The sound of dry swallowing seemed to echo right next to his ear.
It was a chilling noise, like the click of a pistol’s safety being released.
Song Hyunsoo, having set the T-shirt down on the floor, picked up the perfume bottle from moments ago and stared intently at its label.
‘Is this… for me?’
‘I thought you might like it.’
The conversation he’d had with Jung Jin while exchanging this perfume was vivid in his mind.
‘It’s expensive, isn’t it?’
‘I actually got one as a gift too.’
‘But it’s a gift… Is it really okay for me to take it?’
‘The gift giver doesn’t care. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t fuss over stuff like that.’
‘You know I never refuse gifts, right? Don’t regret it, hyung. Am I really allowed to take it?’
‘Yeah, man.’
He could clearly recall Jung Jin’s smile as he chuckled watching Song Hyunsoo grin ear to ear.
The box in Yoon Jooho’s dressing room drawer.
What perfume and T-shirt were stored inside, what brand or product they were—he never thought that was important.
He only wondered if those items represented lingering attachments Jooho hadn’t settled, or if “that person” was still a precious presence inside Jooho’s heart, which is why he couldn’t throw them away.
He hadn’t even realized he was remembering what kind of perfume and T-shirt they were.
But now, the shapes of the perfume and T-shirt in that box came back to him with crystal clarity, as vivid as looking at a photo.
Still holding the perfume, Song Hyunsoo looked back at the T-shirt lying on the floor.
It wasn’t the same T-shirt as the one in Yoon Jooho’s box.
But the T-shirt Jung Jin had given him acted as a trigger, pulling memories to the surface.
The luxury brand T-shirt in Yoon Jooho’s box—somewhere, he’d seen it before. That buried memory was awakening.
‘Hey? You bought this too, hyung? Lately, every celebrity’s been posting pics wearing this.’
‘No, someone gave it to me.’
‘Who just gives something like that? Oh, was it Yoon Jooho?’
‘Yeah.’
Usually, after long overseas business trips, Yoon Jooho would call Jung Jin out.
On days like that, Jung Jin would come home carrying a shopping bag, saying Jooho had given him something. Song Hyunsoo had envied that.
‘So, you just wear this at home?’
‘Yeah… it’s not really my style. But I wear it at home at least.’
Though basically black, the print was quite flashy, which wasn’t Jung Jin’s taste at all. While others flaunted expensive T-shirts on SNS, Jung Jin wore them only as loungewear at home.
That was the exact T-shirt from Yoon Jooho’s box.
At the time, he’d paid no mind to the “gift giver.”
Yeah, that could be Yoon Jooho. So what? Is it weird for friends to give each other gifts?
He knew well enough how generous Yoon Jooho was to the people around him.
And how many people in the world own that perfume or that T-shirt?
“……”
Song Hyunsoo laughed dryly several times, even letting out soft chuckles.
Like someone desperately trying to deny the truth thrust before them, attempting to dismiss it as mere fantasy.
Ah, Hyunsoo, your imagination’s running wild again. Senior Yoon and Jung Jin? No way. Besides, Senior never dated a guy… right?
His fingers, folding the T-shirt, slowed down.
『“While we were seeing each other, I never really thought about love or anything like that.”』
Come to think of it, Yoon Jooho had only said he met “that person,” never that they were dating.
What if they just weren’t in a relationship?
What else had he said?
He rummaged wildly through his memories. If memories were a tangible drawer or room, it would have looked ransacked, as if robbed.
『“I only sleep with top stars. People who have too much to lose keep secrets from each other.”』
Yoon Jooho had clearly said he only slept with top stars.
Before Jung Jin left Korea, he had become immensely popular with <Eternal Night>, but he hadn’t been a top actor before that.
Still, exceptions might exist. Like me, who wasn’t a top star but still slept with Yoon Jooho.
He couldn’t guarantee he was Jooho’s only exception.
Monroe, fluttering around inside the box, approached Song Hyunsoo.
Maybe sitting so still for so long had seemed strange to the little creature.
Its innocent green eyes looked up at Hyunsoo, rubbing its body against his knee.
What if “that person” wasn’t a woman but a man?
What if Yoon Jooho and Jung Jin weren’t estranged friends after a fight but were actually former bed partners?
And what if it was Jung Jin who ended things first?
Yeah… then everything would make sense. The reasons they fought, why they couldn’t reconcile, why they wouldn’t explain to me.
Unconsciously, Song Hyunsoo reached out and stroked Monroe. The cat nuzzled his palm with its small head and wore a contented expression.
No, no, it can’t be. It just can’t.
‘I don’t want to be involved with someone I know,’ I said clearly. There’s no way he wouldn’t have told me if he’d heard that.
If that were true, from that point on it would be deliberate—purposefully hiding the truth.
He couldn’t keep unpacking anymore.
His mind was a tangled mess. He couldn’t grasp anything.
Drip. The phone lying beside him vibrated. The light came on, and Monroe immediately paid attention, pouncing on the device.
Cradling the cat with one arm, he checked the screen. It was Yoon Jooho.
He didn’t have the courage to answer. Clutching the trembling phone tightly, he only stared at the six consonants ㄱㅇㅈㅎㅅㅂ.
The persistent call stopped, and shortly after a message arrived.
《Showering? Fell asleep? I’m about to leave. It says it’ll take 2 hours 40 minutes. Want me to bring something? Anything you want to eat?》
Prince, that’s not the important thing right now.
Right, Senior Yoon? I’m just overreacting again, aren’t I?
■
The button sound unlocking the door’s lock echoed, and the door opened.
Voices greeted Monroe warmly, speaking to the cat as it came to meet them.
“Yoon Marilyn, you came to meet me at the door? You’ve grown up now. But where’s your little uncle? Why did you come out alone? Hmm?”
Slippers shuffled along the hallway as someone approached.
As the familiar sound drew closer, Song Hyunsoo felt his chest tighten.
He lifted the mug in front of him and forced down the coffee, which tasted more bitter than ever.
Initially scorching hot enough to burn his tongue, it had grown cold while Hyunsoo mulled things over.
“What? You were here? I thought you were asleep since you didn’t come out.”
Afraid even to look at him, Hyunsoo turned his head slowly.
What if seeing his face made him unbearably repulsed?
Thankfully, or perhaps regrettably, that didn’t happen.
Yoon Jooho, holding Monroe, walked toward him, still unsettling Hyunsoo’s heart and weakening him.
“……”
He was wearing “that hat.”
The bucket hat Hyunsoo had gifted him on his last birthday.
Wanting to give a good present, but lacking money and sense… so he’d asked Jung Jin to pick it out.
Should I just let it go? Maybe it’s just my imagination.
If I cover it up and move on, I can stay by this person’s side as I have been.
No fights. Peacefully.
Is the truth really that important? Is it so critical that he lied to me?
“Are you done packing?”
Song Hyunsoo shook his head.
Yoon Jooho stepped right up behind the chair and brushed Hyunsoo’s bangs back off his forehead. The skinship Hyunsoo liked.
“I’ll help you. Let’s finish together tomorrow. Did you eat anything?”
Again, Hyunsoo shook his head.
Looking down at him, Jooho gave a short smile, released his hair, and walked into the kitchen. The sound of running water from the sink came through.
“If you didn’t eat anything, just tell me what you want me to bring. You didn’t reply. Were you asleep?”
“I’m not hungry.”
By now, Yoon Jooho couldn’t miss the change in atmosphere. Feeling his gaze from behind, Song Hyunsoo kept sitting, staring down at the mug.
“What were you doing sitting there?”
“Thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“But maybe I’m not smart enough. I can’t find an answer.”
For three solid hours, he’d been lost in thought.
Should he ask directly? Or just conclude it was his own delusion and pretend it never happened?
But unable to reach any conclusion, he had to face him.
And after facing him, he realized something.
Pretending nothing happened and treating him exactly the same—knowing the truth but choosing to ignore it—was not something someone like him could do.
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I’m not your type, am I?”
“Again with that?”
Yoon Jooho came up to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down diagonally beside him, resting his arm on the backrest.
“Then why did you sleep with me at first?”
“……”
“Was it a special dish? Or a snack? Like someone who stocks Two-Plus Korean Beef in the fridge and only eats sushi at omakase, but sometimes craves tteokbokki?”
“You’re having boring thoughts.”
Taking off the hat and tossing it onto the side chair, Jooho brushed his hair back and muttered in a cold voice.
Nyaaang. Monroe slipped under the table and rubbed against Song Hyunsoo’s calf.
“You said you liked me enough to go beyond your tastes. Where’d that confidence go?”
That confidence is about to be shattered right now.
At the table, Song Hyunsoo clenched his empty fist tightly. With his other hand, he grabbed the elbow of the arm he was balling into a fist.
“She must have been beautiful, right?”
“……”
“She spoke several languages, didn’t she?”
“……”
“She knew to order white wine with fish dishes.”
These were things Yoon Jooho had personally told him.
Hyunsoo forced his creaking neck to move and looked at him. As if sensing something, Yoon Jooho’s eyes calmly fixed on him.
Song Hyunsoo’s dry lips moved slightly.
“…Like Jung Jin?”
“……”
He knew just by looking at that expression. No need for an answer.
It was real. It really was.
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