Dirty Switch

‘W-What? Jealous? Me? Seo Baekhan, are you insane?’
Kim Seungjun, who seemed to be overheating, shot up from his seat, only to shrink back and sit down again under Seo Baekhan’s frostbitten stare.
‘I-I mean, why would I be… j-jealous of Joo Taehyun…?’

Seo Baekhan quickly swept his gaze over the press line, which had begun to stir the moment he stood up. The major media outlets were too busy schmoozing with celebrities to care about some childish squabble, but the smaller news companies clinging to the fringes of the banquet hall were a different matter.
They were already desperate to scavenge something—anything—so there was no need to hand them more bait. On the contrary, those types often added needless commentary to inflate traffic or, worse, demanded absurd deals in exchange for burying a scoop. That made them far trickier to deal with.
So it would be best not to escalate the situation here.

‘Really? It’d honestly be better to say you spouted nonsense out of jealousy over Joo Taehyun.’
Seo Baekhan accepted the glass of port offered by the server and tilted his head slightly.
‘A son of some small startup CEO, who doesn’t even have a proper title yet, insulting the Prince of Conciliation’s secondary gender traits at a scholarship event… dragging in the youngest son of the DH Group and saying taxpayers' money is being wasted... wouldn’t you say my version sounds a whole lot better?’

‘I-I didn’t… No, I didn’t mean it like that… I was just talking casually, since we’re among ourselves…’
‘Sure. You casually ran your mouth, said you were invited personally by His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. If someone like you, claiming to be close to him, runs around slandering Yeonhwagung and the DH Group while dragging in secondary gender traits at every turn—Kim Seungjun. How do you think people here will interpret that?’
Unlike when he had been gloating about Joo Taehyun earlier, Kim Seungjun now had his shoulders hunched and his brows sagging pitifully. Was he actually about to cry? He couldn’t even handle this level of pressure—why the hell did the Prince drag in someone like this?

The Prince had a habit of impulsively screwing up, especially when it came to people reeking of inferiority toward those with secondary gender traits. Maybe he was looking for someone who’d tell him what he wanted to hear again. But Kim Seungjun was such a ludicrous piece of trash, it made things even harder to brush off lightly.
‘Baekhan. This might be his first time at an event like this, so maybe he got carried away. Probably just wanted attention and said some dumb things. Let’s drop it now. You too, Kim Seungjun—apologize.’
The granddaughter of the Minister of Culture, who’d stayed silent until now, finally stepped in to mediate. Since it was still unclear whether her family leaned toward the Prince or the Prince of Conciliation, Seo Baekhan decided not to escalate any further.

He simply cast a steady gaze toward the press line. It was a warning—keep running your mouth, and you’ll end up in an article linked to the Crown Prince. Kim Seungjun and his hangers-on didn’t seem to notice a thing, but others gave Seo Baekhan small nods. Got it—they’d shut Seungjun up even after Baekhan left.
‘Um, Seo Baekhan. I’m… sorry, I just…’
Ignoring Seungjun’s feeble attempts to speak to him, Seo Baekhan calmly finished tidying the table of drinks at the head table.

‘Jin Soyeon was right, I—I just got carried away, Baekhan, hey, Baekhan! Just wait a sec!’
As Seo Baekhan walked away from the table, a few people slapped their foreheads in dismay. Thanks to Kim Seungjun finally breaking down and bawling, reporters who caught the scent were starting to swarm. The ones awkwardly exchanging glances nearby were definitely Prince-aligned lackeys… and someone Baekhan hadn’t expected to be affiliated bit down on their lip hard.
That made him feel just a little better. At least he got something useful out of this cesspool of trash.
‘Hey, Seo Baekhan! Wait up!’

‘Shut up.’
Pouring all his desire to get away from this place into each press of the elevator button, Seo Baekhan stabbed at it repeatedly. Choi Yeonjun, trailing after him with his shoulders drawn in, nervously scanned their surroundings.
‘Hey. Was that because Kim Seungjun messed with Joo Taehyun?’

That name sure came up a lot today. Clicking his tongue softly, Seo Baekhan stared only at the dashboard.
‘Wait… don’t tell me, Seo Baekhan, are you into that little kid who’s still wet behind the ears?’ Choi Yeonjun was ready to tease him, but when Baekhan didn’t respond, he awkwardly patted his well-groomed hair instead.
‘Well, I was bored of just sitting around anyway, so this works out for me. But hey, doesn’t it kinda seem like Kim Seungjun likes you too?’

‘Quit the disgusting talk already.’
‘What? It does look like he’s throwing a tantrum because he’s jealous of Taehyun.’
‘And how the hell does him being jealous of Joo Taehyun translate into him liking me?’

‘After Taehyun joined Haechi, the two of you got tied together non-stop. Both Alphas, both from high-status families, both big donors… It’s exactly the kind of setup that sets off someone like Kim Seungjun. Honestly, you're usually sharp—how do you not get this?’
‘Because I don’t want to. Maybe you should pick up on social cues for once? Why the hell do you keep bringing up that bastard in front of me right now?’
What Yeonjun pointed out, Baekhan couldn’t deny. He didn’t believe the size or legacy of a company determined someone’s worth. But for Seungjun to bash Taehyun by throwing around words like family and honor—those stinking, outdated concepts—it probably stemmed from his own inferiority complex tied to those exact things.

‘Anyway, thanks to your outburst, the rumors are gonna spread like wildfire again.’
When Baekhan didn’t respond, Yeonjun couldn’t resist fiddling with his phone. Some annoyingly trendy short-form video music began playing.
‘You usually do your high-class, smug sarcasm thing, right? Everyone knows you’re twisted like a pretzel—so why’d you blow up out of nowhere just now? Oh? Seo Baekhan. Isn’t this Joo Taehyun?’

Yeonjun shoved the phone in his face like he found treasure. Baekhan furrowed his brow and leaned away as the phone screen was shoved too close to even see clearly.
‘Damn. Algorithms are terrifying. Just mention Taehyun and it starts serving up news about him.’
‘Is this Taehyun’s account?’

‘Nah. Looks like a mash-up of photos posted on some community site? Might’ve even been leaked by the DH PR team.’
Baekhan started waving it away, uninterested—but then his gaze froze, locked onto the face filling the screen.
Something’s off.

It is Joo Taehyun.
But… was Joo Taehyun ever this cold?
‘Wow, he was such a baby when we first met. Look at him now—all grown up.’

‘Choi Yeonjun.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Did Joo Taehyun’s face… always look like that?’

‘Well… I guess he doesn’t photograph as well as in person.’
‘No, that’s not what I meant.’
How was he supposed to explain this? Covering his mouth with one hand, Seo Baekhan stared at the face—familiar, yet foreign.

The video was just a crude compilation of Joo Taehyun’s photos, low quality and blurry. It didn’t seem like anything an official PR team would’ve produced. Even so, his eyes in every shot were piercing. If a stranger saw it, they’d probably say, that guy looks like he’s got a temper.
‘…Hmm. I guess he feels different than how I remembered.’
‘Yeah? I mean, people used to say he was more pretty than handsome… Whoa! Hey, that watch! That’s ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the one I told you about!’

It wasn’t about analyzing Joo Taehyun’s appearance.
They hadn’t exactly spent quality time together, but their paths crossed often. Every time, Baekhan had been surprised by how quickly the kid was growing, like bamboo. He was getting tall, yet still looked soft and unripe, which made him wonder if the boy was just naturally delicate rather than shy.
But the Joo Taehyun on Yeonjun’s screen wasn’t that melancholic little kid Baekhan thought he knew.

‘To buy that model now, you'd need to shell out the price of an apartment in Seoul. Fuck, money really is everything. Who needs bloodlines or pedigree or whatever.’
Maybe the shot was taken as he brushed back his bangs—his brow arched sharply, and his gaze was razor-sharp.
That was it. His outfit, his posture—none of it was drastically different from usual. He just had a face Seo Baekhan had never seen before.

And in this moment—more than when Joo Taehyun had confessed his feelings—Seo Baekhan felt he truly understood him for the first time.
Because he had never realized until now that Joo Taehyun could look at the world with eyes like that.