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Choi Mu Jin stumbles away from the fight and into the open arms of Tae Joo's car. The leather seats soften his crash into the vehicle as the door is slammed shut. From the driver's seat, his beloved right hand man informs him (with overflowing hesitance and insistence — his typical mix) that the doctor has been called to the hotel.
One hand slumped against a slash wound, he slurs "what the fuck for?"
"You're injured, Chairman." The man replies, eyes focused on the road before him.
"Just a scratch." Mu Jin spits out, struggling not to wince.
Dongcheon was his pride and he was it's head. He could not fall, could not give the impression that he was falling. Besides, this truly was 'just a scratch' considering his other wounds of the past.
Knowingly, Tae Ju says nothing. As always. The bastard.
From weariness, blood loss, or the alcohol he had earlier, the interior starts to blur, tae ju resembling the car seat and the red lights merging with his blood.
When he wakes, it has been a week.
When he wakes, it is with great difficulty — doubling over his starched sheets and gasping for water like a fucking dog.
"Tae Ju." He croaks out, noticing the man rushing faithfully forward to press his arm against his shoulder, stopping him from keeling over.
"Water." He insists.
Tae Ju shakes his head apologetically. "The doctor says that —"
"Fuck the doctor. People need water to live."
"IV." He simply says.
It takes a while for the anger to simmer and for his vertigo to pass. When it does, he sleeps once more.
It killed Tae Ju to see his boss writhing from the poison that his body was striving to expel. With every spoonful of the porridge he ate, he threw up green bile that was filling the waste bin all to quickly.
Hoping to stall the next bout of vomitting, he steps forward to hand him a list of highlighted customers. They were the special handful who had no ties to any organisations, were not interested in drugs, and were genuine customers. They were all given special attention.
His boss extends a pale hand and the stack is placed onto his open palm.
"How many this month?"
"Hundred twenty four." He answers swiftly, pleased that Mu Jin was no longer groaning and moaning. "Less than before."
His boss hums as he flips carelessly through the list, skimming over each name and face.
"Bus driver?" He mumbles in surprise.
Then, that face. That fucking piece of paper he put purposely at the end in the hopes that Mu Jin never got to it.
Park Se Ra. Absolute stunner, his boss's exact type. Wide eyes and a slim jaw, porcelain skin, dark hair. The innocent looking type of girl, the elegant type. He hated her the moment he saw the little square ID picture.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mu Jin linger on the page, almost incapable of flipping the paper to the back.
"Sir." He interupts.
Bringing his gaze away from the paper, his boss throws him a 'what? ' look. He offers a tight lipped smile in response.
"You should rest."
"No need."
Too quick, Tae Ju can't help but think.He's falling too quickly in love for that wretched woman.
It takes too long before that stack of paper finds its way safely back into his arms. Practically marching out of the suite, he conjures up a gun, her face, and blood.
You truly couldn't have it all.
On his arm hung beautiful Miss Park, in all her radiant glory. With silken hair and a dazzling smile, wearing that dress, he appeared a lucky man. But the fool ...
He sighs, rubbing the space between his eyes.
Noticing, Se Ra guides his face towards hers, softly asking if he's alright. Maybe out of sheer spite, he would marry her. Have kids with her, as dangerous as that would be. He drops his gaze and offers a stiff smile.
"Let's go."
Tensely, he grasps her hand and pulls her into the theatre, all because she wanted ballet. Him? In a ballet theatre? With violins in the background and tutus on a stage. It was laughable.
He should be sparring at this hour, ending a fight with Tae Ju with a drink, sitting on a concrete ground. That was his life, should be his life, not fucking—
"What is this?" He whispers.
"Swan Lake." She chirps.
Swan Lake. He groans inwardly and plasters a smile on his face, thankful for the darkness as a grimace forms when she leans against his arm. Soon, he promises himself. He would break up with her soon.
Besides their extremely differing interests and personalities, she was too soft. She would never last a day as his wife, as one of Dongcheon's core members. Second, he was gay. Third, he was into someone else. He wouldn't call it love, not yet.
The violins blurt out a rising tune that causes the girl to giggle lightly. He clenches his fist.
Yes, he would break up with her soon.
In the car, Tae Ju waited for his boss.
It was hell, pure rat shit. Park Se Ra has been nothing if not gentle and fucking angelic. He tried so futilely (secretly) to dig up the worst dirt on her but she was clean as a whistle dripped in fucking bleach. The worst thing in her life was a search history filled with some porn. Alone, he lets out a string of curses (all silently whispered of course). He was a man in control after all.
Taking a deep breath, he releases the steering wheel. He was in control.
The heart was simply man's fickle organ.
Mu Jin would never stay with Miss Park.
Mu Jin?
He jerks back with a start. He has never referred to his boss by name before. And never will again he vows. Names were risky — names were intimate.
Running a hand over his face, he contemplates: was it so bad being by his side, just as they were now? To enter his suite, his office, be his right hand. Was that not enough?
As he looks up, he sees the couple trot blissfully over. Her hand in his, eyes locked and shining. He grits his teeth.
It must be enough.
When Mu Jin breaks up with Se Ra, it is a simple affair. She asks why, he apologises. She asks again, he says nothing. She thanks him anyway, and leaves quietly.
He should have known — she was simply too nice.
While it might have eased some guilt if she slapped him or called him a bastard, he's glad all is finally over.
He downs his glass of whiskey and gets up to leave, signalling to Tae Ju that it was time to go. From the shadowed seat, a few paces away, his right hand follows after him.
Marvellous Tae Ju, always so loyal. So obedient and tame with him, so cute.
But that was an insane way to think. Jung Tae Ju was his best soldier, friend, follower. His most devoted man. Mu Jin simply hoped that devotion extended past duty and loyalty to Dongcheon.
Before Tae Ju fetched the car, Mu Jin finds his hand lashing out to grab the younger man's wrist.
"Wait," he finds himself blurting out. "Let's go back in. Let's have a drink, Tae Ju ah."
The affectionate way of calling his name did not go unnoticed and Tae Ju's eyes widened, shut, widened. He looked away.
"Of course sir."
Mu Jin already regrets everything. Obviously, Tae Ju doesn't see him in that way. He reconsiders the drink, but they're already walking towards the car. He blinks away the doubt, letting the cold air prick resolve into him. He was not some loser who had couldn't find romance. He was feared and revered, desired and despised. The leader of dongcheon!
He had nothing to worry about.
Yet, how could he not? As much as he hoped the younger man felt the same, he didn't want a case where Tae Ju obliged out of loyalty. If they were to be together, he wanted it to be sincere.
He stops, turns. Sighing, he says "forget the drink".
"Is something wrong?"
No. Yes? No.
Shaking his head, he gestures to the garage. "Let's ride instead."
Jung Tae Ju walks in step with his boss, making a bee line towards the collection of motorcycles against the garage wall. Arranged proudly, gleaming in all their glory stood Harley Davidsons and Ducatis, waiting to be driven.
So that's what ride meant. For a moment, he had been stunned. Then, he cursed his dirty mind.
He was not usually so desperate or infatuated.
He was the boss's right hand man for god's sake. Dongcheon's second in command. He wasn't some love sick high school girl who longed to be asked to prom.
"Fuck." He mumbles.
Grabbing the helmet, he shoves it over his head and straddles the seat. Starting up the bike, he looks over at Mu Jin. He knows better than to ask where they're going, but do so anyway.
"Let's just go." The older man replies. "Maybe we'll get that drink after."
Fine, if that's all he gets to be — a drinking buddy — that's what he'll be.
Unable to leave Mu Jin just yet, Park Se Ra lingers in the hotel lobby. Rich, handsome, protective Choi Mu Jin. She thought they had something special, felt chosen to be his. And now, she had to leave forever.
She couldn't. So she lingered.
Then she got restless, indignant even. How could he dump her like that?Out of the blue, in the middle of the night, what an asshole.
So she decides to confront him.
The receptionists were familiar with her and let her up to his suite. She marched past the bodyguards and into his room but found it to be empty. The bed was neat, shower wasn't running, just her alone as she was.
Her irritation fuelled, she headed to the garage. She knew he was likely to be there considering how he liked midnight drives on his bike. And maybe, a part of her desired to wreck his cars. Maybe key the sides, douse the place in perfume and light it up with the lighter she carried in her purse just for him.
That's when she sees him. Right across from her stands her ex (good fuck, they were exes now) with Tae Ju, as he always was. The two were looking into each other's eyes, both reddening and pretending to occupy themselves with the helmet. From behind an SUV, she observes quietly. Mu Jin promises they'll get a drink later, and Tae Ju can't seem to turn away until he's actually left behind in the dust. As Tae Ju chases after him, it hits her.
Park Se Ra was never the problem. Choi Mu Jin and his inability to accept that he had feelings for his secretary. It made sense now. How Mr Jung was always with them, always over-ready to help, always aware of his needs. How much Mu Jin spoke of him during their dates. She thought they were brothers at first!
Choi Mu Jin was gay and in love, but didn't want to admit it.
Naturally, she decides to help the both of them.
If it fails, it would be her revenge.
If it works, she'd take it as catharsis.
It is three in the morning when Choi Mu Jin is settled in bed, lying on the smooth, cool sheets of a king sized mattress. He turns on his side and unlocks his phone.
An hour ago, Miss Park had texted him. That was his reminder to delete her number.
Fourteen missed calls his voicemail shows.
He deletes those.
Twenty seven new messages
He selects them all and is about to press 'delete' when he notices Tae Ju's name pop up. Frowning, he reads each little text bubble. Throughout the paragraphs ridden with typos, 'Tae Ju' (and variations of it) flooded her messages.
And then, he reads it. Moving quicker than he ever has since the poison, he shuffles off the bed. He had to go, right now.
It is three in the morning when Jung Tae Ju decides that he has had one drink to many. Clutching his spinning head, he trudges over to the edge of the bed and sits himself down.
His home was sparse, filled with one bed, a wardrobe, and a clutter of workout equipment. Right now, he wishes his home was empty.
Let it be bare so that he wouldn't have the urge to rip up the sheets and throw a dumbell through the window. Was he angry? Maybe, and why shouldn't he be.
He never expected Mu Jin to be affectionate but a 'good job' every now and then wouldn't hurt. Praise was a luxury, that much he knew. He just never expected that a lack of recognition would hurt that much.
Would I care less if it wasn't Mu Jin who was my boss?
He laughs and takes another swig of vodka.
He'd rather die than serve anyone else except Mu Jin.
Mu Jin...it was Mu jin now then.
In the middle of another swig, his phone rings. Expecting Mu Jin, he sets the bottle down, groping the bed for his phone. Near the headboard, beneath the pillow, he fishes out the vibrating device and answers the call.
"Yes, chairman?" He greets, trying not to slur his speech.
"I can't find Mu Jin." A woman sobs.
Confused, he moves the phone away from his ear. Wincing at the screen, he makes out the words 'Miss Park'. Groaning, he tells her to hang up.
"What if Mu Jin is hurt?" She continues, cries drowning out his own pleads.
"He's fine, I was with him."
"But I met him just now, just an hour ago. I was supposed to," she sniffles, "he told me he was going to bring down my things but he never did. He always keeps his word, you know that too."
"Miss Park," he struggles to speak, "he's just busy. Why don't you call him tomorrow?"
"You're not listening to me, what if something happened!" She snaps, then resumes crying. "Can't you call him for me?"
Sighing, he rubs the space between his eyes. Miss Park was always his headache. Now that he was actually drunk and the woman was crying, he felt like he was tortured in the very depths of hell.
"I'll call him." He sighs. "And please delete my number."
Worn down by Mu Jin and his inane ex, he drops the bottle and phone and presses his face into the sheets. Sleep, maybe what he needed was sleep. Not love, not booze, just rest.
When Mu Jin arrives at Tae Ju's doorstep, both are disheveled. Mu Jin with his sweatpants and Tae Ju with a bedhead.
"Chairman." Tae Ju swallows, "please, come in."
Mu Jin is more than aware of the stench of alcohol emitting from the younger man but chooses not to question it. Instead, he asks something more important.
"Where is Se Ra?"
"Miss Park?" Tae Ju stutters. "Did you not see her, she told me she wa—"
"Cut the crap." Mu Jin snaps.
Frustrated, he runs a hand through his hair. Confused, and still disoriented from sleep, Tae Ju wills himself not to stare dumbly at the older man.
"Why would you drink with her?" He questions.
"Miss Park?" Tae Ju asks again. "I never drank with her."
"She said you were drunk and you locked her in." Mu Jin brushes past him and peeks into the bedroom. "Is she not here?"
Sobering up, Tae Ju begins to feel something like anger. "Do you still have feelings for her?"
Mu Jin scoffs. "Do you not respect me anymore?"
Incredulous (and frankly, impatient), he snaps "No, I don't."
The change in the untouchable leader's face is drastic and, to Tae Ju, heartbreaking. Ridden with guilt, he starts forward.
"I apologise, I didn't mean it Chairman."
Changing the subject to hide his hurt, Mu Jin asks once more "so se ra isn't here?"
"Do...you only..." Tae Ju shakes his head. "I respect tou less when you talk about her. Don't you think you should find someone else?"
Taken aback that Tae Ju would ever question him like this, he breaks into a small smile.
"Like you?"
Tae Ju blinks. Once, twice, then feels faint.This isn't a confession he tells himself it's punishment.
"Tae Ju." Mu Jin says softly. "Tae Ju ah."
"I was wrong to disrespect you tonight Chairman." He apologises. "I'll—"
"Can I stay here tonight? It's late and this is the least you could do."
"Of course," he replies all too quickly. Then pauses, reflects, and realises that this was unlike Mu Jin.
"Actually," he admits, "i'd like if you'd stay here tomorrow night as well."
Mu Jin, as steady as ever, doesn't show what he's thinking. But Tae Ju feels like he knows him. Mu Jin was happy, surprised. Or was this just his wish imposed?
Dongcheon's leader nods relentingly. "Let's do that then. You should stay over too, whenever you want."
So this was it. This was what it was like to be shown his favour. Tae Ju decided then and there that there was nothing better. Remembering his druken stupor from before, he swears absolute devotion to Mu Jin — in life, to death. For they were closer than ever, and this was enough to fill the earlier chasm in his heart: a space filled by Mu Jin.