# Chapter 26.
Director Hong Duyoung. Currently 42 years old. Despite knowing he was still young, Doha couldn’t bring himself to call him hyung. His notable works include “The Servant,” “Occlusion,” and “Fruit Bat,” alternating between critically acclaimed art films and commercially successful mainstream hits. Lee Jaei had been in both his commercial and artistic films.
Jaei had already appeared in four of his works, including his debut and short films. Jaei was famous for being Director Hong’s muse. Through appearing in Hong’s works, Jaei had simultaneously gained recognition as both a box office draw and a serious actor.
Rumors about an inappropriate relationship between Director Hong and Jaei began when they worked on their second film together. Looking at interviews with the two, it was clear they respected each other as artistic partners. Several photos showing them being affectionate during filming and videos of them joking around casually remained as supposed evidence.
The rumors were so outlandish that they didn’t damage Jaei’s popularity or image, but there were still quite a few people who believed them. For the past few years, Doha had diligently reported to the Cyber Investigation Unit those who began their posts with phrases like “I’m part of the staff” or “I know Director Hong personally.” However, at this moment, Doha couldn’t deny that Hong Duyoung was the most likely candidate to be Jaei’s lover.
Right now, Jaei was lying on the sofa with his head on Doha’s thigh, applying a cold compress with an ice pack wrapped in towels and gauze over his eyes. Despite being a devoted fan, Doha had developed a deep distrust of Jaei. While skillfully massaging Jaei’s collarbone and lymph nodes, he asked like a malicious commenter:
“Are you doing something illegal upstairs?”
Melting under Doha’s skillful fingertips, Jaei replied languidly:
“Mmm, things are happening that you couldn’t even imagine. It’s the adult world. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Artists are so cool. Don’t worry, hyung. I won’t report you.”
“Of course you shouldn’t. All my assets are yours anyway.”
“Huh? You don’t think I confessed to you because I’m after your money, do you? I’m suddenly worried you might have misunderstood.”
With a worried expression, Doha cutely pushed out his lower lip and began moving his hands down to massage Jaei’s armpits and chest. Jaei sharply inhaled and curled his toes.
“It’s okay if you are. My parents’ money can’t be yours, but all my money is yours. If anyone tries to bother you, tell me. Say I have a lot of money, so don’t mess with me. If they do, they’ll all be in big trouble.”
At Jaei’s response, Doha’s smile disappeared from his face, and he answered seriously:
“It’s really not about the money. I could die for you, hyung. I’m serious.”
“…”
“Of course, I’d appreciate it if you took responsibility for me for life.”
Doha said this jokingly after his serious confession. What Doha didn’t notice was that from the moment he’d laid his head on his thigh, Jaei had been doing his best to control his emotions. Today, he had finally confirmed the true identity of Ryu Seungha. He was growing up normally in the family his mother had created with her new husband.
Jaei was now convinced that Lee Doha was the reincarnation of Ryu Doha. And because of this, he was waging a fierce battle between the instinct of love and the reason of morality.
If he were the same age as Doha now, he would have accepted his confession without hesitation. But Ryu Doha, who had returned from hell with his demerits erased and memories wiped, was too young. No matter how he calculated, it was morally impossible to date him.
He couldn’t shed tears of joy at seeing his lover who had returned to life, couldn’t express the sadness and happiness he felt having before him someone he’d been in a long-term relationship with since he was eight, couldn’t even kiss his lips. His heart felt like it would burst from being unable to express anything to the person he loved so deeply that his body felt like it would break apart.
Like a drowning puppy, he shook his head vigorously, causing the ice pack and towel on his eyes to fall to the floor. He stared with a dazed expression at Doha, who was massaging every inch of his body. He finally accepted the person he had been actively denying was Ryu Doha whenever they were awake together. While suppressing all the complex emotions he was feeling, he silently offered a prayer of gratitude for the miracle Doha had given him.
Ryu Doha, who had been the most popular student throughout his six years in elementary school, enjoyed the same popularity as Lee Doha. And under Jaei’s protection, he had safely grown to nineteen years old. He had grown up even better than Jaei had imagined in his childhood. He was a beautiful boy with everything from the bones and flesh that made up his face and body, to his gaze and skin. As if entranced, Jaei called his name with an emotional voice:
“Doha.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t die quickly. I really want to live for a long time now. With the person I love.”
At Jaei’s words, Doha smiled brightly with sad eyes. He interpreted Jaei’s declaration of longevity as ‘because he had found a lover in this world,’ but regardless of the reason, it was a joyous thing. He felt grateful to Jaei’s lover. Although one corner of his heart felt like it was tearing apart painfully and suffocatingly from his unrequited love, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Hyung, thank you so much. I have to mark today as a special day. June 22nd.”
After responding with an emotional voice, Doha soon hid his contorted face with a cushion. Jaei caressed his pitiful cheek. His fingers quickly became wet.
For a very long time, there had been one person Jaei desperately wanted to kill with his own hands. That was the Lee Jaei who had ultimately caused Doha’s death on the night he was dying. The death Jaei had so desired was both a means to meet Doha again and a punishment he imposed on himself.
But now Jaei had to forgive himself. He believed that Doha had returned to forgive him. So he too had to forgive himself in order to hold onto life and live happily beside the returned Doha.
After finally forgiving himself and lifting his punishment after 12 years, Jaei grasped Doha’s white hand. Rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb, he spoke deliberately:
“You’ll live longer. Don’t die before me. Let’s live happily for a long time. And when we’ve lived long enough to be sick of it, then you watch me die. You be there for my funeral too. Tell people that day. That I was a demanding and troublesome person until the day I died.”
“Why are you suddenly saying such things? I don’t like this.”
Doha put down the cushion and pressed Jaei’s cheek firmly with his palm, on the verge of tears. Jaei, who began crying along with Doha, soon burst into laughter. This was a sorrowful request, an earnest plea, and a solemn warning. He never wanted to lose Doha again.
He laid Doha in his bed and patted his shoulders until he fell asleep. Jaei couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, admiring his lovely face. Listening to the breathing of his lover who had returned to him, he tossed and turned with an excited heart, eventually accepting that he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.
To resist the urge to kiss Doha, he turned on the light and looked for something else to do. He took out his tablet PC and sat against the headboard of the bed. It was to check the script of Hong Duyoung’s new work that he had sent.
Hong Duyoung’s new work was something he had been working on intermittently for about 10 years, he said. He was the type to prepare multiple works simultaneously over a long period. That was his working method.
When an idea for a film occurred to him, he would create a similar situation in reality, then observe what unfolded afterward over a long period of time, confirm how the characters changed, and reconstruct that narrative, he said. He claimed that what humans in specific situations actually said in reality was more dramatic than any dialogue created by any writer.
In fact, when Jaei heard this, he thought Hong simply lacked the ability to write dialogue. He also thought that his works weren’t entirely his own. While working together as equals, he had discovered many disappointing aspects, but he was still a director with many strengths.
However, one thing Jaei wondered was where on earth he had experienced something like the film “The Servant.” He didn’t like the idea of being in the master’s position, and he liked the idea of being in the servant’s position even less.
“Ugh, I feel sick.”
Uncomfortable after imagining the private life of an acquaintance, Jaei thumped his chest with his fist before beginning to read the synopsis.
The protagonist’s profession was a dance director. The role Jaei had been offered was a dancer who communicated with the director through their work. In anticipation of someday playing such a role, he had briefly attended dance lessons as a child. More precisely, his mother had made him attend. The only memories that remained were of struggling due to a lack of physical strength and muscle.
Dance director A favored the young dancer B. B was born with sensitivity and delicate expressiveness twice that of others. A loved B’s innate talent and precariousness. So he wanted to make B the lead in the new world-class stage he was preparing. But then B’s peer colleague C appeared.
B, with his sharp waves, met C, who was as calm as a lake, and gradually became assimilated to him, eventually developing feelings beyond camaraderie. A thought that B’s talent had faded and eliminated him from the lead role audition. And deliberately chose C as the protagonist.
His screenplay was so blatantly telling the story of Lee Jaei and Ryu Doha. No, it was telling the story of himself watching Lee Jaei and Ryu Doha. Until then, Jaei had thought Hong’s rudeness in reconstructing their story without permission and his excessive self-consciousness in trying to insert his presence between them was concerning.
Is there anyone who wonders what he thinks about Lee Jaei and Ryu Doha? At least Jaei didn’t. Doha probably wouldn’t either.
