beg • woosan (book 2)

36

unedited

Walking into the office the next day, San could feel the weight of curious glances and whispered conversations. Despite this, he carried a sense of determination. What had happened to Wooyoung was deeply unfair, and San was resolved to stand up to Yeosang if they ever crossed paths again. Settling into his cubicle, he tried to focus on the day ahead, holding onto a flicker of confidence amidst the sea of scrutiny.

Eric's greeting was a beacon in the dreariness, his smile a rare commodity in the often emotionless expanse of their workplace. "Hey," he said, a simple word that felt like an anchor in the storm.

"Hi," San replied, the effort it took to muster that single syllable betraying his inner turmoil. Then, as Eric presented him with a bag, curiosity flickered in San's eyes. "What is this?" he asked, eyeing the blonde with a mix of surprise and intrigue.

"A snack, brought it this morning," Eric replied, his casual kindness a stark contrast to the ambiance of judgment that seemed to permeate the office.

San's smile, genuine and grateful, broke through the cloud of his worries. "Thank you," he said, warmth flooding his voice. Eric's next words, though, were what truly cemented him as more than just a colleague in San's eyes.

"And don't worry, I told every single person here to delete any pictures they had of your boyfriend and burn the remaining. I hope he's okay—"

"He's not," San admitted, the truth a heavy stone in his chest. "Thank you, really," he added, his gratitude deepening for Eric's unexpected allyship.

"Do you know who did this?" Eric's voice was low, concerned yet firm.

"Yes, and we placed a report on them," San responded, his voice laced with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"Good." Eric's approval was palpable, a silent vow of support before he walked away, leaving San to face the day's challenges.

San slouched in his chair, the comfort from Eric's gesture a temporary balm to his spirit. He pushed the bag to the side, a small yet significant token of friendship in a world that felt increasingly hostile. As he logged into his work computer, the code on the screen awaited him like a familiar friend, offering solace in its complexity and a distraction from the ache in his heart. Today, San wasn't just coding for work; he was coding for a semblance of normalcy, a momentary escape from the reality that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

"San, my office, please." The moment San heard his name, he looked up to see his attendant beckoning. A sigh escaped him; he had been anticipating something like this. Standing up, he followed the attendant to a boardroom, a sense of foreboding settling over him.

Upon entering, San was met with a scene that immediately set him on edge. The room was occupied by several familiar faces: his boss, Hendery, sitting poised with a laptop open before him; his coworker, Xiaojun, who offered a brief, somewhat apprehensive nod in his direction; and a figure with long dark red hair, turned away from the door. The atmosphere was charged, a palpable tension filling the space as the red-haired individual turned around slowly.

As that face came into view, a face San had hoped he wouldn't have to confront so soon, a smile started to form on the stranger's lips—a smile that faltered and faded as their eyes met San's. In that moment, San's face drained of color, his heart thudding ominously in his chest. The air seemed to thicken around him, time slowing to a crawl as the reality of the situation dawned on him. This was the moment he had dreaded, yet part of him knew it was inevitable.

"you can sit right there, Mr. Choi," Hendery, San's boss, directed, his tone carrying a mix of formality and warmth. As San took his seat next to Hendery, he couldn't help but feel the intensity of the gazes upon him, the weight of expectation and scrutiny. "I chose you guys to work on this special project because I know I can trust you," Hendery continued, a statement that seemed to thicken the air with a sense of responsibility and anticipation.