“A place where adults would go.” The moment he heard those words, hotels, motels, and various other “-tels” popped into Seungyeon’s head. Not because he was particularly promiscuous, but because Yoon Taerim’s past behavior and the nuance felt in his every breath naturally led Seungyeon in that direction.
Should I not follow him?
Setting aside Yoon Taerim’s promiscuity, did they really need to hold hands and go on dates all lovey-dovey? Yoon Taerim had suggested a contract to separate Jung Sanho, not to actually date. In other words, there was no need to put on an act where Jung Sanho couldn’t see them.
“Um, since we’re on the topic… do we really need to be this… enthusiastic? It’s not like Jung Sanho can watch everything we do anyway.”
The car happened to stop at a red light. Yoon Taerim, lightly gripping the steering wheel, nodded as if he understood.
“I’m not trying to leech off you either, Seungyeon-ssi, so don’t worry about that. To be honest, I’m actually not that interested in you.”
He stepped on the accelerator as the light turned green. Once they reached an open road, Yoon Taerim’s expression finally brightened.
“Wow. The road’s finally clear. I’m absolutely never coming to an amusement park in May for the next 10 years. Seriously, isn’t this impossible without decent stamina? Unless you leave your car behind.”
“Look who’s talking… I feel the same way, you know?”
“Right? Oh, now that I think about it, you said you took a taxi yesterday? Sanho doesn’t have a license. He’s got a car, but the driver takes care of the driving.”
“No, forget the license—I’m not interested in him either.”
Seungyeon corrected him clearly. He could tolerate other misunderstandings, but he couldn’t stand being seen as someone who had some kind of ulterior motive toward Yoon Taerim. He had eyes too. Jung Sanho was at least cute, but a gloomy, sleazy pervert like Yoon Taerim was unwelcome even if offered for free.
“I have absolutely no intention of leeching off you, okay? I also have something called taste and preferences. If you hadn’t brought up the contract, we would never, ever have met again.”
Even when Seungyeon first met Yoon Taerim, he’d thought he should never meet that guy again. Things just hadn’t gone his way—not once had Seungyeon’s will been involved in any of this.
When Seungyeon’s expression turned serious, Yoon Taerim’s face became subtle. He asked with a smile, casually probing.
“Really? Then what’s your type, Seungyeon-ssi?”
“I only look at one thing.”
Seungyeon stubbornly crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat. From when he was very young until now, Seungyeon’s ideal type boiled down to one thing. Whether they had money, a pretty face, or a good personality—those were secondary issues. Didn’t they say you know ten things from seeing one? It was the same with ideal types.
“Someone who treats my mom well.”
Yoon Taerim observed Seungyeon’s resolute expression and muttered quietly.
“A filial son…”
At the ambiguous remark—whether it was admiration or sarcasm—Seungyeon quickly added an explanation.
“Not just my mom specifically, but fundamentally someone who treats elders well, you know? I like that kind of person. Polite, sociable, things like that.”
“But how did you come to have that ideal type? Seungyeon-ssi, were you raised by your grandparents or something?”
“Not that, but my mom had me as a late… well, anyway. An ideal type is an ideal type, right? Does there have to be a reason?”
This world’s Baek Seungyeon wasn’t a late-born child, so it was a bit awkward to explain. Before more strange things came out, he glossed over it and turned the arrow toward Yoon Taerim.
“What about you? What’s your ideal type? If you’re going to say something perverted like last time, just don’t say anything.”
He quickly added the last part, recalling how Taerim had gone on about sex. Yoon Taerim chuckled and tilted his head.
“Ideal type… Well, I don’t know…”
He lightly tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. For someone who’d pondered for a while, the answer came lightly.
“Someone who doesn’t look it but is actually bold? You know how they say ‘the quiet cat climbs the kitchen shelf first’? Someone like that ‘quiet cat.'”
“That’s vague yet specific.”
Yoon Taerim let out a chuckle. He turned his head to meet Seungyeon’s gaze.
“So honestly, when I first met Baek Seungyeon-ssi, I really liked you. You were exactly my type, you know? Looking like that but acting…”
He swallowed the rest, but the nuance wasn’t lost. Seungyeon’s expression turned serious as he pointed at the windshield.
“I get that, but can’t you just look ahead when driving? If you’re going to keep driving half-heartedly like that, I’ll just do it.”
Seungyeon cut him off before another perverted conversation could continue.
“Hm? Are you good at driving, Seungyeon-ssi?”
“I’m not bad at it.”
He’d once been a supercar owner, after all, and Seungyeon was fairly confident in his driving experience.
“Really? That’s unexpected.”
“The car’s starting to move. Aren’t you going?”
A honk sounded from the car behind them. Watching Yoon Taerim step on the accelerator, Seungyeon swallowed a sigh. In his heart, he offered silent consolation to the driver behind them. Sorry for the shitty driving, but it wasn’t really me, so please just curse at the driver.
“I like elders too.”
“What?”
Seungyeon, who’d been lost in other thoughts, belatedly responded. Yoon Taerim shrugged.
“I was raised by a grandmother. Not my real grandmother, but a nanny who raised me from childhood. She’d been taking care of household matters for my mother since she was young, so she was practically family. I actually became a Korean medicine doctor because of her. From when I was little, I’d often go to the Korean medicine clinic with her. The atmosphere there was always so nice every time we went. So, well, I defied my father’s opposition and decided to become a Korean medicine doctor.”
For something said in a casual tone, it was quite a serious story. Seungyeon quietly listened to Yoon Taerim’s words.
“The son who’d never rebelled suddenly said he wanted to become a Korean medicine doctor, so at first, the whole household was in chaos. They tried persuading, appeasing, threatening—every trick in the book—but when nothing worked, my parents gave up first. In the end, I got into the College of Korean Medicine, opened my practice, and now I’m eating well and living well.”
“You were really… unfilial.”
“Puhaha.”
At Yoon Taerim’s laughter, Seungyeon scratched his head. Did I say that too bluntly?
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just thought you were really stubborn too.”
Is this also kind of insulting? Even if he wanted to sugarcoat it somehow, the right words wouldn’t come. After hesitating for a while, Seungyeon carefully opened his mouth.
“Taking care of your own life isn’t as easy as you’d think. Even when you’re desperately trying, not many people acknowledge that you’re struggling. And if the people closest to you point fingers saying you’re wrong, it’s really hard to endure. Anyone would waver, wouldn’t they?”
Defying your father’s opposition to decide your career path was easier said than done—Seungyeon knew it was a harder problem than it seemed. Even his older brothers and sisters had gone through a period of agonizing over such issues. Having watched all of that from right beside them, he could guess that what Yoon Taerim had casually said couldn’t have been easy at all.
“So, well… I think it’s admirable. Not just anyone can be unfilial.”
Seungyeon scratched his chin and turned his head toward the car window. How did this conversation even come up? Before the atmosphere could get more awkward, he hurriedly mumbled an excuse.
“Not that I respect being unfilial or anything. Just that, everyone has their circumstances. You know what I mean, right?”
“Of course. I understand.”
At the answer tinged with laughter, Seungyeon glanced over. His eyes met Yoon Taerim’s, who had been staring at him intently—though he didn’t know since when. The smiling face didn’t look displeased, at least.
The car happened to enter the parking lot, and the lighting dimmed. The parking lot lights reflected off Yoon Taerim’s profile as he slowly focused ahead. The orangish light softly illuminated his straight nose bridge.
“This is the third time we’ve met, or is it the fourth?”
Tap tap—the movement of his fingers tapping the steering wheel slowed slightly. Yoon Taerim blinked leisurely, like someone savoring something.
“Your first impression was so intense that I thought I might be mistaken, but after meeting you several times, I get it. It wasn’t a mistake—your personality only stood out particularly that first time we met. Like you became a different person after that?”
He couldn’t help but flinch at the unexpectedly sharp observation. As if it hadn’t been a question expecting an answer, Yoon Taerim muttered while turning the steering wheel sharply.
“There’s no way a person changed, so I must have misjudged. Or maybe you’ve always had this current personality, and you just played coy at first?”
Seungyeon had nothing to add to Yoon Taerim’s discussion of first impressions. He’d need to know exactly what happened to make excuses, but Seungyeon truly had no idea what had happened at his first meeting with Yoon Taerim.
No, actually, he didn’t want to know. Just the rough “apparently that’s what happened” circumstance was already damaging enough—did he really need to know it in detail? Really? Necessarily?
At times like this, it was best to just brazen it out. Seungyeon responded as nonchalantly as possible.
“I suddenly decided to turn over a new leaf one day. That’s probably why.”
Yoon Taerim just shrugged without any particular reaction.
After parking, he turned off the engine. Just as he was about to unfasten his seatbelt and get out, Yoon Taerim’s low voice broke the silence.
“But I like the reformed Seungyeon-ssi a bit more. Though it’s a shame you’re further from my ideal type.”
