THE Runway

Chapter 4: Reckless Impulse

“Hey, are you out of your mind? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?"

In the end, she gave in and answered. Seongmin had been relentless, calling over and over.

Jian knew his stubbornness better than anyone, so with a sigh, she stepped out of the private dining room and picked up.

“Jian.”

His voice, soaked in alcohol, came through the line, followed by a heavy sigh. Jian sank onto a sofa in a quiet corner of the restaurant, pressing her fingers against her temple.

“Jian… where are you? Can I come see you?”

“Are you drunk-dialing me again?”

“Drunk-dialing? Come on, Jian. Since when did you start talking like this? You never used to.”

She exhaled sharply.

“Seongmin. Even when I found out you were cheating on me, I never once cursed at you.”

She had even apologized. As if she were to blame. As if she had driven him to stray.

“But you know what? Right now, I think I could make up for all the times I didn’t. I could curse you out in ways you’ve never even imagined. So instead of me, call your lover, you know, the woman you—”

She stopped herself just before saying “the woman you cheated on me with.”

Hadn’t Michelle Obama said it best?

When they go low, we go high.

“Enough of this. You should be calling and texting her.”

She refused to be the woman clinging to a worthless bastard, demanding explanations. She wouldn’t beg for scraps of the past or ask if their five years together had meant nothing to him.

She would maintain her dignity. That was the last thing she could hold on to in front of a man like him.

“Jian, let’s meet. Let’s talk, face to face.”

“I’m hanging up. Don’t call me again.”

“Jian… I miss you. I swear, I’m losing my mind without you—!”

“Hey! You son of a—!”

Her last thread of restraint was about to snap when—

“…!”

A strong, unfamiliar hand suddenly snatched the phone from her grasp.

“Mr. Seongmin Lee.”

Standing before her was none other than Hyunmin.

“What kind of pathetic excuse for a man are you? Absolutely pathetic.”

With wide eyes, Jian gazed up at Hyunmin.

He was leaning slightly against the wall, looking down at her with that unreadable gaze. Every nerve in her body locked up, rendering her completely still.

“Who the hell are you? Where are you?” Seongmin’s voice crackled through the receiver.

“Why? You coming? We’re at L Hotel.”

“L Hotel? What the hell are you two doing at a hotel?!”

Hyunmin smirked. “What do you think a man and a woman do at a hotel?”

“Who the hell are you?!”

“I’m her fiancé.”

“What?! Fiancé?!”

“So next time you call, make sure you're ready to put your life on the line.”

“You—! You bastard—!”

Click.

Hyunmin ended the call.

“Why are you even bothering with trash like that? A sloppy drunk, no less.”

He handed the phone back to her with an unimpressed look.

Jian just stared, completely thrown off.

“Don’t you want your phone back?”

“What…?”

Seeing Jian staring up at him in a daze, her lips slightly parted, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Unreal. Do I have to hand you everything myself every damn time?”

And just like that, he shoved the phone into her palm and walked off without another word.

* * *

“Haa…”

Jian exhaled a heavy sigh, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel.

She had just parked in the apartment garage, but her mind was spinning.

What kind of pathetic excuse for a man are you? Absolutely pathetic.

I’m her fiancé.

So next time you call, make sure you’re ready to put your life on the line.

Why are you even bothering with trash like that? A sloppy drunk, no less.

Unreal. Do I have to put things in your hands every damn time?

His voice kept replaying in her head, looping over and over. She clenched the wheel tighter.

And then, another memory surfaced.

The night she hadn’t been able to forget for a single day since.

In Paris.

“I wanted to buy you a drink. Why did you cover the whole bill?”

By the time she caught on, it was too late. As she stepped toward him, he was already crumpling the receipt. Her brows knitted in guilt.

“Which hotel are you staying at?” he suddenly turned to ask Jian, who was walking a few steps behind him.

“Huh? Why?”

“To walk you back.”

“Wow, you have better manners than I expected.”

“‘Than you expected’?”

He furrowed his brow.

“What exactly did you think of me?”

“Well... I mean... I know this isn’t the best comparison, but it’s the only word that comes to mind right now.”

She paused before saying, “A snob.”

“A snob?”

“Oh. That’s probably not the best word to use for a grown man, huh? Hmm, what else could I say…?”

Jian stroked her chin, lost in thought.

“A cold city guy is too cliché. But you’re not some cheap thug either.”

The man let out a dry chuckle, as if taken aback.

“You know you’re pretty blunt, right?”

“Am I?”

“So, which hotel?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t even know your name. Why should I tell you where I’m staying? That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

He fell silent.

“You have a real knack for leaving people speechless, don’t you?”

“Tell me your name. Then I’ll tell you my hotel.”

“Sorry, but I’m not that curious.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Well then, enjoy the rest of your trip. Make lots of good memories. And get home safe.”

Without a second thought, the man turned and walked away.

“Wow. Too cool for school, huh?”

Suddenly abandoned, Jian felt awkward and flustered.

She watched his retreating figure with a flicker of regret, then, without thinking, blurted out, “I’m staying at the Paritur Hotel! It’s just ten minutes from here! If you don’t mind, do you want to come up and have another drink with me? This time, it’ll really be—”

The man stopped and turned around and began striding toward her. One step. Then another.

“...on me.”

He closed the distance until he was just within reach, then grabbed Jian’s wrist firmly and pulled her toward him. Lowering his head, he locked eyes with her—his gaze cold and unreadable.

Jian swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the tension.

“What? Do you not want to?”

The man let out a breath of disbelief, followed by a deep, exasperated sigh that made the hairs on her arms stand up.

“You sure like to toe the line, don’t you?” he said, his deep voice dropping another octave. “I’m intrigued.”

Jian’s heart plummeted, then soared—over and over, like a bungee cord snapping between fear and desire.

That night, everything… was pure, reckless impulse.

* * *

“Do you know what kind of rumor is going around our apartment complex?”

Haejun spread cream cheese on his toast, still chuckling at the absurdity of it.

“Yeah. That we’re a gay couple.”

Meanwhile, Hyunmin took a sip of freshly brewed coffee, flipping through VOGXE KOREA with an indifferent expression.

“Just because two guys live together, they assume we’re gay?”

“It’s because of Sol.”

“Sol?”

“She calls both of us ‘Dad.’”

At Hyunmin’s blunt response, Haejun glanced down at Sol, who was happily sipping on a banana milk. His gaze was soft.

“Sol, sweetie. Don’t call Hyunmin ‘Dad,’ okay?”

“Nooo! He’s my Daaad!”

Sol’s lips trembled, as if she was about to burst into tears. Before she could, Hyunmin scooped her up into his arms.

“Just let her. If she wants to call me Dad, she can. Right, Sol?”

“Mm-hmm! Daddy!”

Sol snuggled into his shoulder, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

“So… what do we do about it?”

“Do about what?”

“The rumor.”

Still holding Sol, Hyunmin remained silent for a moment, then finally spoke.

“Just let them think whatever they want.”

“Just let them?” Haejun scoffed in disbelief. “Are you saying I should keep pretending to be in a gay relationship with you?”

“I'm not saying we should confirm it, but there's no need to deny it either. And honestly, you could do a lot worse than having me as your gay lover.”

“Cut the nonsense. We should be doing everything we can to shut this down, not just letting it slide. Why are you so okay with this?"

“Then what’s your plan? Are we supposed to go door to door, personally clarifying that we’re not a couple? Or maybe beg the management office to let us make a public announcement? Get on the mic and declare, ‘Just to be clear, we are not dating’? Don’t you think that would look even weirder?”

Now that he put it that way, it did sound ridiculous.

“People love gossip. Just let them have their fun.”

“You know words spread fast. What if this ruins your future dating prospects?”

“I’m sick of declining every blind date anyway. If this rumor stops them, even better.”

“Okay, fine. But what about my dating life? What about my chances of getting married?”

“Are you even seeing anyone? You don’t even have a girlfriend, and yet you’re worrying about marriage?”

“Hey, you—!”

Hyunmin’s sharp tongue spared no one, not even a friend who was closer than family.

Ignoring Haejun’s protests, Hyunmin set Sol back down in her seat, then patted her head.

“Sol, sweetie. have fun at daycare today. And if anyone gives you trouble, throw the first punch, got it? I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll lose my mind.”

“That’s a terrible lesson to teach a kid.”

“Don’t listen to your real dad. Just listen to me. Life’s all about throwing the first punch. Life’s what...?”

“Puunch!”

“Atta girl.”

Hyunmin ruffled her hair again, while Haejun glared at him briefly before turning to Sol.

“Sweetie, do you know what ‘punch’ means?” Haejun asked playfully, as Sol’s big eyes rolled thoughtfully.

“Bread! It’s food!”

At her innocent answer, both men erupted into laughter. Their laughter filled the room, warm and gentle, like a summer breeze.

“I’m heading out. I'll be late tonight.”

“Do I look like your wife? I don’t need a status update on your schedule.”

Hyunmin chuckled at Haejun’s grumbling, slipping on his suit jacket before heading out the door.

* * *

A fashion editor must always be ahead of the curve.

Since Hyunmin took over as editor-in-chief, every employee had been paying twice as much attention to their appearance, and their personal grooming budgets had doubled as well.

Because to him, an editor’s image was just as important as their work.

Jian entered the sleek, modern building in a black turtleneck mini dress, oversized blazer, and a pair of eye-catching green slingbacks.

“Wait! Hold the elevator!”

Seeing the elevator door closing, she sprinted forward, breathless.

Haa... Haa...

Thank you.”

She stepped inside and bowed slightly in gratitude—only to realize who had held the door open. As she made eye contact with the editor-in-chief, her eyes quivered.

“G-good morning, sir.”

Hyunmin didn’t reply. Instead, he let his gaze sweep over her outfit from head to toe.

“Do you not own a mirror?”

“I do.”

“And yet you still walked out of the house in those horrendous green slingbacks? How… bold of you.”

Unbelievable. He’s tearing me apart first thing in the morning!

Jian gritted her teeth.

But what could she do? He was the absolute authority. And if the editor-in-chief, who came straight from the fashion capital of France, said something was tacky, then… it was tacky.

Still, she quickly glanced over his outfit, trying to find something to nitpick.

Today, he wasn’t sporting his usual slicked-back hair.

Instead, his natural waves fell loosely over his forehead, softening his usually sharp aura.

He wore a luxurious plum-colored cashmere coat, a shade that was set to dominate the upcoming fall and winter season. As expected, he was ahead of the fashion curve.

Much to Jian’s dismay, there wasn’t a single flaw to nitpick in his outfit.

“What score would you give my outfit?”

“Pardon?”

It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head—he asked the question without even looking at her.

“Out of ten. How would you rate my outfit?”

“Oh...”

Jian hesitated, then, unable to help herself, spread her hands wide, showing all ten fingers.

“Obviously.”

The moment he finished his smug remark, the elevator doors opened on the twelfth floor.

With a flick of his coat, the editor-in-chief strode into THE Runway, leaving Jian standing there, letting out a small, awkward laugh.