The moon hung high in the sky, casting its pale, ethereal light through the tall windows of a dimly lit room. The gentle glow was the only source of illumination, barely enough to outline the contours of what seemed to be a large office.
Shelves laden with books lined the walls, and a sturdy wooden desk stood at the center, a single swivel chair behind it. The quiet stillness of the room was shattered when the door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside, one flipping the light switch.
Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed to life, chasing away the shadows and revealing the room in detail. A man, appearing to be in his mid-forties, stood near the switch, dressed impeccably in a tailored blue tuxedo.
His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, and his expression was one of simmering frustration. The second figure, a boy much younger— perhaps in his early twenties— sat across from the desk. He wore casual clothes: worn blue jeans and a black shirt, his posture relaxed and defiant, his expression cold and indifferent contrasting that of the man in front.
"Sit," the man gestured, motioning toward the chair opposite him as he settled behind the desk himself.
The boy obliged without a word, his sharp gaze wandering around the office. He took in every detail of the room— the high bookshelves, the papers stacked neatly on the desk, the faint smell of wood polish lingering in the air. His gaze eventually returned to the man, his eyes betraying no emotion.
“I suppose you know why you’re here,” the man began, his tone controlled but lined with warning.
The boy’s response was clipped. “No.”
A muscle twitched in the man’s jaw, though he tried to maintain composure. "Then allow me to remind you."
He stood abruptly, pacing slowly around the desk until he stood towering over the boy. His voice dropped, low and measured. “You’re well aware of how highly this university thinks of your family. It’s a reputation we value. But if you continue tarnishing that image with your reckless behavior, I will have no choice but to take action.”
The boy remained unruffled, his expression almost bored, as if the man’s words were of no consequence to him. “And?” he asked, the casual defiance in his voice adding fuel to the older man’s restrained anger.
The man’s patience snapped. He slammed his hand on the desk, the sharp crack echoing in the room. "And? You ask?” His voice rose, the fury he’d been holding back finally breaking through.
“You cannot continue throwing punches at students just because they say something you don’t like! This is not how the world works, and if you keep this up, one day the university council will intervene— and when that happens, I won’t be able to save you!”
Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. The boy stared blankly ahead, completely unfazed by the outburst, while the man breathed heavily, trying to regain control.
“No,” the boy said, his voice calm, cutting through the silence like a blade.
The man blinked in disbelief. “What do you mean, “No?” he demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
The boy met his gaze, unflinching. “If they keep talking trash about her, I’ll punch them. They have no right to say that stuff when they know nothing about her.”
The man’s frustration mounted. “You think you have the right to lash out like this? The boy you punched today—he’s the son of Mr. Lin, one of the biggest benefactors of this institution. Do you have any idea how much damage this could have caused? I had to practically beg them not to press charges against you! You're making things harder for everyone, including yourself!”
He jabbed a finger into the boy’s chest, trying to make him understand the gravity of the situation. But the boy’s expression remained unchanged, his eyes drifting toward the bookshelf behind the man, his jaw tightening slightly. He looked distant, almost as if the words being hurled at him didn’t matter.
“You being violent won’t bring that boy back,” the man continued, his voice softer now, trying to reach the boy with reason. “And it certainly won’t clear Miyeon’s name. You need to let go of this anger and focus on your future—focus on yourself, before you ruin everything.”
The boy’s eyes flickered, his emotions finally slipping through. His hands clenched into fists as he slowly stood, the chair scraping against the floor. The man took an involuntary step back, surprised by the sudden movement.
“I don’t care about my reputation. And I don’t care about this ‘prestigious’ university that does nothing to protect its students.” His voice was steady but cold, laced with deep resentment. “I’m not going to stand by while they keep dragging her name through the mud. I won’t let them talk shit about the only two people who ever meant anything to me.”
The man’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t be foolish, Jeon Wonwoo. You’re throwing everything away for—”
The boy turned toward the door, ready to leave. He paused with his hand on the knob, glancing over his shoulder one last time. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be worried about, Uncle Lee.”
And with that, he walked out, leaving the man behind, fuming and helpless, in the dimly lit office.
As the door slammed shut, the man let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He could see the storm building, and no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
____________
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Daylight To Her Midnight | YJH | Seventeen Fanfic
Fanfiction'I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you.' Coming from a wealthy family was never the major flex in her life. To others, she might come off as a rich spoilt brat but the reality was far from what they perceived her to be. In a world...
