Prologue
The world spun in dizzying circles before his eyes.
Minjun sat at the bar table with his chin propped on the surface, head bowed low. Beside him, Lee Byungho kept stealing anxious glances at his watch. Before long, the second hand had crept its way to midnight.
“Jo Minjun, you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You really don’t have to go home tonight? What about Baek Gangha?”
Baek Gangha…. Rather than answer, Minjun said nothing. Just hearing that name was enough to make his head feel like it might split open from the chaos inside.
Bzz— Bzz— His phone had been vibrating nonstop in his pocket for a good while now. He didn’t even need to pull it out to know that the screen would read Princess.
“…I don’t know. I’m thinking of not going home for a while.”
Having ignored every call that came through, Minjun murmured the words like a vow to himself. He’d declared his overnight absence with full confidence, yet instead of feeling liberated, he felt strangely guilty — like he’d committed some kind of crime. He supposed he’d spent too many years of his life being someone else’s errand boy.
But Minjun was not Baek Gangha’s dog. He was a person with free will, and he had every right to go wherever he pleased.
“I… I’m really not going home.”
As if to shake off the guilt creeping in, Minjun made the vow again.
“I’m running away.”
From this moment on, he was a free man.
…Well. Not for long, obviously. Just for a few days.
1. Not Unfair
Life is a little unfair.
Minjun had come to realize this around the time he entered middle school. More precisely — from the moment his father dragged him by the hand to meet that kid.
Baek Gangha. The youngest son of Baekwha Group. The person Minjun was meant to dedicate his body and soul to looking after.
The roles assigned to them the moment they entered this world had never changed, even after Minjun shed his school uniform and became an adult. When he was younger, Minjun would often look at Baek Gangha — who was so much younger than him — and think: Gangha has everything. I’m so jealous.
But unlike the younger version of himself who had occasionally resented Baek Gangha, Minjun no longer harbored any ill will — only a vague envy. He knew well enough that the benefits that came with supporting a scion of Baekwha Group were nothing to scoff at.
The only reason Minjun was even able to live in this penthouse was because Gangha needed a peer around his age to attend to him. He wasn’t sure what kind of support a high schooler who wasn’t even an adult yet could possibly need, but Minjun wanted to maintain his connection with Gangha for as long as possible.
When he heard the front door open, Minjun scurried out and took Gangha’s bag from him.
“Gangha, you’re home?”
With a manufactured smile plastered on his face, Minjun made his best effort to be presentable. The errand-boy instinct ran deep in his DNA.
A cool draft slipped in through the open door. Baek Gangha handed over his coat after his bag and swept his pale eyes briefly over Minjun without a word. As always, he didn’t seem to be in a particularly good mood today either.
“How did the college entrance exam go?”
“Fine.”
“Good work. Want me to help you check your scores?”
No answer came. Minjun stole a sidelong glance at Gangha’s profile — it was as fluid and graceful as something painted in watercolors. Long lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyes, and below them, his indifferent gaze held a warm hazel hue. His personality left a lot to be desired, but he was undeniably pretty.
Well used to Gangha’s indifference, Minjun trailed behind him as he walked in his school uniform, looking him over from head to toe.
Has he gotten even taller?
Minjun, who had always been tall for his age since childhood, used to find himself privately thinking Gangha was adorable whenever he looked down at the younger boy — but after Gangha hit a sudden growth spurt not long ago, their eye levels had reversed. He hadn’t measured it outright, but by the looks of it, Gangha was easily 190 cm. The one thing Minjun had ever had over him — height — was no longer anything to brag about.
Truthfully, Gangha and Minjun had started from entirely different baselines, so Minjun couldn’t even dare to be jealous. Unlike Minjun, who was a recessive alpha — practically hovering on the beta end of the spectrum — Gangha was a rare and prized dominant alpha. Minjun had taken the college entrance exam five times before barely scraping his way into Hankuk University — and even then, he’d nearly failed to make it, only slipping through as the very last admit — while Gangha was expected to pass on his first try. On top of all that, Gangha even had the kind of picture-perfect family that looked like it belonged in a painting.
If anything, the least the universe could do was balance things out down there — but on that day when Gangha had worn grey sweatpants, the glimpse Minjun had caught of what lay beneath…
Click. Gangha had gone into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Even knowing full well someone was following, closing the door came to him with practiced ease. Minjun glanced back and forth between the closed door and his own crotch and felt inexplicably deflated.
“Gangha, aren’t you hungry? What do you want for dinner?”
Minjun asked in the kind of syrupy tone one might reserve for a girlfriend. Knowing Gangha disliked loud noise, he spoke clearly and evenly from outside the door. There seemed to be some kind of response from inside, but the soundproofing swallowed it whole. Minjun carefully opened the bedroom door and stepped in.
“Sorry, it’s nothing major — I just wanted to know if you’d eaten dinner yet….”
“I’m having it with Sowon.”
Gangha pulled off his school jacket and held it out to Minjun. Minjun snatched it up promptly and hung it in its designated spot. Particular as he was, Gangha absolutely hated any of his belongings being out of their proper place.
“Sowon’s coming?”
Jin Sowon was one of Gangha’s high school friends — a dominant omega with a fair, delicate beauty. Most of Gangha’s friends had no manners to speak of, but Sowon was the sole exception who greeted Minjun without fail. A pretty face and a kind heart, all in one.
“She’ll be here at seven. Please have a meal ready.”
“Sure, got it.”
Seeing Gangha reaching for his tie, Minjun quickly held out his hand to take it. He was watching blankly as Gangha undid the buttons of his shirt one by one when their eyes met.
Gangha approached him slowly and dipped his head, drawing in a long, deep breath. Then those light brown eyes swept over Minjun from top to bottom at a leisurely pace. It was as if he was checking whether Minjun had gotten up to anything while he’d been away.
“Wash up first before you start preparing.”
“…Me?”
Minjun pointed to himself, caught off guard, and Gangha replied in his usual flat tone.
“Is there anyone else here besides you?”
“Do I smell? I washed up earlier…. My hair’s just flat from my nap.”
Gangha didn’t bother responding to Minjun’s perfectly reasonable explanation — instead, he held out his school uniform shirt. The white short-sleeved undershirt beneath was spotless, without so much as a speck on it, as though it were a reflection of Gangha’s own character.
“…Understood. I’ll wash up and then get started.”
Meeting Gangha’s gaze, Minjun managed an awkward smile. Damn, I have to wash again. Lazily rinsing only his hair would be caught and called out immediately, so he had no choice but to scrub himself down properly.
Worried Gangha might find something else to assign him, he slipped out of the room quickly. The school uniform shirt in his hands carried a fabric softener scent that felt entirely at odds with Gangha.
“Minjun, you need to treat the young master well. Even if he acts a little difficult, you put up with all of it. Understood?”
What had it been like the first time he saw Gangha?
On the day he first met Baek Gangha, his father had impressed upon him again and again that he needed to make a good impression. It was a rather harsh thing to say to a young child, but Minjun — who up until then had spent his days kicking a ball around on the field without a care in the world — had cheerfully answered “Yes!” without giving it a second thought.
“Minjun, would you like to say hello to the young master?”
“Yes!”
That day, Gangha had been hiding behind the housekeeper’s back, peeking out with just his head. Young Gangha was smaller and more delicate than Minjun, and above all, the prettiest person Minjun had ever laid eyes on in his entire life. Even his shy demeanor was so angelic that Minjun couldn’t tear his gaze away.
And so, in that moment, Minjun hadn’t caught what Gangha said the first time.
“…ty.”
His father and the housekeeper exchanged a troubled look. Meanwhile, Minjun — oblivious to everything — stepped forward, flushed with shyness, and extended his hand toward Gangha.
“Hi, Gangha. I’m Jo Minjun.”
“Dirty.”
“Huh…?”
“You stink, so get away from me!”
“Ow…!”
A shove to his chest sent Minjun tumbling onto his backside. The shock of being called dirty and smelly was so overwhelming that he didn’t even register the pain.
Gangha, who was deceptively strong despite his delicate looks, was staring down at him as though he’d just discovered the filthiest bug in the world. Minjun sat there, on the verge of tears, completely at a loss.
“…I— I’m not dirty….”
Muttering it in an aggrieved voice was useless. Gangha had already pinched his nose shut and was long gone.
Minjun sat crumpled on the floor like the world had ended, until his father pulled him up and tried to comfort him — saying something along the lines of the young master was just a little sensitive, so Minjun would have to be understanding.
It would’ve been nice if he’d firmly refused right then and there….
Unfortunately, back then, Minjun had been completely won over by the promise of the latest smartphone his father offered to buy him, and he’d nodded along without a fight.
Without ever knowing that his entire life would end up mortgaged to Gangha from that point on.
