Mine to Break Chapter 5.1 - Pregnancy

“Hey, be honest. What kind of mess did you cause?”

“…….”

“Damn it, are you not going to talk?”

Under the relentless prodding of the hot-tempered manager, Yoonjo, who had been sitting quietly, finally opened his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

“You useless bastard.”

As expected, the manager, infuriated by Yoonjo’s empty response, struck him on the head with a loud thwack from the passenger seat. Yoonjo remained docile, accepting it as it was. The manager was the type to respond to any reaction with even harsher violence. In fact, most people Yoonjo had encountered since becoming an adult were like that.

“Just try mentioning my name. I’ll half-kill you.”

The manager, who would let Yoonjo sit in the passenger seat when he was relatively clean but throw him into the back seat when he was a mess, complaining about the smell, deeply resented having to play chauffeur to a “whore” like Yoonjo.

“Damn it, don’t you ever try to run away?”

It wasn’t a question or an attempt to coax. Yoonjo knew the manager was looking for an excuse to beat him senseless. It also implied that someone from another team had tried to escape, and it meant not all the members had willingly agreed to the company’s contracts.

“Get out.”

The manager parked the car on the street, barked a single command, and got out first. Normally, he would have left Yoonjo to go up alone, saying he was going to smoke or grab a coffee, but today he rode the elevator with him.

A creeping sense of unease, which had started to rise the moment the manager kicked open the front door, now overwhelmed Yoonjo. Even so, there was nothing Yoonjo could do about it at the moment.

ᢉ𐭩

In the president’s office, Park Changseong and Attorney Choi were waiting.

“What the hell have you been doing out there?”

The moment the door opened, an ashtray came flying, grazing Yoonjo’s forehead. Blood trickled from the long gash it left. If he hadn’t dodged, it wouldn’t have just torn his skin—it could have cracked his skull.

The manager, who had nearly been hit by the ashtray’s fragments, hadn’t even fully stepped inside and only peeked his head in.

“I delivered him exactly as ordered.”

Not wanting to catch any stray blame, the manager, avoiding eye contact with the fuming Park Changseong, slammed the door shut and bolted.

“Song Yoonjo.”

“…….”

“YJ0422-128!”

Dazed from the blow to his forehead and unable to respond immediately, Yoonjo finally answered, startled by the booming call of his product code.

“Yes…”

“You damn bastard, what did you do with Geum Sahyeok?”

“…….”

“What did you do to piss off Geum Sahyeok that they’re talking about deleting your product code?”

Ah.

Yoonjo understood why Park Changseong was so enraged. The memory of Geum Sahyeok’s face as he skimmed through the manifestation report and the red blood that had soaked the hotel sheets flashed through his mind. Yesterday’s summons had been a procedure to check on Yoonjo’s physical condition. To think he’d made such a ridiculous request to someone like that—how absurd it must have seemed.

The taste of blood filled his mouth. It felt like the torn inner lining of his mouth was bleeding again.

Fortunately, no more blood had spilled at the hotel. The carpet and sheets were a mess, but no more terrifyingly bright red blood had come from Yoonjo’s body. Even after showering, he checked several times to ensure the bleeding had stopped. At the hospital, Director Kim hadn’t rummaged around inside him as usual, so no further bleeding occurred.

Applying ointment by himself was harder than expected. He could reach his prostate easily enough, but his fingers couldn’t reach deeper, to the places ravaged by men’s careless intrusions.

He didn’t want to rely on Director Kim’s hands. That’s why he’d gone to another hospital. He truly just wanted “treatment.”

“Song Yoonjo! Snap out of it!”

Lost in his thoughts, Yoonjo blinked at the shout calling him back. He looked at Park Changseong. His vision was blurry. Blood. Oh, there was blood. Yoonjo grabbed several tissues from the table and pressed them firmly against his forehead.

It hurt. Like he’d been burned.

“I’m asking you what you did to Geum Sahyeok!”

“I… asked him to let us debut.”

“What?”

“To debut.”

Once the bleeding slowed, his vision cleared. His light brown eyes, which sparkled like glass beads in the sunlight, locked onto Park Changseong.

“I asked him to let our team debut.”

“Is that something a whore like you should be doing?”

“They’ve got product codes too, don’t they?”

This time, Park Changseong was the one at a loss for words.

“I know they haven’t signed contracts yet. Please take them off the platform.”

“Ha! What the hell, you little bastard. What? If we don’t take them down, what are you going to do about it?”

“They’re minors, they don’t have debts, and their dream is to be singers.”

“Dreams? Dreams!”

Yoonjo silently stared at Park Changseong, who was sneering, and opened his swollen, red lips.

“They’re different from me.”

“You damn bastard. Everyone in this industry who’s fallen to the bottom is the same. They’ll live as washed-up idols and end up ruined anyway, so what’s wrong with finding them a place to survive? Huh?”

“Let them go from the company.”

“Oh, really? And if we don’t? Are you going to report us or something, Song Yoonjo? What—don’t care about shaming your parents or whoever, ready to sue a whore like you and make a scene?”

“Oh, come on. President Park, calm down.”

It was Attorney Choi, who had been silently observing, who stepped in to stop Park Changseong, who looked ready to lunge at Yoonjo.

“That ashtray’s a one-use item, isn’t it? What if you scar the kid’s pretty face? Yoonjo, are you okay?”

Attorney Choi stepped between Park Changseong and Yoonjo, trying to lighten the mood, and took out a handkerchief to press against Yoonjo’s forehead.

“Ah—.”

Yoonjo’s arm flinched under the intense pressure, which nearly drew a groan, as Attorney Choi gripped it tightly, almost as if he meant to break it.

“Yoonjo. You were eavesdropping on our conversation last time, weren’t you?”

“…….”

At the accusation of eavesdropping, Yoonjo’s eyes wavered slightly. As expected, distracting kids was as easy as pie.

“Our Yoonjo. I didn’t know you were such a sneaky little rat.”

“Hey, you little rat. Is that why you’ve been hopping around to dozens of hospitals, hustling for tickets?”

“Tickets? I’m sure Yoonjo had his reasons. Director Kim can be a bit much, you know.”

“What’s the big deal about sucking a dick for free treatment?”

“President Park, you’re scaring the kid. Calm down.”

Attorney Choi, wrapping an arm around Yoonjo’s shoulder, patted his back gently and sat him on the couch. Yoonjo, following without resistance, felt like he was bound by invisible shackles.

“Yoonjo, why did you go to other hospitals?”

“…For treatment.”

“Because Director Kim was being a jerk?”

“…….”

“The money for the hospital visits? You don’t have any money, Yoonjo. You don’t even have cash for transportation and use the company card, so where did you get the money for hospital bills?”

“Sometimes… my parents give me pocket money when I see them.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Attorney Choi, giving a vague response, glanced at Park Changseong, signaling to ease up on the tension.

“You’re saying you didn’t take backdoor money while sucking off hospital directors?”

“No.”

“Director Kim can be a bit rough, sure. President Park will talk to him, so don’t worry about about it anymore. President Park takes good care of his merchandise, doesn’t he?”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. Though he habitually raised his hand, he was relatively less violent with the merchandise sent out on assignments.

“By the way, Yoonjo, what are you going to do now that you’ve lost a big client?”

“…….”

“You should’ve known better than to overstep. You weren’t even his exclusive, so what made you think you could talk big? Were you planning to cozy up to Geum Sahyeok again? Trying to at least secure a second spot?”

“That’s… not it.”

“Still, it seems even you could tell Geum Sahyeok was a big fish. You even tried pillow talk, which you never do.”

Looking at Yoonjo’s red, irritated eyes from all the abuse, Attorney Choi licked his lips and started getting to the point.

“Are you close with the members?”

“No. I’m not close.”

Yoonjo answered before Attorney Choi even finished the question, then realized his mistake and shut his mouth. Seeing this, Attorney Choi smirked inwardly.

Easy to handle, our good boy Yoonjo.

“Well, with your schedule, Yoonjo, you probably didn’t have time to bond with the kids. So why did you ask for them to debut? Do you want to be a singer, Yoonjo?”

Attorney Choi, looking down at Yoonjo with a puzzled expression, added one more thing.

“You didn’t sign up for casting to become a singer, did you? You wanted to make money. You heard celebrities can make a lot of money, so you signed with the company for that, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Then let’s forget about the members and talk about money.”

“Attorney.”

Yoonjo, who had been looking down, raised his eyes to meet Attorney Choi’s, then looked up at Park Changseong.

“The members are talented. They’re kind and hardworking. If they debut, they’ll succeed. They’ll make good money. President Park, you said you started this entertainment business to make a lot of money, didn’t you? They’re worth investing in. They really came here to become singers.”

“Look at our Yoonjo, still so naive. Is the world that simple? If you’re talented, kind, and hardworking, does everyone succeed? If that were true, you’d have been the first to make it, right, President Park?”

“Song Yoonjo still hasn’t gotten a grip. He still sees the world so naively. It’s my fault for being soft on him, damn it. My fault!”

“Well, to be fair, there’s no need to slap product codes on kids who aren’t even adults yet. Yoonjo’s not entirely wrong, President Park. The B-team kids don’t even have omegas, and sending them out for escorting later wouldn’t yield much profit. Like Yoonjo said, how about taking them off the platform? They’re minors, so it’s a bit legally risky too.”

Park Changseong, frowning but not outright dismissing the suggestion, crossed his arms as if daring Attorney Choi to keep talking.

“But Yujeong is different, isn’t he, Yoonjo?”

“…….”

“Yujeong is an adult, and like you, he’s been floating around as a perpetual debut candidate. I’m 100 percent sure he’d sign the contract if we offered him a debut with a sponsor.”

Adjusting his glasses and smiling kindly, Attorney Choi began spilling the words he’d prepared.

“Should we call him in and ask? If Yujeong refuses, we’ll let it all slide. Honestly, Lucid Entertainment doesn’t have the resources to launch a rookie group right now. We’ll even guarantee a solid connection to another company that can debut them, provided Yujeong turns down our offer.”

Park Changseong, who had been standing discontentedly, nodded as if the outcome was obvious, then added with a threatening tone.

“But Song Yoonjo, let’s get one thing straight. I don’t care about your meddling or whatever, and it’s none of my business. If we confirm this, Yujeong’s going out on assignments immediately. That kid’s got no manners, all stiff and useless, so we were going to cut him loose without a product code. But our dear Song Yoonjo’s rolling out the red carpet for him? What luck that kid has. No debts, so if he lands a decent client, he’ll pocket some cash, perform on stages, and live well. Thanks to you, Song Yoonjo, he’s hitting the jackpot at twenty-one.”

“President Park, you’re talking like that again. Even kind words sound rotten with that tone.”

Attorney Choi shot a sardonic glance at Park Changseong, then patted Yoonjo’s shoulder, telling him to ignore it.

“What should we do? Should we call Yujeong in now?”

“…No.”

“Why do you keep changing your mind, Yoonjo? Are we a joke to you now, me and President Park? Is that why you’re being so fickle?”

Attorney Choi, subtly applying pressure despite never having done exactly what Yoonjo wanted, furrowed his brow as if deeply hurt. Yoonjo, avoiding the gazes of both the smug Attorney Choi and the imposing Park Changseong, kept his eyes lowered.

“…Please don’t.”

Hearing the desired response, Attorney Choi broke into a wide smile.

“Right, even you must realize how absurd your request was, Yoonjo. Who are you to interfere in Yujeong’s life? What if a single wrong word ruins that kid’s future?”

“…….”

It was practically a threat. Yoonjo’s fingertips trembled slightly as he fully understood the threat.

“Did you do something wrong, Yoonjo?”

“Yes… I was wrong.”

“And?”

“…Please forgive me.”

“Good boy. Our Yoonjo’s so good.”

Attorney Choi’s hand, which had been lingering on Yoonjo’s shoulder, moved to pat his head gently.

“When you’re told once, you repent so well, Yoonjo. I’d love to forgive you right away, but this time it’s not so simple.”

His tone sounded genuinely regretful. Sometimes, Yoonjo got confused in moments like this. Was it sincere or not? He knew it couldn’t be sincere, but he still got confused.

“To make up for the money Geum Sahyeok was paying, you’d have to do nothing but eat and do that all day, Yoonjo. How can a person live like that, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Hmm. What should we do…”

Attorney Choi, pausing dramatically with a troubled tone, grabbed Yoonjo’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes, smiling like a kind adult.

“You’ll need to find someone who pays as much as Geum Sahyeok, right?”

“…….”

Yoonjo knew exactly who Attorney Choi was referring to. The hand gently rubbing the dried blood on his skin was thick with desire. Attorney Choi, not even bothering to hide that desire, interpreted Yoonjo’s unusually pale face as a reaction to the blood. That wasn’t entirely wrong either.

“You know Ha Sangmin, right? The guy who got rich overnight riding the crypto wave.”

“…….”

Yoonjo’s face stiffened sharply. Even though he’d expected it, he couldn’t help his reaction when Ha Sangmin’s name came up.

“That nouveau riche bastard’s birthday is next week, I hear. He specifically requested you, Yoonjo.”

“…….”

“You know how much you dislike Ha Sangmin.”

If you put it that way, there wasn’t a single client Yoonjo liked. There were only degrees of less dislike, less fear, or less horror.

“I know Ha Sangmin’s a sadistic freak, so I’m not going to give him exclusive rights. Right, President Park?”

“Exclusive, my ass. That guy would come back in two days demanding repairs or a refund.”

“But you need to make money, Yoonjo. Pay off your debts, your family’s debts. Don’t you want to live comfortably together in one house someday?”

The hand that had been holding his chin slid down to stroke Yoonjo’s neck, lingering persistently on the deep, thin strap marks left by Ha Sangmin.

“You’ve been through a lot, so rest well from today until next week. You’ll need to recover to deal with Ha Sangmin.”

They knew Yoonjo’s physical condition wasn’t normal. They also knew Ha Sangmin was obsessed with Yoonjo’s wounds.

“Oh, how about we book a separate hotel room for you? It’s hard to rest properly with the kids coming and going. Should we get you a studio apartment instead?”

“Nice, real generous. You’d think it’s Choi’s money being spent.”

“Forgive President Park’s stinginess, Yoonjo. He’s just struggling with debts from a business that doesn’t suit him.”

At Attorney Choi’s playful whisper, Park Changseong grimaced but finally uncrossed his arms, speaking as if giving up.

“Too much hassle to manage separately. Forget the studio. Yoonjo, you’ll stay in a hotel until next week’s assignment.”

It wasn’t consideration—it was isolation. Or confinement.

Yoonjo thought he understood why they were doing this. The moment he heard Ha Sangmin’s name, he wanted to run away, debts be damned.

“Call Choi Youngki in.”

Having said everything he wanted, Park Changseong pressed the intercom to summon the manager. Meanwhile, Attorney Choi, still tenaciously stroking Yoonjo’s skin, whispered quietly.

“When it’s tough, think of your parents and your twin siblings. Family’s all you’ve got in times like these.”

Yoonjo, his fingers now slick with sweat, tightly gripped Attorney Choi’s hand, his trembling lips pressed firmly together.

ᢉ𐭩

“Hyung?”

Yujeong, washing his hands in the bathroom, noticed Yoonjo entering and greeted him awkwardly, as if surprised.

The thought of getting into that cramped car and being taken to who-knows-where was unbearable. Bracing himself for a beating, Yoonjo had told the manager he needed to use the bathroom and stepped inside, only to freeze at the unexpected encounter.

“Weren’t you resting at home? They said you’ve been working almost non-stop for three days…”

Yoonjo, standing there dazed, suddenly snapped out of it. Or maybe he lost his mind. Grabbing Yujeong’s wrist with one hand and covering his mouth with the other, Yoonjo dragged him into a stall.

“Hyung…?”

“Yujeong.”

“…….”

Yujeong, half a head taller than Yoonjo, let himself be pulled along without resistance, but his words caught in his throat. As Yoonjo’s cap, which he’d been pressing down, fell off, half his face was revealed.

The dried blood on his forehead, the red, raw skin around his eyes, and above all, the swollen bridge of his nose, clearly visible even over his mask, stood out starkly.

Yujeong, looking down at Yoonjo—covered in red and blue bruises and scars—grabbed his arm. Then, startled by Yoonjo’s flinch, he quickly let go. He knew what Yoonjo was doing, but was this really something he was doing willingly?

“Hyung, what the hell…”

“Yujeong, get out of this company.”

“What…?”

“Take the kids and get out.”

Before Yoonjo could say more, he flinched hard.

“Song Yoonjo! Get out here! Damn it, you didn’t jump out the window, did you?”

Yujeong, hearing the manager’s voice from outside, panicked. He knew the manager wasn’t a kind person, but seeing him treat someone so harshly firsthand was shocking.