Intro. Jung Hoseok learned early not to depend on anyone.
At 41, he was the kind of man who seemed to have everything under control. It always arrived with impeccable hair, casual but expensive clothes, easy smile. He knew the names of the interns, remembered managers' birthdays, made everyone feel special - even if it was just a second.
But no one knew much about him.
They didn't know he hated birthdays. That slept little. Who had silent crises in the middle of the night, lying on his back on the couch, with the TV connected in a low volume that made no sense.
Hoseok was charismatic, yes - but with a precise distance. He knew what to show and, more importantly, what to hide.
I had loved before. It had already been loved. And it didn't work out. Now I avoided bonds. I preferred the control. I preferred to keep the heart where I could see. After all, he was a man with a consolidated career, a body he still obeyed, and a fame that followed him even when he didn't want to. Everything in his life