Beyond The Kiss | JoongDunk

Nineteen (pt1): Party

[ FIRST ]

“This is such a beautiful place. Good job, nong,” a man in a grey suit complimented, his eyes gleaming with genuine admiration as he glanced around.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied politely, a small smile tugging at my lips, even though I had no idea who he was. He was probably one of my mom’s friends or business associates—she knew plenty of people like him.

I stood near the main gate of our house, my posture straight as I welcomed every guest who arrived. The blue suit I wore, a gift from Uncle Gun, hung a little too loosely on my frame. It was far too large for me, the shoulders almost sagging, and it made me feel like a walking door. Still, I didn’t mind. In fact, I was thankful I had something formal to wear tonight. I paired the oversized suit with matching blue trousers and completed the look with a navy blue-and-gold leather watch that sat snugly on my wrist.

The man continued to lavish praise on the party decorations—the ones I had spent countless sleepless nights preparing. His words filled me with relief.

Our house has a mix of black-and-white tones, with large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and pastel-colored flowers—my mom’s favorite—decorating the space.

Now that it’s nighttime, the outdoor area has a magical forest-like atmosphere. Strings of lights are wrapped around the trees, and balloons and flowers are placed everywhere. The stage is decorated in pink, with bright lights shining on it.

It had been a tough week for me. As a nursing student, I had no prior experience with party decorating, but I was relieved that everything turned out well. The result was worth the effort, and I couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Enjoy the party,” I said cheerfully as the man nodded and walked away.

“You did great,” another voice suddenly chimed in.

“Thank—” I started, ready to thank whoever it was, but the words died in my throat. My brows furrowed in irritation. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper now as I glared at the man standing smugly in front of me.

“I told you I’d come,” Khaotung said, flashing a victorious grin.

I rolled my eyes, already exasperated. “Can you behave this time? It’s my mom’s birthday, and I just want everything to go smoothly tonight. So, if you’re here just to fuck Dunk, please leave."

“Fuck Dunk? Of course, he can,” came a deep, unsettling voice from behind me.

My body froze as if I’d been turned to stone. A shiver snaked up my spine, my heart lurching painfully in my chest as though it had skipped a beat. My hands felt clammy, and I could swear the air around me turned colder. Slowly, as if moving in slow motion, I turned my head.

Sir Frank—Khaotung’s father. His powerful presence loomed over us, his dark gaze locking onto mine like a predator eyeing prey.

“Sir Frank, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you were there,” I stammered, my voice shaking slightly. I bowed deeply, embarrassed and mortified.

Sir Frank only smiled, but the weight of his authority never wavered. He turned his piercing gaze toward his son, placing a heavy hand on Khaotung’s shoulder. “You’re still with Dunk, right, son?”

The deep timbre of his voice made both of us stiffen instinctively. Khaotung offered a weak, nervous smile, his eyes flicking away from his father’s steely stare. “Y-yes, of course, Dad.”

Sir Frank’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He turned back to me, his expression unreadable. I forced a smile, though my nerves were still rattling inside me like broken glass.