( Seojoon's pov)
The bar was almost empty, save for a few late-night patrons nursing drinks and the soft hum of music I didn't notice. I hunched over the counter, glass in hand, letting the amber liquid swirl until it matched the chaos in my head. My thoughts kept returning to Dohyun—how vulnerable he was, how much danger he still faced. My stomach churned, my chest tight. Nothing felt enough.
I drained the glass and set it down hard, ignoring the sticky ring it left on the counter. A shadow fell across the polished wood.
"You look troubled."
I froze. Calm, measured voice. That smirk—familiar, irritating, infuriating. Taejun. My ex. Dominant, confident, every bit the man I had once known, but now a reminder of mistakes and power I had sworn to keep at bay. I hate him. He got married and ran away from me when I told him I was pregnant.
"What do you want?" I asked, voice tight, defensive.
Taejun leaned casually against the bar, as if he had the luxury to take his time. "Help?" he said simply. "You look like you could use it. Suffering alone, I suppose?"
I scoffed, rubbing my face. "I don't need help from you."
He smiled, slow, predatory. "You think you don't. But I can tell you do. I always knew when you were desperate, Seojoon. That hasn't changed."
I shook my head, forcing words past the lump in my throat. "I—look, I have responsibilities. I have a son. I can't risk him. Whatever you're thinking—whatever you want—this isn't about me and you were the one who abandon him."
"Ah," he said, tilting his head, eyes glinting. "Our little boy. Jihwa, right? Your pride and joy. I understand. You'd do anything to protect him. And yet…" His gaze locked on mine, sharp, calculating. "…you're desperate. And desperate people… make choices they wouldn't otherwise."
My stomach tightened. He didn't know about Dohyun, didn't know the full reason for my desperation. But the truth of my vulnerability was still there, naked, and he could see it. My hands curled into fists on the bar.
"I need help," I admitted, voice low, almost choking. "I have… obligations. Things I can't ignore. And if I can't handle them, then—then someone I care about… someone innocent—will pay the price."
Taejun leaned in, closer than I was comfortable with. "Someone innocent, huh? Your son?"
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes. And if I don't find a way… he'll suffer. I can't let that happen."
A slow smile curved Taejun's lips. "Ah… I see now. That's why you're here. You're willing to… compromise. To sacrifice yourself, if it means protecting him."
He didn't evem consider Jihwa as his own son. How upsetting.
I stiffened. "I… I won't. I can't—"
"You will," he interrupted, calm but certain. "Because you know you have no choice. You can try to refuse, but I can see it in your eyes. You're cornered, Seojoon. Desperate. And desperate people…" He leaned back slightly, smirk widening. "…do what they must to survive. To protect what matters most."
I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead to the cool wood of the counter. The guilt and shame burned hotter than the alcohol. I thought of Jihwa sleeping at home, of the weight of responsibility pressing down on me, and I realized he was right. I had no choice.
"I…" My voice cracked, thick with emotion. "…I'll do it. Whatever it takes. Just… help me."
Taejun's grin softened into something almost tender, though I knew better than to trust it. "Good. I knew you would. And don't worry. Your little secret… it stays between us. No one needs to know, not your son, not anyone."
"What do you want me to do."
"Sell your body to me." He smirked.
"You have a wife Minji and kids."
"..soo-? I don't like either of you. I just wanted to have fun."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Relief mingled with shame, and I knew I would carry that weight for a long time. But Dohyun—or whoever I was trying to protect, no matter the price—would be safe. And sometimes, that was all that mattered.
The cold night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside, sharp enough to cut through the haze of alcohol and shame. My hands shook—not from the chill, but from the weight of the decision I had just made. Each step down the quiet street felt heavier than the last, my mind spinning with consequences I could barely bear to face.
Jihwa. My son. The thought of him waiting at home made my chest tighten. I had promised myself I would protect him, and now, I had traded part of myself to keep that promise. Every instinct screamed at me that I was betraying my own dignity—but the alternative… I couldn't allow it.
I stopped at a streetlight, looking up at the pale glow, trying to steady my breathing. Taejun's smirk haunted me, the calm certainty in his voice echoing in my head. "Desperate people do what they must to survive." He hadn't even known Dohyun existed. Yet somehow, I had let him corner me, let him manipulate me.
A wave of guilt crashed over me. My past with Taejun, the intimacy we'd shared, the trust I had once given him—it was all tangled into this moment. And now it was a weapon in his hands, a weapon I had willingly surrendered to.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, tasting metal as the guilt turned to fury—at myself, at the situation, at the cruelty of having to choose between my pride and the safety of someone I loved.
But there was no time to dwell. Dohyun needed me. And Jihwa… Jihwa needed me to stay strong, to be the father he deserved.
I drew a deep breath, forcing my legs to move. I would find a way to use Taejun's help—carefully, cautiously—without revealing the truth about Dohyun. If I played this right, maybe, just maybe, I could protect both of them without losing myself entirely.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from Jihwa: "Did you get home safe?"
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. I typed back quickly, trying to mask my turmoil: "Yeah. Everything's fine. Just a long night."
And as I walked the remaining blocks home, the city lights blurring through my tears, I silently vowed: I would endure whatever was asked of me. I would sacrifice every shred of pride, every piece of comfort, every part of myself… for Dohyun, for Jihwa, for the safety of those I loved.
Because no matter the cost, I couldn't allow them to suffer. Not ever.
The door closed behind me with a soft click that felt louder than it should have. I was acutely aware of every movement, every breath, every heartbeat pounding in my chest like a war drum. The room was dim, shadows stretching across the walls as if waiting for me to falter.
Taejun sat across from me, calm, unyielding, like he had expected this moment all along. His gaze didn't waver; it pinned me to the spot. "You know why you're here," he said softly, almost too casually, as if we were having a normal conversation.
I swallowed hard. My throat burned. "I… I know what this costs."
He smiled, and it was that familiar smile I hated and feared, the one that had once made me weak. "And yet you're here anyway. I thought you were proud. I thought you valued yourself."
"I do," I said, voice tight, shaking. "But… I value them more." My hands trembled slightly—Jihwa and Dohyun flashed in my mind, innocent, unaware, vulnerable. I couldn't fail them. Not now. Not ever.
Taejun leaned forward. "So you'll comply. Even though it's against your pride, your dignity." His voice was calm, but I felt the weight of every unspoken word, every memory of power and control he had over me.
"Yes," I whispered, almost inaudibly. "For them. For both of them. I'll do it. I… I have no choice."
The words burned on my tongue, shame and resolve twisting together in my chest. I could feel every fiber of my body screaming against what I was about to give, but there was no alternative. Jihwa's safety, Dohyun's survival—it outweighed every instinct, every moral code, every ounce of pride.
Taejun's eyes glimmered with satisfaction, but his expression softened just enough to make the act feel bearable—or at least tolerable. "Then it's settled. You know the rules. You know what's required."
I nodded, my lips pressed tight together, refusing to allow any sound to escape. Inside, I was crumbling, every step toward compliance a battle against myself. I replayed the faces of the two I loved most, anchoring myself to their safety like a life raft.
As the moment came, my hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, body tense. Every instinct screamed to run, to fight, to refuse. But I couldn't. Not if it meant they would be harmed. Not if it meant letting Dohyun suffer one more day, letting Jihwa face the world without my protection.
Taejun approached, measured, deliberate, and I felt the full weight of the bargain. I gave myself over, mentally, emotionally. My body would comply, but my mind, my heart, my soul—they clung to the purpose: protection. Sacrifice meant survival for them, and that was the only thing that mattered.
"Srip."
I did what he told me.
When it was over, I sank into a chair, sweat and tension clinging to me. My chest heaved, throat tight, eyes stinging. I had lost a piece of myself—of dignity, of pride, of autonomy—but I had secured something far more important. Jihwa would remain safe. Dohyun would have a chance to heal. That alone made the agony bearable.
Taejun watched, inscrutable, and finally stepped back. "You did what you had to do," he said. "And that… is all that matters."
I nodded again, though my body felt hollow, drained. I rose slowly, voice rough, barely above a whisper. "I did it for them. For both of them. And I'll endure whatever comes next. As long as they're safe."
The world outside the room seemed brighter somehow, cruelly ironic after the darkness of what I had just endured. I stepped out into the night, the air sharp and clean, and let myself feel the smallest measure of relief. Relief that my sacrifice had meaning. Relief that they were alive. Relief that the weight, heavy though it was, had not been in vain.
But the guilt, the shame, the knowledge of what I had given… that would follow me forever. And deep inside, I knew it would shape every decision, every thought, every action from that moment onward.
Because protection came at a cost. And I had paid it in full.