The provocative stare, the distance closed to nearly nothing — Munyeong drew in a slow, deep breath. Caught between not knowing what to do and not knowing what not to do, he hesitated. He knew he should refuse, and he knew this kind of treatment — a superior toward an employee — was wrong. But that one thing Haejeong had said, about not being able to sleep, stirred something in a corner of Munyeong’s chest that wanted to help. He knew it was foolish, and yet that small feeling made the words stick in his throat.
“…You’re not saying no.”
Haejeong looked down at him with a faint, mildly surprised smile, studying him in that strange way. As Haejeong’s breath grazed his skin, Munyeong was swept up in the charged air between them and squeezed his eyes shut — not on purpose, just on instinct. At the reflexive snap of his eyes closing, at that distance where their lips could have met — everything went still. Still, and suspended, like the world had stopped. Nothing on his lips. Nothing anywhere. Munyeong opened his eyes very slowly, the ones he’d pressed shut hard enough to hurt. And there was Haejeong, still right in front of him, staring back with an expression of absolute contempt, a low, derisive sound escaping him.
“Ha.”
Then, with a sneer thick in his voice:
“Are you out of your mind?”
“……”
“Like I would actually do anything with someone like you.”
It only landed now. Munyeong stared straight ahead, face drained of color, mind blank. And in that straight ahead was Haejeong’s awful expression, plain as day. He had been mocked. Toyed with. Because he was someone it was fine to treat that way — because he was too laughable an opponent — this cruel little joke had been pulled on him. How was it possible that even this was the same as it had always been.
Munyeong’s lower lip trembled slightly. It wasn’t exactly anger. More like… something that made him feel a little pitiful. His heart. His mood. Himself.
But Haejeong paid none of that any mind. He pulled his wallet from the jacket he’d tossed onto the sofa and drew out a thick fold of cash. Then he came back over and pressed it into Munyeong’s chest by force.
“Once everything’s done, go home.”
He picked up the bottle he’d left half-drunk and disappeared slowly into his bedroom. His silhouette vanished into the dark, no light anywhere, and then the door slammed shut. Munyeong, left behind alone, felt as though he were drifting somewhere in the middle of outer space. It had been so long since he’d felt this wretched that he couldn’t move for a while. This was exactly why. This was why it was supposed to be a bad idea. Because he ended up played like this, swept away like this, so easily.
Munyeong stood frozen for some time, then gathered his sunken heart and forced himself to focus on what still needed to be done. He buried himself in the remaining work as hard as he could, not leaving room for something as out-of-place as hurt feelings, moving with composure. A treatment like this was familiar enough that he could manage his emotions efficiently and redirect to the task at hand. That kind of upright bearing was more or less a habit for Munyeong by now.
Having barely slept the night before because of everything that had happened, Munyeong nearly overslept. He woke looking ashen and immediately scrambled for his phone. Fortunately, there was a message from the manager saying not to come in until the afternoon — he let out a long, deep sigh of relief. Only then did Munyeong drag himself up and shuffle toward the bathroom.
Last night hadn’t been nothing to him, but Munyeong couldn’t afford to dwell on things one by one. He couldn’t afford to mope around just because he felt low, and he couldn’t afford to be idle just because he was feeling off. Keeping himself fed was his reality. To knock some sense back into himself, Munyeong slapped both his own cheeks several times in the shower.
Today, a large cleaning company had been brought in to do a full sanitization of the entire main building, which meant the early morning shift had been pushed to the evening. Starting work in the afternoon as a result, Munyeong felt off his form even with the short rest he’d gotten in the morning. With so many chaotic things happening lately, he felt completely drained. Still, being unwell wasn’t an excuse to skip work.
The zone he’d been assigned today was the smoking area on the rooftop garden. With a building this large, there were more than one or two smoking areas, but the rooftop was the one that got the most foot traffic from employees. It was the perfect spot to catch some air and have a coffee after lunch, which meant there was the most to clean up there.
No matter what time you went up, there were always a few office workers gathered there smoking. And whenever he went, there was also a certain deputy general manager who showed up reliably. The deputy general manager was one of the rare people in the company who spoke to Munyeong warmly and without pretension.
“Oh, Munyeong!”
He was waving at Munyeong with a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Munyeong gave a small smile and bowed.
“Hello.”
“It’s been ages—”
“Has it?”
“I feel like I never see you anymore. I heard your cleaning area changed?”
He kept the conversation going with easy familiarity, and the employees nearby gave the two of them a look, as if they found it strange.
“Yes. One of the other workers quit, so.”
“What a shame. There’s definitely a difference, I’ll give you that.”
It was a compliment to Munyeong, but it was also a dig at someone else at the same time, so Munyeong just gave a faint smile without comment.
“Oh, I haven’t touched this yet — do you want it?”
“Pardon?”
The deputy general manager suddenly held out the coffee he was holding toward Munyeong. Munyeong looked flustered and waved both hands in quick refusal.
“No, I’m fine. Please have it.”
“Don’t be so shy about it. You’re working hard, go on, take it.”
The gesture was excessive enough that the looks from the nearby employees became even more conspicuous. A silent why go that far kind of stare.
“…No, really, I……”
“In exchange, give the area a proper clean. People have been spitting on the floor up here, it’s disgusting.”
“Yes……”
Munyeong accepted the coffee he’d been pushed into taking with some discomfort, nodded, set it on his equipment cart and got back to work. Making too big a show of refusing would only draw more eyes, he figured.
“By the way, did you all see the Yeon brothers come in yesterday?”
One of the employees near the deputy general manager carried on naturally as he finished his cigarette.
“Yeah, yeah. That was my first time seeing the new managing director too, actually.”
Sweeping the floor, Munyeong caught the familiar subject of Yeon Haejeong drifting into his ears and thought, not for the first time, that standing out was something that followed the man everywhere — at school and at the company alike. Talk of him was everywhere around the building. Among the office staff, among the cleaning crew — he was the center of conversation right now.
“The women are going crazy over him apparently. Saying he’s ridiculously good-looking.”
“Honestly, they’re obsessed with faces.”
“Well, the vice chairman and the executive director are both quite the lookers too.”
“That new managing director is something else, apparently. I’d heard plenty of rumors about how the chairman dotes on his youngest — is it for the face?”
“What does a face get you at work? And what does some kid barely old enough to know anything understand about running a company?”
“The rumors aren’t great either.”
“How many times has our company’s stock dropped because of the scandals he caused over in the States?”
The group’s commentary on Yeon Haejeong went on with no end in sight. Even after they’d finished their cigarettes, they showed no sign of going anywhere, leaning into the conversation with evident enjoyment.
“Some guy who spent years living it up abroad — think he actually knows anything about running a company?”
“His credentials are impressive, though.”
“Like any of us here are lacking in that department.”
“Well sure, but still — compared to us — oh—”
One of the employees who had been gossiping away suddenly caught sight of something when he turned his head, and his expression went rigid. His face had drained in an instant. The deputy general manager, noticing, followed the direction of his gaze. And at the sight of the man there, the deputy general manager went just as stiff.
“Ah — good afternoon, sir!”
So rushed was he that he bowed sharply enough to send his employee ID card swinging up into his own face. Not a single person laughed. Every one of them had gone tense at the arrival.
Yeon Haejeong approached unhurriedly, whether or not he sensed the way everyone had stopped breathing — his expression was indifferent, and he gave only the smallest dip of his head in acknowledgment. Then he swept his gaze over Munyeong, who was cleaning alone off to the side of the cluster of employees, existing in what seemed like an entirely different world, and his lips gave a barely perceptible, displeased twitch.
“Good afternoon, sir. Kim Gyucheol, deputy general manager of IT Sales.”
The deputy general manager, with no trace of a moment ago’s commentary, rattled off his name and position stiffly with a thoroughly tensed expression.
“Oh, right—”
Haejeong answered with bored indifference, as if it was a bother, and tipped his head again. Then he leaned his back against the rooftop ledge, smoked his cigarette and scrolled through his phone. His complete disinterest in the people around him left the employees exchanging uneasy glances. They seemed torn between whether to keep trying to make themselves known to him, or whether to quietly slip away.
