“Sungjong, the executive editor wants to see you,” Woohyun shouted from his desk in an obnoxiously loud voice.

Sungjong looked up from his work, confused. If Minho wanted to see him, he would have texted him directly; he wouldn’t have called Woohyun. But then again, with an uncomfortable twist in his stomach, he remembered how everything had changed.

After the escaping from Myungsoo’s house, he had gone straight home and locked himself in his bedroom, not answering any calls. Minho had called him several times on Sunday; he hadn’t picked up. He had been hungover for most of the day, struggling to recall what had actually happened and how he had ended up in Myungsoo’s bed, but he had come up blank after much effort. He was sure though something had happened, and it involved Minho and strangely Myungsoo.

Before he remembered what exactly happened, he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Maybe that’s why he called Woohyun and not me.

They were at the office now and Sungjong was obliged to follow Minho’s order. But he had no wish to see the elder right now, or talk about the party. He already had too much on his plate, including an additional nagging worry.

I practically stole from Myungsoo hyung.

The gold pendant was heavy in his pocket, but he felt strangely attached to it so he couldn’t leave it at home. He had held on to it the whole of Sunday, flicking it open now and then to stare at the pictures inside. Every time he remembered the pictures, his heart would constrict painfully.

It had actually taken him some time to believe what he was seeing - the frozen faces staring back at him, but how could he not recognize his own fourteen-year old self? And the image of his best friend? Even now he had trouble believing that Myungsoo had his and Munsoo’s picture in the pendant all along and he had never replaced them.

The two people he loved the most – the two people who betrayed him.

If he had opened the pendant to find Jiyeon’s picture, it would actually have hurt him less. And he wouldn’t have felt this crippling guilt every waking moment. This was the biggest proof of how close he and Munsoo had been to Myungsoo’s heart – it was like being betrayed by your own blood. But back then, Sungjong hadn’t known…

Even if I did know, even if I had seen the inside of this locket, would I have behaved any differently?

It was a question he didn’t know the answer to.

“Stop daydreaming and get going, doofus, Mr. Kim is waiting,” Woohyun’s harsh voice broke the bubble of nostalgia, and he quickly got up from his seat, only to fall back down.

“Did you say Mr. Kim? Do you mean Sunggyu-ssi?”

From across the room, he could see Woohyun rolling his eyes condescendingly.

“Yes, you idiot, now hurry. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

A wave of nausea hit him – what would Sunggyu want with him? Their works never overlapped so he had zero interaction with the man in the office. Well, except for the times when he was threatened by him to leave Myungsoo alone. He had a feeling this meeting was exactly about that.

It’s about the party, isn’t it?

Right now, the person he feared the most at the office was Kim Sunggyu. No matter how good he was at his job, he was a terrible person, at least when it came to him, and Sungjong wanted to have nothing to do with him. But he was still his superior and he couldn’t ignore a direct order.

Weighed down by dread, he made his way to the executive editor’s office, muttering silent prayers under his breath.

“Hey,” Sungyeol greeted him outside Sunggyu’s office.

“Hi,” he managed to squeeze through his constricted throat. There was a painful lump stuck in his throat, his hands wouldn’t stop trembling. He was genuinely afraid of the man.

“Do you still not remember anything about the party?” Sungyeol asked empathically.

“No, I passed out.” He had not told his friend that he had woken up in Myungsoo’s bedroom – he wouldn’t be able to explain that anyway. For now, it was easier to tell anyone who asked that he didn’t recall anything. He had been in this situation before – drunk to the point of being amnesic, so he could pull it off convincingly.

“Why does Sunggyu-ssi want to see me?”

“No idea,” Sungyeol shrugged. “He told me to send you in.”

Thanking his friend, he approached the door, taking a deep breath. He knocked, was asked to go in; he squeezed in one last prayer before opening the door and entering the dragon’s den.

The editor’s office was similar in layout to Minho’s, slightly smaller than Myungsoo’s, but the general atmosphere was different. It was a lot more professional and bare than Minho’s cozy room – none of his personal effects were in view. Somehow, it matched with the personality of the Sunggyu he knew – the real one hiding behind the mask of a gentle smile.

Don’t lose your head, don’t be intimidated.

The loathsome man was leaning back on his chair idly, but his eyes were sharper than ever behind his glasses. There was not much on his desk so Sungjong’s view of the man was unobstructed – it didn’t make anything better.

Bowing deeply, he lowered his eyes to the floor; he would rather not look at the man.

“Sit down,” Sunggyu ordered in a quiet voice. For all he knew, it was the calm before the storm. “So Sungjong, how are you?”

His head snapped up and he gave the man a disbelieving gaze. Did he actually care about him?

Sunggyu took a deep drag from the cigarette he was holding between his fingers – something he hadn’t noticed before. Honestly, he had never seen the man smoke.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Sunggyu drawled, “I haven’t smoked in years. But after Saturday night…” he inhaled deeply, not breaking eye contact with the younger. His face was impassive and Sungjong had still no idea what was going on. “You frustrate me so much, Sungjong. So damn much.”

When he got to his feet all of a sudden, Sungjong flinched, surprising himself. Was he that terrified of the elder? He was a grown man, not a kid, despite the way Sunggyu spoke to him. Besides, he was not his boss, not directly anyway, so he had nothing to lose.

I have to stand up to him.

But as the man approached him slowly, like a predator closing in on his prey, he couldn’t find the courage to speak up. It was like his brain had slowed down and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Even if he did, he doubted he could produce a sound from his parched throat.

“You frustrate me to no ends,” Sunggyu repeated. He was only inches away from him now, his stance domineering, as he looked at Sungjong with steely eyes. “You never listen, never. The more I tell you to stay away, the closer you get.” He spoke the last sentence in a grave whisper.

At the same time, Sungjong felt a scorching sensation on his hand. Looking down, he found that Sunggyu had pressed the lit end of the cigarette on to his hand, causing the skin to singe. Crying out with pain, he moved his hand away, looking up at the man in disbelief. However, the expression on Sunggyu’s face was unchanged; there was no indication that he had just burnt a hole in his hand.

“Give me your hand Sungjong,” he calmly demanded.

He was cradling his hand in the other, pressing on the burn to reduce the pain.

“What are you-” Before he could finish, Sunggyu had snatched his hand, the burned one, pressing the cigarette onto the skin again. The look in his eyes was pure evil, but there was something else there as well, almost a challenge, as if he was daring him to cry out in pain again.

Grinding his teeth, he endured the splitting pain – he was not going to give Sunggyu the satisfaction of breaking him, making him into a pathetic crybaby.

“How-many-times-have-I-told-you,” Sunggyu stamped his hand with the cigarette for every word. He felt his skin hiss at the contact; he bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from screaming.

Endure it, don’t give in, he kept saying to himself bit he couldn’t prevent the tears gathering in his eyes, ready to stream down his cheeks. The burns weren't very deep but they were excruciating. His breathing turned shallow as he endeavored not to cry out.

“You're really something - you have you eyes set on the goal and you just won’t give up. And even using Minho to get Myungsoo’s attention - I have to say you're clever.”

“I did no such thing!” Sungjong protested, embarrassing himself by the sound of his shaky, small voice. With one false accusation thrown at him after another, he realised that keeping silent might be seen as a sign of surrender. “I didn’t – I don’t try to get his attention.”

Sunggyu tilted his head to one side with a mock look of exasperation.

“My job is to deal with adults not with delicious little brats like you. I mean I could deal with you, in another way entirely, in my bedroom preferably, but let’s not lose our professionalism here. Myungsoo doesn’t care about you.”

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “You don’t know that.”

For the first time today, Sunggyu’s lips curved into a sly smile.    

“The Myungsoo you used to know is gone. He feels the need to torture you, silly of him, but that's the story. Haven't you wondered why he keeps you around even after knowing you love him? It’s because he wants to see you to crash and burn. It’s not affection, it’s revenge.”

“Then why are you afraid that I’ll become a wedge between him and Jiyeon?” He couldn’t help it. He was angry and it wasn’t fair. Even though he was afraid of the man, he couldn’t let him be right.

His face became stern again; his eyes flashed dangerously.

“Because you're a manipulative , that’s why.”

Raising his fist suddenly, he smacked Sungjong across the cheek with force. It was too much for him. His knees buckled against the force of the blow and he was on the floor, kneeling in front of the man he hated now.

I don’t have strength for this.

“Ah look, you in your natural state!” Sunggyu exclaimed, dropping the cigarette close to him and crushing it under his foot. He moved closer to Sungjong so that his crotch was right in front of his face. He understood the insinuation but he was too washed out to stick up for himself; he didn't even have the energy to change his position. The tears were running down his face freely now as he struggled to breathe. The experience was agonising.

“Honestly tell me now,” Sunggyu’s voice was sinisterly mocking, “with your level of incompetence, how many people did you have to blow to get the job?”  When Sungjong didn’t reply, he continued tauntingly, “Howon gave you the job, didn’t he?  So that’s one. Who else? Minho for the modeling gig I suppose…”

He didn’t know how long he was there listening to the abominable voice drone on and on. His head swam and his eyesight went blurry with tears. If he had remained a second longer he would have fainted.

“Leave, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I have won the game. Leave with dignity while you can,” was Sunggyu’s last scathing remark.

He ran straight to the bathroom, ignoring Sungyeol’s concerned voice. He needed some time to gather himself. Sunggyu’s venomous remarks had hurt him – had he been feeding those lies to Myungsoo too? Did Myungsoo believe these things about him?

No wonder he hates me.

Running cold water over the burns on his hand, he swallowed the last few sniffs, biting down on his lips. He was done trying to change – he couldn’t get away from the past if he was around it all the time. In a matter of seconds, he made up his mind – he was going to quit the job, leave Seoul for good. He would go back to his parents in the countryside and live the rest of his miserable life there, away from everything he knew and loved.

It’s the only way I’m going to get any peace.

Thinking about moving calmed him down. In his mind, he imagined the green fields, the strawberry farms, the wide open sky of his village. He would be with his parents – nothing would come to harm him there.

Maybe this is what life holds for me.

With that, he went back to work, earning a suspicious look from Woohyun. He tried to smile at the man. He spent the time before lunch typing up his resignation letter, addressed to Howon. He felt sorry – the man had given him a job when he had needed it most; maybe he could give him some chocolates or flowers as a sign of appreciation. But nothing could change his mind about leaving.

I have to leave for good.

During lunch, things took a strange turn. He was going to sit down at his usual corner table at the cafeteria when Woohyun gripped him by the upper arm and dragged him to their table – the popular table, as he liked to call it - with Sungyeol and Taemin. Confused, Sungjong didn’t protest; Sungyeol gave him a reassuring smile. If Woohyun and Taemin were up to no good, Sungyeol wouldn’t have let him sit with them, so he felt a little more relaxed and started nibbling on his sandwich quietly.

But it was too quiet, unlike usual – Woohyun and Taemin were not the types to have their lunch in silence. Feeling uncomfortable, he looked up to find that the other three men were all staring at him interestedly, their lunch trays untouched.

Swallowing his food, he was about to ask what was going on but Taemin beat him to it.

“So?” he asked eagerly, leaning forward.

“So what?”

Woohyun clicked his tongue impatiently.

“Don’t play with us. We saw the boss going into the kitchen where you were getting it on with Minho-ssi. What happened next?”

“We saw Sunggyu-ssi dragging Minho out of the kitchen, passed out,” Taemin added conspiratorially.

“What?” Sungjong exclaimed, genuinely surprised; all this was new to him. Had Myungsoo really come looking for him? Why had Minho passed out? He hadn’t been as drunk as him and they had been together.

Suddenly, their interest in him became clearer – it was killing them to not have the latest gossip on the tips of their tongues. They knew something serious and maybe even scandalous had gone down at the party but they had no clue exactly what. The only witness to the events that they could interrogate was Sungjong.

“Guys, I told you he doesn’t remember anything,” Sungyeol tried to stop the other two from drilling Sungjong with their questions, but the way he blinked his eyes told him that he was curious as well.

Truth was, Sungjong was just as in the dark – the only thing he knew for sure was that he had woken up in Myungsoo’s bedroom.

“If you ask me,” Woohyun said importantly, “I think the boss might have punched him. I saw blood on his face.”

Sungyeol and Taemin nodded in unison.

“Or he could have shot him with his gun,” Taemin offered, taking a bite out of his sandwich aggressively.

Sungyeol shot him an exasperated look before commenting, “Maybe it was a fist fight.”

None of it made any sense. He had had a glimpse of Minho in the morning and he seemed absolutely fine. At least fine enough to come to the office.

“Why would they fight?” he asked.

The other three turned their gazes towards him.

“You tell us, you were there,” Woohyun remarked acidly. It was evident that he was angry about Sungjong not recalling the episode.

“I – I don’t remember,” he replied defensively, feeling lost and angry at himself. Why did he have to get drunk?

It wasn’t like he didn’t recall anything but the memory was blurry and out of focus. He faintly remembered Myungsoo’s kitchen, being there with Minho and then…he recalled hearing a loud bang.

What happened? Was it really a gunshot?

Abruptly, there was a loud noise beside them as someone slammed the door to the cafeteria shut, making everyone jump. Taemin and Sungyeol cursed while Woohyun rolled his eyes. As for Sungjong, it triggered a memory from that evening – he could picture the door to the kitchen being thrown open forcefully, a shadow emerging from the threshold. He remembered feeling very, very uncomfortable because of…Minho.

Like a blurry motion picture, he saw Myungsoo’s face, livid; he had charged forward, tearing Minho away from him.

Minho hyung…he was trying to…I didn’t want it, I didn’t like it…

Suddenly, the swelling tide of memory flushed through his brain and he had to cover his face with his hands to stop from screaming out. It was like a floodgate had been opened, an aerial had been orientated – he remembered it; he remembered being scared and cold, he remembered being saved; Minho was lying on the ground, knocked out cold.

In the semi-darkness, he remembered Myungsoo’s warm hand pulling at his. He had been terrified but the moment Myungsoo had approached him, he had felt relieved. Shocked and cold, he had let the elder take care of him. Even after everything that had happened, he had known that he was safe in his arms.

He saved me…again.

The three men pestered him some more about the details from that evening but when he refused to say anything else, claiming he didn’t recall much, they started talking among themselves, forgetting that he was sitting there right beside them. Sungyeol smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. At least he had his friend’s support.

He returned to his sandwich, picking at the lettuce thoughtfully. He wouldn’t have to face anyone if he quit today. Whether Minho had tried to violate him intentionally or he had just been drunk – he didn’t know. In fact, he didn’t care anymore since this was the life he would live behind forever.

And he knew for sure that this was the last time Myungsoo had saved him. Maybe he had done it for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was a parting gift. Because in a week the elder wouldn’t be at liberty to save him. It would all be over and Myungsoo would get the fairytale wedding he deserved. Betrayed by the two people he loved the most, he would finally have someone who would love him enough. As for Sungjong…maybe he wasn’t worthy enough for love.

When the wedding bells strike, who will save me?

---

As the lift came to a halt, Myungsoo inhaled deeply. He just had lunch with the project manager, who was responsible for arranging Taiwan Fashion Week. She was a fierce old lady with a pointed nose and a thick accent. She had been interviewing all the participants from all over the world – she called it quality control. Myungsoo had presented their line up – usually it was Minho or some other editor who would have done it, but the project manager, Ms Wu, insisted that she met the chief editors of each organization.

She had been merciless with her criticisms, so much so, that even Myungsoo’s confidence had wavered at one point. However, in the end, she gave her approval, almost half-heartedly, but it was enough for Star to be cleared for the fashion week.

While leaving the restaurant, he had run into Kim Kibum, the chief editor of Royal Magazine, their biggest competitor. It was no surprise that Royal had been selected for Taiwan Fashion Week as well. When they had exchanged polite pleasantries, he had noticed a wicked look in Kibum’s eye – he was no stranger to the man’s abhorrence for him. It was after he had become the chief editor of Star that they had finally overtaken Royal. Rumours were Kibum’s job had been under red light ever since then.

It was also no secret that Royal were gearing up for an attack to claim their number one spot back. With the backing of a huge Chinese company, they were throwing their all into the game. Frankly, Myungsoo was slightly worried. He had been distracted lately, which was not at all good for Star.

I have to pull myself together, he thought as he alighted from the elevator, nodding at Himchan, who had accompanied him.

He yet had to confront Minho about the party, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. As Sunggyu had correctly reminded him, any sort of friction between him and the executive editor would only hurt Star. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything – after what had happened, Sungjong would realize his mistake. Minho’s real character would have been exposed to him by now, causing him to distance himself from the executive editor.

As he made his way towards his office, he made up his mind to ask Sunggyu to deal with Minho. However, when he reached the reception, his footsteps slowed down. With his back turned to him, Sungjong was leaning against the PA’s desk, reading something intently, his head bowed. There was a huge bouquet of roses in front of him.

Silently, Myungsoo approached the younger from behind. As he got closer, the paper he was holding came into his view. It was a handwritten letter - a few phrases jumped at him – ‘very sorry’, ‘it was not my intention’, ‘I had no idea’, ‘forgive me, it’ll never happen again’. The worst had to be the one sentence towards the end – ‘I love you, Sungjong’. He didn’t need to see the signature underneath to know who had sent Sungjong the flowers and the letter.

There’s no way he’s going to fall for this…

He cleared his throat, causing Sungjong to jump and drop the letter. He spun around to face him, his hand on his heart. He had been so caught up in the letter that he had no idea about Myungsoo’s presence behind him.

With horror, Myungsoo saw tears in Sungjong’s eyes. Those eyes did not belong to someone who had been betrayed or played with – it was quiet obvious that there was forgiveness in his eyes.

No way, does he really think Minho’s real?

There was no mistaking the almost dreamy look in his eyes. He was stupefied – wasn’t Sungjong better than this? Faintly, he remembered Yonghwa telling him how Sungjong had a habit of sticking with the wrong people for a long time.

Without saying anything, he marched towards his office, leaving the tearful man behind. It’s none of my business, he told himself; at the same his hands were itching to strangle Minho.

Once in his room, he held his head in his hands, trying to understand the absurd situation. Was Sungjong really going to believe Minho?

He didn’t know how long he had been like that, fretting about the younger’s stupidity, but then Woohyun’s voice through the intercom announced that Minho was there to see him. He had decided to let Sunggyu deal with him, but he changed his mind.

“Send him in,” he said, bracing himself.

I can’t confront him directly, he reminded himself. If he attacked Minho here and now, he would only be attacking Star.

Minho came in with an apologetic smile. Before Myungsoo could say anything, he launched into an extended apology for his behavior at the party. He explained how he had lost his senses after getting drunk and how regretful he was about it. Tactfully, he avoided the mention of what had taken place at the kitchen.

Myungsoo had to admit his acting was extremely convincing for anyone who didn’t know him. There was nothing in his appearance to give away the fact that he was simply lying through his teeth.

“I’m fine but what about Sungjong?” Myungsoo finally asked, unable to listen to him silently anymore.

Minho’s smile broadened.

“We have reconciled; just a moment ago actually. So you don’t have to worry about any awkwardness between us, we can work together just fine.”

It was like the man sitting in front of him had stabbed him with a sharp knife, puncturing his lung and lacerating his heart. It was so absurd that he didn’t know how to react. Seeing his stony expression, Minho started to explain in details how he had apologized to Sungjong and they had talked it out – he didn’t want to listen to any of it. His heart constricted painfully as he tried to focus, but the pain was overwhelming. He dismissed Minho quickly before he did something silly. He had half a mind to take him by the collar and demand why he was playing Sungjong.

Pain is supposed to be good; it’s supposed to have a protective function. When you feel pain, you know to withdraw yourself from the situation so that you don’t get damaged anymore. However, too much of a good thing can be bad.

Myungsoo had removed himself from the vicinity of pain, but he had held onto it, too close. And that had turned him into someone he wasn’t. The pain had turned his insides ugly, so much so, that it wasn’t about the scars anymore. Knowingly, he had set out to inflict pain on the person he had loved more than himself. In doing so, he had pushed him into the arms of a cheating bastard who would destroy him.

Why should I care?

“Because once you love someone, you never quite stop loving them,” Munsoo had said to him over the phone. Was that really true?

But being in love with someone and being able to love someone were different things – given the current situations, could he really afford to be in love with Sungjong? As far as he could see, that road lead nowhere. He was someone else’s man, and the younger had fallen for Minho’s lies.

Maybe they were not meant to be.

Despite that, he would not – he could not just stand in the sidelines and watch Sungjong ruin his life; he would use his authority if he had to.

If it means Star will lose a valued employee, so be it.