DD 1.5 Strange Country

Although it was still early June, the temperature was already approaching 30 degrees during the day. As a result, the interior of the franchise cafe, just past Saturday lunchtime, was being cooled to a chilly degree by the strong air conditioning. I pulled my chair closer to the laptop, exposing my bare skin under the short sleeves.

A man sitting on a gray rock against a background of neglected, lifeless, and tangled bushes, with dark makeup smudged around his eyes, gazing intensely at the camera lens.

As is often the case with photos of this atmosphere, it did not use a stark black and white contrast. The photo was in color.

Paradoxically, this further emphasized the desolation of the background. The background in the photo is dark, rough, and desolate enough, even with the colors that exist in nature as they are.

Just like the image when I first saw him in Phantom’s underground storage, in the photo, Juhani is pulling the neckline of his sweater up to his chin and staring straight ahead, or glaring, looking like a model.

To someone like me, your pose and expression, along with the atmosphere you create with them, looked no different from that of a professional model.

Old Future.

Old Future.

The website run by Uni and Juhan was not a simple clothing shopping mall that they casually mentioned as a hobby.

Although it seemed that updates were not frequent due to the busy work of Phantom, there were short writings that recorded and described moments from travel and daily life, as well as photos taken directly and pictures of the two people, in addition to the product sales categories.

The old town in Hong Kong that I particularly like is an area that encompasses the neighborhoods of Noho, Soho, and Poho, which are lined along a steep uphill that leads to the tourist attraction Victoria Peak. It is both a stylish and hip ‘hot place’ and a place where the most ordinary and everyday scenery of Hong Kong breathes.

A traditional market butcher shop where meat is hung on skewers without refrigeration, a Hong Kong-style street food stall bustling with locals trying to make a meal with a bowl of noodles, and narrow buildings over 50 years old propped up with bamboo for remodeling, stand side by side with Michelin-selected restaurants and cutting-edge galleries that handle the most avant-garde works. This area remains unchanged yet always feels new.

Like a long-awaited meeting with a friend who never stops striving to become a better person both personally and socially while maintaining their pure essence of energy and passion, there is always a pleasant stimulation there.

The unexpected harmony created by the clash of vibrant colors that seem out of place on the streets, the exotic scents that intensely capture the sense of smell, and the sounds of various languages from around the world mixed with the Cantonese accent.

Hong Kong’s uniqueness, which is based on the most international advanced sensibilities and distinctive local characteristics, showcases a different face every day, capturing the curiosity and interest of travelers who have visited this city multiple times.

Although Kwon Joo-han and I are barely smokers, only finishing a pack a year, after having a drink at a pub in Soho, we both rush to the convenience store to buy cigarettes and a lighter without even thinking about who goes first. I want to break down the tension of maintaining my everyday self, whether a little indulgently or generously, and look around.

The most Hong Kong-like while also being the most international.

The ability to be inclusive while not losing oneself.

In terms of encouraging me not to give up on that topic, Hong Kong is a city I always want to visit again. Even if it is a tight business trip lasting 3 nights and 4 days.

In the photo, Uni and Juhan, posing while standing in a narrow alley on a steep uphill, appeared comfortable as their true selves without exaggeration or concealment, and looked like a part of the city rather than tourists.

Just as the paradise of Sand and Han is symbolized by Bali, I thought that perhaps Hong Kong might be such a city for Sister Uni.

And for the first time while reading that text, I felt a desire to visit a strange city that I didn’t know well. I have listened to the Bali song of Sand and Han for several years, yet I have never been able to bring it into the realm of possibility that I could experience it myself…

I want to look at things with curiosity and experience them directly with my own eyes and hands, rather than through photos or books. Those desires were confusing.

I thought that all desires for something had naturally disappeared.

They seemed to have dried up and withered among themselves like plants that had not been watered, returning to a part of the soil, starting from a moment in the past.

I never intended to kill on purpose. Rather, it was the fact that nothing was done that became the cause of its withering.

Therefore, my recent reactions to the stimuli around me were, before being pleasant or frightening, primarily bewildering.

I thought I could no longer function, but when I opened my eyes, I realized that I could actually perceive light and darkness… that feeling.

Although I couldn’t yet see the clear shapes of objects, my eyes were slowly sensing that there is light and shadow in the world, creating shades and a sense of three-dimensionality.

I wanted to visit Hong Kong. I wanted to try smoking a cigarette with my older sister and brother on the street in the photo.

Hong Kong, which had previously been of no interest, merely a city that was a British colony for a long time and returned to China at the end of the 20th century, has maintained its own distinct language, culture, and customs that are still differentiated from mainland China. Along with cities like Singapore and New York, it was often mentioned as one of the most expensive cities in the world. However, it has approached me with a living charm, possessing expressions, scents, unique habits, and its own way of speaking.

Scrolled all the way down. In the last photo of the posting, the two people were standing close together, smoking a cigarette against the backdrop of a brightly lit night street. It was a photo that seemed to capture a natural moment, rather than a pose taken specially.

The two people seemed to have discovered something captivating, staring at the same spot with their eyes opened wider than usual. It must be a moment captured in the lens by someone who was continuously observing the two people.

In the bottom right corner of the photo, it was stated ‘Photo by Kun’.

Lau Wikun.

Officially becoming the ‘representative’ of the organization I belong to, I was finally able to learn his full name.

I imagine how he would have captured the two people’s figures from this side of the camera lens. In the photo, it was easy to imagine the scene of three people sharing and enjoying the moment as they captured each other on camera in the streets of Hong Kong. People who can coexist without the need for a war of attrition to change each other, even with the strongest individuality.

Despite the differences in age, environment, and position within the organization, I brought the mug to my lips, recalling their unique bond that exists without dividing into superior and subordinate. The coffee was cold. A light sigh escaped.

The night spent at a Spanish-style pub that felt like a hideout, the rustling I felt there was not solely due to my not-so-cheerful personality.

All this time, I have tried to protect myself by choosing ‘nothing’. I believed that by continuously refusing to move towards somewhere ahead, I could remain in the present and maintain myself.

However, doing nothing could not maintain the status quo.

Bricks, plastic cups, and erasers can maintain their appearance if left untouched. Generally, that’s the case.

However, those with life did not. If you don’t water it, if you don’t provide nutrients, if you don’t open the window and ventilate… it will become weak. Mind, emotions, unique personality, and talents.

Morae and Hyung Han, Sister Yuni, Hyung Juhan, the teacher and the representative. Even Inwoo hyung. They were all shining people. People who fill their lives with their own conviction and passion.

I was surrounded by their abundant light, but I was nothing more than dried mud that lacked even the nutrients to grow a single blade of grass.

That was the result of me having chosen ‘nothing’.

I took another sip of coffee. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if to refresh my mood. Being trapped for a long time was not a problem that would change anything.

I closed the window I was looking at and brought up the illustration program on the screen instead. The work created using only two colors, black and white, was the result of a short study over the past week.

It’s a given, but I had almost no social weapons to speak of. At Phantom, the things I could do were mostly menial tasks such as assisting with the delivery of sold works, moving heavy items, and providing simple guidance to visitors when others were absent or busy.

I thought I should at least learn the basics of Illustrator or Photoshop right away, so I borrowed a laptop from my manager and bought a few books based on recommendations from Yuni and Juhan. The video lectures were included, so I was able to quickly learn very basic functions, but it was still not enough to be helpful for my work.

However, just because I couldn’t help right now, I couldn’t just stop at updating customers’ address books, organizing returned mail, cleaning, and driving. I had to be more helpful. I wanted to do that.

A routine that continues even without doing anything is no different from the moment I stepped over the threshold of the front gate, leaving my father behind in that rainy dawn, as I had already given up on it myself.

“What is it, Seo Ihyun, are you studying illustration these days?””Someone touched my right shoulder from behind and leaned their face over my left shoulder.” He was my older brother in Korea.

As I took off my sunglasses and looked at the screen, I felt embarrassed by the clumsy work in front of my brother, but I didn’t try to hide it.

“Huh?” Did you happen to draft a proposal for this advertisement?”Yuni noona sat on the stool next to me and turned the laptop a bit more towards herself.”

We voluntarily decided to work on Saturday to reduce the workload for Monday. Since Uni wanted to buy a few plants to decorate the gallery, we planned to stop by the flower market here before heading to Phantom. I didn’t expect that the two people would arrive 20 minutes earlier than the scheduled time.

Showing my shortcomings to others brought as much tension as showing a painting to them.

“It’s not like that… it’s just for practice…””It’s okay….” It’s more surprising that you pulled this off with basic skills.”She lightly tapped my shoulder and spoke in a quiet tone.” It didn’t sound like a meaningless remark.

These days, all of Phantom’s work was focused on preparing for the solo exhibition of the artist Shushu, which was moved up by a week.

The artist Shushu was the main artist for Phantom, so it was decided to publish an exhibition advertisement in an art magazine, and his sister and brother had to create the advertisement draft while working on other projects.

It may not be of much help, but it was an idea I came up with to practice the skills I learned. I felt like I had to do something.

“You seem to have done some research on the author Shushu?””Juhan tapped my shoulder and laughed.”

“The outline is clear, which is good.” Overall, the color scheme is simple while the images are dynamic, which is exactly the style of the artist’s work, right? You can keep this part and use it. Is it okay?”Sister pointed to an image like a flexible wave made up of black letters with her fingertip.”

“If you do that, I would be grateful…””So are you sending it to my email now?””While my sister opened a browser to access her email, Hyung Juhan briefly left his seat to order drinks.”

I fiddled with the coffee cup while waiting for my sister to finish her work.

The front of the bar had a large window, allowing a view of the street on a Saturday afternoon. Sitting in a place like this and watching people felt as if I were watching TV, lacking a sense of reality. Recently, due to the rapid changes in the surrounding environment over the past month or two, there have been many times when I felt disconnected from my current life.

The first day I went to Phantom, in the taxi I took to go home after work, I had a feeling that if I went back to that place, Phantom would be gone… that similar feeling.

“Everything was a dream, Seo Ihyun.” Let’s return to reality.”As if someone would suddenly grab them by the neck.”

“Huh?” Were you looking at the Old Future homepage?”Seeing Uni noona smile at me as she said that made me feel a little relieved.” It was still reality. At least not yet.

“Yes, the website content is diverse, so I looked around for a while.” By the way, sister. I want to buy pants from Old Future… This one.I found the thumbnail of the pants I had seen earlier on the Old Future site and showed it to my sister.

“Is it okay if I give the money directly to my sister and receive it from her?””What is it? Are you trying to return the favor because you received a gift?””No.” No, it’s not completely wrong… I just think it’s pretty.”Neither right nor wrong, my strange answer made my sister laugh while pressing her eyebrow piercing.”

“It’s fine if you do it that way… you can just sign up and make the payment.””The phone… is not in my name.” I tried to sign up, but it didn’t work.”Isn’t it four people?” So? These days, it must be really inconvenient if the phone is not registered in your own name.”After finishing the order, Hyung Juhan returned and naturally joined the conversation while placing the vibrating bell on the bar.”

“A disposable phone… it’s similar.””Even if I couldn’t become a member of Phantom, I wanted to continue the bond with Uni and Juhan.” However, since I have come to the position of working in the same gallery, I expected that someday I would have to give a rough explanation about my current situation, even if I couldn’t reveal everything.

Being in an unusual situation is something you can’t help but feel when you see each other every day and spend time together.

“A burner phone?” Why use a burner phone?”Hyung Juhan lowered his voice and asked while pulling the stool closer to me.”

“I can’t go into detail because it’s not just about me… but my brother and sister, who I lived with before moving to the director’s house… it’s pretty much like we ran away from the town we originally lived in.” So…”Did the three escape?”The horizontally long-shaped eyes became a bit more droopy.

“Yes.””An unusual escape.” Two men and one woman?”

“Yes.””Are those two possibly a couple?””This time, I just nodded in response, and my brother lightly poked me with his elbow while smiling somewhat slyly.”

“Hey… Seo Ihyun is so oblivious.””Would they have recklessly intervened between the couple?” That can’t be all.”Yuni noona thought so positively of me… but perhaps I really am as clueless as Juhan said.”

I know that Sand and Han-i couldn’t have thought of me that way. However, regardless of how they viewed it, when looking at the situation up to now, it is a fact that I have gone through a time that cannot be excused, even if I were called a ‘clueless kid.’

“So that’s why I couldn’t get a contract as a full-time employee.””Uni noona rested her chin on her hand and lightly tapped the lip piercing with her finger, nodding as if she finally understood.”

Given the situation, it was risky to work in a way that left records in the National Tax Service or anywhere else that could be queried. Because of that, I couldn’t write a formal employment contract, and I worked at the moving company for a slightly lower daily wage than others. In temporary jobs, there are occasionally similar cases, and my employer, who was also like a foreman, had experienced many different people, so he hired me without asking too deeply. I was lucky.

However, I didn’t expect that the representative of Phantom, who is known to be picky about people, would try to hire me knowing my situation.

That night, I thought that the reason the director had made the job offer at the dining table was because he still didn’t know my situation. If I realize that I cannot report it as a formal employee and process the costs, and that I might get caught up in troublesome situations, I would cancel the proposal and try to back out.

However, the director who spoke with him said that he agreed to work without formally reporting the hiring of employees until the situation improves, and explained the conditions that were offered. Considering my situation, or rather, even without that, it was a sufficiently excellent condition.

Even if there are other reasons for his decision that I am unaware of, and even if it later becomes my weakness, for now, I am grateful for his decision.

Right now, I was eager to become a part of Phantom and work, and I wanted to seize the opportunity even if it meant taking risks.

“But I see you differently now, Seo Yi-hyun. I thought you were just a well-raised, diligent young man, but you were a troublemaker using a burner phone. But… you’re not committing crimes and running away, right?”

Juhan Hyung asked, gnawing on the end of a green straw. I burst out laughing and shook my head. As if embarrassed by his own question, Hyung chuckled too.

“I’m curious about your story, but you look like someone who keeps things very close to the chest, so I won’t ask.”

Noona said playfully, slinging an arm over my shoulder.

“There’s a reason you fit in with us, who are embodiments of desire, even though you seem like an embodiment of detachment. Besides, who doesn’t have a story if you dig deep enough? You might look fine on the outside, but you never know what’s going on inside.”

This time, Juhan Hyung placed a hand on my shoulder, a heavy weight.

The vibration bell on the bar shook violently. Frowning at the unpleasant noise, Noona quickly picked up the bell.

“Let’s get our drinks and go. We need to head out if we’re going to the market before the office. It’ll probably overlap with the CEO’s arrival time at the gallery?”

This place, where the Phantom had not yet vanished, was still my reality.

■ ■ ■

“CEO!”

Yooni Noona called out in a cheerful voice, waving her hand out the taxi window.

The familiar large sedan was parked in front of Phantom. He, who had just finished parking and was getting out of the driver’s seat, raised his hand to shoulder height in response to Noona’s greeting. A gentle smile beneath his dark sunglasses.

Noona got out first, and Juhan Hyung and I followed after paying. Noona was already by his car.

“Where are the artworks?”

“They’ll be here shortly. But….”

He slowly reduced speed, entering the empty space where the taxi had been, and looked at a one-ton truck. He took off his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes. The truck was loaded with about ten large and small potted plants.

“I told you. I’m bringing some plants into the gallery.”

At Noona’s reply, he crossed his arms and stroked his chin.

“Hmm… not a great idea. We’ll probably kill them all?”

“One person who won’t kill them has arrived.”

Noona said confidently, slinging an arm over my shoulder, but he looked at me with a skeptical expression.

“Have you grown things like this before?”

“Yes… my parents used to grow a lot.”

Both of them loved plants. From relatively easy-to-care-for Sansevieria, cacti, Chinese Evergreen, and Anthurium, to large pots like Fiddle-leaf figs, Areca palms, and Alocasia. The small balcony had been like a jungle.

“Well, seeing how Manager Han keeps his place, I guess you won’t kill them at least.”

He folded the arms of his sunglasses and tucked them into his chest pocket, nodding in agreement. Yooni Noona showed interest in his words.

“Has Manager Han’s place gotten that clean?”

A smile slowly spread across his face. It was a smile tinged with a hint of mischievousness.

“If you’re that curious, why don’t you visit? Stop hanging around with Kwon Juhan all the time without any real purpose.”

“I’ll pass on the CEO’s equally purposeless advice. Help us unload the plants instead.”

He ruffled Noona’s short hair and chuckled. It seemed like they were exchanging barbed remarks, but like most conversations between close people, it sounded like a code to a third party not included in their relationship, making it impossible to grasp the underlying meaning.

It was quick work to receive the potted plants being brought down from the truck by the delivery driver and move them into the office. There were four of us.

He suggested we get coffee outside while waiting for the artworks, and I took it to mean going to a nearby cafe, but that wasn’t the case.

Passing the parking lot at the main entrance and turning right along the building wall, there was a secret space surrounded by well-maintained shrubs. It was a small courtyard filled with a four-person table set with a parasol.

“It’s unfair to work on a Saturday, and the weather is so nice too?”

He took out his sunglasses from his chest pocket and put them on, looking up at the sky diagonally over the parasol.

“The artworks could have been brought in tomorrow, but we’re rushing because you wanted it that way.”

Yooni Noona said, scraping ice cream with a plastic spoon.

At the Hanok cafe next door, the CEO and I chose iced Americano, while Yooni Noona and Juhan Hyung opted for ice cream. The season was now closer to early summer, making it perfect for enjoying cold drinks and ice cream outdoors.

“It’s hard to stay still when I think about making money.”

He opened the lid of the takeout cup, removed the straw, and drank the coffee directly from the cup with a smirk.

I paused, stirring the ice with my straw. His attitude towards the artist Shushu was so peculiar that his remark, which seemed to directly equate the value of the artist’s work with money, was quite unexpected. He leaned back loosely, hands clasped behind his head, with a relaxed expression. His face was full of a satisfaction that made it seem like he might hum a tune.

“Are the artist’s new works that good?”

“……”

He didn’t answer. Only the satisfied smile that had been subtly playing on his face beneath his sunglasses deepened. His expression, withholding an answer, was enough. His talk of money was just talk.

He cherished Shushu’s works so much that he found them too precious to speak of carelessly, even hesitant to express his true feelings about them. Perhaps, he cherished the artist herself who brought those works into being.

“Then we should make some money too. Remember we’re scheduled for a shoot next Sunday?”

Juhan Hyung, who had already finished his ice cream, dropped his spoon into the empty paper cup and rubbed his palms together. His expression was like a ‘Tom’ delighted by how he would cook ‘Jerry.’

In contrast, he sat up straight, leaning back loosely, and scowled.

“Ah….”

“You forgot?”

Hyung raised his voice.

“Do we really have to do it that day? The exhibition opens on Saturday. We’ll definitely be drinking all night.”

“The CEO will be passed out drunk all night, sleeping it off. We’ll handle the shoot and come back.”

Yooni Noona seemed completely unfazed that he had forgotten.

“I don’t recall paying you little… what will you do with the money you earn?”

“I need to go abroad for studies.”

“Then I’ll have to stop the shoot. It’ll be my loss if you all quit.”

The three of them were exchanging playful banter. I seemed to be the only one surprised by the mention of studying abroad from Yooni Noona. Whether it was her own plan or a project involving Juhan Hyung, it was clear she was considering studying abroad, and judging by the CEO’s reaction, he didn’t seem to be hearing it for the first time either.

The diagonal shadow dividing the table grew darker. Everyone was diligently connecting their present to their future.

“And half of my greed was learned from you, CEO.”

After eating her ice cream with the spoon from the side, avoiding her lip piercing, Yooni Noona pointed at the CEO with the spoon. He smiled broadly, raising the corners of his lips, and said.

“I’m always honored by that. But isn’t making money also fun?”

“Exactly. What’s the point of doing nothing? Making money is what lasts.”

“You make money doing what you love, while playing. Kids these days are different. I’m jealous.”

“But the scale is different from yours. Even if we worked our whole lives, we couldn’t afford a car like that.”

Noona gestured towards his car parked at the front gate, only the front bumper partially visible from their spot. He let out a deflated, self-deprecating bitter laugh. Then, as if to erase the bitter aftertaste of his laughter, he snatched the spoon from Noona’s hand as she was about to put it in her mouth and swallowed the ice cream. It wasn’t a rare prank; Noona showed no surprise and simply scooped more ice cream onto the spoon.

Judging by his features, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume he had a touch of mysophobia, but he didn’t seem particular about such things in reality.

“You say that, but you have no desire for things like that. My only joy in life is making money, buying things like that, and showing them off.”

He said it in a light tone, but the subtle shift in atmosphere among the three of them indicated it was a topic that couldn’t be easily touched upon. It was a topic that could only be mentioned in jest, and any deeper delve would shatter the peace of the moment. Studying abroad, his materialism – to me, these seemed like such sensitive topics.

“CEO, you’re the one who’s not interested in a life lived only on dreams, so what are you talking about? Provide a space for us twenty-somethings who only have our bodies and dreams. Just open the door.”

He still looked displeased, but he didn’t seem inclined to push the conversation further.

If someone from Phantom were to leave, he would oppose it, but it was hard to picture him trying to hold onto someone by deeply intervening in their life, regardless of who it was.

“If you don’t have plans, want to come with us? We’re shooting clothes for the Old Future update, and we’re shooting in your garden. It’s quite desolate there, so the photos turn out well. It’s completely unkempt.”

Juhan Hyung invited me, but the space he invited me to was his house. I was flustered about how to respond, so I looked at him, but he just grumbled playfully, “Why do I have to be criticized like this even after providing the location?” It was Noona who noticed my gaze and understood the meaning.

“Are you worried about the CEO? It’s okay. We’re only shooting in the garden anyway. CEO, can Lee Hyun come too?”

“You said you’d do as you please while I’m sleeping and leave. Do as you wish. Just don’t wake me up.”

He said nonchalantly, rummaging through his jacket draped over the back of his chair for a cigarette pack. Noona, scooping the last bite of ice cream with her spoon, gestured with her eyes, asking if he had any thoughts. Instead of lighting his cigarette, he leaned forward and ate it. Licking the sweetness left on his lips, he scrunched his brow and mouth.

“Ugh, I really don’t like sweet things.”

Noona and Hyung laughed heartily at his reaction.

His dislike for sweets was as expected, but then why did he accept whatever was offered, and why did he snatch Noona’s ice cream earlier without anyone offering it? I also burst out laughing belatedly at the man’s unpredictable, childlike behavior.

As the delivery truck carrying the pamphlets arrived, Noona, Hyung, and I were about to get up, but Noona pressed down on my shoulder, saying it wasn’t necessary for three people and that they would be using me extensively today, so I shouldn’t tire myself out beforehand.

If it wasn’t necessary for three people, she should have just stayed and let me go. I was still awkward being alone with just her…

“Speaking of which, did you quit the moving company? Or rather, you couldn’t quit because you couldn’t leave?”

Still, he was asking me questions first now, and at least he seemed to have stopped treating me like I didn’t exist.

“Yes. I used to go out whenever the situation allowed…”

That didn’t mean he was now considering my feelings. He showed no attempt to hide his lack of interest, even though he was the one who brought up the topic.

“How have things been since then?”

“……”

But his expression changed when he talked about things he was interested in. Just like now. Lighting a cigarette he had been holding between his fingers without smoking, he looked at me with a face sparkling with mischievousness.

I couldn’t tell what he was asking about, so I focused my gaze on his eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, or rather, on the sunglasses themselves.

“Are things going well with Choi In-woo?”

As if he felt his question was childish, he chuckled and added another.

“Is he still contacting you?”

“Sometimes… he asks if I’m eating well… things like that.”

“Choi In-woo? About meals?”

As if it were impossible, he snorted, like someone shaking their head, disbelieving such a heartwarming tale of a notorious scoundrel reforming. Then he took off his sunglasses, placed them on the table, and tilted his head towards my shoulder, looking over at me.

“Choi In-woo must really see Seo Yi-hyun as someone he cares about. To be curious about whether you’re eating, of all things.”

I couldn’t understand the meaning behind his words. Wasn’t the benevolence he offered as advice based on ‘a sense of responsibility’ fulfilled that night?

Watching him smoke and drink coffee, I suppressed the urge to ask, ‘Then why do you keep asking about my relationship with In-woo Hyung?’ It felt like it would be a regrettable provocation. No, it felt like it wouldn’t even work as a provocation and would become a weakness.

The gallery was closed, but the streets of Samcheong-dong on a Saturday in early summer were bustling with people. Although the courtyard was hidden by tall shrubs, the voices of people passing by were clearly audible, so close were they. Every voice was filled with joy.

My coffee, barely touched, had not diminished in volume as the ice melted. The smoke rising from the cigarette in his hand drifted lightly from the shade towards the light. The edge of the parasol, covered with a cheerful blue and white striped awning, fluttered. Suddenly, I wanted to try on his sunglasses lying on the table. But I lacked the courage to act on it.

Leaning his elbows on the table, he leaned his upper body towards me. He brushed his eyebrow with the ring finger of his smoking hand and said.

“Or… are you no longer interesting because you’re not an Alpha or an Omega?”

“……”

As he said that, he smiled slightly. This time, unlike before, it seemed like he was showing a twisted interest because I was no longer an Omega. That’s how it appeared to me. Someone who was very angry because I wasn’t an Omega.

However, that twisted interest didn’t last long. His phone on the table vibrated, and he unceremoniously stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the portable ashtray and quickly got up.

The truck carrying the artworks had arrived.

■ ■ ■

Eight months after the ‘Body & Soul’ exhibition, which received a heated response from visitors, critics, and industry media, Shushu, with his ‘Body to Soul’ series, not only solidified the perfection of his unique style but also once again proved his deepened thematic depth.

‘Body’ as a means of expressing ‘Soul.’

‘Body’ suffering from a mismatch with the ‘Soul.’

‘Body’ existing physically, independent of the ‘Soul.’

In his treatment of the ‘body’ as a subject matter, Shushu has reached a level of mastery that belies his age and experience.

As if sending a mature taunt to some art circles who still refuse to recognize photography as an art form, dismissing it as merely an auxiliary tool for documentation, he presents an extreme method in this ‘Body to Soul’ series, using only light and shadow, or lines and planes.

The resulting works, which almost abandon photography’s realistic characteristics, are closer to traditional painting than photography.

As everyone knows, the simpler the style, the more clearly the foundation’s thickness is revealed. In terms of Korean cuisine, he has prepared a magnificent meal with just a handful of rice and a head of kimchi. A meal that is honest and concise, yet retains its dignity and individuality.

Faced with a style that only Shushu can deliver, and not just a style but a serious and fundamental contemplation of life and humanity, a profound thematic consciousness etched into his works after rigorous self-reflection, one can only marvel at the external and internal world of this young artist.

In front of his works, I always feel anguish.

I discover myself in his works, a self I don’t want to face, and I want to turn away, pretend not to see, and walk away.

And at the same time, if I could, if I could muster more courage, I feel an uncharacteristic urge to confront that self just once. Because he, too, must have poured his soul into his works through such a process of suffering.

But I know. This is not something that can be attempted with impulsive courage alone. I will probably continue to be cowardly.

And through his work, for a brief moment, I would be reminded of my own cowardice, and thus, I would live on with the shallow comfort of having defended a minimum of humanity. No matter what anyone says, that is the meaning art holds for me. Behind the continuous daily grind, it places us before grand themes to contemplate the vague meaning of life.

As both a dealer, collector, and ardent fan of his work, I await the pieces he will show in the future with both excitement and anguish.

■ ■ ■

The pamphlets were printed without incident. The color separation was correct, page 14 did not follow page 3, nor was it bound askew. By packing them today and sending them to customers tomorrow, the process proceeded as scheduled and without issue.

While printing the addresses to be affixed to the envelopes onto stickers, I sat at the conference table and picked up one of the 500-odd pamphlets piled high to examine it.

The critic’s preface, following the artist’s biography which featured no photographs of his face, was, frankly, predictably pedantic and old-fashioned for an essay on an exhibition hosted by Phantom. However, even if it was a necessary packaging process for ‘sales’ to imbue the paintings with meaning using plausible jargon, invoking ontology and existential thought.

What was groundbreaking was the introduction by the Phantom representative, Lau Wikun, that followed.

I had heard from my older sister and brother that it was extremely rare for a gallery representative’s introduction to be included in a member artist’s exhibition pamphlet, in addition to a critic’s preface. But the content was even more astonishing.

Unlike most critiques published in official materials, which describe the level of quality based on objective standards, his writing was highly personal, and he seemed to be aware of this, yet showed no intention of revising it. He did not hesitate to express his affection for the artist and his intensely personal impressions.

Words of a very personal and fervent confession about the artist’s delicate yet strong soul and the original works born from the projection of that soul… It felt like a love letter.

‘In front of his works, I always feel anguish.’

Works that draw out the anguish of confronting oneself from him, who seems like he would never reveal his true feelings to anyone, someone who even dismisses the words about the important elements that make up his life as jokes. And the person who creates such works…

“These damn bastards, they’re at it again.”

At Juhan Hyung’s rough curse, I tore my eyes away from the pamphlet and looked up. Keeping his gaze fixed on his phone, Hyung quickly added in an excited tone.

“I did a quick search on Shushu artist’s current exhibition… Do you know what the blog post title is? ‘Are the artworks of Alphas and Omegas any different from creations in a state of hallucination?’ They’re spouting this crap.”

The post Hyung sent me in indignation implied that the works of Alphas and Omegas, who can experience special states like estrus, were no different from works created in a hallucinatory state after drug use, subtly devaluing their artistic worth.

He showed even more overt hostility, suggesting, “Who knows if Golden Alphas and Golden Omegas, who can induce a state of intense sexual arousal in themselves at will, were aided in their creativity by exposure to pheromones?”

“What kind of people are these? Is it a Beta complex? Or are they from another gallery, so they just bash it regardless of whether it makes sense? No, what does sexual arousal have to do with creativity? If he gets aroused, does he suddenly want to draw or compose? Even if that’s the case. What can a work created from sexual arousal be, other than obscene? They say ignorance is bravery. They really have nothing better to do.”

At the signal indicating the sticker printing was complete, Hyung stood up. The sound of him pushing his chair back was rough, reflecting his disheveled state of mind.

It was true that many successful people in various fields came from among Alphas and Omegas, not just Golden Alphas and Golden Omegas. However, that was merely the high proportion of successful individuals among Alphas and Omegas; the absolute majority of people who achieved a certain level of success in their respective fields were Betas. This was a natural consequence, given that Alphas and Omegas were a minuscule minority in the population.

Various theories exist regarding the origin and history of Alphas and Omegas, and while no officially recognized consensus has been adopted, the most plausible theory is that in pre-civilization eras, when mortality rates were high, the proportion of Alphas and Omegas, who had excellent reproductive capabilities, was much higher than it is now, and as humanity gradually settled and began agricultural societies, the proportion of Betas steadily increased.

In medieval Europe, they were treated as cursed variants, leading to movements to eradicate them in some countries and regions. Conversely, in ancient China, Alphas and Omegas were revered as children of the gods, and some dynasties existed where even Betas were not recognized as royalty, let alone emperors.

The process of them building their current image—that Alphas and Omegas are outwardly attractive and possess outstanding abilities in various fields—began after the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century. It is largely attributed to their efforts to preserve their lineage, being a minority in a rapidly and chaotically changing society, which led them to acquire wealth and social influence.

In reality, there was no evidence to suggest they were genetically superior to Betas. However, in many societies, Alphas and Omegas were predominantly from the upper class (though not all of the upper class were Alphas or Omegas), and consequently, in modern times, the number of Alphas and Omegas who benefited from favorable opportunities due to environmental and social factors has increased.

Furthermore, from the perspective of the vast majority, Betas, elements like pheromones, which could be interpreted romantically, also contributed to them being featured as subjects in various films and dramas, and becoming popular in relatively open fields like the entertainment industry.

However, just as there were those who blindly admired them for being different, there were undoubtedly those who looked down on them for being different.

Whether Alpha, Omega, or Beta, if there were a real social class in the modern world, it was, frankly, wealth. As the moving company foreman once said, it was a reality that life was even more difficult for Alphas and Omegas without financial backing due to their special constitutions.

“Is the artist… an Omega?”

“Yeah. A Golden Omega.”

As Hyung began putting the 500-odd pamphlets into envelopes with almost mechanical movements, he added.

“Honestly, if you actually saw Shushu artist, you might think there really is that… Omega aura. Like someone very noble? More than being handsome, their aura is special. Ah, this can’t be explained without seeing it in person. Anyway, with that kind of appearance and aura, they had many fans from their dancing days, and many followed them when they transitioned to this field. Being a Golden Omega with a striking appearance became an issue, and some people became interested in the art world thanks to the artist. Whether Alpha, Omega, or Beta, it’s a world where appearance is advantageous. Even athletes, who have nothing to do with their looks, are more popular if they have a good face.”

Golden Alpha and Golden Omega.

It was a fitting designation, as if they were destined partners from before birth. It also brought to mind a pair of luxurious and elegant wedding watches.

“So, they’ve completely quit dancing now and are only doing photography?”

Hyung, having finished packing about 50 copies in an instant, paused for a moment, scratched his cheek with his index finger, and frowned.

“Well… they injured their leg.”

Although I had done some research on Shushu artist for the magazine ad draft, I had deliberately avoided information outside of their work, so I was largely ignorant of their personal life.

“They say they were injured in an accident while studying abroad… It doesn’t affect their daily life, but professional dancing is apparently out. They were said to be a tremendous prospect, but I know nothing about dancing. Before studying abroad for dance, they mostly lived in Hong Kong. How would I know?”

Hyung shrugged and resumed the task of putting pamphlets into envelopes. My hands didn’t stop either as I listened to Hyung. The pile of pamphlets rapidly diminished, as if the number 500 was meaningless, and they were being moved from one side of the table to the other, clad in white envelopes.

An artist with an interesting background. Someone who studied dance abroad, lived mostly in Hong Kong before that, and is now active as a photographer in Seoul, a Golden Omega.

I wanted to know more about the reason for their transition to photography, but asking further personal questions would be considered idle chatter during work. Besides, I could always research the artist online.

When about 50 pamphlets remained in front of Hyung and me, my older sister returned to the office.

“Not done yet?”

Hyung gestured with his chin towards the shallow layer of pamphlets at the front.

“All done. This is what’s left. What about the display?”

“Almost complete. Except for two or three pieces we’re still considering.”

Since the entire second floor had been cleared for Shushu artist’s exhibition, the artworks were hung in the exhibition hall today without the need to move them from the basement storage. My sister, who had just finished that task with the representative, plopped down next to me and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.

“I’m getting hungry. Want to get some pho?”

“Sounds good.”

Juhan Hyung replied cheerfully, affixing the address sticker to the last envelope and patting it with his hand.

With the work finished and my sister suggesting we go for pho, I felt a slight sense of urgency.

Ever since I read the line in the pamphlet’s introduction, ‘In front of his works, I always feel anguish,’ I had been curious about what kind of work could elicit such an honest confession from someone like him.

“Um, could I go see the artworks? Seeing the pamphlet made me curious about the real thing…”

“Of course, go on up.”

My sister, still looking at the ceiling with her chin raised, blinked and smiled up at me. Then, as I was about to open the office door and leave, she called me back.

“Lee Hyun, when you go up, ask the representative if they want to go for pho together. They should still be upstairs.”

However, when I went up to the second floor, he was nowhere to be seen. If I looked around, he would appear from somewhere. Or perhaps he had already returned to the first floor before me.

I slowly made my way to the exhibition room on the far right. Unlike the previous group exhibition featuring multiple artists, the wide spacing between the artworks was the first thing that caught my eye. It was an environment that allowed for much greater focus on each individual piece.

Body to Soul.

Reality and unreality. Dream and horror. Freedom and confinement. Ascent and comfort. Pity and contempt.

A body expressed solely in black silhouette against a white background.

The body, having lost its expression and contours, existing only as an outline and a solid black within it, was something other than a body.

Boundaries blur, and eventually become meaningless. Is it a black silhouette on a white background, or a white silhouette printed on a black background? Does experience shape a person’s character, or does the quality of the same experience differ depending on the person who goes through it?

It becomes unknowable. It becomes ambiguous. It becomes no one’s fault, everything becomes grand, and everything becomes nothing.

What remains in the space that has repeatedly expanded and contracted, as if breathing… what is seen in a state where nothing is important…

“How is it?”

A voice suddenly came from the left, the entrance of the exhibition room. But strangely, I was not surprised. It was as if someone had told me that he would appear at this point and utter these exact words to me.

I slowly turned my head.

Leaning against the partition wall at the entrance, he looked at me with his hands in his pant pockets. I couldn’t tell how long he had been there. It didn’t matter.

He pushed himself off the wall and began to walk closer to me. In the all-white space, the sound of his shoes made black dots.

“Choi In-woo said your eyes, Seo Yi-hyun, are better than most critics. I’m curious about your impressions.”

Regardless of what In-woo Hyung had said, or how much sincerity was contained in those words, I had no eye for paintings. At least, I lacked the objective insight to persuade industry professionals. Even when I was actively painting, I was solely absorbed in expressing the world I saw in my own way, and had no interest in anything else.

But if he wanted to hear my impressions, there was no need to pretend I felt nothing.

I turned my head back to face the artwork before me.

It was a photograph where, from the black silhouette, it was impossible to tell if the body belonged to one person or two. Based on the volume, it looked like the shadow of one person, yet the angles of the hands and neck suggested a pose that couldn’t be achieved alone.

The important thing was not whether the model was one person or two. It was enough to focus on what I, standing before this work, wanted to see as the subject.

“In the work… I don’t see the artist.”

“……”

I deliberately did not look back at him.

He had lightly provoked me, demanding my impressions as if to say, ‘Tell me what you think of this work,’ but in my opinion, he would not be able to maintain his composure after hearing my impressions.

Because the works filling this space were ‘Shushu’s.’ The works that made him anguished, forced him to confront life, and then confess them.

“I see myself, not the artist.”

“……”

“Looking at it, I feel like painting.”

Only after saying that much did I turn to look at him. His eyes were fixed on me, not on the artwork.

This was the same exhibition hall where we first met. His grey-blue eyes, like the foam of crashing waves, indifferently asked about my identity. Eyes devoid of any curiosity. Eyes that would show more color if they discovered a newly placed potted plant in an empty spot.

But it was different now. His eyes were looking deeply into me. As if wanting to find a hint to some question within my own eyes.

More than the false declaration of being gay, more than the declaration of being a Beta and not an Omega, the confession that I felt like painting—a confession that held immense meaning for me, though he didn’t know it—shook him more profoundly and caused cracks in his eyes.

His gaze moved away from mine, probing various parts of my face: the tip of my nose, my lips, my cheeks, my eyebrows, my forehead… As I was fascinated by his gaze examining me, allowing myself to be explored, a scent was drawn into my breath.

A scent that felt like it was sinking heavily, yet stimulated by wrapping around my ankles or wrists, and then suddenly grabbing me intensely. A scent that seemed to spread languidly, then press down strongly.

Drawn in, I approached him. I leaned forward until the tip of my nose was almost touching his shoulder, then straightened my back and looked up into his eyes.

“Your perfume… is very unusual.”

What expression would he wear in front of my paintings?

What kind of introductory text would he write about my work? I became curious about that.

■ ■ ■

“Hani Hyung’s trademark is his bangs. They’re so long they could poke your eyes out, but they’re cut perfectly straight, as if with a ruler. But they suit him very well. When he’s busy, he pins his bangs back with a plastic clip, which makes him look a bit cute.”

I drew Hani Hyung with his straight bangs on the spring notebook Morae had given me. I also added the yellow plastic clip shaped like a ribbon that Hyung sometimes used.

I don’t know where he got that hair clip, which was clearly for children, but when he had to revise catalog proofs late into the night or eat jjajangmyeon hastily in a corner of the office for a late lunch, Hyung would pull it out from somewhere and pin his bangs back. Once, he even ran back into the office cursing himself after going out to greet visitors while wearing it.

“Yooni Noona… has short hair. It’s very jet-black short hair, and I thought she dyed it, but she said it’s her natural color. And her eyes are big, her pupils very clear. Even though she’s short and petite… she doesn’t seem small. It’s only when she stands next to you that you can realize, ‘Ah, Noona isn’t that tall.’ It feels like her presence is so large that she doesn’t seem small. Phantom would be paralyzed without her. The Manager also gets anxious without Yooni Noona, to the point that Juhan Hyung teases him about separation anxiety.”

Morae, who was resting her chin on her hand beside me, watched the image of Yooni Noona I was completing with an intrigued expression. The lip piercing of Yooni Noona was just being finished at the tip of the three-color ballpoint pen. Two or three stars were added to her pupils in the style of an old comic book.

“The two of them… they seem like fraternal twins. More precisely… Juhan Hyung seems like the male version of Yooni Noona, and Yooni Noona seems like the female version of Juhan Hyung… that kind of feeling. But if you said that, they probably wouldn’t like it. They’d get angry?”

As if I could see and hear their displeased expressions and voices saying, ‘How am I similar to this person?’, I drew lightning between the two people on the paper and laughed foolishly.

“This is a complicated feeling.”

“What is?”

Morae, tilting her head askew with her chin in her hand, narrowed her eyes and shook her head as she looked at me.

“Now that I think Seo Yi-hyun has grown up, I feel both proud and a little sad.”

I chuckled at her words as if they were trivial, but I knew exactly what she meant. She was the one who, without any nagging or persuasion, had opened the door for change by simply being there, steadfastly and persistently, by my side when I tried to avoid interacting with anyone other than Morae and Hyung, finding even the smallest change overwhelming.

She did it not because I was her boyfriend’s problematic cousin, but simply because she was someone who didn’t treat the pain of others, or pain itself, as lighter than her own. If someone else had been in my place, she would have done the same.

Without her constant, steady, and weighty kindness, a kindness from a stranger with no blood relation, I wouldn’t be here today. It was a new foundation that she and Hani Hyung had built over a long time.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“You’re full of confidence, aren’t you? You think you’ve grown that much already? Huh?”

Morae placed her hand on my shoulder and patted me. I laughed at her roguish expression, like a thug trying to steal money.

“It’s not that I can do it well, it’s that it will work out somehow.”

If there was one thing that had changed most significantly since coming to Seoul, it was that. I had tried to avoid stepping in any direction, fearing change, but when I finally took a step, the world didn’t collapse, nor did I transform into a different being.

I looked at Morae, who was gazing at me, and added, seeking her agreement.

“Everyone else lives like that too, don’t they? No?”

“That’s right. Because there isn’t enough time, or anything else, to wait until you’re perfectly prepared.”

I applied her words to herself.

I knew that the time she was spending here now was not a completion or a destination for her. She wasn’t someone who would reveal her anxieties to others, but she was likely still losing sleep, thinking about her next journey.

“What about that person? What’s the representative like?”

She asked, changing the mood with a cheerful voice. Caught off guard by the unexpected question, I instinctively leaned back and pressed the tip of my pen to my lips.

“He wears… a really wonderful perfume. A scent I’d never smelled before. Very unique.”

“Huh? That’s it?”

Morae looked disappointed, and I burst out laughing.

But I truly didn’t know how else to describe him. The color of his eyes, which seemed so mysterious to me, a pure Korean, his special trait as a Golden Alpha, his exotic appearance, his unique way of running a gallery… too many characteristics came to mind at once, yet none of them felt sufficient to define him.

The image that came to mind the moment I was asked the question was, humorously, his scent.

However, the scent that had so powerfully and memorably captured my sense of smell, when I tried to recall it specifically, only lingered at the tip of my nose like an elusive phantom, impossible to pinpoint.

I felt like I could draw it, but it was impossible to express with a three-color ballpoint pen on a spiral notebook.

‘What Happened in Bali’ had a new team of guests enter, and Morae briefly left her seat. I flipped through the pages of the spiral notebook, intending to draw the representative’s appearance for her. There weren’t many blank pages.

Bali. Kuta. Surfing camp. 5th Anniversary Promotion. 1-year long-term program. 15 million won per person.

My hand stopped at a brief memo, seemingly copied from somewhere. Each word was circled or underlined, as if showing signs of deliberation.

Under the memo ‘Condition: 2 or more people,’ there was a hastily scribbled comment: ‘Are they giving a discount because they only accept 2 or more people?’ Two different handwriting styles, perhaps from Morae and Hyung discussing the notebook, were scattered across the pages like doodles.

A rough picture emerged. It was information about a promotion at a surf school in Kuta, Bali, offering a special price for a 1-year long-term contract for two or more people. It likely included accommodation and lessons. With the years I’d spent eavesdropping on Morae and Hyung’s conversations, it wasn’t difficult to make such a guess.

Since they were already highly skilled surfers, the lesson fees alone would be considerable. With a 1-year term and accommodation included, it was certainly not a bad deal. A long-term surfing trip had always been their dream, and spending a year in Bali, contemplating life settled there, would be a good opportunity.

I glanced at Morae’s back. Seeing her profile as she chatted cheerfully with customers she seemed to know from her visits, I was suddenly struck by fear.

It had only been five minutes since I said they didn’t have to worry about me anymore, but just imagining separation felt overwhelming. I felt like I was standing alone in a desert at night, having lost everything.

It was the name written in a corner of the notebook that made me realize I needed to find my direction, even if it was through the stars, by slapping my own dazed, drooping cheeks.

Seo Yi-hyun.

And the circular border drawn over and over around that name.

The name that always made them hesitate when faced with a choice. Seo Yi-hyun.

Morae, who had taken orders from customers, was collecting the menus. I quickly turned back the pages.

“They’re regular customers, and they brought us gifts from their trip to Hong Kong. Try one.”

After relaying the order to Hyung in the kitchen, she placed a metal box on the table. When she opened the lid with a teddy bear drawn on it, it was full of butter cookies.

“Didn’t your gallery also have a business trip to Hong Kong? When was that?”

Morae sat down beside me again, picking up a cookie and eating it.

The entire team was scheduled for a business trip to Hong Kong in early July for an art fair. However, it hadn’t been decided yet whether even I, an intern, would be joining.

“It’s after this exhibition ends… probably in two or three weeks. But I still don’t know if I’ll be able to go.”

“It would be good if you could go. It’s a great opportunity.”

“But wouldn’t it be bad if there’s a record of my entry and exit?”

Morae said, finishing the other half of the cookie and putting her hand in her pants pocket, stretching her legs out long.

“Don’t worry about that. It would be difficult to find out where you are based solely on your entry and exit records… and they could probably find you right now if they wanted to. The fact that there’s no news yet just means they’re waiting for the right timing. So, just do what you want to do.”

Then she turned to me and smiled sweetly.

“Dad wants to find and take it out on me and Seo Yi-han, but you have nothing to do with this. You don’t need to hold back.”

I just watched her profile. Morae took a cookie from the box and placed it on my lips. Crunch. As I bit it in half with my teeth, the other half disappeared into her mouth.

“Mmm, it’s delicious. Let’s have it with coffee. It would be perfect with an Americano.”

Following Morae’s back as she walked behind the counter towards the coffee machine, I compulsively clicked the ballpoint pen in my hand.

I wanted to say that I would too.

That it was okay, that things would work out somehow, and that they no longer had to hesitate with their choices because of Seo Yi-hyun’s name. I wanted to tell Hyung and Morae confidently.

Morae was someone who stood perfectly balanced even on the foam of a precarious wave, but it was never recklessness. I knew no one more honestly devoted to life than her. Even if I hid my fear and said I was fine, I felt I couldn’t fool her.

That the current peace was merely a temporary sandcastle built on the edge of a beach where waves could crash at any moment. That my current days, working at Phantom surrounded by artworks and receiving a salary, living comfortably at Manager’s house, and studying illustration and Photoshop, were all made possible by the kind concern and understanding of people I was grateful for.

I erased the sketch where I had been outlining the representative’s face with zigzag lines.

I need to get my act together. For the sake of those who look back at me even when faced with their own desired paths, because they couldn’t leave me alone. I needed to get my act together and move my own two feet.

Because I now clearly understood that not choosing anything did not preserve the present.

■ ■ ■

Photographer Shushu.

Korean name: Jeong Se-in.

In Cantonese: Jeng Shuiyan.

Both parents are Korean, and he himself holds Korean nationality, but as a Golden Omega from a wealthy family, he was secretly known to have received a more stable education at the ‘Hong Kong Minton International School (H.M.I.S.)’, the only school in East Asia for Alphas and Omegas, where he completed his education from early childhood to high school before returning to his home country and enrolling in H University for modern dance. He then moved to New York and enrolled in M.G. Dance School.

During his recovery period after Achilles tendon surgery due to an injury sustained during practice, he suffered the same injury in the same area from an accident in his daily life. Furthermore, the surgical site became infected, requiring the removal of the affected area and subsequent transplant surgery, ending his career as a dancer.

He left his life in New York and returned to Korea.

Two years later, he debuted as a photographer through his first solo exhibition, ‘Body,’ at Phantom, the gallery run by Lau Wikun, an old acquaintance from his H.M.I.S. days.

With every exhibition selling out, he is now considered one of the most notable fine art photographers in the country, and through Lau Wikun’s aggressive marketing, he is aiming to become a global artist, starting with Hong Kong, Singapore, and Japan.

He was more frequently called by the nickname Shushu, derived from his Hong Kong name, by his family and acquaintances than by his real name, and he has been using the nickname as his artist name since then. It is known that he also used Shushu as his English name since his H.M.I.S. days.

His appearance, which is typical of a glamorous yet delicate Golden Omega, has garnered him many fans, leading to positive evaluations that he has drawn public interest to the art world. However, there are also views that he receives exaggerated praise beyond his skill due to his status as a Golden Omega and his appearance.

In any sense, he is undoubtedly an issue-maker in the current art scene and a central figure among young artists that even major galleries cannot ignore.

■ ■ ■

Although I had heard about it beforehand, the scale of the event was different from the previous group exhibition.

A photo wall had been set up in front of Phantom’s main entrance for the press conference and VIP invitation opening party for Shushu’s exhibition, ‘Body to Soul.’

Guests, dressed more elaborately than at the previous opening party, posed for photos at the photo wall in order of arrival, and about thirty reporters eagerly captured their images, flashing their cameras.

Reporters from art-related media outlets as well as culture desks of major newspapers were invited, and most of them responded to the invitation. This was proof that Shushu’s exhibition was a significant issue.

Since well-known actors and models were included in the VIP guest list, it was an opportunity to appeal to the general public, who might not be deeply interested in art. Even if they didn’t immediately become gallery customers, public interest could lead to increased influence for the gallery.

The temporary parking lot in front of the main entrance was filled with photo walls and reporters, and there was no more space to set up congratulatory flower wreaths. Beyond the barricades, fans of invited celebrities and passersby had gathered, making it resemble an event for a major clothing brand or a movie premiere rather than a gallery.

In the art world, even the most famous artists cannot compare to celebrities who appear on TV in terms of public recognition. Therefore, if celebrities attended such events, it could lead to an awkward situation where the focus shifts from the art to the guests. However, Shushu was an exception.

Arriving at Phantom in a luxury sedan with heavily tinted windows, accompanied by the Manager, he wore a plain black t-shirt and neat jeans, with no hint of being overly dressed up.

As Shushu, with his slightly long, wavy hair tucked behind his ears, stepped out of the back seat, he gave off the impression of a stylish artist even in just jeans and a t-shirt.

While people say that each person is the protagonist of their own life, looking at him, I thought, ‘Is this the kind of person who is the protagonist of the world, of all stories?’

Someone born to be a protagonist, someone who exists to be one.

I couldn’t think of any other way to describe him.

“Shushu, over here!”

“Please wave your hand!”

As reporters called out, he repeatedly tucked his falling hair behind his ears, biting his lower lip slightly as if embarrassed, making the impression of the celebrities and models who had passed through the photo wall before him fade away.

As soon as the photoshoot ended, he quickly looked for the Manager with his eyes, and the Manager, who had been watching from the side of the photo wall, led him and they disappeared inside the main entrance together.

“I love everything about you, Shushu!”

Someone shouted in English from beyond the barricade, perhaps a foreign fan, perhaps mindful of his long time abroad. Before disappearing completely inside, he glanced back, smiled, and waved.

■ ■ ■

Shushu took a few sips of the drink from his tumbler and puffed out his cheeks, exhaling a long breath.

He was scheduled to wait in the office and take a short break before the first part of the event, the press conference, began.

The Manager and the artist sat side-by-side in front of the conference table, while the Representative sat at an angle, leaning against the table a step away from the artist, rather than next to him. His gaze was fixed on the artist the entire time, and a faint smile that seemed to illuminate his entire face, rather than just his lips, made him feel like a stranger.

“Taking photos… can we not do it next time?”

Shushu asked him, looking up, cautiously but with sincerity.

Unlike his slightly shy yet seemingly accustomed demeanor at the photo wall, his slightly downturned eyes, filled with worry, and his lip-biting made him look like a child refusing to eat carrots. He looked like a child whose pouting was so endearing that you’d want to grant him anything, not like a child who vexes their parents with stubbornness.

“What power do I have? Talk to Manager Han.”

As if it wasn’t just my own thought, the Representative’s gaze, which deferred the answer to Manager Han and looked down at the artist, was as soft as if he were about to reach out and brush the artist’s hair. He had the air of an elder fondly watching a younger person’s trivial worries. However, as far as I knew, they were the same age.

The artist’s gentle eyes turned to the Manager beside him.

“Manager, is it really not possible?”

“You say that, but you do it skillfully and well once you start. It’s your destiny to live in the spotlight, Artist. Accept it.”

“Maybe in the past… but now, I’m the one taking the pictures, not the one being photographed.”

Perhaps it’s because of the gentle and neat tone of voice and the pleasant resonance. Even though I was nagging about work-related matters, it didn’t sound bad.

“You saw it earlier.” The fans are outside. Let’s do this little bit of fan service, thinking of those who love us. What?”As the director held his hand and squeezed it a couple of times while mentioning the fans, he let out a long sigh as if resigning to the fact that there was nothing more to say.”

“Then during the one-on-one interview, you will also come in with me, right?””Um… I might be a bit busy because I have to see off those customers.””After the first part of the event, which consisted of a press conference, and the second part, which was made up of socializing and a party, there was a scheduled exclusive interview with a major art magazine and the artist Shushu in the gallery’s reception room.”

I had heard in advance that he relies heavily on the director, but it seemed to be more serious than I expected. Upon hearing that I might not be able to accompany you to the interview, I made a face as if I had been sentenced to the end of the world, exaggerating a bit.

On the opposite side, in front of the partition that divides the inner office space and the meeting table, my brother Juhan, who was standing next to me, turned his head towards me and smiled softly, just enough for me to hear. Even Juhan was looking at those aspects of the older Shushu writer cutely.

“I’ll cover the farewell, so please go in with me.” Without the director, we can’t do anything.The representative, who had been leaning on the table, lightly placed a hand on the shoulder of the writer as he passed by the chairs where the writer and the manager were sitting.

“Sigh… It’s unfair to look at me with that face.” It’s a face that can’t say no.When the director, who had a sorrowful expression, waved a white flag after glancing at the writer, the writer finally seemed to relax and smiled. The smile that reveals teeth without a sound had a power that seemed to purify the very air around it, making it transparent.

The second person to easily change the atmosphere around them with their presence or actions was someone like me. Right here in this office, the CEO who made me feel trapped behind the glass walls and the Shushu right in front of me.

Although she was the main character of today, it was clear that everyone in the office was paying attention to the author Shushu not just for that reason.

“Director Han is so accommodating that it turned out that way.””Wow… Are you blaming me right now, CEO Ryu?” About Shushu?”At the sound of the director’s unjust voice, he turned around with a smile while pouring a glass of champagne in front of the window shelf.”

His appearance, enjoying exchanging jokes like this, was also unfamiliar. As far as I know, he was not someone who particularly enjoyed jokes, and even when he did joke around with Hyung or Uni, it was mostly in a teasing manner.

“So.” If there is a problem with the work, it’s basic to rush over at 2 or 3 in the morning and even volunteer as an assistant, and it’s probably not just one manager who prioritized Shushu unconditionally while completely disregarding the exhibition schedule of other artists.”Even Inwoo, who had arrived at the gallery early to avoid the photo wall event, joined in and volunteered to be a witness to the director’s favoritism towards the artist Shushu.”

“Is it wrong that he is the most important artist in the gallery?””As the representative placed the slender and long champagne glass in front of the artist Shushu, he wore a natural expression.”

And I placed a small box in royal blue and gray, decorated with a ribbon, next to the glass. On my way to work, I brought a dark navy shopping bag and wondered what it was for, but it seemed like it was the box that was inside.

“Is it ‘Dvorb e Gale’ bonbon?” Did you buy it on purpose?The author, who recognized the contents just by looking at the box of their favorite brand, had a joyful expression.

“You have to make sure the event goes smoothly in the best condition.” Eat a little. You will be less nervous during the meeting.”Although they were talking about it as a consideration on a business level, I already knew well what the CEO’s business smile was all about.” He was wearing a more joyful expression than the artist Shushu who received the gift.

Inside the box were chocolates that were so carefully shaped, each one different, that it felt almost a shame to eat them. The rich sweetness mingled with the coffee aroma that was spreading from the coffee machine that the manager had turned on. Ironically, it felt like the source of that scent was not chocolate, but rather the artist Shushu.

As I stared blankly at the impressive CEO and the artist Shushu, like a fashion spread in a magazine or a movie poster, I thought that no matter how different the sales figures were, it was unfair that the treatment was so different for the same artist. I quickly poured a glass of champagne for my friend Inwoo, who was complaining that he wasn’t even offered a glass of champagne that was clearly sitting right there, let alone expensive chocolate.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, Lee Hyun.” The one who said to be pricked doesn’t care at all. I’m sorry. I will drink it well.”I tried to smile at Inwoo-hyung who said that, but all I could do was awkwardly pull up the corners of my mouth.”

Since it was a large-scale event and we had hired a PR agency, there was actually not much to do on the opening day. The practical overseer, Uni, was supervising the final preparations on the second floor, while Hyung and I were waiting on one side of the office for the first part of the event to begin. Standing still and just watching the friendly conversations of others felt awkward, so I wished someone would give me something to do.

“Let’s share this.” I can’t eat it all by myself anyway.”No, this is a gift, so you eat it by yourself.” If there’s any left, you can just take it and eat.The director gently grabbed the writer’s wrist to stop him from pushing the box to the center of the table, but the writer, having handed a piece of chocolate to the manager and Inwoo, now aimed for the director.

“I told you to try it.” The person who bought it should taste it.The artist, holding a chocolate shaped like a leaf, raised her arm towards him standing beside her. He squinted his eyes as if contemplating while looking down at the chocolate, but soon bent down to take a bite of the chocolate.

After eating Uni’s ice cream, he frowned, saying that sweets weren’t really his thing, but looking at his expression with chocolate in his mouth, there was not even a slight change.

All those scenes and conversations felt like a movie playing on a screen beyond the table, unrelated to me. A movie that, although unrelated to me, evokes emotions, shakes the heart, makes you cheer for someone, and even hate someone. “It tastes better when we all eat together.” Try one too, Juhan. Did you perhaps not like sweet things?The writer’s gaze, directed towards Hyung in Korea, naturally reached me next to him.

“Um… but this person is….”And the soft dark brown eyes wanted to know about my identity.

It was the first time we made eye contact at such a close distance. There was nothing threatening about the opponent at all, but in that moment, I wanted to escape the situation.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Was it uncomfortable?”However, there was no need for me to respond.” As if trying to protect him, the representative placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward, his face clearly showing signs of embarrassment. In the next moment, a cold, swift command was directed at me.

“Could you please move over a bit?” I get uncomfortable around unfamiliar people because I am very shy. How did no one think of this in advance?”In the end, I raised my voice towards the other people in the office.”

It felt like a long time. His way, his rhetoric, is such that he does not care at all about the feelings of others being hurt if it is for someone precious to him.

Recently, it was just a temporary lull; it was nothing surprising. He was that kind of person from the beginning. Both Hyung Juhan and the director were important to him, but when there were more important people, they could always be pushed down the priority list.

So, there is no need to mention my feelings.

“Ouch.””It was the author Shushu who broke the awkward and tense atmosphere.”

The author looked back at the representative’s words, and since the author also looked up at the representative while speaking, that unfamiliar title was probably referring to him.

Instead of using the title Kun like many others, the author referred to him by a different name. It was a firm voice that felt quite solid, unlike the tone so far that resembled a latte mixed with a lot of milk.

“I just asked who you are, why is that?” I’m not at that level anymore. You will probably think I’m strange because of you.”He kept his mouth shut at the writer’s reprimand, but that didn’t restore my distorted feelings.” No, the more I listened to the words of the author Shushu, who was on my side, the more I felt that my very existence was becoming miserable, beyond just my feelings.

“Since when have you been so good at listening to other people’s words?”I felt an urge to criticize the CEO, who fell silent at just a few words from the author.

“I’m sorry, author.” I was so out of it that I couldn’t even introduce myself. I am a new employee who just joined Phantom. My name is Seo Ihyun.”I stepped forward and bowed my head at the introduction of the director.”

Hello, this is Seo Ihyun.”Nice to meet you.” Please understand that this person said something strange. Is your mouth a bit rough? It wasn’t like this before, but I feel like I’m becoming more irritable as I run my business.”No.” It’s okay.”On the surface, it seems like they are concerned about my feelings, but in reality, it felt like they were just protecting the representative.” I was surprised by my own stubbornness in interpreting kindness that way. I don’t want anyone to find out, so I quickly erased it from my mind.

Inwoo stood up, pushing his chair back a bit loudly while holding the empty champagne glass. It was an act that clearly showed intentional displeasure.

“Whether in the past or now, speaking in a way that makes you lose affection is the same, you know?” I only pretended to be nice in front of you, so you remember it differently. At least I’ve learned to force a smile while doing business, so in a way, I’m in a better state now.”It wasn’t that much…””Inwoo’s attack was defended by the author Shushu in a voice lacking confidence, and he said, ‘Let it be.’ It’s not an incorrect statement.He did not particularly deny his long-standing favoritism towards the writer Shushu, or the pointed personality that Inwoo-hyung expressed.

In the past, before the Phantom existed, of course, at that time, the author Shushu was not a member of the Phantom. From that time on, I could easily imagine him as the good man he was only in front of Shushu.

“Is there really such a thing as a good man…?” I have never seen it.” – The words he said at the director’s table might have been a self-deprecation about not being entirely a good man to someone.”

Such thoughts crossed my rigid mind, but it was something I couldn’t verify and had nothing to do with me. What I should be focusing on right now is even less so.

“I am a affiliated writer.” I was so out of it that my greeting is very late. We will be seeing each other often in the future, so I look forward to your support.Although there was a distance between us and we did not shake hands, the author smiled brightly at me. It was a smile that seemed to hold value just in its beauty alone. But this time, I couldn’t even force a smile, not even at the corners of my lips.

“I also… look forward to your support.”My greeting, which seemed to creep in, was quickly drowned out by the voice of the representative that followed.

“Don’t waste your energy doing things you don’t usually do.” No one here is unaware that you are shy. Since we’ve done the greetings, take care of yourself first. I won’t be able to eat even one piece of chocolate.”He seemed to be so worried that he might be called to the seminar without having tasted even one of his favorite chocolates.”

When the writer Shushu finally swallowed a whole chocolate and finished about half a glass of champagne, sister Yuni opened the office door.

“Boss, please check the finishing touches on the photo wall.” Author, could you take a moment to look over the manuscript with me?As soon as Uni noona disappeared into the inner reception room with the director and writer Shushu, Inwoo hyung, who was standing by the window, made a distorted expression towards him.

“Overprotection is still there.” It’s also about making the manager do all the bad roles while trying to take on only the good roles for himself. They manipulate everything from behind the scenes while cleverly pretending it’s not them.”Thank you for the compliment.”He didn’t flinch at all from Inwoo’s attack. The author Shushu was solely focused on reorganizing the box of chocolates left behind and putting it back into the shopping bag.

“It’s not that I’m criticizing overprotection, but stop being selfish and only caring about yourself while sacrificing others around you.” When doing business, how can you only see one thing while thinking creatively in multiple ways?”

“…….Inwoo sighed at his expression, which clearly showed that he had no idea what was being said. I understand that what Inwoo is trying to say is for my sake. But I wished they would stop.

As they left the office together, Inwoo grabbed his shoulder with some force.

“Do you really have to speak like that?” We understand that this is your original temperament, but… it’s really hard to watch from the side.”Only then did he seem to understand what it meant as he looked back at me, but it was just a very brief moment because the door closed immediately.” I couldn’t hear how he commented on Inwoo-hyung regarding that.

“Don’t take the CEO’s words too much to heart.” When working originally, there wasn’t any of that nice way of saying things. The author Shushu is particularly sensitive about their work. You’re a sign writer, right? On a day like today, we need to understand.”After everyone disappeared, it seemed that Juhan-hyung felt a bit relieved as well. He let out a long sigh of relief, placed his hand on my shoulder as if to encourage me, and said.

Shushu is the main artist of the gallery, but was the event today solely because of the artist’s opening event? Is it just me who is attaching a peculiar interpretation to something that everyone else is accepting?

“Yes.” It was quite refreshing to hear the author speak on my behalf.”Unlike usual, when I couldn’t say what I needed to say at the right time and let it pass, I added unnecessary lies.” In response to the writer’s scolding towards him and the writer’s kindness towards me, I actually felt an even more devastating feeling.

Brother Juhan moved the champagne glass left by the author Shushu to the windowsill and drank the remaining half of its contents. Now we also had to tidy up a bit and go up to the second floor.

“That’s how it is.” Perhaps because she grew up in a wealthy family, she seems to know nothing about dirt. To put it briefly, they are kind-hearted, but a bit naive about the ways of the world. So it seems like the CEO and the manager are negotiating for a better deal. I’m worried that if I leave them alone, they’ll go somewhere and sign some strange contract. Being famous as a writer is one thing, but because of my appearance, I really attract a lot of strange flies.It was a statement that was fully understandable. Not only because of her simply beautiful features, but also due to the unique atmosphere that is added to them, it can appear as an attractive means to those who think of everything in connection with business.

“You look like an actor.”As I nodded in agreement, Hyung, who was standing in front of the shelf, quickly turned his body. The face that turned back was filled with a glow as if it had heard compliments about itself.

“Right?” I almost fell flat on my face when I saw it in person for the first time. It’s not just that they are handsome and pretty, but there’s something… that makes them look sublime.I chuckled at my brother’s exaggerated gestures, but the content of his words was not really an exaggeration. Because she was like someone who had a mysterious and subtle halo, just like the actresses who played fairies in fantasy movies I had seen sometime.

“Aside from reproductive functions, there seems to be no genetic differences, but there might be a different atmosphere compared to Beta.” It seems like it just attracts people. No, it’s not about pulling in, but rather about sucking in. It feels like I might be entranced as I watch.”As if focusing my gaze on a point in the air, my brother finished speaking with his eyes narrowed, then lightly tapped my back, lifting his chin with a smug expression as if to say, ‘Now do you finally understand?'”

“That’s the Golden Omega.””Although it was probably said as a joke, it became a heavy statement that weighed down on my heart.” It seemed to speak of an immutable difference that cannot be caught up to or surpassed, one that has already been decided before birth.

That’s the Golden Omega.

■ ■ ■

“Just a few more pages.””Although he said that, it was already the third time, so I didn’t really trust it.”

It was awkward enough just wearing form-fitting shorts that barely reached my knees, but I also had a bit of makeup on my face and had to strike some kind of pose in front of the camera.

“Don’t look at the camera, try to make a dreamy expression.”

“……”

The only visual records of me in any way were a few surprise photos saved on Morae’s phone. At least, that had been the case for the past few years. And they wanted me to make a dreamy expression. Unable to bear any more bewilderment, I covered my face with my hands.

“Ah, that’s good too!”

But even that moment was captured by Juhan Hyung’s camera.

“It’s okay, you’re doing great.”

Yooni Noona, who was holding a large reflector and shining it on me, gave me a thumbs-up, but it wasn’t much of a comfort.

I remembered coming here as a spectator and errand runner. And that’s certainly how it started. The reflector Yooni Noona was holding at an angle that was almost acrobatic was my job until just a little while ago.

Today, I had unloaded clothes, shoes, and accessories from the trunk and back seats of the Phantom-rented commercial vehicle, moved branches or stones that might obstruct the shoot, run errands, and watched their passion, which seemed no less than that of professional photographers or models, with a complex mix of admiration and jealousy.

As the shoot, which started in the morning, progressed for about four or five hours, the clothing shots were nearly complete. With some free time, the two of them came up with an unexpected idea. To make me the model…

My most active protests and refusals couldn’t stop their playful curiosity, or their curious playfulness.

They dragged me to a room in the back of the house, which had been lent for use as a dressing room. They dotted my cheeks with artificial freckles, smeared orange shadow haphazardly on my eyelids, and redrew my eyebrows into a different shape. They dressed me in form-fitting shorts that I never wore normally, and made me wear Juhan Hyung’s clunky work boots.

It was fortunate that the top was a sufficiently long and baggy knit. Although the intense orange color was hard to bear.

They stood me, stiff as a stick, in a corner of the garden and took turns holding the camera, burning with artistic fervor. But no matter how great a photographer, what could they capture from a subject who felt awkward just looking into the camera lens?

“That’s a new face for a model.”

As Hyung had requested, I tried to act like I was ‘gazing at some distant, cherished memory, not here,’ with my arms hanging straight down and my head tilted slightly. I reflexively turned my head towards the sound, and this time, I truly wanted to cover my face.

I didn’t know how long he had been watching, but the CEO was leaning against the doorframe of the entrance, looking down at me and smiling.

I bit my lower lip, trying to quell the feeling of being set ablaze from the roots of my ears to my temples and cheeks, against my will. It tasted artificially dull because of the lipstick or lip gloss Yooni Noona had applied.

“We discovered a new talent this time.”

Juhan Hyung turned around and chuckled.

Pretending to fix my hair, I hid my face with sleeves that almost covered my hands. The modeling gig I wasn’t suited for was one thing, but I didn’t want to be seen with my blushing face.

“Yeah, the ones we had were a bit lame.”

He snickered as he descended the six or seven steps leading to the garden.

Because the days were longer, the early summer sunlight was still intense in the garden at 4 PM, causing him to frown. As he entered the shade, his expression softened, and our eyes finally met properly. I gave a slight nod, and he responded with a greeting, slowly scanning me. He seemed pleased.

“What do you think? Full of youthful charm, right?”

Juhan Hyung showed him the photo on the camera’s LCD, and I almost let out a strange shriek. The heat in my face, which I had just managed to calm, felt like it was flaring up again.

“Hmm, the photo itself isn’t bad… but isn’t his body too stiff?”

“He’s an amateur. But his face looks really convincing in the photo. Well… Lee Hyun doesn’t have the flair.”

Hyung, who had been looking at the camera’s LCD with the CEO, raised his gaze and smiled playfully at me. Being photographed, showing the photos to someone, revealing my most private self—it all felt so uncomfortable that my throat felt dry. The CEO, however, was being overly serious, even scrolling back to look at the photo again.

“Still, that awkwardness is kind of fresh. Ah, this feels good.”

After saying that, he looked up and stared at me standing awkwardly in front of a spirea bush, most of whose flowers had already fallen. His gaze, as unreserved as his way of speaking, made me tense, but there was nothing I could do to escape it.

As soon as I felt relief from his gaze, which had been looking at me askance, the next challenge tightened its grip on me.

“Shall I take a few shots too?”

This time, my surprise was evident. Yooni Noona, who had propped the reflector against a rock, came over and put her arm around my shoulder.

“It’s okay. The CEO is surprisingly good at taking photos.”

That wasn’t the problem…

I didn’t even have a chance to resist. Whether it was being the subject in front of the lens or the producer pressing the shutter behind it, I was the only one in this garden who felt uncomfortable with cameras. Everyone else treated this work like a game, so any refusal or resistance would seem like an eccentric behavior.

The camera passed from Hyung’s hands to the CEO’s, and this time Juhan Hyung held the reflector.

“Could you sit down on the ground here? Stretch your legs out long. Yooni, could you set that up on the ground?”

He gauged the light in the desired position through the LCD and pointed to a mat carelessly thrown on a prop box in the corner. My Noona and Hyung, tired from the extended shooting time, regained their energy and quickly moved as he requested.

I sat down on the mat, with its ethnic pattern reminiscent of Native American designs, stretching my legs as he asked.

“……”

Before I could even properly get into position, his two feet intruded into my space. His leather slippers, with their closed fronts, rested on the ground on either side of my knees.

“It’s a test. Don’t mind it, just relax.”

He said that, but I couldn’t help but mind, nor could I relax. Click. Click. I heard the continuous shutter sound from above my head, and Noona was still at my feet, adjusting the direction of the mat’s folds this way and that, searching for the desired form.

“Seo Yi-hyun-ssi.”

The voice calling me was no different from usual. I thought he had something to say, and the moment I looked up at him, the aperture in front of my eyes closed and opened once more.

“Place your hands behind you and lean your upper body back slightly.”

Even when taking photos, he was clear about what he wanted. He never showed unnecessary politeness or hesitation.

“Lift your chin. Look down.”

Without a moment to hesitate, the instructions continued. For me, who was uncomfortable with cameras, that method was actually better. He wasn’t asking for dreamy expressions or looks of longing.

“Keep your chin up and slowly raise your eyes. As slowly as possible.”

I slowly raised my gaze. The lens was about 50 centimeters away. His large body, which extended to my knees, was right in front of me. The moment I became aware of that, my earlobes grew hot. This was a difficult pose for an ordinary person like me, unaccustomed to this kind of work. Although he wasn’t touching my body, I felt as confined as if I were bound.

“Uh, uh… don’t turn your head.”

I must have averted my gaze without realizing it. He let out a low sigh from beyond the lens. His tone was like a dentist dealing with a patient who kept turning their head, disturbing the examination. This doesn’t hurt much, even kids endure it well. Like a dentist coaxing and soothing with such words.

But I rarely got cavities, and I endured pain very well. If I had to go for dental treatment, I’d do it every day of the week, but this, I felt I could never do again.

He stepped back, out of my feet, and this time stepped onto a rock to the side, moving away from me. But I wasn’t any freer than when the lens was pointed at my face up close.

What was he seeing in me beyond the lens, and how was he evaluating it? I wanted to erase such thoughts, but all I could do was repeatedly bite and release my lips, which were drying from tension.

“Yesterday.”

Before I could even be surprised by the sudden change of topic, he stepped down from the rock and climbed back up my legs. This time, past my knees, up to my thighs.

Noona and Hyung had been shooting the clothes from further away, so the lens had never come this close. The distance made it hard to breathe comfortably.

“You worked hard.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“And… I’m sorry.”

He said “I’m sorry” in a voice barely audible to me, then briefly took his eye from the viewfinder and looked at me with his naked eye.

There was no explanation for why he said something that seemed so out of character, but only one thing came to mind.

“Could you step aside for a moment? He’s very shy and gets uncomfortable around people he doesn’t know.”

Heat rushed to my face again.

Despite my young age, my emotions rarely showed on my face. This wasn’t because my emotional control was mature, but because I had a less sensitive disposition than others. Since I didn’t feel emotions strongly, my expressions were naturally subdued.

But the distance was too close, and the situation was unfamiliar. Although I was clothed and shooting clothes, I felt a shame akin to being stripped bare and exposed in front of them, a shyness that made me react easily to even minor stimuli. I could only hope that the fake freckles painted on my cheeks would help mask my heat even a little.

He looked down at me for a brief moment, then tilted the camera to check the results. Still standing with his feet on either side of my thighs. When the lens was withdrawn, I felt more anxious, not knowing where to look.

Hmm. With a groan that suggested something wasn’t quite right, he asked, his gaze still on the camera’s LCD.

“Do you have someone you like?”

“……”

“Or, someone you liked, perhaps.”

He glanced down at me, his eyes narrowing slightly, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. Strangely, I recalled my own uncharacteristic actions, trying to shock him, but that wasn’t an answer to his question about having someone I liked.

He bent down again, aiming the lens at me, and added.

“Imagine that person confessing to you, Seo Yi-hyun-ssi.”

At the unexpected remark, my gaze involuntarily turned to the lens. I felt pressure from the anxiety that everything I usually hid would be exposed beyond the lens, yet I couldn’t look away.

The lens, which repeatedly moved closer to focus and then retreated, felt like his lips, not his eyes.

He told me to imagine a confession from a non-existent person I liked, but hearing it, I realized it was a situation that would never happen, and a faint, wry laugh escaped me.

It’s strange. Why does confirming a confession I can’t receive from someone I like lead to self-deprecation and resignation at this moment? Even though it’s a hypothetical, non-existent opponent.

Chaaal-kak.

I stared at the lens, which closed and opened more slowly than before. For the first time, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Carried on the breeze blowing from behind him towards me, his scent, faint, suddenly wafted.

“We got the best shot. Let’s stop and have some beer.”

He withdrew the lens, straightened up, and turned away without any lingering hesitation.

■ ■ ■

The garden was indeed as unkempt as I’d heard, but given the season, it wasn’t as desolate as I’d expected. The dense, varied shades of green, tangled together without human intervention, still felt somewhat alive.

As the sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows, several mats were laid out overlapping in the expanded garden shade. Stripes, ethnic patterns, checks, and vibrant floral prints. We spread out the delivered hamburgers, french fries, and salads on these distinct patterns, and with the beer sponsored by the CEO, it felt like we were on a picnic in the park.

Noona and Hyung didn’t say a word until they had finished their own hamburgers. They had rushed to finish the shoot while there was still natural light, so it was understandable they were hungry. While they diligently ate their hamburgers with their cheeks puffed out and drank beer, the CEO and I picked at our french fries and drank beer, barely touching our hamburgers.

As predicted, he must have had too much to drink at last night’s after-party. He had seemed unusually cheerful throughout the event. Perhaps he had no appetite due to the lingering effects of alcohol. Despite his earlier words about not wanting to disturb his sleep, saying he’d be passed out, he was here with us.

Looking at his profile, tilted as usual, I took a couple of sips of beer, which I was now starting to appreciate.

The early summer breeze, passing through the tall cypress trees that formed the core of the garden, was soft and tickled my skin along with the pale late afternoon sunlight. The fragrant osmanthus, which had grown to nearly 2 meters untrimmed, also contributed to the garden’s shade.

Although they didn’t hire a gardener for landscaping, it seemed they cleaned regularly. It wasn’t a messy garden.

“What is this? Did the CEO scan Lee Hyun with his lens? What is this… there’s just pure lust overflowing from the photo. If it went a little further, it would be a sexy pictorial.”

As soon as she was somewhat full, Yooni Noona grabbed her camera and started reviewing the day’s results. Her exclamation made me choke on my beer, sputtering ungracefully. The CEO, glancing at me, casually said as he dipped a french fry in ketchup and took a bite.

“You need that level of obsession with the subject to get a good photo. Shall I delete it if you don’t like it?”

“Who said that?”

As if he would snatch the camera and delete the photos, Noona turned her back completely and hugged the camera. Juhan Hyung, curious about the photos too, dragged his hips sideways and moved closer to Noona.

“It’s not just scanning, he completely caressed it with the lens. Wow… we’re too pure to take photos like this. Only corrupted people can take these.”

Juhan Hyung shook his head and muttered. To avoid being stimulated by the provocative words and to maintain my composure, all I could do was read the label on the beer bottle in my hand.

“Your body is beautiful. I never realized it because you always wear long pants. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without a striped t-shirt.”

Leaving the two of them to engage in a heated debate about which photos to use for updates and which to delete, he turned his attention to me. He seemed unfazed by the barrage of words like lust, sexy pictorial, and caress.

Of course. He was talking about his direction as a photographer, not his own feelings towards me, and as usual, Noona and Hyung had expressed it playfully. The actual photo was probably just slightly languid.

As I slowly pushed up the label on the beer bottle with my fingernail, unable to answer quickly, Noona reacted first.

“You say his body is beautiful. Isn’t that sexual harassment?”

“Hmm. I tried to speak as mechanically as possible to avoid sounding sexual… but I guess it was impossible for the words ‘your body is beautiful’ to come out of my mouth and not sound sexual.”

At his nonchalant self-defense, Juhan Hyung offered him the mouth of his beer bottle for a toast and laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure. Who would fall for it?”

Click. The moment their beers clinked, Noona pressed the shutter. But I seemed to be the only one who paid attention to the sound.

As the lens changed direction, capturing his profile as he drank beer, his mouth wide open to eat a hamburger, and his bare feet on the mat, neither of them showed any unnatural awareness. In fact, he deliberately smeared ketchup on his lips and playfully posed for the camera.

There was no feeling that they were excluding me, but the essential difference between them and me was too clear for me to feel like a natural part of this group.

An early summer picnic with a well-maintained, beautiful two-story house, a contrasting messy garden, two people with distinct personalities and presence, and a sophisticated, wealthy Golden Alpha with an overwhelming appearance.

It was an experience as unfamiliar to me as becoming ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and peeking at the tea party of the March Hare and the Mad Hatter.

Judging by their appearances, Yooni Noona suited the March Hare, and Juhan Hyung suited the Mad Hatter. Coincidentally, Hyung was also wearing the hunting cap he had worn for today’s shoot. The Noona, who was dressed head-to-toe in black as always, would be a rabbit with black fur instead of white.

Then, what role should I give him?

It was difficult to find a character that perfectly fit him within ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ but if I had to choose one, I thought it might be the rabbit wearing a waistcoat.

I also wondered about the capricious Queen, the cynical Caterpillar, or the Cheshire Cat that suddenly appeared and disappeared, but setting aside all other details and their roles in the actual story, the rabbit wearing a waistcoat was, to me, a symbol of ‘Wonderland’ in that it was the guide who led Alice into ‘Wonderland’ and the first object that stimulated Alice’s curiosity.

Alice, the visitor who felt curious and excited about her experiences in Wonderland, and also felt confused by the incomprehensible events, was, of course, me.

Imagining myself in a blue dress with a white apron, like the Alice commonly depicted, I involuntarily scrunched up my face as if I had drunk a strangely flavored beverage.

Under the late afternoon sun of early summer, they all looked free and radiant. Unlike me, who was lucky enough to be here thanks to a series of coincidences and the kindness of many people, everything they possessed, from their work performance to their smiles, was something they had created themselves.

They were ‘the people of Wonderland.’

His exaggeratedly provocative pose towards the camera made Noona and Hyung laugh louder.

As was the case during yesterday’s event, he seemed to be in a very good mood today. Perhaps it was because all of Shushu’s works were sold at the VIP opening, which also served as a press conference. He, or rather, Phantom, bought one-third of the works, but it was an investment for sale at the Hong Kong art fair in July. It wasn’t a troublesome piece that the gallery would be forced to take if it didn’t sell.

As I fumbled, caught off guard by the camera suddenly aimed at me, Noona, who had come up beside me, mimicked a reporter at a scoop site, changing the camera angle here and there. With the question, “What are your thoughts on becoming the muse of Phantom’s Lau Wikun?” a flash exploded before my eyes.

“There are many rumors that the two of you are more than just a photographer and model. Is it true? Looking at the photos Lau Wikun has worked on, it doesn’t seem like a baseless rumor, does it? Seo Yi-hyun, please say something!”

Noona, taking the beer bottle I was fiddling with and holding it to my lips like a microphone, looked at me with eyes full of laughter. His gaze, visible over Noona’s shoulder, was also directed this way.

“Um… No comment.”

“Are you aware that ‘no comment’ is often interpreted as an admission?”

“In that case… no comment.”

“……”

The playfulness disappeared from Noona’s face, and conversely, he burst into laughter. Juhan Hyung tapped the mat while whistling.

I knew I wasn’t a humorous person, but in situations like this, I wanted to match the mood to some extent. Noona, dropping the surprised expression, smiled broadly and gently shook my cheek, not painfully, and said,

“You’re so cute sometimes.”

Then she returned to her seat, opened a new beer, and drank it down. Picking up a french fry, she said,

“Representative, I don’t know about others, but not Lee Hyun. Don’t even dream about it.”

“Hmm… dream about what?”

“A lewd dream unfolding in your adult land, Representative.”

“……”

Before he could react, Juhan Hyung, who had taken over the camera Noona had put down and was snapping photos here and there, stepped in.

“You don’t have to worry about that. When Lee Hyun takes off his clothes, he has a lean body with well-defined muscles, a handsome face, and skin like honey! But fortunately, he’s not your type.”

“Isn’t that sexual harassment? Aren’t you going to say anything? That’s a much higher level of remark than mine?”

While appealing his unfairness to Yooni Noona, he skillfully turned the situation into a joke, but a positive or negative answer to Juhan Hyung’s statement that I wasn’t his type was actually unnecessary.

I still remembered how he had responded when In-woo Hyung, who had just gotten out of his car in front of Phantom, asked if I was his new lover.

As the beer suddenly tasted even more bitter, it was the last sip of the beer I was drinking. As I reached for a new beer from the icebox, he, sitting closer, took one out and handed it to me.

“Well. I once visited here on a holiday because I had an urgent need to receive a piece, and I saw the Representative’s man once. He was surprisingly burly?”

“What? Really? Representative, is this true?”

He scowled and covered his ears at Hyung’s voice, which had risen to an almost shouting pitch.

“What if it’s true, and what if it’s false? Is there any reason why I shouldn’t like a burly type if it were my preference?”

“Wow… You see people like Shushu the artist every day, so how could burly types be your preference? Do you want to live recklessly when you only see beautiful things?”

“I never said burly types were my preference. Even if it were my preference, it’s none of your business. Besides, not everyone who was at my house is my partner. And Kwon Juhan, you’re in no position to talk about other people’s tastes, are you?”

A man in his late thirties, with facial lines starting to soften, caught in lethargy at the boundary between youth and middle age. There was no way he wouldn’t know the information I had about Hyung.

“My taste is niche, the whole world knows it, I admit it myself, even my parents know it… Representative, you can choose whoever you like, can’t you? I hate to admit it, but in terms of looks alone, you are the embodiment of a Golden Alpha, and the thought of you getting tangled up with burly guys one after another… Ugh, my delicate aesthetic refuses to comprehend it.”

Juhan Hyung, waving his hands several times as if chasing away a hallucination, gulped down his beer.

I felt his gaze briefly flick towards me from the edge of my vision as I wiped away the condensation on the beer bottle with my thumb, but I didn’t look up to confirm it.

“Hmm. Whether it’s burly or not, I don’t mind… but I don’t like being accused of sleeping around with just anyone. Just because you have sex with someone who isn’t your lover doesn’t mean you’re promiscuous. Then, at this age, do adults resolve their sexual desires solely through masturbation if they don’t have a lover? Well, there might be people like that, but just because you choose that life doesn’t give you the right to criticize those who don’t. If sleeping with someone who isn’t your lover is the definition of promiscuity… as far as I know, you guys aren’t exactly chaste either.”

He looked at Noona and Hyung alternately, with a somewhat sly smile at the end. Noona and Hyung nodded as if acknowledging the truth, and Hyung even raised a hand as if making a declaration.

“Whatever sexual life one has in a consensual relationship is a personal matter. I agree with that the most.”

“Yes, it’s strictly a personal matter.”

Noona also raised her hand in agreement.

Although masturbation was the entirety of my sex life, I didn’t look negatively upon those who didn’t. I also agreed with the Representative’s opinion that sleeping with someone who wasn’t a lover didn’t necessarily mean promiscuity.

Then, what about someone you like? If we, the people gathered here, maintain the same stance regarding someone we like, can we avoid being hurt by a partner who sleeps with someone other than me?

As it’s not a romantic relationship, the act itself cannot be condemned, but it would be difficult not to be hurt. Not just the act of sleeping together, but perhaps even seeing the other person treat someone else kindly would cause pain.

“It’s enough to be treated as someone with a messy private life, accused of soliciting sex or whatever, by the critics. Ah… if I actually played around promiscuously, I wouldn’t feel so wronged.”

I had mistakenly assumed he was someone who didn’t care about such things at all. But thinking about it, anyone who shrugs off low-quality, malicious evaluations of themselves must naturally find it unpleasant. Being able to tolerate it, to maintain composure, wouldn’t mean being unaffected by any blow.

Looking down at the beer label, which was easily separating from the bottle with a light push after being sufficiently cooled by the condensation, I scoffed at my own naivety for eagerly awaiting today with the mere excited curiosity of being able to visit his house.

“But Representative, why are you being so passionately self-defensive, unlike yourself? You know it’s all a joke, between us. Could it be… you really hated the idea of Lee Hyun misunderstanding?”

“Of course, I hate it when a handsome man misunderstands me as promiscuous.”

At Noona’s playful provocation, he widened his light blue eyes and spread his arms exaggeratedly.

In reality, all of this was a meaningless joke. It was a joke possible because everyone knew that, despite the atmosphere of the photos, he had absolutely no personal interest (or as Noona put it, ‘dark intentions’) in me.

I felt myself being drained by those harmless conversations, feeling like an overly sensitive person. Or perhaps, there was a special reason why I was so sensitive to this kind of joke. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to think about it now.

The beer he had given me was also nearing its end. Not yet knowing my exact alcohol tolerance, I tended to drink faster when I let my guard down. Since I wasn’t good with words, I also tended to drink more whenever I felt awkward or flustered.

I wasn’t drunk, but I felt a slight daze and wanted to clear my head for a moment.

“Noona, the shoot is all finished now, right?”

“Why? Do you want to change clothes?”

“Yes, and I want to wash my face…”

I replied, lightly rubbing my cheek where freckles might be drawn with my fingertips. I felt his gaze sticking to my left side, but I pretended not to notice.

“Go inside, change your clothes, and wash your face. You know the room where you changed earlier, right? There’s a bathroom right to its right. It’s a guest bathroom anyway, so feel free to use it.”

“You’re talking like it’s your own house?”

“Then Representative, why don’t you show me yourself? Even when I do a troublesome task for you.”

Watching Noona and him exchange conversation so casually and smoothly, I put down the empty bottle and stood up.

As I passed behind him towards the entrance, he lightly grabbed my wrist. Looking up at me, he said,

“Feel free to use anything in the bathroom.”

It was probably the kindest tone I had ever heard from him. Was it because he had been in a good mood since yesterday?

I thought that perhaps Shushu the artist, who was not present, was the reason he was being so generous. I didn’t bother to ask myself why that thought made me feel an unpleasant discomfort.

“Thank you.”

I mumbled softly and headed straight for the entrance.

Given his slightly arrogant composure and glamorous aura, I had expected his residence to be a skyscraper like the Babel Tower or a luxurious mansion with a unique, modern exterior overlooking the Han River.

Of course, it was a house of a scale that would make an ordinary person like me gape, like the mansions on the hill where Morae’s house was, but the stone steps like a path leading from the gate to the garden, and the exterior walls that retained the original red bricks, gave the impression of a house built quite some time ago.

However, the interior seemed to have been completely remodeled.

The hallway starting from the entrance split into left and right. We had entered through the main gate with the key he had given us beforehand, and to avoid disturbing him, we had used the back door leading to the kitchen. Once I found the kitchen, it was simple to find that room.

Using my sense of direction, I turned left. What appeared before me was the living room.

Unlike the dark hallway without windows, the living room, with its high ceiling opening up to the second floor, was filled with the abundant late afternoon sunlight, slanted at an angle. It seemed like the kitchen would be found by turning right across the living room.

But I couldn’t take a single step into the living room.

More than the camera lens that seemed to dissect me, more than his gaze that ‘caressed’ me with a lens that felt like lips rather than eyes, reaching up to my thighs… I was confronted with an incomparable terror.

In a completely unexpected place, without warning or hint.

Like a knife thrust into my abdomen the moment I carelessly turned a corner in an alley.

I believed I knew better than anyone that malicious twists of fate could be sudden and violent, like a bomb dropped in the most peaceful place.

But when life decides to play a trick, humans are bound to fall for the same trick twice or thrice.

I thought I had strayed far.

My father, consumed by his own sorrow, had let me go, but Hani Hyung and Morae were there. I had also sacrificed myself for five years, a time that was by no means short in the context of my entire twenty-two years of life.

When someone provoked me, I felt the impulse not to avoid them by turning away, but to stab them back and provoke them together. In front of someone else’s artwork, I was overwhelmed by a strong desire to pick up a brush again.

Perhaps I hadn’t overcome it, but like a bump protruding from the skin, like a scar that no longer bled but remained disfigured, I thought I had accepted it as part of myself.

I had made a grand mistake.

Nothing had changed. I was still a denied child.

From outside the entrance, beyond the large picture window of the living room, I could hear the laughter of three people. I wanted to run out into a world where passion, talent, and resilience against wounds existed.

But I couldn’t. The past I thought was preserved was resurrected as a present that could not be more vivid, and it was tightening its grip around my neck with a smile, and I had no strength to loosen even one of its joints.

“I thought you might be lost, so I followed you.”

It was his voice. But I couldn’t turn my head to look. I couldn’t turn my gaze away from myself.

“Ah… do you like it?”

I felt him approach, perhaps following my fixed gaze.

“The artist who drew this was sixteen at the time. A monster.”

“……”

“What do you see in this painting? I’m curious what Seo Yi-hyun, who is highly praised by Choi In-woo, sees.”

“Alienation.”

“……”

I mumbled it in a very small voice, as if talking to myself, and his silence that followed became heavy.

No, silence has no weight. From our first meeting, his presence had caught my attention, and as time went on, I couldn’t deny that I had shown unfamiliar reactions related to him, but his gaze, looking down at me with interest right beside me, meant nothing at this moment.

“Hmm. No one has gotten this right so far. Should I really ask Seo Yi-hyun to write a preface? How did you know? Although the expression is bold, it feels like the two of them have affection and rely on each other. The colors are warm too. Most people interpret it as love or romance. But why did you think Seo Yi-hyun… thought it was a painting about alienation?”

He poured out his words, placing his hand on my shoulder and gripping it tightly, more excited than I had ever seen him.

I turned my head to look at him. My neck, as if rigidly fixed by some device, or as if my entire body’s muscles were stiffened by a knife held to my back, I moved only my face slowly, keeping my neck still.

When I focused on his grey-blue eyes, his unique scent, intensified as much as his excitement, enveloped me as if it lunged at me with his entire being, but this time, even the subtle stimulation of the scent could not ensnare me. “Why did you think that?” I replied.

“Because I drew it.”