Three days of silence.
Jaemin sat on the floor of his apartment, his knees pulled to his chest, his phone gripped tight in a hand that wouldn't stop trembling. He had called Do-hyun no less than fifty times. He had sent texts, begging for a sign of life.
Nothing.
The silence was a void that swallowed everything: his hope, his confidence, his future. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed the SPS just twenty-four hours prior. The memory of the emergency meeting washed over Jaemin like nausea.
The room, usually filled with the chaotic tuning of instruments and chatter, had been deathly quiet. Manager Park had stood at the podium, looking ten years older than he had on their opening night.
"As of this morning," he had begun, his voice devoid of emotion, "the sponsors for the 'Unplugged' season have formally withdrawn. Citing the criminal investigation into Kang Do-hyun-nim's family and the... uncertainty surrounding our leadership, they have invoked the morality clause in our contracts."
A murmur of devastation had ripped through the musicians.
"What does that mean for us?" Han Chaewon had asked, voice trembling.
"It means the season is cancelled," Manager Park had replied, rubbing his eyes with a heavy hand. "Effective immediately. This hall will be closed until further notice."
Jaemin had stood there, watching the faces of the musicians crumble. The dream they had built together, the orchestra Do-hyun had fought so hard to protect for so many years with his blood, sweat, tears, and money, was dead.
And Do-hyun hadn't even been there to see the body.
Where had Do-hyun disappeared to? Why wasn't he answering?
Staring blankly at the wall, Jaemin tried to sort out the mess of thoughts in his mind. The rational part of him tried to argue that Do-hyun was likely besieged by the media, that his phone had been confiscated or turned off by order of his lawyers and PR advisors.
But the darker, terrified part of him whispered otherwise.
Is he ashamed? Jaemin wondered, his stomach twisting. Is he unable to face us because he can't bear what's being said about his father and his family? Or... does he blame me?
The thought was a knife in his ribs. Maybe Do-hyun was sitting in that big, empty house, realizing that everything had gone wrong the moment Jaemin entered his life. Maybe he was regretting the day Jaemin had walked into that rehearsal hall, sandalwood masking his cherry blossom scent.
He's avoiding me, Jaemin realized, a fresh wave of tears pricking his eyes. He's hurting, but he won't let me in to help him.
But what help could I even be to him right now? What do I have to give him, except more troubles and pain?
At that very moment, the phone in his hand buzzed. A call.
Jaemin scrambled to answer it, heart leaping into his throat. "Do-hyun?"
"Hello, Jaemin-ah." The voice on the other end was smooth, calm, and familiar
Jaemin's blood ran cold. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
"You."
"I saw your little speech to the reporters," Choi Seungcheol said pleasantly. "Very moving. It's so sweet that you're still defending him, even now."
"What do you want?" Jaemin demanded, his grip on the phone tightening. "You've already done enough. The season is cancelled. Our reputation is gone." He swallowed hard, then spat, "You've destroyed us. You won. What else is there?"
"Oh, there's plenty," Choi Seungcheol replied, tone light as if discussing the weather. "I only released the diagnosis, Jaemin-ah. I haven't released the second packet of information."
"What?"
"A list," Seungcheol clarified. "Names of the doctors who prescribed the illegal suppressants. Bank transfers from his mother authorizing the bribes to the medical board. If I release this, the Kang family doesn't just lose their reputation. Madame Kang goes to prison for a very long time. Fraud, bribery, violation of the Medical Act... It will all add up."
Jaemin stopped breathing. The air left his lungs in a rush. "No. You can't."
"I can. And I will. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless you come to me," Choi Seungcheol said. "Tonight."
Jaemin closed his eyes. He finally saw the shape of the trap. It had never been about the music. It had never been about the orchestra. It had always been this. Choi Seungcheol had systematically dismantled Jaemin's world, everything that he had fought to rebuild, just to leave him with one path:
Back to him.
"If I do..." Jaemin whispered, his voice barely audible.
"If you return to me tonight, the second envelope disappears," Choi Seungcheol promised smoothly, not missing a beat. "I will have a statement issued, declaring that the first leak was a forgery created by a disgruntled ex-employee who hacked the system. The investigation stops. The Kangs keep their money. His mother stays free. Your poor little concertmaster gets his life back."
"He'll—" Jaemin choked on a sob. "He'll think I betrayed him."
"He'll recover," Choi Seungcheol corrected coldly. "He's rich. He'll find another omega to play house with. But he'll be safe." The voice on the other end of the line turned soothing. "Isn't that what you want? To protect him?"
Jaemin looked around his empty apartment. He thought of Do-hyun's smile when they had played the Brahms. He thought of the way Do-hyun had held him through the heat, the way he had looked at Jaemin with dark eyes overflowing with adoration, as if Jaemin were the most precious thing in the world.
If Jaemin stayed, the war would continue. Choi Seungcheol would destroy the Kangs, the SPS, burn the entire world down just to hold Jaemin in the ashes.
Jaemin took a deep, shaky breath. These people—each of the musicians in the SPS, those who had left and those who had stayed; Manager Park; Do-hyun and his family—They had served as collateral for long enough. The only way to save them, to save Do-hyun, was to remove the target.
"Where?" he asked, his voice dead.
"The intersection of Gangnam-daero and Teheran-ro. 8:00 PM. You only need to bring your essentials; I have everything ready for you."
"Okay," Jaemin whispered.
"Good boy. I'll be waiting."
The line clicked dead.
…
It had begun to rain when Jaemin left his apartment. A cold, miserable May drizzle that soaked through his coat and chilled him to the bone.
He didn't go to the intersection. Not yet. It didn't matter if he was a few minutes late. Choi Seungcheol knew he had him; he would wait.
He hailed a taxi to Do-hyun's house, one last time. Not to stay, he knew he couldn't stay… but to say goodbye.
When he finally stood in front of the familiar gate, he hesitated. He didn't dare to ring the bell this time. He didn't want Do-hyun to open it. If he saw his alpha's face now, if he looked into those deep brown eyes, his resolve would crumble into dust.
Instead, he rested his forehead against the cold bars of the gate. The rain was heavier now, quickly soaking through his clothing, but it no longer mattered what happened to him.
If he inhaled deeply, he thought he could smell it leaking through the cracks—the smell of cedar. But it wasn't the warm, comforting scent he knew. It was sharp, sour, and heavy with distress.
Do-hyun was in there. He was hurting, locked inside the chaos that Jaemin had led him into, shutting himself away from a world that was out to raze him and his loved ones to the ground.
"I'm sorry," Jaemin whispered into the chilly air, his tears mixing with the rain on his face. "I thought I could fight him. I thought I was strong enough. But I was wrong."
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he clutched at the metal, as if trying to reach the man on the other side.
"I love you, Do-hyun. I love you so much. I can't let you be destroyed because of me. You deserve success. You deserve your legacy. You deserve... peace."
He choked on a sob, his body shaking.
"I hope you'll know that I didn't want to leave you. I hope, maybe you'll be able to forgive me… Someday."
He stood there for a long moment, memorizing the sight of the house that had become a refuge for him, the scent of the man he was leaving behind.
Then, he pushed himself away. Not allowing himself to look back, he walked out into the rain, the wheels of his suitcase a loud rattle against the wet pavement as he headed towards the meeting place, where the monster was waiting to claim him.