WOP Ch 2.7

“Did you hear from the editor-in-chief about selecting photos for the exhibition?”

The man, who had been staring at the photos for a while, suddenly asked.

“Yes.”

A short and concise answer followed.

“Get up properly without being sloppy.”

At the command-like suggestion, Ha Joyoon reluctantly sat up, leaning against the headboard. He felt embarrassed, thinking he had shown his annoyance, but he kept silent under the fierce gaze.

“I’d like to show these photos at the exhibition.”

It was something he had never seriously considered. After some thought, Ha Joyoon shook his head. He didn’t want to get deeply involved, perhaps just offering an opinion would do.

“There’s a lot to fix; it’s hard to present them right away.”

“Time is plentiful anyway. There’s no need for post-processing, so what do you need to fix? Let’s discuss it together at Monday’s meeting when we go to work. It’s a shame these photos, which could have been entered into a photojournalism contest, are outdated.”

“I don’t feel like that.”

After turning off the camera and putting it away, Joyoon replied blandly.

“These are all necessary photos. They need to be shown. From now on, consider entering photojournalism contests. Ha Joyoon, you know that the current refugee situation is the worst it’s ever been, right? Entering a contest is just an opportunity, not the goal.”

“…”

“While some enjoy the sunset on a yacht in the Mediterranean, others wear broken life vests and cross the sea in boats packed with dozens of people to survive. Haven’t you seen that countless times?”

Shin Kwonjoo continued with a sneer.

“If you’re not just going to hang them on the wall for your own viewing, take action. Your passive behavior is just self-satisfaction.”

Caught up in the relentless conversation, Ha Joyoon asked in a subdued voice after a while.

“Was what I did… necessary?”

“That’s an obvious question.”

To his self-deprecating words, Shin Kwonjoo responded with a frown as if to ask what he was talking about. Joyoon, looking at him, trembled slightly. Shin Kwonjoo stared at the camera bag for a moment before turning his gaze to Joyoon. Their faces were now only a few centimeters apart.

His black eyes, so dark they looked blue, blinked slowly. The sharp eyes drew a faint curve. Within the previously indifferent gaze, an indescribable emotion collided head-on. It was just that, but it was enough to change the impression of his usually cold demeanor.

After a brief pause, the man reached out. With a light sigh, his cool palm touched Joyoon’s head. All his actions seemed to come with the premise that they were not to his liking.

“These photos are worth betting your life on.”

“…”

“It was a necessary task. Good work.”

The touch that gently patted his head was unusually soft for him. Ha Joyoon, feeling somehow pained, quickly averted his gaze. Warmth rose to his wrinkled eyes.

When he finally looked up, the person who had spoken was busy checking emails and messages on his vibrating phone as if he had already forgotten what he said. It indicated that his words were merely professional remarks from a colleague at the same workplace. However, Joyoon’s eyes, now moist, began to search through past memories.

There was someone who roamed conflict zones and Greek borders with him for about half a year. Philip Bauer. He was a war correspondent from Weyton, dedicated to covering refugees for twenty years, and an old friend of Ed Makkelen, stationed in Shanghai.

[Philip, I can’t take any more photos. I need to return to my country. Do we really need to take these photos? This, this child…]

[Yoon, don’t underestimate the value of a single tear. A piece of easy sympathy is useless. The way we can help them is by capturing their reality in photos and letting the world know, so no one can say ‘I didn’t know.’ That’s why we take photos.]

This was what he said to me while I stood bewildered, looking at a child who had crossed the vast sea only to be washed up dead on the beach. Despite trembling at the wretchedness of the small corpse, Ha Joyoon captured the child’s back in his lens until the end. In moments captured dozens of times a second, he hoped to leave a trace in someone’s memory so that no one could say they didn’t know.

Thereafter, while photographing horrific and sad scenes, he tried not to cry. He endured emotional outbursts with a sense of duty to inform the world about the plight of those exposed to the most dangerous boundaries of life and death.

Thus, he wanted to capture the human heart and life that machines could not fully depict with his eyes and lens.

Emotions learned to be suppressed converged further within. The last emotional explosion and complete exhaustion in his memory was when he reunited with Kang Taejung and was notified of their breakup. After that, he thought he would never show emotion outwardly again.

So, Ha Joyoon didn’t even realize he was crying now.

“The head office will have to select photographers and photos through the archive for the exhibition. I’ll contact each branch, but to Boyle, I’ll speak separately…”

Shin Kwonjoo, satisfiedly stroking his chin, couldn’t continue when he saw the scene before him. His face, usually indifferent, was now filled with bewilderment. “Mr. Ha Joyoon.” He called his partner with a voice of disbelief.

“…Why are you crying in this context?”

Though his tone was one of exasperation, he didn’t leave. The indifferent sighs were now familiar. Neither coming closer nor moving away, the distance was neither cold nor warm. Yet, for him, whose heart had been consumed by fiery emotions and turned to ashes, this was the temperature of the relationship he needed most. A relationship where they used each other, but where he was the one using it more cowardly.

“No… it’s nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?”

“I know it’s pathetic.”

“…Good that you know.”

Ha Joyoon looked at the man sitting beside him with wet eyes, motionless. The sensation clashing with his whole body was unfamiliar.

He felt like everyone was pointing fingers at him, saying he was wrong. He felt criticized for selfishly pursuing his ideals, leaving his lover lonely, so he should naturally accept all these consequences. Even his family, while relieved he returned alive, wished he wouldn’t go back to conflict zones with a camera again. It felt like his hard-won dreams and beliefs were being entirely negated.

Caught in negative thoughts, he thought the same. He was selfish, foolish, had made wrong choices, so he had no right to be angry or sad. Accepting all these consequences seemed natural.

However, amidst the ongoing self-flagellation, part of him might have wanted to hear that he did his job, that he did his best to reveal someone’s tragic and unjust death, that what he did was valuable for someone. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to tell him he wasn’t wrong. He never spoke of it, fearing it would sound like vile selfishness and greed, but that was the truth.

Overwhelmed by the relentless waves of emotion, tears flowed again.

“Mr. Ha Joyoon, you’re really exhausting.”

After watching him for a while, Shin Kwonjoo clicked his tongue coldly.

“…This is the last time. I won’t cry anymore.”

“Ha, really.”

Even with a voice choked by emotion, trying to convey a determined will only brought back sighs and sneers. Tap. The sound of the phone being thrown carelessly onto the console echoed.

“Get a grip. I hate this. Why can’t you control your emotions? Is it because of that friend you broke up with again?”

“…I’m sorry.”

With his forehead deeply furrowed, Shin Kwonjoo approached and covered Ha Joyoon’s eyes with his hand. Soon, a low, deep voice followed.

“…Calm down already. It’s nothing once it passes.”

Despite the sighs that showed his exasperation, ironically, the large, warm hand covering his eyes couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Holding onto the firm arm of the man, Ha Joyoon quietly let out the storm of emotions he had forcibly hidden for so long. Shin Kwonjoo, silently watching the endless tears flowing beneath his hand, murmured in a low voice.

“Don’t let your emotions spill out like this.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t talk back.”

Contrary to his chuckling laugh, the warm palm exerted more pressure, as if to take away all the emotions he was shedding.

Endearment.

He doesn’t love this person, but he finds him endearing.

He found this cold comfort covering his eyes endearing, and the small consideration of staying beside him while angry was also endearing.

Did you feel the same?

While loving me, missing me, did you ever find the person by your side endearing, even for a moment? Did you learn to lean on that person little by little? Did you find comfort in them? Did you seek from them what I couldn’t give you, feeling fulfillment? Was it like that…

After being hit by the sad waves of reality where one can feel another emotion even while loving someone, Ha Joyoon could finally fully understand Kang Taejung’s feelings when he chose someone else.

He realized that even if emotions don’t completely disappear, even if love still remains, one can feel another person endearing at least momentarily. And he understood how lonely Kang Taejung must have been, how he opened his heart.

Like Ha Joyoon now, his lover must have found solace for the wounds and loneliness he felt from him through someone new. And at some point, naturally fell in love with that person.

After a long journey, Ha Joyoon could finally acknowledge that Kang Taejung had truly sorted out his feelings for him, that he had embraced someone else in his heart. He also understood how hard and lonely it must have been for him.

This was a belated acknowledgment and understanding of the breakup.

The sorrow that blossomed through countless pains and agonies finally shone brilliantly with the maturity of understanding. It was a farewell, a breakup with the past that he had avoided, one that he faced for the first time without running away from the summer where he had preserved his emotions.

The mystical music and dim lighting adorned the night transitioning into Saturday with a glamorous touch. Amidst the noisy, bustling space, Park Seongjae, standing in one corner of the bar, had a face that had been frozen stiff for a while, showing no signs of relaxing.

“…”

He loathed drunkards, one of the types he despised most. Due to the nature of his workplace, he didn’t want to deal with intoxicated individuals, and cases that ended well were rare.

However, now Seongjae had to seriously consider how to handle the friend lying before him. When they entered the club, Youngwoo’s pale and droopy appearance suggested something was wrong, and giving him drinks as ordered led to this outcome.

“Huh.”

Watching the back that rose and fell at regular intervals, Park Seongjae soon began to shake Seo Youngwoo.

“Hey, hey. Seo Youngwoo. Youngwoo! Won’t you get up!”

Even with the loud call, the body lying down didn’t move at all. He was completely drunk. Park Seongjae pressed his deeply furrowed forehead. No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t come up with a clear solution. If it were just an ordinary bar, he’d contact family, but given the place, it was awkward to call someone.

“Damn, this guy really…”

The curse uttered in a low voice lacked any real force. Suddenly, memories of the past overlapped.

‘What should I do, Seongjae, I… I shouldn’t have done that to him.’

The sight of him crying as if the world had ended, unable to let go of his foolish selfishness.

Why go so far? How do you plan to come back after going so far?

Patting his friend’s face, which had become unrecognizably haggard, Park Seongjae sighed deeply, checked the time, and picked up Seo Youngwoo’s phone from beside the glass. Since there was no lock pattern, he easily navigated to the desired screen. His eyes scanning through the contacts stopped at one name.

Kang Taejung.

His gaze was not kind when looking at that name. No matter how much he tried to think positively, it was difficult to feel goodwill towards someone who seemed to have changed his cheerful friend. After much hesitation, Park Seongjae finally touched Taejung’s name. Soon, an old pop song flowed as a ringtone through the speaker.

— Youngwoo.

Before even one verse ended, the call connected. Thinking that answering the call quickly was commendable, Park Seongjae opened with a gruff tone.

“It’s me, Park Seongjae.”

— …….

They hadn’t met on good terms before, so there was mutual discomfort between them. After an awkward silence, Park Seongjae cleared his throat and stated the reason for the call.

“Youngwoo’s very drunk. He needs to go home, but he’s not in the state to do so, so I called.”

— …Where are you?

Taejung asked in a blunt voice. The sounds of music and people talking mixed chaotically in the background.

“It’s a club. I’d take him home, but as you know, I can’t leave during peak weekend times.”

— Did Youngwoo drink a lot?

The following question was laced with unmistakable concern. Park Seongjae laughed with a sigh, lowering his eyes. He’s gotten better, at least. Remembering how indifferent Kang Taejung used to be to his friend, Park Seongjae replied with a bitter tone.

“Yes. He’s almost unconscious.”

— …Where is this club?

“It’s where I work. I’ll send you the location by text.”

— Thank you. I’ll head out now; I’ll call when I arrive. Please look after Youngwoo until then.

The conversation ended after a couple of exchanges, and the call was terminated. Park Seongjae looked at the darkened screen for a moment before tucking the phone back into Seo Youngwoo’s upper pocket. The smell of alcohol was terrible, seeping out with his heavy breathing.

Boom— Boom, Boom.

As time passed, the volume of the beat and music rose to announce the vibrant night. Amid the lively atmosphere, the sight of his friend lying alone seemed even more lonely and pitiful today. Park Seongjae, resting his chin in his hand, quietly looked down at Seo Youngwoo, who had fallen asleep in front of him. His gaze, filled with sympathy, flowed gently past the present into a certain time in the past. The image of his friend lying down in a similar fashion slowly cast like a shadow.

‘Stop it already.’

‘…’

‘What’s so great about sticking around someone who doesn’t even pay you any attention?’

‘Even so, I like him. I’m going crazy because I like him. I can’t control my feelings. Before I know it, I’m hovering around him, contacting him…’

‘He’s just looking for his ex. You know you’ll be discarded when she comes back, right? Snap out of it. You’ll only get used if you stay around someone who’s already taken. There are people who like you, so why are you like this?’

“But, Seongjae… at least he acknowledges me now more than before… He knows I exist. The person who used to ignore my calls, now sometimes replies, even initiates contact. It’s driving me crazy how good that feels…”

“It’s a disease. You’re sick too.”

The sobbing, mixed with tears, extinguished even the will to persuade further. He hated seeing his friend’s foolish devotion to someone who hadn’t acknowledged him for years.

Even when they were twenty, singing about first love with an excited face, sharing his concerns, he thought it would just pass. How many years had it been since he confessed without knowing the other had a partner, hit a wall, yet continued to hide his feelings and lingered around? It was a truly obstinate, stubborn emotion.

“Stupid bastard… here, put this on.”

Throwing the ointment at him with a gruff curse, the round eyes curved into crescents. A good-natured smile spread across his lips. “Thanks,” he murmured softly, clumsily applying the ointment to his bruised face.

“So just ignore him. Why take the beating for picking fights?”

“What beating? He kept pestering me even after I said no.”

“You’ll look like hell tomorrow.”

“It’s not that bad, but it’s my face. I’m thinking about taking leave.”

“Damn, what’s he trying to do by messing up someone’s face who has to work?”

The guy had been hitting on Seo Youngwoo for quite a while. Despite relentless rejections, he kept pursuing, which made Seongjae think he had some guts, but in the end, he was just a piece of trash who resorted to violence when his pride was hurt…

Even against one-sided violence, Seo Youngwoo’s stubbornness in fighting back was enough to leave Park Seongjae speechless.

“Don’t you know this place is full of people looking for one-night stands? If you sit here alone, drinking for days, of course, you’ll attract those types. Why don’t you get that? Don’t come here anymore.”

“Man, where else can I go if not here? I’ve got no one to talk to.”

“Ugh— you’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah, I admit I’m an idiot.”

His swollen cheek quickly became shiny with ointment, making his face look even sillier. Yet, his constant smiling made Seongjae feel even more depressed, unable to continue speaking. It was around then that the phone rang.

“What are you doing, not answering?”

Seongjae nudged Seo Youngwoo, who was just staring at the loudly ringing phone with a grumpy tone. The mouth that had been chattering away despite the bruised face had now gone still, pressed into a straight line. Seongjae’s gaze also moved to the phone screen, and his eyes narrowed at the name “Kang Taejung” displayed on it.

“It’s that bastard.”

“It’s the first time.”

“Huh?”

“The first time… he’s called me first. Seongjae.”

Holding the vibrating phone in his palm, Seo Youngwoo couldn’t continue speaking for a while. Only when the call was about to end did he hurriedly answer, focusing all his attention on the voice beyond the device, not wanting to miss a single word.

“Yes? Yes, yes.”

However, as time passed, his expression of excitement turned to one of confusion. The call with its subtle atmosphere continued for a few more minutes.

“It seems like he drank a lot.”

During the call, Seo Youngwoo quickly wrote something down on a borrowed notepad, then hung up and hurriedly gathered his clothes.

“Where are you going? Did he tell you to come pick him up?”

“I wish it were that simple.” Seo Youngwoo replied with a bitter smile to the angry question. Seongjae might have wanted to hold him back because his injured face looked particularly painful that day.

“It’s not him. It seems like it’s the bar owner. He called because I was in the recent call list. He must be too drunk to talk. I should go check on him. Thanks for today, Seongjae.”

“Thanks for what? Why are you so eager to serve that guy?”

“…But I’m glad I can be there for him at times like this. I’ll contact you tomorrow.”

Waving his hand widely, Seo Youngwoo left the club quickly, and that was the last time Seongjae saw him genuinely happy.

Tap. Tap.

Park Seongjae tapped his glass, his gaze so dark that not a single ray of light seemed to pass through. He recalled another scene from the past, fast-forwarded in his memory.

“Seongjae, what should I do?”

A few days later, Seo Youngwoo came to him with wet eyes, just like now, spilling out his emotions without any filter due to being completely drunk. When asked what was wrong, he cried so much that his entire small face was soaked, revealing a bitter truth.

“I lied to him.”

“What do you mean, lied? Explain properly.”

“The other day…”

Then came the shocking story. For that moment, even Seongjae couldn’t rely on the facade of being an old friend. Ironically, he couldn’t criticize either. His friend, trembling while confessing the truth, looked so fragile that Seongjae felt that if he pointed fingers, it would be beyond repair.

Out of loyalty, Park Seongjae chose to turn away from the truth with Seo Youngwoo. It was a path neither could reverse nor be forgiven for.

And a few months later, the persistent efforts of his friend bore fruit. After Taejung accepted his confession, the incident from that night was never brought up between them again.

Remembering how Seo Youngwoo would become defensive if that night was mentioned, Park Seongjae lit a cigarette. His heart felt stuffy. He couldn’t judge which choice was right.

A relationship gone wrong from the start. A relationship with no trust to be found. A relationship that began with thorough deceit. The bad end of that distorted relationship was clear even to an outsider like him. However, no matter how sincere the advice from those around him, if he himself couldn’t set a standard, it was all in vain. The extent to which an outsider could intervene was extremely limited.

All Park Seongjae could do was watch Seo Youngwoo slowly fall apart. The only thing he could offer was cheap friendship, promising to stay and play the role of a friend if he really fell.

“Hello.”

Startled by the low, soft voice nearby, Park Seongjae stood up. The man bowing in greeting was a face he knew well. He seemed to have rushed over, dressed casually with a black cap pulled down low. His complexion looked worse and more gloomy than Seongjae remembered, making him question if this was really the person he knew.

“Sorry for the late hour…”

“No, thank you for calling.”

Kang Taejung shook his head and looked down at the person lying there. Seo Youngwoo was so drunk that even his breath reeked of alcohol. He sighed lightly and shook Seo Youngwoo’s shoulder.

“Youngwoo, Youngwoo— snap out of it.”

“Mmm…”

“Youngwoo, you need to get up.”

The body, saturated with alcohol, swayed weakly even with gentle gestures. Seeing that Seo Youngwoo showed no signs of waking up, Taejung let out a deep sigh. Park Seongjae carefully observed both Kang Taejung and his friend, noting the undeniable fatigue in Taejung’s breath.

“How much did he drink?”

“He drank a whole bottle of liquor. I tried to stop him, but he was relentless… I’m sorry.”

“I see.”

After a moment of hesitation, Taejung gathered his belongings and helped Seo Youngwoo to his feet. Due to the height difference, Seo Youngwoo leaned heavily on him.

“I’ll be going now. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Oh, no.”

At the slight bow of greeting, Park Seongjae, momentarily dazed, was startled and bowed his head in return.

“Please take good care of Youngwoo. Even if he acts stubborn, his heart isn’t.”

“Yes… I know.”

“Youngwoo really likes Kang Taejung.”

“…”

The response to his unintended words was just silence, with no need to worry about what to do. Kang Taejung, who had been looking at the face of the person he was supporting, nodded with a subtle expression under his cap. It seemed like a smile for a moment, but the fleeting expression was hard to define. However, within that fleeting glance, his black pupils reflected nothing and everything. Though it was just a simple nod without words, the weight of that small gesture was beyond what Seongjae could discuss lightly. He also bowed deeply in return as a sign of greeting.

Amidst the swing rhythm that seemed to sweep away all worries, the two figures, weighed down by the burdens of life, staggered away. Their steps were so precarious that Park Seongjae couldn’t take his eyes off them until they completely disappeared.

He brushed his eyes painfully, recalling Kang Taejung’s expression from a moment ago.

“Seongjae, what should I do? I lied to him.”

“What are you talking about after showing up after days? What lie?”

“I slept with him.”

“What? Was it because you were drunk?”

“On the way back, he kept falling, so I tried to change his clothes. While undressing him, he thought I was someone else and kissed me… and somehow, it happened.”

“What, what does that mean… did he say he’d take responsibility? He didn’t do a hit-and-run, did he? Isn’t it a good thing? At least you got intimate, and the heart can follow… but what do you mean by lie?”

To this day, he still didn’t understand why the scratches on Seo Youngwoo’s face were so vivid then. Why his swollen cheek was particularly…

“When he woke up in the morning and saw my condition… he thinks he forced himself on me.”

“What? That makes sense? What did you say to him?”

“He kept apologizing… I couldn’t firmly say no. I just said it was okay. I told him it was fine because I love him. What should I do, Seongjae… I can’t tell him. After that, he keeps worrying about me, calling first, and I like it so much I can’t find the right time to tell him.”

“Man, is that even a thing to say…”

The face of his friend, crying profusely while confessing deeply hidden truths, remained vivid in his memory even years later, as if it were yesterday.

“Is this really the right thing to do? Ha… I don’t know.”

Stupid guy. Why did you do such a thing that you can’t even stand up for yourself or be proud of your feelings. Even if love is important, was it worth betraying our conscience and stealing? Was it a feeling worth falling to the bottom for?

As time passed, the sense of self-blame only grew. If he truly cherished Seo Youngwoo as a friend, he shouldn’t have ignored the truth. He should have guided him to the right path. However, the regrets for missing the timing had long passed their expiration date, lying around like discarded pieces of trash in a corner of his heart.

He remembers the radiant face of the boy who first showed him photos. Taejung remembers that brilliant moment even after more than ten years.

It wasn’t that kind of emotion from the start. The long-time friend with a white, soft, mochi-like face and foreign-looking features caught his eye. It was curiosity and pity for the friend who lacked social skills, only watching him, following him, and showing interest in him alone—nothing more, nothing less.

As afternoon came, the boy’s mother often looked for Kang Taejung. She would share her troubles about how her son, who had just entered middle school, was too dull with expressing emotions and showed no interest in people. But Taejung couldn’t agree with her words because the boy he knew was very different from the one she described. The boy always showed interest and curiosity in him, asking about his expressions, actions, and feelings.

The boy’s blind interest was sometimes annoying, but Taejung was also intoxicated by a sense of superiority, thinking that he was special and different in the boy’s eyes. So, while giving hollow consolations, he actually thought she didn’t know her son well.

‘Look at this.’

‘What is it?’

‘I took it.’

It was a summer day when sweat dripped just from breathing. A refreshing face, seemingly untouched by the heat, appeared between the door. He wondered why he came first, and then the boy shyly held out his arm with a photo of blooming trumpet flowers. At the picture with just a trumpet flower, Kang Taejung frowned and grumbled mischievously.

‘What’s with a guy taking flower pictures?’

‘Not good?’

‘I don’t know.’

Despite the sarcasm, the boy didn’t give up. After chewing on his still chubby cheeks for a moment, he rummaged in his pocket and extended his arm again. “Taejung.” His young voice called out.

‘There’s more.’

‘What?’

‘This.’

The next photo he showed was full of buildings and people. Kang Taejung’s expression twisted even more. He couldn’t understand what meaning these flowers, buildings, and people held for the boy.

‘How is it?’

‘What do you mean… how?’

‘Want to see more?’

However, looking at those eyes sparkling with expectation, Taejung felt that if he spoke honestly, the mochi might never show him photos again. He wasn’t interested in photography, but he didn’t want to be excluded from what the boy shared either. His young, naive mind didn’t realize this was an expression of possessiveness. Thus, the boy’s interest and passion for photography grew over time.

He can’t remember what the trigger was. He just didn’t like seeing the boy looking at his father’s old camera with longing. He also didn’t like seeing him secretly use it when no one else was. He thought that if the boy loved photography so much, he should enjoy it to the fullest.

However, for a middle school student like him, the price of a camera was not trivial. Thinking it was like buying an expensive game pack, Kang Taejung boldly entered the store but was shocked by the price on the display and ran out. That night, he tossed and turned sleeplessly, thinking of ways to buy the camera. He put his plan into action a month later.

Even for a friend, deciding to sell game items and accounts he had worked hard to cultivate was not easy. Yet, it was the quickest way to earn the most money considering the various part-time jobs a middle schooler could do. When he handed over the account he had nurtured for over a year, hiding it from his parents, even Kang Taejung, who was considered mature and serious for his age, cried like a child.

Although he knew nothing about cameras, he wanted to buy the best one within his budget, so he spent time searching and asking around. Comparing different models with people he knew and didn’t know, finding the best deal for the same model was quite enjoyable and satisfying. Another month passed until he could give his friend, who was somehow always cautious around him despite their long friendship, a cool camera.

‘What’s this?’

‘Can’t you see? It’s a camera.’

He said it with a cool tone, wiping his nose, and the boy looked alternately at the camera and Kang Taejung with a dazed expression. “A camera?” His voice was as stunned as his expression.

“Who doesn’t know what a camera is? Why are you giving it to me?”

“I got it, but I don’t really need it.”

“You got it? It’s brand new, though?”

“I did some part-time work, and they gave me this instead of money. You take a lot of photos, so you use it.”

“Wow.”

In reality, the last bit was a perfect crime known to no one; he had secretly put in his lunch money because he was a bit short. It was an unbelievable lie to anyone who heard it, but the recipient was Ha Joyoon. He was so innocent and naive, believing everything he saw and heard, except for things related to his interests.

“Wow!”

Seeing him clap and jump with joy, Kang Taejung felt no regret about his choice to buy the camera after all the effort. Just seeing his eyes sparkle as if he had received the most precious thing in the world, touching the camera and its lens, was enough.

After that, the boy carried the camera Taejung bought him for a long time. He treasured it like a precious gem, taking care of it and being delighted by it. This made him so happy that at some point, Taejung wanted to keep making him smile like that.

He didn’t anticipate that the satisfaction he felt from Ha Joyoon’s smile would grow uncontrollably with time and age. If he had known earlier, would things have been different? Would he not have started something with him? Would he not have tried to bind him to keep his love? Even after struggling and falling, would he have left no lingering attachment?

He opened his eyes.

The pastel-toned, nostalgic scene that had been before him a moment ago had vanished somewhere, replaced by the curtains of a cold north wind filling the room. Taejung blinked his eyes, heavy as lead. As the darkness became familiar, the interior slowly began to imprint on his visual cells. He had the illusion that the darkened ceiling was gathering like clumps of dirt.

Turning his eyes due to the weight on one arm, he saw the shadowed face of someone completely asleep. It was a completely different look from the boy who smiled brightly at him in dreams.

It was Seo Youngwoo.

“…”

Taejung took a deep breath, trying to understand the source of this sense of alienation. The feeling of the cold air coming in reminded him that this was his current reality.

After staring at the sleeping Seo Youngwoo for a while, Kang Taejung bent his arm to pull the body closer to him. The alcohol-soaked body easily came close to his chest. He knew Seo Youngwoo had been struggling a lot lately, but he didn’t know where to start resolving the issues.

Even in his sleep, Seo Youngwoo had a pained expression, furrowing his brows. Was he having a bad dream? A tear from the corner of his eye traced a semicircle down his cheek. Wiping the wet corner of Seo Youngwoo’s eye with one hand, Kang Taejung also recalled someone else’s tears buried in his memory. An unbearable sense of guilt pressed on his chest. The chilling feeling still hadn’t dissipated and was firmly lodged somewhere in his heart.