“Hey.”
Yeon Haejeong tossed the unlit cigarette into the ashtray and spoke quietly.
“Just because I let you call me hyung doesn’t mean you actually are my hyung.”
He fixed the other man with a sharp, almost threatening stare and went straight for the jugular.
“A freeloader who still can’t read the room.”
But what was truly irritating was that even this kind of talk didn’t faze Yeon Chayeong in the slightest. He simply smiled faintly and drank down about half his coffee.
“Still the same.”
Yeon Chayeong showed not a flicker of expression change at the younger one’s contempt and insults — just that same quiet, unmoved smile. Watching from the terrace entrance, Yang the housekeeper let out a silent sigh. The only person in this household who treated Yeon Chayeong — practically Chairman Yeon’s second son in all but name, the Executive Director — like that, was the youngest son, Yeon Haejeong. Everyone knew that the benevolent Chairman Yeon’s most cherished was, in truth, youngest son Yeon Haejeong — but Haejeong’s behavior toward Chayeong was always the reason the chairman couldn’t openly dote on him.
Just as the atmosphere had turned to ice and she was bracing herself for another round, someone came hurrying toward the entrance.
“Hey. Why do you always have to go to extremes?”
Yeon Juhyeok’s arrival broke the sharpness that had been building. He’d clearly wanted to have a word about his younger brother showing up at the crack of dawn, because he’d come down from the second floor in a hurry.
“I said come home — did you have to come this early?”
Juhyeok started scolding his brother the moment he laid eyes on him, and Haejeong, now being lectured by two hyungs the second he walked in, rolled his eyes again in open exhaustion.
“I’m here, aren’t I? What’s there to say about it.”
“Is that how you talk to your hyung.”
“Whatever, just get me a place to stay.”
“A place? What place. Your room is right here.”
“God. If I live here, you know it’ll wear on Mom and Dad — and you too.”
“Ni? You said ni to your hyung? — Wait. What on earth are you wearing.”
Juhyeok raised his voice like he was about to lunge at his insolent brother, then suddenly squinted at him like he might be seeing things. He adjusted his glasses and looked him over again, face screwing up in something between confusion and distaste.
“What is that. What are you wearing.”
At that, Haejeong glanced down at himself. He was still in the clothes Munyeong had given him. A fitted hoodie with cat ears, hugging his frame like a second skin.
“Where did you sleep last night, a ditch?”
“What, so?”
“…Unbelievable. Go change before the elders see you.”
Juhyeok turned away like he’d seen something offensive. Yeon Chayeong, who had been quietly enjoying his tea all along, let out a low laugh and countered.
“Why, it’s cute.”
“That?”
“He looks like the youngest.”
“Then you be his hyung.”
“Sure — want that, Haejeong?”
For two people in the middle of a succession battle, the two of them weren’t overtly sharp with each other on the surface. They’d lived together for years and were close in age, so they maintained a certain mutual respect. Their grades had always been neck and neck — trading first and second place constantly — and though they’d gone to entirely different universities, both had gotten into similarly prestigious schools, both had majored in business administration. They were guarded with each other, but not obviously hostile. Chairman Yeon didn’t want that from them, and the two had accepted it as something like fate — placidly, quietly. Of course, Yeon Haejeong privately sneered at all of it as nothing but a performance.
“Anyway. Get me a place. A penthouse.”
Haejeong cut the idle conversation short with a clipped instruction. Juhyeok snapped back that he wasn’t a concierge, but Haejeong’s mind had suddenly flashed back to the humiliation of being treated like a beggar for not having a home, and he ground his back teeth. Along with the thought that once he had the penthouse, he absolutely had to invite that bastard over.
And of course — Im Munyeong, who had put him up for two whole days, too. Just — well. Gratitude was gratitude. He had no intention of being petty enough to brush off what he owed.
…Actually, someone at my level — why would I even bother acknowledging something that small. Haejeong’s expression flipped like a coin as he clicked his tongue sharply. His face was all discontent and spite. Damn it. Why do I keep thinking about him, like an idiot.
Haejeong knocked back the tea a staff member had poured in one go, trying to get his head straight. The bitterly astringent taste clung to the tip of his tongue and layered another coat of displeasure onto his expression. …That cheap honey water Munyeong made was way better. The involuntary thought made him set the cup down like he was throwing it. He raked a hand through his hair and slapped his own cheek lightly, irritated at himself. It was pathetic — thinking about something that trivial. Someone like me, hung up on some guy like that? Not a chance. Who does he think he is. Even in the middle of his annoyance, Haejeong let out a short, derisive laugh to himself.
It’s just old memories surfacing. That’s all. I just happen to be thinking about him — it’s nothing. If anything, he’s the one who should still be hung up on this. Because back then — the one who had feelings — it was that presumptuous bastard. Maybe he still did. Forgetting someone at Haejeong’s level wasn’t exactly easy. And where else was a guy like him ever going to meet someone like Haejeong again? In his experience, people who’d caught feelings for him never let go easily — it was practically a given.
Haejeong’s expression turned somewhat serious as he dragged a hand slowly along his jaw. Really, still…? Honestly — half teasing, half genuine as he’d been about bossing Munyeong around — the man hadn’t complained once. He’d taken him home the moment he got drunk, hadn’t he? Had practically lost his mind when he said he wasn’t feeling well.
He narrowed his eyes, turning the thought over with something like reasonable suspicion. Ridiculous. Haejeong scoffed, letting out a sharp laugh, and crossed his arms with that same spiteful look on his face as he muttered quietly to himself.
Who does who like? Dare even think about it. It was absurd.
“Not a single visit when your mother called — and yet here you are the moment your father summons you.”
Before the morning meal, Rep. Chu stepped out in a light, casual outfit draped with a velvet stole, and stood waiting at the exit as if she had been expecting Yeon Haejeong to come out from the terrace. She clearly found it deeply grating that his reason for appearing at the family home was a summons from Chairman Yeon — the look she fixed on Haejeong was cold.
Yeon Haejeong saw the one person he disliked even more than Yeon Chayeong and let out a low sigh. Fortunately, he had come out leaving Chayeong and Juhyeok behind, so it was just the two of them — Haejeong and Rep. Chu. And since the household staff who had been stationed there were gone too, it seemed Rep. Chu had dismissed them.
“Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous to be calling now, after all this time?”
Haejeong shot back, making it clear he had no idea what she was expecting from him by showing hurt. Then he confirmed that Chayeong and Juhyeok were still far back on the terrace enjoying their tea and continued quietly.
“You’re the one who spent over ten years pulling strings to keep me out of Korea in the first place.”
“Everything I did was for you. Did you really think this small country could absorb all the trouble you cause?”
“What a pathetic excuse.”
“Yeon Haejeong.”
“You were just uneasy having me close.”
Haejeong narrowed his eyes and said it quietly, biting down on each word.
“…There you go saying unnecessary things again.”
Rep. Chu tightened her grip on her stole and sharpened her gaze just as much in return. As if Haejeong had said something he was not allowed to say.
“Don’t worry — I have no intention of moving back into the main house.”
“Who said anything about that?”
“You want that more than anyone, and you know I know it.”
“Yeon Haejeong. Don’t make your mother angry.”
“……”
“How long are you going to keep being this difficult.”
The rift between him and his mother had opened a long time ago. It went back to his high school years — that turbulent, stormy period before he was sent away to America. They’d always clashed, but the biggest reason was something else entirely. Something so shocking that if it ever became public, it would bring this family and this household crashing down completely. Yeon Haejeong had been carrying that secret for over ten years.
“You threw me out on your own, called me back on your own — don’t you think it’s time to let me be?”
“How could I just watch and do nothing when you can’t keep yourself in line? Why didn’t you give the inauguration speech the way it was written for you? And I heard you acted like a thug in front of Chairman Shin — is that true? You know how rigid that old man is—!”
“Right. Exactly. That’s what I mean.”
Haejeong waved a hand like he was tired of the whole thing and fixed her with a cold, level stare.
“Stop doing that to me.”
“I’m your mother.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Because you’re my mother.”
Haejeong clenched his jaw like he was forcing himself to hold on, raked his hand through his hair. Then he looked at her with eyes like still water and opened his mouth again.
