SIXTEEN

Chanwoo quirked his eyebrows and shook his head defiantly. “No,” he said sternly.

Ju-ne pouted, his face creased in disappointment as he put down the bottle of soju on the table and Chanwoo’s lips curled slightly at the corner, a small smile. “You’re always saying no to drinking with me,” he muttered.

“That’s because you’re always asking me on a working night,” Chanwoo sighed. “I can’t go to work tomorrow morning with a hangover,” he chided. He placed two pieces of large meat on the grill mat in front of them and instantly it sizzled, the fire hissing loudly from the charcoal cooking underneath.

Ju-ne continued to pout. “I really wanted to drink with you tonight,” he sulked, his voice tinged with a whine. “Hanbin hyung and I have a presentation in front of a client tomorrow.”

Chanwoo raised his eyebrows. “All the more reasons not to drink,” he scolded. “I know you have a high tolerance but turning up in front of a client when you’ve been drinking the night before, it’s not a good impression.”

Ju-ne glared at him. “It’s not like I’m going to turn up completely hung-over,” he retorted. “It’s just…” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his fingers playing across the table. “I’m nervous about it,” he murmured.

“Why?”

“Our clients wants to know what ideas and concepts we’ve come up with for their new product advertisement.”

Chanwoo flipped the meat. He folded his arms on the table and tilted his head, gazing at Ju-ne. “You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, we have but…” Ju-ne sighed, his cheeks blowing out. “Hanbin hyung and I are terrible with speech talking, you know, standing in front of people on stage. I get so nervous that sometimes I forget what to say and when they ask me questions, I stumble over my words.”

“You have stage frights?” Chanwoo asked, bemused.

“Not like that. We’re good at our job, we’re confident in our ideas but having those judging eyes on you the entire time,” he shook his head as if he’s trying to shake off a bad thought, “And they don’t say anything at all the entire time!”

Chanwoo smiled, chuckling softly, and Ju-ne’s heart fluttered. “If let’s say, your boss or me you’re presensating in front of, would you still be nervous?”

Ju-ne tilted his head, pondering. “I guess not,” he murmured.

“Then use that,” Chanwoo pointed out. “That’s what I do when I have to present in front of the people in the company. Sometimes, I imagined I’m talking to empty seats or I imagined them as children.”

“Children?” Ju-ne laughed.

“It works for me.” Then he leaned forward a little, a mischievous look on his face. “There’s also an old-aged trick.” Ju-ne’s eyebrows curved. “You imagine them ,” he murmured, his voice low.

Ju-ne’s eyes popped, shocked, and then he threw his head back and laughed out loud. Chanwoo smiled, laughing too.

“You don’t actually imagine them , do you?” Ju-ne asked, still laughing.

“Oh, god, no,” Chanwoo said, horrified. He thought of his grandfather, father and Taeho, and grimaced. “That will be one horrible nightmare.”

“Do you present a lot in front of people?”

Chanwoo examined the meat carefully, his eyes trailing over the skin. He nodded his head to himself when he saw that it was fully cooked and ready to eat. He grabbed the scissor and cut the meat into small pieces. “Sometimes,” he answered. “Although, I have meetings more than presentation.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m the Chief Financial Officer.”

“I mean, what is your job about?”

“Oh.” Chanwoo swept the cut meat to the side and placed another uncooked meat on the grill mat. “I manage the company’s finances.”

“That’s a huge responsibility.”

“It is,” Chanwoo agreed.

“So, you work right under the Chairman?”

Chanwoo nodded his head. “Hhmm.”

“Does that mean, one day, you can become the Chairman?”

Chanwoo frozed, his heart pounding. He raised his head up and looked at Ju-ne, and smiled. He laughed a little but he could feel the heavy dread spreading in his veins. “No,” he said quietly.

Then, Ju-ne chuckled softly, shaking his head a little.

Chanwoo frowned. “What?”

“When we first met you, Hanbin hyung thought you were a chaebol,” Ju-ne said, smiling. “He thought because you studied overseas from when you were young and the fact that you work at such a big company, you were the son of a CEO or something.” He laughed, “He also thought you were a mafia’s son.”

Chanwoo’s body tensed but he remained composed, and gave a small smile, not saying anything.

Suddenly, Ju-ne frozed and he gauged Chanwoo. “You’re not a mafia’s son, are you?” he asked, his voice low and careful.

Chanwoo gave a small laugh under his breath, his body still tensed. “No, Ju-ne, I’m not.”

Ju-ne relaxed. “Right? I knew that – that’s just impossible.”

Chanwoo brushed off his knotted stomach and placed a piece of meat on Ju-ne’s plate, steering the topic that they’d stumbled dangerously into away. “Eat. You said you were hungry.”

Ju-ne was easily distracted. He tapped the side of the soju bottle and raised his eyebrows, his expression hopeful. “So, you’ll drink with me?”

Chanwoo sighed. His stomach was still knotted tightly, severing his appetite, but his heart pulled. “Fine.”

Ju-ne’s eyes widen, excited and Chanwoo felt warmth creeping in and slowly his stomach’s tight knot loosened, and his heart fluttered. “Really?” he said.

Chanwoo slid the shot glass next to the soju bottle. “Just one drink, though,” he said, sternly.

Ju-ne jumped right in. “Two,” he bargained.

“One.”

“Come on,” Ju-ne coaxed.

Chanwoo shot him an incredulous look. “I’m driving!”

“According to the law, the legal limit of alcohol in your system is 0.03% or 30mg per 100ml of blood.”

Chanwoo stared at him. “It’s scary how you know that when you can’t differentiate the moon and the sun,” he deadpanned.

Ju-ne scowled. “I told you that in strict confidence not so you could make fun of me.”

Chanwoo grinned.

“Come on, two shots,” Ju-ne whined.

Chanwoo sighed albeit endearingly. “Ju-ne, do you know that 0.03% is equivalent to one shot of soju?”

Ju-ne blinked at him. “Really?”

Chanwoo smiled softly, his heart warming. He’s really cute, he thought.

“Fine, one shot,” Ju-ne sulked. “But you have to have a full drinking session with me! Like, drinking and talking over dinner until we’re almost drunk!”

“Okay,” Chanwoo smiled.

“Promise.”

The tight knot in Chanwoo’s stomach returned and the warmth in his heart disappeared, it felt heavy. He pursed his lips. “Sure,” he murmured.

Ju-ne lit up, he smiled goofily as he shook the soju bottle and then twist the lid open. He expertly pour the strong liquor into the glass shots in a quick, precise move without a spill. He held the glass high and nudged Chanwoo to do the same. He smiled and clink their glasses.

The liquor burned Chanwoo’s throat but he swallowed it down, ignoring the protest of his tightly, knotted stomach.

******

Ju-ne felt warm, flushed and a little fuzzy. The perfect combination of happiness. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling that he could feel it tingled in his skin, little jolts of sparks that made his heart jump and flutter.

And love. But that feeling was so new, so raw, that he hesitated, deciding to let it float first before grabbing it with surety. He wanted to walk with Chanwoo, learning to synchronised their steps, and then later, when they hands are tied together, ran with him. At the same pace.

He gazed at Chanwoo driving the car, quietly, admiring his handsome face; his large eyes, his sharp nose and his small, soft, pouty lips. He felt his heart skipped a beat. “You’re always driving me home,” he murmured.

Chanwoo glanced at him, a fleeting amused smile on his face. “That’s okay,” he said, softly.

Ju-ne looked ahead and caught the street name passing by. His heart dropped a little. This is his street; they’re 2 minutes away from his apartment. He didn’t want the night to end, he wanted to freeze the time to make his moments with Chanwoo last longer. They do see each other often nowadays, spending longer time with each other, but he still felt disappointed every time the night ends and they say goodnight; it doesn’t feel enough.

Chanwoo stopped and parked his car in the usual spot outside his apartment building.

“Let’s see each other tomorrow.”

Chanwoo hummed quietly. “Sure.”

“We can just go to Yunhyeong’s restaurant.”

Chanwoo smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Ju-ne leaned forward and kissed Chanwoo. His heart lurched when Chanwoo’s hand cupped his jaw, his head tilting and deepened the kiss.

******

Yunhyeng scowled, his eyes narrowing, and his arms folded across his chest. He stared at them, jealously bubbling inside of him. He watched, teeth clenched tightly, as Ju-ne leaned into Chanwoo, a hand on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. If his eyes had the power to zoom, he could also see the way Ju-ne’s lips lightly brushed against Chanwoo’s ear, his breath tickling Chanwoo. Chanwoo laughed, his head tilted back and his eyes crinkling into a crescent shape.

Yunhyeong grind his teeth.

It used to be him, only him, that could make Chanwoo laugh like that.

“You know, if you glared at them any longer, lazer would be shooting out of your eyes,” Jinhwan deadpanned. When Yunhyeong ignored him, he muttered amusingly, “Maybe I should call Jiwon and tell him that there’s a dangerous man here that’s about to murder Ju-ne for flirting with his little brother.”

Yunhyeong glared sharply at him.

“And…he’s about to kill me too. If you go to court, you’ll be charged with premeditated murder, you know.” Jinhwan laughed, “Leave them alone. You’re acting like a jealous, obsessed ex-lover.”

Yunhyeong crumbled, his face creased disapprovingly. “He’s my little brother,” he whined.

“Who’s happy!”

Yunhyeong softened, his heart immediately melted. “Yeah,” he murmured. Then he smiled, “Ju-ne too.”

Jinhwan glanced at them, his lips curling into a smile. “Yeah, Ju-ne too,” he said, warmly. “It looks like things are working out for them.”

“I guess I should be glad that Chanwoo is with one of my friend,” Yunhyeong sighed, sadly, his face crestfallen. “At least, I know he’s with someone great and kind.”

Jinhwan patted his arm, sympathetically. He doesn’t have the same feeling as Yunhyeong does even though Ju-ne is like his little brother, but his older sister got married recently and he knew how bittersweet the feeling is. “He’ll still be your little brother, Yunhyeong. But you’re being a little dramatic, they’re still just seeing each other and not getting married yet.”

Yunhyeong scowled. “I’m going back to work,” he huffed angrily.

******

Ju-ne scooped a spoonful of the shared triple ice cream bowl and pop it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the cold, creamy dairy before letting it melt completely in his mouth. He glanced at his side, watching Chanwoo do the same and smiled.

“How did your presentation go?” Chanwoo asked.

Ju-ne beamed. “It was great! The client loved our idea and concept and gave us the green light. So, now we’re good to go! We’re having the first meeting tomorrow with the others to discuss how to put it together, you know – like finding the venue, model, booking a director – the whole lot,” he rambled.

“That’s great, Ju-ne,” Chanwoo smiled.

“I…erm…” Ju-ne grinned and lowered his voice. “…used the trick.”

Chanwoo laughed. “Of course, you did,” he snorted.

Ju-ne winked playfully. “Anyway, how was your day?” he asked.

Chanwoo shrugged. “It was okay.”

“Really? Nothing big happened?”

“No. It was the same thing.”

Ju-ne nodded, “Okay.” He dug his spoon into the ice cream. “So, I was thinking that this weekend after your coaching, we could go watch a movie. They’re showing another of my favourite at the Korean Film Archive.”

Chanwoo gave an apologetic look. “I’m sorry but this weekend, I can’t. I’m cancelling baseball because I have to go to Busan on Thursday for work and won’t be back until Sunday.”

“Busan? What for?”

“There’s a World Economic Forum and they annually hold a forum meeting to discuss the world’s economics and this year they’re doing it in Busan. I get invited every year but this time, my attendance is compulsory as I’ll be representing the company.”

Ju-ne tilted his head. “Can I come?”

Chanwoo stills. “You can,” he said, carefully. “But I’ll probably won’t be able to see you since I’ll be in meetings the whole time.”

Ju-ne was excited. Busan and Chanwoo, he loved the idea of it. “What about Satuday and Sunday? You can’t be in a meeting then – you said you’ll go home on Sunday.” He waited, chewing the inside of his lips, as Chanwoo pondered.

“I guess, I’ll be free then,” Chanwoo murmured. “But I can’t be sure, I haven’t checked my schedules properly.” But Ju-ne was barely listening and he let out small, amused laugh when he saw Ju-ne’s lit up expression. “You’re really going to come?”

Ju-ne faltered a little. “You don’t want me to?”

Chanwoo smiled softly. “Ju-ne, you can come if you want.”

Ju-ne grinned. “I’ll come.”

******

Chanwoo was surprised when his father approached him, pulling him aside after a meeting, and invited him to dinner. His father was stoic and brusque but polite so Chanwoo agreed, knowing very well that there was an agenda, a reason, to the impromptu dinner invitation. The last time his father had dinner with him was to tell him that he was going to China. So, he set his expectation low and was not at all surprised when he was ushered to the table and Taeho was already there, next to his father. He kept composed and smiled as he sat down.

Taeho sat up and glowered at him; and ignored him throughout the dinner, purposely made in-jokes with his father to taunt him, to prove that unlike him, he had the affection of his father.

Chanwoo was unfazed and felt bored. He politely indulged in listening to their conversations until his patience ran out. It was after the dessert plates placed in front of them that he finally spoke.

“Father, what is that you wish to convey to me?” he asked, curtly.

His father and Taeho stared at him, surprised at his outspoken interruption. He ignored Taeho’s annoyed expression and gazed at his father with dull eyes. When his father’s jaw clenched, he lowered them; after all, in spite of their restrained, complicated relationship, he was still his father and he respected him.

“You asked me to dinner because there is something you want to talk to me about,” he said, bluntly.

His father cleared his throat. He patted his napkin against his mouth, wiping away an invisible stain, and then scrunched it up in his hand and messily laid it on the table next to his plate. He exhaled through his nose. “The investment of the OhSung buildings,” he stated.

Chanwoo sighed inwardly. Suddenly, he felt tired and his shoulders felt heavy; and suddenly, all he wanted was to see Ju-ne and hear him laugh and smile that could always make his bad day go away, make him feel light, make him smile.

Sometimes, especially in a moment like this, Chanwoo understood his grandfather’s dislike for his father because he was right; his father ran business with his own interest and not with logical reasoning, a quality that, more than often, puts the company in a difficult, tied-up, position.

The Chairman of OhSung company was his father’s friend, near bankrupt and with suspicion of money extortion by Seoul Prosecutors’ Office, and he was determined to invest in their projects to help his friend. His grandfather angrily refused and Chanwoo agreed; investing in a soon-to-be bankrupt company would result in more loss than profits; it would bring down the company’s stocks as well as the danger of scandals they’d be roped into.

Chanwoo was exasperated with his father. He pursed his lips into a thin line as he listened to his father defend his friend, ranting about the final decision of rejecting the investment and challenging him of his official report he did as the Chief Financial Officer, rebutting every single of his words.

“OhSung wants to give us 25%. This is a good move.”

Chanwoo sighed. “Then, I wonder, why go all the trouble of asking me to come here and asking my opinion when, clearly, you’ve already made up your mind about the investment?”

His father’s jaws clenched. “Protocols, apparently.” His voice was laced heavily with mocking.

Chanwoo nodded curtly. He swallowed the sharp pain in his heart. He should’ve got used to this, his father hatred of him, but he doesn’t and it hurts every time. “Father, you are the Vice Chairman. You're above me and possess more authority and power than I do. You don’t need protocols or my consent to make a decision or an investment.”

“You’re right, I don’t," his father replied, dryly."I didn’t invite you to have dinner for that." He smirked. "It’s not you I’m trying to convince.”

Chanwoo frowned. “You want me to persuade Grandfather of your decision?”

“I can talk all day and you can write reports all you want but we all know that doesn’t matter because the final decision, the final saying - that power is in the Chairman’s hands.” His father leaned back on his chair, his shoulders squared and his head held so high that it was as if he was looking down at Chanwoo, confident and smug. Chanwoo felt his stomach dropped with a heavy dread. “He favours you. He trusts you more than anybody, more than the Board members.” He smiled bitterly, “Even his own son.”

Chanwoo was stumped. He stared at his father in disbelief. “I am not going to be put in that position.”

His father’s face hardened. Suddenly, he smiled. “How’s your brother doing? He has a restaurant, doesn’t he? I believe that building he's renting is one of ours. It would be ashamed if he were to lose it.”

“It would be pretty hard to get a new building. And at an affordable price with the shape of our economy nowadays,” Taeho added, smugly. "Especially since your brother is just starting."

Chanwoo felt his blood boil and he clenched his hands into a fist, so tight that his knuckles turned and his fingers dug into his skin.

******

Chanwoo laid on his bed in pitch dark. He stared absentmindedly at the ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes fixed on the carved pattern. He clenched his jaws, his heart pounding hard from anger, igniting fire running in his veins.

His phone vibrated.

It was a message from Ju-ne.

Hey

How was your dinner meeting?

His phone vibrated.

Are you home?

His phone vibrated.

You must be tired.

Goodnight.

He ignored the messages. He turned his phone over and closed his eyes. His chest hurts so painfully, so suffocating.