Unhealthy older brother’s friend

“Crazy guy?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean you, CEO.”

Seo-hye waved her hand, her neck turning red.

CEO.

Jae-gyeom rolled the title on his tongue. It felt strange. His eyes narrowed as he caught glimpses of the messages flashing on Seo-hye’s phone screen.

“It’s true. I was just talking to myself…”

Jae-gyeom chuckled lightly and stared at Seo-hye, who was looking frustrated. His gaze slowly dropped to her reddening neck.

“Still the same.”

He muttered, as if finding it cute that her neck always turned red when she was embarrassed. Seo-hye turned her gaze to the window, making the redness of her neck even more noticeable.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. His gaze traced downward from her flushed neck, and his jaw clenched.

The beige cardigan hugging her frame, the pencil skirt pulled tight on both sides, her long wavy hair cascading down to her chest, and her soft makeup.

The high school girl in a uniform had become a mature woman. The time between them suddenly felt too long, and he let out a quiet breath.

For feeling something inappropriate toward his old friend’s little sister—he felt like trash.

Damn.

He swallowed the curse and focused on the road.

⸻

Jae-gyeom had said they were going for dinner, but the place he took her to was a hotel bar not far from his office.

Seo-hye stepped into the high-rise lounge and felt the open space clear her mind. Through the transparent glass windows, the Seoul city lights stretched endlessly below her.

“You said dinner…”
“I just feel like drinking instead.”

Jae-gyeom casually dismissed it as a whim, pushing open the glass door to the terrace. The spring night breeze ruffled Seo-hye’s hair slightly.

The cold winds of early spring had felt so recent, yet now, the warm season had fully settled in. Seo-hye stood by the railing, gazing at the neon-lit city below.

“It’s beautiful.”

Her half-lidded eyes twinkled as she turned to him, smiling.

The sight of her defenseless smile made Jae-gyeom’s mouth feel dry. He sipped cold water to quench his sudden thirst.

He watched her with curious eyes. At her age, she had surely visited places like this before. Yet she still seemed just as sentimental as always.

“What do you want to drink?”

He asked as he flipped through the menu. Seo-hye, now standing beside him, glanced at the options with an awkward smile.

“I’ve never been to a place like this before. CEO, you should order for me.”

She subtly pushed the menu toward him.

“Something sweet.”

At her added request, Jae-gyeom ordered whiskey for himself and a mild cocktail for her. Soon, the drinks arrived along with finger food.

The cocktail had a soft lemon hue, making Seo-hye exclaim in admiration.

Jae-gyeom picked up an ice cube and dropped it into his glass before pouring in whiskey.

Seo-hye held up her glass expectantly. Catching on, he lightly clinked his glass against hers.

A crisp, clear sound rang out as they took their first sips.

Seo-hye’s eyes curved into a smile.

“It tastes like juice.”
“Even if it’s not strong, it’s still alcohol.”

His quiet warning made her nod. She took another sip, but her expression darkened.

She recalled a memory.

⸻

Two years into dating Ahn Hee-seok, they had walked past a fancy bar.

“Wow, that place looks nice.”

She had stared longingly at it.

“Let’s come here for a date next time.”

“It looks expensive. Don’t push yourself.”

“You’ve helped me with my work so much. Of course, I can take you somewhere like this.”

But not long after, he went there—with Ha Ji-yoon.

Seo-hye had found out through Ji-yoon’s Instagram: a picture of two cocktails and hands wearing matching rings.

She hadn’t recognized Hee-seok’s hand at first. Looking back, Ji-yoon’s Instagram had always been discreet. Her “boyfriend” was never in the pictures—only hints, like couple rings, matching shirts, and travel photos with just his back visible.

Whenever Seo-hye had asked Ji-yoon to show her boyfriend’s face, she had always replied vaguely:

“You already know who he is.”

Seo-hye had been so curious.

She had even brought it up to Hee-seok.

“I really want to know who Ji-yoon’s boyfriend is.”

Each time, Hee-seok had brushed it off:

“Why are you so interested in someone else’s boyfriend?”

She had thought he was just jealous.

How they must have laughed behind her back.

How ridiculous she must have seemed, clueless while they openly flaunted their affair in front of her.

“I’ve been dating Hee-seok for a year. You must have noticed, right?”

Ji-yoon had finally confronted her. She had apparently been dropping hints, waiting for Seo-hye to figure it out. But when Seo-hye remained oblivious, Ji-yoon had run out of patience and come to tell her directly.

At work, no less.

⸻

“If you want to cry, go ahead.”

”…”

“I don’t have a handkerchief, though.”

Seo-hye let out a small laugh at his awkward attempt at humor. She played with the rim of her glass.

”…Did you see everything earlier?”

“More or less.”

Hearing him confirm it made her want to disappear.

She had suspected he had seen it all, but hearing it aloud made it feel ten times worse.

“I told you not to hang around with people like that.”

Oppa.

He called himself that so naturally.

With his status, she had never dared to call him “oppa.” The word always got stuck in her throat. But he said it so effortlessly, as if closing the distance between them in an instant.

Back to being her older brother’s friend.

Jae-gyeom refilled his whiskey glass, his sharp gaze feeling almost like a reprimand.

“I warned you.”

She recalled his words from years ago.

“I’m saying this because you’re Min-wook’s sister. Stay away from people like her.”

She had ignored his warning. If she had listened, would she have avoided getting hurt like this?

At the time, she had thought he was just uncomfortable because Ji-yoon had once confessed to him and gotten rejected.

But had he already known?

Had he seen through Ji-yoon’s deception all along?

⸻

“Can I order another cocktail?”

She looked up at him, her large eyes shimmering with a pleading look.

It was hard to refuse.

“Just one more.”

He ordered another. But that was just the start.

She drained the second glass in one go. Then asked for another.

He couldn’t bring himself to say no when she looked at him with tearful, desperate eyes.

One drink turned into two, then three. By the fifth, her words started slurring.

When she giggled, completely loosened up, Jae-gyeom sighed.

Damn those cat-like eyes.

“Eun Seo-hye.”

His voice, carried by the breeze, was laced with frustration.

“Oppa.”

She slurred, eyes half-lidded. He poured himself more whiskey and looked up.

She smiled at him lazily.

“I don’t want to go home.”

Then, she collapsed onto the table.

Jae-gyeom exhaled sharply and gazed at her flushed face.