Chapter 5 Afterglow or Aftermath

The rooftop was silent, but Jun-park Dhan's heart wasn't.

It was pounding like a war drum beneath his ribs - not from fear, but from the terrifying stillness that came after falling. Because that's what this was, wasn't it?

He had fallen.

Into a kiss that should've never happened.

Into a boy who shouldn't have cared.

Into a moment that felt like the eye of a storm that was about to rip them apart.

Chi Suy-un's breath was warm against his cheek. Their foreheads were still pressed together, but reality was already clawing its way back in.

"I have to go," Jun whispered, not moving.

Chi didn't open his eyes. "I know."

They stood there a second longer - suspended between history and hope - before Jun finally stepped back.

No goodbye. No promises.

Just distance.

He slipped away like a shadow, disappearing down the stairwell, leaving Chi staring at a sky that suddenly felt too empty.

---

Thirty-two hours later, the entire city was watching the Suy-un empire unravel.

News helicopters circled Krown Media like vultures.

Daniel Suy-un had officially stepped down. The board had called an emergency session. Shareholders were panicking. And someone - no one knew who - had wiped the deepest vault of offshore accounts clean.

Jun knew exactly who.

It wasn't him.

It was Mina.

She had gone rogue.

> [MINA]: "You hesitated. I didn't."

Jun paced inside his new hideout - a nondescript high-rise in Gangnam, barely furnished, windows taped for surveillance.

> [JUN]: "You weren't supposed to launch yet."

[MINA]: "I saw the rooftop footage. He's in too deep. I had to burn the bridge for you."

Jun's stomach twisted.

Burn the bridge.

She didn't know.

That kiss - it hadn't been the end.

It had felt like the beginning.

And now, Chi was alone in a collapsing kingdom, under fire from the public, from investors... and from his own family.

Chi didn't sleep. Couldn't.

His name was plastered across headlines like blood on glass.

"Krown Heir Implicated in Father's Corporate Collapse"

"Chi Suy-un Allegedly Involved with Insider Threat"

"Secret Romance Behind Krown's Downfall?"

He stared at the article from one of the tabloids - a blurry rooftop photo.

His silhouette.

And beside it - Jun's.

Someone had seen them.

Someone had seen everything.

The door to his apartment buzzed violently.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He jumped.

Not police.

Not press.

Worse.

His uncle - Chairman Myung-ho Suy-un - stood in the hallway, eyes like razors, flanked by two security goons.

"Get dressed," he said. "You're coming with us."

Chi didn't argue.

He knew what this was.

Damage control.

---

The drive was quiet, cold. A black SUV with tinted windows. His uncle said nothing until they arrived at the private boardroom near Seoul Tower - Krown's off-record crisis command.

Inside: lawyers, PR handlers, his cousin Hae-won, and a silence that stretched tight as piano wire.

Uncle Myung-ho folded his hands.

"You will deny everything."

Chi's throat went dry. "Everything?"

"You were manipulated. Lied to. Framed. This... boy seduced you, infiltrated our company, and used you. You'll say that. Loudly. On camera."

Chi's blood went cold.

He knew what this was.

They were trying to erase Jun.

Again.

He stared down at the glass of water in front of him, hands trembling.

What they didn't know-what they couldn't know-was that Jun wasn't just some mission. He wasn't just a risk.

He was the first person who'd ever made Chi feel...

Real.

"Do we understand each other?" his uncle asked.

Chi lifted his gaze, hollow but burning.

"Yes," he lied.

---

Back in Gangnam, Jun was watching the press conference.

Chi stepped onto the podium.

Flashes exploded like gunfire.

He looked different. Paler. Still. Robotic.

> "I was misled," Chi said, voice flat. "He infiltrated our company under false pretenses. I take responsibility for my role, but I was unaware of his true identity."

Jun stared at the screen.

Chi was denying him.

Erasing him.

His fingers tightened around the whiskey glass until it cracked.

His phone buzzed.

> [MINA]: "Told you. Bridges don't last."

He didn't respond.

He couldn't.

Because something in him - that soft, human part he'd tried to bury years ago - was screaming.

> He lied to protect you. And you just lit the match.

He didn't even mean to be there.

But when he saw the leaked press schedule in Mina's feed, he couldn't help himself. His feet moved before his logic could scream.

Chi would be there.

Giving another rehearsed apology. Another performance. Another knife to the ribs.

So Jun went.

He stood in the back of the luxury hotel ballroom where the press was packed like sharks. No cameras were on him. No one knew his face. That was the one advantage of being the invisible billionaire - you could watch the world burn and no one would suspect you were holding the match.

Chi stepped onto the stage again.

Clean-cut suit. Brushed hair. That same dead expression.

> "There was no personal involvement between me and the anonymous suspect," Chi said flatly. "And I have no reason to believe he acted on anything other than malicious intent."

The words echoed in Jun's skull like a bullet.

No personal involvement?

Nothing between them?

The silence that followed was shattered by a voice.

His voice.

"Liar."

Gasps. Whispers.

Chi's head snapped up.

He knew that voice.

He'd heard it in the dark, in the quiet, in his own heartbeat.

Jun stepped forward.

No mask. No hoodie. Just his face - beautiful, proud, furious.

The room froze.

Jun's voice didn't shake.

"You think you can bury me again?"

Security moved. Press started shouting. Cameras flashed.

Jun kept going.

"You think you can rewrite the story because it doesn't fit your brand anymore?"

Chi didn't move.

Didn't blink.

But Jun saw it - in the flicker of his eyes, the panic in his breath.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Jun reached the edge of the platform.

People screamed for security. A guard grabbed him.

Jun looked up at Chi, eyes shining, voice low.

> "I gave you everything. And you gave me silence."

Then he let them drag him out.

And Chi?

Chi stood there.

Frozen.

Dying inside his suit.

---

That night, nothing trended more than them.

#Krown Affair

#HeirAndTheHacker

#JunParkDhanUnmasked

And buried in the comments, one video went viral - thirty seconds of Chi stepping back from the podium and whispering:

> "Jun..."

It didn't matter that Chi's handlers begged him to stay inside.

It didn't matter that every news site in the country was using that rooftop photo like it was tabloid gold.

And it especially didn't matter that his father's empire was now ash and wire.

Because none of it could drown out the look on Jun's face when he was dragged away.

Not anger.

Not even betrayal.

It hurt.

Raw and silent.

The kind that is carved through Chi's bones like frostbite.

So he left.

No driver. No bodyguards.

Just Chi, in a hoodie and cap, slipping into Seoul's backstreets at midnight with one address echoing in his mind:

> "Mina said Gangnam. High-rise. Untagged penthouse..."

He found the building after nearly an hour of walking.

Unmarked, sterile, tucked behind a shopping district. Security at the front desk gave him a slow once-over before letting him pass.

Elevator. Top floor. Every step is heavier than the last.

When the door opened, he didn't knock.

He couldn't.

He just stepped inside.

Jun stood barefoot by the window, shirtless, backlit by the city skyline.

He didn't flinch.

Didn't turn.

He already knew who it was.

"You went on stage," Jun said flatly.

Chi closed the door behind him. "I had to."

"No," Jun turned around. "You chose to."

They stared at each other across the room - two hearts that had been everything but safe.

Chi's voice cracked. "You don't get to call me a liar when you were lying first."

Jun stepped forward. "I lied about who I was. Not what we were."

Chi's jaw tightened. "So what were we?"

Jun didn't answer.

Not with words.

He walked up to Chi, slow, deliberate.

And kissed him.

Hard. Messy. Desperate.

Chi let it happen - hands in Jun's hair, mouths crashing, years of fury melting under fevered touches.

Clothes hit the floor like consequences.

And when they made it to the bed - it wasn't revenge.

It wasn't rage.

It was ruined.

And in that ruin, they finally found the truth.

Morning came too fast.

Sunlight spilled through the blinds in delicate slats, stretching across skin, sheets, and sin.

Jun woke first.

He lay there quietly, Chi still half-curled against his chest, one arm draped over his waist like it belonged there.

And maybe... it did.

For now.

For this fragile, fleeting second, Jun let himself believe in the illusion - that they weren't standing at the edge of ruin. That they weren't enemies. That the world outside didn't know their names.

But illusions never lasted.

Chi stirred, groaning softly, blinking into the light.

His gaze met Jun's.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

And then:

"I'm sorry," Chi said.

Jun's breath caught.

Not because he expected it.

But because he meant it.

Chi sat up slowly, dragging the sheets with him. "I panicked. I didn't know how to protect you and myself at the same time."

Jun nodded, looking down. "That's the problem, Chi. We were never supposed to protect each other. We were just supposed to survive each other."

Chi turned to him. "Do you still want revenge?"

Jun met his gaze. "Do you still want your father's legacy?"

Silence.

They both knew the answers.

"I don't know what this is," Chi said, voice low. "Us. It's messy. And it hurts."

Jun reached for his hand. "It's real. That's enough."

Outside, sirens echoed in the distance. News anchors shouted. Stocks crashed. The world was burning.

But in that room, on that morning?

All that mattered was them.

Two boys, haunted by fire and family.

Loving in spite of it.

Chi didn't return to his apartment after Jun walked away.

He didn't return to the office. Or the family estate. Or anywhere he was supposed to be.

Instead, he ended up in a place he hadn't visited since he was ten - an abandoned villa in the mountains, once owned by the Suy-un family, now left to rot like an old wound.

The air was different here. Cold. Honest.

No glass walls. No suits. No legacy.

Just Chi.

And the ghosts that lived in his blood.

He stood in what used to be the reading room. The wallpaper peeled like sunburnt skin. Dust choked the bookshelves. And there, by the old fireplace, sat a cracked photo frame.

His mother.

Before she disappeared from the media. Before she'd become just another silent trophy on his father's arm.

He picked it up slowly, brushing dust from her smile.

"You must always look perfect, Chi-yah," she used to whisper. "Or they'll eat you alive."

They did anyway.

He never cried when she left. Never asked why she stopped showing up to his recitals or why her perfume stopped lingering in the hall. He just learned how to stand straighter. How to smile less. How to earn affection like oxygen.

And now...

He had kissed the man who wanted to burn his world down.

He had let him in.

And it had felt more real than anything else in his manicured, hollow life.

A part of him wished he could hate Jun.

But another part - a softer, stupider part - wanted to run after him.

He didn't. Not yet.

Because Chi still didn't know if what he wanted was love... or punishment.

Jun-park Dhan didn't scream.

He'd trained his body to stay still. No flinching, no cracking. Even when flames took his parents. Even when he was dragged into foster homes where no one looked at him twice. Even when he built a faceless empire from the bones of his rage.

But now?

Now, he wanted to break the screen.

Because Chi - chi's

Chi - was up there on live television, telling the world that nothing between them was real.

"There was no personal involvement between me and the suspect," Chi said, voice hollow and corporate. "I was misled. I take full responsibility for my naivety."

Jun started.

He couldn't breathe.

Chi's face looked carved in stone. So calm. So calculated.

And then he blinked.

Just once.

A tremor in his left hand.

Jun saw it. No one else would. But he did.

> He's lying.

His phone buzzed beside him.

[Mina]: "You see now? He made his choice. You should make yours."

He didn't answer.

Mina had been acting strange for days - too quiet, too sharp. And now, sitting at his workstation in Gangnam, Jun realized what she'd done.

She'd moved without him.

She'd dumped part of the files online. The rest she'd sold.

To them.

The very people who built their power on his family's blood.

Jun slammed his hand against the desk, teeth clenched.

"Mina," he said aloud, venom thick in his voice. "What did you do?"

A beep. Then her voice came through the earpiece he wore.

"I saved you from yourself," she said. "You were getting too close. You forgot what this was about. You forgot who we were."

"You betrayed me."

"You betrayed the mission," she snapped. "You kissed him. You slept with him. That makes you weak."

Jun's throat tightened.

"I'm not weak," he said.

"No," she replied. "You're compromised."

And then she hung up.

It wasn't supposed to happen again.

Jun had told himself that. Over and over.

But when Chi showed up at the penthouse at midnight, soaked in rain and guilt, everything inside Jun shattered.

No words.

Just the silence of a door closing behind them.

And the unbearable pull of gravity between their bodies.

Jun backed up, staring at Chi like he was some kind of hallucination - a fever dream wrapped in regret.

"I thought you hated me," Jun murmured.

Chi looked broken. "I hate what you did."

Jun nodded slowly. "Fair."

"But I can't hate you," Chi whispered.

He stepped closer.

And Jun cracked.

The kiss started soft - a question, a plea.

But it escalated like a fire catching fabric.

Jun's hands gripped Chi's hoodie, pulling him in like it hurt to be apart. Chi's fingers sank into Jun's hair, his touch messy, hungry, reverent.

Clothes came off in staggered waves. The way Chi tugged at Jun's shirt like he was trying to strip away the pain. The way Jun pressed kisses down Chi's jaw like he was tracing a map back to himself.

"Tell me to stop," Jun rasped, mouth hot against Chi's throat.

Chi arched into him. "I'll never tell you that."

They didn't make it to the bed at first.

Jun pinned Chi to the wall beside the window, kissing him like he was surviving. Chi let out a soft, broken sound - one Jun swallowed with his tongue, one that made his knees weak.

"You ruined me," Chi gasped.

Jun kissed his collarbone. "You ruined me first."

They moved like they hated each other for what they made each other feel - and like they never wanted to be whole again if it meant forgetting.

By the time they collapsed in bed, tangled and breathless, every layer of armor had been burned away.

They weren't heirs and hackers.

They weren't enemies.

Just two boys who'd been starved of love too long - and finally tasted it in each other's mouths.

Jun woke first.

The light filtering through the blinds cut across the bed in golden ribbons, brushing over Chi's bareback, the curve of his shoulder, the bruise blooming just beneath his collarbone.

It was too quiet.

Too peaceful for two people who had broken each other open just hours before.

Jun watched him sleep for a moment, wondering what it would've been like if they'd met under different circumstances. If he hadn't lost his parents in fire. If Chi hadn't been raised on power and performance. If they had just been... normal.

But normal had never been part of their vocabulary.

Chi stirred slightly, breath catching as his lashes fluttered open. He blinked up at Jun, bleary and beautiful.

"Still here," he murmured.

Jun nodded, brushing a strand of hair from Chi's forehead. "Yeah. Still."

A pause.

Then Chi's voice - small, unsure. "Was that a goodbye?"

Jun's throat tightened. "Do you want it to be?"

Chi didn't answer.

Instead, he reached for Jun's hand and squeezed it.

"I don't know how to keep you," Chi whispered. "But I don't know how to let you go, either."

Jun leaned in, kissed his forehead. "You don't have to decide yet. Just... stay here. For now."

But the world had other plans.

Jun's phone buzzed violently on the floor.

A private security alert.

His accounts had been flagged.

His shell company traced.

His identity was compromised.

The message flashed once:

> "They know."

Jun stared at the screen, heart slamming against his ribs.

And Chi - seeing the look in his eyes - knew without asking.

"It's happening, isn't it?" he whispered.

Jun nodded.

He stood slowly, muscles aching from the night before, from the weight of what was coming.

Chi followed him to the window, where the city stretched out - glittering, ruthless, watching.

Jun took his hand.

And for one fleeting second, it felt like a promise.

> "Whatever happens," Jun said, voice rough, "I don't regret you."

Chi pressed his forehead to Jun's shoulder. "Even if we fall?"

Jun closed his eyes.

> "Especially if we fall."