* * *
When I opened my eyes, Christmas had passed. When I came to my senses, it was the contract day.
Standing behind the CEO, I licked my dry lips while looking at Cha Chiyeon, who was sitting across from me.
However, it didn’t help, and I felt increasingly uneasy.
Unlike usual, Cha Chiyeon was not in a tracksuit with his hair loosely tied but in a neat and tidy suit with his hair neatly down. his hair shone as if he had secretly visited a salon.
To describe my feelings, seeing Cha Chiyeon felt like being an ordinary person cast in an unscripted reality show.
Having a script would have been a relief, but the room was filled with tension that pressed down on me mercilessly.
In that moment, the CEO’s voice, mixed with a wry laugh, broke the silence, and I couldn’t shake off my suffocating feeling.
“So, this is the condition you put forward.”
The amount written on the yellow memo pad showed no sincerity and seemed excessive even to me.
Despite being a negotiation involving money, Cha Chiyeon behaved like an empty shell, only his outfit giving a semblance of formality. She crossed her legs and slightly tilted her head, looking more like a thug here to collect a debt than someone negotiating a contract.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to accept it.”
Her tone was polite, but her voice was brash. Cha Chiyeon’s insolent attitude suggested she knew the CEO would accept the deal. The CEO, who had pushed the memo pad aside, leaned back in his chair and began scrutinizing Cha Chiyeon.
“Isn’t this too much for an amateur model to ask for?”
The informal speech indicated that the CEO was quite irritated. Cha Chiyeon’s demeanor seemed to have rubbed him the wrong way.
I watched the two of them anxiously, fearing the CEO’s nasty temper might erupt.
Oh, Chiyeon. Please, just let it go.
Knowing my anxious thoughts, Cha Chiyeon responded calmly to the CEO’s question.
“My model is very money-driven. he won’t move unless it’s about money.”
Cha Chiyeon, looking at the white stack of papers on the table, took a sip of tea.
Then, she glanced briefly at me behind the CEO. Fortunately, the CEO was deep in thought, his eyes half-closed, and didn’t notice Cha Chiyeon’s action.
“It sounds like he’d do anything for money.”
“…Probably.”
Trying to hide her changing expression, Cha Chiyeon deliberately lifted her teacup. Of course, he was right.
Why else would he be doing this if not for money? I rolled my eyes and bowed my head slightly, avoiding making eye contact with Cha Chiyeon.
“Fine. I’ll accept it. But there are two conditions.”
The CEO, who had lightly crumpled the post-it Cha Chiyeon had handed over and tossed it into a corner trash bin, tapped the desk with his fingertips, wearing his usual nasty smile.
“The contract will be made directly with the party involved. I need to see where my money is going with my own eyes. I can’t just give it to a ghost.”
“And the other?”
“The contract will be conducted one-on-one.”
“My model doesn’t sell his body.”
Cha Chiyeon’s voice, filled with annoyance, made the CEO raise an eyebrow. Sh looked as if she’d heard something truly unpleasant.
“I’m not so depraved as to sleep with someone I don’t even know. It’s just a process to confirm if she’s suitable for the job. If you don’t like it, leave.”
At the quietly spoken words, I unconsciously held my breath.
I really wanted the money, but… a one-on-one was a bit risky. I bit my lip, but before I could fully process my thoughts, Cha Chiyeon spoke up.
“I’ll inform the model in advance. Please contact us on a convenient date. Then we’ll consider the amount agreed upon.”
It was difficult for me to cope with his unilateral decision. I opened my mouth but looked desperately at Cha Chiyeon, hoping she would change her mind. Ignoring my urgent signal, she straightened her clothes and stood up without looking at me.
Oh, it’s over.
When Cha Chiyeon left, the room was filled with silence. I raised my hand to feel the place where the bite mark was.
Though I had put a bandage on it, the pain inside remained. Only then did I realize that this was not a dream but reality.
“CEO.”
“What?”
“How about looking for another model?”
“Why? We’re right before the contract. There’s nothing wrong with seeing his face before making a decision.”
The more I watched CEO Han speak so nonchalantly, the more my insides churned.
The model was right behind him, and I wanted to run away immediately, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
Swallowing my words, I steadied my trembling lips and forced out a response.
“……Understood.”
After all, the one who pays is the master, and the one who receives is the servant. And I was thoroughly the servant.
The day passed in such a whirlwind that I barely knew how I managed to finish work. CEO Han’s schedule ended with a 4 PM meeting, and the remaining minor tasks were manageable within the allotted time.
Thanks to that, the entire secretarial team could leave right at 6 PM. Except for me. I didn’t leave until around 9 PM, slightly later than usual.
“When did the CEO say we’d meet again…?”
I think he said three days later. Lying on the sofa and retracing the day’s events, I covered my eyes with my arm and sighed. I’ve sighed more in the past week than I have in the past eight years.
“Life keeps getting tangled up…”
My family of three turned into a family of two in less than ten years. When I was exactly ten years old, my mother disappeared from our home.
It was like he evaporated. Without a trace, he vanished, and even at that young age, I thought, “Mom has left.”
Mom was always a bit detached, like he could float away at any moment. The faint fishy smell that lingered in my hazy memories was a scent I still couldn’t place.
So, when he disappeared, my indifferent reaction was probably because of that, barely leaving an impression.
Around that time, we moved from a spacious three-bedroom apartment to a rooftop single-room. My mother’s absence naturally turned us into a single-parent family.
Whether it was due to the pain of a broken heart or something else, my father quit his decent job.
I learned much later that my father had debt. Several hundred million won. I was curious about how he could accumulate such debt, but to loan sharks, interest rates were just numbers, making it possible.
What was left was his body. My father worked himself to the bone to pay off the debt and feed his child, using his greatest asset—his body—to earn meager wages. But we could only sustain a life barely enough to survive.
As construction work often is, it was dangerous. Danger was a bridge to death, and my father fell while carrying something from a height of four floors, without any safety measures. Fortunately, he only injured his leg. If you could call that fortunate. Objectively, he survived, so it was fortunate.
When he had to rest for a month due to his leg injury, my father would silently cry in a corner of the rooftop yard, trying not to let me see. What he held in his hand might have been a picture or memento of my mother. He never said anything, so all I could do was guess.
“Yul, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry…”
Before the month ended, he forced himself back to the construction site and died in an accident.
There was no time to grieve the loss of my guardian. As a mere student, I was overwhelmed by the thought of surviving.
The compensation from the construction company was insufficient, even to my young eyes. Thanks to the landlord’s generosity, we could stay in our rooftop room for only two more months.
After that, I drifted between shelters for teenagers. My grades naturally plummeted, and my desire for a home turned into an obsession. If we had a home, my father wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have had to wander and be pitied, or watch my grades fall.
In school, I wished for the miracle of a secondary gender trait emerging. I heard that the blood of those with traits was valuable. And if I manifested as an alpha, all the better. To ease my life a bit or to forget reality, I made those wishes.
Being an alpha indeed made life a little easier. Throughout school, the alphas dominated in sports, grades, wealth, and other material aspects. I prayed every few months, switching between churches, cathedrals, and temples.
“Please, let me manifest as an alpha.”
The gods answered my prayers, but not when I was fifteen and most desperate.
They did it when I was twenty-four, and they only granted the first part of my wish, cutting off the end.
I manifested, so the gods must have felt they fulfilled their duty.
* * *
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Oh man a lot happened to the MC
Poor Yul…..and his life still sucks…