Say It Straight

"What are the odds of running into you here? I came to meet a friend for dinner — what brought *you* here?"

Yun-seul knew now what she had once mistaken for fate was nothing but a staged performance, one so repulsive it made her skin crawl. Tae-kyung, it seemed, was still determined to insist that the stalking he'd engineered through a location-tracking app was mere coincidence.

"Seul-ah, since we've run into each other, could we talk for a minute?"

Tae-kyung, acting for all he was worth, tried to stealthily seize her small hand — but Yun-seul withdrew it faster.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Please, just give me a chance to apologize. Yun-seul-ah, I can barely hold on anymore."

"Stop it."

At the ice-cold look in her eyes, Tae-kyung flinched. Her unshakable composure only made him that much more frantic.

"I can't live without you."

"I've already forgotten everything."

"Be reasonable, Yun-seul-ah..."

Tears welled up in Tae-kyung's eyes. At the tears he dredged up whenever he needed them, Yun-seul barely suppressed the scoff that threatened to burst out of her.

"From now on, even if we bump into each other, pretend you don't know me. I'm asking you nicely."

"Yun-seul-ah, wait—!"

She turned her back on him without a second's hesitation, and the desperate Tae-kyung lunged forward in a single stride, snatching her wrist in a crushing grip. It was a rough, brutal hold, nothing like the cautious way he had been tiptoeing around her moments before.

"Let go of me!"

"I just want to talk — do you really have to be this heartless? We were together for three years, you and me. And you'd throw all that away over one filthy misunderstanding?"

"I'm not trying to end it. It *already* ended. Stop wasting both our time."

"No. You still love me. You're just angry right now, that's why you're saying such cruel things—"

"No. I don't love you anymore. Not even a speck."

Her gaze gave not even a needle's width of room, and Tae-kyung's eyes wavered hopelessly. He had assumed that if he faced her and cried, she would play the softhearted one and forgive him. Wasn't he her first love? The smile she used to beam up at him, the steady warmth of her affection — all of it remained vivid in Tae-kyung's memory.

Which was exactly why he couldn't give up. He had to turn things around somehow.

Tae-kyung yanked Yun-seul roughly toward his car. She braced herself with all her strength, but she couldn't overpower the physical force of a grown man — and so she was dragged, helpless, all the way to his car. He opened the passenger door.

In that instant, terror crashed over Yun-seul: if she got into this car, she'd be dragged back to the psychiatric ward all over again.

"Let go! I said let go!"

She twisted and thrashed with everything she had — and just then, an enormous shadow fell over both their heads.

"AAAGH!"

A short scream tore from Tae-kyung's mouth, and in the same breath Yun-seul was freed from the brutal grip that had held her captive. She turned her head to see Lee Geon clutching Tae-kyung's wrist hard enough to snap it. He swiftly tucked Yun-seul behind his back.

"Ugh! Who the hell are you? What business is it of yours, butting into someone else's relationship?"

Tae-kyung bellowed, but Lee Geon didn't spare him so much as a glance. Head still turned away, he studied Yun-seul's condition, wholly and completely.

"Miss Min Yun-seul. Are you alright?"

At the familiar low voice, she nodded while catching her breath. Lee Geon asked, his eyes gone cold and still:

"Do you need help?"

Twice before, in the past, she had turned him down when he asked the very same question. But this time, without a moment's hesitation, she said to him:

"Yes. Help me."

"Understood."

Only then did Lee Geon turn his glacial face toward Tae-kyung. He wore the look of a man who had ample reason to interfere, since Yun-seul herself had asked him to.

"Yun-seul-ah, who the hell is this gangster bastard?"

Tae-kyung's face flushed red and mottled, caught between shame and pain. He tried to wrench his hand free, but it didn't budge an inch. Against that bone-crushing grip, all Tae-kyung could do was grit his teeth and choke back his screams. He absolutely refused to look pathetic in front of Yun-seul, wailing like a child.

"Let go! Let go of me! Stop showing off with your brute strength!"

"Coming from the man who showed off his strength against a woman first?"

When Tae-kyung glared at him, chewing on his lip, Lee Geon flung his wrist away as carelessly as a toy he'd finished playing with. Then he turned back to Yun-seul and spoke with perfect courtesy.

"Miss Writer. Let's have dinner somewhere else."

"Yes, Director."

Lee Geon wrapped a gentle arm around Yun-seul's shoulders, as if escorting a treasured guest, and steered her toward his own car's passenger seat. He held the door open for her and didn't close it until her seatbelt was fastened. Infinite softness when it came to Yun-seul — but the look Lee Geon leveled at Tae-kyung was utterly merciless.

Their eyes merely met for a second, and yet at that blade-cold gleam, Tae-kyung's whole body froze solid; he couldn't move a muscle. Instinct told him: this man was a born predator, the kind that pins its quarry down by nature.

Tae-kyung couldn't even shift his feet until the car carrying the two of them glided out of the parking lot.

"*Director*? Fuck! What the hell is going on!"

The man with that monstrous grip had driven off in a luxury sedan worth billions — leagues beyond Tae-kyung's own car — and his eyes rolled back halfway with rage. A suspicion began to worm its way in: perhaps the reason Yun-seul was being so coldly stubborn with him had something to do with that man.

A serene stillness filled the car as it glided along the road beneath the settling dusk. But Yun-seul's heart was at ease. She knew this silence was Lee Geon's deep consideration for her. At dinner, too, he hadn't pressed her with conversation — he had simply, quietly, given her time to steady herself. Having volunteered to see her home, once she was in the car he put on calm, gentle classical music.

When Yun-seul had fully settled, Lee Geon opened lightly:

"Can I ask what that was about earlier?"

Yun-seul gazed at the streaks of light sliding past the window and spoke flatly.

"My ex-boyfriend. We broke up recently, and since I refused to see him, he tracked me down here."

"How would he know to come here? That didn't look like a coincidence to me."

Lee Geon saw through the situation at a glance. It was that obvious to someone else's eyes... The realization that her past self, blinded by love, had failed to judge any of it rationally stung her to the bone.

"You're right. It wasn't a coincidence. He installed a location-tracking app on my phone."

"Is there a reason you haven't deleted it?"

"I still need it."

Lee Geon couldn't tell whether the "need" Yun-seul spoke of referred to the app — or to the man she called her ex. But either way, it didn't matter. When he'd seen that man forcing his hand around Yun-seul's wrist in the parking lot, the heavy fury and cold displeasure churning from the very bottom of his chest had been unmistakable.

"Do you know the most certain, cleanest way to get rid of an ex-boyfriend?"

"What is it?"

"Get a new one."

At the words that slipped out of Lee Geon's mouth, Yun-seul pressed her lips shut. She couldn't tell whether it was heartfelt advice or a light joke to ease the atmosphere, so she couldn't bring herself to answer rashly.

"Shall I do it?"

As they waited at a red light, Lee Geon turned his head and asked again.

"Should I... be your boyfriend, Miss Min Yun-seul?"

At a proposal she had never once imagined, Yun-seul just stared at him blankly. Then, the moment her gaze tangled with his in midair, she asked him a question of pure, unfiltered innocence.

"Why would you, Director?"

"For the management of my writer."

"Ah..."

Only then did the tension drain smoothly from Yun-seul's shoulders. She'd realized his words were a joke thrown out lightly. Then another thought flickered to life: maybe "writer management" carried a kernel of genuine concern after all.

"There will absolutely be no disruption to my writing over personal matters."

At the sudden, drill-sergeant sharpness in her voice, a small laugh broke across Lee Geon's lips. Since she had no idea what he was laughing at, Yun-seul could only roll her eyes back and forth.

A short while later, the car glided to a smooth stop in front of her building. The moment the engine died, Yun-seul readied herself to get out — but with a soft click, Lee Geon, who had unbuckled his seatbelt first, turned his body to look at her. The mere weight of his gaze was enough to change the density of the air between them.

Lee Geon slowly lifted his long, dark lashes and drew the corner of his mouth upward, unhurried. Then his voice, pitched low, flowed against her ear like a feather-light tickle.

"Shall I be honest, then? That I'm making a move on you, Miss Min Yun-seul."