The flowerbed - Aespa's Giselle x M!Reader

The fallen dragon (Part 1)

Jung's POV - Tokyo Concert Hall

"You're fired."

The words echoed through the executive suite, each syllable a hammer blow to me. Below, I could hear the faint bass of aespa's performance - the one I'd tried so desperately to sabotage.

"You can't do this," I managed, my hands clenching into fists. "I built this company's entertainment division. Without me-"

"Without you," CEO Lee cut in coldly, "we might have avoided this PR nightmare. Technical failures during an international showcase? This is unacceptable."

Through the window, I could see that upstart manager - Y/N - directing staff, efficiently handling the crisis I'd orchestrated. The sight made bile rise in my throat.

"This was his fault," I spat. "Him and those insolent girls. If they had just followed protocol-"

"They saved the show," Lee interrupted. "While you... what exactly were you doing when the sound system mysteriously failed?"

The accusation in his tone made my blood run cold. He knew. Somehow, he knew.

"I expect your resignation on my desk by morning," Lee continued, turning away dismissively. "Security will escort you out."

"You'll regret this," I said quietly, dangerously. "All of you."

Lee didn't even bother to respond, already focused on damage control.

The walk through the venue's corridors felt endless, each step burning with humiliation. Staff scattered before me like leaves in a storm.

My phone buzzed - messages already circulating about my dismissal. One message caught my eye, from a number I hadn't seen in years:

"Heard about you. Time to come home, we need to talk"
- Minhyuk"

Home. The family estate in rural Japan. Where our father had driven us to compete, to scheme, to betray. Where Minhyuk, my brother had learned the arts of manipulation that would later make him feared in the entertainment industry.

My hands shook as I typed a reply:

"Send the address."

Three hours later, I was on a flight to Osaka, sake burning in my veins as I plotted my revenge. They thought they could discard me? Erase years of loyal service?

I would show them what happened when you crossed Jung Hyunseok.

The countryside manor appeared through my taxi's window, a relic of traditional Japanese architecture nestled among modern developments. Just like our family - ancient ambitions wearing contemporary masks.

Minhyuk waited on the engawa, the wooden porch wrapping around the house. Ten years had aged him well, power sitting comfortably on his shoulders like a tailored suit.

"Brother," he greeted, raising a cup of sake in mock toast. "Welcome home ."

I stood on the engawa, memories flooding back with each creak of ancient wood beneath my feet. How many times had we plotted here as children, scheming against each other for father's approval?

"You look terrible," Minhyuk observed, pouring me a cup of sake. Not the cheap stuff from the flight - this was father's private reserve. "Failure doesn't suit you."

"I wasn't the one who failed," I growled, throwing back the drink. "That manager... those girls..."

"Ah yes, aespa." Minhyuk's smile turned predatory. "Your latest project. Tell me, brother, how does it feel to be outsmarted by children?"