The convenience store buzzed with the familiar hum of fluorescent lights and the gentle whoosh of the automatic doors, costumers wondered through the aisles, their footsteps a rhythmic shuffle against the tiled floor, the soft chime of the register punctuated the steady flow of transactions.

"Oh god, finally, part-time is over! I should get going now. Uncle must be waiting for me," Ji-won muttered to himself as he clocked out.

Ji-Won waved his hand to Hye-Rin, offering her a warm smile before pushing open the glass door of the store. As he stepped outside, he walked over to the small spot where his bike was parked, bending down to unchain it. He felt the cool breeze brushing against his face and tousling his hair as he began riding home.

As he pedaled, his thoughts drifted, and he found himself considering that maybe it was finally time to enroll in college. After high school, Ji-Won had decided to put off college for a while to earn enough for his tuition fees. Though life had been tough, he was deeply grateful to his Uncle Baek for taking care of him since that bitterly cold winter night when he was picked up.

Ji-Won glanced up at the sky, his expression softening as he remembered those early days. His gratitude was not just for the shelter and meals but for the sense of family and belonging that his uncle had provided. He knew he owed it to himself and his uncle to pursue his dreams.

When Ji-Won finally returned to the café, he quickly rushed upstairs to get ready for dinner “This time, I’m going to make it happen,” he thought to himself, setting the table. Ji-Won was more certain than ever that he would put his full effort into enrolling for the next school year.

Uncle Baek walked into the cozy kitchen of their small apartment above the café, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Ji-Won busy at the stove. "What did my Won-won cook for dinner?" he asked with a teasing smile, his voice filled with affection.

Ji-Won looked up and returned the smile, warmth evident in his eyes. "Hurry up and wash up, Uncle, so we can eat," he replied gently, setting the last dish on the table.

After Uncle Baek finished washing his hands with quick, practiced movements, they both sat down at the small kitchen table. The soft clinking of cutlery and the rich aroma of the home-cooked meal enveloped the room, creating a comforting, intimate atmosphere. Ji-Won took a moment to appreciate the scene—a humble dinner shared with someone who truly cared for him. The warmth wasn’t just from the food; it was from the connection between them, something deeper that made him feel at home.

Between bites, they exchanged stories of their day. Ji-Won chuckled as Uncle Baek animatedly recounted a small mishap in the café, where Byeong-Ho had nearly dropped a tray of drinks. In turn, Ji-Won shared his own lighter moments, the two laughing together, letting the small joys of their day bind them even closer.

Uncle Baek smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Thank you for the delicious dinner, Won-won! You’re the best,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Ji-Won returned the smile, but his reply was casual, trying to deflect the praise. “You’re welcome, Uncle. By the way, Byeong-Ho said he’s having dinner with Hye-Rin tonight, so he’ll be home late.”

Uncle Baek gave a thoughtful nod, his expression softening as he glanced at Ji-Won. He set his fork down, his tone shifting to one of gentle concern. “What’s your plan?” he asked, his words carrying a weight that Ji-Won instantly recognized.

Ji-Won’s smile faltered for a split second, but he quickly masked it, scratching the back of his head with a feigned cluelessness. “Hmm? Plans?” he echoed, offering a broad, almost exaggerated smile to cover his discomfort.

Uncle Baek saw through it, raising a knowing eyebrow. “Yes, you know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice calm but firm. There was no judgment, only concern.

Ji-Won’s gaze dropped to his plate for a moment before he forced himself to meet his uncle’s eyes, a reassuring smile still lingering on his lips. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Uncle. I’ve got it under control,” he replied, trying to sound confident, though the slight tremor in his voice betrayed the uncertainty he felt. His mind was racing with thoughts of tuition, part-time jobs, and the weight of the future looming over him.

Uncle Baek held Ji-Won’s gaze for a moment longer, his eyes searching for any sign of the worry Ji-Won was hiding, but he let it go, choosing not to press further. Instead, they returned to lighter conversation, talking about the café, random news, and shared anecdotes that brought their laughter back to the table.

After dinner, Ji-Won immediately stood up, clearing the plates before Uncle Baek could protest. “I’ll do the dishes, Uncle. You go ahead and rest,” he insisted, flashing a quick grin as he moved to the sink.

Uncle Baek gave in with a tired chuckle. “Alright, alright, but don’t stay up too late,” he warned, a hint of fatherly affection in his voice as he headed off to his room.

Once Ji-Won finished cleaning up, the kitchen now silent and spotless, he retreated to his room. After a quick wash, he laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was dim, the faint hum of the night outside his only companion as his thoughts began to drift.

He couldn’t help but think of his Hyung—Youn-Jae. “Did he still remember me?” The question lingered in Ji-Won’s mind, heavy and unspoken. He wondered if Youn-Jae ever thought about finding him, if there was still a connection between them after all these years. Ji-Won’s eyes shifted to the wall, his expression softening as memories flooded his mind—memories of his childhood with Youn-Jae and the promise that they would never leave each other behind.

“What if… what if we could meet again?” The thought sparked both hope and fear in his chest, his fingers curling slightly against the blanket. A mixture of longing and uncertainty washed over him as he lay there, lost in the possibilities of their shared past and the unknown future.

Before he knew it, sleep began to pull him under. His heart still ached with the weight of what could have been, but somewhere deep down, a fragile hope remained—that they would be given another chance, that maybe, just maybe, they would find each other again.

As he slipped into unconsciousness, Ji-Won’s last thought was of Youn-Jae—his long-lost Hyung—and the faint hope that, wherever he was, Youn-Jae was thinking of him too.

***

It was a late Friday afternoon when Youn-Jae decided to go for a walk near his apartment. Dressed casually in a plain black T-shirt, shorts, a cap pulled low over his eyes, and shades that concealed most of his face, he savored the rare freedom of being away from his father’s constant surveillance. It felt less suffocating now.

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“Damn! I think I’m lost. What was I thinking, taking a walk?” Youn-Jae muttered under his breath, glancing at his watch with an irritated frown. The golden light of the late afternoon was already beginning to soften. “It’s getting late. Should I just call Secretary Min to pick me up?” he sighed, pulling out his phone.

As he tapped out a message to his secretary, Youn-Jae’s eyes swept over the street, searching for some sense of direction. Then, a small convenience store caught his eye. Deciding to wait there, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and headed toward the store. The chime of the door as he entered was followed by a blast of cold air that hit him like a wave, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

“Welcome, sir!” a cheerful voice rang out.

Youn-Jae’s eyes flicked toward the counter, and his breath caught for a moment. It was Ji-Won. His presence immediately grounded the room in an unexpected way. Youn-Jae blinked, taken aback. “So, this is where he works... I’ve been wrong the whole time”. He let the thought hang in the back of his mind, his expression cool and unreadable as he scanned the shelves. Youn-Jae grabbed a few random items and approached the counter. Ji-Won stood there, his bright smile unwavering,

“Your total is 3,000 won, sir,” Ji-Won said, his voice warm but a little cautious, almost as if trying to gauge the stranger in front of him. “He’s tall. I can’t see his face clearly with the cap and shades, but I bet he’s handsome” Ji-Won thought, trying to maintain his composure.

“Do you accept card payments?” Youn-Jae asked, his voice steady, calm, and detached, though there was a flicker of something hidden beneath that smooth exterior.

“Yes, that will do, sir,” Ji-Won replied with a nod, keeping his tone light and professional. His fingers brushed Youn-Jae’s as he took the card, a momentary jolt of awareness passing through both of them.

Just as the transaction finished, a voice cut through the store. “Won-won Oppa! Can you help me with this new delivery? It’s heavy,” Hye-Rin called out with excitement, practically bouncing over to the counter.

“Sure, I’m coming,” Ji-Won answered, stepping away from the register, his movements easy and fluid.

“Thank you, Oppa!” Hye-Rin grinned brightly, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

At the sound of Ji-Won’s nickname, Youn-Jae froze for a second, his lips curling into a subtle smirk. “So, that’s what they call him,” he mused, pushing the door open and stepping outside, though he didn’t leave. Instead, he took a seat in one of the plastic chairs nearby, cracking open the can of soda he’d just purchased. He took a slow sip, his eyes casually following Ji-Won’s movements through the glass, now busy helping with the delivery and offering customers his usual bright smiles.

"Guess I'm in the mood for something... different. “Youn-Jae muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair. His gaze lingered on Ji-Won, something unspoken bubbling beneath the surface—an interest, a curiosity he hadn’t anticipated.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, and he let out an exasperated sigh before answering. “Yes, Father?” His voice was flat, his earlier calm replaced with a layer of irritation.

“How’s your apartment? I told you to stay at the house. It’s more comfortable here,” his father’s authoritative voice boomed from the other end, every word a thinly veiled command.

“I’m all good, Father,” Youn-Jae replied, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, this ‘little vacation’ feels more like a break in the office, so it’s best I stay nearby.”

“You! Just make sure you’re not messing around,” his father warned, the irritation in his voice palpable.

“Oh, yes, Father. Don’t worry. I’ll be a good boy, as always,” Youn-Jae replied smoothly, his voice dripping with false obedience.

There was a brief pause before his father sighed. “Alright, I’ll hang up now,” he said, ending the call abruptly.

Youn-Jae lowered the phone from his ear and stared at it for a moment, his jaw tightening. He pocketed it with a practiced, controlled movement, leaning back once again in the chair. His expression was unreadable as he settled back into his quiet observation, watching Ji-Won from the corner of his eye.

Whatever this game was, Youn-Jae was just getting started and wasn’t ready to walk away from it yet.

***

In the grand mansion, a tense atmosphere filled the air as Seo-Joon faced off against his father. Having unexpectedly returned from America, he felt the weight of the Chairman's icy stare upon him. Seo-Joon’s heart raced with a mix of apprehension and defiance, a storm of emotions brewing within him, fueled by his complicated feelings toward his younger brother, Youn-Jae.

"What are you doing here?!" the Chairman snapped, slamming his book shut with a loud thud that echoed through the opulent room. His face twisted in anger, lips pressed into a thin line as his disappointment radiated from him.

Seo-Joon straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders defiantly. “Am I not allowed to come back home?” he retorted, his voice firm yet tinged with an edge of bitterness, his brow furrowing with frustration.

“Don’t you have enough work at the company? What are you doing wasting time here!? I don’t need you unless I call for you!” The Chairman’s tone was sharp, dismissing Seo-Joon's presence as if it were a mere annoyance.

Seo-Joon's frustration simmered just beneath the surface, and his jaw tightened as he met his father’s gaze, refusing to back down. “I don’t get it, Father. You let Youn-Jae come back here, but not me?” His voice quivered slightly, betraying the mix of hurt and anger he felt.

The rivalry between the brothers hung heavy in the air, thick with unresolved tension. Seo-Joon could feel the sting of perceived injustice; as the eldest son, he carried the weight of expectations. Yet, time and again, he witnessed his father’s preference for Youn-Jae, a wound that never healed. “Why him?” he thought, resentment bubbling as memories of the past replayed in his mind.

“Don’t you remember the mess you caused back then?” The Chairman’s voice cut through Seo-Joon’s thoughts, laced with contempt. “If you hadn’t run away on your wedding day, you wouldn’t be a disgrace to this family! If you weren’t my son, you wouldn’t enjoy this life of luxury! You disregarded everything I set up for you. You’re an embarrassment to me!” Each word was like a knife, aimed at Seo-Joon's heart.

The Chairman stormed off to his study, slamming the door behind him with a deafening bang that reverberated through the mansion. Seo-Joon stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides, rage coursing through him like wildfire.

“One day, Father, you’ll regret everything,” he thought bitterly, his eyes darkening as he glared at the closed door. “You’ll end up alone, with no one by your side.”

Moments later, Secretary Choi entered the study room with quiet resolve, his steps deliberate. He approached Seo-Joon, who had now assumed the role of Vice Chairman of Han Group, and leaned in, whispering urgent information in his ear.

“Is that so?” Seo-Joon replied, raising an eyebrow with mild interest, though his expression remained cold and calculating.

“Yes, Vice Chairman,” Secretary Choi confirmed, his voice steady yet respectful, aware of the volatile situation.

“Just keep an eye on him. We all know he likes to play around outside of business,” Seo-Joon instructed, his voice dripping with disdain. He turned his gaze toward the window, his thoughts already spiraling into plans, determination hardening his features as he thought of Youn-Jae. There was no room for mistakes; Seo-Joon was resolute in not allowing his father’s favoritism to go unchecked.

“Oh, by the way, how is he?” Seo-Joon asked, his tone sharp and impatient, casting a sidelong glance at Secretary Choi.

Secretary Choi hesitated, his expression clouded with unease. He spoke with a hint of worry, occasionally shaking his head in disappointment. “There have been some complications,” he relayed, clearly reluctant to deliver bad news.

“Why is everyone getting on my nerves today?” Seo-Joon muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, visibly agitated.

“I’m sorry, Vice Chairman,” Secretary Choi apologized, bowing slightly. “Once we return to America, I’ll make sure to handle it properly.”

Seo-Joon’s eyes narrowed as he turned back to Secretary Choi. “Keep a closer eye on that stubborn one as well,” he commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. “Make sure he doesn’t make any stupid decisions until the right time.”

Secretary Choi nodded, fully understanding the weight of Seo-Joon's words, and quickly exited the room, leaving Seo-Joon standing by the window, deep in thought, his mind racing with schemes and unresolved feelings toward Youn-Jae.

The story doesn't end here......