CHAPTER 17

                                    

                                          
A Glimpse of Light
The meeting room was steeped in dim light as S.Coups' team gathered around the table, their focus trained on the maps and notes scattered before them. The air was tense, each man locked in concentration. Hoshi, Jun, and Vernon sat beside Dino, who scanned blueprints and surveillance images, his fingers gripping the table as he reviewed the mission: retrieve Jeonghan and bring him to the mansion safely.
Dino cleared his throat, eyes fixed on his tablet. "Taking Jeonghan from his apartment is too risky. Most of his friends live in the same building and could drop by unexpectedly. Our best chance is either at his flower shop or on his way home—both offer isolation."
Jun leaned forward. "Any idea if he usually leaves alone?"
"It's inconsistent," Dino replied, glancing between his teammates. "Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. No set pattern."
Vernon, monitoring real-time footage from Jeonghan's shop, nodded slightly. "Today, he'll likely be closing alone. It's packed, but he only has two staff members, so he'll be the last to leave."
Dino acknowledged Vernon's input, unease gnawing at him despite knowing the plan was for Jeonghan's safety.
Hoshi, silent until now, laid out the plan with a calm, calculating tone. "Hansol, you'll be at the café across from the shop, watching his movements. If he leaves alone, we intercept him at the entrance. If he's with someone, we wait until they're in the alley, take Jeonghan, and neutralize the other person."
"Understood," Jun and Vernon replied in unison, the words hanging heavily in the room.
Dino clenched his fists, repeating to himself that this was all for Jeonghan's safety, that the plan—detailed to perfection—was essential. But the unease remained, weighing on him in the tense silence that followed.
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The night
Vernon's POV
It was my first time here, in this dimly lit café that stood across from Jeonghan's flower shop. I'd arrived five minutes ago, enough time to order an Americano, set up my laptop, and position myself in the corner, a spot with a view of the shop. Tonight, the café was quiet, a low hum of conversation from a few other customers and the soft clinks of cups and saucers from behind the counter. The place was... warm. Not the kind of environment I frequented. But it was perfect for tonight's purpose.
I'd been monitoring the flower shop's activity for hours already. The shop had extra hands tonight: a tall guy and a shorter one, moving around the space as they tidied up. My coffee was almost gone, though I hadn't even noticed. Time slipped by, and I was too absorbed in tracking every detail, every face, until I heard the soft jingle of the café door's bell, catching my attention.
I glanced up out of habit, expecting another customer or some late-night straggler. But then, I saw him.
He was young, around my age, with an unmistakable energy that seemed to fill the entire space. He walked in wearing an apron—a floral shop apron—and his hands were full of freshly cut flowers. They seemed like an extension of him, bright and full of life, like he was. As he moved across the room, there was this lightness, a bounce in his step. A kind of happiness I couldn't even place, like the room bent around him, reacting to his presence alone. He greeted the café owner with an easy grin and a jump, almost like they were old friends.
A wave of realization hit me. He was from the flower shop.
Somehow, I'd missed him. How had I not seen him earlier? The whole time I'd been watching, tracking every person in and out, and I missed him. He was right there, and I hadn't even noticed. 
I felt this strange twist in my chest, an unexpected pang of something that felt like... envy? He radiated something that felt rare and unreachable.
My phone buzzed. A new message: Hoshi: We've confirmed Jeonghan will close the shop by 8:30. Get ready.
I looked back up, and he was gone. A flash of frustration surged through me. But as if responding to my thoughts, he reappeared, now in the café's apron, weaving between tables. And as I watched, a foreign feeling stirred within me—a raw urge I couldn't explain, a desire to trade lives for a moment, to know what it was like to have that effortless light. In that fraction of a second, the thought struck: if I had this one person in my life, it would feel like something finally fit.
Then, as if he'd sensed my gaze, he turned and walked toward me. I dropped my eyes, my jaw set, focusing back on my laptop. His steps got closer, and I felt this intense need to hide any sign of interest, to bury the strange envy that clung to me.
"Excuse me," a voice broke through my haze, light and warm, like he'd been carrying that same energy straight to me. "Would you like a refill?"
I looked up, and there he was. Up close, he had these bright, open eyes, and a smile so genuine it seemed unbreakable.
"No, I'm fine," I said, coldly, the words clipped and impersonal. But he didn't flinch. He just kept smiling, not shaken in the slightest by my tone.
"You're new here, right?" he asked, leaning slightly forward as he extended his hand. "I'm Seungkwan."
There it was—a name for the feeling that had been pricking at me since he walked in. Hesitantly, I took his hand, the touch startlingly warm. "Vernon," I replied, the name slipping out before I could think of something to deflect him. A simple handshake shouldn't have felt like much, but his grip sent this unexpected shiver down my spine, grounding and unsettling all at once.
Seungkwan pulled his hand back, his gaze lingering for a second as though sizing me up. "Nice to meet you, Vernon. Hope you'll drop by more often!" He flashed that same disarming smile and glanced toward the door. "But actually, we're closing up soon."
His words hit me as I looked at the clock—8:25 PM. Right. The shop was about to close. Flustered, I nodded, quickly gathering my things. But as I slung my bag over my shoulder, I couldn't help but notice him chatting with another worker—a tall guy with a relaxed, easygoing stance, who ruffled Seungkwan's hair with an affectionate familiarity that made my stomach twist with an emotion I hadn't expected.
I tightened my grip on the door handle, my gaze lingering on the reflection in the café's glass as Seungkwan's laugh filtered through the quiet, mingling with the clinking dishes and murmurs.
Shaking myself out of it, I slipped out into the night air, feeling the chill bite against my skin as I walked to the car parked a few doors down. My phone buzzed again. Jun: Update?
I breathed out, steadying myself as I sent back a quick reply. Jeonghan will be heading out alone soon.
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