Seon-woo fastened his seatbelt and opened his mouth with a reluctant tone.
“When you said we were going to the beach…”
“Sorry?”
Seung-hyeon, who had just started the ignition, asked back, as if he hadn’t heard. Still looking disgruntled, Seon-woo continued while staring out the window.
“When you said we were going to the beach, I didn’t realize you meant right this instant.”
Instead of making excuses or giving a drawn-out explanation, Seung-hyeon simply laughed cheerfully.
“Get some sleep on the way.”
With that, Seung-hyeon pulled the car out smoothly. Seon-woo turned his head slightly to check the time on the dashboard. It was already past midnight. Even if they assumed it would take three or four hours, they’d be arriving at dawn. He’d assumed they’d be leaving in the morning at the earliest, so this sudden departure felt utterly pointless. Having been unable to talk Seung-hyeon out of it and ending up in the car anyway, Seon-woo felt drained.
Without responding further, Seon-woo quietly glanced around the car. For reasons unknown, Seung-hyeon had insisted they take his own car tonight, and Seon-woo hadn’t had a compelling reason to refuse, so he just went along with it. The interior was clean and uncluttered, and thanks to the air freshener, the car smelled pleasant. Normally, Seon-woo got carsick easily from scented air fresheners, but whether it was because this particular scent suited him or because he was currently in a Gwanggong’s body, it didn’t bother him.
After one last glance at Seung-hyeon’s face, Seon-woo turned his gaze forward again. Seung-hyeon gently turned the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking lot, then reached out and turned on the car stereo. Soft classical music filled the space.
Was this Gwak Seung-hyeon’s taste? The thought crossed his mind, and as he mulled it over, he realized that no matter what genre Seung-hyeon claimed to like, it wouldn’t seem out of place. Even if that sweet-looking face casually said, “Back in school, I was into heavy metal and played in a band,” it might sound a little silly, but not particularly strange.
Is it because I’m tired? I keep thinking weird things…
Maybe Seung-hyeon noticed him smirking to himself, because at that exact moment—as if on cue—he glanced over.
“Eyes on the road. What are you looking at?”
It had only been a fleeting moment, not long enough to warrant that kind of scolding, but Seon-woo retorted with mock seriousness anyway. By the time he said it, Seung-hyeon’s gaze had already returned to the road. Confirming that, Seon-woo casually threw out a question.
“You like classical music?”
“Don’t dislike it.”
Seung-hyeon answered without a hint of hesitation. Hearing that, Seon-woo recalled the collection of classical albums stored in the study back at the Gwanggong’s house. It was probably a playlist chosen to match Gwak Seon-woo’s tastes. Feeling slightly awkward, he cleared his throat a couple of times and looked away. Even when he felt Seung-hyeon looking over through the rearview mirror, he pretended not to notice.
Seon-woo believed that falling asleep in the passenger seat while someone else was driving was bad manners. Still, surrounded by the soft classical music inside the car, he couldn’t help but feel drowsy. As he struggled to keep himself awake, Seung-hyeon suddenly spoke.
“Just go ahead and sleep.”
Being caught dozing off was embarrassing, but that didn’t make Seon-woo any less exhausted. With Seung-hyeon’s final words hanging in the air, he drifted into sleep.
***
In the dream, Gwak Seon-woo was dressed in a pitch-black suit. The face he’d seen reflected in the mirror before now moved right before his eyes. Seon-woo thought to himself, calm and detached.
It’s this again.
Having had this dream a couple of times already, he’d grown used to it. Seeing his own face no longer shocked him. He accepted without question that what stood before him wasn’t the current Gwak Seon-woo, but the Gwanggong of the past. Shifting his gaze from the Gwanggong, Seon-woo turned to look at the person standing across from him.
The moment he did, his eyes widened.
“How dare you show your face here?”
The Gwanggong snapped in a cold, cutting voice. Standing before him was Gwak Seung-hyeon, his expression worn and hollow. It wasn’t the kind, picture-perfect smile Seon-woo had seen so many times in the waking world. This one was faint, tinged with bitterness, resentment, and sorrow. Seon-woo found himself frozen, unable to look away from Seung-hyeon’s face.
Now that he looked closer… Seung-hyeon seemed a little younger than the version he knew.
“I’m here as a son. That’s my right.”
“Shut up.”
Unlike the real world, where Seung-hyeon had always addressed the Gwanggong with strict formality, the Seung-hyeon in the dream spoke in banmal—casual, informal speech. Maybe they used to speak that way to each other when they were younger. Since they were technically cousins on the family register, it wouldn’t have been unusual.
The Gwanggong looked displeased no matter what Seung-hyeon said. He glared with a clenched jaw, his expression seething with the kind of fury reserved for mortal enemies. If Seon-woo had been in Seung-hyeon’s place, he might’ve instinctively cowered or wanted to flee—but Seung-hyeon stood there, strangely composed.
“Even if you refuse to accept it, it doesn’t change anything…”
“I told you not to call me that.”
The Gwanggong’s fury deepened at Seung-hyeon’s calm words, his teeth grinding audibly. Though Seung-hyeon was speaking informally now, their relationship seemed even worse than it had been at the time Seon-woo had entered the Gwanggong’s body. With a cynical tone, Seung-hyeon shot back.
“Why not?”
Despite his sharp words, there was still something innately gentle about his face—but Seon-woo finally realized that the look in Seung-hyeon’s eyes, the one directed at the Gwanggong, was pure hostility. Regaining a sliver of composure, the Gwanggong shot back coldly.
“You’re not seriously asking that because you don’t know.”
Seung-hyeon, younger than he was now, responded in an even icier voice.
“Because it’s me?”
Even though it wasn’t directed at him, Seon-woo found himself at a loss for words. The Gwanggong was also silent—not for the same reason, surely—but instead of replying, he glared at Seung-hyeon with eyes so cold they sent a chill down Seon-woo’s spine.
“Are you trying to say that your father dying because of you was just something that couldn’t be helped?”
Seung-hyeon’s eyes flickered momentarily at the voice that spat out each word like venom. In the haze of his foggy mind, Seon-woo could only latch onto a single thought.
What’s with that tone…?
But the inner criticism of the Gwanggong’s way of speaking was short-lived—because Seung-hyeon’s reply came swiftly.
“If that’s what you want to believe, then go ahead.”
Without giving Seon-woo a moment to process it, the Gwanggong snapped back immediately.
“Cut the fake-friendly backtalk.”
Seung-hyeon didn’t back down an inch.
“If that’s what you want to believe, then fine by me, Director.”
The Gwanggong glared at Seung-hyeon for a long while, then suddenly turned on his heel. In that moment, the Gwanggong’s thoughts flowed directly into Seon-woo’s mind.
That bastard and his whore of a mother are the reason Uncle died.
Ungrateful son of a bitch…
As soon as he heard it, everything went black.
How much time passed, he didn’t know. Seon-woo already understood he was dreaming, so he quickly gave up trying to measure time. Once the darkness lifted and his vision cleared, a voice rang out before he could even take in his surroundings.
“It was you, wasn’t it?! It was you! You did it!”
He immediately recognized the voice as Gwak Seung-hyeon’s. Seon-woo whipped his head around. Seung-hyeon had someone by the collar. Even before seeing the face, he instinctively knew—it was the Gwanggong. Sure enough, Gwanggong stood, caught in Seung-hyeon’s grip, face twisted in a mix of irritation and confusion as he stared back.
Seung-hyeon was nearly unhinged, yelling and shaking him. The surroundings were too blurred to discern where they were—it was like the two of them existed in a fog with nothing else but each other. Seung-hyeon screamed like a man possessed.
“You should’ve come after me if you were that angry! Why the hell did you do that to my mother?! What the hell did she ever do to deserve that?!”
It was as if someone had poured ice water over Seon-woo’s head. His mother? Did the Gwanggong do something to Seung-hyeon’s mother in the original story? And was that somehow connected to the Gwanggong’s earlier thoughts about “Uncle dying because of them”? Seon-woo’s mind struggled to piece it together in the disjointed logic of a dream. Then, the Gwanggong’s cold voice cut through the haze.
“Got any proof I did it?”
Judging by his expression, it didn’t seem like a lie. But his tone was so smug, so insufferable, no one would believe him anyway. Seung-hyeon ignored the remark entirely and suddenly changed the subject.
“Why do you think Dad did what he did that day? Why do you think he risked his life to save us, knowing he might die?”
The Gwanggong’s face twisted into a miserable scowl. Seon-woo’s heart sank too, as if he were reacting to emotions that didn’t even belong to him.
“That’s what love is. That’s what it really is! It’s not about blaming, resenting, tying people down, or locking them away like you do!”
Seung-hyeon’s voice kept rising, even as the grip on the Gwanggong’s collar gradually weakened. The less strength in his hands, the sharper and clearer his words became.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to love anyone properly? Do you think you’ll ever be truly loved by someone? Never. Not a chance. You don’t know how to accept someone’s feelings, you don’t know how to understand them, and you sure as hell don’t know how to respect them!”
If Seon-woo had been in a rational state, he might’ve been confused by the abrupt shift from talking about Seung-hyeon’s mother to this. But somewhere along the line, he had become swept up in the Gwanggong’s emotions. Shaken. A single thought rose in his mind.
Just shut up.
And at that moment, the Gwanggong spoke.
“Shut the hell up.”
Startled, Seon-woo jerked his head up—and saw Seung-hyeon, having let go, now shouting back at full volume.
“Before you say you love someone, try not to destroy their life first! Just like you told me to disappear from your life, why don’t you disappear from Seo Eun-jae’s!”
His head buzzing like static, Seon-woo had one last fleeting thought.
Who the hell do you think you are…
And then everything went black again.
At some point, Seon-woo slowly forced his heavy eyelids open.
“You’re awake?”
Once again, the first thing he saw in front of him was Seung-hyeon’s face.
