It wasn't my first time at Michael's house, and perhaps that's why the place no longer stirred that initial curiosity within me. It had become a familiar space… strangely quiet, despite all its inexplicable details. Yet, one thing remained a constant presence on every visit: Do-hyun's absence.
I hadn't seen him even once.
His name occasionally came up in casual conversations, like a ghost haunting the house without ever appearing. At first, I didn't pay much attention, but as time passed, curiosity slowly crept in. Every time I sat with Michael, I found myself asking about him in one way or another.
"Where's Do-hyun?" I asked once, watching the coffee cup in my hands.
Michael didn't look up from his phone. He simply said calmly, "At work."
"Always?" I raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.
He smiled slightly, as if he were used to the question.
"He's a workaholic."
"And what exactly does he do?"
He paused for a moment, then looked up at me and said in a very casual tone,
"CEO."
I blinked slowly, trying to process the sentence. CEO? For some reason, my mind immediately conjured up an image: a smart, stern, taciturn man with a sharp gaze and an imposing presence. Someone obsessively organized, who wouldn't make a move without careful calculation.
I nodded as if to agree with the image I'd constructed.
"I see… he seems like a serious person."
Michael didn't comment, just gave that enigmatic smile I'd begun to notice more often.
But all those preconceptions… crumbled the moment I met Do-hyun for the first time.
It was an ordinary evening, or so I thought.
As we entered the house, there was a faint noise coming from inside, something between the clatter of dishes and a half-hearted laugh. I looked at Michael, puzzled.
I followed him cautiously, until I stopped abruptly at the kitchen doorway.
There… stood Do-hyun.
But not as I had imagined.
His hair was disheveled, as if he'd just woken up. His shirt was wrinkled, and his sleeves were rolled up haphazardly. He held a wooden spoon in one hand and, with the other, tried to catch a pot lid that was about to fall off. The floor around him wasn't disastrous, but it certainly didn't look like the environment of a CEO.
He turned toward us suddenly, as if sensing our presence, and then smiled very broadly.
"Finally! You're here!"
I froze for a moment, trying to connect this person to the image in my mind… but the connection just wouldn't exist.
"This is Do-hyun," Michael whispered quietly beside me.
I slowly raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
Do-hyun strode toward us, almost slipping but catching himself at the last second.
"You… you're the one I heard about!" he said excitedly, then extended his hand in a completely informal way.
I shook it, still trying to process what was happening.
"And you… a CEO?"
He laughed loudly, as if the question were a joke.
"Unfortunately, yes."
I exchanged a quick glance with Michael, who seemed to be enjoying the situation more than he should.
"Come in," Do-hyun said, gesturing inside. "The food's almost ready… or at least the part I didn't burn."
"Did I burn anything?" I asked anxiously.
"Don't worry, just a little attempt to turn the kitchen into a war zone."
He laughed again, then hurried back to the pot as if he'd just remembered something important.
I sat with Michael in the dining room, still feeling like I was in a strange dream. This guy… didn't resemble any logical image of a man in his position.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying the plates with exaggerated caution, as if he were afraid they might fall at any moment.
"Here you go, I made all of this myself."
I looked at the plates in front of me hesitantly, then at Michael.
"Is this safe?"
"Better than it looks," he replied calmly.
I sighed, then took a small bite… and paused.
It was… delicious.
I slowly raised my head, looking at Do-hyun with genuine surprise.
"This is… very good."
He smiled with obvious pride.
"Of course, don't judge a book by its cover."
"Or a CEO by his looks," I added, smiling.
"Exactly!" he said, finally sitting down, as if he had completed a complex task.
The conversation began to flow unexpectedly smoothly. There was no affectation, not the formality I had anticipated. He spoke spontaneously, laughed easily, and occasionally interrupted himself because he had forgotten what he was saying.
At one point, he said to me,
"Michael told me you work at the hospital. How do you manage?"
I looked at him for a moment before answering.
"Sometimes I can't… but I keep going."
He nodded slowly, this time without laughing.
"It's much harder than I do."
Michael intervened calmly:
"Don't belittle your work."
Do-hyun shrugged.
"I just sign papers and sometimes yell at people."
I laughed involuntarily.
"You don't seem to be very good at yelling."
"Because you haven't seen it yet."
"And I don't want to," I said quickly.
He smiled, then went back to eating as if the conversation was over.
As time passed, I began to understand why Michael had said he was "a workaholic," but I also began to understand something else… this strange contradiction in his personality, between chaos and simplicity, and the responsibility he carried.
He wasn't as poised as I had imagined, nor as perfectly polished… but he was comfortingly genuine.
And unexpectedly… that's what made him so likable.