Hanjae has changed outfits six times.

He knows. He knows perfectly well.
He knows it’s ridiculous, that he’s overreacting, but every time he looks in the mirror, something feels wrong.

The shirt too light, the suit too dark, the shoes too fancy—or not enough. The collar too tight, the tie crooked, his hair falling wrong over his forehead.

It’s just a gala, and he doesn’t even want to go.
But Jiwoon invited him.
So nothing is ever “just.”

He stops in front of the tall mirror in the living room. Studies himself. Straight shoulders. Fixed stare. Short breath.

The cream-colored jacket looks too flashy. The black one too plain.

“Okay, that’s enough,” a voice murmurs behind him.

Hanjae startles. His reflection shatters.

Jiwoon is there. Behind him.

He walks up silently, brushes his neck. Right there, where under the thin fabric of his shirt, Jiwoon’s bite still lingers.

He kisses it.

“You need to relax. You look amazing,” he whispers.

Hanjae closes his eyes. His breath catches in his throat.

Jiwoon hugs him from behind, hands sliding over his hips. His pheromones surround him. No marks needed. They’re everywhere. On him. Inside him.

Hanjae tilts his head back, resting it on Jiwoon’s shoulder. Their hips press together, and he feels him—already hard against him.

“No,” he says, reluctantly.

“Mmm… what?”

“We’re not having sex, Jiwoon. Not today.”

Jiwoon holds him tighter, groaning softly. “Come on. Just a little—”

“No way. Get ready. We have to leave.”

Jiwoon pulls back, looking offended.

“I am ready,” he protests. He’s wearing a white shirt and dark jeans.

Hanjae glares as if he could set him on fire.

“I’ve been getting ready for hours, and you want to show up in jeans?! Nope. Not happening.”

He grabs his shoulders, turns him, pushes him gently toward his room.

“You’re putting on a suit. Black or cream. Pick.”

“I don’t own a cream suit.”

“Then you’re wearing the black one.”

Jiwoon grumbles, but obeys.

The gala is exactly what Hanjae imagined—maybe worse.

Champagne, fake laughter, tailored suits, watches worth more than a semester of tuition. The air reeks of niche perfumes and falseness.

The Jeon villa is so large it looks like a government building.

Hanjae walks beside Jiwoon, stiff as a mannequin.

“If you keep this up, you’re going to explode,” Jiwoon whispers, leaning closer.
“Relax. You’ve known my family for years, right?”

“Yes, but this is different!”

Jiwoon glances at him and smiles. Hanjae blushes like an idiot.

“There they are…” Jiwoon mutters suddenly, downing the rest of his champagne.

Hanjae follows his gaze.
Jiwoon’s grandmother and father are approaching.

“Hanjae, my god, you’ve grown so much!” his father exclaims, an omega with delicate features and a warm expression.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon Haneul,” Hanjae murmurs, bowing slightly.

The man hugs him, and for a moment Hanjae is grateful for the mark. He can’t smell his son on him.

“It’s so nice to have you here. Thank you for always looking after our poor Jiwoon.”

“Dad…” Jiwoon mutters, visibly embarrassed.

“What? I’m only telling the truth,” the man laughs. Then back to Hanjae: “I know it must be tiring, especially now that things are over with sweet Minji…”

“He cheated on me, Dad…”

“Speaking of which…” Jiwoon’s grandmother, Mrs. Jeon Sookhee, jumps in, brimming with excitement. “There are so many omegas here who want to meet you! From good families! Your grandfather invited the most eligible ones he knows!”

Hanjae stiffens.
So does Jiwoon.

The alpha just brushes his shoulder with his fingers before letting his grandmother drag him away.

Hanjae watches him go.

Haneul leans closer, voice dropping.
“Truth is, I think this whole circus was organized just to find him a new partner…”

Hanjae stays silent.

“Times may have changed, but everyone still wants Jiwoon married soon…” The man sighs, pressing a hand to his chest. “But I think it’s useless. Jiwoon will go back to Minji eventually. I can feel it.”

Hanjae, mid-sip of his drink, freezes.

“By the way, Hanjae… maybe you could help a little? I’ve heard Minji is devastated. And now Jiwoon won’t even answer his calls.”

“I… I think it’s better if I stay out of it,” he replies, stiff.

“Of course, you’re friends with both. But don’t you think—it might be the right thing to do? Jiwoon has always loved Minji. He’s just strayed off course…”

Hanjae lowers his gaze.

“I’ve got a few more years on you, I know what I’m saying. Mistakes happen, but when there’s love, you forgive. Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose… I don’t really know much about it…”

“Just promise me that if you get the chance, you’ll help them find their way back. Hm?”

Hanjae doesn’t answer.
He wants to nod, just to close the conversation, but he can’t even manage that.

Mr. Jeon is called over by another guest. He pats Hanjae’s shoulder and leaves.

Hanjae stands alone, surrounded by dozens of people, in a grand hall. And yet all he feels is emptiness.

Emptiness around him.
Emptiness inside.

He looks toward Jiwoon, caught up in conversation with some omegas, shaking hands, bowing shyly. His cheeks flushed.

Hanjae turns.
And leaves.