The sky was already darkening by the time rehearsals finally wrapped up for the day, with Jaemin driving them at a hard pace without letting up on a single detail. Not a single musician left the rehearsal hall without aching hands and bodies, but it was a good, triumphant kind of pain that symbolised their valiant battle.
Always the last two to leave the hall, Do-hyun and Jaemin were just about to leave when Manager Park's voice called out from behind them.
"Kang Do-hyun-nim," he beckoned apologetically. "May I have a word?"
"Sure." He exchanged a quick look with Jaemin, silently indicating for him to go on ahead. Jaemin simply nodded and left without preamble.
Manager Park watched the exchange with a trained neutral expression. When Do-hyun reached him, he began by asking, "How is he doing?"
Knowing where the question would lead, Do-hyun deliberately chose to misunderstand it. "Conductor-nim is the best thing to have happened to this orchestra for many years now, Park Sangho-nim. I apologise most sincerely for the harsh words I spoke about him to you before. He's more than proved himself at the Revival Gala, and I know I speak for the orchestra as a whole when I say we won't stand for anyone else."
Manager Park's eyebrows shot up. "... Good, good, that's very good to hear. That's not what I was asking, though."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"If you mean his health, then, well, I'm afraid you'll have to ask him about it, since as someone who's just a colleague, I'm not in a position to, uh, disclose, or even be privy to, such sensitive personal information about a fellow colleague…"
Manager Park Sangho's eyebrows seemed to be making an attempt to be a part of his hairline. Fortunately for Do-hyun, he chose not to push, but instead changed his angle.
"I meant to ask, how has he been coping in rehearsals? I know he's been working everyone hard, but does he seem… unsteady?"
Do-hyun paused, frowning. "No… Did someone say something?"
"No, not exactly, it's just that I popped in to listen for a short while today after the break and he seemed a little… flustered? Distracted?" Manager Park jumped as Do-hyun suddenly let out a loud laugh. "What is it, did something happen?" he demanded.
"No, no," Do-hyun insisted quickly, wiping his hand over his face to try to erase his grin. "No, he was just… distracted by a small prank by one of the members, but it's nothing to worry about, really. Just some harmless fun." When Manager Park stared at him assessingly, he added sincerely, "I promise he was okay."
"... That's good then. I was just worried that this whole mess with the media would get to him. We've never had reason to be a target of a campaign this aggressive."
Do-hyun immediately sobered. "I… We have an idea who might be behind it, actually."
"Who?"
Do-hyun's jaw tightened. "Remember what you told me when I came to you in your office, back then? That someone had stolen our Conductor-nim's masterpiece…"
"Yes?"
"We think the thief could be the same person orchestrating this media storm."
Manager Park's eyes widened. "How do you know this?" he asked.
Do-hyun shrugged. "He seems to have strong motive."
"Which is? What does he want out of all this?"
Do-hyun paused. "We… I haven't really worked that out yet. But it probably has something involving our Conductor-nim. I have my guesses, but nothing's for sure yet. I just know that he's probably trying to get Conductor Seo Jaemin-nim to break." Now solemn and earnest, he looked at Manager Park. "The SPS will protect him, won't we?"
Manager Park returned his gaze with the confidence of an immovable object. "We'll do everything we can, and then some."
…
As he drove towards Jaemin's apartment, Do-hyun kept turning the conversation over in his mind, his thoughts catching again and again on the unanswered question: What exactly did Choi Seungcheol stand to gain out of this?
He already had his own orchestra, his own glorious reputation in the music world; there was nothing he stood to gain from beating down a relatively small, downtrodden orchestra like the SPS. They had barely gotten back on their feet as it was. No, this wasn't competition.
There was still a possibility, as Jaemin had rightly pointed out earlier, that this whole thing truly wasn't being orchestrated (haha Do-hyun, what a time to be joking around, he chided himself) by anyone at all, and was simply, truly, what the audience thought, and how the media was wont to follow every turn of fancy.
And yet, that option just somehow didn't feel right. Do-hyun just knew it. The attacks were too pointed, too consistent, and yet always drawing back just as things got really heated. It was too careful, too calculated.
At the bottom of it, Do-hyun's gut screamed that it was Choi Seungcheol's twisted, demented way of trying to reclaim Jaemin. He knew it instinctively as an alpha, facing another alpha… in fact, the alpha who had previously claimed the very omega that Do-hyun was now promised to protect.
At some primal level, Do-hyun could understand. It had only been a matter of weeks since his relationship with his conductor had blossomed beyond anything he could ever have imagined between them, but if anyone ever so much as tried to take Jaemin away from him...
Do-hyun had to pull the car over for a moment, hands white-knuckled on the wheel as he fought down a loud, rumbling growl that resonated through his entire being. The ferocious reaction from his alpha instincts at the very thought was like nothing he had ever felt before.
The memory of what Dr. Lee Jisoo had said to him danced through his mind once more, but he pushed it away as he glanced out the window from where he had stopped.
Oxtail soup. Jaemin liked that. And he'd be hungry from the long day of rehearsal.
Do-hyun quickly tapped out a message to him, but even after waiting for a few minutes, there was no reply. That was unusual; he was usually quite quick to respond. Notification alerts rang loud inside the quiet house. Perhaps he was already cooking. Do-hyun tried to phone, only to have his call rejected.
It wasn't until he'd bought two servings of stew for their dinner and was continuing the journey back to Jaemin's that the feeling of unease began. He checked their messages again, only to realise that Jaemin hadn't read any of his texts since shortly after they'd parted ways… in fact, around the same time that Jaemin should have reached home, travelling on his own.
Did something happen? Maybe an accident, or another hormonal spike, or—
The last possibility crashed into his thoughts, no longer a fleeting worry but a terrifying hypothesis that had been lurking beneath the surface of his thoughts this whole time.
Choi Seungcheol.
Once that thought entered Kang Do-hyun's mind, there was nothing else he could do but try his best to keep himself and his car out of a traffic accident as he sped down the roads. He horned impatiently at slow-moving vehicles, and executed some near-Hollywood-worthy turns before finally screeching to a halt in front of Jaemin's block.
All the while, the fear that Choi Seungcheol had somehow breached the safety of Jaemin's nest sent his heart racing even as he took the stairs three at a time.
He heard the shouting the moment he reached the landing of Jaemin's floor, the sound of it only growing as he sprinted towards the unit so anxiously he almost dropped the bags of food.
Even so, he tried to regain some semblance of calm as he knocked on the door. He really should have made Jaemin give him a set of keys, they'd just never had to think about it because they had both only gone together from home to the rehearsal hall and back to home over the last few days.
It had been a casual oversight, one which Do-hyun deeply regretted now as he stood on the outside of the door, listening to the muffled commotion of voices shouting on the other side. He couldn't make out the words, but there was a sharp, angry voice, speaking with high emotion and excitement, and Jaemin's answers, low with frustration.
"Jaemin? Jaemin-ah." Do-hyun forced his voice to sound normal, even though his heart was pounding at the prospect of danger to Jaemin. "It's me. Let me in?"
The voices inside went silent, and a few moments later, the door opened.
But not fully. Jaemin's face peeked through the thin gap between the door and the frame, his expression pale and tense.
"Kang Do-hyun-ssi," he said softly. "It's past hours. Whatever you'd like to discuss about the score, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow."
Do-hyun's mind reeled. "... What? But… I bought us oxtail soup for dinner."
Jaemin's eyes held a desperate but unspoken apology, the scent of anxiety in his floral pheromones growing stronger by the second. "Sorry, Kang Do-hyun-ssi, I'll see you tomorrow at rehearsal—"
As he spoke, he made to shut the door, but just as Do-hyun was about to shove a foot in to block it open, a loud voice rang out from inside.
"OOOHH, you ordered oxtail soup?? See, Noona, I told you! Hyung really knows how to enjoy all the finer things in life."