and maybe there’s a light that flicks on in the faint corner of dongmin’s brain. a shiver up his spine. yes–
“i know you don’t listen to a lot of things i say,” dongmin leans forward. “but if you listen to anything…. i wouldn’t get too comfortable with him.”
leaning back, there’s a glint in his eye. “it’s a bit too Risky… no matter the steps you have planned ahead.”
ilhwan isn’t uncouth enough to snort at dongmin’s words, but he produces a barely-there scoff. “if by fun, you mean riddled with mayhem, then undoubtedly they’re unlike me.” the temperance lineage, in comparison to its brother lineages, didn’t have typical pledges to begin with.
there’s ryu changho, whom he’s known for quite some time: the mad hatter of the upper class with a past matching the dark hues of society’s underbelly, someone who cares more about the challenge of archery on horseback or some sort of new levitating board technology rather than making an appearance at charity events.
and then there’s cha suyeon, a rising entertainment persona whose parents ilhwan is more familiar with than the person himself. the only thing he knows for certain about the other is that there was a recent scandal that followed him into his candidacy, and the other seems more enthusiastic to make the lineage over changho.
he can’t say which pledge would be the best to cast his lot with at this point in time. neither of them fit in his projections of what’s to come, both short-term and long-term, but if either were to approach him, perhaps his neutrality would change.
when dongmin’s eyes drift to some point in front of them, ilhwan knows what their conversation will turn to next. dongmin has always delicately side-stepped names and figures whenever he manages to catch him unguarded, but there’s a metaphorically large elephant that he now seems brave enough to address.
“if you mean my partnership with jaehyun, then the benefits are certainly worth more than the risks.” he observes the strange glint in dongmin’s eyes, cast by the chandeliers abovehead. not many people know the sordid details about jaehyun and dongmin’s falling out, but jaehyun has never been one to keep his mouth shut around ilhwan. it’s almost a pity that dongmin was discarded like common trash in the end.
“i take the route of what is the most beneficial to me,” ilhwan continues. “you seem to be under the assumption that just because i prefer to hold absolute authority and supervision, that means i’ll abstain from partnerships...”
he swirls his flute. “but you see, dongmin, the choice to partner is something i still hold control over. there is no reason why i can’t be in a supervisory position in a cooperation. even the old masters of europe in the 19th century allowed pupils to paint in their name.”
perhaps it would have been better to compare himself to a watch crown—ilhwan has always been keen on watches. the crown, a crucial component of a wristwatch, provides the energy necessary for internal movement to occur… but that movement still relies on cogs to tick along, and he requires many, many cogs to fulfill his ambitions.
“it’s interesting you tell me not to trust jaehyun,” ilhwan says. “it’s not like you to be altruistic without a price in mind. unless… your shared history is behind your sudden generosity?”