RM 07

Chapter 7

It was more astonishing than she had anticipated—no, even imagined. A kiss. She already knew that a kiss wasn’t just about lips touching lips, but when his unexpected breath suddenly swept in, Bobae felt her mind drift away into a haze.

She had held a man’s hand for the first time just yesterday, and today she was kissing him. The progression… was way too fast. Ever since she was young, she had been called a prodigy, skipped grades, and even graduated early from university, but a progression this fast was a first. It felt like a storm.

Having just finished surgery that morning, the man’s lips were quite rough, but the breath with which he swept across Bobae’s lips was as soft and smooth as desert sand, making her feel as though she were being irresistibly pulled right in.

It fluttered like a spring breeze, burned like midsummer sunlight, felt as refreshing as autumn air, and made her heart flutter like the very first snow. A kiss was truly a mesmerizing and heart-thumping thing. Just like Director Jang said, it felt like her heart was dropping with a thud to the floor, and her entire body was tingling. So this was what that feeling was like. This kind of feeling…

Right then, as they breathlessly exchanged breaths between inhales and exhales—

“Is your writing not cutting it, so you’re throwing your body at people?” “I have zero interest in a pitiful, impoverished figure like yours.” “Don’t lust after my body with such rotten thoughts. It makes me sick to my stomach.” “Ten-meter distance limit!”

Baek Horang’s “four-piece set of harsh remarks” flashed through her mind.

Instantly coming to her senses, Bobae shoved Horang away and slapped his cheek. Smack! A sharp sound rang through the air. “What do you think you’re doing?” Bobae asked fiercely.

Massaging his stinging cheek, Horang replied, “Give.” “What give? What kind of give? Don’t tell me you’re thinking, ‘Here, have a kiss,’ and acting like you’re bestowing charity just because I’ve never kissed before?” “Is it your first kiss?” “Who said it was my first?” “You just said it was your first a moment ago.” “Me? Ha! I’ve done it plenty of times, okay? I’m a master of kissing. My kisses melt men away like candle wax.” “It didn’t feel like that.” “What did you say?”

As Bobae bristled with anger, Horang’s lips loomed large in her vision. Seeing those moist, red lips seemed to bring the sensation from just moments before vividly back to life. Her face flushing hot, Bobae hurriedly changed the subject. “Ah, whatever about that. Why did you suddenly kiss me?” “Didn’t you say it was give-and-take?” “Ah, that give.”

Watching Bobae mutter to herself, Horang let out a soft scoff. Just a moment ago she had been glaring at him with murderous intent, but once he explained the situation, she became obedient again. He had thought she was an unreasonability-driven psycho, but she had a surprisingly cute side to her. Well, of course, that had nothing to do with him whatsoever.

“Wasn’t a kiss what you wanted from me?” “Absolutely not!” “Well, I thought that since you begged me to kiss you the moment we first met, that must be what you wanted.” “That was because of circumstances…” “I don’t care to hear about your circumstances. Anyway, I’ve given, so now it’s time to take, right?”

With a smug curve to the corners of his lips, Horang spoke confidently, as if he had already secured victory. However, there was one thing he overlooked: whether he was giving or donating, the initiative was firmly in Bobae’s hands, and she wasn’t the type to roll over easily.

“That’s not going to work.” “Why?” “Because it’s not what I want!” “What?” “I’m refusing this donation—no, this give!” “You begged me to do it, and when I reluctantly forced myself to do something I didn’t want to do, you’re refusing?” “Who begged?! And who said it was any good? That was honestly the worst kiss I’ve ever had in my life!” “Didn’t you just say it was your first kiss?” “Didn’t you hear me say I’m a master of kissing?” “I thought you were a kiss psycho?” “Keep talking like that and you might find yourself pushed past the ten-meter mark.”

As Bobae took large strides to distance herself from him, Horang pulled her IV pole toward his side. That caused Bobae’s hand to lightly brush against his fingertips, but static electricity still didn’t flow between them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” “Didn’t you say a ten-meter distance limit?” “I take those words back.” “Hmph. Everything’s just however you want it to be.” “Well, up until now, not much in my life hasn’t gone the way I wanted.” “Then how about I show you something not going your way starting right now?”

When Bobae started running, dragging her IV pole along, Horang hurried after her so he wouldn’t lose her. Whenever Bobae picked up speed, Horang increased his pace too, and whenever she dodged left and right, Horang quickly closed in on her. Running around as if playing a game of tag, the two of them had no idea at that moment: Horang’s battery, which had been sitting at 9%, had rapidly charged up to 40% right after the kiss.

Returning to their hospital room, the two of them sorted out the unfinished conversation. “So, in exchange for staying by my side, you want me to help you write your script?”

Instead of spending three months serving merely as his portable backup battery, Bobae planned to extract the romance she needed for her scriptwriting from him. “Put simply, yes.” “Help, huh…”

Sitting with his legs crossed and his chin slightly tilted up as he looked down at her, his gaze seemed exceedingly arrogant. With arrogance like that, you’d think he’d be unlikable, but by some strange alchemy, he looked quite elegant. Every ingrained gesture and tone of voice seemed refined and full of grace. That was precisely why Bobae needed his help even more—he matched the image of her drama’s male lead to absolute perfection.

“The script.” When Horang held out his hand and spoke, Bobae looked at him with a bewildered expression. “What about the script?” “I need to check what level it’s at, don’t I?”

Horang had been thoroughly taught from a young age that there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world, and you didn’t just stamp your seal anywhere. This woman’s vague request for help with scriptwriting could come back to bite him at any moment, depending on how things turned out. So it was best to make everything certain. If the script’s quality was too abysmal, he planned to propose a different deal. It would be a headache if she latched onto him later claiming she received no help at all.

“Why on earth do you even need to check the script…” Pouting her lips, Bobae pulled out her phone. “I don’t have my laptop because I was rushed here in an ambulance. I have it saved on my phone, though, so look at it on this.”

Taking the phone Bobae handed over, Horang began reading the script. Over the years, he had reviewed hundreds of scripts while handling drama sponsorships. Because he utterly despised wasting money on foolish ventures, he checked every single script with meticulous care, and as a result, his eye for scripts was well above average—good enough to accurately guess viewer ratings.

Yet this… was completely unpredictable. The script was just as eccentric as the woman herself. After reading through it for a long while, Horang asked, “What genre is this?” “Romance. A romantic comedy.”

When Bobae replied, Horang shifted his gaze back to the script. Bobae felt secretly nervous. Showing one’s writing to someone else was always an exciting yet deeply nerve-wracking thing. Waiting for Horang’s reaction with a mix of anticipation and jitteriness— “This isn’t a romantic comedy, it’s just a comedy.”

A devastating evaluation popped out of his mouth. “This script belongs at the variety show department, not the drama department.”

Bobae furrowed her brow, but Horang continued unfazed. “How can the genre be romance when there’s no heart-fluttering, no push-and-pull, and no sweetness? That’s almost an achievement in itself—not a single bit of it is thrilling. The main characters’ emotions are consistently as robotic as can be. This is literally the worst script I’ve ever seen in my life.”

At the scathing review, Bobae’s face flushed bright red, as if it was about to explode at any second. Even Director Jang at least cushioned his critiques with a compliment about it being entertaining first, but this guy just started tearing into it right off the bat without rhyme or reason.

“What rating is this for?” Hearing his question, which didn’t sound very friendly, Bobae clenched her back teeth and replied, “All ages!” (Note: The original Korean uses a pun on words starting with a harsh sound—”sip-se” (ten years old/all ages) vs. a profanity, which escalates in the next line). “Ten-years-old?” “Ah, not ten-years-old, it’s eighteen-years-old! Eighteen!”

When Bobae sharply spat out the intensified consonants, Horang shook his head. Well, of course she wasn’t the type of woman to just sit quietly after receiving a review like that. “Wait, are you really a writer? Did you even debut?” “I am a writer! And I did debut!” “Really? Then why on earth did you write it this badly? The premise is good and the dialogue is fine, but the emotional line between the leads makes no sense at all. Have you never been in a relationship? Ah, right, you said you were a master of kissing. But with how you write a script, how on earth did you debut? Hey, what’s the title of your debut work? I should look it up.”

Horang asked while still staring down at her phone, but there was no answer. Wondering why she was so quiet, he raised his head—only to find Bobae packing up her things. “What are you doing?” “I’m going home.” “What?” “I’m taking back my offer to help.”

Having packed all her belongings, Bobae snatched her phone from Horang’s hand and walked toward the door. Just as she grabbed the handle to pull it open, Horang reached out past her and slammed the door shut. When Bobae spun around, she found herself standing face-to-face with him, just inches away. “What is your problem?” “I don’t think I can stay together with you in this mood.”

As a snapped Bobae tried to open the door again, Horang raised his other hand to block it. In an instant, Bobae found herself completely trapped between the solid door and Horang’s two arms. As Horang leaned his upper body slightly forward, they were close enough for their lips to nearly touch. His breath brushed against the skin of Bobae’s neck, lingering and scattering. “You’re not going anywhere.” “Whether I go or stay, I decide that.” “No. You’re not going. Absolutely not.”

At Horang’s firm words, Bobae raised her chin defensively. “Why not?” When Bobae asked, Horang tilted his head slightly and closed the distance between them. Suddenly, his lips filled Bobae’s vision. His reddish, moist lips were slightly parted, and his tongue was visible between them. The kiss they had shared on the rooftop flashed through her mind. The soft texture of his lips and the breath that had wrapped around her until she felt dizzy felt overwhelmingly vivid.

The explosive emotional power generated by physical touch was greater than she had expected. Watching the sharp edges of Bobae’s defensive heart slowly soften— “Because…” As Bobae bit her lower lip slightly and looked up at him, Horang’s lazy, mellow voice settled softly against her ear. “You need to pass gas first before you can leave.” “…?” “Didn’t you say you had appendicitis?” “…!”

Instantly, Bobae’s face burned bright red. Seeing him pull back with a smug curve to his lips, her two fists trembled with rage. The thought that he had been playing with her, tossing her emotions up and down at his whim, made her wonder what kind of jerk he was—but what baffled her even more was herself.

Her heart had fluttered. For that brief moment, she had actually gotten flustered over this man. This was why physical touch was dangerous, considering how easily a person’s heart could be shaken enough to lose their wits over just one kiss. ‘I really need to learn from this.’

Though her pride was deeply wounded, she had no other choice. To write a romantic script, this man was her best option. His personality might be terrible, but he had more than enough material for her to learn from. Eventually, Bobae decided to take a step back. “Fine. I’ll be honest with you.” “Let’s hear it.” “As you can tell from reading the script, the romance is weak. So I want you to teach me a bit about romance.” “Romance… What makes you think I can teach you romance?” “Well, you see…”

Though Bobae had asked him for help, she hesitated slightly on how to explain her situation. Saying something like, ‘For some reason, whenever this body of mine touches a man, electricity flows. So even though I’m thirty, I’ve never even been near a man, let alone kissed one. But you aren’t like that. So please help me.’ was simply impossible to say out loud. Especially after she had introduced herself as a “master of kissing.”

Right then, a bright idea flashed through Bobae’s mind. “A chaebol!” “A chaebol?” “As you can see, the male protagonist is a chaebol. A third-generation chaebol. But when have I ever met a chaebol, or even had a conversation with one? Every time I try to write the script, I feel completely stuck. But luckily, you are a chaebol. So help me out.” “Help you with what, specifically?” “A chaebol’s romance!” When Horang furrowed his brow, Bobae corrected herself. “No, a chaebol’s dating flex!” “What?” “From way back, when it comes to chaebol romance, money-splurging—no, flexing—is the classic standard. I want to see a bit of that.”

As Bobae blinked with eyes full of anticipation, Horang whipped his head away and replied, “No.” “Why not?” “I’d actually need to be dating someone to show you a chaebol’s romance, wouldn’t I? But I’m single.” “With that face and that background, why aren’t you dating…? Ah, well, come to think of it…”

Just as Bobae was thinking his conditions were surprising, she recalled his personality and immediately understood. “‘Come to think of it’? What’s that supposed to mean?” When Horang snapped at her reaction, Bobae smoothly changed the subject. “It doesn’t matter if you aren’t dating right now. You’re engaged, right?” “No.” “Not yet, then. Then you must have an arranged marriage partner picked out by your family, right?” “None.” “Still none? Then what about the family elders rushing you to get married?” “I don’t have any.” “Then what about a chaebol heiress chasing after Baek Horang because she likes him?” “Doesn’t exist.” “Oh, come on, what kind of life is this?!”

In the end, Bobae completely snapped. Usually, when people talked about a chaebol, there was either an engaged fiancée for a strategic marriage, or if not that, a family-pressured contract marriage partner, or at the very least a chaebol heiress hovering around wanting to tie the knot—yet he had none of that?!

Besides, who was Baek Horang? He was the heir to Taesung Group, no less! An influential business tycoon capable of shaking the entire nation of South Korea in the palm of his hand. And yet, he didn’t even have a common, run-of-the-mill fiancée? As expected… “…Is his terrible personality common knowledge or something?” “I can hear every word, you know.”

When Horang glared at her fiercely, Bobae responded with a wide, innocent eye-smile.

This was tricky. She had planned to observe this man’s dating history to learn authentic, real-life romance from a real chaebol man, but if there was absolutely nothing related to romance to be found…

While she was deep in thought trying to come up with a good idea, Horang spoke with an exasperated tone. “Just ask me for money instead. Write the script on your own.” “I don’t need money.” “Why don’t you need money? Isn’t money the whole reason you write stories in the first place?” “Why are you turning someone else’s dream into currency?” “Are you trying to wrap money up and disguise it as a dream?”

Bobae found Horang so irritating for tying everything back to money. Maybe it was because he had too much of it, but Horang always tried to solve everything with cash.

However, what Bobae wanted wasn’t money. It wasn’t because she was well-off—she was currently struggling to make rent on her rooftop room and scraping by for living expenses, but that didn’t mean she lacked dreams. I might be broke, but I’m not dreamless.

Just as she was muttering that to herself, a brilliant thought flashed across her mind. “Ah! Right! That’s what we can do!” “Do what?” When Horang asked indifferently, Bobae looked up at him with sparkling eyes and said, “A chaebol man’s dating flex—show that to me!” “What?”

That was a topic they had already finished discussing. A chaebol man’s dating flex was only possible under the premise that Horang was actually dating someone. Yet he didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone someone he was subtly flirting with—why did she keep insisting on such nonsense? “Let’s drop that topic and just cleanly settle this with money.” “I told you I don’t need money.” “Then what do you expect me to do? Want me to go manufacture a girlfriend out of thin air?” When Horang asked in an annoyed tone, Bobae answered cheerfully, “You can just do it with me.”

Momentarily stunned, Horang wondered if he had misheard and asked back, “What? Do what with whom?” “Do it with me. Dating!”

At Bobae’s unexpected remark, Horang’s eyes widened. The other day she had demanded a kiss, and today she wanted to date. She truly was a woman who kept you guessing—someone whose tomorrow made you more curious than her today.