Kang Hyeon couldn’t say a single word to Lee Ji-gyeong, who was unleashing his fury through the phone. His desperate, almost feral curses stabbed through Kang Hyeon’s ears, the sound so sharp it bled past the receiver. His grip around Yoon Do-yeong’s hand unconsciously tightened, but he didn’t notice. His unfocused eyes drifted aimlessly until Do-yeong reached out and took the phone from his hand.
Lee Ji-gyeong’s voice was still coming through the receiver, shrill and furious. Do-yeong raised it to his lips and spoke in a calm, dry tone.
“Ji-gyeong, don’t curse.”
— Ahhh!!! You son of a bit—
Do-yeong didn’t let him finish. He ended the call, blocked the number, and handed the phone back to Kang Hyeon.
“For now, don’t answer any calls.”
“…Ji-gyeong’s in bad shape right now. He might… do something stupid.”
At the word suicide, Do-yeong’s brows drew together, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes. Kang Hyeon quickly opened the message Ji-gyeong had sent him and stammered in panic.
“I think I have to go—”
“Give me the address.”
With a faint sigh, Do-yeong snatched the phone from his hand, copied the address, and sent it to himself. Then he made a call somewhere.
“I’m about to send you an address. Go there immediately with an ambulance and police escort. Ji-gyeong’s there—he told Hyeon he wanted to kill himself. He’s in an extremely agitated state, so be careful.”
After ending the calm but urgent call, Do-yeong turned to the dazed Kang Hyeon and tried to reassure him.
“Don’t worry too much. I’ll talk to the legal team and make sure you’re affected as little as possible.”
“…Okay.”
Only then did Kang Hyeon exhale in relief and sink into the guardian’s chair. It was then he noticed that Do-yeong was still holding his hand. The grip was tight, almost possessive—like he refused to let go.
“You okay?”
“No.”
Do-yeong gave that blunt reply, then extended his arm to the nurse who came to draw his blood. The amount was considerable—perhaps for several tests—and when she pressed a disinfecting cotton ball against the puncture site, he spoke curtly.
“Could I get a few more cotton pads?”
“What for?”
“Someone grabbed my arm with dirty hands earlier.”
The nurse handed him a few more, and he began scrubbing his arm with almost obsessive precision. Watching the strangely meticulous act, Kang Hyeon frowned, uneasy. He hesitated before asking quietly,
“…Dirty?”
“Filthy.”
“What was?”
“Someone grabbed me in the parking lot out of nowhere. They were waiting for me like a stalker.”
His tone was calm, but the words made Ji-gyeong’s sobbing voice echo in Kang Hyeon’s head.
—I grabbed his arm in the parking lot, begged him to listen, but he just pushed me away. He didn’t even care…
Kang Hyeon’s eyes darkened.
Why was Ji-gyeong filthy?
Not “bad” for what he did—dirty, to the point Do-yeong would feel the need to disinfect his skin. Suddenly, Kang Hyeon understood the disgust in Do-yeong’s words. His fingers curled in on themselves, and he couldn’t look him in the eye.
Sitting silently, Kang Hyeon watched as Do-yeong went through test after test. The nurses pulled the curtains closed—too many people passing by were sneaking glances at the famous man. A little later, before even getting his test results, Yoon Do-yeong was moved to a VIP room.
Kang Hyeon stayed by his side as his guardian until his phone rang—CEO Goo Seong-do.
“Sir, Do-yeong’s been hospitalized. I’m here with him now.”
—“What? Why all of a sudden? Is he hurt?”
“Not exactly. He’s feeling a lot better than before, just resting now. We’ll know more after the tests. I’m sorry, but I should stay until his guardian arrives.”
—“Ah, I see. No helping that then. I’ll tell Writer Oh to lock up before she leaves.”
“I’m sorry.”
—“Don’t be. I hope it’s nothing serious. Keep me posted.”
After hanging up, he checked the time—it was already past three. The nurse brought in a hospital gown, and Kang Hyeon helped Do-yeong change. Unlike last time he’d been hospitalized, this time there was no emotion behind his movements—only mechanical care. After dressing him, he neatly folded Do-yeong’s clothes and placed them in the wardrobe.
“Hyeon, I’m hungry.”
“Uh… okay.”
“I want tteokbokki.”
“…Yeah.”
He shut the wardrobe, turned toward the door, then paused and looked back.
“If you get any updates about Ji-gyeong, call me right away.”
“…Alright.”
Do-yeong gave a delayed answer, his eyes softening slightly. Reading the faint irritation hidden in them, Kang Hyeon pressed his lips together and left the room.
He had barely taken a few steps when a pretty young woman came running up, panting, and stopped in front of the VIP room door.
“Who are you?”
He quickly blocked her path and asked, and she blurted out, breathless,
“I—I’m the woman who was set up with Do-yeong oppa earlier today. I heard he was hospitalized and came right away. The hospital director is my grandfather.”
One word in her hurried explanation hit him like an ice pick.
“A… match?”
“Manager-nim, I really need to speak to Do-yeong oppa. It’ll just take a minute. It’s personal—I have to tell him directly.”
Thinking he was the manager, she pleaded earnestly. Kang Hyeon told her to wait and went back inside.
“Do-yeong, the hospital director’s granddaughter is here to see you.”
“Ah… Let her in.”
He seemed to recall something and nodded. Kang Hyeon left the room, drained. The woman’s eyes lit up as she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.
He stood there for a moment before wandering off.
He didn’t even remember how he got outside the hospital. He just found himself walking the streets, searching for a snack shop. After a long while, he finally found one, bought an assortment of Do-yeong’s favorite foods, and returned to the hospital—only to realize he couldn’t remember the way back to the VIP ward. He had just come from there, yet the path seemed unfamiliar.
He wandered the maze-like hospital, scanning signboards. Though he could’ve just asked at the information desk, his face remained expressionless as he roamed. Eventually, he stepped into an elevator, still searching. A staff member finally stopped him, puzzled by his behavior, and after confirming that Yoon Do-yeong was indeed admitted to the VIP suite, gave him the directions.
Moving sluggishly, Kang Hyeon opened the door to the VIP room. The woman from the matchmaking meeting was gone, and Do-yeong sat there with a displeased expression, on the phone.
Kang Hyeon quietly unpacked the food. Do-yeong’s gaze was sharp throughout the call, fingers tapping irritably on the table. The faint tok, tok of his fingertips stabbed at Kang Hyeon’s chest with every sound.
He waited silently until the long call ended. Then he split the disposable chopsticks and handed them over.
“Ji-gyeong?”
“…”
Do-yeong pressed his lips together, staring at him with clear displeasure. Kang Hyeon reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and unblocked Ji-gyeong’s number. At that exact moment, Do-yeong spoke.
“He’s with his parents now.”
“…”
“You know he’s unstable. You really plan to call him?”
“I did something wrong.”
“What, exactly?”
The edge in Do-yeong’s voice sharpened. Before Kang Hyeon could answer, he fired another question like a dart.
“You mean staying here with me while he said he wanted to die?”
“…I promised to be with him.”
“Then what about me?”
“I broke a promise. I need to apologize.”
“You think he wants to hear from you right now? Leave it. I already told him you’re handling things. Once he calms down, he’ll take your apology then.”
His weary sigh carried not anger but exhaustion. As he dipped a piece of soondae into the tteokbokki sauce, he exhaled another long breath, like holding himself back from saying more. Then, suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I’m in pain. It hurts—a lot. But even while I’m like this, I’m still cleaning up his mess. And you—don’t you worry about me at all? What’s the point of you being here if all you’re thinking about is him? What if my test results come out terrible?”
He emphasized the last part, the same way Ji-gyeong had shaken him earlier with that word suicide.
“This is a hospital.”
“So it’s okay to hurt here?”
“Just enough to complain.”
“…”
“This isn’t something to argue about.”
Kang Hyeon tilted the tteokbokki bowl, pooling the sauce before quietly adding,
“Thanks.”
The sincerity in his voice made Do-yeong’s brow twitch. He bit back his reaction and silently took a bite of food. He could feel how much Hyeon cared about Ji-gyeong, and it twisted something unpleasant in his chest—but he didn’t show it.
Kang Hyeon’s short words had been genuine. He was grateful—to Do-yeong for handling things, for keeping him grounded enough to stay by his side instead of running off to Ji-gyeong. If Do-yeong hadn’t answered the phone, or if Kang Hyeon had gone to him that night, he would’ve left Do-yeong alone again.
Thanks to him, Kang Hyeon hadn’t fallen apart weighing the two. He could rationalize his broken promise to Ji-gyeong as something unavoidable, telling himself he had to choose this way. Even though he’d inevitably hurt him again, he was relieved—thankful—that at least this time, it wasn’t Do-yeong who got hurt.
And also, he was relieved to have learned one more thing— that Yoon Do-yeong had been on a blind date.
