Bring It On! - Side Story 4

Side Story 4.

“CEO Cha. I’ll say it again. Don’t even think about trying that cremation-proposal stunt.”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Make it so she can’t wriggle out of it. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Bleeding people dry.”

Cha Yoon slumped deeper into the seat. Just then, his phone buzzed in his inner pocket. It was Sun Woori.

[Where are you?]

It wasn’t much, but his lips curled up anyway.

[On my way. Why? Want me to bring something?]

[Suho says he wants a croffle. The café near your office.]

They were already far from the company. But without a second’s hesitation, Cha Yoon gestured to Park Jong-hoo. Since he often sent him on coffee runs, Park immediately understood and turned the car around.

[And you?]

[I’m fine.]

[If I get this errand right, what’ll you give me?]

Before she could reply, Cha Yoon sent another message.

[Suck me. You’ve been keeping me from touching you lately.]

The message showed as read, but no reply came from Sun Woori.

***

Clack.

Park Jong-hoo set the vibrating buzzer down on the table. Cha Yoon was glaring daggers at his phone.

“If Ms. Sun Woori’s read it and still hasn’t replied, that means she’s not going to.”

“Fuck, seriously. You’re gonna keep acting like you know her?”

“I’m not. I don’t know. Just saying, that’s probably it.”

Park raised both hands, feigning indifference. Only then did Cha Yoon admit to himself he’d been ignored and set his phone down. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to flip it face down.

“Sun Woori is so lovable, but so indifferent.”

“Ever thought maybe you’re too much?”

“If I fell in the water with the kid, she’d definitely only save him.”

“Suho’s a good swimmer. He’d probably grab you by the hair and drag you to shore.”

“Damn it, I told her not to buy that piece-of-shit car, and she went and bought it anyway.”

As usual, the cursed car came up, and Park shuddered. From how long he’d been grumbling, he must really hate it.

“If I suddenly died, I bet she wouldn’t even ask anyone to find my ashes.”

“You already forgot how she nursed you when you got hurt because of Cha Seong-hwan?”

Just then, crash! The loud shattering of glass rang out. A few customers screamed. Naturally, Cha Yoon’s gaze turned toward the commotion.

Two drunk men were wreaking havoc at the counter. They were yelling incoherently, and no matter how politely the staff tried to calm them, it was useless. Customers began trickling out.

Park Jong-hoo was just about to get up when…

“Wait.”

Cha Yoon rose, buzzer in hand.

He tapped one of the drunks. The man spun around, spewing curses, but froze when he saw someone taller and far more solidly built. Still, alcohol dulled reason. 

Perhaps because he had already put on a show, the drunk started yelling even louder.

Cha Yoon waved the buzzer in front of his face.

“Because of you, my croffle isn’t coming out.”

He tilted his gaze toward the staff. The moment their eyes met, one of them flinched and hurried to start packing the order.

“What?! Who the hell do you think you are?!”

Both drunks staggered threateningly toward him. Cha Yoon’s lips curved upward.

“Director Park, lock the door.”

“…Yes.”

One drunk was already on the ground foaming at the mouth. His friend, terrified, begged for mercy.

“S-sorry! Please let me go. I swear it won’t happen again. I’ll never even turn my head this way for the rest of my life.”

Cha Yoon placed his hand near the man’s crown, as if testing whether he could hear the desperate pleading.

“Why are you so short.”

Muttering to himself, he dragged over a chair and sat.

“Should I sit here?” 

He asked Park Jong-hoo behind him.

Watching through his phone screen, Park shook his head. It looked unnatural, that was the problem.

“Hey, grab here.”

The man timidly pinched at the spot Cha Yoon indicated. His brows knit in disgust, making the man squeak in terror.

“Grab my collar properly.”

Cha Yoon glanced around, then poured a leftover Americano over his own head.

“How about now?”

“That works.”

“Let him go.”

Click, click. Click, click.

Park Jong-hoo, having taken the shots with all his might, sent the results to Cha Yoon. Just then, the door banged open and the two drunk men bolted outside as if making some desperate escape. 

But Cha Yoon didn’t spare them a glance. His goal achieved, he took the croffle the trembling employee handed him.

Before long, a call came in from Sun Woori. The fact that it was to Park Jong-hoo’s phone instead of his own annoyed him, but he figured it was just because she had panicked and let it go.

— Are you okay?!

Her alarmed voice spilled through the speaker. At Cha Yoon’s gesture, Park Jong-hoo quickly put the call on speaker.

“As you can see, the situation’s a little messy.”

— That man… he’s not badly hurt, is he?

“…Excuse me?”

Forgetting he was supposed to be acting, Park blurted back in confusion. He had even sent her the photo of the collar grab, yet the one she worried about wasn’t Cha Yoon.

— D-don’t tell me… you killed him?

“No. That’s not it, Ms. Woo-ri. The CEO—”

— You hid the body?

Park sneaked a glance at Cha Yoon’s face. The anticipation that had been painted there turned shockingly fast to a cold, hard expression.

“No, Ms. Woo-ri. The CEO’s the victim here.”

— You mean he’s the one who *hurt* someone, right?

“No, Ms. Woo-ri. Just now the drunks—”

No matter how he tried, she wouldn’t believe him. Park was at a loss for how to explain when Cha Yoon snatched the phone away. He turned off speaker mode and pressed it to his ear.

“Baby. I got roughed up and I’m on my way home, so wait for me.”

Saying only that, he hung up, grabbed the croffle, and walked out. Drops of Americano fell mournfully from the ends of his hair.

Watching his back, Park clicked his tongue and pulled out his wallet. He shoved whatever cash he could grab onto the counter, bowed with an apology, and left. 

The clean-up, as always, fell to Director Park.

***

Suho, who had been waiting for the croffle, eventually fell asleep when Cha Yoon’s return dragged on longer than expected.

Sun Woori flinched at the sight of him, drenched in coffee. Leaving him standing in the entryway, she searched him over with sharp, serious eyes.

“Baby, what are you looking for?”

“……”

At his narrowed gaze, her hand froze where it clutched his jacket. It was obvious. She was looking for blood. She wasn’t worried about whether Cha Yoon had been hurt, but whether he had killed someone.

“No.”

The lie was so transparent it was painful. Afraid he might press further, she snatched the croffle from his hand and shoved him toward the bedroom.

“Go wash up.”

Inside the shower stall, Cha Yoon peeled off his coffee-soaked clothes with a gloomy air. What stung wasn’t the coffee but Sun Woori’s attitude.

Even when he’d told her he was beaten up, she hadn’t worried. She in fact doubted him.

When he came out, Sun Woori was lounging against the bed, scrolling on her phone. Feeling his presence, she tossed aside the blanket and approached. 

In that brief moment, Cha Yoon’s sharp eyes caught her screen. Park Jong-hoo’s photo glared back at him from her display.

Perhaps guilt pricked her then, because she rose on tiptoe and began drying his hair with a towel.

“Must’ve been a lot of drunks, it’s Friday night. You should’ve just come straight home, really.”

Her gentle voice sounded like comfort, and Cha Yoon’s heart twisted. He hadn’t even been hit, yet he felt like someone battered and consoled.

“Mhm.”

“Sit. My arms are tired.”

He perched on the edge of the bed and bent his head. Each pass of her small fingers over his scalp sent strange tingles through his chest.

But he couldn’t endure it for long. He caught her wrist and tugged. The towel slipped to the floor, landing across her feet. There was nothing more satisfying than having her small frame pulled obediently into his embrace.

Settled on his solid thigh, he whispered softly. 

“Just once tonight.”

“You know I can’t. Suho’s meeting is tomorrow, so we have to head to Seoul early. I really can’t stay up all night this time.”

Cha Yoon gave a low hum, then sealed her protest with a kiss.