WHAT IS HAPPENING?
For a minute you don't recognize the man standing in front of you. One minute he looks like the only person you know on earth, but the suit replacing the café's half-white apron and the neat taper cut swapping the long, luscious strands of hair makes him look like a strange new man. Your brain struggles to let the new, colossal information sink in.
You shake your head ruefully in disbelief.
His lips quiver trying to constrain the laugh bubbling in his throat. He looks at your face with an unfamiliar boyish smile, his eyes trailing over the surprise plastered all over your features.
"Surprised, huh?" the new Vice President and your old friend ask zealously.
"Ahh...umm... is this some kind of sick prank?" your voice wavers between disbelief and rage.
"Are you making fun of your Vice President Ms. Y/n?" His voice sounds deeper than you remember and resonant. But sarcasm runs through it like an invisible vine.
He leans towards you like a flower towards the sun and stares into your soul with his infamous poker face, the elite cologne pervades your nostrils. "Wake up, Y/n. You're not dreaming, I'm your new boss." His lips stretch in a smile revealing his pearly teeth. How uncharacteristic of him.
"But they said CEO's younger brother will...ohh..." your gaze drifts in his direction emitting a new ray of realization. With his lavish home, branded clothes, and sharp knowledge of other companies' CEOs and CFOs, every piece of the puzzle falls into its place. Not even in math class have you felt this dumb.
"Yup, Bang Hyuk-Shik is my brother. And yes, you were right. I was there that night; he was convincing me to join the company and disclose my identity as his brother. But it gradually elevated to a heated argument, and I barged out pushing him against the floor. My rage veiled my conscience and I failed to see the marble table beside him when I furiously shoved him to the floor and walked out without looking back. I still hate him as a brother, but I swear I didn't intend to cause any harm to him." The regret in his eyes might easily get mistaken for sadness if one doesn't know the real Joe.
"So, you've decided to..." You don't know how to ask the one thing that's boggling your mind, without making it sound offensive.
"Yeah, I've decided to accept his offer, as an apology." He says gravely.
"So, you're the new VP! Woah, congrats!" you lunge forward to embrace him, but then you suddenly remember his real identity and hesitation halts you. In reflex, you extend your hand to shake like one of those usual employees.
Familiar warmth spreads across your palm. You try to retract back after the formal shake, but he tugs your arm and engulfs you in a big hug, with a child's glee.
Timely Maaran enters the room. Something ripples beneath his features.
"I'm the new VP, who will make perfect Espressos whenever you crave one," Joe whispers into your hair and pulls back.
You formally introduce the new vice president of Bighit Labels to the CFO of Amuze Labels and you three decide to take a walk around the building, causing anyone crossing your path a mild arrhythmia.
-
You return to Jungkook's mansion around evening, alone. Jungkook and other members are attending a party hosted by a close friend of Taehyung. Since Sejin is going with the group, you squirm out of the plan stating that you have some plans with Maaran.
The luxury of using Joe's name to escape from parties has ceased to exist today.
Though it's been a while, the grandeur of this mansion still enchants you. You've met Jungkook's elder brother twice and yet to meet his father who is currently staying in Japan, he'll return to Korea once they successfully commence the new branch in Japan. Until then the liberty in the air is all yours.
Walking past the mossy and cool, emerald grass lawn, you bow back at the butler welcoming you at the threshold and glide into the brightly lit hall. Mrs. Jeon is comfortably slumped against the creamy couch, flipping the sturdy pages of an old album in her hand. Her crouched neck hoists up, her eyes greet you with a buoyant smile.
"My sweet baby!" Zeal swamps her. She pats the seat beside her.
"How was your day at work, darling?"
"As always, exhausting!" You say with a tired sigh and she continues to pet your head fondly.
"Yeojin'ah, bring a hot cup of Ginger tea!" she orders one of the maids in plaid uniform.
"Is that an old album?" you ask her curiously.
"Yeah! Our old family album, wanna see?" she asks, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Sure!" you take one half of the album over your lap. Excitement streamed from her eyes, and you watched it trace across her face as she flip the album of precious memories captured in pictures.
"This is Kookie when he was four." She points to an adorable picture of Jungkook.
"Is he sulking?"
"Yeah, we forgot to stock back his favorite banana milk that day and this little rascal was sulking and bawling his eyes out the entire day!" pearls of tear form around her eyes with peals of laughter.
"Really?" your inquisitive eyes drift over the crusty pages of the vintage album, trying to appease your hungry eyes with more cuteness. Wandering through the pictures of their first car, Jung Hyun's first day at school, naked Jungkook beaming at the camera with a Superman cape around his neck, and Mr. Jeon hugging his pregnant wife, your craving eyes halt at a particular picture. A little girl with the most amicable smile. At first, you think it is Mrs. Jeon with all those traces of resemblance in the features. But something about that little girl seems alienated from Mrs. Jeon.
Her eyes.
Her eyes looked exactly like Jungkook's.
Huge doe eyes.
"If you don't mind, who is she?" the maid hands over the hot ginger tea to you.
Her hand meanders aimlessly over that picture, her eyes slowly evolving into a pathetic pool of misery. Alright, you've touched a raw nerve and guilt starts to eat you.
"She is Jeon Jong Seo, uli ttal" There is something in her voice, grief. You could sense the faint trembling in her body.
"Your daughter? You had a daughter?!" You ask half-frozen, eyes still fixated on the picture.
"Yes, my precious daughter." Her voice breaks into a strained noise.
"Where is she? Why I've never heard of her?" You hesitantly enquire more, but a part of you already regrets shooting these questions at her. You braced yourself for an emotional tornado.
"She is sleeping, peacefully. In our garden, beneath the rose bed."
Your mind feels dizzy.
"Jong Seo was a sweet little girl. She was the embodiment of love. A perfect elder sister for Jung Hyun and Jung Kook. A loving daughter for us. Her soul was too pure in this horrendous world, she was plucked out of our beautiful family at the tender age of 12." A muffled wail comes out of her throat, tearing its way out.
"I'm so sorry! What happened to her?" you could feel your own eyes tearing up.
"She was a healthy, happy child. It was fate's sick, sick game. Jungkook is still not out of that trauma, he is still processing the loss, and he still yells her name in the middle of the night. My babies!" The sound she's making is hardly human.
"It was a car crash," her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, and her expression denotes that she is traveling back in time to that vile day when she lost her baby, "and Jungkook was supposed to be in that car."
Terror takes over your body, you shudder at the mere thought.
"It was our old business rivals; they saw both our sons as a great threat as heirs. They wanted to destroy our sanity and our happiness. The biggest asset we ever had, was our family. And the youngest, guileless Jungkook became their easy target. It was his first day at school, he was supposed to go accompany his big sister Jong Seo. But he was down with flu and only Jong Seo left home that day." Words choke her throat.
"The crash that was planned to kill Jung Kook, killed Jong Seo and left us nothing but her crumbled body. Since then, she has been sleeping in peace in our garden, but Jung Kook is still haunted by the ghost of the past. And that's why you can't see any of her pictures in here, anything that reminds her, has been erased without a trace. And that's also the reason why we don't have any tomb for her. We want the child that's alive to be at peace too, to be guilt-free." she weeps over your lap.
And that explains why he is dead scared of letting you out of this house.
-
The midnight darkness seeped into your room. You kick your numb legs and get on your feet to get some air. It feels too suffocating in the dark room, without sleep and with all that new information. You head out to the balcony and let the strained eyes wander through the blanket of stars that stretch to infinity. Your feet move across the tiled floor involuntarily, as a window to release all the stress accumulated inside you.
Thinking about all the times he panicked at the thought of you getting hurt now makes sense. Since day one, he has been warning you about getting hurt because of him, be it on the ball night, or the other day, he always asked you to step out of his life to stay safe. All those times you thought it was because of his reputation as an idol and sometimes it was those stalkers. But, the main reason behind his unfeigned fright has always stayed in the dark, until today. You try to justify all his weird actions with the reason you've learned today, even the sharpest words he threw at you in the past seem blunt with concerns now. Something rises inside you faintly, hope and terror.
The squeaky cry of the mansion gate breaks the tranquility of midnight. Drunk Jungkook walks in sloppily with the help of the security guard. His sturdy legs are replaced by a pair of wobbly noodles. Throwing the robe over your nightgown, you barge down to the door before the doorbell blares. You timely open the door only to welcome the alcohol-reeking Jungkook.
The security guard carefully shifts the drunk lad towards you and leaves the spot with a slight bow and sleepy eyes, relief surges through his face. You've known he's a muscle man, but the dead weight of him supported by your shoulder proves his unconditional love for the gym.
"Where are you taking me?" he slurs, jabbing a finger into your chest. If he were sober enough, he would've been embarrassed to death.
"Shhh, finger on your lips!" You whisper a command, and surprisingly he listens to you well.
Accumulating all your might, you drag him up the stairs.
As you enter his room he stumbles forward and crashes over the couch. He erects himself on the couch and sits there idly with a finger over his lips. His head drops droopily, and his heavy eyelids slowly cascade down. He continues to sleep in the sitting position. A giggle threatened to escape your throat.
You walk on your toes like a cat and crouch beside him. The peace flaring across his face looks addictive, you can sit there, appreciating it all night.
Your hands stretch forward and quietly untie the black bow tie choking his throat. Your fingers delicately fiddle with the bow and slowly release the satin knot. It now hangs down his neck in the form of a ribbon. You carefully pull one side of the ribbon and when the other end slithers off his neck you look up at his face in accomplishment, only to get startled by his wide-opened eyes. He has been watching you in silence. It might be your imagination, but his sharp eye seems to be accusing you.
"Hey, I was not trying to strip you or anything, I just wanted to remove this tie. I swear!" You yell at his expressionless face. You could perceive no change in his features, no signs of him buying your story. Face burning with embarrassment, you jump to your feet. "Alright, I was only trying to stop you from choking to death, and the job is done. Now you can go to sleep, I'll see myself out. Goodnight, Mr. Jeon."
Your heels swivel swiftly, and the shiny floor beneath makes a squeaky noise. As you proceed to walk towards the door, his hand clasps your hand firmly. He draws you towards him, not roughly but sternly and you awkwardly flop on one of his wide laps. Positioning you between his slender legs in a way he can see you, he fills his arms with you. His hands snake around your torso and he lays his head on your chest, hugging you like a Koala.
Your arms aimlessly wander over his head without knowing where's the right place to land and rest. The hope ignited in you by all the newly bloomed doubts drives you to insanity. Your hand hesitantly twists around his neck and your fingers sails between the silky locks of his hair, the other hand cradles his face resting on your chest. Your bodies cup each other like hands. His hot breath fanning against your bare skin is a shock and you shiver under the intimacy.
For a moment, the real world with oxygen and hydrogen melts into thin air. Held in the sweet circle of his arms, you nestle closer, your lips touching his hair, soft and smelling of coconut.
He says something against your chest and the vibration penetrates your skin and reaches the spine. Words tumbling out of his mouth are barely distinguishable syllables and you strive hard to listen to his meek voice suppressed by your loud heartbeat.
"Stay, stay with me. I have to...I need to talk..." His voice sounds tensed, every word rushing out in haste. His hands grow even more rigid around you.
"to you"
His head lifts, his eyes brimming with passion stares into your soul, the shadow of past trauma circles the hollow of his eyes.