Yeonjun tilted his chin toward Beomwook’s phone. “Executive Director. Your phone.” Even as the words followed, Beomwook kept staring at him with a blank, stone-still face.
“…Fine, I’ll just get it myself then.”
Getting no reaction, Yeonjun shook his head a few times and ended up grabbing the phone himself. He moved his fingers across the screen in a few swipes, then looked up at Beomwook with a small laugh.
“What. Your security pattern is ridiculously easy. I figured it’d be ㄴ or ㄱ, but I didn’t actually think I’d get it right.”
“…What do you think you’re doing, Yeonjun.”
“There, there. All done, Executive Director.”
Before Beomwook could stop him, the phone screen was being thrust right in front of his face. Beside it, Yeonjun’s own face — bright and flushed — appeared alongside.
[Baek Yeonjun]
What was on the screen was Yeonjun’s name, sitting at the very top of the contacts list. The furrow between Beomwook’s brows tightened for a moment, then slowly eased.
“Baek Yeonjun. Saved it under my name. Whatever happens from now on, I’ll tell you directly.”
“……”
“The security is fine. Just keep blocking the articles. I’m counting on you, Executive Director.”
Yeonjun handed the phone back, his voice soft as he spoke. “Executive Director, by the way — you don’t use messenger apps? Should I install one for you?” Even at Yeonjun’s voice, which carried a hint of delight, all Beomwook could do was nod along slowly.
Baek Yeonjun.
Those three ordinary characters of a name had begun drifting through Beomwook’s mind, back and forth, back and forth.
The first day of the semester arrived — Yeonjun’s first day back on campus.
Hat pulled low and hood drawn up over it, Yeonjun slowly scanned his surroundings. Fortunately, no one seemed to have recognized him yet. A major lecture first thing on Monday morning was exactly the kind of thing he’d normally groan about — but right now, being grateful that he had fewer classes than usual was easier. Yeonjun started walking.
Since that day, true to Beomwook’s word, not a single article tied to Yeonjun could be found anywhere. But that hadn’t put even a dent in the curiosity and constant reach-outs from people who knew him.
A sudden flicker of the past few days crossed his mind, and Yeonjun shook his head with a tight expression.
“Baek Yeonjun. Are you not coming home? Mom’s about to faint from shock!”
“Yeonjun, it’s Mom. You can be honest with Mom — come home and explain things, okay?”
First had been his older sister Baek Yeonwoo, five years his senior and still living at home, who had bombarded him with messages without rest. His mother, too — having apparently heard the news late — had flooded him with missed calls and texts. He’d made his excuses — said the scandal wasn’t true, that he’d just gotten caught up in it while doing a part-time job — but neither of them seemed to believe a word.
The most headache-inducing reaction of all, however, was:
“Dad always thought Yeonjun wouldn’t be the one getting married — he’d be the one being married into a family!”
“I’m rooting for our Yeonjun~^^ Go, go, fighting!”
His father, who had taken the exact opposite position from the rest of the family.
Even after that, his father had kept sending him links — books and articles all about marrying into a chaebol family, titles like I Married into a Chaebol Family and Savvy Chaebol Living — making a fuss and getting ahead of himself. He’d even started calling Beomwook his “son-in-law Do.”
“Hey, Baek Yeonjun? Have you lost your mind? BS Group’s Do Beomwook? For real? Are you seriously not going to be straight with me?”
“No…. It’s not like that. Things just kind of ended up that way. I’ll explain later.”
“What do you mean later. I always thought you — with that one decent face you’ve got — would finally make your move. You cried all the time as a kid, made alphas look bad, I gave you so much grief about it…!”
Baek Yeonwoo’s reaction had been no different. Her sharp, ringing voice was still vivid in his ears. Yeonjun felt a sudden chill and glanced around for no real reason.
He’d made it to the Business Administration building without being caught. But the mountain right in front of him was the real challenge. His family didn’t live with him, and brushing things off vaguely the way he had was possible enough. The problem was school — a minefield in every direction. Lucky for him, there were no familiar faces in the corridor near the lecture hall yet. Yeonjun let out a small breath of relief and carefully stepped inside.
“Hey! Baek Yeonjun!! Why are you ignoring my messages too!”
The moment he opened the unlocked door, a familiar voice rang out through the lecture hall. The voice belonged to Ha Minseok — one of the few classmates from Yeonjun’s year still around, practically a fossil of the Business Administration department. Minseok, who was also Yeonjun’s closest friend, pointed at him accusingly and made his fury known.
“Come on, I’m someone you can talk to. How could you do this to me too, hm?”
“…I’m sorry. I was seriously in over my head.”
Yeonjun hurried out an apology, but the room was already buzzing. With Ha Minseok’s outburst having drawn everyone’s attention to Yeonjun’s presence, the murmuring that built around him made it perfectly natural for his expression to go stiff in an instant. He’d braced himself for this — but it was every bit as hard as he’d imagined.
Beomwook’s neat, composed face and low voice surfaced in his mind without warning. School is a terrifying place, Executive Director…! Yeonjun had the sudden urge to bolt right back out the door.
It wasn’t until the teaching assistant and professor walked in that the gazes drifting toward Yeonjun finally stilled. He hadn’t done anything wrong — so why did he keep wanting to hang his head? He couldn’t hide the mix of frustration and hurt, and all he could do was let out a low, quiet sigh.
“Yeonjun. If anything happens at school, contact me or Secretary Choi right away.”
Sitting with his head bowed, staring blankly at his phone, Beomwook’s voice from a few days ago came back to him. The image of Beomwook that came with it pulled an involuntary smile to Yeonjun’s lips. Good thing I wore a mask today, he thought, and picked up his phone. He tapped open a familiar messenger app and touched the name at the top of his favorites — a default profile picture, no photo.
What kind of chaebol doesn’t use a messenger app or social media? These days, young executives and second-generation chaebol heirs were making personal SNS accounts a trend for image management and public relations. Yeonjun had even done research on the topic once, and he pursed his lips in mild disapproval.
Then, suddenly, he found himself wondering — what did Beomwook do with his free time? Was there anything he liked? He’d already looked him up, but information about Do Beomwook online was sparse. Beyond what anyone could find, Yeonjun wanted to know the more personal things.
He was drifting off in thought when Ha Minseok, sitting right beside him, nudged him.
“Hey, Baek. You only have morning classes today, right?”
“…Yeah. Why?”
“Stop by the seminar room later. I’ve got those materials you asked for.”
Had he asked for materials? Yeonjun nodded first and figured he’d sort it out later. Ha Minseok, who still hadn’t gotten the full story on the scandal, shot him a sideways look and held up his middle finger.
Until last year, Yeonjun had served consecutive terms as president of the Business Administration society FVS, and when it came to society matters, his body moved before his brain could catch up. Being in his final semester of fourth year, on track for an early graduation, was the only reason he’d managed to finally step down before the very end — it had been that close.
Yeonjun lightly tapped Minseok’s arm and returned the middle finger in kind.
[Executive Director! I’m at school!] 9:20 AM
[Have you gone into work?] 9:20 AM
The moment class started, Yeonjun sent the messages he hadn’t been able to get out earlier due to Minseok’s interruption. He must be busy. I heard he goes in early. Just as he pulled his gaze from the phone and turned his head to actually focus on the lecture —
The screen lit up and a new message notification appeared.
Executive Director: [Yes. Is everything alright?] 9:22 AM
The concise, straightforward tone — it was so like hearing Beomwook’s actual voice. I really made the right call wearing a mask. Yeonjun let the corners of his lips stretch wide and typed quickly. He could feel Ha Minseok sneaking glances, but right now, sending a reply was more important.
Is everything alright. Beomwook had said to reach out if anything came up — but the standard for what counted as “something” had never exactly been defined, had it? Yeonjun decided to just keep him updated on what was happening.
[Everyone is staring at me] 9:22 AM
[I feel like a celebrity… ㅜㅜ] 9:23 AM
Yeonjun was still smiling beneath his mask. Nothing he’d said was technically wrong — but there was a mild, nagging prick of conscience about it, and he gripped his phone in both hands as though afraid it might slip away.
A few minutes passed. The replies that had been coming steadily went quiet. The read receipt had disappeared the moment he sent the messages, so Beomwook had read them — but then nothing.
And then, the dark screen flickered back on.
Executive Director: [What should I do about it] 9:30 AM
Executive Director: [Yeonjun, I’m in the middle of something right now. Please make sure to tell Secretary Choi exactly how to handle it.] 9:30 AM
Two messages pinged in. He was busy. Yeonjun glanced around quickly and typed fast.
[Hmm…. Should we just burn the school down?] 9:30 AM
[lolol I’m kidding, I’m fine — go handle your things! I’ll message you later!] 9:30 AM
He’d decided to keep staying at the hotel for the time being, so Yeonjun thought he’d go see Beomwook in the evening, and slowly set his phone aside. He needed to focus on class too — and Beomwook had said he was in the middle of something.
