MYFL | Chapter 2.5

It wasn’t like the divorce had ended in some tragically bittersweet way—if anything, it had been messy as hell. There was no reason for him to be holding onto any lingering attachments.

“It’s just… It’s the best way to avoid unnecessary trouble.”

“Does ‘unnecessary trouble’ include that master?”

Seungjae didn’t answer. He just smiled.

Yeonji had expected that response.

What a sinful bastard.

Clicking her tongue, she shook her head and cast another pitying glance toward the direction Beomchan had disappeared.

⋆˚🐾˖°

The weekend morning was rudely interrupted by a call from Boss Im. So much for sleeping in for once.

Beomchan, still half-asleep, checked the screen with barely open eyes before flipping his phone back down. Just as he was about to drift back into his peaceful slumber, the phone rang again.

“Ah, what the hell….”

Boss Im only ever called him when he had no one to eat with, no one to drink with, or when there was something going on with the shopping complex. Usually, for those things, if Beomchan didn’t answer, he’d just send a text. It was rare for him to keep calling like this. Did something urgent happen?

Beomchan picked up his phone and slowly sat up. He ran a hand down his face, trying to shake off the drowsiness, then hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Yes, ahjussi.”

His groggy voice was a mess. While waiting for a response, he cleared his throat lightly.

— Oh, Beomchan. You up?

“Yeah, just now. What’s up?”

— Open the door.

“…What?”

Surprised, Beomchan pulled the phone away from his ear and listened closely. He could hear a faint noise coming from outside his front door.

— I said open the door. My arm’s about to fall off, you punk.

The voice coming through the phone overlapped perfectly with the one coming from outside the door.

Startled by the unexpected visit, Beomchan didn’t even think to grab a shirt as he rushed to the entrance. He ruffled the back of his hair with his fingers, slipped on his slippers, and opened the door.

“What the hell is going on this early in the morn—”

He trailed off mid-sentence when he saw who was at the door. It wasn’t just Boss Im. Seungjae was there too.

At that moment, Beomchan suddenly became aware of his own attire—or lack thereof—and hurriedly crossed one arm over his bare chest. But with his build, that didn’t exactly do much to cover him. He quickly pulled the door halfway closed and hid behind it.

“Why the hell are you half-naked in the middle of winter? Here, take this.”

“Hah… What is this?”

“My wife told me to bring you some kimchi, so here it is.”

“Oh… Thanks.”

Beomchan reluctantly opened the door fully and took the kimchi container. It was big enough that he had to hold it with both hands, exposing his bare chest even more. He should’ve gone back in and put on a shirt before answering the door. Not that it mattered anymore—too late for regrets.

“But why….”

Why was he here too?

Beomchan glanced at Boss Im, who was still grinning as if he found this whole thing amusing, and then shifted his gaze to Seungjae, who was standing a little further back. If anyone here should be embarrassed, it was him, but Seungjae’s expression remained completely indifferent.

“Ah, we ran into each other downstairs and got caught up talking, so we just came up together. Oh, by the way, we’re all going out for dinner tonight to celebrate the opening of our cafe owner’s shop. Make some time and come.”

“…Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, we just decided a little while ago with the real estate folks. What, you can’t make it?”

Today was his parents’ wedding anniversary. Even if he skipped their birthdays, attending their anniversary dinner was pretty much mandatory in his family. There was no way he could get out of it.

“I can’t today… Is Seonsaengnim going too?” Beomchan looked at Seungjae and asked, but Boss Im answered for him.

“Of course. Can’t have the guest of honor missing, can we?”

“….”

Of all days, it just had to be today.

If Boss Im was organizing this, there was no way alcohol wouldn’t be involved. It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to be there when Seungjae was. Maybe that disappointment showed on his face, because Boss Im clicked his tongue.

“What, you’re pouting just because you can’t come? You’re a grown man. If you can make it even a little later, drop by. We’ll probably be eating somewhere around here anyway.”

“…Alright.” Beomchan nodded gloomily.

⋆˚🐾˖°

After debating between dining out or eating at home, they decided to have dinner at the family house. Since it was their parents’ wedding anniversary, they opted to order food instead of cooking.

Even though it was just the return of the two sons who used to live there, the house suddenly felt cramped. Both brothers had taken after their father and were built like tanks. Sandwiched between three grown men, their mother kept slapping arms—whether it was her husband’s or her sons’—to direct traffic in the kitchen.

The table was soon filled with their mother’s favorite jokbal, their father’s favorite sushi, and the fried chicken that the brothers were obsessed with. It seemed like a strange combination, but this was just the usual scene in their household. No one in the family was the type to compromise when it came to food.

This happened every time there was a family event—Children’s Day, Parents’ Day, graduations, entrance ceremonies—since they could never agree on what to eat. They always ended up ordering everything. It might have looked excessive to outsiders, but their family had a strong dislike for wasting food, and they were all big eaters, so it never went to waste.

Even with all his favorite food laid out in front of him, Beomchan’s mind was elsewhere. His thoughts kept drifting to the phone in his pocket.

The moment the group moved from the restaurant to a bar, Boss Im had sent him a message. A warning not to waste his time coming. It seemed he hadn’t been joking when he told Beomchan to drop by later if he could.

He couldn’t focus. How much had they drunk? Was it too much? If it was a shopping complex gathering, then Boss Im’s company employees were probably there too. Among them, was there anyone trying to hit on him? One thought led to another, and before he knew it, his leg was bouncing under the table.

Noticing this, Beomjin shot him a sharp glare. He looked like he had something to say, but given the setting, he held back. Instead, he turned away and handed a gift bag to their mother.

“Congratulations, Mother.”

It was a shopping bag with a department store logo.

“What did you bring this time?”

She acted indifferent, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She opened the bag and took out a small box inside. Lifting the lid, she found a neatly arranged set of simple earrings and a necklace.

“Oh wow, this must’ve been expensive. Thank you.”

Seriously, this guy. He still didn’t get it.

Look at Mom’s face. Does that look like genuine happiness to him? She was just saying thank you out of politeness.

Clicking his tongue internally, Beomchan pulled out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Mom, I got you something too.”

“What is it?”

Compared to the flashy department store bag, his plain paper envelope looked unimpressive. But Beomchan was sure—this little piece of paper would bring their mom more joy than his brother’s fancy jewelry.

“Oh my goodness!”

Their mother jumped up from her seat in shock as she read what was written on the envelope.

“What is it?”

Curious about her dramatic reaction, their father leaned over and asked. Since their mom was too excited to speak, Beomchan answered for her.

“It’s nothing much. You know that trot singer Mom likes? They’re having a concert nearby, so I got her tickets.”

“Nothing much?! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get these?! All my friends were losing their minds trying to buy them!”

He had bribed a friend who was experienced in snatching up idol concert tickets just to secure these.

“I knew you really wanted to go.”

“You’re the best, my son! I have to tell Misuk about this.”

With a face flushed from excitement, their mother quickly flipped open her phone. Ttok, ttok. The sound of her tapping out a message was unusually cheerful.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t get anything for your father.”

“The tickets are for two, so you can go with Dad.”

“No point in raising kids, huh.”

As soon as the meal was finished and they started clearing the table, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Beomchan immediately checked it.

Boss Im had sent a group photo.

It must have been taken just now because even through the image, he could practically smell the alcohol.

Beomchan’s eyes sharpened as he scanned the picture, searching for Seungjae.

There he was, squeezed between people, flashing his signature eye-smile. His face was slightly flushed—definitely tipsy.

“Mom, Dad, I’m heading out.”

Beomchan quickly started getting ready to leave.

“You’re going already? Why not just sleep over?”

“Next time. I still have things to do tonight.”

“Well, if you have to go, you have to go.”

His mother’s disappointed tone made Beomchan feel a brief pang of guilt, but he quickly shook it off. He rushed to the shoe rack and slipped on his sneakers in a hurry.

After giving both his mom and dad a quick hug at the doorway, he waved at them as he stepped into the elevator. Just before the doors closed, he thought he heard Beomjin mutter something along the lines of “That bastard…”

He had walked here earlier, but feeling too impatient, he flagged down a taxi instead. The ride barely took five minutes—just the base fare—before he arrived at his destination. As soon as he got his card back from the driver, he jumped out of the car and strode toward the bar in long, hurried steps.

Beomchan pushed open the door and stood at the entrance, scanning the room for a familiar face.

“Oh, Beomchan!”

Boss Im was the first to spot him, waving a hand in the air.

The table was packed with familiar faces—shopping complex people, Boss Im’s company employees, and even the usual freeloaders who always managed to sniff out an open drinking session.

As Beomchan approached, Boss Im pulled an extra chair from a nearby table and placed it beside himself. But Beomchan ignored him completely and instead squeezed himself into the seat next to Seungjae.

“You’re here?” Seungjae smiled, his face slack and relaxed.

Beomchan immediately started assessing his condition. He looked way drunker than he did in the photo. His face was flushed, and his voice was completely slurred. His half-lidded eyes curved in a lazy smile.

That alone was enough to make Beomchan sigh, but on top of that, his pheromones seemed to be seeping out, probably due to his loosened state. Thankfully, Beomchan was the only one here who could sense it.

He reached out and steadied Seungjae’s swaying shoulders, leaning him back against the chair for support. Then, he shot a glare at the people around the table.

“You guys let him drink this much?”

“Let him? He was the one happily downing it himself.”

It didn’t seem like a lie. Even now, Seungjae had somehow gotten hold of another shot glass and was about to take a sip. Beomchan quickly snatched it away and replaced it with a glass of water.

Seungjae didn’t look happy about it. He propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm, and squinted at Beomchan. Or rather—he was staring at his chest.

What the hell was he looking at?

This was a dangerous person, seriously.

It probably wasn’t intentional. Seungjae had no reason to be deliberately staring, and given how drunk he was, his eyes probably weren’t focusing properly. But still, Beomchan was completely sober, and that gaze was making him feel ridiculously self-conscious. He could feel the heat rising to his face.