The nape of Bernard’s neck stiffened rigidly. Crouched down tightly, he couldn’t even hide his tense appearance and panted for breath. Ben, who had been staring at that sight, burst into laughter. It was like the act of plucking the wings off a caught dragonfly. Enjoying the suffering of a small creature fluttering around not knowing what to do, slowly strangling it.
“It’s a joke. Why are you so tense? Did you forget? I said I watch fun things for a long time.”
Ben’s words were true. In college, there was someone Bernard had watched with favorable feelings, and Ben, who noticed it, waited until that emotion ripened appropriately, then one day exposed it without warning in front of students. The female student who became the target couldn’t bear the humiliation and ran out of the lecture hall, and those who remained giggled and mocked Bernard’s feelings.
“I’ll keep it a secret. Calm down.”
Ben’s words dragged on. Voices floating around babbling to satisfy base curiosity, saying there were things he needed to do in return, asking since when he’d been in that kind of relationship with Hurt. Bernard couldn’t hear his voice properly at all, so he even slapped his own cheek once. He wasn’t even conscious that this was a birthday party and that he needed to return to the party hall soon. Then, a familiar voice interjected.
“Oh my. What are you keeping secret?”
“Ah, huh?”
Sweet champagne was poured over the babbling Ben’s head. The mouth that had been chattering with an excited face finally closed. With a dumbfounded expression, Ben looked up above his head. Bernard did the same.
“…Mr. Hurt?”
“As if we know each other.”
Rubens, who had left saying he’d go out to meet Elliot, was in front of them. He was smiling affably despite committing the rudeness of pouring alcohol, the champagne glass appearing from who knows where. Bernard hurriedly looked around, but Elliot himself was nowhere to be seen. That was fortunate at least. Even though he was soaking wet, Ben couldn’t protest anything and just stupidly wiped his face.
“So, this is.”
“Try it.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m telling you to try whatever blackmail you want.”
Without asking for permission, Rubens took a drag on his cigarette. He tilted his head looking at Ben, who got up from below and tried to clean up his wet face with a handkerchief. As if the fire wouldn’t light well in the night breeze, the sound of flicking the Zippo lighter several times was heard in succession while he cupped his hand around the cigarette.
“You’re not… in a position to be so confident, are you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“If Elliot finds out that you’re two-timing while having a lover.”
Ben, who had been hesitantly watching for an opening, raised his voice. Only Bernard looked around anxiously, worried that someone might hear their conversation. But only boisterous laughter could be heard faintly from inside the building. In the quiet place, only the acrid smoke from Rubens’s cigarette spread.
“People sometimes mistake themselves for being great when those around them become great.”
“I’ll expose everything!”
“Let’s take it easy.”
Rubens flicked his cigarette ash beyond the railing. Bernard was caught between the three of them, not knowing what to do, just fiddling with his fingertips. When he tried to join the conversation, Rubens’s expression looking back at him was somehow fierce. His blue eyes loosely scanned Bernard. It was like drawing a line that couldn’t be crossed.
“Even if you babble, it’s only meaningful when there’s someone to listen to you, isn’t it?”
Rubens hadn’t moved a single step from where he stood, but he looked enormously large. Ben flinched and stiffened at those words, then carefully examined the other’s face. Unfortunately, that was already the behavior of prey overwhelmed by force.
“You can spread rumors. If you can, that is. It would be good to check who will listen. People only realize impossibility and despair after trying one by one.”
“Are… aren’t you afraid of the press?”
“Why would I bother with such rusty pens swayed by money.”
Haha, a refreshing laugh rang out. Rubens firmly grabbed Ben by the collar. Unable to resist, Ben, whose body was lifted into the air, dangled in a position where his toes could barely touch the floor. The sight of him desperately groping and clutching at his forearm, struggling as if suffocating, was miserable.
“I hope you know your place, Ben Foster.”
With the pushing force, Ben fell like a fallen leaf. The sound of him tumbling down into the darkness could be heard. It was a matter of course that Bernard’s face turned white. This was the building’s entrance, and although it was low, there were stairs right in front. It was common for people who rolled down stairs to get hurt. A beat late, crying sounds were heard from below, hidden in the night shadows. Rubens pulled back Bernard, who was looking over the railing in confusion.
“I’ll sue… I will… I will!”
“Get lost.”
The cigarette butt he threw down seemed to have landed unluckily on Ben. A scream was heard once more but was soon buried. Bernard alternately looked at Ben’s form limping away in the darkness and at Rubens.
“Why did you help me?”
It was a question that came out without awareness. He should have said thank you first. Or perhaps it would have been right to ask where Elliot was or to say he was sorry. But the question that came out first was like that, and Rubens just looked at him expressionlessly.
Bernard stood there blankly, just looking at the place where Ben had left. The traces of champagne pooled on the stone floor proved the commotion from just before. If he let him go like that, he might really cause trouble, but he didn’t have the energy to run after and catch him. If it weren’t for Rubens, he felt dizzy enough to collapse on the floor right away.
“I thought you’d say thank you.”
“…I think you did something unnecessary.”
“Why?”
“You’ll make an enemy.”
Bernard’s voice was frail. Rather than talking about the present, it was somehow a voice trapped in the past. Perhaps it seemed more so because his gaze wasn’t directed at Rubens. Bernard said emptily.
“He might really spread rumors.”
He had grown up plagued by various rumors all his life. Rumors that he was jealous of Elliot, slander that he’d ruined things because of it, nonsense that Elliot had been sick all this time because he deliberately neglected his twin.
Countless rumors had piled up layer upon layer, crushing him. So he knew well how agonizing a tool others’ tongues could be. And probably Rubens knew that well too, yet it was hard to guess why he acted so recklessly like this.
“It will be difficult to explain.”
“Well.”
Rubens didn’t deny it. Bernard stood there blankly like someone whose soul had left, facing the night breeze. As he staggered and leaned against the railing, Rubens caught his shoulder again. When there was a faint cigarette light, his expression could be seen well, but now it was in complete darkness, so it was difficult to read Rubens’s face. The light extending from behind made the shadows deeper.
“Misunderstandings aren’t something you need to worry about.”
“No one likes being misunderstood. Wouldn’t that be true for you too, Mr. Hurt?”
The blurred end of his sentence was completely crushed. Bernard had to explain countless misunderstandings throughout his life, yet Rubens spoke easily as if such things were nothing. Bernard muttered unconsciously in what seemed like a sarcastic tone.
“Because you’re competent enough to block all the newspapers?”
“My answer was that it’s not an area for Bernard Weil to worry about.”
Rubens’s voice was somewhat cool. At just such an answer, Bernard’s heart crumbled. Like an overripe fruit softening completely while giving off a sweet smell, it was exactly that much emotion. Bernard didn’t know what expression to make, so he just smiled. Come to think of it, hadn’t he already experienced it when removing Elliot’s stalker? Rubens had great enough power to control all the media no matter what happened.
“Ah. I presumptuously, impertinently worried…”
Why does belated emotion keep leaving traces like this? Bernard thought the emotion he’d built up high was rotting fragrantly. What’s rotten has no answer. It all must be cut away. He wasn’t beneficial to Bernard in any way. There was no need to worry about such a man. No reason to like him either, just an emotion that should be cut like radishes. That’s right. Bernard knew it desperately too.
“Were you scared?”
“…Yes. Perhaps.”
“Of such a trivial target?”
“I’m always afraid of other people.”
Many things frightened Bernard. Everything surrounding Bernard could hurt him. So he always had to defend himself with his nerves on edge, sensitively. Even so, he failed every time.
“Really? It’s hard to understand.”
“Mr. Hurt wouldn’t know this kind of fear at all.”
It was a strange feeling. Like the moment he spent his first night with him. Bernard felt like all the locks on his tongue had been released. Words came out easily and belated fear followed. Rubens’s faint voice cut through the air.
“Sometimes even I have things I fear…”
The blue eyes facing him were intense. Even though he knew Rubens wouldn’t give him a shred of emotion, the emotion pooled in Rubens’s eyes was so deep that Bernard couldn’t breathe. He wanted to ask why he was saying such things to him. Bringing him to the party hall and pushing him to be mocked, dragging him outside to humiliate him, then helping at an unexpected moment. And then he couldn’t guess the reason for putting on his lips words that seemed to show his tender flesh. As if giving him room.
What could this man have to fear? Investment results? Important human relationships? Family problems? Or romantic affairs? It seemed like he wouldn’t fear any of it. Yet seeing himself trapped in those eyes that just stared without saying anything more, Bernard strangely felt like he knew the answer.
He thought he was passing through an emotional station that would soon end. He thought he’d almost arrived, but the terminal went dark again. It was just like passing through a long, dark tunnel.
“I let go of a contract to call you out. Do you know that?”
It was hard to guess what matter he was talking about. This party, or perhaps a previous meeting. Or maybe something from even longer ago. He was always busy, and he remembered Elliot complaining that it was difficult to date.
“But why is it that I don’t regret it?”
Unbelievably, his voice was damp.
