our trail of gold ; jeongcheol

Chapter 21

"I didn't think you would have had us meet in your office," remarked Junhui good naturedly, nursing the cup of coffee Seungcheol had offered him. It was more pungent that what he had gulped down a while ago, and he needed it, if he was to brave his confrontation with the business man.

"It was the best place to meet," Seungcheol answered, smoothing back his short bangs, only for it to peak and spring back in place. Junhui began to wonder if maybe the man was just as nervous as he was, but he quickly dismissed such a thought. He was the only one that was jittery, heart pounding and throat thickening in fear of whatever Seungcheol had yet to tell.

It was about Seungkwan.

And Seungkwan was alive.

"I am not a man, to speak useless words, so I might as well begin on what I originally called you here for. But firstly, I wanted to thank you."

Junhui blew over the teacup, suddenly grateful for the distraction. "And as I said, you don't have to thank me. I wasn't doing you a favour. It was of my own love for Jeonghan that I befriended him and took care of him."

"I know that. But I'm thanking you for saving him and keeping him sane." Seungcheol's eyes were hard, and it was doubtful that Seungcheol understood the impact of his words on the composer's ruptured psyche.

"Jeonghan kept me sane, so please, just go ahead with–"

"You have found out haven't you," Seungcheol cut in, chair rocking momentarily sideways and returning to its central arch, "That's Seungkwan's alive."

"How did you–" The businessman's stare cut into his words and Junhui groaned the rest. "I...fuck...yes. I saw him in America. But how did you know? How do you know Seungkwan? Or the fact that he's related to me?"

"Because I was the one who was hired to shoot him."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Junhui gawked, eyes taking everything in but the business man in front of him. He tried to understand what he had just heard, but he couldn't, and it scared him.

"W....wh...what? This is some kind of sick joke?" With no reply, Junhui laughed shortly, and roughly. "But you're not. You're not. I'll shut up. But you better fucking tell me everything you know Choi Seungcheol. Because I still owe you a punch for fucking with Jeonghan's life."

A tight smile made its way to the odd shape of Seungcheol's puckered lips. "I knew I would like you, Moon Junhui. The only problem is...where to start? I should probably begin with when I met Kim Mingyu, a close friend of mines, a detective. I never expected to be drawn into his work, but I was, and still am. But back then, I was the most perfect person to aid in his case – the case that most of the Korean police force was working to bring down."

"What was it?" Junhui questioned, coffee abandoned in the depths of his inquisitiveness. Seungcheol's words fell to needy ears, drinking and lapping at a story sought to quell the hurt spearing Junhui's well-worn heart.

"The Black Heart of the Rich – that was what they called it back then.  A secret society of murder, drugs, and power. It was a society only for the rich and the famed, and as the society continued to grow, the number of deaths began to escalate. Jeonghan's parents were in it as I soon found out, and so were Seungkwan's. But initially, when Mingyu approached me with the case, I understood his plea. I was the perfect candidate."

"You were rich, and you were an up and coming business man," Junhui breathed.

Seungcheol nodded, eyeing the coffee that ran cold and moving to pour himself something stronger, crisper. "Exactly. I could fit in. Work undercover. And that I did. They accepted me with open arms. I was perfect for them. More than perfect. When my business continued to grow, I expanded further into the society. My rank breached the higher ups, and I was allowed a job that we perfect men and women did not dare soil their hands with."