Chapter 54: An Unexpected Setup

As instructed by Choi Young Gil, I donned a suit—rare even for work—and arrived at B Hotel twenty minutes early, already in a foul mood about wasting a Saturday evening. But as 7 p.m. approached, no one showed up. Uneasy, I called Father.

“Isn’t it B Hotel at 7? Did the place change? No one’s here… Where are you?”

He cleared his throat, sounding slightly flustered.

<…On my way. Wait.>

What? I frowned at the disconnected call. Were they planning a surprise party? I checked if it was my birthday—it wasn’t.

Twenty more minutes passed. No one. Adults don’t usually flake on plans like this without a call.

Should I just leave?

As if I have time to waste. Grumbling, I opened a webtoon on my phone. Then, the click-clack of heels approached, followed by a strong whiff of perfume.

“…Choi Seung Hyun?”

Startled, I looked up. A woman with long, straight hair stared at me. Without waiting for a reply, she tossed her small black bag on the opposite seat and sat down. Her burgundy coat revealed a white blouse and dark skinny jeans—a stark contrast to my formal suit. She casually ordered two coffees, leaned back, crossed her legs, and said boredly.

“Been a while, huh?”

I was thrown. I didn’t know I had a female friend this chummy. Worse, she felt familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Where had I seen her? Her cat-like eyes narrowed.

“What’s with the staring? I didn’t want to come either. Got tricked by my grandfather.”

Tricked by her grandfather…

“Chairman Joo?”

“Yup.”

Chills ran down my spine. This was Ju Ria? The one I studied with in the States? I’d been relieved to miss her at Haewon Gallery, but now here she was in a far more awkward setting. Back then, the crowd buffered things. Now, it was just us in a quiet lounge, and with no memories, I couldn’t even reminisce. She stared with big eyes and blurted out.

“You seem different. Heard about your memory loss—is it real?”

No filter, huh? But her bluntness made it easier. I nodded.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t really remember you. Especially stuff from the States.”

Because it wasn’t in the novel. She flipped her long hair back.

“Wow, it’s real. But…”

She scanned me, then said lightly.

“You don’t need those memories. You’re better now.”

“…Thanks.”

I checked my phone—7:30, still no one. What the hell? She glanced at me.

“Waiting for the adults? They’re not coming.”

“Why?”

“They wanted us to meet. I only found out just now.”

“…Why?”

“Matchmaking. A blind date, basically.”

I burned my tongue on my coffee. A what?! No wonder Choi Young Gil was stammering and gauging me. I hadn’t imagined this plot twist. What a useless man. Fury and betrayal surged. I mentally flipped through the novel—did Choi Seung Hyun marry? Probably not detailed; a side character’s marriage wasn’t plot-relevant.

Ju Ria, amused by my changing expressions, crossed her arms.

“Weird. Why’s Choi Seung Hyun acting like he hates this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You chased me back in school.”

“What?”

Good thing I wasn’t drinking, or I’d have sprayed her. My hands shook.

“For real?”

“Why would I lie? I wasn’t thrilled either.”

“If you’re making this up because I said I lost my memory…”

She snorted.

“You said my art expressed the same loneliness you felt. That my bright colors hid darkness. Something about human anguish and solitude.”

“…”

“I told you I wasn’t lonely, just happy under New York’s sun. You were shocked. Don’t remember?”

This conversation was the real shock. I was grateful for my memory loss—I’d have jumped out a window otherwise. She shrugged.

“You were clingy. Next day, you said my tough act didn’t hide my fragile soul, told me to be honest. You even teared up, saying your ‘mature mentality’ matched me, an older woman. A one-year gap, and you thought that was deep. Hilarious.”

My face paled with every word. The novel’s pompous Choi Seung Hyun would totally say that. Her calm recounting made it more humiliating. My—or rather, his—dark past. Hearing it from her made me want to die. That guy talked to his crush like that? I knew he was a socially inept sociopath, but this was next-level.

Sweating, I avoided her gaze, muttering.

“…Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was fun. Who hears stuff like that sober? I still get laughs at bars retelling it. My friends from back then ask about you.”

“…Really sorry.”

Apologizing for things I didn’t do was supposed to be just for Do Yoon. But facing another of Choi Seung Hyun’s victims brought back shame and rage. Why couldn’t that guy do one thing right?

Dazed, I mumbled.

“If Chairman Joo knew you… didn’t like me, he wouldn’t have set this up.”

“Forget it. Keep calling me noona like you used to.”

So cool. Is this an artist-who-studied-in-America vibe?

“He’d have made me come anyway. Once Grandfather decides, he sees it through. Probably like your family.”

“…What did he like about me?”

“You tell me. What’d you talk about?”

“Barely anything. Less than thirty minutes.”

“I thought he had dementia when he kept saying you’re a good guy.”

That bad, huh? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She stirred her coffee with a teaspoon.

“Well, our families are similar, same age, same school. Us meeting isn’t weird.”

“There are others like that.”

“Sure, but Haewon’s ads in our papers are unmatched.”

“…”

“Haewon benefits from ties to a major media outlet too.”

I was speechless. The situation was shocking, but her calm acceptance of being roped into this, her understanding of corporate games, doubled my confusion. Only a year older, yet she seemed seasoned at surprise setups. Was I the only one feeling awkward?

I’d only worried about Do Yoon and Seung Hee, but now a drama-like plot was hitting me, leaving my mind blank.