#132
Eunhong recalled Jaeha reading the apology statement in the bedroom the night before.
Peeking over his shoulder, he had turned away after seeing the opening paragraph that began with an apology for failing to meet expectations and causing disappointment.
Though the statement had been drafted by Jaeha together with someone from the crisis management team or PR department, Eunhong found its content completely unacceptable. Jaeha’s expression while reading it was so calm, which made Eunhong even more upset and frustrated.
‘I’m so angry.’
‘What are you angry about? This is just another thing we’ll get through.’
‘But it’s not true.’
‘We’ll clearly point out what isn’t true. But regarding the succession issues, there were predictable stories, so we’ll acknowledge and apologize for those.’
‘But that…’
He couldn’t say it wasn’t Jaeha’s fault. If they were to argue that the person who had been greedy about succession should apologize, then it would be Grandfather who would have to bow his head. That wouldn’t be right either, considering Eunhong was the starting point of the incident.
Lying on his stomach, Eunhong rolled halfway to his side. Staring at the ceiling, he hesitantly voiced what he’d been thinking.
‘Mismanaging the files was my fault anyway… and since Shim AD said he would compile our company’s work materials for a presentation, I can just wait for that.’
‘And?’
‘Can’t Han Jung just announce they’re canceling the competition award for an artist involved in controversy? They can just say they didn’t know. Everyone cuts ties like that.’
‘Cut what?’
Jaeha raised one eyebrow sharply. When he made that expression, he looked remarkably similar to Jaeseong—it was an expression that appeared when he was extremely displeased.
‘Would you like to check if I have a tail to cut or not?’
‘What? Why is the conversation suddenly going in that direction?’
Jaeha threw the tablet he’d been looking at under the bed and abruptly removed his top. He climbed on top of Eunhong in one swift motion, his eyes gleaming with a darkened gaze. Whether due to the bedroom lighting or his raised eyebrows, he looked particularly ominous.
And then Eunhong had been tormented all night long.
Eunhong put down the cushion he’d been playing with and slightly lifted his t-shirt to fan himself. His nipples, swollen from being sucked so much the night before, made his lower abdomen tighten with a stinging sensation whenever the fabric brushed against them.
“Are we having dinner when CEO Lee arrives?” Mrs. Ham asked as she placed a round glass bowl full of popcorn on the coffee table.
“No, Mrs. Ham… popcorn is a bit…”
“What? CEO Lee ordered me to make it before he left. He specifically insisted I pop some for student Hong.”
Telling him to eat popcorn while watching—it was so typically Jaeha. Eunhong eyed the white-fluffed corn kernels and reluctantly reached for them. As the savory, soft flesh melted on his tongue, he felt himself becoming a little more generous. The screen was now showing the main conference room.
Secretary Kim was the first to appear through the door at the platform side. With a composed expression, he walked to the podium and gave a brief introduction to the gathered reporters. He explained the order of the apology statement and position announcement, the distribution of press materials, and requested that unrelated questions be refrained from. After Secretary Kim disappeared from the frame, the screen went quiet for a moment. Eunhong focused intently on the screen.
As the closed door opened again and Jaeha entered the conference room, flashes began to burst simultaneously. The screen became dizzy with the flickering. After a brief commotion, the camera focused on Jaeha standing at the podium, taking out and unfolding a paper.
Looking around the audience with a calm expression, Jaeha slightly bowed his head with the customary greeting. What followed was content Eunhong was already familiar with. He recited lengthy courtesies and reflections on Han Jung’s unfair practices related to succession without hesitation.
At the end of the long apology, he stepped to the side of the podium and bent his waist at a 90-degree angle. Watching this, Eunhong rubbed his increasingly tense jaw. He had been clenching it so hard that his molars ached.
Another shower of flashes passed over Jaeha as he deeply bowed. Raising his head, he looked around the audience once before returning to the podium. As he was about to speak, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, whether intentional or not. At that moment, flashes erupted again, and the broadcast camera zoomed in on Lee Jaeha’s face.
“My goodness, CEO Lee is frighteningly handsome. Did he get makeup done? He doesn’t look human.”
Mrs. Ham’s muttering beside him made Eunhong’s tension dissolve. He shouldn’t be smiling at an occasion like this, why… The secretarial staff must have been flustered by the same feeling as Eunhong.
Perhaps the cameraman felt the same way? He seemed to be focusing unusually closely on his face. Comments began to flood wildly on the YouTube window of the tablet, which was muted.
“Now, regarding Han Jung’s competition and the incident that triggered this interview today, I will answer your questions.”
His brow slightly furrowed as he looked down at the paper in his hand, turning the page. When he raised his head again, he was clearly smiling. The way he raised the corners of his mouth and brought his lips to the microphone while smiling somehow reminded Eunhong of when he kissed him. Though he was clearly looking at the camera, it felt as if he was looking at Eunhong. For a moment, feeling as if their eyes had met, Eunhong unconsciously blushed.
“Yes, the competition participant involved in the favoritism allegations is indeed my lover.”
The reporters filling the conference room all stood up at once, creating a commotion. As questions poured in, Jaeha waited with a relaxed expression for the atmosphere to settle. Even Eunhong, watching from home, was shocked and gaped—how much more so for the reporters? Mrs. Ham’s gaze on him from the side was also uncomfortable, but that wasn’t important. Eunhong picked up the remote and turned up the TV volume.
“He is my only friend, and as many media outlets have speculated, we grew up together in the same house since childhood, like brothers.”
Jaeha paused to catch his breath while scanning the faces of the people.
“However, the claim that we intentionally raised him knowing his traits beforehand is completely unfounded, and the secretarial staff will distribute materials proving that he only manifested as an omega after becoming an adult.”
At Jaeha’s gesture, the secretarial staff, as if they had been waiting, distributed prepared materials throughout the conference room. Jaeha then explained the source and direction of the investment funds that went into Handae Hospital. He responded flexibly to the occasional pointed questions. Then, the next moment, he looked straight ahead with a serious expression.
“Regarding the competition work, all rumors of favoritism are untrue. As everyone knows, Han Jung’s competition guidelines ensure complete anonymity from submission, and more than half of the judges for the works were external panel members. All of this is included in the evidence materials.”
Stating that all internal information would be transparently disclosed, even the website address where the PDF files of the relevant materials could be downloaded was shared through the screen. Jaeha continued speaking with an expression that suggested he had nothing to hide.
“Information and evidence about the person who illegally posted numerous false posts by stealing the artist’s work files over a long period of time and maliciously amplified plagiarism suspicions have also been handed over to the police, and we urge strict law enforcement.”
Jaeha then took a breath and, looking into each camera as if warning, uttered his next words.
“From this moment on, Han Jung’s legal team will treat any false reports, exaggerated interpretations, reproduction and distribution of incorrect information about my partner at the level of corporate defamation, regardless of the nationality of the posting platform, and will pursue them.”
As the stirring breath of the people subsided, he completed his final sentence, pronouncing each word clearly with emphasis.
“We will sue with the best means to the best of our ability, and I inform you in advance that there will be no leniency and no settlements.”
“…Did you say ‘partner’?”
Someone’s question suddenly broke through the noise and was caught by the microphone.
The reporters who had been sporadically throwing questions also suddenly became quiet. The interview had already changed in atmosphere and purpose. Jaeha, who had perplexed those gathered to write social and political articles, smiled and made his final comment.
“I hope you won’t step on the path of a talented artist with unjust slander. He is someone who has steadily proven himself in his field for a long time, and is a talented individual whom Chairman Lee Shinje of Han Jung has been eyeing to lead the Cultural Foundation.”
And…
“Yes, he is the person I am going to marry.”
***
They say that proposing in a crowded public place is the worst kind of proposal.
Some say proposing in a theater is bad, while others dislike surprise proposals on theater stages or musical stages. It’s also torturous to bear with something while clearly knowing it’s about to happen, and the moment of being proposed to feels like public execution by the crowd gathered there.
In any case, the common point was that announcing one’s romance and marriage to a multitude of strangers was disagreeable. Yoo Junseok said he almost broke up after kneeling in front of a fountain at an amusement park.
Jaeha had gone out to make a national apology, and standing there neatly dressed with a composed face, he dropped such a bombshell statement and then returned home to calmly eat dinner. With the same face as if nothing special had happened on a weekday evening.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
