New Normal - Chapter 73

—“He insisted you go. If I repeat his words exactly: ‘even a dog welcomes its master, so you’d better be at the airport to greet your brother. If you’re not there, he’ll freeze your cards. So make sure you go, you rotten brat.’”

Of course. His grandfather never stopped keeping tabs on him. This was less of a request and more like punishment—an order to pay for his screw-ups, carried out through his older brother.

“Fvck… the airport…”

Jungwon shot up from his seat without a second thought. The table rattled, and a few ice cubes jumped out of the bucket.

“Hey, I gotta go.”

The girls blinked in confusion, reaching for him, but Jungwon was already scrambling out, clutching his shoes and phone in both hands.

“If he finds out I took the car too… sh1t. I’m really dead.”

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, muttering nervously. Just the thought of having borrowed his brother’s beloved McLaren made his head spin.

Their grandfather, Chae Heejung, had made a name for himself with his fists when he was younger, and his brother took after him more than anyone. Even after quitting the underworld, his grandfather still carried that gangster air about him, and so he’d raised both Juwon and Jungwon to be tough, physically and mentally.

Especially Juwon. He had trained in kickboxing and jiu-jitsu; his shins were harder than steel rods. If that man ever landed a low kick on his ass…

“Fvck.”

Just imagining the pain made Jungwon’s vision blur. Ignoring the phone buzzing nonstop in his hand, he shoved through the drunken crowd under the flashing lights and bolted.

The moment he pushed open the club doors, the icy dawn air slapped him hard across the face. His mind snapped clear. He waved frantically at the valet, panting like a madman.

“Sh1t, sh1t, sh1t. How could I forget? Fucking idiot. No—wait. I need a driver. Almost screwed myself even worse.”

The image of his brother’s clenched jaw and grinding teeth flashed in his head. He quickly called for a chauffeur while waiting for his car.

By the time he had one shoe on and the other in his hand, both the car and the driver pulled up. The guy must’ve been waiting nearby, it hadn’t even taken a minute.

Jungwon barely had time to fix his clothes before he flung himself into the passenger seat.

“Incheon Airport. Fast as possible. Please!”

Breath ragged, eyes bloodshot, he stared out the window. The lingering afterglow of the club’s lights shimmered faintly against the dawn sky.

—”Jungwon. Sneak into Korea one more time, and I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

Even the memory of his brother’s warning voice made him shiver.

***

Incheon International Airport, Terminal 1.

The sky was brightening, sunlight pouring through the tall windows. The lobby was quiet, bathed in a strange hush and pale fluorescent light. The sound of rolling suitcases, the hiss of a coffee machine—mundane noises echoed through the wide space as Jungwon ran in, breathless.

Fifteen minutes late.

He had floored it from Cheongdam to Incheon in just forty minutes, practically begging for a speeding ticket. At least he’d made it.

The only problem was the stench of alcohol still rolling off him.

He had dozed off in the car, stomach heavy from drinking, and hadn’t checked his appearance or prepared any excuse for why he was in Korea at the wrong time. Every gulp of air brought with it nausea, and he nearly threw up, but he forced himself to hold it back.

“Goddamn it… this airport is way too fucking big.”

He muttered curses nonstop as he ran so hard his calves cramped. To make matters worse, the driver had gone to Terminal 2 by mistake, so Jungwon had to sprint even farther after telling him to park the car.

By the time he reached the arrival gate, his shirt buttons were undone and his hair a mess. He quickly straightened himself, re-buttoned his shirt, and shoved a hand into his pocket like nothing was wrong.

“Christ. Life is so fucking hard…”

His chest heaved as he fought for air. Sweat mixed with the stench of alcohol made his head spin. And then he yawned.

He instinctively covered his mouth and froze. The club wristband was still on his arm. Wide-eyed, he ripped it off immediately.

He looked at the gate, then up at the arrival board, bouncing anxiously on his feet.

Don’t tell me… he’s already out.

The quiet gate suddenly burst with a wave of passengers. Thank god—the flight was delayed. It was the plane from New York.

Jungwon clicked his tongue as tired-looking travelers streamed out. It was still vacation season, so even this early flight was packed.

Then, among the crowd, one tall figure strode out, posture straight like a soldier saluting his general, eyes sharp.

His brother.

Chae Juwon, seven years older. He looked similar to Jungwon, but taller, broader, more muscular. His skin was tanned, and his eyes were a striking amber-brown that made him instantly recognizable.

“Hyung!”

Jungwon waved high, trying to hide the panic in his face.

Juwon, glancing up from his phone, scanned the crowd. The moment his gaze landed on Jungwon, his eyes turned cold.

He slipped his phone into his pocket, mouth twisting into a crooked smile. Jungwon, forcing a grin, waved harder.

…Sh1t. He really didn’t know I was here.

Dread sank into his gut.

Juwon didn’t look tired from the long flight at all. His white shirt and jacket were spotless, slacks perfectly pressed. Even pushing a cart piled with luggage, his stride was firm, commanding.

He walked straight toward Jungwon, never breaking eye contact with his awkwardly smiling younger brother.

“Well, well… Chae Jungwon.”

The smile on his lips looked warm, his voice gentle.

But Jungwon knew better. Whenever that dimple appeared on Juwon’s right cheek, it meant he was hiding his true feelings. It wasn’t like Jungwon’s easy dimples. Juwon’s had been carved there by a scar—back when he’d fought a mastiff as a kid.

“Hyung… long time. How was your trip? You look a little tired—”

Juwon’s gaze swept him up and down, sharp and unblinking. His expression only soured further. Jungwon’s spine tingled cold.

“Tired? Sure. Same as always. But tell me, shouldn’t you be in England right now, finishing your graduation project? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Haha… well, I start my museum internship next month, so I just figured I’d—”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how long has it been since I last saw you?” Juwon cut him off with a smile. It sounded like small talk, but the sarcasm was clear.

“Uh, what, two months? A month? Haha, well actually—”

He didn’t finish. Juwon pulled him into a hug. Jungwon froze as his brother’s hand patted his back, casual, affectionate. And terrifying.

“Jungwon.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“You’ve been using again, haven’t you?”

Jungwon’s body stiffened. Hugging him close, Juwon sniffed subtly, then leaned back. His eyes glinted with menace.

“…Let’s talk on the way.”

His smile was warm. His voice, soft.

But to Jungwon, it was nothing short of a death sentence.

***

The dining room, noon.

Sunlight poured through the tall windows. On the table was an elaborate Korean spread, with boiled meat platter as the main dish. It was almost overwhelming, but Grandma Geumsan seemed more excited than their grandfather, Chae Heejung. She bustled around, piling meat and side dishes onto the men’s plates.

Jungwon glanced at her retreating figure, then looked down at the tender brisket and tendon neatly placed in his dish. His brow furrowed.

Just looking at it made him queasy.

Whether it was the hangover still pounding in his head, or the scolding he’d endured from his brother on the drive over, his skull throbbed. He sighed and quietly lifted his chopsticks.

That’s when his grandfather finally spoke.

“So, what was it this time? Which drug?”