Chapter 15: The Golden Cage
The conference room was silent.
Raiven kept his headphones on, the music turned up to a volume that effectively tuned out the world. He leaned back in the ergonomic chair, a heavy sigh escaping him. He was beyond exhausted. Between filming sponsor content, secret practices, and flying back from Fashion Week, he was lucky if he averaged four hours of sleep a night.
He was the undisputed face of Re-draft. The group's mass appeal was skyrocketing, and the company knew it. To TRace, a member leaving or the group disbanding wasn't just a creative loss,it was a financial catastrophe. They were a revenue machine, fueled by endless merch drops and sold-out stadium tours.
Raiven watched the door. He knew the company was preparing to offer them massive incentives to renew their contracts. The Director was relentless when she wanted something, and right now, she wanted their signatures.
The sharp, rhythmic click-click-click of high heels echoed against the marble floor before she even entered. The members of Re-draft sat up straighter; they all knew that walk. When she finally stepped into the room, she was wearing a rare, practiced smile.
The meeting began. Beside the five members of Re-draft sat their individual managers.
Ash, the leader, looked deeply invested. It was his job to be the bridge, relaying their demands for solo activities and creative freedom. Suho, the youngest, was buried in his phone, likely mid-game.
Normally, the Director would have snapped at him for such a lack of respect, but today she ignored it. Raiven scoffed internally at the pretense.
Suho reminded him of his brother,carefree, unbothered, and protected from the brunt of their mother's ambition. The fact that she was biting her tongue proved just how desperate she was for this contract.
The other two members, Neo and Grey, looked varying degrees of bored. Grey, in particular, remained silent, his lack of feedback making the Director visibly antsy.
She didn't focus much on Raiven. She didn't have to. He was her son, and she had controlled every facet of his existence since he was old enough to walk. What he ate, who he spoke to, the schools he attended_it was all a long-term investment. She had been an idol once, part of a group that had one hit before fading into obscurity. Now, she lived her unfulfilled dreams through him. She was a brilliant businesswoman, a top-tier director, and a legendary manager.
But as a mother, she was a stranger.
When the meeting finally concluded and the paperwork was distributed, she looked at him. "Raiven, stay for a moment."
The room cleared, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.
"How have you been?" she asked. The question felt heavy and artificial.
"Fine," he answered shortly. He would rather be anywhere else.
"Have you considered what I told you?" her voice was monotone, back to business.
"Yes. I'll sign it tomorrow," Raiven said, standing up. "Are we done?"
She lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose, her eyes sharp. "I don't want any more trouble, Raiven."
He didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply. He turned and walked out.
Raiven headed straight for the basement. He'd had his own car delivered to the agency so he wouldn't have to rely on his manager to get home. He needed to unwind, and the air in the building felt like it was being sucked out of his lungs. Meeting his mother always left him feeling suffocated.
"Hyung!"
He had just opened his car door when he heard the call. He turned to see Grey standing a few feet away, nervously scratching the back of his head.
"I... I wanted to ask if you'll be there this weekend?" Grey asked, his voice hopeful.
"Sure," Raiven said curtly.
"Okay. Good." Grey smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Raiven got into the car and pulled away. In the rearview mirror, he saw Grey standing in the middle of the parking garage, looking small and strangely sad. Raiven pushed the thought away as he navigated toward the exit.
His phone buzzed through the car's speakers. He swiped to answer.
"Where are you?" a female voice asked. She sounded tipsy, the words slightly blurred.
"I'm on my way," Raiven said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he merged into the Seoul traffic.