I quietly met Yoon Jooho’s serious gaze. It was hard to tell whether he was seriously acting or genuinely serious.
“Are you serious or what? Don’t waste your acting skills on something weird.”
As Song Hyunsoo tried to laugh it off, Yoon Jooho firmly grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.
“Honestly, neither of us is actually gay.”
“……”
“Our jobs are pretty unusual, too.”
“……”
“I’m saying this isn’t something I started with a casual mind just to meet once.”
That made sense. He was someone for whom acting was everything. If their relationship ever got exposed, the risk he’d have to handle would be enormous.
There was no way he’d propose dating without calculating that.
The fact that Yoon Jooho had reached out to him even after considering all that felt significant.
“Alright, alright. I’m not taking it lightly either.”
He rubbed the tip of his nose in embarrassed shyness and looked away. Realizing that he was the prince’s partner made it feel all the more real, and sweat gathered in his tightly clasped palms.
“But still, can’t you tell just one acquaintance?”
“No. That one is the start. No exceptions.”
“When I get pissed off because of you, I need at least one person to talk to about dating.”
“There’s Seohae hyung.”
“Seohae hyung is your acquaintance.”
“But he’s on your side.”
“He’s on the side of justice, I guess.”
“If you’re justice, then what am I?”
“Are you asking because you don’t know? Obviously the villain.”
“Then why are you dating such a villain?”
Yoon Jooho gave Song Hyunsoo’s shoulder a light shove with his own. The playful force made Song Hyunsoo’s body tilt to the right for a moment.
Yoon Jooho pulled the hand he’d been holding to steady him.
“Guess I’m the type to be drawn to bad guys.”
Though he replied gruffly, a twitch appeared at the corner of Song Hyunsoo’s mouth. Every time the topic of having a boyfriend came up, a smile kept slipping out, and it embarrassed him.
Yoon Jooho, releasing the sweat-moistened hand, rested his forehead on the edge of Song Hyunsoo’s shoulder.
“I think I was vulnerable to you from the start in my own way.”
“You’re sulking because I’m a bad guy?”
“Is there anyone who wants to be a bad guy to someone they like?”
“……”
Yoon Jooho dropped heavy words in an ordinary tone one after another. Having no resistance, Song Hyunsoo rubbed his palms on his pants and quickly changed the subject.
“It’s not just dating… we’re going to live together now. What do you say to your acquaintance about where you live? Whatever you say is a lie.”
“……”
Leaning on Song Hyunsoo’s shoulder, Yoon Jooho remained silent for a moment before looking up and meeting his eyes.
When he looked at him like this, he couldn’t help but appreciate the pure aesthetic perfection of that mask.
It felt like understanding why the wealthy bought paintings worth tens or hundreds of millions and hung them at home.
“You.”
“……”
“If I…”
“What is it? Why are you trying to scare me like that?”
Unlike usual, Yoon Jooho hesitated for a moment, then suddenly shook his head and stood up. He approached the audio player on the dresser and spoke.
“You said you want to tell Jeongho, right? Tell him.”
“Jeongho?”
“You said you want to tell at least one person. Is he someone you can trust?”
“He’s trustworthy, but… isn’t your acquaintance way more reliable than Jeongho?”
Yoon Jooho unplugged the audio left behind by Choi Hongseo.
“Not to me.”
His voice was so indifferent it made Song Hyunsoo’s heart sink.
For the first time, he thought maybe the reason the two were so tense was something heavier than expected.
He had thought Yoon Jooho was just stubbornly enduring out of pride after getting upset over a trivial matter.
Yoon Jooho, tucking the small audio player under his coat, turned to face him.
“Have you packed all your stuff?”
“Well… I think this much is enough for now.”
Yoon Jooho came closer to Song Hyunsoo, who was sitting dazed on the mattress, and reached out his hand.
“Get up. You have to go home.”
The night he brought Monroe, he remembered whispering while holding him in his arms.
‘Let’s go. Let’s go home.’
That night, he had envied Monroe. The words ‘going home’ or ‘go home’ carried a warmth impossible to contain.
He had spent the past year—the most hardworking and honest year of his life—in this rooftop room. He had made memories here with Jeongho and Chaeyoung.
Not long ago, this was even the historic place where he had his first sexual encounter with Yoon Jooho.
Still, hearing Yoon Jooho say “let’s go home” made it feel like his real home was Yoon Jooho’s place, not this one.
Not because of the huge duplex layout or the Han River View in their super luxury mansion in Cheongdam-dong.
But because instead of watching YouTube alone with his phone propped up and eating instant noodles, they argued over trivial things, cooked meals together, took care of Monroe’s food and snacks, and cleaned out the litter box…
Living together with Yoon Jooho as a boyfriend. No longer just a ‘sex partner’ defined by anything else.
He tightly grabbed the hand of Yoon Jooho, who had been silently watching him. Relying on the pull, Song Hyunsoo stood up smoothly.
■
When Song Hyunsoo first met Jeong Ji-in, he was bitterly resentful toward everything in the world. Looking back now, it was like a timid dog barking loudly.
The only person Song Hyunsoo could truly open up to was Choi Hongseo.
Though in far worse situations, Hongseo never complained and held onto hope that if they worked hard, they could someday escape from President Myung Dohun.
Sometimes, watching that hope made Song Hyunsoo uncomfortable, and he’d take out his frustration on the innocent guy.
He thought the days Hongseo dreamed of would never come and felt pain watching him work himself to the bone praying for an unreachable paradise.
Then an aspiring actor named Jeong Ji-in joined their dorm life.
Of course, Song Hyunsoo snapped at him, too.
“Don’t you know that seniors take precedence over age in show business?” he said, acting tough and territorial.
Though Ji-in was four years older than Song Hyunsoo and Choi Hongseo, he didn’t engage in the power struggle.
Hongseo was the first to open his heart to Ji-in. Hongseo wasn’t someone who saw the world as beautiful either, but strangely, he got along well with Ji-in from the start. Song Hyunsoo disliked that.
“Hey, you trust people way too easily. Don’t you know your judgment is shit?”
“I’m better than you. Ji-in hyung’s a good person. You should try talking to him.”
“Good person my ass. Even the most despicable con artists seem good at first.”
Like President Myung Dohun was. Without needing to say it outright, Hongseo understood what Song Hyunsoo meant. They had no choice but to understand each other, but Song Hyunsoo worried Hongseo might get hurt trusting Ji-in.
Despite having a face like a handsome man from a European painting, Ji-in’s demeanor was simple. Unlike typical celebrity hopefuls, he didn’t dress flashy or even seem interested in dressing up. Yet almost all of his belongings were quite expensive.
Sharing a room with Ji-in, Song Hyunsoo soon noticed this.
Feigning disinterest, he’d lie on the upper bunk scrolling his phone, but when he heard Ji-in closing the front door, he’d rush downstairs to snoop on his stuff.
He tried on Ji-in’s jacket and sprayed some pricey-sounding perfume with complicated words he couldn’t read. He now knew it was ignorant behavior, but back then, he was really unrefined.
One day, Ji-in returned to the room after forgetting his wallet. Song Hyunsoo, standing before the mirror wearing Ji-in’s jacket, blushed deeply. Embarrassed, he snapped rudely even though he’d done nothing wrong.
“Why—why didn’t you make a sound when you came in?”
“I thought you were napping, so I came in quietly on purpose.”
Ji-in said nothing about him wearing his clothes. He quietly grabbed his wallet and left. A few days later, when Song Hyunsoo was trying on different outfits to go out, Ji-in approached and casually handed him that jacket.
“It’ll go well with what you’re wearing now.”
From that day on, Song Hyunsoo stopped building walls against Ji-in. There was nothing more pointless than barking at someone with no intention of fighting back.
After that, Song Hyunsoo took more interest in Ji-in than in Choi Hongseo.
“That hyung can’t drink Americano? He drinks some tiny coffee.”
“Espresso?”
“Something like that.”
“He grew up in Italy, so he’s hardly ever had an Americano. People there don’t drink Americano.”
“Wow, he grew up in Italy??”
Growing up abroad seemed impressive to Song Hyunsoo—some foreign place he had never even been to on a trip. A very distant foreign land.
“But why did he come to Korea? Was he super rich but lost his family fortune?”
“Why does it have to be a ‘lost it all’ story?”
“Dumbass, think about it. Even if he’s rich now, would you move into a place like this?”
Unlike others, Ji-in never shouted or got annoyed, nor did he swear. He was quite a different kind of person compared to the older guys and seniors around Song Hyunsoo and Choi Hongseo.
Beyond high-end watches and refined tastes, even a common pair of Nike sneakers or a worn Polo Piquet looked different on Ji-in.
He was the kind of hyung who lent Song Hyunsoo a watch worth tens of millions of won without making a fuss or scolding him about losing it.
When Ji-in left the dorm after Hongseo did, Song Hyunsoo honestly felt empty and lonely. It wasn’t just the dorm—it was like being left alone in the world.
But he was used to accepting that. Complaining or feeling lonely wouldn’t change anything. He pretended to be fine. He was used to pretending.
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