After that dreamlike date with Dojin, Yoonwoo returned to his daily life.
A few days later, during work hours, an employee came up, panting breathlessly.
“Chief! CEO! The official apology and… the notice of closure for CS Design just went up on their website!”
At those words, everyone in the office stopped what they were doing and looked at Yoonwoo and Seoyeon.
Yoonwoo took the tablet PC the employee handed over.
The screen displayed a short but heavy message posted under Cha Joowon’s name.
[This is Cha Joowon, CEO of CS Design. First and foremost, I would like to offer my sincere apologies to Studio Yeon, Chief Designer Seo Yoonwoo, and everyone in the industry who suffered immeasurable damage regarding the plagiarism dispute of the C Company project. This whole situation stems from the misguided greed of a designer in our company and my own negligence in failing to manage it properly. Therefore, CS Design acknowledges full responsibility for this situation and announces our decision to close the company as of today. We will return the entire investment received from H Pharmaceuticals, and I will take personal responsibility to compensate for all tangible and intangible damages incurred by Studio Yeon. Once again, I bow my head in apology.]
Yoonwoo read the apology slowly, word by word.
The closure of CS Design.
The fact that the company where he and Joowon had poured their youth, working day and night, and where countless memories and mixed feelings of love and hatred were intertwined, was now disappearing into history brought up complex and subtle emotions in Yoonwoo that went beyond bitterness.
The shining moments of success and the agonizing memories of betrayal had now truly become things of the past.
He looked out the window and, for a brief moment, thought back on the eight years he had spent laughing and crying with Joowon.
Overlaid on that was his final image he had seen at the clarification presentation—looking precarious, as if he had lost everything.
A corner of his heart ached, but he soon shook his head.
He was already a person who had nothing to do with him.
Now, he truly had to look forward and move on.
He put down the tablet PC, turned his gaze back to his monitor, and immersed himself in his design work.
Around quitting time, a message arrived from Dojin.
[Chief! Are you free this evening? Gaeul misses you so much! Since you couldn’t eat dinner properly last time… I’ll cook something delicious today! Wouldn’t you like to come see Gaeul with me?]
Yoonwoo smiled at the message that arrived with a cute emoji.
It seemed he had been worried about the fact that Yoonwoo had declined their dinner plans because of Minjae last time.
Yoonwoo was grateful for his consideration.
Being unsettled by the news of CS Design’s closure, he actually missed the soft fur and warm heat of Gaeul.
[I’d love to. I missed Gaeul too. Let’s go together after work.]
As soon as he sent the reply, a swift message arrived from Dojin: [Yes! I’ll be waiting in front of the door after you finish work!]
Added to the end of the message was a photo of the golden retriever key ring Yoonwoo had given him, along with a proud little caption: [Oh, right! This is my alter ego that you gave me! I carry it on my phone case and look at it every day! hehe]
Yoonwoo burst into laughter at the sight of the key ring awkwardly hanging from the phone case in the photo.
He could clearly imagine him insisting on attaching the oversized key ring, which looked like it belonged on a bag, to his phone even though it was obviously inconvenient.
He found the blind affection contained in that action too adorable to handle.
After work, the two headed to Dojin’s studio apartment.
The time spent walking along the familiar path, sharing trivial stories, was comfortable and enjoyable.
However, when they reached the front door of Dojin’s house, an unexpected figure was waiting for them.
An elderly gentleman in neatly tailored traditional Korean clothes (Hanbok), with his graying hair combed back neatly.
He exuded an extraordinary aura that even at a glance showed he was clearly a high-ranking Alpha.
And above all… his facial features and overall atmosphere were too similar to Dojin’s.
Yoonwoo stepped back in surprise, and as soon as Dojin saw the old gentleman, his face froze coldly, and he took a highly defensive stance.
“…What brings you here?”
Dojin’s voice, devoid of his usual brightness and sociability, was cold and sharp.
“I came to see my grandson’s face after such a long time. Will you keep your grandfather standing outside the door now that he’s here? Let’s go inside the house first.”
The old gentleman, ignoring Dojin’s hostile reaction, looked back and forth between Dojin and Yoonwoo standing next to him with a dignified attitude.
Dojin, having glanced at Yoonwoo, did not want to involve him in such an uncomfortable situation, so he politely but firmly stated his refusal.
“This is difficult today, Grandfather. I have a prior engagement. I will contact you later, so please go back now.”
But his grandfather was immovable. He looked at Yoonwoo intently, as if he found him interesting, and said,
“You are that designer who is the protagonist of this plagiarism incident, aren’t you? I actually had something to say to you, so this worked out even better.”
At his one-sided attitude, Dojin’s expression twisted grimly, as if it would explode at any moment.
“Why is Grandfather… talking to the Chief…!”
It was the moment Dojin was about to raise his voice.
Yoonwoo gently grabbed Dojin’s arm.
And he shook his head slightly as if it were okay.
He didn’t want Dojin to clash with his family because of him, and at the same time, he became curious about how Dojin’s grandfather knew about him and what he wanted to say.
At Yoonwoo’s restraint, Dojin finally swallowed the words about to burst out, let out a rough sigh, and entered the door password.
“…Come in.”
As the three entered the house, Gaeul, wary of the stranger’s appearance, hissed aggressively and instantly hid under the sofa.
Dojin looked at Gaeul with pity, then, as if giving up, headed to the kitchen saying he would bring out tea.
In the awkward and heavy silence, Yoonwoo and the old gentleman sat facing each other at the dining table.
The old gentleman spoke first.
He looked Yoonwoo up and down, sending an evaluating gaze as if he were putting a price on him.
“So, you are… the designer who is working with our Dojin these days, right?”
“…Yes, I am Seo Yoonwoo, working together at Studio Yeon.”
Yoonwoo was nervous but answered as politely as possible.
Just then, Dojin interrupted their conversation as he set down the tea.
His voice was laced with blatant antipathy.
“This is Seo Yoonwoo, my superior at work and the Chief Designer. And this is my maternal grandfather. Just… know that much.”
“How rude, this boy!”
His maternal grandfather clicked his tongue as if scolding Dojin, but his gaze remained fixed on Yoonwoo.
“So, you… what is your secondary gender? Don’t tell me you’re a Beta?”
His voice contained curiosity and a discriminatory gaze that could not be hidden.
At those words, Dojin’s face hardened.
“If you’re going to say things like that, get out right now.”
His grandfather seemed slightly flustered by Dojin’s intense reaction, but soon cleared his throat and changed the subject.
“Ahem… I was just asking, so don’t be so overly sensitive. And considering how much I helped you with the plagiarism dispute, why do you keep keeping your guard up?”
Yoonwoo looked at Dojin in surprise at his words.
Dojin, with a face that really didn’t want to talk about it, spoke reluctantly.
“…In the process of resolving this incident… Grandfather helped a lot. He provided forensic technicians, controlled the media… and things like that.”
Only then did everything make sense to Yoonwoo.
How Dojin had been able to secure all that evidence in such a short time, and why he had said so confidently that he had his own ‘route.’
But at the same time, the painful confession Dojin had made, tearfully, about his family in Jeju Island came to mind.
The death of his mother due to his grandfather’s enemy, and the conflict with his grandfather that deepened because of it.
How much agony he must have gone through, and how big a debt he must have owed to his heart, just to receive help from such a grandfather.
Yoonwoo felt a pain in a corner of his heart as he vaguely felt the weight resting on Dojin’s seemingly solid shoulders.
Dojin’s maternal grandfather said boastfully.
“Do you now understand why this plagiarism dispute didn’t spread further and was barely covered by newspapers or broadcasting stations? Do you know how much power this old man used behind the scenes?”
He took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Yoonwoo. Written on the card was [Chairman of N Ilbo, Choi Jintae].
N Ilbo.
It was a massive media outlet that dominated the Korean media world, regardless of newspapers or broadcasting.
At his identity, Yoonwoo held his breath.
Only then did all the pieces fall into place: why the owner of the tailor shop in Cheongdam-dong had called Dojin ‘Young Master,’ and why Dojin had been so uncomfortable with that title.
“Since you’ve received my help, don’t forget that you have to pay the price someday.”
Chairman Choi said as he rose from his seat.
“…I just came to greet you today. Take care of yourself.”
He added toward Yoonwoo.
“Ahem, if anything happens to you, contact the number written on that business card. It’s my direct line.”
Leaving those words behind, he left the house without hesitation.
Yoonwoo saw him off politely, but his mind remained confused.
While Yoonwoo was dazed, as Chairman Choi’s heavy presence disappeared, Dojin’s shoulders slumped as if his tension had been released.
He approached and grabbed Yoonwoo’s shoulders.
His face was filled with regret and self-reproach.
“Chief… I am truly sorry. I didn’t know he would come like this….”
His voice was also limply buried.
“…It’s not your fault.”
Yoonwoo comforted him with a low, soft voice. He held Dojin’s trembling hands quietly.
“It’s not your fault, Dojin. Rather… I’m even more sorry because it seems like you had to do something difficult because of me.”
He tried to smile faintly.
“Really… did you contact your grandfather again because of me?”
Yoonwoo’s expression was colored with pity.
Dojin remained silent for a moment before speaking calmly.
“More than my past pain… protecting your present, and your smiling face, was far more important to me.”
Dojin held Yoonwoo’s hand, speaking with sincerity. His gaze was fixed on Yoonwoo without wavering.
“As long as you could smile again, I could have done anything. Really. So don’t feel too sorry. Because I can see you smiling again… I am satisfied enough with that. Because there is no reward as valuable to me as that.”
The two looked at each other in silence for a moment.
Although awkward, a warm consensus of trying to embrace and understand each other’s scars flowed within that silence.
Yoonwoo received great comfort and emotion from Dojin’s deep and truthful gaze that could not be expressed in any words.
