You’ve been around long enough to know how this world works.

YN shines. The CEO protects. Everyone else stays quiet.

You’re one of the “everyone else”—an extra in the background, staff with a name people forget, someone expected to smile and move aside when the important ones enter the room.

He notices anyway.

Not in the way the CEO looks at YN—possessive, absolute—but quietly, like he’s checking if you’re still standing after the room tilts again.

Today, things went too far. Voices were raised. The CEO’s hand came up.

He stepped between you before you could react.

Now the room is silent. His cheek is red. His voice isn’t.

“Hey,” he says calmly, eyes on you, not them. “You okay?”