Chapter 103
The thick, lacquered scent of premium cedar and imported mahogany seemed to cling to Haru's skin long after he left the secluded Hanok pavilion in Seongbuk-dong. When he finally returned to his apartment that night, slipping past the entryway with silent, practiced steps, his mind was a chaotic landscape of endless, unanswerable questions.
He lay awake in the dark, staring up at the shadows stretching across his bedroom ceiling. Director Park's parting words vibrated in his mind like a low, persistent frequency. Save yourself before you fall any further. Why would a woman whose entire existence was defined by pragmatism and ruthless asset insulation leave him with a warning that sounded less like a threat and more like a dark, protective premonition? If she had wanted to crush him, she had the resources to do so with the stroke of a pen.
Instead, she had offered him an elite courtesy and a cryptic piece of advice.
The weight of it didn't dissipate. It settled deep into his bones, remaining a heavy, troubling fixture in his mind for days afterward.
In the week that followed, the psychological strain began to bleed into his interactions with Jae-wook. Whenever they found themselves sharing a quiet moment in the penthouse or sitting together in the dim interior of a vehicle, Haru would find himself staring at Raiven absentmindedly. He would trace the sharp, perfect lines of his profile, studying the striking contrast of his long, white-dyed hair, searching for the invisible strings of the elite machinery that had engineered him.
Inevitably, Raiven would catch him. His dark eyebrows would crease in deep, immediate worry, his intense gaze tracking the sudden, analytical shadow in Haru's eyes. "Haru? What's wrong?" he would ask, his voice thick with an instinctive urge to protect.
But Haru would always look away instantly, smoothing his expression into a practiced, neutral mask. "It's nothing, Jae-wook, Just thinking about a script," he would lie, offering a soft, reassuring smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Fortunately, the brutal momentum of the entertainment industry provided a timely distraction. The grueling preparation for Haru's upcoming fan meeting had him completely preoccupied, demanding long hour days of choreography reviews, stage positioning, and blocking rehearsals. He didn't have to look at Raiven as much or spend significant pockets of time under that piercing, observant gaze.
The logistical separation deepened when Raiven had to fly out of the country to shoot the blockbuster music video for his highly anticipated album. The shoot was scheduled to take a full two weeks across multiple locations.
As Haru watched the luxury car pull away, a strange, complicated mixture of loneliness and relief washed over his chest. Two weeks. It was a generous window of time. Haru hoped that by the time Raiven returned, he would have gathered himself completely, buried Director Park's chilling words into the furthest, darkest corners of his mind, and successfully wrapped up his fan meeting.
Once the chaos subsided, they were scheduled to meet in Jeju Island for a short, highly classified vacation. He needed to be whole by then. He couldn't bring the remnants of Seongbuk-dong to Jeju.
Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Se-hee remained blissfully ignorant of the high-stakes chess match unfolding in the background. The morning after the meeting, she had woken up to find the beautifully crafted wooden box on the kitchen island. Upon discovering the two bottles of incredibly rare, astronomically expensive vintage wine, her eyes had nearly popped out of her head.
Since then, she had been drinking it religiously, treating every glass like holy water. "Haru-ya!" she would exclaim practically every evening, swirling the dark crimson liquid in a cheap plastic cup with absolute ecstasy. "Whoever this 'industry executive' is, tell them I am fully available to bless their next project if it means more of this! This tastes like old money!" Haru could only shake his head, a wry, bitter smile touching his lips as he watched his best friend find pure happiness in the wine.
The internal distraction, however, didn't escape Alice's sharp, predatory instincts.
During a brief ten-minute break in the middle of a rigorous blocking rehearsal, she caught Haru standing near the water cooler, his eyes fixed blankly on the hardwood floor, his bottle of water held loosely in his white-knuckled grip.
"Is everything okay?" Alice asked, stepping into his perimeter, her tablet clutched against her chest as her sharp eyes scanned his face for signs of illness or fatigue.
Haru blinked, the sterile lights of the rehearsal studio snapping back into focus. He quickly relaxed his shoulders, forcing a casual huff from his lips. "Yeah. Just a bit tired, Noona."
Alice dismissed it instantly, rolling her eyes with a theatrical sigh. "Please. You have that exact look my brother gets when his girlfriend goes on a business trip. You just miss Raiven, don't you? It's been five days and you're already misss him."
Haru didn't offer any believable explanation to correct her. It was easier to let her believe he was simply pining after a lover than to explain that he was standing on a fault line.
The breakthrough came on a crisp, quiet Thursday night. The clock had just crawled past 9:00 PM, and Haru had finally finished his final vocal run-through. As he walked out of the private compound of the rehearsal facility, he was surprised to see Hae-rin standing near the gated garden pavilion, holding two cups of steaming coffee.
"Surprise," she said, a warm, genuine smile breaking across her features as she lifted the cups. "I was in the area for a brand meeting and realized you were probably still around. I missed you."
Over the past few months, the dynamic between them had evolved beautifully. What had started as a cautious alignment of acquaintances had mutated into a deep, unshakeable friendship. The group chat they had formed between the four of them,Haru, Raiven, Hae-rin, and Se-hee, was constantly buzzing with ridiculous memes, late-night food delivery debates, and inside jokes. Hae-rin and Se-hee had become particularly close, often meeting up for shopping trips or venting about their respective managers.
As Sunghoon walked beside her, he felt a profound, quiet sense of gratitude. In his past life, relationships were purely transactional, built on leverage and corporate utility. But here, looking at Hae-rin, he knew that the closest friends around them genuinely got along. He believed with absolute certainty that in case of an absolute disaster, Hae-rin would take pristine care of them, and he would do exactly the same for her.
They walked down the private stone path of the garden in a comfortable, healing silence. Above them, the stars shimmered through the thin haze of the Seoul sky, a rare, beautiful display.
"So," Hae-rin began, taking a slow sip of her coffee before looking at him sideways. "How have you really been, Haru? there's a weight in your posture tonight."
"I'm fine," Haru said automatically, before a soft, teasing smile broke through his exhaustion. He tilted his head, looking at her knowingly. "Did Jae-wook tell you to come by?"
Hae-rin instantly went on the defensive, her cheeks flushing slightly as she looked away. "What? No! Why would you think—" She caught the cynical, knowing glint in his eyes and let out a defeated, breathless laugh. "Fine. Yes. He called me from his hotel room in London at three in the morning his time. He said you sounded 'too quiet' during your daily phone call and begged me to check up on you because he was losing his mind."
Haru let out a long, heavy sigh, the warmth of Jae-wook's devotion wrapping around his chest like a double-edged sword. He stopped walking, leaning his forearms against the cold iron railing overlooking the manicured bushes of the garden.
"Hae-rin," Haru spoke softly, his voice dropping into a register that made her ears perk up instantly. "There's... something I am keeping from him."
Hae-rin stopped beside him, her professional persona vanishing, replaced by the fierce, focused attention of a loyal friend. She didn't interrupt. She simply watched him, giving him the necessary time and space to fill in the blanks himself without any forced input.
"I don't know how to broach the subject," Haru murmured, his fingers tracing the rim of his paper cup. "I don't know if he will be furious, or if it will completely fracture something between us."
"From what I have seen over the last few months," Hae-rin teased gently, trying to lighten the suffocating pressure in the air, "it is physically and biologically impossible for that man to be mad at you. You could set his studio on fire and he'd probably ask if the smoke hurt your throat."
Haru blushed slightly at her words, the tips of his ears turning pink before he cleared his throat, his expression turning deadly serious. "I met with his mother."
Hae-rin looked at him, but to Haru's surprise, there wasn't a single trace of shock on her face. Her features remained flat, a subtle, cold hint of disdain flashing through her eyes before her expression shifted into deep, immediate concern.
"I wondered when she would do that," Hae-rin said, her voice dropping into a sharp, clinical tone. She stepped closer, her eyes scanning his face. "Did she threaten you?"
"No," Haru replied quickly. "It wasn't like that. But... she told me something that has been completely eating away at me. I can't shake it." He looked at her directly, hoping against hope that Hae-rin would provide an answer.
"Yah, she tends to do that," Hae-rin stated dismissively, waving her hand as she took another sip of her coffee, trying to soothe his anxiety. "She's a robot, Haru. She speaks in psychological puzzles just to destabilize people. Don't pay attention to her."
"You're probably right," Haru murmured, turning back to look at the dark garden, but his face remained distorted with a quiet, persistent anxiety.
Hae-rin saw the expression on his face and immediately bit her lower lip, internally chastising herself for being too dismissive of his feelings. She set her coffee down on the railing, turning her body to face him sincerely. "What exactly did she say to you, Haru?"
Deep down, Hae-rin was genuinely puzzled. Mrs. Park hadn't threatened him? That didn't align with her historical playbook. In the past, Director Park was always terrifyingly straightforward about chasing away every single lover Jae-wook came into contact with. Years ago, when she first discovered that her engineered idol of a son also slept with men, she had thrown the entire weight of her wealth legal and financial matrix behind her actions. She had threatened them, blacklisted them, or offered life-altering bribes. A lot of them had taken the money and run.
For a long time, Mrs. Park had stubbornly convinced herself that Jae-wook's sexuality was simply a chaotic, rebellious phase. When he briefly entered a relationship with a high-profile female idol later on, the Director had been profoundly relieved, but that relief had been short-lived when the relationship fell apart under the weight of Jae-wook's complete indifference. Soon after, it looked as though she had simply given up, throwing her hands in the air and letting him manage his private life however he pleased.
Hae-rin had assumed that was what was happening with Haru. She figured the Director noticed that Jae-wook didn't attend wild industry parties anymore, hardly drank alcohol, and lived a disciplined, domestic life, choosing to pick her battles to maintain a semblance of peace, even if it meant her son was in a committed relationship with a man.
But this cryptic approach didn't fit.
"She told me," Haru whispered, his voice shaking slightly against the crisp night air, "to leave him before I fall any deeper."
The moment the syllables left his mouth, Haru felt the atmospheric shift instantly. Hae-rin's entire body went completely rigid. The color seemed to drain from her sharp cheekbones in a single, terrifying second. She looked away immediately, her eyes wide as she stared blankly at the brick wall of the facility, her knuckles turning white around her paper cup.
Haru's past-life instincts flared to life. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto her profile. "Hae-rin-ah? Do you know what she meant?"
Hae-rin took another frantic sip of her drink, refusing to look him in the eye. The silence between them turned heavy, cold, and suffocating.
"Hae-rin!" Haru called out, his voice laced with a deep, mounting concern at the sudden, drastic change in her demeanor. He reached out, his hand hovering over her sleeve. "Is there something I should know?"
Hae-rin closed her eyes, letting out a shaky, fractured breath. When she looked back at him, her eyes were swimming with a profound, tragic affection that broke Haru's heart.
"Haru-ya," she whispered, her voice cracking as she placed a hand over his. "I love you. You are one of the best things that has ever happened to Jae-wook, and you are a true friend to me. But... there are some things that are not my place to say. If the truth is ever going to be uncovered, they have to come from Jae-wook's own mouth. Not mine."
Haru stood entirely taken aback by her words. The cold air seemed to freeze in his lungs. So there was something. A massive, hidden variable. Something crucial enough to make an independent, fearless woman like Hae-rin hesitated.
But looking at the genuine distress and conflict painting her features, Sunghoon's deep sense of respect won over his burning curiosity. He didn't want to make his friend uncomfortable. He didn't want to force her to betray a confidence.
"Okay," Haru murmured softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I won't ask further. Thank you for the coffee, Hae-rin-ah."
The ride back to his neighborhood was consumed by an uncomfortable, ringing silence. Hae-rin dropped him off outside the residential complex, exchanging a quiet, subdued farewell before her luxury van melted into the midnight traffic.
Haru walked down the narrow alleyway toward his building, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. Just as his fingers closed around the cold iron handle of the gate, a sudden, rhythmic vibration rattled against his thigh.
He pulled out his phone, the bright screen illuminating the dark street. An unknown string of numbers was flashing across the glass.
Haru's heart skipped a beat. He thought it was Raiven using an international number from London, or perhaps Director Park returning to deliver a second clause. He swiped open the line, lifting the receiver to his ear.
"Hello?" Haru said, his voice echoing softly against the concrete walls.
There was no response. Only the heavy, distinct sound of static, followed by a faint, ragged breath on the other end of the line. Before Haru could demand an identity, the call abruptly cut, the screen reverting back to his lock background.
He lowered the device, his brows furrowing in deep, analytical question. Was it a stray fan? A reporter who had traced his personal line?
But before his mind could construct a logical sequence, the phone lit up once again, vibrating violently in his palm. This time, the caller ID was clear, bold, and entirely familiar.
Jae-wook.