It had been during the days when he used to trail after his father to patron gatherings — a banquet hosted by some of the country’s most prominent companies.
Among the political and business figures who formed the backbone of the nation, Gi-hyeon forced a smile onto his face.
But unable to stomach their sly grins and hypocrisy any longer, he retreated to the powder room.
He loosened his bow tie and watched the festivities of someone else’s party with an indifferent eye.
The magnificent chandelier cast a glossy sheen over the faces of important people.
Gi-hyeon rested his chin in his hand and studied their appearances.
They flaunted their wealth brilliantly through the clothes and jewels they wore.
He found their invisible, fierce rivalry with one another rather amusing.
Having lost interest, he sprawled out on the sofa.
Some time passed — and then, in an instant, the atmosphere of the banquet hall snapped taut.
“Well, well — who do we have here?”
As someone entered, the greasy faces around the room split into wide grins.
Gi-hyeon was curious about the man in the flamboyantly patterned suit, but the crowd surrounding him made it impossible to see.
Unlike the man who drew all attention to himself as a matter of course, the man accompanying him kept a distance and stood apart.
The women touching up their makeup in the powder room whispered among themselves.
“Still sponsoring him, it seems?”
“Apparently so.”
“Though they say he had some results at this year’s Venice Biennale — modest ones, of course, compared to the amount of money poured in.”
“That man has been sponsoring him for six years and Gam Eun-hyeong is the only one who’s grown this little in all that time, isn’t he? Whether it’s pride or what, pouring water into a bottomless jar.”
“That sort tends to be like that. Having lived their whole lives never knowing failure thanks to brilliant parents — how humiliating it must be. Then again, they say he goes everywhere with Gam Eun-hyeong — I can’t imagine what he sees in him worth protecting like that.”
“Maybe he’s useless in the art world, but makes himself useful in bed.”
“In bed?”
“Oh my, you didn’t know, ma’am?”
“How revolting — a homosexual.”
“He’s nowhere near the level of President Gwok, but Gam Eun-hyeong isn’t bad — there’s something strange about the air he gives off.”
“Six years — must have been getting plenty out of it. And he’s still keeping him around, so I suppose he must be something.”
Their vulgarity was not concealed in the least by the Cartier and Tiffany they wore.
The women whispered just out of earshot of that man — but that man had already spotted them through the crowd, his eyes locked on them like a ghost.
Those gleaming eyes swept over the women and then came to rest on Gi-hyeon.
The intense gaze that seemed to bind him where he stood made Gi-hyeon hold his breath.
The eyes slid away and turned back to the women.
The women fell silent under the cutting stare now aimed directly at them.
That man slowly extended an arm that looked as though it had grown in the shade.
His long fingers pointed at the women with precision — and drew a slow line across his own throat.
Huh——!
The women, faces drained of color at the threatening gesture, covered their mouths.
The pale man standing beside that man seemed to sense the charged atmosphere and looked around.
Gi-hyeon stared at those blue eyes — blue like moss had settled into them.
Eyes that were damp with solitude and melancholy. Those eyes made him think of an artist who had died young.
“I’ve been told about you by the Chairman — I’m Gam Eun-hyeong.”
The man’s voice pulled Gi-hyeon back to reality.
Only then did Gi-hyeon realize who he was.
The only man who held Gwok Un’s favor — the one they called his soft spot — Gam Eun-hyeong.
“I’m Kim Gi-hyeon.”
At Gi-hyeon’s greeting, Eun-hyeong curved his eyes quietly.
Though he stood with Gwok Un — the most powerful figure in the art world — behind him, his humble manner was likable.
Gwok Un watched Eun-hyeong with proud eyes.
He wrapped a hand around Eun-hyeong’s waist.
“Consider it an honor. Eun-hyeong is going to be so famous soon that you won’t be able to see him even from a distance.”
“Are you going to keep doing that?”
Eun-hyeong scrunched his nose, looking flustered.
He laid his hand over the arm wrapped around his waist and smiled.
“As you can see, Un-i has a playful side. I heard you’ll be living in and working for two hundred days. It’ll be demanding, but I look forward to working with you.”
Even at Eun-hyeong’s warm words, there was no sign of Do-gyeom’s expression brightening.
Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Gi-hyeon moved quickly to end the conversation.
“Yes, likewise — I look forward to it. Well then.”
Gi-hyeon pulled Do-gyeom by the arm and he followed without resistance.
When they arrived at the studio, Gi-hyeon headed toward the table he had prepared in advance.
The wooden table was piled generously with chocolates and snacks.
Gi-hyeon sat down first and patted the chair across from him — and Do-gyeom came over.
He looked at Gi-hyeon with eyes that asked for an explanation.
His previously drooping eyes had lifted, as if he had quickly regained his composure.
Gi-hyeon smiled and lifted a box tied with a red satin ribbon.
At the sight of the symbol embroidered on the ribbon, he let out a small sound.
“I thought you might like this brand of chocolate — I’m glad.”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve never met anyone who dislikes this brand — the most famous in Europe. I didn’t know which kind you preferred, so I bought several — I hope you’ll like them.”
Gi-hyeon carefully slid out the box from the very bottom of the pile.
He set a box printed with a yellow checkered pattern in front of Do-gyeom.
“And this one — I remembered you were eating the madeleines.”
Do-gyeom’s expression as he gazed at the boxes was like someone beholding treasure, and it made him look youthful and lovely.
Once Gi-hyeon had handed over all the boxes, Do-gyeom hesitated.
“I’m not sure whether I should accept these.”
“Consider it a bribe for getting closer — and if you’d model for me too while we’re at it, all the better. Please take them.”
“……Thank you, Artist-nim.”
Do-gyeom accepted the boxes.
He spent some time looking over the gifts with bright, eager eyes — but then his expression clouded, and Gi-hyeon rubbed his chin.
It didn’t seem like the gifts weren’t to his liking — so what on earth is the problem.
He went back over the day’s events in his head but couldn’t find the issue.
For now, he decided to change the subject to shift the mood.
“By the way — why do the people in this house dislike me?”
“Do they treat you that way too, Artist-nim?”
“Not openly, since I’m a guest — but it shows clearly enough.”
“……That’s probably because they think you’re receiving special treatment. There have been many guests, but no one has stayed this long.”
“What does that have to do with them?”
“Because all the servants in the mansion are fond of the Young Master……”
“All of them? Does that include Do-gyeom-ssi?”
“……”
Do-gyeom answered with silence.
Only then did Gi-hyeon understand why Do-gyeom’s expression had gone dark.
Under normal circumstances Gi-hyeon would have smoothly changed the subject — but instead, on impulse, he threw out the question.
“Setting the other servants aside — what is it about that man that you like, Do-gyeom-ssi?”
At the question that pushed into private territory, Do-gyeom’s eyes sharpened.
Gi-hyeon held his gaze steadily even under that cold stare.
Do-gyeom realized this wasn’t something Gi-hyeon had brought up out of simple curiosity, and the sharpness in his eyes eased.
What was he thinking? A faint emotion surfaced in those cool eyes.
But that emotion didn’t look like something a person thinking of a lover would carry.
“I’m not sure.”
“……”
“It just happened — as though it had been decided from the start.”
Do-gyeom looked like someone staring at the ash left behind after a fire has gone out.
The solid wall crumbled in an instant.
Gi-hyeon’s hand, as though gripping a pencil, gave an involuntary twitch.
Do-gyeom turned the words over again — words he had let fall out like surrender — and his face crumpled.
He quickly covered his face and rose from his seat.
“……Excuse me.”
As Do-gyeom pushed out of his seat and left, Gi-hyeon’s restless hand went searching for paper.
Rough, rapid lines pressed down hard against the sheet.
Gi-hyeon lifted the finished croquis.
Even with the satisfying result, he looked troubled.
Is this frustration because I drew an irresistible subject from memory alone — or is it something else……
At a thought that surfaced unbidden, Gi-hyeon crumpled the paper.
***
After eating with Do-gyeom as usual, Gi-hyeon loosened up his hand before getting into the real work.
Swift lines gathered in an instant to build the human form.
Do-gyeom glanced over his shoulder at the dense sheets of paper turning one after another.
When his eyes met Gi-hyeon’s, he went back to wiping the dust from the bookshelf without a word — as if he hadn’t been looking at all.
Gi-hyeon’s gaze, which had been resting on Do-gyeom, drifted down to his feet.
On the ankle bone, balanced on a footrest, a small cluster of dots gathered together.
Gi-hyeon drew the closely packed toes and the well-defined arch of the foot on paper.
He went on to draw the heel and the ankle bone, and was in the middle of adding the dots when —
“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t do anything without permission?”
Gi-hyeon looked up at the voice beside him.
Do-gyeom, brow lightly furrowed, was looking at the drawing.
“Ah, sorry. My eyes just keep going there.”
“Hmm.”
Even under the mild reproach, Gi-hyeon kept moving his hand little by little.
The pencil carefully placed four small dots.
“Which part?”
“The dots on your ankle bone look like a constellation — like gemstones, too.”
Apparently thinking it was empty flattery, Do-gyeom let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard something like that — you’re better at pretty words than I expected.”
“Is that so? That’s also the first time I’ve heard that about myself.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to get on my good side.”
“You caught me.”
“So what would you like me to do?”
The unexpected response made Gi-hyeon look up from the drawing.
Do-gyeom leaned back against the window — light spilling over his hair and shoulders.
“You’ve already paid my modeling fee in chocolate, so I suppose I have no choice.”
He had entered Gi-hyeon’s orbit of his own free will, without coercion or obligation.
Behind the sense of accomplishment at having achieved his initial goal, something else seemed to be taking shape.
A breathless feeling, every muscle pulled taut — Gi-hyeon found this sudden sensation unsettling.
He set down the pencil and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“……As you know, Gwok Un is asking for something obscene. It’ll feel off and it’ll be uncomfortable.”
Gi-hyeon rose from his seat and approached Do-gyeom.
He planted a hand on the window frame with Do-gyeom between him and it.
“If necessary, I’ll touch you. Will that be alright?”
“Before that — may I ask something I’ve been wondering about?”
“By all means.”
“Why does it have to be me?”
Do-gyeom presented the very question Gi-hyeon himself had yet to find an answer to.
For the first time, Gi-hyeon averted his eyes from Do-gyeom.
For some reason, meeting Do-gyeom’s gaze felt difficult.
He lifted his hand from the window frame.
“I’ll tell you that later. Oh — for now, would you change into this and come out?”
