* * *
Inside, pre-manifestation kids were practicing synchronized group choreography with cheer poms.
Most cheerleaders, even after manifestation, tended to be Omegas or Betas.
He wondered how many of these kids would still be doing this later on.
At the far end of the group was his nephew, noticeably shorter than the other kids.
“Oh~ Jin Iseo’s doing pretty well.”
So that’s why she’d been practicing.
The moves they were teaching weren’t what Sejun had imagined.
Jumping and landing in splits was far more intense than the cheerleading he had in mind.
If someone like Jin Sejun attempted it, his hip joints or cartilage would probably tear.
Not that he’d ever have to do cheerleading, being an Alpha and all.
“If I tried to split my legs 180 degrees, I’d probably turn into a seedless watermelon.”
Although… it’s already a rotting watermelon, huh?
Ha-ha-ha.
Despite his melancholic thoughts, Sejun grew curious.
If there was a junior class, surely there must be a senior one.
Peeking into another practice room, he found what seemed to be adults or nearly adults.
This group was mixed-gender and didn’t use cheer poms. Instead, six people, excluding the instructor, were doing intense push-ups like their lives depended on it. Judging by the atmosphere, it looked like a punishment.
“This is practically Marine Corps boot camp.”
The man supervising the push-ups occasionally adjusted their form.
Dressed in a black short-sleeve shirt and track pants, he was tall, his tied-back hair barely staying in place.
Even from behind, it was obvious his physique was remarkable.
“An Alpha, maybe… Most people with bodies like that and good control are usually Alphas.”
The thought of an Alpha-looking Beta brushing him off crossed Sejun’s mind just as a small hand tugged at his pants.
“Uncle, you came to pick me up?”
“Yeah, your mom and dad are busy, so I came instead.”
“Did you watch me practice?”
“A little. I can’t even split my legs into an A-shape, so that was impressive.”
“You can do it if you practice.”
“Maybe if it were 15 years ago, I’d have had hope….”
As Sejun took his nephew’s hand and started to leave the academy, the door to the room he’d just been spying on opened.
The man in the black short-sleeve shirt walked out, wiping sweat with a towel. In the narrow hallway, Sejun found himself face-to-face with him.
His heart pounded, his pupils dilating in an instant.
“…Kwon Juwan?”
Right, he had mentioned teaching kids some sport similar to Taekwondo.
No wonder the back of his head looked a bit familiar.
Ah, the assistant director of the cheerleading academy my sister-in-law went crazy over because of his broad shoulders.
She always called him such eye candy…
The moment Kwon Juwan heard Jin Sejun’s name, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
That was quite the reaction—rare for someone like him.
Even though he’d just been hit on the back of the head, he found himself annoyed at the familiarity he felt toward Juwan.
Jin Sejun extended his hand, imagining the handsome face in front of him being smashed into tiny pieces like minced hamburger steak.
“I’m Jin Iseo’s uncle. Our last name isn’t exactly common, so you probably didn’t see this coming, huh?”
“Ah… I’m the assistant director here, Kwon Juwan. So, you’re Iseo’s uncle.”
“Wow, we’re practically from the same neighborhood then. Looks like we’ll be seeing each other often.”
Sejun had fully intended to crush Juwan’s hand in the handshake out of sheer irritation.
But as soon as their hands met, Juwan’s hand was unexpectedly cold.
Sejun, without realizing it, found himself warming it up.
“……”
The calloused hand—tough like a twig—flinched before slipping away.
It was a rare sight to see someone looking so clouded, almost as if a storm was brewing inside them.
Sejun couldn’t tell what Juwan was thinking, but it was clear as day that this encounter wasn’t welcome at all.
The small satisfaction Sejun had been enjoying was soon interrupted by his nephew’s question.
“Uncle, why are you suddenly talking like we’re neighbors? Do you know Mr. John? Mr. John, do you know my uncle too?”
What a sharp kid.
There’s no way Sejun could say, ‘Your assistant director got scared after hearing from some Omega that he might go bald. So he went to your dad’s clinic, flirted with me for a bit, and then ran away from a hotel room.’
If the assistant director’s resume had been displayed in the lobby, Sejun would’ve figured it out much sooner.
Instead of diving into the tangled mess of their history, Sejun decided to satisfy his immediate curiosity.
“Mr. John? You use an English name?”
“Ah… Well, it’s because my name, Juwan, sounds like ‘John’ when read quickly… It stuck during my time abroad.”
Juwan awkwardly explained, and while Sejun found it amusing, he had no intention of laughing.
Instead, he pretended to have a grand realization.
“Oh~ so Juwan shortened to John. Got it.”
“If Uncle wasn’t here today, Mr. John would’ve driven me home.”
“Oh, I see. The van!”
Right, he’d mentioned driving the academy van.
At least he wasn’t lying about that.
On the way in, Sejun had spotted the academy’s van—brightly painted in hot pink with glittery sequins and a massive bow.
The words “Blingz Cheerleading” were elegantly emblazoned on the side.
“Honestly, you would’ve looked great driving that van. I saw it earlier—it’s really my style.”
This jerk.
He once drove me around in a sleek luxury sedan, only to leave me stranded, forcing me to take a taxi.
He even promised to pick me up in the academy van and then ghosted me!
“Haha, thank you for the compliment.”
At Juwan’s smooth response, Sejun raised an eyebrow.
A compliment?
If he took that as a compliment, there’s something seriously wrong with his ears or his head.
This wasn’t a meeting between a guardian and an assistant director anymore.
No, this felt more like a masquerade ball between a man trying to escape and another trying to mess with him.
Sejun locked eyes with Juwan, his gaze filled with reproach.
Could an academy assistant director really run an online… site like that?
Surely, Juwan himself knew how unethical that was.
Was he some kind of pedophile, and that’s why he dumped me? Gross.
Even if that wasn’t the case, assuming it was might actually be better for Sejun’s mental health.
As Sejun left the lobby, he glanced at the cheerleading uniforms on display.
The image of Juwan wearing a sparkly bow and shaking pom-poms flashed through his mind.
He must’ve been blinded by infatuation at one point, because somehow, the image didn’t feel ridiculous.
Sejun walked alongside Juwan, who was guiding the kids, and commented playfully, “So, you’ve done cheerleading yourself. You’ve got a cutesy side, huh?”
Before Juwan could respond, Sejun’s nephew, Jin Iseo, interjected fiercely.
“Uncle, I’m sick of your prejudices!”
Prejudices?
Sejun immediately knew the phrase came from his sister-in-law and took a step back.
“Sorry, I told you—I don’t know much about this stuff.”
“Mr. John, you’ve got to teach my uncle cheerleading too.”
“Wait, me? Pfft!”
Despite just being scolded, Sejun couldn’t stop laughing.
The image of Juwan’s oversized bow now appeared atop his own head.
The two men parted ways, pretending not to feel awkward, heading toward their respective cars.
‘Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.’
Sejun noticed Juwan through his side mirror, loading kids into the pink van.
After staring for a moment, he turned to check that his nephew’s seatbelt was secure.
Iseo was already engrossed in his phone, noise-canceling headphones on, watching videos of people in cheerleading outfits.
Knock knock.
Sejun looked back to see Juwan standing by the passenger window, gesturing toward his phone.
The tint made it hard to see his expression, but it seemed he wanted Sejun to check his phone later.
What a joke.
Sejun rolled down the window and mouthed exaggeratedly, ‘This guy only reaches out when it’s convenient for him.’
Juwan didn’t seem to understand, his expression blank.
“…Just get in for a second. Thirty seconds, tops.”
“…Alright.”
Juwan hesitated but got in the car.
Iseo, still absorbed in his phone, paid no attention.
Sejun leaned in close and whispered sharply, “You ghost me after blocking me, and now you want to talk when it suits you?”
“Well…”
“You think I’m an idiot? Are you scared because the parent of one of your students knows your dirty little secret?”
“What secret?”
“The site, dumbass. You even bragged about handling tax issues. Do you think someone like you has the right to teach kids?”
Juwan’s face turned beet red.
* * *
