Siblings Work in Business (56)
CEO Park’s long lecture to the siblings finally ended 20 minutes later, when Kim In-hyeok’s car arrived.
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened…”
“R-Really?”
Eun-ho looked a bit tired, but otherwise normal.
Unlike Eun-ji and Dal, who followed behind Ena with sullen expressions, as if they had just eaten something unpleasant.
Kim In-hyeok, avoiding getting involved, followed the tense siblings as they were led by a restaurant employee.
The restaurant was filled with shoes lined up along the hallway and in front of the private rooms.
The employee guided them past several rooms and led them to what seemed like the largest room, located in the farthest corner.
The room was filled with the savory aroma of meat and the rich scent of doenjang jjigae (soybean paste stew), as if the other members had already started eating.
“You’ve already started.”
“You sent the card, so we thought you meant for us to start.”
Roa replied with a bright smile, and CEO Park chuckled and nodded.
“I gave you the card knowing you would. It’s fine. Come and sit down.”
As soon as CEO Park finished speaking, everyone took their seats as if they had been waiting.
On the left side, the men sat in the order of Kim Jeong-min, Oh Dal, Eun-ho, and Kim In-hyeok, with Ena at the end.
On the right side, the women sat in the order of Choi Yeong-guk, Roa, Eun-ji, Jeong Hyun-ji, and Kim Mi-eun.
“Eat your fill, you’ll be working hard from now on.”
Perhaps putting three tables together was a miscalculation.
CEO Park soon regretted saying “eat your fill.”
Taking food away from carnivores mid-meal was close to impossible.
After they replaced the grill plates more than ten times for each table…
CEO Park quietly started counting the strokes on the bill.
He counted the number of ‘0’s after converting the price.
‘Oh dear, my head…’
9 servings of doenjang jjigae.
50 servings of meat.
12 bowls of rice.
More than 30 bottles of drinks, soju, and beer.
Although CEO Park was smiling, he was secretly crying inside.
While the Cloud members were still engrossed in their meat feast…
Eun-ho and Eun-ji, having eaten moderately for self-management, had moved to the back.
Kim In-hyeok, patting his full belly, spotted Eun-ho and Eun-ji sitting in the corner and approached them.
“Is Eun-ji asleep?”
“Yes, she seems tired.”
Eun-ho was scribbling and erasing something in a small notebook.
“Wow, you’re working even here?”
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
Eun-ho looked up at In-hyeok and quickly apologized.
In-hyeok, surprised by the unexpected apology, waved his hand dismissively.
“No, I wasn’t criticizing you. I was just curious and a bit worried, since it seems tiring…”
“Ah…”
Eun-ho smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.
“It is tiring, but…”
“You’re not even trying to lie about it being not tiring?”
“Haha.”
Eun-ho chuckled along with In-hyeok and glanced at Eun-ji, who was asleep beside him.
Eun-ji had been nodding off since she was halfway through her meal.
Although she pretended not to be, she must have been nervous about the debut stage, as she fell asleep right after finishing her meal.
“It’s a struggle.”
“A struggle?”
“Yes. I have to keep writing whenever I can to keep up with Lee Eun-ji’s composing speed.”
In-hyeok paused for a moment, looking at Eun-ho’s calm expression.
He seemed to have a lot on his mind for someone in his early twenties.
“You’re working hard. Here.”
Kim In-hyeok offered a green soju bottle, and Eun-ho shook his head and said,
“I’ll pass on the alcohol. For now, sorry.”
“Right, you didn’t even eat much meat because of the camera tomorrow, did you?”
“Yes, we have to manage ourselves.”
CEO Park said it was okay to eat more, but Eun-ho and Eun-ji were managing their intake for their performance the next day.
In-hyeok, about to lighten the mood, read a line from Eun-ho’s notebook.
“Baby, you know how we do.”
“Hyung—!”
“Fickle lover, sometimes good, sometimes…”
“Hyung, hyung, hyung!”
As Eun-ho quickly closed his notebook, his face flushed, In-hyeok grinned playfully.
“I feel like I’m going to die from embarrassment. Please stop.”
“What is it? A love letter?”
“It’s lyrics…”
“Ah, you said Eun-ji composes and you write lyrics, right?”
“Yes. I’m struggling even though I have no talent. Haha.”
As Eun-ho spoke self-deprecatingly, In-hyeok was about to say something, but then stopped.
He could have said, “You’re doing well too,” but In-hyeok was an early member of Cloud.
He had seen Eun-ho and Eun-ji since they started as trainees.
In-hyeok couldn’t bring himself to offer such simple comfort.
“You’re working hard.”
That was all he could say.
Eun-ho had been constantly compared to Eun-ji.
People easily compared A and B, consciously or unconsciously.
He knew Eun-ho had heard countless similar comparisons and words of comfort.
And Eun-ho always hid his feelings, despite being hurt.
In-hyeok, as a third party, had occasionally seen Eun-ho’s true feelings.
「“A brother jealous of his sister’s talent is… pathetic.”」
That was Eun-ho’s reply to In-hyeok’s question, “Are you okay?”
Eun-ji had a natural talent for both singing and dancing.
Eun-ho was talented too, but not as noticeable as Eun-ji.
‘It might have been different if Eun-ji wasn’t there…’
But they wouldn’t have wanted that.
Eun-ji seemed like she was born to be a singer, a celebrity.
And now, she even had a talent for composing, which wasn’t surprising.
‘A cost-effective factory that produces only high-quality goods.’
It was a well-known saying within NRY, and In-hyeok had also heard about Eun-ji’s monstrous composing speed.
“How many songs did Eun-ji make?”
In-hyeok asked, curious.
“It’s hard to keep track of all the songs she made, not just the finished ones. About one out of ten is good enough for the album, and we have five songs now… so she must have made over 50.”
It seemed the nickname ‘monster’ wasn’t for nothing.
He had heard about it, but he didn’t know it was this bad.
“You write lyrics for all 50 songs?”
“Don’t even joke about that, hyung. I’d die.”
In-hyeok chuckled at Eun-ho’s answer and then asked,
“So, how many songs do you have to write lyrics for?”
“I finished two a while ago, and the others are taking longer because I’m trying to match the concept.”
“Did you decide on a concept? I heard you hadn’t decided yet.”
“You know the CEO. He scraps anything he doesn’t like.”
“Right. He starts like a bulldozer. So, what’s the theme?”
“Time.”
In-hyeok was surprised by the rather common theme.
“Can’t you just commission a lyricist if it’s too much?”
In-hyeok asked casually.
But Eun-ho’s hand, fiddling with the corner of his notebook, stopped.
“The CEO has the connections and resources to hire a lyricist, considering the cost and everything.”
“Well… that would work, but…”
In-hyeok looked up and met Eun-ho’s gaze.
He understood the reason without him having to say it.
“They’re our songs.”
Eun-ho’s eyes were filled with ambition.
「“It’s a struggle.”」
In-hyeok recalled what Eun-ho had said earlier.
He thought Eun-ho had changed a lot lately.
He had become more mature and composed, and not just In-hyeok, but everyone around him said so.
“Both Lee Eun-ji and I… we’re stubborn, so we’re not satisfied unless we do everything ourselves.”
He thought it was a joke, but Eun-ho was still working hard.
“Both you and Eun-ji are amazing.”
Both Eun-ho and Eun-ji, like siblings, were ambitious and stubborn.
It had been like that since he first met them.
Their gazes during their first encounter were chilling, almost menacing, as if they had lived through something unimaginable for teenagers.
In-hyeok shuddered, remembering their first encounter, when he was intimidated by the high school students.
They no longer had the same intensity in their eyes, but…
‘Or do they?’
Looking at Eun-ho’s face again, his gaze, fixed on his notebook, was as intense as back then.
In-hyeok chuckled and said,
“We, Cloud, will help you shine, so do well. Make it big.”
Eun-ho looked at In-hyeok with slightly surprised eyes, then smiled brightly and nodded.
“Yes, definitely.”
In-hyeok returned to the grill.
If the day had ended there, it would have been a heartwarming end to the day and a fresh start to a new one, but reality was different.
Unease
As he calmly answered and looked up…
Eun-ho saw Eun-ji with cold eyes.
Not the sleeping Eun-ji, but another ‘Lee Eun-ji’ standing at her feet, wearing a hospital gown.
A piano sound, like the clattering of hooves, rang in his ears.
The sound of a piano in a barbecue restaurant where there was no piano…
“Haha…”
It was that face, the one that seemed lively thanks to the makeup, despite her cold body.
The hallucination no one believed.
At the most peaceful time.
When he was filled with hope and dreams for the future.
The hallucination he least wanted to see returned.
Memories he had forgotten, lulled by the peaceful moment, resurfaced one by one.
「“I want to live, CEO.”」
「“CEO, please make me so busy with work that I don’t have time for these distracting thoughts.”」
「“I just want to sing like crazy. You can make that happen for me, can’t you?”」
Despite the absurdity of the situation, the chilling piano melody, like the clattering of hooves, continued relentlessly.
When you’re too scared, even curses don’t come out, even though you know it’s absurd.
Eun-ji in the hospital gown smiled creepily and reached out to the sleeping Eun-ji.
A violin melody, like a child’s scream, started playing in his head, and he felt a headache coming on.
“Ugh…”
Eun-ji frowned and stirred in her sleep, as if having a bad dream.
Then…
The piano melody in his head…
The scream-like violin melody…
Stopped abruptly.
‘Ah.’
The pale Eun-ji was still lingering at the ‘real’ Eun-ji’s feet, looking at him with a chilling expression.
‘It’s okay.’
Lee Eun-ji was still alive here.
He had already decided to stay in this dream, even if it was a dream.
Ignoring the ghost of Eun-ji, who had been with him day and night for almost a year, wasn’t difficult.
He closed his eyes, trying to avoid her chilling gaze.
‘When I open my eyes again, I hope she’s gone.’
☹️ my baby