TBM Vol 3 Part 14

Sa Seung-yeon picked up the phone he’d placed face down on the seat beside him, pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then tossed it back down with a dull thud. Hwan, spotting a drive through café ahead, turned the wheel and asked:

“Boss, shall we stop at the café?”

“Yeah.”

 Sa Seung-yeon closed his eyes after answering halfheartedly. He’d made it through his recent rut without suppressants. The torn forearm had healed cleanly during that time, and the stitches had come out. Except for a faint red scar, there were no lingering effects.

He had expected a fairly exhausting rut without suppressants, but it had been surprisingly easy. Aside from the somewhat troublesome cleaning due to the Pheromone scent permeating throughout the house and the soiled bedding, his condition was objectively good.

Maybe because he hadn’t taken synthetic pheromone suppressants, his body had adjusted more naturally. Letting the hormones run their course, even if alone, had put less strain on him than suppressing them. If this was what a natural rut felt like, he could almost understand why Alphas insisted on spending theirs with omegas.

.

 Sa Seung-yeon had thus returned to his normal routine quickly. On the day his rut symptoms disappeared, he thoroughly washed his body, which was covered in dried bodily fluids, and first connected his dead phone to the charger. Countless messages had accumulated while his phone was off. He skipped the unnecessary ones and briefly replied to the important ones.

Need to adjust his schedule, he called Hwan. When asked if he wanted to resume work the next day, he’d said his condition was good enough to start even that afternoon. That’s why they’d scheduled the wrap party for ‘Temperature of Overflow’ that evening.

But after ending the call, his gaze drifted to the call log—and his calm mood crumpled in an instant.

“Lee Il-seo, Outgoing Call. 40 seconds”

He checked the call date with a rigid face. Astonishingly, it was during his rut period. Having no memory of it sent chills down his spine.

Up until the symptoms fully kicked in, he’d been thinking about Lee Il-seo while pleasuring himself. He remembered nothing beyond that—but he could guess. He’d likely climaxed several times, imagining Lee Il-seo beneath him in all sorts of positions.

It was pathetic. Fantasizing in such detail about a former sex partner. But during a rut, the unconscious took over. And Lee Il-seo was the only one he’d been with recently—the only one he’d had a satisfying, extended arrangement with, and it was also the first time he had maintained a satisfying relationship with someone for so long.

‘I probably didn’t say anything unnecessary.’

Fortunately, given the very short call duration, it was much more likely that he had accidentally pressed the call button while struggling alone in bed. But considering who was on the other end, it still subtly bothered him.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He planned to casually ask about it if he saw Lee Il-seo at the wrap party. Lee Il-seo would likely spill everything if probed even slightly.

But Lee Il-seo was nowhere to be seen at the gathering. Director Chae said he had personal matters and couldn’t attend. For a moment, Sa Seung-yeon’s composure slipped—but he forced a smile.

However, since the lead actor and darling of the set, Lee Il-seo, was absent, he became the topic at every table. Why didn’t Lee Il-seo come, we miss Lee Il-seo, Lee Il-seo, our Lee Il-seo, pretty Lee Il-seo.

People kept asking him where Lee Il-seo was and why he hadn’t come. When he said he didn’t know, they questioned if the two weren’t close.

Close with that sex partner? He could only smile while swallowing curses internally. And so, he ended the wrap party with an annoying feeling like a small stone rolling around in his chest.

By the time he said his goodbyes to Director Chae and got in the car, he felt like a small stone had lodged itself in his chest—rolling, irritating, impossible to ignore. He slammed the car door hard enough to rattle it. Hwan flinched and asked what was wrong.

Ignoring Hwan’s question, Sa Seung-yeon immediately took out his phone and pressed the call button. The hard phone pressed against his ear, which felt colder as his anger rose.

Everything he’d expected—one by one—was unraveling. He had been sure Il-seo would show up. Sure he’d continue pestering him. And of course…

-The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the beep.

He had thought he would answer the phone.

Sa Seung-yeon shrugged, assuming Lee Il-seo was simply too busy to answer. However, after a few days, Sa Seung-yeon realized that Lee Il-seo hadn’t called back on his missed call, and after calling again, his eyes wavered shortly afterward.

-The number you have dialed does not exist. Please check and try again.

The automated voice felt like a blow to the head. He lowered the phone slowly and stared at the screen.

The screen displaying the call log automatically locked and went dark. Subsequent attempts yielded the same result. Sa Seung-yeon called out to Hwan, who was driving, in a dull voice.

“…Hwan.”

“Yes, boss.”

“When I call someone and it says the number doesn’t exist, does that mean they…”

“They’ve changed their number.”

With Hwan’s straightforward answer, the face reflected on the screen was that of a complete fool.

It was only natural that things with Lee Il-seo had ended. Obviously. The drama filming had concluded, and it was Sa Seung-yeon himself who had drawn the line first with Lee Il-seo, who was awkwardly fumbling with the ending. Therefore, Lee Il-seo had no reason to contact him or specifically inform him about changing his number. Naturally, he knew his place.

And so, ten days after the wrap party, all contact with Lee Il-seo had completely ceased, as expected.

Thankfully, Sa Seung-yeon was swamped—catching up on missed work, attending shoots, commercials, interviews, meetings. He had no time for idle thoughts or sentiment. But still, his eyes kept checking his phone, as if on reflex.

Each time, his carefully crafted smile would fade, and he’d have to redraw a smiling expression on top of it.

“Boss, the coffee’s here.”

After receiving the ordered coffee through the window, Hwan turned and placed it in Sa Seung-yeon’s cup holder first. With an inexplicable thirst that had developed over the past few days, Sa Seung-yeon took a large sip through the straw.

The cold drink slid down his throat, leaving a trail. Just then, his phone, which lay face-down, rang briefly. Sa Seung-yeon snatched it up and unlocked it with his long fingers.

“[Web Message]

(Advertisement) Special deal alert! One day only mega discount – sweet tangerines? Kyu! Buy now while supplies last

▶▶▶https://mong9ball.sale.com”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

The mocking advertisement finally snapped his patience. Hwan glanced nervously in the rearview mirror at the precisely articulated, vicious curse.

“Is… Is the coffee not good? It’s what you usually drink…”

“It’s delicious. Just focus on driving.”

After blocking the advertising number, Sa Seung-yeon tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Infuriatingly, it had to be a tangerine advertisement.

9 (1) [ I don’t know why this is here]

Lee Il-seo boarded the bus in an exhausted state. The sneakers he’d slipped on that morning now squeezed his swollen feet. Thankfully, the bus was mostly empty. He collapsed into a seat, braced his toes on the floor, and rotated his aching ankles.

He’d worked two straight days as a parking attendant. Today, with a shorter shift, he’d also handed out flyers for a gym. Now, his feet were ice-cold and throbbing.

His tired gaze wandered to the window. Taxis and cars sped past on the dark road. The bus, stopping at every station, crawled behind. But that was fine. When you had a clear destination, the slow pace didn’t matter. Anxiety only struck when you were slow and unsure of where you were going.

The account balance for his grandmother’s hospital bills was dwindling, and after paying next month’s bill, he would be in the red. He felt anxious, but he couldn’t even apply for long-term part-time jobs. This was because he had sporadic schedules aligned with the drama’s release dates.

So he worked short-term jobs that lasted a few days. He kept his laptop open to job listing sites and applied whenever he could. Good part-time positions had fierce competition, especially indoor jobs that provided meals and decent pay – these often closed before he could even apply. As a result, Lee Il-seo had to work outdoors for a whole week.

Although his body hadn’t fully recovered from the battered state after his encounter with Sa Seung-yeon, he had no choice. He still got nosebleeds frequently, and his body felt heavy. And why was he so sleepy lately? These days, if he stayed in a warm place for even a little while, he would nod off like a sick chicken.

Drowsy, he stepped off the bus and rubbed his eyes. A vicious wind clawed at the back of his neck. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his one padded jacket and started up the hill.

“Ah…”

He stopped walking and clutched his stomach. Ever since that day, his insides had ached as if bruised. Fortunately, after the initial sharp pain passed, it became bearable and quickly subsided once he caught his breath. With a pale complexion, Lee Il-seo waited for the pain to subside before slowly continuing his walk.

The external bruises had faded. The blood and semen on his clothes had long been washed away. But the pain inside… The slow, spreading black of his phone’s LCD… Those wouldn’t heal so easily.

Wounds beneath the surface seem harder to heal. They’re deeper, more prone to reopening, yet less visible.

What made it even harder to bear was that this pain was connected to Sa Seung-yeon. When it hurt, he would think of Sa Seung-yeon for no reason, and even when he had forgotten the pain, seeing or hearing about him on the street would make him aware of it again.

News of him was everywhere. While changing shifts at the department store, Lee Il-seo overheard employees chatting about him. Even without meaning to, he caught a glimpse of Sa Seung-yeon on their phones—wearing a glittering watch and ring, his eyes cast down in a jewelry ad.

After changing clothes and exiting through the main entrance, a large advertisement for the luxury brand Sa Seung-yeon was an ambassador for was attached to the department store’s exterior wall. On the electronic billboard at the corner of the 10-lane road, an advertisement for a mobile phone featuring Sa Seung-yeon was displayed. While waiting for the bus, Lee Il-seo blankly stared at the periodically appearing Sa Seung-yeon on the billboard.

Sa  Seung-yeon is a handsome man. But the Sa Seung-yeon from that night was different from both the Sa Seung-yeon he had known for 9 years and the one on that billboard. However, Lee Il-seo hadn’t developed any feelings of resentment or blame toward Sa Seung-yeon.

One should take responsibility for their own emotions. It was a place he had gone to of his own accord, and from the beginning, he was the only one desperate enough to want to stay by the other’s side, even as just a partner. He was just a little tired, that’s all.

Lost in ambiguous thoughts, unsure if he was taking Sa Seung-yeon’s side or trying to rationalize, Lee Il-seo entered a narrow alleyway lined with low studio apartment buildings. He was thankful that in this neighborhood, full of trash on the ground and illegally parked cars on steep slopes, it was difficult to find traces of Sa Seung-yeon.

When he opened the entrance door to his studio apartment building, a tall man was standing in the narrow common hallway. Lee Il-seo kept his gaze on the ground and tried to avoid the man by going up the stairs. But after taking just one more step up the stairs, he had to come to a sudden halt.

“…”

Had the violent scent from that day, so intense it felt suffocating, become ingrained in him? Even the faintest, barely perceptible hint immediately drained the strength from his extremities.

Gripping the stair railing to avoid falling, Lee Il-seo belatedly released his held breath. Now he could sense not just Sa Seung-yeon’s cologne, but his distinctive natural scent.

“Se-senior?”

The moment he turned his head, his eyes met pitch-black ones. Wearing a long coat that reached his calves, a turtleneck, and slacks, Sa Seung-yeon had on just a black mask. Though Lee Il-seo didn’t understand why he was here without his manager, fortunately, the neighborhood was sparsely populated, so he didn’t seem to have gotten into any trouble.

Lee Il-seo regained his composure and descended the stairs again. Despite holding his breath, his steps wavered, perhaps due to the once-recognized scent. Standing before him, his mouth inexplicably went dry.

“What brings you all the way here…?”

His strained voice cracked at the end. Instead of answering, Sa Seung-yeon abruptly grabbed his wrist. He then walked ahead, leading them through the entrance and into a secluded alley behind the building.

The forceful grip strong enough to drag him, the broad shoulders of the man walking ahead, the large hand wrapped around his wrist—seeing all this suddenly brought back scattered memories of being pushed against a wall, pinned down by force, clothes torn off, wrists painfully bound. His heart raced to its limit.

“Ah!”

Upon reaching a suitably deserted spot, Sa Seung-yeon released his wrist, and Lee Il-seo, nearly staggering, barely managed to stand with his back against the wall.

Without even a perfunctory smile or common greeting, Sa Seung-yeon maintained a silence that somehow made him look displeased.

Should they not have spent the rut together? Could it be that Sa Seung-yeon was disappointed that he hadn’t stopped someone who had lost their reason, and instead ended up being intimate? But despite how much he had tried to escape, it was Sa Seung-yeon who had pinned him down with force.

A mixture of worry and indignation made the ground beneath him seem to sway. Was it from cold or fear? His body kept trembling.

After staring intently at Lee Il-seo, Sa Seung-yeon lowered his mask and took out a cigarette from his pocket. Smoke lightly flowed from the tip of his chin.

“I had business nearby.”

Though he had a cigarette in his mouth, his voice—clear, clean, yet distinctly weighty—mingled with the smoke that lingered close by.

“There was something I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t reach you, so I stopped by.”

With each tap to flick away the ash, the cigarette ember flickered. Today, facing Sa Seung-yeon, who maintained the same smooth, flawless expression as on set, felt especially difficult.

His pitch-black, colorless eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. So deep and dark, they felt like a wall.

“Ah… Yes.”

Lee Il-seo, barely managing to respond, held and gently massaged the wrist Sa Seung-yeon had grabbed before letting it go. Though the bruises had completely faded, it ached simply because Sa Seung-yeon had grabbed it again. Despite not wanting to sound weak, only a feeble voice came out.

“Go ahead and ask.”

“I couldn’t reach you, Lee Il-seo.”

Throwing his cigarette butt on the ground, Sa Seung-yeon met his gaze and smiled slightly. But there was something cold in his eyes that made Lee Il-seo’s chest tighten. Lee Il-seo could now distinguish that this murky smile was fake. He took out the phone he had kept in his pocket.

“It’s broken.”

Sa Seung-yeon probably wanted an apology for not answering his calls, but Lee Il-seo couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was Sa Seung-yeon who had thrown his perfectly fine phone, reducing it to this state.

Sa Seung-yeon stared blankly at the phone in Lee Il-seo’s hand. Even without showing the blackened screen, the outer glass was severely cracked. Only then did Sa Seung-yeon slowly nod. Somehow, his eyes seemed softer than before.

“How does your phone get so completely smashed?”

Lee Il-seo was the one surprised by Sa Seung-yeon’s response. His reddened eyes narrowed slightly. Looking up at Sa Seung-yeon with trembling eyes, he still maintained that indifferent, relaxed expression.

Could it be?