Side story 3. Ch 1.4

The next morning, I opened my eyes to find the other side of the bed already empty. Clutching my head, which felt like it had been split in two from the hangover, I wandered around the house searching for any trace of him. I peeked into the shower, stepped out onto the terrace, even opened the door to the room I used to sleep in.

He was nowhere to be found.

Class time was approaching, so I had no choice but to give up and get ready for school. Unfortunately, one of today’s lectures was with that professor from yesterday—I didn’t want to go. But I forced myself out the door, reminding myself that the one paying my tuition was that man.

The professor, whom I had worried might say something unnecessary again, surprisingly didn’t even glance my way throughout the entire class. Maybe he realized he’d crossed a line.

As I was heading to my next class, I ran into Yoon Mihyun in the hallway. She was walking with a classmate, chatting, but clammed up the moment she saw me.

“…Hey.”

She looked like she wanted to talk. I only gave her a slight nod and quickly walked away. I could feel her eyes on my back, but I decided it was better for both of us to just keep our distance.

Thinking she might’ve misunderstood because I leaned on her while drunk made me feel deeply sorry. If I had even the slightest clue that she harbored feelings for me, I never would’ve spent time with her so casually. At least now I knew, and I resolved to keep my distance. After drifting apart from the one person I used to talk to at school, I was completely alone.

With barely a word spoken each day, it felt like mushrooms could start growing in my mouth. It was like a vow of silence—but compared to before, not much had changed. I could manage this just fine.

Compared to what was happening with him…

Things between us had grown cold since that incident. I’d heard he was busy, but he still came home. He still occasionally ate with me, shared my bed, sometimes even showered with me. On the surface, not much seemed different from before.

…But we were making noticeably less eye contact.

We hadn’t been very talkative to begin with, but now an oppressive silence had settled between us.

‘Shut your mouth while I’m still trying to calm down.’

He’d said that in the heat of the moment, but his voice was burned into my mind like it was etched there. Was he still trying to calm down? If so, I had no idea what I should do. I kept shrinking into myself, afraid he’d push me away again.

Today, as usual, I was walking to lunch after my morning class. I was halfway down the hall when I realized I’d forgotten something. Sighing at my own stupidity, I turned back to the lecture hall. The door, a bit old and loose, had a slight gap at the handle. Through it, I heard a voice.

“So weird.”

At that moment, I never imagined they were talking about me. But the next sentence froze me in place before I could open the door.

“His parents are dead, but every single thing he wears is designer.”

The empty classroom was abuzz with talk about me. I let out a small sigh. I was completely sick of this kind of thing by now.

“When he first entered school, he was just a total nobody.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. He was good-looking, so he stood out, but he got through the season with just a few outfits. After he came back from leave, he was decked out head to toe in designer brands—there were so many rumors.”

It was a casual conversation, like snacking on peanuts, shared in my absence. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard people talk about me like this, so I just felt numb. Ignoring everyone in the classroom, I reached for the doorknob to quickly retrieve my phone.

But I immediately regretted it when I heard the next question.

“Don’t tell me he’s blowing all that money from a life insurance payout?”

The doorknob slipped from my hand. Or rather, I let it go. If I could have, I would’ve run off right then. If my phone hadn’t been in there—if it hadn’t been the phone that man gave me—I would have turned around and walked away without hesitation.

Creak. As I twisted the doorknob, the room fell silent. People snapped their heads in my direction, but I acted like I hadn’t seen anything and walked to my seat to grab my phone. Then I immediately left the classroom.

I blended into the noisy crowd, walking alone out of the school. My mood sank lower and lower.

Compared to before, I was doing much better. The hallucinations, the sleep disorders—I’d improved a lot in many areas. But the past had still left scars. Even now, I sometimes felt like I was disconnected from the world and from myself. Without any warning, that feeling would suddenly take over my whole body. As if a bucket of black cement had been dumped over me—everything turned dark, and I’d be left completely alone.

The things people said about me crawled into my mind like insects. They ate away at me bit by bit.

Don’t tell me he’s blowing all that money from a life insurance payout?

Voices mocking me, judging me carelessly, laughing as they spoke. They’d say those things about me and then forget all about it the moment they turned around.

I heard both his parents died when he was really young.

Feigned sympathy. Or maybe they were using me to bask in the glow of their own so-called generosity. Speaking aloud the thoughts I’d only vaguely entertained made it all feel that much more real. It made everything feel that much more pathetic.

I’d known I couldn’t live normally among people. But experiencing it like this… the wall around me felt unmistakably real. I thought I’d grown numb.

But it still hurt.

In the silent car ride home, I kept my eyes fixed on the window. The end of May, when spring slips into summer. The weather was beautiful, the sun shining down, and the world outside was filled with scenes of everyday life.

People waiting at traffic lights, yawning from the weariness of daily routine, walking down the street. Ordinary lives, so mundane and repetitive that they must feel tiresome to those living them. But to me, they looked peaceful in their simplicity.

I quietly asked myself:
…Why can’t I be allowed that kind of ordinary life?
Did I ask for too much?

“I said I’d come pick you up that day, but one of the guys downstairs caused a mess, so I couldn’t make it.”

“……”

“The CEO said he would pick you up.”

He trailed off, sneaking a glance at me through the rearview mirror. He must’ve had something he wanted to ask. Something must’ve felt off to him since that day. That man’s moods always hit rock bottom when things weren’t good between us.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s at the Royal.”

“…How’s he doing?”

“Hmm.”

Kim Joongdeok smiled gently, hesitating. A man who could probably knock down Mount Taebaek with nothing but loyalty to his boss, he carefully chose his words before answering.

“He’s been working nonstop for days, so he’s a little on edge.”

If he’s “a little on edge,” then I wouldn’t be surprised if he was throwing a full-blown tantrum right now.

“Should we head to the Royal?”

“Yes.”

After a while, the road became familiar. At the end of it would be the place I was thinking of… the Royal Golf Club.

Once the car stopped in the parking lot, I stepped out from the back seat and made my way into the hotel lobby. I used to feel sick just looking at the building. But now, even when I looked at it, I felt nothing. No rush of emotion.

A group of employees walking together stole glances in my direction. Dressed like a college student, I must’ve piqued their curiosity. “Who’s that?” Most of them were unfamiliar. The staff must’ve changed. By the time I returned to the Royal with that man, the ones I didn’t get along with—him, Lee Hyewon—they were already gone. But no one here ever mentioned them. It was as if they’d never existed at all.

This place remained as closed off and depraved as ever. No one bothered hiding their base desires. And yet, I felt like I could breathe a little more easily here than I could in the outside world. Ironically enough. Maybe it was because everyone here had skeletons in their closet—so it felt like it was okay for someone like me to slip in unnoticed. Mold and rot always thrive better in the shade than in the sun, after all.

Lost in such thoughts, I followed Kim Joongdeok down the hallway until we arrived in front of Room 1104. I carefully reached out and pressed the doorbell, waiting for a response from inside. But no matter how long we waited, there was no answer.

“Seems he’s really busy.”

Looking slightly awkward, Kim Joongdeok offered a sheepish smile as he spoke on the man’s behalf.

“Maybe you could try calling out to him?”

His suggestion made me hesitate. I asked, uncertainly,

“Do you think he’ll open the door?”

“Of course.”

He laughed broadly at my cautious question, showing all twenty-some of his teeth. But even with his answer, I couldn’t feel reassured. I probably shouldn’t have come after all. Reading the regret on my face, Kim Joongdeok knocked softly on the door. His movements were restrained, but there was an urgency to them, like he felt he needed to act before I changed my mind.

“Sir, Seo Yeowon is here.”

Even at his words, silence followed. Just as I was about to decide it had been a mistake to come, the thick door creaked open inward. The man stood there, shirt unbuttoned a few notches, looking down at me. His sharp eyes narrowed even further.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze shifted past me to Kim Joongdeok. His cold eyes turned on him, and Kim Joongdeok quickly bent his back like a shrimp.

“Well then, I’ll leave you two to it.”

Click. The door shut. The man’s frowning eyes returned to me. On the table sat several bottles of vodka, likely half-drunk while working. Stacks of papers lay beside them—documents filled with terms I couldn’t even begin to understand. If Kim Joongdeok said he was busy, it didn’t seem like a lie.

“…I think I interrupted you.”

I stepped toward him. He didn’t blink once, staring at me as I came closer. I glanced at the bottles on the table and slowly spoke.

“I want to drink too.”

I curled my lips into a smile for him. But the strength in my facial muscles faded quickly, leaving me with an awkward, unreadable expression. The man stared at me as if trying to figure something out. His mocking voice followed.

“So you came all the way here just because you felt like drinking?”

There wasn’t really a reason. I just wanted to see him. I nodded without resistance, and the man walked over to the table and handed me a fresh glass. I sat beside him, took the glass, and drank. The strong alcohol, completely undiluted, burned down my throat and set my stomach on fire.

We sat in silence for a while, sharing drinks.

“That night.”

I finally spoke first.

“I thought it was you.”

Looking back, it didn’t make sense. Yoon Mihyun was quite tall for a woman, but nowhere near the height of the CEO. There was a clear difference in their builds, yet I’d confused the two. I must’ve been far too drunk, caught up in a ridiculous misunderstanding.

“I was waiting for you, so maybe that’s why I imagined something so absurd.”

I’d been lost in that illusion for a while—until she asked about the ring. That snapped me out of it like cold water to the face. More than realizing the person holding me was Mihyun, it was the fact that she was touching my ring that had shocked me most.

I reacted extremely sensitively. I quickly yanked my hand back, embarrassing Mihyun. My uncharacteristic reaction startled her, but no one was more shocked than I was. I had rarely experienced such intense emotions in my life. Yet, if it happened again, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t react just as sharply.  

 

At the time, it wasn’t just discomfort I felt. Yoon Mihyun’s touch set off alarm bells in me—because what she was touching wasn’t my body, but a man’s ring.  

 

There was no other reason. I simply hated the idea of someone else touching what belonged to him. Realizing this must be what possessiveness feels like for a man, I could almost, just a little, understand why some men detested others laying hands on what was theirs.  

“I missed you. I was waiting.” 

 

That was when I had tried to escape the unbearable drinking gathering. The thought that it would be nice if he were by my side had flickered through my mind. That was why I lost my judgment even more and leaned into him.  

 

Suddenly, he tilted his chin toward my face. Thinking he was going to kiss me, I unconsciously parted my lips—but his destination was the nape of my neck. He buried his nose against my skin and inhaled deeply, as if checking whether I carried someone else’s scent. The bridge of his nose rubbed against my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine. He undid the buttons of my shirt, pulled it down to my shoulders, and pressed his face against my collarbone.  

 

“…Hmm. You smell clean.” 

 

Having made his assessment, he rose from the couch. The prominent bulge in his pants immediately caught my eye. I looked up at him. His gaze, tinged with a deeper red than usual, bore down on me. Slowly, I reached for his zipper and pulled it down. The scorching heat that met my palm made me flinch.  

 

In the silence, a soft *gulp*, the sound of a dry swallow, reached my ears.  

 

“Take it out.”  

 

Following his urging, I pulled out his flushed, throbbing length from his pants. The thick shaft filled my hand completely. When I moved my hand up and down, the veins pulsed visibly beneath my palm.  

 

He lifted my arm and wedged himself into my armpit. What is this? Bewildered, I looked up at him. His voice, slightly ragged, coaxed me.  

 

“Squeeze tight.”  

 

All my life, I’d only ever been told to relax—so much that the words were etched into my ears. Now, hearing something entirely new, I reflexively tightened my arm without even understanding what he intended to do. The man, having slipped his c*ck into a place more intimate than my groin, began thrusting his hips.  

 

With my arm pressed tightly against my side, I watched as he slid in and out beneath my armpit. The broad head of his c*ck rubbed relentlessly against my skin. It was so long that it even brushed against my nipple. As I stared at the small, flushed bud, a strange feeling settled over me.  

 

This was a place most people would hesitate to even look at. Why was he getting off on fucking it?  

 

“…Hngh.” 

 

His moan reverberated in my ear. My entire body felt drenched. He must have known this wasn’t a place I could easily show anyone. Not that anyone else would care—unless they were as perverse as him.  

 

I tilted my head back to look up at him. I wanted to ask: Is this aberrant fetish also rooted in your possessiveness? His glistening eyes, burning with lust, locked onto mine. His gaze seemed to answer for him. Yes. Then, the madness continued.  

 

I hunched my shoulders, trapping him tighter. Gripping the base of his cock, I dragged my tongue along the length of his shaft. When he thrust again, the thick flesh hit the roof of my mouth. Fighting back the urge to gag, I swirled my tongue around him. Drool dripped from my chin.  

 

As I licked the man who was panting from fucking one of the most unspeakable parts of my body, I felt my head and body grow hot simultaneously. Him, obsessed with such a place. Me, aroused by the fact that he was obsessed with it. Neither of us was in our right mind.  

***

Time passed quickly. With finals approaching and graduation requirements to fulfill, I was swamped, barely able to catch my breath. Though physically exhausted, the silver lining was that I no longer had time to dwell on the professor whose gaze had grown uncomfortable or the whispers of those who’d been caught gossiping about me.  

 

After my last exam, I stepped out of the school building. On my way out, I spotted an incinerator and tossed my textbooks inside. Only then did it hit me—it was finally over. I should have felt relieved, but instead, I just felt numb.  

 

Kicking the ground with my sneakers, I passed through the school gates—  

 

…Huh.

 

His car was parked right outside. As I approached and opened the back door, he turned his head to look at me.  

 

The car stopped in front of a restaurant—the same one Kim Joongdeok had recommended before. The place where he had once scowled, annoyed that his dinner was ruined. Whether he had reserved the entire place or not, the other tables were empty.  

 

There, he dropped unexpected news: he had acquired Royal. At first, I just stared at him silently, wondering why he was telling me this. He smirked without explanation. Watching the curve of his eyes, I felt a flicker of unease but brushed it off.  

 

That complacency cost me. CEO Jang, who claimed to be ‘too damn busy’ running his own business, had been waiting to hand over Royal’s presidency—no, more like dump it—onto me. Expecting nothing more than a modest office job, I now sat in the chair he’d thrust me into, clutching my head in my hands.  

 

The multimillion-won suit he’d dressed me in weighed heavily on my shoulders.  

 

***  

 

Beneath an elegant black nameplate engraved with my name in gold, the man who had unceremoniously installed me as president smirked.  

 

“This’ll really fuel the rumors.”  

 

He was referring to the new employee who had just left the room. Only then did I realize he had deliberately touched my ear in front of them.  

 

“……”  

 

He couldn’t possibly understand how piercing the stares were every time I walked through the hall—how they clung to my face and body. The employees were undoubtedly whispering in the locker room, but it didn’t even matter anymore. By now, most knew CEO Jang was my sponsor.  

 

“I have nothing left to lose, so it’s fine… but what about you, CEO?”  

 

His hand, which had been stroking the nape of my neck and teasing my ear, suddenly fisted in my hair.  

 

The pull grew stronger, forcing my head back. I let out a small moan as I met his gaze. A man like him—one who derived pleasure from my feigned weakness—would only indulge me if I played the part. So I didn’t hold back, furrowing my brows and letting the pain show.  

 

“…Ah.”  

 

Satisfied, he grinned, baring his teeth. His lips met my exposed throat, pressing down with a wet, possessive weight.  

 

Even just locking eyes with him filled a strange, hollow corner of my chest.  

 

Since childhood, I had always longed for an ordinary life.  

 

Hiding under the covers after my father’s drunken punches, reeking of alcohol, I would sniffle and think: I just want to live normally, like everyone else.  

 

A plain, odorless apartment. A kitchen filled with the smell of good food. Ordinary parents who loved their child unconditionally, who hugged them and said ‘I love you’. Those were the things I dreamed of.  

 

The life I had with him was certainly not the ordinary one I had envisioned.  

 

Maybe what I had truly wanted wasn’t an ordinary life, but simply the warmth of another person to soothe my loneliness.  

 

Now, just being with him was enough to make me feel whole.