By Zephyria 
2. Paris
Just as the sun began to set. Late afternoon in May, Paris.
The Haussmann-style buildings stretching endlessly along the banks of the Seine, the Eiffel Tower piercing the skyline above them, and the leisurely crowds enjoying spring at every open-air cafe.
Sitting in the back seat of the sedan, Choi Hong-seo gazed at the scenery outside the window. However, it all felt like a scene on a screen. It didn’t feel real.
Paris. A city anyone dreams of visiting at least once, and Choi Hong-seo had been no different in the past. Even in a life where not a single sliver of hope could penetrate, he had dreamed. He used to imagine achieving great success with ‘Layered’ and coming to this city to perform.
To the Choi Hong-seo of that time, such dreams were an anesthetic. They were a struggle to forget reality. Only within such delusions could he be happy, if only for a moment; without them, he would have had no driving force to endure, dragging his exhausted body along.
And yet, he was alive, and he was actually in that city.
In a completely new world—literally a brave new world—where Lee Seo-kyung and Myeong Do-hoon were gone, and the billions in debt he had never even borrowed had vanished.
Despite that, he could neither focus on nor admire the beauty he was seeing with his own eyes. Though his gaze remained fixed outside the window, his hand, constantly fidgeting with the seatbelt, betrayed his anxiety.
Lee Hae-sung, sitting beside him, watched Choi Hong-seo’s profile in silence. Eventually, deciding he couldn’t just leave him be, he gently brushed the cheek of his lover with the back of his hand to get his attention.
Feeling the touch, Choi Hong-seo turned toward him.
“Since you don’t have a crossbody bag, is it the seatbelt now?”
“What?”
“The bag strap. You always fidget with it when you’re nervous.”
“Ah…”
“But right now, you won’t leave the belt alone.”
Like a child who had been scolded, Choi Hong-seo stealthily let go of the belt. Even such a trivial action made Lee Hae-sung’s heart tighten.
“I’m not nagging you to stop. Don’t lose heart.”
“I know. It’s just… a bad habit.”
“Here. Instead, I’ll let you hold my hand.”
When Lee Hae-sung spoke slyly, offering his large palm, Choi Hong-seo finally let out a small chuckle. Then, as if giving a high-five, he pressed his palm firmly against Lee Hae-sung’s with a loud clap. Lee Hae-sung gripped that hand tightly.
“You said it’s your first time in Paris, right?”
Choi Hong-seo nodded.
“Even though I had a fair amount of overseas schedules, my team mostly focused on Southeast Asia.”
‘My team.’ He was, of course, referring to ‘Layered,’ where he had been the leader, and not ‘Titan,’ which Yoon Hye-an had left.
“I was always envious of teams that toured far-off places like Europe, America, or South America.”
If you hadn’t been placed in such exploitative conditions, you definitely would have achieved those dreams. You would have shone brighter than anyone. Just as you did yesterday in Cannes.
—He wanted to say that, but Lee Hae-sung couldn’t easily bring himself to speak. Mentioning the hardships of the past was still not easy for the two of them. No matter how much time passed, the day they could look back on those events with a smile would never come. Because it was a time when there was absolutely nothing to smile about.
Noticing Lee Hae-sung’s complex expression as he struggled to offer comfort, Choi Hong-seo forced a bright smile.
“I’m just glad… I got to come here with Ajusshi—I mean, Hyung.”
“I’ll let it slide if you call me Ajusshi today.”
“No penalty?”
“No penalty.”
“But you love giving me penalties.”
“I do love it.”
“And yet you’re letting it slide?”
Lee Hae-sung lifted Choi Hong-seo’s hand, which was damp with sweat, to chest height.
“You’re this nervous. It’s pitiful.”
Choi Hong-seo looked up at Lee Hae-sung with touched eyes, but soon shook his head firmly.
“I’ll still call you Hyung. I might make a mistake in front of Ji-in Hyung.”
The reason Choi Hong-seo was too nervous to properly enjoy the Paris before him: Jeong Ji-in.
The sedan carrying Choi Hong-seo and Lee Hae-sung was currently heading toward the home of Jeong Ji-in and Yi-han. They had been invited to dinner.
The two had arrived in Paris three or four hours ago, and there was plenty of time before the appointment. Lee Hae-sung had suggested a light stroll, but Choi Hong-seo wanted to stay at the hotel.
From the suite at the Nox Hotel Paris where they were staying, they had a very close view of the Eiffel Tower, but Choi Hong-seo couldn’t even enjoy that properly. The Eiffel Tower, which he had looked forward to seeing since he left Seoul, was finally right there.
For hours, Choi Hong-seo had paced the room, unable to truly rest. Because he was about to meet Jeong Ji-in. To be precise, because he was meeting Jeong Ji-in while not being ‘Choi Hong-seo.’
He didn’t even know how many times he had changed his clothes. Fearing that Hyung would hate him if he looked like he was imitating Choi Hong-seo, he had searched through all the clothes he brought, trying his best not to look like the original Choi Hong-seo.
‘You are Choi Hong-seo, so how can you pretend not to be? Just be comfortable.’
Lee Hae-sung had tried to stop him, unable to watch any longer, but it was useless.
‘At least I don’t want to give the impression that I’m copying him.’
After throwing off the fourth t-shirt he tried on, Choi Hong-seo began digging through the suitcase spread across the floor for a fifth option.
The outfit he eventually chose was a neat white shirt and jeans. Since it was an outfit prepared for casual events related to the film festival, it was far from Choi Hong-seo’s usual taste.
Jeong Ji-in was making Choi Hong-seo just as nervous as the Cannes Film Festival had. He owed Jeong Ji-in a great deal, and Lee Hae-sung felt as though he was starting to resent the man for it.
“Whether it’s Ajusshi, Hyung, or Lee Hae-sung, you can call me whatever you want, Hong-seo. No one will say anything.”
Lee Hae-sung’s words were true. Even now, with a Korean attendant in the passenger seat, he was calling him Hong-seo without hesitation. At some point, he had started doing so in front of his closest aides who had signed non-disclosure agreements. This included Manager Kang. And as he had always said, no one made an issue of it in front of Lee Hae-sung and Choi Hong-seo.
“Your cousin is there, and Ji-in Hyung is there too. I don’t want to call you Ajusshi in front of them.”
“Yi-han would probably like it. He’d have another excuse to tease me.”
“That’s why I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care who calls me Ajusshi, but Hong-seo seems to care, huh?”
That might have been true before, but now Lee Hae-sung cared too. Rather than just caring, it was unpleasant. Because of Choi Hong-seo, the word ‘Ajusshi’ had become a special pet name, and he didn’t want to be called that by anyone other than this boy. He had realized this clearly during the trip to Cannes.
Still, Lee Hae-sung pretended not to care. Because he loved seeing Choi Hong-seo earnestly defend him, insisting that he wasn’t an Ajusshi.
“Because you’re not an Ajusshi.”
“I’m over forty, so I am an Ajusshi.”
Sigh. Choi Hong-seo let out a sigh this time. Then, he turned his upper body completely toward Lee Hae-sung.
“You know Seonbae Kim Joo-sung, right? He’s forty-three, but he’s still popular with female viewers and consumers. He’s been the exclusive model for coffee and furniture ads for years. Seonbae Cho Kyu-jin is forty-four. Seonbae Nam Do-young is even forty-seven. Are those Seonbaes ‘Ajusshis’?”
“Hmm… comparing me to actors seems like Hong-seo’s rose-colored glasses talking.”
Rose-colored glasses? Choi Hong-seo widened his eyes and mouth as if he couldn’t believe such a statement.
“It’s not rose-colored glasses. You surely know that everyone on the internet says you’re handsome, right?”
“As Hong-seo knows, I’m not leisurely enough to look those things up.”
Lee Hae-sung shrugged and played innocent, but there was no way he didn’t know. There were always plenty of people around him who wanted to flatter him, and they often quoted comments from online articles to praise his looks, making it impossible for him not to know even if he didn’t look himself.
“Some people even say that if Lee Hae-sung appeared in an ad himself, ARA would monopolize the global market.”
“Monopolize the global market?”
Lee Hae-sung laughed heartily, tilting his head back as if he had just heard the delusional dream of a child shouting about world conquest. The attendant in the passenger seat glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Such a boisterous laugh from the Vice Chairman was a very rare sight.
“I—I mean… that’s how good the advertising effect would be!”
“Is that so? Then I should tell the PR office to consider it.”
“No!”
The answer was immediate and quite firm.
Lee Hae-sung opened his eyes wide and asked his lover back.
“No?”
“……”
Choi Hong-seo shut his mouth with a look of realization that he had made a mistake and avoided eye contact. He seemed to regret his possessive remark, but a satisfied smile deepened on Lee Hae-sung’s lips.
“Ah… I guess I have no choice. If Hong-seo says no, then it’s a no.”
Even though he had no intention of appearing from the start. Choi Hong-seo couldn’t help but chuckle at Lee Hae-sung’s attitude, acting so nonchalantly with a serious face. Lee Hae-sung’s matching smile slowly faded, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at Choi Hong-seo became warmer.