“Isn’t that one of our gallery’s staff?”
At Choi Munhyuk’s words, Seojin hurriedly checked over what Shin Seyoung was wearing. He’d said he was filling in for someone, and sure enough, just as the man said, Seyoung had on a uniform with the gallery logo stitched on it.
“And by the look of it, he’s unconscious.”
Choi Munhyuk stepped closer, drawing level with Yoon Haegang’s shoulder.
“Do you need help? Say the word and the gallery will handle it.”
“Ah, in that case. Um, I’m his friend.”
Seojin forced himself to meet the man’s eyes straight on and laid the story out calmly.
“He came down with a bad cold, a really rough one, and he called me to come pick him up because he couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sorry, but could you pass it on to whoever’s in charge that he got sick and had to leave partway through? His name’s Shin Seyoung.”
Since things had come to this anyway, he figured he’d feed Choi Munhyuk a reasonable excuse and smooth over Shin Seyoung walking off the job.
He wouldn’t get paid regardless, disappearing in the middle of a shift like this. But surely “he was sick and out of it” was a better look going forward than vanishing without a word.
Yoon Haegang, planted in front of him, stared like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but Seojin stubbornly kept his eyes on Choi Munhyuk.
I’ll just ask Shin Seyoung to back up the story later.
This whole mess had been set off by his heat cycle in the first place, so once Seojin explained, Seyoung would go along with it.
At least the suppressant finally seems to be kicking in. Small mercies.
Even holding Seyoung up against him, Seojin could only catch the faintest trace of it now. Of course, both Alphas standing here were dominants. The longer this dragged on, the greater the chance they’d react to the pheromones, so he had to move before that happened.
“We’ll be going, then!”
Seojin bobbed his head at the two of them and made to step forward. But the wall blocking his path didn’t budge an inch, and the attempt died a pointless death.
Yoon Haegang had no intention of moving. If anything, that cold stare seemed to be interrogating him: where exactly do you think you’re going? Seojin looked back at him, pouring every ounce of pleading he had into it.
But Yoon Haegang only went on staring down at him with those relentless eyes, as if he meant to dig through Seojin’s insides and lay every last thing out in the open.
What is with him, why is he looking at me like that, it’s terrifying...
There seemed to be a blue flame circling in those cold pupils. Seojin had no confidence he could hold that gaze for long, and he was quietly lowering his eyes to the floor when it happened.
“Hm... All right. Contacting the person in charge is all well and good, but what he needs more than that is help right now. You’ve got a child with you, so it looks like you’ll have a hard time managing alone.”
Choi Munhyuk took a step forward as he spoke up, tipping his chin toward Euni, who was pressed tight against Seojin’s side.
“So I’ll take our staff member off your hands.”
Oh...!
Seojin cheered inwardly.
The main top really is a cut above!
These two ended up together in the original anyway. If he got the two of them connected right here and now, he’d be able to escape this exhausting mess himself going forward.
And Yoon Haegang won’t have a single opening to squeeze into!
Calculations complete, Seojin was about to nod eagerly.
“General Manager Choi, why don’t you head back inside? Weren’t you called out here by Executive Director Choi? Or the gallery director, or whoever it was.”
Yoon Haegang cut between them in a frigid tone. Not content with that, he stepped forward and blocked Seojin’s view entirely.
Oh, come on! Don’t do this! I’m trying to dodge the road where you and I both go down in flames, so you’re supposed to be helping me!
Yoon Haegang was probably just acting in keeping with his sub-yandere-top narrative. But Seojin, who knew exactly what this would lead to down the line, glared at him with the eyes of a man about to lose his mind and start jumping.
At the same time, Choi Munhyuk’s sharp brows twitched.
“President Yoon, you’re the one who ought to hurry back inside. Didn’t you step out in the middle of an important discussion with Executive Director Choi?”
He gestured with his eyes at the documents in Yoon Haegang’s hand.
“The sick man is gallery staff, so I’ll take responsibility for him.”
With that, Choi Munhyuk dropped a hand onto Yoon Haegang’s shoulder. Seojin sucked in a sharp breath. A taut, freezing current had started running between the two dominant Alphas. He could feel a cold sweat crawling down his spine.
Both of them had to be pouring out aggressive pheromones. If even he, close enough to a Beta that he could barely register it, felt this much pressure, then what about Shin Seyoung, who was deep in a heat cycle?
Haa... what do I do if he goes out cold at this rate?
It was fine here and now, but in the original, the thing that set the main couple off on their disaster was precisely Shin Seyoung losing his reason to a heat cycle.
That, however, was a device for the sake of a good story, and in this situation, with himself wedged in the middle of it, it was nothing but unwelcome.
What am I supposed to do here?
Seojin swallowed dryly, looking back and forth between them. Butt in carelessly and the sparks would land on him. But he couldn’t exactly stand still either, not when it kept getting worse by the second.
He was agonizing furiously over some way to defuse the whole thing, and just as he finally opened his mouth, Yoon Haegang beat him to it.
“Noh Seojin, get your friend home safe. I’ll see you later.”
“Sorry? Later? Why?”
Seojin blinked at Yoon Haegang, utterly lost.
“What do you mean, why? You have to report in. You’re my employee, aren’t you?”
What was that. He had the distinct feeling Yoon Haegang had just said something extremely childish. Seojin narrowed his eyes and shot him a look, half in disbelief.
“What? Is there a problem?”
Yoon Haegang tilted his head. Looking at that face, smiling with nothing but one corner of his mouth hitched up, Seojin arrived at a perfectly reasonable suspicion. Namely: Choi Munhyuk had gotten his back up going on about Shin Seyoung being his staff, and now he was taking it out on Seojin.
That, that... honestly, the temper on this man!
Seojin was grumbling away inside his own head when it happened.
“Hnngh... Daddyyy.”
Euni’s whine cracked clean through the knife-edge tension.
“When are we goingg? Euni’s sleepy.”
Drowsy past bearing, the child was rubbing at her eyes with both fists.
“Okay, Euni. We’re going. Sorry, sweetheart, let’s go right now.”
It was well past nine. A five-year-old should have been in bed by now. Snapping back to himself, Seojin patted Euni and shook his head at Yoon Haegang.
“President, I’m truly sorry, but as you can see, my daughter’s exhausted. I don’t think I can come back out here tonight.”
And if you had any conscience at all, you wouldn’t be ordering an employee who’s already off the clock to come and go like a yo-yo! Seojin shouted it where Yoon Haegang would never hear it: inside his own head.
“I’ll be heading out for today. Have a good weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”
What came out of his mouth instead was the stock, polite farewell of a salaryman. Yoon Haegang’s gaze swept back and forth between Seojin and Euni. Then, without warning, he snatched Shin Seyoung away from where he’d been propped against Seojin.
It happened in the space of a blink, a hawk carrying off a chick, and Seojin’s mouth and eyes fell open. Yoon Haegang slung Shin Seyoung over his shoulder like a sack of freight and walked past Choi Munhyuk.
“General Manager Choi, go on in and hand this to the Executive Director for me. Tell him to look it over and call me. He’ll understand.”
With that he shoved the documents against Choi Munhyuk’s chest hard enough to make a sound, and strolled off at his leisure.
“Keep up, Noh Seojin. Otherwise we’re taking my car.”
He tossed out the horrifying line without so much as a glance back.
“Wait for me, President!”
Seojin scooped Euni up in a rush and started after Yoon Haegang. A large hand appeared in front of his face and stopped him short.
“Here, my card. If you run into trouble or you need help, call this number.”
Choi Munhyuk said it courteously, holding the business card out in front of Seojin. Seojin blinked at it, baffled as to why it was being given to him.
Ah! It was meant for Shin Seyoung, and I got in the way, that’s all!
Getting it a beat late, Seojin accepted the card and stuffed it into his trouser pocket for the time being. In the meantime those long legs of Yoon Haegang’s had carried him off into the distance, and panic set in.
“If you’ll excuse me!”
Seojin bent at the waist in a quick bow and bolted after Yoon Haegang. Left standing alone, Choi Munhyuk watched Seojin and Yoon Haegang’s retreating backs with distinct interest. Seojin, having no eyes in the back of his head, had no way of noticing.
It didn’t take long to catch up. More precisely, he caught up because Yoon Haegang slowed down for him.
“Haah, hah, hah.”
Omega or not, Shin Seyoung was a grown man. Even with that grown man draped over his shoulder, Yoon Haegang’s breathing hadn’t so much as hitched. Seojin, who had sprinted flat out with a child in his arms, had his heart in his throat and felt about one step from dropping dead.
“So where’s the car?”
“Haa... it should be, somewhere near the guard post.”
The moment he’d wheezed out his answer, Yoon Haegang started walking back toward the parking lot entrance without a word. Seojin shot a hard glare at the back of that infuriating head, let out a deep sigh, and followed.
Maybe he was imagining it.
But on the cool night wind, the faintest trace of Yoon Haegang’s own heavy, dangerous pheromones seemed to reach him.
