- Two Is Definitely Better Then One -

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3ʀᴅ ᴘᴏᴠ
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✎...

Jongho's distaste for these social gatherings was almost palpable as he stood at the edge of the room, his posture stiff, shoulders slightly hunched as if bracing against the onslaught of meaningless chatter that surrounded him. These events were always the same: a parade of ostentatious wealth, where the air was thick with the smell of expensive cologne and the insufferable sound of people flaunting their success. The polished smiles, the clinking of glasses, the subtle one-upmanship—it all grated on his nerves. Jongho wasn't a man for idle conversation, and his social battery, always on the verge of depletion, was dying a quick death.

He scanned the room with a practiced eye, catching snippets of conversations he had no interest in joining. His mind wandered, listing all the things he'd rather be doing—anything but this. He could be back at his office, working on the next phase of his company's growth, perhaps refining the latest designs or strategizing ways to ensure their stocks didn't falter. But instead, here he was, trapped in this gilded cage because his mother had asked him to attend. And though he was old enough to refuse, the idea of disappointing her—especially when avoiding the inevitable confrontation with his father—kept him rooted to the spot.

He sighed, casting a glance at his watch. Thirty more minutes. That's all he had promised to endure, and then he could make some excuse to escape this gaudy prison. The only solace he found was in the drinks.

Having greeted the people his mother had insisted he meet, Jongho finally found refuge at the bar. He cradled his drink, letting the cool glass soothe his frayed nerves. The alcohol did little to dull the edge of the day's frustrations. One of his business partners had threatened to pull out of a crucial deal, and his secretary had botched his schedule, leading to a series of near-disasters. As the evening wore on, the weight of these issues pressed down on him, making his presence here all the more unbearable.

He was lost in thought, the chatter around him fading into a dull hum, when a voice cut through his brooding like a knife.

"Poor thing."

" you look so miserable.."

The suddenness of the comment jolted Jongho out of his reverie. His first instinct was to brace for the sight of yet another socialite, dripping in jewels and shallow intentions, sidling up to him with some inane remark. But when he turned, what he found was far from what he expected.

Standing beside him was a small man with vibrant red hair, styled in a neat middle part that framed his sharp features with precision. His eyes, a deep brown, were accentuated by a careful application of gold and white eyeshadow, the colors blending seamlessly to make them shine even in the dim light. Next to him was another man, taller, with striking pink hair slicked back and parted to the side. His face was sculpted, the angles softened by the rose gold tones in his makeup, which highlighted the bronze undertones of his skin.

Both men were dressed to perfection, their appearance a stark contrast to the monotonous sea of black suits that filled the room. The redhead's lips were glossed in a deep red that gleamed under the chandelier light, while the pink-haired man's were shaded in a slightly softer hue, both shades drawing Jongho's gaze longer than he intended.

For a moment, the frustration that had been gnawing at him all night faded, replaced by a flicker of intrigue. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not in a place like this. But there was something about these two—something in the way they carried themselves, in the boldness of their style—that piqued his curiosity.

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