DR 2
by Calen_ongo“…!”
Ahyun felt like she’d been whacked over the head.
For a moment, reality slipped away.
The door closed, and the two men disappeared into the CEO’s office, but Ahyun still couldn’t pull herself together.
“No way. I must’ve seen it wrong…?”
Blinking rapidly, she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks.
“How could he be with the CEO?”
The phantom she’d seen was none other than Suhyeok.
Cha Suhyeok, the star of last night’s masturbation fantasy.
Her childhood friend, Suhyeok.
Her first love, Suhyeok.
The man she’d been engaged to, Suhyeok.
The one she’d abandoned, leaving him broken when she didn’t show up at their wedding.
“Snap out of it. Sleep-deprived or what? No way Suhyeok’s here.”
She’d convinced herself she’d never see him again.
“Right. Just someone who looks like him. After we broke up, I used to see things too.”
Ahyun was certain she’d made a mistake.
She tried to shake it off, but the afterimage of that supposed-to-be-mistaken Suhyeok lingered in her mind.
Normally, with the CEO entertaining a guest, she’d hurry into the office to assist politely.
But thoughts of Suhyeok swirled in her head, paralyzing her.
“Not the time for this. Get it together. You’re at work.”
Slapping her own cheeks, Ahyun yanked herself out of her daze. She told herself it was obviously a hallucination, but her heart pounded like it wanted to burst, and there was no taming it.
*Knock, knock.*
With two sharp raps, Ahyun entered the CEO’s office, balancing a tray of refreshments.
“…Refreshments are ready.”
Ahyun set down the tea and cookies on the sofa table, only to freeze like a statue.
Her breath caught in her throat. Cold sweat trickled down her spine. Her face flushed an embarrassing red. Her hands, placing the tray, trembled uncontrollably.
The man she’d convinced herself was a mistake was unmistakably Suhyeok.
She’d thought his face had faded from memory—another delusion. The moment she saw him, Suhyeok snapped back into sharp focus in her mind.
How could she forget?
Her childhood friend, the man she’d nearly vowed to spend forever with—Cha Suhyeok.
Catching her gaze, Suhyeok narrowed his eyes, clearly as rattled by this reunion as she was.
His wavering pupils betrayed his own shock.
“Secretary Kang, perfect timing. Come sit and greet CEO Cha,” CEO Jeong said warmly.
“…Pardon?”
Ahyun stumbled back instinctively, as if she’d seen a ghost. Suhyeok let out a dry chuckle, amused by her reaction.
Meeting him after four years, Suhyeok was a different man.
The delicate, idol-like charm of his youth had ripened into the rugged allure of a movie star.
The handsome boy she’d known had grown into a man whose beauty was fully realized.
Twenty-nine years old—a man in his prime, radiating brilliance.
By contrast, despite being the same age, Ahyun felt inexplicably shabby.
Suhyeok’s eyes, once strikingly luminous, now held an even deeper intensity, like they carried their own light source.
And that sharp nose—she’d always teased as a kid that his ancestors must’ve included a foreigner.
His chiseled jawline cut like a honed blade, his skin still flawless, pale as kneaded dough without a single pore.
As expected, Suhyeok wore a luxury suit with effortless grace. She remembered picking out wedding attire together, him in a tuxedo—a sight she never saw at the altar.
The suit was B-brand, the watch P-brand, shoes A-brand, tie C-brand.
Even decked in billions’ worth of designer gear, Suhyeok wasn’t overshadowed—he dominated it.
He’d always been the guy who wore the finest things best.
Ahyun had long lost interest in luxury, but standing before the unchanged Suhyeok in her shoddily stitched knockoff clothes, she felt a pang of shame.
“Secretary Kang?”
CEO Jeong’s voice snapped her out of staring at Suhyeok.
“Yes? Yes, sir.”
“Why’re you just standing there? Say hello to CEO Cha, who you’ll be assisting starting tomorrow.”
“…G-Greetings, sir. I’m Kang Ahyun, deputy manager.”
Ahyun reluctantly bowed. Suhyeok tilted his head, crossing his long legs with a slight nod.
“Didn’t expect to meet like this, huh?”
At his flat question, CEO Jeong’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh, you two know each other?”
Suhyeok tilted his head with a hint of irritation, summing up their history curtly.
“Yeah. We went to the same school.”
“What a coincidence!”
Oblivious to their past, CEO Jeong clapped his hands, delighted.
“My apologies for the late introduction. This is Deputy Manager Kang Ahyun, who’ll assist you starting tomorrow. You’re schoolmates, so you might know, but she’s exceptional. Four years with us, and you won’t find anyone like her anywhere.”
At CEO Jeong’s lavish praise, Suhyeok smirked, almost mockingly.
“Guess you really can’t find her kind anywhere.”
His barbed words stung, and Ahyun’s neck flushed with humiliation.
“We’ll handle formalities tomorrow, Secretary Kang. You can go now—I need to speak with CEO Cha privately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dodging Suhyeok’s piercing glare, Ahyun hurried out of the office.
Even sitting back at her desk, her spine still prickled.
To see Suhyeok again…
This had to be heaven’s belated punishment for abandoning him so cruelly.
Pinching her cheek, Ahyun desperately wished it was a dream, but the sharp pain in her reddened skin confirmed this was a reality worse than any nightmare.
* * *
After over two hours of conversation, Suhyeok emerged from the CEO’s office.
As usual, Ahyun bowed politely to the departing guest—no, the new master of the CEO’s office, Cha Suhyeok. But he didn’t so much as acknowledge her, breezing past like she was air.
Fair enough.
To Suhyeok, she probably wasn’t even human.
She knew she’d been the worst, so it made sense he’d want nothing to do with her.
Ahyun slumped into her desk chair.
Like an idiot, she belatedly googled VisionVibe, the company that had acquired StreamTech.
A subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of Kyeonyang Electronics.
“Ugh… no wonder I had no clue.”
Digging through the convoluted investment structure online, she found VisionVibe’s parent company was none other than Kyeonyang Group—chaired by Suhyeok’s father.
Kyeonyang Group dominated every corner of South Korea’s economy, from electronics to beyond.
Why someone like Suhyeok, the youngest son of that empire, would take the helm of a mid-sized company like StreamTech was beyond Ahyun’s grasp.
She’d vaguely heard a senior director from VisionVibe would become StreamTech’s new CEO, but she hadn’t been privy to their background—or even their name.
She’d wondered if the acquisition process was too disorganized, but now it clicked.
To Kyeonyang Group, StreamTech—a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary—was barely a blip on their radar.
Judging by Suhyeok’s expression, he hadn’t expected to run into Ahyun here either.
No wonder the severance package was so generous.
With Kyeonyang’s deep pockets, CEO Jeong had thrown a cash-fueled party.
“Should’ve just taken the voluntary retirement…”
Regret gnawed at her, but the application deadline had long passed.
If she’d known Suhyeok was coming, she’d have grabbed the severance and vanished quietly, stock options be damned.
The old Kang Ahyun lived on pride alone, but not anymore.
From rock bottom to scraping together a lease on a Sadasng officetel, reality had taught her one truth: money ruled the world.
“Yeah, it’s all because of money that I’m in this mess…”
Muttering to herself, Ahyun banged her head on the desk.
She knew ghosting someone was the lowest of lows. But back then, she couldn’t think of any other way to end it.
In her entire life, she’d never once imagined parting with Suhyeok. The only breakup method she could muster that morning was to disappear like a coward.
She was too young then to process it properly.
Even now, she couldn’t think of a better way to have done it. Back then, for the young Ahyun, ghosting was her best shot.
She’d wanted to hold onto her pride in front of Suhyeok.
No—she *had* to protect too many things.
The most important of them was Suhyeok himself.
Not that he ever knew why she chose to vanish.
But the pride she’d clung to back then crumbled entirely today.