SSD chapter 3

“A child between you and some random guy? And they told you to raise it?”

“Yeah, I got up at the crack of dawn and went all the way out there, and they told me to raise a kid that’s not even my responsibility.”

“So?”

“Well, the guy who was with me said he’d raise it, so I let him.”

“Wow, and that guy’s gonna raise it? A kid that’s not even his? Or is it his?”

“I don’t know, fuck. On the way back, I started thinking maybe he’s some kind of freak. Like, maybe he’s one of those sickos who take in kids just to abuse them.”

“Oh, that’s possible. Are you okay with that? What if he really is like that?”

“What can I do? It’s not like I made the kid. All I did was donate sperm.”

“Still, that’s harsh. Isn’t it a baby with your genes?”

“Do you think that’s the only kid with my genes?”

Yiryeong pulled in the waist of the woman sitting next to him, who he had just met today, and she leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder with a smile.

The boss would probably lose it if he heard that Yiryeong was attending such a shady gathering, but the irritation that had been gnawing at him all day melted away in the warmth of soft skin and sweet perfume.

Yiryeong always liked the feel of being close to someone, no matter the reason or the purpose—especially if it was a woman.

Holding someone, being held, and the touch of lips—all of it.

He took another sip of strong liquor.

“So, did you see the baby? Who does the baby look like?”

“See it? No, I walked out the moment the guy said he’d take it. Why should I care about that?”

“You’re so mean. You should’ve at least looked at the baby’s face.”

“I don’t like kids.”

“But you like sex?”

“Of course.”

Yiryeong’s hand slid lower, grabbing the woman’s buttocks.

She let out a small scream, but it was followed by a playful laugh.

He buried his face in her chest. The unfamiliar feel of new skin was something he always enjoyed.

The lightness of these relationships, where nothing about each other mattered beyond appearances, was perfect.

This level of connection was always the best for him. He had never been interested in taking responsibility or raising anything.

“Should we book a room and make a baby tonight?”

“What? Are you going to take responsibility for mine?”

“No, that’s not going to happen.”

“What the hell.”

“This bastard’s always like this.”

Looking at his friend, who spoke as if he was used to it, Yiryeong wondered when they had even become friends.

He could barely remember his name, but it seemed they had hung out at this bar a few times recently.

When he shot a slightly annoyed look, as if asking how this guy knew him so well, the friend ignored it and continued drinking and flirting with the woman next to him.

That level of understanding was enough. Yiryeong didn’t say anything more to him. He didn’t like being alone, and he didn’t have many friends left anyway.

°❀•🐰•❀°

Thud. Something was thrown in front of Yiryeong.

He glanced at the object, a tablet PC displaying an article with his face plastered on the screen.

It wasn’t the first time his name had appeared on the front page of a portal site, and there had been several occasions where he’d been plastered all over the front page of newspapers that didn’t even sell well anymore.

But today, the boss didn’t seem to be in a good mood.

“What is this?”

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?”

[Confusing himself with a movie character? Heartless actor Yoon Yiryeong abandons his own child.]

Scanning the headline, Yiryeong recalled the face of the guy he drank with last night.

He had a bad feeling about that guy.

He ran a large hand over his still groggy face.

“Just release a correction. It’s not my biological child, and I didn’t abandon anyone.”

“Did you even hear yourself? Follow-up articles have already been published, and the research center’s phone number is blowing up. Do you really think saying it’s not your biological child is going to help?”

“Aunt.”

“Call me ‘President’.”

Yoon Heewon, his aunt and president, spoke coldly and sternly.

“President. The kid isn’t my responsibility at all. It was a joke between friends when I donated sperm, and the money I got for it was spent on drinks that same night. There’s even documentation proving I’m not legally responsible, and you can’t even call it my biological child. Just because we share genes doesn’t make us family.”

“Whether you think that or not, people are already up in arms about you abandoning your child. They’re going on about how you left some poor orphaned kid behind. Do you think your excuses will fly?”

“Then give the kid some money or something.”

“Hey!”

“What!”

Still clutching his throbbing head, likely from a lingering hangover, Yiryeong snapped back at her, and Heewon took a deep breath as she swept her hair back.

If she didn’t, she might just let go of this good-for-nothing nephew of hers right here and now.

He was still somewhat useful, so she had no choice but to suppress her anger.

She had lost count of how many times she had to clean up after his messes.

She had to apologize to the movie distributor for his upcoming film, and if they got sued, she’d have to figure out how to handle that too.

Just thinking about it made her head throb.

Of course, he’d be off causing another mess, not caring in the slightest, while she dealt with the fallout.

Although she did gain something from these situations, the stress they brought was far from welcome.

‘Useless bastard.’

She cursed inwardly.

“Go raise the kid.”

At her blunt words, Yiryeong’s expression mirrored hers. Seeing that gave her a bit of satisfaction.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You’ll find out whether it’s possible or not once you try. Until then, you’re on a break. I’m cutting off your car, manager, corporate card, and any other support you were getting. I know you’ve got no money saved up because you’ve been fooling around, so unless you want to be flat broke, get going. Don’t worry about your promotional events—they’ve all been canceled.”

“Aunt!”

“I told you to call me ‘President’! Go raise the kid. Play the role until the public calms down. After that, do whatever you want with it!”

“But that weird guy probably already took the kid. How am I supposed to raise it?”

“Go to his place and beg him if you have to! Do you even realize how many scandals you’ve been in? That whole drug fiasco was a nightmare to clean up. And I’m still getting calls from people who claim you abandoned them, threatening to go to the press if you don’t take responsibility.”

She closed her eyes tightly, overwhelmed by a migraine as she poured out her frustration.

“And now what? You abandoned a child? I’m not fixing this. You are. If you don’t want your already trashy image to sink even lower, where you can never show your face again, then get over there right now.”

“Aunt! How could you even say that…!”

Heewon checked her watch, grabbed her bag, then marched over to Yiryeong and flipped her off before storming out of the office.

It was a clear sign that she was done talking, and knowing his aunt, who had been closer to him than his own parents, Heewon was well aware that there was no way he would change his mind once it was made up.

Why me? Yiryeong frustratingly tousled his hair.

“Is this comfortable? Should I hold you like this? No? Hm?”

Dogwon was flustered, trying to find the right way to hold the tiny baby in his arms. He cradled the newborn this way and that, feeling helpless.

The baby, with its face still sticky from the birth, looked so fragile that Dogwon fumbled like a broken machine.

Of course, he couldn’t take care of the baby on his own, so the lab had sent over a nanny to help him, but he wasn’t there 24/7. After his 9-hour shift, Dogwon was left alone with the tiny baby.

It was terrifying just to hold the baby.

The child was so precious and beautiful, yet so small and delicate that Dogwon feared he might break them if he wasn’t careful.

The baby, too small to even hold their own head up, lay limp in his arms, and Dogwon couldn’t shake the fear that even the slightest mistake would cause the baby to slip and fall.

The thought made him marvel at how other parents could hold their children so effortlessly.

The newborn seemed to cry endlessly, as if there was never a moment of peace.

Dogwon didn’t know if all babies were like this or if it was just this one, but the crying seemed especially intense when they were alone together.

The baby would scrunch up its face and use every possible means to express its discontent, whether it was whining, crying, or frowning.

“Are you hungry? Is that it? Are you hungry?”

Dogwon quickly reached for his phone, his hands shaking as he checked the feeding app the nanny had installed to see when the baby had last eaten.

Holding the limp baby in one arm while trying to operate the phone made him anxious that he might accidentally hurt the baby’s neck.

“Let’s see….”

Ding-dong―.

The doorbell rang, sounding unusually loud today. Dogwon, startled, almost dropped the baby in his arms.

In his panic, he tossed the phone aside and quickly cradled the baby with both hands.

Whether it was the uncomfortable hold, the loud doorbell, or some other reason, the baby started wailing loudly.

“Please don’t cry. Don’t cry. Daddy’s sorry. Okay?”

As Dogwon tried to soothe the baby, the doorbell rang again, echoing through the small basement apartment.

Ding-dong―.

“I’m coming!”

He held the baby upright and patted its back. The crying was so loud right next to his ear that it made his head throb.

How could something so small be so loud? It felt like his energy was being drained away.

Dogwon tried to think of what he needed to do first.

Holding the baby and patting its back, he headed to the door to see who was ringing the bell so persistently.

After checking who it was, he’d have to confirm the last feeding time and, if necessary, feed the baby. If not, he’d have to try something else.

Every time the baby cried, Dogwon felt a wave of fear and anxiety.

Never having cared for a baby before, he opened the door, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Who…?”

It was already dark outside, but a man stood at the door, wearing sunglasses and a hat pulled low.

He looked young, judging by his outfit and posture, but Dogwon couldn’t think of any young man who would visit him at this hour.

Thinking it might be a door-to-door salesman or someone promoting a religion, Dogwon gripped the door handle tightly, ready to send the visitor away.

But the man pushed the door open further and stepped inside before Dogwon could say anything.

“Excuse me, who are you…?”

“Don’t you remember me?”

Before Dogwon could fully question him, the man took off his sunglasses and hat, revealing a familiar face.

The second celebrity he’d ever met. And just like the first time, it was Yiryeong.