Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 27
You Made a Girl Cry?
“I’ll get you the tickets. But it’s a secret that you know about this, Jiwoo.”
“A secret?”
“Yeah. That way, I can see her one more time.”
Mister said it was a secret, and that Jiwoo had to pretend he didn’t know anything about the tickets.
So just as he was trying to brush past it without giving any details, the door opened, and Yeonjae stepped inside.
“Mom!”
“Jiwoo, did you have fun today?”
“Yes!”
Jiwoo ran straight toward Yeonjae.
Wrapping his little arms tightly around both her legs, he clung to her and looked up with sparkling eyes.
‘Mom, what about the tickets?’
The boy’s eyes were practically asking her aloud.
Mister said he would go see Yeonjae on Monday to give her the tickets. Since today was Monday, wouldn't she have gotten them by now?
Jiwoo’s heart thumped in his chest.
“Mom, you know Jepkin’s concert?”
“Oh, Jepkin. That’s right. Jiwoo, Mom got the tickets.”
As if remembering something she had forgotten, Yeonjae slipped her hand into her handbag.
Then, pulling out a white envelope, she handed it to Jiwoo.
“Whoa, it’s the tickets! Are these real tickets?”
Holding up the tickets, a radiant smile bloomed across Jiwoo’s face.
Watching the child beam like a flower in full bloom, a gentle smile graced Yeonjae’s lips as well.
“Jang Seoha, look at this! We really got tickets!”
With disbelief in her eyes, Seoha walked over and looked at the tickets in Jiwoo’s hand.
Then, her eyes welled up with moisture.
“Seoha! Mommy’s been looking all over for you. Why are you still here?”
Hyekyung, who had been waiting outside, stepped into the kindergarten to look for Seoha when she didn’t come out.
Seeing Hyekyung, Seoha ran over to her. Large teardrops brimmed along her eyelashes.
“Mommyyy, why doesn’t Seoha have a ticket? Seoha wants to go to Jepkin’s concert, too!”
“Huh?”
“Jiwoo’s mommy got tickets, so why didn’t you get any for me! Jiwoo says he’s going to the concert!”
Beating her tiny hands against Hyekyung’s legs, Seoha burst into tears.
Seeing the endless streams of tears rolling down the girl’s round cheeks, a flustered look crossed Hyekyung’s face.
“Wait, what on earth is she talking about?”
Hyekyung was completely at a loss.
“Jiwoo’s mom, did you get concert tickets?”
“Ah, yes. Somehow, I managed to get them, but…”
Hyekyung wasn’t the only one caught off guard.
Yeonjae was just as taken aback, watching Seoha wail in bitter sorrow.
“There are only two tickets.”
Looking troubled, Yeonjae carefully added.
And Jiwoo, watching the whole scene unfold beside them, felt the exact same way.
He had only said it because Seoha was bragging earlier.
Having had no intention of making her cry, Jiwoo was terribly bewildered.
Hesitantly inching closer to Yeonjae, Jiwoo asked in a small voice,
“Mom, can’t Seoha come with us?”
Seeing the earnest look in Jiwoo’s big eyes, Yeonjae swallowed dryly.
She looked just as distressed as he was.
* * *
‘Mom, can’t Seoha come with us?’
The boy had looked up at her with eyes that were impossible to refuse.
And sensing Yeonjae’s awkward position, Hyekyung had said it was fine, comforting Seoha as she led her away.
Yet seeing Seoha leave in tears left a heavy weight on her chest that she couldn't easily shake off.
Then again, asking Jeheon for additional tickets was just as difficult in its own right.
Inside the car on the way home.
After wrestling with worries that offered no clear answer, Yeonjae finally parted her lips as if she had made up her mind.
She figured it would be better to tell him the truth.
“Jiwoo, about those tickets, you see.”
At the sound of her voice echoing through the quiet space, Jiwoo lifted his head.
Their eyes met through the rearview mirror.
“Mister gave them to us. Mom tried really hard to get them, but as you know, that concert is just so popular…”
Yeonjae gently explained the situation to the child.
“Since they’re tickets from Mister, it’s a little awkward for Mom to ask for Seoha’s family too.”
“…”
“I think it’ll have to be just the two of us going to the concert. Is that okay?”
Beyond the rearview mirror, Jiwoo remained silent for a while.
Then, as if finally understanding what Yeonjae meant, he gave a small nod.
The boy stayed quiet until they arrived home.
Turning into the alley, Yeonjae pulled the car into the empty parking spot in front of the gate.
After parking, she stepped out of the driver’s seat and headed toward the back.
Opening the door, she saw the boy sitting with his head hung low.
His shoulders drooped limply, like a sponge soaked with water.
“Jiwoo.”
Even at Yeonjae’s call, the child simply continued to stare at the floor.
Seeing him wrapped in a gloomy mood so uncharacteristic of him made Yeonjae’s heart ache with a heavy pang.
“Jiwoo, are you alright?”
When Yeonjae asked gently, Jiwoo slowly raised his head.
The corners of his eyes were cast down, just as slumped as his shoulders.
“Mom, Jiwoo made Seoha cry… What should I do?”
Jiwoo’s voice as he spoke to Yeonjae was utterly subdued.
Looking at the dejected child left a bitter taste in Yeonjae’s mouth.
Her heart grew even heavier because it wasn't a problem she could solve for him.
* * *
The meeting room was dead silent, save for the person delivering the presentation.
Gazing at the screen displaying the slides, Jeheon’s eyes flicked over toward his phone.
Even though he knew no one would be contacting him, his gaze kept wandering to it.
Tapping his pen lightly against the stack of papers in his hand, Jeheon picked up the phone.
With a few taps, his calendar opened.
Today and tomorrow were both packed to the brim.
Because he had pushed his schedule to extend the business trip to Daejeon, dozens of postponed meetings and conferences had piled up.
His work at the Foundation was merely an extra responsibility; he still had his original post as CEO within the main branch of Guil.
No matter how hard he looked, there wasn't a single opening in his workday.
Jeheon swallowed a dry chuckle.
Here he was, so busy and overwhelmed that his days were booked solid.
“I’m working right now. I don’t have time to talk. You know I have even less time if it’s about the Foundation, right?”
“…”
“I have things I need to do too. Right now, working part-time at the cafe is my job. When that’s over, I have to teach kids at the academy. Just because you want to, Gu Jeheon-ssi, doesn't mean I have time to sit around roasting coffee beans.”
He had gone out of his way to carve out time to see her, but Jeong Yeonjae was only busy brushing him off, claiming she was ‘busy.’
Jeong Yeonjae, who made coffee and worked at the cafe without a single second to sit down, and then headed off to teach classes at an academy in the afternoon.
To the point where, if they were to have a proper conversation, she would have to clear her part-time shifts just to meet.
It was unbelievable that she was just as busy as a corporate CEO.
‘This is why.’
If only the child had a father.
If he had been a decent father, she wouldn’t have to live like this, struggling through two or three shifts a day.
“Why did she have to get tangled up with such a pathetic bastard…”
…and live through all this hardship?
“Excuse me?”
Startled, the presenter stopped mid-sentence.
When Jeheon lifted his head, he found every eye in the room fixed on him, having apparently overheard his mutterings.
“Ah, I was just talking to myself.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, the presenter attempted to resume the presentation.
Jeheon loosened his suffocatingly tight necktie.
Just as he was about to set down the phone that offered no answers,
With a buzz of vibration, an unknown number appeared on the screen.
An unsaved number calling his business phone.
Normally, it would be a call he didn’t need to answer.
Yet a strangely familiar sequence of digits caught his eye.
“Let’s take a short break.”
Announcing a recess, Jeheon rose from his seat.
Stepping out of the conference room, he brought the phone to his ear.
The moment he pressed the call button, a tearful, sniffling voice came through the receiver.
―Misteeer.
Though the voice was thick with tears like a waterlogged sponge, Jeheon recognized immediately who it was.
He belatedly remembered that the unsaved number belonged to Jiwoo’s homeroom teacher at the kindergarten.
―It’s Jiwoo. *Hic.* What should I do?
A voice utterly drowned in tears.
And beneath the noisy white noise of children chattering in the background, it was difficult to hear clearly.
Jeheon’s entire body tensed at the sudden call—and at the sound of Jiwoo crying.
Was he hurt?
Or had something happened to Jeong Yeonjae?
A myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.
“Jeong Jiwoo, stop crying and tell me slowly.”
―*Sniff.* Mister, Jiwoo bragged to Seoha that I was going to Jepkin’s concert. And that made Seoha cry.
The concert?
Among the worst-case scenarios he had envisioned just moments ago, a concert was certainly not one of them.
Jeheon’s tightly furrowed brow smoothed out gently.
Over the line, Jiwoo explained the whole story.
How he had been so happy about getting tickets that he bragged to Seoha, which made her burst into tears because she couldn't go.
And how now, whenever she saw Jiwoo at the kindergarten, she would turn away without saying a single word to him.
He added that Yeonjae couldn't help because there were only two tickets.
“You made a girl cry?”
Now that his peace of mind had returned, his voice came out noticeably softer.
To think a mere ticket could make a girl cry.
―Yeees. Can’t you help me, Mister?
All he had to do was get more. Then again, Jeong Yeonjae didn't have the power to do that.
This was something only he could pull off.
A leisurely smirk curled the corner of Jeheon’s lips.
