By Zephyria “Perhaps because he’s an actor, his aura is certainly different. At first glance, he’s no ordinary young man. Please don’t be too disappointed that we old folks didn’t recognize him. It’s because we know nothing about the entertainment industry.”
Regardless of Jo Seong-hyeon’s inner turmoil, Park Yong-hoon and his gang welcomed Yoon Hye-an as if he were their own grandson.
“Not at all. I’m not widely known by name or face either. It’s an honor just to be able to greet you like this.”
“For a young man, your speech is as proper as your looks. No wonder the Vice President sees you favorably!”
“With two such handsome men side-by-side, the golf course feels like a movie set!”
Having concluded that Yoon Hye-an was ARA’s unofficial new mistress of the house, the old men were busy flattering him for a while.
Lee Hae-sung introduced them as meeting as an investor and an actor, hitting it off despite the age difference. But no one there believed that story at face value. If their ages were similar, they might have thought they were just making friends, but that wasn’t the case.
“Hye-an… Ah, Hye-an has been showing interest in golf lately, so I brought him along today just to show him the atmosphere of the CC.”
Lee Hae-sung, who had called him ‘Hye-an’ so casually, soon corrected himself to ‘Hye-an-ssi’ and continued speaking. But it was clearly an intentional slip. It was clearly meant to show how close they were.
If you wanted it to look like a genuine mistake, at least show some effort by acting flustered, Vice President? Jo Seong-hyeon found it increasingly difficult to manage his increasingly cynical expression.
“It’s great that a young man like Actor Yoon is showing interest in golf. With all this talk of golf becoming more popular, some ridiculous young people are coming into the club and spoiling the atmosphere… someone like Actor Yoon would be most welcome.”
“Oh, absolutely welcome! Meeting like this is such a coincidence, if it’s not too much trouble, could we get Actor Yoon’s autograph?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t have any paper…”
“Here, you can sign my hat. We have to get it from someone who will soon be a famous actor.”
Vice Minister Kang Min-wook took off his golf hat without a moment’s hesitation and offered it. Not to be outdone, CEO Park Yong-hoon took off his glove.
“Actor Yoon, could you sign this glove for me? I’ll keep it and show it off to people every time I come to the course.”
I can’t watch this.
Jo Seong-hyeon clicked his tongue, shaking his shoulders, at the sight of the old men, who hadn’t even known who Yoon Hye-an was, now surrounding him like devoted fans, getting autographs and shaking his hand. He didn’t seem to realize he had just done the exact same thing to Park Yong-hoon’s gang moments before.
Lee Hae-sung, who had stepped back from the sudden fan meeting, watched silently. His gaze, over the old men’s shoulders, turned towards Jo Seong-hyeon.
Jo Seong-hyeon shivered at that calm, serene gaze, which expressed neither mockery nor anger.
That gaze, pretending to be so noble. It seemed to say that no one could disturb his peace, and Jo Seong-hyeon had always disliked Lee Hae-sung’s tranquility.
Now it’s Yoon Hye-an, and before it was Choi Hong-seo. He’s the same kind of guy, enjoying himself with pretty dolls whose faces and bodies he likes, yet acting so pure, then and now. The only difference between you and me is whether you were born the grandson of Chairman Lee Kang-moon or not.
Like Lee Hae-sung, Jo Seong-hyeon had also stepped back from the fan meeting. He placed his hands on the shoulders of the excited old men.
“We’re close to our tee time. It feels like we’ve taken up too much of the Vice President’s time. President, Vice Minister. We should be moving along.”
The old men looked as if the sky were falling, their faces filled with regret.
“Ah… is it that late already? We were just so happy to see him… I hope we weren’t too forward.”
“Not at all. I enjoyed seeing you welcome Hye-an. If we have the chance, we’ll meet again.”
Lee Hae-sung, with his hand on Yoon Hye-an’s shoulder, finally looked at Jo Seong-hyeon and said.
“I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again soon. Don’t you think so, Chairman Jo?”
As if asking, ‘Do you understand what I mean?’, Jo Seong-hyeon clenched his teeth. Before Jo Seong-hyeon could reply, Lee Hae-sung disappeared towards the clubhouse with Yoon Hye-an.
Even as they rode in the cart, the old men continued to chatter excitedly about their meeting with Lee Hae-sung.
“Chairman Jo, you know, if you had a connection with someone like that, you should have said so sooner.”
“He’s just humble. Chairman Jo is truly genuine the more you get to know him.”
At the Vice Minister’s gentle chiding, CEO Park Yong-hoon instead defended Jo Seong-hyeon. Jo Seong-hyeon was no longer just Jo Seong-hyeon. He was Jo Seong-hyeon who could forge a deeper connection with Lee Hae-sung.
Absurdly, this was a title directly bestowed by Lee Hae-sung’s appearance, and if the power of that title held, securing this contract would be a piece of cake.
His hands trembling as he gripped the safety bar of the cart, Jo Seong-hyeon stared intently at the glove on Park Yong-hoon’s hand next to him.
Perhaps because he had lost his memory, or perhaps because of the concept of having lost his memory, the signature Yoon Hye-an had left on CEO Park Yong-hoon’s glove looked completely different from what Jo Seong-hyeon remembered.
Blackmail isn’t just about destroying someone. A promise to help someone rise higher can also be a form of blackmail. And Lee Hae-sung was currently applying both forms of blackmail to Jo Seong-hyeon.
This is truly…
Jo Seong-hyeon felt a surge of anger so intense he wanted to grab a club from his golf bag and smash the cart. But he wasn’t so dull as to be unable to calculate what position to take at this moment.
Clenching his fists so hard his fingernails dug into his palms, Jo Seong-hyeon opened his mouth, which had been shut tight.
“President, just a moment… Please go ahead and play the first hole. I’ll catch up shortly.”
“What are you talking about? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to ask the Vice President if we could have a meal together. If today doesn’t work, perhaps another appointment…”
“Ah, is that so? Then hurry and ask. We can adjust our schedule to match the Vice President’s.”
Jo Seong-hyeon, practically leaping out of the cart, ran back the way he came. He took the escalators several steps at a time, entered the clubhouse lobby, and, panting, searched for Lee Hae-sung.
Lee Hae-sung and Yoon Hye-an were enjoying shopping at the Pro Shop located in the lobby. Lee Hae-sung, holding two hats that were on display, was trying one on Yoon Hye-an. Two or three bodyguards maintained a suitable distance, circling them. Even in casual wear, their posture and demeanor suggested they were bodyguards.
Before he could even catch his breath, Jo Seong-hyeon strode across the lobby towards them.
“Ah, this is fortunate. I was worried because I thought the Vice President had already left.”
Lee Hae-sung, turning at the exaggerated voice, looked unfazed, as if he had expected Jo Seong-hyeon to follow.
“What is it? Why are you running so breathlessly?”
“Earlier, the old men were there… and since we met so suddenly, we couldn’t talk properly. The Saturday we agreed to meet is tomorrow, and I figured you must be in such a hurry that you couldn’t wait even one day, so I rushed here.”
With eyes burning with anger, Jo Seong-hyeon spoke, spitting out each word. Lee Hae-sung offered no reply, only a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.
“Looking at the gift you sent me, it seems you met someone, Vice President.”
“Yes, I met someone.”
“Haha… This is truly… It’s not easy to see a single sad expression on Lee Hae-sung’s face.”
Jo Seong-hyeon put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Then, still with his head bowed, he looked up and glared at Lee Hae-sung.
“Yes, I lost. So, damn it, what do you want me to do?”
Lee Hae-sung, who had been watching Jo Seong-hyeon silently, let out a short sigh, his lips pursed.
“Should I crawl between your legs, Vice President?”
Again, Lee Hae-sung showed no reaction. He took off the hat he had been trying on Yoon Hye-an, handed it and the other hat he was holding to a bodyguard, and asked him to pay. Only then did he pat Jo Seong-hyeon on the shoulder and walk past him with Yoon Hye-an.
“How about crawling between Yoon Hye-an’s legs instead of mine?”
Jo Seong-hyeon whipped his head around, his eyes wide. There was no separate wall or door between the store and the lobby. Jo Seong-hyeon, catching up to them right in front of the store, blocked their path.
“Stop playing word games that don’t suit you and get to the point, Vice President.”
“Why? Can’t you do that?”
“I’d rather take off my clothes and jump off the JS headquarters rooftop than crawl between the legs of a cat I’ve been playing with.”
Jo Seong-hyeon, who had been sneering with a smile, saw a crack in Lee Hae-sung’s face for the first time. Like a machine that creaks from missing lubrication, Lee Hae-sung tilted his head askew, his eyes glinting with a faint madness that went beyond anger.
“Is that really so?”
“……”
“You won’t regret saying that later?”