Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moonlight poured through the window of Seokjin's room, casting a pale glow over his workspace. The clock on his desk blinked 2:00 AM, but his fingers continued their relentless tapping against the keyboard. He couldn’t stop—not until the final presentation matched the vision in his mind. Every slide, every detail had to reflect his taste, his effort.

He had been pouring himself into this project for an entire month. Sacrificing sleep, ignoring distractions, and tuning out everything else, he sought nothing short of perfection.

Yet, as his weary eyes skimmed the glowing screen, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him. Was it enough? Would it ever be enough?

He walked into the office with a smile stretched wide across his face, greeting and bowing politely to his coworkers. The buzz of the workplace seemed distant as he headed straight to the restroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he studied his reflection. His smile faltered as he let out a long sigh. You’ve got this, he thought. You’re going to do this.

With a firm nod to himself and a deep, grounding breath, he left the restroom.

When the time came for his presentation, Seokjin felt a tremor of anticipation as he set up the projector. The high-ranking executives watched him with expectant eyes, their stares heavy with judgment. His nerves prickled, spreading like wildfire under his skin. Not now, please, he begged himself, forcing a smile to hide the panic clawing at his chest.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His hands trembled, betraying his facade. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, suffocating.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the tense silence. "Oh, excuse me," Kang Dae said, standing up from his seat with a grin that made Seokjin’s stomach churn. "It looks like Mr. Kim is feeling a bit nervous today. May I present this on his behalf?"

Before Seokjin could fully process what was happening, Kang Dae placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his grin widening as if he had just saved the day.

Seokjin nodded numbly, his legs moving on autopilot as he retreated to his seat. He watched helplessly as Kang Dae began presenting the project he had poured a month of his life into. The polished delivery, the confident charm—it all seemed effortless for Kang Dae.

The high bosses nodded along, visibly impressed. The room filled with murmurs of approval, and Seokjin felt like he was shrinking with each passing second. He clenched his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms. Why does it have to be this way? he thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in his throat as his hard work was eclipsed before his very eyes.

He left the office early, giving the excuse that he wasn’t feeling well. In truth, he couldn’t stomach the thought of going to the after-party. He was grateful—on the surface. Kang Dae had stepped in when he froze, and for that, he supposed he owed him. But the sting came afterward, when Kang Dae conveniently "forgot" to mention that the entire presentation was Seokjin's work. The high bosses had assumed it was Kang Dae’s brilliance on display, and not once had he corrected them.

Petty? Maybe. But the injustice gnawed at Seokjin, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn’t sit there, clapping and smiling politely while everyone toasted to Kang Dae’s "success." It felt like a slap in the face, mocking all the late nights and sacrifices Seokjin had endured for this project.

As he trudged home, his chest felt heavy, the weight of unspoken frustration and disappointment pressing down on him.

So he decided to throw himself a "petty party," a small rebellion against the frustration bubbling inside him. He headed to the nearest convenience store and grabbed a rice ball and instant ramen. It wasn’t much, but it felt satisfying to indulge in his own way. He was halfway through slurping his ramen when something caught his eye.

An old woman struggled to push a cart overflowing with empty boxes. She moved slowly, her frail frame trembling under the weight of the task. Suddenly, a group of people rushed past her, careless and impatient. The jostle caused her to stumble, and the boxes spilled across the pavement in a chaotic mess.

Seokjin froze for only a moment before instinct kicked in. He set down his chopsticks, left his half-eaten ramen behind, and hurried outside. The group that had caused the accident glanced back briefly, but with an annoyed huff, they continued on their way, uninterested in helping.

"Ahjumma, are you okay?" Seokjin asked gently, helping her to her feet.

The old woman nodded with a shaky smile, brushing herself off. "Aigo, don't worry about me, dear. It’s just some old boxes. You’ll get your hands dirty if you touch them."

Seokjin crouched down anyway, gathering the scattered boxes into a neat pile. "It’s okay, Ahjumma. A little dirt never hurt anyone."

The woman looked at him, her expression softening. "Such a kind young man," she murmured.

The warmth of the praise lingered in Seokjin's ears, making them flush slightly. Speaking of warmth, his thoughts drifted to the ramen he’d left behind in the store. Without thinking twice, he turned to the old woman with a smile.

"Ahjumma, would you like to eat with me?" he asked, his tone light and inviting.

The old woman hesitated, her expression tinged with embarrassment. "Ah, I don’t have any money with me right now," she admitted softly.

Seokjin’s grin widened as he pulled out his best puppy eyes—the same look that always worked on his parents, even now. "Please, Ahjumma. It’s so lonely to eat alone. Let me treat you, just this once."

The woman chuckled, her resistance melting away. "Alright, alright. Treat this old lady, then."

Feeling an unexpected sense of joy, Seokjin led her back into the convenience store. He picked out a few items—another ramen cup, some rice balls, and even a small carton of milk. The two sat down at his table, the earlier incident forgotten as they shared a quiet meal.

They ate in companionable silence until the old woman finally broke it. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked gently.

Seokjin, mid-bite into his rice ball, smiled. "I already told you, Ahjumma. A little dirt won’t hurt me."

The woman shook her head, her gaze more knowing than he expected. "I’m not talking about dirt, dear. I’m talking about here." She placed a hand over her heart, her voice soft yet piercing.

Seokjin froze, her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. Slowly, he set his food down and looked at her. There was something about her—something he couldn’t quite place. Despite himself, he answered honestly. "I’m trying."

The old woman nodded as if she understood the weight of that simple answer. "If you had one wish," she asked after a moment, "what would it be?"

Seokjin tilted his head, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "Are you going to make my wish come true?" he teased, trying to keep the mood light.

The woman shrugged, smiling mysteriously. "I’ll try."

Amused, Seokjin leaned back in his seat, thinking for a moment. "Mhm... I wish I could change my life. And myself, I guess."

Her brow arched as she studied him carefully. "You don’t like yourself?"

He faltered, his gaze dropping to his lap. "It’s not that... I just wish I had—I don’t know—charm or something"

The old woman reached across the table and patted his hand gently, pulling his eyes back to hers. "Believe me," she said, her voice steady and full of conviction. "You already have that"

Seokjin had barely started processing the old lady’s kind words when something completely unexpected happened. Out of nowhere, a loud beef! interrupted their moment. Seokjin glanced down at his phone instinctively, but there were no notifications. Confused, he looked up—and froze.

The old lady had pulled out an iPhone 16, her brows furrowed in irritation as she glanced at the screen. "Wrong timing," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head

Seokjin blinked, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. An iPhone 16?

Before he could even begin to question it, she turned to him with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, dear, I have to go," she said quickly

That was strange enough, but then she reached into her bag—wait, she has a bag? Seokjin hadn’t noticed it before, but now he realized it was an LV handbag, sleek and expensive-looking, completely at odds with her earlier humble demeanor. She rummaged inside it briefly before pulling out a book and handing it to him

The title, written in elegant gold lettering, caught his eye immediately: A World Between You and Me.

“Here” she said, thrusting the book into his hands. Before Seokjin could stammer out a single question, she stood up abruptly and began heading for the door

“Wait, Ahjumma—!” he called after her, completely lost

She stopped just outside the store, turning back to him with a look that sent a chill down his spine. “Make sure to choose the right path” she said cryptically

And then she walked off, the mystery deepening as she climbed into an unmistakable Ferrari and drove away without another word.

Seokjin sat there, stunned, holding the book like it might burst into flames. "What... just happened?" he muttered to himself, glancing at the book, then back at the door, half-expecting her to walk back in and say it was all a joke.

But she didn’t.

And Seokjin was left to wonder what kind of bizarre whirlwind he had just been swept into.

When Seokjin got home, he changed into his pajamas, still trying to process the surreal events of earlier. It all felt like a fever dream—an old lady with an LV bag, a cryptic message, and a Ferrari? He shook his head in disbelief. Well, rich people have rich hobbies, he thought, trying to brush it off.

His gaze drifted to the book she had given him. It was still sitting on his table, the title A World Between You and Me glinting softly under the light. Curiosity got the better of him, and he picked it up.

Settling into bed, Seokjin began to read.

The story followed a boy named Jimin, whose life was far from easy. His mother had abandoned him for another man, leaving him in the care of his aunt. Despite his hardships, Jimin maintained a heart of gold, staying optimistic and holding onto the belief that everything happened for a reason.

Jimin’s anchor in life was his childhood friend, Kim Taehyung, who had been with him through thick and thin. Taehyung was his safe haven, always there to pick him up when life knocked him down.

Seokjin tilted his head, muttering to himself as he turned the page. "It looks like this Kim Taehyung guy is in love with him."

The more he read, the clearer it became. Taehyung’s actions, his words, and the way he looked at Jimin—it all screamed unspoken love. Yet, Jimin seemed blissfully unaware, his focus on navigating his own struggles.

Seokjin paused in disbelief when he read the words. Jimin got a job as a butler for Seokjin.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Will you look at that" he muttered, raising a brow. "My name’s in here"

But as he continued reading, his amusement began to sour. The "Seokjin" in the book wasn’t just any character—he was the villain. The fictional Seokjin seemed to take joy in making Jimin’s life miserable, constantly belittling him and putting him in impossible situations.

Kim Taehyung, hated Seokjin and frequently urged Jimin to quit. But Jimin, ever resilient, refused. He insisted he needed the money to support himself and his aunt.

Then came the part that made Seokjin grit his teeth. At one of Seokjin’s glamorous parties, Jimin accidentally spilled something, and the fictional Seokjin responded by throwing champagne all over Jimin’s suit.

"What a fucking bastard" Seokjin muttered, his frustration bubbling over. It felt strange cursing out his own name, but the character was so infuriating he couldn’t help it.

Despite his irritation, he couldn’t put the book down. He read on, his jaw tightening as Jimin humbly bowed and apologized, only for Seokjin and his rich friends to laugh at him and cruelly dismiss him.

When Jimin fled to the garden in tears, Seokjin felt a pang in his chest. The boy didn’t deserve any of this.

But then something unexpected happened in the story—a sliver of hope. As Jimin sat on the garden bench, crying into his hands, a handkerchief appeared in his view. Startled, Jimin looked up and saw a young man with doe eyes, dressed in a sharp black suit. His wavy hair framed his calm expression as he gently nudged the handkerchief toward Jimin.

The man’s presence was steady, comforting. Jimin hesitated before accepting the handkerchief, and the two began to talk. Sitting together on the bench.

The man listened quietly, offering few words but an understanding presence. When someone called for him from a distance—calling him Jungkook—he smiled softly, excused himself, and left, leaving Jimin alone with the handkerchief and a renewed sense of strength

Seokjin’s eyes lit up with vindictive satisfaction as he read about Jungkook pulling all his shares out of Seokjin’s company after discovering how horribly he had treated Jimin.

“Ha! Serves you right!” he said aloud, grinning as if he were personally avenging Jimin. Excitement bubbled up as he turned the pages, eager to see the villain’s downfall.

But the next part made him cringe so hard he wanted to hide under his blanket.

When fictional Seokjin learned that Jungkook had taken an interest in Jimin, his hatred for the boy deepened. Not because of business—oh no—but because Seokjin himself had secretly been harboring feelings for Jungkook ever since seeing him at a conference.

Seokjin groaned, burying his face in the book. "Oh, come on!" he muttered, mortified. He could barely stand reading this version of himself. "Supposed to approach Seokjin? What kind of egotistical logic is that?"

Apparently, the fictional Seokjin had been too prideful to make the first move, convinced that Jungkook should have been the one to initiate contact. And now, the thought of Jungkook falling for someone like Jimin sent him into a jealous spiral.

Fueled by his bruised ego and growing resentment, Seokjin’s character began making Jimin’s life even more miserable. The tactics grew crueler, the punishments harsher, all in an attempt to crush Jimin’s spirit.

Seokjin flinched as his phone buzzed loudly with a notification, breaking his immersion. He closed the book and exhaled loudly, muttering, "This guy needs therapy" before grabbing his phone.

Great. A reality check.

His boss had sent him a file to arrange, probably expecting it to be done before the afternoon meeting. Seokjin clicked his tongue in irritation. "Why can’t I just live in a book?" he grumbled, already dreading the task.

But when his eyes darted to the clock, his irritation turned into panic. It was 3 a.m. "What the—have I been reading this book all night?"

He glanced back at the book, the cliffhanger calling to him. He wanted to finish it, but a sinking feeling told him he’d regret it. If he kept going, he’d end up groggy and miserable tomorrow. Still, the curiosity gnawed at him.

After a moment of silent deliberation, he made the ultimate apology to book lovers everywhere. "Sorry" he whispered, wincing at the thought of committing such a literary sin.

He read the back of the book.

The instant regret hit him like a truck. His eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again as he processed what he was reading.

Jungkook killed Seokjin?
Kim Taehyung died?
And Jimin ended up with Jungkook?

"What in the ever-loving hell is this?" Seokjin muttered, closing the book in frustration. The spoilers didn’t clarify anything—they only raised more questions. Why did Jungkook kill Seokjin? What happened to Taehyung? And how on earth was Jimin okay with all this?

He leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I’m going to have to actually read the whole thing now, aren’t I?" he muttered.

With a heavy sigh, Seokjin placed the book on his bedside table and made a promise to himself to dive back in tomorrow. For now, though, sleep was calling. And after those bombshell spoilers, he definitely needed it.

Seokjin shot up from the bed in a panic, his heart racing as the sunlight streamed through his face. Shit, He must be late he thought, rubbing his eyes, but something felt... off. He rubbed harder, trying to clear the fog in his mind. No matter how many times he blinked, he was sure that this wasn’t his apartment.

The room around him was elegant, almost too elegant—polished furniture, plush carpets, rich, neutral tones. It looked nothing like the cramped apartment he’d been living in.

Where the hell am I? Seokjin thought, his mind racing. Did I get drunk yesterday? Did I end up in someone else’s place?

He glanced at his reflection in the nearby mirror, trying to calm his spiraling thoughts. He was still in pajamas—thankfully—but these weren’t the cheap ones he usually bought at Walmart. No, these were... expensive. The soft fabric felt more like silk than cotton, and it fit him perfectly, like someone had tailored them just for him.

As he tried to process all of this, a soft knock at the door startled him. He froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Who could it be? What was happening? But he had no choice—he needed answers.

Hesitantly, Seokjin stood and approached the door, his gaze darting around the room once more as if it could somehow explain itself. When he unlocked it, a maid stood there, bowing deeply.

"Young master, your breakfast is ready," she said, her tone respectful and formal.

Seokjin’s eyes widened as he stared at her, then glanced over at the other maid standing just outside the door, also bowing.

What was going on? Where was he? His mind was buzzing with questions, but before he could ask anything, the maids remained silent, waiting patiently for his response.

Seokjin blinked, still processing, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t real, was it?

Chapter Text

Apparently, it was real. Why? Because Seokjin had been stuck in this unfamiliar, luxurious place for an entire week. No matter how many times he slapped his face or tried to sleep it off, he always woke up in the same elegant bedroom.

He’d done some snooping and pieced together a few facts. He was still in Korea—thankfully—and it was the same year as it had been in his world. Or whatever this was.

But nothing about this made sense. He wasn’t supposed to be here. How did he go from struggling employee to living in a place that looked like a set from a chaebol drama?

"Young master, your food is here" came the familiar voice of a maid outside the door.

Seokjin winced, cringing at the title. A week in, and he still wasn’t used to being called "young master." The words made him feel like he’d been yanked into someone else’s life entirely.

"Uh, yeah, coming," he muttered half-heartedly.

The reality of his situation sank in once more. How did I end up here? he thought bitterly. But with no answers and no apparent way out, all he could do was play along. For now.

He opened the door, revealing a maid standing there with a tray. She froze, wide-eyed, as if she’d just witnessed something out of the ordinary. Behind her, another maid outside the door kept her head bowed deeply.

Seokjin wanted to tell them to stop with the bowing—it felt weird, unnecessary—but he stopped himself. He’d been here long enough to piece together that whoever this body had belonged to was not someone kind or approachable. Any sudden change in behavior might confuse—or even scare—the people around him, and he didn’t want to make things harder on himself.

The maid entered hesitantly and set the tray on the enormous table in his ridiculously extravagant room. It was the kind of room that screamed wealth: fine furniture, elegant decor, and a table so large it could double as a dining table for six.

“Thanks" he said as casually as he could manage.

The maid froze again, her head snapping up to look at him with an expression so shocked it was borderline offensive. If he were in his old body, he’d be hurt. Was saying thank you so out of character for this guy?

The maid quickly shook her head, as though trying to clear her thoughts, bowed again, and left without another word. The door clicked shut, and Seokjin sighed, finally alone.

He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the tray of freshly baked cookies and tea. Where the hell am I? he thought bitterly. And why am I here?

He’d been in this strange, luxurious world for a week now, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, this was real. Sleeping didn’t bring him back to his cramped apartment, slapping his face only made his cheeks red, and the maids weren’t figments of his imagination.

Whoever had lived in this body before, though, was clearly a jerk. The maids flinched whenever he moved or spoke. One had even shielded her face when he reached out to grab something earlier in the week. He hadn’t done anything remotely threatening, but their fear was palpable.

And this guy—this Kim Seokjin—did nothing all day. No work, no purpose. He just lounged in this massive house, surrounded by wealth.

Seokjin picked up a cookie and took a bite, enjoying the buttery sweetness as he walked toward the window. The view was just as extravagant as the room: a sprawling garden with perfectly trimmed hedges, blooming flowers, and a fountain that was far too large to be practical.

He chewed thoughtfully, trying to piece things together. Reincarnation? Maybe. But weren’t reincarnated people supposed to forget their past lives? He remembered everything—his family, his tiny apartment.

And then there was the strangest part: this body was also called Kim Seokjin. Same name. Same face, though this version of him was somehow more handsome. The unfairness of it all sometimes made him want to cry. Who knew he could look this good?

He took another bite of the cookie, but it got stuck in his throat as a horrifying thought crossed his mind.

Does this mean I’m dead?

His hands started to shake as he put the cookie down. If he was here, what had happened to his old body? Did his family think he was dead? Did they cry for him? Did his friends hold a funeral?

His chest tightened as anxiety threatened to overwhelm him. He pressed his hands to his temples and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside his head.

Okay, focus. One thing at a time. First, figure out why you’re here. Then, figure out how to get back.

But as he looked around at the elegant room, the tray of untouched tea, and the expansive garden outside, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

What if there was no going back?

Seokjin decided to leave his room. Staying inside would only trigger another anxiety attack, like the one he had when he first woke up in this strange world. He shuddered at the memory—how the maids had panicked and called a doctor the moment he started rambling about whether this was real or if he was trapped in a dream. The doctor’s concerned look still made him cringe. He had no intention of repeating that experience.

As soon as he stepped out, the maids scurrying through the halls froze and bowed deeply to him. Seokjin suppressed a sigh, resisting the urge to massage his temples. He wasn’t used to being treated this way, but he forced himself to play along, walking forward with a demeanor that matched the role of "young master."

If there was one thing he appreciated, it was the house—or rather, the castle. It wasn’t just nice; it was grand, elegant, and absurdly luxurious. At least he hadn’t reincarnated or possessed someone poor, he thought wryly.

Still, the house felt empty. Seokjin noticed there were no signs of parents or family. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or pity the original owner of this body.

Eventually, he found himself on the third floor and stepped into the study. It was a room filled with towering shelves of books, ornate furniture, and an air of sophistication. Hoping to find some clues about the life he was now living, Seokjin began scanning the room.

Just as he reached for a book, there was a knock at the door.

“Young master, someone is here to see you,” a maid’s voice called from the other side.

Before he could respond, the door swung open, revealing a man with a wide grin.

“Seokjin!” the man exclaimed, his voice full of excitement as he walked in.

Before Seokjin could say anything, the man threw his arms around him in a tight hug.

"How are you? We've been texting you for a week, but you still haven’t replied. Are you okay?" the man asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Seokjin stared at him, his mind racing. Texting me? For a week? Who is this person? He forced a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Ah, you know... I’ve been busy."

The man nodded but suddenly stopped grinning. His eyes narrowed as he scanned Seokjin from head to toe. "You know, something’s off about you."

Seokjin’s heart nearly stopped. Has he figured it out?

The man tilted his head, studying him. Seokjin felt his pulse quicken.

"Why are you wearing that? You hate those clothes. You’ve always said the color disgusts you"

Seokjin glanced down at his outfit—a soft pink cotton sweater What’s wrong with this? It’s comfortable! He cleared his throat. "Ah... just felt like a change."

"Really?" The man didn’t look convinced.

Seokjin nodded firmly, crossing his arms in mock confidence. "Why? Don’t tell me I don’t look good in this outfit." He raised an eyebrow, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. "Anyway, what are you doing here? Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?"

The man’s grin returned, and he laughed. "Oh, come on, hyung. We both know you look good in anything you wear. Besides, I missed you."

Missed me? Don’t tell me this version of Seokjin has a lover!

Trying to mask his panic, Seokjin waved him off "Yeah, yeah. So, what do you want?"

The man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, you got me. I came because my dad needs you to sign this."

"What’s that?"

The man looked confused. "Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about the new toy release? We need your signature for it to pass before we can publicize it"

Toy release? Am I a CEO? Then why am I in this house instead of the office? Questions swirled in Seokjin’s mind, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldn’t risk this man becoming suspicious. "Oh, right. Of course." He reached for the documents and quickly signed them.

The man grinned as he took the papers back. "Thanks, hyung-nim!"

He turned to leave but stopped, tapping the air with his index finger as if remembering something. "Ah, I almost forgot—here are the applications for your new butler" He handed Seokjin a thick stack of papers.

Seokjin froze as the man handed him a thick stack of documents. "Butler?" he asked, his voice faltering slightly.

The man grinned, oblivious to Seokjin’s internal panic. "Yeah, you’ve been complaining about the last one for weeks. Said he was ‘inefficient’ or whatever." He shrugged. "So, I figured you’d want a new one. Here are the applications my dad’s secretary sorted out. Pick one, and I’ll have HR handle the rest."

Seokjin blinked, staring at the papers in his hands. A butler? Of course, this guy needed a personal butler. He managed to force a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt. "Oh, right. I’ve been meaning to... look into that."

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, thankfully. Instead, he leaned casually against the desk, his smile never wavering. "You really must be busy if you’ve forgotten about all this. And here I thought you lived for this stuff."

"Yeah, well, things have been hectic," Seokjin said, waving vaguely. He had no idea what he was referring to, but the man seemed satisfied enough to drop the subject.

"Alright, alright, I’ll leave you to it." The man pushed off the desk and headed for the door. Before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder, a teasing smirk on his lips. "But seriously, hyungnim, lose the pink. It’s weirding me out."

Seokjin rolled his eyes but forced a grin. "Noted"

He watched the man leave. He didn’t know him, and he didn’t understand why the hell he needed a butler when he already had maids. It didn’t make sense—this man wasn’t doing anything, and yet he seemed to be given special treatment. A realization hit him like a switch. He almost slapped himself for not thinking of this earlier. Quickly, he grabbed the laptop, opened it, and typed "Kim Seokjin."

The results immediately showed up.

The Kim family had been in the toy business for 50 years. Seokjin’s grandfather had been making toys since he was a teenager, despite many companies turning him down because he came from a poor background. He didn’t have the financial backing to support his creations, but he never gave up. He continued promoting his toys and even drew pictures of his designs on his own hands. It was a stroke of luck when Seokjin’s grandmother met him, and they became business partners. Together, they built the company into a successful toy empire, dominating the market in the country.

Unfortunately, both of them passed away due to old age. The company was passed on to Seokjin’s father, the youngest son. With his father’s new ideas and creativity, they created another masterpiece, a product so popular that it wasn’t just a national hit—it became a global sensation.

Seokjin’s mother and father had an arranged marriage, but according to paparazzi reports, they eventually fell in love. Photos of them holding hands and smiling at each other, two years later Seokjin was born. It was a beautiful story, one filled with love, success, and family moments.

Seokjin continued scrolling through the photos: vacations, celebrations, school events—snapshots of the happy family they once were. It made Seokjin’s chest tighten as he read the next article. The unthinkable had happened—Seokjin’s mother and father were in a car accident. They both died, and in a tragic twist, Seokjin’s mother had been holding him, protecting him during the crash. Seokjin, at just 10 years old, didn’t have any serious injuries, but the article ended with a note: “I’m sure inside, he’s pretty hurt and has trauma.”

Seokjin’s heart clenched. The article described a child who had lost both parents in the blink of an eye.

Another article popped up, saying that the company had been passed on to Seokjin after his parents' death. However, because he was still so young, the responsibility had been temporarily taken on by his uncle, the first son, with the help of Seokjin’s cousin.

"Ah so he's Seokjin cousin" he said when he saw the picture of the man visited him earlier 

As Seokjin continued his search, he stumbled across a few more articles that he really shouldn’t have.

NEWS1

KIM SEOKJIN REPORTED TO BE RUDE TO EMPLOYEES, THREATENING TO SUE THE COMPANY IF HE DOESN'T GET WHAT HE WANTS

Comments:

"Ugh, typical Seokjin. Doesn’t care about anyone but himself."

"This guy really thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's rich."

"I don’t care if he’s the CEO, no one should treat the employees like this. He’s a disgrace."

NEWS2

PLAYER KIM SEOKJIN SEEN WITH ANOTHER MAN AGAIN—HIS THIRD IN TWO MONTHS

Comments:

"Third man in two months? Can we all just admit this guy is a mess?"

"It’s no surprise at this point. He’s clearly incapable of any real relationship."

"Stop calling him a ‘player,’ he's just a mess."

"At this rate, he’s gonna be single forever. No one can trust him."

NEWS3

KIM SEOKJIN VIDEO OF HARASSING PEOPLE AT A BAR LEAKED

Comments:

"How is this guy still relevant? Disgusting."

"Another video? Are we surprised? This is who he really is."

"Why is this man still in the public eye? He needs to be held accountable for his actions."

"I feel bad for anyone who has to work with him. No one deserves this."

Closing the laptop and massaging his temples. Okay, so he's a rude piece of shit who thinks he's above everyone—got it. Everyone hates him. At least he’s gay, though, just like me. Well, that’s something, right?

He shook his head, trying to push the wave of frustration aside. Why the hell do I have to be stuck in this body? The anger bubbled up, but he quickly squashed it, reminding himself that there had to be some way out of this mess. Okay, think positive. Focus on what’s good.

I’ve got a roof over my head. It’s a nice roof. I’m not living in some shitty situation. And hey, I’m not stuck doing anything I hate… for now. I can figure this out. I just need to keep my cool and not lose it over every little thing. There's gotta be a way to take control of this situation.

He exhaled, steadying himself. Yeah. Positive. I’m stuck in a weird place, but it’s not the end of the world. I can figure it out. Just one step at a time.

Seokjin stood up to clear his mind, but his hand nudge the documents and it slipped from the table. He crouched to pick them up, and as he did, one of the papers caught his eye. It was the butler qualification document, but what grabbed his attention was the name on it: 

Park Jimin.

A strange feeling washed over him. Why did that name sound so familiar? He couldn’t quite place it, but it nagged at the back of his mind. He arranged the documents and left, but the name continued to bug him—at lunch, during dinner, even late at night. It was like a memory that was just on the verge of being unleashed, but he couldn’t fully grasp it.

“Mhm... is it a book?” Seokjin mumbled as he lay on his bed, eyes closed. His brows furrowed as the nagging thought persisted. Then, in a flash, his eyes shot open, and he jumped to his feet. “No way!”

Without hesitation, he bolted out of his room and headed straight to the study. He rifled through the stack of files on the desk until he found it: the butler applications. His fingers trembled slightly as he flipped to the page that had caught his attention earlier.

Park Jimin

Lives with his aunt

Seokjin stared at the document, his eyes narrowing. Beneath the neatly typed details was a small ID photo.

Park Jimin was smiling softly in the image. His features were delicate but striking—round cheeks, bottom full lips curved into a polite grin, and eyes that seemed to sparkle even in the tiny photo.

He froze. Lives with his aunt? Jimin? Heart of gold?

As if a dam had broken, memories flooded back—vivid and unstoppable. The old lady. He could see her struggling with heavy boxes, her frail frame bent with effort. He had helped her carry them. They’d ended up sharing a meal, her grateful smile still etched in his mind. Before parting, handed him a book. A World Between You and Me.

The book. the one he had skimmed through, skipping crucial details just to see how it ended. And now, he remembered. The villain’s name. Kim Seokjin.

His breath hitched. “Don’t tell me... am I the villain Seokjin?” His voice trembled as realization dawned. It didn’t seem possible, but the more he thought about it, the more everything clicked.

His legs felt weak, and he slumped into the chair, gripping the desk as if the ground beneath him had turned to quicksand. “Am I really in their world? How did this even happen? Did that old lady curse me or something?”

The only thing Seokjin remembered were the basic character introductions and the love interest—details that barely scratched the surface. The main plot, the most important part, was something he was sure he had skipped over, but one detail from the end of the book lingered in his mind:

Jungkook killed Seokjin.

Shit.

His stomach dropped as he processed the realization. There was no way he could risk getting close to anyone tied to that storyline. Park Jimin? Absolutely not.

Seokjin made a firm decision in that moment—he needed to stay far away from the main characters, especially Jungkook. The last thing he needed was to get entangled in the dangerous web surrounding him.

Chapter Text

Breaking News: Jeon Jungkook Secures Historic Deal with Moon Corp, Solidifying His Place as the Youngest and Most Powerful CEO in the Country

Jeon Jungkook, the 25 year old CEO of the luxury perfume brand Eternal Scents, has just signed a monumental deal with Moon Corp, a powerhouse in the fragrance industry. This partnership is set to expand Eternal Scents' global reach, making it a dominant force in both domestic and international markets.

Industry insiders are calling the deal a game-changer, as Moon Corp’s cutting-edge distribution channels will allow Eternal Scents to infiltrate untapped markets across Asia and Europe.

"Jeon Jungkook’s ability to secure such a massive deal at such a young age speaks volumes about his vision and business mind" said Lee Minho, a senior analyst at Global Market Watch.

This partnership also solidifies Jungkook’s reputation as a high in the perfume industry, with experts predicting record-breaking profits for the upcoming fiscal year.

Eternal Scents Expands Global Influence: Forbes Highlights Jeon Jungkook’s Latest Business Triumph

Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Eternal Scents, continues to dominate headlines after finalizing a high-stakes deal with Moon Corp. In an exclusive feature by Forbes, Jungkook is lauded for his strategic planning and ability to innovate in a highly competitive market.

Eternal Scents, known for its signature blends of timeless elegance and modern flair, has seen an exponential rise in sales over the past years. This new partnership promises to amplify the brand’s success by streamlining production and introducing exclusive scents to European and Middle Eastern markets.

“Jeon Jungkook is not just a CEO—he’s a visionary redefining what it means to lead a luxury brand in the 21st century" the article states.

“A Genius in the Boardroom”: Industry Experts Praise Jeon Jungkook’s Leadership of Eternal Scents

At just 25, Jeon Jungkook has accomplished what most CEOs dream of achieving in a lifetime. Leading Eternal Scents, he has transformed the company into a beacon of innovation and profitability.

Known for his meticulous attention to detail, Jungkook personally oversees the creation of every new fragrance, ensuring each product aligns with the company’s quality and sophistication.

“What sets Jungkook apart is his ability to think several steps ahead. He combines creativity with data-driven strategies to predict and capitalize on emerging trends" says Kim Yuna, a leading consultant in luxury branding.

Under Jungkook’s leadership, Eternal Scents has won multiple awards for both its product line and marketing campaigns. His skillful negotiation tactics and commitment to excellence have earned him accolades from competitors and partners alike.

“Jeon Jungkook is proof that age is no barrier to success" praises CEO Magazine. “He is the epitome of modern leadership: sharp, innovative, and unstoppable”

"Wow, to think he's this amazing. No wonder he's the main lead" Seokjin muttered as he scrolled through the articles about Jeon Jungkook. His eyes lingered on Jungkook's profile picture, a snapshot taken during a conference. Jungkook sat at the head of the table, speaking to an audience with a serious expression that gave nothing away.

Wearing a sleek black suit, his sharp jawline and doe eyes stood out, but there was a coldness to his gaze—like he was assessing the entire room without saying a word. It struck Seokjin how, in every photo, Jungkook wore the same expression: calm, unreadable, and impossibly perfect.

“No smile, huh? Guess that’s standard for chaebol heirs in books" Seokjin mused, shaking his head. Then, a memory surfaced, unbidden:

Jungkook smiling softly, his cold demeanor melting as he excused himself politely. That rare smile wasn’t for the crowd, though—it was for Jimin.

Seokjin frowned. "Oh, right. That garden scene. He smiled at Jimin when he excuse himself"

He sat back, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Of course. Main characters always have to do their whole savior bit when their love interest is in distress. Classic"

But then it hit him.

Jimin was crying because of the villain, Seokjin. Their fateful meeting—the event that sparked the romance—was all thanks to him.

“Wait... does that mean if I don’t hire Park Jimin, the entire story goes off the rails?” His eyes widened. The narrative’s foundation was built on his cruelty toward Jimin, which made Jungkook step in to save him. No villain Seokjin, no damsel Jimin.

The stakes rose higher as another realization dawned on him.

"Wait a second" He stared blankly at the laptop. "Jeon Jungkook is also one of the company’s main investors."

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. If he refused to play his role or stepped out of line, it wasn’t just the story he’d mess up—it was his company, his wealth, his life.

"Shit," he hissed, slamming the laptop shut. He rubbed his temples furiously. “Okay, think, think. How do I not die and not destroy the company at the same time?!”

Seokjin opened his laptop again, typing "Kim and Jeon partnership" into the search bar. As expected, the results didn’t disappoint.

JEON PERFUME AND KIM TOYS ANNOUNCE UNEXPECTED PARTNERSHIP

In an unexpected turn of events, Jeon Corporation, renowned for its luxury fragrances, has entered a partnership with Kim Toys, a global leader in the toy industry. Sources reveal that the collaboration aims to expand both brands’ market reach by creating exclusive limited-edition merchandise and cross-promotional campaigns.

At the signing ceremony, Jeon Corporation’s CEO, Jeon Jungkook, shook hands with the Kim family, including the head of the company, Kim Seokjin, Kim Seokjin's uncle and his cousin. Jungkook stands beside the Kim family members, sealing the historic deal.

Seokjin stared at the screen, a chill running through him as he studied the photo of Jungkook, his sharp eyes locked in a handshake with him.

“So, in other words,” Seokjin muttered, leaning back in his chair “One way or another, we’re bound to meet. But if I hire Jimin, then abuse him just so he can run crying into the male lead’s arms…” He shivered violently. “I’ll get killed.”

The thought alone was enough to make his skin crawl. Abusing someone? That wasn’t him. Sure, this body belonged to the villain Seokjin, but he wasn’t a villain.

“Nope,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “Sorry, Jimin, but my life comes first. I’m not hiring you, and I’m definitely not abusing you. You’ll just have to meet Jungkook some other way"

He nodded to himself as if solidifying the plan. “Besides, you two are the main love interests. Fate or the plot or whatever will bring you together in the end.”

Satisfied with his decision, he closed the laptop with a resolute click. “I’ll deal with Jungkook when I see him. Until then, I just have to keep my head down and stay alive.”

The phone buzzed insistently on the desk, the name Max flashing across the screen. Seokjin stared at it, his stomach twisting. He couldn’t answer. Not only because he had no clue who Max was—whether they were a friend, an enemy, or something in between—but also because the phone was still locked behind a passcode. Great. Another problem to deal with.

He set the phone aside and sighed. He needed to focus on figuring out this life and, ideally, finding the old lady who had somehow landed him here. Maybe she could send him back to his own world.

Deciding he couldn’t make progress sulking indoors, he rummaged through Seokjin’s closet for something wearable. Most of the clothes screamed money, with flashy logos and expensive tailoring. Finally, he found a simple, comfy sweater—thank god for small miracles—and threw it on.

As he stepped outside the room, a middle-aged man approached him. Judging by his crisp uniform and professional demeanor, Seokjin guessed he was the driver.

“Young Master, are you going somewhere?” the man asked politely.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said, trying to sound casual. “My phone’s broken, so I need to get it fixed.”

The driver hesitated. “You’re not going to buy a new one?” He seemed startled by the idea. “My apologies, Young Master, if I’ve overstepped.”

Seokjin quickly waved him off. “No need. I have a lot of files here, so I can’t throw it away" He wasn’t lying—the phone was potentially his best shot at piecing together Seokjin’s life. If he understood this body’s habits and relationships, maybe he’d survive long enough to find a way back.

“Ah, of course. I’ll prepare the car for you.”

“Car?”

The driver frowned slightly, confused. “Yes, Young Master. Is there a problem?”

Seokjin blinked. Right. Of course. He wasn’t some broke, struggling nobody anymore. He was rich rich now. No need to take the bus or subway.

“Of course. I’ll just… wait for the car" he said quickly, forcing a smile.

The driver gave him an odd look, as if something about him seemed off. Seokjin winced internally. Acting like a chaebol heir was so hard. He couldn’t be rude to an older man—it just wasn’t in his nature—but clearly, this world expected him to be someone else entirely.

As the driver left to prepare the car, Seokjin sighed again. “I need to survive this… but why does being rich feel like more trouble than it’s worth?”

The world he found himself in wasn’t much different from his own. The streets still bore the same Korean signage, the same bustling crowds, and, unfortunately, the same unbearable traffic jams. As the car crawled along, Seokjin stared out the window, half expecting to see some fantastical, otherworldly element that would prove this wasn’t just his Korea. But no—it was the same roads, the same skyline.

He told the driver the place he met the old lady abruptly.

The man looked confused but nodded and started navigating the car in that direction. Seokjin sat back, his heart racing. If he could find that convenience store, the one where he met her, he could get answers. Maybe this whole thing would finally make sense.

But when they reached the area, his heart sank. There was no convenience store. No cozy little spot where he used to grab late-night snacks to calm his frustrations at work. Instead, there was a sleek, modern hair salon. He blinked, as if willing the scene to change, but it didn’t.

“This can’t be right,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to steady himself. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Where to, Young Master?” the driver asked.

He paused, naming another familiar location, a place etched in his mind.

The driver punched it into the GPS, but after a few moments, the screen blinked back at them: GPS cannot find the location.

“What? No, that’s impossible!”

“Are you sure it’s the right name?” the driver asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Seokjin snapped, his voice sharper than intended. He leaned forward to peer at the GPS, but the error persisted.

“Then… just tell me how to get there" the driver offered.

“Fine" Seokjin’s voice wavered as he gave directions, his mind desperately trying to rationalize the situation. The place has to exist. It has to.

They took turn after turn, winding through streets that grew less and less familiar. His heart hammered in his chest as they failed to find the destination.

“Stop the car,” he said suddenly.

“Pardon, Young Master?”

“I said stop!”

The car came to a halt, and Seokjin stumbled out onto the road. He stood there, looking around, his stomach twisting in knots.

This was supposed to be where his parents’ house was. The neighborhood where he grew up. But now, it was nothing but an empty stretch of road. No houses. No signs of life. Just cars passing by on a highway that felt disturbingly alien.

He put a hand over his mouth, his body trembling. The reality of it all hit him like a freight train. This isn’t your world, his mind whispered cruelly. Nothing you know exists here.

A crushing wave of loneliness washed over him. He felt like a ghost, haunting a place that had no memory of him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he swallowed them back.

What was he supposed to do now?

He stood frozen, his breath hitching as he stared at the empty stretch of road. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was all some elaborate trick, the truth was glaringly obvious. The world he knew—the one filled with the warmth of his family, the familiarity of his neighborhood, and the memories of his past—was gone. Or maybe, he was gone from it.

“This can’t be real,” he whispered shakily, his voice barely audible over the hum of passing cars. His legs felt weak, like they might give out at any moment. He clutched his chest, as if trying to steady his erratic heartbeat.

“Are you all right, Young Master?” The driver’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, hesitant but concerned.

Seokjin turned toward him, his eyes wide and glassy. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but what could the driver possibly say? This man, whoever he was, only knew him as Seokjin. And the Seokjin he now inhabited wasn’t someone who would lose composure like this.

“I’m fine” he managed, though his voice cracked at the end. He cleared his throat, forcing a steadier tone. “I just... I need some air.”

The driver hesitated but eventually nodded, retreating to give Seokjin space.

Seokjin’s knees buckled, and he sank onto the curb, his hands trembling in his lap. The cold pavement beneath him felt real enough, grounding him just enough to keep from breaking down entirely.

“Think, Seokjin, think,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “This world—this isn’t my world. But it looks like it. Feels like it. Why? How?”

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Why me? Why this? He wasn’t supposed to be here. And if this was some twisted version of the book, then what was he supposed to do? Just live out the story?

He forced himself to stand, wiping at his face as if to erase any sign of vulnerability. If he was trapped here, then he would find a way to survive. He would figure out why this was happening—and how to stop it.

For now, though, he needed to play the part of the Seokjin this world knew. Whatever happened, he couldn’t let anyone suspect he didn’t belong. His life depended on it.

“Driver” he called, his voice more composed now. “Let’s go to the mall now"

The man nodded, and Seokjin climbed back into the car, his mind already racing with plans.

Seokjin arrived at the mall and let out a small sigh of relief. It was a bit of normalcy amid the chaos that had become his life. He instructed the driver to wait outside and stepped in, taking in the bright lights and busy atmosphere. Before heading to the repair shop, he wandered aimlessly through a few stores.

He found himself in a clothing boutique and looked at the racks of overpriced outfits. Seokjin chuckled to himself, though most of the outfits screamed, Look at me, I’m rich and important. He didn’t buy anything, of course, but browsing helped calm his nerves a little.

Finally, he made his way to the repair shop and handed over the phone. The technician promised it would be ready in about 30 minutes as he question him about his personal details to make sure he's the right owner of the phone.

He found a quaint coffee shop tucked into a quieter corner of the mall. The warm lighting and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee were inviting. After scanning the menu, he ordered a cappuccino and a slice of tiramisu. The coffee was rich and creamy, and the tiramisu was light and perfectly sweet.

As he settled into a seat by the window, he pulled out his freshly fixed phone, bracing himself for whatever secrets it might hold.

The first name that popped up in his chat history was Max.

The texts revealed a so-called "best friend," but Seokjin quickly realized Max wasn’t much of a friend at all.

“Party tonight. You gotta come—everyone’s waiting for the star of the show!”

“LMAO, that guy last night was so pathetic. Did you see his face when I spilled my drink on him?”

“We’ll hit the club. Life’s short, man!”

Seokjin’s expression darkened as he scrolled further. Max seemed like the type of person who thrived on chaos, constantly inviting Seokjin to lavish parties while also gossiping about and mocking others.

“Wow,” Seokjin said dryly. “Bad influence doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

There were photos of people from parties, with cruel captions written by Max. It was clear Max enjoyed putting others down for his amusement.

"Great, now I have a bad friend too" Seokjin muttered, taking a sip of his cappuccino. “Seriously, can I have at least one good thing except for wealth?”

He moved on to another contact: Kim Hajun.

The chat history with Hajun made Seokjin’s blood pressure rise.

“Hyung, you have to buy this car. It’s limited edition”

“This watch perfect for you, don’t you think?”

“Hyung, this apartment is an investment. Trust me, you’ll love it!”

It was obvious Hajun saw Seokjin as a walking ATM. The conversations were full of sweet-talking sales pitches, and Seokjin—at least the original one—had fallen for every single one.

The logs revealed a long list of purchases: luxury cars, overpriced watches, and even an entire apartment.

“Unbelievable,” Seokjin mumbled, rubbing his temples. “This guy must think I’m an idiot"

Hajun’s tactics were blatant, yet Seokjin couldn’t stop himself from agreeing to every suggestion. Seokjin made a mental note to least grow a backbone when dealing with him.

“Now I have a cousin to worry about" he muttered, biting off his tiramisu.

His thoughts turned to a memory of signing some documents Hajun had handed him. Seokjin’s stomach twisted.

“Stupid,” he whispered to himself. “I need to figure out what I just signed"

The last set of messages he checked were from his uncle. Unlike Hajun, the uncle’s messages were curt and professional.

“Seokjin, I need your signature on the attached documents. It’s urgent"

“Approve these files and send them to me by tomorrow.”

The exchanges lacked warmth, but it was clear his uncle had significant control over the family business. Every major move required Seokjin’s signature.

“So not only do I have a bad friend and a scammer cousin, but I also have an overbearing uncle who controls everything,” Seokjin muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lovely. Just lovely"

He leaned back in his seat, staring blankly at his phone. The coffee shop buzzed with quiet chatter and the clinking of dishes, but none of it registered. His mind was stuck on the spiraling questions he couldn’t seem to answer.

“The question is, why am I here and not in my own company?” he muttered, drumming his fingers on the table. The past few hours had been a crash course on Seokjin’s life—fragments pieced together from the phone’s messages and files.

Yes, he was the CEO. But what kind of CEO?

“Am I just a figurehead?” he wondered aloud. “Or do I actually have any power here?”

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. From what he’d uncovered so far, the people around him—his uncle, his cousin, and even this Max guy—seemed to wield more control over his life than he did. If he was truly stuck in this world, he needed to find out exactly how much authority he held in his own company.

He opened the phone’s email app, scrolling through the correspondence. Most of the emails were addressed to him, but the tone of the messages left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Approval needed, Mr. Kim"

“Please review the attached documents at your earliest convenience"

“Awaiting your signature for final authorization”

Seokjin frowned. The emails were polite, but they screamed one thing: He wasn’t making the decisions. His role seemed limited to rubber-stamping whatever others decided. His uncle, based on earlier texts and documents, appeared to be running the show.

“So, I’m just a puppet CEO" he muttered, massaging his temples “Perfect. Just perfect"

But if that were true, why wasn’t he actively involved at the company? Shouldn’t even a figurehead CEO make regular appearances? Unless... the real leaders of the company wanted him out of the way. That thought made him sit up straighter.

“That’s it" he decided, draining the last of his cappuccino. “I need to figure out what’s going on in that company. Who’s actually pulling the strings? What decisions are being made in my name?”

He shoved the phone into his pocket and stood up. If he was going to survive in this world, he needed answers—and he wasn’t going to find them by sitting here, wallowing in frustration.

“Good health and a lot of wealth” he muttered to himself “If I’m going to live here, I might as well make it worth it" if he was going to stay in this world, then fine. But he’d do it his way.

Chapter Text

The table could easily seat twelve people, but here he was alone, with only the clinking of silverware on porcelain to keep him company.

“Is this what it costs to be wealthy?” he muttered under his breath, cutting into a perfectly cooked piece of meat. He shook his head. No matter how good the food was, it didn’t fill the void.

“Is the food not to your liking, Young Master?” one of the maids—Wendy, he recalled—asked as she bowed slightly.

Again with the bowing. Did these people not get dizzy with how often they did that? He waved her off. “No, the food is good" he said, taking another bite. But the truth was, he missed Korean food. Not a single dish here even hinted at home not even a side of kimchi. How was that possible in a household this grand?

He glanced up at Wendy. “By the way, do you know where I can find the company’s old documents?”

The maid stood still, blinking at him as if he’d asked something incomprehensible, all while remaining slightly bent at the waist. It was starting to feel awkward.

“Wendy?” he called again, raising an eyebrow.

The maid blinked a few more times, her expression a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place. “You... you know my name Young Master?” she asked hesitantly.

“Huh?” He frowned, setting his fork down. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” Was knowing the name of the person working in his house really that strange?

The maid blinked again, her reaction now bordering on uncomfortable. Seokjin shifted in his seat. What exactly had the previous Seokjin done to these people?

“So?” he said, trying to sound firm as he raised an eyebrow. “Can you answer the question?”

The maid bowed deeper, apologizing profusely. “Ah, yes, Young Master. I believe the old company documents are stored in the study room. Would you like me to retrieve them for you?”

Seokjin chewed thoughtfully on another piece of meat. He felt bad for the way her voice trembled. But this wasn’t his fault, not really—it was this body’s previous owner who had apparently traumatized the household.

“No need" he said finally, waving her off. He’d handle it himself. If he was going to figure out what kind of mess he was in, he needed to start somewhere—and it might as well be the study.

Seokjin sat cross-legged on the floor of the study room, surrounded by scattered documents and blueprints. The soft glow of the desk lamp barely illuminated the piles of papers he had unearthed, but he didn’t stop. His forehead glistened with sweat, evidence of the hours he had spent combing through the company’s history, searching for something tangible to anchor himself in this new world.

One of the folders he opened contained papers dating back fifty years—the very beginning of Kim Corp. The handwritten notes and rough sketches were unlike the polished, impersonal files he had seen elsewhere. These documents were alive with passion and vision. His grandfather’s neat, purposeful handwriting detailed the company’s mission: to create plushies that brought love, comfort, and happiness to their owners.

Seokjin couldn’t help but smile as he sifted through early designs. There were blueprints for plushies ranging from simple plush animals to intricate wooden puzzles. A particular set of drawings caught his eye: a series of whimsical animal-themed toys, each designed to evoke a specific emotion—joy, security, belonging. In the margins of one design, his grandfather had scribbled: “Make it huggable soft fabrics only” Another note read: “Add a squeak for surprise laughter!”

Beside the sketches was a proposal for Kim Corp’s expansion. The vision was bold yet thoughtful, prioritizing innovation without sacrificing the core values of love and happiness. The shareholders’ agreements from that time reflected those principles, ensuring ethical practices and fair treatment of employees.

For a moment, Seokjin felt warm, almost nostalgic, despite the fact these memories weren’t his. The documents painted a picture of a company that had once been deeply personal a labor of love.

Then, tucked between two aging blueprints, he found something that stopped him in his tracks. It was a design for a pink hamster toy with big, goofy eyes and a round body perfect for hugging. Scrawled beside it were notes from his father: “Inspired by my son. Add a soft squeak when squeezed. It his favorite.”

Attached to the design was a small photograph. Seokjin froze as he looked at it. The picture showed a chubby, grinning baby him, or rather the original Seokjin clutching the very same pink hamster plushie in his tiny hands. His toothy smile radiated pure happiness. Behind the photo was a yellowed piece of paper with a handwritten letter.

Dear Son,

May this toy bring you happiness the same way you bring happiness to your mom and dad.

Love you always,
Mom and Dad

Seokjin’s chest tightened as he read the letter, his fingers trembling slightly. The words were simple but carried an overwhelming weight. He stared at the photo again, his eyes lingering on the unguarded joy of baby Seokjin.

Who would have thought that little boy, loved so deeply by his parents, would one day be remembered as a villain? The thought stung. He clenched his jaw, his heart heavy with an ache he didn’t fully understand.

But the warmth didn’t last long. As he continued searching through the documents, he noticed an unsettling gap. After the death of Seokjin’s parents, the records became sparse and clinical. The once-dreamlike vision for Kim Corp seemed to vanish, replaced by cold, impersonal reports. The passion, the creativity, the heart was gone.

Seokjin let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to be a tougher battle than I thought" he muttered. The absence of meaningful records after the tragedy told him everything he needed to know: someone had erased the soul of the company, reducing it to a machine for profit.

He sat back, closing his eyes briefly. “Grandfather, Grandmother, Mother, Father of book Seokjin" he whispered softly “please give me strength for this battle just so you know this is your fight too"

Looking back down at the picture of baby Seokjin, he felt a surge of determination. “Seokjin,” he said aloud, addressing the man whose life he was now living, “I don’t know why I’m here instead of you. But I’ll be damned if I let myself be a shadow of someone else’s success again"

Clutching the photo and the letter, he made a silent vow. If he was going to fight for this legacy, he wouldn’t just restore the company’s greatness he’d honor the love and dreams that built it.

Seokjin paused in front of the towering Kim Corp building. The glass exterior gleamed under the sunlight, reflecting his own sharp image back at him. Seokjin's company. Or mine. Or... whatever, he thought, brushing off the nerves swirling in his stomach. This was his now—or at least for now. That was the point.

As he pushed open the glass doors and strode inside, the air seemed to shift. Conversations stopped, and heads turned as employees froze mid-step, their eyes widening at the sight of him. Seokjin kept his chin up, exuding an air of confidence he didn’t fully feel.

Approaching the receptionist desk, he straightened his suit jacket and fixed his gaze on the flustered woman.

"Is Mr. Kim here? I need to talk to him" he said, his tone crisp and authoritative.

The receptionist blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Do you have an appointment, sir?"

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if insulted. "Do I need an appointment to visit my own company?" he shot back, the edge in his voice enough to send her into a flurry of apologies and a deep bow.

"Forgive me, Young Master Kim! Please, go ahead" she stammered, gesturing toward the elevators.

Seokjin nodded curtly, masking the relief threatening to surface beneath his carefully crafted facade. The "rich spoiled brat" act was working—exactly as planned. He’d painstakingly pieced together the personality of the book’s Seokjin from the files, photos, and video scandal he’d forced himself to endure.

Arrogant. Entitled. A spoiled brat who always got what he wanted, never sparing a thought for anyone else’s feelings.

This was how people saw him, the image they expected. So, this was what he’d give them

But as he entered the elevator and hit the button for the top floor, his mask slipped for a moment. His chest tightened at the thought of meeting his uncle—the man he’d only seen in pictures and mentioned in curt text messages. Would the man see through him? Would he realize he wasn’t really Seokjin?

Shaking his head, he forced the thoughts away. Overthinking wouldn’t help. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as the elevator dinged.

When the doors slid open, he stepped into the plush office lobby. The secretary barely had time to greet him before he pushed open the grand double doors to the CEO's office.

Inside, his uncle sat behind an enormous desk, reviewing documents. The man glanced up briefly, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp.

Seokjin didn’t bother with pleasantries, instead walking over to the leather sofa near the window. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other, the picture of composed arrogance.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Seokjin?" his uncle said finally, his tone cordial but cool.

Seokjin leaned back, resting one arm along the back of the sofa. "I’ll get straight to the point, Uncle. I want a position in this company"

The older man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise before his lips curled into a faint, amused smile. "A position? You?" He shook his head. "I don’t mean to offend, but what do you even know about running a company?"

Seokjin didn’t flinch, meeting his uncle’s gaze head-on. "What I know is that this is my company" he said evenly, letting the words hang in the air.

His uncle’s smile faltered, and his fingers tightened slightly around the pen he was holding before he set it down. "Right. Of course" he said slowly, leaning back in his chair. "On paper, it is. But running a company isn’t about owning it, Seokjin. It takes experience, knowledge, and—"

"Resources," Seokjin interrupted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And last I checked, all the resources of this company are tied to me" He leaned forward slightly. "Let’s not forget—you can’t make any major decisions without my signature. Every deal, every contract—it all comes back to me."

His uncle’s jaw tightened, but he quickly masked his frustration with a chuckle. "What position are you even asking for?"

"Executive Director" Seokjin said, his voice calm but firm.

His uncle’s eyes narrowed. "That’s my son’s position"

Seokjin shrugged, smoothing his suit jacket. "Then your son will have to find another one. Consider yourselves lucky I’m not asking for your position." He paused, letting the words sink in. "For now"

The older man stared at him, his sharp eyes trying to pierce through Seokjin’s facade. "What happened to you?" he asked finally, his tone quieter but tinged with suspicion.

Seokjin grinned, tilting his head. Well, he got shoved into this body by an old lady, learned the original Seokjin was a spoiled villain, and decided he didn’t want to be anyone’s stepping stone in this world too. Of course, he couldn’t say that, so he just shrugged.

"I grew up" he said simply.

His uncle’s lips pressed into a thin line, the silence between them heavy. Finally, he exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair. "Well your grown up phase need to convince the board. They won’t hand you this position just because you demand it"

Seokjin stood, smoothing his jacket and offering a small, confident smile. "Don’t worry, Uncle. I’m not asking for their permission. I’m telling them what’s going to happen"

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the office, his heart pounding but his resolve unshaken. 

The boardroom was stifling. Sharp gazes pierced through Seokjin like arrows, each board member seated with an air of judgment. At the head of the table, his uncle lounged with a smug expression, his fingers drumming lazily against the polished surface. He looked like a man who had already won.

Seokjin’s stomach churned, his palms damp as he gripped the edge of the table. He could feel the familiar weight of panic pressing against his chest, his breaths quickening. Even here, he thought bitterly. Even in this world, I brought my panic attacks with me.

But he couldn't falter not now. The real Seokjin, the one who belonged to this world, would never back down. And if he wanted to survive here, he’d have to embody that arrogant, entitled persona, no matter how much it grated against his instincts.

His cousin, Hajun, broke the silence first. “Hyung,” he began, feigning innocence. “I understand you want a position in the company, but taking my position? Don’t you think that’s a little… unfair?” His tone was pitiful, but the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Seokjin clenched his fists under the table, forcing himself to meet Hajun’s gaze. He remembered the messages Hajun had sent him thinly veiled scams and manipulations. If he hadn't know all of that he might have believed this act.

Alright, play the part, he told himself. He took a shaky inhale, exhaled slowly, and slid on the mask.

“How is taking a position from my own company a bad thing, my dear cousin?” his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as if the weight of their judgment didn’t bother him.

Hajun’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, one of the directors Kang Daniel, a man whose name Seokjin now knew all too well spoke up.

“If you take the position,” Kang Daniel said, his voice firm, “then I’ll be withdrawing my support. I refuse to work under someone so… inexperienced.”

The statement drew murmurs from the table. Seokjin turned to Daniel. He had anticipated this. Hours of poring over company records had revealed the truth: the company was struggling, and Kang Daniel’s “support” was a thinly veiled lifeline for himself, not the company.

“Really?” Seokjin said, tilting his head slightly. “Then by all means, leave. We both know you need this company more than it needs you.”

The room fell silent. Seokjin let his words hang in the air before continuing. “In fact, I’d argue that your presence here has been more of a hindrance than a help. Isn’t that right?” He glanced around the table, his gaze landing on the other directors.

Kang Daniel coughed, his face flushing with embarrassment. Seokjin allowed himself a small, triumphant smile as he caught the subtle clenching of his uncle’s jaw.

Gotcha, he thought. He was tempted to stick out his tongue at them like a child but restrained himself. The real Seokjin wouldn’t do something so undignified.

“And what about you, Seokjin? Don’t you have a reputation to worry about?” his uncle said, leaning back with his arms crossed, a smug grin spreading across his face. “The scandals are all over the news. What will the people say?”

Damn it. Seokjin’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t thought about the pile of scandals that the past Seokjin had racked up—extravagant parties and his infamous temper tantrums. He could feel the blood drain from his face. Across the table, his cousin’s smirk widened as if he could taste victory.

But before Seokjin could formulate a response, a sharp, commanding voice cut through the tension.

“What exactly are you planning for this company, young man?”

The room froze.

Seokjin turned to the source of the voice and faltered. Sitting at the far end of the table was an older woman with piercing eyes that seemed to look straight through him. Her presence was imposing, the kind of authority that silenced even the most arrogant voices in the room.

This wasn’t just another greedy or struggling director. This was the Vice President a powerful investor with ties deeply rooted in the company’s history.

“Vice-President Yoon—” his uncle began, his voice uncharacteristically meek

“I’m not talking to you,” she interrupted, her gaze never leaving Seokjin. “I’m talking to the son of CEO Kim Jiho"

Her words hit him like a thunderclap. Kim Jiho. Book Seokjin father. The weight of her scrutiny pressed down on him, and he felt the mask of confidence he had carefully crafted beginning to crack. He closed his eyes, counting silently. One. Two. Three.

When he opened them again, he straightened his posture and forced himself to speak.

“I want to do it again,” he began, his voice softer than he intended. But as he spoke, the words began to flow. “I want to run this company the way my grandfather and father did. To bring happiness to the people who receive our plushies"

The Vice President’s gaze softened, and for a moment, Seokjin thought he saw a flicker of nostalgia in her eyes.

“What kind of—” one of the directors started, but the Vice President raised her hand, silencing him

“I vote for him” she declared abruptly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The room erupted in stunned silence.

“What?” she said, her sharp eyes sweeping over the stunned board members. “Don’t you think it’s time for him to learn the way this company works? He’s old enough, and this company is rightfully his” She shifted her gaze to Seokjin’s uncle, who looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Proxy CEO?”

The title stung, and his uncle’s jaw clenched. For a long moment, he said nothing, his fists tightening at his sides.

“Do whatever you want” his uncle spat finally, rising from his seat. He stormed out of the room, his son trailing behind him, looking dazed.

Seokjin exhaled shakily, his heart pounding as he turned back to the Vice President.

“Thank you" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve changed,” she observed, tilting her head as she studied him.

His pulse quickened. What did she mean? Did she notice something different about him? Before he could respond, she chuckled lightly.

“It looks good on you,” she said. “Keep it up.” With that, she stood and left the room, her words hanging in the air.

Seokjin sat there, surrounded by silence. The weight of what had just happened started to sink in.

Did he really just do that? he thought, a small, disbelieving smile creeping onto his face. He stood slowly, still in shock. He had done it. For the first time in his life, he had stood up for himself—and with a little help, he’d actually won.

He survive this meeting

And for the first time, he allowed himself to feel proud.

Kim Hajun sent him a death glare as he hefted the box in his arms, his entire demeanor a sharp contrast to the grin plastered across his face the day they first met.

“Hope you’re happy,” Hajun sneered as he stormed past Seokjin, the bitterness in his tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Seokjin didn’t reply, merely watching as his cousin disappeared down the hall, leaving behind what was now his office. Or rather, what used to be Hajun’s office.

Of course, he was happy. How could he not be? The events of the board meeting had proven that Seokjin or Book Seokjin wasn’t someone who could be fooled anymore. He’d taken the first step toward claiming the life that was now his.

He sighed as he stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. The space felt larger than it should have, a little too pristine, too daunting. He ran a hand over the empty desk, the weight of everything finally settling on his shoulders. He knew this was only the beginning. What he’d experienced in the board meeting was just phase one.

Still, it was a victory, no matter how small. He’d stood his ground, and somehow, he’d won.

But as the rush of triumph began to fade, the familiar ache of anxiety crept back in. He leaned against the desk, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. The thought made him grimace. Even in this world, He still have his panic attacks.

It was a reminder he didn’t want but couldn’t ignore. He couldn’t believe that out of all the things to carry into this new life, it had to be that. It felt like a cruel joke.

And yet, in an odd way, it also grounded him. When he looked at his new life the wealth, the power, the luxury it sometimes felt like he was losing himself, bit by bit. The person he was back in his old world, the struggling employee barely scraping by, seemed so far away.

But the panic attacks? They reminded him that somewhere beneath this new exterior, he was still Seokjin.

It was both a comfort and a curse. Comfort because it meant he hadn’t completely changed. Curse because he had to carry that old weight, that same crippling trauma, into a world that demanded confidence and control.

He exhaled shakily and straightened up, glancing around the office.

“This is my life now” he murmured to himself.

And he’d have to face it anxiety, trauma, and all.

Over the past weeks, Seokjin had been neck-deep in work, his days consumed by endless stacks of files and countless papers that required his signature. The life of an Executive Director was far from glamorous—it was demanding, exhausting, and at times, infuriating.

The first thing he learned? His cousin’s previous “work” was an absolute disaster. It was as if Kim Hajun had taken a torch to the department and gleefully watched it burn. Projects were half-finished or abandoned entirely, budgets were grossly inflated with expenses that didn’t make sense, and critical decisions had been delayed for so long that they were now urgent problems.

And the records? An utter mess. Contracts were missing key clauses, invoices were unaccounted for, and there were even a few documents that hinted at shady deals that Hajun had likely pocketed money from. Cleaning up this chaos felt like trying to patch a sinking ship while navigating a storm.

But Seokjin refused to complain. This was his chance to prove that he wasn’t just some spoiled figurehead handed a position out of pity. No he was better than his cousin. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was something deeper, but he wanted to show the board, his uncle, and even himself that he could handle this.

Fixing the mess Hajun had left behind wasn’t easy, but it was oddly satisfying. He poured over each file, each contract, each financial report, determined to understand every detail. He worked late into the night, cross-referencing data, calling in department heads, and unraveling the knots his cousin had tied.

One project in particular stood out—a community partnership initiative meant to donate toys to underprivileged children. Hajun had framed it as a charitable endeavor, but upon closer inspection, Seokjin discovered it was barely functional. Funds were missing, timelines were neglected, and the toys being sent out were cheap, poorly made knockoffs.

He rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He contacted suppliers, negotiated better contracts, and partnered with credible organizations. Slowly, but surely, he was breathing life back into the initiative, determined to make it something his family could be proud of again.

Despite the sleepless nights and the weight of responsibility, Seokjin found himself… thriving. For the first time, he wasn’t just reacting to the world around him he was taking charge of it.

“This is what I should’ve been doing all along,” he muttered to himself one evening, staring at the neatly organized stack of files he’d just completed.

It was far from perfect, and he knew there was still a mountain of work ahead. But as he looked around his office the one he had claimed through sheer determination he felt a flicker of pride.

Maybe it was pride that drove him, maybe it was something else. Either way, one thing was certain: Seokjin wasn’t just here to fill a seat.

He was here to win.

“Okay… I’m coming down" Seokjin murmured into his phone, stifling a yawn as he slumped into the elevator. He could barely keep his eyes open, the long hours at work blurring into an endless haze of exhaustion. He hadn’t even realized how late it was until his driver called to check on him.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the ground floor. Seokjin stepped out, dazed and groggy, his mind too sluggish to register much of anything. He walked toward the exit, the cool night air outside calling to him like a promise of relief.

But before he could make it out, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry” a voice said, gentle and slightly breathless. It was soft, but there was an underlying brightness to it, as though it could easily draw attention without trying.

“It’s okay" Seokjin replied automatically, his eyes shifting toward the person who had spoken.

And then he froze.

All traces of his fatigue vanished, replaced by a jolt of shock so sharp it left him rooted to the spot. Standing before him, bowing in apology, was none other than Park Jimin.

The main character.

Park Jimin straightened up and bowed again, his movements precise and respectful. “I’m sorry" he said once more before stepping away

Seokjin’s legs moved on their own as he trailed after Jimin, his gaze locked onto the back of the man. His mind raced. What was Jimin doing here? Outside his office, of all places? Was he dreaming? Hallucinating from lack of sleep?

He wasn’t dreaming.

The next day, as Seokjin go in the office room, In stepped Park Jimin, looking composed and confident as he bowed deeply.

“Good morning. My name is Park Jimin. I’ll be working as the new assistant to Mr. Kang Daniel" he said with a polite smile, his voice smooth and steady.

The room buzzed with murmurs as the staff exchanged introductions, but Seokjin could only stare at him in disbelief. Park Jimin. Here. In his company.

Is this what they call a butterfly effect?

Seokjin rubbed his face in frustration. Somehow, the choices he’d made the boardroom takeover, ousting his cousin had sent Jimin down this path. A path that still led dangerously close to him.

Through the glass window of his office, he watched Jimin mingling with the staff, his presence effortlessly lighting up the room. Jimin smiled warmly, shaking hands and bowing slightly as he spoke to each person. The man really was the main character he had that glow, that made people gravitate toward him.

Seeing Jimin in person was bizarre. He was no longer a name on the pages of a book but a living, breathing individual, radiating charm and sincerity. His very presence seemed to put people at ease, even Seokjin, who was still trying to process the situation.

But then a thought struck him.

Isn’t this a good thing?

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, considering the possibilities. If Jimin was here, working under Kang Daniel, it meant he wasn’t a direct threat at least, not yet. And it also meant Seokjin didn’t have to follow the original storyline. He didn’t have to mistreat Jimin like the villain in the book.

Most importantly, this might prevent Jeon Jungkook, the male lead, from pulling his investment and ultimately killing him.

Seokjin nodded to himself, his resolve solidifying. “Yup. Totally good,” he muttered under his breath.

He glanced back at Jimin, who was still smiling and chatting with a group of employees. This was fine. This was good.

If he played his cards right, he could change the story. And he could survive this.

Seokjin really shouldn’t have said anything. The moment he thought everything would be fine, he jinxed it.

Over the past week, he couldn’t help but notice something disturbing. Kang Daniel was mistreating Jimin badly. It started with raised voices during meetings, then escalated to shouting at Jimin over the smallest mistakes. On more than one occasion, Seokjin had seen Daniel toss papers at Jimin in frustration, his tone dripping with condescension.

And today was no different.

Seokjin stood by the hallway, unnoticed, as Kang Daniel berated Jimin yet again. His voice echoed through the office, sharp and cutting.

“I told you to get this done yesterday! Do you even know what you’re doing?” Daniel shouted, slamming his hand on the desk.

Jimin flinched, his hands gripping the papers in front of him tightly. “I—I’m sorry, sir. I’ll fix it right away.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix incompetence!” Daniel snapped, his face a mask of frustration. Then, in a sudden burst of rage, he raised his hand as if to slap Jimin.

Seokjin’s breath caught. For a split second, he froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

But then Daniel hesitated. His eyes darted to the side, and he caught sight of Seokjin standing just a few feet away. The air in the room shifted, thick with tension.

Without a word, Daniel lowered his hand and straightened his posture. He glared at Jimin one last time before storming off, leaving an awkward, suffocating silence in his wake.

Jimin stood there, frozen, his head bowed in embarrassment. Slowly, he turned to Seokjin, his cheeks flushed red.

“I’m sorry” Jimin mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He gave a quick bow, clutching the papers to his chest, and hurried after Kang Daniel without waiting for a response.

His jaw tightened as he watched Jimin retreat down the hall.

So this is how it is.

No matter what Seokjin did to change the story, Jimin was still getting hurt. Not because of him directly, but because of other people. Kang Daniel, the greedy, spiteful excuse of a man, had simply taken over the role of tormentor.

Seokjin let out a slow, shaky breath, his mind racing. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had hoped that by staying out of Jimin’s way and avoiding the original story’s plot points, he could make things better for both of them. But all he’d done was shift the abuse onto someone else.

Seokjin sat in his car, his head leaning back against the headrest, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows. His thoughts were a mess, swirling around the events of the past week.

Should he do something about Kang Daniel and Jimin?

He frowned, drumming his fingers against his lap. It wasn’t his problem technically. Jimin wasn’t his employee, and Kang Daniel’s behavior, as despicable as it was, wasn’t directed at him. He had no obligation to get involved.

He sighed, glancing out the window. That was when he saw them.

Kang Daniel and Jimin.

"Stop the car for a second" he told the driver 

Daniel had his arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders, his grin wide and smug as he leaned into the younger man. Jimin looked uncomfortable, his posture stiff as they walked toward the entrance of a club, its neon sign glowing like a beacon in the night.

Seokjin’s brows furrowed. A nightclub?

“What the—” he muttered under his breath, watching them disappear inside.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Not my business” he told himself firmly. “Their business is not my business.”

Yet, even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest. Jimin looked so out of place next to Daniel, and the guilt bubbling inside Seokjin only made it worse.

Maybe Jimin wouldn’t even be here if he'd hired him as his butler, like in the original story, Seokjin thought bitterly. This is my fault, isn’t it?

The thought made him curse under his breath as he opened the car door and stepped out. He wasn’t planning to interfere just to check. Make sure Jimin was okay, and then leave.

The club was loud and chaotic, the thrum of bass reverberating through the floor and into his chest. Pulsing neon lights painted the room in shades of pink, blue, and green, casting flickering shadows over the writhing crowd on the dance floor. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and cheap cologne, the atmosphere charged with an energy that felt both intoxicating and suffocating.

Seokjin pushed his way through the crowd, his sharp suit and stiff demeanor drawing curious glances. He didn’t belong here, and he knew it. But that didn’t stop him from scanning the room, his eyes searching for a familiar face.

The club’s atmosphere was suffocating. Each booth was veiled by heavy curtains, shielding whatever questionable activities were happening behind them. The pounding music drowned out most sounds, but as Seokjin weaved through the crowded space, a muffled voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Sir, please stop. I didn’t get this job for this,” came a trembling voice.

Familiar.

“Oh, come on. If you want to keep your job, you’d better do what I tell you. Use that body of yours" sneered another voice, smug and condescending

Seokjin’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice.

Without thinking, he yanked the curtain aside. The scene inside made his blood boil.

Kang Daniel sat leisurely with a drink in one hand, his other arm draped over Jimin’s shoulder. His hand rested dangerously low on Jimin’s waist, and the younger man’s face was pale, his wide, teary eyes darting toward Seokjin.

Kang Daniel turned, clearly irritated by the interruption. “Seokjin? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seokjin’s voice was sharp, cold. “I should be the one asking you that. What are you doing?"

Daniel scoffed, his expression twisting with disbelief. “None of your business, now kindly fuck off"

Seokjin ignored him, his focus shifting to Jimin, who sat frozen, his hands fidgeting nervously. “You,” Seokjin said, pointing directly at him. “You applied to be my butler, right?”

Jimin blinked, confusion flashing across his face, but he nodded hesitantly.

“Then you’re hired,” Seokjin declared without missing a beat and without thinking. “Now, choose. Me or him"

Jimin didn’t hesitate. He immediately stood and walked over to Seokjin’s side, keeping his head low.

Daniel slammed his glass onto the table, his frustration boiling over. “You can’t just take my assistant, Seokjin!”

Seokjin smirked, his eyes glinting with icy determination. “I just did.”

He stepped closer to Daniel, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper as he leaned in. “And Daniel… I expect a resignation letter on my desk by tomorrow. Unless you’d like me to tell your wife about your little escapades here"

Daniel’s face paled, his confident facade cracking. He opened his mouth as if to retort but quickly closed it, his jaw tightening.

Seokjin straightened, crossing his arms. “Didn’t think so,” he said smugly before turning on his heel.

He strode out of the booth, Jimin trailing close behind. The younger man glanced back nervously but quickly looked forward as Seokjin led the way through the bustling club.

They stepped out of the club, the cool night air a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere they had just left. The city lights shimmered around them, but Seokjin’s focus was on the man walking beside him.

“Thank you" Jimin said quietly, his voice trembling slightly.

Seokjin turned toward him, noting the slight tremor in Jimin’s hands. “Why didn’t you resign?” The words slipped out sharper than he meant.  He scratched his head, cursing under his breath. Have he been living with this Seokjin body long enough to adopt his nasty attitude? “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Jimin said, his voice strained but polite. “I can’t resign because I need the money this is my last shot" His gaze lowered, and Seokjin could almost feel the embarrassment radiating off him.

Of course, Seokjin thought. The classic main character problem.

Seokjin took a deep breath, softening “Come on, let’s take you home.”

“There’s no need—” Jimin started, but Seokjin interrupted.

“It’s getting late,” Seokjin insisted. “And who knows what Kang Daniel may do to you.”

The mention of Kang Daniel’s name made Jimin flinch slightly, his face falling. “Ah, yes…” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Seokjin frowned, the weight of Jimin’s expression hanging heavily between them. Poor guy.

The car ride was quiet. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional flick of the windshield wipers. Seokjin glanced over at Jimin, who stared out the window, lost in thought. The silence in the car was suffocating, but Seokjin couldn’t shake the guilt that gnawed at him.

Is this all he's fault?

He had just wanted to protect himself. But now he wasn’t sure what was right anymore. If he had been just a second too late tonight, what could’ve happened to Jimin? The thought of the young man being hurt made Seokjin’s chest tighten with guilt.

His thoughts were interrupted when the car came to a stop. Seokjin blinked and glanced out the window, confused. Instead of a cozy apartment or a small house, he saw the unmistakable neon sign of an internet cafe.

“Is this an internet cafe?” Seokjin asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah, I’ve been living here,” Jimin replied, almost nonchalantly.

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “You don’t have a home?”

The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and the moment he realized how blunt they sounded, he waved his hand in a panic. “I didn’t mean—”

Jimin just chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s really okay. My aunt says I’m old enough to live on my own, so here I am"

So, Jimin got kicked out? Seokjin didn’t know how to process it. Was this because he didn’t hire Jimin as a butler like in the original story? He had so many questions, but right now, there was something he needed to do. “Take us home” he told the driver, his voice firm.

The driver nodded and started the engine.

Jimin glanced at him, confused. “Where are we going?”

“My house,” Seokjin said nonchalantly.

“Why?”

“Because my house is big, and I need a butler to help me with the house and office stuff.” He shrugged, trying to sound unaffected.

Jimin looked at him, his gaze filled with curiosity, probably wondering why someone like Seokjin would bother helping him. The silence stretched long enough that Seokjin thought the question wouldn’t come, but then Jimin spoke.

“Why are you helping me?”

The question hit harder than Seokjin expected. Why was he helping Jimin? Was it guilt? A sense of obligation? He didn’t have a clear answer. Instead, he said something he knew the book’s Seokjin would say, lifting his chin with a practiced arrogance.

“Because I can. If you don’t like it and would rather stay in that cramped internet café than a beautiful mansion, then get out of the car" he challenged, his voice cold and sharp. But inside, panic twisted in his chest he had no idea what he’d do if Jimin actually took him up on the offer.

Jimin stared at him for a moment before a small smile broke across his face. “You’re right. A house does sound nicer than an internet café. But I’ll need to go back tomorrow to get my things"

“Fine. My driver will take you there" Seokjin said briskly, cutting off any potential protests as he raised an eyebrow, daring Jimin to argue.

Jimin just laughed, light and genuine, and said, “Alright" Then, turning his head to look out the window, he quietly added, “Thank you"

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply nodded, letting the moment pass.

The rest of the ride was silent, a strange sort of calm settling between them as the car drove toward Seokjin’s house.

When they arrived, Jimin’s eyes went wide as he stepped out, taking in the grand estate. Seokjin couldn’t help but smile a little he remembered his own reaction when he first arrived in this place. It felt nice knowing Jimin shared that same awe.

“Welcome, Young Master” the maid greeted with a bow, as she always did.

“Clean a room for him. He’s going to stay here now"

The maid immediately nodded and began guiding Jimin inside. Jimin looked back at Seokjin, his expression a mix of confusion and panic, clearly not used to this kind of treatment. Seokjin understood, though. It wasn’t something he’d gotten used to either. But right now, it was the least he could do.

As the maid led Jimin away, Seokjin sighed. He need a plan.

Chapter Text

Seokjin had every intention of avoiding the main character altogether, but that plan is now crumbled.

The first few days were awkward painfully so. Seokjin wasn’t used to having someone hover around him, and Jimin wasn’t sure where to draw the line. They tiptoed around each other, unsure of what was acceptable or expected. But as time passed, Seokjin began to notice something remarkable: Jimin was really good at his job.

Jimin managed his schedules with the precision of a military strategist, ensured the household ran smoothly, and somehow made Seokjin’s overwhelming workload feel manageable. The maids, who had once been terrified to even breathe in his presence, now laughed and chatted while they worked. They no longer flinched when Seokjin walked by, and their voices no longer trembled when they spoke to him.

Seokjin didn’t know what kind of magic Jimin did, but it was undeniable. The household felt... lighter. Less suffocating.

For the first time since waking up in this world, Seokjin felt like he could rely on someone. Maybe it was because Jimin was the protagonist, the kind of person everyone naturally gravitated toward, but Seokjin couldn’t help but think this was the right call.

And as much as Seokjin wanted to question why the original book Seokjin had treated Jimin so poorly, the answer came to him quickly. Jealousy. The book Seokjin had been in love with Jungkook, and Jimin was destined to be with him. Of course, as usual the role of the jealous villain Seokjin had lashed out at the person who symbolized everything he couldn’t have.

But this Seokjin? Oh, he had no intention of getting involved in their romance.

He had a plan a brilliant plan, if he said so himself. Treat Jimin well, so when the male lead eventually came into the picture, Jimin would have nothing but glowing things to say about him. Jungkook would hear about how kind and accommodating Seokjin was, and he’d spare Seokjin’s life and even invest more in his company.

Seokjin smirked to himself. Great mind, Seokjin. Totally flawless.

Of course, all plans sounded better in theory. But for now, he’d ride the wave of this newfound partnership with Jimin. As far as he was concerned, keeping the main character happy was the key to his survival.

If there was one thing Seokjin knew, it was in romance novels. Chaebol male leads had a type: unwavering loyalty and love to one person. And that person was Jimin. All Seokjin had to do was stay on the good side of the main character, and he could secure both his life and his company. What could possibly go wrong?

Of course he jinxed it again. The universe apparently had a personal vendetta against him because right now, Seokjin was sitting in his uncle’s office, listening to the most terrifying words he'd heard since getting isekai'd into this world.

“What?” Seokjin's voice came out an octave higher than intended, his stomach dropping.

His uncle raised an eyebrow, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “I said, Jeon Jungkook wants to meet with you. At his company.”

“Me? Why?” Seokjin’s panic seeped into his voice. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” Yet, he thought.

His uncle’s grin widened, his expression practically dripping with malice. “He wants to meet the new executive director. Since you fought so hard to claim your position, he wants to see if you’re as competent as you claim to be"

The jab made Seokjin’s stomach churn.

The older man leaned back in his chair, hands steepled, clearly reveling in Seokjin’s visible discomfort. “Let’s see if you’re better than my son”

That comment snapped Seokjin out of his spiraling thoughts. He glared at his uncle “It’s obviously me. Do you have any idea how many messes your son left behind as the previous executive director? I’ve been cleaning them up for weeks!”

His uncle scoffed, his tone sharp. “Then prove it. Tomorrow, 10 a.m., at Jeon Enterprises. Jungkook’s expecting you.”

Seokjin took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He wasn’t about to give his uncle the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. He straightened his posture, giving a curt nod.

“Alright. I’ll go"

His uncle’s smirk only grew wider as Seokjin left the office. And as much as he hated to admit it, the man had successfully planted a seed of dread in Seokjin’s chest. Meeting Jeon Jungkook—the Jeon Jungkook—wasn’t just terrifying because of his reputation as a cold, calculating CEO. It was because Seokjin already knew how the end was supposed to go in the book: terribly.

As he walked out of the office, Seokjin muttered under his breath, “I should’ve stayed in bed today”

What to do? What to do? Seokjin wasn't ready to meet Jungkook yet—no, no, not at all. Sure, he knew they’d eventually have to meet, but not so soon. He wasn’t prepared for this meet up.

He sat at his desk, overthinking every possible scenario when Jimin entered, holding a neat stack of files. “Sir, here are the documents you’ll need later" Jimin said, placing them on his desk with his usual polite demeanor.

Seokjin glanced at the files, then at Jimin. A thought struck him—was it okay to let Jungkook and Jimin meet earlier than planned? In the book, Jungkook’s first meeting with Seokjin had gone terribly, thanks to Book Seokjin’s history of being awful to Jimin. But this was different, wasn’t it? He’d been treating Jimin well. Maybe if Jungkook saw how Jimin was thriving under his care, it would make Jungkook less hostile.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. If anyone could soften an intimidating male lead, it was of course the main character.

“Jimin,” Seokjin said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re coming with me to Jeon Enterprises tomorrow"

Jimin blinked, tilting his head slightly. “Of course, sir. I’m your assistant.”

“Right,” Seokjin said, nodding firmly. “Of course you are.”

It was a good plan. It had to be. What could go wrong when the two main characters of the story were in the same room? Seokjin took a deep breath, already trying to mentally prepare himself for the chaos tomorrow would undoubtedly bring.

What’s it like meeting the person destined to kill you? Seokjin couldn’t even describe how nervous he felt. His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty, and his thoughts were a chaotic jumble of What ifs.

“Jimin, stay by my side" he muttered under his breath

“Yes, sir” Jimin replied, his calm presence grounding him just slightly.

The interior of Jeon Enterprises was every bit as intimidating as its reputation—sleek, modern, and coldly efficient. The walls were a pristine white accented with sharp black designs, and the floors gleamed like polished glass. Employees moved with purpose, each one impeccably dressed and carrying an air of strict professionalism.

Seokjin barely had time to take it all in when the receptionist greeted him. The name tag on his blazer read Yoongi. He bowed slightly, his posture perfect and practiced. “Good morning, Mr. Kim. Sir Jeon is waiting for you inside.”

Seokjin’s stomach dropped. Already?

He glanced at Jimin, his silent lifeline. There’s no way I’m going in there alone.

“Alone" Yoongi added, his tone polite but firm, as though reading his thoughts.

Seokjin’s turn back on Yoongi brows furrowed. “Is there a reason why?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady

“He wants to speak to you privately,” he replied, bowing slightly again.

Privately? Of course Jungkook wanted to corner him alone. That man had probably already sized him up, judged him based on the disaster book Seokjin had done.

Seokjin kept his expression composed, giving Jimin a curt nod that screamed authority. “Wait here" he instructed, gesturing subtly.

Jimin, ever the obedient assistant, nodded back, but his eyes lingered a moment longer, filled with concern. If Seokjin weren’t so preoccupied, he might’ve laughed at how Jimin looked at him as though he were a father leaving his child in the middle of a wolf-infested forest.

As he followed Yoongi down the pristine hallway, his mind raced. Why does Jungkook want to meet him? He racked his brain, but nothing surfaced. He had kept his head down since taking on this role, avoiding anything that might draw the male lead’s attention.

Then his thoughts shifted. The only memories he could recall involving Jungkook were the ones from the book. He had read about Book Seokjin’s pitiful, desperate attempts to get Jungkook to notice him stolen glances in meetings, lingering stares during social events, and calculated moments of clumsy charm that Jungkook had brushed off without a second thought.

Book Seokjin was always waiting for Jungkook to notice him.

And maybe that was the problem.

Book Seokjin wanted to be noticed, craved it, reveled in the idea of catching Jungkook’s attention.

But Seokjin wasn’t him. And he'll be pissed if that’s what this is about

Ahead, a door loomed large, dark, and imposing, just like the man who waited behind it. Yoongi stopped, giving him a polite smile as he gestured toward the handle.

“Sir Jeon is ready for you.”

Seokjin took a deep breath. You’ve got this. You’re not Book Seokjin. And whatever Jungkook wants, you’ll handle it. He reached for the door, his hand steady, and pushed it open. Inside, the office was the epitome of a chaebol CEO’s domain: sleek, modern, and intimidating. The polished marble floors gleamed under soft recessed lighting, and the expansive windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A large mahogany desk sat at the far end, meticulously organized, with a single chair facing it undoubtedly meant for anyone brave enough to sit across from Jeon Jungkook.

Except… Jungkook wasn’t at the desk.

“Great to see you, Mr. Kim”

The smooth voice firm yet laced with quiet authority came from behind him.

Startled, Seokjin let out a high-pitched yelp, leaping forward while clutching his ear. His free hand reflexively flew into the air, throwing a few clumsy punches in a weak attempt at self-defense. His heart pounded in his chest as he spun around, only to lock eyes with the source of his near heart attack.

Jeon Jungkook.

The man stood casually, his hands in his pockets, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders and lean figure. His cold, piercing doe eyes scrutinized Seokjin as though he were an anomaly under a microscope.

Seokjin froze, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look. Flustered, he quickly straightened his posture and cleared his throat, his ears burning with embarrassment. “S-same as well, Mr. Jeon” he stammered.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, before moving forward with quiet, deliberate steps. He exuded a quiet intensity that made the room feel smaller. Without another word, he walked past Seokjin and seated himself behind his imposing desk, folding his hands as he stared across the room.

“I heard you’re the new executive director,” Jungkook began, his tone even but cutting. “Don’t you think, as one of the company’s biggest investors, I deserve to know the person I’m trusting my money with?”

Seokjin swallowed hard. The way Jungkook’s eyes bore into him felt like a spotlight shining on every flaw he had. “O-of course,” he stuttered, trying to salvage his dignity. “I was planning to tell you"

Jungkook tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Really? When?”

Seokjin winced. Probably never. But he couldn’t say that, obviously. Instead, he forced a confident smile. “I just wanted to ensure I was the rightful executive director first, Mr. Jeon" he said, hoping it sounded sincere.

Jungkook sat leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “You know,” he began, his voice smooth yet edged with condescension, “I read your file. Sent by your uncle"

Seokjin tensed, already dreading where this was going.

“You have quite a lot of scandals, don’t you?” Jungkook’s words were cutting, like a blade purposefully testing his limits.

Seokjin’s jaw tightened, but he kept his posture steady. “I admit I have,” he replied, his voice firm. “But those scandals don’t define me or the work I’ve done in my job.”

Jungkook tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “And what exactly have you done then?”

For a moment, Seokjin’s calm facade wavered, frustration bubbling to the surface. This guy… He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms to keep his temper in check. But his patience snapped just enough to let his annoyance show.

“Why don’t you look at it yourself, Mr. Jeon?” Seokjin countered, his voice laced with quiet defiance.

The air in the room seemed to shift. Jungkook’s raised eyebrow conveyed a mix of intrigue and irritation. His scrutinizing gaze bore into Seokjin as though trying to dissect his resolve, but Seokjin didn’t back down. He wasn’t going to let this man intimidate him. Sure, Jungkook might have been the reason for book Seokjin’s death, but the real Seokjin wasn’t about to fold under his scrutiny.

Finally, Jungkook leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk. “I see,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I guess I’ll have to find out for myself, won’t I?”

Before Seokjin could respond, Jungkook’s cold, calculating demeanor returned. “Now then,” he continued, his voice cool and professional. “What does the new executive director have to offer to the CEO?”

Seokjin took a deep breath, his mind scrambling for connections between toys and perfumes that would sound compelling. "Our companies might seem like they operate in entirely different worlds," he began, keeping his voice as steady as possible, "but in reality, we both thrive on appealing to emotions—nostalgia, joy, and the ability to create lasting memories."

Jungkook's sharp gaze never wavered. Seokjin felt the weight of it, but he pressed on. "Think about it: toys are often associated with childhood memories. They're not just products; they carry sentimental value. Perfumes, in their own way, do the same thing. A single fragrance can transport someone to a cherished moment or a specific feeling."

"And?" Jungkook prompted, his tone flat, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of intrigue.

Seokjin shifted his weight but maintained eye contact. "By working together, we could create a marketing campaign that bridges these worlds. Imagine a product launch where a signature perfume is paired with a collectible figurine or a storybook for families—creating a multi-generational brand experience. Parents associate the scent with bonding moments with their children, while kids grow up remembering the connection."

Jungkook's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing, waiting for more.

Seokjin continued, now gaining confidence. "And let’s not forget the crossover opportunities in packaging design. Our design team specializes in vibrant, engaging visuals. We could help your brand explore bold, innovative designs that stand out, appealing to younger demographics or even introducing a playful side to luxury."

He finally stopped, his pulse quickening as silence filled the room. Jungkook’s gaze burned into him, assessing every word he’d just said.

"Interesting," Jungkook said after a long pause, his voice even, betraying nothing. "But none of that will matter if your scandals overshadow your so-called innovation. How do I know your reputation won't ruin my company?"

Seokjin could feel his body tense, the weight of Jungkook’s words pressing down on him like a physical force. The sting of the scandals hit again, deeper this time. It wasn’t just the words that hurt; it was the fact that Jungkook, and maybe everyone around him, seemed to define him by that. The scandals. As if that was all he was. As if he couldn’t move beyond it. But it wasn’t him. It was the character, belonged to the version of him from this damned book.

Jungkook's harsh voice broke through his thoughts, making Seokjin flinch. “You do know one scandal can affect the company, right? And from what I’ve heard, you have more than one"

The words hit harder than they should have. Seokjin clenched his fists, holding back the wave of anger and hurt that threatened to drown him. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him, he reminded himself. It was the character from the book. He wasn’t the same as Book Seokjin. He was trying to be better, to do better. But none of that mattered. He was still the scandalous Seokjin in Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook's voice cut through the air again “If you have nothing to say, get out of my sight" his eyes bored into him, waiting for a response. But Seokjin couldn’t give him one—not at first. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. The frustration of it all nearly made him give in, to turn around and walk away, but just as he was about to, Jungkook's voice sliced through the silence again.

“Pathetic"

The word hit him like a cold bucket to the face. It was enough. His chest tightened with rising fury. His mind, racing with the anger and indignation of it all, sparked a challenge that he knew he would regret, but at that moment, he couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t going to let this man—this arrogant CEO—belittle him like that.

He turned on his heel, locking eyes with Jungkook. "Since you seem to care so much about the company, and you’ve taken the time to be concerned about my uncle’s behalf, then you must know how my cousin operates" Seokjin shot back, his voice steady despite the boiling anger beneath it. “You know how he manipulates everything to get ahead, right? He’s not exactly the golden child you think he is" he took a step forward, his confidence growing, a fire that he hadn’t realized he still had igniting in his chest. "But sure, let’s talk about my scandals" 

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at his challenge, but Seokjin didn’t flinch. Enough was enough. He had to fight back.

“Give me a week” Seokjin declared, voice firm, resolute. “And you’ll see how this ‘pathetic’ guy works. I’ll show you that I’m the perfect choice for this position. You won’t even have to worry about my scandals"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hard as he assessed Seokjin. There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice colder than before. “It better be worth my time"

Seokjin took a deep breath, his body still buzzing with frustration, but he managed to push a smile onto his face. It was forced, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “Of course, Mr. Jeon. All the best for you"

He felt Jungkook’s gaze on him. The tension between them felt almost palpable, and for a split second, Seokjin swore he saw something else in Jungkook’s eyes—amusement? A flicker of something that made Seokjin second-guess everything. But before he could analyze it further, it was gone, replaced by the same cold, distant look. Jungkook waved him off to leave, a gesture that only made Seokjin’s blood boil more.

Seokjin shook his head as he walked away, the frustration rising with every step. Pathetic? He scoffed inwardly. “Does he even know what it’s like to live with someone else’s body?” He gritted his teeth, the thoughts swirling in his mind. Jungkook killed Seokjin in the book? At this rate, it seemed like Seokjin might be the one to do the killing. And when that happened, it would be because Jungkook’s pride had pushed him too far.

No one called him pathetic and got away with it.