Seo Eun-jae casually asked for their agreement, then stepped right into the entrance of the haunted house. Despite the fake cobwebs and the crudely illustrated ghosts on the building, there were surprisingly few people in line. Considering haunted houses were usually one of the more popular attractions in an amusement park, it was unexpected.
Eun-jae looked absolutely thrilled, and Seung-hyeon maintained his usual cheerful expression. But Seon-woo, on the other hand, was seriously contemplating making a run for it. It wasn’t that he was particularly timid or couldn’t handle scary things—it’s just that he didn’t like horror in the first place. Especially the kind of content where ghosts jump out at you. He hated jump scares so much, he wouldn’t even watch movies that had them.
Still, there was no way he could say, “I don’t want to go in.” No doubt, a notification would pop up saying: “A Gwanggong does not fear haunted houses.”
In the end, he couldn’t escape. After the short wait in line, the three of them entered the haunted house. Inside the decrepit building, there was a smell—probably artificial—that resembled disinfectant, likely part of the atmosphere.
As soon as they stepped inside, Eun-jae glanced around and quickly glued himself to Seon-woo’s side. When Seon-woo turned to look at him, Eun-jae put on an exaggeratedly pitiful face and said,
“I get scared really easily. I’m terrified of ghosts.”
He had said something similar before riding the roller coaster, claiming he was easily frightened—but then turned out to be more excited than anyone else on the ride. So Seon-woo doubted Eun-jae was truly scared this time, either. Still, there was no reason to call him out on it, so Seon-woo let him cling on. Better this than having someone randomly shriek and jump in fright on their own.
The one who didn’t let it slide was Seung-hyeon.
Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the two of them before reaching out to grab the back of Eun-jae’s neck and yanking him away. Eun-jae turned his head, visibly baffled.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Completely unfazed, Seung-hyeon pulled Eun-jae behind him and positioned him right at his back. Then he guided Eun-jae’s head to rest on his own shoulder.
“See? This way, you can’t see what’s ahead and won’t be scared.”
On the surface, it sounded sweet. Letting someone rest their face on your shoulder was, by all accounts, a gentle gesture. But the way Seung-hyeon treated Eun-jae wasn’t kind in the slightest. Eun-jae’s head was practically pinned under his hand, unable to lift it, as he muttered,
“Can you please move your hand?”
“Why? You said you were scared.”
Seung-hyeon’s tone wasn’t playful—it had more of a mocking edge. Eun-jae’s expression was equally full of irritation.
That’s when Seon-woo suddenly remembered something from the character descriptions. The sub-male lead, Gwak Seung-hyeon, was supposed to start off interested in Eun-jae due to his inferiority complex toward Gwak Seon-woo, only to gradually develop genuine feelings for him. Even if he was acting like a jerk now, maybe he was following the plot exactly as written.
Seon-woo narrowed his eyes, watching them for a moment, then grabbed Eun-jae’s arm and pulled him away from Seung-hyeon.
“Quit messing around and let’s just get moving.”
<Gwanggong Score increased by 3.>
The system, seemingly convinced that Seon-woo was keeping Seung-hyeon in check because of Seo Eun-jae, cheerfully awarded him additional Gwanggong points. Eun-jae appeared to have interpreted it the same way. Beaming with satisfaction, he distanced himself from Seung-hyeon and settled in on the opposite side. In the end, the formation solidified with Seung-hyeon and Eun-jae flanking Gwak Seon-woo on either side.
As soon as they started walking, a pale, ghostly figure flitted across their vision. Probably one of the scare actors lying in wait. Right on cue, Eun-jae shrieked and latched onto Seon-woo’s arm. Seon-woo almost let out a gasp himself, but clamped his mouth shut just in time.
<A Gwanggong does not scream in a haunted house.>
Thankfully, his Gwanggong Score didn’t decrease, but the system still issued a warning. Seung-hyeon, standing beside him, chuckled as he alternated his gaze between Seon-woo and Eun-jae like he was watching a sitcom.
Contrary to the system’s concern, there ended up being no cause for actual screaming. The haunted house, as it turned out, was laughably tame—explaining why the wait line had been so short in the first place. But regardless of how obviously fake the ghosts were, Eun-jae clung to Seon-woo’s arm every single time something jumped out. After watching this happen a few times, even Seung-hyeon decided to play along, leaning toward Seon-woo with a dramatic, “I’m scared too~” as he crept closer.
Naturally, the system didn’t allow such nonsense, and Seon-woo had to brush him off coldly in return.
By the time they made it out of the haunted house, Gwak Seon-woo was mentally exhausted. Yet his Gwanggong body, oblivious to his inner fatigue, remained annoyingly full of energy.
As they eagerly went in search of their next ride, Seo Eun-jae and Gwak Seung-hyeon came to a stop in front of a snack bar. Usually, whenever Eun-jae halted first, Seung-hyeon and Seon-woo would stop with him. But this time, Eun-jae and Seung-hyeon stopped almost simultaneously, and without hesitation, the two of them began ordering snacks as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Eun-jae chose churros. He’d shown a peculiar obsession with them back in the office break room, and apparently, he wouldn’t be satisfied today unless he got some. Seung-hyeon bought a soft-serve ice cream. Without even a moment of hesitation, he picked vanilla over chocolate. Seon-woo silently nodded to himself as he observed that.
Of course, Seon-woo couldn’t buy anything. He was the Gwanggong. All he could do was silently look back and forth between the snacks in their hands. He’d always liked vanilla ice cream, and while churros weren’t exactly his favorite, for some reason, the one Eun-jae held looked mouthwateringly good. Is this just that “the grass is greener on the other side” effect? Is that why both of their snacks look so damn tasty…?
“Want me to buy you a churro?”
Eun-jae asked brightly. Maybe Seon-woo’s face had given him away without realizing it. Alarmed, he turned to look at Eun-jae—but his expression didn’t show the slightest expectation that Seon-woo would actually accept the offer. Seon-woo wondered, What kind of face would he make if I said, “Sure, thanks”?
As he was thinking that, Seung-hyeon suddenly held his ice cream right up to Seon-woo’s face.
“Here. Have the first bite.”
A generous offer—but one Seon-woo could never accept. Sure enough, before he could even open his mouth, the options popped up:
▶ “Why don’t you eat the whole damn thing yourself.”
▶ “Get that out of my face.”
As soon as he selected the curt four-character response, his hand moved on its own, swatting away Seung-hyeon’s hand. Wait, am I seriously about to knock the untouched ice cream to the ground?! Seon-woo’s face turned pale. There was no description saying I’d actually hit it away!
Fortunately, Seung-hyeon was quick. He smoothly and swiftly pulled his hand back before any disaster could occur. His voice, calm and even, followed right after.
“You must really dislike me.”
Whether he meant the ice cream or himself, Seon-woo wasn’t sure—but as far as the system was concerned, the answer was both. With a weary sigh, Seon-woo turned his head away. Right then, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment, Eun-jae cheerfully held out his churro.
“Try this. It’s really good.”
▶ (Gladly takes a bite.)
▶ (Takes a bite, hesitating.)
Seriously, what kind of options are these…
They were polar opposites. Dumbfounded, Seon-woo stared at the churro Eun-jae was offering. No matter how you spin it, isn’t this too harsh on Gwak Seung-hyeon?
But the system didn’t care about fairness. And it wasn’t like he had a real choice anyway. Resigned, Seon-woo hesitantly took a bite of the churro. He glanced over at Seung-hyeon, but just like before, his face showed no reaction.
“Ah, that was fun!”
By now, dusk had fallen, and the sky had darkened. After the haunted house, the only ride they’d gone on was a carousel—and even that, Eun-jae and Seung-hyeon rode on opposite ends while Seon-woo stood outside with his arms crossed, watching.
They hadn’t done much, but Seon-woo already felt drained. As he listened to Eun-jae’s cheerful voice, he subtly glanced around. Maybe now’s a good time to go home? He’s not going to say we should stay and watch the parade, right?
While he was weighing his options, Eun-jae suddenly spoke again.
“But you know…”
Seon-woo turned to look at him, ready to listen, while Seung-hyeon looked off toward the balloon vendor nearby. Eun-jae’s eyes lit up—and in a flash, he grabbed Seon-woo’s arm.
Then he started running.
Seon-woo instinctively glanced back at Seung-hyeon—and for some reason, couldn’t tear his eyes away. Seung-hyeon had turned his head just in time to see Eun-jae sprinting off at full speed, dragging Seon-woo along with him. The look on his face was impossible to read—some mix of disbelief and disappointment. But one thing was certain: he didn’t chase after them. He just stood there.
Seon-woo stared back with a confused expression, uncertain of what he was feeling. Then he looked ahead at Eun-jae, who was still running. But no matter which way he looked, the confusion only deepened.
***
If he’d chased after them right away, he probably could’ve caught up. But he didn’t.
Others around didn’t seem to notice, but near the balloon stand, there was a child standing alone, crying.
He wasn’t sure whether the kid was crying because he couldn’t get a balloon or because he’d lost his family, so he brought him over to the vendor first. After buying him a balloon and gently asking what was wrong, the boy said it was both—he couldn’t get a balloon and he’d gotten separated. Seung-hyeon explained the situation to the vendor, and the three of them waited together until the parents, prompted by a broadcast announcement, came to find their son.
By the time Seung-hyeon arrived chasing after Gwak Seon-woo, they were already at the ferris wheel. Because he hadn’t followed them right away, he hadn’t seen which direction they’d gone. He’d just had a strange hunch and followed it here. When he thought about where Seo Eun-jae would deliberately take Gwak Seon-woo, the ferris wheel had been the first thing to come to mind. Like he was being pulled by a magnet, he ended up walking straight here.
For some reason, he felt certain that the two of them were riding it now, slowly ascending higher and higher into the sky. Tilting his head to one side, Seung-hyeon stared at the rotating wheel.
As he stood there, a young couple approached.
“Excuse me, would you mind taking a picture of us?”
He readily took the offered phone and snapped a few photos for them. After checking the pictures, the couple thanked him and walked away. As they moved off, he overheard the guy grumbling, “Weren’t you staring a little too much at the guy who took the photo?” to which the girl shot back, “Let’s break up.”
He watched their retreating backs for a moment, then turned his gaze back to the ferris wheel.
Something subtle but unpleasant simmered quietly in his chest. It was a new kind of feeling. Lately, it always felt this way—and strangely enough, he didn’t entirely hate it.
A faint smile curved across Seung-hyeon’s lips, like it had been drawn there with deliberate care.
