MR.JEON 💜📖 Part 35 From Home to Headlines
Author's POV
The weeks after the formal dinner turned out to be surprisingly peaceful.
No tension.
No awkwardness.
Just... quiet normalcy.
The intimidating weight of Jungkook's "CEO" title seemed to disappear the moment he stepped through the door of Y/N's home. Inside those walls, he wasn't the powerful heir of a conglomerate.
He was just Jungkook.
And slowly, almost naturally, he became part of their everyday life.
He never arrived with extravagant gifts or flashy surprises.
Instead, he showed up with simple things.
A bag of fresh oranges for Eomma.
A new gaming mouse for Min-Jae after hearing him complain about lag during an online match.
Small things.
Thoughtful things.
Things that made him look less like a powerful businessman and more like someone who simply... belonged there.
One Saturday afternoon, Y/N stepped into the living room expecting the usual quiet.
Instead, she froze.
The scene in front of her was something she never imagined she'd witness in her lifetime.
Jungkook was kneeling near the kitchen sink.
His expensive dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms as he worked under the faucet with a wrench in his hand.
Beside him, Eomma stood with a towel while Min-Jae hovered nearby like a self-appointed supervisor.
Min-Jae crossed his arms dramatically.
Min-Jae:
"Hyung, if you twist it too hard we're going to have an indoor swimming pool."
He paused thoughtfully.
Min-Jae:
"And I haven't learned to swim yet."
Jungkook grunted slightly as he tightened a bolt.
Jungkook:
"Trust me, Min-Jae."
He adjusted the wrench.
Jungkook:
"I've managed multi-billion won mergers."
He glanced over his shoulder.
Jungkook:
"I think I can handle a kitchen sink."
Eomma handed him a towel, her voice gentle but amused.
Eomma:
"Mergers don't involve rusty pipes, Jungkook."
She pointed toward the faucet.
Eomma:
"Be careful."
Y/N leaned against the kitchen doorway quietly, watching the scene unfold.
Her chest felt strangely warm.
Dangerously full.
Seeing Jungkook—one of the most powerful men in the country—sitting on the floor of their tiny kitchen fixing plumbing with her family...
It made her heart ache in the best way.
She cleared her throat.
Y/N:
"Should I call a professional..."
She crossed her arms.
Y/N:
"Or are the three of you planning to stay there all day?"
Jungkook looked up.
There was a small smudge of grease on his cheek.
When he saw her, his face immediately broke into a bright, boyish grin.
The kind that made her breath catch every single time.
Jungkook:
"We're almost done."
He nodded toward Eomma.
Jungkook:
"Your mom is a very strict supervisor."
Min-Jae snorted.
Later that evening, the house settled into a calm silence.
The sun had already dipped below the buildings, leaving the sky painted in soft violet and gold.
Y/N and Jungkook sat side by side on the small balcony outside her room.
A single cup of tea rested between them.
The city hummed quietly below.
Y/N looked at him, still slightly amused.
Y/N:
"I never thought I'd see you fixing a sink in my house."
Jungkook smiled softly.
He reached over and took her hand.
His thumb traced slow circles against her skin.
Jungkook:
"I like it here."
His voice was quieter than usual.
Gentler.
Jungkook:
"It's peaceful."
He glanced around the small balcony.
Jungkook:
"It feels like... a real life."
He exhaled softly.
Jungkook:
"Not a performance."
Before Y/N could respond, the balcony door opened.
Eomma stepped outside carrying a plate of sliced fruit.
She placed it on the small table.
But instead of leaving immediately, she paused.
Her eyes lingered on them.
On the way Jungkook still held Y/N's hand.
After a moment she spoke calmly.
Eomma:
"Y/N."
Y/N looked up.
Y/N:
"Yes, Eomma?"
Eomma nodded toward the hallway.
Eomma:
"Go inside and check the laundry for a second."
Y/N blinked.
Y/N:
"Yes, Eomma."
She stood up slowly.
Before stepping inside, she glanced nervously toward Jungkook.
He gave her a small reassuring nod.
As she entered the house, she paused just behind the doorframe.
Close enough to hear.
Hidden enough not to be seen.
Eomma sat down across from Jungkook.
The evening breeze moved gently through the balcony.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Eomma sighed softly.
Eomma:
"You know, Jungkook..."
Her voice was thoughtful.
Eomma:
"When you first came here, I was worried."
Jungkook straightened slightly.
He listened carefully.
Eomma:
"I thought your world would swallow her."
Her gaze softened.
Eomma:
"I thought she would disappear inside it."
Jungkook nodded quietly.
Jungkook:
"I understand why you felt that way, Ma'am."
Eomma studied his expression.
Then she smiled faintly.
Eomma:
"But I've been watching you."
She gestured toward the house.
Toward the sink he had fixed.
Toward the oranges he always brought.
Toward the quiet way he looked at Y/N.
Eomma:
"You don't make her look small."
Her voice softened.
Eomma:
"You look at her like she's the one holding the world together."
She folded her hands together.
Eomma:
"As a mother..."
Her eyes warmed.
Eomma:
"That's all I ever wanted for her."
Jungkook swallowed.
Emotion tightened his voice.
Jungkook:
"She is holding my world together."
He bowed his head slightly.
Jungkook:
"Thank you for trusting me with her."
Behind the door, Y/N pressed her hand against her mouth.
Her eyes stung.
But peace rarely lasts forever.
And the storm came without warning.
It started like any other Tuesday.
Y/N had her headphones in as she stepped off the bus, quietly scrolling through her grocery list.
Eggs.
Soy sauce.
Rice.
The morning air was cool, and the city buzzed with the usual workday rhythm.
But as she turned the corner toward the Jeon Group headquarters, something felt... wrong.
The entrance was completely blocked.
Dozens of news vans crowded the street.
Satellite dishes pointed toward the sky.
Reporters packed the sidewalk like a wall of moving bodies.
Y/N frowned.
Y/N (thinking):
What's going on?
She slowed her steps.
Was there an accident?
Trying not to attract attention, she lowered her head and walked toward the edge of the crowd.
She just needed to slip through quietly.
But she was still wearing the same coat.
The one from the leaked photos.
Suddenly—
A man holding a massive camera froze.
His eyes darted between his phone and her face.
Recognition sparked instantly.
He pointed.
And shouted.
Reporter:
"THAT'S HER!"
His voice cut through the noise like a siren.
Reporter:
"That's the woman from the photo!"
Everything exploded.
The entire crowd shifted toward her.
The sound of shouting grew deafening.
Within seconds, reporters surrounded her from every side.
Microphones were shoved inches from her face.
Cameras flashed rapidly.
Blinding her.
Someone pushed her backward until her spine hit one of the stone pillars near the entrance.
Questions slammed into her like bullets.
Reporter:
"How long have you been seducing the CEO?"
Reporter:
"Did you join the company to target Chairman Jeon?"
Reporter:
"Is it true you're only with him for the settlement money?"
Y/N's breath caught in her throat.
Her hands flew to her ears.
Y/N:
"Please—"
Her voice trembled.
Y/N:
"Please let me through."
Another camera pushed closer.
Flashes exploded in her eyes.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Y/N:
"I just... I have to go to work."
Her breathing became shallow.
Fast.
Panicked.
Y/N:
"Please stop..."
But no one listened.
To them, she wasn't a person.
She was a headline.
And for the first time since everything began—
Y/N felt completely, terrifyingly alone.