Chaebol in Paradise

4.

I paced around the suite, eager to escape the plush surroundings that seemed so at odds with the vibrant world outside. Min-jun, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, curled up in a chair with his nose buried in a book.

“You’re really just going to sit here all night?” I said, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “Paradiso Island is famous for its nightlife, and you’re content to waste it in this suite?”

Min-jun barely glanced up. “I prefer to relax and enjoy the comfort of this suite. The nightlife here isn’t my style.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “You’re missing out. Tonight’s the perfect chance to experience everything Paradiso has to offer. I’m heading to the beach to soak up the scene.”

He sighed, putting his book aside reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll join you. But I’m not here to party. I just want to get some fresh air.”

“Suit yourself,” I said with a smirk, leading the way out of the suite.

The warm evening air felt invigorating as we stepped outside. The beach was buzzing with activity, colorful lights twinkling over the waves. Min-jun followed behind, his reluctance evident in his every step. I felt a thrill of anticipation; this was exactly what I’d hoped for.

We wandered down the beach until we stumbled upon a street performer playing a soulful guitar tune. I could feel the rhythm pulsing through the crowd, and without thinking, I grabbed Min-jun’s hand.

“Oh, I love this song!” I exclaimed, my excitement bubbling over. “Let’s dance.”

Min-jun looked surprised but didn’t pull away. We moved to a quieter corner, the gentle melody wrapping around us. Despite the awkwardness, I found myself laughing at how surreal this was—us, dancing together when we usually just exchanged barbs.

“So, Min-jun,” I said, trying to make conversation as we swayed, “what’s your deal? You must have a pretty cushy life if this is your idea of excitement.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled about sharing too much. “I suppose you could say I have a certain level of comfort. I work hard for it, though.”

I gave him a sideways glance. “Come on, don’t be so tight-lipped. Tell me something more. I’ll share if you do.”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I grew up with a lot of expectations. My family’s well-off, and they expect me to uphold that.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” I said, nodding sympathetically. “For me, it was different. I grew up poor. Spent a few years on the streets with my mom and sister. We didn’t have much, but we got by. Things are better now, but it was tough.”

Min-jun looked at me, his curiosity piqued despite himself. “You never really struck me as someone who’s had a rough past.”

I laughed softly. “Most people wouldn’t guess. My brother’s the youngest, and he’s got a knack for bringing joy wherever he goes. It’s nice to see how far we’ve come since those days.”

Min-jun’s expression softened slightly. “That sounds like a real achievement. I suppose it’s easy to forget that people come from different backgrounds.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a rare sense of camaraderie. “Everyone’s got their own story, their own struggles. It’s kind of refreshing to talk about it, even with someone like you.”

He looked away for a moment, and then nodded. “I suppose it is. I don’t usually talk about my past. It’s easier to keep things at a distance.”

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the beach. We sat down on a nearby bench, the conversation flowing more easily now. The silence between us was comfortable, filled with the gentle sounds of the ocean and the fading guitar music.

“Do you ever think about how different things could have been?” I asked, gazing at the sunset. “Like, if things hadn’t turned out the way they did.”

Min-jun looked thoughtful. “Sometimes. It’s hard not to wonder. But I guess we all end up where we’re meant to be.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Life’s funny that way. Even when it seems like everything’s out of control, you end up finding your place.”

We sat in silence as the sun continued its descent, the sky a canvas of vibrant colors. For once, the usual rivalry between us seemed distant. The evening had a way of bringing out a different side of us, one that was more reflective and less combative.

As the last light of day faded and the first stars appeared, I felt a surprising sense of peace. It wasn’t the night I’d originally planned, but it was better in its own way. For a moment, it felt like the rivalry was set aside, replaced by a newfound understanding.