Seonha was especially prone to sleeping a lot. He struggled most with waking up in the morning in particular. When he was attending school, there were times he’d asked Hongdan for a wake-up call. Of course, if he asked ten times, Hongdan would only call once or twice when he was in a good mood.
But ever since he started staying at this house, he woke up earlier than Hongdan more often. Especially recently, to prepare breakfast for Hongdan who frequently skipped meals during busy work weeks, he unconditionally woke up about an hour earlier. At least it was fortunate that he wasn’t a heavy sleeper, so he didn’t miss his alarm.
Of course, it wasn’t easy being exhausted, but Hongdan was someone who responded to diligent love rather than a single intense confession, so there was no helping it. Just eleven years ago, he’d become the person closest to Hongdan through the same method. Seonha trusted that memory.
But this morning, he couldn’t show that persistent affection.
When he opened his eyes to the modest presence tickling his ear, Hongdan had already finished preparing for work.
‘Hongdan…?’
‘…’
‘Why did you wake up so early? Are you feeling sick…’
‘Mind your own business.’
‘Huh?’
Slam—!
The sound of the angry front door still seemed to echo through the house. The alarm Seonha had set went off exactly 5 minutes after that. For a while, he couldn’t even think to turn it off, just staring at the spot where Hongdan had left. After belatedly disabling the alarm, he stood there blankly for quite some time again, agonizing over whether or not to contact Hongdan. His fingers twitched all morning, but in the end, he couldn’t write a single text message.
“…What the hell.”
The atmosphere had definitely seemed fine.
Even when he’d let slip a bit of the desire he’d been suppressing under the excuse of a wish, Hongdan hadn’t gotten angry like expected. He’d started acting strange from the moment he rushed out of Seonha’s room as if being chased by something. Then it seemed like he was holding back tears all night. Seonha fell asleep listening to the sound of someone festering beyond the two shabby doors.
Should he have gone out to check then?
Tap tap.
Seonha’s thumbnail kept striking his front teeth. He’d thought he’d broken the habit completely, but it was an old tic that unfailingly appeared whenever he was anxious. The noise that had been synchronized with the clock’s second hand quickened its tempo as his thoughts spiraled. The house happened to be quiet, making the sound ring out even louder. Tap tap tap. Tap.
“Ah, fuck…”
Bzzzz— Bzzzz—
Eventually, the tip of Seonha’s tongue, having failed to control his strength, tasted the metallic tang of blood, and the only noise was replaced by a long vibration. Seonha answered the phone with his opposite hand while keeping his bleeding thumb in his mouth.
“Yeah, what.”
—Young Master.
The caller was none other than Director Do Jaehyuk. Since he wasn’t particularly a welcome caller, Seonha’s brow furrowed.
“Just get to the point.”
—President Han plans to return to Korea on the 15th of next month. I heard from Secretary Kim on their end today.
“She said she’d come at the end of the month. Why did it suddenly get moved up?”
Seonha’s voice rose slightly. Director Do also seemed to find the situation unpleasant, as an uncharacteristic silence followed.
—…It’s probably because of you, Young Master.
“Fuck, does she still see me as a nine-year-old kid?”
—You need to return before then. For Hongdan’s sake too.
“So now it’s ‘Hongdan’? Do you also think I won’t be able to bring him back, Director Do?”
—…
The silence grew longer. The fact that he couldn’t demand an answer made Seonha feel even more frustrated.
In truth, he knew it too. That the connection with Hongdan, which he’d been persistently maintaining, was starting to crumble again.
He’d been confident up until he first came to find Hongdan.
That resolve was gradually starting to look like pathetic arrogance. He just didn’t want to admit it.
In the end, Seonha’s lips also pressed tightly together. Only each other’s shallow breathing passed through the receiver.
Wasn’t there some way?
Meeting Hongdan again, he still seemed easy to handle at times, yet suddenly felt infinitely difficult at others. He could grasp him, yet strangely felt like he was slipping from his grip. Like sand, he kept flowing through his fingertips.
That’s why his heart grew more urgent. Whenever he saw Hongdan’s back, he’d think of that figure in the courtroom a year ago and his throat would burn for no reason. Time flowing helplessly onward destroyed Seonha’s rationality.
His lips sought out his thumb again and bit down.
A way… a way to make Choi Hongdan choose me again. A way to make him have no choice but to return to me.
“I’ll have to tie him down first, I guess.”
Things like diligent love can come after that.
—Young Master, what do you mean…
At the contextless words that popped out after the long silence, Director Do seemed quite flustered. Though it was a sentence missing both subject and object, it was thoroughly high-handed. Seonha spoke in a voice that had settled coldly.
“Director Do.”
—…Yes.
The corners of Seonha’s mouth tilted crookedly. A gleaming ray of light flashed through his eyes.
“Book an appointment with Dr. Yu for me. As soon as possible.”
—Young Master.
“Tell them I want to move up my rut cycle.”
—Young Master, that really cannot happen.
“If you want to turn your Young Master into a pheromone rapist, then keep acting that way.”
—Young Master…!
Click.
Seonha put down his phone without hesitation. The anxious hand trembling that had been repeating stopped. But his head was still dizzy. It was because of the faint guilt that had been present ever since he decided on this plan. Just as Hongdan had changed, he too was gradually becoming different.
Seonha slid his body down and burrowed into the blankets that still hadn’t been put away.
“I don’t want to go this far either, Hongdan.”
Even though he’d turned on the boiler just as Hongdan had taught him, there was a strange chill. In fact, it was always like this when he was left alone in this house.
Seonha squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture a familiar face. But perhaps because he’d only seen the back view this morning, no matter how many times he traced over it, it remained blurry.
“Can’t you just come to me?”
A childlike plea flowed from his curled-up body. Seonha muttered painfully, almost like a groan.
“Please…”
Just one more time, just one more time, Hongdan.
“I’m sorry…”
Please love me again.
***
Director Baek Seyoung’s reaction didn’t deviate even a bit from expectations.
‘Reporter Choi, what the hell is this?’
‘No, fine. You can replace an interviewee. I’m not saying I don’t understand that. But then you should have told me at least three or four days in advance. You know we agreed to meet today at 3 o’clock, right?’
Even though it wasn’t a video call, Hongdan had to bow his head over and over while clutching his phone.
‘There’s no way a rookie who’s been here less than a year would pull something like this on their own… What, does someone higher up want to promote a new talent besides me?’
‘…You know I okayed this interview only after reading your columns, right? I liked that you didn’t try to forcibly package people. You didn’t just see people as interviewees, but seemed to genuinely know how to love them. I thought you were a reporter who best found people’s natural sides, and that’s why I wanted to meet you once too…’
‘I didn’t know you couldn’t control something this basic. Maybe I had too many expectations for a rookie.’
Even at the words respecting him as a columnist, the fact that he could only say “I’m sorry” was the most shameful. If there ever came a day to face Director Baek again, it seemed like Hongdan would want to be the one to refuse first. Because he had no confidence he could repay those expectations.
Every hour was a continuous cycle of self-loathing.
Even though Hongdan was sitting still, it felt like the ground was shaking. In one corner of his monitor was Director Cha Jaewon’s contact information that Team Leader Shim had written down and left. He desperately wanted to just ignore it and pretend he didn’t see it, but he held back. He didn’t want to make himself pathetic anymore.
With what must have been his umpteenth sigh, Hongdan entered those eleven digits into his phone one by one.
Ring ring—ring ring—
Click. The customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailable…
Ring ring—ring ring—
Click. The customer you are…
Ring, click.
The customer cannot answer the phone. Please try again later.
Wait, this bastard.
For a moment, Hongdan nearly threw his perfectly fine phone in anger.
Because the call waiting guidance that had been continuing several times changed to the guidance that only plays when the other party rejects the call first.
In other words, Cha Jaewon’s side had avoided Hongdan’s call first.
Embarrassing several people right now just to satisfy your own pride, fuck…
Suppressing the urge to go find him right away and hurl abuse, Hongdan pressed the message icon. Text was fortunate for hiding his feelings.
[Hello, Director Cha Jaewon. This is Choi Hongdan from the Noise People Team.
I called regarding the interview schedule but had difficulty connecting, so I’m leaving a text.
I would appreciate a reply as soon as you check this.
I hope you have a great day today.^^]
It was truly a message no different from AI. His unpleasant feelings couldn’t be found even if you washed your eyes and looked.
However, just before pressing the send button, Hongdan hesitated for a moment. There was something that bothered him.
In the end, after much deliberation, he deleted a few characters and rewrote them.
Tap tap.
[Hello, Director Cha Jaewon. This is Choi Hongdan from the Noise People Team.
I called regarding the interview schedule but had difficulty connecting, so I’m leaving a text.
I would appreciate a reply as soon as you check this.
Have a good day.]
In reality, only the last line had changed, and even that wasn’t a change in content, but pressing the send button was much easier than before. It didn’t matter if it looked petty. This way, it seemed like he’d be able to hold back his fists or curses when he saw Cha Jaewon later.
Anyway, the other party was a Young Master with no social experience. Unlike someone, he wouldn’t have the awareness to notice such subtle changes…
“…”
Hongdan’s face, which had seemed to regain some color for a moment, turned pale again in an instant.
Because he’d intruded at a truly unexpected moment.
Yeon Seonha.
Before he knew it, Hongdan had opened up enough space to unconsciously think of Seonha.
Nausea welled up.
“Urk!”
A retching he absolutely couldn’t swallow down.
“I just… just a moment.”
“Huh? What’s wrong, Hongdan! Hongdan!”
“Hurk…!”
