Lim Suha turned his back on the blaring music and stared blankly at his phone screen.
It had been about a week since his last call with Jeong Yiyeon. In all that time, Yiyeon had never once reached out first.
Lim Suha’s expression twisted slightly, and he shoved his phone back into his pocket with irritable force.
It’s better this way. The constant messages were getting annoying.
But no matter what he told himself, the irritation wouldn’t budge, and all he could do was keep throwing back the drink in front of him. Whether it was just his mood, the music spilling out of the bar felt grating too. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.
He’d dragged himself out because his friends had insisted on drinking before the new semester started, but as expected, he didn’t want to be here. Friends — and he used that word loosely. They were really just kids he’d met through social circles and whom his family had approved of.
He had no idea what was taking so long — they’d said they were going out for a smoke but hadn’t come back in. With no one to talk to, he’d just been tipping his glass back alone, and the irritation came surging up before he could stop it.
The more I think about it, the more absurd it is. All that eagerness — clinging to me like I was everything — and then breaking up is that easy for you?
Of course. Jeong Yiyeon was just like everyone else. Like his family, who shifted their attitude the moment things stopped being convenient for them. No — could he even call those people family?
“Your brothers manifested as alphas early on — I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”
“If you can’t manifest, you should at least be good at something.”
“I can’t take you anywhere. It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re useless.”
So he’d shut himself in his room and drew — the one thing he loved. No one at home ever came looking for him anyway, so he just drew every single day, and in middle school, for the first time, he won an award in front of the entire student body.
Not that anyone cared.
The whole school had been gathered in the auditorium, and it was after the principal’s long speech had finally come to an end. In that setting, a shaggy-haired boy in glasses, small for his age, walking up to the stage to receive an award drew no one’s eye.
…Except one person.
A small child standing in the very front row was looking up at him with shining eyes.
Caught by that brilliant gaze, he stared back as if in a trance — and then their eyes met directly. In that instant, the child gave a small, quiet thumbs-up. And those little lips moved. Cool. You’re. So. Cool.
It was a first. Being told he was cool. Having someone look up at him with eyes that shone like he was something precious.
So he knew it instinctively. I will never be able to forget that child’s face….
That winter, Lim Suha manifested as an alpha.
It meant his life changed entirely from that point on.
Manifesting as an alpha made him shoot up in height, and he threw away his glasses. Nothing of who he used to be remained. Only then did people begin to take notice of him.
“I always knew you’d manifest as an alpha.”
“Who do you think Suha takes after, to be so talented?”
“Suha, I know you’re busy, but I’d really love it if you could make time to come to this gathering.”
“I need your help.”
Not just his family — the people around him changed the way they treated him too.
The brilliant, upward gaze of the child who had looked up at him — the very first time anyone had ever looked at him that way — was buried so far beneath the dazzle of everything that surrounded him now that he had all but forgotten it.
He remembered that forgotten presence again at his high school graduation.
A junior he’d never seen before came up to confess feelings for him. An unremarkable face, a plain enough impression. And yet — why did it feel different from every confession he’d received up until now?
Puzzled, he’d stared at the junior intently — and met a pair of shining eyes looking up at him.
In that moment, Lim Suha was transported back to the past, to the day he’d received that award in front of the entire school. Those pure, upward-gazing eyes were right in front of him again.
…Ah. It was you.
His gaze moved on its own, quickly searching for the name on the nametag.
Jeong Yiyeon.
He still shines like this, even now. The thought that someone like this had feelings for him brought a satisfaction that rose to fill something inside him — something that had stayed empty no matter how many confessions he’d received before. A deep sense of fullness came over him, along with a strange sense of superiority.
What had he said in response to Yiyeon’s confession that day?
He’d said that if Yiyeon passed the entrance exam for the same university and came to find him, he would accept his confession then.
Because Jeong Yiyeon was a beta. The kind his family would never accept — someone who, as an alpha, he could never truly be suited for….
So he’d said it the way you’d toss out a careless favor.
He hadn’t expected Yiyeon to actually remember those words, actually get into the same university, actually come find him, and actually confess again.
With those same shining eyes, unchanged.
That was how his relationship with Jeong Yiyeon began.
Pretty and cheerful, someone who adjusted himself well to fit around Lim Suha — Yiyeon had been a good partner.
If there was one regret, it was the trait: beta.
If Jeong Yiyeon hadn’t been a beta, there would have been no reason to hide him from his family, no reason for him to be straying outside the relationship to see omegas.
No — wait. Hadn’t Yiyeon loved everything about him unconditionally? No matter what he did, no matter what he looked like — and now, after all that, breaking up came this easily? In the end, Yiyeon had changed too.
Maybe it was for the best.
His family would have objected anyway — that much was certain. The relationship with Yiyeon had always had a set ending. They had simply arrived at that predetermined end right on schedule.
So breaking up with Yiyeon was, without question, the right outcome.
“Yeah. Better this way.”
He muttered the same words to himself again and again, emptying his glass — and just then:
“Hey, hey — drinking alone like that’s just petty, man.”
Kim Jihoo, one of the friends he’d come with, dropped into the seat beside him with a grumble. Lim Suha’s expression brightened in spite of himself. With no one to talk to, he’d fallen into pointless brooding — at least now he didn’t have to.
“Where are the others?”
“Bathroom. But that’s not the point right now….”
Kim Jihoo glanced around at their surroundings for no particular reason and leaned in slightly closer.
“Hey, I just got off the phone with my mom. You know how obsessed she is with getting me married, right?”
Instead of getting to the point, Jihoo checked around them once more. What is he going on about to make such a fuss? Honestly, at this point Suha didn’t care what the topic was — as long as it wiped out the thoughts in his head — so he waited quietly for Jihoo to continue.
“She’s been grinding her way into those chaebol wife circles, doing whatever it takes to find a good match for me, and apparently she overheard something.”
“What?”
“…What was it — something like, the youngest of Jeongjin Group manifested as an omega. She’s saying she’s going to do whatever it takes to arrange a meeting and that I absolutely have to go if she lines one up—”
The mental fog that had been settling in from drinking too fast cleared in an instant.
“What did you just say? Jeongjin Group? Are you sure?”
His hand shot out and gripped Jihoo’s shoulder without thinking, the grasp tight and automatic.
“Ah, jeez — you scared me. What’s gotten into you?”
“…Nothing. I’m asking if that’s reliable information.”
“Should be. You know my mom — when it comes to this stuff, she’s completely on top of it. That said, could she at least send a photo? I’d need to know what the person looks like before deciding whether I’m going or not—”
Kim Jihoo’s voice faded into the distance.
The youngest of Jeongjin Group… that was Yiyeon. Jeong Yiyeon.
He had never told anyone he was seeing Yiyeon. So Jihoo had no idea — that was why he was running his mouth like this right in front of him. None of this should have stirred anything in him. He and Yiyeon were already over.
He had told himself it was for the best. That Yiyeon was a beta, after all. That they weren’t suited for each other.
He had been so certain of that….
Jeong Yiyeon had become an omega.
“I’m losing my mind.”
Cha Hyunwoo dragged a towel roughly through his damp hair.
He’d been about to go out to the living room where Yiyeon was, but stopped himself without thinking and dropped heavily onto the bed. He tossed the towel over his still-dripping hair without much care and let his head hang.
A long, heated sigh escaped him.
A week had passed since Yiyeon’s manifestation. They had been going to the hospital together consistently throughout. Apparently Yiyeon was managing his pheromone control well enough by now — but….
The first few days had been something else entirely. Every time the suppressant wore off even a little, pheromones would seep out, and it was enough to make his head go completely blank.
Honestly, it might not be that different even now. Once he’d caught a whiff of Yiyeon’s pheromone, it refused to leave him.
Just the memory of it was enough to make his body react at the worst possible times, and it was absolutely maddening.
He’d deliberately locked himself in his room, pushed through an intense workout, finished a shower — and yet here he was.
Cha Hyunwoo glanced down at himself with something close to a glare, then sighed again.
“I’m not some animal.”
If he walked out there like this, it would be obvious in seconds.
…Then again — did it matter if it was obvious now? He was planning to confess anyway.
His original goal had been to confess before the semester started, but Yiyeon’s manifestation had brought so much to take care of that the time had slipped away entirely.
“I really can’t get anything right.”
Nothing but a jumbled mess of questions kept surfacing. How am I going to do this? What does a confession even take?
He didn’t know the answer himself. He’d never confessed to anyone before. Cha Hyunwoo spent a moment thinking back on all the confessions he’d received. Everyone had just come up to him and said it outright — that they liked him. Was that all there was to it? Easier than I thought.
All this time, there had been someone else beside Yiyeon — that was the only reason he hadn’t done this simple thing sooner. That reason no longer existed.
He didn’t have to wait anymore. More accurately — I can’t hold back anymore. His patience had run completely dry.
And on top of that — he’d been keeping Yiyeon close with one excuse after another, but once the semester started, he’d have no choice but to let him loose. Which was tomorrow. The thought of Yiyeon, newly manifested as an omega, roaming a campus full of people….
The urgency hit him before he’d even finished the thought.
That was why he wanted to change things between them before the semester began. He’d had more than enough of standing by and watching without being able to do anything.
He was done being just a childhood friend.
