Actually, It’s a Messy Melodrama Chapter 51

“So….”

Just then, Haeshin spoke again. His voice was much calmer. Come to think of it, has his cheek gotten a little red? The moment the thought crossed Taejun’s mind, Haeshin spoke.

“Were you okay yesterday?”

“…”

“You seemed to be having a really hard time. Are you okay now?”

Haeshin didn’t ask why. He didn’t ask why he had suddenly come to his room, why he had recklessly pulled him into an embrace—the things one would be most curious about in a situation like last night. Instead, he just asked if Taejun was okay.

Taejun cleared his throat out of habit. He felt like his mind was completely scattered by the sudden change in atmosphere. But even that wasn’t unpleasant, so Taejun, idly scratching the tip of his nose with his fingertip, answered.

“It’s just… I have an old nightmare.”

When he’d been agonizing over what to say, no answer came to him, but once he started talking to Haeshin, the words flowed out smoothly.

“It’s a recurring nightmare, but strangely, I never get used to it. When I wake up from that dream, I feel truly awful.”

“Is it a dream related to your hell, sir?”

“Yeah. It is.”

The repeating regressions, the repeating nightmares, and now, the dreadful swamp deepened by the fear of losing Cha Haeshin’s life.

“Was I… helpful for that nightmare too?”

Haeshin’s next question was much more cautious and heavy. The two’s gazes intertwined deeply. Taejun nodded.

“Yeah.”

“That’s a relief. I hope I can continue to be of help in the future.”

Even though it wasn’t his own problem, Haeshin spoke with a somehow solemn expression. An impulse to pull him into an embrace, just like last night, surged through Taejun in an instant, and clenching his fists tightly, he said.

“Yeah. I hope so too.”

Why did Taejun find a ray of light-like comfort just from the fact that Cha Haeshin still existed here?

Embracing a feeling he himself couldn’t understand, Taejun stared at Haeshin for a long while with his fists clenched.

☂️

“Thank you for the ride. Get home safe!”

“Yes, sir.”

It was Secretary Choi who answered Haeshin, who was greeting them brightly through the car window. Taejun waved his hand half-heartedly in place of a greeting. Haeshin, not minding it at all, bowed deeply to Taejun once more before turning and heading toward the convenience store.

Taejun watched Cha Haeshin walk away without closing the window. The quick-witted Secretary Choi also waited without driving off immediately. Only after Haeshin’s figure disappeared into the convenience store did Taejun close the window and lean back comfortably in his seat.

“You’re deliberately coming to work early because of Mr. Cha Haeshin, aren’t you?”

Secretary Choi asked, finally starting the car. Taejun’s expression, reflected in the rearview mirror, hardened into a sullen look. But Secretary Choi did not back down.

“You didn’t have any need to leave this early today, sir.”

“No. I was heading out to check on something…”

Taejun, who was reflexively making an excuse, changed his tune with a short sigh when his eyes met Secretary Choi’s in the rearview mirror.

“Fine. You’re right. I came out early to drop Cha Haeshin off. Why do you have to point that out?”

Now that he’d already figured it all out, making excuses would only make him look more ridiculous. Still, it was embarrassing to admit it so readily, so Taejun grumbled for no reason. Secretary Choi let out a small chuckle.

“I apologize, sir. It’s just… I’m only human, so I find it fascinating.”

“Fascinating?”

“Yes. This is the first time you’ve paid so much personal attention to someone, isn’t it?”

“…It’s not that personal.”

“Because it’s clearly not professional attention.”

Annoyed that Secretary Choi was only saying things he couldn’t even argue with, Taejun shot a glare at the back of his head before opening his mouth with another sigh.

“There’s a reason for it.”

“And it’s something you still find difficult to tell me all about.”

There was a clearly weighty intention in Secretary Choi’s follow-up question. Instead of meeting Secretary Choi’s eyes, Taejun turned his head to look at the scenery outside the car window.

When, and how much of the truth, would he tell Secretary Choi? It had been a really long time since he’d had this kind of dilemma. It was true that his mind was as complicated as it was thrilled. Because, at the very least, Taejun now felt like he was moving forward somewhere.

After a brief moment of deliberation, Taejun opened his mouth, his voice much more serious.

“I can tell you. I can. What could I possibly have to hide from you?”

Secretary Choi closed his mouth and swallowed dryly. The feelings of worry and, deep down, disappointment that he hadn’t shown until now melted away and faded with Taejun’s single statement.

“It’s just… I’m trying to organize how best to say it. Because I… want to persuade you.”

There was no longer any doubt that Secretary Choi was always on Han Taejun’s side in any situation. It was just that Taejun wanted to be a little more cautious about everything. He wanted to reduce Secretary Choi’s worries as much as possible.

“One thing is certain: Cha Haeshin is an important person to me right now. And Cha Haeshin’s safety is currently under threat, and I have to protect him.”

“It’s because of Director Jin.”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Secretary Choi, having grasped the general situation without further explanation, continued.

“If that’s the case, placing guards around Mr. Cha Haeshin is also an option.”

“I’m thinking about that too.”

“Please let me know if you need it.”

“Yeah. I will.”

After replying, Taejun relaxed his body, leaned back comfortably against the seat, and closed his eyes.

How long this round would last, whether all the effort he was making now would turn to nothing in an instant—he pushed aside the problems for which he could find no solution just by worrying.

For that very reason, Taejun had been a man who had never properly lived in the present. He was no different from a wandering soul, aimlessly roaming through a time that was already broken.

That same Taejun was now worrying about tomorrow, the future, later. That alone was enough for Taejun to savor the feeling of living like a human being for the first time in a long while.

This time, let’s not get buried in problems I can’t solve with my own efforts. Even if the world ends tomorrow, let’s do my best to save Cha Haeshin today. As this new sense of purpose became clearer, Taejun’s heartbeat also became more distinct.

“But, sir.”

Just then, breaking the silence in the car, Secretary Choi spoke.

“You don’t necessarily need to try to persuade me. What I need is not persuasion, but an explanation, and that is enough.”

“…”

“I trust you know what I mean.”

It was tantamount to a declaration: No matter the circumstances, I will not judge whether you are right or wrong, but will only do what is helpful to you. The car stopped at a red light, and Taejun slowly opened his closed eyes. Then, he grinned at Secretary Choi, whose eyes he met through the rearview mirror.

“Of course, I know.”

No matter how many times memories were infinitely erased and the time they spent together vanished as if it had never happened, there are relationships that never change. Taejun set down the burden that weighed on his heart like a chronic illness and comfortably closed his eyes again.

☂️

“This feels fucking shitty, for real.”

Youngmin, having just finished a call with Taejun, let out a self-deprecating laugh and swore. Lately, whenever he thought of Han Taejun, his mood always soured like this.

Throughout his life, Youngmin had never particularly compared himself to Han Taejun. There was no need to. In the first place, he wasn’t in a position to compete with Taejun. The clear line drawn between him and Taejun was not the kind that could be crossed with effort.

Therefore, Youngmin didn’t feel particularly inferior to Taejun. Youngmin was satisfied with the power he enjoyed in the world he belonged to. He didn’t feel the need to climb higher, only to scrape by at the bottom, struggling desperately.

But recently, for the first time in his life, Youngmin felt that what was happening to him was unfair. He was the one who met Cha Haeshin first, and he was the one who first developed an interest in him. He could have made him yield with money, but Youngmin didn’t and was trying relentlessly to win his heart purely.

But then one day, Han Taejun appeared out of nowhere—a guy who wouldn’t have even known of Cha Haeshin’s existence if it weren’t for him—and was trying to snatch Cha Haeshin away as he pleased.

If Han Taejun had any conscience, he should have at least felt sorry toward Jin Youngmin. But Taejun didn’t have even the slightest respect for Youngmin. He was busy using his power to intimidate him as if Jin Youngmin were some kind of obstacle.

What made Youngmin feel most miserable was the fact that even with Han Taejun acting so insolently, there was nothing he could do.

Youngmin’s parents were busy trying to stay on Han Taejun’s good side. Moreover, if they found out this was all because of some poor man, it was obvious they wouldn’t take his side. The only person who could stop Taejun was, at best, his maternal grandfather, Chairman Han, but he was so fond of doting on Han Taejun that it was hard to trust him.

That was because Chairman Han might oppose Taejun playing around with Cha Haeshin, but he was not the type of person who would take Youngmin’s side and reprimand Han Taejun.

No matter how he thought about it, there was no suitable countermeasure. He was utterly helpless. It was the first time in his life as the grandson of Myungjin’s Chairman that he had felt so lost and miserable. The frustration and sense of injustice he was feeling for the first time in his life made his chest feel tight.

And it wasn’t even like he was trying to have something so great. He just happened to like an employee who worked at a bar. He couldn’t understand Han Taejun, who was so stubbornly blocking his path, even though he probably wasn’t even serious about Cha Haeshin.

“Let’s just see what else he has to say…”

Youngmin, unable to refuse Taejun’s suggestion in the end, ground his teeth as he scheduled the meeting. A faint madness, never before seen, flickered in his eyes.