The food was delicious, comforting, rich, and tasting of home, but Jaemin struggled to swallow past the lump that had taken up residence in his throat. He felt Do-hyun's presence next to him like a gravitational pull, but every time he glanced over, Do-hyun was looking at his parents, or at the food, or at the walls. Anywhere but him.
"Wait, I almost forgot!" Breaking the silence that had settled over the table, Jina scrambled up, her cheeks bulging with food as she sprinted toward the kitchen. "We bought soju!"
Junho called after her. "And makgeolli, bring the makgeolli out too!" When he met his father's glare, he just shrugged easily and said, "Can't we, Appa? It's our last night here with Hyung, and it goes well with what Omma cooked."
When his twin returned with an armful of bottles, they immediately started pouring for everyone, filling small glasses with the clear, sharp liquid.
Jina slid a glass toward Jaemin with a grin. "One for you, Oppa. To wash away the bad luck."
Jaemin managed a weak smile and reached for the glass, grateful for any distraction that might numb the ache in his chest.
"Put it down."
The order was low and gruff, cutting through the light atmosphere instantly. Seo Taejun was staring at Jaemin, his brow furrowed.
"Abeoji?" Jaemin paused, his fingers hovering over the glass.
"You shouldn't be drinking," his father said, his voice stern. He gestured vaguely at Jaemin. "Not in your condition. It doesn't mix well with medication."
"I'm fine, really," Jaemin tried, but his father didn't budge.
"The doctor at the clinic. She said your system had just crashed. That your hormonal levels were chaotic. Alcohol is the last thing you need if you're trying to stabilize your dosage."
The table went quiet. Jina slowly lowered her own glass, sensing the shift in the air.
"We know you don't like talking about your... condition," Seo Taejun continued, his eyes fixed on his son. "But that doctor mentioned a massive spike. That shouldn't have been possible if you were managing yourself properly."
He looked at Jaemin, brow furrowed, not in anger but in genuine, frustrated confusion.
"Have you not been taking your suppressants? I thought you had a… a schedule."
"I stopped," Jaemin admitted, pulling his hand back from the soju glass and clasping it in his lap. "After the Gala. It wasn't safe to take them anymore. And it was fine. Everything was getting better… until yesterday. But it's fine again now."
He scooped a large chunk of rice into his mouth, hoping his father would be satisfied with the reassurance.
"Appa." Sensing Jaemin's reluctance to continue in this vein, Junho tried to change the topic. "What time is our fli—"
"But before that," Seo Taejun pressed, refusing to be sidetracked. "You've always been so careful. Ever since you came back from… You never missed a dose, you were so disciplined. How did it get so bad that you collapsed during your concert, and then again yesterday? Did you forget?"
The question wasn't meant as an attack, but to Jaemin, it carried the weight of a lifetime of disappointed expectations.
You were always so good at hiding. Why did you fail?
"I didn't forget," Jaemin mumbled, his cheeks heating. "I took my normal dose that night, even though…"
He trailed off, hesitating. There had been hormonal spikes for some weeks before that. He suspected that they might have been caused by Do-hyun's presence and proximity over the days of long rehearsals, but he didn't want to say anything that would bring the alpha under fire right now.
"Maybe my system is just too broken," he finally said, giving a small, bitter laugh.
"It wasn't his fault."
Do-hyun's voice cut through the room, low and hard.
Everyone turned to look at him. Do-hyun wasn't looking at Jaemin; he was looking at Seo Taejun, his expression dark.
"It wasn't his fault, Abeonim," he repeated. "And his body isn't broken."
Seo Taejun's eyes narrowed. "Then what was it?" he demanded. "The doctor said his system was overwhelmed."
"It was," Do-hyun said. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a blow. "I saw the bloodwork myself, weeks ago. Dr. Lee Jisoo showed me the toxicology report from the Gala night."
Jaemin turned to him, confusion knitting his brows. "What are you talking about?"
Do-hyun finally turned to look at him. His eyes were filled with an apology so deep it scared Jaemin.
"I should have asked you once your heat broke, but we were—I'm sorry," he apologized softly. "It wasn't a natural heat, Jaemin. You didn't collapse because you were stressed or because your suppressants stopped working. You had a massive dose of anti-suppressants in your blood. Enough to force your system into overdrive in minutes."
Jina leaned forward. "Anti-suppressants?"
"A dose so strong it would have completely countered Jaemin's regular dosage of suppressants, and then much more," Do-hyun replied firmly.
Jaemin stared at Do-hyun, his mind reeling. "But... how?" he stammered. "I barely ate or drank anything before the performance, I was too nervous that night."
"The bouquet." The alpha's dark eyes searched his. "Do you remember?"
"Bouquet?" Jina asked.
Do-hyun turned to her "Yes. There was a bouquet of flowers someone passed through the audience when we were taking our bows." His gaze returned to Jaemin. "Remember?"
Jaemin stared at him, forcing his mind back to the chaos of the Revival Gala.
The lights.
The music.
The applause.
Choi Seungcheol, laughing at him from the balcony.
The bouquet of red roses with the card and its mocking message:
Just for you, my fragile omega.
The blood drained from his face so fast that he swayed in his chair.
"There was something sharp hidden inside. It pricked my finger." He looked down at his hands, at his left thumb. The skin was healed now, smooth and unblemished, but he remembered the stab of pain. He looked up at Do-hyun, horror dawning. "That's when my… Everything hurt, and I collapsed."
Seo Soomin let out a gasp, covering her mouth. Beside her, Seo Taejun's face was white with fury.
"Who?" he demanded. "Who gave you those flowers?"
Jaemin looked at his father, then at Do-hyun. The answer was a stone in his throat.
"Choi…" His throat had gone dry, but he forced the answer out. "Choi Seungcheol. He was there that night, I remember. There was a note… It couldn't have been anyone but him."
The realization sucked the air out of the room. It wasn't just a bad breakup. It wasn't just a rival causing stress.
Do-hyun nodded, his lips pressed into a firm, hard line.
"He poisoned you."