Desires Chapter 1.9 - II. Coldness and Desire

It was by sheer, unexpected coincidence that Song Yeongin came to work at the fine dining restaurant ‘LA CURE,’ which had recently opened.

The small pasta shop run by President Bang, where he had been working simply because of a job posting for dinner service, had finally closed due to financial difficulties. Having lost his evening job, Song Yeongin was busy looking for another one.

Perhaps out of guilt towards Song Yeongin, who had waited without pressing him even when his last paycheck was late, President Bang had suddenly offered to introduce him to a job and sent him here.

He had heard that the president’s friend was in the kitchen here. Song Yeongin had assumed the job he was being introduced to was at a small, humble establishment just like his previous one, but he could not hide his surprise when he arrived for the interview.

Jeon Yoseong, a Korean ‘Sous—chef’ from ‘NOMA,’ a 3-Michelin-star fine dining restaurant in Spain and a previous winner of The World’s Best Restaurant award, had become independent from ‘NOMA’ and returned to his home country to open La Cure for the first time. As a top-tier restaurant that had attracted massive investment capital, it was receiving a great deal of public anticipation and attention.

Ahead of its opening, La Cure was hiring additional part-time workers to assist with kitchen and front-of-house duties.

President Bang had introduced Song Yeongin for a kitchen assistant position, helping with miscellaneous tasks like washing dishes and preparing ingredients, but the manager in charge of the interview boldly hired Song Yeongin as a front-of-house server instead.

It seemed she had taken note of the single line on his resume mentioning his work experience at Asyut Lounge. Manager Kang Miyoung summed up the reason for Song Yeongin’s switch to a front-of-house server like this.

“Your face is too good to be wasted in a kitchen.”

Song Yeongin was concerned about whether he, who was used to doing odd jobs at small establishments, could adapt well to such a high-caliber fine dining restaurant. However, the pay offered by the establishment was quite generous, and the advantage of being able to work additional hours beyond his shift led him to the conclusion that if he took this job, he could quit one of the early morning jobs he was doing while surviving on catnaps.

True to its nature of serving course meals in the traditional fine dining style, La Cure operated on a strict reservation-only basis. The massive scale of the establishment, consisting of an enormous hall and numerous luxurious private rooms, made Song Yeongin’s jaw drop when he first set foot in La Cure.

Upon opening, La Cure, as if to meet everyone’s expectations, quickly rose to become a renowned spot for domestic gourmands and celebrities, aided by Chef Jeon Yoseong’s media appearances.

🌫️

A formal uniform of a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Thanks to his uniquely neat and refined appearance, Song Yeongin seemed to fit perfectly with the dignified atmosphere of La Cure, no matter who was looking.

His delicate features, which allowed for not a single flaw, and his clear, fair skin stood out exceptionally in the brightly lit interior of La Cure. His calm way of speaking and melodious voice were exceedingly gentle and smooth for serving customers.

“According to a review by Hwang Jiu, a famous influencer currently appearing on a television program, a front-of-house server with celebrity-level looks so mesmerizing they will melt you more softly than La Cure’s signature dessert, the saffron sherbet, is waiting for you at La Cure.”

Manager Kang Miyeon, who was about to resume service after the break, read aloud from a page of a famous women’s monthly magazine that featured La Cure that month.

“It says this in the magazine. This has to be about you, Song Yeongin, right?”

“……”

As the gazes of his colleagues poured onto him, Song Yeongin ducked his head low as if embarrassed.

“Well, it was you, Song Yeongin, who served Hwang Jiu’s table that day.”

“To think that talk of your looks, Song Yeongin, is even being used for publicity in the media, I guess I really made the right choice in hiring you.”

The staff burst into laughter at Manager Kang Miyeon’s casual joke.

“That’s why all those people who say they came after seeing Hwang Jiu’s social media are making such a fuss, asking to see who that server is…”

After the story, presumed to be about Song Yeongin, was mentioned in the review by Hwang Jiu, who held immense influence in the restaurant industry, Song Yeongin was treated somewhat like a celebrity within La Cure.

In the hall, the furtive glances and whispers of many customers followed behind Song Yeongin, and his colleagues would tease the naive Song Yeongin, who couldn’t get used to such attention, as if finding him cute.

However, having learned the lesson at Jimil and Asyut that drawing others’ attention was never a good thing, Song Yeongin found all the gazes and the attention he was receiving to be utterly uncomfortable and unsettling. He had not even gotten the hang of his job yet at the newly opened restaurant. What if he made a big mistake or got entangled in some unpleasant trouble…

Song Yeongin could not help but naturally think of Matteo. It was hardly a welcome prospect for Song Yeongin to attract others’ attention and once again get caught up in unwanted affairs, becoming a nuisance. He could only be anxious, wondering if he would have to lose the job he had barely managed to get and leave again.

🌫️

The VIP rooms, which bordered a Spanish-style artificial garden that perfectly replicated the local landscaping by modeling it after the Alhambra Palace in Granada, were another spectacle that had made La Cure a renowned spot.

Meeting the requirements to use a VIP room was rather difficult, so serving the high-class VIP guests was always the responsibility of the proficient hall manager.

However, today was a little different. Manager Kang Miyeon, having just come out of one of La Cure’s VIP rooms, urgently looked for Song Yeongin. Song Yeongin, who had been in the middle of serving another table, had to be hastily summoned before the manager.

“The order and wine pairing are done, so from now on, you, Song Yeongin, will take over serving the last special VIP room.”

The manager abruptly assigned the VIP room service to Song Yeongin. A familiar name struck the ears of Song Yeongin, who nodded and agreed without knowing the reason why.

“I heard Shin Hwayeon is here.”

Song Yeongin had to doubt his ears. Jiwon, a fellow front-of-house server, came close to Song Yeongin and whispered softly.

“They say actress Shin Hwayeon came with some man, and he’s incredibly handsome…. I think they’re a couple.”

Hearing Jiwon’s words, only one person came to Song Yeongin’s mind.

It felt like his heart had dropped. It began to pound as if it would burst. The frantically racing sound of his heart made it impossible to think of anything else. He hoped it wasn’t true. That the person accompanying Shin Hwayeon was not the man he suspected.

Even uttering that man’s name now felt strange. Even if Shin Hwayeon’s companion was that man, it had nothing to do with him. Would that man even remember him now, a mere servant from Jimil?

Song Yeongin did not want to run into Cha Woojin. There was no reason he should not, either. But what was it inside him that was drawing out such a shudderingly strong denial? For a while now, he had been unable to get a grip on himself because of the strange reactions his body was showing.

Only a strong gut feeling that if the person in that VIP room was Cha Woojin, he must absolutely not face him, was shaking Song Yeongin to his core.

He recalled the harsh eyes of the man who had violated him in his dreams. The large back that had overpowered him with physical force followed like an apparition, brazenly tickling his lower abdomen. His face, flushed with shame, turned pale. Song Yeongin shook his head at the empty air.

He wanted to express his wish not to enter that table. However, the manager had already left, seemingly on urgent business. There must have been a good reason for the manager to specifically single out Song Yeongin.

“The manager always calls for you, Song Yeongin, whenever someone famous comes, doesn’t she?”

“Isn’t it because he’s the visual of La Cure? The PR team has been using that for media promotion ever since it was published in the magazine. I’m telling you, that’s why she’s doing it on purpose.”

After much difficulty, Song Yeongin stood before the VIP room, pulling the serving tray that had been assigned to him.

Song Yeongin stood for a moment, holding his breath in front of the door, as if performing a ritual. His serene, clear eyes, filled with moisture, blinked slowly several times.

He hesitated for a long time before opening the door and entering the VIP room. He had a bad feeling. Such feelings were never wrong.

“Excuse me.”

Suppressing his tension as much as possible, he announced his presence to the guests. The door to La Cure’s most splendid and private luxury room, which welcomed VIP guests, opened.

Dazzling sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass window. A man and a woman were sitting facing each other at a table, with the beautiful Spanish-style artificial garden replicating the Alhambra and a pond with an ornamental fountain spouting water as their backdrop.

The two people sitting there opposite each other like a painting did not belie Song Yeongin’s sad premonition.

Shin Hwayeon and Cha Woojin. It was precisely those two.

His heart began to pound as if it would burst. His pulse raced so violently he could hear it in his ears. With every step he took, he felt the illusion that everything was disappearing. That man had stolen such incomplete things from him several times before.

Song Yeongin stiffened for a moment under the focused gazes of the two people, but, as if by a lie, he had to immediately continue serving calmly as his duty required. He had to wear a mask. If there was one thing Song Yeongin had learned at Jimil, it was how to wear a mask with a detestable face.

“This is the amuse-bouche, to be enjoyed with Cava.”

The fingertips that set down the white plate, which had considerable negative space and weight, trembled faintly.

Placing the second plate in front of Cha Woojin, Song Yeongin barely held back the breath that felt like it would stop. He could not even exhale properly, as if the man might hear his startled breath.

Next, Song Yeongin skillfully explained the plate in a calm and pleasant voice.

Both Cha Woojin’s and Shin Hwayeon’s gazes were fixed on Song Yeongin as if to pierce through him. The crisp, unwrinkled white shirt uniform accentuated his overly neat and delicate features and his straight, elegant body line.

Cha Woojin’s stinging gaze latched onto Song Yeongin as he set down the plate.

As he brushed past the man’s impeccably tailored dark suit, the man’s scent reached the tip of his nose. An air of dignity that made others bow their heads, a gaze that was arrogant and uninhibited beyond mere confidence. It was a composure so typical of him.

Song Yeongin deliberately avoided looking toward Cha Woojin. He could only gauge him out of the corner of his eye as he turned away with a very slight, light nod. He had only stolen a glance, as if thieving, at the man’s still heart-poundingly handsome profile.

The man’s appearance was a far cry from the barbarity of the ruthless tyrant who had stripped him bare and violated him in his dreams. His appearance seemed more ascetic and restrained than at any time Song Yeongin had known him to be. The languor that brushed across his tired face made him appear even colder and more intellectual.

Perfect and upright symmetries sometimes produce manipulated fantasies in the back of one’s consciousness. Asceticism and desire coexisted in Cha Woojin’s face. He was static and at the same time dynamic. That overwhelming duality approached one with a strange and cunning sexual charm, enough to crush the onlooker.

Thanks to this, Song Yeongin was instead reminded of the depraved and lewd Cha Woojin from his dreams and had to blush to the tips of his ears in shame.

A dark self-loathing rose from beneath the surface.

Shin Hwayeon would not recognize him. It had already been several months since he last saw her. As a top star, she would meet countless people. It was only natural that she would not recognize him, a mere passing servant.

However, Cha Woojin was different. Surely, he would remember him. But the man’s perfect and arrogant face was shamelessly pretending not to know him. Soon, Song Yeongin found himself shrinking before his nonchalant arrogance.

Just how far was his own pride meant to be tested?

A faint self-deprecation that stirred up unease passed over his delicate, transparent face. Why was he so sure that the man would remember him? Perhaps he had forgotten his very existence. Or perhaps, he thought someone like him was not even worth acknowledging.

It was when Song Yeongin, having knocked and entered again, brought the main dish made with sea bass to the table. The one who recognized Song Yeongin was not Cha Woojin, but Shin Hwayeon.

“Excuse me, are you perhaps… from Jimil….”

Her beauty was magnificent, befitting an actress. Shin Hwayeon, with her haughty and sophisticated beauty like a single flower, slowly looked Song Yeongin over again as he was serving.

“That’s right, the wine…! You’re that staff member from that time, right?!”

She dredged up memories she had vaguely forgotten. The actress with the haughty and splendid beauty chattered to Song Yeongin like a mischievous girl.

“Am I the only one who recognized you? The one who hurt his hand back then… That’s right! …You’re that staff member, right?”

Shin Hwayeon quickly glanced at Cha Woojin, seeking his agreement.

“Woojin, don’t you remember?”

However, despite her fuss, Cha Woojin did not spare Song Yeongin a single glance. He was merely sipping the champagne in front of him with grace and composure.

Cha Woojin remained silent. He offered no reply to Shin Hwayeon. She, seeming quite pleased with Cha Woojin’s cold reaction, continued speaking.

“I guess the Director doesn’t remember. You have an uncommon impression, so you kept lingering in my mind, and I was wondering who you were….”

“Yes….”

Song Yeongin replied briefly and offered a faint smile to Shin Hwayeon. But that was all.

“Please enjoy your time.”

Turning away, Song Yeongin hastily escaped the suffocating place as if fleeing.

Leaving behind Cha Woojin’s indifferent and cold face that did not even acknowledge him, he left that splendid Spanish-style garden behind and firmly closed the private room’s door.

Song Yeongin did not want to enter the VIP room again. He felt like he would suffocate, crushed by that awkward and heavy atmosphere. However, Song Yeongin still had the dessert left to serve for the next course.

It was when Song Yeongin, who had entered with the dessert, was handing Shin Hwayeon a sherbet made of figs and pine nuts. Shin Hwayeon began to scrutinize Song Yeongin’s face up close.

“I didn’t get a good look back then because it was dark… but seeing you in a bright place like this, your features are better than I thought.”

Shin Hwayeon, at a close distance, was looking at Song Yeongin as if appraising him, with her chin propped on her hand. He could not understand why she was acting that way. She kept making unnecessary comments to Song Yeongin, who was setting down the dessert.

A languid air settled on Cha Woojin’s sharp, straight nose. His listless gaze suddenly and casually swept over Song Yeongin, who was standing next to Shin Hwayeon.

There was not an ounce of reservation in the man’s pitch-black and aggressive gaze, not even the slightest censorship of being conscious of others’ eyes. However, not a single word emerged from his lips. As if that silence itself was power.

“Did you quit Jimil?”

Shin Hwayeon was being strangely friendly to him. At the same time, she was alternately looking at Cha Woojin’s cold-blooded and indifferent face, as if gauging him.

Shin Hwayeon seemed greatly thrilled by the fact that Cha Woojin did not remember the low-ranking employee to whom he had shown excessive kindness last time. Her actions of watching his expression were shallow, yet there was an aspect that was, in a way, pitiful.

“Yes, it has been quite some time since I quit.”

Song Yeongin met Shin Hwayeon’s eyes directly and responded briefly to her interest. Then, Shin Hwayeon stopped Song Yeongin with an expression that suggested she had something else to say.

“It seems you’re drifting from one job to another… If you’re interested, maybe.”

Shin Hwayeon took a business card out of the wallet on the table. And she handed the business card to Song Yeongin, who was standing there blankly.

Song Yeongin tried to make out the words on the business card Shin Hwayeon handed him.

YV Entertainment

“President Hwang is hell-bent on finding a new face these days. If you’re interested in this line of work, give him a call. Your image is clean and your features are fresh, so you seem to be exactly the face President Hwang is looking for for his commercials right now….”

Song Yeongin waved his hands in refusal at Shin Hwayeon’s sudden offer.

“No. It’s alright.”

“I’m not just saying this to be polite, I’m speaking objectively. So if you’re interested, give him a call.”

“……”

“I’m talking about you…. You’re too eye-catching for anyone to miss. A face like that, it seems a waste in many ways to let it go to waste like this.”

“……”

Then, she fiddled with her champagne glass as if hesitating for a long time before she began to speak.

“And if you had any hard feelings toward me last time, forget them. I’m saying this because I don’t want to be remembered as a bad connection.”

Shin Hwayeon spoke with a benevolent smile, as if bestowing a great charity.

Cha Woojin, who had been sitting opposite her, silently fiddling with his knife, let out a low breath that held his characteristic resonance. It was a cold sneer, uttered right to her face. His sharp nose and straight jawline settled into view as if in mockery.

She was greatly flustered.

Shin Hwayeon, who had been holding out the business card, flinched and looked at Cha Woojin. Shin Hwayeon was overreacting sensitively to every little gesture and expression of Cha Woojin.

Did everyone become like that in front of that man? It did not matter if they were male or female. In front of him, everyone tucked their tails and became the weak, as if about to be devoured. As if they never had the right to refuse in the first place. The man, as if chosen to be a top predator from birth, to his very bones, had no reservations about reigning over others.

Shin Hwayeon, watching Cha Woojin’s expression, was on pins and needles, like someone who had been forced to accept the rules of an unfair game.

Why had she participated in such a reckless game? Suddenly, Song Yeongin thought she was pitiful.

He had no interest whatsoever in the business card Shin Hwayeon offered, and it was a useless thing he had no need for in his life. Song Yeongin was constitutionally unsuited for work that required the attention or interest of others. To Song Yeongin, the attention or interest of others had always been, in itself, pain and violence. However, Song Yeongin accepted the business card in Shin Hwayeon’s hand so as not to embarrass her outstretched hand.

Cha Woojin watched this scene with an unabashed gaze, as if he found it amusing. Cha Woojin was staring fixedly at Song Yeongin. It was so blatant, as if Shin Hwayeon did not exist in that spot. In fact, it was Song Yeongin who was watching Shin Hwayeon’s reaction. His neat eyes, wavering with predicament, collided with that aggressive gaze that had no intention of hiding its interest.

The asceticism that knew restraint was nowhere to be found. He saw the ominous desire dwelling within the eyes that looked at him. Song Yeongin was once again reminded of that harsh dream.

🌫️

It was when Song Yeongin had finished serving the final dessert to Cha Woojin and Shin Hwayeon’s table and come out.

Manager Kang Miyeon, who had seemed extremely rushed for a while, stopped Song Yeongin. Normally, she had always handled the VIP rooms herself unless there was something special.

But today, Manager Kang Miyeon was uncharacteristically flustered and busy, such as suddenly assigning the VIP room service to Song Yeongin. She approached him abruptly and asked him urgently.

“Song Yeongin, the wine list and reference documents I gave you to memorize yesterday… do you happen to have them with you now?”

“Yes…. They are in my bag.”

“Phew…, I’m saved. It seems an order form accidentally got mixed in with the materials I gave you yesterday, Song Yeongin.”

“Ah, yes….”

The manager checked her wristwatch and spoke urgently.

“I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry right now. I have to get the order form in before the ordering deadline. Can you go and get the wine list and the document materials I gave you yesterday? There are 10 minutes left…! Please hurry.”

Although Song Yeongin had only been at La Cure for a short time, because he was an opening member who had prepared for La Cure’s launch together, the manager shared more work with Song Yeongin, a simple front-of-house server, than one might expect.

This was because the manager, having learned that Song Yeongin had been in charge of liquor management at Asyut, was entrusting part of the liquor management duties at closing time to Song Yeongin.

Song Yeongin’s memory was so exceptionally good that the sommelier and manager would separately give him the wine list and train him on ordering. Song Yeongin was trusted by the manager here and was competently handling high-level tasks that were difficult to expect from a simple part-timer.

At her urgent request, Song Yeongin’s own footsteps quickened as he ran to the staff locker room to find the order form.

He began to rummage through his bag in the cabinet. He tried to find the paper that was said to be tucked between the wine list and the documents, but it was not easy to find the order form due to the surprisingly large volume of documents. He stopped the hand that was searching for the paper and answered his phone, which had been vibrating loudly. The manager’s urgent voice came through the phone.

“The ordering deadline is almost here…! I’m in a real hurry, so please hurry up. Just bring your bag and run over! Right now!”

At her urgent voice, he gave up on finding the order form, grabbed the entire bag, and burst through the door.

He quickened his pace. He headed to the office where the manager was, moving at a near run. It was as he was crossing through the private rooms, practically running in his haste.

In a moment of inattention, he ended up colliding with the large figure of a man who suddenly appeared at a fork in the path. The bag in his hand went flying through the air, ‘whoosh!’

Song Yeongin, who had been running, made a dull ‘thud’ sound and collided with the man with a powerful impact. He fell backward, landing hard on his backside.

He looked up at the tall, sturdy body, solid as iron, that he had collided with. The man he had bumped into was, coincidentally, no stranger.

“Are you alright?”

The low voice echoed in the hallway formed by stone arches.

Song Yeongin forgot to answer for a moment and blinked slowly. He stared blankly up at the man in the perfect suit.

Right there was the same arrogant and nonchalant face that had pretended not to know Song Yeongin just a moment ago.

While on the ground, he propped himself up and looked up at him blankly. Having collapsed to the floor, Song Yeongin was receiving the man’s gaze with his entire body. Those were the first words out of Cha Woojin’s mouth, their first meeting in months.

Cha Woojin was slowly approaching him.

To Song Yeongin, who had fallen and was struggling, unable to get up, Cha Woojin bent his firm and imposing body and held out a hand.

“You get hurt every time we meet.”

When the large man’s hand with its thick knuckles came close to the tip of Song Yeongin’s nose, Song Yeongin realized he was frozen like a fool, unable to even breathe properly.

‘Every time we meet? …So he does remember me.’

Song Yeongin, who had been lying there in a daze, finally realized that he had, quite rudely, not offered a single word of apology as an employee to the customer he had bumped into.

Song Yeongin tried to get up on his own, struggling and grunting, without taking the man’s hand. Cha Woojin gave a faint, awkward smile to Song Yeongin, who was struggling while deliberately ignoring his offered hand. He looked down at Song Yeongin quietly with an impassive gaze.

After managing to struggle to his feet and brush off his bottom, Song Yeongin bowed his head and offered an apology to the man. A look of embarrassment crossed his clear, neat face.

“I am sorry. Are you hurt….”

Song Yeongin’s question was almost pointless. The man in the neat suit looked completely and utterly unharmed, without a single hair out of place. A faint smile rose on his cold, straight-featured face.

“I think I should be the one asking if you are hurt.”

“……”

“It looks like you twisted your ankle when you fell. Are you alright?”

Song Yeongin rotated his own ankle. He had taken the impact on his ankle when he landed on his backside. There was a slight feeling of a sprain, but it was not so bad as to make walking uncomfortable or bothersome.

“I am alright….”

Song Yeongin moved his body to collect his bag, which had flown far away, and the scattered documents.

In the midst of this, his phone began to vibrate urgently again. The name on the phone screen was Manager Kang Miyeon. Only then did he come to his senses about what his original errand, which he had forgotten, was.

With an urgent expression, Song Yeongin began to busily gather the scattered documents and contents back into his bag.

“Excuse me. I must be going….”

Song Yeongin, looking hurried, bowed politely to Cha Woojin again. There was no time to make eye contact, no room to exchange conversation. Song Yeongin picked up his bag again and quickly started walking on his sprained foot.

Until Song Yeongin disappeared, Cha Woojin stood in that spot, just watching the back of Song Yeongin, who was ignoring him and turning away in a hurry. Song Yeongin’s left foot, as it moved away, limped slightly.

Song Yeongin walked without looking back.

This was the man who had not acknowledged him at all when he was seated with Shin Hwayeon. If so, it must have been because of Shin Hwayeon. It must be because he did not want to acknowledge him in front of her.

As he hurried his steps, Song Yeongin was just surprised by the fact that he still remembered him. Encounters with Cha Woojin were always a series of such short and fleeting meetings.

Perhaps he was the only one being swayed by this fleeting connection that was nothing more than a passing brush. This was all because he had had that awful dream.

‘I have no interest in men.’

He recalled Cha Woojin’s final words that had clearly drawn a line with him.

And yet, the fact that he had had such a dream, a dream of being stripped and violated, groaning beneath him, and having a wet dream like an adolescent boy, was unbearably shameful and so humiliating that he wanted to hide.

Until Manager Kang Miyeon let out a deep sigh after sorting out the order just before the deadline, Song Yeongin’s mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of Cha Woojin.

Cha Woojin’s face, as he bent his knees for him when he fell and did not withdraw his outstretched hand until he got up, kept circling in his head.

In that moment when he refused his hand and stood up, the troubled and awkward smile that had fleetingly crossed the face of the man who had been nothing but cold and heartless was, on the contrary, making him feel troubled.

A perfect and well-defined face was prone to causing strange misunderstandings from others even if only the smallest emotion flickered across it. Perhaps that man intentionally wore such a cold-blooded expression to prevent those rich possibilities for misunderstanding. The man’s face, when it held emotion, was terribly suggestive.

From the tips of the man’s fingers as he reached out his hand to his nose when he was on the ground, Song Yeongin could again feel that faint scent. Just like that day he was led to the hideout by his arm, not knowing why… Song Yeongin had almost shamelessly taken the man’s hand again.

🌫️

The sharp chill of midwinter dug into his thin, single-layered coat. After finishing his shift at La Cure, a white puff of breath formed over Song Yeongin’s red lips as he waited for the last train on the platform to go home.

The last train at around 11:59.

In the distant black night, waiting for that last train at the station where the tracks stretched above ground was the end of his daily routine. The cold was now quite severe, and it seemed that enduring the winter with just this thin coat would not be feasible for much longer.

His slender body, meeting the cold wind head-on without even gloves or a muffler, was trembling. To others, he appeared to be carelessly indifferent to the cold.

The chill of the knife-like wind was felt keenly on his face. The tip of his nose was particularly red. Tears, brought on by the cold, welled in his red-rimmed eyes, which were set against his pale skin. Every time a white puff of breath escaped his red lips, his white face, contrasting with the night air, created a strange atmosphere. Passersby glanced at the young man in the thin clothes that exposed his neckline. It was a strange atmosphere that was hard to ignore.

Today had been a truly long day.

Song Yeongin was thinking of the hallway at La Cure where he had bumped into Cha Woojin earlier. The hand he had offered to him when he fell. And at the same time, that indifferent face that had treated him as if he were completely invisible in front of Shin Hwayeon. Song Yeongin could not figure out which was the man’s true self.

He could not even properly meet the eyes of that overwhelming and arrogant man. It was a pitch-black, deep gaze that seemed like it would steal everything away, like the thick darkness settled at the end of those tracks.

The awkward afterimage of Cha Woojin offering a hand to him when he fell muddled his thoughts again. However, there was no need for such worries. He would not have to face that person anymore. As he thought that, the things that had been swelling up began to calmly sink like water.

An announcement played inside the station. A light twinkled at the end of the tracks. The last train was arriving. The train was just about to enter.

An unbelievable apparition formed in the eyes of Song Yeongin, who had been looking at the opposite platform out of habit.

The last train arrived.

With the loud noise of the train entering the station, the doors of the last train opened. Everyone was busily boarding the train to catch the last ride.

However, Song Yeongin could not move his feet and could only stand there blankly. Frozen in place as if he had seen a ghost, he could not take a step.

The man who had violated him in his dream was standing on the opposite platform.

He thought he was seeing things. It might be a delusion. If that man was now appearing not just in his dreams but also as an apparition, it was nothing short of a serious problem. Several times, Song Yeongin hesitated about whether he should board this last train, which he would miss if he did not get on now.

In the end, Song Yeongin did not get on the train.

He wanted to check after this train passed. Whether the thing standing on this opposite side was an apparition of his own making, or the real, actual man.

A considerable amount of time passed, and the last train abruptly left the station. His eyes, which had lost their way and wavered in confusion, were chillingly neat and clear. Song Yeongin sent off the last train and was still standing in the same spot. A pure white breath of air still lingered between his red lips.

The station, where the clamor was instantly silenced after the train disappeared, was extremely quiet and desolate. Now, only two people were left in the station: Song Yeongin and Cha Woojin, who was standing on the opposite platform.

On the opposite side of the platform, a tall man in a long black coat was staring fixedly at Song Yeongin from a distance.

In the place where the last train of the night had passed. Only two people remained in the place everyone had left. The two stood looking at each other across the tracks as if mesmerized. As if only the two of them were left in a world with no one else.

Song Yeongin remained standing in that spot, motionless. He could not quite understand this situation. Why Cha Woojin had followed him all the way to a subway station. He was a man who seemed like he would have never used a subway or public transportation in his life. Yet, for what reason he was now standing on the opposite side of the tracks looking at him was something he could not figure out no matter how much he thought about it.

An unbearably strong, cutting wind blew. Song Yeongin’s bangs scattered in the wind. His beautifully textured eyebrows and his finely sculpted forehead were revealed. At the same time, on the other side of the tracks, the hem of the man’s coat flapped and fluttered in the wind.

Song Yeongin, overwhelmed by the situation, closed his weary eyes. His neat eyelids, frozen by the cold, trembled.

‘I missed the last train, what do I do….’

Song Yeongin opened the eyes he had closed. And he once again stared at the opposite platform where Cha Woojin had been standing. With eyes he had struggled to open, he slowly scanned the other side of the tracks. It might have been an apparition. The man disappeared from Song Yeongin’s sight as if it were a lie.

‘Was I really seeing a hallucination.’

Perhaps he was seeing things because of the overwork from napping day and night for the past few months. Song Yeongin, however, contrary to his thoughts, continued to search frantically with his eyes for the disappeared Cha Woojin.

For a long while, he looked around the quiet platform, searching for the man who had vanished from his sight. And then, it was when he had given up searching.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“You missed the last train.”

Cha Woojin’s low voice echoed across the empty platform where only two people remained.

His face, frozen and numb from the cold, looked utterly stunned, dazed, and bewitched, as if possessed by something.

“…Why… are you here…?”

No emotion could be read from the face of the man who was quietly looking at him. Because those deep, pitch-black eyes were always so steadfast as to consume the darkness. Nothing can be read in the darkness. Only darkness.

The man’s straight lips, with their corners turned up, drew a handsome arc. What words was he hoping would come out of those lips? To say he expected nothing was perhaps hypocrisy.

Cha Woojin took out a notebook of a familiar size and shape from inside his coat.

“I found this where I bumped into you, Song Yeongin.”

“……”

“I want to return it…”

Song Yeongin’s ears, which had been frozen, flushed bright red, so clearly that they were visible even in the darkness.

What the man was holding in his hand was the croquis book he always carried in his bag out of habit. It seemed he had dropped it from his bag along with the documents when he bumped into him earlier.

‘Ah…!’

A gasp almost escaped him.

He suddenly remembered in detail what sorts of things were drawn in that notebook. His heart sank with a thud.

There were countless sketches in the croquis book, but it contained the profile of Cha Woojin that he had to sketch like a madman the day he first saw him, and the back of that man who appeared in his dream and violated him. That obscene, barbaric man’s back….

‘Did he… look inside the notebook?’

As the thought crossed his mind, his pale face, frozen from the cold, flushed bright red, then turned ashen.

Cha Woojin held the notebook out to him, but Song Yeongin did not even stir, as if his breath had stopped. The man’s outstretched hand was about to be left hanging awkwardly.

“For just this….”

“……”

Song Yeongin looked straight up into the man’s eyes. His red lips, frozen by the cold wind, let out a melodious voice.

“For this… you followed me all the way here?”

It was absurd. For just this… just to hand this over, the idea that he had followed him all the way to a subway station like this was truly, utterly nonsensical.

However, there was not a hint of agitation on his confident and arrogant face.

“I suppose so. It seemed like an important item, so I wanted to give it to you.”

“……”

“If not now, there is no telling when I might see you again….”

“……”

“We are not in a relationship where we see each other regularly, are we.”

Muttering this with such bad and cool eyes, Cha Woojin glanced over Song Yeongin in his thin coat.

Song Yeongin accepted the notebook the man held out with his frozen hand. He could only hope that he had not looked through the inside of the notebook in detail, page by page.

“Thank you….”

Thick, bright red lips let out a puff of white breath like smoke. Song Yeongin shivered in the cold. The corners of his eyes were wet and red in the harsh cold.

“Since you missed the last train, I will take you home.”

A firm and solitary voice creates an echo like that in the middle of the quiet night.

Song Yeongin knew it was meaningless to question the reason for Cha Woojin’s utterly incomprehensible behavior. He did not act for a reason; his actions themselves were the reason. He must be a man who had lived with that kind of absolute mindset. Instead of asking for a reason, Song Yeongin shook his head.

“No, it is alright.”

“It is because of me, is it not?”

“…Pardon?”

“The reason you did not take the last train, is it not because of me?”

Song Yeongin was flabbergasted. Technically, it was not an incorrect statement. But it was Cha Woojin who had silently tailed him here in the first place.

If he had intended to return the notebook, it would have been sufficient to leave it at the restaurant when he found it. Song Yeongin once again expressed his refusal.

“There is no need for you to do so.”

Cha Woojin’s eyes were faintly smiling. For what reason was he smiling with such a faint and languid look in his eyes?

The sensual trajectory of the expression on his perfect, statuesque face was heart-achingly sharp and clear even in the darkness. It was impossible to know the man’s inner thoughts.

“You look cold.”

Cha Woojin’s gaze was directed at Song Yeongin’s white, slender neckline, which looked chilly. At his fixed gaze, Song Yeongin felt as if something was burning black. But he could not tell what was burning. These were developments that could only be known after everything had been turned to ash.

“You hurt your ankle, did you not.”

He seemed to be talking about the slight sprain from when they bumped into each other earlier.

“It is no problem at all. It is not so bad that it is uncomfortable to walk.”

Cha Woojin, who was quietly looking down at Song Yeongin in the silence on the tracks late at night, suddenly grabbed Song Yeongin’s wrist.

He could feel the man’s touch completely through the sleeve of that paper-thin, single-layered coat. A flame ignited. A power that made it absolutely impossible to refuse,

“I followed you all the way here using this little notebook as an excuse, so I would appreciate it if you would stop being needlessly stubborn….”

That irresistible, unfair power belongs to Cha Woojin, to that man.