Chapter 12: A Bad Feeling
by GideonNot long after parting ways with Do Zion, a paid message arrived.
The coffee at this place is refreshing and delicious, even though we haven’t done the interview yet.
It’s a shame I couldn’t try the desserts, though.
It felt like he was reporting every little detail to a lover.
“Hey, a fan is a fan, but a lover is still a lover. Who knows? He might be a pure-hearted man who can’t forget his first love.”
Actor Park threw out a plausible scenario, but no one responded to his words.
Do-won tapped the table, starting with a warning: “Listen up.”
“I went on a location shoot with Do Zion in Osaka a while back. Every time we took a break to shoot, he kept messaging someone. Usually, if you’re glued to your phone like that, it’s because you have a lover.”
He stuffed a snack into his mouth, crunching loudly, and continued with a deflated expression.
“But seriously, he only sends those messages to his fans. I shared a room with him for five days and four nights, you know? His love for his fans is insane. If he ever quits acting, I’m genuinely worried about what he’ll do for fun.”
That’s exactly right, Cha Jubin thought. Do Zion is so busy ‘dating’ his fans that he’ll probably never even get married.
Park Chan-gyu pouted. “He’ll still get married eventually, though. They say even a straw sandal finds its perfect match.”
“Do you know what Do Zion’s go-to line is in interviews?”
Of course I do. I know it all too well.
Cha Jubin picked up his beer glass and answered for Actor Park. “He always says he needs to focus on his work right now.”
“Exactly. I’ve never seen a celebrity who says stuff like that get married anytime soon. They know better than anyone that dating or marriage leads straight to a fan exodus.”
Actor Park still pouted, his hidden envy of Zion showing.
“I guess there’s a huge difference between can’t and won’t.”
“This industry has zero privacy. You know why athletes get married so early? Because they’re insecure. Their lives are too irregular, and the competition is cutthroat.”
Kim Do-won grabbed a handful of pretzel sticks and added, “It’s even worse in our world. The schedules are all over the place, you have to manage your image, and even if you get married, you still have no privacy. And if you get divorced? It’s just over.”
Actor Seo nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Divorce is no big deal these days,” Actor Seo said. “And people aren’t getting married because we have all the infrastructure to live happily single. It’s just not necessary anymore.”
Jubin couldn’t agree more.
In fact, seeing how even dating had become a choice, marriage and divorce felt like even more distant topics. It was a stark realization of his own commitment to staying single.
“I think men who live alone and focus on self-improvement are way more attractive,” Actor Seo added, her gaze lingering on him.
Jubin forced a smile to hide his awkwardness, but the expression came across as soft and warm, easily endearing him to others.
The after-work gathering continued, and Jubin found himself losing track of time. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long while. He didn’t want to let go of this feeling—the effortless camaraderie of chatting about trivial things with people in his industry, slowly letting them into his world.
Staring at the life-size cutout of Do Zion he’d brought as a joke, Do-won briefly imagined how the atmosphere would have changed if the real Zion were here.
They were preparing for the same project, yet he still felt worlds away.
“By the way, I’ve been wondering. Do Alphas and Omegas really feel a natural attraction to each other?”
The hope that anyone would answer this question was plain to see in Actor Park’s eyes. The problem was, Cha Jubin was the only Omega in the room.
Regardless of whether he trusted these people or not, Jubin decided there was no need to reveal his secondary gender here. He held back his answer.
“Who knows?” Do-won replied, his tone uncertain. “I guess it must be true. You see articles about Alpha-Omega couples in the entertainment industry all the time, saying they were drawn to each other.”
“I heard every pheromone has a unique scent. Just like how every Beta has their own distinct body odor.”
“A scent that recognizes the other… No, if they’ve become a couple, it means they only recognized each other’s scents. That’s fate.”
At those words, Cha Jubin’s expression gradually darkened.
Cha Jubin did not believe pheromones were necessarily destiny. If anything, they were shackles.
It meant having absolutely no will of one’s own, simply drowning in a chemical reaction. It seemed like such an irrational logic.
“But I heard that’s not even a thing these days. They check your levels before you present and prioritize chip implants. Alphas, especially, are subject to even stricter management.”
“That’s what makes it so surprising—that there are still so many Alpha-Omega couples despite such thorough management.”
Actor Seo, who had been listening silently, dabbed tint onto her lips and spoke casually.
“Can’t you just ask beforehand? Like, ‘Are you an Alpha? An Omega?’ You can just ask based on the vibe.”
“Isn’t that considered sexual harassment these days? You could get sued for that,” Actor Park asked, his tone more cautious.
Actor Seo replied with her usual boldness. “How can it be sexual harassment when you’re about to have sex? That’s a basic check. Isn’t it just like asking, ‘What’s your fetish? Are you a S or an M?’ You need to know your partner’s position first to enjoy it together.”
The others seemed freshly shocked by her candidness in discussing such a hot topic, yet the general atmosphere was one of agreement.
“Well, you do need to know their position before you get in bed. She’s got a point.”
Chip implants are typically placed in the back of the neck, the wrist, or behind the ear.
The area behind the ear is the most common choice since it’s less visible than the wrist. For women, long hair can conceal it completely, making the implant undetectable unless someone happened to see it by chance.
With advancements in skin grafting, the scars had become nearly invisible. In this day and age, it was virtually impossible to know someone’s secondary gender unless they chose to disclose it.
Jubin had presented during the summer break before starting middle school. It hadn’t happened overnight; there had been warning signs, much like a second growth spurt. As soon as he presented, he went to the hospital and had his first suppressant implant.
The chips typically needed replacement every three to five years, though newer technology now offered ten-year models. The problem was that they were prohibitively expensive, not covered by insurance.
Most people settled for the five-year chip. Jubin suspected his own implant was malfunctioning, especially when it came to Do Zion, so he’d scheduled a hospital appointment for the next morning.
The company dinner was in full swing, and the alcohol was steadily disappearing.
“Round two! Let’s go for round two!”
Kim Do-won, completely wasted, stumbled out of the restaurant and roared. He was so drunk he couldn’t even keep his balance, swaying precariously as he walked.
“Jubina, let’s go to the next place,” Do-won slurred, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over.
Cha Jubin let out a soft sigh.
As Do-won got drunker, the others had vanished. Actor Park had slipped away under the guise of using the restroom, and Actor Seo, who’d said she was just popping out to the convenience store, was nowhere to be seen.
One by one, the rest of the group had abandoned their seats, leaving Jubin to deal with the mess—and Do-won.
“Hey, where the hell did everyone go?”
Jubin was pretty drunk himself, but he was white-knuckling it through sheer willpower.
It was a Friday night in the entertainment district, and the main street was packed with people trying to hail taxis.
As they left the restaurant, the Do Zion cardboard cutout guarding the entrance looked so lonely that Jubin had tucked it under his arm and carried it out with them.
“So, where do you live?”
“My place? Why do you ask?”
“I thought we could head back together.”
He was too drunk to remember this conversation, so Jubin’s lie flowed out smoothly, his voice coaxing and sweet.
“Aah! You wanna go back to my place and drink more? Let’s take Actor Do with us!”
Every time Do-won spoke, the stench of alcohol wafted through the air. He made a wet, sputtering sound with his lips, then suddenly snatched the Do Zion cardboard cutout from Jubin’s side, hugging it tight as he started rambling.
“My baby, Actor Dooo. I love you so much, Actor Do. Why didn’t you come see me?”
Cha Jubin forced a strained smile. Ugh, this drunkard. Should I just dump him here?
Still, as his junior, it was his duty to at least get him into a taxi.
The problem was, there were no taxis. He tried hailing one through the app, but the estimated wait time just kept climbing without a single match.
Walking home from here was close enough, but Jubin never let anyone into his personal space.
That included his exes, his partners, and even his only living family member.
He had always kept his private sanctuary exclusively for himself—a place to unwind from the day’s exhaustion and fully recharge.
Just as he was looking for a place to grab a second round of drinks since no taxis were available, Kim Do-won went berserk.
“Actor Do!! I’m over here!!”
Suddenly, Do-won grabbed a standing sign and charged through the crowded street.
“Do-won sunbae! Wait—!”
The problem was, he collided with a group of delinquents and ended up sprawled on the ground.
“Aw, shit! This crazy bastard’s got eyes in the back of his head!”
The man with the shortest hair, a sharp jawline, and dark clothing snapped irritably.
Jubin had a bad feeling about this.
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