He’d just gone through something like that earlier—he should’ve been letting his guard down by now.
Though he deliberately kept his hands to himself and kept a watchful eye on the other man, it seemed his wariness still showed. When he awkwardly twitched his brows, a faint smile curved across the man’s face.
At that moment, a sharp sense of déjà vu stirred again. Right. I’ve definitely seen that smile somewhere before.
As he dug through his memory, trying to place it, the man offered him another drink.
“I really didn’t do anything, so you can relax and drink. I’m not that much of a scumbag.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really like alcohol.”
Go Hoon lied without flinching.
It was more than a little ironic—claiming not to like alcohol while sitting in a bar of all places—but the man didn’t seem too concerned with pressing the matter.
“Ah, I see.”
The man gave a slightly amused smile and nodded before shifting the conversation.
“That must’ve been pretty unsettling back there, huh?”
Go Hoon hesitated briefly, then nodded slightly.
“Yeah. It was unsettling.”
It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t shaken.
He’d seen news reports about drug-related assaults targeting women in clubs and bars, but he never imagined something like that would happen to him—never dreamed he’d experience it firsthand.
“Thanks. For helping me.”
“If you want to report it to the police, you should. If you ask the bar, they’ll cooperate. I’m willing to help, too.”
There was something oddly intrigued in the man’s eyes.
His gaze clung to Go Hoon, probing—like he was dissecting him with his eyes.
After mulling it over, Go Hoon finally shook his head.
“I appreciate it, but… I’ll pass.”
Reporting it would mean explaining everything—including the fact that he’d been at a gay bar.
Maybe the perpetrator had banked on that very hesitation when choosing the place.
Go Hoon could guess as much, but it was a hard situation to take a firm stance on.
The man seemed to anticipate his answer. He nodded without another word, then suddenly asked:
“So what brought you there, anyway? Were you trying to figure out your orientation?”
Go Hoon’s chest tightened.
He’d hit the mark. But rather than show it, Go Hoon responded with a question of his own.
“What makes you think that?”
“Because I’ve never seen you around before.”
A soft scoff escaped him before he realized.
Who was this guy, the mayor of the neighborhood? It felt like a bit of a leap.
Before he could say as much, the man beat him to it.
“And when someone walks in like they’ve got something to hide, hat pulled low like they’re guilty of something—they usually fall into one category.”
With a sharp clink, he set his glass down.
“A poor, lost little lamb, still unsure of where they stand.”
“……”
“Happens all the time. One day, someone of the same sex suddenly catches their eye. They deny it, again and again, until finally the curiosity creeps in. Is it just this person? Or would I feel the same about others, too?”
Go Hoon listened quietly.
“And then they show up. And if someone tries to talk to them with good intentions, they look at you like you’re some kind of creep. Maybe they’re just trying to console themselves. I’m not gay. I just like this one special person, that’s all.”
“……”
“But the funny thing is…”
The man’s tone was detached, almost clinical.
“In the end, that’s still being gay. If you like men, you like men. What else would you call it?”
He shrugged, like the matter was indisputable.
Then, in a tone softer than before, he added:
“Granted, in your case, you just had some really bad luck. But that’s how it goes for most people.”
It felt like the man had seen right through him—like his insides had been laid bare.
That invasive familiarity made Go Hoon uncomfortable, but the truth in the man’s words was hard to deny.
“You’ve got a sharp eye, but you’ve also got a real knack for being irritating.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that since I was a kid. Must be in my nature.”
Was he seriously bragging about that?
The retort rose to his throat, but Go Hoon swallowed it.
He didn’t feel like he was in any position to lecture someone about personality—not when he owed him.
“So is that what this little chat was for? To tell me not to hang around those kinds of places unless I’m sure?”
“No. I just said all that because you’re my type.”
Go Hoon was speechless.
That was… not the twist he expected.
“I don’t know what you were thinking when you agreed to come with me, but I didn’t help you because I’m some kind of law-abiding citizen. I had a not-so-pure reason. I saw your face and got curious.”
“…Kind of weird coming from the guy who was just talking about ‘pure intentions.’”
“There are guys like me, too—the ones who act sweet and innocent to get close. I’m telling you this so you’ll be careful. Burn it into your memory.”
Go Hoon stared at the shameless man in silence.
This man was just as unpredictable as Bae Jung-yoon.
It felt a bit ridiculous to be thinking about someone else while sitting across from someone new, but Go Hoon’s thoughts wandered on their own.
Who knew how the man was interpreting his silence? Without pushing, he simply reached for the whiskey bottle and poured it into Go Hoon’s empty glass. The amber liquid streamed smoothly into the transparent glass.
“I’m not into talking in circles, so I’ll just say it plainly.”
After taking a sip, he leaned back into the sofa with ease. His smile was languid, polished. Then, in a low, unhurried voice, he spoke.
“Wanna sleep with me?”
Go Hoon’s expression shifted subtly.
Sex—less than an hour into meeting. Was this just how things worked in this scene?
Then again, it wasn’t just here. These days, a lot of people didn’t seem to treat sex as something deeply meaningful. Even Bae Jung-yoon was like that.
After a brief pause to consider, Go Hoon decided to turn him down politely.
“If you’re looking for a one-night stand, I think you’d be better off asking someone else.”
“I wasn’t talking about a one-night stand.”
Then what were you talking about? Go Hoon gave him a questioning look, but the man only smirked, curling the corner of his lips.
Instead of elaborating, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek business card case. A moment later, he slid a card across the table.
“Well, looks like you won’t budge no matter what I say right now. But if you’re ever curious, or just want someone to talk to—call me.”
[VisionCloud. CEO Woo Gun-hyung.]
Wait—this was the same CEO who made them work weekends? He’d thought that was a bit much, but apparently the “overzealous boss” was the man himself.
Still… the name sounded familiar.
Another wave of déjà vu rippled through him.
Both the name and the company printed on the card—it was all strangely familiar.
He thought hard for a moment, and finally, it clicked.
He’d come across an article during research for a recent class report.
[VisionCloud becomes the first domestic unicorn in the cloud industry.
…
The man who brought VisionCloud into the unicorn club: CEO Woo Gun-hyung.
At 29, he gained massive attention as the youngest unicorn CEO in the world.]
Twenty-nine years old—the youngest CEO of a unicorn startup.
No wonder he looked familiar.
That’s where Go Hoon had seen him—etched into memory through an article he’d barely remembered reading.
Even so, he didn’t feel like acknowledging it now. Saying so out loud wouldn’t exactly make the man thrilled.
Go Hoon rolled the business card lightly between his fingers, then asked something else instead.
“Is it really okay to be handing out personal info so easily?”
After all, their meeting hadn’t been conventional.
He’d shown up at a place that required a degree of openness about sexual orientation—uncertain though he was—and they hadn’t even known each other an hour.
What if he turned out to have bad intentions?
“Well, it’s not exactly a secret. People who need to know already do. So what’s the problem?”
Woo Gun-hyung shrugged like it was nothing, his tone light, unbothered.
His confidence made something stir in Go Hoon.
Not only was he accomplished, but he was cool-headed and self-assured too.
Sure, the abrupt “let’s have sex” line was a bit much, but maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
Go Hoon stared down at the sharply cut business card for a moment, then slipped it into his pocket.
Gun-hyung leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand, and tapped the table with long fingers.
“Isn’t it basic etiquette to exchange cards?”
Go Hoon gave a casual shrug.
“Unfortunately, I’m still a college student. I don’t have one.”
“Then just give me your number instead.”
So this was how he smoothly finessed someone’s number. Go Hoon met his eyes, thought it over, then calmly extended his hand.
“Give me your phone. I’ll put it in.”
He took the offered phone and entered his eleven-digit number.
The man had a title and a public reputation—he wasn’t going to start sending spam messages. And honestly, giving out a number wasn’t a big deal. It might even be smart to build a connection like this.
Still, there was a good chance he’d never actually call. That’s how these things usually went. The whole “Let’s keep in touch” thing was often just a polite formality.
Woo Gun-hyung accepted the phone back and tapped the screen a few times with his thumb.
Go Hoon opened his mouth to speak but stayed quiet, watching instead as the man finished typing. Then, with a soft clack, Gun-hyung set the phone back down on the table.
“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“Oh—what is it?”
Gun-hyung replied as if he’d just remembered—though he’d already saved it to his phone.
