Prologue
Ding-dong, ding-dong!
I opened my eyes to the sound of the doorbell. Everything was blurry, and I felt cold. What time was it? I blinked a few times, trying to focus on the clock.
3 PM. Still two hours before Hahyun was supposed to arrive.
If it wasn’t him, then who was at the door? Probably just some kid playing a prank.
I closed my eyes again, dismissing it. When I opened them a moment later, my body was trembling. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or the cold.
“You’re awake.”
I turned toward the voice. Hahyun. The clock now read 5 PM. Like always, I ignored him and looked away.
“Ah, right. You don’t talk to me anymore. I keep forgetting. Hahaha.”
His unsettling laugh echoed in my ears. Ever since Hahyun had trapped me here, I’d given up hope long ago. But today, somehow, the will to live flickered inside me again.
“Hyung, if you don’t want to answer, just nod.”
How long had it been since I’d had water? My throat was so dry I couldn’t have answered even if I wanted to.
“You’re thirsty, aren’t you?”
Normally I wouldn’t have reacted, but the moment he said it, my thirst became unbearable. I nodded.
“I’ll give you water, so make sure you drink it properly.”
A moment later, his lips pressed against mine. I thrashed violently, my bound limbs straining as I rejected him with everything I had.
“You said you were thirsty. Then open your mouth. Are you afraid I’m going to kiss you?”
This wasn’t how I wanted water…
Reluctantly, I parted my lips. Cold, refreshing water flowed into my mouth. The relief of my thirst being quenched made me stop resisting, and I drank greedily from what he gave me.
“Look how obedient you are when I give you water. I should have done this from the beginning. All that suffering for nothing. Though it’s too late now…”
Hahyun stared at me with unfocused eyes, rubbing his forehead.
“…More.”
“Huh? More? You’ve already had so much…”
Even as he protested, Hahyun filled his mouth with the remaining water and pressed his lips to mine again.
The reality of kissing this bastard I hated was horrifying. But today, the water tasted too sweet to refuse.
“Do you like it?”
“…”
I didn’t answer, but whatever he read into my silence made him smile, his eyes crinkling. Then he began touching me, massaging different parts of my body.
“They say it takes time for the drug to kick in, and it’s painful until it does. I’ll massage you so it circulates faster. I don’t mind being in pain, but you shouldn’t have to be.”
He drugged the water?
Now that I thought about it, I’d been feeling strangely weak for a while now.
After massaging me for some time, Hahyun kissed me again and grinned. I heard the rustle of fabric. He climbed onto the bed naked.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go alone. After you fall asleep peacefully, I’ll follow right behind you.”
My consciousness was growing hazier by the second. I could hear his voice but couldn’t process what he was saying.
“Yoon Juwon, I’m sorry. You know the reason I have to do this is all because of you, right?”
His body felt hot against my skin.
“Hyung, Juwon hyung, I love you.”
Hahyun kept calling my name, kept saying he loved me.
“Juwon, I love you.”
Just let me sleep already, I get it! I was tormented by Hahyun’s voice when I didn’t even have the strength to speak. Had he developed a new form of torture?
When I forced my eyes open to glare at him, I saw him crying as he moved on top of me. I understood what was happening, but the fact that I couldn’t resist—couldn’t feel anything—terrified me. Soon even that thought faded away.
“In the next life, please love me back, hyung.”
***
“You call this a novel!”
This was the first novel that had ever taken me this long to finish. If it had been a physical book, I would’ve thrown it across the room, but I couldn’t risk breaking my phone.
The novel I’d just finished was a BL called Sin in the Name of Love, written by my friend. After reading it, I was struggling to recover from the shock.
I was fine with the whole men-loving-men thing—that wasn’t the issue. The content was the problem.
Setting aside technical aspects like structure and plausibility, shouldn’t commercial fiction that depends on reader satisfaction avoid being absolutely repulsive?
The plot went something like this: Seo Hahyun, the top, was obsessively in love with Yoon Juwon, the bottom. Unfortunately, the bottom despised him. Unable to handle the rejection, the top not only imprisoned him but ended up killing him. And then had the audacity to claim it was all the bottom’s fault.
What was she thinking when she wrote this?
As I sat there reeling from what I’d just read, Hyunju—the author—called me. How she knew I’d finished, I had no idea. She was like a ghost.
“Hello?”
“How was it? Pretty killer, right? The serialization’s been getting great responses, so I don’t really need feedback, but still—point out a few things before I submit it.”
“…”
Did Kim Hyunju seriously think fixing a few minor issues would salvage this trainwreck of a novel? I found it hard to believe it had gotten positive responses. She had to be lying to save face.
“Hello? Hey, Kim Sojin, are you listening? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I’m listening, but… ugh…”
“Why are you sighing at someone’s precious work? You’re a writer too.”
I wanted to snap at being lumped together with Kim Hyunju as “a writer,” but I held back and addressed what bothered me most.
“Did the ending really have to be like that? Don’t movies and commercial novels need happy endings to appeal to audiences? If you’re not planning to publish this, write whatever you want, but if you are, shouldn’t you change it?”
I might not be famous, but I’d debuted relatively young, and a movie had been made from one of my screenplays. I was more than qualified to give feedback to an aspiring writer.
However, after a brief silence, Hyunju suddenly exploded.
“Did you actually read my novel properly?”
“I read it, so obviously I know what happens.”
“This is ridiculous. How can a screenwriter have such poor reading comprehension? My novel has a perfectly happy ending! Don’t you understand the concept of eternal love consummated through death?”
“Right, you’re the genius author.”
I should’ve known. Most aspiring writers who asked for my feedback would get defensive like this when I gave honest opinions. If I’d just pointed out some inconsistencies in the setting, it would’ve been easier. But strangely, this novel didn’t leave room for that. Maybe because the bottom was too pitiful?
“I think you’re saying this because you don’t really understand BL…”
Sensing she was about to launch into a lecture on BL theory, I quickly cut her off.
“Hyunju, your novel is good. Really. But if you fix just one thing, I think it could be a masterpiece.”
“What is it?”
Her tone softened a bit at my sudden change of tune.
“Yoon Juwon is a model who rejects Hahyun because he’s afraid of scandals, right?”
“Of course. My boy has excellent professional instincts. He’s also very driven to succeed.”
“…Right, right. That’s exactly what’s weird. He seems like a completely different person at the end compared to someone who was desperately trying to survive. He gives up way too easily. Even asking for water first seems off. He was suspicious of everything, but then his attitude changes too drastically.”
“I was worried about that part too.”
Hyunju seemed to mull it over, falling silent after my evidence-based critique. But her conclusion, after a long pause, left me stunned.
“I guess I’ll have to go with the classic approach.”
“Classic?”
“I’ll take him to the basement. I’ll have to figure out what happens there, but…”
“…”
“What do you think? If Hahyun locks him in a pitch-black basement and does whatever he wants, Juwon would have no choice but to submit, right?”
“H-Hyunju. Can we just meet up and talk about this?”
It wasn’t the character who was insane—it was the author. Was this really the same Kim Hyunju I’d known for five years? I tell her to save the protagonists for a happy ending, and she wants to lock them in a basement. She’s completely unhinged.
Actually, there were other things I wanted to mention. Even after reading the entire novel, there was no explanation for why Hahyun was so obsessed with Juwon. Sure, they say a top in BL doesn’t need a reason to love the bottom, but shouldn’t there be something convincing despite the lack of logic?
Unable to stop myself from meddling, I finally decided to meet Hyunju in person and left the house. I started up my old car and pulled out of the parking lot.
But just my luck. Even though there weren’t many cars on the road at this hour, some maniac was coming straight at me from the wrong direction. Probably drunk in the middle of the day.
Screeeeech!
I jerked the steering wheel as hard as I could, but there was no avoiding the crash.
