Dirty Switch

He didn’t need to wield authority like his parents, didn’t need to be sweet and smooth like his siblings, and didn’t have the captivating aura of someone like Seo Baekhan—but if people could say, “Ah, that Joo Taehyun guy is equally prickly to everyone,” then that was enough. That had become his goal.
“It already feels hot, and it’s only early summer.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”

The only solace Taehyun had was that summer break was just around the corner.
…Would there be another concert at Changgyeong Palace this summer?
Even if there were, Seo Baekhan probably wouldn’t attend.

From what he’d overheard from his older siblings, Baekhan had supposedly secured a student leadership position in a Korean association in California—maybe as chapter president. Anyway, something prestigious. And even without the family grapevine, news about him was easy to find. A simple search would flood you with results.
Technically a grad student now, but in terms of age, he was still just twenty. Not even a Korean-American—an international student. Which only made his social adaptability more impressive. Actually, it was probably more accurate to call it command, not charm.
Whenever things around him got noisy, Taehyun would quietly revisit that first moment he met Seo Baekhan. Inevitably, his fingers would drift to his phone.

11:30 p.m.
Hyung, hi. Hope you're doing well 😊
Baekhan:
Oh? Taehyun-ah, hehe
Are you studying hard?
What’s up?
3:45 a.m.
Ah, it’s nothing serious
I’ve been thinking about early study abroad too
Was wondering how you managed your credits! :)

That last message still had no reply. In fact, it hadn’t even been read yet.
Maybe his Wi-Fi was slow? Could his data be acting up?
He exited the chat, reentered, but it was the same. After staring at the screen for a while, it dimmed—then finally shut off.

In the black mirror of the phone, all Taehyun could see was his own disappointed face.
He rubbed his dry cheek for no reason.
…He probably shouldn’t have sent that message. Baekhan wasn’t an admissions consultant or anything. It must’ve come off as annoying.

Even the lukewarm heat from his palm brushing his lips brought back memories of that summer night.
Crickets chirping, lanterns lighting up all at once, the low murmur of Baekhan’s voice beyond [N O V E L I G H T] the audience’s awe, and that thick, syrupy scent of overripe fruit wafting in the air.
So vivid it felt like yesterday—yet so distant it might as well have been another life. Taehyun found himself replaying that moment over and over again today, too.
Maybe, even as he grows older, every time summer draws near, he’ll end up missing that concert night when he first opened his eyes to the world. That summer night when he hatched from his shell.

Age fourteen, autumn.
These days, Joo Taehyun was seriously thinking about his future.
He wasn’t quite a genius like Seo Baekhan, but he was the kind of student who could take a bit of input and produce meaningful results. And thankfully, he was surrounded by people always ready to spoon-feed him just a little more.

So his academics were going smoothly as planned.
He’d already passed the qualification exam, and all the preparations for entering an international school were complete. Since it used an American-style credit system, early graduation was possible if he accumulated enough credits quickly.
There were plenty of options—high-ranking private schools, foreign language schools, autonomous schools—but to Taehyun, the specific school didn’t matter. As long as the diploma was valid for studying abroad and he could graduate early, that was enough.

The school issue, which had been his biggest source of stress, was resolved surprisingly easily. But the problem was… he had no plan for what came next.
Maybe because he had struggled so much in middle school, his parents seemed to take it for granted that he’d study abroad. He wasn’t exactly opposed to it either, but… he hadn’t given any serious thought to which country or what university, let alone a major.
The U.S.? DH had the most overseas branches there, and it was the most convenient option. But… he didn’t want to study business.

In fact, Joo Taehyun had zero interest in succession. He didn’t care whether it was a main affiliate or a small subsidiary—he didn’t want to be in charge of any company.
Spending just one year at middle school had been enough for him to realize, painfully, that he wasn’t cut out for business. Just being around people exhausted him.
Team projects? They were a nightmare. Those who claimed they felt fulfillment from strategically allocating talent and accomplishing goals together? They all seemed like deranged perverts to him.

If someone like him took over the company, DH Group—the result of decades of hard work—would crash and burn in an instant.
Above all, he had no desire to take anything away from his beloved siblings.
He knew if they ever found out what he was thinking, they’d make a huge fuss, call him crazy. They were rare for a chaebol family—siblings who never once treated him like a rival, who’d never imagine the youngest trying to take what was theirs.

But a company the size of DH didn’t move solely by the will of its owners.
His eldest and second-eldest brothers were married with kids now. In that kind of environment, if people kept pushing responsibility onto him, there was no guarantee their wives—or their families—would stay silent.
Besides, he’d heard that even before he was born, the division of roles between siblings had already been roughly decided. Naturally so—his older siblings were already adults at the time.

He didn’t want to be the variable that threw it all into confusion. If he had undeniable talent, that might be different. But when it was obvious that all he had were lukewarm ambition and subpar aptitude, all he’d end up doing was ruining everything.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already received plenty. He’d been handed a fair share of stock, movable and immovable assets, and other wealth.
So really, what was he supposed to do with the rest of his life?

Which university should he attend? What should he major in?
In this stormy adolescent phase, Joo Taehyun had almost entirely erased Seo Baekhan from his mind. He hadn’t looked up Baekhan’s name on the portal site in ages. Maybe it was because he had more pressing matters to deal with now. Naturally, thoughts of Baekhan faded.
Out of sight, out of mind. Even for someone he’d once admired, it turned out that saying applied. Fourteen-year-old Taehyun thought to himself.

“…Come to think of it, what is he up to these days?”
Since Taehyun didn’t ask, neither did his siblings bring up Baekhan anymore. It was strange—someone with such overwhelming presence, and yet once he stopped searching, Baekhan’s whereabouts became truly unknowable.
Seo. Baek. Han.

Typing that name into the search bar for the first time in a while felt oddly unfamiliar. But that was just Taehyun’s perception. The world around Seo Baekhan—news, blogs, fan pages—was still glowing bright as ever.
“Huh?”
What caught Taehyun’s eye wasn’t a news article, but the SNS linked to Baekhan’s profile. He’d always assumed Baekhan wouldn’t run a public account, not when he seemed like the type who wouldn’t tolerate a single misstep. So it was unexpected.

To view the photos, he had to log in—so he quickly switched to one of the private accounts his family used for lurking.
But to his disappointment, there wasn’t much on Baekhan’s feed. No selfies. Just a few snaps of a book he was reading, a photo of a friend’s dog, and one from a trip to Malibu.
And even those looked like they’d been taken on a whim, with no special care.

Which… felt very much like Seo Baekhan.
That was why Taehyun had liked every single post.
It was something like a thank-you—a small spark from a sensitive teenager, sent to the Alpha who had once lit a fire in his heart.

Whoa, our youngest, hehe. You gave Baekhan a like
But not me…
Our baby sure has a soft spot for Seo Baekhan~

…It turned out that unless you changed your privacy settings, people you followed could see when you were online—and the cursed algorithm would blast posts liked by your mutuals right to the top of your siblings’ feeds. Taehyun had no idea… until his second-eldest brother noticed and gleefully sent a DM.
Flustered, Taehyun sat up straight and hurriedly unliked every post, typing out a long-winded, groveling apology message to his brother.