Chapter 20
Yang stepped out of the elevator with his secretary, his usual commanding presence still intact – just a little dulled around the edges.
He moved quickly, barking quiet instructions as he walked down the hall.
Not far off, Minseo was pressed against the wall, hiding behind a corner like a spy in a drama.
His eyes locked on Yang as if willing him to stop and talk.
Just as Minseo was about to step out, a hand grabbed the back of his hoodie and yanked him back.
“What the – Steve!” Minseo hissed as he stumbled.
Steve pulled him around the corner and crossed his arms.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking what you’re doing? You’ve been tailing the CEO since yesterday.”
Minseo looked away, caught. “I wasn’t-”
Steve raised a brow.
Minseo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just… wanted to ask him if there’s any progress. About Jaeyel. I wanted to know if they’re actually doing something…”
Steve stared at him for a moment, then exhaled slowly, like he’d been expecting that answer. “I figured.”
He softened, his tone more serious now.
“Min, of course they’re doing something. Out of everyone in this building, he’s the one who’d never stop looking.”
Minseo kept his gaze down, quiet.
“You know that,” Steve added, his voice firmer. “You’ve seen it. You know how he… how much he cares about Jaeyel.”
Minseo bit his lip, then finally nodded.
“Look at him,” Steve said, tilting his chin in Yang’s direction.
Minseo peeked around the corner. Yang was still moving down the hall, but even from here, it was obvious – he looked rough.
Shirt wrinkled. Tie crooked. Dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t properly slept in weeks.
He looked thinner. Like something had been carved out of him.
Minseo’s heart sank. “I know he’s working hard,” he whispered. “I just wanted to hear something. Anything. Even a small lead…”
Steve didn’t say anything at first. Then he gave Minseo’s shoulder a firm squeeze.
“Then let’s work hard too. So when Jaeyel comes back…” Steve grinned. “We’ll outshine him.”
Minseo snorted. “As if. You think you can beat Jaeyel at vocals?”
Steve gasped. “I meant as a group, you punk! Not solo!”
They both chuckled, and some of the heaviness lifted for a moment.
Steve nudged him. “Now come on, stalker. Let’s get out of here before security thinks you’re a threat.”
Minseo rolled his eyes but followed. “I wasn’t stalking. It was… strategic monitoring.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve laughed. “Tell that to HR.”
Their voices carried down the hall, fading as they walked away.
…
The office was quiet except for the scratch of a pen across paper.
The city lights bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind Yang, casting long shadows across his desk.
He looked calm – cold, focused – but the stack of finished work and the dark circles under his eyes told a different story.
His secretary stood near the door, holding a tablet to his chest like a shield.
“…Sir,” he started, voice low, cautious. “Are you really going?”
Yang didn’t look up. Just nodded, like it wasn’t even a question.
The secretary shifted on his feet. “At least… bring a bodyguard with you, Sir…”
No reaction.
There wasn’t a need for words.
The past several days had been a blur – calls to contacts, dragging the search and rescue team through rural roads and dense woods, all following the vague but promising lead Yin had dropped.
People in some small, out-of-the-way town claimed they’d seen someone who looked like Jaeyel.
That was enough.
Yang had been pushing to clear his workload ever since.
And now that the last piece of paperwork was done…
He set down his pen. Stood up. Straightened his coat.
“Take care of the things here,” he said quietly, already halfway to the door.
The secretary could only nod as he watched the CEO disappear into the hallway.
Then, finally alone in the office, he let out a long, weary sigh.
“Please find him already…” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple. “I swear, once this kid’s back, I’m filing for early retirement.”
He shuffled over to the desk and began tidying up the chaos Yang left behind.
“I didn’t sign up for this level of BL drama.”
…
The quiet of the back corridor was a welcome contrast to the bustling hospital floor.
Jaeyel sat on a worn bench, sleeves half-rolled, his body leaning slightly forward as he rested his elbows on his knees.
His eyes were distant, focused on nothing. He wasn’t doing much – just existing in the stillness.
The low rumble of wheels approached, accompanied by frustrated muttering.
Ric appeared, dragging a clunky portable X-ray machine that clearly had no intention of cooperating. Sweat clung to his neck, and his jaw was tight with annoyance.
“Seriously? You get paid to design hospital equipment and this is what you come up with?” he growled at the machine, yanking it around a tight corner.
His eyes flicked to the side – and landed on Jaeyel. “You again.”
Jaeyel opened one eye, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just resting. You look like you’re about to fight that thing.”
Ric scoffed, dragging the machine past him with more force than necessary. “I might, if it keeps getting caught on every damn corner.”
Jaeyel chuckled, sitting up straighter. “Didn’t know you worked here.”
“Well, I don’t.” Ric paused, then added begrudgingly, “It’s just part-time. Temporary. I just move things.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” Jaeyel tilted his head. “You have the ‘I move things’ energy.”
Ric shot him a look. “You trying to be funny?”
“Just saying,” Jaeyel said innocently.
Ric leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, sweat-darkened shirt clinging to his chest.
“Tch. You’re not even supposed to be moving around this much.”
JL: “I’m sitting.”
Ric: “You’re not resting.”
Jaeyel exhaled softly through his nose. “Didn’t realize you were on recovery patrol now.”
Ric didn’t answer.
Instead, he pulled a half-squashed protein bar out of his pocket and threw it onto the bench beside Jaeyel.
“Eat something. Don’t be useless.”
Jaeyel stared at the bar, then quietly said, “You always carry snacks?”
Ric shrugged. “Only when I know I’ll run into people who don’t take care of themselves.”
“…Right.” A soft pause. “Thanks.”
Ric rubbed the back of his neck. “Can’t have you passing out in the middle of the hallway. That’s my job now, apparently.”
“I’ll try not to ruin your reputation,” Jaeyel said, unwrapping the bar slowly.
“Too late for that,” Ric muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
They stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the quiet hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional distant footstep.
Ric spoke again after a beat. “You gonna be here a while?”
“I don’t know,” Jaeyel admitted. “Depends on… a lot.”
Ric nodded.
“Well, when I’m done, I’ll walk you back.”
Jaeyel looked up, a little surprised. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” Ric replied, already turning to leave. “But I will.”
And with that, he disappeared around the corner.
Left alone, Jaeyel sat quietly on the bench, chewing slowly, staring at nothing in particular.
He didn’t say it out loud, but something in his chest ached a little less than it did before.
…
The afternoon sun was starting to mellow, casting soft shadows across the quiet stretch of road a good walk away from the hospital.
The old woman adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she stepped out of a small grocery store tucked between buildings, squinting against the light.
She had finished her shift a while ago and decided to grab a few things before heading home.
Her legs ached – not from fatigue alone, but from the kind of tiredness that builds over years of routines and long days.
She walked slowly along the sidewalk, plastic bag swinging gently from her hand, her thoughts half on what to cook for dinner, half on the old man waiting back at her house.
A few blocks down, the low purr of an engine broke the stillness.
A black car rolled to a sudden stop near a group of people gathered on the side of the road, just ahead.
It was too polished for a place like this, too purposeful. It didn’t belong here.
The old woman slowed her steps, glancing toward the scene.
The door opened, and a man stepped out. He didn’t need to say anything to draw attention.
Tall, serious, the kind of presence that said he wouldn’t be easy to turn away from.
Yang.
He didn’t notice the old woman.
His eyes were locked on the group in front of him, one of the team already holding up a photo and asking tight, clipped questions.
She paused, not out of suspicion – just curiosity.
Something in his expression, the weight he carried without words, struck her.
He looked like someone looking for something that mattered more than anything else.
And somehow, without knowing why, she felt a chill run through her.
