His eyes, wide and disbelieving, were locked onto mine. The shock was palpable, a raw wound opening between us. "B-break up...?" he stammered, his voice thin, almost like a whisper. "What are you talking about...?"
A part of me, a small, forgotten part, wanted to reach out, to smooth the furrow in his brow, to erase the sudden, terrible pain I had inflicted. But I couldn't. Not now. I had to see this through.
He then accused, his voice gaining a desperate edge, "What could Director Park have said to make you want to break up with me?"
Director Park. Always Director Park. He always assumed there was some puppet master pulling my strings, never truly believing I could make such a decision on my own. It grated on me, fueling the cold resolve I desperately needed.
I watched him, his mind clearly racing, trying to find an external reason, anything but the truth. He started to say, "I get that you're angry—"
I cut him off, my voice steady, betraying none of the internal tremors. "The press will blow up with articles that label me as, 'off the market.'" I explained, the words clipped and pragmatic. "Do you really expect me to sit around and twiddle my thumbs until you're discharged?"
His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He had no response. His silence was a familiar pattern – an inability to grasp the harsh realities of my world, the constant calculations, the sacrifices.
"How...?" he finally managed, his voice barely audible. "How could you become a completely different person overnight...?"
The question stung, though I refused to show it. Different? No, this was the real me, the one who navigated a ruthless industry, who made impossible choices to survive. The person he knew was a luxury I couldn't afford right now.
"Do you not like me now because I'm not the person you assumed I was?" he continued, a flicker of genuine hurt in his eyes.
I took a slow sip from my ceramic mug, allowing the bitter coffee to coat my tongue, mirroring the taste in my mouth. My eyes, half-lidded, met his. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to soften, to recant, to be the docile, apologetic woman he thought he knew.
A small, cynical smile touched my lips. "Would it be better if I smiled prettily and asked you to kindly break up with me instead?" I asked, my tone dripping with irony. My hand instinctively went to my ear, tracing the delicate curve of my rose earring.
He just stared, utterly bewildered. I pressed on, my voice dropping to a near whisper, imbued with a plea I didn't want him to mistake for weakness.
"Then will you let me go?"
He turned away from me then, a sharp, decisive movement that felt like a physical wrenching. I watched his back, the rigid set of his shoulders. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
After a long moment, he spoke, his voice hoarse. "To be honest, you don't seem okay right now." He paused, then continued, "You've lost control of your emotions and your 'plan' to retire is completely impulsive."
His words struck a nerve. Impulsive? He truly had no idea what I was facing, the monumental pressures that had led me to this precipice.
"Wake up," he urged, his voice filled with a desperate intensity. "You lost a lot of fans while dating me..."
He continued, his voice rising, "What could Director Park have said to make you want to break up with me? I get that you're angry, but I don't know where this is coming from! Who are you?" His tone shifted, becoming accusatory. "I could ask you the same thing. Are you the man I used to know?"
And then, the ultimate question, laced with hurt and confusion, "And you want to get married?"
I exhaled slowly. This was it. The final card. The unpalatable truth that he, in his idealistic bubble, couldn't possibly comprehend.
"That's rich," I stated, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "You're enlisting soon, aren't you? Then what happens to me?"
I met his gaze, my eyes unwavering. It was harsh, pragmatic, perhaps even cruel. But it was my reality. His departure meant a gaping void in my life, both personal and professional. He had his path, a defined future, while mine was an uncertain tightrope walk. My eyes closed briefly, a silent acknowledgment of the pain, before opening again, resolute and cold.
I watched the initial shock on his face morph into a raw, desperate confusion. He looked utterly broken, the sight of which should have pleased the cold, pragmatic part of me, but instead, it twisted something deep in my chest.
"B-break up...?" he stammered, his eyes wide. "What are you talking about...?"
He wouldn't accept the simplest answer, of course. He had to find a conspiracy. "What could Director Park have said to make you want to break up with me? I get that you're angry, but I don't know where this is coming from! Who are you?" His voice was rising now, trembling with betrayal. "I could ask you the same thing. Are you the man I used to know?"
I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let the accusations crack my resolve.
"To be honest, you don't seem okay right now," he insisted, leaning forward. "You've lost control of your emotions and your 'plan' to retire is completely impulsive. Wake up. You lost a lot of fans while dating me..." He trailed off, giving me a moment that I used to deliver the harsh, calculated reality.
"The press will blow up with articles that label me as, 'off the market.' Do you really expect me to sit around and twiddle my thumbs until you're discharged?"
His jaw dropped. "How...?" he whispered. "How could you become a completely different person overnight...? Do you not like me now because I'm not the person you assumed I was?"
I took a slow sip of my coffee, the heat doing little to thaw the ice I felt within. "Would it be better if I smiled prettily and asked you to kindly break up with me instead?" I asked, the irony a bitter seasoning on the moment. "Then will you let me go?"
His face contorted, a mix of hurt and rising anger. "And you want to get married?"
"That's rich," I scoffed, letting the words sting. "You're enlisting soon, aren't you? Then what happens to me?"
He turned away, his back rigid. "The Director has it out for me now. My back is against the cliff, In Kang..." He turned back, his voice thick with emotion. "We've been together for a year, Ajin! I thought I knew you... and I trusted you!!"
His eyes, wide and pleading, were full of unshed tears. "I can't believe this... I wish this was all just a dream..."
"I know all about people like you," I said, my voice hardening, a shield against his distress. He was walking away from the table now, trying to escape the conversation. "You can't stand it when people leave you. You can't handle a clean break. That's why I'm doing this."
He paused mid-step, his head down. "Why do I have to do that...?" he asked, a wounded sound.
"Yeah, we dated for a year. It wasn't a decade, or even five years. It was one year. You think you know me? That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?" I had to sever the connection completely, destroy the memory of the woman he thought I was.
He slammed his fist on the back of his chair, the sound echoing in the room. "You know what I'm going through, so why can't you step into my shoes for a minute?! That's why I dreamed of a future with you! Is that so wrong?!"
I saw the welling tears, the absolute despair on his face, but I pushed on. "I'll ask a journalist I know to publish an article about our break up at the right time... We could say that we grew apart because I got too busy."
He shook his head, looking utterly lost. I felt a fleeting pang of guilt, but it was nothing compared to the necessity of the moment. "See? Even when I tell you the truth, you don't want to listen." I sighed, a gesture of exasperation I hoped would feel dismissive. "Compared to your ex who cheated on you, I'm nowhere near the nightmare you're making me out to be. Stop making such a huge deal out of this."
He slumped forward, his hands on his knees, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He looked so defeated, so utterly broken.
"Sigh," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Please... leave. I have nothing left to say to you."
The silence that followed was the sound of a door closing forever.
I stood at the door, pulling the coat back up onto my shoulders. The air in the apartment felt dead. My ex stood with his back to me, hunched over, silently reeling from the wounds I'd inflicted.
"I'll tell Ms. Seo..." I said, my voice softer now that the necessary cruelty was over. Ms. Seo was his manager, the one who handled the logistics of his life. I needed to ensure a clean transition. "I'll talk to her so you just try to get some sleep..."
He didn't respond, just lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture of utter defeat. It was the only sliver of mercy I could afford him—delegating the immediate, painful paperwork of their separation.
I turned and walked out. The "DING" of the elevator arriving felt like a gunshot. The doors "SLIDE" open, and I stepped into the cool, polished metal box, my heels clicking on the floor. I pressed the downward button.
The second the elevator doors closed, I pulled my phone out of my handbag. The transition from grieving partner to ruthless CEO was instantaneous. I put the phone to my ear, waiting for the connection.
"It's me, Mr. Lim," I stated as soon as he picked up. Mr. Lim, my trusted legal and media contact, sounded groggy.
"What do you want? It's late..." he grumbled.
"I think it's about time we put an end to our deal," I replied, my voice brisk and businesslike. No time for pleasantries.
"Don't tell me you're really going to marry In Kang Heo..." he asked, a note of alarm in his voice.
I let out a small, tired laugh. "Actually, it's the opposite."
"The opposite?"
The elevator slowed, its mechanism giving a soft "WHIRRR" sound as it descended. I looked at my reflection in the polished steel doors—the stark white coat, the dark, serious expression. This was where I belonged.
"Please prepare... an article... about our break up, Mr. Lim," I finished. The whirring sound of the descending elevator seemed to underscore the sudden shift in my focus. It was done. The personal life was filed away, and the business life was back on top.
C.E.O. Dohyeok Mun: Record Success
Later, the article about me was plastered on news sites and my social media feeds:
THE SECRET BEHIND THE SUCCESS OF WOMAN OWNED COMPANY
C.E.O. Dohyeok Mun
Fashion Industry Giant, Dohyeok Mun, Brings in Record Amounts in Sales
A women's shoes brand with a focus on European aesthetic, Croshoe, has hit record sales after launching. They previously set a new record last December, and have created ripples in the industry yet again. Dohyeok Mun previously served as the CEO of a men's outdoor clothing brand and famously brought them into the black. Not only did she successfully launch the brand domestically, but she has also managed...
...
She's Trying To Throw Off The Label of 'CEO'
A lot of people call me a workaholic. But there's nothing I can do about that. No matter what background you come from, this industry is extremely competitive. Every mistake will lead to being outpaced. To be honest, I've always...
I set my phone down. The article was exactly what I needed—a redirection. The breakup would be swept away by a tidal wave of success stories and business features. People forget gossip quickly when there is money and power to talk about. The personal nightmare was now officially superseded by the professional victory.
The soft light of the office monitor illuminated my face as I scrolled through the latest news. I was engrossed in an article about Dohyeok Mun—the woman who had caused so much trouble.
"She's amazing... She comes from a rich family, but she's quite young," I murmured to myself, captivated by her interview. I stopped at a section titled, "Her Divorce and Her Newfound Perspective."
"Wow, I'm not even jealous," I admitted. "The way she talks about her divorce really humanizes her." She presented herself as strong, a survivor, making calculated, difficult choices to secure her future. "I should save this interview... I wonder if there are any more interviews with her."
A headline caught my eye, replacing the business article. My hand froze over the mouse, and I looked closer.
"HUH...?"
The black headline on the screen was a jolt of cold reality:
AJIN BAEK MAKES OFFICIAL STATEMENT ABOUT BREAK UP WITH IN KANG HEO AND CLAIMS BUSY SCHEDULE CONTRIBUTED TO THEIR SPLIT
Then another one flashed:
AJIN AND IN KANG SPLIT, THEY'VE DECIDED TO REMAIN CLOSE FRIENDS
I shot upright in my chair, the shock hitting me like a physical "JOLT." "W-WAIT, W-WHAT?!" My mind scrambled to reconcile the clean, professional announcement with the tearful wreck I had last seen. "But everything seemed perfectly fine even a few days ago...!"
I immediately snatched up my phone, my fingers flying over the keypad. The phone rang, a persistent "RRRRING" in the quiet office, but In Kang didn't pick up.
"Why isn't he picking up?!" I muttered, panic rising. I knew his pattern. "Is he drinking himself into oblivion like last time when he broke up with Rena Lim?!"
I forced myself to calm down, running a hand through my hair. "He's probably holding up okay. I could just be overreacting..."
But the memory of their last relationship crisis, and the news headlines about this one, wouldn't let me rest.
"NO, NO." This felt different, worse. I reread the news. "No... That was a really rough break up. She cheated on him and put all the blame on In Kang." The official statement claiming "busy schedules" was a clean, calculated lie—a ruthless PR move.
I held the phone tighter, my heart pounding. "It hasn't been long since Grandma passed away, and now this..." The thought of him, alone and grieving, mixed with this sudden, brutal breakup, was terrifying. I tried calling again, only to be met with the sterile, automated voice: "THE PERSON YOU HAVE DIALED IS UNAVAILABLE AT THE MOMENT..."
My knuckles were white as I clutched the phone. "THIS MIGHT BE EVEN WORSE THAN LAST TIME!!"
I jumped out of my chair, the movement urgent and clumsy. I had to find him. I had to see him. I rushed out of the office, heading toward the parking garage. The tall, imposing steel and glass buildings of the city seemed to mock me with their cold indifference.
I heard the sound of a vehicle rapidly approaching, its horn blaring a desperate, frantic "BEEP BEEP BEEP."
My foot hit the accelerator. There was no time to lose.
"BURST"
I needed to find In Kang! I just hoped I wasn't already too late.
I drove recklessly, the city's towering skyline blurring above me. The car's horn blared in a frantic rhythm—"BEEP BEEP BEEP"—as I cut through traffic. The anxiety was a physical weight in my chest.
How long has it been since he last yelled at me like that...? I thought, remembering the last time In Kang had completely shut down. This isn't good... It always takes him a long time to come back from a big break down like that.
He had lost his grandmother, and now this. I punched the steering wheel, furious at Ajin Baek's timing and my own helplessness. What could it have been...? This is terrible timing too... Damn it, it's not like I can do anything about it either...
In Kang's Apartment
I found his door unlocked and burst inside. The sight that greeted me made my stomach turn.
The small apartment was a mess. Empty cans of alcohol were strewn across the floor and the low table, some dripping dark liquid onto the carpet. In Kang sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, a fresh can of something dark clutched in his hand.
"INKANG—!" I cried out, rushing toward him, accidentally kicking a rolling can. The name echoed in the stale air.
"Oh my god... how much have you had to drink?!"
He didn't look up, just took a sip from the can. He looked utterly vacant, his red hair a messy halo around his pale face. "Go away..." he mumbled.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?!" I demanded, standing over him, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "This isn't okay! Why do you do this to yourself every time you break up with someone?!"
He finally lifted his head, his eyes heavy. "Can we talk later? I'm exhausted. Just go, please." He didn't have the energy to fight, only to disappear.
I refused to back down. I knelt, ignoring the cold floor and the scattered debris.
"INKANG..." I began, my voice softening with concern, then firming up with my need for an explanation. "Why did you two break up anyways? Judging by the article and official statement, it sounds like she's trying to really distance herself from you. What the hell happened between you two? Even just a few days ago—"
Before I could finish, his head snapped up, and the look of exhaustion was replaced by raw, visceral rage. He threw the can against the far wall with a clang.
"DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?! I SAID, GO AWAY!!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and broken. "GET OUT!! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!"
I froze, shocked into silence. The last time he'd let loose like that, he'd ended up in the hospital. I looked at his eyes, wild with despair and intoxication.
"INKANG..." I repeated, softer now, pleading.
He turned his back to me, hunching over his knees. "My head is a mess..." he choked out. "Will you please go away, Inmo? I want to be alone."
I stood up slowly, knowing I couldn't force him to talk, not like this. But I couldn't leave him completely alone either. I swallowed my frustration and desperation, trying a final plea.
"I'm begging you..." I whispered, hoping he could hear the fear beneath the frustration. I just wanted him to know someone was there, even if he couldn't accept it right now.
I stood over him for another moment, listening to his ragged breathing, before I backed away toward the door. I wouldn't leave, not really. I'd just move to the living room, or the hallway, somewhere nearby. He needed me, even if his broken mind couldn't admit it.
I drove recklessly through the city, the "BEEP BEEP BEEP" of my horn echoing the frantic beat of my heart. The towering buildings seemed to watch me with cold indifference as I raced towards In Kang's apartment.
How long has it been since he last yelled at me like that...? I thought, the memory of his last breakdown sharp in my mind. This isn't good... It always takes him a long time to come back from a big breakdown like that. My mind churned with frustration and worry. What could it have been...? This is terrible timing too... Damn it, it's not like I can do anything about it either...
At In Kang's Apartment
I burst into In Kang's apartment, finding him amidst a sea of empty cans.
"INKANG—!" I cried, the sight gut-wrenching. "Oh my god... how much have you had to drink?!"
His vacant eyes turned to me. "Go away..." he mumbled, clutching a can.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?!" I demanded, my voice raw with concern. "This isn't okay! Why do you do this to yourself every time you break up with someone?!"
He recoiled. "Can we talk later? I'm exhausted. Just go, please."
I knelt, desperate. "INKANG..." I pleaded. "Why did you two break up anyways? Judging by the article and official statement, it sounds like she's trying to really distance herself from you. What the hell happened between you two? Even just a few days ago—"
He exploded, throwing the can across the room. "DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?! I SAID, GO AWAY!! GET OUT!! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!"
I flinched back, the aggression hitting me like a physical blow. "INKANG..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He turned away, hunched over. "My head is a mess..." he muttered. "Will you please go away, Inmo? I want to be alone."
I stood slowly, defeated for now. "I'm begging you..." I said, knowing it was useless. I couldn't force him to accept my help. I backed out of the room, careful not to make any sudden movements, and closed the door softly behind me. I wouldn't leave the apartment, not completely. I'd just sit in the living room, keeping a silent vigil.
The Next Morning
The dull ache of worry hadn't faded, but the need to earn a living was a harsh master. I found myself in my car, staring up at the sleek, modern architecture of a commercial building. My phone vibrated with an incoming call, a brief "BZZZZ" breaking the silence.
"Hey, what's up...?" I answered, trying to sound normal.
It was my manager. "You're going out to do market research today, right? You know that mall across from the cafe we like to hang out at? I heard there's a lot of vacancies there because a ton of leases are expiring."
He chuckled. "I heard and was about to go there to take a look. Remember to pick up a brochure while you're there! Oh, and get me a coffee, will you? Hehe..."
"Bye..." I murmured, ending the call.
I sighed, running a hand over my tired eyes. Market research. Coffee. The mundane tasks of life, even when my best friend was in pieces.
I pulled into the mall parking lot. The place was bustling, full of people. I made my way inside, observing the vacant storefronts and the 'for lease' signs.
I think I've seen enough... I decided after a while. I had what I needed. I'll pick up the coffee on my way back to the office. Oh, maybe I'll stop by at the washroom before I head out.
The thought of In Kang, still holed up and broken, was a heavy weight on my conscience. Even as I performed my duties, a part of me was always back in that messy apartment, wishing I could do more.
I had completed my market research, brochure in hand, and was heading back to the office, the weight of In Kang's breakdown heavy on my mind. I decided to use the washroom before leaving the mall. The need for coffee for my manager was the last item on my mental checklist.
I think I've seen enough... I thought, looking around the bustling mall, noting the vacancies I was sent to document.
I turned toward the men's room, my head down, still calculating the empty storefront percentages. Then, I stopped dead. A man stood just a few feet away, talking on his phone.
"No, I have to go now. I need to get back to the office soon," he was saying.
My blood ran cold. The man was dressed in a pristine suit, radiating an air of untouchable professionalism. He was none other than Director Park. The very man In Kang had mentioned as having "it out for him".
"Yes, I'm heading back... I'm at the washroom right now," he continued, oblivious to me.
I ducked behind a nearby pillar, my heart hammering against my ribs. I couldn't let him see me. I didn't want him to connect me to In Kang, not when everything was exploding around my friend.
Director Park was the cause of all this, I realized. This ruthless corporate snake.
Suddenly, a woman's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear.
"Hello, Director Park," she said.
I risked a peek around the pillar. Standing next to Director Park, dressed in an immaculate white suit that seemed to glow in the fluorescent mall light, was Ajin Baek.
Ajin?
"Why are you here?" Director Park asked, his tone suddenly guarded.
Ajin smiled, a cold, practiced gesture that didn't reach her eyes. "I had an appointment with a journalist here. They're doing an exclusive feature on my company, Croshoe," she explained.
Director Park looked her up and down, skepticism in his eyes. "You're trying to throw off the label of 'CEO', yet you're giving an interview about your success?"
"I'll be honest, Director," she replied, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial level. "I'm getting kind of tired of the press only focusing on my divorce and my ex-fiancé."
She stepped closer to him, her eyes flicking toward the spot where I was hidden. I held my breath, shrinking further into the shadow of the pillar.
"Plus," she added, her voice chillingly casual, "it's always smart to have a counter-narrative ready."
She gave a small, dismissive wave of her hand. "I have to run. I'm late for the next interview."
As she walked away, a newspaper headline was clearly visible on the large digital billboard above the mall entrance, the same one I'd seen earlier: CEO DOHYEOK MUN (Ajin's other name) BRINGS IN RECORD AMOUNTS IN SALES.
I watched them both walk away, paralyzed. My mind raced. Ajin Baek was not just breaking up with In Kang; she was plotting. She was coordinating her public image to systematically erase him from her narrative, using her professional success as a shield. And now she was clearly dealing with Director Park, the man who was actively trying to destroy In Kang's career.
This wasn't a messy breakup—it was a calculated demolition.