Desires Chapter 2.1 - II. Coldness and Desire (2)

Cha Woojin and Song Yeongin descended the stairs into the subway station.

Park Seongjae, who had been waiting, got out of the car and bowed his head respectfully. The fact that a man who always rode in a top-of-the-line supercar with a chauffeur had followed Song Yeongin all the way to a subway station was, to anyone’s eyes, nothing short of ironic.

“Where should I go.”

He lowered his gaze, which was as hazy as smoke. His low voice, resonating as if to fill the car, was asking Song Yeongin.

“You can drop me off near Hoesong Station.”

It was still a long walk from the station, but Song Yeongin could not even dare to imagine such a magnificent, high-end foreign car pulling up in front of his shabby house, at the entrance to a slum-like hillside neighborhood.

Inside the suffocatingly quiet car. The two men sat side by side in silence.

They passed countless pouring neon signs and flickering city lights with indifference. Just the fact that they were sitting next to each other in a sealed space made him careful, lest the sound of his breath reach the other. He had to hold his breath, afraid that his own breathing might become harsh.

In the dark car, shadows of light slid across the sharp bridge of Cha Woojin’s nose and his jawline, casting plausible shades. Like a scene from a film noir, the light that roamed over the man’s face played back in slow motion.

The music flowing inside the car clearly reflected his refined taste. The songs, whose artists and titles he did not know, enveloped Song Yeongin in waves of restraint and appreciation.

The continuing silence was making Song Yeongin uncomfortable. The feeling of being detained in a place where he should not be. It was Cha Woojin’s voice that broke that harsh silence.

“I did not know that you draw.”

His eyelids, neat and tidy as if tailored, trembled faintly. Song Yeongin remained frozen in place, with a face that looked as if he had been struck a blow.

“I apologize, but I leafed through the notebook.”

Amidst the flickering lights, his clear eyes quivered and shook.

Song Yeongin soon ducked his head low. If he had looked through the drawings in the croquis book, he must have also seen the sketch Song Yeongin had drawn of him.

No, he must have been caught.

Noticing the steep agitation, Cha Woojin quietly reassured the other man.

“Do not worry. I just glanced through it quickly to confirm if the item belonged to you, Mr. Song Yeongin. That is all.”

However, it was no comfort at all. After having carelessly dropped it on the floor himself, he could hardly confront Cha Woojin and ask why he had presumed to peek at someone else’s belongings.

A face flushed red. His plump, clamped lips could not form any words. At Song Yeongin’s uncontrollable wavering, Cha Woojin’s eyes narrowed like a beast that has cornered its prey.

“Your skill was excellent.”

Song Yeongin, who had been looking down, slowly shook his head.

“Not at all…. The things in there were just doodles to kill time.”

“…….”

“I do not draw anymore.”

There was no way to know if Song Yeongin’s answer was a lie or the truth. However, his calm and beautiful voice was imbued with a firm resolve. The man’s jet-black eyes gazed intently at Song Yeongin’s side profile.

Song Yeongin wished for his predicament to be hidden in the darkness. However, the lights pouring onto the road would never allow it.

Leaning back in his seat, Cha Woojin leisurely scanned Song Yeongin’s side profile, which was stained by the city’s red neon. Even though his face was parched, exhausted from fatigue and cold, its elegant and pure atmosphere could not be concealed.

The gazes of the two men, sitting next to each other, became entangled. As their eyes met, Song Yeongin, in his bewilderment, hastily turned his innocent face away.

Cha Woojin simply let out a low laugh, a ‘pfft!’ sound, with a triumphant face. It was a laugh that seemed to hold him by the leash.

He had definitely seen that drawing.

Song Yeongin did not want to be caught for anything else. However, he knew from the moment he first saw him that it was impossible to wear a mask and pretend otherwise. The man, with eyes that pierced through one’s essence and stripped a person bare, rebuked him with those eyes every moment, as if it were breathing. And this moment was no different.

Cha Woojin stared fixedly at Song Yeongin’s red cheeks as he avoided his gaze and spoke. As if with a face that said, you are not the only one who blushes in front of me.

“What a shame. If your doodles are that good, your skill must be top-notch.”

It is not because of this notebook. Cha Woojin knows everything that happens at Achette. So, he had vaguely guessed that Cha Woojin must also know that he had gone to see Yoon Jioh to sell his paintings. He had thought that Cha Woojin surely could not be unaware that the painting he was looking at in the gallery that day was the one he had drawn.

However, at Cha Woojin’s plain reaction, which seemed to contain no falsehood, Song Yeongin began to think that perhaps it had been excessive self-consciousness on his part. There was no way this man would have wanted to know about him in such detail.

His car finally reached the vicinity of their destination, Hoesong Station. However, the car, showing no intention of dropping Song Yeongin off, unexpectedly pulled into a quiet parking area near the station.

Inside the stopped car, Cha Woojin gave a silent nod to Park Seongjae. Upon receiving his superior’s instruction, Park Seongjae opened the car door and got out by himself.

Only Cha Woojin and Song Yeongin were left inside the car.

Song Yeongin, whose eyes had been blinking slowly, raised them and looked at Cha Woojin with a puzzled expression. It was a complete, pitch-black silence, where even the music that had been flowing in the car had vanished.

In his characteristic low, uninflected voice, Cha Woojin began to state the reason he had sought out Song Yeongin. It was a solid voice that seemed as if it could not be broken by anything.

“Matteo might come looking for you.”

It was because an unexpected name had come from his lips. Song Yeongin stared at the man with a deathly pale face. His face, which was so composed even when saying such things, tormenting the other person.

“It would be best to prepare yourself.”

“Me… you mean? How, me….”

Song Yeongin needed a more detailed explanation. A proper, kind, and detailed explanation, not the unkind speech of this man….

Cha Woojin replied nonchalantly.

“As you know, the guy is not in his right mind. He is a vicious psycho who is pathologically obsessed with being rejected.”

“Are you saying he will find me to get revenge?”

“It seems he is hell-bent on finding the disappeared Mr. Song Yeongin.”

A black shadow, like a curtain, swept over his delicate, ashen face. But that was only for a moment.

Song Yeongin soon had the eyes of someone who has transcended, of familiar resignation. That appearance created a particular fragility, as if he might break. Song Yeongin, who had been keeping silent with his plump lips sealed, asked Cha Woojin.

“…Did I do something so… wrong?”

What… was it? Was it refusing and resisting rape? Or was it setting foot in the Jimil?

Strictly speaking, there was nothing that could be called a fault. If Song Yeongin had a fault, it was merely catching Matteo’s eye. That, and only that.

Matteo’s crude lust. His fussy tastes that stemmed from it. If he had not met Matteo’s standards, he would not have had to quit Achette, nor would he have been humiliated in front of his colleagues. If there was a sin, it would be those very precarious and pure eyes asking what wrong he had committed.

Cha Woojin looked at Song Yeongin with steadfast eyes and answered.

“No. You have done nothing wrong, Mr. Song Yeongin.”

Beneath the man’s chillingly cold skin, a very faint warmth resided.

The intelligent eyes that straddled the line between arrogance and justice answered with a voice as firm as a sword. The resolve in that voice made Song Yeongin feel an unusual sense of relief. Although it was a cool and cold voice, Song Yeongin felt a sense of deep comfort from somewhere.

Perhaps Song Yeongin had been desperately wishing for a long time to hear someone say that it was not his fault. Even though, as he had said, they had no dealings with each other, Song Yeongin felt a pang of something hot surging up to the tip of his nose from the absolute power that those words held. The ends of his sorrowful eyes were gradually turning red.

His eyes, which had turned red and trembled faintly, once again met Cha Woojin’s directly. It was the same pitiful gaze as on the day Matteo had shamed Song Yeongin in front of his colleagues, the day he had sought out Cha Woojin’s hideout on his own two feet.

“I even thought about reporting it to the police. Even though I know it is useless….”

Cha Woojin just listened to those words in silence.

“I am no longer a person who has any connection to Achette or the Jimil. Because I do not want to be indebted to anyone….”

“…….”

“I cannot ask Mr. Cha Woojin for help every time something like this happens.”

The well-formed eyebrows of the man, who had been listening quietly to Song Yeongin’s story, twitched. And soon, Cha Woojin let out a low sigh.

“Hah….”

He could not tell what it meant. Whether it was ridicule, a sneer, or disdain. Or if it was… that there was simply nothing to be done.

The man, not giving him even a moment to think, retorted with a voice as sharp as a sword.

“If Matteo finds you and bothers you, contact me here.”

Cha Woojin took out a metallic business card from inside his coat and handed it over. The metal watch on the man’s hand that offered the card gleamed heavily in the darkness along with the card. Song Yeongin accepted the business card that was held at the tip of the man’s long fingers.

Woosung W Director Cha Woojin

Only his clear identity, which needed no explanation, and his contact information were concisely written.

“You are not a fool, so I am sure you know well, Mr. Song Yeongin, but things like law enforcement are useless against Matteo.”

“…….”

“That is why I put you in this car, am warning you, and am telling you to contact me.”

Song Yeongin, who had been holding his breath before Cha Woojin’s steadfastness, suddenly thought. Nothing could ever bring down that absolute man. That must be the reason why everyone so craved, admired, and revered that perfect man.

His neat, limpidly moist eyes silently gazed at the strong and cool-headed man. In the quiet, Song Yeongin blinked his calm eyes slowly several times. It was because of bewilderment.

It might be his own delusion. But, for some reason, he looked as if he was angry. He could not tell what had displeased the man.

‘Why is he paying this much attention to my predicament?’

Everything was incomprehensible. He knew that this man was not so idle as to devote his precious time and pour such consideration on someone like him.

However, if Matteo were to appear before him and try to humiliate and shame him, Song Yeongin would once again think of this man.

He would remember his steadfast eyes. He would remember the moderate justice that was nestled within, disguised as arrogance. He would remember that absolute and resolute voice that said it was not my fault. He would remember the flickering city lights that they passed each other through in their many exchanged glances, and the suffocating air of the car. Even if it were just this man’s trivial prank stemming from a very small bit of pity or sympathy.

🌫️

As if to mock Cha Woojin’s warning, peaceful days continued. The only thing that had shattered the peace and thrown Song Yeongin into chaos was the reunion with Cha Woojin a few days ago. The trembling, the tension, the boiling ecstasy, that cruel aftereffect was still tormenting Song Yeongin.

Song Yeongin caressed the metallic business card with his slender fingertips.

Woosung W Director Cha Woojin

‘If Matteo finds you and bothers you, contact me here.’

In truth, Song Yeongin was not particularly afraid, even if he heard that that scoundrel Matteo was looking for him, or even if he were to appear before him and pull some other despicable stunt.

Even if those venomous, snake-like eyes coveted and defiled his insignificant body. Even if that gnawed him to the bone, brought him down to the very bottom, trampled and ruined him.

The reason he left Achette was less because he was afraid of Matteo and more because he did not want to cause trouble for his colleagues.

Cha Woojin might be surprised if he knew, but it could not even compare to the numerous fears and horrors Song Yeongin had already experienced. It did not matter if he disappeared from the world. However, what Song Yeongin feared were these small things, like a life whose flame was barely lit.

Song Yeongin looked down at the baby sleeping in his arms. He gently rubbed his face against the soft downy hair that still smelled of formula. He listened closely to the sound of Song Yoon’s soft, even breathing.

Everything he feared was within it.

The kind of pleading that seeped into his younger sister’s resentful gaze. Every now and then, memories of running hand-in-hand with his younger sister through the dark hillside neighborhood at night in their childhood would come to mind. To avoid being beaten by their father, they would ride the swings at the empty playground until dawn.

Not having told his mother he loved her more. If not with words, he should have expressed it with gestures. Having been so preoccupied with the base greed and ugly fear directed at him that he had turned a blind eye to his mother’s pain. Not having hugged her more.

The large hand of Cha Woojin that had been extended to him. This business card Cha Woojin handed him, telling him to call….

What made Song Yeongin afraid were not cruel and violent things, but small and weak things whose existence was barely perceptible.

“Yoon must be an angel.”

At Song Yeongin’s warm and gentle way of speaking, which was as kind as his smile, his sister-in-law, Sookyung, smiled and replied.

“I know, right. He does not fuss or cry much. He sleeps so well like this too… I think Yoon recognizes you now, brother-in-law.”

With a still clumsy and awkward touch, Song Yeongin handed the sleeping Yoon in his arms to Sookyung. Although it was a small single room, it was thankfully not difficult to endure the winter. There were no severe drafts or cold spells. However, not a single ray of warm light entered the semi-basement single room, even during the daytime.

“It is all thanks to you, brother-in-law. I wonder if it is okay to just keep receiving your help like this….”

“I am sorry I cannot do more for you.”

He was sincere. If only he could let them enjoy pretty and good things to their heart’s content. He did not have that ability. He did not know if his wish to have them spend the next winter in a warm place where the sun shines well during the day and mold does not grow could come true.

“Sometimes, on my days off, I will watch Song Yoon. You should get some air and go out too.”

“Where would I have to go out…. I have no one to meet. I do not have friends anymore.”

“Still, you get tired watching a child all day.”

Sookyung made an expression that was neither smiling nor crying.

“I think the angel is you, brother-in-law, not Yoon…. Thank you. And, I am sorry.”

Song Yeongin thought she was still too young to be going through such hardship. She was still young and had a long life ahead of her to live in memory of her dead husband. Traces of youth and girlishness still remained on Sookyung’s face. She deserved to meet a better person, dream of a future, and be happy.

He knows. For his sister-in-law and Yoon to be happy, he must not become a hindrance.

“Sister-in-law, it is cold. Do not come out.”

Despite Song Yeongin’s cry trying to stop her, she came out to see him off to the front gate in her socks, holding a just-awakened Song Yoon.

“I will raise him well….”

Sookyung’s calmly uttered words struck his heart. His eyes suddenly reddened. But instead of tears, Song Yeongin put on a bright smile.

He waved his hand at the two who had grown distant. The reason he had to work. The reason he was not tired even while sleeping in fragmented bits of time. The reason he had to act as a proper human being, even if no one acknowledged it. Countless reasons rushed in like a tidal wave.

🌫️

Today was La Cure’s one day off a week. He was on his way back from his sister-in-law’s house after seeing Song Yoon to check on them during the day.

When Song Yeongin climbed the hill and reached his own house, a flashy, high-end foreign car, which felt out of place and created a sense of dissonance in the alleyway of the crumbling, shabby, poor neighborhood, was parked at the entrance in front of his house.

An ominous aura emanated from the car. The thing, exuding ostentation, felt like a vanity that was the opposite of Cha Woojin. When a large, burly man who looked like a subordinate opened the door, a familiar face popped out.

“Well, look at this, you are not even surprised?”

Cha Woojin had definitely warned him.

Matteo. That he would eventually come looking for him.

“It is truly amazing that people can live in a place like this. How tenacious human life is….”

“…….”

“Anyway, it is more tenacious than a cockroach. That thing called poverty, I mean.”

The one waiting for Song Yeongin in front of his house was Matteo. His sanpaku eyes, still lacking a clear focus, were staring at Song Yeongin unpleasantly.

“Seeing your face is like plucking a star from the sky….”

“…….”

“That it should be this hard to see that high-and-mighty pretty face.”

It was just as Cha Woojin had said. Somehow, Matteo had scoured even this remote hillside neighborhood to find him. Song Yeongin, without any reply, was looking at the luxury foreign car blocking the entrance to his shabby house. It seemed as if it had been deliberately parked to block the alley so he could not enter.

“Fuck, why are you not surprised?! Try to look more terrified. I need to feel some satisfaction for coming all the way here too.”

He would absolutely not give that bastard what he wanted. For the most part, base things feed on fear and terror.

“Please move. I need to go into my house, but you are blocking the way so I cannot get in.”

Matteo slowly walked towards Song Yeongin. Matteo pressed his greasy face towards Song Yeongin’s unusually transcendent and clear face.

Matteo, who had told him to look surprised so he could feel some satisfaction, had already been feeling the satisfaction of having gone to so much trouble to find this kid from the moment he got out of the car and saw that prim face.

‘That is right, he is a pure beauty that is a shame to let go.’

Matteo asked Song Yeongin with his murky and sinister eyes.

“…What the hell is your identity?”

His unusually straight and neat eyes stared quietly at Matteo.

“The lengths I fucking went to, poking around everywhere to find a poor bastard like you…. At first, it was curiosity, but then it became a matter of stubborn pride…. I interrogated Yoon Jioh, but he just played dumb.”

“…….”

“My old man was a prosecutor general, so if anyone’s an expert at digging up people’s personal information, it is me… but how could it be so fucking hard to find someone like you?!”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“…Who is it?”

Unable to grasp the true meaning of those words, Song Yeongin narrowed his brow and opened his eyes slightly.

“Isn’t someone already backing you? Who the hell is it….”

“…….”

“Who have you latched onto, that your trail is hidden as if your identity was deliberately concealed? …Wasn’t it set up on purpose?! So no one could find you….”

Song Yeongin’s pupils wavered.

The only person he could think of upon hearing those words was Cha Woojin. However, Song Yeongin did not reveal his guess. He just asked Matteo with cold and transcendent eyes.

“…Why are you doing this to me?”

Matteo laughed.

“As you said, I am just a poor wretch who has tenaciously survived like a cockroach… is there really a need for you to go this far with me?”

“…….”

“What is it that you want from me, exactly?”

Matteo came closer and closer to Song Yeongin.

“Pretty thing, think carefully…. Aren’t you sick of this miserable poverty?”

The man came so close that his nose was almost touching him, but Song Yeongin neither stepped back nor even flinched.

“Tsk tsk…. If you just spread your legs for me and act a little coy, I would take good care of you with this and that as a little bonus….”

Suddenly, the burly man who looked like a subordinate approached Matteo and began to whisper something, reporting to him.

“Ah, fuck…! Did the old geezer bug me or something, why does he only look for me at fucking times like this?! Huh?!”

Wondering what on earth he was doing, Song Yeongin let out a deep sigh in front of that ruffian’s face.

“Honestly, if I were a real scoundrel, I could just quietly shove you in a car, lock you up somewhere, and have my fun. I mean, if you resist to the very end, it is not like I could not do that.”

“…….”

“But here is the thing…. I have had a bit of a change of heart. So, I will give you time to choose. There is only one answer, but would it not be a win-win for both of us if you chose to walk in on your own two feet…? Legally, of course….”

Song Yeongin did not reply and just snorted in the man’s face as if it were absurd.

“Now that I know about this shabby, crumbling hovel, you will not be able to run off somewhere again, right?”

“…….”

“It is about time you understood. That wherever you go, you are in the palm of my hand…. Now, if I plant one of my men here, I will get a perfect estimate of what you do all day long.”

Song Yeongin glared at Matteo with a look of extreme contempt. However, whether it was contempt or disillusionment, in Matteo’s eyes, the more expressions that crossed that damn desirable face, the more craftily it seemed to be provoking him.

What Matteo had been thinking while secretly tailing the unseen Song Yeongin was that it would be better if that kid made the choice himself and walked in on his own two feet.

Rather than raping and forcibly subjugating him, Matteo wanted to see that kid shake his own ass and beg him for money. Then, he felt he could shove whatever he wanted into that hole, be it the price of a house or tuition for studying abroad.

To that extent, Matteo wanted to see that face, as sacred and noble as an angel’s, come to him of its own accord, begging and clinging to him.

He could no longer tell if he wanted that tender body or if he truly desired the desperate pleas of that kid clinging to him in desperation. Seeing that pretty face after a long time, he started to think that perhaps he himself was becoming sincere.

“Hey…, what is there in the Republic of Korea that money cannot buy?! So, think about it carefully. A chance to properly fix your fate…. I am telling you I will give you everything you want.”

Just as he said, Matteo legally threatened Song Yeongin. He did not inflict any harm. And so, he could not judge whether he should report this to Cha Woojin or not.

Song Yeongin quietly caressed Cha Woojin’s business card in his coat pocket. Every time the cold, metallic material touched his fingertips, he remembered those cold and sharp eyes, that resolute and absolute voice.

‘No. You have done nothing wrong, Mr. Song Yeongin.’

It is not my fault.

It was a tremendous relief. That day, not taking the last train and just letting it go. Not leaving, but waiting for him in that spot….

Because he was able to hear those precious words, that this was not my fault, through that man’s lips.

🌫️

Cha Woojin’s private residence was full of empty space. The room most densely packed with personal belongings was the study.

Collecting old books from various countries was one of Cha Woojin’s long-standing hobbies. Deciphering ancient documents was an area of interest for him, but it was impossible to fully understand their meaning. It was just that the smell of old paper and the condensed years embedded within it gave a small, albeit faint, help in suppressing Cha Woojin’s weary mind.

Cha Woojin’s vast study gave the impression of a nameless, foreign library filled to the ceiling with all sorts of old books.

His large, solid frame was laid down, as if familiar, on the shape-memory chair that moved according to the body’s form and skeleton, and Cha Woojin closed his eyes.

Cha Woojin, who had been suffering from overwork for several days, still in his shirt with his tie loosened, picked up a book within arm’s reach. It was an old art book of famous paintings.

The book in this vast study that his hands reached for the most was this old, worn-out art book he had received as a gift from his maternal grandfather, Kang Hoeryeong, in his childhood.

His grandfather, a godfather of the culture and arts world who had sponsored the artistic activities of independence activists, had gifted the young Cha Woojin these aged old books and famous paintings instead of dazzling toys.

From a certain point on, whenever he turned the pages of this art book, Cha Woojin strangely thought of that kid. The elegant and transcendent light dwelling in the delicate and clean lines resembled these famous paintings that had captivated his gaze, lost in thought, during his own childhood.

Cha Woojin was suddenly reminded of Song Yeongin’s notebook that he had leafed through that day. No, to be precise, what he recalled was the very page where Cha Woojin himself had been drawn.

He had no intention of looking closely. Peeking into others’ secrets was now a kind of torture for him. He also had no hobby of voyeurism.

It was just that, the moment he skimmed the notebook to identify the item Song Yeongin had dropped, Cha Woojin could not take his eyes off the sketch of his own side profile. A delicate and lyrical style. But, for some reason, he thought it was blatant and bold.

Was he looking at me with these kinds of eyes?

The drawing, like Song Yeongin himself, was composed of neat, restrained, clean lines and delicate touches. However, in stark contrast, the drawing of Cha Woojin could not erase the feeling of being somewhat sensual and suggestive.

It did not matter in what sense Song Yeongin had drawn this. Cha Woojin recalled his first encounter with Song Yeongin at the gallery that day. The precarious, almost shattering, unsettling gaze and that suffocating silence.

Cha Woojin placed the art book, spread open, over his eyes that were languidly soaked in fatigue, covering them.

Yoon Jioh, that tradesman who only cares for his own profit, had not told him something. Thinking that this was Yoon Jioh’s plan and scheme, Cha Woojin felt a subtle, hollow feeling rise up the back of his neck.

The sensor announcing an intruder in the vast study went off. On the monitor, the figure of Park Seongjae standing in front of the study was displayed. As Cha Woojin, leaning back in his chair without a stir, murmured in a low voice, the entrance door, recognizing his voice, opened automatically.

“I have prepared the documents you mentioned. Executive Director Cha Seokhyeon is also scheduled to attend the meeting.”

“Prepare it perfectly. He is a master at finding fault.”

“Yes. And…, about Mr. Song Yeongin.”

Park Seongjae broached the subject to his superior, who was leaning against the chair without moving, with the old book placed over his face.

“Despite taking measures, it seems Matteo has finally found out Mr. Song Yeongin’s whereabouts.”

Cha Woojin showed no particular reaction to Park Seongjae’s report.

“Matteo visited Mr. Song Yeongin’s house during the daytime. We could not hear the conversation, but it appears there was no particular conflict.”

Only then did Cha Woojin roughly sweep away the old art book covering his eyes with one hand. In his jet-black eyes, which had relaxed just before slumber was about to take over, a strange murderous glint resided.

“Plant someone and keep an eye on his whereabouts.”

Even though I gave him such a warning.

Cha Woojin had gone himself and placed his own contact information into the hands of that clueless kid. There was no surer way than that. He had done it as if spoon-feeding a child, so from Cha Woojin’s perspective, there could be no greater consideration than this.

In the end, Matteo had found out Song Yeongin’s whereabouts and went to him. But Song Yeongin did not make any contact with Cha Woojin. Even if he had the will to help, it was useless if Song Yeongin did not ask him for help. That kid was not just clueless….

“He is fearless, it seems.”

🌫️

After hesitating for a good while, Song Yeongin’s fingertips ultimately failed to press the call button, and he put his phone back in his pocket.

He had given him this number, telling him to call if Matteo acted bothersome, but Song Yeongin still had to censor himself, wondering if he was not, in fact, bothering Cha Woojin.

The fact that Matteo had found his house brought a vague sense of anxiety, but it was not as if Matteo had taken any action or caused him any harm. It was true that he had threatened him, but in his judgment, it could not be called a big enough deal to report to Cha Woojin for every little thing.

He could not make a fuss to an uninvolved person every time Matteo appeared, as if he had seen a ghost. It was a miserable thing for a grown adult male to have to request rescue from another because he could not take care of his own body. That was not something to brag about over the phone.

If, Matteo were to appear once more and cause a disturbance, not at his house, but at his workplace, he thought he would definitely have to ask Cha Woojin for help then.

The hand of help Cha Woojin had extended to him had the meaning of a wild card that Song Yeongin could only use one last time. So he thought of it as a final bastion that he had to save for a moment when it was absolutely necessary.

As he had said, it was not as if he could appear and rescue him every single moment, was it?

As Song Yeongin was preparing for opening, his colleagues, the hall servers at La Cure, gathered around in twos and threes.

“That man who came with Shin Hwayeon….”

“The manager took the order, and it was you, Mr. Song Yeongin, who served the private room that day, wasn’t it? A different man, not those two, paid the bill… and the two of them secretly slipped out of here.”

Jiwon stopped Song Yeongin, who was about to turn away.

“Mr. Yeongin, you went into Ms. Shin Hwayeon’s room that day, right?”

“Yes….”

“The manager definitely put you in there on purpose, I am telling you! Because of your face, Mr. Song Yeongin….”

“They said the man who accompanied Shin Hwayeon was that handsome?”

“…….”

“It is true. That man stood out more than the actress Shin Hwayeon, I am telling you. In fact, Shin Hwayeon was almost overshadowed…. I have never seen a man who looked like that before. His aura was no joke. He was incredibly tall, and had a great body. And, crucially, he looked like he was incredibly rich…. Right? Please answer. Mr. Yeongin.”

Jiwon, the witness from that day, sought Song Yeongin’s agreement again.

“What was the atmosphere like between the two? Did they look like they were lovers meeting each other?”

Song Yeongin was at a loss for words.

“Well, I am not really sure….”

As if frustrated, Jiwon cut off Song Yeongin’s words.

“If a handsome man and a beautiful woman came to a restaurant with such a great atmosphere just the two of them, isn’t it obvious? They came on a date because they are dating, what else….”

The fact that wherever he went, that man became the main character in a single glance did not change. Attracting others’ attention must be an innate nature. At every moment, through the mouths of others, Song Yeongin was thoroughly realizing that he was the center of conversation everywhere, an unattainable, unrealistic being.

However, Song Yeongin did not want to give them any answer. He did not want to say that they seemed like lovers, nor that they seemed to have come on a date.

The moment he admitted it with his own mouth, he felt as if he would have to completely erase the three-syllable name, Cha Woojin, from within himself.

It felt as if he would never again be able to make that one last phone call asking for help from Matteo. It felt as if everything would vanish futilely, like that harsh dream he had last night.

He had known all along but had ignored it until now. Cha Woojin had told him bluntly that he had no interest in pederasty. Not only had he been seen with Shin Hwayeon in front of him several times, but there was no reason whatsoever for him to help him. The moment he asked him for help, he would just be reduced to a mere nuisance.

The reason he could not press the call button until the very end. The reasons he could not brazenly call and ask for help were too numerous to count.