“How disappointing.”
Eden thought. His prediction had been right on target. Disappointing him felt no different from being punished.
As for the reason—no comment. He didn’t even know it himself, so there was nothing he could say.
If someone asked whether he was afraid of being punished, he would answer no. Though he couldn’t guarantee he’d always feel that way.
“That’s too bad. If you’d told me earlier, I would’ve gone with Richard Kim or Sam Cooper.”
“Where did those names even come from?”
Eden held up his book. They were the names of the villain who tormented the protagonist and the nameless lackey serving under him. He’d just happened to be reading the part where the two of them were scheming together, so the names came to mind.
“When you finish that, lend it to me.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re the type who can tolerate boredom.”
“It’s fine. I won’t read it anyway. I just need an excuse to see you.”
Somerset showed remarkable enthusiasm for strengthening their friendship. In contrast to his aggressiveness, Eden refused to lower his guard. One aimed while the other blocked—spear and shield facing each other.
“I have no intention of encouraging your insincere reading habits.”
“You just need to have the intention of hanging out with me.”
“I don’t particularly have that intention either……”
“I’ll politely ignore any differing opinions.”
“I don’t think you know what ‘polite’ means.”
“What you don’t know can’t hurt you, Eden.”
Eden was the first to stop talking because he didn’t dislike hearing his name spoken through Somerset’s lips.
And that fact made him uncomfortable.
The man next door was strange. He trespassed recklessly into other people’s territory and drew attention indiscriminately, yet somehow he wasn’t unpleasant. Even his foolhardy tendency to bombard strangers with interest became charming. The reason Eden was still standing outside despite the early summer heat was entirely because of Somerset.
Because of the power he possessed.
Eden recalled the things Somerset had said during their first meeting.
‘You make people want to talk to you. That’s just the kind of face you have.’
‘The moment you catch someone’s eye, there’s no way you could ever be ignored.’
‘Your eyes are pretty. Your pupils are pretty, so it feels good looking at you.’
If he had been the sort of honest person who liked rambling, he would have returned the same words. Somerset Quinn looked like someone people wanted to approach, someone who could never be overlooked, someone with beautiful eyes. His softly rounded amber irises naturally drew eye contact. Wearing a fresh smile, he said,
“You hot? Your face is a little red. Want to come in? How about a cup of coffee?”
Without question, he was probably someone who had rarely been rejected in his life. Eden joined the ranks of those few inevitable experiences.
“I’m pretty sure I already refused that.”
“Today could be different. Do you still suspect I might seduce you and murder you?”
Remembering what Eden had said last time, Somerset called for a servant.
“Emma. Come over here and tell him I’m not a murderer.”
Despite receiving such an absurd request, the servant didn’t seem surprised. A middle-aged woman soon leaned her head out the window and willingly became a witness.
“Somerset Quinn is not a murderer. I swear it.”
“Emma’s a devoted churchgoer who goes every single day. There’s no way you can doubt her.”
Somerset lifted his chin proudly while praising Emma, and Emma widened her eyes as if trying to appear trustworthy in accordance with his words. Together they looked like a team of con artists.
“I see.”
Eden responded appropriately so Emma’s efforts wouldn’t go to waste as she strained hard enough to smooth every wrinkle around her eyes, while simultaneously sweeping Somerset with a distrustful gaze. Though his cheerful atmosphere quickly dulled the sharpness in Eden’s eyes.
Emma turned back and quietly asked Somerset,
“How did you end up being misunderstood in such a terrible way?”
“It’s because I’m too charming.”
She wasn’t the only one who burst out laughing at his shameless attitude. Eden hurriedly covered his twitching lips with his hand.
This was bad. He was losing confidence in his ability not to get swept up by that strange guy.
Unfortunately, his bad feeling proved correct. That night, Eden slept poorly. Somerset Quinn invaded his thoughts, shirt collar fluttering, and every moment he’d spent facing him unfolded like a panorama. He dissected each scene, retracing every expression, tone, glance, and gesture while sinking into thought.
The man who spoke to him familiarly. The voice that poured out lines straight from dramas or movies. The bright smile. The heat lingering in amber eyes. The depth of his honesty. The lively atmosphere around him.
Thoughts rooted in memory soon turned into imagination. The man calling him by the properly given name Eden instead of Alex Howard. What if he approached him first and called him Somerset? What might happen if they smiled at each other over the palm with the emoji drawn on it?
His imagination eventually developed into him running out in the middle of the night and knocking on the neighbor’s door, at which point he abruptly sat upright. He hadn’t managed to catch even scraps of sleep, yet his mind felt hazy.
As if he’d been hypnotized.
He sighed, ruffling the limp hair that had fallen over him. The breath that swept across his teeth and palate felt stale. Right now, he’d probably accept that invitation to come in for coffee.
He only managed to fall asleep near dawn. And then he dreamed about Somerset.
In the dream, Somerset really was a murderer. A man who lured people into his home with a seductive smile and killed them.
Dream-Eden was completely taken in by him and stepped into his horrifying castle of slaughter. The coffee Somerset offered had been drugged. After obediently drinking it, the scene changed.
He was lying down.
With his head resting on Somerset’s lap.
Murderer Somerset looked down at Eden with a magnificent smile. Warmth filled his eyes as he spoke.
‘Your crime is lying. You deceived me by calling yourself Alex Howard, didn’t you?’
Eden fidgeted with the hands folded over his chest. He’d been given a chance to defend himself.
‘You said you could forgive one lie.’
But he couldn’t escape punishment. Somerset pointed out Eden’s lie with visible disappointment.
‘You’re attracted to me. There’s no use pretending otherwise.’
Giving up on arguing back, Eden admitted his crime. Somerset grinned mischievously, helped him sit up, then aimed a gun barrel at him.
Bang!
The sharp gunshot borrowed from the beginning of his memories rang out, and his body lurched. Like a diplomat meeting tragedy before a child’s eyes, Eden died with the bullet piercing straight through his head.
It wasn’t a nightmare.
When he woke from the dream, he felt so refreshed it was as if he’d been reborn.
***
Whenever he left the house, he found himself checking next door first. Would Somerset be leaning against the first-floor window again today? Would he brush back his glossy curls and smile brightly? He’d probably greet him with a cheerful “Hi.”
When his expectation proved wrong, he felt disappointed.
Disappointment was only possible because there had been anticipation.
Had he been anticipating it? Why?
That was when the question began taking concrete shape.
Just as he swallowed down his disappointment while staring at the closed window, he ran into Somerset returning from an early morning jog. Wiping the sweat running beneath his jaw with the back of his hand, Somerset stretched his lips into a grin.
“If I didn’t see wrong just now, it looked like you were looking for me.”
He’d been completely caught craning his neck and peeking around someone else’s house. Embarrassment heated Eden’s face as he touched it. He thought of dream-Somerset the murderer. If that Somerset saw him now, he would probably count up his lies while pressing the gun barrel to his temple.
“You saw wrong……”
“I don’t think so. My eyesight’s incredibly good. My instincts are excellent too.”
With complete confidence, Somerset strode toward him. He moved as if he were about to hug him, then suddenly stepped back and lifted his T-shirt.
Sniff.
He smelled himself.
His bronzed skin glistened with moisture. Sweat from the heat. Even the abs faintly revealed beneath the raised shirt looked damp.
“I don’t smell terrible. Still, just in case, I should wash up.”
Muttering to himself, he jerked his head toward the house.
“Want to come in and wait?”
Of course, the answer was already decided. The brief hesitation came from his mouth trying to rebel against the command. He barely managed to suppress it before refusing.
“No.”
“I got rejected again? I thought today would be different.”
Somerset only looked slightly disappointed, not discouraged. That was fortunate. If he’d pouted or asked one more time with lingering reluctance, Eden would’ve wavered.
After saying he’d be going first, Eden passed by Somerset. He walked confidently, but in truth he had no destination. The outing had been aimless from the start.
His slowing steps almost got him caught.
“When are you coming back? I’ll be in my reserved seat waiting for you.”
The voice from behind him was like sticky glue. If he’d been some small bird or insect, he would never have escaped. Eden faltered briefly before continuing forward again.
“I don’t know.”
When he didn’t even know where he was going, how could he know when he’d return? The world was full of unpredictable things.
Like how he never imagined he’d soon accept Somerset’s invitation.
It happened a few days later. Drinking together the previous evening had been the problem. An incident occurred on the way home after drinking at a terrible beer joint. He’d ultimately been conquered by Somerset spouting nonsense about persistence being a man’s destiny.
More precisely, the tide turned against him when Somerset asked whether he dreamed often.
Not usually. It’s only become frequent recently. And you’re always in them.
Unable to confess honestly, Eden dodged questions about whether he’d dreamed the night before and what kind of dream it had been, only to get swept along in the end.
So did he regret it?
If he examined his feelings honestly, no. Truthfully, he’d felt unsettled yesterday, but now that the moment had arrived, he didn’t anymore.
After going all the way to the front door and then returning to his room twice to change clothes, Henry—who had been watching from the living room—asked,
“Is something going on?”
Even Eden himself knew he was acting strange, so to someone as perceptive as Henry, he must have looked even more suspicious. Especially since Henry had just returned after being away from home for several days, leaving his senses sharpened to an extreme degree.
There was an unfamiliar wound on the hand Henry used to adjust his glasses. Pretending not to notice it, Eden shrugged.
“No. Nothing’s going on. Just like with you, Father.”
He abruptly calmed down, stopped checking the mirror, and left the house. The stiff muscles in his face loosened almost immediately. It was because he spotted Somerset wandering around outside waiting for him early.
“Hi!”
The greeting felt brighter than usual, and his mood improved instantly. Wearing a faint smile, Eden walked toward him.
“How long have you been waiting?”
“About three minutes.”
“There’s sweat on your forehead.”
“Actually, ten minutes? But not longer than that. I was standing in the shade over there, so it wasn’t too hot.”
Somerset swept a hand from his forehead, pushing back his bangs. With his entire face exposed, his uniquely wild charm stood out more strongly. The rich atmosphere that made onlookers dizzy soon softened beneath his innocent smile.
Smiling vividly, he studied Eden’s expression.
“You look happy. Excited that you finally decided to visit Quinn Castle?”
“As if.”
“No use denying it. Your lips are practically up to here.”
The spot Somerset pointed to on his own face was close to the cheekbone. No matter how widely someone smiled, it’d be hard for the corners of their mouth to reach that high. While recoiling at the exaggeration, Eden only then realized he actually had been smiling.
Belatedly controlling his expression, he followed Somerset.
The house Somerset introduced as Quinn Castle was a five-story building that looked as pristine as if it had been built yesterday while still carrying the weight of long history. The parking area and garden were located behind it. Just as its glossy exterior represented New York’s wealthy neighborhoods, the heavy front doors suggested the interior must be equally lavish.
As soon as they stepped inside, two uniformed servants greeted them. After introducing Eden as a friend, Somerset crossed through the foyer.
