By Zephyria ■
Lee Hae-sung, having finished his second shower of the day, emerged from the bathroom naked, water dripping.
It was a long-standing habit to dry himself on the rug at the bathroom entrance, as he disliked humidity.
He only disliked humidity; he lived in an environment where he didn’t need to manage the humidity he disliked himself. His ex-wife used to say that. It wasn’t meant as a criticism. She was also someone who grew up in an environment where she didn’t need to move herself to avoid things she disliked.
It might indeed be the case.
Even with good ventilation, humidity builds up during a shower. He quickly leaves the bathroom because he dislikes the dampness. Even if he walks around the powder room dripping water, it will soon be miraculously clean again by someone.
The interesting thing is that he never shared a bathroom with his wife. Both his wife and Lee Hae-sung found sharing a bathroom with someone to be a terrible thought. Like most people who grew up using their own private bathrooms from a very young age, the bathroom was a space for them alone, more private than the bedroom. Even the marital bedroom was a space established by contract, an extension of business.
He had spent time with Choi Hong-seo in that important space, the bathroom.
The time spent soaking in the bathtub together after their first sex, exchanging meaningless play and childish jokes while their bodies touched, was as sweet and intoxicating as the sex itself.
It was a bathroom where those memories remained intact.
He tossed the towel he had used to dry his hair into the basket, roughly dried himself with a new towel, and finally wiped between his legs before picking up a third towel to wrap around his lower body, stepping off the rug barefoot.
It had been a long time since he had stayed at his Seocho-dong house.
It had been even longer since he had visited his Bundang house, where he used to retreat whenever he had free time, not just on weekends. Although it was a house built with great care to enjoy nature without going far, he rarely visited it because it lacked any memories with Choi Hong-seo.
The Hannam-dong mansion held significant meaning as the house Choi Hong-seo had lived in until the end, and he had more memories with Choi Hong-seo in the Seocho-dong house.
He couldn’t compare which was more precious. He had simply chosen to live like a gatekeeper guarding Choi Hong-seo’s room after the owner had disappeared. All the memories in this house were shared memories, but Choi Hong-seo was alone in the Hannam-dong mansion. He felt he had to protect that place…
Perhaps the Hannam-dong mansion was like Choi Hong-seo’s true grave for Lee Hae-sung.
He had no intention of inviting the actors of
After completing a simple skincare routine according to the stylist’s instructions, Lee Hae-sung walked towards the dressing room, stroking his jawline.
He had hired an expert who designed everything related to the image of entrepreneurs and executives, including their appearance and clothing.
Things had changed a lot from the previous generation, who questioned what business appearance had to do with anything if one wasn’t an entertainer. Among the third-generation executives around Lee Hae-sung, there were almost none who didn’t have a stylist.
Perhaps that was why he wasn’t rejected by his lover, who was twelve years younger.
Smiling faintly at that thought, Lee Hae-sung’s steps suddenly slowed.
There were moments like this when he would momentarily forget the child’s death. He would smile with pure happiness recalling something the child had said or done in a certain situation, only to remember their absence the next moment and freeze, cold and hard… It was a similar situation now.
As Lee Hae-sung stopped, the display cabinet for his perfumes caught his eye. Beautiful glass bottles of various shapes were densely displayed. Lee Hae-sung slowly approached it.
He never wore perfume when working. That was his mother’s advice.
The standard for scent is extremely subjective. A smell that is a fragrance to me could be a stench to someone else. Therefore, he meant to eliminate any possibility of giving someone an unpleasant impression outside of work.
However, in his private life, he occasionally used perfume to refresh his mood.
Even though he didn’t wear it often, there were about a hundred perfumes displayed in the cabinet. Compared to those around him, this was not even a ‘collection.’ In a world of abundance, the standard of abundance was bound to differ.
Lee Hae-sung picked one out.
It was a perfume he sometimes wore when he met that child.
“What perfume is it?”
“Why? Are you trying to secretly buy the same one?”
“Can’t I… buy it?”
“Of course, you can. I’ll gift you a bottle tomorrow. It’s an order-made by a perfumer in Paris, so you can’t get it in stores.”
“Is it that precious? You can give it to me?”
“What could be more precious than you?”
As he sprayed the perfume in the air and inhaled its scent, the conversation from that day vividly returned. Even the child’s blushing earlobes were so vivid that he felt he could bite them right away.
The monumental day we first had sex, eased our fatigue together in that bathtub, slept together in the same bed, and started the day together.
That day, Lee Hae-sung canceled all his appointments and spent the entire day with Choi Hong-seo. He had been so smitten with his lover that he had abruptly canceled everything to spend time with him, fitting his schedule around his lover’s day off. It wasn’t as if the appointments were particularly crucial, but even so, it was an unprecedented, extraordinary event for Lee Hae-sung. Manager Kang had even double-checked, asking for confirmation twice, when told to adjust the schedule.
He woke up before Choi Hong-seo, but he didn’t fuss; he held him gently until he naturally opened his eyes. He was well aware of the responsibility for having tormented him until the late hours of the night.
That child, who had always treated him with a tense expression and with difficulty, was gradually showing more of his various faces, initiating playful interactions, and indirectly expressing his affection… He was so overwhelmed by the happiness of that change that he couldn’t collect himself.
And now, that child was sleeping in his arms after a passionate night together. He repeatedly replayed the memories of the previous night, when he had been truly felt and even actively desired, stroking the bare shoulder of the beloved in his arms and kissing his forehead and hair countless times.
As the child clung tightly to his side, his breath tickled Hae-sung’s bare chest with every exhale. It might have been an unconscious action in his sleep, but Lee Hae-sung’s arm was wrapped around his lower abdomen.
He could never get enough of looking at the face of the child sleeping soundly beside him, having released all tension.
That morning, Lee Hae-sung had envisioned a life where every day began in such a way.
He intended to realize it slowly, so as not to startle or frighten his younger lover, but the thought of ending and starting each day by each other’s side was an exhilarating fantasy.
From the bed to the bathroom that day, from the bathroom through the powder room and dressing room to the start of the real day. Lee Hae-sung couldn’t bring himself to let go of Choi Hong-seo’s body. The kisses they shared that late morning alone felt like they numbered in the hundreds.
After a long shower together, accompanied by light caresses, he had embraced the child from behind right in front of this display cabinet and gifted him this perfume.
“Is this that perfume? The one you wore when we walked together on Namsan, mister?”
“Would you like to try it?”
He had personally opened the package and handed the new bottle to the child. Choi Hong-seo, in the common way, sprayed the perfume once on the inside of each wrist, then rubbed his wrists together, and finally dabbed those wrists below his ears.
“When you rub them like that, the scent particles get crushed, and the fragrance can dissipate quickly or change. If you just let it sit after spraying or gently pat it, you can enjoy the original scent for longer.”
“Oh? I didn’t know that.”
“And it’s said that spraying on the outside, where there’s less contact, lasts longer than on the inside of the wrist.”
He took the child’s wrist, clad in a shower robe, and personally sprayed a short burst of perfume on the outside.
“It really smells like you, mister.”
He had been happy at the sight of the child smiling bashfully, bringing his wrist close to his nose to inhale the scent.
He felt as if he couldn’t bear to have it out of his sight, and that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for that child.
It wasn’t his first relationship. He wasn’t at an age to view love purely, nor was he that kind of person.
Yet, why were his feelings for that child so fervent? Why did he want to give him everything and feel so tenderly towards him? He had tried to create reasons and explanations in front of the child, talking about ‘out-of-focus’ and such… but there were far more aspects that couldn’t be explained.
Someone had stolen such precious memories, and not content with just stealing them, they intended to use them.
Who wouldn’t be enraged?
Lee Hae-sung indifferently sprayed the perfume on a few points. He was now curious if Yoon Hye-an would even react to this perfume.
He removed the towel wrapped around his lower body and moved to the dressing room to start getting dressed.
Many people imagine chaebols living as objects of admiration, but in reality, they are mostly objects of desire.
Lee Hae-sung’s life was filled with people trying to obtain something through him. Whether it was money, promotion, or status.
The sexual temptations from countless men and women were not even worth mentioning. They saw Lee Hae-sung as a ‘once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’ Therefore, there was nothing they wouldn’t do. Discarding their pride and shame was a given.
Some approached him strategically, while others clung to him blindly. Some appealed with innocence, others with sexiness. Some would just strip and throw themselves at him.
That’s why, for Lee Hae-sung, those things couldn’t be a stimulus or attractive. No, they couldn’t even be called seduction. It was nothing more than an act of devaluing oneself by quantifying the other person’s worth.
People merely project their desires onto ARA’s Lee Hae-sung.
It was also quite obvious what kind of desire Yoon Hye-an was projecting onto Lee Hae-sung. Most of what people wanted to achieve through Lee Hae-sung was pretty much the same.
This was nothing special for Lee Hae-sung, and he would have dealt with it with complete indifference, whether that young kid got worked up alone trying to attract his attention or not.
He would have, if that kid hadn’t drawn Choi Hong-seo into it as a tool for seduction.
To win favor by stimulating memories of a deceased lover. It was a new method, unlike anything he had experienced before. A cold smirk spread across Lee Hae-sung’s face as he fastened the buttons of his shirt in front of the mirror. He could only hope that Yoon Hye-an was prepared for the consequences.
Just as he finished buttoning his shirt, Manager Kang’s voice was heard from the hallway door. It was time to finish getting ready.
“Vice President.”
“Ah, it’s already this late.”
“Everyone will arrive in about 10 minutes. As you requested, Yoon Hye-an’s arrival has been adjusted to be a little later.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Lee Hae-sung, who had transformed from being naked to perfectly dressed, patted Manager Kang’s shoulder and left the dressing room.
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