Zhan's pov.
I didn't know where to go. The cold bit at my skin, seeping through my clothes, but I barely felt it. I had forgotten my gloves, so I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, my breath coming out in visible puffs as I walked.
I had no destination in mind. I just walked.
Forty-five minutes later, I found myself knocking on Dre's door.
The door swung open, and his ex-boyfriend—now boyfriend—stood there, his eyes widening in shock.
"My god, you're freezing," he said, stepping aside quickly. "Get in here."
I stepped inside, and warmth wrapped around me instantly. The heater was on full blast, the room cozy and inviting, but my chest still felt unbearably cold.
"Zhan, are you okay?" Dre asked as soon as he saw me. His brows knitted in concern as he took in my appearance.
I sank onto the couch, rubbing my hands together, trying to shake off the numbness in my fingers. "I'm fine," I muttered. Then, looking up at him, I added, "I need a drink."
Dre hesitated for a second before nodding. "Alright," he said, moving toward the kitchen. "Let's get you one."
Dre poured me and himself a drink, taking a slow sip as he studied me. "So, tell me everything," he said. "Start from the beginning."
I sighed, leaning back on the couch. "It started fine. I was at Wang's place, cooking dinner. I had no idea his parents were coming until they walked in."
Dre's eyebrows shot up. "Wait—they didn't even tell him?"
I shook my head. "No. Wang didn't know. So they just showed up, with his fiancée."
Dre whistled low. "That's messed up."
I clenched my jaw, feeling that frustration rise again. "His dad was okay, at least. But his mom... the moment she realized I wasn't just a random friend, she wasn't happy."
Dre leaned forward. "What did she say?"
I laughed bitterly. "She didn't say anything at first. But when Wang wanted to introduce me, I panicked and told them I was the chef."
Dre almost choked on his drink. "Chef? Zhan, are you serious?"
"What was I supposed to do?" I snapped. "Tell them I'm their son's real lover?"
Dre groaned. "Damn, man."
I rubbed my face, feeling exhausted just thinking about it. "And then his fiancée, she suggested I cook a local Korean dish for everyone."
Dre raised an eyebrow. "Wait... she did that on purpose, didn't she?"
"Of course, she did." I exhaled sharply. "And Wang's mom agreed. So I had to stand there, pretending like I wanted to cook for them."
Dre shook his head. "That's cold."
I swallowed, staring at the whiskey in my hands. "The worst part wasn't even the dinner. It was before."
Dre watched me carefully. "What happened?"
I hesitated, but the words spilled out anyway. "His mom told Wang—right in front of me—that whatever is between us better be a fling and nothing more. That when he leaves Jeju, he needs to leave me behind."
Dre's jaw tightened. "And Wang? What did he do?"
I let out a humorless laugh. "He looked shocked. Hurt, even. But he didn't argue with her. He didn't say anything."
Dre stayed quiet for a moment before sighing. "That's rough."
"Yeah," I muttered.
He took another sip of his drink. "And then?"
"Then his fiancée walked in like she owned the place, wearing some tiny dress that had no business being at a family dinner. She sat down, acted like nothing was wrong, and started eating."
Dre scoffed. "She knows what she's doing."
"She does," I agreed. "And Wang's parents love her."
I ran a hand through my hair. "After dinner, I cleaned everything up, thanked them, and left. Wang Offered to drive me home, but I told him no."
Dre frowned. "Why?"
"Because I can't keep doing this," I admitted, my voice tight. "I can't sit there, watching him play the perfect son while they decide his whole life for him, watching him pretend like he doesn't love me."
Dre sighed, setting his glass down. "So what now?"
I shook my head. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I hate this."
Dre didn't say anything for a while. Then he reached for the bottle, poured us both another drink, and lifted his glass.
"Then let's drink to figuring it out."
I clinked my glass against him, even though I wasn't sure if there was anything left to figure out. Because in the end, I was just waiting for the inevitable.
Dre cranked up the music, and before I knew it, we were deep into a heartbreak karaoke session.
The first song that played was an old classic, one of those gut-wrenching ballads about loving someone you can't have. Dre threw his arm around my shoulders, swaying dramatically as he belted out the lyrics.
I scoffed but took the mic anyway. If I was going to be miserable, I might as well sing about it.
One song turned into two, then three. We took turns screaming out the most depressing love songs we could find, dancing around like fools, letting the alcohol make us lighter than we felt.
At some point, I collapsed onto the couch, breathless from laughing at Dre's terrible dance moves. "I think we just broke my heart twice with that last song," I muttered, rubbing my face.
Dre flopped down next to me, chuckling. "Good. Maybe now you'll finally let go of Wang."
I didn't reply.
The room was still spinning slightly when my stomach let out a loud growl. Dre's boyfriend, who had been quietly enjoying our ridiculous performance, smirked.
"Looks like someone's hungry," he teased.
I groaned. "I am starving."
Dre nudged his boyfriend. "Babe, be a hero. Get us some food."
His boyfriend sighed but grabbed his coat. "Fine, but you owe me," he said, pointing at us. "Both of you."
"Yes, yes, our eternal gratitude," Dre waved him off.
When the door shut behind him, I leaned my head back and sighed. The alcohol had dulled the pain, but the ache in my chest was still there, buried under layers of laughter and whiskey.
Dre nudged me. "Feeling better?"
I exhaled. "For now."
He hummed, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "Then let's keep it that way for tonight."
And for the first time in hours, I wanted to.
15 minutes later, the door swung open, and Dre's boyfriend stepped inside, carrying bags of food. But right behind him, was Wang.
I froze. "Wang?"
He barely had time to react before I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. He felt warm, steady—familiar.
"Where did you see him?" I asked, pulling back slightly to look at Dre's boyfriend.
"I called and told him you were here," he replied with a shrug, setting the food down.
I blinked. "Uhmm..." I didn't know what to say, so I sat back down, grabbed one of the food packs, and dug in. The hunger won over the confusion.
Wang just stood there, watching me. He didn't say anything, didn't even move to grab food. Just looked at me with that unreadable expression of his.
I ignored it, focusing on eating. The food was warm and comforting, even if my appetite wasn't fully there.
When I finally finished, I set the empty pack aside and sighed in satisfaction. That's when Wang exhaled deeply, his hands in his pockets.
"Can we talk now?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
I wiped my hands on a napkin and nodded. "Yeah."
Dre exchanged a glance with his boyfriend before standing. "We'll give you two some space," he said, dragging his boyfriend along as they left the living room.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving just me and Wang in the silence.
"I miss you," Wang huffed, sitting beside me and pulling me close.
I didn't say anything. I just leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into me, letting the moment between us.
His arms tightened around me, his breath warm against my neck. "I hate this," he murmured. "I hate that you left like that. I hate that I couldn't say anything."
I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. "What was there to say, Wang?" My voice was softer than I intended, almost tired. "Your mom made it clear where I stand. Where we stand."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his fingers ghosting over my jaw. "That's not true."
I scoffed. "Isn't it?"
His grip on me tightened. "I don't care what they say, Zhan."
I shook my head. "You do care. You've always cared."
Wang exhaled sharply, shifting back, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't know what you want me to do."
"I don't want you to do anything," I admitted. "Because, in the end, you're still going to marry her, Wang. You're still going to leave."
His jaw clenched, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn't.
Instead, he just whispered, "I don't want to lose you."
I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "You already are."
"Come with me," Wang says, his voice firm yet pleading.
"As your chef?" I ask, forcing a chuckle, though my heart pounds.
"No, no." He shakes his head. "I'll only be married on paper. My heart belongs to you."
I move back, crossing my arms. "I can't do that, Wang," I huff.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Why not?" Wang says, his voice softer this time, almost desperate.
"Because it's not fair," I said, looking up at him. "Not to me. Not to her. Not even to you."
Wang shook his head. "She knows what this is. It's just a business arrangement, Zhan. It means nothing."
"But I mean something," I shot back. "We mean something."
His eyes darkened with emotion. "You do. You always have."
"Then don't ask me to sit in the shadows," I huffed, crossing my arms. "I can't be the person you hide behind closed doors while the rest of the world sees you with her."
Wang moves closer, his hands reaching for mine, but I pulled away. "Zhan, please—"
I looked at him, really looked at him—the man I had given my heart to, the man who had already promised his future to someone else.
"Because it's not enough," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
Wang took a step closer. "Zhan—"
I shook my head, cutting him off. "I know what I signed up for, Wang. I knew from the start you were engaged. I knew this day would come." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "But that doesn't mean it hurts any less."
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I love you," he said, like that would change everything.
I let out a sad laugh. "I know that. And I love you too. But love isn't always enough, is it?"
His face twisted in frustration. "It should be."
"But it's not," I whispered. "Not when you have a whole life waiting for you outside of this. Not when you'll wake up every day next to someone else, even if it's just on paper."
Wang reached for me again, but I stepped back, shaking my head. "I can't be that person. I can't be the one waiting in the shadows while the rest of the world thinks you belong to someone else."
His eyes burned with emotion, his lips parting like he wanted to argue. But what was there to say?
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said, my voice barely holding steady. "Not until you leave."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, Wang exhaled shakily, his shoulders dropping in defeat.
"Zhan..."
I turned my face before he could say anything else, before I could change my mind.
"Just stay tonight," I said instead. "No talking. No thinking. Just us."
Because if this was all we had left, I wanted to hold on for just a little longer.