He had decided not to tell Myungsoo about the interview after all. Since he had lost the exact moment to break the big news, he figured that it would be better to tell him the bigger news – when he was actually confirmed as a trainee for Royals.

The email had said that he would be facing a panel of senior staff at the interview. Understandably, he was nervous. He wasn’t sure what kind of questions he would be expected to answer. They might want to see his walking, so he practiced all morning. He had called up Sungyeol to tell him about his interview – he was the only person other than Mrs. Han who knew about the interview. With him, he felt a kind of familiarity that encouraged him to confide in him everything.

Even when he had learned about his adoption, he had told Sungyeol. He was comfortable sharing his secrets with Sungyeol, because he felt that he couldn’t disappoint him. Even if he didn’t get the job today, Sungyeol would never pity him or say he was disappointed. It was just impossible to upset his friend, which was just what he needed when he himself was upset.

Sungyeol had advised him to be himself.

“Relax and don’t try any flashy moves,” was what he had said. It was probably a good advice but Sungjong didn’t know how to relax when his teeth were chattering with nervousness. At one point, he had almost picked up the phone to call Myungsoo – if he accompanied him to the interview, he would probably be able to be more at ease. But he had changed his mind at the last minute – he was going to do this alone just to prove to himself that he could.

He fought rising trepidation as he entered through the glass door. The reception of Royals Magazine was very different from that of Star’s. It was a large circular room, newly painted. Half of the room was taken up by a half-moon shaped desk, where two heavily made-up girls sat really straight, with plastic smiles on their faces. The room was smaller than any room in the Star Magazine building but it was tastefully decorated with modern pieces of furniture and abstract artworks hanging from the walls.

Clearing his throat, he drew the attention of one of the receptionists, who looked at him enquiringly.

“Umm…I had an appoint-I mean an interview … I’m Lee Sungjong.” He chided himself inwardly for sounding so unsure.

You’re not going to win any votes without confidence, he reminded himself. Sungyeol had repeatedly instructed him to be confident; according to him, that was all they were looking for.

“If you don’t think you have got it in you, they won’t either,” he had said.

Right, confidence.

“Ah yes, you can go right in,” the secretary said with a smile, a genuine one this time, and pointed in the direction of another glass door, not the one through which he had come in.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, saying a quick prayer under his breath. Confidence, confidence, he reminded himself as he straightened his back and spread out his shoulders, even as he felt his throat drying horribly.

I can do this.

With a tingle on anticipation, he took a few steps inside the room, but then halted in surprise. He had expected at least 5 people in the panel but his interviewer was a sole man, seated at a large mahogany desk. The room was heavily carpeted and there were floor-to-wall versions of the front cover of the Royals Magazine adorning the walls. The man at the desk, who looked to be about 40, had platinum blonde hair and twinkling, mischief-filled eyes. the most shocking part about him was his clothes – he was dressed in a flamboyant attire, no doubt of the latest fashion trend, but all the colours didn’t seem to go well, so that he looked like he was wearing feathers of different colored birds.

Assuming it was the chief editor of Royals Magazine, he bowed low, then introduced himself.

“Ah yes, we have met,” the man said with a smirk, gesturing at him to take a seat.

Taken aback, he sat down, trying to recall when they had met.

“I see you don’t remember me.” He stood up – he was surprisingly a small man, Sungjong noticed. The fur coat he was wearing was probably to add bulk to his small frame. Compared to Myungsoo, he was completely unexpected.

“I’m Kim Kibum, the chief editor of Royals as you know,” he said, smiling at him again. “And you are of course Kim Myungsoo’s … husband.”

Sungjong gaped – he hadn’t expected Kibum to know that. But then again, he had been on the cover of Star Magazine with Myungsoo for their wedding pictorial so he had probably recognized him.

“Myungsoo is a dear friend,” he said in a tone Sungjong couldn’t quite place, it sounded more mocking than warm. “He must have told you about me.” Sitting himself down on his chair again, he looked at him, like he was studying him.

Sungjong adjusted his posture.

“I’m sorry, sir, he didn’t mention you. I guess he would have, but he doesn’t know I’m coming here.” Thankfully, his voice was stable.

“Is that so?” Kibum arched his eyebrows, a quirky smile playing on his lips. He picked up a pen with a large pink feather at its end and himself on the cheek with its feathery side. “Interesting, very interesting.”

Sungjong had no idea what was so interesting about it but he hoped this interview would be about him and not about Myungsoo. This was what he had tried to avoid, to be recognized for his husband and not for himself, when he had refused to apply to Star Magazine.

After staring at him for two whole monutes, the chief editor leaned forward and whispered, “So what are you doing here, instead of at Star? I’m guessing you’d have gotten the job right away?”

Glad to be asked that question, he quickly told him while he had avoided Star Magazine and how he didn’t want special treatment because of his connection to Myungsoo. When he finished, he saw that Kibum’s eyes were twinkling.

“I see,” he nodded, drawing invisible lines in the air in front of him with the feather end of the pen. “You see, we have an age restriction at Royals, we don’t take trainees above 20 years old.”

Sungjong slumped. He could feel all his hopes and dreams being crushed by Kibum’s feathery pen. With a stabbing ache in his chest, he realized he would never be able to achieve his dreams. He felt tears rushing to his eyes.

“But.” He looked hopefully as Kibum started speaking again. “There’s something about you, I have to admit. You’re a natural.”

He dared to hope. Involuntarily, he was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth in desperation.

Just give me one chance, just one, he chanted in his head.

Slowly, Kibum’s eyes traveled down his body, as if he was trying to match the pictures he had seen of him to the person. Hesitantly, Sungjong wondered if he should stand up and give him a better look. But it would look so awkward if he just stood up for no reason.

Apparently satisfied with his examination, Kibum let out a long breath.

“Like I said, you’re different, but there’s nothing I can do to go against company regulations.”

Sungjong’s heart was dangerously close to dipping again but he could feel that Kibum wasn’t done yet.

“However,” he drawled, taking his time to his lips, “there is one person who can, and he’s interested in you.”

His heart leapt with joy – finally – the fog had lifted, a ray of sunshine. Someone with the power to make his dreams come true was impressed by him – it was all he had wanted.

His voice tremulous with excitement, he said, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

Kibum’s smile grew wider.

“So I take it you’re willing to sign your contract?”

A contract – Sungjong’s head was spinning. He couldn’t believe his luck. True, he had prepared himself in the morning today to get into the company, but now, it was actually happening. Right in front of his eyes, his dreams were unfolding.

I made it happen.

“Yes, of course. Right away,” he confirmed breathily. His face was anything but composed, but Kibum didn’t seem to mind that. Smirking at him, he pushed a button that caused the arrival of one of the receptionists with the fake smile.

“Take him to see sajangnim,” he ordered her. Then turning to Sungjong, he extended his hand. With exhilaration tingling down his spine, he took his hand and was surprised by the firm shake. “You’ll see the CEO now, he’s the one who wants you in Royals. Remember to be polite.”

Bowing over and over again, he thanked him, before following the receptionist out of the room. Absent-mindedly, he padded behind her as she took him to an elevator and pressed a button. When they arrived at the floor, he was still dazed and didn’t notice where she was taking him. Finally, he found himself in front of a sliding door.

“Wait here, please,” the receptionist told him before leaving. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was waiting for when the door automatically started to slide open. Realizing it was his cue to enter, he quickly patted down the front of his shirt and took a deep breath.

As he stepped inside, the door behind him slid shut and he could hear a metallic click that told him that the door had been locked. Curiously, he raised his eyes to look around the wide space in front of him. He had supposed he was being taken to the CEO’s office but the room in front of him was decorated to be a personal space, a recreational room of sorts. There was a bed with very white sheets on one side while a set of stylish, plush sofas were laid out on the other. He could spy a small kitchen counter as well, where a coffee pot was gurling away. There were no posters or artworks on the wall and the only inhabitor of the room was facing away from him, looking out of a glass paneled window out into the streets of Seoul.

Assuming it was the CEO, he bowed, even though the man couldn’t see him. The man, whose pressed suit looked expensive, made no effort to turn around. He was tall and broad shouldered.

Confused, Sungjong said softly, “Sir, I am Lee Sungjong. Kibum-ssi…” He lost his voice as the man didn’t seem to listen to him.

Finally, he heard a low voice.

“Lee Sungjong. Yes, it’s been a while.” His Korean was slightly accented, only slightly.

“Sir?”

“I have looked through your portfolio. Can I just say, you look…delicious.”

Frowning at the back of the man, Sungjong wondered if he was in the wrong room. The CEO wouldn’t speak to him like that, would he? There was something awkward about the way the man formed his sentences, not exactly like a native speaker. He vaguely remembered reading an article about how Royals had been taken over by a wealthy Chinese company and had a new CEO.

“You have changed, you look calmer.”

He was becoming increasingly confused. This man spoke like he had known him before.

“Sir, I don’t understand.”

“No, neither do I. I don’t understand what Kim Myungsoo possesses.”

For the second time today, Myungsoo had been mentioned at Royals. His plan of not trying to associate him with Myungsoo was obviously not working.

Sungjong felt awkward, standing in the middle of the room and talking to the back of a man. They weren’t having much of a conversation anyway – the man was saying strange things that held no meaning for him.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The man waved his hand towards the sofa set.

Feeling lost, he walked over to the sofas and sat down.

“Sir, Kibum-ssi said you have a contract for me to sign?”

“That I do, Sungjong.” He spoke familiarly to him, like he had known him for a long time. Something within him stirred; he was getting a bad feeling.

I should be happy, why do I feel this way?

There was a heady smell in the room that he couldn’t quite place. The coffee pot blinked red, having done with the brew.

“Coffee?” The man asked, then without waiting for reply, he moved to the counter to attend to the pot. Even though Sungjong caught a glimpse of his side profile, he couldn’t picture his face.

The man took his time pouring coffee into two mugs.

“Cream and sugar?”

Sungjong shook his head, then realizing the man couldn’t see him, said, “No.”

He had no idea what was going on.

“Now we can properly catch up.” The man brought the two coffe mugs towards him. He looked oddly familiar and as he set down the mugs on the coffee table in front of him and sat down, Sungjong jumped to his feet.

Recognition hit him like a freight truck. His insides shriveled up as he desperately tried to prevent himself from screaming. Clapping his hand over his mouth, he watched with fearful eyes as the man in front of him crossed his legs, looking at him bemusedly.

“I see I haven’t changed that much.”

He hadn’t, to be honest. Two years ago, when he had last seen him, he had sported a different hairstyle; his hair had been longer and reigned back with a black-and-white bandana. Now he had shortly cropped hair but the eyes had remained the same, the same stone cold eyes, with puffy lower eyelids that were of a darker shade so that he looked like he had permanent dark circles.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he tried to speak, but all he could muster was, “Y-y-you…”

“CEO of Royals Magazine, does it surprise you? I have changed my ways. It was my dad, you met the old man, he’s scary. He wanted me to do something. So here I am, minding the Korean company he bought.” The man leaned back with a smile on his face.

He had known him as Tao, although that was just a nickname which probably only his friends used because Sungjong had heard his dad calling him by his real name – Zitao.

There was a reason he had met Tao’s dad – when Tao had kidnapped him from the University dorms and locked him up in a hotel room, his dad had been the one to release him. Apparently, it was the suite the old man was using, having come to Seoul to visit his son. He had been fuming when he had found him and Sungjong was sure he had smoke coming out of his nostrils when he had summoned Tao to the hotel room. He had seemed angrier about locking Sungjong up in his suite rather than locking him up against his will. But that wasn’t relevant anymore.

“Sit down, Sungjong. You don’t have time for an old lover?”

Shivering at the word, he did as he was instructed, mainly because he didn’t think he could keep standing on his shaking knees for much longer. Grabbing the mug to get himself a steadying drink, he averted his gaze from Tao.

It’s not safe to look directly at him.

“Do you want some whiskey with that? I remember you were preferential to alcohol.” He laughed, the hollow sound echoing around the room. Sungjong felt a drop of sweat appear on his forehead.

“Tell your old lover how you’ve been.”

Cringing, he put down the mug. He couldn’t understand why Tao insisted on using the word – lover – it held no meaning for him. When they had parted, they were practically enemies, any of their good memories already forgotten.

Sungjong had been in a few abusive relationships but no one had been as crazy or cruel as Tao. From the very first day they had met, he had known he was trouble. But even then, he had felt an attraction towards him. Later, it had turned out to be lust. Sungjong wasn’t a masochist, but even after all the pain Tao had caused him, for some reason, he had kept on giving him one last chance. And Tao too had no intention of giving him up. One night they were fighting, tearing at each others hair, the next they were cuddling in the bed after make-up . There had been physical attraction between them, Sungjong couldn’t deny that. That was the reason it took him so long to leave him. Although, he had tried to leave him several times but Tao hadn’t given up, even kidnapping him when he had tried to end it.

All in all, the relationship with Tao had only been a battle for him and he had the scars to prove it.

“I don’t know why we didn’t work out.” Tao’s voice was low and almost angry. He chanced a glance at him – there was a hard glitter in his eyes – foreboding.

“I’m here for the contract, sir, and I have to leave s-soon…” he stuttered, his courage failing him. Tao’s presence filled him with apprehension; it wasn’t something he could take lightly.

“I doubt Kim Myungsoo is richer than me. He works for a company, I own a company.”

“You don’t own anything, they’re your father’s,” Sungjong reminded him quietly. The coffee was probably working – he felt a calm determination as his heart became steadier.

There’s nothing to be afraid of, he’s just a bully and you have fought him before, he reassured himself.

“Whatever,” he flicked his finger disinterestedly. “That is not the point though. The point is you chose him over me.”

His dark eyes were suddenly blank, causing Sungjong’s heart to stop for a second. He was familiar with that look; it was this look that had made him believe that Tao was soulless. Every time he had hit him, he had that morbid look in his eyes.

“No I didn’t. We were over long ago. This has got nothing to do with you. I love Myungsoo.” Sungjong had to pat himself on the back for being able to utter all those words without faltering, even when Tao wore that look. But he wasn’t going to be intimidated by him anymore; University was over and he had grown. He wouldn’t cower from the same men twice.

“We were never over,” Tao snapped suddenly. “I didn’t let you go. You ran from me.”

Gulping, Sungjong picked up his mug and took a hearty swig. His throat was awfully dry. As much as he liked to keep his courage up, there was something haunting and cruel about the way Tao looked at him that dried his soul.

This is no time to be weak, he told himself, trying to ignore the tremblings of his knees.

“If this is all you have to say, I’m going to leave,” he warned, taking another large gulp of the coffee. The hot drink helped to relax his nerves.

Tao stared at him for a minute before smirking. The smile did not reach his eyes.

“Let’s talk business then.” Getting to his feet, he walked back to the counter. When he returned, he had a sheaf of printed paper in his hands, which he placed on the table in front of them. Sungjong had to squint to read the first few lines and realize it was his contract. Swallowing hard, he tried to make up his mind – would it be wise to sign with Royals, knowing that Tao was the CEO. There was no doubt the man held a grudge against him for leaving him, so wasn’t this just a ploy to bring him under his power so that he could get his revenge?

Sipping his coffee, he delayed his reply. Tao seemed to watch him with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“What if I don’t want to sign the contract now?” he finally asked, his hand trembling as he set down the mug. He realized he was wasting his one chance to achieve his dreams.

“You don’t get out of this place without signing the contract,” Tao replied matter-of-factly.

Startled, Sungjong looked up at him. There was no doubt he was speaking in seriousness.

“W-what do you mean? I want to take the contract home and read through it before I sign it. Surely, you can allow that?”

Tao’s smirk grew wider. Leaning forward, he said bitingly, “No, I can’t.”

Sungjong immediately sprang to his feet but before he could express his outrage, he felt the world spin around him, the floor beneath him feeling unstable. He looked down to see what was wrong and his vision blurred, a sharp ache attacked his temple. His legs gave away and he tried to reach out and grip something to break the fall but he couldn’t see through the blurriness. He waited for the fall, but it never came. Instead, strong arms gripped him on his sides. Squinting as his headache became sharper, he saw Tao, whose face was moving closer towards his. Too close. There was a deep pull that covered him in drowsiness. He was well and fit, so he shouldn’t be feeling like this now?

The sound of Tao’s throaty laughter rang too close to his ear.

“I couldn’t resist,” he said, which caused his blood to run cold.

The coffee, he thought bitterly. He had put something in the coffee.

“Y-you-” he sputtered, unable to keep his eyelids open anymore. His hands were desperately pushing against Tao’s hard chest but the despicable man clung onto him stronger, his face creeping towards him with a victorious smirk.

“Oh Sungjong, how much I missed you,” he whispered dangerously close to him, making his skin crawl.

His weak protests were in vain as Tao’s mouth closed over his and he faintly sensed his tongue before the fogginess descended completely on his brain, and he couldn’t recall anymore.

---

The man sitting in front of him had unusually sharp eyes; apart from that, he had very regular features that helped him to blend in with the populace. There was nothing to suggest in the causal T-shirt shirt and jeans he had donned on that he was a professional. However, Myungsoo had heard about him from Yonghwa, and his friend trusted him completely. There was no reason for him to doubt him.

“As I said, I need your help. A certain colleague has become a reason for worry.”

The man chewed his bottom lip nonchalantly before asking, “You suspect him?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

Sighing, he told the man all that had happened for him to suspect Sunggyu. He explained what Sungyeol had told him as well as Yonghwa.

“Can you think of a reason why he might be doing something like this?” the man asked. He was not noting down any information and he didn’t have a recorder with him either.

I hope he knows what he’s doing, he thought before answering the man’s question.

“I can think of several reasons actually,” he said quietly. But he had convinced himself in the past hour that Sunggyu was after his job. At first when Yonghwa had mentioned it, he couldn’t think of how destroying Star Magazine’s reputation helped him win the job. However, after thinking about it deeply, he had figured it out – there was a thing called ‘three strikes, out’ in the business, where the chief editor was allowed to make three big mistakes before he would be sacked. There was no official rule regarding this, but the CEO was known to act accordingly.

“He’s trying to put me in the three strikes zone,” he told the man, and explained all about it. The loss of Paris Fashion Week had been strike one, his engagement cancellation and wedding to Sungjong was strike two, and now there remained only one more chance. If somehow Sunggyu could arrange for that, Myungsoo would be out of the office. After that, while the CEO looked for a new chief editor, and Sunggyu was the acting chief editor, he needed to pull one large victory to seal his place at the chief editor’s office.

According to his calculations, the third strike would probably come in a few months time, just before the Paris Fashion Week, so that Myungsoo would be driven out and Sunggyu would win Star their very first Paris Fashion Week entry ticket and be hailed as their savior.

“I see,” the man nodded. There had been no change in his expressions since he had entered the room. His face was difficult to read and Myungsoo was feeling anxious. Had he made the right decision to bring him in? “So you want proof?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I need to show my CEO what Sunggyu is actually doing, and for that I need concrete proof. Can you find any?”

The man smiled for the first time.

“That’s a detective’s job, isn’t it – to find what can’t be found. You’ll have them in a week’s time.” With that, he stood up and loped towards the door, where he stopped and turned around. “You’re going to write me a check, right?”

“Yes.” Myungsoo hurriedly pulled out his checkbook from the drawer and filled a page in. Tearing it, he handed it to the man, who had come back for it.

Taking a lazy look at the amount, the man chuckled.

“You’re paying me up front. Good, I won’t disappoint you.”

You better not, thought Myungsoo. It was time he found out who Kim Sunggyu really was.