?
??: We just won’t do it, why sue? Get out of here~ This is my live broadcast
That’s what they said a year ago, guys, what happened? ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ - I heard from some mutual acquaintances that it’s been quietly circulating—it’s about second-generation issues. Apparently, CH opposed the marriage from the start, and there were rumors about Kang Siheon being “IS” or something, hmm
└Here comes the “I know everything” insider theory
└What’s “IS”? Pregnancy? Miscarriage?
└What I heard was “infertility” or “omega” or something
└Everything mentioned above is true lol, those in the know already know
└Oh, look, another know-it-all! Tsk tsk~
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- So it’s not just a simple personality difference? They’re staying quiet about the reason?
└Another article said it’s a personality difference. This exclusive seems to be stretching it
└Even if there’s a specific reason, they’d just say “personality difference.” They can’t and don’t need to spill everything to the public
- CH and Sori said they’re suing everyone spreading rumors, so bye-bye~
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- “Once the divorce registration is filed within one month with the mediation document, all procedures will be complete.” I’m only believing this—there’s still one step left… I’m holding out for a month… I can’t let it end like this ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ ((Cha♥Kang))
＊＊＊＊＊
『How many lovers have grown distant from each other because of marriage?』
— Alfred Capus
＊＊＊＊＊
They say marriage is a crazy thing, but divorce was undoubtedly even crazier.
[Sender: Cha Wonwoo 010-XXXX-XXXX]
“Don’t change your phone number without saying anything. If it’s unavoidable, we must inform each other without fail.” Siheon recalled the countless divorce conditions they had negotiated.
“Why did he insist on adding that clause?”
He set down the script he was reading and stared at his phone. From the days of their flirtation to now, post-divorce, the custom ringtone reserved solely for Cha Wonwoo echoed through the house.
“……”
It was 2 a.m. While others might receive a “You asleep?” text from an ex-boyfriend at this hour, he got a call. From his ex-husband, no less. As he stood still, keeping his distance from the phone as if it were a bomb, the persistent ringing finally stopped. A silence like the calm before a storm settled in.
Should he just turn it off completely? The moment he reached out hesitantly, a loud notification chimed, and a text arrived.
<
Cha Wonwoo
I have something to say
What could Chief Cha possibly want to say at 2 a.m.? Siheon, whose long, sleek legs—once voted “#1 Star You’d Want to Wash Your Feet For”—paced the living room, sent a reply.
<
Do it by text
<
It’s not something to say by text
So that’s how he’s playing it. Running a hand through his long hair, Siheon flopped onto the living room sofa. Fine, let’s hear it then—what’s so important it can’t be said by text? The moment he dialed, Cha Wonwoo’s voice came through.
—Hyung.
“What do you have to say?”
—I saw the CF that aired. Did the director approve that outfit?
“…What?”
—I mean, hyung, you look good in anything, any color. But still, that vague sky blue? It’s not it. It killed both the product and the model.
Cha Wonwoo’s voice, earnestly critiquing the TV commercial that launched today, was as serious as ever. For a moment, it felt less like they were divorced and more like he’d gone on a business trip for a shoot. Was it okay to chat about mundane things like this, as if nothing had changed? The illusion was strong enough to make him wonder. Adjusting his grip on the phone, Siheon asked,
“You called me to give feedback on the ad? Is this a joke?”
—Would I call you at this hour to joke around?
Look who’s talking. He’d thought it was something urgent, but it was just a CF review? Pressing his temple, Siheon retorted,
“Hey, Chief Cha. If you really want to give feedback, leave it on my fan café. Don’t do this at 2 a.m. Even without you, I’m busy unpacking and settling in after the move.”
—Speaking of moving, since it came up…
What now? His headache worsened. Sitting up abruptly from the sofa, he heard Cha Wonwoo’s voice, brimming with dissatisfaction.
—Why are you like this, hyung?
“What now?”
—When you moved out, why did you leave behind everything I bought you? If you’re taking stuff, take it all. Don’t you think about how it feels for the person left with the stuff?
Wouldn’t it be weirder to haul out every single thing he’d given him during a divorce? Whatever Siheon thought, Cha Wonwoo went on at length about how painful it was to see the traces left behind. It seemed he had no intention of hanging up all night. Siheon let out a small sigh.
“So what do you want me to do? Keep it short. Don’t you know phone etiquette?”
—Come by tomorrow and take it all. I bought it for you, so it’s yours. Take it, throw it away, sell it—do whatever you want.
“Why don’t you just deal with it yourself?”
—I can’t throw away stuff I gave you with my own hands. No matter what it is.
He really knows how to leave someone speechless. As Siheon struggled to find a reply, Cha Wonwoo dropped a declaration.
—The password is the same, and your fingerprint’s still registered, so just come get it.
“Hey, Cha Won—”
Click. Beep—beep—beep—! The sound confirming the call had ended rang in his ears. On the darkened screen, only Siheon’s face stared back at him.
His thick lips—once crowned “#1 Celebrity You’d Want to Kiss on Coming-of-Age Day”—parted blankly.
＊＊＊＊＊
Kang Siheon. Thirty years old. Former child actor. A top star whose every project is a hit. Active as a beta. At the peak of his career, he began a public relationship with Cha Wonwoo, a dominant alpha and third-generation chaebol heir. Announced their marriage alongside revealing his omega traits—though he left out the part about being a recessive omega. Recently, he’s the one who rocked the world with his divorce from Cha Wonwoo, the man he once adored.
A sigh escaped him as he summed up his life in 123 characters, excluding spaces.
“Kang, the office is going to shut down.”
“It’s a building I raised—does it matter if it shuts down a bit? I’ll bring it back up.”
At Sori Entertainment’s CEO office, Siheon sat upright, flipping through a script, when CEO Heo looked up from signing documents.
“You’ll build us a new office? Yongsan? Cheongdam? If you’re building a new one, maybe we should try it too. A universe. Combining our singers and actors into a Sori Universe. What do you think?”
Siheon shrugged and replied,
“Should I criticize you for losing your touch, advise you to wake up, or threaten to terminate my contract? What do you prefer, CEO?”
Tut-tut. Clicking his tongue, CEO Heo shook his head.
“You never let a single word slide.”
“I don’t yield unless it’s someone I like. And I don’t feel like yielding either.”
He started acting at ten. He didn’t know much back then, but thankfully, it turned out to be his calling. There was a brief crisis when he manifested as a recessive omega, but he continued his career by pretending to be a beta.
Revealing he was a male omega would cost him more than it would gain. Especially in acting, it would limit his roles. Not to mention the flood of crude rumors and being treated as a commodity for others to toy with. So he hid it tightly, only revealing his traits because of the marriage.
“You’re starting counseling today, right?”
On the long guest table sat a rattan basket filled with plum-flavored, green grape-flavored, and colorful candies. As he nodded while idly rummaging through them, a worried nag followed.
“Go consistently. You don’t have a schedule, so don’t skip it.”
“Are you guilt-tripping me for slacking off?”
“No way. Considering all the money you’ve made us, I can still handle it.”
“Just wait. Once I come back, I’ll earn you even more.”
CEO Heo, twirling a fountain pen in his hand, grinned.
“I’d like that.”
Despite the playful banter, all Siheon really wanted was to sleep endlessly, ignoring work and everything else. He’d burned through a lifetime’s worth of passion during the divorce, leaving only a lethargic shell. If it weren’t for his fans, he’d have gone off the grid. Sighing, Siheon pulled his black baseball cap low and stood up.
“I’ll get going.”
“Alright, take care.”
In the parking lot, a burly man waved enthusiastically from the driver’s seat. Manager Lee Kangsan. A beta with a physique bigger than most alphas and impressive muscles. A diligent, reliable guy handpicked by CEO Heo for him.
“Gonna sleep?”
As soon as Siheon got in and reclined the seat, Kangsan asked with concern.
“Yeah. No radio. No music.”
“Come on, I already know your style, hyung-nim.”
“Then why’s the guy who knows me blabbing about it?”
It was all because of this loose-lipped manager that CEO Heo had called him in under the pretense of discussing his next project, checked his condition, and pushed counseling. Especially after catching him mixing alcohol and sleeping pills that one time.
Starting the car, Kangsan flashed a cutesy tone that didn’t match his size.
“Aww~ don’t scold me too much. It’s all for you, hyung-nim. So you don’t ruin your health. You’ve gotta work with me for a long, long time.”
“Such a blabbermouth. Always talking.”
“But there’s no manager like me, right?”
“Enough. Let’s drop it. I’m sleeping, so wake me when we get there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Despite his words, sleep wouldn’t come even with his eyes closed. Since moving out and living apart from Cha Wonwoo after the divorce, Siheon had been stuck in this state. Severe insomnia. His growing irritability made him feel like he’d snap and cause a scene soon.
Oh, actor Kang Siheon. Is this how your 20-year accident-free acting career ends?
It was like a hallucination whispering in his ear. No way. Nervously, he bit his lip.
He wanted to prove it. That he was fine. To CEO Heo, to his fans, and to Cha Wonwoo too.
Alfred Capus: 19th-century French journalist
＊＊＊＊＊
“You’ve heard it too, right, doctor? That this industry is full of bad-tempered jerks.”
The “Trait Specialist Hospital” near Seoul that Siheon visited was recommended by CEO Heo. It doubled as a counseling center and, though small, was equipped with an operating room, patient rooms, and consultation rooms.
“That’s not true.”
Siheon continued, fiddling with a lukewarm cup. Sitting across from him was the head of the counseling center. He’d expected a gray-haired old man, but the man looked middle-aged. The nameplate read “Yoo Yeonoh.”
“It’s not that the industry starts with only bad-tempered people—it’s that only the bad-tempered ones survive. Or they get that way trying to survive.”
I’m the latter. Siheon adjusted his posture as he spoke. I was really a good kid. But now, I’ve gotten pretty messed up. My heart. My thoughts. Oh, not my body, though. It felt less like counseling and more like a confession.
The middle-aged man, Yoo Yeonoh, had a friendly demeanor. He listened to Siheon with a constant smile. Having counseled countless clients, he could tell that Siheon, who seemed to spill everything, was actually holding back his true feelings. Even about the divorce.
“Anyway, here’s the conclusion. Once I successfully return and finish a project, I should take an overseas trip.”
After talking nonstop, Siheon shut his mouth and glanced at the clock. Having lived his life in front of cameras, baring his inner thoughts was especially hard. Plus, years in this business inevitably bred distrust in people. Even now.
What if this doctor posts my story on some app? What’s the guarantee he won’t tell his colleagues? What if there’s a recorder or camera hidden in this room?
Suspicion had long been his companion. So he approached counseling like a talk show, letting only carefully filtered stories pass his lips.
“Then let’s wrap up for today.”
Yoo Yeonoh, fully aware, didn’t press him. He simply assigned a short homework task: write a journal until the next session.
But when told he could leave, Siheon lingered, not standing up right away. He fidgeted with his knee, stalling, until the silence grew unbearable and he spoke.
“What if—just hypothetically…”
“…”
“What if I don’t want to get better?”
It was the first glimpse of his true feelings, delivered indirectly. The director asked calmly if there was a reason he didn’t want to improve. Siheon just pressed his cap lower.
Because staying hurt is easier than getting better.
The words he wanted to say stayed trapped inside, as always.
“No, forget I said that. See you next time.”
He shot up and bolted out of the room as if someone might stop him. Watching Siheon hurry away like he was being chased, the man placed his hands on the keyboard.
[Day 1 Counseling Notes]
Patient: Kang Siheon
Symptoms: Post-divorce stress-induced neurosis (insomnia, anxiety, hysteria), lethargy, depression, reports of pheromone instability
▶ The aforementioned patient…
Tap-tap-tap. The sound of typing stretched on. After finishing, he sent a text with the recorded session file attached. Soon, a short vibration broke the silence of the room.
On Yoo Yeonoh’s phone screen appeared a name every South Korean would recognize.
The heir of CH Group.
And
<
Cha Wonwoo
Confirmed.
Kang Siheon’s alpha, Cha Wonwoo.
＊＊＊＊＊
Some days are like that.
You wake up early because the street outside is noisier than usual, or the alarm doesn’t go off, or the hot water suddenly stops, and for such petty reasons, your mood sours from the morning.
<
Cha Wonwoo
Today, absolutely.
Seeing the smug period at the end, Siheon was certain today was one of those days.
“He’s not even a landlord nagging me to move out.”
What’s the big deal about picking up stuff that he’s texting from the morning? And it annoyed him how Cha Wonwoo kept insisting via text that he come himself instead of sending someone else. Sure, it was probably because he didn’t want strangers traipsing through the house, but still.
<
Fine.
Siheon replied with an equally petty period, groaned, and sprawled out to kill time before getting up. He planned to go with his manager after rush hour, grab the stuff quickly, and leave.
But if things ever went as planned, would that guy still be Cha Wonwoo?
In the parking lot, next to the car his manager drove up in, stood a familiar sedan. In front of it was Yang, the secretary. Practically a third family member, having been with them through flirting, dating, marriage, and divorce.
“Actor Kang, good morning. I’m here to escort you.”
His professional smile and polite words carried an unspoken resolve to take Siheon no matter what. Siheon put on a business smile of his own and responded,
“Yes, good to see you too, Secretary Yang. But I’ll be going in my manager’s car. It’s more convenient for us to use our vehicle to pick up the stuff anyway.”
“No need to worry about that. We’ll drive you back too.”
“You must be busy, though.”
“It’s a direct request from the Chief. Nothing’s more important than this.”
Request? More like an order. He said he’d pick him up and drop him off, but it was probably to monitor whether Siheon actually came and took everything.
Noticing Siheon’s displeased expression, Secretary Yang added an excuse.
“And it’s safer for you to take our car to the Chief’s place rather than a company vehicle. We wouldn’t want unnecessary rumors causing you trouble.”
Glancing at his manager, who’d stepped out to keep watch, Siheon reluctantly nodded. As he approached the sedan’s back seat, Secretary Yang quickly added,
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“…?”
“Do you happen to have the Pepero doll?”
“What?”
“The Chief said it’s his, but it’s missing. He thinks you might have taken it…”
Even Secretary Yang seemed embarrassed to discuss a doll between grown men, trailing off. Or maybe he was ashamed of a boss petty enough to fixate on a single doll.
It was absurd. The doll in question was something Siheon had clung to in bed throughout their marriage. He’d bought it to appease his sulky younger boyfriend when a shoot kept them from dating, but the one meant to use it never did—only Siheon ended up using it. Sleeping with his legs propped on that plump Pepero was pure comfort. Anyway, the guy who’d been itching to toss it out was now claiming it as his and demanding it back.
So childish, seriously.
Swallowing his irritation, Siheon turned silently and went back inside. The doll, still useful post-move, sat alone on his bed.
What if he hid a USB in it? Company secrets? If there was anything, he’d devour it whole, he vowed, feeling it up and down. Nothing special stood out.
Whatever. He’d just hand it over. It’s not like it held grand memories. Why bother pondering unanswerable questions?
Cha Wonwoo was always like an unsolvable test question—unsettling to leave alone, yet impossible to crack even with effort.
“You’re in big trouble now. You’ll only get hate if you go there.”
Poking the doll hard for no reason, Siheon sighed briefly, grabbed it, and headed out. He told his manager, Kangsan, to head home and tossed the doll into the car Secretary Yang opened for him.
From his new place to the marital home was about 30 minutes. Marital home. The familiar term popped up, and Siheon, sitting in the back with his chin propped up, staring out the window, flinched. Marital home, my foot. Shaking off the bitterness, he blankly watched the passing scenery.
Hoping his emotions and memories would drift away like this too.
“We’ve arrived.”
It took less than 30 minutes, well past rush hour. The car grew quiet as the engine shut off.
Siheon grabbed the doll and stepped out before Secretary Yang could open the door. The man, robbed of his task, extended a hand with an awkward look.
“I’ll carry it for you.”
“He’d hate it if he knew you touched it.”
That guy could sense someone else’s hands on his stuff like a ghost.
From the parking lot to the entrance wasn’t far, and the diligent secretary played his role perfectly until they reached the door, where he stepped back as if his mission was complete.
“You’re not coming in, Secretary Yang?”
“No, I’ll wait outside.”
“You’ve come inside before for work stuff. He wouldn’t mind… And it’d be faster to move the stuff together than me doing it alone.”
“Well… I think it’s best if you go in alone for now.”
What’s this? That suspicious attitude.
With unease, Siheon opened the door. The upscale residential complex house was just as Cha Wonwoo said—password unchanged, fingerprint still registered. The door swung open as if waiting for him, stirring mixed feelings.
Why hasn’t he changed this? What if I barge in drunk? It was entirely plausible. He’d do anything when wasted.
The hallway from the entrance was lined with frames like an art gallery, but now they were empty shells. Once, they’d held captured moments of their happiness. Avoiding that side, he headed to the master room when a voice he shouldn’t have heard stopped him.
“Hyung, you’re here?”
＊＊＊＊＊
Siheon clenched his jaw and slowly turned toward the voice.
At the end of the hallway, connected to the living room, stood a man. Dressed in a suit tailored exclusively for him from start to finish, hair neatly swept back, casually checking his wristwatch.
“Took less time than I thought.”
Even from a distance, his imposing frame was half-bathed in sunlight streaming through the living room window.
Siheon asked blankly,
“…Why are you here?”
“Because it’s my house?”
The man answered leisurely, with a playful edge—Cha Wonwoo. His ex-husband.
“You didn’t go to work? You should be at the office right now. Wait, no—you told me to come get the stuff myself.”
The password was unchanged, his fingerprint still registered, and he’d been told to come pick up his things, right? As Siheon stared in disbelief, Cha Wonwoo tilted his head tauntingly.
“Yeah, but I never said I wouldn’t be home.”
No wonder Secretary Yang refused to come in. Siheon’s mouth fell open unconsciously. He should’ve known when Cha Wonwoo called at 2 a.m. over some trivial CF feedback. He’d been tricked. That sly fox. His eye twitched—not from magnesium deficiency, but sheer frustration.
“…”
Cha Wonwoo, watching every tiny movement with hawk-like intensity, stepped forward confidently.
“My stuff’s here.”
He snatched the Pepero doll from Siheon’s hand.
“I feel better when all my things are with me. Also, I didn’t realize how big the bed felt. I might sleep with this from now on.”
As he drew closer, a familiar scent and pheromones wafted subtly toward Siheon. His body, as if it had been waiting, began to relax and soften. No amount of sleeping pills had worked, but this? It was ridiculous. Gritting his teeth against his body’s involuntary relief, Siheon said,
“Fine, cuddle it all you want. I’m going to get my stuff.”
With the doll delivered, he turned to gather his things and leave, but Cha Wonwoo grabbed him with an urgent hand.
“Wait.”
“…”
“The stuff was an excuse. Since you’re here, have breakfast.”
He jerked his chin toward the dining room. His shamelessness was so blatant that Siheon’s rising anger lost its target and dissipated. Right, what’s the point of arguing with someone this unreasonable?
About to speak, Siheon closed his mouth. Cha Wonwoo pressed again.
“I know you, hyung. You haven’t eaten breakfast, right? Eat before you go.”
Only then did Siheon pull his wrist free and snap back,
“The guy who knows everything didn’t know it’s too late for breakfast? Who eats breakfast at this hour?”
“Then lunch.”
“Breakfast or lunch, it’s all weird.”
At the clear rejection, Cha Wonwoo raised an eyebrow in displeasure. It might intimidate his coworkers, but to Siheon, he just looked like a sulky kid unaware of his own tantrum. Rubbing the end of his brow with a long finger, he said,
“Think of it as brunch, then. Doesn’t matter what you call it.”
Siheon snorted immediately.
“There’s stew smell—brunch, my ass.”
“Then let’s eat rice with the stew.”
“It’s still a while till lunchtime.”
“If it’s far off, we’ll make it work. Neither of us are the type to eat on a fixed schedule. If there’s no time, we make it.”
“You’ve got a knack for making nonsense sound reasonable.”
“Thanks. I hear that a lot.”
Shrugging nonchalantly, Cha Wonwoo suddenly reached out. His hand slid naturally from Siheon’s shoulder to his neck, down his back, and to his waist, guiding him toward the dining room like an embrace.
“Let’s go.”
“What are you doing?”
Letting out an incredulous laugh, Siheon glared and planted his feet. If Cha Wonwoo used pheromones or brute strength, he’d lose, but he trusted the guy wouldn’t resort to that against him.
“The food’s stuff you like.”
“You think we’re in a place to sit and eat together?”
A divorced couple meeting in court was one thing, but sitting down for a meal at this hour? What kind of brain comes up with and executes that?
Despite the sharp retort, Cha Wonwoo didn’t lose his smile. As if he could handle this much, as if he’d anticipated this reaction.
As warmth spread from Cha Wonwoo’s touch on his back and waist, Siheon’s nerves bristled. He shoved the hand away hard.
“Stop it, seriously.”
Cha Wonwoo narrowed his brow, muttering as if displeased with the situation.
“Can’t divorced people share a meal once in a while?”
“Once becomes twice, twice becomes thrice.”
“I’m fine with four or five times too.”
“If you’re so fine with it, do it with someone else. Get a boyfriend.”
In an instant, Cha Wonwoo’s smile vanished, his face turning icy. A voice as cold as his hardened expression flowed out.
“Hyung, did you meet someone else?”
I haven’t heard any reports about that. His lips pressed into a flat line as he added the low remark.
Darkened eyes beneath thick brows began scanning Siheon’s face obsessively. They seemed ready to chew and dissect every word from his mouth, determined to uncover the truth. Meeting those deep, tenacious eyes head-on, Siheon replied,
“Whether I do or not, let’s stay out of each other’s business. Maybe you don’t get it since it’s your first divorce, but that’s what divorce is. We become strangers. No reason or right to meddle in each other’s private lives. Got it?”
“…”
Whether he didn’t get it or didn’t want to, Cha Wonwoo stayed silent. Of course—his stubbornness was unbreakable. Then and now, he’d clamp his mouth shut when he didn’t want to answer, no matter what. In moments like this, he was every bit the spoiled rich kid.
“Next time you need something, send Secretary Yang. I came today, but I won’t next time.”
If a photo got out, who knows how much speculation and dissection that single shot would spark?
“You and I stay irrelevant to each other now.”
That’s what a successful divorce means.
A weak voice caught Siheon as he turned away.
“I’ve been starving.”
This worked better than pushing. Blinking quietly, Siheon instinctively glanced back. Cha Wonwoo’s complexion did look off.
“Work’s been crazy, I haven’t slept properly, and I’ve been forcing down coffee instead of food or rest. This is the first proper meal I’ve had today.”
Cha Wonwoo rubbed his haggard face. The calm he’d been faking seemed to have run dry. Lowering his eyes, he whispered,
“I don’t want to eat alone.”
He looked frail and exhausted enough to make Siheon’s fingertips tingle. Enough to want to hug and comfort him right then and there.
“Ha…”
Sighing, Siheon ran a hand through his hair irritably. I swear, because of you— The unfinished sentence slipped through his teeth.
As his breath scattered like a lament, Siheon closed the distance, tapped Cha Wonwoo’s arm, and walked past.
“Just today.”
He’d lost again. Swallowing a self-deprecating laugh, Siheon passed the stunned Cha Wonwoo and headed to the dining room.
The long wooden table was laden with side dishes Siheon liked. Cha Wonwoo’s portion, despite his claim of starvation, was just plain porridge. He’d always been a light eater, and starving on top of that? No wonder food wouldn’t go down.
Setting the doll on the living room sofa, Cha Wonwoo followed a beat later, shedding his jacket onto the opposite chair before sitting. He picked up a spoon silently, looking gaunt. CH Group wraps him up as their heir, a dominant alpha, but they can’t even feed him properly? Useless bunch. Siheon’s insides boiled.
“…”
“…”
Unlike his noisy thoughts, the meal was quiet. Light streamed through the large window, the aroma of food teased the appetite, and the occasional clink of dishes filled the silence between them.
Peaceful, and uncomfortable.
There’d been a time when their silence felt comfortable. When just being together, without doing anything, felt connected. When the fullness of understanding each other without words was maddeningly happy.
“What you said earlier.”
Cha Wonwoo, who’d been stirring his uneaten porridge, spoke up.
“About getting a boyfriend.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you mean it?”
“What does my sincerity matter? If you want to date, you date.”
A sticky gaze lingered on Siheon as he ate.
“Are you really seeing someone, hyung?”
“…”
“It’s fine, just tell me.”
Pouting slightly, Cha Wonwoo blinked slowly, as if insisting he was harmless and his question bore no ill intent.
Siheon tugged his lips into a smirk and let out a dry laugh.
“Fine, huh? Tone down that murderous pheromone before you lie.”
“…”
“What’s the point of that coaxing tone? Your eyes and pheromones are so fierce they sting.”
He directed his words at the guy who’d shift his attitude, tone, expression, and gestures dozens of times a day to get what he wanted.
“Cha Wonwoo, your pheromones are out of control right now.”
＊＊＊＊＊
There was no way a dominant alpha like him couldn’t control his own pheromones. There were two possibilities: either he was exposing them intentionally, or he’d lost his composure to the point where he couldn’t regulate them.
“Ah…”
The former seemed much more like Cha Wonwoo. After a brief pause, he quickly reined in his pheromones and raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry.”
Then he meticulously checked Siheon’s expression.
“Was it too much? Are you feeling dizzy or anything?”
“It’s not like you sprayed it directly at me. It’s fine, just be careful from now on.”
Siheon casually made the request and picked up some seasoned green seaweed. It was a dish he liked for its clean taste and how it didn’t sit heavy in his stomach. Most of the food on the table was like that—lightly seasoned, clean, and simple, leaving no lingering aftertaste. All suited to his preferences.
“…And I’m not seeing anyone. Do you think I have the mental space to date right now? I’m busy enough picking my next project.”
Swallowing the food in his mouth, Siheon spoke in a slightly softened tone.
“Right, hyung’s busy.”
Cha Wonwoo echoed him as if it were a necessity. Funny guy.
His pheromones had now completely faded. Though a faint trace lingered in the living space, it wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it felt familiar and comforting.
Not feeling much appetite for rice, Siheon reached for some grilled mushrooms when his phone buzzed. It was a text from CEO Heo.
“Who’s that?”
Cha Wonwoo asked subtly, his tone probing.
“The CEO.”
“Why?”
“He’s got something to say, so he wants me to stop by the office. A script came in, and apparently, the director’s someone so impressive he’d love for me to take it.”
Without realizing it, Siheon rattled off the text’s contents, then caught himself and snapped his head up. Cha Wonwoo wore a strangely satisfied smile before leisurely picking up his spoon.
“No other messages from CEO Heo?”
Siheon stuffed his phone into his pocket and replied curtly.
“He nagged me to work since I’ve been slacking off so much.”
He was inwardly shocked that he’d shared the text so casually, just like old times.
“…Really? CEO Heo’s giving you a hard time? Saying you’re not working? Even though your new CF just aired?”
“Why are you asking so menacingly? I was kidding.”
Cha Wonwoo’s voice had turned chilly, so Siheon quickly clarified the truth and sped up his eating. The food, tailored to his taste, was even arranged in the order he usually ate it.
“If CEO Heo’s bothering you, tell me.”
“What am I, a kid? And what if I do?”
“CH could start an entertainment division.”
“Don’t say creepy stuff like that—eat your porridge before it gets cold.”
Cha Wonwoo had said to tell him if CEO Heo was bothering him, but what really troubled Siheon were the scripts that kept coming in, all featuring nothing but “omega” characters.
Kangsan, every role’s an omega. Is this right?
The ten scripts the company had filtered and handed him were ten different omega characters.
Back when he worked as a beta, he was the top pick for cool, sexy roles without fail. Now, all he got were roles steeped in stereotypes—the so-called “omega behavior.”
This was exactly what he’d worried about when he revealed his traits. It just hadn’t hit him fully since he’d mostly done ads after marriage.
There were several reasons he’d focused on commercials over projects: newlywed life, pressure from CH Group, and above all, Cha Wonwoo clinging to him, begging him not to be too busy.
A guy who got called a jerk outside would pull out every ounce of charm, saying he wished his hyung wasn’t so tied up—how could anyone resist that?
But now, post-divorce, as he tried to pick his next project, the situation was worse than he’d thought. What did it matter if the roles ranged from police officers to firefighters, doctors, teachers, or gangsters? They were all just characters reproducing the public’s preconceptions about omegas.
And most weren’t even lead roles—closer to supporting ones. Not that that was inherently bad, but given his name value, the offers were laughable. Was it because he was a divorced male omega, or was CH Group pulling strings? Siheon shook his head as his thoughts reached that point.
“Hyung?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Whatever it was, he didn’t want Cha Wonwoo to know about this treatment.
＊＊＊＊＊
Once the meal was over, Cha Wonwoo got up and immediately brewed coffee. There wasn’t even time to stop him. Left with no choice, Siheon started rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. If he was going to drink the coffee too, he ought to do something.
“Just leave it. The housekeeper will come by later.”
“I like cleaning up right after eating.”
At his family home, a housekeeper was always around, and after moving out, he’d lived in a luxury residence with concierge service, so Cha Wonwoo was far removed from housework. It was a life where he never needed to form the habit, so it made sense.
The few things he did learn—like making an iced Americano from scratch—came from wanting Siheon to rest after they got married.
“Drink.”
Cha Wonwoo set the coffee on the living room table and sat on the sofa. Siheon hesitated before plopping down on the floor a good distance away.
“I’ll leave right after this.”
“Then drink it slowly.”
“Who drinks iced coffee slowly?”
Siheon chugged it defiantly. Ah, refreshing. Only after downing half did he speak. A deflated laugh came from Cha Wonwoo behind him.
“The weather’s nice today.”
Making a bland comment, Siheon gazed at the private terrace connected to the living room. With folding glass doors, on days like this, they could open it fully and use the living room and terrace as one space.
A barbecue grill, a campfire table, a long, plush chair that could double as a bed—a perfect relaxation spot styled like a personal garden.
“I hope you can rest here from now on, hyung.”
On their first day in the newlywed home, Cha Wonwoo had said that, lighting a fire and holding Siheon tightly on that chair, lying together until the sunset faded and the stars came out.
“…”
Lost in old memories while staring at the terrace, Siheon pulled his gaze away and turned toward where Cha Wonwoo sat.
“Whoa, you scared me.”
He’d been so quiet Siheon thought he was asleep, but Cha Wonwoo was staring right at him.
“You’re not sleeping?”
“Hmm… I might be. This feels like a dream, after all.”
“What are you saying?”
“We’re eating together, you’re sitting there drinking coffee, and I’m just staring at you blankly. It’s just like before. Feels like we never divorced.”
Cha Wonwoo looked a little sad. Feeling strange, Siheon averted his eyes.
“Guess you are dreaming. You’re spouting nonsense.”
“Nonsense…”
Muttering weakly, he continued.
“You’re right. I’ve been saying a lot of nonsense lately. Seeing things too. I can’t tell what’s a dream or what’s real anymore. It all feels like a nightmare.”
“…If you can’t tell the difference, you should get help. I started counseling recently—it’s been good. You should try it.”
Siheon wished divorce was just a word. Something written on paper, printed in articles, no different from any other term. A dictionary entry stripped of emotion.
He gulped the coffee like it was liquor. Tilting his head back to drink, he stared at himself and Cha Wonwoo reflected on the blank TV screen.
We shouldn’t be in the same frame anymore.
With a loud clack, Siheon set the cup down, wiped the coffee dripping from his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood. His upper body vanished from the screen.
“I’m going.”
“Wait.”
As expected, Cha Wonwoo grabbed his wrist.
“What now?”
“I think I could sleep now.”
“…”
“Go after I fall asleep. I won’t stop you.”
Then he added softly.
“Sorry.”
His eyes, pleading for help to sleep, were too desperate. Siheon almost said it was none of his business whether he slept or not, but the words caught in his throat. He plopped down beside Cha Wonwoo without a word.
Cha Wonwoo released his wrist and rested his hand over Siheon’s. His other hand lay on the soft Pepero doll.
“…”
It seemed he wasn’t lying about being able to sleep now—soon, steady breathing filled the air.
If you’re going to sleep, at least lie down properly. Change your clothes or something.
He was still in a pristine shirt and tie. Siheon reached out instinctively but stopped. What, am I going to loosen his tie? Stroke his hair? His chest felt tight. Like the food was sitting heavy.
He tried releasing pheromones to help Cha Wonwoo sleep deeper, but it didn’t work. His glands felt blocked, unable to regulate as he wanted. Left with no choice, he waited longer.
How much time passed?
Successfully slipping his hand free, Siheon grabbed the suit jacket from the dining room chair and draped it over Cha Wonwoo. He didn’t stir once.
After hesitating, Siheon picked up a pen from the living room table and scribbled a note on a Post-it.
Leaving.
He wrote it thinking an empty departure might leave Cha Wonwoo’s heart too hollow, but after writing, he wondered if it might make him sadder. Their goodbyes had always been four characters.
Leaving.
I’ll be back.
In the end, Siheon crumpled the note, tossed it in the kitchen trash, and left.
＊＊＊＊＊
“You know Director Pyo Wookjun, right?”
After riding with Secretary Yang to the company, Siheon had stopped by the bathroom to empty his stomach before meeting CEO Heo.
“What actor doesn’t? He’s swept every film festival abroad and even won Best Director at Cannes.”
Siheon’s face was pale as he answered. Whether it was indigestion or a pheromone issue, he wasn’t feeling great. CEO Heo, sitting with his legs crossed and rocking his chair slightly, asked,
“You okay?”
“With what?”
“Your body.”
“You’re worrying over nothing.”
“I feel guilty talking work with a face that looks half-dead.”
Siheon let out a dry laugh at CEO Heo’s words. Don’t bother finding a conscience you don’t have—just get to the point so I can rest. At the logical nudge, CEO Heo nodded.
“It’s nothing big. The director wants to meet with you, Kang.”
Siheon’s name always appeared in the credits of tentpole films released during peak theater season—big-budget, profit-driven commercial movies.
But me? For an arthouse director?
Siheon asked, puzzled.
“You sure they didn’t mix up the names?”
“I checked multiple times.”
“I get doubting me, but doubting you too? Now I’m almost offended.”
“Hey, I always believe in you.”
CEO Heo waved his fountain pen, tracing Siheon’s face in the air.
“In Kang’s face value.”
A silly remark. Siheon downed a glass of water brought by the secretary. It was lukewarm and unappealing, but enough to settle his stomach.
“The script?”
“Here.”
CEO Heo stood, grabbed a thick script, and handed it over.
<Ignition> (Working Title)
Director: Pyo Wookjun
“I hate to say it just from the title, but it sounds like it’ll tank commercially and only win artistic praise.”
Sinking deep into the opposite sofa, CEO Heo nodded.
“Yep, it’s got that vibe. Still, a director of that caliber sending the script first isn’t common, right?”
“Have you read it?”
“Nope?”
“You’re awfully proud of that for a CEO.”
“I’m awfully busy as a CEO.”
Winking, CEO Heo clapped lightly.
“Let’s talk after you read it.”
Siheon had come with just a wallet, no bag. Looking around, he grabbed an eco-bag from a display of the agency’s idol merch—a group logo etched on it—and stuffed the script inside, asking,
“Can I say no after reading it?”
“I’d love for you to do it. I won’t force you if you hate it, but meeting’s non-negotiable. If you reject it, it’s on you to turn down Director Pyo without upsetting him.”
Siheon replied in a businesslike tone.
“Wow, so reassuring. This company.”
“That eco-bag’s reliable, though. Cost a pretty penny to make.”
Grinning, CEO Heo saw Siheon off. With a See you and a slight bow, Siheon left the office and waited for the elevator, rubbing his face. Exhaustion hit hard. What a rotten day from the start. Stretching his neck and shoulders to pull himself together, the elevator dinged.
The doors opened, and he locked eyes with a man.
“Well, who do we have here?”
The man scanned Siheon up and down, pursing his lips.
“Isn’t this the divorced Kang Siheon?”
Siheon sighed briefly.
“Long time no see, Byun Haewon.”
Byun Haewon.
A guy he’d gotten close to six years ago while filming Man to Man, a buddy movie about the unpredictable adventures of a rookie cop and a rookie gangster.
One of the few friends he kept in touch with personally over his long acting career.
“Well, well, he remembers my name? I thought you had an eraser in that head of yours.”
“No way.”
“Oh, really? Then why no calls?”
“No news is good news, right?”
“No news is gooood news?”
Haewon blocked the closing elevator doors with his foot and launched into a full-on grievance.
“Dude, if no news was good news, I wouldn’t be like this. Not a single call to say if you’re dead or alive, then bam—divorce news out of nowhere. I had to find out from an article?”
“What, should I send a mass text? ‘Hey, I’m getting divorced’?”
“Argh! That’s not it—there must’ve been a process leading up to it, right? Call me then, huh? Grab a drink or something. You friendless jerk. You suffered alone again, didn’t you?”
“Suffered? What am I, a dog or a cat? Stop talking nonsense and move.”
Pushing Haewon’s foot aside, Siheon stepped into the elevator and pressed the first-floor button. Haewon pressed it again to cancel, then hit the basement parking button.
“My manager’s down there. Come with me. Let’s grab a drink.”
“Why should I? I’m busy.”
“I checked with Manager Kangsan—you’ve got no schedule after this. I came here to nab you, man.”
That traitor Lee Kangsan. Siheon had even let him off early, and this was the payback? He vowed to make his life hell at work.
＊＊＊＊＊
“Man, this chicken’s killer. You really not drinking, Kang Siheon?”
Byun Haewon had barged into Siheon’s place with a ton of beer, claiming they needed to do a “divorce consolation drink” and a “housewarming.” He’d dragged Siheon along by the arm despite his protests—not quite abduction, but close enough.
When Siheon refused to punch in the door code, Haewon threatened to do a live drinking broadcast in front of the house—the first of its kind for a celebrity. Thinking it was a bluff, Siheon ignored him, only for Haewon to pull out his phone and actually start setting up a live stream.
Crazy bastard. Cursing, Siheon had no choice but to grab Haewon by the collar and haul him inside.
“I’m good with this.”
Siheon shook a cup of ice water. He planned to take a sleeping pill later, so alcohol was off the table.
“Hmm, fair. I hear a lot of people get hooked on drinking after a divorce. Don’t do it.”
Not knowing the full story, Haewon let it slide, setting aside an empty can and cracking open a new beer. His third already.
The beer was from the convenience store out front, bought by his manager. Opening the stash, Siheon saw it was all the brand Haewon endorsed. The takeout menu was chicken—also from a place he advertised. Whether it was the actor or the manager, their dedication to their craft was almost admirable.
“Why aren’t you eating the chicken?”
“Dieting.”
He had a print ad shoot coming up soon. Plus, his stomach was still off from earlier, and he didn’t like greasy food much anyway. Grilled whole chicken might’ve been different.
“One piece won’t make you fat.”
Desperate to feed him something, Haewon dangled a chicken piece in front of Siheon’s face.
“You eat plenty of the non-fattening stuff. I’ll stick to this.”
Hoping Haewon would back off if he ate something, Siheon tore open a bag of peanuts that came with the beer.
To break the silence, he turned on the TV, and an ad played.
Wash away your day.
A man smiled on the screen. A clear, refreshing smile that brightened the viewer too. Perfect Wash, Auto Open, Twin Wash… As the long slogan rolled, the man sitting by the washing machine grinned like the softest thing in the world.
“Is that washing machine really good? Mine’s due for a replacement.”
Haewon asked, tearing into a chicken wing. The clean-cut, crisp guy in the ad was none other than Siheon. The very CF he’d filmed in that vague sky blue, the one Cha Wonwoo had called about at dawn to passionately critique.
“Dunno. The brand sent one to the newlywed house, but I moved out before using it.”
His tone was detached, like he was talking about someone else.
“…”
“…”
Ads kept rolling—some flashy and sensory, some emotional, others random and puzzling.
After a while, Haewon asked,
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Siheon popped a peanut into his mouth and countered.
“Jerk, even when I worry about you.”
“Byun Haewon, plenty of people worry about me besides you. Don’t add to it—it’s heavy.”
“Who else? You’ve got no friends.”
“My fans.”
“…Bringing up fans is cheating, you jerk.”
Glaring at Siheon, Haewon took a huge bite of chicken, devouring a big piece of breast meat in one go and washing it down with a long swig of beer.
The third can emptied fast. Cracking a fourth, Haewon muttered an annoyed Ugh under his breath. Glancing at Siheon, he awkwardly patted his back. Thump, thump.
“Hey. You’ll, you’ll be fine.”
“Are you nuts? Why are you hitting me?”
“I’m… trying to comfort you, damn it.”
“Keep going, and you’ll snap my spine. You’re a dominant alpha—ease up on the strength.”