WOP Ch 1.6

The water in the glass rippled. I had just taken a painkiller.

Even though it was just a short outing, my whole body ached, and my fingers had no strength. 

Eventually, it became hard to even hold the cup, so I had to put it down on the console. The screen of the phone next to it remained dark. It was silent in response to the message I sent to Taejung a few hours ago, filled with desperate longing. That was his answer.

Joyoon, meaninglessly fiddling with the phone, buried himself in the bed. His closed eyelids trembled lightly.

“…….”

Soon, he began to recall past traces one by one. It was an effort to distinguish what to discard and what to keep.

The pill he had taken earlier slowly spread through his body. The impact of the tiny tablet was considerable, deeply pressing down the headache that had plagued him all day. The moment of liberation had finally arrived. Tears quietly formed and fell from the corners of his tightly shut eyes. Suddenly, he wished he could fix his heart with just a pill.

Love. Memories. Pain.

Rhythmic music filled the enclosed space. The club’s ornate interior and lighting created a more dreamy atmosphere. People, more relaxed than usual, enjoyed secret escapades. In one corner of the counter bar, where glasses and money exchanged hands frantically, someone familiarly pulled up a stool and sat down. The man’s gaze as he scanned the people was quite contemplative. After a while, a blond bartender who noticed him approached and waved.

“Long time no see.”

At the short but affectionate tone, the man’s eyes softened.

“Sungjae, long time no see. It’s crowded, huh?”

“It’s Saturday. Looks like you drank before coming? You seem a bit out of it.”

His face, already flushed with drunkenness, awkwardly laughed. Rubbing one cheek lightly, Seo Youngwoo playfully defended himself.

“Haha, just a bit. Just a bit.”

Pointing to the menu, he ordered his usual drink and then glanced around the interior. Inside the club, there were some familiar faces and many unfamiliar ones. Thud. A glass filled with a blue liquid resembling the Caribbean Sea was placed before him.

“Why is it so hard to see your face? Are you a celebrity?”

When the other teased him, Seo Youngwoo’s round eyes gently curved.

“Not really, I’ve just been busy with various things lately… there were some matters.”

“What matters? If you finally started dating the guy you’ve been pining for years, isn’t that enough?”

“Well… yeah.”

It was only a few months ago that he had been overjoyed, saying Kang Taejung had finally accepted his confession. During that time, Park Sungjae had heard endless complaints from Seo Youngwoo about Kang Taejung’s ambiguous attitude, so just hearing the guy’s name ruined his mood. He couldn’t possibly have any goodwill towards someone who ignored his friend’s sincere approach and coldly pushed him away.

“What’s so good about that guy? Is he treating you well, seeing your condition?”

As Seo Youngwoo took a sip of the well-made cocktail, he opened his eyes wide and then smiled brightly.

“Recently, he’s been really kind and attentive. He’s very gentle and doing his best for me.”

“That guy? Seriously? Then why do you look like that?”

“What do you mean. You jerk….”

Gesturing to the people flocking to the cocktail bar, Seo Youngwoo cautiously clasped his hands. His gaze clouded with sadness. It was a piece of heavy, dark emotion that had been slowly eating away at his mind for a very long time.

“Are you very busy?”

“Hey, punk. I’m the main bartender. I’m fine. What’s with that face?”

At Seo Youngwoo’s somewhat subdued voice, Park Sungjae smiled warmly and ruffled his black hair. After scanning the surroundings once more, Seo Youngwoo seemed to make up his mind and opened his tightly shut lips.

“That… person came.”

“That person?”

Skillfully mixing the ordered drink, Park Sungjae responded casually while shaking the shaker filled with various drinks and alcohol. The tightly pressed voice flowed out just a few minutes later.

“The person Hyung dated before.”

Thud. The shaker made a rough sound as it fell onto the table.

“Didn’t you say he… died? Are you possessed by a ghost?”

Laughing lightly at Park Sungjae’s reaction, Seo Youngwoo let out a long sigh.

“…He didn’t die, just went missing, and somehow returned recently. From what I heard, he was injured.”

I wish he were a ghost. The playful tone barely concealed his despair. Seo Youngwoo tightly shut his eyes. His heart felt parched without a drop of moisture in the endless desolation. The stone that had been pressing on his chest for so long now seemed to grow uncontrollably large, threatening to burst all his organs. Amid the cheerful beats, his voice, unable to hide its gloom, flowed out.

“Sungjae, I feel like trash.”

“Trash? Who’s calling you that?”

The kind voice of his friend made the emotions he’d been holding back for days surge up. Without even thinking of hiding his pained expression, Seo Youngwoo blurted out what he had kept bottled up.

“A few days ago, that person returned to the country and came to Hyung’s house. Fortunately, I was there with him, so nothing happened, but…”

“Why did that bastard come there? Did you just stand by? You should’ve punched him.”

“Do you know what I thought when I saw him?”

“What?”

“Why did he come back?”

“……”

“He should have just died there instead of returning.”

His unfocused eyes were blurry. The grotesque inner thoughts he had never shared with anyone came out blatantly. He pretended to be a kind and broad-minded person in front of his lover, but in reality, he was burning up inside.

After encountering Kang Taejung’s former lover, Seo Youngwoo couldn’t stop thinking about Ha Joyoon every day, hitting his chest and comparing himself to him, hurting himself in the process. Even though he knew it was an irrational belief, he couldn’t calm his mind. It was a process akin to self-harm.

Seo Youngwoo mumbled as if confessing the thoughts that had tormented him for days.

“Why did that person come back alive to make things so hard for me?”

When he hadn’t seen him at all, it was easier to deal with it generously as if he was just a figment of imagination. But after facing him, he couldn’t control his emotions or thoughts rationally. He was just afraid that Taejung might return to that person.

“If he had just remained missing, he would have been just a memory for Taejung. Why did he come back to shake me and Taejung up like this?”

“Hey… Youngwoo.”

“Thoughts like that….”

He awkwardly smiled and touched his cheek. “Don’t I seem like such trash?” At his question, Park Sungjae hesitated, unable to answer easily. Understanding his reaction, Seo Youngwoo shifted his gaze. Park Sungjae, who had a somewhat stern expression, slowly continued to organize the bottles and spoke again.

“It’s natural to think like that. Why are you feeling down about it?”

“…I’m not strange, am I?”

“Of course not, man. You’re not a saint. Who wouldn’t have such thoughts about a clingy ex? Ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends who can’t grasp reality are the most pathetic, aren’t they?”

Despite his gentle nature, Park Sungjae felt uneasy even while agreeing with him. Seongjae hyung- The savior-like call from the hall interrupted their conversation.

“Just a moment.”

After quickly taking the order, Park Sungjae mixed drinks and beverages in a new shaker.

“Listen.”

Pouring the drink skillfully into a glass, Park Sungjae carefully spoke. His watery eyes followed the movement.

“Your anxiety, it’s because your relationship with that guy started wrong.”

“……”

“Since it bothers you, you can’t feel stable.”

As the conversation continued, the worry lines on his face deepened. Seo Youngwoo, who had lowered his forehead almost to the bar, sighed deeply. His eyes, lost in thought, slowly traced back the past.

The first time he met Kang Taejung, the first successful phone call, the moment he fell in love, the times he circled around him using the excuse of being a junior, the spring when he confessed and was rejected, the drinking sessions together, and the hard-earned opportunity, deception….

“I was so desperate back then.”

Seo Youngwoo mumbled like an excuse, burying his head in his arms. Park Sungjae, watching him, also felt uneasy.

“I know. I shouldn’t have lied to him… but back then… I couldn’t think of anything else.”

The hand slowly tousling his hair carried undisguised regret. After a short pause, Park Sungjae hesitantly spoke.

“Maybe it’s better to be honest now….”

“No!”

With a loud exclamation, Seo Youngwoo quickly shook his head. No. Absolutely not. Murmuring like sobbing, Seo Youngwoo frantically rubbed his cheek with one hand. The hand covering his face was trembling slightly.

“He’ll break up with me.”

“…….”

“Knowing Taejung hyung’s personality, if he finds out the truth, he’ll definitely break up with me.”

No, no. Repeatedly mumbling, his voice wavered like a river on the verge of flooding.

“I can’t lose this chance. No way. Sungjae, please… don’t say things like that. We’re finally finding some stability… we’re seeing each other.”

“Youngwoo….”

“I really love him.”

In the desperate tone that conveyed urgency, Park Sungjae ultimately gave up on persuading him.

Forcing his staggering body up, Seo Youngwoo gazed at the club’s exit with tearful eyes. The film of memory was loaded into the projector and replayed with dim light. The film rewound to a month ago, two months ago… and continued back to that night. Like today, it was a night filled with the bustling and vibrant atmosphere of people but equally lonely and desolate.

‘I really… Ha Joyoon….’

‘Hyung, hyung, wake up….’

‘I miss him so much….’

‘Hyung, get up. Stop drinking… let’s go out. Okay? Taejung hyung….’

His lips, tracing back memories, tightened. His tightly clenched lips turned red with blood. The eyes that had been tearful were now freezing with determination to protect his love. The fear of losing pushed Seo Youngwoo’s anxiety further, but he wasn’t aware of it.

“…I hate that person so much.”

“Hey, man.”

The hand gripping the glass tightened gradually. The target of his trembling fingers’ hatred wasn’t present here.

“I can’t stand it. What is he thinking? Acting so selfishly, isn’t he ashamed?”

“Youngwoo.”

“I wish he had just died… I wish he had stayed dead. I keep having these thoughts.”

“…….”

“I hate it. I hate myself for thinking this way…. I used to think I was a decent person, but lately, I feel like I’m becoming so miserable.”

Unrefined emotions wandered the world fueled by alcohol. A vague smile spread wildly. The gesture Park Sungjae made to stop him lost its purpose and halted. Seo Youngwoo, who carelessly wiped away the falling fragments of emotions, emptied the remaining glass in one gulp and stood up.

“I’ll be going.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look good.”

Forcing a smile at his friend’s concern, Seo Youngwoo waved his hand.

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have come and interrupted your work.”

Park Sungjae knew well why Seo Youngwoo had come to him. He wanted to share a secret he couldn’t tell anyone else, even if just a little. It pained Park Sungjae to see his friend standing at a blocked path, unable to go forward or back.

“That’s not it, so stay a bit longer. In a little while, it’ll be party time, and everyone will head to the stage, so it’ll get quiet, and we can…”

“No, I’ll go. I think it’s better to just go home. If I stay longer, I might make a mistake.”

Gently pushing away the hand trying to stop him, Seo Youngwoo moved with staggering steps. Taking out his phone from his bag, he pressed the screen, seemingly making a call. Fumbling several times in his drunken state, Seo Youngwoo let out a frustrated sigh and quickened his pace. As he headed towards the exit, his unsteady figure darkened Park Sungjae’s gaze.

“Youngwoo!”

“Sorry about tonight. Next time, I’ll come with Taejung hyung.”

Ignoring his worried call, Seo Youngwoo left the club. Opening the door, the warm air touched his skin. Not a single star was visible in the dark night sky. The more he struggled to protect his love, the deeper it felt like he was falling into an abyss during the long night.

 ❄️️

The second visit to the office was a far cry from the previous silence. The bustling inside the office spilled into the lobby, with people moving busily and voices loud enough to make the whole floor noisy. The voices, regardless of whether they belonged to foreigners or locals, carried urgency, giving a rough idea of the current situation.

“Are you leaving now?”

“I have to leave immediately!”

“You go to the Central Prosecutor’s Office, Seunghoon. I’ll stop by the Eastern Prosecutor’s Office and head over.”

“Throw me the notebook!”

Voices so mixed it was hard to tell them apart. In the midst of what felt like the heart of a war, Ha Joyoon stood idly, following their movements with the eyes of a perfect stranger.

Thunk-

“Uh…”

“Oh!”

A sudden impact on his shoulder made him stagger. It was one of the busy employees.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was so out of it… Are you okay?”

“It’s fine. It was my fault for standing in the way.”

“Still, I’m sorry. Oh, what brings you here? Do you have an appointment?”

The man’s busy gaze alternated between his watch and Ha Joyoon’s face, suggesting he was on his way out for coverage. It wasn’t hard to guess that his time was running short. Ha Joyoon promptly got to the point.

“I came to meet Director Shin.”

The man’s eyes widened at the mention of Shin Kwonjoo’s title.

“Oh… what? The Director? Oh… what’s your name?”

“Ha Joyoon. From today…”

“Oh! Reporter Ha Joyoon! The Director mentioned you. Great timing, we were going to call to see when you’d arrive. I thought someone this handsome must have come for an interview by mistake.”

“Yes…”

Upon hearing his name, the man’s previously anxious face lit up with joy. Before Ha Joyoon could even wonder why, the man grabbed his wrist and pulled him.

“We need to head out right away. We’re already very late.”

“But…”

Sensing Ha Joyoon’s hesitation, the man responded firmly.

“The Director is at the scene too. Do you have a camera?”

The man’s gaze shifted to the bag slung over Ha Joyoon’s shoulder. Gripping the strap tightly without realizing it, Ha Joyoon stiffened and nodded awkwardly.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Good. Here, wear this. I’ve pre-registered your name, and you’ll need to get your access badge there.”

With a brief instruction, the man handed over an employee badge. On the small plastic card, an awkwardly printed image of Ha Joyoon’s face, looking somewhat displeased, stared back at him. It wasn’t until he saw the badge with his face on it that Ha Joyoon realized Shin Kwonjoo’s offer was real. But even that moment of realization was brief. The hurried employee gathered the rest of his things and spoke urgently.

“We’ll take my car.”

With a strong tug on his wrist, Ha Joyoon stumbled again. The steps towards the elevator moved quickly, as if there was no time to waste. Following him, Ha Joyoon’s steps were equally hurried and clumsy.

“We’re completely late. The Director is going to chew us out. It’s going to be a disaster.”

The desperate voice brought a faint smile to Ha Joyoon’s previously tense lips.

“Is the Director at the scene?”

“He usually doesn’t go to the scene, but he had a schedule there today… we need to go straight to the briefing room. I’m really sorry, but we’ll have to introduce ourselves on the way. Let’s hurry.”

The conversation, which had been intermittent, came to a complete stop. Now the priority was to arrive at the scene on time. Leaving behind the sound of keyboards and the murmuring of people, Ha Joyoon stepped out of the lobby.

The urgent sound of footsteps echoed loudly in the lobby. In that short distance, walking almost at a run, and the unique suffocating atmosphere of being pressed for time, Joyoon suddenly realized that in some form, he had indeed come back.

To the place where one should be, to do what needs to be done.

Over his pale face facing outside the building, indescribable emotions blushed and brought a gentle warmth.

 ❄️️

“You both have some nerve.”

Those were the first words from Shin Kwonjoo, who was waiting for them with a face like a demon at the front gate of the conference hall. The blue light and cold emitted from him made the sweat from their rush evaporate instantly. It seemed as if excuses like ‘we arrived on time’ or ‘we didn’t hear the schedule’ wouldn’t work at all. The irritation engraved on his sharp face predicted what would happen after the coverage. Though he felt a bit unfair, Ha Joyoon chose silence over excuses.

“Go inside first. Hyunwoo, we’ll talk after the meeting.”

“Sorry, Director. It’s just that…”

“Enough. Nam Hyunwoo, take your position and set up right away. The conference starts in five minutes. Ha Joyoon, your assigned seat is behind K Daily. Come with me.”

“Yes.”

Ha Joyoon replied concisely and moved. Suddenly, he noticed the man walking beside him with slightly faster steps. His expression, looking straight ahead, was cool and devoid of warmth. His gaze dissected everything in detail.

What does the world beyond his viewfinder look like?

As his hurried steps slowed, the man who felt his gaze glanced sideways at Ha Joyoon. His gaze seemed to dig into his innermost thoughts. The noisy hall briefly fell silent. After a moment, Shin Kwonjoo spoke with a face full of irritation.

“Stop it already.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Are you going to look at my face all day?”

The voice mixed with absurdity and annoyance made his pale cheeks blush instantly.

“…That’s not it.”

“If it’s not, then don’t stare. It’s honestly annoying.”

The frank expression and genuine annoyance added to his embarrassment. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but if his gaze had made the other uncomfortable, it was clearly his fault.

“I’m sorry.”

Ha Joyoon quietly apologized, gently touching his heating nose. Shin Kwonjoo seemed to have no intention of pressing further and hurried along. In the awkward atmosphere, the conference hall quickly came into view. Feeling relieved, Ha Joyoon pocketed the access badge he had exchanged at the entrance.

The thorough inspection of belongings and identification at the entrance highlighted the importance of the event. Though not familiar with the domestic coverage environment, the formal invitation of foreign press indicated a significant occasion.

Unlike domestic media, which had to consider the regime’s stance, foreign media were less influenced by such pressures. For this reason, most ruling regimes were not friendly to foreign media, especially when tainted by scandals, leading to more closed media disclosures.

Considering various factors, this event was surprising. Ha Joyoon swallowed dryly as he crossed the final gate into the conference hall. The weight of the camera on his shoulder felt exceptionally heavy today.

The hall was already filled with journalists. Although domestic journalists made up the majority, there was a significant number of foreign journalists present. Some were there alone, while others had brought stringers due to language barriers.

“Whew, it’s packed!”

Nam Hyunwoo, who had arrived earlier and was waiting, exclaimed. Shin Kwonjoo scoffed, staring at the perfectly set up podium.

“They must know there would be a riot if they only invited pro-government media.”

“They’ve used their brains.”

“Maybe, but it could still be a trap.”

His eyes narrowed beyond the documents. The hand flipping through the documents was sharp. As he stroked his chin, the man lifted the corners of his lips. The cold smile didn’t give the impression of laughter. He looked stronger and more solid than the last time Ha Joyoon remembered.

Ha Joyoon, standing a step away from their conversation, turned his attention to the hall. Amid the unique tension, officials were busily walking around, inspecting the coverage environment.

Given the nature of the event, both government officials and journalists had stiff expressions. Joyoon, too, took a long breath of tension and confirmed his designated seat. Seemingly finished with their conversation, Shin Kwonjoo and Nam Hyunwoo also took their seats.

Routine checks were conducted for media that had prepared questions. After about 30 minutes of checking, the silence was broken by an announcement signaling that they were ready to broadcast. The hall maintained an eerie calm, with the sounds of breathing, typing, and pens writing on paper mingling together.

Then, after a while, the protagonist of the conference ascended the podium amid tight security. An indescribable aura of intimidation was etched on his face with the years. It was a strange feeling, lying on the boundary between good and evil.

“Make sure you both record everything properly. Don’t miss a single word. Leave out unnecessary sentiments and stick to the facts.”

Staring coldly ahead, Shin Kwonjoo murmured lowly. The weight of his words made Ha Joyoon nod quietly. He tightened his grip on the camera.

“First, I would like to greet the citizens.”

As the politician’s typically persuasive tone shattered the silence, camera flashes erupted simultaneously.

“First and foremost, I express deep regret for standing here at such a critical time….”

The leader’s corruption scandal, emerging at a time of unfavorable domestic and international sentiment, was enough to shake the entire country. The truth revealed from all angles made the initial efforts to provide one-sided information through some pro-government media and strictly control critical domestic and foreign media opinions futile.

As a breakthrough, the presidential office invited both domestic and foreign journalists to a comprehensive press conference. However, the situation deteriorated as questions and answers were exchanged. Everyone present knew that tens of thousands of citizens were gathered in the city square, calling for impeachment. The officials standing like guards in the sharp atmosphere also had darkened expressions.

“This concludes the conference. No more questions will be taken.”

To calm the escalating atmosphere, the spokesperson quickly stepped in.

“Are you canceling the pre-scheduled Q&A session?”

“Isn’t this irresponsible?”

“Shouldn’t there be an explanation about the money used in the deal with Chairman Kim Tae-ho during the last presidential election?”

Amid the atmosphere trying to wrap up quickly, jeers and criticisms erupted from the reporters’ seats. It was a stark contrast to the previously strictly controlled and scripted press conferences. However, the arena for communication was already ending with a one-sided conclusion. Black-clad security guards swarmed onto the podium, blocking the view of the scene. It was a despicable method of communication by those who held the upper hand in power.

Click- click.

The sound of the camera shutters capturing every expression exploded softly. The hands working to capture the truth through the lens moved more quickly. All attention was focused on the world beyond the lens. Someone had to record this historical moment. Ha Joyoon always believed that this was his mission as a photojournalist.

Suddenly, his busy hands paused as if forgetting time. Gaps in his memory opened, letting out feelings of regret.

I believed this was my path. I believed someone had to fully capture and record the cruel and unfair reality as it was. I thought no one in the world should be completely isolated from people’s attention.

And you… I thought you would eventually understand someone like me. It was a truly self-centered thought. When I realized I couldn’t fully make you understand me, I should have let you go.

My love, filled with lingering attachments, couldn’t hold you properly or let you go.

Taejung.

Even though I hurt you so much… I still sincerely love this job.

“Press the shutter.”

A low voice struck him directly. Short but sufficient words. His body, frozen like ice, flinched. He quickly returned to reality, with the reporters’ shouts and camera shutters, and flashes ringing in his ears. Ha Joyoon took a short breath. He saw the man standing beside him, towering like a medieval castle. His determined eyes only looked straight ahead, allowing no leakage of emotions.

“What are you thinking? This is the field.”

“…I’m sorry.”

As he quickly grasped reality, he realized what he had to do right now. Joyoon started to focus all his attention back on the lens. The blatant remnants of the leader’s conscience, ignoring all criticism, were steadily captured in the camera.

The atmosphere in the corridor after the conference was generally chaotic. Most of the conversations were complaints about the conference’s atmosphere, but it was always uncertain how the report would be published in the end.

“Post the first draft on the intranet board. I’ll select the photos myself, but roughly classify them through the editor.”

“Yes, I’ll head straight to the National Assembly then. Gates’ stringer hasn’t arrived yet, so I think I need to leave.”

“Okay. And report by phone once you arrive.”

After confirming the schedule, Shin Kwonjoo nodded and gave a few brief instructions. The employee skillfully jotting down his words greeted Ha Joyoon.

“Oh, by the way, Reporter Ha. I’m sorry for bringing you here without any explanation. I had registered you in advance but didn’t explain it… things were too hectic.”

“It’s alright.”

Receiving the distributed materials, the man smiled brightly.

“I’ll formally greet you at the office. I think I need to leave for coverage now.”

His friendly tone and unique warmth helped dissolve some of the tension that had persisted since visiting the office. An involuntary gentle smile appeared on Joyoon’s lips. The employee, noticing this, blushed and scratched the back of his head.

“I’ll greet you properly later too. I look forward to working with you.”

When he offered a handshake, Joyoon gladly took it. After a few more brief words, the employee hurried off. Joyoon’s gaze grew dim as he watched the gradually receding figure.

“You must have been flustered by the sudden situation. Well done.”

“…Yes, you too, Sunbae.”

By then, Shin Kwonjoo had lit a cigarette, and the smoke drifted around. The fresh scent disappearing into the pungent smoke felt somewhat regretful.

“Let’s finish up and head back to the office. I have things to explain.”

His cold yet serious voice commanded attention from the listener. Ha Joyoon, who had been observing his neatly tied tie, nodded in response. Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched him. After a moment of silence, he spoke again.

“Have you eaten?”

Joyoon realized then that he had only consumed a few drinks since leaving for work in the morning. Rubbing his flat stomach, he shook his head and replied no. A deflated laugh sounded near his head. When he looked up, the man, who seemed to be laughing a moment ago, was now expressionlessly checking his phone.

“Let’s eat something before we head back.”

The eyes checking the messages were endlessly serious.

Is something wrong?

Ha Joyoon, who had been observing the stiff expression on Shin Kwonjoo’s face, was startled when his black eyes slowly moved to fix on him. Shin Kwonjoo noticed this and laughed, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, Ha Joyoon. I told you to take it easy.”

“…That’s not…”

Before he could deny it, the perfectly sculpted nose drew too close. “It’s hot,” Shin Kwonjoo muttered indifferently, taking off his thin jacket and slinging it over his arm. The cool scent rushed deep into Ha Joyoon’s lungs.

“I’m tired of hearing it’s not that, so let’s stop. Let’s go. There aren’t many good places to eat nearby, so let’s head towards the office.”

“Yes, understood.”

As soon as Joyoon replied, Shin Kwonjoo began walking ahead with large strides. Even as the distance grew, he never looked back. He was clearly a man in a hurry, or maybe he had little interest in the other person.

From a few experiences, Ha Joyoon felt he was starting to understand Shin Kwonjoo’s characteristics. It was amusing to realize these things now.

Walking down a long slope with the hot sun on their backs, they eventually saw the entrance to a roadside parking lot. Noticing Shin Kwonjoo, who had arrived long before, Joyoon hurried his steps.

“Get in.”

Pressing the button, the headlights briefly flickered. The sleek, elegant curves of the black car matched its owner’s atmosphere. Opening the driver’s seat door, Shin Kwonjoo pointed to the back seat.

“Put your stuff in the back. There are some clothes, so arrange them yourself.”

“Yes.”

Opening the back seat door, several shirts and jackets were neatly hung. The spacious interior allowed them to remain unwrinkled. Joyoon’s hand, reaching to move the shirts, paused for a moment. Memories from long ago surfaced. The man, his superior at the headquarters, often spent nights in the office. Back then, Joyoon would frequently fetch shirts from his car on errands, just like now.

It’s a strange feeling when the remembered past aligns with the present. Maybe it’s because it feels like the past continues to the present. It’s not like the entirely invalidated past with Kang Taejung….

“Is your head really okay?”

At the sudden question, Joyoon, who had been organizing the luggage, poked his head out. He immediately faced the cold expression of Shin Kwonjoo. The cigarette in his hand was trailing long smoke.

“What do you mean…”

“I’ve noticed it since before. Ha Joyoon, you seem to have a tendency to black out suddenly. No matter how urgent things are in this field, treatment should come first.”

Shin Kwonjoo’s sharp eyes stared at him as he took a deep drag on the filter. He was clearly checking whether there would be any work disruptions rather than showing concern for a subordinate in need of treatment. The Shin Kwonjoo Ha Joyoon had recently come to know wasn’t someone to wait patiently for delayed work.

He could almost feel his heart pounding. His bag containing the medicine felt endlessly heavy. After a moment’s hesitation, Joyoon put down the equipment bag and closed the door.

“It shouldn’t be a problem. …I’m seeing a doctor. If it ever affects my work, I’ll resign on my own.”

Though he had said it with determination, the other’s expression remained effortlessly light. Shin Kwonjoo stubbed out the half-burnt cigarette and got into the car.

“No need to sound so grim. I just asked to make sure you don’t collapse at work, which would be problematic for us.”

His tone was nonchalant as if he hadn’t sharply inquired earlier. Feeling upset, Ha Joyoon responded sulkily.

“…Still, it feels off.”

“What does?”

“I feel like I’m being treated as someone who can’t do anything just because I’m sick.”

Even if he revealed his true feelings, it wouldn’t leave a trace on the other’s poker face. Knowing this, his rising frustration didn’t easily subside. Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes narrowed as he observed him.

“You do speak your mind.”

“……”

“Prevention isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

Joyoon averted his gaze and sat in the passenger seat, his complexion somewhat pale.

Shin Kwonjoo.

Though he was a Sunbae in university, their proper relationship only formed in society. It was a relationship with no need or reason for deep involvement. Even though it had always been this way, today the bitterness was hard to hide, only because of Ha Junghye’s explanation about him after returning to the country. Rubbing his forehead against the still-warm car window, Ha Joyoon closed his eyes, fatigued.

“Let’s go.”

The heavy engine sound resonated through the precise machinery. The vehicle smoothly exited the parking lot.

 ❄️️

The restaurant they arrived at was surprisingly ordinary. The menu offered only a set meal, but the place was bustling with people, indicating its popularity. Voices calling for the waitstaff filled the air. The atmosphere didn’t quite match the man, and Ha Joyoon couldn’t help but look around.

“It’s crowded.”

“The food is decent. The office staff often come here. Sit down.”

As Shin Kwonjoo sat down and ordered from the approaching staff, Ha Joyoon began to arrange the utensils. Even while seated, Shin Kwonjoo’s phone kept ringing incessantly. Initially checking the messages with disinterest, he soon furrowed his brows and flipped the device facedown on the table.

“They won’t leave me alone.”

His smooth hand rubbed his chin, full of irritation. His inherently elegant yet arrogant demeanor made the modest restaurant feel like a high-end establishment.

Suddenly, a shiny ring caught Ha Joyoon’s attention amidst the mundane gestures. He could now closely examine its design. The intensely refined simplicity suited him well. It was unmistakably a wedding ring. He became curious about Shin Kwonjoo’s spouse, someone who shared life with this man of cold passion.

Realizing this was more interest than necessary, his gaze almost met Shin Kwonjoo’s displeased eyes when a savior appeared.

“Your food is here.”

In an instant, a dozen side dishes were set on the table, all looking quite appetizing. In the middle of the perfectly arranged meal stood a bowl of soybean paste stew, its savory aroma stimulating the appetite. Loosening his tightly knotted tie, Shin Kwonjoo gestured.

“Eat.”

“…Yes.”

With his indifferent prompting, they both picked up their utensils. The well-cooked rice and adequately seasoned side dishes were quite appetizing. Amid the noisy restaurant, their table remained silent except for the clinking of utensils. Though the bell occasionally rang, he didn’t check his messages again.

The long silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Like Ha Joyoon, who was used to silence, his companion also wasn’t very talkative, making for a peaceful atmosphere. It was fortunate not to have to fill the uncomfortable time with idle chatter.

“I heard you won’t be in Korea for long.”

Near the end of their meal, Ha Joyoon spoke first. Shin Kwonjoo, who was pouring water into his cup, nodded lightly.

“Probably until the end of this year or early next year.”

The end of this year or early next year. Ha Joyoon realized that the time frame Shin Kwonjoo mentioned wasn’t far off. Though he hadn’t expected him to stay long, it was sooner than anticipated. It seemed his assignment was indeed temporary for the initial setup.

“Are you returning to the head office?”

“Not sure.”

“You’re not staying long.”

“I was only promised about a year until the Korea branch was established. So I’ll stay as planned; it’s neither long nor short.”

“I thought you’d stay longer.”

“The shorter the exile, the better.”

A clear smile briefly appeared on his lips before disappearing.

“Rapid promotion often breeds enemies.”

Considering Shin Kwonjoo’s mid-thirties age, his position as a branch manager in Asia was a remarkable achievement. There was bound to be backlash. Ha Joyoon quickly realized that what might seem regrettable to some could be akin to exile for him and offered a swift apology.

“I’m sorry. I’m not well-versed in these matters…”

“I know. If you were well-versed, it would have felt more out of place.”

The media, endlessly interconnected and mutually checking each other, required political acumen. While foreign media had a somewhat independent nature compared to traditional newspapers or broadcasts, there was still a fierce internal competition to rise to the top. He was a man who had won the brutal battle of tearing and being torn. Unlike Ha Joyoon, who focused solely on his work, his path was entirely different.