THE CONTRACT BOYFRIEND I FELL FOR

Han Seo-jun had three problems. His rent was overdue. His camera was broken. And the man currently staring at him like he had personally ruined his entire morning was probably the most intimidating person Seo-jun had ever seen. “Are you going to keep standing there?” Seo-jun blinked. He looked down at the expensive black suit he had accidentally splashed with coffee. Then he looked back up. “I said I was sorry.” “You said that three times.” “Because I'm still sorry.” The man's expression didn't change. Seo-jun swallowed. He had seen handsome men before. He had even photographed a few during his part-time work at fashion events. But this man was different. Tall. Impossibly composed. Dark hair perfectly styled. Sharp features. Cold eyes that seemed capable of making an entire room fall silent. And judging by the watch on his wrist and the car waiting outside the café, he was definitely rich. Very rich. Seo-jun sighed. Of course. Of all the people he could spill coffee on, he had to choose someone who probably earned more money in an hour than Seo-jun saw in a month. “I can pay for the cleaning,” Seo-jun offered. The man's eyebrow lifted slightly. “You?” “Yes, me.” “How much do you think that suit costs?” Seo-jun hesitated. “...Less than my rent?” For the first time, something almost resembling amusement flickered in the man's eyes. It disappeared so quickly that Seo-jun wondered if he'd imagined it. “You're honest.” “I can't afford to lie.” The man studied him. Seo-jun became increasingly uncomfortable beneath his gaze. “Look,” he said, grabbing a handful of napkins. “Let me help.” He reached toward the man's jacket. The man caught his wrist. Everything stopped. Seo-jun looked down at their hands. Then up at him. His heart gave one strange, unnecessary beat. The man's fingers were warm. “Don't,” he said quietly. Seo-jun immediately pulled his hand away. “Fine.” A silence settled between them. Then a phone rang. The man answered without looking away from Seo-jun. “Yes.” A voice spoke urgently from the other end. His expression hardened. “I'll be there in twenty minutes.” He ended the call. Seo-jun stepped aside. “Your important rich-person life is calling.” The man stared at him. “Rich-person life?” Seo-jun immediately regretted speaking. “Never mind.” The man picked up his briefcase. Before leaving, he paused. “What is your name?” Seo-jun frowned. “Why?” “I asked a question.” “Han Seo-jun.” The man's gaze lingered on him. “Kang Jae-hyun.” Then he walked away. Seo-jun watched him leave. He had no idea why he remembered the name immediately. Kang Jae-hyun. It sounded like the name of someone who belonged on the cover of a business magazine. Not someone whose expensive suit Seo-jun had just destroyed with a cup of iced americano. He groaned and covered his face. “What a disaster.” He didn't know yet that the disaster had only just begun. --- Three hours later, Seo-jun was sitting in his tiny apartment staring at his bank account. His expression slowly collapsed. “Twenty-three thousand won.” That was all he had left. His rent was due in four days. His camera repair would cost almost twice that amount. And his next photography job wasn't until the following week. He dropped his head onto the table. “This is fine.” It wasn't. His phone buzzed. Ji-ho: Did you get the job? Seo-jun typed back. Seo-jun: No. Three dots appeared immediately. Ji-ho: Again? Seo-jun sighed. Seo-jun: Don't remind me. Ji-ho: You need a rich boyfriend. Seo-jun stared at the message. Then laughed. “Idiot.” He put his phone down. Five seconds later, it buzzed again. Ji-ho: I'm serious. Seo-jun ignored him. He had more important things to worry about. Unfortunately, his life had apparently decided to prove Ji-ho right. --- The next morning, Seo-jun received a phone call from an unfamiliar number. “Is this Han Seo-jun?” “Yes.” “This is Kangwon Group.” Seo-jun sat upright. “Excuse me?” “We would like to arrange a meeting with you.” “Why?” There was a pause. “Mr. Kang requested it.” Seo-jun's stomach dropped. Mr. Kang. There was only one Kang he knew. “No.” Another pause. “No?” “I mean—yes. I mean, why does he want to see me?” “I wasn't given the details.” Seo-jun stared at the wall. He had spilled coffee on a stranger yesterday. Now that stranger wanted to meet him. This couldn't possibly be good. --- Two hours later, Seo-jun stood in front of the tallest building he had ever seen. KANGWON GROUP. He adjusted his borrowed jacket. “This is ridiculous.” The receptionist led him through a luxurious lobby. People in expensive suits moved around him. Seo-jun suddenly felt very aware of his cheap shoes. The elevator doors opened. He stepped inside. The doors closed. A moment later, they opened again on the top floor. A secretary was waiting. “Mr. Han?” “Yes.” “This way.” Seo-jun followed her into a huge office surrounded by glass windows. Seoul stretched beneath them. And standing beside the window was Kang Jae-hyun. He turned. Their eyes met. Seo-jun suddenly remembered the coffee. “About yesterday—” “Sit.” Seo-jun stopped. “Right.” He sat. Jae-hyun remained standing. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he walked toward the desk and placed a document in front of Seo-jun. Seo-jun looked down. His eyes widened. “A contract?” “Yes.” He looked up. “What kind of contract?” Jae-hyun finally sat across from him. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” Seo-jun stared. Silence. Then— “...What?” “I need a relationship.” Seo-jun blinked. “You called me here because you need a fake boyfriend?” “Yes.” “Why me?” Jae-hyun's expression remained unreadable. “Because you're convincing.” Seo-jun almost laughed. “You've known me for less than twenty-four hours.” “I've known enough.” “This is insane.” “Probably.” “And you expect me to agree?” “No.” Jae-hyun leaned back. “I expect you to read the contract first.” Seo-jun looked down. Six months. A monthly payment that made his current financial problems look embarrassingly small. Public appearances. Family dinners. Events. Occasional stays at Jae-hyun's residence. And then he reached the final page. His eyes stopped. Clause 14: Neither party may develop romantic feelings for the other. Seo-jun slowly raised his head. “Is this a joke?” “No.” “You're asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend while promising not to fall in love with you?” “Yes.” Seo-jun stared at him. Then, despite himself, he smiled. “You're seriously arrogant.” Jae-hyun's eyes narrowed slightly. “And you're seriously difficult.” For some reason, neither of them looked away. And neither of them knew that the moment Seo-jun signed that contract... The six-month relationship would be the last thing about their lives that remained fake.