The rain hadn’t come, but the city still felt soaked in regret. Seoul was silent at 2:47 AM, except for the low hum of engines passing by Han River Bridge and the neon buzz of signs that never slept.

At the corner of Gangnam, tucked between two commercial skyscrapers, stood Club MIRAGE, a place once known for its outrageous Friday nights, its champagne-stained floors, and viral dance cams. But tonight, it was empty. Because someone had bought the entire place out, for one night only.

The man was tall. Broad shoulders, sharp cheekbones, silver-dusted black hair styled too perfectly for someone so drunk. He walked in like the silence owed him something. Lim Seohyun. Age 35, Alpha, CEO of JINRIX CORPORATION, the tech giant now fronting Korea’s most anticipated electric car line, EonV. A cold, quiet man. Efficient. Dead serious. His board called him the robot with a heartbeat. His ex-sugar baby once called him Daddy Iceberg though never to his face.

"Sir, you sure you want the whole building?" the club manager asked again, eyebrows raised, already holding the keycard and calculating how many zeros he just saw on the transfer.

Seohyun didn’t look at him. "I don’t want noise. Or people. Just the music."

He waved his hand, and the manager took the hint. As he exited, he flicked off the main lights, leaving Seohyun to the LED strobes and the glowing bar. The music was already cued.

That song.

"깨물어 버리고 싶은 새빨간 사과처럼"

His favorite. His shame.

EXID’s I Love You pulsed through the speakers like a heartbeat that had learned to beg. The pre-chorus hit like a wave of heat.

"Baby, 넌 위험해, 위험해, 그렇게 나를 보면 I can't hold it anymore"

Seohyun sat at the center of the velvet booth, drink untouched at first. Then another. And another. One hand around the glass, the other gripping his phone like it might forgive him. He hadn’t texted in a year. Not since the night he kicked the boy out.

"You talk too much. You’re too needy.""This was just a transaction. Don’t forget that.""You’re getting in the way." All the things he had said. All the things he never meant.

He tapped the screen.

Seohyun: I love you, even though I said I wouldn’t. I told myself I’d forget you... but here I am again. I know you don’t love me anymore. But please... let me pretend, just one night. I don’t want anything. I just want you to look at me again. The way you used to.

He didn’t know if the message delivered. He didn’t even know if the number was still active. But it didn’t stop him. Glass clinked again. The chorus played louder. He could barely focus, but the lyrics stabbed perfectly. This wasn’t heartbreak. This was exposure.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath. His voice cracked.

A memory flickered. His Omega, curled on the couch, laughing over a stupid idol variety show, pestering him to taste instant ramen, humming every song off-key. Back then, Seohyun didn’t smile. But he watched. God, he watched so closely.

He had called it an inconvenience. An emotional mess. A distraction. But in truth, he was terrified. Terrified that something so warm could leave him. So he made sure it did. Now here he was. Drunk in an empty club. CEO of an empire.

But no better than a man begging in the dark. A bouncer peeked in after an hour, unsure if he should interrupt. "Sir... it’s almost morning."

Seohyun didn’t move. His tie was loose, his coat tossed aside. "Leave the music on," he said. "Just the music."

The bass dropped again. Lights danced across the floor. But none of it reached him. He was somewhere else, between memory and regret, between cold hands and a warm goodbye he never said properly. He didn't need forgiveness. He just needed that smile one last time.

Even if it was only through a song that nobody listened to anymore. Even if it made him pathetic. Even if nobody ever texted back.