FRWD Ch 5

Right now, I briefly considered advising you that instead of worrying about your ex-boyfriend, you should be worried about your ass, considering at least two guys are after you. However, I decided it would be more fun to mark you with my pheromones.

‘He probably wouldn’t understand even if I gave him advice with that brain of his.’

This man in front of me, while incredibly my type in terms of looks, was pathetically stupid. With that face and such a soft personality, he must have gone through a lot in life, yet surprisingly, he was also incredibly naive. He lacked the sharp edge and tenacity characteristic of people who endure hardship. Maybe it’s because he’s still young.

When my composer mother came up in conversation, his eyes sparkled with excitement, but as soon as I mentioned my father’s suicide, he became flustered and looked around nervously. Just from that, I could tell how different he was from me.

The composer you admire, my mother, treated her husband’s suicide as nothing more than a disposable motif for her compositions, like some trash, and the father you said you missed was a pathetic lunatic who went crazy over an omega who wouldn’t even look at him and killed himself.

—I didn’t reveal this harsh truth out of consideration for Haseong, but rather out of patience for my objective.

Frankly, he was a type of person I didn’t get along with at all on a personal level. Even if I don’t consider personality, this wasn’t a matter of considering or not considering personality. Yehan was overwhelmed with a profound sense of doubt after only their second meeting.

In a world where stupidity has no cure and innocence is a sin, someone like Haseong is no different from a patient with an incurable disease and a criminal. The fact that I was kindly taking him home and lighting the way with my headlights just because I was horny made me scoff at the absurdity of it all.

‘We’re just too incompatible…’

Because it was funny how he reacted so readily to my teasing, I babbled sweet nothings without much thought, but at this rate, it wouldn’t last long. There’s a limit to how much I can act.

Since Haseong is straight, I expected it to take longer. It was true that I thought about putting in some effort since he fit my taste perfectly after a long time. Also, he was vulnerable to kindness, and despite being shy, his reactions were honest, so I thought I’d get to taste him soon enough.

‘His face is incredibly my type.’

Even while I was watching his foolish actions with exasperation, just looking at his face made my non-existent patience reappear. It was to the extent that I had a fresh, naive realization, as if for the first time in my life, wondering if this kind of face was my ideal type.

But now, Yehan was faced with a different obstacle, unrelated to Haseong’s sexual orientation.

Since this wasn’t a scripted performance, my true nature and feelings would unintentionally slip out at times. Whenever that happened, Haseong would look at me with wide, surprised eyes, and try to retreat from the distance I had carefully narrowed, causing me considerable trouble.

If I brushed it off as a misunderstanding, he would readily accept it like a fool and move on, but frankly, it was becoming tiresome. I was worried that I’d get tired of him before the relationship progressed without any reward for my efforts, and that worry was coming true.

Seeing him with his mouth tightly shut and his eyebrows furrowed, as if he were looking at a crazy person, made me feel quite disgusted. Moreover, the look Haseong sometimes gave me was very similar to the way my father looked at my mother… and that subtly bothered me.

‘Should I stop here?’

But that thought vanished the moment Haseong, walking up the alley, suddenly turned around and glanced at me. As soon as he realized I was waiting with my headlights on, his pace quickened, and he kept looking back, seemingly nervous.

When he reached the top, he awkwardly nodded towards my car window beyond the downhill slope and disappeared around the corner. Seeing that, I suddenly remembered the expression he made when I asked if he was tired.

“…….”

He must have thought he was doing a good job using his usual stoic and indifferent expression as a wrapper, but to Yehan, whose profession was acting, the vulnerability hidden beneath the wrapper was clearly visible. It couldn’t be denied that there was something pitiful and endearing about him putting on a brave front with a fragility that would crumble with the slightest touch.

Well, it’s not like I started this without expecting it to become bothersome. Didn’t I decide from the beginning not to consider his personality? Just before starting the car, Yehan sent a short message to Hyeongseok.

[Make a spot at your club for him.]

I hadn’t intended to help him find a job, but a sudden whim moved Yehan. It wasn’t a big deal, and the fun and intrigue still slightly outweighed the annoyance. It wasn’t something I couldn’t do.

Judging by the way my lower body tightened just imagining him crying like he did when he got dumped by his girlfriend for sticking to me, I wanted to at least have a taste before I got tired of him. Especially the sight of him pleading and groaning beneath me with a flustered expression.

But even that base desire was about to dissipate when I saw Haseong hesitate, unable to leave Woochan alone.

“…Woochan-hyung.”

“Will Mr. Haseong stay too?”

“No. It’s not like that….”

Yes, that’s right. If he had said something empty-headed like he would stay too, despite almost getting hit, I would have lost interest immediately. There’s a limit to stupidity. I didn’t like his unnecessary subservience, and if he was that hopeless, he wasn’t worth seeing anymore.

Fortunately, Haseong acted resolutely, as if he had made up his mind.

“I’ll talk to you later. Or I’ll take a taxi…, Ow!”

Although that admirable attitude vanished instantly when he got hit between the eyebrows by a wad of cash Woochan had thrown, it was still a remarkable improvement compared to the foolish behavior he had shown so far, which made me seriously question his intelligence.

Yehan put a finger on Haseong’s forehead and rubbed it in circles, glancing at Woochan. He deliberately put his arm around Haseong’s shoulders in a friendly manner and lowered his voice, saying, “Let me see.” Woochan’s clenching fist, as if he were about to swing it, looked menacing.

He seemed unable to bring himself to attack me, having keenly felt the difference in strength from the earlier incident, combined with the difference in physique and the inherent limitations of being a recessive omega against a dominant alpha. However, conversely, it meant that he would still resort to violence against Haseong, who was a beta and of similar build.

Whether that bastard fucks Haseong or not, whether his feelings for Haseong are a mixture of inferiority, love-hate, and twisted possessiveness… I don’t care about any of that….

“You should fix that habit of hitting people.”

Yehan murmured quietly, looking at Haseong’s flour-like complexion. The thought of a blue bruise blooming on his pale, light-deprived skin was unpleasant. There were several reasons why he was attracted to Haseong, but among them, his snow-white skin and sturdy physique played the biggest part.

If I recall why I’m putting up with this ridiculous bullshit, it’s because I can’t let that bastard with the gleaming eyes hit Haseong as he pleases.

What should I do? Getting rid of him completely is too much work. Yehan was pondering this when,

As Woochan turned around with a huff, Haseong picked up the wad of cash that had fallen in front of him and threw it at Woochan’s back. He didn’t seem to intend to hit his head, but unfortunately, the wad of bills, flying in a parabola, hit the top of Woochan’s head directly and bounced off.

Woochan, who was trying to suppress his anger and leave, thinking he wouldn’t stand a chance, turned around abruptly with a fierce look. Haseong froze in the position he had thrown from, clearly looking flustered.

“…Hyung hit my face too.”

Finally, an indignant excuse escaped Haseong’s lips. Considering how he had asked what I meant when I mentioned fan service when we first met, he seemed to have an unexpectedly short temper.

Intrigued by Haseong’s unexpected action, which he hadn’t expected from someone he thought was just a fool and a pushover, Yehan quietly observed the unfolding situation.

“…This fucking bastard, I’ve had enough.”

“No, I told you not to hit me so many times!”

The two faced each other, looking as if they were about to grab each other by the collar at any moment. The agitation in his usually stoic eyes and his angry expression with gritted teeth were quite appealing.

If I were to grab him by the hair and force myself on him, he would probably make that exact expression. I had only imagined him with a tearful expression until now, but this wasn’t bad either. In fact, it suited his looks much better.

Pretending to caress his ear while ripping out that unsightly piercing, leaving reddish handprints on his buttocks, which were as white as his face, gripping his hips as if to crush them and leaving dark bruises, thrusting my dark cock into his pale, unused hole… surely….

The lewd fantasy, unfolding with the subject right in front of him, ended as Woochan raised his hand again. It was a moment that reaffirmed his resolve to discipline those vulgar hands.

“Stop. We’ll be late at this rate.”

If it weren’t for the issue of his violent tendencies, I would have wanted to see how they would fight, but I couldn’t delay any longer. I had deliberately ditched my manager and come because I heard they were having a welcome party for Haseong. My abandoned manager would be cursing me out right now.

If it were a trivial schedule, it wouldn’t matter if I turned back now, but I had an interview with an overseas magazine scheduled for the evening. I had to be back by 4 o’clock at the latest. Yehan stepped in front of Haseong, who was standing next to Woochan, and intercepted Woochan’s hostile glare.

“Let’s go. And Woochan-ssi?”

When I called his name, the twitching of his lips was clearly visible to Yehan. It was obvious that he felt intimidated by the difference in physique, but the fact that he was trying to hold his ground and not back down meant he had some guts. Yehan disguised his emerging sneer with a smile and continued speaking.

“I’m really sorry about what happened today. My memory isn’t very good. Please accept that money as a token of my apology.”

He gestured with his chin towards the wad of cash that had bounced off and fallen to the floor. Woochan’s eyes moved slightly, following his chin. When Yehan nodded his chin once more, signaling him to pick it up, Woochan clenched his fist. His fist was trembling pathetically. Seeing that, Yehan smiled even wider.

“If you don’t want to, it can’t be helped. Oh, should I just call you a taxi? You can come with us if you want.”

“…Forget it.”

The final “it” was so quiet it was barely audible. Yehan wasn’t interested enough in him to care about a kid using informal language, so he just let it slide.

“Alright then. Shall we go? We can’t have the guest of honor being late for his welcome party, can we, Haseong-ssi?”

As he was urging Haseong along, pushing his back, the moment the intimidating figure standing right in front of him moved away, the taunt Woochan had been suppressing burst out from his lips, unable to contain his temper.

“…But isn’t it funny that you’re joining in too? Yoon Haseong, that bastard, asked me why I was trying to butt in earlier.”

“That’s because hyung is being shameless…”

“Ah, this building is within a building, you see. I invested quite a bit when Hyeongseok was setting this place up.”

Yehan casually dismissed the situation in one go and narrowed his eyes at Haseong.

“I think this qualifies me to attend. What do you think, Haseong-ssi?”

“…I think you’re more than qualified.”

“Good.”

That answer was enough.

💜

Yehan didn’t say anything about the embarrassing spectacle he and Woochan had just made. Considering his usual inquisitive nature, always asking about even the smallest things, Haseong had expected a barrage of questions as soon as they got in the car. But he only asked this:

“If I hadn’t stopped you earlier, were you planning to just take the hit?”

“I was planning to dodge it.”

“Then why did you just stand there?”

“I had to see his fist to gauge where it would land…”

“Ah, such a profound reason.”

Yehan just chuckled and teased, “Haseong-ssi, you’d be good at boxing. You’re a natural fighter.” The topic of Woochan ended there. On the way to the restaurant, Yehan only cracked jokes, which allowed Haseong to relax.

The repeated conflicts with Woochan were stressful, and he had almost dragged the unrelated Yehan into it earlier, making his jaw muscles tense with anxiety.

But listening to Yehan’s gentle jokes, the tension that had filled his entire body melted away. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, he had regained some of the excitement he had felt about the welcome party.

Hyeongseok’s boast about treating everyone to top-grade Hanwoo beef as a perk for the new employee wasn’t an exaggeration, judging by the rather extravagant exterior of the restaurant. The barbecue place looked like a palace.

As Haseong opened the door to the room Yehan led him to, Hyeongseok and Miyeon greeted them with a clamor, as if they had been waiting.

“Why are you so late? Where’s Woochan?”

“He said he couldn’t make it because of something.”

“Really?”

“Good riddance. I don’t like him anyway.”

“Hey, in front of Haseong…”

“So what? He treats Haseong so badly. I bet Haseong doesn’t care either.”

Miyeon retorted sassily and picked up the tongs to place the meat on the grill. Haseong silently agreed and took the tongs from Miyeon’s hand. He couldn’t let the one who caused the delay by fighting make his senior grill the meat.

However, as soon as he picked up a piece of meat, Yehan snatched the tongs away, replacing them with a glass of cider. “Someone will come and grill it for us soon,” a gentle voice murmured.

As Haseong sipped his cider in a daze, Hyeongseok, as if trying to lighten the mood, raised his glass high and exclaimed,

“Anyway, Haseong, let’s have a toast first. Cheers!”

Four long glasses clinked in the air. Excited about his first company dinner, Haseong clutched his glass with both hands and greeted everyone.

“Please take good care of me.”

“Oh, we should be saying that to you.”

“Yeah, Haseong. Since you’ve started, stay with us for a long time. Landlord, you say something too.”

“If Hyeongseok gives you a hard time, call me right away. I’ll replace the boss.”

“…Are you kidding?”

Hyeongseok stared at Yehan with wavering eyes, but at the same time, the staff member in charge of their table came in and stood next to the grill, so he couldn’t hear the answer.

A subtle silence lingered while the staff member skillfully placed and cut the meat. Only when the staff member, having finished their task, started to step back, did Miyeon exclaim cheerfully.

“Boss! A bottle of soju here, please!”

“We have to go back to work right after eating! What are you talking about, alcohol?”

“Working while drinking beer is the same as going to work after drinking soju. Right, Haseong?”

Haseong glanced at Hyeongseok and cautiously nodded. He had been craving some alcohol with the meat, and since Miyeon had set the stage, there was no reason to refuse.

“Just one bottle.”

“Oh, fine. Drink. But I’m not taking you home if you get drunk.”

With Hyeongseok’s permission, the excited Miyeon placed four soju glasses in front of them. Yehan and Hyeongseok declined, using driving as an excuse, so in the end, Miyeon and Haseong traded shots and finished the bottle.

Haseong filled his stomach, accepting the wraps that Miyeon, Hyeongseok, and Yehan took turns making for him. His worries about Woochan had long since disappeared. He was so engrossed in eating that he only noticed Yehan preparing to leave after he said goodbye.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Yes. I have something to do in the evening.”

Yehan replied with a smile and put another large wrap into his mouth. Haseong mumbled with his cheeks bulging.

He couldn’t stop him if he had a schedule, but he felt inexplicably disappointed. While he and Miyeon devoured the meat on the grill, Yehan had only sipped water and eaten a few pieces of meat.

He quickly chewed and swallowed the wrap in his mouth and stood up, intending to see him off, when Yehan asked mischievously,

“Are you disappointed?”

“It seems like you’re leaving without eating much.”

“I deliberately ate less so Haseong-ssi could eat more.”

“…I’ll definitely treat you to a meal next time.”

“Why would Haseong-ssi buy me a meal? It’s not like you stole what was on my plate.”

Yehan chuckled and poked his still-chewing cheek. It wasn’t stealing, but it was close enough, so Haseong’s ears flushed with guilt.

Yehan lightly pinched the area around his earlobe where the piercing was, then removed his hand and patted Haseong’s shoulder. He turned around after telling him not to follow him out and waved him back inside as he answered a phone call from someone.

Since it would be awkward to stick to his side while he was on the phone, Haseong reluctantly returned to the room. Miyeon, as if waiting, poured him more alcohol and began her interrogation in earnest.

“What’s your relationship with him? I was dying to ask.”

“Just…”

“It’s not ‘just’ anything! He’s your fan!”

“I met him for the first time the day we performed here. He said he became a fan and talked to me first.”

“He saw your performance…?”

At Miyeon’s skeptical tone, Haseong silently drank his soju. Even when faced with such a reaction, he couldn’t retort with something like, “What’s wrong with our band?” It was a matter of conscience.

Even Haseong himself had wondered how Go Yehan could have become his fan after seeing that performance, so it must have seemed even stranger to others.

Seeing Haseong’s stiff expression, Miyeon quickly added,

“Oh, I acknowledge you, Haseong. Yeah, someone could become a fan after seeing you. Quite a few people asked for my number too.”

“Why would they ask for your number?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Scouting or hitting on me. I didn’t give it to them because you both seemed uninterested.”

“Scouting….”

So, what Woochan was so wary of was actually happening. Haseong gulped down the soju, which left a bitter aftertaste, and licked his lips.

Being hit on was something he was used to, so it wasn’t a concern. Even on the days when their performances were a mess, there were always one or two people waiting to ask for his number. It just wasn’t pleasant because their intentions were obvious. At the time, he also had a girlfriend.

The realization that not everyone who asked for his number was looking for a relationship came to him belatedly after hearing Miyeon’s words. And also the fact that there must have been a lot of under-the-table requests that Woochan hadn’t shared with him.

‘So that’s why he was like that.’

He now understood why Woochan had openly expressed his displeasure at the news of him working at Bleach, and glared at him, asking if he was planning to switch bands. He understood, but he still felt bad.

“Why? Are you thinking of switching? You should have said something earlier! I can introduce you to tons of bands I know.”

“Miyeon, don’t put unnecessary ideas in his head.”

Hyeongseok, who had been listening quietly, gently cautioned Miyeon. But she ignored him and instead tried to persuade Hyeongseok.

“Honestly, wouldn’t even you think it’s a waste, boss? His band is hopeless except for him.”

“Please, just…”

“Haseong, I’m just going to ask you straight out. Why are you still sticking with that band?”

“…Because it feels like I’m betraying my hyungs if I go somewhere else.”

Haseong knew that they were on a sinking ship, or rather, a ship that had never even floated, just submerged in seawater. He also knew that to survive, he would eventually have to swim up on his own.

But with a vivid picture of what would happen the moment he let go, he… still lacked the courage.

“Betrayal? In a world full of backstabbers? Are they being loyal to you? No, they’re not.”

“They’re hyungs I’ve been close with since I was young, and we promised to stay together regardless of the outcome… so it’s a bit…”

“Oh, you fool. What’s so important about a promise? I’ve been married more than ten times, verbally speaking.”

“Hmm…”

Miyeon’s risqué joke hung in the air as Haseong fiddled with his glass. Hyeongseok, who had been listening to Miyeon’s incessant chatter with his hand on his forehead, quietly called out, “Haseong.”

“I was in a band too, you know? With my high school friends.”

“Yes.”

“Back then, I thought we got along really well. But we disbanded after a year and now we don’t even see each other.”

“…….”

“You experience that kind of thing all the time in bands. There’s a joke that if you pick any band that’s been around for about a year and ask, ‘Didn’t they disband?’ they’ll all say yes.”

Hyeongseok laughed bitterly, mentioning the joke that arose from the sheer number of bands that disband.

“What I’m saying is, you don’t have to force yourself to stay together because of old times. With your visuals and bass skills, frankly, you could go anywhere, you’re diligent, you’re young….”

He mumbled, suddenly sighing deeply and ruffling his hair irritably. “Damn money…,” an incomprehensible lament leaked from Hyeongseok’s lips.

Is he having a hard time because of money these days? But is it okay for him to buy such expensive meat? What kind of consolation should I offer in this situation? Haseong racked his brains, drawing on his limited work experience. What is the proper attitude for a subordinate to show when their superior is struggling?

He glanced at Miyeon, who was nonchalantly pouring herself another drink, paying no attention to Hyeongseok. Giving up on learning from her, Haseong hesitantly reached out. He awkwardly patted Hyeongseok’s shoulder, and Hyeongseok let out a strange, crying sound, “Keuhheuk.”

Hyeongseok, who had been suffering alone for unknown reasons, raised his usually gentle, drooping eyes and cried out pathetically,

“I’m telling you this to give you some confidence, man. Just live with half your face, please.”

“…Thank you.”

Haseong struggled to move his lips, his cheeks firmly gripped by Hyeongseok’s thick hands during the “half your face” part.

Hyeongseok continued to lament for a while, saying things like he was going to hell and how such a good kid ended up with such a miserable fate.

Haseong endured being squished like a dumpling until Miyeon finally intervened, saying, “If you keep crushing his face like that, he’ll hardly live up to his looks,” and he was finally released.

Haseong’s first company dinner, where he received five packs of forced-upon marbled beef and the considerate suggestion to take the day off, ended in this chaotic atmosphere.

Despite the short and awkward dinner, Haseong encountered Yehan frequently afterward.

Starting with a text that evening asking if he got home safely, they naturally continued messaging each other. More importantly, Yehan, who had entered a break period, visited the live club three or four times a week.

Every time he visited, Haseong felt a simultaneous surge of nervous excitement and a soothing sense of calm.

It was strange. When they were together, even simple conversations made him sweat, racking his brains over how to respond, yet he felt disappointed when Yehan said he had to leave soon. Listening to his gentle voice made his ears tingle.

After pondering this phenomenon, Haseong finally concluded: the nervousness was due to his bandmates, and the sense of calm was a psychological effect of Yehan’s exceptionally handsome face.

“Damn, he’s amazing! Are you really Haseong’s fan? Really?”

“Dude, you’ve made it. Can I get your autograph?”

“My girlfriend is coming soon too, can we take a picture together…?”

Haseong nervously bounced his leg, watching Juwon and Youngjun barge into Yehan’s table and cause a commotion. Every time he tried to approach and pull them away, Yehan waved him off with a smile, telling him to go back to work, so he could only watch from afar.

Did Woochan tell them? No, there was no one else to tell them, so it must have been him. In any case, after the day Yehan and Woochan met, the other band members started hanging around the live club to see Go Yehan.

Knowing how much it would bother Yehan if they met, Haseong naturally tried to keep them apart. But today, due to Yehan’s unexpected visit, the two, having finally seen him in person, were extremely excited.

Woochan, the likely culprit, simply summarized his thoughts with “Those idiots are making a scene,” and instead of joining the chaos, stood firmly beside Haseong.

‘Is he trying to intimidate me?’

After the humiliation of being sent home alone on the day of the company dinner, Woochan seemed to have shifted his tactics from physical violence and verbal abuse to silent treatment.

He pretended not to hear when Haseong told him not to visit him at work, ignored his pleas to take his bandmates away, and just stood there like a statue, watching him intently. It was driving him crazy. The occasional snide remarks about Yehan were a bonus.

Even when Haseong told him to stop, Woochan stubbornly insisted that “Go Yehan is a two-faced pervert.” Haseong tried to let it go in one ear and out the other, as always.

“I’m sorry, but photos are a bit difficult. I can give you autographs, though.”

“Aw, come on, hyung! We won’t post it anywhere, please. My girlfriend is your fan.”

“That’s right, that’s right. If you’re a fan of Haseong, you’re practically a fan of our band, right? Let’s take a picture together!”

He was already annoyed and uncomfortable, and Youngjun and Juwon were adding fuel to the fire. It was embarrassing to see them clinging to Yehan even after he politely declined. Finally, Haseong approached resolutely, ready to be shooed away by Yehan again.

“Just go, please.”

He grabbed Youngjun and Juwon’s arms and pulled them up like radishes, and the two, smaller than Haseong, came along obediently. Of course, only their bodies were obedient; their mouths were not. They protested, asking how he could lift his hyungs like that.

As he was about to drag them away, ignoring them, Yehan, still smiling pleasantly, stopped him.

“It’s alright, Haseong-ssi, go back to work. Hyeongseok scolded me for bothering you at work.”

“What? When did hyung ever bother me…?”

Haseong was genuinely bewildered. Whenever Yehan visited, he brought snacks and drinks for him, Miyeon, and Hyeongseok and offered words of encouragement, not bother him. It was his bandmates who were actually interfering with his work.

“That’s what I’m saying. Haseong-ssi, please talk to Hyeongseok.”

“Oh, yes! I will. And I’ll take these hyungs with me. I apologize.”

It seemed like Hyeongseok had misunderstood something. Haseong apologized on behalf of his still-protesting bandmates and resolved to clear up the misunderstanding with Hyeongseok. He would also ask him to ban his bandmates from the club on days they weren’t performing….

Even though this wasn’t a place with a dress code or anything, he had no choice since they wouldn’t listen to him no matter how many times he told them not to come. He didn’t want to be interrupted at work anymore, and he felt so apologetic to Yehan and Hyeongseok that it was hard to face them.

“Hey, I haven’t gotten an autograph yet! Honestly, you can do that much, can’t you?”

“Does he think he’s something special just because he has a celebrity fan?”

While Haseong was seriously considering requesting a ban, Youngjun and Juwon were being completely unreasonable. Haseong suppressed his throbbing headache and ground out,

“Stop it. What are you trying to do?”

“What’s wrong with getting an autograph? Damn it, what did we do?”

Haseong looked at Woochan, who was just standing there watching, and signaled for help with his eyes. He looked at him pleadingly, hoping that he would at least pretend to listen to Woochan, if not him, and take them away. But Woochan just scoffed and turned his head.

That jerk. As Haseong gritted his teeth, it was Yehan, as always, who extended a helping hand. He had somehow gotten a pen and was soothing Youngjun and Juwon with a bright smile.

“Haseong-ssi, it’s okay. I’ll give you as many autographs as you want. Where should I sign?”

“Then on my case!”

“I’ll get mine here, on my guitar.”

Yehan signed wherever they wanted without a hint of annoyance, bantering with them.

“Please take good care of our Haseong-ssi. Haseong-ssi is the youngest in the band, right?”

“He is. He’s been the youngest for about 10 years now.”

“We’re already taking good care of him, don’t worry.”

“It’s funny that you’re worried about our members’ relationship.”

The last comment was undoubtedly Woochan’s. He had been quiet all along, but he suddenly jumped in and froze the atmosphere, silencing the noisy group for a moment.

“…….”

“This is my first time being a fan, so I’m worried about everything. Is this what being a fan is like?”

It was Yehan who broke the silence again. Haseong felt so apologetic he almost wanted to cry. But that feeling was short-lived. His eyes widened at Woochan’s next words.

“Are you drenching him in pheromones out of fan love?”

What?

Haseong reflexively pointed at his own nape and rolled his eyes towards Yehan. Last time, he had dismissed it, thinking Woochan must have been drunk, but not today. Considering the expression “drenching,” he couldn’t just let it slide.

Especially since the person who had kindly explained about marking with pheromones as a deterrent was none other than Yehan himself. What kind of deterrent was he trying to create by “drenching” him, a beta, in pheromones?

Not only Haseong, but even Youngjun and Juwon stared at Yehan with bewildered expressions. Although they were betas, they sensed something was amiss from the tense atmosphere and Woochan’s sarcastic tone.

“That’s a misunderstanding.”

Four pairs of eyes were fixed on him, but Yehan continued speaking calmly,

“I’m going into rut soon, and I can’t take suppressants due to my constitution. So when it’s close to my rut, I have trouble controlling my pheromones.”

“Are you sick…?”

“I’m not physically ill, but I’m allergic to the main ingredient in suppressants. It’s quite severe.”

Yehan hesitated, then playfully mimicked choking himself.

“They say I could go into shock if I take it.”

“…That sounds serious.”

It was the first time Haseong had seen someone talk so casually about potentially dying. His already pale face turned even whiter.

“It’s okay because I can just not take it. The problem is that since I live without medication, my pheromones unintentionally get on the people around me. It must have been more so with Haseong-ssi since we’ve been meeting often lately. I apologize.”

Yehan apologized sincerely, his tone completely different from when he had talked about his own potential death. Haseong felt foolish for momentarily misunderstanding him and quickly waved his hands.

“I can’t smell anything anyway.”

“Woochan-ssi must have been uncomfortable. There’s nothing more disgusting than another alpha’s pheromones.”

“If you know that, shouldn’t you manage it or stop coming?”

“Haha, thanks for your concern.”

It didn’t sound like concern at all, but Yehan smoothly brushed it off. As the issue seemed resolved, Juwon, who had been smirking since the word “rut” came up, acted deliberately oblivious.

“So, what do you do during your rut? Kim Woochan said it’s really painful without the medication.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m obligated to answer that.”

As if embarrassed by the blunt rejection, Juwon immediately shut his mouth. The tone was gentle, but the clear displeasure in the content made Haseong’s palms sweat.

Is he angry? Of course, he would be. His bandmates’ behavior was so disgraceful that even he, who associated with such people, deserved to have his ties severed.

Usually, he was the target of their disgraceful behavior, so he just had to endure it. But observing it from a third-party perspective made them all seem incredibly pathetic. It made him question how he had spent over a decade with such people.

Had he become accustomed to it without realizing, or had he deliberately ignored it? The jarring realization struck Haseong like a blow to the head.

“Anyway, Haseong-ssi, I really hope you don’t misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand? I should be the one apologizing. My hyungs have been… since earlier…”

“It’s alright. It’s fun.”

Could he possibly mean that…? Both his eyes and mouth were smiling, but Haseong would bet his entire fortune that it wasn’t because he was having fun. But Youngjun and Juwon, emboldened, taunted Haseong.

“Did you hear that, Yoon Haseong? You’re so dramatic.”

“Since you’re having so much fun, how about a picture with us?”

Their obsession with pictures was obvious. They wanted to post them on social media. Knowing how obsessed they both were with social media, Haseong crossed his arms to form an X.

Saying they wouldn’t post it anywhere only meant they wouldn’t post it on their public accounts. They would undoubtedly plaster their private accounts with pictures with Yehan, tagging them with things like <#Hongdae #Bleach #LiveClub #GoYehan>.

Then their friends would come flocking to see Yehan, and they would tell their friends, and… before long, this place would be a hotspot swarming with people wanting to see Yehan. Because of people fixated on the word “club” and twisting his words, bad rumors about him could spread.

If things went that way, Haseong would be consumed by guilt. But frustratingly, Yehan readily agreed to the picture.

“Alright. I just so happen to have something I need to ask your band members’ permission for.”

“Permission? For what?”

“Haseong-ssi might be busy with his personal schedule for a while. I thought it would be better to talk to all the members and ask for their understanding so Haseong-ssi can think about it comfortably.”

Haseong perked up at the unexpected mention of himself. If Yehan was going to ask him for a favor, he was ready to accept it with joy without even hearing the details. He owed him so much, he couldn’t even begin to count.

So whatever it was, as long as it was Yehan’s request.

With that resolve, Haseong focused all his attention on Yehan’s lower face. Finally, his jaw, hidden by the mask, moved slowly.

“Do you want to formally learn composition?”

Haseong, who had anticipated a time-consuming request since Yehan had mentioned asking for permission, blinked in surprise. The gentle voice from behind the mask offered not a request, but a suggestion, contrary to his expectations.

And it was an incredibly groundbreaking suggestion. Considering that while Yehan was an actor, his mother was a highly respected composer in the field, it was an offer he couldn’t take lightly.

Despite hearing it directly from Yehan face-to-face, Haseong was so stunned he pointed at himself and asked,

“How, I mean, me?”

“I have a friend named Kim Jinho who’s a composer, and he said he wants to meet you after I told him about you.”

“Kim Jinho, is that…?”

An incredibly influential name popped up. Kim Jinho was a hit composer famous for composing film and drama OSTs.

In particular, Kim Jinho’s songs were often featured in dramas starring Go Yehan. It was possible because of the composer’s talent and connections. No matter how talented you were, you couldn’t survive in this industry without connections.

In any case, thanks to the combination of the talented composer’s songs and the lead actor’s influence, in the years Go Yehan’s dramas aired, it was safe to say Kim Jinho’s OSTs dominated the music charts and karaoke song selections.

It went without saying that an aspiring composer like him, belonging to an unknown indie band, would never even brush shoulders with someone like that. And Yehan was offering to arrange a meeting between him and that person.

“Yes, the composer you know. He seems to be looking for an assistant.”

An assistant? It was tempting, but having heard rumors about the treatment of composition assistants, Haseong hesitated.

It was common to do all sorts of chores without pay, act as an emotional punching bag, and endure power harassment without being properly taught. In the worst-case scenario, working under a truly terrible composer could even result in having your songs stolen….

But aside from such treatment, for someone like Haseong, who was self-taught, without money or education, there were limited options to pursue a professional debut.

Become an assistant to a professional composer, or tirelessly send demos to publishing companies until his song is discovered. The latter had the drawback of not knowing when his song would catch a company’s attention.

‘If I think about the future…’

Kim Jinho was wealthy, so the treatment of his assistant would likely be decent, and above all, it was important that he could learn skills, even indirectly, from a top professional in the field.

It was better to observe a professional composing than to be stuck in a band that didn’t even use his songs, creating music no one would hear.

What should I do? Since it wasn’t a confirmed assistant position, should he at least meet him? No, he definitely had to meet him. If he refused after Kim Jinho himself had asked to meet… that would only be possible if he had no intention of ever debuting professionally.

Alright. Let’s meet first. Meet and then decide. It wasn’t an opportunity that came to just anyone, Haseong realized, rubbing his goosebump-covered wrist.

Instead of pressing for an answer, Yehan firmly grasped Haseong’s fingers. Haseong, lost in thought, was about to open his mouth when Woochan suddenly shoved him from behind and took his place, sneering condescendingly.

“You’re clueless. Assistant composers just get their essence sucked dry and then get tossed aside.”

“I know. Knowing who my mother is, I’m roughly aware of how that world works.”

“…….”

“But Haseong-ssi is my acquaintance… if Jinho isn’t crazy, he won’t do something like that.”

With even Yoo Seojin mentioned, even Woochan couldn’t retort and shut his mouth. Yehan, snaking his hand out, reassured Haseong in a soothing tone.

“It’s not like he’s going to make you an assistant right away. You can refuse if you don’t want to, so relax and just have a meal together. Okay? It’s a chance to network.”

Yehan pulled Haseong’s hand and sat him down next to him, whispering softly, making sure he couldn’t be pushed away again. Haseong fidgeted with his captured hand and slowly raised his head to meet Yehan’s gaze.

“…Can I ask why you’re giving me this opportunity?”

“Because, of course, I want Haseong-ssi to do well.”

Yehan slightly lowered his eyes, as if hurt that he didn’t know. Haseong lowered his head. His stomach tickled for no reason as Yehan’s all-seeing eyes glanced at his earlobe again.

“But even so, this is…. I’m already so grateful to you for getting me this job here, I don’t know how to repay you…”

“Who becomes a fan expecting something in return?”

He chuckled and flicked the ring piercing on his earlobe. Each time he touched the piercing, he subtly pinched the surrounding flesh, causing Haseong to flinch and let out a small moan. Yehan quickly withdrew his hand and gestured to the other members.

“What do you guys think? If Haseong-ssi decides to learn under Jinho, he’ll have less time for the band for a while. Is that okay?”

“We don’t really mind. It’s actually better since we were getting tired of practicing every day….”

“Hey.”

It was Youngjun who nudged Juwon’s side, cautioning him. He kept his mouth shut, frozen like a statue, and glanced at Woochan. Only then did Juwon wisely shut up.

“Hmm, Woochan-ssi isn’t answering. Did I do something to make him uncomfortable again?”

“Well, since he’s the one composing for our band… No, wait. You can meet Kim Jinho with Haseong!”

At Youngjun’s suggestion, which seemed like an attempt at mediation, Yehan narrowed his eyes and shrugged lightly.

“That would be difficult.”

“What? Why…?”

“Jinho wants to meet Haseong-ssi, not Woochan-ssi.”

“…….”

An icy silence followed the playful tone, as if asking why he would even ask such an obvious question. It was a suffocating silence.

Youngjun, who had spoken, was busy gauging Woochan’s reaction, and Woochan gritted his teeth so hard a grinding sound could be heard. Juwon ruffled his hair and muttered, “Ah, we’re fucked…,” which Haseong wholeheartedly agreed with. The atmosphere couldn’t get any worse.

Haseong briefly considered it, looking at Woochan’s bloodshot, red eyes. Should he ask Yehan to let Woochan go too?

But… he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to share this opportunity Yehan had given him with anyone else. This was a chance prepared solely for Yoon Haseong. Only for him, prepared by Yehan, for him.

He wasn’t a saint. He couldn’t be. He wasn’t saintly enough to willingly share an opportunity given solely to him with Woochan, who constantly disregarded him and denied him even the smallest chances.

“…….”

Haseong closed his slightly parted lips and turned his gaze from Woochan back to Yehan. As soon as he did, a gentle hand stroked his hair, like praising a well-trained puppy.

Good boy. He felt as if Yehan’s eyes were whispering those words.

“Then, I’ll consider it confirmed that we’re having dinner together.”

The rustling sound of his hair falling from Yehan’s straight fingers mingled with the thumping of his heart. Haseong slowly nodded, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. As if mirroring his erratic heartbeat, his fingertips trembled slightly.

“Are you nervous? If you’re already like this, I’ll get jealous…”

He quickly curled his fingers to hide the trembling, but Yehan had already noticed. He chuckled and murmured teasingly. Just as Haseong was about to deny it, his phone on the table vibrated loudly.

Manager. Seeing the caller’s name on the screen, Yehan sighed softly and stood up. Haseong stared blankly at his retreating figure, pulling his hat down, when a loud, fake cough erupted around him.

“Ahem! Ehem, ehem!”

“We’re leaving first…? Kim Woochan, you…”

Youngjun and Juwon quickly gathered their belongings. They seemed intent on escaping before the atmosphere worsened.

He desperately wished Woochan would follow them out. As always, his wish didn’t come true.

“Yoon Haseong. Don’t do it. While I’m still being nice.”

“No.”

Haseong quietly defied Woochan, who was simply telling him not to do it.

“If I tell you not to do it, then don’t do it!”

“Then at least tell me why!”

He raised his voice to match the shouting, and like a dam bursting, his airways opened up.

Woochan’s behavior since he met Yehan, as if deliberately trying to make things difficult for him. The constant clinging, restraining, coercing, unfair treatment, and disregard. And the other members’ actions today, as if intent on embarrassing him.

Like a torrent forming as pent-up water finds a broken passage, Haseong’s bottled-up grievances began pouring out.

“Am I your slave? Do I have to do everything you say? And why are you embarrassing me like this?”

“Can’t you feel how cold Go Yehan is being? The way he’s doing all these things for you is just…”

“Stop badmouthing innocent people and tell me clearly why you’re against it.”

“Why? Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you? You tell me. All you’re thinking about is quitting the band, isn’t it? Will you even have time if you’re learning composition too?”

“I can make time. And frankly, do we even practice together?”

Haseong glared at Youngjun and Juwon, who were standing there like scarecrows, fuming.

They were acting like they would turn the practice room into a motel if left alone, yet it was unfair for them to talk about time when they didn’t stop them.

“What kind of practice is it if we just sit around on our phones and then leave? I want to be in a band! I want to stand on stage with you guys, playing my songs, and see fans cheering for our performance!”

But even as he poured out his bottled-up feelings, he vaguely knew. That such a day would never come.

“But did you guys ever give me that chance? No. You just treated me like a bass-playing errand boy.”

“Ha, this bastard really…. So what? Are you protesting now? Because we didn’t use your songs?”

“…If this looks like a protest to you, then I have nothing more to say to you.”

Was this what it felt like to be completely drained? Seeing Woochan dismiss his protest as a childish complaint, he realized it would be a waste of time to say anything more. Haseong bit his lower lip, feeling a surge of helplessness.

“This is your last warning. Don’t do it. While I’m still being nice, cut ties with Go Yehan and quit this place.”

“No. And don’t badmouth Yehan-hyung.”

“Are you under some kind of spell? Haven’t you seen the rumors about his messy private life?”

“It’s stranger to believe those rumors. And honestly…!”

If he said this, it would really be over. He shouldn’t. Even for the sake of the past 15 years…. His trembling lips hesitated, then slowly parted.

“If Yehan-hyung had suggested that you meet composer Kim Jinho, you would have met him too…”

Ah, it’s over.

He felt both empty and relieved, knowing the inevitable outcome. Haseong mumbled incoherently, like someone in a daze. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Woochan’s face.

“You wouldn’t have even thought to take me along…”

“…….”

“You’re just doing this because you don’t want to see me succeed!”

He finally吐露ed out the suspicion that bordered on certainty he had harbored.

The distorted expression Woochan had made when he first proudly played him his finished composition. The way his attitude had changed little by little after that, like misaligned gears. The certainty that had instinctively come to him when their relationship became completely twisted.

At the same time, a sharp cracking sound echoed as his head was jerked to the right. The bitter taste of blood on his lips snapped the last thread of Haseong’s rationality.

As Haseong punched Woochan’s cheek in return, Woochan pinned him down. Another blow landed immediately. It hurt like hell, probably because of the numerous rings on Woochan’s fingers acting as knuckles. His earlobe ripped as a piercing caught on a ring was torn away, and blood gushed from his split lip and down his throat.

Haseong, forgetting that Woochan was his hyung, threw another punch and then grabbed Woochan’s arm, which was pulling him up by the collar, flinging him aside. Woochan’s body flew and rolled a few times after colliding with a table leg.

A glass on the table Woochan had crashed into fell beside him with a sharp shattering sound. The shards grazed his skin, leaving long, vertical cuts. Haseong sat up and spat out bloody saliva.

When he came to his senses, Youngjun, Juwon, the customers at the surrounding tables, Hyeongseok, Miyeon, and even Yehan, who had left, were surrounding them, desperately trying to separate them.

Haseong wiped the blood off his face with his shirt and turned around without hesitation. Woochan, supported by Juwon, yelled at Haseong’s back.

“Fuck, Yoon Haseong! I warned you! If you don’t listen to me this time, it’s over. Over!”

As if he didn’t know it was already over. Haseong kicked the scattered piercing on the floor and didn’t look back.

💜

After washing the blood off his face in the bathroom, Haseong looked at his reflection in the mirror and chuckled dryly.

Bruised eyes, lips that continued to bleed no matter how much he wiped them, a lingering nosebleed stain despite his attempts to clean it, and cheekbones swollen like a boxer after a sparring match.

Most of all, blood still dripped from his earlobe, which was torn and bloody from the ripped-out piercing. Only the piercings on his earlobe and outer conch remained, dangling precariously. Disgusted by the sight, Haseong ripped them out, digging into his torn flesh.

Clang. He tossed the bloody piercings into the sink, and the running water gradually turned pink, swirling down the drain. Haseong picked up Woochan’s last gift and threw it in the trash.

‘Should I… go to the hospital?’

He had to do something about his ear… but he had no money. The only place open at this hour was the emergency room, and with this kind of injury, they would definitely want to stitch it up. Haseong hesitated, knowing he didn’t have health insurance.

“Haseong-ssi.”

The bathroom door burst open, and Yehan appeared, holding a first-aid kit, leaning against the doorframe and beckoning him.

“Come out if you’re done washing up. Let’s do some first aid and go straight to the hospital.”

“Ah, I…”

Haseong quickly covered his face with his arm. He was embarrassed by his swollen, multicolored face.

“I’m fine. Just give me the first-aid kit, and I’ll do it myself.”

“Stop saying you’re fine. What’s fine about this?”

“…….”

At the icy tone, Haseong’s hand, reaching out to take the first-aid kit, froze in midair. With his head lowered, he could only see Yehan placing the kit on the shelf and crossing his arms, instead of handing it to him.

The slightly exasperated, incomprehending tone made Haseong shrink further. He held back his words, having a hunch about Yehan’s sudden coldness.

He was well aware that his appearance and occupation weren’t particularly impressive. At twenty-two, most people were in college or the military, while he was a so-called musician.

On top of his unkempt appearance, he hung around with equally rough-looking band members… who had been incredibly rude to Yehan, who was much older than them. And as if that wasn’t enough, he had just shown him the spectacle of them fighting. It wouldn’t be surprising if Yehan considered him an uneducated thug.

…He was uneducated, and he was often called a thug. He had nothing to say if Yehan saw him that way.

“Ha…. Let me see your face. Why are you hiding it again?”

The black sneakers approaching on the white tile floor felt more out of place than ever. No matter what he wore or where he was, he didn’t belong in the places Haseong frequented. Not the dirty back alleys, the noisy club, or the cramped bathroom.

Unlike Haseong, to whom such places felt as natural as home, Yehan belonged on brightly lit sets, rooftops of buildings with stunning night views, or red carpets with flashing cameras.

Newly realizing the stark contrast between them, Haseong desperately turned his head and mumbled incoherently,

“…I look really… ugly right now…”

“…….”

Yehan, who had been approaching, stopped abruptly. Haseong wiped his chin, which had become slippery with fresh blood, and continued,

“…and I’m embarrassed that you saw me fighting…”

He felt a lump in his throat. It was his first time getting into a fistfight in a public place like this, and despite others calling it a frivolous pursuit, he had dedicated himself to it, even sacrificing sleep.

His looks were beyond his control, and his lack of education… was his own fault for neglecting his studies, but he still felt a bit wronged.

It couldn’t be helped if Yehan misunderstood him, but he didn’t want Yehan, of all people, to misunderstand him. Was it because he was his first fan? Or because he didn’t want to lose his kindness, the way he whispered sweet nothings and offered him various favors?

Or was it just… despite him being difficult to approach, sometimes so strange it felt unsettling… that he had come to like Go Yehan as a person? Whatever it was, he wanted to explain that it wasn’t what it seemed. Haseong forced his stinging lips to move.

“I was worried you might misunderstand…. This is my first time getting into a fistfight like this…”

“What misunderstanding? Are you worried I’ll think you’re some kind of lowlife thug?”

“…….”

Yehan guessed correctly before he could even finish. Haseong just nodded, his face still buried in his arm. Even though he knew Yehan was standing close by, he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head.

Haseong swallowed dryly and glanced at the floor. The tip of Yehan’s shoe was pointed at him, unmoving.

Finally, a soft murmur, like a sigh, reached him.

“…This is ridiculous.”

“Ugh…!”

At the same time, his torn earlobe was pinched. The sudden, sharp pain made him curl his toes and reflexively lift his head.

Beyond his blurry vision, stinging from the bruises around his eyes and swollen cheekbones, was Yehan, smiling brightly. He wondered if it was the same person who had been so cold just a moment ago. He reached out with blood-stained fingers and cupped Haseong’s bruised cheek, whispering,

“You’re beautiful.”

“What?”

He was about to ask how he could possibly look beautiful in this state when he froze. The moment he realized Yehan’s face was too close, soft lips touched his other, relatively unharmed ear and then pulled away before he could react.

Haseong stared at Yehan, forgetting to even blink. His beautiful lips, smeared with blood, were incredibly seductive. He was so dazed he didn’t even register that it was his own blood.

After the brief kiss, Yehan licked his blood-stained lips and smiled.

“You took out the rest of your piercings? Good boy.”

“…….”

“They didn’t suit you. The piercings, and that band.”

He chuckled, seemingly satisfied, and caressed his less injured earlobe, the spot where Haseong had ripped out the dangling piercing. But whether the wound was deep or shallow, it hurt all the same when touched.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the sharp pain, then, coming back to his senses, he cautiously backed away. It was just a kiss on the ear. A light peck, like kissing a cute puppy. But still… this was… strange.

“W-why did you…”

“Did you not like it?”

At his probing question, Haseong finally considered his feelings.

Did he dislike it?

…He wasn’t sure.

To be precise, he was so dazed he couldn’t even tell if he liked it or not. And it was still the same now.

“No, it’s just… so sudden…”

It should feel awkward to be suddenly kissed by another man, but his mind, foggy as if shrouded in mist, refused to work. His thought process stuttered and stopped after the ambiguous “I don’t know.”

His subsequent actions were simple. He covered his ear, which stung even at the slightest touch, brushed off Yehan’s hand, and backed away.

His back hit the cold tile wall after only a few steps. Trapped in the small space with nowhere left to retreat, Haseong tensed up.

“Because you’re beautiful. And cute.”

The playful voice stirred Haseong’s already heated mind. Yehan closed the distance Haseong had desperately created in a single step and cupped his chin. His face was pulled forward, and lips pressed down on the cut on his lip, which had started to scab over.

This time, the kiss was much longer than the peck on his ear. Haseong clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms as Yehan’s wet tongue licked the cut on his lip. Sweat seeped from his clenched hands.

He knew he should pull away, but his body wouldn’t obey. He couldn’t escape anyway. The wall was behind him, and Yehan was in front. He couldn’t even turn his head slightly because Yehan’s hand was firmly gripping his bruised cheek.

“Ugh…!”

His stubbornly closed lips parted as his front teeth nipped at the wound. A tongue slipped through the gap, wreaking havoc inside his torn mouth. Everywhere Yehan touched – the tender flesh inside his mouth, his split lip, his swollen, warm cheek – stung and ached.

Yehan didn’t seem to mind that his mouth must now be filled with the taste of blood. His eyes, a subtle shade between brown and black, sparkled like ashen stars.

This is strange.

Yehan, suddenly kissing him with an amused smile, himself, who didn’t feel any aversion, and this situation, kissing a man in a bathroom. Everything was strange.

The sound of sucking tongues mingled with the dripping faucet, filling the humid air with a strange intimacy. Haseong gasped, anxiously glancing at the bathroom door, which could open at any moment.

What if someone came in…? He felt uneasy kissing in plain sight of the door. But every time his attention drifted towards the door, the tongue ravaging his mouth pulled it back. Despite not being his first kiss, it was so skillful and insistent that he was left speechless and flustered.

The way Yehan nibbled his split lip with his teeth, the way he instantly caught and sucked on his tongue whenever he stuck it out slightly to moan – it was driving him crazy. And when he gasped, unable to catch his breath, Yehan would give him a moment’s respite before tilting his head again and pressing their lips together.

Haseong closed his eyes, unable to meet Yehan’s languid gaze. Finally, when his legs felt weak and shaky, Yehan pulled away.

“Hah…”

“See? You moan every time we touch. And you say you’re fine.”

Yehan deliberately grazed the wound on his lip as he pulled away, then wrapped his arms around Haseong’s waist, as if nothing had happened.

“Now, let’s disinfect this and go to the hospital. Don’t be stubborn.”

Haseong was led to the staff room and seated on a chair. Yehan carefully dabbed the wound with an antiseptic wipe, even blowing on it gently. It stung, but it wasn’t unbearable.

After finishing the treatment by meticulously applying bandages to even the smallest cuts, Yehan rattled the first-aid kit as he tidied it up. Haseong stared at his white fingers closing the kit, dried blood clinging to the tips. Finally, his churning throat produced a sound.

“Hyung, why did you… earlier…”

“I wonder why I did that.”

Click. He placed the first-aid kit back in its place, returned, and sat down, putting his arm around Haseong’s shoulder. His handsome face loomed close again, just like during the kiss.

“I just did it because you were cute and beautiful… why didn’t Haseong-ssi push me away?”

Yehan’s fingers grazed his chin as he asked. Haseong remained silent, accepting the touch. He couldn’t figure out the reason no matter how much he thought about it.

“Don’t you know?”

“…No.”

“Then think about it slowly and tell me later.”

“That seems… a bit unfair.”

Yehan’s reason didn’t make sense either. How could he kiss another man just because he was cute and beautiful? And he had to think hard and give a proper answer, while Yehan considered this a sufficient explanation.

As soon as Haseong’s timid protest ended, lips pressed against his chin.

“That’s why I say you’re cute and beautiful.”

Things seemed to be getting seriously complicated, and he didn’t know where to start unraveling them, or where things had gone wrong. Haseong nervously bounced his leg, his chin tucked down where Yehan’s lips had touched.

“And next time we meet, I hope Haseong-ssi has made up his mind. About what to do with the band.”

“I’m definitely planning to leave the band.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It was over the moment we started hitting each other…”

“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard from you in a while.”

Was it just his imagination that his voice sounded particularly cheerful? The way he exhaled, like blowing out cigarette smoke, as he undid the top button of his shirt, told him it wasn’t just his imagination.

“Honestly, I was getting a bit frustrated. Wondering why someone like Haseong-ssi would put up with that.”

It must have been very… frustrating to watch. Unable to smoke indoors, he repeatedly opened and closed his cigarette case, revealing his true feelings. He crushed the cigarette filter between his fingers and continued.

“Why would someone so handsome, who plays the bass so well, and is so diligent in both studies and work…”

“…….”

“…and is even cute, beautiful, and kind…”

“…You’re teasing me.”

“I’m serious.”

Unable to endure the increasingly outrageous compliments, Haseong protested. But Yehan just responded with a playful smile.

“I told you before, didn’t I? That people like Haseong-ssi are rare. Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“Haseong-ssi needs to understand your worth. You need to know how precious someone who catches my eye is.”

His lips curved into a crescent moon shape, like a crescent moon reflected on a lake. Perhaps because of that, Haseong’s eyes suddenly welled up, as if someone had thrown a stone into the still surface of a lake.

Pressing down on his churning chest, Haseong cautiously voiced his question. He felt as if his heart would jump out of his chest if he didn’t.

“I… I don’t understand why you’re being so kind to me. It’s hard to understand just because I’m a fan…”

“I wonder why.”

The smile that had momentarily disappeared returned to his face, as if painted on. The fleeting hint of displeasure in his expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“This is something else Haseong-ssi can ponder.”

But having witnessed that fleeting moment, Haseong instinctively knew. That the day he truly understood this man’s intentions would never come.