Chapter 72
Despite his earlier concerns about an empty audience, the lobby of the concert hall was bustling with people. Some even held bouquets, suggesting a welcoming and celebratory concert. Several shrub-sized ornamental wreaths adorned the firmly closed entrance to the hall.
“Didn’t you say there wouldn’t be many people?” Si-yul asked.
“Looks like my sister expanded her reach in the meantime,” Tae-joo whispered, leaning towards Si-yul with his hand cupped around his mouth. It was clearly a joke, making Si-yul chuckle.
“Should we have prepared a bouquet too? I saw a flower shop earlier,” Si-yul wondered. Wasn’t she Tae-joo’s cousin? He wasn’t sure if it was okay to come empty-handed. He considered buying a small bouquet.
“Of course, I sent one in advance,” Tae-joo said, pointing to one of the wreaths. The long ribbon attached to it read ‘Violin Goddess Woo Ji-hye’.
“I’ll buy a bouquet before the concert starts,” Si-yul offered.
“You don’t need to. I sent one on your behalf too,” Tae-joo assured him.
Si-yul had researched concert etiquette but hadn’t come across anything about bouquets. Figuring Tae-joo would know better, having attended more concerts, Si-yul took note of the wreath Tae-joo had sent.
The large doors that had been firmly closed began to open, signaling the imminent start of the performance. People started filing in one by one. As Si-yul moved to join them, Tae-joo grabbed his wrist and pulled him in a different direction.
“Isn’t it that way?” Si-yul asked, confused.
“We’re on the second floor. VIP seats,” Tae-joo explained.
It seemed they had been given good seats due to their connection. Si-yul followed Tae-joo up to the second floor. Inside, they found a space with only two chairs.
It was a box seat, something Si-yul had only seen in movies. He was surprised to find such seating at a concert. Placing his hands on the railing, he looked around. Despite being on the second floor, they were close enough to the stage that they might even be able to see the performer’s sheet music.
“These are great seats,” Si-yul remarked.
“Right? I begged my sister for the best seats. Do you like it?” Tae-joo asked.
While this was Si-yul’s first experience of its kind, making it hard to judge, he could tell this was a prime location.
“Thank you. It’s a new experience for me,” Si-yul said gratefully.
Tae-joo’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected the thanks, then he burst into laughter. He stretched out his arms as if about to hug Si-yul but flinched and ended up just scratching the back of his head.
“It’s about to start. Come here, hyung,” Hyun-se said, patting the seat next to him.
Si-yul quickly sat down. The cushion was as soft as a bed, and the lighting focused on the stage, leaving their seats in a gentle, sleep-inducing glow. Si-yul worried about falling asleep, already feeling his eyelids getting heavy.
He sat up straight, focusing on the stage. A woman in a blue dress similar to the tie Si-yul had chosen for Hyun-se that morning entered with her group, met by thunderous applause. As the bow slowly glided across the strings, Si-yul’s gaze began to blur.
The sound of applause woke Si-yul. He found himself deeply sunken into his chair. The bright lights made him blink, and he turned his head towards a blurry figure in his vision.
“Hyung, the performance is over,” Tae-joo said.
“Huh… what?” Si-yul mumbled, sitting up. The stage was already empty, and the people who had filled the seats on the first floor were leaving. He had managed to fight off sleep until the intermission, digging his nails into his palms, but from the start of the second half, everything had gone dark as if someone had cut the power.
Good lord. He had slept. Slept soundly. So much so that he felt completely refreshed. Si-yul rubbed his face repeatedly, groaning. What a way to show his lack of culture. His ears burned with shame at revealing his lack of refinement. He felt terrible that Tae-joo had given him such a good seat with a clear view of the stage.
“You must have been very tired,” Tae-joo said, patting Si-yul’s shoulder as he squirmed in embarrassment. Si-yul looked up at him with a deeply troubled expression.
“I’m sorry. You brought me all the way here, and I just fell asleep,” Si-yul apologized.
“It’s my sister’s fault for choosing the wrong pieces. She should have played something lively instead of all those drowsy tunes. I fell asleep too, snoozing on your shoulder,” Tae-joo said with a gentle smile, mimicking sleep by putting his hand to his ear.
Looking down at Si-yul, there was no trace of sleepiness in Tae-joo’s eyes. For someone who claimed to have slept on Si-yul’s shoulder, his hair and clothes were immaculate. Si-yul realized Tae-joo was lying to make him feel better.
“If you really feel bad, you can buy me a drink,” Tae-joo suggested.
Tae-joo had already paid for dinner. Si-yul had tried hard to grab the bill, arguing that Tae-joo shouldn’t pay for both the concert and the meal, but in the end, Tae-joo had snatched it away. Whether it was a natural business acumen or some hidden super-strength gene in people with the surname Woo, Si-yul found he could never win against either Tae-joo or Hyun-se when it came to strength.
After using the concert as a sleeping aid, how could Si-yul refuse the request for a drink? Although he was concerned about his security detail, he figured it would be fine as long as it wasn’t too late. Si-yul readily agreed. Tae-joo’s face lit up as he picked up his phone.
“Shall we head out? The concert’s over anyway,” Si-yul said, nudging Tae-joo’s side with his elbow as he walked slowly, searching on his phone. Tae-joo jumped in surprise and hurried to open the door.
The lobby on the first floor was packed with people. While half the crowd was leaving like an ebbing tide, others were taking photos at a photo booth or sitting in chairs waiting for their companions. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Si-yul fixed his gaze on Tae-joo’s back, hurrying to keep up and not lose him.
Tae-joo looked back and reached out his hand. While two men holding hands might seem a bit odd, if they didn’t, they might drift apart like grains of sand swept away by waves. To avoid getting lost, there was no other choice but to take the offered hand. Tae-joo curled his fingers, gripping Si-yul’s hand firmly.
Holding hands certainly made it easier to navigate through the crowd. Si-yul stayed close behind Tae-joo, who seemed to be considerate of Si-yul’s pace and slowed down.
Suddenly, Tae-joo came to an abrupt stop. Si-yul, walking absent-mindedly, bumped his nose hard into Tae-joo’s back. Rubbing his sore nose, Si-yul peered around to the side. People were still crowded in front of Tae-joo.
Among them, one head stood noticeably taller than the others. Almost habitually, the word “No way” flashed through Si-yul’s mind just as Tae-joo cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Oh, Hyun-se hyung!” Tae-joo called out loudly.
His voice was so powerful that even in the noisy environment, several people flinched and turned to look at Tae-joo. The tall, broad-shouldered man also turned his head.
What a coincidence. It was someone Si-yul knew well too. Just this morning, they had been reluctant to part, clinging to each other. Si-yul’s lips spread into a wide grin at this unexpected but welcome encounter. He wanted to call out the name loudly too.
However, Si-yul’s parting lips slowly closed. Next to Hyun-se stood an unfamiliar woman. With her hair tied up in a bun, she was strikingly beautiful even from a distance.
Hyun-se looked in their direction too. His gaze, which had been fixed on Tae-joo, dropped to Si-yul. Si-yul tore his eyes away from the woman and looked at Hyun-se. Their eyes met in mid-air.
“Hyun-se hyung, over here!” Tae-joo called out again.
The name, which had been partially drowned out by the surrounding noise earlier, now reached Si-yul’s ears in perfect clarity. Tae-joo and Hyun-se knew each other. Si-yul twisted his shoulder, trying to pull his hand free from Tae-joo’s grip. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to flee from this space.
He felt scared and ominous. Though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was afraid of, he just felt he shouldn’t be here.
As he tried to retreat following his instincts, Tae-joo not only refused to let go but tightened his grip, firmly holding Si-yul in place. Before Si-yul could cry out to be released, cold sweat beaded on his pale palm.
By now, many people had left the lobby, and the once crowded space had become quite empty. Tae-joo pulled the resisting Si-yul along. Si-yul moved forward but kept his head down, staring at the floor. He watched until he saw a familiar shoe tip on the glossy tiles.
“So you did come with Seo-hee noona. Hey, you should have called if you were coming,” Tae-joo said cheerfully.
Hyun-se didn’t say anything. Si-yul’s whole body tingled. He felt pierced by the gaze. His heart pounded as if he was waiting for a sentence for a crime he hadn’t committed. His lips were parched, and his throat felt scorched. Hyun-se’s scent, which usually reminded Si-yul of a snow-covered forest, now felt like a dark, deep sea.
Si-yul swallowed hard and summoned all his courage to lift his head. Hyun-se wasn’t even looking at Tae-joo. He was staring directly at Si-yul, without a trace of a smile. When their eyes met, Hyun-se slowly lowered his gaze. His eyes lingered on the back of Si-yul’s hand, still held by Tae-joo.
“Ah, where are my manners? I should introduce you first. Hyung, this is Kwon Si… yul, the one I mentioned before,” Tae-joo said, his voice trailing off as he turned to look at Si-yul.
Si-yul’s complexion was so pale he looked like he might collapse at any moment. But more than that, where Si-yul was looking caught Tae-joo’s attention. He was staring at Hyun-se with a stunned expression, as if he had just seen a ghost come back to life.
