It had been a little over a month. Things were moving the way they were supposed to.
More or less.
I kept looking at him. Kang. For longer than I should.
I still think about that night. He waited for me after the meeting. And then… we almost kissed.
It was terrifying. For a second, I saw myself in his hands.
But he pulled away. He left.
Not in a way that hurt me. I didn't feel bad. Instead, I felt warm.
He's not as confident as he looks. He's willing to stay to take care of me… and run away if it means kissing me.
Not because he doesn't want to, but because he… cares?
— Mister Johan. — He said with a bit of excitement, pulling me out of my thoughts, making me look at him.
Kang had just come back with snacks, like always, bringing my coffee… and muffins.
He still hadn't given up.
It was already his fourth attempt to feed me like we were close.
The last few times, he'd just leave the food on the table with that frustrated look he pretended not to have.
Today, he tried again:
— Say "ah" — he said with the most manipulative smile on Earth.
And yeah… it was cute.
My mouth opened.
For the first time.
He looked at me like he'd just won the lottery.
Today, I let him.
But I chewed like it was stone. Kept my face serious, unreadable.
His? Beaming. He turned around, trying to hide the grin, and failed.
So did I.
He sat back down, took off his blazer and hung it on the chair. The move was identical to Kemun's.
But the vibe… the vibe was different.
No threat. No poison.
Just a boy happy that his partner accepted a muffin from his hand.
He moved calmly. Way too confident. Like he knew I was watching.
Which I wasn't.
At least… not for more than three seconds.
Before I realized it, his shoulder was already pressed against mine. Looking at the same screen. Lost in thought.
I could've told him to move.
But I didn't want to.
— Want me to review the slides? — Kang asked.
The PowerPoint had been open for forty minutes.
I hadn't touched anything.
— No. I… I'm still figuring out the order.
— You've been at this for days.
— The meeting's tomorrow. You need to impress the board.
— Me? — He leaned back slightly. Still dangerously close to my desk.
— I don't do presentations. I've told you.
— I know. But this... it's got your name all over it. It's only fair if it's you.
— I only do presentations if I memorize every line first. And I'm not doing that for your board. I only do that for mine.
It came out harsh. I didn't bother softening it. Let him figure it out.
Silence. Long.
I started typing again just to look busy, but my head was somewhere else.
On a stage. That stage.
— Once, I pitched in a room full of investors. Including Kemun. — I let it slip. Didn't even look at him. — Got treated like a product. By the man who said he loved me.
Silence again. But this time… This one was listening.
— Since then, everything has to be perfect. Or it's just another way to be exposed.
He was quiet for a few seconds, then stood up and walked around to the front of my desk. Calmly, he said:
— Want to try it just for me?
I looked up. He seemed serious. No teasing. No sarcasm. Just… honest.
— Just talk to me. Show me what you've got. However it comes out. You don't need a script. It's your project.
I rolled my eyes.
His gaze was too… mine.
I gave in. Grabbed the clicker. Took a deep breath. Spoke.
I've done this before. For Kemun.
He'd shower me with compliments… and then use them against me.
You're no different, Kang.
You're just trying to be.
Five minutes later, I looked at him. I was done. My heart was beating out of my chest.
— Aside from that little mess at the start… you do realize you nailed it, right?
I raised a brow.
— You're just flattering me.
He smiled slightly, but his tone was solid:
— I'm not my father, the asshole. If I disagree, I'll tell you — now. Not the day of. Not onstage. I know what he was like.
But what you just did? That was good.
I looked down. Pretending not to care.
But inside, that hit weird. Warm. Like it was what I'd been waiting to hear.
— For a second, I thought it was awful.
— It wasn't, Mister Johan. You're good at this.
I smiled. A little crooked. But a smile, still.
He shut the laptop with a soft thud.
— You're really gonna let me present this? — he pushed again.
— Everything's in the slides. You know what to say. Just impress the board.
He leaned in.
— Then I'll present it. But you'll be there. Front row.
— I don't need to—
— I know. But you'll come in through the back. Just us. Walk in with me into my company's boardroom. You won't see anyone else but the investors.
— I…
— They're not the same people from back then. I replaced all of them.
My eyes widened. I didn't even try to hide it.
— They made me uncomfortable. — he added.
I took a while to respond.
— Still… you could do this on your own.
He didn't even pause:
— But I want you to see me do it. — he said, and I held my breath for a second. — Come. Let me show you how things can be different. Do you trust me?
The silence stretched.
I clenched my jaw. Swallowed hard. Looked away.
I didn't feel like I could say yes.
But I didn't want to say no either.
He gave a soft smile.
— And if anyone tries to shut you down again… I'll speak louder. Loud enough that no one can pretend they didn't hear.
His words hit me like promises.
I heard every one.
Stored them all.
Like they were lies.
Because I've learned not to trust.
Even so, I'd go.
Armed to the teeth.
(...)
The meeting with the shareholders was scheduled for 3 PM. I got there at 2:15. And, just like Kang had promised, the path to the conference room was safe. No crowds. No stares. No questions.
The room was still empty. I stayed inside, adjusting the slides, reviewing everything. Every graph. Every line of code embedded in the stats. Everything in place. Everything flawless. Even if I wasn't the one presenting.
He showed up a few minutes later. With a folder full of notes, wearing the same dark blazer from the last meeting...
— Finished? — he asked, casually.
— It's all here. — I handed him the clicker without looking up. — Just follow the points. The graphs speak for themselves.
— You should be the one presenting.
He came closer, stopping by my side. Warm.
— We've talked about this — I said, flat, nudging him away.
— This is yours. The logic, the code, the idea. They should hear it from you.
— They don't need to see me. They need to approve the project. And you sell it better than I do.
— You can't keep running, Mr. Johan.
I crossed my arms.
— I'm not running. I'm delegating.
— That's not delegating. That's hiding. And you know it.
— Why do you keep pushing this?
— Because it's not fair for you to do this to yourself.
— You don't understand.
— Then explain it to me, dammit. Stop acting like I'm him.
My stomach knotted.
— …I can't trust you. Not the way you want.
— I don't want anything you can't give. But I'll make you trust me. Just don't lie to yourself saying it's fine to keep going like this.
— I'm surviving.
— But I want to see you live.
Silence. The kind that squeezes your chest.
I knew he was trying. But it's hard.
— I'll present it because I promised myself I wouldn't let you fail — he said, steady. — But one day, Johan… you'll have to choose whether you're going to keep being the shadow of what they made you, or go back to being yourself.
His gaze held mine. But he didn't touch me.
The meeting started. Nine shareholders. One joined by video. All of them wearing that same bored face, waiting for yet another PowerPoint that wouldn't change a thing.
But when Kang started speaking, I noticed it right away: his tone was different.
— The project I'm presenting today was developed by one of the sharpest minds this company has ever seen — he began, straight to the point. — What you'll see here isn't just digital security. It's about rebuilding trust.
Slide by slide, he explained. The monitoring system. The security layers. The AI integration. The simulated results.
And me? I just sat there. Frozen. No courage to face any of those people. I'd been in that room before. And every memory hit like a punch.
I'd already been exposed too many times in that room.
But I was here again.
And, for some reason, the only face I could look at... was his.
Every now and then, he'd glance at me. Like he needed my approval. Like he was asking with his eyes, "am I doing okay?"
It was weird. But not in a bad way.
When the presentation ended, Kang took a deep breath. Then dropped the final blow.
— Any company can buy software. But very few have someone capable of building something with this level of technical and ethical commitment. That's why I approached Hiddenline. Johan Hild developed this model exclusively for Mingell Corp.
I blinked. He had just dropped my name right in the middle of the table. Without asking. But… with respect. With pride.
The approval came shortly after.
They all shook his hand. Some even came up to me. Smiles. Polite comments. Glances that... didn't carry disdain. For the first time in a long while, the faces in that room looked human.
When the room finally emptied out, Kang turned to me:
— So?
— Approved. Congrats.
— No. — he stepped closer. — This wasn't for me. This is yours. I just… represented you.
I went quiet. The word "thanks" got stuck in my throat.
— I know — I muttered, low.
He just picked up the papers and said:
— There's an event in three weeks. Business leaders' summit. They'll be announcing new projects. Why don't you go and brag a little?
— As if, Kang.
He chuckled.
— Then how about we go?
— Huh?
— Let's brag together. You present with me. Even if it's just one slide.
I went silent. Looked down. But the idea… didn't sound absurd.
— I saw you today, Mr. Johan. You wanted to speak too. We can share it.
— Idiot — I muttered, almost smiling.
But… I felt something spark. A small fire. A want I didn't even remember I still had.
— Maybe — I said, after a moment. — If you promise not to run this time.
He blinked, trying to play it cool.
— Me? Run?
— You ran. That night. Remember?
He laughed softly. A bit embarrassed.
— Maybe we've got more in common than it seems. We both run from what feels right. Next time… maybe I won't stop. And neither should you.
Our eyes met.
The air grew heavy.
I took a deep breath. And looked away.
— We'll see.