FRWD Ch 3

Yehan arrived in front of the club and looked around. Perhaps because it was a weeknight, there were empty parking spaces, so he was about to park right in front of the building when he saw Haseong in the alleyway illuminated by his headlights. Just like last time, Haseong had his large bass gig bag on his back and was smoking a cigarette, even though he had said he didn’t smoke when he was flustered.

“I guess you weren’t flustered today.”

Watching him, Yehan muttered to himself without realizing it. Haseong’s vague and foolish excuse had been quite funny at the time, but seeing him smoking like a chimney all by himself was amusing in its own way.

Yehan got out of the car, imagining the expression Haseong would make when he saw him. Despite his blunt impression, his surprised expressions were varied and entertaining to watch. He would probably make that kind of face again when he saw him this time. With pleasant anticipation, Yehan’s steps gradually quickened.

💜

Every time the man strode closer, Haseong had the illusion that moonlight was following him over his broad shoulders. Like someone on a lit runway, every place Yehan stepped was bright.

That couldn’t be…. Haseong stared, mesmerized, at the man walking into the alley, forgetting even that his cigarette was burning down to black. He couldn’t shake the silly thought that one had to shine that brightly in a place without even streetlights, let alone stage lighting, to be an actor.

Then, finally, while he stood there lost in thought, he lightly burned his finger on the cigarette ember that had climbed up to the end of the filter.

“Ow.”

Letting out a short groan, Haseong quickly stubbed out the cigarette and rubbed his finger on his clothes. It wasn’t a serious burn, of course, only a slight stinging pain remained. Haseong dusted the ash off his finger and bowed his head in greeting.

“Hello.”

Should he say the timing was good or bad? He was fiddling with his stinging finger when Yehan suddenly grabbed his hand.

Haseong involuntarily looked up, following his raised hand. The face that had been wearing a relaxed and charming smile just a moment ago was now coldly stiff, intently focused on his finger.

“Are you okay? What were you so lost in thought about?”

He couldn’t bring himself to reply, “Your face.” What was he, an idiot, to advertise it to the whole neighborhood? Haseong quickly pulled his hand away and changed the subject.

“I was just spacing out for a moment…. I’m fine, so don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry? I’m a fan.”

Those casually dropped words tickled the tip of his finger where the ember had touched.

Hearing the word “fan” for the first time from a complete stranger with whom he had no connection felt like magic. It was embarrassing yet gratifying, and while the inexplicable pressure made him anxious, his heart softened, and his guard came down.

Rubbing the back of his neck, which suddenly felt hotter, Haseong spoke.

“Are you here to see the owner? He’s inside, but isn’t it a little late…?”

He hadn’t checked the exact time, but it had already been 10:30 when he arrived at the live club, so it must be almost 11:00 now. Even if it was a drinking appointment, it was late to meet someone.

Fortunately, Yehan didn’t express any particular questions despite the awkward timing and topic change, and answered his question.

“Yes. I often have schedules during the day, and Hyeongseok is usually asleep. Night is convenient for both of us.”

“Ah, I suppose you are always busy. Especially you, being an actor.”

“Like I said last time, I’m not very busy these days. I’m not filming anything. I’m practically unemployed.”

Yehan shrugged his shoulders playfully. At that point, Haseong glanced at the department store’s exterior wall, visible through a narrow gap behind Yehan. He was there, on the giant screen, blending in with the sparkling city nightscape.

That kind of person, unemployed? Anyone who heard that would laugh. Even if he had said it very seriously, everyone would have known it was a joke. Haseong also knew how absurd it was for Go Yehan to be unemployed in this country.

However, because the word unemployed stung, he couldn’t laugh comfortably and only managed to awkwardly pull up the corners of his mouth.

“You’re… joking, right?”

“I’m not joking. If an actor isn’t filming, they’re unemployed. Since I’m unemployed, I’ll come here more often.”

“To the live club?”

Even though a live club wasn’t like a regular club where people danced, drank, and mingled noisily, it wasn’t a place a celebrity would frequent.

There was a lot of foot traffic, it was noisy, and since mostly people in the indie scene went there, the atmosphere was a bit… different. It certainly wasn’t calm. That’s what he meant, at least when looking at outward appearances, regardless of people’s character.

There were plenty of people with tattoos on exposed parts of their bodies, their hair colors were vibrant, and flashy piercings and outfits were so common they didn’t attract attention. There were also quite a few bands that dressed normally and played mostly lyrical songs, but the fact that there were many people with distinctive appearances compared to other places was undeniable.

‘Just look at me and the number of piercings I have….’

Haseong unconsciously fiddled with his ear. It all started when he pierced his earlobe to wear the piercing Woochan had given him as a gift.

Whether Woochan thought he had done it because he liked the piercing or not, he started bringing Haseong more piercings one by one, and each time, Haseong kept piercing more holes, feeling bad about leaving the gifts unused.

And so, before he knew it, he had 5 piercings. Even if there was a reason for it, considering that men generally don’t get piercings, it was a distinctive appearance.

Of course, there are many clubs run by famous singers and rappers, and fellow singers and celebrities often frequent them, but Bleach, run by Hyeongseok, didn’t have that kind of atmosphere. He hadn’t even known Hyeongseok was cousins with that Go Yehan until he met Yehan.

But Go Yehan, of all people, saying he would frequently visit here during his break was baffling to Haseong. “Why?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity. Yehan smiled bashfully, as if a little embarrassed.

“I’ve always liked watching performances… but now Haseong is here too.”

Wow.

That single sentence blew away all the distracting thoughts filling his head. His mind, filled with joy, sputtered out incoherent exclamations.

He really is my fan. That Go Yehan, my fan. Was I really that good that day? Good enough to become a complete fan after seeing me once and want to keep watching my performances?

…But what good is it if Go Yehan comes here often? There’s no guarantee that our band will be able to perform here in the future.

After the explosion of admiration, realistic pessimism set in. His fingertips, which had been trembling with excitement, quickly stopped.

The day he first met Yehan, the opportunity to barely get on stage at this live club was entirely thanks to Hyeongseok’s favor. And even that was because he was lenient towards newcomers. If they were to coldly judge based solely on skill, the reality was that Haseong’s band wouldn’t even pass auditions at other clubs.

The reality he realized after tasting a moment of sweetness was even more bitter. Haseong parted his cold lips. It was something he never wanted to say in front of a fan… but he couldn’t bring himself to make that precious fan come all this way for nothing.

“…Our band doesn’t perform very often, so I don’t know if I’ll be here on the days you come….”

“Even if it’s not for a performance. We could meet by chance like today, right?”

“That’s… true, but.”

How many such coincidences could there be? The chances of running into each other by chance were close to zero unless Haseong intentionally stopped by, like today. Even though Bleach was on his way home from the practice room, he didn’t stop by every time. And contacting him separately to meet would be neither a coincidence nor anything else. They weren’t that close.

However, since he couldn’t ask the fan he had finally gained, ‘Honestly, what are the chances of us running into each other privately?’, Haseong trailed off. Yehan then lowered his eyes sadly.

“I’m really happy to run into you like this, but aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m happy to see you too, but, uh, coincidence is a bit difficult….”

“We met by chance today. We met by chance last time too. So there’s no reason why there can’t be a third time.”

“…….”

Haseong struggled to shake off those words that felt unnecessarily sweet and clinging. If Yehan weren’t a man, or at least if he weren’t an Alpha, Haseong might have seriously misunderstood it as a pick-up line.

Go Yehan is an Alpha. Alphas with Omegas, Betas with Betas, and even in rare cases where relationships form between those with and without secondary genders, it was always between opposite sexes. This was common knowledge.

Of course, that’s just the general case, and it would vary depending on sexual orientation and preference. However, Haseong was an extremely common heterosexual Beta male, and the probability of an Alpha male hitting on him knowing that fact was low.

So that’s just fanship, fanship. It’s just that his characteristically kind demeanor and gentle tone of voice combined to make it sound slightly ambiguous. Having brainwashed himself this way, Haseong fumbled for his handkerchief. A sudden sense of unease that he might record an even worse dark moment in history than last time if he continued to be with Yehan washed over him.

Overcome with the thought that he had to apologize and leave quickly, Haseong abruptly bowed at the waist, bending 90 degrees.

“I apologize.”

“…Why are you suddenly doing this?”

Yehan, sounding unusually flustered, tried to grab his shoulders and forcibly straighten him up. Haseong firmly resisted his touch and spread out the handkerchief he had already taken out in front of Yehan.

“As you can see, it’s like this. I apologize. It was my fault for washing it incorrectly….”

“…….”

“I’m truly sorry. I will take responsibility and reimburse you. Just give me a little time and I definitely will.”

He repeatedly bowed, explaining the situation. He didn’t have any money on hand right now, he couldn’t get an advance on his part-time job pay, and he’d been too busy with practice recently to have time for another job. He’d transfer the money as soon as he got paid early next month….

While he was at it, a few people passed by on the main street beyond the alley, whispering among themselves. Fortunately, because the streetlights were dim and Yehan was standing with his back to the alley, there wasn’t much commotion. They simply clicked their tongues and passed by, feeling sorry for the young man, misunderstanding what had happened.

Yehan, who had remained silent throughout the explanation, only spoke after the pedestrians had passed.

“Stop it. Anyone who sees this would think I’m a loan shark.”

“Sorry….”

“I said stop apologizing. Why are you acting like you’ve committed a deadly sin over something like this?”

He muttered in a rather exasperated tone, a cigarette now between his lips. The sound of the lighter striking, click, also reached Haseong’s ears. After deeply inhaling the smoke, Yehan leaned languidly against the wall and exhaled.

“It’s not even two hundred thousand, it’s twenty? Forget it. Do you know how old I am, Haseong?”

“Uh, no.”

He only knew that Yehan was older than him, but he didn’t know exactly how old he was. He only guessed that he was probably in his late twenties or early thirties. When Haseong shook his head from side to side, flustered, Yehan gave a smile that seemed somewhat drained.

“I’m eight years older than you. You’re twenty-two, right?”

“Yes.”

“Right. I’m thirty.”

Having revealed his age, Yehan took another long drag from the filter. The cigarette was halved after only two puffs. As if the half-remaining cigarette wasn’t a waste, he stubbed it out and whispered in a voice tinged with a hollow laugh.

“My conscience still works, so I can’t take that paltry sum of twenty from someone almost ten years younger than me just for ripping a handkerchief. I’ll just consider it a gift to you, Haseong.”

Fiddling with the torn handkerchief, Yehan placed it neatly on Haseong’s palm. Then he poked his bare hand through the hole in the handkerchief with his finger. “How do you wash something like this?” he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

Haseong flinched and then quietly pocketed the handkerchief in his fist.

“Thank you. But are you sure it’s okay to give me something you received as a gift…?”

“It’s fine. I don’t even remember who gave it to me.”

“…….”

“I don’t attach much meaning to gifts. Whether I gave them or someone else did.”

Yehan’s attitude was nonchalant, as if he were disposing of some unknown junk that had come out while cleaning an old storage room.

Haseong had a habit of clinging to gifts, regardless of who gave them.

The casino chip his father had tossed him after seeing him play with it because of its pretty colors, the fretless bass the older brother from church who taught him bass had given him, the note his stepsister had given him when they broke up, and even the piercing Woochan had given him as a casual birthday present.

Although his connections with all of them were now severed or precarious, he treasured them all. To Haseong, Yehan’s inability to even remember who had given him the handkerchief was a bit surprising. Of course, he understood, as Yehan was currently a top actor, so gifts must be pouring in like waves every other day.

‘How could he remember every single one of them?’

Still…. If he were the one who had given Yehan the gift, he would have been a little sad. Whoever gave it must have prepared it with Yehan in mind. It wasn’t a cheap gift either.

But then again, there are people in the world who wouldn’t think twice about spending two hundred thousand won on a single handkerchief. Like the person who gave the gift to Yehan, and like Yehan himself. He didn’t know the giver’s financial situation, but they must have been well-off to give such a gift. And as for Yehan…

‘He must be rich.’

That person is Go Yehan. A celebrity who earns more money from a single commercial than ordinary people could accumulate in a lifetime. It’s not a figure of speech; money would literally be piling up in his bank account.

For someone like that, two hundred thousand won could be ‘just’ a small amount. To him, the two hundred thousand won he earned would be ‘just’ a small amount, and the two hundred thousand won someone spent on a gift would also be ‘just’ a small amount. Thinking that way made him feel pathetic for struggling for the past two weeks to come up with ‘just’ two hundred thousand won.

He couldn’t even think about going to college because neither his grades nor his overall circumstances allowed for it, he didn’t have a proper job, nor did he have any qualifications that would help him get a job in the future.

On top of that, he was struggling, devoting everything to indie band activities that didn’t even bring in any money. And even that indie band had no popularity or skill, and the members were only growing further apart….

“Ha…”

Every time he revisited his reality, his ex-girlfriend’s words about him having no future felt more real.

He had felt depressed after messing up performances or when the occasional contact from his estranged mother turned into a lament about her life, but after being dumped, the frequency had increased considerably. Now, even without any particular event, his chest would tighten after getting lost in his thoughts.

As Haseong let out a deep sigh without realizing it, Yehan silently offered him a cigarette. He even lit it for him and asked,

“Compensation… um, even though I said you don’t have to pay me back, why are you sighing?”

“…I, I know what the word compensation means. You don’t have to rephrase it for me.”

“…Oh.”

A stifling silence hung in the air for a moment. He had shown a foolish side of himself since their first meeting, so he understood, but even he knew the meaning of the word compensation.

He had known it since he was very young, through experience. Thanks to the supermarket owner who constantly nagged at him, not his parents, every time his alcoholic father broke the supermarket window after a drunken rampage, saying, compensation, compensation.

You’ll need to earn a lot of money when you grow up to compensate for your father’s gambling debts and the damage he causes when he’s drunk – he wasn’t sure if those words, which had followed him since he was six, were a blessing or a curse. Fortunately, his parents divorced and he lost contact with his father, so he didn’t need to earn a lot of money.

Anyway, he appreciated Yehan’s consideration in trying to rephrase the word for him, but he didn’t want to be misunderstood as a fool who didn’t even know such basic vocabulary.

Yehan, whose smiling face had frozen for a moment, was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to use a different word instead of a Sino-Korean word because you’re still young, Haseong. Don’t misunderstand.”

“I’m not that young either…. I’ve even finished my military service.”

There had been a supermarket owner who chanted “compensation, compensation” in front of a kindergartener, but Yehan was trying to simplify words for him, a twenty-two-year-old, thinking he might find Sino-Korean words difficult? He had felt this since their last meeting, but Yehan treated him too much like a child.

Feeling slightly irritated, Haseong emphasized that he had completed his military service. But contrary to his intention, Yehan made a face as if he had seen an elementary school student doing an errand responsibly.

“Really? You finished very early. Don’t people usually enlist around your age, Haseong?”

“I couldn’t, I mean, I didn’t go to college…. I enlisted as soon as I turned twenty.”

In reality, it was closer to being forced to enlist because the mother who had been taking care of him had said, “You’re an adult now, so take care of yourself,” and left to remarry her fourth husband. His mother had given him some money for living expenses, but there was nothing he could do with one million won.

So, around the age of twenty, Haseong lived in a goshiwon, solving his food and lodging, until he entered the training center. He must have been the only man in Korea praying to be enlisted as soon as possible. The goshiwon in the middle of winter was that small, cold, and lonely.

However, since it felt awkward to reveal such personal details, Haseong made up an excuse about college.

“You went through a lot at a young age.”

Was it just his imagination that no matter what he said, the answer always came back to ‘young’? Haseong stared at Yehan with disgruntled eyes, but then surrendered to his appearance, as if God had meticulously created him and drunk the wine of joy for three days and nights.

How can a man’s face look like that? His face had the power to make him instantly forget doubts, distracting thoughts, and petty grievances. Well, would he intentionally treat him like a child? It must just be his imagination. Convincing himself, Haseong closed his mouth.

As they stayed silent, the conversation stopped at an awkward point. The atmosphere quickly became heavy as the two adult men just kept smoking. Finally, unable to bear the awkwardness, Haseong blurted out something.

“So, you must have gone around my age, then.”

“I’m exempt. I’m a secondary gender, you know.”

“…Aha.”

His desperate struggle to overcome the awkwardness ended in vain.

Because he was a Beta, Haseong wasn’t very interested in secondary genders. He naturally didn’t know the difference between recessive and dominant, and to be honest, he even got confused about distinguishing between Omegas and Alphas.

Pheromones were a separate issue since he never experienced them, and while it’s commonly said that Alphas are large and Omegas are small, there seemed to be a lot of individual variation. The fact that Woochan, a recessive Alpha, was about the same size as him said it all.

During middle school, Woochan had boasted that since he presented as an Alpha, he would grow much taller than him, but his growth had been completely opposite. Woochan was still taller than him, both then and now, but the difference he had talked about was probably only about 3cm at most.

Of course, Yehan was incomparably taller than him. Judging by how he had to crane his neck upwards every time he looked at him, Yehan must be at least 192cm tall. However, there are many Beta men who are tall due to exercise or genetics, and since Yehan didn’t add “I’m an Alpha” to the end of every sentence, he had completely forgotten that Yehan had a secondary gender.

Embarrassed, Haseong let out a foolish exclamation and kicked the toe of his shoe.

“Sorry.”

“Haseong, pay some attention to me. There’s no one in Korea who doesn’t know that Go Yehan is an Alpha.”

“It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just that I’m a Beta, so I don’t know much about that kind of thing….”

Excuses naturally tumbled out. He couldn’t upset someone who was kind enough to listen to his worries and even volunteer to be his first fan.

“I just learned that secondary genders are exempt. I have a friend who’s an Alpha, and he served as a public service worker.”

“Alphas and Omegas have heats, don’t they? Wouldn’t it be troublesome if they went into heat in the military?”

“Ah, h-heat, …yes.”

“Well, it’s not an unconditional exemption. My case is a bit severe, so I’m exempt. Usually, they serve as public service workers. Like your friend.”

“…….”

At the refreshingly straightforward answer, Haseong was at a loss for words. The blunt word choice, heat, which seemed like something that would be used for animals, was embarrassing enough, but Yehan’s answer just sounded like….

It sounded like he was saying that his heats were particularly intense, so he was exempt from military service. No, that was exactly what he meant.

What should he say? That it must be difficult having such intense heats? That he must go through a lot during his heats? Or how often does he go into heat to be exempt from military service… ah, that’s a bit much.

Haseong tried to choose a response that wouldn’t be rude, but a suitable expression wouldn’t come to mind. The heat rushing to his head seemed to have dulled his already slow brain even further. His face felt hot, like it was about to explode. Yehan was the one in heat, yet why was he the one feeling embarrassed?

As he lowered his head, heavy with the sudden rush of heat, Yehan fanned him with his hand, his expression still refreshingly bright.

“Are you hot? Your face is red.”

“Yes, well, a little…”

“Ah, are you embarrassed? I suppose it could be a bit unfamiliar for a Beta. Talking about heats and all.”

“……”

It wasn’t just unfamiliar; it was incredibly embarrassing, awkward, and all sorts of thoughts swirled in his mind.

Woochan was also an Alpha, but he didn’t talk about things like heats in front of others. Moreover, even during his rut, he tended to avoid mentioning such topics, saying that since he was a recessive Alpha, he was no different from a Beta if he took his suppressants.

Was it because he was a dominant Alpha that he was so uninhibited about such things? Haseong stared blankly at Yehan’s chest with a bewildered expression. Perhaps because of his broad shoulders, his chest was also broad, like someone who worked out.

Yehan, blocking Haseong’s view with his chest, smiled kindly as if understanding and tapped his finger around Haseong’s eyes and cheekbones. Then, looking closely at his finger that had touched his skin, he suddenly moved closer and inhaled. His eyebrows twitched slightly.

But only for a moment. Yehan soon returned to his characteristic bright smile and asked,

“The Alpha friend you know, is he recessive?”

“Yes. How did you know right away… Ah, are recessive Alphas public service workers and dominant ones exempt?”

“That’s usually how it goes. But more importantly than that, hmm, you seem very close with that friend.”

At the unexpected question, Haseong thought hard. If he had been asked this question last year, around the time he was discharged, he would have answered affirmatively without hesitation. But now, he couldn’t. He and the other band members, including Woochan, had already fallen out.

“…Not really.”

“Really? From what you’ve said, it sounds like you spend a lot of time together.”

“Well, we’re in the same band.”

“Ah, the one who promised to perform a song you composed and then completely ghosted you?”

Yehan’s face was full of a mischievous smile. He seemed very amused for some reason.

It was a worry he had been struggling with alone before confiding in him…. Haseong, hiding his bitter feelings, just nodded his head up and down. Yehan’s smile deepened.

“Interesting.”

It was the moment he bitterly regretted babbling about his worries in front of someone he had just met, captivated by his kind words.

“…It wasn’t interesting for me.”

“Ah, I wasn’t talking about that, I meant something else. I worded it in a way that could be misunderstood.”

Yehan quickly retracted his smile and apologized. There was something unsettling about it, but he couldn’t very well press him on what other interesting things there could be. When Haseong sullenly closed his mouth, Yehan asked in a dejected voice,

“It’s true…. You don’t believe me.”

“……”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“You are. Hmm, how can I make you believe me?”

Yehan exaggeratedly sighed and muttered as if talking to himself. He thought that it was a theatrical attitude, and that a thirty-year-old man was acting cute, but strangely, it wasn’t unpleasant to see. Perhaps because he was handsome.

Just as he was about to be captivated by the face in front of him once again, a pleasant, low-pitched, melodious voice tickled Haseong’s ears.

“Do you like alcohol?”

Despite his initial shock at the suggestion of drinking together, especially at this hour, Haseong emptied the beer bottle as if it were water. The drinking session wasn’t as awkward as he had worried. The power of alcohol was indeed great.

At some point, four empty beer bottles were rolling around on the table. Haseong had drunk them all by himself. Since entering the bar, Yehan had pulled his mask up to the bridge of his nose and diligently listened to Haseong’s story.

Even though his features were hidden, with only his eyes slightly visible and even those obscured by the brim of his cap, the surrounding gazes were intense. It was only natural, since his physique and naturally superior proportions couldn’t be hidden.

Every time he heard whispers questioning whether Yehan was a celebrity, Haseong’s heart sank. Yehan himself, however, simply buried himself deeper into the back of his chair and didn’t seem to mind the attention much.

“That table over there keeps looking at us too…”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it and keep talking. So, the bottom line is that you’ve never performed a song you composed?”

Haseong keenly felt that just having someone beside him to listen attentively and offer appropriate responses could alleviate the suffocating feeling in his chest, even if only slightly. Thanks to that, the tightness in his chest had long since dissipated.

“Yes. …Do you think my brothers are doing this because I’m objectively bad at composing?”

“Well. The song your band played the day I saw your performance, was that his original composition?”

The songs Haseong’s band played during performances were all composed by Woochan. Not only the band’s original songs, but even when covering existing songs, Woochan single-handedly rearranged them. When Haseong nodded, Yehan scoffed openly, as if he’d expected as much.

“He’s definitely not at a level to judge anyone. I grew up listening to music, so my ear is quite good.”

Yehan’s words about growing up listening to music reminded Haseong of who his mother was.

The most famous composer in Korea. A genius renowned for churning out hits regardless of genre. Rumor had it she earned the highest amount of royalties in Korea. And in addition to that immense talent, she was also famous for who her husband and son were.

Although she had never officially stated it herself, everyone knew. Once when she married Go Hyunwook, the biggest star of the time, again when Go Hyunwook committed suicide, and once more when an article about Go Yehan’s family relationships surfaced.

It had been the subject of national gossip at least three times due to such major incidents. So it was impossible not to know. Besides, even without those incidents, she was a figure anyone involved in the music industry couldn’t help but know. Feeling a sense of emotion, Haseong mentioned her name.

“Come to think of it, your mother is composer Yoo Seojin, right?”

“Haseong, you weren’t interested in me, but you know my mother? That’s hurtful.”

“She’s someone I’ve always admired, and I’ve seen her a lot in the news…”

“I guess when my father was all over the news, my mother was included in the coverage as well. It’s impossible not to know.”

“……”

Yehan’s tone was utterly calm. However, just the mention of the word “father” from his lips made Haseong’s body stiffen.

The fact that he hadn’t revealed who his father was when he debuted meant he probably didn’t want to make it public…. Haseong couldn’t even imagine how he must have felt when not only was that fact widely spread, but the entire nation also learned that one of his parents had died by suicide.

He felt a bitter taste in his mouth, regretting bringing it up. Haseong frowned as if he had swallowed something bitter and tightly shut his mouth.

“Why the long face? Ah, because of my father’s suicide?”

Yehan casually asked Haseong, who was like that. His tone was so casual that for a moment, Haseong thought he was asking about what he wanted for dinner. In a light voice befitting such a topic, Yehan continued,

“It’s okay. It’s all in the past. It was a bit annoying when it first came out, but.”

He dismissed his feelings at the time with the single word “annoying.” It was the moment all the worries that had been crowding Haseong’s mind became utterly meaningless.

But even if it was a long time ago, could he really talk about his father’s suicide so casually? And could he describe such an event as merely annoying?

Of course, his own parents were a bit of a mess, but they were still alive and well, so a perfect comparison wasn’t possible. Still, if Haseong were in the same situation, he didn’t think he’d be able to talk about his parents’ suicide so casually.

‘He’s a bit… unusual.’

Haseong rephrased the sudden sense of discomfort with the most positive words possible. It wasn’t that he hadn’t felt something strange whenever Yehan spoke bluntly like this or initiated overly familiar physical contact that went beyond casual.

But then again, they say there are many unusual people among celebrities. After all, to survive in that field, one would need a certain amount of boldness, talent, and various other qualities that differentiate them from ordinary people.

Whenever he felt something was strange, he dismissed it, thinking, “He’s a celebrity, after all.”

However…

“You can’t help but become numb to things as time passes, no matter what it is. It’s been almost twelve years since my father passed away.”

Just before Haseong’s mind was completely consumed by the unease he felt towards Yehan, Yehan tapped the table to get his attention and whispered soothingly. The unpleasant feeling that had been taking shape dissipated in an instant.

“Just so you don’t misunderstand, I had a good relationship with my father when I was young. Despite being busy, he taught me various things, like playing instruments and fishing. I learned how to control my pheromones from him, too.”

As he spoke, Yehan’s gaze drifted past Haseong, as if scanning the past.

Haseong, who had inadvertently met his eyes, silently lowered his gaze. Having briefly met his deep eyes that seemed to hint at longing, he felt embarrassed for thinking of him as a strange person, even momentarily.

“He sounds like a good father.”

“Haha, well. Let’s say he was my life mentor.”

After a light reply, Yehan tapped the empty beer bottle with his knuckles. It was a rhythmic beat. Just like Haseong tapped his foot on the floor to keep a steady beat while playing the bass, Yehan’s actions seemed similar.

He had said he learned to play instruments from his father, and if keeping time was ingrained in him to this extent, he must have learned quite seriously. The empty beer bottle made a clear, hollow sound each time his knuckles touched it.

Perhaps it was an unconscious action, but Yehan soon stopped, his hand falling away.

“You don’t know much about how secondary genders use pheromones, do you, Haseong?”

He then changed the subject with a sudden question. Was it because he didn’t want to talk about his parents anymore? Haseong didn’t know the flow of his thoughts, but this topic was more comfortable to talk about than personal matters.

“No.”

When he responded honestly, the corners of Yehan’s eyes crinkled pleasantly again.

“The most common use is for marking territory. They’ll cover their lover in it to intimidate others and prevent them from approaching. Like how dogs pee on lampposts.”

It was an easy-to-understand analogy, but why did he keep comparing secondary genders to animals? Haseong couldn’t help but wonder. He was an Alpha himself…. It was an embarrassing comparison, not unlike the blunt word “heat.” Haseong stared blankly at the table and fidgeted with his leg.

“Other than that, it’s used to seduce someone? Of course, it only works between people of the same secondary gender.”

“I… see.”

“See? You can’t smell anything, right? And you don’t feel anything either.”

“No. Wait, what did you just do?”

Cold fingers brushed against the nape of his neck and then fell away. Startled by the chill against his bare skin, Haseong shivered and lifted his face. Despite having most of his face covered, his perfectly shaped eyes curved beautifully.

“You are undoubtedly a Beta, Haseong. I guess that’s why you didn’t know you had pheromones on you.”

“What do you…”

“It means you need to be careful for a while, Haseong.”

What bad luck. He chuckled meaningfully and gently stroked the top of Haseong’s head. His large hand only moved away after thoroughly ruffling his hair. It was also Yehan’s hand that then neatly rearranged his messed-up hair.

Giving him a problem and then a solution. That’s what Haseong couldn’t help but think. Brushing aside his bangs that were poking his eyes, Yehan spoke.

“I came here to drink with you to cheer you up, so let’s stop talking about unpleasant things. By the way, have you contacted your ex-girlfriend since then?”

“No.”

Haseong gulped down his beer. He had said to stop talking about unpleasant things, yet he brought up the most painful topic.

After being unilaterally dumped without warning, he had repeatedly considered sending her a text, only to throw his phone down each time. She had asked him not to call, so he couldn’t, and as for texting, there was nothing he could say.

What did I do wrong? Why are you suddenly like this?

He desperately wanted to ask, but even without asking, he knew the answer. There was nothing wrong with his words or actions. His pathetic situation as a boyfriend, or in other words, his very existence, was the problem.

“I don’t think anything would change even if I contacted her, and I didn’t want to make things harder for her…”

He didn’t have the nerve to hold on. He needed something to show off to even muster the courage to try. He just hoped they could both forget quickly and move on. Muttering in a listless voice, Haseong reached for another beer.

It was after he had drained more than half the bottle and placed the lighter bottle back on the table that he felt a piercing chill from directly across from him. Glancing up, he saw Yehan, arms crossed and only his eyes visible, glancing at him.

“…What’s this.”

A low chuckle mixed with a sigh could be heard from beyond the black mask. Was he drunk from just a few bottles of beer? A faint chill permeated his usually gentle voice. Since he hadn’t finished his sentence, Haseong didn’t know what he was about to say.

Waiting for him to continue, Haseong stared at Yehan’s eyes. However, Yehan simply shrugged as if it had been a remark to himself.

“She should know how much you care for her, even after breaking up.”

“There’s no need for that after we’ve broken up…”

“You’re still caring for her after you’ve broken up.”

“……”

“I wish you would take better care of yourself, Haseong.”

Was the chill he felt earlier just a drunken illusion? A large hand, accompanied by a warm, smiling voice, stroked his hair. It felt like someone petting a fluffy puppy. Perhaps he had gotten used to the casual physical contact, as he wasn’t flustered by it anymore.

Leaving his head to be petted, Haseong glanced at his phone, which he hadn’t looked at while talking. Quite a few unread notifications had piled up on the lock screen. They were all from Woochan. It made sense. He had left a little after 10, saying he was going home, and it was past 1 am with no word from him, so with his personality, he must be going crazy….

‘Wait. 1 am?’

Haseong bolted upright, as stiff as a wooden statue in a village entrance. He thought it was only around 11:30, how did it get so late? He hurriedly started explaining and gathering his things.

“I, I’m sorry. I have a part-time job early in the morning, and it’s gotten too late. I’ll be going now.”

“Ah, you said you had a part-time job at a convenience store? That’s in the morning?”

“Yes. I have to be there by 7, and it’s already…”

Checking the time again, Haseong slung his gig bag over his shoulder. Even if he left right now, he was pressed for time.

It would be 2 am by the time he got home, 2:30 after showering and drying his hair. If he finished the song he had been working on yesterday, he might as well forget about sleeping. Of course, if he gave up on composing, he could sleep for three hours, but he wasn’t keen on that.

He knew he could never make a living with music just by playing the bass. Especially not in this unknown band. Haseong’s band was a money pit, not a source of income. It was ironic that music required a lot, a very large amount, of money, yet the band he was devoting his time and money to didn’t earn a single penny.

But that was Haseong’s reality. While it would be ideal if he could earn enough from his band activities to make a living, Haseong quickly realized, less than a year after starting the band, that it was a life only a select few could enjoy.

But Haseong wanted to make music. Even though everyone around him mocked his dream, he was serious about it. Even if he couldn’t live his whole life as a bassist, he just wanted to keep making music. This was his humble yet grand dream.

So, from the day he realized his reality, Haseong started studying composition on his own, bit by bit. It was the result of various calculations he had made with his limited brainpower. At the time, he had a good relationship with Woochan, so he also thought that learning composition would be helpful for the band. He naively thought that it would be much better for the two of them to compose together rather than Woochan doing it alone.

‘But that’s when things started to go wrong…’

He remembered Woochan’s face contorting with undisguised displeasure when he first presented him with a song he had written. At the time, he thought it was because the quality of the song, made by a beginner, was abysmal. So he tried even harder, but when he came to his senses, their relationship had become like a torn handkerchief, just like now.

Now he understood why Woochan had made that face. But Haseong didn’t regret his hard work.

‘It’s okay. For now.’

It was only torn, not completely shredded. Haseong quickly pushed aside the negative thoughts and forced a hopeful conclusion. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, pushing down the suffocating feeling creeping into his chest, when,

“7 am? Isn’t it hard to do that and be in a band?”

“Yes.”

Yehan’s surprised voice cut through the suffocating feeling. Haseong answered as calmly as possible. Acknowledging that it was hard and starting to pity himself would only make it harder. This was a know-how Haseong had learned since he was young.

By not being conscious of it, not acknowledging it, and forcibly forgetting about it, his mind would trick his body. Adding a vague sense of hope to that was the icing on the cake. His small, slow brain functioned well enough with just that.

“I’m in the band because I want to be, and the morning part-time job… I have to do it. It’s my job. Of course, I don’t earn as much as a regular employee, but still.”

“So it is hard. And you don’t earn much compared to how hard you work?”

“……”

He missed the timing to say that it wasn’t like that. Perhaps because he had been hit where it hurt. He needed to deny it quickly, but no sound came out even when he tried to speak. Under Yehan’s persistent gaze, he felt like a frog in front of a snake, literally. He waited silently, as if wanting a definite answer.

In the end, Haseong couldn’t give any answer.