Family

Yoon Jae-hee crossed the ocean to America and became Jay Jenkins.

"Would it be all right if Uncle became your dad?"

His new father, Henry Jenkins, had doted on Jay since his courtship with Jay's mother, and Jay threw himself into studying English with everything he had. He refused to be an obstacle to his mother's fresh start.

Thanks to his parents' efforts, Jay slowly opened the door to his heart that he had shut tight. And the family of three lived happily, no different from any other family.

"They say she died instantly in the crash."

"What are we going to do..."

"Remarry, I suppose?"

"And what about the boy?"

But when Jay's birth mother, Jeong Yeon-jae, died in a car accident, that brief happiness came to an end.

He was bound to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠family on paper, but not by blood. A black-haired, Asian boy who, to any observer, was clearly not a birth son — people whispered.

Will things really be okay like this?

More mature than his years, Jay felt the reality of his situation closing in on him like fear itself.

I already think of Henry as my father. But does Henry think of me the same way — even now that the woman who connected us is gone?

"Why don't you just send him back to Korea? He isn't even your real son."

"Mother, please don't say such things."

Late one night, Jay overheard Henry and his mother whispering like this.

Maybe he doesn't actually want to live with me.

The young Jay carried the memory of the family strife back in Korea — the fighting that had been his fault — heavy in his chest.

"Son, you doing okay?"

"...Yes."

He'd lost his mother, and there wasn't a single relative to call family in this foreign land. Convinced he'd been left entirely alone, Jay shut himself in his room.

But Henry Jenkins was not the kind of man to stand by and watch his son dig himself into a hole.

"Jay! JJ! Come here a minute!"

Was he about to be told to go back to Korea? Carrying that anxiety with him, Jay shuffled sheepishly toward the garage, where his father was repairing an old car.

"Give your old man a hand. Can you hold that for me?"

"This?"

"That's it. Do you know what this tool is called?"

Jay's mouth wouldn't open, but Henry didn't push. He simply waited for an answer.

"...I don't know."

"If you don't know, then you learn it from now on. Here, this one's called a wrench."

When the wrench landed in his hand, it didn't feel cold the way metal should. Perhaps because his father's fingers were wrapped around it too, it carried a faint warmth.

"Want to fit it in here and give it a turn?"

Jay clumsily tightened a bolt. Even so, Henry praised him for a job well done, shoring up the boy's confidence piece by piece.

Father and son went on sudden camping trips, watched sports games together, and every so often played catch in the yard.

Through it all, Henry never said a word like hang in there. He never brought up Jay's mother. He simply spent time beside him.

Before Jay realized it, the grief and depression that had been crushing him had faded to almost nothing.

And so Yoon Jay wanted to become a man like his father. If he ever had a child of his own someday, he wanted to be a rock-solid pillar of support — just like Henry Jenkins.

"Hyung. What do you think?"

"It's beautiful."

"We should've come when the flowers were in bloom..."

That chance had arrived far sooner than expected. Yoon Jay watched the back of Yoon Do-jun's head as his younger brother bounded ahead, bubbling with excitement.

A half-brother who had appeared out of nowhere — Jay hadn't been overcome with some immense affection, but he had no intention of keeping the boy at arm's length either.

Partly because ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they shared blood, and partly, perhaps, because of the guilt he felt about kids that age.

As an adult who already knew what loss meant, it weighed on him that his younger siblings, buried in their brutal schedules, had never gotten the chance to properly process their grief.

Maybe I'm just sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong.

Yoon Do-jun seemed reasonably fine, at least. According to Park Hyun-ah, he was naturally sunny and mentally resilient.

"Don't you get sick of coming here all the time?"

"Honestly, this is my first time at Gyeongbokgung Palace too."

"Really?"

"Living nearby doesn't mean you actually go, you know."

True enough. Yoon Jay let his eyes drink in the scenery of the beautiful old palace.

And whenever time allowed afterward, he spent it with Yoon Do-jun — the way his father Henry Jenkins once had with him.

"When Dad found out you and Do-hwa were going to be idols, didn't he try to stop you?"

"Oh, he fought it like crazy. I'd never seen Dad that angry before."

That was probably because of me.

Yoon Jay gazed out at a Han River bridge just beginning to light up along its edges. Its glow doubled in the river below, burning bright above and beneath — quite a magnificent sight.

"But after we debuted, he loved it."

"Yeah?"

"He hunted down every single one of our stages. And at the end, he said he'd be cheering for us from heaven..."

Yoon Do-jun's voice began to tremble. At last, he bowed his head deep.

"I miss Dad..."

With his face buried between his knees, Yoon Do-jun wept, and Jay patted his shoulder in silence.

After crying until there was nothing left, Yoon Do-jun shook himself and stood right back up. What Jay saw wasn't a forced smile but a genuine one — so the kid would probably be all right.

Now it's Yoon Do-hwa's turn.

Yoon Jay sprang to his feet in the training room at Wings Company in the middle of a conditioning session. A tiny gesture of encouragement on the back of her hand had brightened Yoon Do-hwa's face — for her, he'd need a different approach.

"Hey, Tae-yang."

"Hm?"

"What do high school ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠girls usually like?"

Choi Tae-yang's expression twisted. Should he dig that old Yoon Jay is actually garbage theory back out?

Reading that look, Yoon Jay furrowed his brow. What do you take me for?

"Don't get any weird ideas. It's for my sister."

"Ah. Right."

Good. Choi Tae-yang picked his dumbbell back up. Jung Seung-woo, diligently working out beside them, jumped in.

"Tteokbokki. Spicy rice cakes."

"Tteokbokki?"

"The violently spicy kind."

"Ugh."

Violently spicy... Yoon Jay groaned.

He'd shared meals with his bodyguard colleagues before, and once they discovered his weakness — he couldn't handle spicy food — they made a habit of hunting down the hottest dishes they could find.

"Let's do spicy stir-fried octopus for lunch tomorrow."

"Ooh, should we? What do you say, hyung-nim?"

"Can I quit this job?"

At the sight of Yoon Jay — who'd assumed he was flawless, yet turned out to have plenty of soft spots after all — Choi Tae-yang and Jung Seung-woo grinned.

"Is torturing yourselves a Korean national hobby or something?"

"Just keep eating with us, hyung-nim — your inner Korean DNA will wake right back up, I'm telling you."

"Forget it."

Doesn't taste like this get set in childhood? Shoving it at a man past thirty will only hurt his stomach.

Thinking of Yoon Do-hwa, who hadn't managed to eat properly even at their father's funeral, Yoon Jay frowned.

Watch her diet? What is there left to cut?

Before long, he dumped the business cards he'd hastily stuffed into his pocket across his desk and shuffled through them like a dealer sorting a deck. Let's see — was this the one he'd gotten from Yoon Do-hwa's manager?

"What are all these?"

"Whoa... hey, Seung-woo, aren't some of these big-name places?"

"Wow. Of course you'd have them, hyung-nim."

Choi Tae-yang and Jung Seung-woo marveled as they picked through the cards he'd fanned out across the desk one by one.

Jang Min-chan, the division-head-level manager in charge of the group Flava, picked up a call from an unknown number.

"Who's asking?"

"Ah! Hello, yes."

Jang Min-chan's posture turned respectful in an instant. Do-hwa's older half-brother had a quality that sucked the eyes toward him the moment you saw him — the kind of man who'd hand you his business card at a funeral hall, appearances forgotten.

With that presence and those looks, he'd blow up in no time.

Jang Min-chan had been regretting the silence — and then the man had shown up working as a bodyguard. That quick-thinking stunt covering the skirt had set the entire internet on fire overnight.

People's eyes for talent really were universal. And if a complete non-celebrity could generate this much buzz already...

"Are you calling because you're thinking positively about our offer, perhaps?"

So close, and yet. Jang Min-chan felt a flicker of disappointment, but his expression turned serious as Yoon Jay's voice continued.

We want her to rest too, believe me.

She was one of the group's most popular members; the schedule was packed, and with Do-hwa herself stubbornly insisting she was fine, there'd been nothing anyone could do. But lately, seeing how precarious she looked, even the agency staff were starting to feel the gravity of it.

"Hey, kids. Everyone here?"

"Huh? Manager, what's going on?"

"Do-hwa. Here, eat this."

Yoon Do-hwa absentmindedly accepted the bag Jang Min-chan thrust at her as he staged his surprise raid on the practice room. Piping hot, with an aroma so good it made her mouth water on its own.

"Tteokbokki makes you gain weight, though..."

"Consider today a cheat day."

"Am I really allowed?"

"Yep. There's plenty — everyone eat up together."

The kids managed their own diets hard enough; one day off couldn't hurt.

Then, spotting the note stuck to the takeout container, Yoon Do-hwa froze — and Jang Min-chan smiled to himself.

"Your older brother bought it for you."

"That really handsome oppa?"

"No way. Oh my god."

Her bandmates shrieked and fussed, but Yoon Do-hwa simply stared, dazed, at the message on the note.

A plain little sentence — and yet, somehow, it gave her strength. Meanwhile the members had settled onto the floor, laying the food out so everyone could dig in easily.

"Unnie, come eat with us. We'll gain the weight together."

"She's right."

"They say spicy food melts the stress away."

The members had all sensed Yoon Do-hwa's gloomy mood long before this.

Yoon Do-hwa sat down without a word and put a piece of tteokbokki in her mouth. It had been ages — but the spice hit exactly right.

"...It's spicy."

Her jaw, still shoveling rice cakes into her mouth, crumpled. She was fighting back tears with everything she had. And because the members clearly knew she was on the verge and pretended not to notice, the tears threatened to fall all the harder.

"Manager."

"Yeah?"

"Can I take a break for a while?"

"God, yes. Please, please do."

So that's why she'd texted asking him not to only hang out with Do-jun but with her too.

Yoon Jay headed to work with a faint smile playing at his lips.

"Oh, look who's here — Mr. Popular."

"Back already? You're glowing today, huh?"

"...What is going on here?"

The office atmosphere was strange. It felt half like teasing, half like genuine delight. Yoon Jay pushed through the crowd of coworkers clustered around a monitor and looked at the screen.

Why are they all digging through this stuff? someone had compiled the whole saga into one tidy post.

It contained everything — photos from the fansites, fancam clips, even screenshots of people's reactions. Remarkably thorough.

He'd grown so famous that at least one news outlet had run a dedicated feature titled "Fancam of the Wings Company Bodyguard."

What had caught his colleagues' attention was the very last part.

Back when he was attending firefighter training, he'd worked freelance bodyguard jobs to cover his living expenses. How on earth had someone dug up a photo of that? Yoon Jay let out a hollow laugh.

"When exactly were you guarding Emma Stewart?"

"Years ago, briefly. She wasn't all that famous then."

"Incredible. So you even know Hollywood stars? Fits you perfectly, doesn't it?"

His coworkers grinned and clapped him heartily on the back.

The mood at the company couldn't have been better. With Yoon Jay's face circulating through the online communities, the company's name had come to light right along with it, and apparently inquiries had been flooding in ever since.

"Having your face out there isn't always a good thing, though..."

"Fair point. Our CEO only started this firm because he got too much attention back in his Blue House days, remember?"

"He did?"

Yoon Jay turned his head to look at Park Chul-woo. The CEO was, admittedly, a clean-cut handsome man with bold, strong features himself.

"Am I a little handsome? Go on, admit it."

"Absolutely, sir. The handsomest!"

Park Chul-woo boomed with laughter, and Jung Seung-woo earnestly fawned along. The temperature gap between his flattery and Choi Tae-yang's scowl was a bonus.

"All right. Time's up — enough fooling around, let's get to work."

"A VIP detail. It's been a while."

Today wasn't event security — it was close protection for a VIP. A heavyweight assignment calling out even CEO Park Chul-woo himself to the site.

The protectee, whose identity they were only told the day of, was reportedly Cho Youkyeong, Vice Chairwoman of KE Group — a media and entertainment conglomerate dynasty.

"Hm?"

The moment he heard that name, Yoon Jay tilted his head.

Why does that name sound so familiar...