Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mr. Hong, please… don’t get me fired because of your actions,” Dokyeom pleaded with the man lying on the massive queen-sized bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Joshua hadn’t responded to anyone all morning.

His mother had ordered him to attend a business party—as the only heir of the Hong family, it was expected of him.

But Joshua knew that cunning woman too well. He knew exactly why she suddenly wanted him to show up at that party. Because they would be there. The big three. Yoon Jeonghan, Kim Mingyu, and Jeon Wonwoo.

His mother had always wanted him to get close to them. The four major families had a long history of close ties, and naturally, so did their heirs. But for Joshua, friendship with the three was easier said than done.

Out of the trio, Jeon Wonwoo was the only one Joshua could truly tolerate. Wonwoo had always been kind to him—like an older brother figure from their childhood. Joshua was certain the feeling was mutual.

Kim Mingyu wasn’t so bad either. He was playful, a bit of a flirt and a tease which could get on Joshua’s nerves. Still, Mingyu had helped him out more than once, and for that, Joshua was genuinely grateful. But that was as far as it went. He saw him only as a friend.

Then there was the real reason Joshua avoided the group altogether, Yoon Jeonghan.

That guy was nothing but trouble. For some reasons Joshua never understood, Jeonghan seemed to despise him. It was like tormenting Joshua had become his life’s mission. He took every opportunity to bully him, to make his life difficult. And because of that, Joshua couldn’t help but hate him back.

And now, his mother wanted him to choose one of them as a life partner.

That was impossible. He would never marry any of them.

“Hyung, please, this is my request as your dongsaeng,” Dokyeom begged, almost on his knees now. “Mrs. Hong threatened me. If I fail to take you to the party, she’ll fire me.”

Joshua gripped the blanket tighter at Dokyeom’s words. He knew the younger was being a little dramatic, but still, this was exactly the kind of thing his mother would do. She was ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted. And firing Dokyeom? That wouldn’t cost her anything. She knew just how much Joshua cared about him, and she never hesitated to use that against him.

To Joshua, Dokyeom was more than just an employee. He was like a little brother, a close friend, maybe even the only real friend Joshua had. A warm, steady presence in his otherwise cold and colorless world.

Joshua had always been a loner. Not by choice, but because people kept their distance. He was quiet, reserved, and that made others think he was cold or arrogant. Add wealth into the mix, and the judgment came even quicker. They thought he was showing off, that he looked down on them when all he really wanted was a friend.

He wanted friends too. He wanted someone to approach him first. But no one ever did.

Because of him. Yoon Jeonghan.

The golden boy. Friendly, charming, always smiling—the kind of person everyone naturally gravitated toward. To the world, Jeonghan was an angel.

But Joshua knew the truth.

Behind that perfect mask, Yoon Jeonghan was the devil in disguise. 

It was Jeonghan who spread those rumors that Joshua was arrogant, cold, and full of himself. And no matter how many times Joshua tried to defend himself, no one ever believed him. Not even his own mother.

In their eyes, Jeonghan could do no wrong.

Amid all the judgment and loneliness, only Dokyeom had stood by him. Even as his junior, even when everyone else turned their backs, Dokyeom never believed the lies. He stayed. He listened. And now, he worked as Joshua’s secretary.

Which made him an easy target.

His mother knew how much Dokyeom meant to him. She used that against Joshua constantly. And he was growing exhausted from playing this cruel game over and over again.

Joshua slowly unwrapped himself from the blanket and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Dokyeom’s eyes lit up instantly, hope written all over his face.

Joshua hesitated for a brief moment, then finally spoke.

“I’ll go.”

“Yes! I love you so much, hyung!!” Dokyeom practically shouted, throwing his hands up in celebration.

“Shut up,” Joshua muttered, though a faint, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jisoo stood in the middle of the room, staring at the wreckage of his paintings. His precious creations. Once full of color, life, and emotion, were now nothing more than torn paper scattered across the floor.

His tears had dried. There was none left to shed.

This destruction, it wasn’t new. It had started years ago, back in high school. And started with that one person, Choi Seungcheol.

The first friend Jisoo ever made. His best friend. His first love.

Seungcheol used to be kind, sweet, understanding, and always there for him. Until she came into the picture.

That girl. The one who ruined everything.

She had been jealous of Jisoo’s closeness with Seungcheol, so much so that she started spreading lies. She twisted stories, fabricated rumors, and worst of all, she accused Jisoo of stealing her artwork.

In truth, she was the one who had stolen his work.

They both had been competitors in art, and she couldn’t stand that Jisoo shone brighter. So she poisoned the one relationship that meant the most to him.

And Seungcheol believed her.

He never once asked for Jisoo’s side of the story. He just walked away.

That betrayal shattered more than their friendship, it shattered Jisoo’s dreams. He gave up on becoming a professional artist, letting the passion that once guided him dim into something private, something quiet.

Even so, he still painted in his free time. It was the only thing that gave him peace.

And now, even that had been destroyed.

He was certain she was behind this.

He’d heard recently that Seungcheol had broken up with her. Maybe now, with no one else to blame, she had turned her bitterness back on him.

Jisoo glanced at the wall clock. 7 p.m.

He was late for his part-time job. He had the night shift again, from 7 to 10 p.m.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he gathered his things. Before leaving, he double-checked the lock on his front door. Then checked it again.

He couldn’t risk anything else being destroyed. Not after what happened to his paintings. He was still scared. He knew she was capable of anything.

The girl, Soeun , was dangerous.

The night shift at the convenience store was usually calm. The streets were quiet, and not many customers came in. Jisoo liked it that way. It gave him time to think. To draw.

He pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw absentmindedly, letting his hand move on its own. The feel of the pencil on paper was comforting, familiar.

After a few minutes, he looked down, and froze.

It was Seungcheol.

He had sketched Seungcheol’s face, without even realizing it. The sharp eyes, the gentle smile that once gave him comfort, it was all there.

Jisoo stared at it for a moment before quickly shutting the book, as if that would erase the feelings that still lingered deep inside him. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on the store, counting the seconds until his shift ended.

At exactly 10 p.m., his replacement arrived. Jisoo packed his things, the sketchbook still in his hand, and left.

The walk home was quiet. A little cold. But halfway there, he stopped.

Someone was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting.

It was her. Soeun.

Her eyes locked onto his, and without a word, she stormed toward him.

Then—a slap.

Jisoo’s head turned from the force of it. His cheek stung.

“You crazy bitch!” she screamed. “What did you tell Seungcheol about me?!” Her voice was loud, shaking with anger.

Jisoo blinked, stunned. He tried to stay calm. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low. “You know Seungcheol doesn’t even talk to me anymore—”

“LIAR!” she yelled, and shoved him hard.

He stumbled back and fell, his sketchbook slipping from his grasp and landing open on the pavement.

The page with Seungcheol’s portrait stared up at them.

Soeun saw it.

Her eyes narrowed. Her face twisted with rage.

“Hah. You still love him?” She hissed. “That’s why you said things about me, isn’t it?”

Jisoo shook his head, trying to speak. “No—”

“You fag,” she spat. “Do you really think Seungcheol would ever want someone like you?”

Jisoo flinched at the word. His throat tightened.

“You’re just a poor, lonely orphan bitch.”

He felt his chest ache. He struggled to get back on his feet, tears pricking his eyes. But she didn’t stop.

“Even your parents abandoned you,” she said, laughing cruelly. “Why wouldn’t Seungcheol do the same?”

“Stop—” Jisoo said, voice shaking.

“WHY WOULD I?!” she shouted.

And with that, she shoved him again. Harder.

He stumbled backward, right into the road. His eyes widened.

A flash of headlights. A car.

Soeun gasped as the vehicle struck Jisoo and sped off into the night without stopping.

His body hit the ground with a sickening thud.

She froze.

Her breath came in short, panicked gasps. She stared at him, then down at her shaking hands.

She looked around. No one had seen.

Her phone was in her hand now, trembling. She hovered her finger over the screen, hesitating.

Call an ambulance?

But what if they find out? What if they arrest me? What if I go to jail?

Her eyes flicked back to Jisoo, lying motionless on the road.

Then, she turned and ran.

Left him there. Alone, under the streetlights.

Bleeding.

Joshua stood silently in the far corner of the party room, doing his best to stay out of sight. He didn’t want anyone’s attention, especially not at an event like this. Nothing good ever came out of people noticing him.

All around him, the room was filled with chatter, laughter, and the sound of clinking glasses. Elegant guests moved from group to group, exchanging pleasantries. Joshua felt out of place as always.

Across the room, he spotted his mother smiling brightly, engaged in deep conversation with Mr. Yoon, Jeonghan’s father. Unlike his son, Mr. Yoon was a kind and decent man. Joshua actually respected him.

But just the thought of Jeonghan made Joshua roll his eyes.

And right on cue, Jeonghan appeared at his side, as if summoned by Joshua’s irritation. His usual fake smile was in place.

“Still a loner, I see,” Jeonghan said casually, like it was just an observation.

Joshua said nothing. He didn’t even flinch. He had long since learned that silence was often the best shield.

But Jeonghan wasn’t finished. He never was.

“Smile a bit,” he added with a smirk. “You’re scaring the people here.”

That one hit deeper than Joshua wanted to admit. He kept his gaze forward, but his hands tightened into fists at his sides.

Why did it always have to be him?

“Can’t you just ignore me?” Joshua asked quietly, his voice low and tired. There was no anger in it. Just exhaustion. He was worn out from all of it, especially from Jeonghan.

“I can’t,” Jeonghan said, his smile dropping for a moment. “Not when your mom begs me to keep you company. I actually feel bad for her. Must be tough raising a stepson like you.”

Joshua’s breath caught for a second. That one stung. The calm mask on his face began to crack, just a little. But before he could say anything back, a familiar voice cut in.

“What are you doing?”

It was his mother. She walked over with a bright smile, looking at them like she had just stumbled upon a sweet moment.

“Are you two bonding?” she asked in a teasing tone.

Before Joshua could respond, Mr. Yoon came up behind her, his tone more serious.

“Were you bullying Shua again, Jeonghan?” he asked, frowning slightly at his son.

Joshua noticed how Jeonghan’s expression twitched, just for a second. Then, like flipping a switch, he turned on his perfect warm smile again.

“No,” Jeonghan said smoothly. “I just wanted to introduce Shua to my friends upstairs.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” Joshua’s mother beamed. She looked at Jeonghan like he was her favorite person in the world.

“Shua, go join them,” she added, her voice still soft but clearly leaving no room for refusal. Joshua recognized that tone. It was one of those sweet commands dressed up as a suggestion.

He didn’t want to go. But he knew better than to argue.

So he turned to Jeonghan, forcing a polite smile.

“Please,” he said, voice steady, “lead the way.”

Jeonghan’s friends were exactly what Joshua had expected, loud, flashy, and full of themselves. The kind of people who only cared about brand names, gossip, and showing off their money.

The moment Joshua stepped into the room Jeonghan brought him to, he regretted it. The air was heavy with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Music played low in the background, but the loud laughter and voices overpowered it. He could already feel their stares on him. Some curious, some mocking. Whispered comments followed him like shadows. He didn’t belong here, and everyone knew it.

Jeonghan walked up to him with a smug smile, holding out a drink.

“Joshua, have a drink?” he asked, waving the glass near his face.

The strong scent of alcohol made Joshua frown and take a small step back.

“I don’t drink,” he said calmly, not taking the glass.

That wasn’t the full truth—he did drink sometimes. But he wasn’t going to risk accepting anything from Jeonghan. He didn’t trust him, especially not in a room full of strangers who already didn’t like him.

Jeonghan just chuckled and walked away, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

Joshua stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to sit near anyone, but standing alone made him feel even more out of place.

Thankfully, just when the discomfort became too much, Wonwoo appeared.

“Hey,” Wonwoo greeted him with a kind smile, “Come sit with me.”

Joshua followed him to an empty couch in the corner. Wonwoo sat beside him, offering quiet comfort without saying much. Joshua appreciated that. He wasn’t great with words, and being around someone who didn’t expect much from him felt like a relief.

For a while, things were okay. He kept his head low and let Wonwoo’s presence shield him from the rest.

But then Wonwoo was called downstairs for something, and Joshua was left alone again.

Not long after, a drunk man stumbled over and slumped down beside him.

Joshua tensed immediately. He moved away slightly, trying to make it clear he didn’t want company. But the guy didn’t seem to care.

The man leaned in closer, slurring something Joshua couldn’t understand. Then, his hand landed on Joshua’s thigh—and started to slide inward.

Joshua froze. His heart started pounding. He tried shifting again, but the man followed him, his hand still on him.

That was the last straw.

Joshua grabbed the man’s wrist, yanked it up, and twisted his arm behind his back. The man screamed, falling to his knees in pain.

“You crazy—!”

Joshua stared down at him coldly. “Do I look like someone you can mess with?” he said, voice low but firm.

The guy squirmed in pain, yelling, “Let me go! It hurts!”

People around the room turned to watch, but no one moved to stop it. No one tried to help. They just stared.

Joshua’s grip tightened. “Perverts like you need to learn boundaries.”

He was about to pull the guy up and hand him over to the authorities when Jeonghan suddenly appeared.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jeonghan’s sharp voice cut through the room.

Joshua looked up, surprised. “This guy tried to touch me—”

“Let him go.”

Joshua blinked, shocked. “What?”

“I said let him go,” Jeonghan repeated, stepping forward.

Joshua couldn’t believe it. He knew Jeonghan disliked him, but this was too much.

“I’m calling the police. He can’t just—”

Before he could finish, Jeonghan grabbed the guy and forcefully separated them. In the process, he shoved Joshua backward.

Joshua stumbled and crashed onto the floor, landing hard on his left hand. Pain shot up his arm, sharp and sudden. He winced, clutching it tightly.

But even through the pain, what hurt more was watching Jeonghan help the drunk man to his feet, brushing him off like nothing had happened.

Jeonghan looked back at Joshua one last time, his expression unreadable.

“I never should’ve brought you here. You’re just a pain in the ass. No wonder you have no friends.”

Then he turned around and left the room without another word.

Slowly, the others began walking away too, one by one. Some looked amused, others disgusted. No one offered help. No one cared.

Joshua sat there on the floor, alone, his hand throbbing and his heart hurting even more.

Dokyeom glanced sideways at Joshua from the driver’s seat. His friend sat silently in the passenger seat, cradling his injured hand carefully against his chest. His posture was stiff, and he hadn’t said a word since they got in the car.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Dokyeom asked gently, trying not to break the fragile silence.

Joshua gave a small nod, eyes still fixed on the road ahead. He didn’t trust his voice. The pain in his hand was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside his head.

Jeonghan’s words kept replaying like a broken record, echoing louder with every second.

“I shouldn’t have even brought you here. You’re just a pain in the ass. No wonder you have no friends.”

Was it true? Was he really that unbearable? Should he have just stayed quiet and let that man do whatever he wanted?

His chest felt tight. His throat burned. He blinked rapidly when his vision blurred, willing the tears to stay back. He didn’t want Dokyeom to see him cry.

“How long will it take more?” he finally asked, his voice quiet and strained.

“Not much longer. I’m heading to the nearest hospital,” Dokyeom answered, offering a small smile even though worry flickered in his eyes. He could feel how fragile Joshua was right now, like a porcelain figure with cracks running through him.

But Joshua just fell silent again. His gaze dropped to his lap, where his injured hand rested. 

He was tired. Tired of the pain, the isolation, the constant judgment. Of being misunderstood, blamed, and ignored.

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep going like this.

More than anything, in that moment, Joshua wished he could escape. This life, this pain, this curse he never asked for.

In just a few minutes, they pulled up to the hospital. Dokyeom quickly parked the car and helped Joshua out, supporting him gently by the good arm. Joshua didn’t say a word. He just followed, his injured hand still cradled to his chest.

Inside the emergency room, Dokyeom stayed close beside him, guiding him in until the nurse took over.

“I’ll go handle the paperwork,” Dokyeom said softly before rushing off, glancing back once with worried eyes.

Joshua was led in for an X-ray. The silence in the cold room made him feel even more alone. The pain in his arm was sharp, but it didn’t bother him nearly as much as the echo of Jeonghan’s voice in his head, no matter how much he tried to shrug it off.

The results came back quickly, his arm was fractured. The doctor gently cleaned the swelling and applied a plaster cast over his left arm. He was told to avoid any strain and get rest for at least a couple of weeks.

Joshua walked back to the waiting area, his left arm now stiff in white plaster. He sat on one of the plastic chairs, eyes distant, still replaying everything from the party.

Suddenly, chaos erupted.

The automatic doors flew open and several nurses rushed inside with a stretcher. Doctors followed closely, giving instructions. Joshua looked up from his seat, startled by the sudden commotion.

“Car accident,” one of the staff whispered as they passed. “Severe head trauma. Internal bleeding, maybe.”

Joshua sighed. Poor guy. Looks serious, he thought. Sometimes I wish it were me instead. Just to get a break from all this...

His gaze accidentally followed the stretcher as it rolled past him.

That’s when he saw the boy’s face.

Pale. Blood smeared across his cheek and forehead. Unconscious.

Young.

Too young.

And—familiar?

Joshua leaned forward a little. Something about that face tugged at his memory. The sharp nose, the curve of the lips, the soft features… It was strange.

It was like looking in a mirror .

Before he could make sense of what he was seeing, a nurse suddenly appeared in front of him, slightly breathless.

“You’re with patient Jisoo, right?” she asked, her voice hurried but confident.

“Wh—no, I think you’ve got the wrong—”

“There’s no time,” she interrupted, already grabbing his wrist. “Your brother’s condition is critical. We need your signature for immediate surgery.”

“Brother?” Joshua repeated, stunned. “I don’t have—”

But she wasn’t listening. She pulled him along the hallway quickly, past rows of people, until they stopped beside the stretcher from earlier.

And now, up close, Joshua saw him clearly.

The boy.

The one who looked just like him.

His eyes widened. His breath caught. He couldn’t move.

They were identical.

The resemblance was so strong, it was almost impossible. Like seeing himself lying there, bruised and bleeding, barely breathing.

“Are you his twin?” one of the doctors asked, confused by his silence.

But Joshua couldn’t respond. His lips parted, but no sound came out. His mind was frozen.

Everyone around him mistook his shock for grief. The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder gently. “I know this is a lot to take in. But we really need consent for the surgery. He might not survive without it.”

A nurse handed him a pen and a form to sign. Joshua stared at them blankly. Then at the boy again.

He signed.

His hand moved on its own.

The moment the paper was signed, the staff sprang into action again. They wheeled the boy, Jisoo, away into the operating room.

And just like that, Joshua was left standing in the hallway.

Alone.

Still staring at the doors that had closed behind him.

Still wondering how someone who looked exactly like him could suddenly appear like that.

Just at that moment, Dokyeom came running around the corner, out of breath and wide-eyed. “Hyung! Are you okay?” he knelt in front of Joshua, scanning him in panic. His hands moved over Joshua’s arms, his knees, then hovered over the cast. “You’re not bleeding… no head wound… what happened? You look okay to me!”

Joshua blinked slowly, still sitting on the bench, his eyes dazed. His thoughts were spinning in too many directions. He looked down at Dokyeom, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kyeom-ah… I’m not okay.”

Dokyeom immediately stilled. His voice softened with concern. “Why? Are you hurt somewhere else? Do you have an internal injury? Why did the nurse say you were in the operation area? What—”

“I’m not injured.” Joshua shook his head slowly. His voice wavered, his lips barely able to form the words. “Dokyeom… I have a twin.”

That made Dokyeom pause completely. He blinked a few times and leaned back just slightly, searching Joshua’s expression like he was trying to detect a lie or a joke. “Hyung… what?”

“I said I have a twin,” Joshua repeated, this time looking him dead in the eyes. “Exactly like me. Same face. Same features. He’s in there… in the operating room.”

Dokyeom gaped at him. “Hyung, you’re really sick.” His brows furrowed deeply. “You must have hit your head or something. You don’t have a twin! You’d have known—”

“I’m not imagining it, Dokyeom.” Joshua’s voice was firm now. “I saw him. Everyone else saw him too. The nurses… the doctors… they thought I was his brother. They asked me to sign the surgery consent papers. And I did.”

Before Dokyeom could fully process that, the emergency room doors opened again, and the same doctor came rushing out. He pulled down his mask to speak clearly. “Mr. Hong?” he asked, glancing between the two.

Joshua stood up. “Yes?”

“The patient’s condition is very unstable. He has some severe head injury. It might lead to temporary amnesia. We need to transfer him to a better facility immediately. Do you have any hospital reference in Seoul? Somewhere with a trauma team on standby?”

Joshua froze for only a second. Then something clicked in his brain.

Yes. There was someone.

“I do,” he said quickly. “I have someone at Sebong Hospital.”

He turned to Dokyeom with urgency. “Call Jihoon. Now.”

Dokyeom blinked again, still clearly overwhelmed, but he trusted Joshua. “M-my brother? Lee Jihoon? You want him?”

Joshua nodded. “He’s a surgeon there, isn’t he? Call him. Ask if he can pull strings. We need to move him to Sebong as fast as possible.”

Dokyeom, still shocked, pulled out his phone with shaking hands. As he stepped aside to make the call, Joshua sat down again, staring at the operation room door.

Dokyeom sat quietly beside Joshua after hanging up the phone with his brother Jihoon. The ambulance was already on its way, but the tension in the room hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown heavier. Joshua sat still, eyes locked on the wall in front of him like he was watching something only he could see.

“Hyung…” Dokyeom said cautiously, “Can you please tell me what exactly you’re trying to do here?”

Joshua didn’t answer right away. He looked calm on the outside, but Dokyeom knew him too well. That kind of silence usually came right before Joshua dropped something big.

“Lee Dokyeom,” he said, his tone colder than usual, “listen to me very carefully from now on.”

Dokyeom instinctively straightened up. That voice, he only heard it when Joshua had made up his mind about something impossible. And it always scared him.

Joshua continued. “I’m not going back.”

“What do you mean, hyung?” Dokyeom frowned, already bracing himself.

Joshua raised a hand to stop him. “Just listen.”

He looked away, staring somewhere far off. “I’m going to switch places with that boy, Jisoo. From now on, he’s going to be Joshua Hong. And I’ll be Hong Jisoo.”

Dokyeom stared at him like he’d gone mad. “What?! Are you serious? Hyung, are you even listening to yourself? We don’t know anything about this Jisoo! What if he’s- what if he’s dangerous? A criminal? What if he wakes up and—”

“I don’t think he is,” Joshua said, cutting him off. His voice softened for a moment. “I don’t know how to explain it, Kyeom-ah… but when I saw him, it felt… I just knew. He’s not like that. And also, he has an amnesia. He doesn’t even remember himself.”

“Hyung, you’re basing everything on a feeling?!” Dokyeom was starting to panic now. “You can’t just erase yourself like this! Why do you have to go so far?”

Joshua’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled slightly over the edge of his cast. “Because I’m tired.”

He didn’t yell. He didn’t even raise his voice. But Dokyeom felt the weight of those three words settle in his chest.

“I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m tired of being the ‘perfect’ Joshua Hong everyone expects. I'm not perfect. I never was. But no one ever listens.” His eyes shimmered, but he blinked the tears away. “I just… I want to start over. Even if it’s just as someone else.”

Dokyeom looked at him with a hundred thoughts in his mind. But all that came out was, “And you think Jisoo can be that ‘Joshua Hong’? Just like that?”

“No,” Joshua shook his head. “It won’t be easy. But that’s why you’ll help him. He’s got my face. He just needs the rest.” Joshua continued, steady and calm, “You’re going to help me. Help him. You’ll teach him everything about my life. How I speak, how I act, who I know. You’ll help him become the Joshua Hong everyone wants.”

“And what about you, hyung?” Dokyeom asked, his voice cracking slightly. “What happens to you?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Joshua replied, firm again. “But this is the only thing I’ll ever ask of you. Please, Kyeom-ah.”

Dokyeom looked down at the floor, his chest tightening. He didn’t know how this was going to work. He didn’t even know if it would. But one thing was clear, Joshua had made his decision. And if he walked away now, Joshua would do it alone.

“…Okay,” Dokyeom finally whispered. “I’ll help. But hyung, what if we get caught?”

Joshua gave him a small smile, tired but full of something close to peace. “We won’t. I’ll make sure of it. And if we do, I’ll take all the blame.”

Just then, a nurse came rushing over. “The ambulance is ready. We’re taking the patient to Sebong Hospital now.”

Joshua stood up and nodded. “Take him. I’ll contact Dr. Jihoon later.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Dokyeom asked, surprised.

Joshua gave him one last smile. It wasn’t big, but it was genuine. “No. From now on, I’m Jisoo. And this is where I belong.”

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to Dokyeom . “I have Jisoo’s phone with me. Keep this safe. Use it to help him. I’ll call you soon.”

Dokyeom looked at him, wanting to say something else, but he just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Joshua reached out, gently patting his shoulder. “I’m trusting you, Dokyeom-ah.”

Without another word, Joshua turned around and walked down the quiet hospital corridor, leaving behind the name, life, and pain of being Joshua Hong.

Chapter Text

Joshua sat in the quiet hospital waiting room, long after Dokyeom had left with Jisoo. His casted arm rested stiffly on his lap, but the real weight pressing down on him was in his chest. Everything he had decided felt so final now. There was no turning back.

He stared at the white walls, the smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. Who even is Jisoo? he thought. He was about to live someone else’s life without knowing the first thing about that person. It was insane. But what choice did he have?

After a few more minutes of sitting in silence, Joshua finally stood and walked slowly over to the reception desk. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to sound calm. “Do you have any personal belongings for the patient—uh, Jisoo?” 

The nurse gave him a small nod and disappeared into the back. She returned with a worn black backpack and a thick sketchbook tucked under her arm. “This was with him when he was brought in,” she said, handing them over.

“Thank you,” Joshua mumbled, bowing slightly before heading back to the seat with the bag.

His curiosity got the better of him. He unzipped the backpack first. Just some necessities, snacks and a phone charger, nothing personal. Then he opened the sketchbook.

And stopped. 

Page after page was filled with detailed pencil drawings. Trees, alleyways, old rooftops, café interiors. Every sketch had a calmness to it. The kind of calm Joshua hadn’t felt in years. Jisoo had talent, real talent. His strokes were precise, confident, expressive. It was the kind of art that came from someone who saw the world differently.

Joshua felt a pang in his chest. He couldn’t even draw a stick figure without messing it up.

He flipped a few more pages, admiring the artwork, until suddenly the subject of the drawings changed. A face appeared. Then again on the next page. And the one after that.

The same man. Again and again.

Sometimes he was smiling. Other times looking away. Some sketches were half-done, as if Jisoo had drawn from memory. But there was no mistaking it—this man meant something.

Then he saw it. On the corner of one sketch, written in soft pencil, Choi Seungcheol.

Joshua blinked. “Wait… is this Jisoo’s… boyfriend?” 

He stared at the name again. It was underlined.

Oh no.

A quiet panic bubbled in his chest. He hadn’t thought this through. What if Jisoo really had a boyfriend? Would he have to pretend to be in love? What if this Seungcheol found out something was off? Joshua barely understood romantic relationships, let alone pretending to be in one.

He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. “Great. I can't even fake liking people. How the hell am I supposed to fake a whole relationship?”

But then he looked down again at the sketches. Jisoo had poured something real into those drawings. Affection. Longing. Maybe even love. Joshua’s expression softened.

“I’ll figure it out,” he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud would make it true. Even if it meant fumbling through someone else’s love story. He had no choice but to play the part now.

Joshua groaned, his fingers tightening slightly around the sketchbook. The last thing he wanted right now was to play boyfriend to a complete stranger. He was about to stand and leave when a deep, warm voice called out behind him.

“Jisoo!”

Before he could fully turn around, strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Joshua’s face was pressed into a broad chest, and the scent of something clean, soap filled his senses. The warmth of the hug caught him off guard.

His brain stopped for a moment.

“W-wait! My arm—” he managed to croak, his left arm trapped uncomfortably between them.

Immediately, the man pulled back in a panic, his eyes full of guilt. “Shit—sorry! I didn’t know. Did I hurt you?”

Joshua shook his head, eyes going wide as he finally looked at the man properly. He was tall, sturdy, with warm brown eyes and a soft expression that didn’t quite match his rugged frame. And then it clicked.

Joshua’s stomach twisted. It’s him. 

The man from all those sketches. The one Jisoo had drawn so many times.

Joshua was now panicking internally. His brain screamed at him to say something. Anything. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not this soon.

Before he could settle on anything to say, the man, Seungcheol, spoke again, softer this time. “Soo… you don’t recognize me?”

The hurt in his voice made Joshua’s chest ache. He hadn’t expected Seungcheol to look so wounded.

“I—It’s nothing serious,” Joshua said quickly, forcing out a small, sheepish smile. “I hit my head a bit during the accident. My memory’s a bit foggy, that’s all.” He pointed vaguely at his head.

Seungcheol's brows knit together in concern. “But… you know me, right?”

Joshua nodded. “You’re… Choi Seungcheol. Right?”

That seemed to calm him a little. He smiled, relieved but there was still sadness lingering in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely convinced. Or maybe he saw something different in Joshua already. That thought made Joshua’s stomach clench.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seungcheol asked again, his voice gentle as he scanned Joshua from head to toe like a worried parent. “The hospital staff said you were in pretty bad shape.” 

Jisoo didn’t notice at first but Seungcheol was wearing the white apron.

So, he is a doctor? My boy, Jisoo got himself a rich boyfriend at least. Joshua thought. 

“I’m fine. Just a fractured arm and a bump to the head,” Joshua muttered, trying not to sound too awkward.

Seungcheol frowned. “Your head looks fine though…”

“Oh—I mean, it’s internal. Like, uh… not bleeding or anything! Just because of trauma. Or shock or whatever-” Joshua stammered, trying to sound convincing.

Seungcheol’s eyes went wide. “Internal bleeding?! That sounds serious!”

“What?! No! You idiot—it’s not that serious!” Joshua blurted without thinking.

“I’m just a little messed up mentally right now, okay?! I forget things—I get confused! It’s nothing!” Joshua snapped, flustered and frustrated. Mostly at himself.

A few people nearby turned their heads at the sudden shouting, but Joshua didn’t notice—he was too focused on trying to fix the misunderstanding. Seungcheol, however, had gone quiet, staring at him with surprise. His expression was a mix of concern and confusion, clearly taken aback by the outburst.

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol spoke again, this time much more gently. “I’m sorry… let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

Joshua looked at him, this big, softhearted man who clearly loved someone he wasn’t, and gave a small nod.

“Okay,” he said, quietly.

As they walked side by side toward the exit, Joshua’s heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest. 

This is going to be harder than I thought.

Seungcheol offered to drive him home, and Joshua didn’t refuse. He didn’t even know where home was supposed to be now. So, for now, he needed to play along. If nothing else, this ride would help him find out where Jisoo lived.

The drive was quiet, uncomfortably so. The engine’s low hum and the occasional passing car filled the silence between them. Joshua had expected Seungcheol to be the chatty type, especially after the overly emotional hug back at the hospital. But now, he was quiet, composed and almost distant.

Joshua glanced at him from the corner of his eye. His hands were gripping the wheel tightly, knuckles faintly white. He looked tense. Cautious, maybe. Joshua wondered if something had happened between them, between Jisoo and Seungcheol. A fight? A misunderstanding? The silence was pressing down on them both, heavy and unspoken.

Then finally, Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Jisoo… by any chance…” He hesitated. “Did Soeun come to find you? Did she… do something?”

Joshua’s head snapped toward him at the mention of a new name. Soeun? He felt his stomach twist in confusion. His fingers fumbled nervously with the hem of his shirt, unsure how to react. Was she a friend? An ex? Someone dangerous?

“I… uh…” he began, trying to buy time, but Seungcheol kept talking.

“I broke up with her yesterday,” he said, voice low and cautious, like he was walking on eggshells. “Then this happened to you today. And… you know how she can be sometimes.”

Joshua blinked. Wait. What?

He almost let out a disbelieving laugh. This was turning into a soap opera. First, he thought Seungcheol was Jisoo’s boyfriend based on all those emotional sketches and Seungcheol’s emotional actions. Now Seungcheol was talking about breaking up with some girl named Soeun and somehow tying it to Jisoo's accident?

Joshua’s mind spiraled. Were Seungcheol and Jisoo not actually dating? Was Jisoo maybe just in love with him from afar? Did I completely misunderstand their relationship?

He kept his expression as neutral as possible, nodding slightly, pretending to think. “I… I don’t really remember much,” he said softly, his voice deliberately vague. “Sorry. It’s all a blur.”

Seungcheol sighed through his nose, his gaze still fixed on the road. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Joshua turned to look out the window, hiding the troubled look on his face. This is more complicated than I thought. Now, not only did he have to become Jisoo, he had to navigate a tangled web of relationships and secrets he knew nothing about.

One wrong move, and the whole thing could fall apart.

The place Jisoo lived in was a small two-floor building tucked between some taller apartments. It looked old but clean, with a narrow staircase that led to the second floor. Jisoo’s apartment was small—just one room with a bed, a small table, a desk, and a tiny kitchen in the corner. Strangely, the room was filled with ruined and torn paintings. It seemed like someone intentionally did that out of anger. But everything looked neat and carefully arranged except that, like Jisoo liked keeping things in order even if he lived alone.

After Seungcheol left, the apartment felt too quiet. Joshua stood in the middle of the room, taking it all in. This was his life now, at least for a while.

His stomach suddenly growled loud, reminding him he hadn’t eaten all day. Not even at the party. He walked to the kitchen, hoping to find something quick to eat, but the fridge was nearly empty. Just an opened bottle of water, a soy sauce bottle, and an old-looking box of almond milk. The cabinets weren’t any better—no noodles, no snacks, nothing he could eat right away.

“What did you even eat, Jisoo?” Joshua sighed, rubbing his stomach.

He didn’t have any money on him. Not even a coin. In a last-ditch effort, he rummaged through Jisoo’s bag and found a small amount of cash tucked in a side pocket. But it wasn’t nearly enough—not for groceries, not even for instant ramen.

With a groan, Joshua leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling in defeat. He had no choice.

Out of desperation, he grabbed Jisoo’s phone and dialed Dokyeom’s number. The line rang twice before it picked up.

“...Hello?” came the voice on the other end, soft and cautious, like he had been anxiously waiting.

“It’s me,” Joshua said bluntly.

He heard Dokyeom breathe out, like someone had just released him from a tight grip. “Hyung! Why are you calling so late?! I’ve been dying from anxiety here!” Dokyeom half-whined, voice cracking like he was one second away from crying.

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Stop your pathetic whining and send me some money.”

“...What?” A pause. “Hyung, seriously?”

“Shut up. I’m broke. There’s no food here. I’m starving.”

There was a short silence before Joshua continued, voice sharp and commanding. “And while you’re at it, do a background check on Jisoo. His life, his friends, everything. I want to know who this Seungcheol is. And Soeun. Everything about them.”

Another beat of silence. This time longer.

“How do I even do that?” Dokyeom finally asked, sounding both confused and horrified.

“You can. Isn’t your brother-in-law that guy who does all the digging?”

“For your kind information, His name is Kwon Soonyoung. And he’s a licensed detective, not your personal spy.”

“I’ll pay him,” Joshua cut in without missing a beat. “Just tell him to do it. Are you trying to disobey me now, Lee Dokyeom? Are you already forgetting who you work for, you betrayer?!”

“N-No! Hyung—I didn’t mean—!”

“I want the full report by tomorrow. And send me money. Now.” Joshua hung up before Dokyeom could say anything else.

He slumped onto the couch, phone still in hand, stomach rumbling louder than his thoughts. The apartment was cold and quiet. He was knee-deep in someone else’s life, and now he didn’t even have a damn snack to get him through it.

Dokyeom stared at his phone in disbelief after Joshua hung up on him. His jaw dropped slightly as he blinked at the screen, stunned. Then, he scoffed and leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh. “Now he’s suffering,” he mumbled to himself. Honestly, it was bound to happen.

He had warned Joshua so many times. Living as Jisoo wasn’t going to be easy. Their lives were like night and day. Jisoo was a quiet kid, an orphan who lived alone and had to work hard for everything. Joshua, on the other hand, was used to luxury—fancy clothes, private drivers, meals served on silver platters. He never had to worry about money or deal with real problems.

And now, here he was. Hungry, broke, and stuck in a life that didn’t revolve around him. Dokyeom almost felt bad. Almost.

With a loud sigh, he opened his banking app and transferred some money from his own account. Then he typed a quick message, “Sent. You better pay me back.”

He rolled his eyes before tossing the phone aside. “This guy better not think I’m his personal bank now,” he muttered, shaking his head. But deep down, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d have to bail Joshua out.

Right at that moment, the VIP room’s door was thrown open with a loud bang. Mrs. Hong rushed inside, clearly out of breath, her expensive heels clicking sharply against the floor as she hurried over to the hospital bed where Jisoo lay unconscious. Just behind her came Mr. Yoon, composed but tense, and Jeonghan, who looked like he had been dragged there against his will. Dokyeom could tell by the stiffness in Jeonghan’s posture and the way he avoided looking at the bed.

Mrs. Hong’s eyes widened in horror when she saw Jisoo. Her face paled. “What’s wrong? Why is he like this? He was perfectly fine a few hours ago,” she said, her voice high and panicked.

Dokyeom took a deep breath, bracing himself for the fake explanation he had prepared just minutes earlier. “It was… a road accident.”

“A road accident?!” Mrs. Hong’s voice cracked as she turned on him. “How could that happen? Where were you? Weren’t you with him?”

Her words were sharp, almost accusatory, but Dokyeom had expected it. He opened his mouth to respond, but then, his gaze shifted to Jeonghan.

There he was, standing quietly, arms crossed, pretending to be unaffected. But Dokyeom wasn’t fooled. Just the sight of him made his blood boil. If anyone was responsible for Joshua wanting to disappear, it was Yoon Jeonghan. If anyone pushed Joshua into this mess, it was him. And because of that, Dokyeom was now stuck here, trying to keep the lie alive.

So, he smiled, just a little. A small, sharp smirk that no one noticed. His voice was calm as he spoke again.

“Actually… I don’t really know. Joshua hyung was with Jeonghan hyung all night,” he said, letting the sentence hang just long enough for everyone to absorb the meaning.

“I thought they wanted some time alone, so I left them. But when Joshua hyung came out later, he looked devastated. Like… like he’d been crying. He said he wanted to get some fresh air, so I gave him some space.” Dokyeom shrugged slightly, lowering his eyes, pretending to sound regretful. “I didn’t think anything would happen.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. The story wasn’t entirely false. Joshua had looked broken and it was because of Jeonghan. Dokyeom just twisted the truth a little. Enough to let Jeonghan taste the blame.

Everyone’s eyes immediately turned to Jeonghan. The air in the room shifted, heavy with tension. But it was Mr. Yoon’s stare that made the young man freeze in place. His father’s eyes were sharp, unreadable, but filled with silent fury. Jeonghan visibly tensed under the pressure.

“What happened at the party, Jeonghan?” Mr. Yoon asked, his voice calm, but that unnerving, dangerous kind of calm that came just before a storm.

Jeonghan’s throat tightened. “N-nothing,” he stammered, barely able to look up.

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the sterile hospital room like a gunshot.

Everyone flinched.

Jeonghan stumbled slightly, clutching the left side of his face as a red mark bloomed across his cheek. The pain shot through his jaw, but he didn’t make a sound. He just stood still, too stunned to react.

“Jeongwoo-yah!” Mrs. Hong gasped, grabbing his arm in an attempt to stop him from raising his hand again. Her face was a mixture of shock and helplessness.

Mr. Yoon didn’t spare her a glance. His focus was solely on his son. “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said, his voice now ice-cold, authority ringing in every word.

Jeonghan’s lips trembled. It took him a moment to gather the courage to speak.

“There was… a problem,” he said quietly. “With the son of the Jung family. He… he tried to touch Joshua. But he was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

Mr. Yoon’s eyes narrowed. “And you stood there? You didn’t do anything?”

Jeonghan looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

The room fell into a strained silence again. The slap still hung in the air, along with Jeonghan’s guilt. 

“You. Follow me,” Mr. Yoon ordered in a low, controlled voice before turning on his heel and walking out of the room without waiting for a response.

Jeonghan hesitated for a second. His eyes drifted to the hospital bed, one last glance at the unconscious Jisoo, his expression unreadable, guilt flickering beneath the surface. Then, without a word, he followed after his father.

Mrs. Hong had already settled beside the bed, gently brushing Jisoo’s hair back with trembling fingers, completely unaware that the person lying there wasn’t the son she had raised. Her touch was full of concern, her presence quiet but maternal.

Dokyeom stood nearby, stiff and silent, heart pounding in his chest. He kept his eyes low, hands clasped behind his back, praying, begging that no one would see through the fragile lie they had wrapped so tightly around themselves.

Joshua stirred awake as a sliver of morning sunlight stretched across his face. He groaned softly, squinting at the brightness before slowly sitting up on the couch. His stomach grumbled almost instantly, a sharp reminder that he had fallen asleep hungry the night before.

Still groggy, he reached for the phone lying on the nearby table. There was a notification, money had been transferred from Dokyeom, along with a short, passive-aggressive message reminding him to pay it back. Joshua rolled his eyes but felt a small wave of relief. At least he wouldn’t starve today.

He made his way to the washroom and splashed water on his face, the coldness jolting him more awake. He considered taking a shower, but with one hand wrapped in a cast, the thought alone felt exhausting. After struggling briefly with his shirt, he gave up with a sigh.

With some effort, Joshua got dressed and decided to step out to buy food. He was halfway to the door when the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. He froze.

His chest tightened. He wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with anyone, not with his mind still adjusting to Jisoo’s life and not on an empty stomach. But he knew he couldn’t avoid it. Avoiding people would only make things harder.

He hesitated for a few seconds before finally unlocking the door and pulling it open. Standing there was Seungcheol, looking as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

Joshua didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more anxious. Of all the people, why did it have to be him?

“Why are you here?” Joshua asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol smiled softly, the kind that felt warm without trying too hard. “Just checking up on you. You haven’t had breakfast yet, right?”

Joshua hesitated, then gave a small nod. He still wasn’t sure if he could fully trust this man, but something about Seungcheol’s presence didn’t feel threatening. If anything, it felt kinda safe.

Without a word, Seungcheol reached out and gently took Joshua’s uninjured hand in his. His grip was light, hesitant, giving Joshua every chance to pull away if he wanted to. But Joshua didn’t.

For some reason he couldn’t explain, he didn’t mind it. So he let Seungcheol guide him out the door, down the steps, and toward the car waiting outside.

Seungcheol brought him to a small café tucked away on a quiet street. The place was peaceful, with soft lighting and the faint sound of music playing in the background. It smelled like cinnamon, coffee, and something sweet baking in the oven. Joshua followed him silently, unsure if this calmness felt comforting or just made everything feel more surreal.

He sat down by the window, his cast resting stiffly on the table. He didn’t look around much. His thoughts were too scattered.

Seungcheol went up to order without asking what he wanted. Joshua didn’t mind. He didn’t have the energy to decide anything anyway.

A few minutes later, Seungcheol returned with a tray. On it was a neat slice of carrot cake, a large vanilla frappe covered in a swirl of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and an iced Americano.

Joshua stared at the drink in front of him. It looked like a sugar bomb. His stomach turned just looking at it. But then Seungcheol placed it in front of him with a smile, like he was offering something comforting.

“You haven’t eaten yet, right? Thought I’d buy you something you like.”

Joshua looked at the cake, then at the drink. Sweet, way too sweet. He already felt a headache coming. But he said nothing.

He picked up the fork and poked at the cake, nibbling slowly. Seungcheol watched him for a moment.

“You’re not eating much,” he said gently. “But you love carrot cake though.”

Joshua paused. He nodded slowly, pretending he agreed. There was no point in correcting him.

So, Jisoo had a sweet tooth. That was going to be a problem.

He pushed the cake around his plate, trying to make it look like he was eating more than he was. Across the table, Seungcheol quietly sipped his Americano, not pressing him further.

Joshua took a small bite of the carrot cake, and immediately regretted it. It was too sweet. His tongue felt like it had been dipped in syrup. Instinctively, he reached for the drink, hoping it would help wash it down. But the moment the thick vanilla frappe hit his throat, he gagged and ended up coughing it all back out.

The sudden sound drew Seungcheol’s attention. He hurried over, a look of concern etched on his face, holding a napkin in his hand.

Joshua expected him to simply hand it over. But instead, Seungcheol gently dabbed the corners of his mouth himself.

Joshua froze.

Seungcheol was close, closer than anyone had been in a long time. He could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against his cheek. For a moment, everything else around them faded into a quiet blur. Joshua didn’t know where to look or how to react.

It wasn’t until a few seconds later that Seungcheol seemed to realize the tension too. His eyes flickered, and he slowly handed Joshua the tissue, pulling back with a slightly awkward motion.

Neither of them said anything.

There was a brief glitch in time, both unsure of what just happened or how to smooth it over.

Then Seungcheol suddenly stood up, clearing his throat. “Ah… I’m gonna go to the washroom,” he mumbled, already turning away.

Joshua just nodded, barely audible, watching him go.

When he was sure Seungcheol was out of sight, Joshua pushed the untouched frappe aside and quietly reached for the iced Americano instead, Seungcheol’s drink. The bitter taste was like relief after the sweetness. It grounded him a little.

“Jisoo…?”

The moment couldn’t last. Once again, peace was short-lived as a shrill, high-pitched voice echoed across the café, calling out the name he now wore. Joshua closed his eyes in annoyance, exhaling sharply before turning around. Did he ever get a moment of silence?

This time it was a girl, caked in heavy makeup, wearing a dress far too short for comfort, her heels towering and clacking across the floor with unnecessary drama.

Her eyes locked onto Joshua’s face. She stopped in her tracks, face draining of color. “H-How are y-you alive…?” she stammered, visibly trembling.

That caught him off guard.

Joshua narrowed his eyes, a cold suspicion crawling into his chest. How did she know about the accident? That wasn’t something anyone knew about, he was sure of it. Which meant this girl was more involved than she should be.

“Why?” Joshua asked, voice laced with calm accusation. “Were you hoping I wouldn’t make it?”

“N-No…” she muttered, clearly shaken.

Joshua stepped closer, his voice dropping lower, sharper. “You seem pretty surprised”, he pressed, voice sharp but calm, watching the girl’s face twitch in panic. “Disappointed I survived?”

The girl took a step back. Her hands were shaking slightly as she tried to keep a composed look. But her eyes gave her away, wide and darting, as if cornered. “Jisoo, y-you better not tell anyone about that night—or I—”

Joshua cut her off with a dry scoff. “Or what? You’ll try again? You’ll actually kill me this time?”

That hit her. Her eyes widened in full-blown panic, her body trembling. “You bitch!” she shrieked and lunged forward, grabbing a nearby glass of water from a table.

Joshua didn’t even flinch.

Joshua caught her wrist mid-swing and twisted it upward with ease. The water splashed, not on him, but on her, cascading down her hair and soaking her expensive outfit.

Everyone nearby froze.

“Soeun! Stop!” Seungcheol appeared, rushing over at the exact moment, but paused in shock when he saw what actually happened. His eyes flicked between the stunned Soeun, dripping wet and furious, and Joshua, calm and steady, holding the overturned glass in one hand like it was nothing.

Soeun gasped, face red with embarrassment and rage. “You little—!”

Joshua leaned in just slightly, his voice a low threat, “Next time, don’t even think of messing with me.”

Then he shoved her hand away and turned to Seungcheol with the most innocent smile he could muster. “Let’s go.”

Seungcheol blinked, still processing the scene. Seungcheol could only nod, still a little stunned by what had just happened. His eyes lingered on Joshua, trying to piece together the version of him that had just flipped Soeun’s attack back onto her like it was nothing. He had never seen Jisoo act this boldly before, never this calm, composed, and fierce all at once.

There was no hesitation, no fear in his eyes. It didn’t match the soft, quiet boy he used to know. But it wasn’t unwelcome.

In fact, something about it made Seungcheol’s chest tighten.

It was subtle at first, but undeniable. The flutter in his heart wasn’t from shock, it was from something else entirely.

Something like admiration. Something dangerously close to attraction.

He swallowed hard and followed Joshua out, the sound of Soeun’s frustrated huff still lingering behind them. But Seungcheol couldn’t bring himself to care. His thoughts were too tangled with the image of Joshua, his steady gaze, his sharp voice, the curve of that satisfied smile. And Seungcheol knew, completely that this moment was going to live in his head all day. There was no way he’d be able to shake it off anytime soon.

Not the twist of the wrist joshua did. Not the way his voice dropped when he said, “Let’s go.” Not that sly, innocent smile that followed it all like nothing even happened.

Yeah. Seungcheol was doomed. Because this time, it wasn’t just concern. It wasn’t just habit, or guilt, or old memories. This time, he was falling, slowly, helplessly, for his friend.

Chapter Text

“I want you to take care of Joshua when he wakes up.”

Jeonghan’s father’s words echoed in Jeonghan’s mind like a broken record, playing over and over again, each time more infuriating. Jeonghan clenched his jaw tightly, his hands balled into fists at his sides. That was exactly why he hated Joshua, down to the very core of his being.

His father has always loved Joshua more. No matter what happened, Joshua got away with everything. He was the golden boy, the favorite, the one who could do no wrong. It was as if his father saw Joshua as more of a son than Jeonghan himself. And for Jeonghan, Joshua had always been a thorn in his side, a constant reminder that no matter how perfect he tried to be, he would never be enough.

He had rushed to the hospital only because his father had ordered him to. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come. There was no concern in his heart, only resentment. Now, he sat stiffly outside the VIP room, arms crossed, a storm quietly brewing in his chest as he waited for the doctors to finish their examination.

The news had already broken. Joshua was suffering from amnesia.

“What a hassle,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. He believed this is just another excuse for Joshua to steal everyone’s attention all over again.

But Jeonghan could feel it, that piercing stare drilling a hole into the side of his head. He didn’t need to guess. As he turned his head slightly, his suspicion was confirmed. Dokyeom stood across the hallway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unwavering, practically burning with distrust.

Dokyeom had already given him an earful the moment he arrived—loud, emotional, and absolutely clear that he didn’t want Jeonghan anywhere near Joshua. Jeonghan didn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t trust himself either. But it wasn’t like he had a choice. He was forced to be here, dragged into this situation by his father’s command. And Dokyeom, despite his protests, had been ordered to leave them alone.

So now, they were stuck, both unwilling, both bitter, both helpless.

Dokyeom’s phone rang again. It had been going off nonstop for the last ten minutes. Jeonghan knew the guy worked under the Hongs, and with how persistent the calls were, it was probably something urgent from the company. Still, Dokyeom refused to leave, hovering close like a watchdog, guarding Joshua with his life.

“You can go if you’re busy,” Jeonghan said flatly, his voice lacking any real warmth. “I’m not gonna bite him, you know?”

Dokyeom didn’t even flinch. “I know you’re not gonna bite him,” he said, eyes narrowing. “But what if you kill him?”

Jeonghan let out a scoff, head tilting as he raised an unimpressed brow. “I’m not dumb enough to kill him in a hospital VIP room, with security cameras literally everywhere.”

It was a fair point, even if the sarcasm was unnecessary. Dokyeom’s jaw clenched as his phone buzzed again, louder this time. The name on the screen—Soonyoung. That meant it was serious. If Soonyoung was calling this often, it was definitely about Jisoo. Dokyeom hesitated for a long moment, clearly torn between duty and worry.

But in the end, he had no choice. He shot Jeonghan one last scowl, filled with warning, before reluctantly walking off to take the call.

Jeonghan was finally left alone with Joshua. Not knowing this was Jisoo, and not the Joshua he hated.

And so he hated every second of it.

The doctors came out a few minutes later with their usual calm expressions. One of them spoke up, “Other than the memory issue, Joshua is recovering well. His vitals are stable, and there’s no sign of any internal complications. But—” the doctor paused, adjusting his glasses, “since he just woke up and had severe damage in his brain, his body is extremely weak. He’s exhausted and will need a lot of rest, along with assistance in his daily routine for the time being.”

Jeonghan clenched his jaw, holding back the strong urge to roll his eyes. Assistance? Daily routine? None of it sounded remotely appealing. He wasn’t even remotely interested in babysitting Joshua—especially not after everything. But of course, he had to. That was the worst part. It didn’t matter how much he disliked it; his father had made it very clear—take care of Joshua.

After the doctors left, Jeonghan stepped into the room with reluctant steps. The air inside felt too quiet, too sterile. Jisoo sat on the bed, back resting against the pillow, his gaze unfocused as he stared out the window like he was searching for something that no longer existed.

Jisoo turned his head slowly, sensing the presence. Their eyes met.

Jeonghan froze for a brief second.

Joshua looked... different.

He was thinner, paler, and there was no trace of that usual icy glare he used to wear like armor. Instead, his big, doe eyes blinked up at Jeonghan with something soft—something almost vulnerable. There was no sharpness, no challenge in his gaze. Only quiet curiosity. Maybe even confusion. It was unnerving.

And for a moment—just a moment—Jeonghan forgot how much he hated him.

But the feeling didn’t last.

He snapped out of it, mentally shaking the thoughts away. No. This had to be a trick. A performance. That’s what Joshua was good at, wasn’t he? Pretending. Manipulating. Playing people like pawns. He wasn’t going to fall for it. Not again.

He took a deep breath, plastering a neutral look on his face, and stepped further into the room. If Joshua wanted to act like an innocent lamb, fine. But Jeonghan wasn’t about to forget the wolf that lived underneath.

“Hi.” Jisoo’s voice was soft, almost too soft, as if even speaking hurt. He gave a small, hesitant smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do we… know each other?” he asked, voice trembling just slightly, like he was afraid of whatever answer might come.

Jeonghan stood frozen for a second, eyes locked on the boy in the hospital bed. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. He hated this. Every part of it. The sterile smell of the hospital room, the slow beeping of the monitors, the weak way Joshua looked at him—none of it felt real.

He hated how small Joshua looked now. Frail. Pale. Completely unlike the sharp, confident boy Jeonghan was used to.

But most of all, he hated how a part of him felt something close to pity. Because he didn’t want to pity Joshua. He wanted to hate him. He needed to hate him.

“Are you done acting?” Jeonghan snapped before he could stop himself. His voice was sharp, slicing through the quiet like a blade. He saw Joshua flinch—just barely—but it was there.

“Joshua,” he continued coldly, forcing his tone to stay steady. “You don’t need to pretend in front of me. Whatever mask you wear, I can still see through it. Always have.”

A lie. A desperate one. The truth was—Jeonghan never understood Joshua. Joshua had always been unreadable to him. A mystery wrapped in soft smiles and sharp eyes. A threat to everything Jeonghan thought was his.

Jisoo looked down, the blanket clenched tightly in his fingers. He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, eyes low, lips parted slightly like he was struggling to find the words.

“I’m sorry…” The words were barely audible. But they echoed loud in Jeonghan’s ears.

His eyes widened. Joshua was apologizing?

“I’m sorry for not remembering anything,” Jisoo said again, more clearly this time. His voice cracked a little. “It must be frustrating… to take care of someone like me. Someone who doesn’t even remember his own name.”

Jeonghan’s chest tightened.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t him.

Joshua never apologized. Never looked down. Never sounded so broken. The boy in front of him wasn’t the Joshua he knew.

For a split second, Jeonghan questioned everything. Was he really pretending? Was this really just another one of Joshua’s manipulations?

But then he looked at him closely—the tired eyes, the slight trembling in his hands, the subtle panic hiding behind that fragile smile. It didn’t feel like a lie.

And that’s what scared Jeonghan the most.

Because if Joshua had truly lost his memories, then he was no longer the rival Jeonghan had spent years building walls against. He was someone new. Someone… vulnerable.

But before he could stop himself, another thought crept into his head. One he shouldn’t entertain. One that made something dark and calculating stir inside him.

If Joshua really didn’t remember anything… then he was like a blank page now. And Jeonghan could write whatever story he wanted.

No one else knew Joshua like Jeonghan did. Not the real him.

So if this was a game… Jeonghan could finally win.

He could make Joshua into whoever he wanted him to be.

This time, Jeonghan would be the one in control.

Jeonghan slowly regained his composure, smoothing the expression on his face like slipping on a mask. He stepped forward and quietly sat down beside Joshua’s hospital bed. The younger boy was still watching him with wide, unsure eyes, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

Then, gently—almost too gently—Jeonghan reached out and took Joshua’s hands in his own.

Joshua flinched.

The touch was soft, but unexpected. Especially from someone who had just spoken so harshly to him. His body tensed automatically, uncertain whether to pull away or not.

Jeonghan gave him a small, practiced smile. “Joshua,” he said softly, his voice layered with a warmth he didn’t truly feel, “I’m sorry… if I scared you earlier.”

He paused, watching the flicker of confusion in Joshua’s eyes before continuing, slowly planting the seeds of his lie.

“It’s just…” Jeonghan sighed and looked away, like the memory was too painful to face. “It’s been a little frustrating. Seeing you like this. Weak. Lost. Not remembering anything.” He took a shaky breath for effect, then stood up and walked over to the window, letting the light hit just the right side of his face. “How could you just forget everything… about us?”

He added a touch of drama to his posture—shoulders low, gaze distant—as if he were barely holding back tears. Inside, though, he was anything but sad. He was smirking, amused by the sight of Joshua’s face tightening in confusion and panic.

Jisoo stared at him, lips parting slowly. “Us…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, struggling to grasp what Jeonghan meant.

Jeonghan turned back toward him, his face etched with fake disbelief. “How can you pretend to forget… after everything? After you confessed to me?” His voice cracked in just the right spot. “You said you loved me, Joshua.”

He let the words hang in the air, heavy and cold.

Joshua blinked rapidly. His breath caught in his throat. “I… I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, visibly shaken. “I swear, I’m not pretending—I really don’t remember anything. Not even that.”

His voice cracked, overwhelmed with guilt. He looked utterly helpless, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I’m sorry—” he choked out, his hands gripping the blanket like a lifeline.

Jeonghan walked back to him slowly, keeping his expression carefully soft. He reached out again, brushing a hand over Joshua’s knuckles. “It’s okay,” he said, voice full of manufactured gentleness. “I believe you. I know you’re not lying. It’s just…” He let out a sigh, lowering his gaze like he was holding back pain. “I miss the old you. You who loved me so much.”

And just like that, he watched the guilt settle even deeper in Jisoo’s eyes.

This was too easy. Almost disappointingly easy.

Inside, Jeonghan was already steps ahead. If Joshua had truly forgotten everything… then this would be the beginning of a very different story. One he could control. One where, for once, he would have the upper hand.

All he had to do was keep Joshua close. Keep him believing.

And soon, the real game would begin.

“Did I… love you a lot?” Joshua asked timidly, his voice barely rising above a whisper. His gaze dropped for a moment before looking back up at Jeonghan with wide, uncertain eyes, searching for any hint of truth.

Jeonghan didn’t miss a beat. He gave the boy a soft, melancholic smile and nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said, his tone warm and convincing, “you did. Almost like you couldn’t live without me.”

Joshua’s expression twisted with emotion—confusion, sadness, and something faintly resembling guilt. “Maybe…” he murmured, “maybe I can try that again. Don’t get hurt. If I loved you that much before, I’m sure I can do that again.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost too pure. Too easy.

Jeonghan bit back a smirk, hiding it under a sweet, grateful smile. “Will you, Shuji?” he said softly, using the nickname deliberately.

Joshua blinked at the name, and a light pink flush crept up his cheeks. His hands clenched slightly on the blanket. “Shuji…” he repeated under his breath, unfamiliar but strangely intimate.

He didn’t know the truth. That name—Shuji—was something Joshua hated. Something that used to irritate him to no end whenever Jeonghan said it just to get a rise out of him.

But now… he didn’t remember any of that.

“I’ll try,” Joshua said quietly. “For you.”

Jeonghan didn’t wait. He moved quickly, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Joshua in a tight, dramatic hug. “Thank you,” he whispered into Joshua’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Shuji.”

Joshua hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around him, returning the embrace with the kind of innocent trust that made Jeonghan’s stomach twist with amusement.

Behind Joshua’s back, Jeonghan’s expression twisted into a victorious smirk. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

He had done it.

He had fooled Joshua.

He had taken advantage of the boy’s blank slate and painted his own story onto it. Now all that was left was to make Joshua truly fall for him—believe in the love that never existed—only so Jeonghan could destroy it all.

Ruthlessly.

Mercilessly.

And when the moment came, when Joshua trusted him the most… Jeonghan would shatter him. Just like he had always wanted.

Because in the game of revenge, love was the sharpest weapon.

“So,” Joshua’s voice trembled with restrained rage, “you’re telling me that Jisoo was bullied—by that Soeun bitch? And she ruined his dreams of being an artist?”

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to stop the waves of fury rising in his chest. His jaw clenched, fists curling on his thighs. “Fuck that bitch, I am so going to kill that fake bitch.”

Dokyeom stood frozen across from him, his eyes darting around the café nervously. Joshua was getting angrier with every word, and Dokyeom could feel the storm brewing.

“And Choi Seungcheol,” Joshua continued, voice louder now, sharper, “that guy… he did nothing? Just abandoned him when he needed someone the most?”

“Hyung, please—calm down,” Dokyeom rushed to say, reaching forward anxiously. “Breathe. Don’t—don’t make a scene here, people are looking—”

Joshua turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto Dokyeom with an icy glare that made the younger flinch. He didn’t speak for a moment. His anger was thick in the air, his presence almost suffocating.

“Choi Seungcheol is the real trash here,” he muttered bitterly, voice low and venom-laced. His nails dug into his palms as he stared blankly at the floor, jaw tight with a thousand unsaid thoughts. 

“Right? His family is super rich,” Dokyeom said, mouth half-full. “I mean, he could’ve easily helped Jisoo-hyung if he wanted to. I didn’t even know his father was the chairman of Sebong Hospital until recently.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow at that. “Wait. Seungcheol’s father runs Sebong?”

“Yeah,” Dokyeom nodded enthusiastically, like he was delivering gossip instead of facts. “Big-time chairman. The whole place pretty much bows to him. He owns half the board.”

“Then what’s he even doing here, staying at a hospital like this?” Joshua scoffed, his voice laced with suspicion. “I bet he’s just here to make Jisoo suffer even more.”

The words tasted bitter in his mouth. Because he had started to trust Seungcheol. To like him, even.

He had believed Seungcheol was kind, gentle—genuine. He had felt safe with him. Had let himself ease into his presence, feeling comforted by his calm warmth. He thought Seungcheol had cared for Jisoo deeply.

But now?

Now he was just another coward. Another betrayer in Jisoo’s life who looked away when things got hard. Who gave up when Jisoo needed someone to stay.

Joshua’s heart twisted painfully. His anger wasn’t just anger anymore. It was betrayal. Disappointment. Grief—for a brother he didn’t even know, but who he was starting to understand more than anyone ever could.

“How could he do that?” Joshua whispered, more to himself than Dokyeom. “How could he love Jisoo and still hurt him like that?”

Dokyeom didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t have an answer.

Joshua turned his head to the window, eyes burning. No matter how much kindness Seungcheol had shown him recently, it didn’t erase what he had done to Jisoo.

And Joshua wouldn’t forgive that.

He wouldn’t forgive anyone who made his brother feel alone in a world that was already too cruel.

Joshua shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the spiraling anger. Letting rage take over wouldn’t help Jisoo. He needed to stay calm, think clearly.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples before fixing his gaze on Dokyeom.

“Why did you even come here yourself?” Joshua asked, voice still tense but more controlled. “You shouldn't have left Jisoo alone. Not right now.”

Dokyeom, completely unfazed, took a dramatic bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly like he was in no rush to answer. He waved a dismissive hand toward Joshua, his mouth still full.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” he mumbled through his food, “he’s not alone. Jeonghan-hyung is with him—”

He froze.

His eyes went wide. His sandwich dropped to the table. He blinked once. Then twice.

Joshua was already up, chair screeching loudly behind him as he stood. His eyes narrowed, a deadly calm washing over his face.

“Lee Dokyeom,” he said in a voice that sent chills down Dokyeom’s spine, “what did you just say? Who is with Jisoo?!”

Dokyeom stood there like a deer caught in headlights, not even bothering to finish his bite. “I—it was an emergency—Soonyoung was calling—and Jeonghan insisted—”

But Joshua was already storming toward him.

“Oh, no no no no—” Dokyeom turned and bolted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he took off out of the café. People turned to stare, startled by the sudden chaos.

“I specifically told you to keep Jeonghan away from Jisoo!!” Joshua yelled, voice echoing through the street as he ran after him. “I gave you ONE job! One!”

“I’M SORRY, HYUNG!” Dokyeom cried as he dashed down the sidewalk, arms flailing. “IT WAS OUT OF MY CONTROL!”

“LEE DOKYEOM, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKER!”

The scene was chaotic—customers inside pressed against the glass to watch, baristas frozen mid-pour, a toddler in a stroller clapping at the unexpected entertainment.

“HYUNG, CALM DOWN HEYO JEBAL!” Dokyeom shrieked, glancing over his shoulder to see Joshua gaining on him. “I VALUE MY LIFE!”

Joshua wasn’t even thinking anymore. All he could see was Jeonghan—manipulative, cunning Jeonghan—alone with his brother, spinning lies, twisting truths, and taking advantage of Jisoo's fragile state. Just the thought made his blood boil.

If Jeonghan laid even a finger on Jisoo in the wrong way, Joshua swore he’d burn the whole damn hospital down.

Dokyeom? He was going to pay too. Right after he caught him.

Seungcheol sighed as he sank into his chair, the leather cold against his back. He had just returned to his chamber after performing two long surgeries. His hands were sore, his legs heavy, and his eyelids begged to close—but his mind had other plans.

Despite the fatigue, his thoughts wandered back to one person.

Jisoo.

Something was wrong. Off. Different.

Jisoo had been acting strange, too strange, for the past few days. Seungcheol couldn’t ignore it anymore. He wasn’t stupid.

When the accident happened, Seungcheol had been the first to rush to the hospital. The doctors said Jisoo’s condition was serious, so serious they had to transfer him to Sebong Hospital right away. Alarmed, Seungcheol pulled every string he had, called in every favor, even used his father’s influence to check the Sebong records himself.

But there was no Jisoo.

Not a single male patient under that name had been admitted. It didn’t sit right with him.

None of it.

He even managed to get a glimpse of Jisoo’s medical report. Brain damage, it said. A serious case, possibly life-threatening. But when he looked at Jisoo now, it didn’t add up. He was walking, talking, too fine for someone with such a diagnosis. Yes, the memory loss was real, Seungcheol could tell that much. But was it only amnesia?

None of it made sense.

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, fingers loosely laced. His brows furrowed as he stared blankly at the floor.

Was Jisoo lying? Was he hiding something from him?

But why would he?

They had always been close—at least, Seungcheol thought so. Even if things had gone wrong between them before, he never expected Jisoo to shut him out completely like this. The Jisoo he knew wasn't like this.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because this person—this version of Jisoo—felt like a stranger in a familiar form.

Seungcheol closed his eyes, trying to push away the thoughts. But they refused to leave. They clawed their way back every time.

Something wasn’t right.

And the more he saw Jisoo, the more he felt it deep in his bones.

This wasn’t just memory loss. This was something else entirely.

Seungcheol stared at his phone screen, thumb hovering uncertainly over Jisoo’s contact. His name glowed softly under the dim light of his office, almost taunting. He hadn’t called, not since the café incident. Not since Soeun’s ridiculous outburst.

The silence between them had grown too loud. Things had gotten awkward, unbearably so. But even so, Seungcheol couldn’t help the way his chest tightened every time Jisoo crossed his mind. He was worried, worried if Jisoo was eating properly, if he was managing to sleep at night, if he had someone guiding him through the fog of his memory loss.

Jisoo had amnesia. That much was clear. And even though Seungcheol wanted to be there, to help, to protect, he hadn’t even found the time to call. Ten surgeries in the last two days. His schedule was relentless.

He sighed, about to lock his phone and give up, when—

BANG!

“Hyung!! Are you free?”

The door swung open, and one of his juniors, Lee Chan barged in like a storm.

Seungcheol jumped, his thumb accidentally pressing down—

Dialing Jisoo…

“Shit—” he hissed, quickly ending the call, but the screen confirmed it: a missed call had gone through.

Just great.

He turned toward Chan with a fiery glare. “Can’t you knock, you idiot?!”

“I did knock!!” Chan shouted back instinctively.

“You did?” Seungcheol asked, slightly thrown off.

Chan grinned sheepishly. “Okay, I didn’t. Since when do we knock, though?”

“You little shit,” Seungcheol muttered, running a hand down his face, already regretting this interaction. “What do you want?”

“You’re free tonight, right?” Chan asked, grinning with too much enthusiasm. “Let’s go out for a drink.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to say no. He always said no. Drinking with Chan was never just drinking. The guy didn’t know the meaning of limits. The last time ended with them getting kicked out of a bar and Seungcheol babysitting a passed-out Chan in the backseat of his own car.

But, tonight, maybe he needed it.

Maybe he needed something, anything, to take his mind off the person he just accidentally called.

“…Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll leave in a bit.”

Chan blinked in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

Seungcheol gave a tired nod.

With a pleased thumbs up and a bright smile, Chan disappeared from the room.

Seungcheol looked down at his phone again.

One dialed call. To Jisoo.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, already feeling the weight of regret settle in his chest.

Joshua was pacing around his room, still muttering curses under his breath aimed at Dokyeom. He had already sent the younger one back to Seoul, but he couldn’t stop worrying. The thought of Jisoo being left alone with Jeonghan made his stomach twist. He couldn’t focus on anything—he hadn’t even been able to eat properly all day.

He sat on the edge of the bed, tapping his foot anxiously, waiting for Dokyeom to call him with an update. Every scenario that crossed his mind felt worse than the last.

What if Jeonghan had already done something terrible? What if he hurt Jisoo? Or kidnapped him? Or—God forbid—sold him off somewhere? Joshua’s head was spinning with worst-case scenarios. His chest felt tight just thinking about it.

In the middle of his panic spiral, he suddenly realized something—his phone wasn’t with him.

His eyes widened. “Shit,” he mumbled, and immediately started tearing through his belongings like a madman. “What if Dokyeom had already called?!”

After tossing aside a hoodie, a book, and his charger, he finally found his phone buried at the bottom of his bag. It was on silent.

“Seriously?” he groaned, unlocking it quickly. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the notification: one missed call.

His breath caught for a second—but then he relaxed. It wasn’t from Dokyeom.

But just as quickly, panic returned.

It was from Seungcheol.

Joshua frowned, staring at the name on the screen. Why the hell is he calling me now?

He let out a small, frustrated sigh. His ego flared up. He was still angry at Seungcheol. After everything that came out about Jisoo’s past—how could Seungcheol even try to talk to him like nothing happened?

Still… a tiny part of him was curious. Why now? Seungcheol hadn’t called or texted for two whole days. The silence had felt deafening. Joshua huffed, shoving the thought away. He wasn’t going to be weak.

He almost pressed “Call Back” before his pride kicked in. No. Let him wait.

Just then, his phone lit up again.

Seungcheol.

Joshua hesitated, watching it ring. His heart thudded a little louder. He waited. One second. Two seconds. Three.

He didn’t want to look desperate, didn’t want to sound too eager. So he counted to five in his head.

Then he slowly pressed the green button and raised the phone to his ear.

“…Hello?”

“…Is that you, Jisoo?” Seungcheol’s soft, slightly slurred voice came through the phone.

Joshua sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s me, Jisoo.”

There was a pause. Then Seungcheol chuckled, the sound warm and strangely boyish. “I really missed you a lot, Soo-yah.”

Joshua’s heart twitched at the nickname, but his mouth moved on its own. “Is that why you waited two whole days to call?” His words were sharp without meaning to be. He almost forgot he was mad at Seungcheol—almost. The older’s silly sweetness nearly made him let his guard down.

“I’m sorry, Soo. Don’t be mad at me, hmm?” Seungcheol’s voice dipped into a pouty tone that made Joshua imagine him with that puppy-dog expression he always used when trying to win someone over.

Joshua rolled his eyes, even though he knew Seungcheol couldn’t see it. “Why would I be mad at you?” he muttered with a sarcastic lilt.

“I can tell you’re mad.” Seungcheol whined now, dragging out his words a little too cutely. His speech was off—mushy, slow, and soft.

Joshua narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Choi Seungcheol… are you drunk?”

There was a beat of silence before a tiny giggle slipped through the receiver. “...A little…?”

Joshua groaned and rubbed at his forehead in frustration. “Unbelievable.”

“Where are you right now?” he asked with a stern tone, already anticipating the worst.

“…In front of your house?”

“What?!” Joshua nearly dropped his phone. His eyes widened, and he stood up so fast that the chair behind him screeched across the floor.

Why the hell was Seungcheol here—drunk—outside his place? In the middle of the night?

Joshua looked toward the door in a panic. As annoyed as he was, he couldn’t just leave the idiot standing out there in the cold.

“Wait right there. Don’t move,” he said quickly before grabbing his jacket and storming out of the house to go fetch Seungcheol.

Joshua stepped out into the chilly night air, scanning the dimly lit street until his eyes landed on Seungcheol. The older man was leaning against the wall near the gate, head tilted back, eyes half-lidded. He looked exhausted and undeniably drunk. His coat hung crookedly off one shoulder, his tie was loose, and his breathing was uneven.

Joshua sighed under his breath, already feeling a mix of irritation and worry. He quickened his pace.

The second Seungcheol spotted him, a slow, sloppy smile spread across his face. “Soo-yah…” he called out softly, like he had been waiting for him for hours.

Joshua barely had time to react before Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall and staggered toward him with outstretched arms. “Yah!” Joshua exclaimed as Seungcheol threw himself onto him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders tightly.

Joshua grunted slightly under the sudden weight, stumbling back a step. “What the hell—” he muttered but instinctively held him, steadying the older man.

Seungcheol clung to him like a child, head resting on Joshua’s shoulder. “Mmm… you smell different,” he mumbled, voice muffled, “I like it.”

Joshua felt his heart ache for a second before shaking it off. “Why did you drink so much? Are you crazy?” he scolded, trying to gently pull Seungcheol away to get a better look at him.

Seungcheol lifted his head, a lazy grin still on his lips. “Had a drink… or five… with Chan. He said I needed to loosen up.” He blinked slowly. “But I just ended up missing you more.”

Joshua sighed again, annoyed but also… soft. “You really are a mess, Seungcheol.”

“You’re so pretty, Soo-yah,” Seungcheol said suddenly, his tone low and fond.

Joshua froze. His stomach twisted slightly.

Is he seeing me, or is he seeing Jisoo?

Still, the way Seungcheol looked at him—it wasn’t cold, or casual. His eyes were warm, like Joshua was the only thing grounding him right now.

Seungcheol reached up and cupped Joshua’s cheeks with both hands. His palms were warm, a little shaky. His thumbs brushed gently against his skin. “I missed this face,” he whispered. “Missed you.”

Joshua’s breath caught. He couldn’t speak. His heart thudded so loudly in his ears it drowned out everything else.

Seungcheol leaned in slowly, drawn toward him like a magnet. Their faces were only inches apart now. Joshua could feel the older’s breath, heavy with alcohol and warmth.

But just before their lips met, Joshua pressed his hands firmly against Seungcheol’s chest.

“No,” he said quietly.

Seungcheol blinked in confusion, gaze still locked on his lips. “Why not…?” he asked, almost pleading. “Don’t you want me too, Soo-yah?”

Joshua's chest tightened. For a second, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to lean in, close the distance, and forget everything. But he couldn’t. Not like this. Not when he wasn’t even sure who Seungcheol was talking to—him, or Jisoo.

“This isn’t right,” Joshua said, shaking his head. “You’re drunk. And you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, clearly not understanding. “But… I know how I feel.”

Joshua shook his head, but even that small gesture felt uncertain. The lines were blurring too much now. He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore.

This wasn’t his life. This wasn’t his story.

He was living Jisoo’s life. Wearing Jisoo’s name. Speaking Jisoo’s words. Sleeping in Jisoo’s bed. And now… standing in front of a man who was probably in love with Jisoo.

It should be Jisoo, Joshua thought bitterly. It’s always been Jisoo.

Seungcheol was supposed to love Jisoo. Jisoo loved Seungcheol. Everyone around them knew that. It was a bond that had been there long before Joshua even stepped into the picture.

So then—what was he doing?

Standing here. In Jisoo’s place. In Seungcheol’s arms.

The realization hit him like a wave of guilt, I’m the outsider here. I’m the one stealing something that was never mine.

He felt like a home wrecker. Like an intruder in his own brother’s life.

Joshua bit his lip, trying to fight off the ache growing in his chest. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew he shouldn’t. Seungcheol was drunk—confused. He didn’t even know the truth. He didn’t know that the man he was clinging to right now wasn’t really his Jisoo.

But the problem was—Joshua couldn’t make his heart understand that.

Because even as his mind screamed stop, his body was already leaning in closer. Already longing for the warmth, the affection, the attention that had never been meant for him.

Just for one night… could he be selfish?

Could he pretend Seungcheol’s touch was his to receive?

Would it be so wrong to keep him just for tonight?

Joshua’s eyes burned, and he blinked away the sting of tears as Seungcheol raised a hand and gently cupped his face again. His thumb brushed over Joshua’s cheek with a kind of reverence that shattered him.

That gaze. Those soft, sleepy eyes filled with warmth and affection. It was everything Joshua had always wanted someone to give him.

But it wasn’t meant for him.

It was meant for Jisoo.

That fact made Joshua’s throat tighten. But… if he said nothing—if he just stayed quiet—Seungcheol didn’t have to know.

One more lie wouldn’t hurt.

He was already living Jisoo’s life. What was one more night of pretending?

So Joshua closed his eyes.

And gave in.

Joshua closed the distance between them, pressing his lips gently against Seungcheol’s.

It was soft, hesitant at first. Like a question left unspoken. But Seungcheol responded almost instantly, leaning into the kiss as if he'd been waiting for it all along. His arms wrapped around Joshua’s waist, holding him close, grounding him in a moment that felt both surreal and painfully real.

Joshua’s heart pounded in his chest. The warmth of Seungcheol’s lips, the weight of his hands, the low sigh he let out — it all felt like a dream he wasn’t allowed to have. But here he was, living it.

He deepened the kiss slightly, just enough to feel more of him — the realness, the longing, the ache they both carried but never spoke of. For that brief moment, he let himself forget. He forgot the lies. Forgot the guilt. Forgot that this love wasn’t meant for him.

Seungcheol pulled away just a little, resting his forehead against Joshua’s, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Seungcheol murmured, his voice barely audible, thick with emotion and alcohol. “I missed you so much, Soo-yah…”

Joshua closed his eyes tightly, as if that might keep the tears at bay.

He doesn’t know. He’s not kissing me. He’s kissing Jisoo.

But he didn’t pull away.

Not yet.

“Then don’t leave,” Joshua whispered, voice trembling. “Just stay tonight. Please.”

Seungcheol nodded, brushing his lips over Joshua’s one more time — softer now, like a promise. Or maybe a lie.

And Joshua let him stay.

Even if it broke him a little more inside. 

They didn’t know when the shift happened.

One moment, they were standing outside Jisoo’s house, lost in a gentle kiss — the kind that spoke of longing and buried feelings. The next, they were inside, the door barely shut behind them, and Seungcheol was on the couch with Joshua straddling his lap.

The air between them had changed.

The kiss deepened — no longer soft or searching. It was desperate, messy, and charged with something neither of them could quite name. Hands roamed freely now, tugging at clothing, clutching at each other as if afraid to let go.

Seungcheol’s fingers slid under the hem of Joshua’s sweater, cold against warm skin. Joshua gasped softly at the touch, his breath catching in his throat. In that moment of vulnerability, Seungcheol leaned in again, and took this opportunity to shove his tongue inside the younger's hot cavern, their kiss growing more heated, more consuming.

Joshua clung to Seungcheol’s shoulders, trying to ground himself, but his mind was spiraling — not just from the kiss, or the way Seungcheol held him, but from the weight of what he was doing.

Their breaths were uneven, their bodies pressed too close, but still, it wasn’t enough. They were chasing something — comfort, escape, or maybe just the illusion of love.

And for that night, Joshua let himself believe it was real. He let himself believe he was Jisoo that night.

When Seungcheol held him with trembling hands, when he whispered sweet nothings against his skin, Joshua closed his eyes and surrendered to the lie. He let himself believe that this was meant for him — that the love in Seungcheol’s eyes was truly his to receive.

And when Seungcheol gently undressed him, touching him with a reverence that made Joshua ache, he held onto that illusion even tighter. He let himself forget the truth. Forget who he really was. Just for the night.

When Seungcheol made love to him — slow, deep, and heartbreakingly tender — Joshua gave away every piece of himself. Not just his body, but every guarded emotion, every fragile hope he thought he’d buried.

Because in that moment, wrapped up in Seungcheol’s arms, he wasn’t Joshua pretending to be Jisoo.

He was Jisoo.

At least, that’s what he told himself — as Seungcheol unknowingly took the last thing that was his alone.