Chapter 16
****
Do-geon read the look on Jae-yeon's face. He apologized, she accepted, and now what was he doing without leaving?
"I.................. you have anything else to say?"
Jae-yeon asked cautiously after a long silence, and the corners of Do-geon’s eyes twitched slightly.
More to say?
It was a little ridiculous. First she'd acted like she couldn't say more, and now she wanted to kick him out. What was going on in this woman's head?
For some reason, he felt like his pride was being hurt. He had felt similarly before.
Not long ago, he ran into her in the front yard with the chairman. Even then, Jae-yeon acted as if she wasn't interested in him at all.
Someone even followed him around in the background now...................
And for the record, this space belonged to him. His grandfather, who knew his youngest grandchild loved the attic, once told him that he would give it all to him as an inheritance.
Of course, it wasn't technically the attic, but the antiques in it, and he doubted his grandfather would remember that promise. But Do-geon was already in a bad mood.
"I don't know what else to say."
"You’re just trying to get some rest, aren't you?"
The soft voice echoed through the loft, and he looked down at Jae-yeon with a hard stare.
Jae-yeon was silent for a moment, then blinked. A hint of embarrassment and distance flashed across her brown eyes, but only for a moment.
Then she smiled weakly and shook her head. It was a breezy laugh, as if she had nothing to fear.
"Of course not."
Do-geon mocked silently at the predictable reaction. Still, he was better at hiding his emotions than most of the company's jokers.
Jae-yeon sank back into her chair. Do-geon circled around behind her and sat with his arms folded in the elongated armchair at the head of the table.
Jae-yeon continued her work as if his presence didn't bother her much. She picked up another carving knife and asked in a polite tone,
"Are you sure you don't want to guard the chairman?"
"They’ll call me, if it comes to that."
"But if he dies suddenly."
"In that case, should you stay here, Miss Jeong?"
Do-geon tilted his head sharply.
"You’re his girlfriend."
His tone was ambiguous, not quite sarcastic. Jae-yeon replied nonchalantly, chiseling away at a piece of wood. "Still, I guess you’re closer than flesh and blood. I'm an outsider after all, and, well, I'm more.......... than the chairman's lover."
With a snap, the chiseled piece of wood fell onto the desk.
"It's like a piece of art. Useless, but good for self-gratification and showing off."
"..................What do you mean?"
"Literally. Mr Chairman is a collector, and he has an artistic streak, just look at this room."
Jae-yeon spoke blandly, as if stating the obvious.
"But what good is all that art when you're dying?"
"...."
Do-geon feigned an expressionless face, but inside he was a little surprised. Her attitude, defining her position, was cynical. Not like the woman who was in love. He studied her, as if gauging her intentions, then asked bluntly, without judgment.
"Have you decided to drop the pretense of innocence?"
"What do you mean, innocent?"
"I don't think so. That's what I thought."
It wasn't just a guess. Do-geon had clearly witnessed some of her private moments-unfiltered, raw moments.
Jae-yeon's eyes widened at his words. After a few seconds, she let out a short, amused laugh.
"Ahaha, did you think of that?"
"..."
"Well, it might have seemed like it, but.................. it's not something you should think about too deeply at all. We all pretend to be someone to some extent in front of our loved ones."
"I mean, rather than."
"And."
Jae-yeon lowered her eyes and continued carving the wood, speaking quietly.
"It'll all be over soon, anyway."
"...."
"If Mr. Chairman dies, do you think I'll be able to stay here? I'll be kicked out in a heartbeat, so don't bother with me."
Her tone was casual, but for some reason it sounded like a warning not to cross the line any further-or, oddly enough, like a plea.
Snap. Snap. The sound of wood chopping filled the room in an unnerving way. Do-geon crossed his arms and watched her sideways, wordlessly. Her sculpturally curved face was bathed in yellow light. Her lowered lashes cast long shadows across the bridge of her nose. As he had said, she was a work of art.
Do-geon suddenly spoke up.
"As you say, if you’re kicked out of here after Mr. Chairman dies."
The hand that had been delicately scraping the surface of the wood chip paused.
"What are you going to do?"
"..................do what?"
"You said it yourself. Are you going to keep seeing Han Do-seok, or are you going to find another man?"
Despite the obvious sarcasm, Jae-yeon only laughed, and Do-geon narrowed his eyes faintly. The woman had no self-respect.
"Well................"
Jae-yeon replied, not taking her eyes off the wood chipper she was working on.
"I've never thought about it."
Never, she added in a small voice.
That was the end of the conversation; neither he nor she spoke further.
Do-geon tried to get up from his seat, but for some reason he couldn't move. Maybe he really was at the end of his rope.
He watched Jae-yeon carve the wood, then slowly closed his eyes.
Snap, snap, snap. The sound of the wood being sliced gently caressed his ears, and he felt the unpleasant thoughts fall away with it.
It wasn't bad. At least this sounded.
***
Han Dong-jae was proud of his son (Do-geon), who was called a prodigy, and rightly so. Han Dong-jae himself was a brilliant mind and a perfectionist enough to be considered as his successor even though he was the third son.
In fact, the incident may have tilted Chairman Han's mind more toward Dong-jae. Barring any major upheaval, the next succession would be direct anyway.
Han Dong-jae deliberately exposed his son (Do-geon) to the media. With an IQ of 166, he was admitted early to a prestigious middle school, won a gold medal at the International
International Olympiad, and winning a gold medal.
All of Do-geon’s schedules were controlled by his father. His room didn't even have a door. His father had taken it off long ago.
If there's no reason to hide, there's no need to hide. That was his father's way of thinking. He didn't fit in at junior high school, which he started five years early, but he couldn't drop out with the media already paying attention.
The attic of the main building was the only place he could breathe.
The main building was entirely under the jurisdiction of Chairman Han, and Chairman Han was the only thing in the world that Dong-jae was afraid of. When he told him that he had met his grandfather in the main building, he didn't say anything.
Do-geon used to build spaceships, robots, ships, and other things with old objects in the attic. He was quite interested and talented in building things with his hands.
The toys he built with his own hands were the best things he had.
Time passed. By the time he graduated from middle school, a media outlet reported on his private consultant and tutoring, calling him a "manufactured prodigy.”
The article, which concluded with the issue of educational inequality based on parents' socioeconomic backgrounds, caused quite a stir.
Han Dong-jae, who read the article, agreed. He even called someone and yelled at them, saying that no social reporter would touch Daejin.
Then, in the snowy winter, he and his wife were killed in a car accident on the road. Do-geon, who was in the backseat, was the only survivor.
After the accident, Do-geon suffered from selective silence. Doctors diagnosed it as a symptom of PTSD from the accident.
But in fact, he didn't feel traumatized by the accident itself. He wasn't sad about his parents' death either. He was just tired of everything.
Do-geon spent a long time shutting himself off from the world. The chairman allowed his youngest grandson, who had lost his parents in one day, to seek solace in the attic.
As the years passed and the seasons changed, Do-geon’s existence and Han Dong-jae’s death gradually faded from the public eye.
That year, Do-geon gave up on his father's plans to attend high school. He went to the United States and enrolled in a prestigious prep school. After graduating from the UPenn Wharton School, landing a job at the world's largest PEF, and founding IMK, he built the perfect life.
It wasn't what he expected, but it was a perfect life nonetheless, and he was happy enough with it. The memories were old, and as old as time itself.
But always one layer below the surface, slowly pushing up....................
"Just because something is old doesn't mean it's worn out."
Do-geon opened his eyes.
***
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