The grand ballroom was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a testament to the wealth and influence of the guests gathered there. Jang Jaekyung stood near the edge of the crowd, engaged in a serious discussion with one of his business partners, Lee Minho. They were deep in conversation about the latest merger when the host of the evening, Mr. Park, took to the stage with a microphone in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mr. Park announced, his voice booming over the crowd, drawing everyone's attention. "I have some wonderful news! My daughter, Yoonah, is getting married soon!"
Cheers erupted throughout the ballroom, applause ringing as guests raised their glasses in celebration. Jaekyung's parents were among the crowd, their faces bright with excitement, but Jaekyung could see the knowing glances they exchanged with their friends—the Kims, who had a daughter they were eager to see matched with him.
As the applause continued, Jaekyung felt a familiar tension knot in his stomach. Another engagement. Another reminder that he was still single.He clenched his fists, anger bubbling just beneath the surface as he caught his mother's eye. She was making exaggerated gestures, urging him to pay attention, and he scoffed, turning his back on them to focus on the discussion with Sooho.
"Let's get back to the numbers," he said, trying to drown out the noise of celebration around him.
Once Mr. Park finished his announcement, Jaekyung's father suddenly stepped forward, taking the microphone from Mr. Park with an air of authority. "If I may have your attention once more!" he called out, his voice cutting through the applause.
Jaekyung's heart sank, dread pooling in his stomach.
What was he doing?
"I am thrilled to announce that my son, Jang Jaekyung, will be getting engaged to Soojin, the lovely daughter of my esteemed friend and business partner, Mr. Kim over there! The engagement is set for next month, and the wedding will follow in three months!"
A collective gasp filled the room, and Jaekyung felt the color drain from his face. Shock rippled through the crowd as they processed the unexpected news. He could feel the eyes of the guests on him, their expressions a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
This wasn't happening.
"Appa!" Jaekyung shouted, stepping forward, his voice breaking through the murmurs. "What do you think you're doing?"
His father continued, completely ignoring him. "I expect that this news is published in all major newspapers and on social media by tomorrow!"
"Are you serious?" Jaekyung's voice rose, frustration spilling over. "You can't just decide this for me! I don't even know that woman well!"
Minho, standing beside him, gulped nervously, fully aware of the danger that lay in Jaekyung's expression. He had seen Jaekyung angry before, and it was not a sight anyone wanted to witness.
"Mr. Jaekyung, how do you feel about your engagement?" a reporter shouted, thrusting a microphone toward him.
Jaekyung shot a glare at the reporter, his fists tightening. "Excuse me," he muttered through gritted teeth, turning on his heel and striding toward the exit. He needed to escape, to breathe, to think.
Once outside, he stormed toward the parking lot, his heart racing with frustration. He reached his car and kicked the tire hard, the solid thud reverberating through his leg. "Damn it!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the stillness of the night. "This is insane!"
After a few moments, he took a deep breath, trying to cool off. "Get it together, Jaekyung," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He climbed into his car and drove away from the party, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on his shoulders as he made his way to his mansion in Gangnam.
Upon arriving home, he immediately called his secretary. "I need you in my office first thing tomorrow morning," he said, his voice cold and clipped. "And if I don't see you, you'll lose your job." He hung up without waiting for a response, the urgency of the situation overwhelming him.
As he entered his home, his staff greeted him with polite smiles, asking if he was ready for dinner. But he walked past them, ignoring their inquiries as he headed upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him. They were used to his temperament; they knew better than to press him when he was in a mood.
Inside his room, he loosened his tie, shedding his shirt and pants until he was left in just his singlet and briefs. He sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, frustration mounting as he tried to process the whirlwind of events.
"Damn it!" he groaned, pulling at his hair in exasperation. "Why does he always do this?" He needed to think, to devise a plan. A cool bath might help clear his mind.
After a long soak, he returned to his room, his laptop resting on his lap. Absently, he scrolled through the events of the day, the chaos replaying in his mind. He picked up his phone, contemplating calling his father to unleash his anger, but he hesitated. "No," he thought. "My mood will be ruined all over again ."
Jaekyung lay back on his bed, the soft sheets cool against his skin, but sleep eluded him. Instead, his mind drifted back to the countless nights spent in the company of strangers, each one more frustrating than the last.
**FLASHBACK!! **
The private restaurant was elegantly set, the table adorned with fine china and flickering candles. Jaekyung sat at one end, his expression a mask of indifference as he pushed around the food on his plate. Across from him sat Minji, a bright-eyed girl who had been sent by his mother, her enthusiasm radiating off her like a beacon.
"So, Mr. Jaekyung, what do you like to do for fun?" she asked, her voice cheerful, eyes sparkling with hope.
"Work," he replied flatly, not bothering to look up. The weight of his mother's expectations hung heavily in the air, suffocating him.
"Really? That's interesting! What kind of work?" she pressed, undeterred.
"Business," he muttered, wishing he could disappear. The conversation felt like a chore, a performance he had no desire to participate in.
A gathering he had also attended with his father, he could see his father, standing proudly among his friends at a weekend gathering, gesturing animatedly toward him. "Everyone, this is my son, Jaekyung! The most eligible bachelor in South Korea!"
Jaekyung could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as his father continued, "And he's still single! Can you believe it? This is Soojin, the lovely daughter of Mr. Kim. You two should talk!"
As Soojin approached, Jaekyung tried to muster a polite smile, but inside, he felt trapped. He had met Soojin a few times, and while she was beautiful, he was uninterested and didn't even smile at her on those occasions.
"Hi, kyungie! Your dad says great things about you not onle him but the whole country," she said, her voice sweet.
"Thanks," he replied, cringing at the pet name his tone lacking enthusiasm. He felt his father's eyes on him, silently urging him to engage, to show interest.
Later that evening, after enduring several similar introductions, Jaekyung finally snapped. "Dad, I don't want to date anyone right now!" he exclaimed, frustration spilling over.
His father's expression shifted to disbelief. "What do you mean you don't want to date? You must be blind, impotent, or—God forbid—gay if you can't find a single girl among all these lovely women!"
Jaekyung's heart raced, anger boiling just beneath the surface. "That's not fair! You have no idea what I want!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the crowded room.
His father shrugged, dismissing his feelings with a wave of his hand. "All the women in South Korea would die to be with you, Jaekyung! You're wasting your potential!"
Feeling the eyes of everyone on him, Jaekyung stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he stormed out of the room. He could hear his father calling after him, but he didn't stop. He needed air, space to think.
Sitting alone in his car, he remembered the countless nights spent on blind dates, each one more exasperating than the last. He had tried to explain to his parents that he wanted to find someone on his own terms, but they never understood. They only saw his single status as a failure even with all his success and achievements.
**Back to Present**
Jaekyung jolted back to the present, the weight of his memories pressing down on him. He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Why can't they just let me live my life?" he muttered to himself, the anger still simmering beneath the surface,he didn't really give a fuck about any of them but it was always topic of discussion even in the business world and it always loomed over him like a dark cloud.
Jaekyung shifted beneath the sheets, city lights flickering outside, mirroring his turmoil. Marriage?The word felt suffocating, a reminder of his parents' bitter arguments and loveless union from his childhood.
"What's the point?",he thought, frustration bubbling. Images of smiling couples flashed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed them. They were delusional, love seemed like a luxury he couldn't afford—a distraction from his ambitions.
"Why waste time on relationships?, His career consumed him, and he refused to let anyone derail that. Vulnerability was a risk he wouldn't take.
Leaning back, he stared at the ceiling, yearning for more clarity. No marriage—just him , focused on his empire. He took a deep breath, shaking off doubts. This was his future—nothing else, just work.
He lay back down, staring at the ceiling, the shadows dancing in the dim light. The thought of facing his father tomorrow filled him with anger, but he knew he had to confront him about the engagement.
"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, "You'll figure it out tomorrow Jang Jaekyung. Fighting! "
With that, he closed his eyes, hoping for a moment of clarity, but the memories of his parents' expectations and that of society haunted him, lingering like an unwelcome guest in the back of his mind.
Meanwhile, in a cozy studio filled with the scent of paint and the sound of soft music, Lee Sangwoo was deeply focused on his canvas, brush in hand. The vibrant colors danced under his strokes, capturing the essence of his emotions. His friend, Jin, sat beside him, admiring the progress.
"Wow, Sangwoo, your paintings are getting so much better! At this rate, you'll start selling them in no time," Jin encouraged, a wide grin on his face.
Sangwoo paused, looking at Jin with a half-hearted smile. "If my paintings were really that good, I wouldn't be working day and night just to provide for my family," he replied, bitterness creeping into his voice.
"Come on! You can't give up on your art! You have real talent," Jin insisted, leaning closer. "Remember what Ms. Kim said? 'Art needs patience, and your time will come!'"
"Yeah, but patience doesn't pay the bills," Sangwoo shot back, frustration spilling over. "I'm seriously thinking about giving up on art altogether and focusing on something more… productive. Maybe even switch to a trade."
"Don't say that! You're on the brink of something great!" Jin exclaimed, his eyes wide. "You just need to keep pushing yourself. You've come too far to turn back now."
Just then, Sangwoo's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and saw his younger brother's name. "Joon?" he answered, his heart sinking.
"Hyung! You need to come home !" Joon's voice was frantic, panic lacing his words.
"What's wrong?" Sangwoo's heart raced.
"The landlord came by! He almost threw our stuff out! Eomma promised him we'd pay in a month, but if we don't, he said he'd have his men throw us out onto the streets where we belong!"
Sangwoo felt a wave of despair wash over him. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
He hung up, turning to Jin, who looked worried. "I have to go. Something's come up at home."
"Is everything okay?" Jin asked, concern etched on his face.
"Not really. I'll explain later," Sangwoo replied, already moving toward the door. He didn't wait for Jin's response as he rushed out of the studio, his mind racing.
Sangwoo quickly booked a cab, anxiety bubbling within him as he stared out the window, watching the streets of Gwangjang-dong blur past. The neighborhood was one of the poorest in Seoul, and the reality of their living situation weighed heavily on his mind.
When the cab finally pulled up to their building, he jumped out and rushed inside, heart pounding.
Inside their small, cramped apartment, Sangwoo found his eomma, sitting at the kitchen table, her face drawn with worry. Joon stood nearby, arms crossed tightly, mirroring the tension in the room.
"Eomma, what happened?" Sangwoo asked, his voice urgent.
"The landlord came by, just like Joon said. He's threatening to throw us out if we can't pay the rent soon," she explained, her voice trembling. "I told him we'd have the money in a month, but I don't know how we're going to manage."
Sangwoo felt anger and helplessness surge within him. "You shouldn't have promised him anything. I'll find a way to make the money. You can't work those menial jobs anymore," he insisted, his voice firm. "I won't let you."
"Maybe I should continue with those menial jobs," His eomma suggested, her eyes filled with concern. "I can help out, Sangwoo."
"No! I'll never let you do that!" Sangwoo exclaimed, his frustration boiling over. "You've done enough for us already. I'll find a way out of this."
Joon chimed in, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Hyung, my tuition fees is due, and I need new handouts too. What are we going to do?"
Sangwoo nodded, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "I know. I'll take care of it," he replied, but the weight of responsibility felt crushing. He felt like a failure at 24, unable to help his family or provide for them.
He remembered his college years, how his art had been mocked. *"You're wasting your time, Sangwoo. Art won't get you anywhere,"* a classmate of his had sneered. He recalled the countless critiques, where professors had dismissed his work, telling him to find a "safer" path. Many times, he had found his paintings discarded in the trash after he sold them, a painful reminder of his struggles.
"Maybe they were right," he thought bitterly, the doubts creeping back in. "What if I should have listened and switched to something practical?"
His mother's voice broke through his thoughts. "Sangwoo, come have dinner. You need to eat and get some rest. We'll figure this out together."
He looked at her, the love and resilience in her eyes igniting a flicker of hope within him. "Okay, Eomma," he said softly. "I know we'll find a way."
As they gathered around the small table for dinner, his eomma spoke gently, "We've faced tough times before, haven't we? Remember when we thought we'd lose the apartment last year? We managed to scrape by."
"Yes, but this feels different," Sangwoo confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if this time… what if I can't find a way?"
"Then we'll figure it out together," Joon interjected, trying to sound brave. "You're not alone, Hyung. You have us."
Sangwoo looked at his brother, then at his mother. In that moment, he realized that no matter how heavy the burden felt, he had to keep fighting—not just for himself, but for them.
After dinner, Sangwoo took a quick shower, letting the warm water wash away the tension of the day. He stepped out, feeling slightly refreshed but still weighed down by the burden of his responsibilities. He lay on the narrow bed he shared with his younger brother,Hyungjoon, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
As the dim light from the street filtered through the window, he pondered the next steps he needed to take to pull his family out of this mess. Since their father had passed away, Sangwoo had taken on the role of the man of the house, juggling bills and trying to ensure Joon could continue his education. It felt like an impossible task.
Sangwoo had a few friends who might have been able to help him, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out. The embarrassment of needing assistance gnawed at him. "I want to prove I can make it on my own,"he had thought, but the reality was starkly different.
"What's the next step?, How do I get my family out of this mess now?", He said staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Since their father died, he had taken on the role of the man of the house, managing the bills and Joon's education. The weight of responsibility felt heavier than ever.
Sangwoo sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet room. He knew finding a job in their neighborhood wasn't easy. The people here were struggling just like them, and he often found himself in fierce competition for any available work. Even if he managed to find something, the pay was usually meager.
"Getting a job in the city?"he thought, shaking his head. " No,It's a waste of time." He sighed softly and remembered the countless times he had gone to other areas, only to be met with dismissive stares and condescending remarks. The transportation costs were another burden he couldn't afford. It felt like a no-win situation.
He had a few friends who might be able to help him, but the thought of asking for their assistance filled him with embarrassment. He wanted to prove he could make it on his own, but the reality was that he was struggling.
He also remembered the time he had sold chive dumplings for his mother in the market. It had started off well, but soon the local thugs demanded higher taxes from them, threatening to shut down their small operation if they didn't comply. The experience had been disheartening, a painful reminder of how hard it was to make an honest living in their neighborhood.
With a heavy heart, Sangwoo reached for his phone, scrolling through the internet aimlessly. A headline caught his attention: *Billionaire CEO Jang Jaekyung to Marry Model Kim Soojin.* Curiosity piqued, he searched for recent pictures of Jaekyung but found only a few. It was clear the young CEO preferred to keep his life private, focusing on his business rather than seeking the limelight.
As he scrolled through few images of Jaekyung, a wave of envy washed over him. Jaekyung seemed to have everything—success, wealth, and a bright future ahead. Sangwoo couldn't help but compare himself to the billionaire. "Here I am, struggling to make ends meet, feeling like a total failure at 24.",The stark contrast felt like a punch to the gut.
"What am I doing with my life?,"he thought, frustration bubbling up again. He sighed softly, dropping his phone onto the bed beside him. His gaze shifted to Joon, who had fallen asleep, his face peaceful and carefree. Sangwoo reached out, caressing his brother's cheek gently. "You deserve so much more than this," he whispered, feeling a swell of protectiveness.
"I'm so sorry, Joon," he whispered, feeling the weight of his promises pressing down on him. He leaned down and kissed Joon's forehead, wishing he could shield him from the harsh realities of their lives.
With a heavy heart, Sangwoo turned off the light and lay back down, staring into the darkness. The uncertainty of tomorrow loomed over him like a dark cloud, but he knew he had to face it head-on.
Thoughts swirled in his mind, mixing with the quiet hum of the night. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was at a crossroads. "Should I give up on my art?",The question echoed in his mind, a persistent reminder of the dreams he had once held dear. But the reality of their situation pressed down on him, demanding practicality over passion.
"I'll find a way," he promised himself, feeling a glimmer of hope. "For Joon, for eomma, for us."
As sleep overtook him, Sangwoo clung to that thought, ready to face whatever tomorrow might bring.