Chapter 55
“Do we need to prepare this many suppressants?”
“You never know what might happen.”
“Are you worried I might cause some trouble?”
Si-yul meant it as a light joke. However, Yuwon paused and stared at Si-yul’s grinning face. His gaze was fierce, and the orange-scented pheromones he had been consciously hiding now had a sharp edge to them.
“I’m sorry.”
Not knowing exactly what had offended him, Si-yul immediately apologized, dropping to his knees. Yuwon let out a heavy sigh and stuffed a jelly into Si-yul’s mouth.
“They say the chances of pregnancy for a recessive are almost zero… No, we shouldn’t even create the opportunity. I told you, don’t meet alphas. If you don’t meet them, there won’t be any problems.”
“Then why the suppressants?”
“Because when your heat comes, you might lose your mind. You could end up in situations you don’t want.”
There was deep concern in the eyes looking at Si-yul. He tried to reassure Yuwon that he didn’t need to worry, that he’d handle things well, but Yuwon waved his hand and changed the subject.
“Stop with the useless talk and let’s practice controlling your pheromones. They’re leaking again.”
“You’re going to be by my side all the time now, so why are you teaching me so intensely? No one’s chasing us, let’s take it slow. I’m dying of sleepiness.”
“Where’s the time for that? Hey, again, again! Focus!”
The shouting completely drove away Si-yul’s sleepiness. Despite pleas from the next room to let them sleep, Yuwon, with bloodshot eyes, kept drilling Si-yul.
And in the morning, Yuwon was gone. He left only text messages before disappearing again. It was like going off the grid without really going off the grid.
Yuwon left three messages in total. He was sorry, he’d keep in touch occasionally, and not to worry. Si-yul couldn’t help feeling hurt and disappointed. Even though he’d been an adult for a while now, it felt like Yuwon still didn’t trust him.
Si-yul rubbed his puffy eyes as he looked at the messages, then dropped his arms with a thud. No wonder Yuwon had been so strict about even small mistakes – there was a reason for it all. Leaving without even saying goodbye or wishing him well, Si-yul grumbled about how heartless it was, but worry took precedence.
‘I won’t do anything more to make you sorry. So…’
When Si-yul was on the boundary between sleep and wakefulness, Yuwon, lying with his back turned, had mumbled. There was firm resolve in his voice. Si-yul wanted to ask what he meant, but having just crossed from reality into the world of sleep, the question only swirled in his mouth before fading away.
But there wasn’t much time to sulk. Si-yul looked at his phone and jumped up in a hurry. The numbers on the screen indicated it was already well into lunchtime. If he dawdled even five more minutes, he’d definitely be late.
As Yuwon had advised, Si-yul didn’t mention at work that he had manifested. Everyone except him was beta anyway. Worried that customers might notice, he worked hard to control his pheromones. Fortunately, his efforts paid off, and no one asked if he smelled strange or if he was an omega. It seemed the night of harsh training from Yuwon had been worth it.
“Oh.”
It felt like he ran into Woo Tae-joo every time he took out the trash. Tae-joo had given up on piano and switched to guitar. It was more popular. According to the manager, sometimes there were mistakes with the piano, but not with the guitar.
Tae-joo boasted about receiving a scout offer from a famous band after getting praised. Then he whispered to Si-yul, “Just as a guest member though,” and giggled mischievously.
When their eyes met, Tae-joo quickly dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his sneaker. As he bent down to pick up the butt, Si-yul held out his hand, saying he might as well take it since he was holding a trash bag. Tae-joo startled and shook his head and hands vigorously.
“You can just throw it away here… Give it to me.”
“No, I’ll take care of it myself.”
“It’s just one cigarette butt, come on.”
Si-yul calmly took the butt from Tae-joo’s hand and stuffed it into a gap in the bag. Tae-joo, who had been watching from the side, seemingly feeling guilty about something, snatched the bag from Si-yul’s hand. He let out a short shout and threw the bag into the trash can. The large lump, bigger than Si-yul’s upper body, arced through the air before landing inside with a thud.
Si-yul was secretly impressed. Tae-joo was strong. Perhaps because of the difference in build between them, even though they were both men, Si-yul would have had to stand on tiptoes and struggle to throw it away, but Tae-joo did it like he was tossing a basketball.
“Thank you.”
Si-yul bowed his head in gratitude, but Tae-joo waved his hand, saying there was no need to thank him for such a small thing. As Si-yul turned to go back inside, Tae-joo called out, “Hey,” stopping him. He hesitated, scratching the back of his head as if he wanted to say something, and only spoke when Si-yul tilted his head questioningly.
“Hyung, do you like performances?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been to one.”
“Then would you like to go see one with me?”
Si-yul stared at Tae-joo. Although he had said they could be friends, Tae-joo had confessed to him before. Wondering if he hadn’t given up and was asking for a date, Si-yul’s expression turned serious.
“No, it’s not a date request! My cousin plays the violin. She’s having a concert and gave me tickets. She gave me two, but I don’t have anyone to go with…”
Realizing his thoughts must have been clearly visible on his face, Tae-joo hurriedly denied it. He then rattled off reasons like a machine gun, clearly not wanting to burden Si-yul.
“A violin solo concert?”
“Yes. It’s just like Hye-na playing piano here. We just go, listen to the performance, and come back.”
“When is it?”
“The third Wednesday of this month. I think that’s your day off, right?”
When did he learn Si-yul’s days off? Tae-joo stared at Si-yul’s lips, as if desperately hoping for approval to come from them.
It was still early in the month, but he was giving plenty of advance notice. Of course, Si-yul had no set plans. He’d probably be lounging at home alone while Woo Hyun-se was at work. Still, he hesitated to agree right away, remembering Tae-joo’s confession. He didn’t want to give false hope if he had no intention of reciprocating those feelings.
“My cousin said if I don’t come, the audience will be empty, and told me to bring a friend too. You know how it feels when there’s no one there while you’re performing, it takes the wind out of your sails. It makes you wonder why you’re even playing. Having people to listen makes playing guitar worthwhile. I’m sure Ji-hye noona feels the same…”
Tae-joo trailed off, looking down with a bitter expression. Si-yul had thought it would be better to refuse, but imagining Tae-joo’s unknown cousin playing alone to an empty hall made him waver. Surely at least one person would come, but wouldn’t she be disheartened if she saw empty seats?
On the other hand, it occurred to Si-yul that Tae-joo might have no ulterior motives and might have genuinely moved on, simply trying to use up the extra ticket. His worries might just be unnecessary old-fashioned concerns.
“I’ll go.”
If that was the case, there was no need to refuse. When Si-yul nodded willingly, Tae-joo’s face lit up brightly. He was like a street lamp shining alone in a dark alley. Beaming, he grabbed Si-yul’s hand, then realized a beat later and pulled away as if burned. Still seeming regretful, he clenched and unclenched his fist behind his back.
“Really? You’ll come with me? No taking it back or canceling, hyung.”
“You said it’s my day off anyway. There’s no reason not to go… If the audience is empty, she’ll be disappointed, right? We should help fill the seats.”
When Si-yul grinned, Tae-joo’s eyes wavered for a moment. He closed them tightly, then opened them and curved his lips into a smile. His lower lip seemed to tremble slightly, but it was probably just an illusion created by the darkness.
“Aren’t you going in? It’s cold today.”
“Ah, yes, we should. Let’s go together, hyung.”
Tae-joo stuck close behind Si-yul. Stamping his feet from the cold, he reached his long arm over Si-yul’s shoulder to open the door himself. Such kindness wasn’t necessary. Si-yul looked up at him, but Tae-joo just smiled innocently, as if there wasn’t a hint of ulterior motive in anything he did.
* * *
[Yuwon is back]
[I’m going back to my place]
“…”
He stared at the text messages intently. As if doing so would make a new message appear or the letters would rearrange themselves into a different sentence. No matter how hard he glared, the words didn’t change, and no new messages came.
More than anything else, Woo Hyun-se found the word “my place” particularly irritating. Calling that tiny hostel room “my place.” It seemed the place they had been living together until now wasn’t Si-yul’s “place.”
How cold-hearted.
He tossed the phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. It creaked as it tilted too far back. Feeling a suffocating tightness around his neck, he fumbled with his collar, but he had already removed his tie and stuffed it in a drawer before even entering the office.
Still feeling choked, he unnecessarily undid one more button. His firm chest was inappropriately exposed, but he was alone in the office anyway. Even if someone else had been there, he probably wouldn’t have cared.
He flung the window wide open. Even as the frigid winter wind filled the office, the heat rising in his body didn’t subside. Having experienced this for half his life, he knew all too well what this was a sign of, without needing anyone to tell him.
