Fighting down an unexpected feeling of disappointment and frustration, Do-hyun cleared his throat. "My name is Kang Do-hyun," he said. "I'm with the SPS, the… Seoul Philharmonic Symphony. I'm here to see Seo Jaemin-nim."
"Jaemin isn't seeing anyone right now," the beta replied, his gaze steady and unafraid.
Do-hyun took a step forward, trying not to growl at the rejection. "Listen, this is important. It's about the orchestra. I need to talk to him."
The beta didn't budge. "He's not seeing anyone right now," he repeated simply. "He's not well."
"He is the conductor of my orchestra," Do-hyun returned, his voice dangerously low. This beta was no threat, but his quiet authority felt like a challenge, a taunt. "We have a gala in a month. He can't just disappear."
The man's eyes flickered, a deep sadness passing through them. "And Jaemin can't just turn his emotions off like a metronome, either, he's not a machine. He's not well, and he needs time to rest and recalibrate himself."
A new scent, one that Do-hyun now recognized from restless dreams, washed over him. It was coming from inside the apartment, a faint whisper of cloying, sweet florals, laced with a new, bitter tang of exhaustion and stress. A frightened omega's scent.
Do-hyun's mind reeled. The man wasn't lying. Jaemin wasn't just hiding. He was unwell. "What happened—What's happening to him?"
The man watched him with contemplative eyes, sizing up his panicked reaction. "He's been on suppressants for years, but because of stress from recent events, his hormone situation is… complicated."
"For years??" Do-hyun balked. "Conductor-nim? Seo Jaemin-nim??" he called out in a growing panic, reaching for the door on instinct. "Are you there? I know you're in there! Who is this guy?"
The beta stopped him with a gentle but firm push of his arm. "Kwon Jaehyun, Jaemin's best friend and therapist," he replied, still polite but now with an edge to his tone, "the person he calls when his world falls apart. He is not in a state to be disturbed by anyone, especially not by the source of his current distress. Please, leave."
Do-hyun flinched. The words were a direct hit. Jaemin's omega scent—the sweet florals of a terrified, cornered person—had been triggered by his rage. The realisation was both a deep shame and a strange, cold wave of jealousy. This Jaehyun knew Jaemin better than he did, had known Jaemin's true identity all this while. He had a title, a role that gave him the right to be here.
Do-hyun was just a man who had left a trail of chaos in his wake.
"I didn't... I didn't know," Do-hyun croaked, the words hollow. "I just... I felt betrayed."
"And you hurt him when his secret was revealed," Jaehyun countered, his voice still maddeningly calm. "Can you blame him?" When Do-hyun struggled to find a reply, he continued, "He didn't lie to manipulate you, Kang Do-hyun-ssi. He hid to survive. You should know how brutal this world is to omegas. It wasn't about you—He was just trying to protect himself."
Do-hyun gulped as the words hit home. "Please." The rage he had felt just hours ago had been completely erased by a raw, painful confusion. "I need to see him." When the beta didn't budge, desperation made him lose his cool. "Let me see him!"
Jaehyun didn't flinch, merely raised his eyebrows as he contemplated the alpha before him. "Not until you're ready to do more than scream at him. You saw his vulnerability, and you called him a coward." He shook his head. "You're not ready to see him, not until you are ready to face the real man behind the conductor and treat him with the respect he's due, without any of this… alpha aggression. Until then, he needs to heal."
The door swung shut with a quiet, final thud, leaving Do-hyun alone in the hallway, the scent of citrus and distressed cherry blossoms and cedar lingering in the air.