Is this really the right thing to do? Is this something I should even be doing?
Of course, he’d asked himself those questions—more than once, in fact. He’d pondered them each time he looked into Gwak Seon-woo’s face. Maybe it would be better to just leave him alone.
He couldn’t say with absolute certainty that the whole “I lost my memory” thing was a complete lie. But whether it was true or not, one thing was undeniable—his behavior had changed. The fact that he was spending more time with Seo Eun-jae was secondary. What really mattered was the way he treated him.
He acted like he was still rejecting him with his words and actions, just like before—but his expression told a different story. And when it came down to it, in those critical moments, he always left a crack open—as if he were giving him a chance.
How the hell was that supposed to make any sense? Gwak Seon-woo, who used to recoil even at the suggestion of hanging out, now casually following along when asked to grab a drink? Staggering drunk, wobbling on his feet—letting the cousin he hated prop him up, leaning in to whisper, pleading into his mouth…
As ridiculous as it sounded, that night Seung-hyeon dreamed about him. That never happened—not even back in his hormone-fueled high school years. When he woke up and saw the damp sheets, he’d just scratched his head awkwardly and tried to brush it off. But the thoughts tied to that dream clung to his mind all day long, growing heavier, refusing to fade.
That’s why it happened. That’s why he blew up at Seo Eun-jae over something he might’ve otherwise let slide.
“Did you two make plans for a date or something?”
That day, Eun-jae had walked into the office looking unusually cheerful. The only person who could make him that happy was Gwak Seon-woo, and that realization left a bitter taste in Seung-hyeon’s mouth.
Normally, jealousy and Gwak Seung-hyeon didn’t even belong in the same sentence. But in that moment, he’d become laughably petty.
Last night I kicked him out without a second thought… and now here you are, all chummy with him again.
To make things worse, the moment Eun-jae heard the word “date,” his expression turned bashful. Seung-hyeon’s cynical thoughts only grew darker.
He likes you now—but has he seen it yet? Has Seo Eun-jae ever witnessed how that stern, unyielding face contorts in the throes of desire? How those calm, detached breaths start to falter? How those straight, pristine fingers bend, twist, and clutch as they give in to ecstasy?
Will he ever get the chance to see that side of him?
With a mechanical smile stretched across his lips, Seung-hyeon recalled the kind of expression Seon-woo made whenever he looked at Seo Eun-jae. He seemed interested in the guy—maybe even caught off guard by him at times. But his face always looked somewhat uncomfortable.
Like he saw him—Gwak Seung-hyeon—as some unwelcome intruder, an obstacle getting in the way. And yet… whenever Seung-hyeon barged in during moments where they were alone together, Seon-woo would show a flicker of—relief.
No wonder it was so damn confusing.
What the hell was he thinking, spending so much time with Seo Eun-jae? Was it just that, without his memories, he’d become drawn to someone plain, harmless, and utterly dull like Eun-jae? Or was the whole amnesia thing just an elaborate lie to mock Gwak Seung-hyeon, while genuinely opening his heart to Eun-jae?
Or… maybe—maybe he was being blackmailed.
Or else…
Even if all the expressions he saw were nothing more than figments of his own delusion, he wished Seon-woo would just come out and say it—make things clear once and for all.
But at the same time… he wanted him to keep leaving room for misinterpretation. So that he could keep hoping.
Maybe that space was something only Gwak Seung-hyeon was allowed to have. And even if not now, maybe someday, it could become that way.
Was it so impossible for those disheveled looks, those twisted expressions, to belong to him and him alone?
While Seung-hyeon was drowning in thoughts he could no longer control, Eun-jae finally caved and revealed the location of his date with Gwak Seon-woo. He said it with gritted teeth, clearly reluctant. Watching Eun-jae give in so easily to the mildest of pressure made Seung-hyeon let out a childish, mocking chuckle.
This was why he said what he did. Seo Eun-jae might be kind, good-natured, and cheerful—but he wasn’t someone who could really pique Gwak Seon-woo’s interest. He crumbled too easily.
And now that he’d gotten the date location out of him, Seung-hyeon fully intended to crash it—properly, unapologetically. But even as he headed to the amusement park with the intention of ruining their little outing, he couldn’t help but take a moment for some self-reflection.
Do I really need to go this far? He told himself it was for Seon-woo’s sake, but wasn’t it just petty jealousy driving him in the end?
But the moment he had that thought, he remembered Seon-woo’s face at the movie theater. That look of confusion, of not knowing what to do. And then—when he heard his voice—how his expression visibly softened in relief.
Sure, he’d said all sorts of prickly things afterward, but he could never hide his eyes. No matter how much he tried to mask himself with that stern expression, the honesty in his gaze always betrayed him.
Seung-hyeon didn’t deny it. It was petty jealousy. What he was doing wasn’t normal by any stretch.
“Fancy seeing you here. Nice weekend, isn’t it?”
But still—he saw it. Just like always, the moment he showed up, Gwak Seon-woo’s eyes subtly relaxed. Sure, he quickly averted his gaze and acted distracted, but that look—he couldn’t write it off as his imagination.
Seung-hyeon didn’t know why Seon-woo insisted on pretending, but he played along, pretending to chat with Seo Eun-jae as he smoothly turned his own gaze aside. Because the moment he looked at Seon-woo’s face, he was reminded of that look—That disheveled, vulnerable face from his dreams.
And Seung-hyeon admitted it to himself, quickly and without flinching: What he was doing wasn’t normal. But then again, nothing had been normal since the moment he found himself getting turned on by his own cousin.
With that admission, it suddenly felt easier to walk around like this, shameless and unbothered.
Seon-woo grumbled and acted annoyed at his presence, but he genuinely seemed to be enjoying the amusement park. Whether he was itching to get on the spinning teacups, stiffening with fear at the roller coaster, or browsing the headbands on display—his overall mood didn’t seem bad at all.
Feeling justified in having followed them, Seung-hyeon bought a headband. It was the kind that made the wearer look like they were being eaten by a crocodile—a scowling crocodile with its mouth wide open.
He’d picked it because it reminded him of Seon-woo, of course. But if he ever said that out loud, he’d probably get punched, so he kept it to himself.
Still, when Seon-woo saw him show up wearing that ridiculous crocodile headband and accidentally let out a laugh, Seung-hyeon couldn’t help but think—maybe he wasn’t just like a cranky crocodile after all.
He’d spaced out for a moment, lost in the memory of that smile. And maybe because of that—or maybe because he noticed a child nearby crying, seemingly lost—he’d turned his attention elsewhere for just a second.
But in that fleeting moment, Seo Eun-jae had grabbed Seon-woo and darted off like a shot.
Seung-hyeon admitted it—he’d let his guard down. So he sighed and walked over to the lost child.
“Hi there.”
The crying child lifted their head and looked up at Seung-hyeon. While he asked the kid their name and whether they remembered their parents’ phone number, his mind was elsewhere—picturing a young Gwak Seon-woo visiting an amusement park.
Definitely not normal.
But still—
“Could you make an announcement for me?”
You’re not normal either, are you, hyung?
“That’s it, just wait a little bit and your mom will come. Want me to get you a balloon?”
You’re not normal either, right?
“If you let go, it’ll fly away—so don’t loosen your grip.”
You lost your memory. You’ve got no one to rely on except me, and I’m not even someone you can fully trust. You still feel awkward around me, still hate me, and you’re constantly unsettled— And yet, when you see my face, you let out this helpless sigh of relief…
You’re just like me now.
“Yerin! Oh my god… thank you. Thank you so much!”
The child’s mother came running toward them, snapping Seung-hyeon out of his thoughts.
Still crouched at eye level, he said goodbye to the child. The little girl, now reunited with her mom, promised she’d never let go of her hand again, but kept glancing back at him, waving like she didn’t want to part just yet.
Seung-hyeon returned her wave until the very end, then gently straightened up and stood. He’d long since lost track of Seo Eun-jae and Gwak Seon-woo, but he had no intention of going to look for them.
He already knew exactly where he wanted to go.
Off in the distance, the slow-turning Ferris wheel came into view. He began walking toward it, his steps calm and unhurried.
A memory surfaced—Back in high school, when he had visited an amusement park with his then-still-unfamiliar stepfather. They’d ridden the Ferris wheel together, both awkwardly silent, staring out the window the entire time. It was during that ride that he’d heard, for the very first time, the name of the boy who would become his cousin.
He’d been told—years ago, more than a decade ago—that when Seon-woo was a child, he had come to an amusement park with his own father and had the time of his life.
Which meant…
Gwak Seung-hyeon had waited over ten years just to see that version of him.
Even if the one riding that Ferris wheel with him today wasn’t him but Seo Eun-jae, it was okay. Even if he’d spent the entire day keeping his distance, acting cold toward Seung-hyeon, even shielding Eun-jae like some kind of subtle defense—He could endure it.
Because today, when Seon-woo saw him, he looked relieved.
Because their eyes met—and without thinking, Seon-woo smiled.
Because during all those fleeting moments… He genuinely looked like he was having fun. Like a child.
Seung-hyeon pulled out his phone and began slowly composing a message to send him.
He was used to waiting by now. Waiting didn’t scare him anymore.
So right now… this was enough.
He could wait as long as it took.
