After throwing out the trash, I went to the building restroom. I washed my hands and dried the water off with a hand towel. Honestly, taking out the trash wasn’t exactly pleasant. But if Hyung needed me and even changed the way he spoke, I could do this kind of thing as much as it took.
He isn’t “Hyung.”
I was fully aware of that.
And now, I couldn’t even tell whether remembering that “Hyung,” whom I didn’t miss or long to see anymore, was obsession, nostalgia, or just familial affection.
Looking back on how I’d felt lust toward “Hyung” around the time we separated, it seemed closer to love—but calling it that felt like a stretch. I didn’t desperately want to find him, nor did I feel any urge to see him again.
I just wanted someone to be beside me. If I weren’t impotent, would I have been in love with someone? I even had delusions that when that “Hyung” disappeared, he took my sex drive with him. Like he’d sneer and ask how filthy I had to be to think of him while doing that.
I crumpled the hand towel along with those memories and tossed it into the trash can. Just then, my phone rang. It was my friend, Sang-jung.
“Yeah.”
[Did the poison from the Siren wear off?]
“No, not yet. I’m gonna die at the guild hideout. Why?”
[You asked me to lure that Yot Seller guy, remember? How about tonight?]
I shifted the phone from my shoulder into my hand properly.
“I’ll go. Bring another Guide with you. He’ll fall for it more easily that way.”
As I left the restroom and headed toward the building entrance, I ran into Bin. The scent of perfume that had soaked into Du-seon clung heavily to him. Since I was on the phone, I only met his eyes briefly and tried to pass by, but his shoes caught my attention.
They were shoes I’d seen somewhere a lot. He always wore loafers or dress shoes—never sneakers like those. Letting my gaze drop absentmindedly, I told Sang-jung I’d see him then and hung up.
I was about to head outside when Bin turned around and called out to stop me.
“Let’s talk for a minute.”
I wasn’t particularly eager, but there was still time before lunch, so I figured I’d hear him out.
“Hold on.”
First, I sent Du-seon a message through ShutUp’s number. Before beating up the Yot Seller tonight, I needed to lower my PG.
And honestly… I wanted him too. Du-seon’s skin was pale and soft. I liked how it flushed just enough when I bit and sucked at it. If I were being greedy, I’d have tasted other places thoroughly too, but there was plenty of time, so I held back.
I followed Bin into the elevator.
“It’s quiet. Guess the construction’s done?”
“Yeah, mostly. There are still a few extra things to add, but that stuff always changes.”
“So what did you want to talk about?”
Thinking about how close someone would have to be for Bin’s scent to soak into their clothes made my mood sour.
“Let’s talk in my office.”
We arrived on the sixth floor and entered the studio. I’d thought he was doing some big renovations, but now that I saw it, the place looked completely different—like stepping into another space altogether.
“You call this a studio? Feels more like a film set.”
“Well, photos are all about the background anyway, right? Sometimes we shoot videos too. This way.”
One of the sets really was in the middle of filming. As I followed him, I glanced over absentmindedly and stopped dead in my tracks.
Where my gaze landed, a male model posed almost naked in front of a chroma key backdrop. Only the essentials were barely covered as he struck alluring poses—clearly someone with plenty of shooting experience. The equipment wasn’t an ordinary camera either; it was professional gear, complete with perfect three-point lighting.
“What, you like that model?”
When I froze, Bin stood beside me and looked toward the shoot as well. Even though we were far enough that details should’ve been hard to see, the male model waved in our direction when filming paused. Bin gave a brief wave back and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“If you’re interested, tell me. I can introduce you.”
“This isn’t a normal shoot, is it?”
“Everything we do here is special.”
As Bin moved again, I followed. Circling behind the filming area, I spotted his private office. It was a separate space, glass-fronted but covered with blinds.
When I pushed the glass door open, a large desk faced me, and several sofas sat a bit farther back.
“Sit wherever you’re comfortable.”
I settled into a single-seat sofa and looked around. One wall was filled with photographs Bin had taken. Some were landscapes, but many were portraits. There were travel shots and everyday moments too.
“So, what did you want to say?”
“Ever thought about modeling?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think before answering.”
Bin grabbed a drink from a small fridge beside his seat and set it on the table. When I opened it, a crisp fizzing sound popped.
“What are you really trying to say? You didn’t call me here just to tell me to model.”
“Can’t I joke around?”
The tip of his crossed foot on the chair bothered me strangely. They were just plain white sneakers.
After taking another sip, I shot him a crooked glare. Leaning back with his head resting against the chair, Bin watched me steadily.
Like someone who had removed a smiling mask, his expression held no emotion. His tone had turned dry too, like someone living a colorless life. This was probably his real nature.
“Seomun Jun, I think I’ll show you my hand.”
“Why bother?”
“I thought you’d back off after a certain point, but you’ve gotten annoying. And I’m curious how you’ll react.”
Bin pulled a stack of photos from one of his drawers and handed me a few from the top.
I took them, wondering what kind of “hand” he meant. It showed a house with a yard. And inside it, I saw someone familiar.
…Hyung?
In the zoomed photos, Du-seon appeared in casual clothes. One shot showed him collecting laundry; another showed him exercising. What was certain was that he looked far younger than he did now.
When the hell were these taken?
Suddenly, I thought of the delivery box. Maybe Bin was someone who had known Du-seon for a long time.
As if he’d read my thoughts, Bin simply examined his fingernails while waiting for my reaction.
“Don’t tell me—you’re the bastard who sent the panties?”
“That’s all you’re going to ask? I’m disappointed.”
Where had he even taken photos from to get these angles?
Shrugging, Bin closed his mouth again. He must’ve shown his cards because he knew Hyung and I were closely connected. I could guess how long he’d been circling around Hyung—and that it had been a very long time.
“Why are you doing this to Hyung?”
“Me? I just like him.”
“You think doing all that just because you like someone makes sense?”
At his wordplay, I tossed the empty drink bottle onto the table. Being light plastic, it bounced slightly before falling to the floor.
“I’ve seen your hand. But you’re not even worth playing against.”
As I stood, Bin’s expression finally creased, as if he’d decided to speak seriously. Only then did he look a bit more human.
“At first, I just took photos out of habit. Back then, I couldn’t leave my house. When I finally thought I might be able to see him, he suddenly disappeared—so I ended up following him naturally. Naturally.”
“That’s fucking unnatural. Is Hyung some kind of spectacle? And why send semen?”
“Think of it as… marking territory?”
There were two reasons Bin showed me his hand.
Either make a deal—or die.
If I could face him, he’d let me stay by Hyung’s side. If not, it was a warning to back off. Hyung wasn’t the only one with a past. I had one too.
I sat back down for now. Maybe I should show my own hand and land a blow.
“I’m in a master-servant relationship with Hyung. You get what that means, right? No explanation needed.”
“Well, just a landlord and a realtor—”
“You’re more naïve than you look. It’s not that wholesome.”
Bin looked like he’d been struck. Lowering his head slightly, he let out a breathy laugh. Then he slowly lifted his head and brushed the hair that had fallen beside his face back with his hand.
“Opening with a Joker from the start… isn’t that cheating?”
“I told you. You’re not even in the game. Whether you squeeze it out and send it or not, do whatever you want. I’ll throw away everything I see. Just don’t approach Hyung more than necessary—before I expose what a total freak you are.”
For the first time, killing intent flashed in Bin’s eyes.
I didn’t know whether it was because I’d revealed my identity, or because of my master-servant relationship with Hyung. But he reacted like someone whose territory had been invaded—sensitive and deeply displeased.
As if trying to maintain politeness, Bin forced a smile.
“So… who’s the master?”
Of course. That was it.
He was extremely conscious of the relationship between me and Hyung.
“Why would I tell you something that interesting?”
“Don’t damage him.”
“That’s my decision. I don’t need a third party’s opinion.”
Honestly, now that I knew who Hyung’s stalker was, I felt relieved. It didn’t matter how many years Bin had lingered around him.
I was the only one Hyung needed. Bin couldn’t even stand proudly in front of him despite being a stalker. So I could just ignore this pathetic provocation. Part of me even felt a bit sorry that he’d spent years doing nothing but stalking.
You don’t even have the guts to grab him, so what are you acting tough for?
A laugh slipped out of me. Bin, who usually smiled at the end of every sentence, didn’t laugh along. He stared at me expressionlessly, like a wax figure.
Seeing that he still hadn’t spoken, it felt like game over. I tapped the armrest with my fingers as if counting down and stood up. Watching me rise, Bin spoke with a self-deprecating tone.
“Sit. I still have more to say.”
“Just say it.”
“Make a deal with me.”
“About what?”
Bin spun his chair toward the wall and stood. Then he touched a spot on it. A small safe, like a hidden box, appeared.
The thick door opened lightly at his touch, as if it had already been unlocked. He took something out and placed it in front of me. Another photo.
“What now?”
“You’ll see.”
What he tossed over Du-seon’s photos was a black-and-white nude photograph.
And there, standing in it, was a face I recognized.
