By Zephyria The hospital, knowing Lee Hae-sung’s aversion to fuss, was visited by the doctor accompanied by only one nurse, quietly.
“Upon arrival at the hospital, his fever had reached 42 degrees Celsius. It’s not decreasing rapidly even now.”
The attending physician said with a stern expression, watching the nurse take the patient’s temperature.
“Based on symptoms like fever and nausea, we could suspect pyelonephritis or sepsis, but detailed tests are only possible once the patient recovers to some extent. Currently, he’s completely unconscious…”
“……”
“Also, it seems the patient endured the pain for a long time. He sweated so much that his outer clothes were soaked. If our suspected illness is correct, enduring longer could have led to septic shock.”
The doctor, who had been speaking cautiously until then, now mixed a slight tone of reprimand into his expression and voice, given that the patient’s guardian was Lee Hae-sung, the President of ARA.
“He must have been in considerable pain with symptoms like these. Even if the patient says he’s fine, those around him must insist on bringing him in. Such high fevers can be fatal even for adults.”
Lee Hae-sung merely looked down at the patient without replying.
At the ancestral shrine, he had witnessed Yoon Hye-an collapse right before his eyes but felt nothing. It was true that he had thought it might be a staged show. He had only assessed Yoon Hye-an based on Manager Kang’s report, and Manager Kang’s report could not be mistaken.
Just as most people around Yoon Hye-an thought he was ‘pretending not to remember,’ Lee Hae-sung also saw Yoon Hye-an as someone who would not hesitate to put on a ‘fainting act.’
But why?
While listening to the doctor’s reprimand, the sight of the patient lying unconscious in bed felt entirely due to his own indifference. Yet, his suspicion of Yoon Hye-an remained unchanged.
At least, the sweats he had shed and the collapses he had experienced in front of me were not an act.
The doctor grew anxious at Lee Hae-sung’s prolonged silence. Assessing his expression to see if he had offended him, the doctor gave a few cautionary instructions and quickly left the room.
Lee Hae-sung stood blankly, looking towards the folding doors connected to the living room, where the doctor had disappeared.
The crumpled napkin, so messy from being squeezed in pain, strangely kept bothering him.
“Pretending to collapse…”
“……”
At the dry voice, whispered like a secret, Lee Hae-sung turned his head towards the bed.
With a pale complexion, as dry as his voice, Yoon Hye-an looked up at him. His thin neck tightened and loosened as he swallowed dryly with difficulty.
“You believe me now, at least… that I wasn’t pretending to collapse, right?”
Had he overheard the conversation with the doctor?
Lee Hae-sung, who had only turned his head, slowly turned his body. His unfocused eyes suggested he hadn’t fully regained consciousness.
He was a patient who had collapsed due to illness. Not knowing how to treat Yoon Hye-an, Lee Hae-sung rubbed his jaw and walked closer to the bed.
“Don’t think about that now, just sleep. You need to rest.”
In the eyes of the feverish patient, tears instantly welled up. His emaciated hand fumbled in the air, like someone trying to grasp a fading hallucination.
But he couldn’t take that hand. Lee Hae-sung gripped the side rails installed on the side of the bed with both hands.
“If I fall asleep… will you disappear, Mister…”
“……”
The tendons on Lee Hae-sung’s hands, gripping the rails, bulged for a moment. His eyes, looking down at the patient, trembled violently.
The patient, delirious from the high fever, seemed out of his mind. His lips, chapped and peeling, moved again.
“If this is all a dream, and I disappear too… what if I can never see you again…”
Large teardrops rolled down Yoon Hye-an’s eyes. Watching the tears wet his temples and slide down to his ears, Lee Hae-sung’s hands were now trembling almost uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep my promise… You said you’d come, Mister… but I didn’t wait… I was wrong.”
He slowly covered the patient’s weeping eyelids with his palm. Hearing the crying, the bodyguard approached the open folding door between the bedroom and the living room. Lee Hae-sung gestured to him to lower the lighting.
The doctor had said the patient would likely be asleep until tomorrow morning. Waking up and talking like this now was merely an extension of sleep, an extension of a dream.
Even so, there was no basis for Yoon Hye-an to call Lee Hae-sung ‘Mister.’ Of course, Yoon Hye-an and Lee Hae-sung had never made any ‘promise.’
A promise that someone could apologize for not keeping, calling him ‘Mister.’
What came to mind was only the promise made over the phone with Choi Hong-seo, before his death.
How much does Yoon Hye-an know?
How on earth does he know such things?
Even though he says he wants nothing, why… why is he doing this to me…
Why are you… saying you’re sorry for not waiting…
Lee Hae-sung’s palm became damp with tears, and after the patient’s crying gradually subsided, the room became quiet again. But Lee Hae-sung’s inner self could never be quiet. Outside the window, the drizzle was growing heavier.
■
The place Yong-jae took them, saying everyone was gathered for a birthday party, was ironically the members-only club where Lee Hae-sung and I had met for the second time.
‘Layered’ had been invited as a guest to a promotion party for a third-generation chaebol, and a reception for Choi Hong-seo with the day’s protagonist was scheduled there.
And there… Lee Hae-sung had appeared unexpectedly. The reception was canceled, and Choi Hong-seo was able to leave the club with Lee Hae-sung.
Descending the stairs I had followed up, Choi Hong-seo felt a strange sensation, as if time were reversing. But now was not the time to dwell on memories.
“I told you we were preparing for Hyung’s birthday party, and Director-nim said he could rent this place for us.”
Yong-jae, dressed up after shedding his casual attire, was far more excited than Choi Hong-seo, the protagonist.
“Director Kang?”
It made sense that Director Kang Woo-hyun would be a member of such a club, or have close acquaintances who were members.
“That’s right! He said since it’s your first birthday after waking up, of course, we have to celebrate, so he went out of his way.”
“Wasn’t it just supposed to be a meal? You, me, and Dong-ha.”
As he walked down the stairs with reluctant steps, Choi Hong-seo let out a short sigh. According to his memory, this club was excessively large for just the three of them to have a meal.
“Ah, that’s just what we said. The more congratulations, the better, right?”
Yong-jae, with a slight smile, showed his ID to the staff member in front of the tightly shut entrance. After checking if Yong-jae’s name was on the guest list and confirming ‘Yoon Hye-an’s’ face, the staff members politely opened the heavy entrance door.
As expected, the interior was bustling with people. The party hadn’t officially started yet, so there were no flashing lights or ear-splitting music, but everyone was drinking the prepared alcohol, creating a lively atmosphere.
With the protagonist’s arrival, all eyes soon turned this way. Park Dong-ha approached Choi Hong-seo, who was awkwardly greeting people repeatedly amidst the cheers.
“Hyung! Happy birthday! Wow… you look like the Yoon Hye-an I know when you dress up like this?”
Yong-jae had nagged me, saying I shouldn’t dress casually since we were going somewhere nice, so I had put in some effort. But compared to Park Dong-ha, I looked shabby. Park Dong-ha, unlike his usual somewhat simple appearance, was dressed fashionably. His hair and makeup were done, making him look as glamorous and vibrant as one would expect from a former idol.
【When you’re in idol mode, Hong-seo, I’m such… a fan.】
I remembered what Lee Hae-sung had said on the messenger when he sent me photos taken during an interview. Even though I knew he liked me not just because I was an idol, Park Dong-ha’s appearance, which was undeniably idol-like, bothered me.
It was a completely useless thought, as he wouldn’t possibly show up at a place like this, at Yoon Hye-an’s birthday party.
“What’s going on? You said we’d celebrate with just close friends.”
“Everyone gathered here is someone close to you, Hyung. You didn’t even contact people after you woke up, did you? You’re so cold… but when I contacted them, everyone was curious about your recent situation and readily agreed to come.”
“They won’t even recognize me… I feel bad for no reason.”
“Everyone knows you don’t remember them. They’ll all understand, so don’t worry. Ah, Director Kang and his guests are here too, so let’s go greet them first.”
Park Dong-ha nudged Choi Hong-seo’s back towards the table in front of the stage. As they walked, people who recognized ‘Yoon Hye-an’ offered congratulations from various places. Choi Hong-seo also saw several celebrities and models whose faces and names he knew. However, most of them had no connection with Choi Hong-seo. Choi Hong-seo and Yoon Hye-an were, to put it simply, from different social circles.
I had been a little nervous, wondering if Lee Hae-sung might be at Director Kang’s table, but as expected, he wasn’t there. I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed.
Director Kang, who loved such glamorous parties, was enjoying himself boisterously with many of his acquaintances. The President of Cream Mansion’s production company and the executive producer also occupied seats at Director Kang’s table.
“Thank you for coming despite your busy schedule, Director. I heard you also went to great lengths to secure this venue.”
“It’s our Hwang Ji-woo’s birthday, so I had to do this much. Vice President Lee probably knows, but he hates places like this, so I don’t know if he’ll come?”
Choi Hong-seo’s heart pounded at Director Kang’s casual remark.
He knew better than anyone that he disliked Yoon Hye-an and hated flashy parties. The second time they met, when he appeared here, everyone was surprised…