# Chapter 11
His voice was slightly exaggerated yet characteristically low, without conveying any strong emotion. Because of this, it was nearly impossible to discern Dohyun’s intentions from his voice alone.
Seowoo narrowed his eyes as he looked at Dohyun. Sure enough, there was that impassive smile perfectly matching his voice. Not a single inner thought could be read… What a difficult bastard.
“…Yes, it’s over. Is there something else that needs to be done?”
“No, nothing like that,” Dohyun replied casually, resting his elbow on his thigh and propping his chin at an angle.
“For someone caught violating a contract clause on the spot, you seem awfully nonchalant. I was curious. People usually consider it risky…”
“…!”
The relaxed atmosphere in the room suddenly tensed up again. Seowoo reflexively widened his eyes.
He had almost forgotten because he’d been too comfortable. If Dohyun hadn’t shown up, Seowoo would have spectacularly violated his contract by now, blabbing about T&C, Seo Dohyun, and whatever else.
Dohyun merely shrugged as if what he’d said was nothing special, then asked kindly again:
“May I say what I wanted to say now?”
It left a bitter taste to agree. It was obvious that the conversation would head in a direction he didn’t want to hear. As Seowoo hesitated, Dohyun smiled broadly.
“Silence means consent? I’ll take that as an okay sign.”
Completely on his own terms. Seowoo was experiencing for the first time what it felt like for intoxication to leave his system in stages. It was a strange feeling. His body felt heavy, but his mind had suddenly cleared as if struck by lightning.
Dohyun crossed his legs. Elegant wrinkles formed on his expensive suit.
“It’s been exactly one day since we stamped and signed our contract, Mr. Han Seowoo. At most, a little over 24 hours have passed.”
“…I know that.”
“You know? Then perhaps you’ve forgotten the contents. Should I give you a copy? I brought one just in case.”
Dohyun rummaged through his inside pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper, folded precisely into four equal parts. It looked pristine.
“Shall I read it to you? Let’s see… ‘If the aforementioned person fails to comply with the terms of this contract and causes damage to the company, they shall follow the company’s disciplinary measures.'”
After finishing in a clear voice, Dohyun smiled and tapped the bottom of the paper with his fingertip. There was the mark of Seowoo’s semi-forced signature.
“But here you are, Mr. Han Seowoo, boldly failing to comply with the contract after just one day, ready to spill everything—both what should and shouldn’t be said—to your friend.”
Dohyun’s voice was so gentle that it almost sounded like he was genuinely concerned about Seowoo.
“As the CEO, I couldn’t just let it slide.”
Seowoo, having received the paper, was overcome with the urge to crumple it but managed to restrain himself after just gripping it once.
At the time, he had been too nervous and had signed it without much thought, but thinking about it now, this clause that stated “shall follow the company’s disciplinary measures” was practically fraud. Wasn’t it just a blatant reflection of Seo Dohyun’s determination to crush him one way or another if he didn’t comply?
He couldn’t take back his signature, nor could he grab a gangster by the collar. Seowoo carefully refolded the paper into four parts and tucked it away.
“Looking at the result, I didn’t tell him anything, so there was no violation.”
“Well, if we’re only looking at the result, that’s true.”
Dohyun uncrossed his legs and leaned his upper body closer. Seowoo’s body instinctively tensed at the sudden proximity.
“I wonder if there would have been a problem had I not been there.”
“…”
“You know that the process is always important in self-reflection, right? I heard you were a good student. If you only look at the results, it’s a repetition of vicious cycles… You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Seowoo swallowed hard, unable to voice the thought lingering inside his mouth—that there wouldn’t be a second time, so reflection wasn’t necessary. The look in Dohyun’s eyes seemed more like a demand than a suggestion.
Strangely, despite there being only two people in the spacious room, Seowoo felt pressured. It was odd—Dohyun wasn’t even raising his voice, just asking questions as if soothing a child, yet the pressure was there.
Dohyun turned completely and faced Seowoo directly. It was head-on. Seowoo blinked slowly.
“Since you seem to understand, shall we summarize our situation? Why did you bring me up to Jung Woojae?”
With a clinking sound, Dohyun took up his glass again. With fluid, skillful movements, he poured liquor into the glass, and with a flick of his hand, about half of the full whiskey glass had disappeared.
It was a sight that made Seowoo’s brow furrow just watching. Not hiding his distorted expression, Seowoo answered slowly:
“I felt…”
“Yes, you felt?”
With his response, Dohyun extended the glass he was holding.
“…?”
Drink it? When Seowoo looked at him questioningly, Dohyun simply smiled and waved his hand again.
What, does he want to share drunken truths or something? If so, he could at least add some ice. Seowoo inwardly cursed as he took the glass and swallowed a sip. Perhaps because his throat was burning with tension, the alcohol went down more smoothly than expected.
Then, the distinctive sensation of his brain burning sharply heated his mind. Placing the glass back on the table, Seowoo sighed.
“I felt like shit.”
“That’s quite succinct.”
Dohyun laughed, but Seowoo couldn’t join in. Silence crawled around like an insect. Unable to bear it, Seowoo took another drink of the strong liquor and cleared his throat while Dohyun waited patiently.
Seowoo had no way of knowing how much time had passed without his phone. When he could no longer endure the silence, he spoke first.
“…That’s all there is to it.”
“The decompression isn’t complete yet.”
“How much detail do I need to confess?”
His sharp response, as if asking what the problem was, seemed quite unjustified. Dohyun shrugged lightly.
“I’m in a position to let it slide, so this level of explanation is adequate. Or would you prefer we go by the rules?”
“You’re threatening me again!”
“Oh my, this is indeed a threat. So let’s keep it friendly, okay? This is for both our benefit, isn’t it?”
He somewhat agreed that it was for mutual benefit, but in a situation where he might not even cave to gentle coaxing over drinks, being openly threatened made his heart shrink and his lips clamp shut even more.
He had spoken as if there would be no consequences, but what if he revealed everything and Dohyun suddenly changed his attitude?
Seeing Seowoo frowning without answering, Dohyun smirked.
“You don’t trust me that much?”
“…I haven’t said anything yet.”
Seowoo stiffened his expression again, pretending to be unfazed by the immediate, piercing response. Dohyun rested his arm on his knee and propped his chin.
“I’m not asking you to trust me; I’m just asking you to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“Hey. At times like this, shouldn’t you at least say, ‘Trust me’? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”
“Come on, can non-existent trust spring from the ground? We’re not in a cult… Why would we write contracts if we could just trust each other like that?”
It was obviously a sophistry, but Seowoo couldn’t think of an immediate retort. Whether it was due to the absurdity or being momentarily speechless, he wasn’t sure.
Not missing that gap, Dohyun hunched forward and brought his face closer.
“All we need to do is fulfill our contract.”
The phrase “according to the contract” was quite convenient. It could gather all the boiling emotions into one pot and dispose of them. There was no need to doubt him, no need to worry about Jinhyuk, no need to analyze each word to determine this man’s true intentions.
The contract in his pocket felt unusually heavy. To erase the burdensome sensation, Seowoo took three slow breaths and finished the remaining alcohol in his glass. Dohyun laughed with an “Oh,” as if finding it interesting.
“…My manager quit this morning. You seemed to know about him, our Jinhyuk.”
After tossing out this statement, Seowoo glanced at Dohyun, but there was no response. Only an ambiguous smile remained on his lips. Swallowing hard, Seowoo’s next words were sharper:
“Honestly… this isn’t some three-year curse. What is this? Witnessing someone die before my eyes, getting involved with gangsters, friends cutting off contact and flying away. Yet I can’t tell anyone. Because of you!”
His sharp eyes stared directly at Dohyun. Dohyun pointed at his own chest with his finger, raising his eyebrows with a truly peaceful and calm expression.
“Me?”
“Yes, CEO Seo Dohyun! Do you know that when my mother calls, I have nothing to say, so I just tell her I’m sick and hang up? Ha, the more I think about it, the more irritated I get. When I think about it, isn’t it all because of you? Fundamentally!”
Once the floodgates opened, his anger poured out like a torrent. It was a perfect harmony of rising intoxication and heightened emotion.
Even while listening to the sharp words shooting out like a machine gun without pause, Dohyun showed no significant reaction. Though he seemed to be listening attentively with his gaze fixed, he gave no proper response. Still in the same position with his legs crossed and chin propped, Dohyun merely tapped under his chin.
As Seowoo gradually caught his breath after fuming, Dohyun finally asked a belated question:
“So, you’re saying you might get sick from anger because I’m not letting you talk to anyone?”
“Not ‘might’—I’m really about to collapse from anger!”
“Wow… It’s the first time I’ve seen a star get this angry, it’s quite refreshing.”
His expression was as leisurely as if watching a neighbor’s house on fire. Since Seowoo hadn’t expected any reasonable response anyway, he leaned his back deeply into the sofa and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. Having yelled at the top of his lungs, he felt the weight on his chest somewhat lifting.
“I felt like I was going crazy, but now I feel a bit better…”
“Han Seowoo.”
“What now?!”
“Let’s make one more contract between us.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
