Chapter 58: Fractures and Drunken Truths

Seung Hee sounded baffled.

<Why are you thanking me? You two are so weird.>

I got sheepish.

“What’s weird? We just get along.”

<…Whatever. When Father brought him in, you threw a fit. Life’s unpredictable.>

“That was ages ago.”

<Exactly why it’s wild.>

She hesitated, then continued.

<You’re way better than when you snarled at him constantly. I’m not his fan either, but no need to fight.>

Her words caught me off guard, leaving me speechless. Embarrassed, she rushed to end the call.

I chuckled at the dead phone. It hit me how close I’d gotten to Seung Hee, not just Do Yoon. Reflecting on our slowly improving sibling bond, I kept thinking a happy ending might be possible. Effort pays off, right?

“…Gotta work hard too.”

I steeled myself anew.

But despite my resolve, work became nearly impossible. The family mocked my refusal to meet Ju Ria by shoving blind dates at me twice a week. Worse, they weren’t subtle anymore—no coaxing, just blatant setups.

When I ignored their calls, Manager Jo, on their orders, barged into our house, thrusting photos of candidates at me. When I avoided him, he waited outside my office. Total stalker vibes.

The candidates were unreal—corporate heirs, congressmen’s daughters, ministers’ kids, military brass, legal elites. It was like Grandfather was launching a marriage agency. Each one was strategically picked to benefit Haewon’s future ventures. I snapped.

“Stop this!”

“Nobody’s saying marry. Just meet them.”

Every adult gave the same response.

But I hit my limit when they pushed Han Sung Group’s daughter. I still remembered her eldest brother ruining my interview, and their youngest bullied Do Yoon in high school. When Ju Ria said her grandfather had dementia, I thought it was harsh—now I got it. If this was to torment me, it was wildly successful. If they genuinely thought this was fine, they all needed mental evaluations.

Furious, I called Grandfather, yelling he should marry her himself. I got an earful. Later, Seung Hee video-called, clapping with a serious face.

Days later, exhausted, I sat in Haewon Hotel’s first-floor café, tearing at my hair. Seung Hee, legs crossed, looked at me with pity. I asked.

“Do you deal with this too?”

“…Sometimes.”

I gasped. She shrugged.

“Why so shocked? You’re getting it a lot now.”

“I’m dying here. I just wanted our family to be harmonious, but if they’re uniting for this, I’d rather we all stayed distant.”

Hotel staff passed, bowing to Seung Hee. I’d suspected since she gave me the Jeju tickets, but Haewon Trading recently acquired a huge chunk of the hotel’s stock, and internal reshuffles were coming. Noticing my gaze, she cleared her throat awkwardly. I teased.

“I hope you become chairman.”

“…!?”

“And marry Ju Ria.”

She snorted, laughing.

“Sadly, I’m not her type.”

She didn’t look sad, but the tension eased. I sighed deeply.

“Save me. How do I stop this?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“I’m only twenty-eight. Who marries this young nowadays?”

She scoffed.

“Age isn’t the issue. Haewon needs a media ally, and they need us. Your marriage announcement would spike stock prices.”

Her matter-of-fact tone twisted my gut. I grimaced, and she asked.

“You really not into Ria?”

“Don’t bring up the past.”

I shut down the topic. That confession I didn’t make still infuriated me. She got serious.

“Ria’s honestly out of your league.”

“True, but still no.”

The real issue wasn’t Ju Ria or the family’s power plays. I’d survived hellish film sets as an assistant director—enduring rich folks’ schemes was manageable. My real worry was Do Yoon.

He grew gloomier with every blind date I was pushed into. I knew he wasn’t mad at me, but after Seung Hee’s words, I felt guilty for making him feel left out. I hated seeing his bright, sunflower-like spirit wither into a drooping ivy in the shade.

His hours got later too. Making friends is great, but even I could tell it wasn’t the reason. Seung Hee spoke.

“If I were you, I’d play along with the adults.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Or treat it like a networking gig. Meet people, make connections.”

I gaped.

“Is that why you go?”

“Can’t say it’s not. We’ll cross paths in business anyway, so meeting them helps gauge who they are.”

Seung Hee was ruthlessly efficient, mining blind dates for intel. Our brains were wired differently. As a small-time everyman, this world felt alien again.

After dinner with Seung Hee, Do Yoon still wasn’t home. It was the weekend, so late was fine, but last year he’d come home like clockwork to study. His absence made me uneasy. As I debated calling, Yoo Hyung Joo rang.

“Hyung Joo, what’s up this late?”

<Sorry, hyung. Do Yoon’s drunk and passed out. Can you bring the car? I’ll send the address.>

“What?”

I grabbed random clothes and bolted. Do Yoon drunk and out cold? Unheard of. The bar was a thirty-minute drive, a cheap spot for college kids. Past midnight, I found Do Yoon in a gray hoodie and denim jacket, slumped over a table, barely conscious.

They’d barely touched the snacks, but there were five soju bottles and three beers. Hyung Joo, looking fine, likely drank the beer—Do Yoon was drowning in soju. Shocked, I asked Hyung Joo.

“What happened? Why’d he drink like this?”

Hearing me, Do Yoon stirred like a zombie, half-opening his eyes and grinning.

“Oh? Hyung.”

“Get up, Choi Do Yoon.”

I slid my arm under his, trying to lift him. Drunk and limp, he was heavy, leaning into me like a shadow, clinging.

“…I hate you, hyung. Hate you.”

The alcohol reek was suffocating.

How much did he drink?! Who corrupted my kid?!