LOST ON YOU

13;Mr Chin's office

I wanted to spend more time with Shin, but I received a call from the company saying that Mr. Chin wanted to see me. When I told Shin, he looked worried, but I reassured him that I would be fine. I was fine, yes, but not completely. For one, Mr. Chin had not spoken to me since I went live drinking, and even after being warned, I still went live a second time with beer. Secondly, I was the only member who had not finished my song yet. I had not even completed the lyrics, let alone started recording. I took a shower and headed to the company.

This time, Shin insisted that I go with my bodyguards since Mr. Chin did not like us moving around without them. I had to listen to my boyfriend, right? Honestly, it was only because he told me to go with them that I agreed. Otherwise, I would have gone alone.

When I arrived at the FG building, the usual chaos greeted me. Thankfully, my bodyguard made sure no one came close without authorization. Coming with him turned out to be a good decision. I pressed the elevator button, and when it opened, I froze. Axel stepped out.

He was dressed casually in sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and slides. He looked like he did not want to be there at all, and I could tell from his eyes. A black mask covered part of his face, his hands tucked into his pockets. He had been leaning against the elevator wall, but the moment he saw me, he straightened and walked out. He gave me the usual brief eye contact before passing by me.

I did not even get the chance to say hi. I just stood there, watching him walk toward the exit. Sometimes I wonder why I like him so much when he can be so cold. But I was not supposed to think about him right now. I should be thinking about Shin, finishing what I had been called here for, and going back to the dorm to spend time with him. Shin gives me his full attention, unlike Axel.

I made my way to Mr. Chin’s office. His two bodyguards stood at the door as usual, and mine remained outside with them since he was not allowed in unless called. After being ushered in, I stepped inside. Mr. Chin sat behind his desk, playing with his pen as always.

“Good to see you, Evel,” he said, gesturing for me to sit.

I sat immediately, careful not to speak first. He looked like he was in a bad mood.

“So, when are you planning to start recording your song? You know you have less than a month before disbandment, and your song should be out by then. Is anything bothering you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’ll be done with it by the end of the week. I promise.”

He nodded. “What kind of video do you want to do?”

The question caught me off guard. I thought that decision would come after they listened to the song.

“You are good at editing videos. You even edited your last group release, and it went viral when people found out you were behind the effects,” he added, still playing with his pen.

“Yes, I think I will go for something simple like that. I also want to include my bandmates in the video. And once I’m done, sir, I would like to help your son, like I promised,” I said.

He smiled faintly. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t think you should involve yourself in that. You have your own life ahead of you, and helping my son is not something simple.”

“I still want to try,” I replied.

He stood up, his expression turning serious.

“You don’t want to ruin your life, do you? Are you ready for what that means? You might have to get involved with him. Are you ready to deal with a drug dealer? Are you ready to help someone who has been in and out of jail countless times?” His voice grew heavier with each word. “You probably think I have a perfect son. He is not. He is damaged. There is nothing left of him, Evel. Nothing. I don’t want you getting involved with him.”

He paused, then continued, his voice softer now.

“Just a few weeks ago, after you left that day, I got a call. He had been caught with drugs again. I had to go get him, but he did not even speak to me. He just left me there. And that is not the first time. He is my son, so I have to carry this burden. When his mother was alive, he was different. He was a sweet boy. To me, he is still my little angel. But after she died, he changed. He fell into depression, and that is how he got into drugs.” He looked down, his voice breaking slightly. “Do you see how damaged he is? Please, just forget about helping him. I will do my best. That is my responsibility as his father.”

As he spoke, I could hear the pain in his voice. I even saw him wipe away a tear that almost fell.

“You have already tried, right? Maybe it is time to let someone help you, sir. I am willing to help, if you let me,” I said, standing up.

I did not give him the chance to refuse. I already knew what his answer would be. I walked out of the office just like he had once walked out on me. I could feel that he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.

I did not care what his son had been through or how damaged he was. What mattered to me was finding a way to help him. After disbandment, I would have time, and I could use that time to get to know his son.