The recording crackled to life, the sound faint but unmistakable.
"Knowing you, I trust you've been working on your side of the agreement, Hyunjae," a male voice said, smooth but tinged with authority.
"That's the CEO," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low. "Talking to Hyunjae..." He trailed off, glancing at Aerin, who nodded silently, her expression grim.
The recording continued, Hyunjae's tone casual but filled with venomous entitlement.
"Come on, Dad, don't be silly. But have you been working on your end of the deal?"
"Yes, yes. I have the article pre-written and the documents ready. But you understand, don't you? If you want her gone, you need to hold up your end of the agreement. It's you, my daughter, who wants her eliminated. I can only do so much."
"But Daddy! You can just terminate her contract and kick her out!"
"Well, my dear, if you'd told me you wanted to be the leader before we went public with the group's lineup, I could have done that. But now? We're too far in. Something drastic has to happen."
"This is so unfair!" Hyunjae's voice rose, sharp and petulant.
"Now, now, princess, I'm doing my best. But tell me, do you really want this position that badly?"
"Are you insane? Of course I do! She thinks she can just waltz in and take what should have been mine, all because she's older? I'll crush her. With or without your help. And just so you know, I've already found someone to help me. Others will follow."
"And who might that be?"
"Obviously—"
The recording cut off abruptly.
Aerin let out a frustrated groan, tossing the pen onto the bed. "And that's where the battery dies," she muttered bitterly.
Seungcheol stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides. His face was pale, his jaw tight as he stared at the pen like it might suddenly reveal the rest of the damning conversation. After a long pause, he inhaled sharply. "So Hyunjae really is—was—out to get you. We were right."
He moved toward the bed, sitting beside Aerin. Their shoulders nearly touched as he turned to look at her.
"Yup." Her voice was flat, a dull edge of anger beneath the calm exterior. "And apparently, she's got an accomplice. But thanks to the stupid recording cutting off, we don't know who."
Seungcheol didn't try to calm her down. He couldn't. Who wouldn't be furious after finding out that someone they trusted—someone they thought was a friend—had been plotting their downfall from the start?
Aerin's chest heaved as she tried to keep her composure, but the weight of betrayal threatened to crush her. Sniffles broke through her attempts at restraint, and she buried her face in her hands.
Without a word, Seungcheol pulled her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment but quickly gave in, sobbing quietly into his chest.
"Just let it out, Rin," he murmured, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head.
Tears soaked his shirt, but he didn't care. In that moment, she wasn't just a colleague or a friend—she was someone who needed him. Aerin had carried so much alone, bottled it all up, and now it was spilling out in a flood of grief and frustration.
When her sobs finally subsided, Seungcheol spoke softly. "Rin..."
She looked up at him, her eyes red and glassy.
"I wasn't going to say anything yet," he began hesitantly, "but I noticed something last night. Jeonghan left his phone out, and I saw a chatroom... between him and Hyunjae."
Aerin's brows shot up in shock. "You're kidding."
He shook his head. "And it's not just that. He's been acting weird—disappearing late at night, missing when we don't have schedules. You mentioned Hyunjae doing the same, right?"
Her mind raced as she processed his words. "Wait... Are you saying Jeonghan is working with her?"
"I'm saying it's possible. Look, I trust Jeonghan with me, but he's... complicated. If Hyunjae offered him something big—or if she knows something she shouldn't—it wouldn't surprise me if he helped her." He paused, his voice dropping. "But going this far? I don't want to believe it."
Aerin let out a groan and flopped back onto the bed, pressing her face into the mattress. "This industry is so messed up."
Seungcheol chuckled darkly. "You're not wrong." He lay down beside her, propping himself up on one elbow to meet her gaze. "Are you going to be okay?"
She hesitated before answering. "Can I stay here tonight?"
His brows lifted in surprise, and she quickly clarified, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Not like that! I just... I can't go back to the dorms right now. I need space. Time to think."
He nodded. "Of course. Take the bed. I'll crash on the couch—"
"No," she interrupted, sitting up to grab his wrist. "It's fine. Let's just share the bed. We'll put a pillow between us."
Seungcheol blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. "Are you sure?"
"It's just sleeping," she said firmly, "Unless you're uncomfortable."
He hesitated, but the exhaustion in her eyes swayed him. "Alright. Just sleeping."
As they settled in, the room grew quiet. A pillow separated them physically, but the unspoken connection between them lingered, stronger than ever.
