As soon as Se-hyeon met up with his friends, he started drinking.

He usually avoided alcohol — whenever he drank, his mood would plummet. But tonight, he couldn’t stop himself.

Since returning to Korea, work had been one crisis after another. Problems kept cropping up before he’d had a chance to understand how the company worked. Although he managed to resolve most of them, the sleepless nights had taken their toll.

But the real reason his mood was spiralling…

His mother’s memorial service was approaching.

While his mother was still alive and already terminally ill with barely any time left, his father had started an affair. The moment she died, as if he had been waiting for it, he brought Yang Jin-hee and her child into their home, taking over the family as if nothing had happened.

He loathed that woman, but he hated his father even more.

He couldn’t forgive either of them.

Even after twenty years, just thinking about it made his blood boil.

He had no idea how to make it stop.

“Are you OK, man?”

Kyeong-jin asked, eyeing him carefully as he sat opposite him.

Se-hyeon had never suggested going out for drinks before, so the fact that he had called them tonight was highly suspicious.

Now he was downing shots of liquor as if he’d been craving them.

“What do you mean, something’s up? This guy handles every problem like it’s nothing.”

Jun-young, seated next to Se-hyeon, answered with a lazy grin.

Se-hyeon said nothing. He simply reached for the bottle again.

At that, Jun-young swiped the bottle from his hand.

“Come on, man. Let me pour you a drink. Don’t drink alone as if it’s some kind of curse.”

Jun-young poured a generous amount of whisky into a crystal glass. Se-hyeon raised the glass halfway to his lips and took a deep swig.

If only he could drink himself into unconsciousness—
That would’ve been nice.
But this damnable insomnia had only worsened since the accident at university.

Nothing worked, not even sleeping pills.

“Hoo…”

A long sigh escaped Se-hyeon’s lips.

His mood hadn’t improved at all. He already regretted drinking at all.

He should have gone to the gym instead.

At least when he pushed his body to its limits, the noise in his head would quiet down.

And then—

“If Oppa is drinking, what should his pretty baby do?”

Jun-young asked playfully, with one arm slung around the woman seated snugly at his side.

The girl giggled and snuggled closer to him, swaying her shoulders flirtatiously.

“What do you like, oppa?” Cheese? Chocolate?”

“He likes alcohol. And lips.”

Jun-young smirked and leaned in.

“Ugh, stop it—you’re too much!”

The woman squealed and burst into high-pitched laughter.

The grating sound of her giggles made Se-hyeon slowly close his eyes and let out another deep, weary breath.

‘Goddamn it.’

He’d invited them out for a drink to unwind.

And yet, here they were, throwing themselves at women as though they had lost their minds.

Drinking alone sounded far more appealing at this point.

Se-hyeon swallowed the rest of his whisky in one gulp, then put his glass down on the table with a loud clatter.

Without hesitating, he stood up.

“Jun-young.”

He walked over and leaned in close, muttering quietly into her ear.

“Cut it out. I heard you’re getting married soon.”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing this—when else am I ever going to have fun? She nags me nonstop as it is. It’s draining.”

With a dramatic sigh, he waved it off.

“You know how it is before marriage—one last wild night.”

One by one, the friends in their group had reached what was considered the ‘marriageable age’.

Some ended things with the women they were seeing.

Others didn’t. They just kept things hidden.

“Everyone has a mistress.”

They’d say it like it was nothing—like it was just normal now. It had become so routine. But watching them tonight, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his own father.

And that made his stomach turn. He didn’t even bother replying. He just turned to leave.

Kyung-jin raised his head as Se-hyeon passed.

“What? You’re leaving already, Woo Se-hyeon?”

“Yeah, I’m out.”

He gave Kyung-jin a quick pat on the shoulder as he passed, then left.

Perhaps it was because he had drunk too much on an empty stomach.

Then again, perhaps it was because it had been such a long time since his last drink.

Either way, the hallway spun slightly as he walked.

As the venue was private and exclusive, the corridors were quiet, with hardly anyone around.

Only the occasional staff member passed by, bowing politely in his direction.

“Have the car brought around.”

Se-hyeon slowly walked, phone in hand, issuing instructions to Tae-hoon.

Some cold air might help clear his head, but the route to the car park felt like a maze.

“Of course Kang Jun-young would choose a place like this.”

He muttered to himself, his voice laced with irritation. Just then, a commotion echoed from the far end of the hallway.

As he rounded the corner, he slowed his steps — only to be met with a tense scene: a man and a woman locked in a struggle.

“If you’re working here, then work! What’s all this ‘not that kind of job’ crap?”

“I need to get back to the kitchen. I told you, that’s not what I do!”

The visibly pale woman twisted her wrist, trying to wrench it free from the man’s grip.

But he was too strong. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn’t shake him off.

He had no intention of letting go.

He was a grey-haired alcoholic in his sixties with a bald spot that shone in the light. His belly was round and distended, probably due to years of heavy drinking.

‘Disgusting.’

Se-hyeon didn’t want to brush shoulders with him, let alone talk to him. She picked up her pace, moving to pass him without saying a word.

“There’s no such thing as that kind of job, sweetheart. Oppa will make sure you have fun tonight. Just come along and have a drink.”

“Let go of me! Now, please—”

“You said you were going to the kitchen, but here you are loitering in the hallway. Come on, come on! Let’s go and have some fun with Oppa. I’ll pay you well.”

“F*ck.”

The vile voice echoing in his ears caused Se-hyeon to pause.

He spun around to face the man dragging a woman down the corridor. The drunk man tried to sidestep him, but Se-hyeon moved again to block his way.

Noticing the interference, the man lifted his bleary eyes and glared at Se-hyeon.

“What the hell are you doing loitering in front of me? Get lost, will you?”

“That hand — let go before you open your mouth.”

Se-hyeon flicked his chin at the filthy fingers clamped around the woman’s wrist. The man snorted and dismissed him with a lazy wave.

“Mind your own business and keep moving.”

Se-hyeon had barely noticed him in passing, but up close, he recognised the face: Vice President Choi Sang-tak of Dong-il Trading. Having recently returned from overseas, Choi clearly hadn’t recognised Se-hyeon yet.

‘Great. Of all the useless faces to remember.’

Se-hyeon thought, annoyance flashing across his own.

“Vice President Choi Sang-tak.”

At the sudden mention of his name, Choi’s pupils quaked.

“How about I spread a rumor that you drag random women into private rooms?”

“Y-you—who the hell are you?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Se-hyeon stepped in and pried Choi Sang-tak’s hand off the woman’s wrist, twisting it firmly. A sharp cry erupted from the man.

“Is it really that hard to act your age and keep your fun a little more refined?”

Se-hyeon gently pushed Choi’s wrist, causing him to stumble backwards and crumple helplessly onto the marble floor.

The woman stood rooted to the spot, pale as a sheet and with her hands covering her mouth. She was pressed against the wall.

“You bastard!”

Choi scrambled to his feet and pointed angrily at Se-hyeon, but he lost his footing again and fell to the ground.

Crawling now, he moved away as quickly as he could, disappearing down the hall with surprising speed.

Se-hyeon frowned, watching the man vanish.

Unbelievable. That bulk moved fast.

“Thank you…”

The woman, who was still trembling against the wall, finally exhaled and bowed deeply, bending her upper body to form a perfect right angle.

Se-hyeon glanced at her from head to toe, raised his hand slightly in acknowledgement, then turned to leave.

He hadn’t gone more than a few steps before something made him stop.

‘Strange…’

There was something familiar about her.

A faint sense of déjà vu tugged at the edge of his thoughts. Se-hyeon tilted his head, trying to place it. But no matter how far he searched his memory, he came up empty.

‘Just great. I can remember the face of a bastard like Choi Sang-tak… and not this one?’

He shook his head and resumed walking—only to pause again.

“……”

Then Se-hyeon slowly turned around.

Had her skin always been that pale? Or had it turned completely white from shock?

She stared at him with wide eyes, her face as colourless as flour.

His gaze swept over her from head to toe.

Her slender wrist was red and slightly swollen where he had gripped her so tightly.

She wore a simple black sweatshirt, jeans, and an old pair of trainers.

Just as she’d said earlier, she didn’t look like someone who worked in a place like this.

Tucked haphazardly into the back pocket of her jeans was a pair of pink rubber gloves.

‘Would it be too clichéd to ask, ‘Have we met before?’

It would sound like a sleazy pick-up line. As if he were trying something.

A soft scoff slipped from his lips. He thought it was absurd that he’d looked her over so quickly, as if sizing her up.

She looked so familiar. Just as he found himself staring at her again, trying to place her, his phone buzzed in his coat pocket.

He pulled it out, raised it to his ear and answered.

“Executive Director, we’ve arrived. Where are you? Would you like me to come and find you?”

It was Tae-hoon, responding to the message Se-hyeon had sent earlier.

Still holding the phone to his ear, Se-hyeon hesitated for a moment. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

“I’ll be right there.”

He told himself it was nothing — just someone he’d passed by before.

Nothing worth thinking twice about.