After silently staring at Gi-hyeon for a moment, Gwok Un dismissed the servants. They bowed respectfully to their master as they left the bedroom, then shoved Gi-hyeon’s shoulder on their way out. The corners of Gi-hyeon’s eyes trembled with humiliation.
Once the two of them were left alone in the bedroom, Gwok Un spoke.
“That’s right.”
“…….”
“You caused all this fuss over something so trivial?”
“I quit.”
So this was the reason for the sense of wrongness he’d felt when he first arrived at the mansion — the reason all the servants had treated him so rudely. It felt as though everything he’d earned through twenty-nine years of effort was slipping away like sand through his fingers. Gi-hyeon’s jaw ground with shame. But Gwok Un remained unfazed by his seething fury.
“They were all more or less the same, so I just picked the best-looking one from the bunch. Is that a problem?”
“How can you say something like——!”
“There’s nothing to be gained from having pride in this industry.”
“Easy for someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth to act like he knows everything. What do you know?”
Gwok Un faltered at Gi-hyeon’s sharp, cutting words. The eyes of a man who was usually composed even when those beneath him crossed a line were now shot through with blood. The air in the bedroom pulled taut. A grim voice settled over the room like a cold shadow.
“At least I know more than someone who hasn’t even made their debut. You think you’re the only one who’s ever heard that kind of thing?”
“…….”
“No matter how hard I work or prove myself over six years, everyone talks to me the same way. Because I have money, because I’m young, because I’m gay!!!”
Gwok Un advanced on Gi-hyeon with furious steps, as though he might charge at him at any moment. Flames raged in his eyes as he closed the distance to just inches away.
“Yes, I chose you for your looks. But so what? If you got your chance because of something you were born with, shouldn’t you just prove yourself? If you don’t like it, quit — there’s a line of people waiting to take your place.”
“…….”
“But remember this: a writer who can’t prove themselves is useless to anyone, anywhere.”
Gwok Un crumpled Gi-hyeon’s shirt collar and crushed his pride along with it. He pointed toward the door.
“If you understand, get out. Pull this kind of stunt one more time and you’re done.”
At Gwok Un’s words, the waiting servants grabbed Gi-hyeon’s arms, where he stood frozen like a stone statue. Sickle-like smiles curved on the lips of the servants dragging him away. Their smiles tore through Gi-hyeon’s lungs, shredding them to pieces.
Gi-hyeon lay on the bed and surrendered his body to helplessness. Blood pooled thick inside his split mouth. Anger, shame, disillusionment. His mind was clouded with every kind of negative emotion. He could see neither an immediate solution nor any path forward.
“Writer-nim, dinner is——…… Good heavens.”
Gi-hyeon didn’t open his eyes even at Do-gyeom’s voice. In the silence, he could hear the sound of Do-gyeom moving busily about and the sound of drawers opening and closing. Soon, he sensed a presence on the other side of the bed.
“It hurts, but please bear with it for just a moment.”
As the antiseptic seeped into the wound, Gi-hyeon’s brow furrowed with the sting. Do-gyeom carefully tended to his injuries. With each gentle touch, Gi-hyeon felt the frozen parts of his heart begin to thaw, just a little.
“……Do-gyeom-ssi, did you know too?”
“I just found out.”
Do-gyeom applied ointment to the corner of Gi-hyeon’s blood-stained mouth. He tended to the wound while watching Gi-hyeon with worried eyes. The sharp gaze that had once been arrogantly self-assured was now shadowed with disillusionment. Do-gyeom cautiously opened his mouth.
“I don’t know much about art since I’ve only ever glimpsed it over someone’s shoulder, but I could tell that you’re remarkable, Writer-nim.”
“…….”
“The way you see your subject differently from others, and the way you draw that out. It’s not just talent — the way you push yourself without stopping, it was impressive. Did you know there are already four full boxes of discarded paper from the studio?”
The gentleness in his soft voice reached Gi-hyeon. Do-gyeom comforted him in his own blunt way — kind but dry.
“The Young Master may have chosen you for that reason, but I don’t think that’s all there is to it. The Young Master holds incompetent people in contempt. If you had no talent as others say, you wouldn’t have made it onto the list, and you wouldn’t have been brought here at all.”
“…….”
“That reason may have been the catalyst, but it certainly wasn’t everything. Please don’t let yourself be hurt by the words of people who don’t know you.”
When he placed a bandage near Gi-hyeon’s eye, Gi-hyeon opened his eyes and pulled Do-gyeom toward him. Do-gyeom’s lips, caught beneath his, were far softer than he’d imagined. As Gi-hyeon rubbed and sucked against his stiff tongue, he finally realized this was what he’d been wanting to do all along. In the midst of losing himself in Do-gyeom, Gi-hyeon spoke.
“Is this your way of comforting me?”
His voice, steeped in pleasure, stretched out languidly. As their wet lips brushed together, Gi-hyeon let out a low moan and smiled.
“Then this much isn’t nearly enough.”
Gi-hyeon bit down on Do-gyeom’s lips. The rage that had risen all the way to his throat suddenly redirected itself into sexual arousal. Anticipation of the pleasure to follow ran down his spine, desire igniting along his nerve endings. It felt like a shackle being undone. It’s this easy — why had he hesitated so much? Caught between shame and excitement, and a rush of liberation, his reason blurred. Gi-hyeon slid his hand under Do-gyeom’s shirt and ran it along his waist. He buried his face against Do-gyeom’s nape.
“Ngh——!”
The pale, smooth skin smelled of fresh grass. Gi-hyeon wanted to softly lick his neck, and at the same time he wanted to sink his teeth in until it tasted of blood. Torn between those contradictory impulses, he dragged his tongue slowly up Do-gyeom’s neck. The taste of the tender skin traveled along his tongue. Lost in Do-gyeom like that, Gi-hyeon felt an unsettling shift in the air and stilled his movements.
“……?”
Gi-hyeon raised only his gaze and looked at Do-gyeom. Through his arousal-clouded eyes, he could see that Do-gyeom’s face had gone completely white. Startled, Gi-hyeon pulled back — and Do-gyeom shoved against his chest and bolted from the room. Gi-hyeon watched as Do-gyeom vanished like a mirage, his eyes dazed.
Gi-hyeon stood in the shower, letting the water pound down on him, and knocked his forehead against the bathroom wall.
Over the past few days, he had been searching for Do-gyeom to apologize, but he hadn’t been able to catch so much as a single strand of his hair. Do-gyeom was openly avoiding him. Yet, as though his warm nature was simply who he was, he must have been sneaking around while Gi-hyeon wasn’t there — placing everything Gi-hyeon needed in exactly the right spots — and it was making Gi-hyeon’s blood run dry. While he was banging his head against the wall in self-reproach, the bathroom door opened.
“Huh?”
Do-gyeom, who had opened the bathroom door, froze at the sight of Gi-hyeon completely bare. Gi-hyeon stared blankly as Do-gyeom began flushing red from the neck up, the color spreading gradually. The towels Do-gyeom had been cradling tumbled to the floor one by one.
“I’m so sorry——!!”
The slam of the door brought Gi-hyeon back to his senses, and he let out a silent scream.
After somehow managing to finish his shower, he cleared his throat and came downstairs to the first floor. His ears kept heating up because of what had happened a moment ago. He rubbed at his reddened earlobe. What on earth am I doing at my age — this isn’t a game of hide and seek. Gi-hyeon rubbed his tired eyes and looked away. The rain that had been falling all weekend seemed to have stopped — sunlight was streaming into the living room. He gazed quietly at the lush greenery that had come back to life in the sunlight. He had some breathing room in his work, and since Do-gyeom was nowhere to be seen, a walk to clear his head seemed like a good idea.
Gi-hyeon turned his steps toward the garden. The paths that had once turned his stomach were now familiar enough to even be enjoyable. He strolled leisurely through the garden, listening to the sound of the sprinklers turning. The flowers that had been bowing their heads under the torrential rain looked more vibrant now than they had before the rain came. He had been walking endlessly along the winding, serpentine paths when he suddenly glanced down at his watch.
Time had passed by in the blink of an eye. Gi-hyeon was about to turn back toward the mansion when he paused. Something was moving behind the statue submerged in the lake. He squinted and peered at the statue — a white elbow flashed into view, then disappeared. He muffled his footsteps as he drew closer, and a familiar silhouette came into view. Gi-hyeon, now standing before the lake, gripped the railing.
“Want some help?”
Do-gyeom, who had been cleaning the statue, startled and turned around. Gi-hyeon scratched his forehead with an awkward smile.
“…….”
As the silence stretched on, Gi-hyeon rolled up his slacks and stepped into the lake. The water was deeper than expected, and the fabric he’d rolled up got soaked through anyway. Do-gyeom was flustered by Gi-hyeon wading toward him through the water.
“Writer-nim, your clothes——”
“It’s hot out, so it works out nicely.”
Gi-hyeon reached for the basin set beside Do-gyeom, and Do-gyeom stepped back. It was a reaction like they were back to square one. Gi-hyeon’s heart grew heavy, but he acted unbothered and began cleaning the statue. Between them, nothing could be heard but the shrilling of cicadas.
“I made a mistake last time.”
At the barely audible voice, Do-gyeom looked at him. His gaze brought back the memory of what happened in the bathroom. Gi-hyeon’s cheeks flushed. All of a sudden, the words he’d prepared seemed to go completely blank. He stumbled on.
“I’m truly sorry. My reason back then…… Ah, I’m not making excuses. It was entirely my fault.”
“…….”
“What I did was wrong without a single shred of justification, but it wasn’t because I think lightly of you, Do-gyeom-ssi. I know it may have come across that way, but to me, you’re not that kind of person. If it’s possible — if it’s all right with you — I’d like things to go back to the way they were before.”
“…….”
“I won’t act so recklessly again. If you want to hit me, you can hit me until your anger is gone. I mean it.”
Gi-hyeon could barely tell whether he was cleaning the statue or the statue was cleaning him. The sweat that had soaked into his palm seeped into the brush. Gi-hyeon, who had been speaking as though in confession, closed his eyes. He was curious what kind of expression Do-gyeom was wearing, but he didn’t have the courage to look. Despite his sincere apology, there was still no reply.
“Ah——!”
Water splashed against the cheek of Gi-hyeon, who had his eyes shut like a prisoner awaiting sentencing. When he opened his eyes, Do-gyeom was smiling brightly, splashing water onto his shoulder.
“This doesn’t seem like you at all, Writer-nim. It wasn’t intentional, but I did peek too, so let’s call it even.”
In the sunlight, Do-gyeom shone brilliantly. Gi-hyeon let out a wordless sound, as if he’d forgotten language itself. The summer that had settled on that clear face was unrealistically beautiful. The light flowing through his hair, the water droplets scattering and glittering……. He watched the young man standing among the lush greenery, utterly bewitched. He thought he had only dipped his feet in, but he was already in the middle of the river.
Gi-hyeon prodded at his food with a look of disappointment. Under normal circumstances he would have been dining with Do-gyeom, but tonight he was alone. In the living room, the servants were gathered in a cozy cluster, soaking dried fruit in wine. Among them, Do-gyeom stood out like an isolated island set apart from the rest. His small head bobbed slightly — he must have been concentrating on something. Gi-hyeon smiled faintly at the sight.
“Without the Young Master around, I could die of loneliness every night.”
