Contract Relationship?
“Woojin, the weather’s nice today. Would you like to grab a can of beer in front of my place?”
There was no reason to refuse. No—rather, a spark of curiosity to know her a little better was what moved Woojin to accept.
The two settled under the parasol at the convenience store in front of the apartment complex. The crisp sound of cold beer cans cracking open sliced through the night air.
“But Woojin, can I ask you something I’ve been curious about?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“How old are you?”
Woojin swallowed a mouthful of beer and answered indifferently. “Twenty-five.”
The moment he spoke, Ihwa’s eyes curved in a strange, subtle way. The smile playing on her lips carried a mischievous glint that bordered on sly. Woojin instinctively felt the urge to step back and hunched his shoulders slightly.
“W-why are you looking at me like that… It’s scary.”
Ihwa tapped her beer can with a fingertip and asked in return, “Then how old do I look to you?”
Woojin knew exactly how dangerous the question was. He studied her face with care—her refined aura, her mature presence. After serious deliberation, he opened his mouth.
“Thirty…?”
In an instant, an indescribable murderous intent flared in Ihwa’s eyes. Feeling goosebumps race down his spine, Woojin reversed his words like lightning.
“Thirty minus six…?”
“Pfft!”
Ihwa burst out laughing, unable to hold it in, and gave Woojin’s arm a light slap. “Do I really look that old? I’m two years older than you. Call me Noona. Noona.”
“Ah… so you’re twenty-seven.”
When Ihwa playfully lifted her beer can, Woojin clinked his against it in a daze. A clear, bright ring echoed between them.
One sip, then another. As the alcohol gently warmed their blood, a brief silence settled over them. Woojin rested his chin on his hand, gazing into Ihwa’s eyes as they watched him, and finally voiced the question he had buried in his heart.
“Can I ask you something I’m curious about, too?”
“What is it? Go on.”
“Why do you hate other people’s attention so much? Some people spend their whole lives trying to earn even a scrap of it.”
For a moment, Ihwa’s pupils trembled. A silence colder than the night air stretched between them. She finished the rest of her beer in one swift gulp, set the empty can on the table, and only then spoke.
“Everyone has wounds they’d rather erase, don’t they? To me, other people’s interest is nothing but a wound.”
Her voice was calm, yet it carried layer upon layer of accumulated loneliness. Woojin sensed that the terror she associated with the word “attention” ran far deeper than mere sensitivity. His instincts warned him that it was still too soon to step any further into that darkness.
He asked no more. Instead, he quietly set his own empty can down beside her hand as she toyed with hers.
“Well, whatever the reason, I hope my interest isn’t a wound to you. We’re colleagues, after all.”
Rather than answer, Ihwa offered another small smile. This one felt a fraction warmer—and a fraction more lonely—than before. Woojin’s casual words left her silently fiddling with the empty can. Normally she would have bristled and accused him of being nosy, but tonight the warmth of his presence mingling with the night air didn’t feel unpleasant.
“Let’s head in. We have work tomorrow.”
Woojin rose first. Ihwa followed, but stopped once they reached the bus stop.
“Woojin.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for today.”
Ihwa gave the faintest smile, then turned and walked away. Woojin watched her go for a moment before looking away. A strange tickle lingered in one corner of his chest.
So Seo Ihwa can smile, too.
With that thought, he headed home.
Kim Woojin, please come up to the rooftop for a moment.
Woojin tilted his head. They had grown fairly close since sharing those beers, yet this was the first time she had summoned him during work hours. When he opened the rooftop door, he saw Ihwa leaning against the railing, letting the wind play with her hair. Her profile as she gazed into the distance was a scene straight out of a photoshoot.
Woojin swallowed once and approached her.
“What’s going on? Calling me all the way up to the rooftop.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
Ihwa turned to face him. There was no trace of playfulness—only a brutally dry, businesslike stare. Tension coiled in Woojin’s chest as he asked, “What kind of favor?”
“Have a contract relationship with me.”
For a second, Woojin doubted his own ears. He stood there dazed, wondering if he had misheard, until Ihwa continued in the same detached tone.
“You’ve seen how it is just by being near me. The employees won’t stop hounding me—it’s driving me insane. I’d rather die than deal with it. I want you to be my shield, Woojin.”
It was absurd. No matter how much she hated attention, suggesting they turn dating into a contract was beyond anything Woojin’s common sense could accept. More than that, to Woojin—who had begun to genuinely care for her as a colleague—the proposal felt like an insult.
“I refuse.”
At his firm rejection, Ihwa faltered for a brief moment. Then she bit her lip, as if she had anticipated it, and played her next card.
“I’ll pay you. More than your annual salary.”
At those words, something inside Woojin’s chest sank with a heavy thud. Offering money to buy the proposal sounded like she was trying to purchase his sincerity—his pride—at a bargain price. Had he seemed like a beggar to her? Or just someone so cheap that money could solve everything? Until now, he had thought that even if she was thorny on the outside, Seo Ihwa was transparent within. A wave of bitter disappointment crashed over him.
“I refuse even more. I’ve only just become a full-time employee. What money could I possibly—”
“Don’t worry about the money. I’ll really give it to you.”
“Seo Ihwa, I’m disappointed. I didn’t know you were this kind of person. I don’t sell my pride for money. From now on, let’s pretend we don’t know each other at the company.”
Woojin spat the cold words and turned to leave the rooftop. His heart hammered. The disappointment and strange sense of betrayal he felt toward her outweighed any relief at having protected his pride.
...
On the way home, his mind was a tangled mess. Ihwa’s face and her proposal kept circling through his thoughts. Then a shrill ringtone shattered his reverie. The caller was Seongdae Hospital.
“Are you the guardian of Seo Yeongsu? She collapsed and is currently in the emergency room. Please come to the hospital immediately.”
The world felt like it was crumbling. He raced to the hospital in a panic. The sight of his mother’s pale face on the emergency bed nearly brought tears flooding out.
The test results were devastating. A hip fracture. It seemed she had fallen on her way home from work. The doctor said surgery offered a good chance of survival, so Woojin signed the consent form with trembling hands. Then he went to the counter to ask about the cost.
“The surgery will be 7.2 million won for now.”
7.2 million won. Woojin’s hands shook violently as he handed over his card. Only about 4.5 million won remained in his account. The coming hospitalization fees, medication, living expenses… The more he calculated, the harder it became to breathe.
He had only just become a full-time employee and wanted to finally show his mother some proper care. He didn’t resent her—not at all. But the cruel reality mocked his diligence and drove him straight to the edge of a cliff.
While staring at his nearly empty bank balance, Ihwa’s words from the rooftop echoed in his mind.
“I’ll pay you. More than your annual salary.”
Pride? It was a luxury he could no longer afford with less than five million won to his name. If it meant saving his mother, he could throw his pride away as many times as necessary.
Woojin clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
The next morning, as if in a trance, Woojin returned to the rooftop. When he opened the door, Ihwa was already leaning against the railing, as though she had known he would come back. A strange smile bloomed on her lips the moment she saw him.
With his fists still tightly clenched, Woojin spoke in a hoarse voice.
“Is that contract still valid?”
“Why? Didn’t you say you don’t sell your pride for money?”
Ihwa’s tone dripped with mockery. Shame burned across Woojin’s face, but he couldn’t look away.
“The situation… has changed.”
Ihwa approached him slowly, wearing an odd smile. The cold fragrance that clung to her pierced deep into his lungs.
“Fine. Let’s make the contract. The terms are simple. At the company, in front of others, act like we’re dating—just enough to be noticeable without being obvious. That we’re going out.”
Her fingers brushed lightly across the back of Woojin’s hand as she passed. The cold touch made his body flinch.
“And when it’s just the two of us, I’ll speak casually. I’m your Noona, after all. You keep using polite speech.”
Having said her piece, Ihwa left the rooftop without a backward glance. Woojin remained alone in the empty space. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. Shame? Humiliation? No, it wasn’t that simple. A terribly subtle emotion—relief at being able to save his mother tangled with the sting of having sold his pride—swirled inside him.
He slowly stroked his employee ID card. From now on, it marked not only Kim Woojin, employee of Daehyeop, but also Kim Woojin, Seo Ihwa’s contract boyfriend.
The sky hung heavy with clouds, and Woojin’s colorless daily life stepped forward into a bizarre play stained by money and lies.
-
On the first evening commute after the contract was sealed, Woojin packed his bag as usual and left the lobby. Everything felt the same—the air, the scenery—as he headed toward the bus stop. That was when a warm, soft touch suddenly seized his right hand.
Startled, he turned. There stood Ihwa, her usual cool expression completely gone, replaced by a bright, radiant smile.
“S-Seo, Ms. Seo?”