TGMD 10
by Sylvie Hart 🪐Chapter 10
A Special Event
Yoo-joo tried to concentrate on her work, but nothing would stay in her hands.
It had been like this ever since the party last week, when she and Do-kyung had shared a kiss. She hated to admit it, but just like when she had first met him, she couldn’t get him out of her head.
Eventually, Yoo-joo took her hands off the keyboard and leaned back in her chair. Unrestrained sighs escaped her one after another.
“What on earth is he plotting?”
Everything Do-kyung had done since their reunion had left Yoo-joo with nothing but question marks.
The serious aftereffects of the car accident that had been severe enough to cause him to go into shock, his strangely obsessive determination to break off her engagement, and finally, the sight of him even getting down on his knees and begging her.
There were too many disconnected pieces for her to dismiss it all as simple possessiveness.
There had to be a clue to those unexplained things somewhere in the nine years she had been away from Korea.
Yoo-joo had to find out somehow. What had happened to him during that time? What had his life been like without her?
She couldn’t let herself be played by him again. If he had no intention of stopping, then she had to be the one to stop.
After thinking it over carefully, Yoo-joo left her office and called for her secretary.
“Secretary Song.”
She looked oddly embarrassed.
“Yes, Director.”
“Let’s call it a day and go home.”
“What about you?”
Secretary Song Ji-min, who was expected to leave work whenever her superior did, stood up and asked.
“I was going to leave too. And, I’m sorry to ask this, but…”
“Yes?”
“……”
“Please, go ahead.”
Yoo-joo hesitated, unable to bring herself to speak right away. She even fidgeted with her fingers like a child who had done something wrong.
“I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
What kind of favor could it possibly be that she was hesitating this much?
“I know it’s something I probably shouldn’t ask, and I never thought I’d be asking something like this myself…”
Yoo-joo was indeed the second daughter of an extremely powerful family, but she was more down-to-earth and warmhearted than most people. When Ji-min had first started working with her, all of her prejudices and worries about Yoo-joo had quickly disappeared. Yoo-joo always treated her subordinates with respect. She also hardly ever asked anyone for favors first.
Seeing someone like that fumble over her words made Ji-min all the more eager to grant her request.
“It’s really all right. Please, ask me anything.”
“Could you… perhaps investigate someone’s background for me?”
At the exceedingly innocent question that followed, Ji-min almost burst out laughing.
She was getting this nervous over something as trivial as that?
If Yoo-joo ever saw the kinds of things secretaries for other chaebol families did, she might faint.
“I don’t personally do that sort of thing, but I can gather the information for you. There’s no information that money can’t buy.”
Ji-min suppressed her laughter and explained in the kindest, calmest voice possible. It was no big deal, after all, and she didn’t want Yoo-joo to feel too apologetic.
“Who would you like to know about? Prosecutor Ko Ha-jin?”
She asked enthusiastically.
Naturally, she had assumed Yoo-joo wanted a background check on her fiancé, Ha-jin.
Ji-min had heard plenty of bad rumors about Ha-jin herself. There was a network among secretaries that ordinary employees knew nothing about. Especially among executive assistants who served the upper class, deadly secrets that could never be allowed to become public often circulated discreetly.
The biggest piece of gossip among them was undoubtedly Prosecutor Ko Ha-jin’s sordid private life. There was even a joke that simply brushing against him meant becoming his lover for the night. He was far removed from the exemplary and incorruptible prosecutor portrayed in the media.
Whether Yoo-joo knew about it or not, Ji-min had been inwardly worried because her innocent-looking boss was determined to marry him.
Was she finally beginning to suspect her fiancé?
There were so many scandals involving Ha-jin that she wouldn’t even need time to investigate. Ji-min had already organized them in her head, including the rumors of his affair with announcer So Eun-kyo.
The moment she received permission, she intended to tell Yoo-joo everything.
“No. I mean Han Do-kyung, the executive director of Doseong Group.”
But the name Yoo-joo uttered was completely unexpected.
Ji-min’s relaxed expression stiffened. She was so taken aback that she couldn’t even control her expression.
“Excuse me?”
Why was Executive Director Han Do-kyung coming up here?
“He was in a serious car accident in the past. I want to know exactly how many years ago it happened and how badly he was injured.”
From her serious tone, she clearly wasn’t joking. And Ji-min hadn’t misheard her, either.
“…Why do you want to know that?”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m asking too much of you.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just unexpected. I thought the person Director Yoo-joo would be most curious about right now was Prosecutor Ko Ha-jin.”
At that, Yoo-joo let out a quiet laugh.
“I already know Prosecutor Ko isn’t a good person, so there’s nothing in particular I’m curious about.”
When even her older brother Yoo-ho had advised her against marrying Ha-jin at the last party, she had become certain.
Ha-jin was an even worse man than she had thought. And that was why Do-kyung was desperately trying to make her break off the engagement.
“What I’m curious about is Han Do-kyung.”
Even though he had been the one to abandon her first, Do-kyung had suddenly reappeared and declared that he would protect her. Yoo-joo wanted to know what was behind his intentions.
More than anything, she wanted to know whether the car accident he had suffered had anything to do with their breakup.
Honestly, everything else was outside the scope of her interest.
“Were you originally acquainted with Executive Director Han Do-kyung?”
“We crossed paths briefly.”
Yoo-joo’s vague answer made her seem different from usual. At times, she looked like a young girl; at others, like a mature woman who had experienced heartbreak.
One thing was certain: her expression was so sorrowful that it made anyone looking at her feel a pang in their heart.
It seemed there was a past between the two of them that no one else knew about.
After considering what would be best for Yoo-joo, Ji-min spoke in a determined voice a moment later.
“All right. I’ll find out as quickly as possible.”
In any case, given the current situation, Ji-min thought it was important to help Yoo-joo completely lose her affection for Ha-jin and turn her attention elsewhere.
“Thank you.”
“Not at all. I’m always indebted to you, Director.”
Even as another woman, Ji-min couldn’t simply stand by and watch someone as lovely as Yoo-joo become entangled with such a low-quality man and fall into a pit of misery.
At least in Ji-min’s opinion, Executive Director Han Do-kyung was a much better match for Yoo-joo than Prosecutor Ko Ha-jin.
Had she asked for too much?
Yoo-joo had worried about it all day, and now that she had actually asked Secretary Song for help, she regretted it.
But the milk had already been spilled, and she decided there was no point in making a futile attempt to put it back in the container.
The overtime and worrying of the past few days had left her exhausted. She wanted to get home quickly and make up for her lack of sleep, so she got into her car and headed home.
Then, across the road from the company, a huge electronic billboard suddenly caught Yoo-joo’s eye.
It was a poster for a romance movie that had been released more than twelve years ago.
She stepped on the accelerator, deliberately passing the billboard without looking at it, but the image remained in her mind.
In the end, she turned the car around and headed back toward the cinema.
Any suspicion that she might have seen it incorrectly vanished the moment she got closer.
Yoo-joo looked up at the impossibly tall billboard.
It wasn’t a mistake.
It was real.
The advertisement for the romance movie she had first watched with Do-kyung back when they were students and members of the film club was hanging on the building right in front of her company, as if it had appeared in a dream.
Was this coincidence?
Or fate?
Drawing in a trembling breath, Yoo-joo walked into the cinema with the clicking of her heels echoing beneath her.
“Yes, would you like to purchase a ticket?”
An employee with her hair tied into two pigtails greeted Yoo-joo cheerfully.
“The movie that’s being advertised on the building outside… Is it showing right now?”
But Yoo-joo’s voice as she answered was heavy and muffled with emotion.
“If you mean the movie on the building outside… you’re talking about The Great Mad Dog, right? Yes, that’s correct. This week is our ‘Classic Movie Event Week,’ so starting today, you’ll be able to watch the movie you mentioned for three days. Please note, however, that this special event is only being held at our cinema.”
It was too perfectly timed to be a coincidence.
Of all times, why was this movie appearing in front of her again now?
Yoo-joo let out a hollow laugh and, without even realizing it, bought a ticket.
If she missed this event, she had no idea when she would ever get another chance to see the movie in a theater.
Regardless of her memories involving Do-kyung, it was genuinely one of Yoo-joo’s most memorable movies.
She didn’t buy popcorn or a drink. Instead, she entered the auditorium just as the advertisements were ending and the movie was about to begin.
There were only a few people inside.
It was a late weekday evening, and a science-fiction movie that had already surpassed ten million viewers was playing in another auditorium.
There weren’t many people willing to watch such an old, outdated movie.
Unless, like Yoo-joo, they were a fan.
Soon, the opening credits appeared.
In truth, after breaking up with Do-kyung, Yoo-joo had deliberately avoided this movie.
She had wanted to forget.
But as she watched the opening, those feelings from that time came rushing back as though they had never disappeared.
Every emotion she had shared with Do-kyung in that cramped clubroom came flooding back as vividly as if it had happened only yesterday.
Then, someone opened the cinema door late.
Yoo-joo, absorbed in the movie, didn’t notice.
The unexpected visitor walked slowly toward her.
He sat down in the seat beside Yoo-joo, whose eyes had filled with tears despite the fact that the scene wasn’t particularly sad.
Tilting the popcorn he was carrying toward her, he whispered softly,
“The popcorn here is pretty good. Want some?”
At the familiar voice, Yoo-joo turned her head.
As the male lead in the movie switched on a light, the theater brightened along with the screen.
And the handsome features of the unexpected visitor were revealed in full.
His appearance was every bit as perfectly timed as the movie itself.
It was Do-kyung.
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