WGD Ch 3
by soapaAt first, he’d come out just to clear his head with the cold air, but as he watched, he found himself completely drawn in. If only there were a fireplace and some favorite music, it’d be perfect. He was humming a carol and enjoying the scenery when he heard it.
The sound of multiple footsteps echoed from beyond the corner. The rhythmic noise grew steadily closer.
“The chairman said to skip the reporting line and go straight through Secretary Baek. It’s tied to the CEO’s performance metrics, and there’s the share issue too…”
As they rounded the corner, Siheon saw there were at least five people. His eyes locked with the man at the front.
“…”
“…”
The deep blue suit emphasized a broad chest while tightly cinching the waist, creating a tense, striking design. His neatly swept-back hair revealed his brows, nose, and jawline, giving off a clean, masculine impression. With his upright posture and cold gaze exuding authority, the man was none other than Cha Wonwoo.
“…”
“…”
Siheon usually greeted people with a camera-ready smile, but now his body froze, unable to move.
Maybe it was the sudden flood of dominant alpha pheromones, or maybe just the presence before him.
“Why are you out here?”
A voice as cold as his expression flowed from Cha Wonwoo’s lips. His eyes scanned Siheon’s outfit with a slight flicker. A faint crack seemed to form on his otherwise flawless, porcelain-like face as he furrowed his brow.
“You’ve got a shoot soon.”
What was this?
It felt like he’d been abruptly kicked out from a cozy spot into the swirling snow outside. The blanket on his lap slid off with a soft rustle. A shiver ran through him as the cold hit, and Cha Wonwoo’s frown deepened.
“Secretary Yang, when does the shoot start?”
At Cha Wonwoo’s question, Secretary Yang, standing behind him, answered promptly.
“The timetable says they’ll start shooting in ten minutes.”
Even as she spoke, Cha Wonwoo’s gaze remained glued to Siheon, unwavering. As if he wouldn’t tolerate even ten minutes of rest, he stared at Siheon with displeasure and said,
“Let’s go in.”
It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a command. Coffee trucks, expensive catering, a food truck—did that mean “I’ve provided all this, so don’t rest, just work”? Figures. No way he’s my fan.
Bending to pick up the fallen blanket, Siheon composed his expression. The client’s king, the client’s king. Chanting it to himself, he stood and smiled.
“I was just about to head in.”
As he bowed slightly and moved first, Cha Wonwoo’s face softened a bit. Snorting inwardly, Siheon tilted his head in a gesture and returned to the waiting room.
His back prickled, but he didn’t look back.
The morning schedule wrapped up without a hitch. With the client himself present and watching, any delay could’ve sparked trouble.
From the junior staff to the director, the ad agency’s art director and employees, and Siheon—everyone worked in unison with a shared goal.
Lunchtime rolled around, and they ate. A rarity on set. And it wasn’t just any meal—the menu and taste were so exceptional it felt embarrassing to call it a “food truck.” They’d set up tables and chairs in an empty studio in Building A, so no one had to step outside.
Still, out of consideration, Siheon waited until most others were nearly done before heading to the studio.
Normally, if a celebrity ate first, it extended their downtime, leaving staff too rushed to rest properly while prepping. But if Siheon ate later and rested, it gave the crew even five extra minutes of breathing room to prepare.
Of course, during that time, Secretary Yang came by, asking persistently like a reporter: “Why aren’t you eating? Are you unwell? Did you catch a cold? Is the food not to your taste? Do you have a preferred dish or chef?”
“Wow, hyungnim, I thought I’d walked into an electronics store.”
Kang San marveled as he surveyed the studio turned dining hall. Siheon nodded in agreement. It seemed every heater from the set had been brought here, lined up neatly, making it almost too warm for the weather.
“The food’s still hot?”
On winter shoots, cold meals were the norm, but today was different. He didn’t gush like Kang San, but the warm food felt so good. He didn’t eat much, mindful of the shoot ahead.
After stopping by the coffee truck for some fan photos and grabbing a hot coffee, Siheon rested in the cozy waiting room. (While he’d been eating, a few more brand-new-looking heaters had appeared.)
Kang San stepped out at someone’s call.
With a full stomach and a warm back, drowsiness crept in. It was so toasty he regretted not getting an iced coffee.
Not long after, Kang San returned, poking his head through a half-open door.
“Hyungnim, we’ve got a problem.”
“What?”
“The wardrobe. The last shots today are the suit scenes, right? Bust shot to close-up. But it seems the wrong clothes got delivered. They sent them back this morning and asked for a new set by 2 PM, but there was a traffic accident on the way. Sixteen-car pile-up. It’s on the news.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“The snow slowed everyone down, so no major injuries. Anyway, the crash hasn’t been cleared, and with this weather, the roads are jammed. No passage.”
The snow and wind had stopped, but the piled snow and icy roads had stranded cars. After a moment’s thought, Siheon asked,
“Don’t I have a spare suit?”
“Not today. Oh, but we’ve got the fan meeting goodie set—hoodies and track pants, all sizes.”
No way they could shoot in that. Siheon stood, wrapping the blanket around himself.
Outside, an emergency meeting was in full swing in a corner of the set. The director, art director, and agency staff greeted Siheon with apologetic faces.
“We called every stylist, sponsor, and designer we know, but it’s awards season—there’s no spare wardrobe.”
“The team that finally sourced something has been stuck on the road for over two hours. What do we do?”
They were racking their brains and stomping their feet when—
Screech.
The heavy, stiff set door swung open, and Cha Wonwoo strode in with Secretary Yang, irritation etched on his face.
“I got the report. There’s an issue with the wardrobe?”
The client’s arrival drained the color from the ad team’s faces.
As they explained, Siheon stole glances at the man. To avoid eye contact, he adjusted the blanket on his shoulders and moved as if cold.
The more he did, the more Cha Wonwoo’s expression froze like the weather outside.
“I don’t need to hear more. I get it.”
Raising a hand to cut off their excuses, Cha Wonwoo called Secretary Yang.
“Contact every brand in the Stella luxury store and have them send all clothes in Kang Siheon’s size. To CH headquarters.”
Not here? Siheon wasn’t the only one confused—everyone looked puzzled.
Only Secretary Yang understood, though she double-checked.
“You mean from headquarters to here…”
Not wanting a second’s delay, Cha Wonwoo snapped,
“Launch the helicopter.”
The sudden turn left everyone dumbfounded.
“Yes, I’ll handle it immediately.”
Only Secretary Yang moved swiftly. With a polite reply, she stepped out with her work phone.
“Well… thanks to you, CEO, we’re saved. Thank you.”
The remaining staff snapped out of it, expressing gratitude to the man who’d resolved the crisis. They hailed him like a savior, ready to start a cult.
Despite the fervent thanks pouring in, Cha Wonwoo’s face remained unchanged. He turned silently to Siheon. Their eyes met discreetly through the crowd.
“…”
“…?”
Unless he’d seen it wrong, it was a look seeking praise. Childish eyes that didn’t match the dignified, cool-headed man.
Thinking he’d misread it, Siheon blinked slowly. Unable to wait, Cha Wonwoo abruptly turned away. What the— The cold reaction swallowed Siheon’s thanks back down.
＊＊＊＊＊
“Oh, but…”
Amid the praise for the client, the art director spoke cautiously.
“Does it fit the concept to dress him in luxury? We’re so grateful to you, CEO, but…”
He didn’t shy from stating his opinion.
“What we want to show is a young, healthy, customer-friendly image. Keywords like ‘start,’ ‘companion,’ ‘support,’ ‘closeness.’ Unless it’s a premium strategy, a mid-20s guy in luxury might not… I wonder if it’ll convey what we intended.”
The director nodded.
“True, these days people analyze every outfit—brand and all. Better to avoid any chatter from the start.”
It was a fair point, but everyone worried about upsetting the client. Siheon stepped forward.
“Then let’s keep the CEO’s wardrobe as Plan B and brainstorm other options. The helicopter will take time anyway.”
With a picture-perfect smile, Siheon sought Cha Wonwoo’s input.
“What do you think, CEO?”
Cha Wonwoo nodded with a stoic expression.
“Do as you please.”
He sat on a chair far enough to let the staff discuss freely.
Even a rickety steel folding chair from the set looked like a modern prop under Cha Wonwoo.
As he crossed his legs, the tailored pant hem rose slightly, revealing a black-socked ankle. Unlike his bold features, his ankle traced a subtle curve. Following that line down, a prominent ankle bone stole the eye.
“How about this?”
Unconsciously licking his lips, Siheon snapped his head toward the voice. Flashing a habitual smile, he focused on the agency staff’s conversation.
“Thinking about it, the security guards and Secretary Yang are in suits. Couldn’t we borrow one for the shoot?”
“What about sizing?”
“It’s a front bust shot to a close-up of the actor’s smile, so we can pin it in the back.”
“I think it’s fine. Better to try something than do nothing.”
“But isn’t a guard’s uniform too stiff? It’s formal, sure, but too rigid… The all-black bothers me too.”
“Then Secretary Yang’s?”
Just then, an oblivious Secretary Yang returned from her call and approached Cha Wonwoo to report.
“As you instructed, it’s handled. The brands promised full cooperation. The clothes will leave via the headquarters’ support helicopter once they arrive.”
Several agency staff swarmed her to plead their case. No matter the situation, Secretary Yang handled people without flinching.
“Is there something you need?”
“Well, you see…”
After their explanation, she glanced at Cha Wonwoo’s expression before replying.
“If I can help.”
With a determined look, she began unbuttoning her jacket when—
“Wait.”
A low voice halted her. All eyes, tense with anticipation, turned to Cha Wonwoo.
“Use mine.”
It was unexpected. When they’d planned to borrow a suit, everyone had mentioned only Secretary Yang or the guards—Cha Wonwoo hadn’t even been in the equation.
Who’d dare ask the CH Group heir to strip?
But they couldn’t ignore a client stepping up either. The art director took the lead.
“Won’t your clothes be too luxurious, CEO?”
They were avoiding luxury, and the CEO’s outfit was… Sensing the unspoken, Cha Wonwoo’s face darkened noticeably. Secretary Yang jumped in tactfully.
“The CEO’s suit is bespoke, so there’s no brand to misidentify. The tailor’s signature embroidery is inside the fabric—unnoticeable unless pointed out.”
Though made of fine material, the jacket and dress shirt, suited for an office worker, weren’t flashy. The design emphasized sharp shoulders and a slim waist, blending classic and modern with a blue hue. On its own, it matched the trust-focused bank ad vibe.
As the art director and director hashed it out, Siheon texted Kang San.
<
Lee Kang San
Kang San-ah…
Typing quickly and sending it, Kang San replied with an “Understood” almost instantly. Siheon smiled, satisfied, and pocketed his phone.
“Then let’s proceed with the CEO’s clothes.”
With the agency’s confirmation, the crew sprang into action. A staffer shouted,
“The final cut’s at the horizon, so check for dust or scratches. We’ll start once the wardrobe’s ready!”
Everyone moved diligently. The stylist approached Cha Wonwoo hesitantly.
“Uh, but CEO, what will you wear…?”
As stylist Subin pointed out, lending Siheon his clothes left Cha Wonwoo without a change.
In the awkward moment, Cha Wonwoo casually nodded toward Siheon’s blanket.
“I’ll wrap that around me.”
“My… blanket?”
It’d be free once shooting started, so he could hand it over. But Siheon couldn’t forget the earlier glare that wouldn’t even grant him ten minutes of rest.
“It’s my attachment blanket, so this won’t do.”
Sensing the refusal, Cha Wonwoo’s face clouded.
“I’ve got something good instead—here, take it.”
Continuing with a kind expression, Cha Wonwoo’s face brightened again.
Siheon felt a bit thrown. Was he just sensitive to dominant alphas as a recessive omega, or was this guy intentionally projecting? He caught every subtle shift, though others seemed oblivious.
“Hyungnim! Brought it!”
Kang San burst through the heavy set door, holding up an unopened package and shouting. His voice boomed across the studio, drawing every busy eye.
Back from the van, Kang San’s nose was red from the cold. Patting his arm for his effort, Siheon took the item and handed it to Cha Wonwoo.
“Our agency CEO’s obsessed with goodies. Made these in all sizes for a fan meeting. Kept them just in case, and now they’re coming in handy. If you’re okay with it, you can wear them.”
Inside the clear plastic was a neatly folded light purple hoodie set. A fan club goodie that had gotten a huge response.
On the chest, in yellow: Si♡Honey. Inside the heart, Siheon’s character grinned wide, surrounded by cute bees trailing dotted lines as they flew—searching for their Sihoney.
The pants were plain light purple track pants, with small floral embroidery on the left thigh, balancing simplicity and charm.
“…”
The set fell silent in an instant. Everyone stopped, staring at the CH Group heir. He stood there, glaring at the clothes like he’d burn a hole through them.
To lighten the mood, Siheon teased,
“My arm’s getting tired—are you just gonna keep staring?”
Cha Wonwoo’s expression shifted subtly again. Without further hesitation, he took the clothes with a large, flawless hand.
“I’ll wear them well.”
Whatever training he’d had, CEO Cha Wonwoo didn’t forget polite thanks even in this situation.
Not an easy one.
Hiding his thoughts, Siheon kindly pointed to the door.
“Let’s go change together.”
There was a waiting room but no dressing room, so they’d have to turn their backs and change.
Cha Wonwoo shed his jacket and tie, unbuttoning his shirt without pause. As he undid the last button and peeled off the dress shirt, his shoulder blades and lats flexed dynamically, muscles standing out beautifully. Soon, the sensual upper body vanished into the cute light purple hoodie.
Before Siheon could feel disappointed, a click of a belt unbuckling and a zip echoed provocatively in the quiet room. Each leg lift into the track pants revealed deep thigh muscles.
When his solid frame was fully cloaked in the adorable fan club gear, a realization hit Siheon.
It’s a bust shot—did he need to change the pants?
＊＊＊＊＊
But neither the man who’d openly changed nor Siheon voiced it aloud.
“…”
“…”
Cha Wonwoo gathered his discarded clothes and turned. Siheon scanned him from head to toe.
Twenty-four, was it?
Dressed like that, he finally looked his age. His neatly swept-back hair had loosened while changing, a few strands falling over his forehead.
“Here.”
Handing over his clothes, Cha Wonwoo’s face was as neutral as if passing a signed document—save for his reddened ears.
As he stepped closer, his scent, cologne, and dominant alpha pheromones hit Siheon all at once.
“Of all my fans, you’re the handsomest, CEO.”
“What’s that supposed to—”
Snickering, Siheon pointed at his chest. Cha Wonwoo fumbled at the heart area with his large hand, turning away in rare fluster.
“Hurry and change. We’ve got a shoot.”
“You really hate slacking off, huh?”
No reply came from the turned-back Cha Wonwoo. Siheon gave a perfunctory “I’ll wear it well” and quickly changed. The rustling was loud in his haste. Buttoning the shirt, he stared blankly at Cha Wonwoo’s broad back.
Why’s he just standing there, not even sitting properly? His ears, redder than before, stood out. Is he shy? From a good family, with good traits—he could play around with anyone if he wanted. No way. Wait. As CH Group’s heir, maybe he couldn’t afford to mess around carelessly.
“Done changing. You can turn around.”
At Siheon’s words, Cha Wonwoo turned like a robot given a command.
In acting, exposure was routine. Changing in front of others was common. But borrowing someone’s clothes—especially an alpha’s, and not even a lover’s—was a first, so it felt unavoidably awkward. Plus, being wrapped in Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones from the outfit made it ticklishly unfamiliar.
Siheon acted nonchalant and called for stylist Subin, waiting outside. She entered with a handful of pins.
“Let me check the shirt fit first.”
Approaching, Subin hesitated despite her words, fumbling with his waistband several times.
“What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s just… I’ve handled most luxury brands.”
She glanced toward Cha Wonwoo.
“This outfit’s beyond comparison—insanely expensive. And one-of-a-kind… Pinning holes in it feels… overwhelming, you know?”
In short, her hands were trembling too much to pin it.
Usually, wardrobe mishaps came out of a stylist’s pocket, but at Sori Entertainment, the company covered it. She knew that. Still, faced with something of immeasurable value, she felt small. One mistake, and the receipt sent to the company could have an absurd number of zeros.
“Hey, why worry about that?”
Siheon was about to reassure her—say he’d handle it with CEO Heo if needed—when—
“Give it to me.”
Cha Wonwoo cut in.
“Huh?”
Startled, Subin asked again, and Cha Wonwoo repeated clearly,
“I’ll do it, so hand it over.”
Flustered, Subin’s eyes darted around.
“You can do it, CEO? Oh, I don’t mean to doubt you!”
As her empty excuses dragged on, Cha Wonwoo’s brow creased, signaling strained patience. Siheon stepped in.
“Subin, it’s his clothes, so let him handle it. He’ll take responsibility. Pass it here.”
Taking the pin container, Siheon handed it to Cha Wonwoo. Whether intentional or not, Cha Wonwoo’s fingers brushed Siheon’s as he took it, sparking a fleeting heat.
“Yes, I’ll take responsibility.”
His deep gaze lingered on Siheon’s face, rooting there.
“Uh, well… I’ll step out then. Call if you need me!”
Unable to bear the stifling air, Subin bolted out.
Meanwhile, thinking the crisis was over, the staff had put on music—carols faintly seeped through the door.
“…”
“…”
The two stood silently, facing each other. Then Siheon turned with a playful warning.
“Don’t stab me. My body’s my fortune.”
Through the full-length mirror ahead, he saw Cha Wonwoo approach from behind. Bending down, he carefully tugged Siheon’s shirt.
Thick bones, broad shoulders, sturdy chest—Cha Wonwoo’s shirt, embodying dominant alpha traits, was roomy even on Siheon, who kept fit with regular exercise.
The waist could be shaped decently, but the chest area hung noticeably loose.
“CEO.”
Cha Wonwoo, cautiously pinning the waist to avoid pricking him, glanced up at Siheon’s face.
“The chest needs tightening.”
At Siheon’s words, he immediately pulled harder. The dress shirt stretched taut, accentuating Siheon’s well-toned chest muscles in a graceful curve. Wearing nothing underneath, the crisp fabric grazed his nipples as it tightened.
“Uh, loosen it a bit. It’s too tight now.”
Hiding an embarrassed look, Siheon asked calmly. Cha Wonwoo eased his grip and tilted his head for feedback.
“Like this?”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Bowing his head again, Cha Wonwoo slowly secured the pins. Even Siheon, used to tailored suits for his job, found the CEO’s clothes daunting. Yet the shirt’s owner seemed unbothered by potential damage.
“What’s the name of the person who made this? You said it’s a famous craftsman—must have a long waitlist.”
Tossing out a random question to ease the awkwardness, Cha Wonwoo answered promptly.
“There’s a tailor in London’s Savile Row who’s served only nobility for over three hundred years. John Seymour. I had it made by him.”
Unlike with others, his tone was subtly softer, rounder.
“I should get one made someday. Classic suits like this never go out of style. Good to have for the long haul.”
“Not just anyone can book him.”
Still as blunt as ever.
It wasn’t like Siheon was seriously planning to visit this John Seymour—or Smore, whatever. Just small talk. But Cha Wonwoo doused it coldly, adding without looking up, focused on pinning,
“It’s possible with my name.”
Like a kid bragging, “Look how great I am.” The youthful remark made Siheon chuckle. Maybe it was the bee-adorned hoodie making him seem a bit cute.
It was like a male peacock flaunting its vibrant feathers. Serious to him, but amusingly charming to others. Here, Cha Wonwoo’s “feathers” were his status—wealth, connections, that sort of thing.
Siheon teased without missing a beat,
“Then can I get one made under your name?”
And Cha Wonwoo outdid him.
“If you marry me.”
The casual tone delivered a bombshell, making Siheon think his ears had malfunctioned.
“Immediate family can do that.”
Finished pinning, Cha Wonwoo lifted his head and met Siheon’s eyes through the mirror.
“…”
“…”
Instead of telling him to turn, he meticulously scanned Siheon’s reflection from top to bottom.
Dark eyes, smoldering with embers, roamed his body. Neck, rounded shoulders, chest, waist, thighs, calves, ankles, shoes—then back up, retracing the path like a flame climbing.
As if Siheon were both the destination and the endpoint.
“…”
“…”
For a moment, Cha Wonwoo’s gaze wavered, then fixed solely on Siheon.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.
Carols leaked through the door, filling the silence between them.
One step. Closing the gap by exactly one step, Cha Wonwoo brushed Siheon’s waist as if adjusting his clothes one last time.
Dominant alpha pheromones surged deep into his lungs. Siheon couldn’t call it out—he’d assume Siheon was a beta. He inhaled slowly, keeping it subtle.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.
The singer’s voice was sweet, the cheerful bells vibrant. His heart began beating to the clear, rhythmic handbell tune.
This is a mess.
＊＊＊＊＊
Siheon lowered his eyes, pretending to check his own clothes. The heat that had started in his fingertips had spread to his chest. Perhaps it had bloomed everywhere the man’s gaze had touched.
Brushing off nonexistent dust, Siheon said, “It’ll be tough on you if you marry me. I’m quite high-maintenance.”
“Do it.”
Surprised by the unexpected answer, Siheon glanced up. Cha Wonwoo, who had been persistently staring at him, spoke in a confident voice, “I have enough money to cover any maintenance costs.”
Should he find it impressive or scary that a truly rich person would say such a thing? Thinking that he couldn’t even joke freely, Siheon casually nodded. “Then I’ll consider it.”
Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones intensified. Siheon couldn’t understand why he was emitting them so strongly. Forcing his dry throat open, he gestured toward the door with his chin. “Shall we go out now? People are waiting.”
He was confused whether his heart was pounding because of Cha Wonwoo or simply because of the pheromones.
His mind was a mess. With all signals extinguished, his unruly thoughts raced without order. The last shred of his reason flashed warning lights and rang alarm bells.
Thump. His heart dropped to his stomach and shot back up.
Damn it.
For whatever reason, the fact that he felt this way towards this man wouldn’t change. A wry smile touched Siheon’s lips as he passed through the waiting room door Cha Wonwoo held open for him.
Fortunately, the photoshoot wrapped up smoothly. Siheon posed once in Cha Wonwoo’s suit and again in a more conventional suit that arrived later. They decided to choose between the two after seeing the pre-edited versions.
The final result was the actor’s responsibility, so all he could do was offer his thanks. After thanking the staff who were cleaning up, he walked out to find Cha Wonwoo waiting for him, accompanied by his bodyguard.
“Take everything.”
The bodyguards’ hands were full of shopping bags that had been brought from Paju, presumably by helicopter. Before Siheon could protest, Secretary Yang positioned Kang San, Siheon’s manager, and directed the bodyguards to carry the bags to the van.
“I don’t think I can even wear all of this,” Siheon muttered as he watched. Cha Wonwoo replied as if it were nothing, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t wear them.”
It looks like it matters. He could tell just by looking at Cha Wonwoo standing there with his arms crossed, hawk-eyed, supervising the loading of the shopping bags. Glancing at him, Siheon offered a polite response, “Of course I’ll wear them. Someone gave them to me. I’ll wear them well.”
“……Whatever.”
As soon as the luggage was loaded, Cha Wonwoo turned and walked away. His lavender hoodie set receded into the distance. He hadn’t even bothered to put on the coat Secretary Yang offered him, despite the chill.
“Of all places, why there?” Siheon frowned, holding his phone. Byeon Haewon’s whiny voice continued, recounting how he’d been caught in a scandal for simply being in the same hotel as a singer he’d never met. Siheon clicked his tongue. “Tell your boyfriend what you just told me. Preferably while crying.”
—If I cry, he’ll think I’m faking it!
“That’s an actor’s fate. What can you do?”
—Easy for you to say. Just wait until you’re in my shoes, Kang Siheon. We’ll see if you can still say that.
“Unfortunately, that’ll never happen. I’m not going to date.”
—It’s always the guys who say that who end up dating like crazy.
After a few more words of advice to Byeon Haewon, Siheon ended the call and put on his reading glasses. The script for his upcoming drama was spread across the living room table.
Kang Siheon was the epitome of someone who learned about love from books. Because of his secondary gender, he couldn’t date anyone, and his extensive “dating experience” was solely built on dramas and movies.
‘It’s always the guys who say that who end up dating like crazy.’
The reason Cha Wonwoo’s face flashed through his mind when he heard those words was probably because of the clothes piled neatly in his dressing room.
CEO Huh had said that the advertising agency would treat him well, and the company would also express their gratitude, so he shouldn’t worry too much. But Siheon thought differently. He felt it was wrong for him, the recipient of dozens of luxury suits, to remain silent.
He rolled his pen between his fingers, pondering what to do.
Inviting him to a meal seemed the most natural, right? He worried it might seem like a romantic advance, but since Cha Wonwoo believed he was a Beta, it shouldn’t matter, right? Then he remembered that there were quite a few celebrities, even Betas, who had sponsors. He could be mistaken for soliciting a sponsorship.
Even if that wasn’t the case, someone in Cha Wonwoo’s position, the heir to a large corporation, would have countless people trying to meet him and become friends with him under various pretenses. He might even find it annoying.
But there was something Siheon desperately wanted to confirm.
He put down his pen, placed his hand over his heart, and focused on the sensation in his palm. His heartbeat was regular and calm, as if the palpitations that day had been a mere illusion.
Was it a pheromone reaction? Or had he actually fallen for that guy? He was curious. He could find out for sure if he met Cha Wonwoo after taking medication to lower his pheromone sensitivity.
So, first, he needed to make an appointment.
Just then, a text message arrived from an unknown number.
<
[Unknown Sender]
Me dinner
What? What kind of unique self-introduction was this? Was he saying he was dinner? Puzzled by the nonsensical message, Siheon tilted his head.
There were often strange messages from fans who somehow got his number. This seemed like one of those cases. He had blocked hundreds of numbers like this.
Buzz—
Just as Siheon’s finger was about to press “Block this Sender,” the phone started ringing. He pressed the answer button purely by accident. Startled by the sudden connection, Siheon instinctively brought the phone to his ear.
“…….”
—…….
The other party was also silent, perhaps surprised that he’d answered. He expected to hear, “Oppa!”, “Hyung!” or “Is this really Kang Siheon?” but the other side was quiet.
A pervert or a stalker. Those who called and just breathed heavily. They were even harder to deal with than fans.
He sensed danger and was about to hang up discreetly when a stiff voice stopped him.
—Hello.
Siheon pulled the phone away from his cheek and narrowed his eyes. He wondered if the voice he just heard belonged to the person he knew. Naturally, the screen still displayed an unknown number.
—Are you there?
The low, deep voice was unmistakably Cha Wonwoo’s. Siheon immediately replied, “Yes, I’m listening. But why are you calling…?”
He trailed off, and after a short pause, Cha Wonwoo inhaled deeply and replied, —Buy me dinner, please.
His tone was solemn and serious, as if he were challenging him to a duel. Siheon felt that if he asked him to repeat himself, Cha Wonwoo would jump out of the phone and chop off his perfectly good ears.
—Or I can buy you dinner, it doesn’t matter.
The other party added after a long silence. Siheon quickly straightened his posture. He couldn’t miss this golden opportunity that had landed in his lap.
“No, I’ll treat you. You helped me out last time.”
And so, his first date with Cha Wonwoo was set.
＊＊＊＊＊
“Welcome. Please follow me.”
The staff member opened the door leading to the VIP hallway. Siheon cleared his throat and stepped forward. He had chosen the restaurant for his dinner with Cha Wonwoo.
It was a fine dining establishment run by a Korean chef who had worked at a three-Michelin-starred restaurant near Lake Garda in Italy. It was so popular these days that reservations were booked solid for a year.
If it weren’t for the mentor-mentee relationship he had formed with the chef during a drama shoot, he wouldn’t have been able to reserve a private room, let alone a table in the open hall.
Led to the end of the hallway, Siheon’s eyes widened at the sight of Secretary Yang standing there. He himself had arrived ten minutes earlier than the appointed time, but it seemed Cha Wonwoo was already there.
“Hello. Mr. Cha is inside. He asked me to check if you had arrived.”
Secretary Yang explained why he had been standing by the door. It implied that he’d thought Siheon might not show up. Before the restaurant staff could open the door, Secretary Yang knocked and announced Siheon’s arrival.
“Mr. Cha, actor Kang Siheon is here.”
The inside suddenly became noisy after the polite announcement. A moment later, the wooden sliding door glided smoothly along its track.
＊＊＊＊＊
Cha Wonwoo, his large frame almost filling the doorway, appeared with a flushed face. An anxious gaze swept down Siheon, taking in his face and the suit he was wearing, undoubtedly one of the ones he had given him.
Relief bloomed on Cha Wonwoo’s face, replacing the anxiety. It was the first time Siheon had seen him smile so brightly.
The corners of Cha Wonwoo’s eyes softened.
As if relieved that he had come.
＊＊＊＊＊
Recalling the same memory from four years ago, the two men were immersed in the emotions it evoked. It felt like it hadn’t been long, yet at the same time, the memory seemed incredibly distant.
Siheon stared blankly downwards, then glanced at Cha Wonwoo’s left ring finger. The spot where his wedding ring used to be. Today, it held a Stellan’s signet ring, the same model as Siheon’s. Even the lack of a personal engraving was identical.
Sensing Siheon’s gaze, Cha Wonwoo subtly hid his hand and said, “I went to Immortalità last week. For a meeting.”
Immortalità. The Italian word for immortality flowed from Cha Wonwoo’s tongue, creating a melody. The restaurant Siheon had chosen, the place where they had their first meal together.
“They changed the seasonal menu to veal sweetbreads. It was incredibly tender and delicious. You should try it if you have a chance.”
He knew Siheon only went to places like that for dates. Siheon, seeing through the transparent remark, didn’t respond and changed the subject. “I’m tired, I should get going. I think I’ve made my appearance sufficiently.”
“Me too.”
As Siheon stood up, having gathered his things, Cha Wonwoo also sprang to his feet.
“Why? You can stay longer.”
“No, I’m a little tired too.”
“…Alright, then.”
There was nothing he could say if Cha Wonwoo claimed to be tired. He gave a cursory goodbye and slipped away. A few people stopped him with disappointed looks, but Cha Wonwoo’s chilling expression made them postpone their conversations.
Meanwhile, Secretary Yang went down to prepare the car, and Siheon had already texted Kang San separately. In the end, only the two of them boarded the large VIP elevator.
Cha Wonwoo pressed the button and then leaned down, resting his head on Siheon’s shoulder as if hugging him from behind. “I’ll just stay like this for a moment. I’m drunk.”
A husky voice whispered in his ear, so close that it made his hairs stand on end.
“Drunk? And you know your head is incredibly heavy, right?”
“Maybe because I’m drunk. I can’t hear you very well.”
A common topic on educational programs was ‘How efficient is an Alpha’s alcohol metabolism?’ It was a regular segment, especially during the year-end party season and holidays when alcohol consumption increased.
As a dominant Alpha, Cha Wonwoo would also have a fast metabolism, preventing his blood alcohol level from rising easily. He had never seen him drunk while they lived together. Yet, he was shamelessly pretending to be drunk.
Siheon looked up to check the CCTV. Mr. Cha, raised as a precious son of a chaebol family, wouldn’t care, but as a celebrity, worrying about leaks was an occupational hazard. Of course, even if it were leaked, Mr. Cha would take care of it.
The wealthy Mr. Cha mumbled petulantly, “I wish it would go down slowly.”
“You said you were tired. It’s better to get home early and rest.”
“……Still.”
Contrary to his wishes, the elevator quickly reached the private parking area. As the doors opened, Secretary Yang and Kang San were waiting with their respective cars.
As if by accident, Cha Wonwoo brushed his lips against the back of Siheon’s neck as he straightened up. When Siheon didn’t react, he spoke in a dejected voice, “You go first, hyung.”
As if it were his duty, he gently placed his hand on Siheon’s back and guided him towards the van.
“Okay, I’ll go first. Good work today.”
Siheon deliberately spoke in a casual tone, as if talking to a fellow actor. Cha Wonwoo furrowed his brows. Annoyance was evident in the deep crease between his eyebrows and the slightly upturned corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, you too, hyung. Get some rest.”
He forced down his annoyance and closed the car door for Siheon, taking Kang San’s place.
“See you soon,” he said, leaving an ominous farewell.
No, what ‘see you soon’? Why see each other again? Before he could ask, Kang San stepped on the accelerator. Glancing back, he saw Cha Wonwoo shrinking in the distance.
He remained there, watching the departing car, not moving from his spot.
For a long time. Alone.
＊＊＊＊＊
A dull headache pressed against his forehead and eyeballs. It was from lack of sleep.
The further away he was from Cha Wonwoo, the worse his insomnia became. Siheon shook his head as if to shake off the pain and leaned it against the window.
“Hyungnim, I don’t think this is working. When we get to the company, I’ll talk to the CEO about postponing your comeback. You don’t have any projects lined up yet, so it’s okay to rest a bit longer, right?”
Kang San’s voice was filled with concern as he drove towards the hospital for Siheon’s appointment.
“This is the time when I’m getting the most attention because of the divorce. I have to do it now. Later, no one will care. Strike while the iron is hot.”
He had received alimony and his share of the assets, but he couldn’t rest forever. He thought that being busy on set with other people might allow him to be normal, at least for that time.
“Did you schedule a meeting with Director Pyo?”
“Yes, a week from today. You have a print ad shoot the day after tomorrow, and the director isn’t available after that. So, the earliest we could schedule it was next week.”
“Got it. Just in case, send me the details in a text message too.”
“Okay.”
Whether he was reading the script, exercising, or showering, Cha Wonwoo would suddenly come to mind. To be precise, things like his face, his body temperature, his scent.
In those moments, he felt like he could sleep. Of course, as soon as he lay in bed, the sleepiness vanished.
“We’ve arrived.”
Siheon got out of the car, which had been parked discreetly to avoid attention, and pulled his hat low, covering his face with a mask.
“Go grab some food or take a nap.”
“Yessir~”
He planned to discuss with Director Yoo Yeon-oh about how to fall asleep without Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones. He intended to avoid Cha Wonwoo as much as possible from now on, so he needed to get used to life without his pheromones.
“You’re here.”
As he opened the door to the counseling room, Director Yoo Yeon-oh and the comfortable atmosphere welcomed him. The warm-toned wallpaper and table, soft chairs, small cushions for leaning against or hugging, and even aroma scents for those sensitive to smells.
After a consultation similar to usual, Siheon cautiously brought up the topic of Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones and his sleep disorder. Director Yoo pressed the tip of his silent pen against the paper and carefully began, “As you know, Siheon, pheromone issues are similar to other illnesses. They are greatly affected by stress. Medication is merely supplementary, and fundamentally, psychological stability is paramount. Is your ex-husband experiencing similar symptoms?”
The word the man used bothered him. It took him a while to get used to the words boyfriend and husband, and now it was ex-husband. The word, changed by the flow of time, had arrived at ex-husband, the end of a relationship. Siheon chewed over the difficult word and slowly opened his lips. “He seems to have trouble sleeping, but I don’t know if it’s due to pheromones or because he’s busy with work.”
“Hmm…. It’s highly likely that your ex-husband’s sleep disorder stems from the same issue. Pheromone instability is a common symptom experienced by divorced couples. However, in your case, Siheon, your levels fluctuate quite significantly. There’s a considerable difference between your previous records and the levels observed after your visits here. You recently took medication to lower your pheromone sensitivity, right?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s avoid that medication until your body recovers.”
Feeling suffocated, Siheon tugged at the collar of his shirt. Anxiety crept in. He felt safer taking that medication when he was in places with many secondary gendered individuals. As he was contemplating how he would manage future filming, Director Yoo brought up a more serious matter.
“And you will take suppressants during your heat cycle, right?”
Taking suppressants was a given if he wasn’t going to spend his heat cycle with an Alpha. That’s how he had lived until he met Cha Wonwoo.
“Yes, I have to.”
As soon as his answer fell, Director Yoo spoke firmly, as if waiting for it. “In your current state, you cannot take suppressants. They won’t be effective.”
＊＊＊＊＊
Siheon squeezed his knees in a panic.
“Then, then… what can I do?”
“For now, don’t worry too much, as there’s still time until your heat cycle. Until then, let’s monitor your pheromone levels and focus on stabilizing them.”
Director Yoo jotted something down on the chart and added, “Given the circumstances, please get a chip implanted before you leave.”
“A chip?”
Siheon’s face paled at the word “chip.” In a world where various chips were commonplace, there might be some slight aversion to having something inserted into the body, but there was no need for such a strong reaction. Director Yoo carefully observed Siheon’s sudden change and replied, “There’s no need to be alarmed. It’s a chip that tracks your pheromone levels in real time.”
Siheon pulled his hat lower to hide his expression and asked, “So, it won’t affect my body or anything like that?”
“No, it’s not that kind of chip. It only records the amount of pheromones in your body.”
“Then it’s fine.”
“However, Siheon, you must avoid exposure to other people’s pheromones as much as possible. This includes other Omegas. Especially aggressive pheromones, as we don’t know how your stimulated body might react. I’m not saying this lightly.”
You really must be careful. Director Yoo emphasized it several times, as if to instill a sense of caution. But pheromone issues were similar to traffic accidents. Even if one was careful, danger couldn’t always be avoided.
Siheon nodded repeatedly as if taking the advice to heart. A reflexive action. Director Yoo took note of this and signaled the end of the consultation. “You can go out now and head to the treatment room. Get the chip implanted and then you can leave.”
“Okay, thank you.”
The chip insertion didn’t take long and wasn’t as painful as he’d imagined. He only felt a stinging sensation, like being pinched. However, despite the minimal discomfort, it felt like he had a time bomb inside him. He touched the slightly swollen part of his forearm through his clothes, trying to calm his anxiety, but the inexplicable unease persisted until he arrived at the company.
Kang San, who was heading towards the artist’s entrance with him, paused at the sound of a text message and checked his phone.
“Oh, the CEO asked me to get him something to drink from the cafe on the first floor. Do you want to go up first, hyungnim?”
“Yeah, don’t get me anything.”
Siheon watched Kang San head towards the opposite entrance where the cafe was located, then placed his finger on the fingerprint scanner. Inside, a long, dimly lit hallway stretched out. The walls on both sides were decorated with photos of the agency’s artists, illuminated by indirect lighting. The left side displayed profiles of the actors, while the right side featured the singers.
Siheon’s face always flushed when he walked through this hallway. Why would they display them in a corridor used by the artists themselves instead of the main lobby for public viewing?
Moreover, as if eager to boast about having witnessed the ‘Growth of Actor Kang Siheon,’ they had displayed his photos from his child actor days alongside his recent profile, while others only had their latest photos up. And his were the largest. When the photos were first put up, he was so embarrassed that he asked them to at least take his down, but CEO Huh, in a show of defiance, had replaced them with even bigger ones.
What a personality.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. CEO Huh called just then.
—Kang Siheon, where are you?
“First floor. I’m about to get on the elevator.”
—Okay. Confirmed.
“Are you coming down to meet me?”
—Don’t be ridiculous.
“No, I just heard the sound of a door closing.”
—That wasn’t me coming out, it was me leaving. Someone else, not me. Anyway, come up carefully.
It was strange for him to rush him like this, as he usually didn’t. Siheon tilted his head and hung up, stepping into the elevator. The town board inside displayed videos showcasing the recent activities of the agency’s artists.
Ah, they must be making a comeback. He watched the comeback teaser of a labelmate idol group about to release a new album and unconsciously rubbed the area where the chip had been implanted. The elevator arrived at the floor where the CEO’s office was located.
As the doors opened with a ding, a familiar scent, one that shouldn’t be here, wafted towards him. Siheon abruptly lifted his head.
“You….”
Beyond the open elevator doors, the person who shouldn’t be here was standing there, answering a phone call. It was Cha Wonwoo. He saw Siheon, quickly ended the call with a “I’ll call you back later,” and approached.
“Hyung, you’re here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d see you soon.”
He answered nonchalantly. The words he’d heard in the parking lot after the Stellan’s event flashed through Siheon’s mind.
‘See you soon.’
Was today that ‘soon’? And at his company, no less.
Stunned by the unexpected situation, he just stared blankly. Cha Wonwoo slipped his foot between the closing elevator doors.
“What are you doing? Come out.”
He had to get out, so he did, but the bewilderment lingered. He was about to ask again why Cha Wonwoo was there when he was beaten to it.
“You’re back from your appointment? What did the doctor say?”
His voice was gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity. Suddenly, a memory from the past played in Siheon’s mind without warning.
‘Are you done? What did the doctor say? I wish I could have gone in with you.’
It was a day when he wasn’t feeling well and had gone to the hospital. Cha Wonwoo had been waiting anxiously in front of the examination room, probably having rushed over after being informed. Anxious eyes scanned every inch of Siheon. His body, tense throughout the examination, relaxed involuntarily whenever Cha Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze touched him.
‘It was nothing serious. He told me to take my vitamins. That’s all.’
Letting out a sigh of relief, Cha Wonwoo hugged Siheon. He buried his nose in his neck and inhaled, whispering in a muffled voice, ‘Hyung, can you cut back on work a little?’
Siheon patted Cha Wonwoo’s back as if soothing a large child.
‘I’ve mostly been doing commercials since we got married. If I cut back on even this, the fans will be really upset.’
Cha Wonwoo silently nuzzled his face against Siheon’s shoulder. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could picture his sulky expression. Siheon switched hands and gently stroked his back.
‘Shall we get something delicious? I’ll treat you.’
Even though he wasn’t a child, Siheon often appeased him with food. He knew Cha Wonwoo was a picky eater, yet he acted as if food would solve everything. And Cha Wonwoo would play along.
‘I made a reservation at an expensive place, is that okay?’
His mood instantly brightened as soon as he realized Siheon was trying to appease him. He couldn’t hide his smile.
Siheon pulled away from Cha Wonwoo and looked around. After confirming that no one was near the examination room, he gently tugged at his collar and pulled him closer. Lowering his voice, he whispered, ‘This is a secret, but hyung is Korea’s top star, so I have quite a bit of money. It’s nothing to take care of you.’
‘Then can I leech off you, hyung?’
Cha Wonwoo’s long, curled eyelashes fluttered rapidly. Siheon’s whole body tickled, even though they hadn’t touched.
‘Yes, I’ll make sure you never have to lift a finger.’
‘Then I’ll be a house husband.’
‘Good. When I come home from filming, be ready and waiting in an apron.’
He kissed him lightly on the lips and stepped back, playfully slapping his backside. Naked would be even better, he added mischievously.
Siheon was used to hiding his condition, then and now. Whether or not it was discovered was a secondary issue. Shaking off the sudden memory, he replied in a casual tone, “The details of my appointment are confidential.”
However, as if unwilling to let it go, Cha Wonwoo narrowed his eyes and closed the distance between them.
“Hyung, what were you just thinking about?”
“Thinking? I wasn’t thinking about anything.”
I’m someone who lives without thinking. He added unnecessary words and avoided eye contact. Cha Wonwoo narrowed his eyes.
“You looked so wistful just now. Your expression.”
“Wistful, my foot.”
“Don’t you think I know you?”
“Try not to know me so well anymore.”
Siheon pulled his hat down further. If the brim covered half his face, people couldn’t read his expressions.
Cha Wonwoo stared at Siheon, hidden beneath his hat like a snail retreating into its shell.