RUIN HIM

"Ugh, I don't think this is going to work," Jimin muttered in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. He paced relentlessly back and forth along the dining table, occasionally stopping to lean over one of the chairs, his hands clasped tightly. The weight of Jiwoo's New Year's Eve idea, now being put into action in Jung's penthouse, was making him nervous and apprehensive.

"Stop jinxing it, you pessimist," Jiwoo shot back, as she carried cutlery over to the table, carefully placing it beside the dishes.

"What she means is, try to think positively," Haneul added, her tone soothing as she set out plates for the brunch the Jung and Park families traditionally shared to discuss their children's futures. The irony was that these very children were about to tell their families they'd prefer to remain single rather than spend their lives as a couple. They had their reasons, after all. Important ones.

"Guys, we've got this. It'll work," Haneul tried to lift the somber mood.

"Yeah," Jimin and Jiwoo replied in unison, though their voices lacked conviction, weighed down by uncertainty.

Haneul clicked her tongue, casting a disapproving glance at Jiwoo, who responded with an exasperated look of her own.

"What? I'm holding up my end of the deal, aren't I?" Jiwoo exclaimed, dramatically waving her arm before slamming the fork she was holding onto the table.

Jimin flinched, eyes widening in alarm. In that moment, he realized how dangerous cutlery could be in the wrong hands, especially Jiwoo's. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated her earlier threats. Unlike him, Haneul just chuckled softly, taking the fork from Jiwoo and placing it calmly in its spot.

"Yes, you are. But remember, we're going the Gandhi route-nonviolent, okay?" Haneul said with a light-hearted smile.

"You mean non-violent resistance?" Jimin asked, a bit unsure.

"Yes, non-violent resistance," Haneul confirmed with a nod. "Exactly."

Jiwoo rolled her eyes. "You and your obsession with history. Is that why you're so good at remembering dates?" She raised her eyebrows, teasing Haneul about her uncanny ability to recall even the smallest details of their outings. It was a skill that never failed to amuse and bewilder the group.

"Shut up," Haneul muttered, shoving Jiwoo playfully on the shoulder.

Jiwoo laughed and stole a quick kiss before skipping off to the kitchen where Mrs. Jung had called for her help. Haneul, flustered, blushed at her girlfriend's antics. Six years had passed, yet she still couldn't get used to Jiwoo's bold displays of affection. Her lashes fluttered as she tried to refocus, her gaze landing on Jimin, who they had inadvertently left out of the conversation. His cheeks were tinged pink.

Haneul's own blush deepened when she realized what had just happened. Jiwoo always had a way of stealing her attention entirely.

For Jimin, however, witnessing that affectionate moment for the second time made his old kindergarten heartbreak resurface. As a child, he had nursed a tiny, secret crush on his best friend's older sister. But now, as an adult, he was bemused by how oblivious he had been to Jiwoo and Haneul's relationship. He'd never guessed that Jiwoo's over-protectiveness toward Haneul stemmed from something more than friendship. If he hadn't chased after Jiwoo the night of his own felicitation ceremony, he might have never found out.

When their fathers proposed the idea of marriage between him and Jiwoo, it felt like his world had collapsed. He compared the news to the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki—devastating in its own way. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of his life being decided without his input, and it filled him with both anger and helplessness.

Sure, Jiwoo was his type (if you overlooked the cursing that accompanied half their conversations) but he didn't love her in that way. The idea of marriage was forced, against both their wills, and Jimin knew firsthand how disastrous a marriage without love could be. He had watched his mother live a life of false hope and pretense, and he had no intention of walking the same path as his father, Park Seo Joon.

Determined to stand up to his father, he resolved to talk to Jiwoo. If they were on the same page, it would make confronting their parents easier. So, when he saw Jiwoo standing in eerie silence, her face void of any readable emotion, he knew the stars had aligned. She wasn't on board with this either.

The tension in Jimin's forehead eased, and he slumped his shoulders as he let out a long breath. Spotting a passing waiter, he grabbed two glasses of liquor and headed toward Jiwoo, hoping this time she'd have a reason to accept the drink she had refused earlier. But just as he was about to call her name, someone else caught her attention and pulled her away. He quickly realized it was Haneul.

It didn't strike him as odd at first, even as Jiwoo practically dragged Haneul into a nearby closet. He shrugged it off, assuming Jiwoo was venting to her best friend about the marriage arrangement her father had made with him. It was something Jimin himself would probably do with Hoseok once the party ended and he crashed at his place. And while his assumption was correct, the outcome was far from anything he could have imagined.

Maybe he should have knocked before barging in. Three knocks would have been polite, maybe waiting an hour for a response—anything that would have spared him from witnessing what came next. Because as the door creaked open, Jimin found himself staring at Jiwoo and Haneul, passionately making out in the dimly lit closet.

Jimin cursed under his breath, stumbling backward and knocking over a mop from its stand, the noise halting their moment. The shock on their faces was palpable, but it quickly turned to disbelief when Jimin, instead of being furious or confused, threw his head back and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

He gulped down the liquor from his glass, then laughed some more.

As his hysterics filled the small space, Jiwoo swore at him, berating him with accusations about his family's sanity, but Jimin could barely register her words through his cackles.

"Oh, God," he gasped, wiping a tear from his eye. After a moment to steady his breathing and soothe his aching sides, he took a sip from the second glass meant for Jiwoo and pointed a finger at Haneul. "You. . . are my North Star," he said, still grinning. "You'll guide me out of this business deal-slash-forced marriage."

Jiwoo had a sharp retort ready on her tongue, but she hesitated when Haneul gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod.

With a sigh, Jiwoo finally gave in.

"So, what's the plan?" Jimin asked, prompting the next part of the conversation that led to this setup.

"She's quite a handful at times," Haneul said with a small smile, referring to her girlfriend. "Please don't mind her."

Jimin grinned cheekily. "I don't. It's just surprising to see her so worked up about something I always thought was foreign to her. I never pegged her for the hopeless romantic type, you know."

Haneul chuckled at his amusement. "Well, I can assure you, she is. And a lot more. It's like seeing her through a whole new lens."

"Yeah, like fifty shades of Jung Jiwoo."

Haneul snorted. "Oh God, no. Mention that to her if you've got a death wish."

"Nah, I don't plan on dying young. Besides, I've got a huge company to run and an assholic father to deal with."

Haneul smirked at his choice of words. "'Assholic'? Really? Why do you hate him so much?"

"Because he never gave me a reason to like him," Jimin replied, his tone more serious. "And honestly, he's done nothing to deserve the title of 'father.'" He exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. The mood shifted as he continued, "'A disgrace'-that's what my grandfather used to call him, and he wasn't wrong. My father still lives up to it."

At the thought of his grandfather, Jimin let out a dry chuckle. "I wish my grandfather was here today. He would've smacked some sense into his son and shut down this ridiculous marriage plan on the spot."

"You were close to your grandfather," Haneul noted softly, her voice gentle.

"Very," Jimin said, his voice thick with emotion. "He was my first best friend. I told him everything." He smiled faintly, bittersweet memories flooding back.

God, he missed him. It felt like ages, literally and figuratively, since Jimin had last visited his grandfather's grave back in his hometown. He made a mental note to go once this mess was over.

Haneul squeezed his hand, offering a comforting smile before heading off to bring the meal to the table. For the first time in a while, Jimin felt a small sense of peace.

Since her, he thought.

Haneul was only the second woman from outside his inner circle to approach Jimin without any ulterior motives. The first was the woman of his dreams, the one who had stolen his heart and never returned it.

It baffled Jimin how much Haneul reminded him of his first and only love. The resemblance was almost unbearable. Though people saw Jimin as a player, he was deeply devoted to love and romanticism. He viewed it as a sin to love anyone other than her, so committed was he to her memory, her preferences, her everything.

Clearing his throat, Jimin glanced at his wristwatch and noted the punctual arrival of two shitty people he had little patience for. Call him grumpy, but he awaited their arrival with zero enthusiasm. He knew he was cursing more than usual, but every time those selfish names came up, his "Cursing Tourette" flared up, and the obscenities flowed naturally.

He couldn't fathom how a father could treat his own child the way Mr. Jung treated Jiwoo. Park Seo Joon was another story—an outlier, a contradiction who refused to fit into the equation of love.

As a kid, Jimin had envied the love and attention Jiwoo and her brother received from their parents. Jiwoo was her father's pride, and Mr. Jung never tired of boasting about her accomplishments. Her brother, Hoseok, wasn't as admired by their father but was still showered with love by their mother. They were the golden children of the Jung family.

Now, Mr. Jung couldn't accept that one of his children wanted to defy his will. The disappointment he felt toward Hoseok seemed to have sown seeds of bitterness, the unwanted weeds in what had once been a field of beautiful orchids.

Jimin shook his head, feeling a headache forming from all his brooding. There was no time for that now. He was focused on figuring out how to escape his side of the marriage deal, preferably without too much trouble.

Jiwoo, meanwhile, had similar thoughts swirling in her mind as she took the twice-baked potatoes out of the oven. Despite Haneul's hope for a peaceful resolution, Jiwoo wasn't optimistic. She knew they needed a backup plan, and luckily, she had the perfect proposition ready.

The clock struck a quarter past noon, the hour and minute hands forming a perfect right angle. The room was filled with the mouth-watering aromas of grilled chicken and tangy coleslaw, making Jimin's stomach rumble. He was tempted to ask Mrs. Jung for an extra serving to take home, but he didn't have to. She had already noticed the familiar hungry look on his face, something she'd seen for over a decade. Jimin and her son had always been suckers for her cooking, and it brought Mrs. Jung joy. She'd already packed a separate meal, enough to feed at least two people.

With everything set, rich red wine in the center of the table, the four of them passed the time reminiscing about old memories while waiting for the men they'd been expecting. When the two finally arrived, they helped themselves to the meal.

"Dear, the chicken tastes amazing," Mr. Jung complimented his wife.

Seo Joon, Jimin's father, brought a piece of chicken on his fork to his nose, sniffing it before taking a calculated bite. Haneul, curious about Jimin's father, winced when she heard him mutter "greasy" under his breath, critiquing the food. She felt terrible for Mrs. Jung, whose smile faltered into a frown at the comment.

An awkward silence settled over the table.

Jiwoo fidgeted in her seat, absentmindedly playing with her food as she half-listened to the dull conversation between the business partners about the stock market. The concept of the second market bored her, and she struggled to stifle a yawn. Blinking to clear her thoughts, Jiwoo's focus shifted to the nervous tension building inside her. She couldn't wait to voice her disapproval of the arranged marriage and get it over with.

To steer the conversation toward a more favorable topic, Mr. Jung turned to the CEO of his most invested company. "Jimin, son, how's it going? I hear you've been working hard on securing the Jeju project that the government needs completed next year."

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, sitting up straighter.

It was the first time Mr. Jung had addressed him as "son." The word felt personal yet professional, a recognition of his efforts, untainted by his father's shadow.

Pride had stirred in Jimin, but his father's critical nature couldn't let it rest.

"I doubt sitting behind a desk, churning out useless designs for hours counts as hard work," Seo Joon cut in sharply. "There's more to leadership than being glued to a mobile device. Learn to be more efficient, Mr. CEO."

Jimin's jaw tightened. "Efficiency is something I understand well, dad, thanks. But perhaps you're not familiar with the concept of modernization. We're not living in the Joseon era anymore. Retro designs are best suited for museums."

Mr. Jung chuckled. Seo Joon's eyes narrowed in irritation, but Jimin only shrugged, taking a deliberate sip of his Masseto.

Jimin reminded Mr. Jung of Jiwoo in many ways, which led him to comment, "This generation certainly has its own style. Jiwoo is the same when it comes to fashion. You two will make a perfect match, I'm sure."

Jiwoo shifted uncomfortably. "Dad," she began, hesitantly, "we need to talk to you about something."

Mr. Jung's brow furrowed at her tone. He wasn't slow to catch on.

"What is it?" he asked.

Mrs. Jung looked equally puzzled but remained composed, unlike Seo Joon, whose anger was barely concealed. His grip on the utensils tightened visibly. Haneul, a confidante rather than a family member in this setting, stayed quiet. Her hand rested gently on Jiwoo's knee, offering silent support.

Jimin finally spoke. "With all due respect, sir, I cannot marry your daughter."

"Give me a valid reason, Park Jimin," Seo Joon demanded, his tone icy as all attention pivoted toward him.

"We're not suited for each other, Mr. Park Seo Joon," Jimin said, shrugging again, which only seemed to aggravate his father further.

"I don't see that as a problem," Seo Joon replied coldly. "You're both young and capable. You can grow into it."

"We're not romantically attracted to each other."

"That will come after marriage. Don't turn this into an issue when it's not."

"It is an issue, dad. You can't force this on us!" Jimin's voice rose, frustration spilling over as his father's stubbornness grated on him.

Seo Joon inhaled deeply, preparing his final blow. He had no intention of losing what he had built with Jung Organizations. Whatever the cost, he would keep the alliance intact.

"As your parents, we know what's best for you. We're only concerned with your welfare. But if you continue to defy us, I'm afraid you'll regret it."

The words left a bitter taste in Mr. Jung's mouth as he reflected on the failure of his second-born. Hoseok had gained fame, but his career came with more setbacks than rewards. Mr. Jung wanted to trust his comrade's judgment, but one glance at the downcast Jiwoo made him reconsider the marriage. He would need solitude later to think this through carefully.

"If you have no further arguments, we're done here."

Jimin let out a loud scoff. "This is absurd! I'm not selling myself for your selfish business deals."

"Mind your language, Park. You've embarrassed me enough already," Seo Joon shot back condescendingly.

"Whatever. I'm done with this." Jimin stood abruptly, though he still thanked Mrs. Jung for brunch. Without looking back, he left the penthouse and got into his car, his mind set on something he had resisted earlier-crashing at Hoseok's. Only his best friend had the power to bring him comfort now.

Jimin's anger burned hotter than his frustration. He was also upset with himself, things weren't supposed to end like this. The image of Haneul and Jiwoo lingering in his mind made him want to slam his head against the steering wheel. So much for following Gandhi's philosophies; he had done the opposite, shattering their plans in the most brutal way possible.

God, he had messed up. Jiwoo was probably ready to kill him, forks in hand.

"Arghh." A blaring horn snapped him out of his thoughts. He loosened his grip on his hair and refocused on the road, realizing the red light had turned green. With a deep breath, he drove on, taking a left turn and heading toward Seong Cho in the Gangnam District. His mind urged him to focus on the future rather than dwelling on what had just transpired.

Jimin wondered if he should take matters into his own hands, solving things in the way he was most familiar with, or if he should try a more peaceful approach, like Gandhi, something Haneul had suggested. He had only met her twice, but something about her calm demeanor made him think he should give her methods a chance. She reminded him of the woman he had once fallen hard for, and despite himself, he felt a growing attraction toward her.

When Jimin arrived at Hoseok's million-dollar apartment, there was something strange about his subdued demeanor. Hoseok, ever perceptive, noticed the unusual tension in his best friend. Jimin, who was known for his explosive temper, seemed to be holding back, which was a clear sign that something serious was brewing.

"What are you going to do now?" Hoseok asked cautiously. Jimin had yet to explain what was running through his mind, his gaze fixed on the city as it lit up beneath the darkening sky. The glow of the skyline reflected in his glassy eyes, a flicker of doom lurking in the depths.

Jimin let out a sharp breath before turning to face Hoseok, his eyes briefly softening as they landed on his friend's puffed cheeks, full of chicken. The sight cut through the tension for just a moment. "I'm going to ruin him," he said, moving toward the bar to refill his glass of Johnnie Walker. After the day he'd had, he needed something strong.

"What?" Hoseok asked, nearly dropping his chicken.

"Ruin him," Jimin repeated, taking a long sip from his glass.

"Who? Your father?" Hoseok asked, disbelief thick in his voice. He knew Jimin well enough to know this wasn't just drunken talk, but the thought of him plotting against his own father was still hard to process.

Jimin nodded. "I'll make his life a living hell. Worse than it already is."

Hoseok choked on his chicken, coughing as he struggled to catch his breath. "Dude, are you serious? He's your father!"

"Biological," Jimin spat, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "But mark my words, I'm going to ruin him. I'll take everything he's built and leave him with nothing-barren and withering."

The distant sound of blaring horns filled the thick silence that followed. Hoseok felt a chill run down his spine as he watched Jimin, whose sly smirk revealed the depth of his intentions.

Just what was Jimin planning to do?