That same night...
Far from the chaos at the riverbank, in a sleek, silent mansion lit with cold chandeliers, Hyunwoo sat alone in his dimly lit room. His house echoed with silence, the kind only wealth could afford—where the walls were thick and the people distant.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Agasshi" (Young Master), the maid's gentle voice called, "Dinner is ready. Please come eat before it gets cold."
"An meogeulge." (I'm not hungry), Hyunwoo replied flatly, staring out the window.
There was a pause before she spoke again, voice lower now, worried. "Your father is coming home tonight... please, Young Master. I don't want to see you get hurt again."
That made him flinch.
He slowly stood up and walked toward the door. The maid stepped aside quickly, bowing.
As he stepped into the dining hall, the long table stretched endlessly in front of him, set for many—but always empty. He sat at his usual spot, picking up the silverware like it was a performance he'd been trained to do since childhood.
The maid quietly poured soup into his bowl.
"You're the only person I think who cares about me," Hyunwoo said suddenly, eyes on the table. "My own family... they don't give a damn."
The maid didn't answer. Her eyes welled with tears, but she simply bowed and stepped back.
The ticking clock on the wall marked each second with heavy weight.
Then—
The front door opened with a loud creak, followed by the sharp click of polished shoes.
Hyunwoo's body tensed instantly.
He stood up straight, not out of respect—but out of instinct. Out of fear.
His father entered.
Chairman Jang Dae-hyun, towering in presence, stern and emotionless, his tailored suit crisp as always. His sharp gaze landed on Hyunwoo immediately.
He didn't say a word.
He just walked straight to him.
SLAP.
The sound rang through the marble halls.
Hyunwoo didn't even blink. His cheek stung, but he stared ahead with the same dead gaze.
"You worthless brat," Chairman Jang growled. "What the hell were you thinking? Kicking a kid into the river?! Are you insane?! What do you want to prove?!"
Hyunwoo's jaw clenched.
"I told you countless times to behave. You're a Jang. Not some street thug looking for attention!"
Silence.
The air felt like glass—fragile, ready to shatter with one more word.
Hyunwoo finally looked up at him, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You told me to act perfect. But you never asked if I wanted to be like you."
Chairman Jang's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth."
Hyunwoo smirked bitterly. " Wae? (Why?) It's the only thing I still control."
The Chairman turned away, disgusted. "Clean yourself up. I have a meeting with the mayor tomorrow. I don't want anyone seeing my son looking like a drowned rat."
He walked away without another glance.
The maid, trembling, rushed toward Hyunwoo, dabbing at the blood near his lip.
But Hyunwoo just sat back down, picked up his spoon, and resumed eating like nothing had happened.
Because to him—
It hadn't.
This was normal.
This was family.
---
The next morning
Jiho stirred, eyelids fluttering open to the sound of birds outside the window. For a second, he forgot where he was—until he felt the heavy warmth of Minjae's arm draped around him.
He froze.
They were still on the couch, tangled up like two overcooked noodles. Minjae's face was buried in his shoulder, hair a mess, breathing even and warm against his neck.
Jiho flushed crimson.
He carefully tried to move, but Minjae groaned in protest and pulled him back like a stubborn cat claiming its pillow.
"I gotta pee," Jiho hissed.
"Ani," (No) Minjae grumbled into his collarbone. "Sleep more."
"You're literally using me as a mattress."
"You're comfy."
"Let go or I'll scream."
"Do it. I live alone."
Jiho groaned. "Waeireoni?! (Why are you like this?!)"
Minjae finally let go, laughing as Jiho scrambled to his feet. His hair stuck up in odd directions, and the sleeves of Minjae's hoodie hung over his hands like paws.
"You're so cute in the morning," Minjae said, grinning. "Like a disaster wrapped in fluff."
"I hate you," Jiho muttered, storming off toward the bathroom, not before tripping on the hem of the sweatpants and nearly face-planting into the hallway wall.
Minjae burst out laughing again.
Jiho yelled, "Jojoh!" (SHUT UP!)
Minjae leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head, smile softening. The words he couldn't say last night pressed against his chest like thorns.
Maybe it was fake at first.
But everything about it felt too real now.
---