Chapter 8
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Hanwon gaped in disbelief. The resemblance stunned him. “Man, you two could be twins. Spill it, Lee Doha—she’s your secret daughter, isn’t she?”
“Cut that out around the child,” Doha warned sharply.
“But seriously, it’s uncanny. Feels like you carried her yourself.”
Yewon sat there, utterly spent from his boundless energy, her eyelids fluttering in quiet exhaustion.
“Look at her, perfect little doll. Hey, kid, you real or what?”
The striking guy, ears studded with piercings and an edgy vibe, gently prodded her cheek.
“Ha! And the doll speaks.”
Overwhelmed, Yewon stayed silent.
She recognized him instantly, of course.
GLEET’s star dancer and backup rapper, though his flow rivaled top leads elsewhere.
Doha served as the band’s entry point for fans, while Hanwon embodied their devoted core.
His rough edges hid genuine fondness.
A shiver prickled Yewon’s skin.
“So you’re Yewon. Mind if your uncle dubs you baby?”
He’d slipped into the term without pause.
Yewon realized he thrived on her clear aversion to it.
Her eyes narrowed in a sharp glare at Hanwon.
Doha snapped his fingers against Hanwon’s forehead.
“Ow! What gives, Lee Doha?”
“Leave her be. Grow up already.”
“I wasn’t harassing anyone! Just a friendly hello to our little one!”
“You’ve got that telltale smirk when you’re messing around. Right there on your face.”
“Total injustice. This sucks.”
“Watch your mouth near her.”
Lost for clean words, Hanwon fell quiet.
They bantered like old allies, closer than Yewon anticipated.
She cocked her head, puzzled by their easy rapport.
No tension lingered between them, so what triggered her assigned task?
“Yeongeo filled me in a bit. You two shacking up these days?”
Hanwon directed the query at Doha, drawing matching stares from Yewon and him.
Yewon echoed the curiosity inwardly. She craved details too, Uncle.
Doha sidestepped. “…Where are the rest of the guys?”
Hanwon eyed him oddly but replied. “Our leader’s stuck in England. Yeonho’s likely sweating it out at the gym.”
Doha grasped the unspoken tie to Yewon’s circumstances, even unmentioned.
“Just me for the moment,” Hanwon added with a glance her way. “Full group awareness? Disaster.”
The word sparked shadows across Doha and Yewon’s features in unison.
“They’d riot to claim her as their own,” Hanwon clarified.
A wave of delight lifted their moods together.
He erupted in chuckles. “Family traits run deep—mirrored looks, synced reactions. Nearly killed me.”
“Keep pushing, see what happens,” Doha growled, fist curling.
Hanwon snorted. “Please. You? All scrawny? Hit the weights.”
“Uncle Hanwon, you’re mean.”
Doha’s jab bounced off, but Yewon’s stung deep. Hanwon froze, jaw slack.
“Yewon! No, wait—big mix-up! I’m nice! And hey, uncle status here too, same as Doha. Use it!”
Dropping to plain “mister” wounded him profoundly.
Yewon pressed on, leaving him reeling as she pivoted away, icy.
Her earlier shock lingered vividly.
Doha had rung him that morning. “Hanwon, big favor…” he’d said.
“And the favor?”
“Entertain Yewon. Claimed you don’t handle kids.”
Truth pinned Doha silent briefly.
He rallied. “Raised three sibs myself. Brothers and baby sis.”
“All stateside now, sure. But I handled diapers, feedings—everything. Beats your game, Lee Doha.”
“Am I right, Yewon? Uncle knows best.”
He pivoted for her nod, met only steadfast reserve.
Undeterred, Yewon faced Doha.
One nagging question burned.
Overseas gig? Trip?
Their shared looks hinted at thorns; words stalled.
Some complication brewing?
Hanwon’s fumble gave Doha the lead.
Fugitive past?
Yewon’s brow furrowed darkly until Hanwon’s nudge interrupted.
“Your phrasing’s brutal. Avoidance, not flight, idiot!”
Doha twisted aside, irked.
“Why dodge Uncle Doha’s sight?”
“They clash hard.”
“A nasty figure once. I pushed to expose the dirt publicly. Doha voted silence. Stung bad, so I retreated home.”
Yewon swung toward Doha.
“Sometimes facts wound the innocent fans,” he murmured with a heavy breath. “Those who cherished that villain.”
“Hanwon, you’re schooling her right. Why drag me into this mess?”
“Kids hit seven, they grasp it all. Underestimate their gut at your peril. Secrets backfire—little ones terrify.”
“Exactly. No secrets from me.”
Their tandem assault drew Doha’s stunned chuckle.
“You sync flawlessly.”
“Clicked with Yewon on sight. We mesh perfect, yeah?”
Silence echoed.
Yewon deemed their bond premature.
She sidled to Doha, abandoning Hanwon’s theatrics.
“Uncle… that pained you deeply too.”
His gaze flared wide.
“Yours ached, and so did mine.”
Lips sealed in knowing poise, she clasped his hand.
Memories flooded: their debut shoot, his isolated slump.
Far ahead, his screen still held GLEET’s shot, post-breakup.
His words masked grief beneath a grin.
Yewon yearned to swap sorrow for light there.
A fierce pull, family essence distilled.
