Tae had run after him, calling out,"Yeo Jun, Yeo Jun, please forgive me!"Yeo Jun, standing on the other side of the gate, was listening to everything. He had pushed away his only friend today, but he didn't want to give him false hope. He couldn't even tolerate someone being close to him, so how could he be in a relationship?
Tae was still calling after him, but then the security guard stopped him and told him to leave. Sad, he turned around and sat down inside the car.
Tae had started hating himself. There was a heaviness in his heart — he couldn't understand whether it was sadness or self-loathing. He liked Yeo Jun, but more than that, he wanted to bring Beast down, just to prove that Yeo Jun had left Beast to choose him.
For the first time in his life, Joon Hyunk had truly fallen for someone — and Tae understood that very well. That's why he wanted to use Yeo Jun as Beast's weakness.
But after Yeo Jun's rejection, it felt like someone had stolen something very precious from him. He felt as if Beast had already defeated him even before the battle had begun.
He didn't know if he was angry at Yeo Jun for saying no — or just heartbroken. He himself couldn't figure it out.
Yeo Jun rushed into his father's room.It was empty, silent — like the way he felt inside. He didn't need to think anymore. He just had to leave — anywhere, as long as it was far from here.
He grabbed one of his father's spare bags and quietly brought it to his own room. His own bag was still at the mall — left behind in the chaos. There had been no bomb, only a rumor… another lie in a city full of them.
Now, all he wanted was to disappear.This city had tested him at every turn, breaking him down piece by piece — and he couldn't take it anymore.
Past...
Amidst the peaceful, silent mountains of Hadong — in a simple yet breathtakingly beautiful village in South Korea — lived the Han family.
They weren't famous for wealth or status, but for their warmth, decency, and quiet strength.
All around the village were tea fields and cherry blossom trees. The air held a peace no city could ever offer. Life moved slowly, sweetly — it felt sacred, like a prayer.
Ji-Ho, the youngest son in the family, was a soft-spoken and innocent boy. Bright eyes, a gently smiling face — and a calmness in his tone that touched everyone's heart.
While the other kids ran off to play football, Ji-Ho found joy in the kitchen. His favorite moments were spent cooking with his mother and sister.
His tiny hands tried shaping dumplings, stirring stew, or folding seaweed rolls — his mother would watch and burst out laughing.
"One day, you'll fill someone's heart with your cooking," his mother, Han Eun-Mi, always said while gently running her hand through his hair — because seeing that little boy so sweetly focused on kitchen chores made him look absolutely precious and innocent.
Ji-Ho would blush and smile."But first, I'll cook for you every day, eomma."(mama)
Han Dae-Soo, Ji-Ho's father, was the respected chief of Hadong village. Yet, there was no arrogance or tyranny in his leadership—only a deep love and devotion for his people. Dae-Soo was the man who would lend a helping hand to anyone in need, resolve even the smallest disputes, and carry the burdens of the elderly without ever uttering a single complaint.
Eun-Mi, his mother, was the heart and soul of their home. Gentle, wise, and overflowing with love, she had never ventured beyond the serene mountains of Hadong, yet her affection was more profound than that of any city woman.
Then there was Han Ji-Yeon, Ji-Ho's elder sister—intelligent, strong-willed, and compassionate. After completing her education in the city, she had returned to Hadong—not because she disliked urban life, but because she was determined to make a difference for her people. With tireless effort and a bit of government support, she established a small yet modern school in the village, offering an education comparable to that of the city. The school had since become the pride of the community.
"Everyone leaves the village chasing a better life," she once told Ji-Ho, "but someone has to stay behind to make this place better."
Ji-Ho held her in the highest regard. She was brave in ways he had yet to learn.
As Ji-Ho grew older, his passion for cooking deepened. What began as a simple hobby had transformed into his way of expressing love, healing others, and dreaming big. He completed his schooling within the village itself and later made the decision to pursue a career as a professional chef.
His parents were initially surprised but never disappointed. In their household, love meant unwavering support.
"It won't be an easy journey," Dae-Soo had said one evening, gazing at his weathered hands. "But you possess something the cities lack—a true heart. Cook with your heart, and you will go far."
They prayed wholeheartedly for their innocent son and wished him every success.
One quiet night, Ji-Ho uploaded his CV to a website—simply trying, with no great expectations. He never imagined it would lead anywhere.
But sometimes, life answers prayers in the most unexpected ways.
Two weeks later, an email arrived—a job offer from a renowned private hotel in Seoul. An Assistant Chef position, complete with training, accommodation, and the promise of a new beginning.
Ji-Ho stared at the screen, speechless.
"Eomma… Appa… (mom , dad ) I think… I'm going to Seoul," he said softly.
His mother embraced him tightly, tears glistening in her eyes. His father smiled with pride, nodding silently, though a trace of sadness lingered deep within his gaze.
Dae-Soo, too, was overwhelmed with happiness for his son.Ji-Ho had never imagined that life would offer him such a grand and beautiful chance to fulfill his dream.
At that moment, their home was filled with warmth and celebration. Everyone was proud — proud of their son's success, of how far he had come.
And just like that, Ji-Ho's simple life began to change — from a kitchen under cherry blossom trees to a city made of steel and glass, a place that never slept.
What he didn't yet know was that Seoul wasn't just going to shape his career — it was going to test the depths of his soul... or perhaps even wound it.
A few days later, after heartfelt goodbyes and carrying the weight of his family's prayers, Ji-Ho finally arrived in Seoul.
The moment he stepped into the city, his heart began to pound — fast and uncertain, as if it were learning how to breathe all over again.
He looked out the taxi window, and in his eyes still shimmered the same innocence that had lived among the peaceful mountains of Hadong.But now, in front of him stood a city that never turned off its lights.
A little while later, the taxi slowed to a stop in front of a massive gate.Above it, written in golden letters:
"Hotel Galleria — Seoul's Premier Private Luxury Hotel."
Ji-Ho's eyes widened in awe.
In front of him stood a 30-story marvel of glass and marble. Under the moonlight, the hotel sparkled like something out of a dream.High-end cars lined the entrance, uniformed staff moved with precision, golden lamps flickered softly, and fresh white flowers adorned the main doors — it all felt like a scene straight out of a drama.
"Am I really here… to work at a place like this?" he whispered to himself, a subtle wave of nervousness washing over him.
The moment he stepped inside, it felt like he had walked into a luxury dream.The lobby floor was Italian marble; enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. One wall was lined with modern art, and on the other side, a serene indoor fountain played soft music.
Everything was so immaculately polished, Ji-Ho was almost afraid to touch anything — worried he might leave a mark.
And then, a calm, commanding voice reached his ears:
"You must be Ji-Ho, right?"
Ji-Ho turned around.
A sharply dressed man in a dark blue suit stood before him — the hotel manager.His name was Mr. Kang Tae-Hyun, a man in his 40s with a calm yet authoritative presence.
"Ji-Ho . Yes… annyeonghaseyo,(hello)" Ji-Ho replied politely, eyes slightly lowered.
Mr. Kang offered a handshake, his expression unreadable. Without wasting time, he led Ji-Ho down a long hallway and into a staff interview room.