And so he parted with Jeong Minho in front of the dormitory. He wasted time needlessly sending him away when Minho had insisted on escorting him all the way to Magnolia Hall.
The moment Woojae was left alone, he clenched his fist against the nausea that surged violently within him. The more he thought about it, the more horrifying it became. Someone had died—shouldn’t that be at least somewhat regrettable? But he couldn’t ask that. Because here, I’m the strange one.
“Urgh…!”
In the end, he vomited at the base of a large tree in front of Magnolia Hall. Everything he’d eaten came up. He retched until even his stomach acid came out. It was a tree he’d secretly thought was magnificent, but now he felt sorry for it.
“Haa, ha…”
His pale fingertips trembled pathetically. The weather that had been pleasant just a few hours ago had turned gloomy. From the darkening sky, thunder that resembled a beast’s cry fell. Rain that came down with perfect timing soaked Woojae. For the tree suddenly drenched in vomit, it was a good thing, but for the pale-faced Woojae, it was not. The rain fell in thick, fierce lines, but he had no luxury to take shelter right away. Of all times, the weather had to turn like this.
—Oppa, Mom and Dad…
From his memories, Nari’s voice, younger than now and mixed with tears, rang vividly in his ears. Ah, I feel like I’m going to die. But I can’t even die, I just feel like shit. He should go inside the dormitory right away, but the nausea hadn’t subsided, making it difficult to move.
“Whew… My esophagus is completely wrecked.”
After taking deep breaths for a while, Woojae shoved his hand into his bag and pulled out a water bottle. He poured what remained—about half—into his mouth, which still had that disgusting sensation, and rinsed several times. Should’ve just eaten cafeteria food. It pissed him off even more to have thrown up something expensive.
“This fucking sucks. Fuck…”
Woojae cursed harshly as he crushed the water bottle. Tears that had formed from retching flowed down his pale cheeks, but the downpour that happened to fall at that moment hid the traces of his tears. His fluffy hair instantly absorbed so much moisture that he looked like someone who had fallen into water.
—I couldn’t have told you in advance, right? That it was a car accident…
He heard Jeong Minho’s voice tinged with laughter. Even though there was nothing left to throw up, his stomach kept churning.
—…Still, it’s fortunate it was instant death, at least.
What the hell is fortunate about that? Two framed funeral portraits placed side by side in a modest funeral hall flashed through his mind. Some terrible memories never fade no matter how much time passes. His eyes kept reddening. Like a normal person, he’d been stitching together a patchwork imitation of others, but rotten pus kept seeping through the gaps in that hastily sewn leather.
“Hck, ah… Ah, fuck…”
This time it wasn’t physiological tears. Hot tears gushed like a spring from his bloodshot eyes. Woojae was breathing roughly in the pouring rain, crying without a sound.
Memories that came like seizures felt like they were eating away at his brain. Woojae mixed his tears half and half with the rainwater flowing down his face, his wet hands clenched tight. Even in this situation, he had the extremely practical thought that it was fortunate he hadn’t come out wearing an outer layer. Because washing and drying an outer layer would be annoying.
“…”
Suddenly, the rain that had been painfully beating his entire body stopped as if it were a lie. Did the rain stop? But in the view before his eyes, it was still raining. The tree branches swaying in the fierce rain looked nothing but pitiful. Then what was covering his head right now? Woojae staggered and lifted his head. A pitch-black umbrella was shielding him from above. He pressed down hard on his reddened eyes and turned around.
“What are you doing?”
“…”
“I asked what you’re doing.”
A low but strange voice threw out a reprimand. It was Gye Sajun. He was half-soaked from holding out the umbrella to him.
“…Fuck off.”
Woojae answered in a low voice, hoping the moisture wouldn’t be noticeable in his tone. In the end, this guy was the same, no different from Jeong Minho. He’s just another alpha bastard. Woojae practically shoved aside Gye Sajun, who was trying to hold the umbrella over him, and walked toward Magnolia Hall, then stopped. It’s where the alphas live. Why did I… come here? The tranquil building looked like a den of terrible monsters. Woojae bit his lip and swallowed his sobs.
“Go Woojae.”
“…”
“What’s wrong, seriously.”
Gye Sajun was holding onto Woojae’s right arm with a voice tinged with worry that didn’t suit him at all, urging him on. His hot, large hand felt heavy. It wasn’t like Magnolia Hall, which only alphas could enter, would collapse just because he was standing here. Woojae pretended to be fine and shook off Gye Sajun’s hand as he moved his feet.
“What’s it to you.”
When he opened the dormitory door, completely soaked, he saw that the side door that didn’t require a card tap was open. They say they prioritize security—how funny. The security guard must have dragged something heavy through and not closed the door afterward. Since Woojae had no luxury to fish out his card key from his bag, he went straight inside through that door.
“Go Woojae.”
“…”
“Can’t you hear me? If you go in like that, it won’t register and you’ll get a text saying you’re out for the night.”
Who cares. There’s no one to worry about me staying out anyway. What would you know, growing up in a good home eating warm meals and being loved? While he walked quickly toward the elevator, Gye Sajun followed him tirelessly. Why now? What whim is this again? After turning away back then like that.
Come to think of it, he was a guy full of whims. Ignoring him, then approaching him, acting annoying, then suddenly asking to kiss—and then ignoring him again. Ah, this really fucking sucks. Why are there only shitty things like this?
“Talk to me.”
Before he could press the close button, Gye Sajun stepped inside the elevator door. Woojae roughly wiped his eyes with the back of his wet hand and pressed the button for the 7th floor. Gye Sajun was now silently staring at Woojae’s face intently. He was so annoyed he felt like he might lose it. Of all people, why did this bastard have to catch him like this?
“…What are you staring at.”
“I’m asking if something happened.”
What’s it to you? It was an answer that didn’t need to be said aloud. As soon as they arrived at the 7th floor, Woojae walked past Gye Sajun. The fact that he had to walk the same corridor as this guy was especially annoying today, but if he just went into his room first, that would be the end of it, so there was no need to care more.
“Go Woojae!”
Before he could even find his card key, his forearm was grabbed again by a large hand. His mood was a wreck, and with Gye Sajun interfering on top of that, Woojae couldn’t stand it anymore and strongly shoved the guy’s upper body with his elbow. A loud bang echoed through the quiet corridor. Gye Sajun, flustered by the sudden use of force, hit the wall with his eyes wide open.
“I said fuck off.”
Woojae muttered in a voice that carried anxiety. No matter who looked, it wasn’t a stable appearance.
“Why are you crying?”
“Fuck, what’s it to you!”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?!”
Gye Sajun rarely raised his voice. In the end, this guy is the same too. All alpha bastards are the same. They’re all lowly, they get forgiven no matter what wrong they commit, and…!
“Go Woojae.”
“Don’t say my name.”
“What did that bastard Jeong Minho do?”
Unlike the cold last conversation in his memory, Gye Sajun’s voice was burning hot. Of course, Woojae right now had no luxury to care about such things.
“Mind your own business.”
“How can I not care when you’re crying like this!”
If it hadn’t been for the thunder, that shout would have echoed loudly through the corridor. He’d already been bothered by the rumor that he’d fought with Gye Sajun. He instinctively looked around, and his voice lowered.
“…You’re crying right now.”
At Gye Sajun’s words, Woojae finally realized. The tears he thought had stopped were still flowing. He’d thought it was rainwater running down his hair, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Deflated, Woojae withdrew the arm he’d used to push Gye Sajun.
“Ah, fuck. How embarrassing.”
“What happened? I don’t know how many times I’m asking this.”
Gye Sajun took a step closer to Woojae and asked with a sunken expression. He wondered if those wavering eyes looked that way because of his own tears.
“Nothing happened, and even if something did, it’s not for you to worry about, so go on your way.”
“Let’s talk in my room. No, follow me this way.”
“I said I’m not going!”
“You want to show Bang Minwook that you’re crying too? Follow me quietly.”
Despite Woojae’s refusal, Gye Sajun told him to follow. The tears that wouldn’t stop were shitty, and in the midst of it all, he really didn’t want to show this state to Bang Minwook either, so it was a dilemma. Ah, I really want to beat everyone up and go home. Gye Sajun opened the emergency exit door at the end of the corridor, not his own room, and led Woojae to a space that served as both a balcony and smoking room. Thinking whatever happens, happens, he trudged along, and Gye Sajun threw open the heavy wooden door.
“Sit.”
“Ha… Yeah. Fuck. Thanks so much for thinking of me. Thank you. I’ll calm down here and go in, so you can leave now too.”
“Wipe.”
Ah, really… Gye Sajun kept speaking in imperative form, which was annoying, but he accepted the handkerchief for now. On the navy handkerchief, ‘Gye Sajun’ was written in white thread in a tacky way. It was the guy’s name. Sa as in scholar? How ridiculous. Really, it was a terribly unsuited name. What kind of scholar in the world would crush people and rub their lips? For a guy like that, scoundrel would suit him better. Woojae snickered, pursing his lips.
“…I’ll wash it and give it back, so will you leave?”
Woojae pressed down hard to wipe the tears that kept flowing against his will, muttering to himself to please just leave. He hated himself the most. The self-loathing that had been sleeping deep in his stomach rose up thickly. Gye Sajun was unmoved. Is he really crazy?
“I’m asking what happened.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“…Don’t piss me off and tell me straight.”
“Are you interrogating me?”
It was absurd. Just because he’d been seen crying, did he deserve this treatment? There was no bond between them in the first place, so he had no idea why he was so obsessed with seeing him cry like this. Maybe he’d left someone crying before and got severely scolded for it.
