Chapter 2

In a Dream

A dark night. Pure white cherry blossom petals rained down onto the car’s hood.

A tall man stood within that surreal landscape, as if someone had scattered white paint, or perhaps like an untimely snow had fallen.

His short-cropped hair seemed to make him uncomfortable; he kept stroking the back of his head. Then, he suddenly kicked a pebble that snagged at his shoe.

“Damn it.”

In that instant, the scene transformed from a picturesque masterpiece into something out of a noir film.

He threw back his head, swore, and had been scuffing the sole of his shoe against the asphalt for what felt like dozens of minutes. Just as another coarse curse word was about to escape his lips, someone finally appeared.

It was Guk Geonwoo, a man with a sleek physique like a well-bred racehorse, dressed in dazzlingly white golf attire.

“Wow… Does he even have a concept of time? What am I supposed to do with this clueless executive director, seriously?”

“When will my secretary learn to speak more politely?”

His calm response to such rude insubordination, and his excessively relaxed gait despite making someone wait, clearly showed he held the upper hand.

“I told you I wouldn’t do it! I’m just not cut out for these kinds of suits in the first place, you know?”

“Doesn’t sound like something someone who aggressively negotiated a raise with wide, red eyes should be saying.”

It was unclear if they got along, but they were definitely employer and employee. Soon, hazy cigarette smoke curled between the two men.

They stood in front of <General Plan>, a private clubhouse operating on an exclusive membership basis.

This was a place where the ultra-elite, including chairmen or heirs of corporations worth tens or hundreds of trillions, political figures, high-ranking officials, and occasionally celebrities who had amassed unique wealth and fame on their own, frequented solely for ‘amusement.’

What exactly they did inside was anyone’s guess, but people usually entered looking pristine and emerged with glazed eyes or flushed faces.

Guk Geonwoo, however, was different. His face always looked as if he’d just sat through a tedious performance. His dry gaze suggested he hadn’t enjoyed a single moment inside.

“Oh, right. Someone was being carried out earlier, weren’t they?”

“There are always people who just have to cross lines, no matter where they are.”

“Figures,” the man clicked his tongue.

Standing side by side, they watched the clubhouse’s emblem, silently inhaling smoke for a while.

The stone statue, erected to make the place seem like an ordinary clubhouse, happened to be in the shape of a horse—an unbridled horse. Everyone joked that whoever chose it, it was an excellent choice.

As their cigarettes burned down, Geonwoo suddenly stretched out an arm, stroking the bristly back of his secretary’s head. “So, Secretary Yang. The task I assigned?”

The man roughly swatted away the intrusive hand, then, with a curse, presented the tablet he was holding.

It contained ten photos in total, timestamped pictures that seemed to summarize someone’s entire day. From bright morning until deep night, the person in the photos was making various expressions, unaware they were being photographed.

Geonwoo flipped through the photos with what seemed like a detached expression, his brow furrowing slightly at the last image. It showed a man and woman entering a hotel, arm in arm, looking affectionate.

“Don’t they look great together? They’re having a birthday party in the lounge right now.”

Perhaps due to the light reflecting off the screen, Geonwoo’s face appeared as pale as a corpse.

“Are you going?”

Receiving no answer from Geonwoo, the man shook his head, then nodded again.

“Right. Of course you’re going. Going to make another pointless scene, aren’t you? Huh?”

Again, Geonwoo remained silent, only returning a look that asked why he even bothered asking.

In response, the man clicked his tongue in exasperation, finally raising a fist to the air, muttering curses under his breath.

The lounge on the top floor of the JW Hotel was a completely different world.

Outside the windows, Seoul’s dazzling nightscape stretched out like a galaxy. On the ceiling, an aurora made of light flowed, while on stage, a pianist in a deeply backless dress played with passionate intensity. In short, it was a resplendent space where one hardly knew where to look.

“Thanks for coming, Lee Yeon.”

“Of course I’d come.”

Clink. Long-stemmed champagne flutes tapped together, producing a clear chime.

The attention of everyone around them focused on the two, who exchanged subtle glances often seen between lovers.

Jeong Sihyeon and Lee Yeon. The romantic relationship between the third-generation scion who recently became the owner of the JW Group Hotel chain and the model who suddenly appeared like a comet was already an open secret in their circles.

From the day they were caught together, rumors spread widely, and since neither actively denied anything, it was practically official.

Whether their relationship was truly romantic or just a common sponsorship, people weren’t particularly keen on knowing the truth. They merely consumed it as entertaining gossip. Their connection was nothing more than light conversation: “That” silver spoon managed to snag “that” famous model.

“How much longer do I need to stay?”

“About thirty minutes? Our chairman’s snitch hasn’t arrived yet. Tired?”

“A little.”

But all of this was fake.

It was all just a perfect act; Jeong Sihyeon and Lee Yeon were in a business arrangement, cooperating to get what each wanted.

“Lee Yeon, I’m just going to take this call.”

Jeong Sihyeon had another woman he loved. She was supposedly a lover he’d won over after a long period of unrequited affection.

He was solidifying his position to protect his real girlfriend, and in the process, he was using Lee Yeon to deceive his family elders and the general public. Of course, Lee Yeon was also cooperating for her own reasons.

“By the way, stop drinking that. It’s quite strong, you know?”

“Is it?”

She was puzzled, as it was the sweetest and freshest champagne she’d ever tasted, when Jeong Sihyeon said with an exaggeratedly serious face:

“Lee Yeon, you have to be careful of things that are overly sweet. Whatever they may be.”

His eyes, which had tried to look mature, quickly curved with playfulness, but his words seemed to have been no joke.

“I definitely warned you.”

As a result, Lee Yeon ended up ignoring his warning.

This meant she got completely drunk.

It was partly intentional. Memories kept unfolding even when she tried to tuck them away, feeling overwhelming, so she wanted to lose herself, even if it meant relying on alcohol. The champagne, being sweet and delicious, also made it easy to keep reaching for her glass.

“Mm…”

She kept sipping whenever a pang hit her heart, and before she knew it, there were several empty glasses.

At some point, Lee Yeon realized her blurry vision wasn’t clearing up again.

Had she… gotten a little drunk? A sense of alarm hit her belatedly, and when she looked around for Jeong Sihyeon, he was already gone.

She had no idea how much time had passed. She tried to straighten her weakening back and pulled out her phone, only to find the battery dead. Just as frustration began to set in, Lee Yeon spotted a black card on the bar table.

When had he left it? Jeong Sihyeon had given her hotel rooms before, so she immediately recognized it as a room key. The problem was, she didn’t remember him giving it to her, nor any instructions to stay the night.

At least she wouldn’t have to bother her manager, who had already gone home for the day.

But perhaps her relief was too premature. The moment she thought she was saved, her drunken body and mind began to collapse at an alarming rate.

Lee Yeon quickly grabbed the card and left the lounge. However, her firm resolve to stand tall lasted only until the elevator doors.

“Is it… floor 20? 23? 28? What is this number…?”

The numbers on the card key were hard to see, and even holding it right up to her face, she couldn’t make them out.

She was certainly paying the price for dismissing the champagne as “just sweet.”

“This is really bad,” she mumbled.

Yet, oddly, a laugh escaped her.

Even biting her lips, a silly giggle kept bubbling out. Was this what happened when you got completely plastered? Thinking this wouldn’t do, she pressed the back of her hand against her lips to stifle it.

“Ugh.”

Her ankle twisted, and her vision swayed violently.

Certain she was about to fall, she quickly reached out, and luckily managed to grab onto something, avoiding disaster.

“Hmm?”

She only realized later that what she had grabbed was someone else’s arm.

This was after she noticed that the owner of the firm arm,an arm so solid she might have mistaken it for a pillar—was wearing jet-black shoes.

“Oh… I’m so sorry…”

Her head felt too heavy; she bowed, staring at the toe of his shoe, then swayed again, trying to stand straight but stumbling once more. As she flailed about like she was performing a solo slapstick routine, her benefactor continued to help her without a word.

But that silence only doubled her embarrassment.

“Sorry… Ugh, thank you.”

A voice, seemingly laced with a sigh, reached her when Lee Yeon finally managed to straighten herself on the third try.

“Why are you alone?”

It was a voice as firm and dry as the hand that supported her waist.

What had she said in response? Had she claimed it was fine to be alone, or retorted, “Can’t I be alone?”

A sudden surge of wariness made her try to push him away, but she only swayed violently again. After that, her consciousness began to flicker like a broken fluorescent light.

Blink, blink. Her vision changed every time she opened and closed her eyes.

One moment everything was golden, then dazzling patterns appeared, only to be replaced by complete darkness.

Each time the scene before her eyes shifted, she’d flail in surprise, only for a steady arm to support her securely. This made her feel safe, as if embraced by someone familiar.

Then, at some point, as she felt buried in white, fluffy clouds like whipped cream, her consciousness completely faded.

“Mmm…”

She only remembered the soft sensation wrapping around her tired body, which felt incredibly good.

Through her hazy vision, she saw her shoes lying scattered on the floor, but she couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality. In her daze, she just kept feeling as if someone was beside her, and her eyelids were too heavy.

“Haah…”

When her tension completely released, a face unfailingly rose to her mind.

A face she longed to see but couldn’t, now almost a phantom. As she quietly dwelled on it, imagining the presence of someone who wasn’t there became easy.

If only it were truly you. How wonderful that would be.

How wonderful if you were really here beside me right now.

Just the thought brought a warmth to her eyes, and at the same time, a weak smile escaped her.

“What’s so funny?” a low voice asked. A voice much deeper and more mature than she remembered.

This imagination felt quite plausible today.

“You…”

Yes. Just let her think it was him. Let her believe he had come to her in a dream after such a long time.

“Why are you so late…?”

As the warmth that touched her hesitantly outstretched fingertips felt real, the emotions she had so desperately suppressed all day long surged forth like a broken dam.

“How long… I’ve waited for you…”

Did it truly feel like she was holding his hand today because she was so incredibly drunk?

San.

“Don’t go…”

Don’t leave me alone. Please.