Gi-hyeon looked down at the first-floor hall from the staircase railing. Brilliant light cascaded from the chandelier to every corner of the room. Gwok Un’s collection — things money alone could not buy — hung densely across every wall, and reflected in the transparent glassware were the gallery directors, artists, sponsors, and collectors who dominated the art world, engaged in lively conversation. The spectacle, more lavish and extravagant than any other party, seemed to flaunt that he remained standing even in the wake of Gam Eun-hyeong’s death. The ensemble gracefully neutralized what could otherwise have looked garish.
Gi-hyeon had no trouble spotting Gwok Un among the crowd of people dripping in money. Dressed in a deep navy suit, he was more understated than anyone else in the room, yet radiated a presence more distinct than anyone there. Sensing a gaze on him, Gwok Un looked up toward the third floor. At that transparent look that seemed to say what are you doing up there — come down, Gi-hyeon descended the stairs and made his way to him. Ordinarily countless people would have surrounded him, but today only a man and a woman were at his side. As Gi-hyeon approached, the woman stopped mid-sentence. Cat-like eyes swept him from head to toe. When he met her rude gaze head-on, she retreated behind the man.
“Looks like that man’s fallen for me.”
At the coquettish murmur, the man burst out laughing and ruffled the woman’s hair. The man, who had been gazing at her with fond eyes, turned to look at Gi-hyeon. He had a gentle impression similar to the woman’s, but what stood out were his noticeably small pupils that made him look sharp. The man wound the woman’s long hair around his finger and spoke languidly.
“Who was it again, from before……”
“Are you talking about Gam Eun-hyeong?”
“Ah, right. Is he something like that?”
“Oppa, watch your mouth. Last time you did that, Uni sold off the stock, remember.”
“Right. Sorry — you know I’m joking, right?”
The man pressed his palms together playfully and winked. Gwok Un smiled and pointed his champagne glass toward Gi-hyeon.
“He doesn’t even compare to Eun-hyeong.”
At Gwok Un’s words, they burst out laughing. But Gi-hyeon, the very one receiving the full package of insults, felt nothing — as though it were someone else’s business entirely. Whether his complete lack of reaction intrigued her, the woman’s eyes lit up with interest. She extended her hand toward Gi-hyeon.
“I’m Eun Jae-yeong, Executive Director at Q Entertainment. And your name?”
When Gi-hyeon glanced at the hand held out to him and looked away, the woman’s eyes snapped up. Hostility bloomed on that flower-like face, making her look like a different person. The man took her hand in his stead.
“Easy — we didn’t come here to make a scene.”
Their conversation was worth less to Gi-hyeon than the symphony the ensemble was playing. He let their words wash over him and gazed idly around the hall. At the far corner of the hall, he spotted Do-gyeom struggling to carry a stack of empty dishes. Gi-hyeon turned without hesitation. He weaved through the crowd, came up alongside Do-gyeom, and walked with him. Gi-hyeon plucked the tray out of Do-gyeom’s hands. Startled to find his hands suddenly empty, Do-gyeom’s eyes went wide. Gi-hyeon grinned.
“I just drop it off in the kitchen, right?”
“No, it’s fine. Please give it back.”
“It’s taken care of.”
When he came back after returning the tray in Do-gyeom’s place, Jae-yeong and the man were laughing quietly with their shoulders shaking. Unlike them, Gwok Un’s face was dry. The man, composing himself, nudged Gwok Un’s elbow.
“What’s going on — aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Even at the prodding, Gwok Un said nothing. The man offered Gi-hyeon a handshake. Gi-hyeon took his hand. Despite his gentle face, the man’s hand was thick with calluses.
“Eun Jae-min, Director at Q Entertainment.”
“I’m Kim Gi-hyeon.”
“You’re an artist, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“We’re also planning to establish a gallery early next year — it would be wonderful if we could build a good connection.”
Even as the conversation flowed smoothly, Gwok Un took no part in it and stared only at the marble floor. He had been merely listening to their exchange when he finally spoke.
“Go find somewhere else to play now.”
“It’s been ages — isn’t that a bit cold? You haven’t been coming to gatherings either…… How much I’ve missed you!”
Even as Jae-yeong hung off his shoulder with affectionate charm, Gwok Un remained silent. Sensing the odd undercurrent, Jae-min wrapped an arm around Jae-yeong’s waist and murmured tenderly.
“Let’s go.”
Nestled in his arms, Jae-yeong cast a sideways glance at Gi-hyeon. She reached into her handbag and held out a business card. When Gi-hyeon simply looked at the card being offered without taking it, Jae-yeong flicked her fingers.
“What are you doing — aren’t you going to take it? My arm’s about to fall off.”
At Jae-yeong’s prompting, Gi-hyeon accepted the card. She smiled and ran her hand down Jae-min’s shoulder. The woman’s red fingernails flashed as they caught the light of the chandelier.
“I can’t match Uni, but I can do a fair amount — so if you ever get thrown away, give me a call.”
At her suggestive voice, Jae-min squeezed her waist tighter, and she burst out laughing. Gwok Un muttered lowly. Something grim seeped into his voice.
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
“Ha ha, well then — we’ll be off. See you later.”
Jae-min ushered Jae-yeong away from the spot. Once they’d moved off, Gwok Un turned his back to the crowd and fixed his glare on Gi-hyeon. Even under that ice-cold gaze, Gi-hyeon muttered serenely.
“Birds of a feather.”
“……Keep acting like this and you’ll regret it.”
Gwok Un stepped on Gi-hyeon’s foot and moved toward a gaunt woman nearby. The woman, who looked intensely high-strung thanks to her silver hair and sharp features, smiled brightly and gave him a brief embrace. Gi-hyeon, watching the scene, moved to Gwok Un’s side.
“President Gwok, I heard the news. Are you all right?”
“Thanks to your concern, I’m all right — thank you for thinking of me.”
“My goodness. That handsome face has gone half to nothing.”
The woman, who had been stroking Gwok Un’s cheek with what seemed like sympathy, sensed another presence and looked at Gi-hyeon.
“And who might this be?”
“He’s the artist I’ve decided to sponsor this time.”
“How do you do — I’m Kim Gi-hyeon.”
“I’m Noh Hye-eun. I don’t recognize you, but if President Gwok is sponsoring you, that alone makes you interesting to me — introduce us properly.”
At the woman’s introduction, Gi-hyeon’s eyes went wide. The director of Yale is known for being unsociable — she never shows her face at parties. To run into her here. She was a woman with no interest in socializing or politics, yet was a true power in the art world by virtue of her innate eye and experimental projects. The moment Gi-hyeon registered who she was, his shoulders stiffened. Noticing his tension, Gwok Un smoothed a hand down his back and steered the conversation with practiced ease.
“He’s the son of Kim Seung-ho, the painter.”
At Gwok Un’s introduction, the director scrutinized Gi-hyeon shrewdly.
“Is that so? I learned today that the painter had a son. Though didn’t the painter make his debut in his teens?”
“He’s been learning broadly, so it’s taken some time. He hasn’t debuted yet, but you can expect great things.”
“A talent vouched for by President Gwok — I’m genuinely excited. The debut exhibition will be held at Le Mans, I presume?”
Just then, a servant passing by bumped the director’s hand, and the wine in her glass spilled. The red wine ran down the woman’s thin hand. Gi-hyeon reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and offered a handkerchief with a respectful bow. At the sight of the handkerchief in his hand, the director’s eyes folded elegantly.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a young man carrying a handkerchief these days — thank you.”
The director seemed to appreciate his composed, unfussy manner. She carefully wiped her wet hand and emerald ring with the handkerchief. The director looked at the dampened handkerchief with an apologetic smile.
“This has gotten soiled, so I’ll send a new one through President Gwok.”
“That’s quite all right.”
“Nonsense. By the way — do you have a business card yet?”
Gi-hyeon produced a card and handed it to the director. She studied it attentively and tucked it into her handbag.
“Before the exhibition at Le Mans, I’d like to see your portfolio if possible — I’m also curious whether President Gwok’s eye is still as sharp as ever.”
At the playful jab, Gwok Un laughed. As Gi-hyeon laughed along with him, a sharp gaze landed on him. He turned his head in its direction — the Butler was glaring at him with fierce intensity. The Butler seemed to find their warm atmosphere insufferable. Gi-hyeon smirked at his petty display and raised his glass.
Ordinarily, the Butler would have been grinding his teeth at his impertinence — but instead, he let out a scoff. He moved his lips. Gi-hyeon narrowed his eyes and read the Butler’s mouth.
“Watch…… closely?”
“Kyaah!!!”
The Butler shoved Do-gyeom, who was passing by carrying a platter, with the cocktail slide. Caught off guard, Do-gyeom lost his balance, crashed into the cocktail slide, and went down. The glasses stacked in a pyramid shape toppled onto him and shattered spectacularly. Startled by the tremendous crash, the guests screamed and lurched away. Gi-hyeon turned on his heel without hesitation — and Gwok Un seized his wrist as if to snap it.
He whispered to Gi-hyeon in a low voice.
“Are you out of your mind? Do you not know what kind of occasion this is?”
Gi-hyeon shook off the hand around his wrist and ran to Do-gyeom. Do-gyeom, sitting amid broken glasses and shards, seemed unaware of what had just happened to him. Drenched in wine, he looked as though he had been mauled and left bloody by a predator. Gi-hyeon dropped to his knees, removed his jacket, and draped it over Do-gyeom’s shoulders. Turning to leave with Do-gyeom, Gi-hyeon instead sent Do-gyeom behind him and stepped toward the Butler. The Butler was struggling to suppress the upward curve of his lips as he watched Gi-hyeon’s bloodshot eyes. His blood ran backward at that leisurely expression.
“Your face is quite a sight right now.”
“……What do you think you’re doing.”
“That’s exactly why I told you to rein yourself in.”
Gi-hyeon impulsively drew back his fist — then lowered his hand. The hand, gone white from the pressure, trembled violently. The Butler looked at the hand with taut veins and whispered.
“It’s going to get a lot more interesting from here — look forward to it.”
“What?”
“You must know how full of fire men in their twenties are. Arranging for prostitutes on a regular basis was its own kind of work — but thinking about it, I realized there’s someone far more suited to the role. I’ll be sparing myself the trouble from now on.”
Before he could finish his words, Gi-hyeon had already slammed his fist into the Butler’s jaw. At the sudden violence, the crowd screamed and scattered away from them. Looking over the banquet thrown into pandemonium, the Butler smiled with bloodied teeth. Gi-hyeon grabbed him by the throat and pressed hard. The murderous intent that had surged all the way to the top of his skull kept detonating in every corner of him. Even under the crushing grip around his throat, the Butler laughed with a face gone blue. His grotesquely cracking voice was soaked with uncontainable delight.
