WANL Ch 16

As he sobbed, Hyunjae let out a low sigh and then stood up. Even as Nanyeong cried with his head bowed, he tracked Hyunjae’s movements. For a moment, he thought Hyunjae might bring him tissues or water to console him, but it didn’t take long to realize otherwise. Standing at the sink, Hyunjae had started doing the pile of dishes.

Being treated as less important than a sink full of dirty dishes dried up Nanyeong’s tears. The young man who had once been so anxious to gauge his mood now didn’t even flinch at the sound of his crying.

At that moment, a biting comment Jihoon had once made surfaced in Nanyeong’s mind:

“Who could ever like someone like you?”

Maybe that was the truth. Even the one man who had whispered that he liked him, that he loved him, had ultimately turned his back on him—and it was entirely his own fault. Hyunjae’s exhausted expression proved it.

Sniff…

Nanyeong was now sniffling quietly, his energy to cry completely spent. As the sorrow ebbed away, it was replaced by a creeping sense of emptiness. The moment his tears stopped, a single thought filled his mind: he wanted to leave this place.

The desperation he’d felt last night when Hyunjae had tried to throw him out seemed like a lie now. He only wanted to escape. Even the anxious hope that Hyunjae might not let him in had vanished without a trace.

The immature love Hyunjae had once expressed with his whole being—declaring his feelings and asking to date him—might be gone forever.

Of course, Nanyeong knew he was the one who had plucked that unripe love before it could mature and crushed it underfoot. Even so, he’d foolishly hoped some trace of it might remain. But Hyunjae had crushed those expectations, almost as if to avenge himself for what he had endured.

Nanyeong was afraid. The moment he realized how terrifying Hyunjae had become, he was overcome with an immense sense of hopelessness.

A moment later, Nanyeong stood up. Hyunjae, having just finished the dishes, turned to look at him while drying his hands. Keeping his gaze lowered, Nanyeong approached the sink.

“Mind if I wash my face?”

“Here?”

“I’ll just rinse with water.”

Hyunjae calmly stepped aside. At the same spot where he had rinsed his mouth earlier, Nanyeong washed his face with one hand. Water trickled down his wrist and arm, soaking his shirt slightly, but he managed to wash his face fairly cleanly.

He deliberately turned on the coldest water to cool his reddened eyes and splashed it over his damp cheeks. After shutting off the tap, he ran his wet fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. With a few strokes, his disheveled hair fell into place, revealing his forehead.

Lifting his head, Nanyeong wiped away the tears, took a deep breath, and composed himself. Though buttoning his shirt with one hand proved difficult, he managed to fasten it all the way to the collar.

After washing his face with cold water, his calm demeanor made him appear as though he had endured no hardship, save for a few bruises. Though he was about to flee after exposing all his disgrace, he clung to this final shred of dignity.

He picked up his jacket from the floor.

“I’m leaving.”

Although Hyunjae had been urging him to leave earlier, he didn’t say a word when Nanyeong announced it—nor did he stop him.

Nanyeong slipped his slender feet into his polished shoes. The moment he bent down, his entire body throbbed, as if he’d been beaten all over. The previous night’s sleep on the bare floor without a mattress had taken its toll. It wasn’t just his back that hurt—his broken arm, split lip, and the bruises scattered across his body now seemed to scream in unison. The contrast between his battered body and his spotless shoes was almost ironic.

Then, Hyunjae, who had remained silent until now, spoke.

“Your arm—who really did that to you?”

Straightening after putting on his shoes, Nanyeong let out a small sigh. Then he turned to look back at Hyunjae.

“Why do you care?”

Nanyeong’s face was as cold as ever.

With those final words, Nanyeong left without so much as a goodbye. Only the sound of his footsteps on the stairs echoed faintly beyond the partially closed door.

Ꮺ

Nanyeong’s house in Hannam-dong was as silent as ever, steeped in a deep stillness.

After returning home the night before, Nanyeong had slept for a solid eighteen hours. By the time he woke up, it was already nighttime. A wave of self-reproach washed over him at having wasted a golden weekend day.

“Haah…”

Through the bedroom window, which overlooked the scenery outside the walls, the lights of cars crossing the bridge sparkled. Staring blankly at the view, Nanyeong felt hunger for the first time. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since visiting Hyunjae’s place.

Shuffling down to the first floor, he found a neatly wrapped dinner waiting for him on the dining table. Ignoring it, Nanyeong went straight to the cellar and retrieved a bottle of champagne. Opening it with just one hand proved to be a struggle.

With a pop, the cork finally came loose. Nanyeong poured the alcohol into a water cup instead of a proper glass, filling it to the brim, and downed it in big gulps. The cold liquid sliding down his throat finally jolted him awake. Only then did he recall that he had swallowed a handful of sleeping pills the night before.

Though one drink now made him feel like he could survive, he knew that soon his stomach might revolt, and he’d end up vomiting bile again. Resigned, Nanyeong unwrapped a bowl of rice and took a few spoonfuls to avoid drinking on an empty stomach. With no appetite, eating felt like chewing on sand. Mechanically shoveling food into his mouth, his vacant gaze unfocused, Nanyeong eventually reached for the alcohol again.

For weeks now, his meals had been little more than a pretext to drink. The repetitive grind of his days had grown unbearable, and without medication, he couldn’t even fall asleep anymore. Worse, the mess his face was left in after an assault made him avoid people altogether. He minimized his interactions, avoided external appointments out of fear of rumors among reporters, and kept dodging family gatherings with flimsy excuses.

With less contact with others and a routine confined to commuting between home and work, Nanyeong unintentionally found himself spending more time at home—a place he had once used mainly for sleeping. Now, being there so much was driving him mad.

This house had been his marital home, built on a prime piece of land inherited from his grandfather. It had been extensively remodeled and cost a fortune. The problem was that his ex-wife had overseen the interior design, leaving her touch and preferences scattered throughout the space.

Some had asked if it didn’t bother him to live surrounded by the remnants of someone who was now a stranger. At the time of their divorce, Nanyeong hadn’t thought much of it. Perhaps it was because his ex-wife hadn’t meant much to him, or because the idea of moving felt like more trouble than it was worth.

“I need to move,” Nanyeong decided impulsively. But where to?

The first place that came to mind was the officetel he had shared with Hyunjae. Though much smaller than his current home, it had suited Nanyeong’s preferences for compact spaces. Even in this spacious, elegant house, he often turned off all the lights and holed up in a single room, spending entire days in bed.

Picking up his phone, Nanyeong called his secretary. After a few rings, the familiar voice answered, “Yes, sir.”

“I’d like to rent an officetel… Yes, the one I stayed in before would be great. No, it doesn’t have to be exactly the same. Oh, and if possible, look for a penthouse option. Thanks.”

After hanging up, Nanyeong fiddled with his phone, his fingers brushing over the screen. Since parting ways with Hyunjae yesterday, he hadn’t received a single message. He hadn’t been expecting a caring inquiry about whether he got home safely or plans for their next meeting, but his chest felt strangely empty.

After much hesitation, he finally sent a message.

[Found a new officetel. It’s bigger than the last one.]

Once the first text was sent, the second came more easily.

[You can move in if you want.]

Staring at the screen, Nanyeong waited for a reply. Minutes passed, but no response came.

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed at his stomach. Doubling over instinctively, he clutched his abdomen. Watching the blank screen was driving him crazy, so he threw his phone aside and stepped into the living room. The familiar ache of nervous gastritis was returning.

The ground floor, with its large garden and courtyard, was surrounded by tall walls for privacy. During the day, the sunlight lessened the feeling of isolation, but at night, the house felt completely cut off from the outside world. Darkness enveloped everything except the rippling blue light of the swimming pool.

Without turning on the lights, Nanyeong opened the folding doors leading to the garden. The pool’s tranquil glow beckoned him.

“Young master!”

A voice called out urgently. Someone from the annex rushed over, dragging slippers across the ground. Nanyeong turned his dazed face toward them.

“When did you get up? Have you had dinner?”

“Yes, just now—”

Before he could finish, the housekeeper interjected.

“The food must’ve gone cold. You should’ve told me; I’ll heat it up again. Did you sleep all this time?”

In his rumpled pajamas, hair sticking out, Nanyeong looked every bit like someone who had wasted the day in bed. The housekeeper, fussing over him, dragged him back to the dining room. She began reheating the dishes with practiced efficiency while her scolding continued.

“You call this eating? Even a toddler eats more than this!” she said, gesturing to the barely touched table.

“Is there anything you’d like to eat?”

Nanyeong was about to reply indifferently that anything would do but paused to think. Then, without much thought, he opened his mouth.

“Can you make kimchi stew?”

“Kimchi stew? Of course! It’ll be ready in no time, so just wait a bit.”

The housekeeper, delighted by the rare request for food, set to work swiftly. Nanyeong wondered why he suddenly craved something he rarely ate. It must have been the lingering, strong scent of kimchi he’d caught at Hyunjae’s place.

Soon, a hearty meal was laid out before him. Despite having asked for it, he ate slowly, barely touching the food.

“I feel like I’m going to get indigestion…”

By the time he finished under the watchful eye of the housekeeper, an hour had passed. After cleaning up, the housekeeper returned to the annex, leaving Nanyeong alone once more.

Just then, as if on cue, his phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, Nanyeong’s expression immediately twisted.

[Officetels aren’t for me. Feels like selling myself.]

[If anyone’s selling, it should be you.]

“This brat…”

Furious, Nanyeong hurled his phone to the floor with all his strength. The heavy device clattered across the marble tiles with a dull thud, but even that didn’t alleviate his anger. Instinctively, he searched for something else to throw but restrained himself, worried the commotion might bring the housekeeper back. His legs ached, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably.

He had only wanted to see him.

But now, Jung Hyunjae reduced their interactions strictly to transactions. It was a small relief that he hadn’t foolishly confessed how much he missed him. Irritated, Nanyeong reached for his sedatives. He shook a few pills into his palm, swallowed them with a gulp, and took a deep breath.

Emerging from the kitchen, Nanyeong collapsed onto the sofa, staring blankly at his trembling fingers. He planned to wait until the shaking stopped, but instead, it grew worse, and his stomach began to hurt intensely.

It wasn’t until much later that he realized the cramps in his stomach were unbearable.

“Ugh… ah… ngh…!”

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and the pain in his solar plexus grew so severe that he could hardly breathe. The bizarre, overwhelming pain spread through his entire body, and it dawned on him far too late that something was seriously wrong.

In his hazy vision, the pool’s blue lights rippled faintly. Unable to make a sound from the intense spasms, Nanyeong passed out.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital.

It took him a moment of blinking to realize where he was. A gentle breeze stirred the curtains, and the steady drip of IV fluid broke the silence.

Why am I here?

Nanyeong tried to recall. His last memory was of the blue glow of the pool, lying in agony on the sofa, and Hyunjae’s text messages.

“Sir.”

The door opened, and his secretary entered. Nanyeong turned his head slightly to look at him.

“You’re awake. Is your stomach still uncomfortable?”

“My stomach…?”

“You were taken to the ER last night. They performed a gastric lavage. It was due to excessive medication and alcohol…”

The secretary’s words jogged his memory. The sedatives, the alcohol, and the sleeping pills from the night before—it was no wonder his stomach had revolted.

Feeling pathetic for failing even basic self-care, Nanyeong sighed deeply. As he turned toward the window, the secretary spoke again in a cautious tone.

“Chairman Seo came to visit.”

At that, Nanyeong’s shoulders stiffened slightly.

“He was… worried about you.”

The secretary had likely chosen his words carefully, but Nanyeong didn’t believe them. A bitter smile crossed his lips. Cutting back on his schedule to hide the signs of his assault was nothing more than an excuse. The only person he’d desperately wanted to keep this from was his father.

The thought that his efforts to conceal everything had been undone in a single moment left him feeling hollow. With a resigned voice, he asked,

“Be honest. What did he really say?”

“…Nothing at all.”

He could picture his father clicking his tongue in disapproval before leaving.

“Hah…”

A heavy sigh escaped him as he sank deeper into the hospital bed.

From the start, Nanyeong had always felt that he was temperamentally unsuited for the Seo family. While others assumed that, as the sole son, he was a natural successor, he knew better. His father and grandfather were not the kind of men to easily relinquish what they had built.

The truth was, Nanyeong lacked ambition and drive. His father, fully aware of this, had always held him to an unrelenting standard.

He understood that he needed to work harder to make up for the disappointment of his divorce. But no matter how much effort he put in, he knew he could never become like his grandfather, the founder, or his father.

“Father always thought children who caused worry were pathetic,” he murmured.

“…”

“And he’s right. I am pathetic.”

“Sir.”

“I don’t know how much longer you’ll be calling me that.”

“Excuse me?”

The rare hint of panic in his secretary’s voice made Nanyeong laugh bitterly.

“Who knows when Father will strip me of this position as well? He doesn’t extend grace to a deficient son.”

“Please don’t say such things.”

Instead of responding, Nanyeong sighed and sat up, running his long, slender fingers through his disheveled hair.

“But don’t worry, you won’t lose your job, even if I do.”

“Sir…”

At this point, all he could do was laugh to himself in hollow resignation.

It was a critical time for his work, and he was under scrutiny. Yet here he was, unable to keep his balance, floundering. He had plunged into chaos as if the world was ending, but the world hadn’t ended—and now he was left to face the consequences of his own actions.

It was the worst.

But the scariest part was the thought that this might not be the end. Hyunjae still had his incriminating photos, and Yoo Jihoon was waiting in the wings, ready to buy his vulnerabilities.

The uncertainty of how far Hyunjae might drag him down pushed him to the brink. The price of straying just once—of mixing his body with someone else’s—was far too severe. The fleeting thought of wanting to end it all crossed his mind.

Ꮺ

[Fine, I’ll sell my body to you. Who’s denying it?]

Discharging from the hospital, Nanyeong shot off the message to Hyunjae in a fit of spite.

It was a response to Hyunjae’s provocative comment about who should be “selling their body.”

After sending the text, an overwhelming wave of stress washed over him. Stuffing his phone into his pocket, he immediately reached for a cigarette.

“Sir…”

The moment he stepped out of the hospital and lit the cigarette, his secretary visibly fidgeted. The doctor had given strict warnings about his medications just before discharge.

“Light it.”

Ignoring him, Nanyeong tossed the lighter in his direction. After a moment’s hesitation, the secretary respectfully handed it over, and Nanyeong took a deep drag as the flame lit his cigarette. He exhaled, carefully positioning himself so the smoke wouldn’t drift toward the walkway.

Sell my body, huh.

The thought brought back the humiliating memory of Hyunjae demanding oral from him. He could vividly recall the hand pressing down on the back of his head, the weight against his groin, and the heat of his palm against his cheek. A sudden surge of arousal made him scowl. Even though it had been degrading, the memory alone was enough to make him feel a lingering ache.

Unconsciously, he bit down on the cigarette filter as he got lost in his thoughts. Hyunjae’s seemingly tender touches had always felt calculated, perhaps even rehearsed. Maybe this was his true nature. Having only been with Hyunjae, Nanyeong had no real basis for comparison. Still, Hyunjae’s occasional roughness caught him off guard. There had been times when he’d been shocked by the explicitness of Hyunjae’s actions—like exposing him to humiliating positions or teasing both his front and back with unrelenting detail.

“Let’s go.”

After flicking the cigarette butt away, Nanyeong climbed into the car’s back seat. The engine purred as the vehicle pulled smoothly out of the hospital parking lot.

His phone buzzed. It was Hyunjae.

[Come to my place.]

A single, short message made his heart thump heavily once. Instinctively, Nanyeong’s mind raced through his calendar for free dates. For the time being, his recovery allowed for some leeway.

When? Today, I can go….

Muttering aloud, he typed the words and hit send. The reply came almost immediately.

[Not today.]

Without hesitation, he called. After a few rings, Hyunjae answered in a low voice.

― Hello.

“I’m a busy man too.”

― I know.

Feeling stifled, Nanyeong loosened the top two buttons of his shirt. When he glanced out the car window, his reflection stared back from the tinted glass: pale skin, a gaunt face with sharper features than usual. It was the face of someone who had undergone gastric lavage in the early hours of the morning.

“What about tomorrow?”

― Tomorrow’s no good either.

“The day after…”

Before he could finish, Hyunjae cut him off with another no.

“Ha, then why did you even tell me to come?”

― Let’s wait until your arm heals.

The words left Nanyeong speechless. It would take at least another month to have the cast removed. Did Hyunjae plan to avoid him entirely until then? As if sensing his confusion, Hyunjae elaborated.

― Sex with that arm is impossible.

“How rough are you planning to get?”

― It’s not about roughness. I just don’t want to bother accommodating someone who’s injured.

“…”

― Sorry, but my tastes are a bit crude.

“You…”

But before he could retort, Nanyeong paused and took a deep breath. He suddenly realized how needy he must have seemed.

“Fine, I understand.”

His tone turned cold and clipped, cutting off further discussion. Surprisingly, Hyunjae didn’t respond. Without waiting long, Nanyeong ended the call.

Even as he tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and gazed out the window, anger boiled inside. While he had decisively hung up, his feelings were anything but resolved. The notion that Hyunjae loved him now felt like a cruel lie. If Hyunjae truly cared, how could he suppress the desire to see or touch him?

Biting the inside of his lip, Nanyeong clasped his trembling fingers outside the cast with his other hand. The doctor had restricted his intake of sedatives, no longer allowing him to take them habitually.

“Secretary Jung. Have you ever used a private investigator?”

“Excuse me?”

His secretary, who was driving, darted a startled glance in his direction before refocusing on the road. Nanyeong continued.

“I’m not planning anything illegal, just some discreet digging.”

“Ah, yes… I’ve heard of specialists for that sort of thing.”

As it turned out, the family already had connections to such services. His secretary seemed to know where to go, and Nanyeong asked him to take care of it.

Ꮺ

On the weekend, Nanyeong holed himself up in his room. Whenever he was left undisturbed, he would stay in bed from the moment he woke up, refusing to move all day.

Though he wanted to remain like this forever, he had a family dinner that evening. It was the first gathering since he’d been rushed to the emergency room for a gastric lavage.

Procrastinating until the very last minute, he finally sighed and forced himself to get up. Moving sluggishly, he entered the dressing room and put on a neatly pressed shirt and trousers, followed by his usual tie. The constriction around his neck felt unbearably suffocating.

He grabbed his jacket, slung it over his arm, and trudged down to the first floor. Just as he reached the bottom, the doorbell rang—his secretary, right on time.

“Sir.”

His secretary’s face, unusually troubled, caught Nanyeong’s attention.

“What is it?”

“They said you don’t need to come.”

“Who? Chairman Seo?”

“Yes…”

Already dressed for the occasion, Nanyeong’s gaze fell on his secretary, who lowered his head apologetically. But instead of lashing out, Nanyeong let out a short sigh. It wasn’t his secretary’s fault.

“Did they just call you?”

“Yes, I got the message while I was on my way to pick you up.”

“I see.”

Pressing his temples, Nanyeong tried to ease the dull ache in his head. This was his father’s way of showing his disappointment—a silent declaration that he didn’t even want to see his son. Likely, his father would keep this up until his anger subsided.

Lately, his father had been blatantly weighing him against his eldest sister, Nanju. With a significant age gap between them, Nanju had long been sidelined as a successor simply because she wasn’t a man. She had never hidden her resentment over this, and now she was doing everything in her power to seize the opportunity to win their father’s favor.

He hadn’t wanted to go in the first place and had forced himself to get up, yet being turned away stung more than he expected. Back in his teenage years, when his father controlled him even more, he had sometimes wished for nothing more than to be disowned. But deep down, he knew he wouldn’t survive it. He couldn’t imagine himself as anything but Seo Nanyeong, the third son of the Taeryang family and an executive director. The older he got, the more convinced he became that without his family name, he was worth little.

Nanyeong let out a deep sigh.

“There’s no excuse. I got caught wavering at a critical time.”

“Sir…”

“If he knew the reason, he’d probably go ahead and cut me from the family register.”

He murmured bitterly, and his secretary flinched. The man was well aware of the “reason.”

“I haven’t told anyone what I saw.”

It was Secretary Jung who had found Nanyeong covered in blood and cleaned him up after he left Yoo Jihoon’s place. Nanyeong forced a faint smile for the normally stoic man.

“I see… You can go now.”

Turning away, he headed back to the living room and carelessly tossed his jacket onto the sofa. It was then that his secretary pulled something from his coat.

“Sir, the information you requested has arrived.”

“Information?”

When he turned, the secretary handed over a manila envelope.

“The private investigator’s report.”

“Ah…”

Nanyeong let out a small sound of understanding, took the envelope, and opened it. Inside was a sheet of A4 paper folded twice.

“I’ll be on my way, then. And, sir…”

As he was unfolding the paper, he glanced up.

“Hm?”

“You shouldn’t drink.”

Caught off guard, Nanyeong let out a faint laugh.

“The doctor warned multiple times that it could be dangerous to mix alcohol with your current medication.”

“I know.”

Although he responded calmly, the secretary lingered by the door.

“I’m saying this because I know you’ll drink the moment I leave.”

The secretary was well acquainted with Nanyeong’s habit of never lying outright. Acknowledging that he shouldn’t drink wasn’t the same as promising not to.

Nanyeong stepped closer to him.

“Don’t worry and just go. I won’t be calling you back tonight.”

He waved the secretary off, and with a reluctant expression, the man finally left.

Once alone, Nanyeong opened the envelope. Unfolding the paper, he skimmed through the detailed report on Hyunjae’s daily life, scanning for anything unfamiliar.

What caught his eye was Hyunjae’s routine schedule.

8 AM – 2 PM: XX Study Room (Monday to Sunday)

2 PM – 6 PM: Part-time job (Monday to Friday; study room on weekends)

Around 7 PM: Simple dinner

7 PM – 11 PM: XX Study Room

Home by midnight

Hyunjae’s schedule was surprisingly regular. As Nanyeong read through it line by line, suspicion crept into his gaze. It didn’t seem like he was so busy that he couldn’t make time to meet someone. In fact, to Nanyeong, it bordered on aimlessness. The thought that Hyunjae had still managed to refuse him stirred a complicated mix of emotions.

Judging by how he spent so much time at the study room, it seemed he was preparing for the college entrance exam this year. Nanyeong recalled how Hyunjae had occasionally looked wistfully at him when he mentioned his alma mater.

What irked him more was the mention of a part-time job.

“I’ve spent so much money on him, and he’s still doing something this petty…”

In the past, Nanyeong had made sure Hyunjae never lacked for spending money. Instead of wasting time on small jobs, Hyunjae could have just reached out to him. It annoyed him that Hyunjae didn’t. Was it because he wasn’t interested in money, preferring to assert control through other means, like sex?

To Nanyeong, it felt like Hyunjae was stubbornly clinging to an odd sense of pride.

The materials from the private investigator included an additional page detailing notable observations. As Nanyeong skimmed through, his eyes widened at one section.

After his part-time job, he is always accompanied by the same woman on his way to the study room. The woman appears to be in her early twenties and seems to be of a similar age.

The moment he saw the phrase “woman of a similar age,” a chill ran through him. Could this be why Hyunjae was keeping his distance?

Unlike himself, Hyunjae had always been heterosexual. Moreover, even at twenty-one, he already knew how to touch another’s body with intimacy. It wasn’t surprising that Hyunjae had experience—his looks alone would have drawn endless attention. After all, hadn’t Nanyeong himself approached him after seeing him casually exchange numbers with an unfamiliar woman? Hyunjae must have been swayed by countless temptations throughout his life.

What’s more, Hyunjae was soft-hearted and easily attached to people. Despite never having held or loved a man before, he’d fallen in love with Nanyeong simply because they’d shared intimate moments. For someone who’d never even considered a man as a romantic option—let alone one ten years older—he must have been far too easy to sway. Perhaps his standards were simply low, as long as the conditions for sharing warmth were met. Gender, appearance, personality—they seemed not to matter to him.

There was no guarantee that someone like Hyunjae wouldn’t turn his eyes to a woman filling the seat beside him. A wave of unease gripped Nanyeong.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach—different from his usual aches. His chest felt physically tight, but he dismissed it as just another bout of his chronic gastritis.

At the top of the page was a phone number, provided for additional inquiries. Acting on impulse, he picked up his phone and carefully entered the eleven digits. The call connected, and a dry male voice answered.

“Yes… I’d like further information on the woman of a similar age who accompanies him. More precise details… Oh, and whether they’ve ever gone home together.”

As he made the request, it felt as though he were tracking a spouse’s infidelity. His ears burned with shame, but the man on the other end, accustomed to such requests, responded professionally.

After ending the call, Nanyeong stared at his phone for a while. He felt disgusted with himself for stooping to such lengths. It wasn’t unlike him to be underhanded, yet an inexplicable sense of helplessness weighed him down.

After some time, he made another call—this time directly from his recent call list.

“This is the person who called earlier. About the request I made… It won’t be necessary after all. Please cancel it. Yes… I realized it wasn’t important.”

After hanging up, Nanyeong collapsed onto the dining table. The cold surface of the marble felt sharp against his cheek.

Not important, he told himself, though the thoughts were driving him mad.

Grasping at his shirt where his chest ached, he wrestled with his options. He could either satisfy his curiosity or avoid further disgrace. Ultimately, he chose the latter, reasoning that knowing the truth would only bring more pain.

As he sat there, dazed, his gaze wandered to a bottle of sedatives on the counter and the wine cellar full of alcohol. He alternated between the two options before eventually reaching for the wine.

As he tipped back drink after drink, his secretary’s voice, warning him not to mix alcohol with his medication, echoed faintly in his mind. But by the time he remembered, he was already thoroughly drunk.

Sitting in the dimly lit living room, the shimmering blue light from the pool outside caught his attention. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette and stepped out into the garden. The chill in the night air bit at him through his thin shirt.

In moments like these, he missed the view from the officetel he used to frequent. Even when he was alone there, it never felt lonely. He always had someone to wait for.

Would he ever return to those days?

With a cigarette between his lips, Nanyeong blinked slowly as he stared at the rippling water. He lit the cigarette, watching as wisps of white smoke curled into the night.

Then, impulsively, he jumped into the pool.

A loud splash echoed as water surged upward. His soaked shirt clung to his skin, and his slacks grew heavy, but he remained submerged. The cigarette in his mouth quickly turned soggy and crumbled apart.

“Young Master!”

A familiar voice called out urgently from above. Blowing bubbles underwater, he surfaced to see the housekeeper standing at the entrance of the guest house, her face a picture of shock.

“What on earth are you doing?” her expression seemed to scream, her features etched with disbelief.

Brushing his wet hair back, Nanyeong smiled—a smile that only made him look more unhinged.

“Please, get out of there. You’ll catch a cold!”

“It’s not that cold.”

With that, he flipped onto his back, floating idly on the water. As he lay on the surface, the barren sky of the city—devoid of a single star—filled his view.

I miss him.

The urge to see him was unbearable. Yet the memory of the cold reception he’d received the last time he acted on such an impulse held him back. Back then, he’d sought him out with nothing but a desperate desire to see his face, only to be met with rejection. The thought extinguished his impulse.

He was not an honest person, and Hyunjae no longer had the tolerance to endure that dishonesty.

He missed Jung Hyunjae—the Hyunjae who once longed for his love. He missed the young man who had shyly expressed his feelings, his sincerity so pure it made his heart ache. The longing burned so fiercely in his chest that it felt like a physical pain. Absentmindedly, Nanyeong reached up with his wet hand to touch his chest, wondering if it had truly been scorched.

But the person he yearned for might be gone forever.

He had been the one to trample on that sincerity. For that, he had no one to blame but himself.