With a knowing smile, Lee Seok-jung disappeared into the distance. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes before a sleek black sports car came to an aggressive stop right in front of Haewon, drawing the eyes of everyone nearby. It was the same model Kim Jaemin used to drive whenever he came to Korea.

Haewon didn’t like that car. You had to practically sink into the floor just to get in, and when getting out, it took effort and groaning to pull yourself free. It was a car designed purely for speed, so the interior space was tight. Sitting inside made him feel trapped—he hated that feeling even more.

With a small sigh, Haewon got in. The moment Seok-jung pressed the accelerator, his torso was thrown back. Considering he was Woojin’s friend, he had to be around Woojin’s age, but their temperaments were so different that Haewon frowned in displeasure.

It wasn’t until he’d been sitting in the car for quite a while that Haewon realized—he hadn’t brought his wallet or his phone. Less than five minutes later, they arrived at the convenience store Seok-jung had said would take about ten minutes by car. It was a small, single-story building glowing alone at the side of the road.

"Go ahead and get what you need. I’ll take you back to the hotel."

"..."

"You’re not getting out? Ah, right—I’m supposed to run the errand for you. Is that it? Can’t possibly trouble yourself to move, right?"

"It’s not that. Can I borrow ten thousand—no, twenty thousand won? I didn’t bring my wallet."

Haewon held out his hand. The man looked at the offered palm in disbelief, then pulled out his wallet from inside his jacket.

"I don’t carry cash."

"Then give me a card. I’ll just use twenty thousand."

He selected a card from the ones packed into his wallet and handed it over. It was a black card—one of the same kind Haewon’s father had once given him. Haewon took it and got out of the car.

Inside the convenience store, he bought chips, drinks, bread, ramen, fish cakes, sausages—things Woojin might want to eat when he woke up. He made a round through the aisles, picking up everything he needed, and finally grabbed a big tub of ice cream.

He only meant to spend twenty thousand, and that amount was more than enough for convenience store shopping—but the total came out over thirty thousand. Haewon left the store with the bag in hand and got back into the car, returning the card.

"I meant to use just twenty thousand, but it ended up being thirty. I’ll give you the rest at the hotel."

"You don’t have to. You’re Woojin’s cousin—buying you a few snacks is the least I can do."

"Fine, whatever."

Seok-jung slipped the card back into his wallet and pulled out a rectangular slip of paper—a business card. Haewon looked between the card he held out and the man himself. When he extended his hand again, Haewon accepted it. It read: Lee Seok-jung, CEO of K-One Construction.

"If you feel bad, here’s my number. Pay me back later."

"I don’t feel bad."

"That card has my direct line. I don’t give it out to just anyone."

"..."

Haewon glanced at the card out of politeness and tucked it into the bag with the snacks and ice cream.

"I gave you my card, and you won’t even tell me your name? That Gold Leaf logo’s actual gold, you know."

He was referring to the gold foil emblem of the K-One Group embossed on the card. Haewon fished through the bag, peeled the card off the condensation on the ice cream tub, and handed it back.

"Just kidding."

Woojin was still asleep on the bed. They’d shared more than just a physical encounter—one that had left them tangled in the rawest intimacy—but now another man was hovering around Haewon, name-dropping Woojin, and it unsettled him.

When Seok-jung didn’t take the card, Haewon dropped it back into the bag.

"Take me back to the hotel."

"Of course I will."

Seok-jung turned the car around. A car like his would stand out even more in a rural area like this—it retraced the road back to the hotel.

"Ah, if I’d known Woojin had such a cute cousin, I’d have treated you better. I’m usually great with the people Woojin brings around."

"..."

"What was his name again? Taeshin? I treated that guy really well, too. Bought his work. Paid a fortune."

"You’re the one who took Taeshin somewhere? Where to... one of those regular group meetings?"

"A regular meeting? Is that what Prosecutor Hyun told you?"

His gaze gleamed with a base, material shine. Glancing at Haewon, he then looked ahead again. The car sped down the road, the hotel now visible in the distance—only a few floors lit.

"You really took Taeshin there?"

"I brought him. Sometimes we bring non-members. Why, you want to go? I could take you."

"..."

Woojin had said it was a regular gathering with friends. That Haewon couldn’t go. And yet he’d taken Taeshin.

Taeshin had said Woojin was sincere, kind, and affectionate. And Haewon had believed those words were true.

There’d been no reason for Taeshin to lie using Woojin’s name. Haewon hadn’t even known who he was. Hadn’t thought he was real.

Woojin had treated Haewon coldly, said it was to break his bad habits—and yet he’d been so kind to Taeshin. Kind enough to introduce him to his friends... Had they been that close at the time?

Haewon, suddenly, felt an intense jealousy toward Taeshin, who no longer existed in this world. His chest flared with heat. He bit his lip hard. He had once felt pity for the dead boy—but not anymore. Now he was envious. And resentful.

"If you want, I’ll take you. Woojin’s got no manners. Can’t believe he won’t even bring his own cousin when he knows you want to go. Why’s he gotta live like such a shut-in?"

"Do you have to pay to join that group?"

"No, it’s not like that... Two members have to recommend you, and then everyone else has to unanimously agree."

"Everyone?"

Even if he managed to get two recommendations, unanimous approval meant there was no way Woojin would agree. It was impossible.

"You want in?"

"...Not really."

"You’d need a lot of money."

He scratched his nose, sounding vaguely troubled.

"How much?"

"Mm... someone like me, at least."

"And what’s ‘someone like you’?"

"You don’t know K-One? The chairman is my grandfather."

"Okay, and what does that mean exactly?"

"You’d have to be in the top tier of the business world. Like, fingers-on-one-hand top."

The Kyungwon Group, run by Taeshin’s father, had also been one of the top conglomerates.

Was that how Taeshin had been allowed into the group?

"...But Woojin’s not chaebol."

"Woojin’s loaded. You didn’t know? Not all our members are chaebol, either. I can’t give you the details, though."

"..."

"That bastard hides a lot. Deliberately uses cheap cars and cheap watches. Doesn’t he?"

Seok-jung smiled meaningfully. On his left wrist was a watch so expensive it couldn’t be priced.

He parked in front of the hotel lobby.

"When should we meet again and trash-talk Woojin? I probably know him better than you do. His cousin seems to know even less."

"..."

Haewon didn’t respond. He gave a slight nod to the man staring at him, then got out of the car. Seok-jung’s car sped away.

Passing through the lobby, Haewon glanced again at Taeshin’s sculpture in the corner. They had said he fell in with the wrong crowd. That he got involved in something illegal. That his so-called "friends" were behind it. That Woojin had brought him there. That Woojin had told both Haewon and Taeshin the same things. Used the same words—and then their relationships had deepened just as naturally.

And that winter, Taeshin died.

The day after heavy snow.

It was suicide.

Woojin was still lying on the bed, fast asleep. Haewon sat down at the bedside. He lightly touched Woojin’s bare shoulder. Woojin flinched and opened his eyes. His expression, shaded with fatigue, scrunched as he pushed his torso up.

The bed was a mess—still marked by the traces of what they had done.

"Aren’t you hungry?"

"...What time is it?"

Meeting Lee Seok-jung so unexpectedly in a place like this had shaken Woojin enough that he considered switching hotels. But after confirming that Seok-jung’s car had already left the parking lot, his body finally, unconsciously, relaxed.

Except for a few workers, the hotel was empty. Isolated and far away—being alone with Haewon in a place like this, apart from the world, was the kind of distance and disconnect Woojin was used to. It was familiar, comfortable—as comforting as the things he never let himself replace.

"Nine o’clock."

It was already pitch dark outside. Woojin looked out the black window, exhaling deeply like a sigh, and swept back his disheveled hair. Then he wrapped his arms around Haewon’s waist and pulled him back down onto the bed. The soft scent clinging to Haewon’s skin rode on Woojin’s breath and flowed into his body, brushing past his internal organs.

"Want to go out and eat something nice?"

"I bought ramen and a bunch of snacks. Let’s eat that."

"You went out alone?"

As Woojin rubbed under Haewon’s eyes, where drowsiness still lingered, he lifted his head.

"I just went to the convenience store."

"Where’s the convenience store?"

"Took a taxi."

"......"

"Get up. I’m hungry."

Haewon pushed against Woojin’s shoulder, shifting the weight leaning on him and sitting up.

They ate the ramen—something Woojin had once called trash food and said he hated. But when you’re hungry, even something you don’t normally eat can taste incredible.

After half-filling their stomachs, they left the suite. They walked along the coastal road that wrapped around the hotel, catching the wind from the night sea. The breeze drifting in from the pine forest was cool and fresh.

Haewon realized he’d never really walked anywhere with Woojin before.

He was always busy. He’d come to Haewon’s officetel at night and leave by morning. When he said he’d take Haewon somewhere good to eat, it meant room service in a hotel or a private space in a partitioned restaurant.

If they met outside, it was inside a car. Even on trips, it was always to a secluded pool villa. Haewon had never once felt the gaze or interference of others while being with Woojin. He couldn’t even remember a time they had walked together in an open space like this.

He hid Haewon away from the world—kept him invisible. And yet he’d taken Taeshin to meet the friends he supposedly valued.

"......"

Haewon glanced over at Woojin walking beside him, dressed differently from usual—hair down, relaxed clothes, an unguarded expression.

"Cold?"

"No."

Woojin asked when he caught Haewon looking at him. Haewon shook his head.

They were walking a little apart when Woojin reached out and grabbed Haewon’s hand. His fingers, with their pronounced knuckles, laced between Haewon’s. It was something he could do only because there was no one around. He had introduced Taeshin to his friends—but with Haewon, he had lied and said he was just a cousin.

"Actually, earlier..."

"Hm?"

Haewon hesitated as Woojin turned to him. He didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere. If he said it out loud, he’d spew all the petty inferiority and resentment he felt toward a friend who had been too weak to go on. Haewon shook his head.

"Actually, what?"

"When you told your friend I was your cousin—it made me feel shitty. Why’d you have to say I was your cousin?"

"What do you expect me to say when I’m walking into a hotel with a guy who looks way younger than me?"

"Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your friends?"

"......What?"

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"Ashamed? What are you talking about?"

"Is it embarrassing to show me to your friends?"

"That guy’s not even my friend."

"So you're ashamed of me?"

"It’s not that. I just don’t want to show you."

"That means you are ashamed. You don’t want to show me because you’re ashamed."

Haewon knew he was being childish. He tried to shake off Woojin’s firm grip, hoping he’d let go. But the more he pulled, the tighter Woojin’s grip became. His fingers dug in so hard that red marks appeared across the back of Haewon’s hand.

"You’re hurting me."

"That’s because you’re trying to escape. Stay still."

When Haewon stopped fidgeting, Woojin’s grip loosened. His warmth wrapped around Haewon’s hand gently now.

"You are ashamed of me, aren’t you?"

"Are you seriously going to keep talking nonsense?"

"You won’t even introduce me properly to your friends."

"I said, that guy isn’t my friend."

"If he’s in your regular friend group, he’s a friend. What else would he be?"

"You think I’d be crazy enough to introduce you to trash like that? Don’t even go near him. He’s filthy."

He said it like he didn’t even want to remember the guy’s face, spitting the words with clear disgust.

He must really despise him. So much so that the idea of showing Haewon to someone like that felt revolting to him.

His words and actions always left Haewon confused.

He’d make him feel hurt, then make him feel like the happiest person in the world. He’d piss him off, make him cry...

Woojin was completely unreadable. Haewon had long since given up trying to understand him. There was no use thinking it over—no amount of thinking would stop the way he felt.

"What the hell is that? ‘He’s not my friend.’"

"Because he’s not."

"......So are you never going to introduce me to your friends? I’m just going to be your cousin forever?"

"In front of other people, yeah—you’re my cousin. No one else can touch you."

"......"

"I told you, didn’t I? Anyone who lays a finger on you—whoever they are—I’ll kill them. And I’ll wipe out their whole damn family. With everything I’ve got."

"Total family extermination, huh?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

He wrinkled his face like he was thinking of something disgusting—and somehow, Haewon got the feeling he meant every word.

Hearing that Woojin had taken Taeshin to one of those meetings made Haewon feel deeply humiliated.

It was a twisted inferiority complex, born from someone he used to look down on. And it was jealousy—jealousy over the sincerity Woojin had given to Taeshin.

He didn’t want to know where Woojin’s heart truly lay. Haewon hated that Woojin could make him feel this dirty, messy kind of emotion. He hated Taeshin, who was dead now. And he hated himself for feeling this way.

He was sinking into that despair when Woojin spoke—saying he hid Haewon away not because he was ashamed, but because he didn’t want anyone else even seeing him. Because he didn’t want filth to touch him.

All that bitterness melted away like snow in spring.

He said he only wanted to look at him. Only wanted to have him.

He didn’t even want others to see him.

A petty but undeniable sense of relief washed over him.

"On that note, I’d really prefer if you quit tennis lessons. Do something else instead."

"Tennis? Why?"

"I don’t like your coach."

"You don’t even know him."

"You told me about him. Some ex-national athlete, whatever."

"Oh, that. He’s good. My serves are way sharper now thanks to him."

Haewon mimed swinging a racket into the air. The motion made his body shift, and [N O V E L I G H T] the arm he was holding with Woojin bobbed up and down.

"I don’t want to picture you and some guy panting together on the court for an hour."

"You talk like you’ve seen it. What, should I just stay locked in my apartment? Want me to quit violin lessons too? Quit the orchestra?"

"Would you?"

Woojin asked with a delighted tone, as if Haewon had finally said something he liked. Haewon let out a dry laugh.

"You want me to only perform for you?"

"Wow. For once, you’re actually getting it. I thought your ears were blocked."

Haewon stopped walking and looked at him flatly. Woojin also came to a stop.

Haewon’s eyes fell on the hand Woojin had tucked into his pants pocket. On his wrist was a sturdy, mid-range watch from a brand known for practicality.

That chaebol heir had said Woojin was filthy rich. If someone like him thought so, then Woojin must be wealthier than Haewon had ever imagined.

Sure, he came from a long-established family of doctors, so he couldn’t be poor—but if Seok-jung said it like that, it meant Woojin’s wealth was far beyond anything Haewon had assumed.

Was he hiding it on purpose? Or did he just not feel the need to flaunt it?

He didn’t wear watches worth more than an apartment. He didn’t drive attention-grabbing cars. But even standing still, he radiated presence. To Haewon, it was Seok-jung who looked like a lackey—not Woojin.

Woojin didn’t need flashy accessories to cover for an empty inside. Even when he stood before Haewon completely naked, he never lost his composure. Even in moments of raw desire, his eyes shone with a sharp intelligence untouched by regret.

Haewon found himself staring.

Those eyes that sometimes felt cold as ice or sharp as glass—tonight, they just looked lovely.

At first, Woojin’s tall frame and handsome face had come across as intimidating—his intellect too sharp, too suffocating. But now, Haewon could see the affectionate, even cute little things hidden underneath, just for him. Every one of them felt vivid. And every one of them was lovable.

As Haewon stared in silence, Woojin frowned, annoyed again.

"What now?"

Even with that irritating expression...

Haewon grabbed him by the collar. He yanked him in close. Woojin stumbled forward—just in time for Haewon to slam their lips together.

The wind, soaked with the dampness of the sea, swept past them, brushing the napes of their necks like a single shadow.