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A man walked into the office with an air of uncertainty, his eyes darting around as if unsure where to go. He approached Shuhua's desk hesitantly, adjusting his jacket as he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, miss," he began, his voice polite but laced with urgency. "How do I talk to Mr. Park Sunghoon?"

"When is your appointment? Mr. Park is about to head into a meeting."

"Oh, no, I don't have an appointment. I just came here for a quick talk. He knows me."

Her expression tightened at his words, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "How did you enter the company without an appointment?" she asked, her tone sharp but professional.

"We... met at the police station. He knows me," the man repeated, his gaze earnest, as if trying to prove his sincerity.

But it was too late-Shuhua had already reached for the phone, dialing security as her sharp gaze flickered to the man. He, however, seemed unfazed, even as she muttered into the receiver.

Before Shuhua could finish, his eyes widened in recognition, and he abruptly pointed toward a passing figure. "Oh, look! His wife knows me."

Both women froze. Shuhua's confusion was written all over her face, her hand still hovering over the phone, while Iseul, caught mid-stride, whipped her head toward him with a look that could kill.

"Wife? What wife? You mean... Wi-Fi?" Iseul snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her flustered state.

Shuhua's brow furrowed as she glanced between them. "Wait, what's going on? Wife? Mr. Park's wife?"

"No!" Iseul barked, nearly shouting as she waved her hands like a referee calling a foul. "He's delusional. Please ignore him, Shuhua."

The commotion in the office stilled as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Sunghoon's imposing figure stepped into view, his expression cold and unreadable. His sharp eyes swept across the scene, lingering on the man, then Iseul, before narrowing slightly in disapproval.

The man brightened at the sight of him. "Sir, you remember me, right?"

Sunghoon exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if battling an oncoming headache. "Shuhua, cancel the security call," he said, his voice curt yet controlled. "And you," his gaze turned to the man, "to my office. Now."

The man nodded eagerly, practically jogging to follow Sunghoon, as if oblivious to the tension in the room.

Iseul took a cautious step back, intent on escaping the aftermath of whatever disaster this man had caused. But before she could fully retreat, Sunghoon's sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.

"You too, Miss Iseul."

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slowly, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Me? What do I have to do with this?"

His gaze was unyielding, leaving no room for negotiation. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Inside the office, Sunghoon's irritation radiated like a thundercloud. He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if seeking divine patience. Meanwhile, Iseul perched on the desk corner, arms crossed.

"Did Shuhua catch on to anything?" Sunghoon asked, his tone clipped.

"Not a thing," Iseul replied smoothly. "I handled it."

"Anyone else?"

"All clear, sir," she said mockingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Sunghoon shot her a sideways glance, unimpressed. "Why didn't security stop this idiot earlier?"

The man sitting across from them shifted uncomfortably before blurting out, "Hey! I'm still here, you know!"

In perfect unison, both Sunghoon and Iseul turned their steely glares toward him and snapped, "Shut up."

The man raised his hands defensively, but then his expression shifted as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. He straightened up, pointing dramatically at them. "Wait a second-I got it! You two are hiding the fact that you're exes, aren't you? "

Sunghoon's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening dangerously. His voice dropped into a cold whisper. "Keep your voice down, or everyone outside will hear."

The man gulped, sinking lower in his chair. "Okay, okay! No need to glare like that. But honestly, you've got that whole 'love-hate' thing going on-it's so obvious."

Iseul turned to him, her eyes blazing. "If you don't shut your mouth right now, I will personally throw you out that window."

Sunghoon groaned, rubbing his temples as if physically trying to push the chaos out of his mind. His patience was paper-thin, but he motioned for Soobin to sit anyway. The man flopped into the chair like a rag doll, his jittery hands clutching the armrests as he began speaking in rushed, uneven sentences.

"Sir, I need your help. I've fallen in love-with the most incredible woman. She's from Busan, but her family..." His voice broke, trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation. "Her family doesn't think I'm good enough."

Sunghoon's brows furrowed slightly, the smallest sign of interest breaking through his otherwise impassive expression. He glanced toward Iseul, who leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her face a picture of disbelief. She didn't bother hiding her irritation, the sharp curve of her lips suggesting she'd already judged this man a fool.

Oblivious to her disdain, Soobin pressed on. "They don't understand! I'm building something amazing. My app-it's going to revolutionize everything. I just need time. Like you!" He leaned forward, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he gestured toward Sunghoon. "You started from nothing and built an empire. You're living proof that dreams can come true!"

Sunghoon exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening. He didn't like being put on a pedestal, especially by someone so... erratic. Still, he turned to Iseul, silently inviting her opinion.

Her response came swiftly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "They're right."

The air shifted.

Soobin blinked, his mouth parting slightly as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "What?"

"They're right not to give you their daughter."

"That's a shitty point of view."

Iseul pushed off the wall, taking a step forward, her gaze darkening. "What's shitty is that I still what you said to me."

Soobin straightened in his chair, his indignation giving way to a defensive scoff. "And I still remember the pain from your blow."

Sunghoon's hand came down on the desk with a sharp thud, silencing them both. His voice was calm but commanding, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. "Enough."

"Soobin, what do you want from me? Be clear, and make it quick."

"Hyung, I want you to help me propose to that girl."

Both Iseul's and Sunghoon's brows furrowed in unison, a rare moment of synchronicity between them.

"Hyung?" Sunghoon echoed flatly, his voice carrying the weight of both skepticism and disdain.

"I have no family. I lost them early. Only you can help me."

Sunghoon's expression didn't change, but the room seemed to grow colder as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded.

"I need them to see how alike we are-how you made it, how rich you've become. Then they'll believe I can do it too," Soobin pressed on, his voice cracking under the strain of desperation. "They'll give me the girl."

A sharp scoff escaped Iseul, her arms crossed as she fixed Soobin with a pointed glare. "That's your plan? Dragging Sunghoon into your circus act because you think his success is transferable?"

Soobin ignored her completely, his gaze never leaving Sunghoon's face. Then, in a quieter, more menacing tone, he added, "If you can't help me, I'll tell everyone about your marriage."

The tension in the room shifted sharply. Sunghoon's fingers drummed lightly on the desk, his jaw tightening as he stared down the man in front of him.

"You think threatening me is smart?" Sunghoon's voice was calm, deliberate, but there was an unmistakable edge to it-a warning that even Soobin couldn't ignore.

Soobin hesitated, visibly shrinking under the weight of Sunghoon's glare. "Sunghoon, I didn't mean it like that," he stammered. "I just... I don't have anyone else to turn to. Please."

Iseul rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't stay that way. "This guy's got some nerve," she muttered, loud enough for both men to hear.

Sunghoon didn't take his eyes off Soobin, the man's desperation plain as day. Finally, with a long, measured sigh, Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softer than before.

"Fine," he muttered, the word heavy with resignation. "I'll help you."

Iseul's head snapped toward him, her disbelief palpable. "You're kidding, right?"

Sunghoon ignored her, turning his attention back to Soobin. "But here's the deal-you do this my way. No more blackmail, no idiotic stunts. If this blows up, you're on your own."

Relief washed over Soobin's face, and he nodded eagerly. "Thank you, hyung. You won't regret this."

The car hummed with a tension that felt alive, vibrating in the silence. Outside, the streets melted into a hazy blend of lights and shadows, but inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was suffocating.

Iseul broke the silence first, her voice slicing through the stillness like a razor. "Why am I even here? This is your little favor, not mine. My time is being wasted."

Sunghoon kept his gaze fixed on the road, his tone dry and sharp, like the edge of a blade. "As if I begged you to come."

Iseul's eyes narrowed, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest as she shot him a glare that could burn through steel. But before she could retort, Soobin exhaled loudly from the backseat, the sound exaggerated enough to turn heads.

"Can you two not?" Soobin said, dragging out his words with a mix of mockery and genuine frustration. "You're supposed to act like the couple from that feature in Modern Times. Sweet, affectionate, disgustingly perfect."

"Modern Times?" Iseul turned her head sharply, incredulous. "You want us to play house in front of your 'girl's' family? That's your big plan?"

"Exactly," Soobin said with a grin, undeterred by her tone. "You two nailed it in the magazine shoot. Just do it again. Be picture-perfect."

The car was silent for a moment, save for the sound of tires against asphalt. The tension shifted, uncomfortable but somehow softened by the absurdity of Soobin's request.

Sunghoon, still gripping the wheel, shot Soobin a quick look in the rearview mirror. "And where exactly are we going for this performance?" he asked, his irritation tempered by a faint, reluctant curiosity.

Soobin glanced at his phone, his confidence wavering for a second. "A small town in Gurye," he said, his voice quieter, almost like the location was a secret too precious to say aloud.

Iseul blinked, processing the name, then leaned back, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance coloring her expression. "Gurye?" she repeated, her tone biting. "How did someone like you even meet a girl from there?"

Soobin's grin faltered, but before he could answer, Sunghoon interjected, his voice smooth and dismissive. "We went to the same university. Not that it's any of your business."

Iseul raised a brow, sensing the layers beneath his nonchalant answer but deciding to let it slide-for now.

The car veered onto a quieter, winding road as the city lights receded into the distance. Silence returned, but this time it was less suffocating, more contemplative.

Sunghoon tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. "It's all your fault iseul, If we hadn't gone to the station because you decided to knock someone out, we wouldn't even be here," he muttered, throwing a side glance at Iseul.

Iseul huffed, her arms crossing tighter as she turned away from him. "Even if the Earth reversed its spin, you'd still find a way to blame me."

Before Sunghoon could even get a word in, Soobin leaned forward from the back seat, cutting off their playful bickering.

"Hate to break your cute little argument," he interjected with a grin, "but we've arrived. Just pull to the left."

Sunghoon shot Soobin a quick glare in the rearview mirror but followed the instructions, turning the wheel smoothly as he parked the car.

The air inside the house was thick-not with warmth or tension, but with an unbearable quiet that pressed down on Iseul like a heavy quilt. She hated quiet. It was unnatural, like holding your breath for too long.

The faint clink of porcelain cups and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards were the only sounds that dared to intrude. Iseul sat stiffly, her fingers gripping her teacup as if it were a lifeline. The others mirrored her posture, their gazes fixed on the steaming liquid in their hands, as though it held the secrets of how to fill this uncomfortable silence.

Unable to bear it any longer, Iseul blurted out the first thing that came to mind, her voice startlingly loud in the stillness. "The weather is hot, isn't it?"

Every head turned toward her, nodding in unison like a chorus of marionettes. "Yes," someone murmured politely, and then the quiet came crashing back, heavier than before.

Iseul pursed her lips, suppressing the urge to groan. She glanced at Sunghoon, who was seated beside her, his expression unreadable as he took another slow sip of tea. Was he enjoying this? She couldn't tell, and that irritated her even more.

Soobin, who had been fidgeting nervously, finally broke the silence with a sheepish chuckle. "Now that everyone agrees about the weather," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "let's, uh, do what we came for."

Sunghoon, who had been zoning out while staring blankly at the floral wallpaper, snapped back to reality. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, his tone formal but lacking its usual warmth. "Miss," he addressed Yena's mother directly, "Soobin and Yena met each other, fell in love, and-"

But Yena's mother didn't let him finish. Her sharp voice cut through his words like a knife. "I know where this conversation is going," she said, her tone cold and unforgiving. "Why would I give you my beauty, to Soobin?"

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Sunghoon turned to her, his expression unreadable. "He doesn't have money," Sunghoon admitted bluntly, his gaze steady. "No job either. But he has love."

That statement, simple as it was, sent a ripple through the room. Yena's older brother, a towering figure with an intimidating presence, leaned forward, his voice low and firm. "My sister is a princess. She won't be miserable in her husband's home."

Iseul, who had been sitting quietly until now, felt a twinge of agreement with the brother's words. But she swallowed her pride, straightened her back, and forced a calm smile. "As you can see," she began, her voice steady and measured, "my husband and I went through our share of bad days too. I worked two, sometimes three jobs. And now, he's successful and thriving. So am I."

The room went still as her words lingered in the air. Sunghoon slowly turned to her, his expression unreadable at first, but then his lips curled into a sardonic smile.

"Supportive?" he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Iseul was so supportive during our marriage."

Iseul shot him a glare that could cut steel, and he returned it with equal intensity. Their hands, resting on the table, suddenly locked together-not in affection, but in a battle of wills. Their grip was tight, their knuckles white, as they glared at each other with a force that made the others exchange uneasy glances.

Yena's mother, clearly charmed but curious, leaned forward with a teasing smile. "So," she began, her voice light but probing, "how did you two fall in love with each other?"

Iseul, always quick on her feet, answered as if it were a matter of fact. "We've known each other since childhood. We were born on the same street."

Sunghoon nodded, a small, genuine smile curving his lips.

But Yena's mother wasn't satisfied with such a simple answer. She shook her head, her eyes twinkling. "I didn't ask how you met," she clarified. "I asked how you knew you were each other's soulmates."

The question seemed to land like a gentle but unexpected blow. Iseul opened her mouth, but no words came. She felt something stir within her, an unnameable feeling she couldn't quite place. Her gaze shifted to Sunghoon, who was staring at her, his lips faintly upturned in a way that made her heart tighten.

Sunghoon, for once, didn't hesitate. "And how could I ever forget the moment she entered my heart?" he said softly, his voice low but steady, carrying a weight that made everyone lean in just a little closer.

He glanced away briefly, his eyes distant as if he were stepping back in time. "It was when my father left," he began. "I was just a kid. I didn't know how to handle it-felt like the world was crumbling around me. I stopped talking to anyone, stopped going out... just stayed in this dark little corner of my mind."

The room fell quiet, hanging on his every word.

"And then," Sunghoon continued, his tone softening, "there she was. Iseul. She didn't say much, didn't try to cheer me up with empty words. She just grabbed my hand one day and took me to the river near our houses. We sat there, playing with the water. She let me be quiet, let me feel what I needed to feel, but somehow, she made the pain bearable."

He glanced at Iseul again, and his voice grew quieter. "For the first time in weeks, I forgot about the pain. She made me feel like I wasn't alone. Like maybe everything would be okay someday."

Sunghoon's hand unconsciously found Iseul's on the table, and the contact jolted him back to the present. He looked down at their joined hands, almost startled, before gently caressing her fingers, his touch light but lingering.

Iseul's breath hitched, the warmth of his hand sparking memories she had long buried. She wanted to pull her hand away, to guard her emotions, but she couldn't.

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roadtrip chps are the equivalent of beach episodes in anime