“Elisa called. Seems like she’s really not happy about Mr. Pittman’s new girlfriend. The mood’s bad—try to talk her down.”
[Me? You want me to do it?]
Emma asked in a pale voice. Yeonwoo replied firmly.
“That’s your job now. Might as well treat this as your initiation—this kind of thing will keep happening.”
She replied weakly with a “Yes.” He did feel a bit sorry for her, but there was no helping it. If he hadn’t quit, this would’ve been his headache again. Thinking of that made giving up the high salary feel like less of a loss.
[Thanks for calling ahead, Yeonwoo.]
Just then, the office phone rang in the background. It sounded like another secretary picked it up, and the tone that followed was purely businesslike—so it must’ve been a different call. After offering Emma a few last words of encouragement, he hung up.
By the time Yeonwoo got home, his mood had noticeably improved. It finally hit him—he had really quit. He’d find a new job, forget what happened that day. Time would take care of it all.
Thinking that, he cleaned out the fridge and cooked a simple pasta meal. He turned on the TV for the first time in a while, but there wasn’t much worth watching. He flipped through channels and let time pass with a cheap sitcom or some variety show. Not long after, he went to bed and fell asleep.
***
Ding-dong ding-dong. Ding-dong ding-dong.
The doorbell rang relentlessly, snapping Yeonwoo awake in an instant. It took him a few seconds to clear his head. He blinked blankly, still lying down. Even as he did, the bell kept shrieking.
“Wh-Who is it?”
His voice trembled on its own. The clock said it was well past midnight. No one should be here at this hour. Fear, for no clear reason, churned through his brain. He stood frozen in the living room, unable to move forward or back. Then, from behind the front door, a voice rang out—one he hadn't expected to hear.
“It’s me. Open the door.”
It was Keith.
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened in disbelief. No way. That was impossible. Keith, here? He must have misheard. Still half in doubt, he stood there motionless—until the voice came again.
“Open it. Now. Or I’ll break it down.”
The low, teeth-clenched voice was unmistakably Keith Knight Pittman’s. Even then, Yeonwoo hesitated, unable to believe it. Then suddenly, Keith began kicking the door.
Bang! Bang, bang!
The thunderous noise sent Yeonwoo into a panic. But he couldn’t just stand there. Keith was kicking the door like he really meant to bring it down. It wasn’t an idle threat. The triple locks—each tightly bolted—were starting to rattle. Yeonwoo shrieked.
“Wait! Wait, I’m opening it! I’m opening it, okay?!”
Repeating himself over and over, he scrambled to undo the locks. Even then, Keith didn’t stop kicking the door.
By the time Yeonwoo finally got it open, Keith was already bending his long leg back, ready to launch another kick. He stopped only when he saw Yeonwoo’s frozen face. He lowered his leg, and behind him, a few neighbors peeked out their doors to see what the commotion was. Embarrassed, Yeonwoo quickly stepped back.
“What the hell is this?”
Keith’s gaze fell on the chair Yeonwoo had placed to block the door. His face twisted with displeasure. Yeonwoo hurriedly picked it up and moved it to the living room. Only then did Keith step inside. Yeonwoo rushed in behind him and relocked all the bolts without leaving a single one undone.
When he turned around, his breath caught.
Keith was standing in the middle of the tiny living room. For some reason, seeing him there made the whole place feel suffocating. His distinct scent didn’t help either. Yeonwoo struggled to steady his breathing and motioned toward the chair.
“Please, have a seat.”
Should he offer tea? He glanced toward the kitchen, but Keith—still standing—looked around the apartment and suddenly asked,
“This is the whole place?”
Yeonwoo looked up instinctively. Keith’s face was twisted with a clear scowl as he asked again,
“This is the entryway, right? So where’s the living room?”
Yeonwoo was at a loss for words.
“…That was the entryway. And this is the living room.”
Keith turned his gaze away and slowly scanned the entire apartment again. The size of the place was such that he could take in all of it without even needing to walk around. That fact alone made Yeonwoo feel embarrassed. When Keith looked back at him, the crease in his brow had deepened.
“Why the hell are you living in a storage closet?”
He nearly blurted out I’m sorry, but then quickly remembered—he’d quit that damn job.
“This is the best I could afford on the salary Mr. Pittman pays.”
His voice was calm. Keith raised a single eyebrow slightly, then let it fall. Yeonwoo’s heart gave a small thud. In all his time working as Keith’s secretary, he had never once talked back. It felt satisfying—but the unfamiliarity of it also made him nervous.
Thankfully, Keith said nothing further. He simply sat down where Yeonwoo had indicated. At least Yeonwoo had spent big on that sofa—it was the one decent thing in the apartment.
Yeonwoo hovered in place, unsure. Fortunately, Keith didn’t tell him to sit. Instead, he dropped his face into his hands and let out a deep sigh.
“Was it you?”
“…Sorry?”
Yeonwoo blinked at the sudden question. Keith repeated it.
“Elisa. Did you talk to her?”
He wanted to lie. But if he did, someone in the secretary team would catch hell for it. He’d already left—what was there to lose?
“Yes.”
He admitted it bravely. Keith said nothing. Watching Keith curl in on himself like that made Yeonwoo want, for a split second, to mess up that perfect hair. He got lost in the thought and missed what Keith said next. Standing there dazed, he blinked when the words finally registered.
“I’ve never seen women fight like that before.”
He looked exhausted—but of course, that was just Yeonwoo’s illusion. When Keith ran a hand through his hair and raised his head, his face was full of irritation. He’d only taken that long because it had taken effort to suppress his temper. Yeonwoo wanted to ask what had happened—but restrained himself. He’d just look it up later.
“I’ve seen it plenty of times,” Yeonwoo replied evenly.
Keith stopped running his hand through his hair and looked at him.
“Women fought over you?”
The disbelief on his face was downright insulting. But Yeonwoo kept his expression blank and nodded.
“Yes. Very often.”
He didn’t mention that those women were his younger sisters. When Keith squinted at him suspiciously, Yeonwoo added dryly,
“It’s not just guys like you that get caught up in that kind of drama.”
To his surprise, Keith gave a short laugh. Yeonwoo faltered, caught off guard. Keith spoke casually.
“You’re not bad-looking. I just didn’t think you’d cause trouble with women.”
“Why not?”
Unable to resist, Yeonwoo asked. Keith answered without hesitation, like it was obvious.
“You’re boring.”
Apparently, Keith thought himself endlessly witty and charming. Yeonwoo wanted to tell him that wasn’t true in the slightest, but instead he took a breath and asked coolly,
“Is being promiscuous the same as being interesting?”
“It’s good to enjoy everything you can while you can.”
At least he didn’t deny being promiscuous. Yeonwoo took comfort in that much and asked something else.
“You’re an only child, right, Mr. Pittman?”
Keith raised his head.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He deflected the question, maybe without realizing it. Talking about responsibility as a firstborn wouldn’t mean anything to a guy like this, so Yeonwoo just shook his head.
“It’s nothing. So… what brings you here at this hour? Don’t tell me you ran away because you were scared of some women fighting.”
He added the last bit before he realized how snide it sounded. Keith narrowed his eyes—this time, no smile. Yeonwoo cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.
“Would you like some tea?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Yeonwoo remembered the cheap tea bags in the kitchen and was relieved when Keith declined. He figured the real reason Keith had come would come up soon—and it did.
“Five percent’s not happening.”
“…What?”
He blinked at the sudden statement. Keith leaned back on the sofa, stretching his long arms along the backrest.
“You said you wanted five percent of P Entertainment shares, right? That’s not gonna work. Name something else.”
“…?”
“Emma told me you said that.”
Only then did Yeonwoo remember what he’d said that day. A throwaway line—uttered without any real thought—and now it had come back like this. He stared down at Keith, dazed. Keith continued watching him, waiting for an answer with an almost unbelievable amount of patience.
“…Are you asking me to come back?”
“What else would it be?”
Keith’s reply was as biting as ever. Yeonwoo was dying to know what on earth had happened to bring this man all the way here to make that kind of offer. But he had the distinct feeling that if he asked, he’d be expected to agree. And there was no way someone like Keith would walk him through the events step-by-step with clear logic.
He’d just snap and tell him to shut up and answer.
Knowing that, Yeonwoo fought down the lava-like curiosity boiling inside and forced himself to sound calm.
“What if I say no?”
“You won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to make a very generous offer.”
Yeonwoo narrowed his eyes.
“Even if I insist on five percent?”
Keith fell silent for a moment, then sighed heavily. He rubbed his temple as if it physically hurt. It was a rare expression to see on him.
“Two hundred thousand shares.”
Yeonwoo froze at the low, gritted voice that finally came out. Keith looked up at him, his jaw tight.
“No more than that. Aside from that, name it—whatever you want.”
You.
The word surfaced in his throat, and he barely managed to bite it back. If he’d actually said that, Keith probably would’ve strangled him right then and there.
There were a lot of ways to kill yourself.
Yeonwoo took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. His dulled senses suddenly picked up the scent of pheromones—Keith’s. That’s when he realized the suppressant must be wearing off. He quickly pulled up his sleeve and covered his nose.
“That.”
“What?”
Keith genuinely sounded confused. Yeonwoo answered in a rush.
“The pheromones. Start with that, would you? If you want to hire me again, you’ll need to make damn sure I’m not constantly choking on your scent.”
His tone was sharp, but Keith said nothing. He only frowned slightly, barely visibly. Yeonwoo, still covering his nose, hurried across the living room and yanked open the window. A gust of city exhaust blew in. He closed it just as quickly.
The pointless gesture done, he returned to where he had been standing. Keith finally opened his mouth.
“That’s it?”
Yeonwoo looked up. Keith was asking offhandedly.
“That’s all you want? Nothing else?”
Yeonwoo hesitated. He’d sometimes fantasized about a genie in a lamp who would grant him wishes, but now that something similar had actually happened, he couldn’t think of anything. Keith was no genie. There were no limits on the number of wishes, but that didn’t mean he’d grant just anything. Yeonwoo took a breath. Maybe because of the fresh air, the pheromones felt less overwhelming. He lowered his sleeve from his face and replied.
“The shares thing—I was joking. Please forget I said it.”
Keith looked surprised.
“Even if it was a joke, it’s still a great opportunity.”
Yeonwoo answered coolly.
“Everything in life comes with a price. I don’t want to accept something too generous and regret it later. I also don’t want you thinking, ‘I gave that guy this much, so I’ve done enough.’ And if I got that much, I’d probably owe you even more. So be honest—when you made the offer, what were you planning to ask of me?”
Keith went quiet, then let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Ten-year contract.”
“Absolutely not.”
Yeonwoo cut him off with a dead-serious expression, then added,
“One-year contracts. Renewed annually. Compensation strictly based on the work I do.”
“Hah.”
Keith exhaled sharply, like air being let out of a balloon.
“So you’re saying you don’t want anything else?”
“No. But I do want a raise.”
Yeonwoo presented his condition.
“I took a lot of damage from your lewd party. And cleaning up after your scandalous personal life causes both mental and financial strain. As you’ve probably realized now.”
He’d deliberately chosen the most blunt and direct words he could. Then added meaningfully, just in case Keith missed it. Keith didn’t say anything. Yeonwoo knew he’d never get another chance to say this if he got rehired. Before he went back to bottling everything up, he’d decided to let out about thirty percent of what had built up inside him. That was the extent of what he wanted to demand from this man.
“If you want to rehire me, adjust the salary accordingly. One more thing—if there’s going to be another party, I want to know what kind of event it is in advance. I’ll step out and let a planner handle it. Those are my three conditions.”
“…That’s all?”
Keith visibly looked let down, like he’d been expecting something more outrageous. Yeonwoo had no idea what kind of fantasies this man had been cooking up, but he didn’t care to ask. He simply nodded. Keith spoke again, more slowly this time.
“When someone asks for too little, it makes me uneasy.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Feels like they’re trying to avoid responsibility.”
Yeonwoo winced internally. That was spot on—and there wasn’t much point in denying it.
“You’ll just have to be more careful this time so I don’t quit again.”
“You want me to cater to your mood?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Yeonwoo retreated immediately.
“I’m only asking for a little more consideration. Please don’t take it the wrong way.”
“And if I don’t, you’ll quit again?”
“Does anything in the world last forever?”
He threw the question back. Keith didn’t answer. Yeonwoo continued, sounding as indifferent as ever.
“Everything ends. You could fire me. Or maybe I’ll want to stay but can’t. For example, P Entertainment might go bankrupt.”
He quickly added,
“Of course, that’s just a hypothetical.”
Keith still didn’t respond. He only stared at Yeonwoo with an unreadable look. When he finally let out a quiet “Hah” and laughed, Yeonwoo flinched.
“With all that bottled up, I don’t know how you managed to hold it in this long.”
Yeonwoo answered honestly.
“Once I start working again, I’ll hold it in. So I’m enjoying it now while I can.”
“Hahaha.”
Keith let out a real laugh—sharp and loud. It was the first time Yeonwoo had ever seen him laugh so freely. He stared wide-eyed. Maybe Keith had smiled the first time they met, long ago. But this—this laughter—he’d never seen it before. At a loss for words, Yeonwoo could only watch. Keith finally stopped laughing and stood up from the couch. There was still a hint of amusement on his face. Yeonwoo stared at that bright expression, completely entranced.
Keith said something, but Yeonwoo didn’t catch it until a few seconds later.
“I’ll revise your salary, keep the pheromones in check, and tell you what the parties are for in advance. That enough?”
“…Yes.”
Yeonwoo barely managed a nod. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. True to his word, Keith had started suppressing his pheromones. There was no reason for Yeonwoo to be short of breath, but still his lungs struggled. Keith had been right—the living room really was too small. He’d only stood up from the couch, and already, the distance between them had vanished. Yeonwoo held his breath intentionally. Keith kept talking.
“…Then we’re done here. You’ll start again after the weekend.”
He must have been referring to the contract, salary, and other paperwork. Yeonwoo nodded, still too stunned to speak. Keith furrowed his brow. Just a moment ago, he’d been smiling. Yeonwoo, without thinking, felt a pang of regret—right before Keith suddenly stepped closer.
Their eyes met unexpectedly. Yeonwoo barely stopped himself from gasping. He dropped his gaze in a panic. Keith reached out and pressed a hand to the wall beside him, his voice edged with suspicion.
“What’s wrong? You feeling sick? Should I call 911?”
“N-No. I’m fine.”
Yeonwoo hurriedly denied it. But Keith wasn’t convinced.
“Your face is red. Do you have a fever?”
“I… I think I’m just coming down with a cold. I’ll be fine after some rest. It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
He scrambled to say something—anything. Would he believe it? Would he buy the excuse?
Nervously, Yeonwoo slowly looked up—and locked eyes with Keith again. His heart felt like it was going to burst. Leaning against the wall, Yeonwoo swallowed hard.
Keith’s eyes narrowed. Yeonwoo could only stare blankly at his face. None of this felt real. Keith—standing in his shabby little apartment, their bodies so close, his gaze locked on Yeonwoo, their lips drawing nearer.
This isn’t happening.
When their lips met, Yeonwoo closed his eyes and denied reality.