"No matter how much one succeeds in life, there is always something that holds one back. Something they desperately yearn to let go of, yet it remains firmly rooted, clinging to them like a lifeline that simultaneously empowers their soul while slowly eroding it from within. For me, that something was you. You were kind, brave, and honest—a haven in a chaotic world. But everything shifted with you. You transformed into a figure of selfishness and cowardice, ultimately becoming a sanctuary solely for yourself."
Ha-Neul had never quite grasped this poignant statement from a book he read in his youth. In his childlike perspective, the protagonist's assertion that her beloved could not love him seemed egregiously selfish, suggesting a paradox where one's capacity to love was linked to their own self-esteem. He always believed that true love stems from the ability to love oneself; how could one extend genuine affection to another if they were unable to cherish their own being? However, as he lay there in the aftermath of the events, a flicker of understanding sparked within him. Perhaps the protagonist's sentiment held a glimmer of logic, yet it remained steeped in self-centeredness that offered no justification for her words. Now, Ha-Neul felt a flicker of empathy for her plight—a deeper understanding than he had ever expected to possess.
"When he wakes up, tell him the news." Ha-Neul's consciousness slowly returned, and he heard Jae-Yul's voice, low and steady, as he conversed with a nurse just out of view. "Your Highness," a maid called out, her voice laced with urgency as she noticed Ha-Neul's eyelids fluttering. Jae-Yul's hand instinctively moved, brushing against Ha-Neul's forehead before gliding down to his neck. For the first time, Ha-Neul could discern a hint of worry etched in Jae-Yul's usually impassive features. "Maybe," Ha-Neul thought, a fragile hope blossoming within him as he extended his hand toward Jae-Yul's face. "Maybe my love for him is enough. He is loyal and will stand by my side. Must he love me back?" Yet, in a sudden surge of emotion, Ha-Neul's frustration erupted; he smacked Jae-Yul's hand away and recoiled.
"Where am I?" he demanded, his voice shaky as he surveyed his surroundings and realized he was in Jae-Yul's bedroom. "Wuhao... Where's Wuhao? Is he okay?" he pressed, anxiety coursing through him like an electric current. Jae-Yul, dismissing the nurse and the staff with a slight wave, picked up a tablet and opened a news report detailing Wuhao's recent suicide attempt and the viral video that had ignited the hate campaign against him.
"His Majesty kept his promise," Jae-Yul stated, handing the tablet to Ha-Neul. "The recording with clear audio was leaked anonymously to a fan group, which released it to the press. Public opinion has notably shifted. Wuhao is in the hospital now. He's stable; you don't need to worry."
Ha-Neul's frustration peaked as he smashed the tablet onto the polished floor, shattering the fragile device as though it mirrored his own crumbling emotions.
"Worry?" His brows knit tightly as he moved closer to Jae-Yul, seizing his collar in a desperate grip. "Worry!?" Tears welled in his eyes, anger fueling his words as he jolted Jae-Yul with his impassioned plea. "You and your father could have cost me my best friend through your actions! You ask me not to worry. How could you be so selfish?" Releasing Jae-Yul, he stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, the weight of despair overwhelming him. In a frantic rush, he gathered his belongings and dashed out of the room, his heart pounding as he made his way to the hospital.
"When is this going to stop?" Ji-Hyun, Jae-Yul's sister, entered the room just after Ha-Neul stormed out. Her voice dripped with condescension as she confronted her brother. "Do you have no self-respect?" Jae-Yul, unable to meet her piercing gaze, was painfully aware he had faced this scolding far too many times. "You represent the royal family, and you let that man reduce you to a quivering child." She approached him, gently grasping his hand, her touch both comforting and commanding. "We cannot afford such weaknesses. Do you realize the number of enemies already seeking to exploit your relationship with him? What will they do if they discover a Prince so infatuated that he jeopardizes our family's name—the Royal family's integrity to protect someone else?"
Her words struck home, resonating painfully within Jae-Yul as they perfectly articulated the political ramifications of his feelings for Ha-Neul. "The world has progressed to accept this marriage, but the palace and those who uphold it remain loyal to the old beliefs that built these very walls. They will not back down because of misplaced loyalty. Either you end this relationship, or you demand he follow through with it. Anything in between is intolerable. This is not merely sisterly advice; it is an order from the queen."
Ji-Hyun's unwavering gaze held Jae-Yul captive as she tightened her grip on his hand. Silence enveloped them, but the weight of her expectations loomed large. Eventually, understanding her concerns, Jae-Yul nodded, a resolve forming in his chest. "I won't disappoint you," he murmured, acknowledging the harsh reality they faced. A verdict was clutched tightly between them—a promise that nothing would slip by the vigilant eyes of the royal family and those who wish to destroy it.
"Fold your legs properly!" An elderly man bellowed, striking Woo-Bin sharply on the back with his cane, his voice a mix of authority and exhaustion. He directed the command at all the young men seated on the floor in front of Wuhao's hospital bed—Woo-Bin, Jay, Eui-Jin, and Haruto—who were gathered there attempting to express their remorse. "If any of you dare slack off, I'll show you what hell feels like!" The man's voice, though stern, carried the weight of fatigue, revealing how much effort it took for him to maintain that imposing demeanor. "Jay! No supporting yourself!" he reprimanded, catching Jay in the act of trying to alleviate the throbbing pain in his legs by placing his hands beneath him.
"Is there anything else you'd like?" Seok-Hwan asked Wuhao, taking the empty food tray away now that lunch was finished, giving Wuhao a moment to rest. "The nurse mentioned that this will be your last IV treatment. I'll take you to remove your catheter, and then we can leave this place." Wuhao nodded in acknowledgment. With everyone close to him facing punishment, and the other company staff hesitant to enter the room, Seok-Hwan remained as Wuhao's steadfast guardian, as Ha-Neul was yet to reappear.
Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang as Ha-Neul rushed in, a mixture of worry and relief splashed across his face at the sight of Wuhao. However, his momentum was abruptly halted when he tripped over the old man's feet, tumbling clumsily to the floor. "Grandpa!" he yelled in frustration as he turned to scold the old man. But instead, he was met with a sharp rebuke. "Don't you dare call me that!" The elder reprimanded, striking Ha-Neul's legs with his cane, then gesturing for him to mimic the others. "It's already a disgrace to be related to that self-absorbed wench!" he pointed at Woo-Bin with his cane, as if he were a judge sentencing a guilty party. "I don't need any more ungrateful brats calling me grandpa. Now, fold your legs!"
In stunned silence, Ha-Neul begrudgingly complied, muttering under his breath. The old man's frustration rose. "Now that all these ungrateful brats are assembled, it's time to start apologizing!" he commanded, swinging his cane one last time. The four young men began to chant in unison, bowing their heads as they repeated their apologies, "We're sorry, Wuhao, for everything you've had to endure. We apologize for not standing by you. We deserve to be punished. Please, forgive us." Their chant echoed throughout the sterile hospital room, infused with a certain intensity, as they knew any misstep in their words could earn them a sharp reprimand.
After several rounds of their grieving chant, Wuhao finally raised his hand, signaling for silence and asking them to leave him in peace. "But you're not going to leave the group, right?" Ha-Neul questioned hesitantly, only to be met with the old man's swift rebuke. "If he told you to leave, then you leave!" the elder exclaimed, forcefully ushering everyone out of the room. "And with what audacity do you ask him that? Even if by some miracle he chooses to stay, I'll make sure he leaves. There's no chance in hell I'm allowing him to remain with you misguided fools." His harsh words contained an undertone of sincere concern for Wuhao, a soft comfort cloaked in tough love, underscoring that he understood the gravity of their neglect and that Wuhao deserved an earnest apology.
"Our careers are as good as over if he decides to leave," Woo-Bin protested, attempting to engage his grandfather, but the elder wasn't swayed. "And what about his career?" he retorted, genuine curiosity and concern lacing his tone. He truly wanted to understand how they could be so selfish as to prioritize their own futures over Wuhao's well-being. "Do you know how gut-wrenching it is for me to acknowledge that my company was the first to announce that statement? The hiatus notice sounded more like a death sentence than anything else. You're the one who discovered him—did it not even terrify you? The thought that he might have died if you had arrived even a moment later?" As Woo-Bin opened his mouth to respond, Haruto swiftly pinched him, pulling him aside to stifle his objections.
"And you," the old man turned to Jay, poking him firmly in the chest with his cane. "You'd be six feet under by now if your aunt weren't the queen. All of you…" He sighed in exasperation, "have no clue about the severity of the situation, yet none of you cared enough to issue a genuine apology. Do any of you even know what day it is today?" He directed his question at Ha-Neul, whose face shifted as realization washed over him—it was Wuhao's 18th birthday. "This was supposed to be a significant day for him—a day of celebration, a day of transition. But you not only tarnished this moment, but also ruined this day for him for the rest of his life. Congratulations!" He started clapping sarcastically.
"And you, Eui-Jin," he finally turned to Eui-Jin, who stood there, too ashamed to meet his gaze, his eyes fixed on the floor. "You publicly declared how problematic Wuhao was, urging every member to treat him strictly and avoid coddling him. Yet, when you discovered that he was grappling with serious mental health issues, you chose silence over support. You didn't inform anyone. You had no problem airing your dirty laundry in front of the press, but when it came to defending Wuhao—his innocent soul—you left him to fend for himself. The other members still believe he might be putting on an act because of your reckless words." The weight of his statements hung thick in the air, resonating painfully with all present. Jay and the others had remained indifferent toward Wuhao largely because Eui-Jin had failed to share the truth of Wuhao's struggles. Even after the scandal broke, all Eui-Jin could manage was a vague public plea for calm, never fully confronting the reality of Wuhao's condition.
"What is he talking about?" Haruto stepped forward, his frustration boiling over as he turned to face Eui-Jin, who remained rooted in place, eyes downcast and trembling. "See," he scoffed with disbelief as he took in Eui-Jin's obvious discomfort. "They don't even know. You exploited that poor boy's mental health to strengthen your own group's image. Now, you've only earned him scrutiny, with the world—and even his own members—believing his struggles are nothing more than a tactic for public sympathy, and all this because you mishandled sensitive information during the scandal."
Jay's gaze shifted sharply to Eui-Jin, and he could feel the tension soaring as Woo-Bin and Ha-Neul joined him, urgency radiating from their expressions. "I didn't tell you… because I thought… I thought you'd be…" Eui-Jin stammered, his voice fading into uncertainty. "What?" Ha-Neul's voice was gentle yet insistent, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he grasped Eui-Jin's hand, urging him to reveal the truth, while Jay and Woo-Bin looked on with bated breath. "He wasn't using the lighters to smoke or the knives to vandalize. He was using them to hurt himself—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Haruto lunged forward, a surge of rage propelling him as he landed a hard punch to Eui-Jin's face, sending him crashing to the floor. Reaction was instant—Woo-Bin and Jay seized Haruto, trying to restrain him as he struggled against their grip, reckless and furious. Ha-Neul stepped in between them.
"Do you have any idea how much I blamed myself when I saw him?" Haruto shouted, desperation creeping into his words, his body shaking as he fought to break free from his members' grasp. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I found him lying unconscious, foam gathering at his mouth, thinking I might never see him alive again?" His voice cracked, emotion overwhelming him as tears spilled from his eyes, releasing years of pent-up anguish. "You made us believe he deserved this! When we were carrying him in here, I thought maybe… maybe this was for the best. An easy way out. You acted as if you were our friend, but I'm glad this moment revealed your true colors. You're nothing more than a money-hungry lying, manipulative CEO!"
"Haruto!" Jay shouted, slapping him hard across the face, forcibly bringing him back to the present and halting his tirade. The room vibrated with tension as tempers flared, and Woo-Bin's grandfather intervened, swiftly guiding Haruto and Ha-Neul away while sending Woo-Bin and Jay alongside Eui-Jin to separate them, attempting to defuse the explosive situation.
"Hear that," Wuhao murmured softly as Seok-Hwan organized his belongings, preparing himself for bed. "They're all fighting because of me."
Seok-Hwan let out a heavy sigh and sauntered over to the fridge, where he retrieved what appeared to be a cake box. With a gentle smile, he opened it, revealing a beautifully decorated cake, and began to set candles atop it. As he lit each one, the soft flicker of flames illuminated his face, transforming it into a warm glow. "They're battling with guilt and fear, but you have nothing to feel guilty about." He looked at Wuhao, an encouraging light dancing in his eyes. "Let's enjoy our time together. We don't owe anyone anything."
At that moment, a wave of understanding washed over Wuhao, and tears brimmed in his eyes as he blew out the candles. For the second time in his life, he understood that a stranger will always be kinder than the people he holds expectations for, and the people who owe him that kindness.