DD 6.2 The Price of Silence

From H&W gallery on 69th Street to Rau’s apartment, which faces the southeastern edge of Central Park, it was usually a short distance, five minutes by car and ten minutes on foot. But on the last day of the year, it was a different story. Not only the roads leading to Midtown, where the Ball Drop event was in full swing, but the entire Manhattan road network was completely jammed, as if it had become a parking lot.

But Rau had no reason to rush. With his arms crossed, he sank deep into the seat and gazed out the car window at the excited, exhilarated faces of the people passing by. New York’s temperature was, on average, higher than Seoul’s winter, but strangely, the cold here always felt more chilling than the actual temperature.

A light drizzle was falling on the streets, but from the radio, played at a low volume by the driver, a reporter was excitedly announcing that two million people had gathered for the Ball Drop event.

Imagining Times Square packed with a crowd of two million people gave him a migraine. But of course, it wasn’t the imagined crowd that caused it. He could function when focused on work, but any brief moment of downtime brought intense stress. His self-prescribed treatment for the headaches and insomnia that had plagued him for months was nothing more than alcohol and cigarettes.

Rau rolled down the window halfway and lit a cigarette. The street noise grew louder. A group of about five or six people, appearing to be in their early to mid-twenties, passed by, blowing noisily on vuvuzelas. Rau put out the cigarette after just a few puffs and rolled up the window.

He wouldn’t have felt this down if he hadn’t received a call from the hotel this afternoon.

The hotel had kindly called to confirm with a customer who had booked a room, one that cost well over ten thousand dollars a night, at an even higher rate than usual, and then failed to show up. Rau had forgotten about the reservation entirely until that call, making it an unnecessary kindness.

It was a room he had booked assuming he would come to New York with Lee Hyun, so that he could comfortably watch the Ball Drop event.

It had required a strategic effort, even calling in favors, to book a room with a view that allowed him to see the New Year’s Eve Ball drop right before his eyes. But now, it was just an unnecessary burden, a gift with no recipient.

The hotel employee, who had hesitantly explained that refunds were not possible even without checking in, disappeared from the other end of the line after Rau’s indifferent reply, leaving behind a cheerful New Year’s greeting. While the employee might have felt relieved, Rau found it difficult to concentrate on anything afterward.

He had left Seoul as if fleeing from memories of Lee Hyun, but even here, in a place he had never been with him, he couldn’t escape him.

The headache tightening its grip on his brain, Rau finally began drinking the whiskey kept in the car. Only after slowly finishing two glasses was he barely able to reach his apartment. He apologized to the driver provided by H&W for not having a separate gift, handed him a tip as a substitute, and offered a brief New Year’s greeting before getting out of the car. One of the doormen recognized Rau’s car and quickly approached, holding out an umbrella.

It was only after getting into the elevator and being alone that he felt he could finally breathe. Inside the elegant, upscale condo of the Upper East Side, the festive atmosphere of the streets felt distant, like a celebration in another world. It was a relief.

As soon as he entered the apartment, he took off his coat, tossed it carelessly onto a stool in front of the kitchen counter, and opened the refrigerator to pull out a beer.

He drank half of it in one go while standing in front of the refrigerator, then slowly walked to the living room window. He drank the rest of the beer, gazing at the skyline, more dazzling than usual, surrounding Central Park.

It was already New Year’s morning in Seoul. Paris… Paris would be a little later, the dawn of the first day of the new year just breaking. He might be starting the day diligently, Lee Hyun might be. Or perhaps he was lying in bed, making resolutions for the year. Imagining Lee Hyun, his eyes darting around in the bluish pre-dawn light, Rau shrugged and let out a small laugh.

He had already been in New York for about three weeks for Petibon’s exhibition, which was scheduled with H&W, and after taking tomorrow, New Year’s Day, off, all his essential schedules would be completed after attending the exhibition opening event on January 2nd. But he hadn’t booked a return flight to Seoul yet.

He wasn’t going to see him, and whether it was here or in Seoul, it was an equally empty city without him, yet he couldn’t understand why he kept postponing his flight date for no reason.

Sighing as if he had just realized he was acting in a way he couldn’t understand, Rau turned to get another bottle of beer from the refrigerator, its bottom now visible.

As Rau headed towards the kitchen, he stopped at the sudden ringing of the doorbell. It was a call from the lobby. He had a few acquaintances living in New York, but none he was close enough to for them to visit unannounced. Perhaps the driver had quickly bought something as a thank-you for the tip.

But the visitor who came through the intercom was an unexpected person.

After he replied that they could come up, about two to three minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Shushu stood in the hallway, wearing a ridiculous hat like a cheap magician’s prop with “HAPPY NEW YEAR” written on it, and a vuvuzela in his mouth.

“What is this?”

“The hotel gave it to me. I brought one for you, too.”

Although it wasn’t a question about his attire, Shushu answered that way and thrust out a hat he had been hiding behind his back. Rau sighed and turned away, disappearing into the apartment first.

“I flew all the way here because I felt sorry for you, thinking you’d be celebrating the New Year alone, and that’s your reaction?”

“I’m making money, why would I be pitiful?”

Rau raised an eyebrow at Shushu, who followed him in, twisting the cap off a new beer.

“You’re going through a lot for H&W’s work, even though the New York branch isn’t opening. In fact… it’s almost a loss.”

The amount he received in exchange for lending his collection and his father’s collection stored in Hong Kong to H&W was by no means small in itself. However, it was a contract signed on the condition of receiving H&W’s cooperation and support during the process of opening and establishing the Phantom New York branch, making it a transaction that ultimately didn’t make financial sense.

Chloe Kent had expressed her gratitude for his fulfillment of the contract despite the indefinite postponement (effectively cancellation) of the New York branch opening, but business gratitude was practically worthless. Rau had to admit that this was a complete business failure and loss for him.

“Huh? When did you buy it? Here? Or did you already own it? Did you bring it from Hong Kong?”

Shushu, who had passed the kitchen and was about to sit on the sofa, pointed to a painting hanging on the wall in front of him with a delighted expression. It was an Edward Hopper piece he had bought from his father to give to Lee Hyun. It wasn’t one of his most famous works, but it was distinct enough that anyone could tell it was Hopper’s.

Rau evaded the question with an excuse about drinking beer, avoiding eye contact. Shushu, not particularly eager to know the artwork’s origin, didn’t press for an answer.

“You got a new sofa too? And I haven’t seen that dining table before. It’s an apartment you stay in maybe once a year at most, when did you… redecorate like this…?”

Shushu’s voice trailed off as he realized Rau had planned to live in this apartment with Lee Hyun.

It wasn’t as spacious as the houses he owned in Seoul or other cities, but he wanted to start with Lee Hyun here. He had also planned to set up a separate studio, and one of the three bedrooms had already been converted into an atelier so he could paint whenever he wanted at home. Just as he hadn’t even visited the basement studio where Lee Hyun had stayed before coming to New York, Rau had completely sealed off that room.

Everything he had prepared to keep him there had become a thorny snare, constricting him in reverse and digging into his flesh.

For a moment, Rau met Shushu’s sympathetic gaze, then he forced a light tone and changed the subject.

“It must have been hard to find a hotel suddenly at this time. You’re quite resourceful.”

“Still, you were a New Yorker for years. I called in some favors. Cost a bit, too.”

“Want some beer?”

“Cut back on the alcohol.”

“I have to if I want to sleep even a little.”

Shushu frowned as he took the beer bottle from Rau.

“You said you came because you felt sorry for me, but you’re here to nag.”

“You’ve been clinging to work for months and haven’t socialized with anyone. Are you planning to become a hermit? You still haven’t reconciled with Inwoo, have you?”

“Reconcile with everyone? We’re not kids.”

Rau, settling into the seat opposite the two-seater sofa where Shushu sat, leaned forward with his upper body, resting his arms on the armrests, and put on a playful expression.

“Jeong Shuiyan. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’ve been busy preparing for this exhibition. I’ve been to Hong Kong three or four times in the past two months. If my working too hard and not having time to hang out with friends made you worried, I’m sorry. Okay?”

But Shushu’s eyes showed no sign of fading worry. Rau sighed, put down his beer bottle, and stood up from the sofa.

“Let’s go out. You came all this way, I should at least have a drink with you. I’ll shower and change, so wait for me. I’ll be quick.”

Shushu watched Rau’s retreating back as he disappeared down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He fiddled with the decorations on his vuvuzela and then quietly got up. He knew the layout of the apartment well. He had stayed there a few times after Rau inherited it. It was also where he had stayed temporarily after the incident with Hong Seonyu, before returning to Seoul.

The door to the master bedroom at the very end was open a crack. Hearing the sound of water pouring from the en-suite bathroom, Shushu quietly pushed the door open.

The New York night view from the floor-to-ceiling window of the darkened bedroom was still breathtaking. It was so stunning that his body momentarily lost strength. His steps stopped involuntarily, and a sigh-like gasp escaped him.

Thanks to its location at the southern tip of Fifth Avenue, he could appreciate the imposing density of the high-rise buildings to his left, appearing to be right in front of him, and the dynamic skyline spread out like a panorama beyond Central Park.

He had visited this place once with Inwoo. Inwoo had muttered with a shocked expression that half the price of this apartment, which could buy a mansion in another international city, must be for the view, and Shushu chuckled in the darkness, recalling his words.

And that faint chuckle gradually stiffened and then disappeared. It wasn’t difficult to imagine Rau’s desire to show Lee Hyun this night view.

Taking a calm breath, Shushu placed the envelope he had brought on the minimalist long desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, opposite the bed. It was a plane ticket from New York to Paris, booked under the name Lau Wikun.

Rau was a man who could possess everything he desired through his own efforts, but even such a person sometimes needed encouragement and reassurance from those around him. Especially during a time when he felt timid in the face of love.

Suddenly, the sound of water from the inner bathroom stopped. Shushu, turning back hastily, paused once more before leaving the room. Hanging on the wall, nearly 7,000 miles from Seoul, was .

After Lee Hyun left for Paris, Rau had never mentioned his name himself, and when others happened to mention it, he had shown no reaction. He hadn’t forgotten, but perhaps he had decided to try and forget. He hid his feelings so much that it seemed that way.

But he hadn’t forgotten, nor did he intend to. He simply wasn’t the type of person to complain about his pain or seek advice. The fact that he had brought the painting all the way here for a mere month-long business trip spoke volumes.

Feeling a similar emotion to when he had accidentally glimpsed his father’s notebook filled with deeply human worries, when his father had seemed so large and strong in his childhood, Shushu lowered his gaze as if he hadn’t seen it and quickly left the room.

About five minutes later, Rau emerged from the hallway, his shirt buttons not fully fastened, his coat slung over his arm.

“You don’t need a spot to watch the countdown in Times Square, right? You’ve done all that before, haven’t you? Let’s go to Mott Street for some lamb skewers and sorghum liquor, like we used to do for New Year’s countdown.”

Rau, draping his coat over the back of the sofa, fastened his shirt buttons and suggested going to Chinatown. Shushu, looking up at Rau, who was forcing a cheerful demeanor, hesitated before finally speaking.

“Isn’t it… a bit too big for a good luck charm? Especially to bring all the way to New York.”

“What is?”

Rau, on his third button, glanced over.

“Lee Hyun’s painting.”

“……”

His hands slowed for a moment, but he pretended to focus only on fastening his button, biting his lower lip with his teeth without a word.

“Lee Hyun’s work was first revealed through ‘The Hands’ in the middle of this month.”

As he fastened the last button, Rau looked up at the ceiling, his tongue probing the inside of his cheek. He was clearly signaling that this was a topic he didn’t want to discuss, but Shushu was determined not to stop provoking him until he showed some emotion.

“Both pieces sold immediately upon release. They were that impressive. Much more honest and deeper, yet the expression became clear and simple…”

Rau scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger, turned, walked to the refrigerator, and took out a beer.

“Did you perhaps…”

Rau interrupted Shushu’s cautious opening by placing the beer he had taken a sip of back on the counter with a loud thud.

“What is it you want to know? Are you asking if I bought those paintings, disregarding Seo Yi-hyun’s decision and effort to test his potential on his own?”

“……”

Shushu had thought that Rau would want to own all of Lee Hyun’s works and would surely be keeping an eye on his activities. He had spoken with that simple thought in mind. But as Rau said, that approach wasn’t for Lee Hyun’s sake.

“I was shortsighted. I’m sorry. But… you knew all of Lee Hyun’s news too, didn’t you? You were watching him. So why aren’t you saying anything?”

“What is it you want to hear from me?”

Rau raised his voice. His disheveled eyes, which had been wandering towards the ceiling as if frustrated, now fixed on Shushu.

“Do you want to see me crying my eyes out saying I’m having a hard time? What difference does it make to talk to people around you?”

Puffing out his cheeks and letting out a long sigh, Rau ran his hands through his styled hair for going out and returned to the living room, slumping down in the seat opposite Shushu.

“Some people overcome situations that way. Unfortunately, your friend isn’t that type.”

Leaning his head back against the sofa back, Rau muttered in a subdued voice.

“Then go see him. Tell him to do something. Go and do something, say something, and resolve things with Lee Hyun.”

Rau, staring blankly at Shushu with his eyes lowered while his head was tilted back, blinked slowly.

“Everything you said is right.”

He threw out the words without preamble and then shook his shoulders, laughing as if recalling a funny memory from the past. He wiped his face several times until the laughter completely subsided.

“You said it when talking about Hong Seonyu. You said that even if I thought you were foolish and worried, that was your way of loving. That you had the right to live your life foolishly.”

“……”

“Actually, it wasn’t just that.”

Sitting up straight, Rau picked up the cigarette pack from the side of the coffee table. Although the apartment had been cleaned while he was out and the ashtray was empty, Shushu noticed several new packs of cigarettes stacked under the coffee table’s surface.

With a familiar movement, he lit a cigarette and placed the lighter on the table, saying,

“Your process of coming to terms with your past with Hong Seonyu. Your thoughts on that… I wanted him to accept me in the same way.”

Rau let out a low chuckle, as if mocking his own shallowness for changing his demeanor the moment the situation shifted, and bit his lip before changing his expression.

“I’m sorry for the things I said, judging your love by my own standards…”

“……”

Shushu’s eyes widened at the sincere, weighty apology. He shook his head, implying it was an unnecessary apology, but Rau wasn’t looking at him.

Rau, holding a cigarette in his hand that he seemed to have forgotten about after taking the first puff with his elbow resting on his thigh, stared intently at the smoke rising from it. Then, as if describing a vision seen within the smoke, he spoke, entranced.

“When I was in London, I met Hong Seonyu.”

Rau frowned deeply as he looked at Shushu’s unguarded face, which showed a light curiosity, unable to grasp the meaning of “met.”

“For a few months, we contacted each other when we felt like it and slept together.”

“Ah…”

Shushu’s lips parted, and a reflexive groan escaped him. He then leaned back against the seat. Rau didn’t add any further explanations, wanting to give him time to process the situation and gather his thoughts.

It didn’t take longer than expected for the initial, stinging shock to fade from Shushu’s face and a calm light to return. Rau crushed out the cigarette he had barely smoked and prepared to continue his confession.

“The reason I tried to stop you when you first introduced Hong Seonyu to me was…”

“Because it was a calculated approach towards me?”

“……”

“And the reason you couldn’t tell me until the end was because of the shock I would receive.”

Shushu picked up the purple hat that had been placed beside him, fiddled with the brim, and looked down, smiling.

“That’s right. If I had heard this back then, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it. I might have even resented you, who did nothing wrong, and pushed you away. Back then…”

Shushu smiled vaguely, the kind of smile one has when looking back at a past filled with youthful passion and immaturity, and paused.

“Back then, no matter what anyone told me, I would have come here with Hong Seonyu. So… it was good that you didn’t tell me then.”

Rau opened his lips, feeling a suffocating urge to say something, but he knew there was nothing more he could say to Shushu, who had already come to terms with the past.

“Back then, whether it was jealousy because you slept with Seonyu, or because you didn’t want to believe that Seonyu approached me with an agenda… I would have denied the situation and caused a scene. But what does it matter now? The reason Hong Seonyu and I fell out wasn’t because of your past with Hong Seonyu.”

“……”

“People will define our entire relationship solely by the initial motive or the fact that I cheated… but the definition I, as the person involved, have made is the true nature of our relationship.”

Shushu, who had been looking somewhere else, as if speaking to himself, or to his past self, rather than to Rau, suddenly met Rau’s eyes.

“Isn’t that right?”

Rau smiled silently back at Shushu, who asked with a playful glint in his eyes. Rau felt a sense of warmth for the first time in months, touched by his friend’s reaction to his belated confession and apology.

“So, what definition did you come up with?”

In response to Rau’s question, Shushu shrugged, placed the hat he had been fiddling with on his head, and stood up.

“Let’s go out and count down to the new year like we used to when we were drunk. Let’s go.”

■ ■ ■

“That will be 156 euros.”

“Yes, may I have the receipt, please?”

Lee Hyun replied in French to the clerk who had spoken in English. His pronunciation was still quite clumsy, but he tried to speak in French as much as he could. The clerk smiled at him, and Lee Hyun smiled back.

The large art supply store, known to both art students and the general public for carrying a wide range of stationery and art supplies, had four branches in Paris. Of these, Lee Hyun primarily frequented the branch in the Marais district, closest to ‘The Hands’ in the 19th arrondissement. The other artists at ‘The Hands’ did the same.

Although he had been visiting the store somewhat like a regular for the past two months, due to its large size and the fact that many employees worked different shifts, he hadn’t yet made an impression on all of them.

“Happy New Year (Bonne année)!”

“You too (Vous de même).”

After exchanging brief, pleasant New Year’s greetings, he took his bag and left the store. While it couldn’t compare to the mid-winter cold of Seoul, the Parisian weather on the last day of the year felt quite sharp, perhaps due to the wind.

Lee Hyun transferred his belongings into a large backpack next to the store entrance, turned up his coat collar to block the wind, and put his hands in his pockets as he walked north, passing a small park on his right. ‘Ttu’ (tout), his regular bookstore and gallery, was a two-minute walk away.

As he opened the door of ‘Ttu,’ its frame painted white, his hunched shoulders relaxed first in the warm air. As was often the case, the main floor was empty, and the sound of conversation drifted from the gallery connected behind the bookstore counter.

Waiting for someone to come out, Lee Hyun browsed the books slowly. ‘Ttu,’ which specialized in art books as well as books related to gender, was a place where time often slipped away while flipping through various titles.

“How was the book from last time? Did you finish it already?”

At the bright voice speaking in English with a French accent, Lee Hyun looked up. Beau Beau, who managed the bookstore section of ‘Ttu,’ was approaching him with his characteristic bright and gentle smile. Lee Hyun smiled back and put down the photo book he had been looking at.

“No, I’ve only read about half of it, but I’m enjoying it immensely. As you recommended, Beau Beau, essays do have their own unique characteristics.”

“Right? Essays are generally more psychologically accessible. That’s why most people start with essays and then move on to specialized books. Unlike you.”

Beau Beau smiled meaningfully and lightly poked Lee Hyun’s shoulder with his index finger. Lee Hyun glanced down sideways, rubbed the back of his neck, and gave an awkward laugh.

Since coming to Paris, he had started reading books about Alphas and Omegas little by little. At first, he didn’t know where to start, so he bought five or six books at once without much thought. After visiting for about two weeks, Beau Beau cautiously approached him and asked if he needed recommendations.

About a month later, after they had exchanged the fact that Lee Hyun was an artist affiliated with ‘The Hands’ in the 19th arrondissement and that Beau Beau was an Omega who ran ‘Ttu’ with his boyfriend, Beau Beau shared his story of late blooming at 25 and wandering for a while. His boyfriend was also an Alpha who had experienced his manifestation after the age of 20.

It wasn’t a casual chat like discussing clothing or food preferences, nor was it a solemn atmosphere of sharing a heavy, important secret.

It turned out that Beau Beau and his boyfriend ran a group called ‘Late Blooming’ (Apparition Tardive) through ‘Ttu.’ Seeing Lee Hyun frequenting ‘Ttu’ for weeks, engrossed in books about Alphas and Omegas, Beau Beau had decided to reveal his own situation first, thinking Lee Hyun might be an Alpha or Omega struggling with late blooming, to make it easier for Lee Hyun to open up.

“But you know… at this point, why don’t you just admit it?”

Beau Beau, with his arms crossed, leaned against a pillar next to a display and looked at Lee Hyun, narrowing his eyes. Lee Hyun’s eyes widened slightly as he ran his finger over the cover of the photo book he had been looking at.

“It’s more than just having a lot of interest in Alphas and Omegas. You’re delving into it too professionally. While many Betas show interest out of curiosity, it’s rare for someone to dive in with such determination as you. A Beta with your level of knowledge is probably only found among specialists.”

“That’s too much praise.”

As Lee Hyun tried to brush it off with a chuckle, Beau Beau, who had moved closer, nudged him with his broad, crossed arms.

“Your lover is an Alpha or an Omega, right? Huh? Or maybe the person you have a crush on is an Alpha or an Omega.”

“……”

Beau Beau urged Lee Hyun, who maintained an ambiguous smile, a few more times before uncrossing his arms and sighing.

“Sigh, I’d have better luck hearing ‘papa’ from my dog.”

Watching Beau Beau turn and head towards the counter, seemingly having given up on getting an answer, Lee Hyun smiled silently.

“Funny. Don’t use your pretty smile as a weapon.”

Beau Beau turned back with a glare, and Lee Hyun approached him, rummaged through his backpack, and presented a small framed picture decorated with a ribbon.

“I… stopped by to give you this. It’s a New Year’s gift.”

Beau Beau, looking genuinely touched as if receiving an unexpected gift, looked down at the frame and gently tapped Lee Hyun’s cheek with his hand reaching over the counter.

“It’s not much of a gift, but…”

“What are you talking about? Who knows how much this painting will be worth later.”

Lee Hyun chuckled as Beau Beau deliberately put on a serious expression, extending the arm holding the frame as if appraising the painting.

After exchanging thanks, a bisou, and a hug, Beau Beau insisted on gifting Lee Hyun the photo book he had been looking at earlier, despite Lee Hyun’s polite refusal.

He then walked Lee Hyun to the door and, with a rare hesitant and thoughtful expression, handed him a small card.

“Lee Hyun, I haven’t invited you before because you didn’t seem inclined, but if you’re open to it, please come to a meeting sometime. We use the name ‘Late Blooming’ to convey a core message, but as you know, our ultimate goal is to encourage interest and understanding towards all other genders for everyone. Fortunately, our activities are bearing fruit, and the number of Betas attending the meetings is increasing. Whether you are a Beta, Alpha, or Omega, you are always welcome if you have a genuine interest in your own gender and other genders.”

“……”

Lee Hyun took the card he handed him. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and bit it gently with his teeth. For now, he couldn’t give any definite answer, so he just looked at the card.

Beau Beau patted Lee Hyun’s shoulder. Lee Hyun put the card in his coat pocket and smiled at him without showing his teeth.

“Bonne année.”

“Bonne année.”

After another somewhat awkward bisou, Lee Hyun stepped out onto the windy street and walked further north towards the metro station.

From 5 PM on December 31st to noon on January 1st, all public transportation in Paris, including the metro, buses, trams, and RER, was free. Even without that, the last day of the year was bound to be crowded in any city in the world.

On the crowded metro, more so than usual, Lee Hyun found a spot near the inner doors, took out his phone, and sent a message to Yuni. As soon as he sent the message stating he would arrive at their meeting spot within 30 minutes, a quick reply came back. It said she had already arrived and was drinking coffee at a nearby cafe.

He leaned his head against the glass of the door, which dimly reflected the people inside the metro, with no scenery visible. He chuckled, picturing her, who must be downing coffee nervously after arriving 30 minutes early.

Today, the last day of the year. Lee Hyun was on his way to Saint-Philippe-du-Roule station to go see the New Year’s countdown event at the Arc de Triomphe with Yuni and her friend Michelle. They planned to have dinner near La Boétie street, which was relatively less crowded, before entering the Champs-Élysées. It was Michelle’s suggestion.

She was four years older than Yuni and five years older than Lee Hyun. She was an Indian-British woman who had been living in Paris for 10 years, making her a Parisian. She worked for a mid-sized designer brand with considerable recognition in France and Europe and was one of the frequent visitors to ‘The Hands’ gallery.

Yuni and Michelle, who met as visitor and gallerist, had become close and had been meeting outside the gallery much more frequently in the past two to three weeks. Watching their pleasant caution towards each other, it was natural to feel that they were not just considering each other as friends.

Lee Hyun didn’t want to be an oblivious third wheel between them, but Yuni, who begged him to come along, seemed worried about spending New Year’s alone with Michelle.

Watching the two of them, he thought that perhaps he and Rau should not have missed this stage either. The stage of having mutual interest and cautiously getting closer.

Order is just a manual, not an absolute guideline, and while he never felt a lack of understanding, interest, or connection during his relationship with Rau… he couldn’t help but think that if they had gotten closer step by step through such a phase, they might have had the temporal and emotional space to explain their situations or their desires for each other, and to consider those explanations.

He had spent the last two months pondering all sorts of things.

Most of his thoughts involved imagining going back to a certain point in the past and making different choices. And, as is often the case with such imaginings, the endings were always hazy.

That was the realization he had come to after two months of dedicated effort.

Even if he used hypothetical scenarios to erase past choices and write new ones in their place, he couldn’t be sure if it would have led to better outcomes.

As the metro pulled into the platform at Saint-Philippe-du-Roule station, Lee Hyun straightened up, adjusted his backpack, and stepped off the train, swept along by the crowd. The exit signs in the Paris metro were unhelpful, but thanks to Yuni’s prior explanation, he avoided the hassle of coming out the wrong exit and having to re-search the map app.

About halfway to their meeting spot, he met Yuni in front of a photo studio. She was already famous among ‘The Hands’ staff and visitors for her unique and flattering styling, but she seemed to have put in extra effort for this special occasion.

Since they had left ‘The Hands’ at different times, this was the first time they were seeing each other today. Her face, a mix of nervousness and excitement, was pressed against Lee Hyun’s arm as she linked her arm with his, hunching her shoulders.

“Ugh, I’m going to freeze to death trying to look good.”

Wondering if Paris had a weather jinx like Korea, where the temperature suddenly drops on the day of the Suneung exam, they talked about the chilly weather as they turned into a side alley.

As the sign for their meeting place began to come into clear view, they spotted Michelle waving from across the street. Like a designer, she was also dressed stylishly.

Yuni, who enjoyed taking bold design risks, and Michelle, who preferred minimalist style, created a surprisingly harmonious atmosphere despite seeming like an unlikely pair. It was an interesting blend of unexpectedness, not the obvious compatibility everyone knows.

As they spotted each other, their faces lit up, and their eyes sparkled. Seeing it through others, he understood better why people say love cannot be hidden.

He must have been like that before. He knew that feeling. The flutter that starts before the brain even registers, the body reacting first as soon as the other person comes into view. The sensations of simply liking them, liking them so much… that he had to consciously slow his steps, try to prevent his smile from spreading too wide.

Lee Hyun pretended to feel the cold, pulling his chin into his collar, and bit his lip to suppress a wry smile.

The cafe Michelle recommended was located a bit off La Boétie street, and from the outside, it didn’t look particularly special. It probably wasn’t very popular with tourists who wanted to feel the romance of Paris even in a cup of coffee or a lunch.

Michelle had explained that its main customers were local residents and nearby office workers, making it a place where one could get a decent meal at a relatively good price.

“My previous office was near the Champs-Élysées, and this was one of the cafes I found then. I couldn’t afford to eat a 20-euro lunch every day, so I looked around everywhere.”

Nodding at Michelle’s words, I glanced around the cafe. The place had a grid-patterned tile floor, round tables covered with white tablecloths, chairs upholstered with red leather cushions, and a heavy mahogany bar occupying the back. It felt old but well-maintained and clean.

To Lee Hyun’s eyes, this was already an exotic and wonderful place, but he also thought that perhaps, despite it being a special occasion, they had chosen a more common venue considering his own financial situation.

“I was sad we couldn’t spend Christmas together, but I’m so glad we can welcome the New Year like this.”

The waiter, who had set up the wine as Michelle requested, left the table. Michelle pulled up a chair and smiled faintly at Yuni.

Unlike Lee Hyun, who had obtained a special visa for artists who had clearly established their affiliation and met certain conditions, Yuni, who had applied for a work visa, had to go to Seoul for about ten days recently due to visa issues.

Michelle was expressing her regret about missing Christmas because of that. Without rushing to close the distance, she didn’t hide that she had special feelings for Yuni, and the same was true for Yuni. The two were approaching each other like two dancers with perfect chemistry.

“This year has been so much more special because I met you two.”

“We feel the same. Thanks to Michelle, we were able to adapt to life in Paris more quickly. Thank you.”

Yuni responded to Michelle’s toast, and Lee Hyun also raised his glass with a smile towards Michelle in agreement. Just as their glasses were about to clink, Michelle paused, pulling her glass back, and added with a playful expression.

“And, congratulations to our ‘next prospective star of The Hands’ on your successful Paris debut and first sale.”

Michelle finished her toast by quoting a phrase used in an art magazine’s review of Lee Hyun’s work. Lee Hyun’s head bowed in embarrassment.

“It’s truly something to celebrate and be proud of. Lee Hyun has very successfully proven their potential to become a full-time artist. If things continue like this, you might have to vacate The Hands’ studio soon?”

Michelle said cheekily, placing her wine glass on the table.

Unless they showed artistic achievement for a certain period or their artwork sales exceeded $30,000 USD, artists could no longer receive support from ‘The Hands’. Leaving the organization for the latter reason was a wish for all affiliated artists.

“Except in very special cases, it takes time for a new artist’s work to sell for over $30,000. That’s why ‘The Hands’ allows for continued artistic activity, freeing artists from the worry of livelihood and enabling free creation. Although it’s minimal support for subsistence, it means you can pursue the work you want without financial constraints, making it a great opportunity for artists struggling with money.”

Michelle, who had momentarily moved back to allow the waiter to place the bread basket, reached for the basket and added, looking at Lee Hyun.

“Of course, if you hadn’t shown ability and potential, you wouldn’t have even received an offer to join.”

Escargots, beef stew, salmon steak with rice, and duck confit served with a mountain of french fries overflowing the plate. As they ate and drank heartily, discussing various topics, three hours flew by.

“I’ll pay today. For my first… painting sale.”

While waiting for the waiter to bring the bill, Lee Hyun hesitantly offered, and as expected, the other two insisted firmly on splitting the bill.

“I’ve already relied on you both so much… Please let me treat you just this once.”

After setting aside a small amount of pocket money, all the proceeds from the painting sale had been deposited to Rau, so Lee Hyun wasn’t exactly flush with cash. However, they couldn’t let such an opportunity pass without expressing gratitude for the consideration they had received. Though they looked reluctant, the two didn’t refuse entirely, understanding Lee Hyun’s sincerity.

Stepping out onto the street, the atmosphere felt much more festive than before. A few excited young people rushed past the three of them. Lee Hyun, walking a step or two behind Michelle and Yuni, fiddled with their phone in their pocket.

Even after the money was deposited, there had been no contact from Rau. Lee Hyun also hadn’t sent a single message, let alone a call, for two months.

They had been letting time pass, creating no connection as if they had never met, yet strangely, Lee Hyun was certain that Rau was watching them. And perhaps, that Rau hadn’t touched the money they sent.

But just as Rau couldn’t afford to not touch their money, Lee Hyun couldn’t afford not to send it. The act of one person sending money and the other confirming receipt of it was like the only link connecting them.

Lee Hyun pulled their hand away from their phone as they hurried to catch up with Yuni and Michelle, who were waving and calling them to come quickly.

There was only one reason he wasn’t contacting them.

He understood that more time was still needed.

Even before reaching the Champs-Élysées, the crowd was immense. Michelle guided the flustered Lee Hyun and Yuni to a hidden vantage point.

“There’s no need to go to the front. The fireworks are the highlight, and it’s actually more spectacular to watch from further back so you can see it all at once.”

Due to the dense crowd, where it was hard to move, the three had to walk in a single file. Michelle naturally found and held Yuni’s hand, who was following closely behind.

Most of the young people were already quite drunk, holding beer bottles, singing songs, and shouting, offering boisterous New Year’s greetings to everyone around them.

Broken bottles and cigarette butts littered the ground. It was more chaotic than expected, but perhaps due to the excitement of the approaching New Year, people were smiling and responding rather than frowning.

“I’ve seen the ball drop in New York, and compared to that crowd, this is manageable. Back then, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom and thought I was going to die for nearly 10 hours. The cold was also incomparable to here. What about Korea? Does Korea have New Year’s countdown events like this?”

Yuni explained the Bosingak bell-ringing ceremony in Jongno to Michelle. Michelle showed great interest in the event where the New Year is welcomed by ringing a large bell thirty-three times and said she hoped to see it in person someday.

As she spoke, Michelle looked warmly at Yuni, so Lee Hyun realized she was hinting at wanting to go with Yuni. Yuni also didn’t pretend not to understand, smiling back.

A little past 11 o’clock, the Arc de Triomphe light show began, followed by spectacular fireworks as the New Year arrived. People were seen exchanging greetings with kisses everywhere. Couples shared deep kisses. Michelle and Yuni also shared a more significant kiss than one between friends, holding it for a long time.

It was already seven hours past the start of the New Year in Seoul.

New York… it was still evening, about six hours before the New Year.

Lee Hyun knew from Yuni that Rau had been staying in New York for about three weeks due to an exhibition with H&W.

Lee Hyun hadn’t explained anything about Changing, nor had they detailed their dealings with Rau. By not mentioning him, Yuni seemed to infer that their relationship had ended. Although Lee Hyun deliberately didn’t share details about Rau, they didn’t unnaturally avoid mentioning his news when it came up in conversation.

Hearing his name alone brought a complex pain, yet at the same time, hearing news of him from someone made them feel a little more alive.

Watching the fireworks bloom brilliantly, conveying the hope of the New Year, Lee Hyun wished that Rau would welcome the New Year without being lonely. That someone would be with him. That he… wouldn’t hurt too much.

Even after leaving the Champs-Élysées immediately after the fireworks to avoid the rush of the crowd, the entrance to the subway station was already so packed that they couldn’t even dare to approach it. After passing several stations and walking for over 30 minutes, the three finally managed to enter a station.

Michelle, who lived in the 6th arrondissement, better known as the Latin Quarter, and Lee Hyun were on different platforms. Michelle and Yuni waved goodbye until the last moment across the tracks, expressing their reluctance to part. Yuni chuckled at Michelle’s exaggerated, playful acting but didn’t seem embarrassed.

Michelle’s subway arrived first, and soon after, a subway pulled into Lee Hyun’s platform. The inside of the subway was also crowded with people who had enjoyed the New Year’s countdown, not just on the Champs-Élysées but all over Paris.

“Ah… it was good to go, right?”

As if the tension had eased after parting with Michelle, Yuni leaned their head against the subway door and said with a sigh. Lee Hyun nodded.

“But I don’t think there’s a need to go twice. Once was enough of an experience for me.”

Recalling the cold, the waiting, and a few Parisian youths who had been so drunk they made one frown, Yuni shook their head slightly this time, looking tired.

“You would have preferred spending it alone with Michelle in your room, wouldn’t you?”

At Lee Hyun’s rather mischievous joke, Yuni poked Lee Hyun’s cheek with a gloved hand and shot them a look that wasn’t entirely displeased.

One of the changes since coming here was that Lee Hyun no longer used formal language with Yuni. Although Yuni and Joo-han had told them to stop using formal language soon after they met, it had been difficult to change because they had started with formal speech. But living together and seeing each other every day, at some point, “Unnie, would you like to have lunch together?” naturally changed to “Unnie, shall we have lunch together?”

Even when meeting someone they liked, or when the environment was conducive to painting, the support and gratitude they felt for each other in this unfamiliar city didn’t even need to be expressed in words.

Leaving the excited energy of the cafes and pubs lining the Canal Saint-Martin, they turned into an inner alley, hand in hand, swinging their arms widely, and slowly headed towards ‘The Hands,’ towards home, as if enjoying a night stroll.

The lobby on the first floor, where the exhibition hall and offices were located, was dark and silent, but a boisterous noise could be heard from the common living room upstairs. Although it wasn’t an official party like on Christmas, it seemed like the artists, most of whom were not from Paris, were having a small beer party.

“How was the Arc de Triomphe? It looked like the crowd was huge again this year on TV.”

Ben, a German artist and one of the longest-staying artists at ‘The Hands,’ was the first to wave enthusiastically upon spotting Yuni and Lee Hyun.

“It was amazing. Waiting was a bit boring and my legs hurt, though.”

“Still, if you’re in Paris, it’s not bad to experience it once. We all welcomed the New Year at the Arc de Triomphe or the Eiffel Tower in our first year.”

The prior explanation from ‘The Hands’ that French wouldn’t be a major inconvenience was true. Unless one was working and actively engaged in the daily grind, Paris was a city where communication for things like shopping or ordering at restaurants was sufficient with just English.

Moreover, ‘The Hands’ offered basic French conversation classes to its affiliated artists.

“Would you… like to join us? We still have plenty of pizza and beer left.”

Jun, who was hesitantly and cautiously inviting them, was one of the artists who attended the French conversation classes most enthusiastically, along with Lee Hyun. With a slender build, tall stature, and looking much more like a boy than a young man, he was the youngest at ‘The Hands,’ having turned nineteen just a few hours ago, calculated by Korean age.

“Uh… I’d like to, but I’m a bit tired. I stayed up past my usual bedtime, so I’m very sleepy.”

At Lee Hyun’s gentle refusal, Jun nodded with a smile but couldn’t hide his disappointment. Unlike Michelle and Yuni, who didn’t need to hide their feelings or pretend not to know the other’s emotions, Lee Hyun pretended not to notice why he was disappointed, offered a brief New Year’s greeting, and left the living room with Yuni.

“Is it okay to be that friendly?”

As they reached the stair landing, Yuni lowered their voice and nudged Lee Hyun’s arm.

“Jun likes you. If you treat him so kindly, he might get his hopes up.”

Lee Hyun smiled and shook their head.

“That’s not it.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s not it’? You’re being subtly cruel.”

“It’s not that. I told him I have a boyfriend.”

“……You did?”

“Yeah.”

Yuni looked curious about the details but didn’t pry.

Lee Hyun hadn’t blurted out about having a boyfriend to someone who hadn’t asked. They had simply mentioned naturally that Jun, who was from Hong Kong, had a boyfriend who was also from Hong Kong, of mixed British and Korean heritage. It was said with the intention of sensing Jun’s faint interest and not wanting him to develop deeper feelings, so Lee Hyun wasn’t sure if it had sounded natural.

In fact… Lee Hyun wasn’t even sure if the statement about having a boyfriend, or that their boyfriend was from Hong Kong, was true.

After parting with Yuni and coming up to the fourth floor, Lee Hyun dropped their bag on the floor as soon as they entered the room. Without turning on the light or taking off their coat, they collapsed onto the bed. Although they had told Jun they were tired, it was only upon being alone in their room that the real exhaustion hit.

Rubbing their neck and looking around, Lee Hyun remembered and took out the card Bobo had given them from their pocket. Looking at the brief text introducing the purpose of the ‘late blooming’ gathering and its website, Lee Hyun tapped the corner of the card against their lips before leaning back and lying down.

A faint sound of laughter drifted through the old door from the living room downstairs, as if someone had told a funny joke. Lee Hyun, lying down, touched their lower lip and gazed at the shadow of the window frame cast on the ceiling.

Although the window was closed, the scent of Rau momentarily wafted under their nose with a gentle breeze. Knowing it was a hallucination brought on by ingrained memory, Lee Hyun focused their consciousness to not let go of that faint lingering fragrance.

His phantom appearing, or his voice being heard… such things had never happened. Yet, even without any trigger, his scent would suddenly come alive in memory and stimulate their actual sense of smell.

How many times had they stopped in the middle of the street, or while engrossed in work, only to look around as if suddenly waking from a dream.

Like the kiss he had given, like he sometimes did when they couldn’t kiss. And like they often did when alone, recalling kisses with him. Lee Hyun forcefully twisted their lips between their fingers. Feeling a dull ache, they turned their body while lying down. Gazing at the window, where the blue, red, and white lights of small fireworks launched from the canal flickered, they curled up and murmured.

Happy New Year.

……Awi.

■ ■ ■

A monsoon that wasn’t like a monsoon. The dry spell, which was only humid and saw few heavy downpours, had already passed by early July. This time, they said a typhoon was coming, and the sound of raindrops hitting the window was quite solid.

Rau, who was sorting through materials scattered around the room—books, art books, printed reports, pamphlet samples—and stacking the ones they would take home onto their desk, paused and turned around at the sound of a brief commotion outside the open door behind them. Choi In-woo, holding a shopping bag full of lunch boxes, was being greeted with enthusiastic cheers.

Rau chuckled at the staff’s reaction, unsure if they were welcoming Inwoo or the lunch boxes. Then, they placed the Nyoman Gunarsa art book, which they had been flipping through, on top of the pile of books they had already selected.

Even though the New York branch opening was canceled, they had hired the director they had decided on, so despite Yuni’s job change, Phantom had ended up with two more employees than before.

As a result, Rau found themselves working more often in their own room at the very back of the office, which had been rarely used before. Sitting behind a large desk with a sofa set in front, maintaining physical distance from other employees, was not their preferred arrangement, but having time alone was more comfortable.

It wasn’t that the affection for Phantom, or the passion for work, had cooled. It was simply that a certain period had passed, and I had to accept that it was bound to become a memory, tinged with wistful nostalgia and tender emotions.

“Everyone seemed to be having a great time? They said they were all going out for drinks after work?”

Inwoo entered the room, gesturing with his chin towards the office, and placed his and Rau’s lunchboxes on the coffee table. Rau stopped what he was doing and helped open the lunchboxes. The lunchboxes, which seemed to have five or six side dishes at a glance, were lavishly arranged. It was no wonder the staff cheered.

“Why are you grinning like that again?”

As I took out two small bottles of water from the refrigerator, I didn’t like Inwoo’s expression as he glanced my way and chuckled to himself, so I stopped halfway through offering him the water and nudged his shoulder.

“They don’t even invite you anymore?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I have an early flight tomorrow morning, so I declined?”

Rau tossed the water bottle to me, then plopped down on the sofa and twisted the cap off his own bottle.

“Isn’t this the first time the entire gallery has closed for two weeks since we opened?”

“Last year… we couldn’t even give proper holidays.”

Rau paused, his gaze momentarily unfocused, as if reluctant to mention the same time last year, then tilted his water bottle to wet his throat.

This year, we had attended the same art fair in Hong Kong as last year. We managed the fair smoothly with the new members, and achieved better results than last year, reflecting a year’s growth. But now, Hong Kong, at least Hong Kong during that period, was filled entirely with Lee Hyun’s memories.

A time when we still knew so little about each other, when we’d steal glances and probe, guessing the other’s intentions by our own standards, sometimes getting disappointed or belittling them for reasons unknown… yet ultimately, unable to tear our eyes away from each other.

The sensation of a body reaching out for photos, touching my chest, or the gaze exchanged through the smoke of a cigarette I’d never smoked before, which made me bite my lip until it hurt… At the time, I tried not to look too closely, and even if I had noticed, I would have just laughed it off, refusing to acknowledge it, but it was a memory of a quiet young man who constantly stoked an irresistible curiosity, and the memory of that attraction.

It was also a memory of how, when Lee Hyun’s fingertips brushed the surface of pheromones that had long remained dormant, ripples would form in layers, chasing his scent.

Rau puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply, setting down his water bottle and picking up his chopsticks. Inwoo, who had apparently worked late at the hospital, was already scooping up a spoonful of glistening brown rice, his hunger evident.

“I got a week off in the middle of your vacation. Could I use your mother’s studio in Gangwon-do then?”

“If you’re bringing someone, I wouldn’t really recommend it. It’s not the glamorous, sophisticated place the people you casually date would expect.”

Inwoo’s chopstick movements slowed as he picked up the japchae. Then, while still hunched over the lunchbox, he turned his head and looked up at Rau with a displeased expression.

“I’m not borrowing it to work on that.”

Rau shrugged at the indignant Inwoo and pretended not to notice as he crumbled a corner of the tteokgalbi with his chopsticks.

“Even if I wanted to focus on my work, I don’t get as much time as I think. I’m just going to paint during my vacation. I envy full-time artists these days.”

“……”

“Ah… if it weren’t for the hospital, I’d apply to ‘The Hands’ too.”

Rau looked back at Inwoo when he said he’d focus on painting during his vacation, then shifted his gaze back to the tteokgalbi. But the crumbled piece of food didn’t quite make it into Rau’s mouth.

“Are you already starting preparations for the second half’s joint exhibition? You’ve changed, Choi In-woo.”

“No, I’m preparing for a solo exhibition.”

“……”

This time, Rau’s chopstick movements stopped completely.

Inwoo, who clearly had talent and a thirst to express his emotions through painting, had always treated his art as if he had drawn a line between himself and the object of his unrequited love, maintaining a certain distance for fear of falling too deep.

Although his workload had increased and his style had gradually changed since the end of last year, Rau had never expected to hear Inwoo, who used to only work on his art in his spare time and present two or three pieces at joint exhibitions, say he wanted to have a solo exhibition.

“You’re not thinking of holding a solo exhibition with just two or three pieces, are you? Do you have any works set aside?”

Instead of dwelling on all those changes, Rau asked casually, as if it were nothing.

“That’s why I’m skipping the second half’s group exhibition. I’ll focus on my solo exhibition goal for early next year.”

“I’m against just filling up the number of works for the purpose of holding a solo exhibition.”

“That’s what I want least of all.”

Shortly after returning from New York, Inwoo had come to my place first.

By the time Lee Hyun became aware of the situation, a considerable amount of time had already passed, yet we didn’t not know each other well enough to need every word and action explained. Nevertheless, Inwoo, uncharacteristically, pointed out his own mistakes one by one and offered a formal apology.

Regarding the ‘Changing,’ and the overly aggressive, hurtful words, as if he were an impartial judge.

Although his emotions had been heightened, Rau also thought that the words of Inwoo and Shushu were not fundamentally wrong. However, he couldn’t be so lenient about the kiss with Lee Hyun.

“It’s something you should apologize to Seo Yi-hyun for, not me. And since Seo Yi-hyun forgave you, that’s that.”

Perhaps that was his way of saying that even if Lee Hyun forgave me, I shouldn’t expect his own forgiveness.

Once Inwoo had emptied himself of his courage, Rau offered him coffee. Although half of his own lunchbox remained, he made coffee for two. While the coffee brewed, he leaned against the cabinet where the coffee maker sat and looked out at the rain still pouring down outside.

This rain wouldn’t last all night, and according to his prior check, it wasn’t a typhoon with a particularly threatening wind speed. It was unlikely to affect his flight tomorrow morning.

“You’re really not going to tell Lee Hyun-ssi?”

“……”

Rau uncrossed his arms and turned to face Inwoo behind him. Inwoo was looking at him with a serious expression, demanding a sincere answer. Rau showed no reaction and turned back, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into two mugs.

Inwoo took the mug from Rau, cupping it in both hands. Perhaps it was the strong air conditioning, set high due to the humidity, but even in midsummer, the warmth of the mug seemed welcome.

“Lee Hyun-ssi also has the right to know what kind of being he is.”

“Without a Ghost by his side, Diamond Dust is just an ordinary Beta.”

Rau took a sip of coffee, placed the mug on the table, and walked over to his desk. He picked up the remote and adjusted the air conditioner’s temperature, continuing, “He’s already struggling to work abroad. Why unnecessarily confuse him with something he doesn’t need to worry about right now?”

“Don’t you want to see Seo Yi-hyun, who’s turned twenty-three?”

“……”

Rau turned to look at Inwoo, who had suddenly changed the direction of the conversation, and sighed, shrugging his shoulders with a displeased look. He then picked up his mug from the coffee table and returned to his desk, beginning to sort through the piles of documents.

Inwoo, who had been staring intently at Rau’s profile as he organized his desk, occasionally taking sips of coffee, relaxed his expression and let out a low chuckle before standing up.

“I asked a foolish question. Have a good vacation.”

Whether he was expressing his longing for Lee Hyun, or whether the people around him understood his stance on not contacting him, Rau himself was not trying to forget Lee Hyun, nor was he giving up on him. He was certainly not trying to stop his love for him.

He simply knew that now was not the time. As he had told Lee Hyun, he would protect his truth and wait for the right moment.

As the task of dividing the sorted documents into shopping bags and a briefcase was nearing completion, someone knocked on the open door. It was Joo-han.

Rau signaled him to come in with a glance. Joo-han approached hesitantly, uncharacteristically, and handed him a file.

“What is this?”

“Um, I suppose you could call it a business proposal.”

Joo-han scratched his cheek with his index finger, feigning a playful expression to hide his embarrassment. Rau glanced at him and took the file.

It was a proposal with a rather significant and ambitious title: ““.

“You said you’d support us if we showed initiative. So, I thought about it. How Phantom can transform from a place that exhibits art as a luxury for a select few, into a friendly space where the public can embrace art as part of their lives! Of course… you might not be keen on customers coming in just to drink coffee, Representative, but the era of haughty art is long gone. If the public interacts with art more often…”

“Did you show this to Manager Han?”

“Huh? Yes.”

Rau quickly scanned the proposal, which seemed quite plausible, including case studies, budget estimates if the proposal were approved, and projected profits.

Rau suppressed a smile that threatened to escape, and put the file into his briefcase along with other documents.

“Alright, I’ll think about it during my vacation.”

“……Yes?”

“I said I’ll review it and give you an answer.”

“Ah… Yes. Thank you…”

Joo-han, who had likely prepared an enthusiastic persuasive speech, expecting to be rejected on the spot, looked more bewildered than pleased at Rau’s words about reviewing it. He seemed like someone who had braced themselves for a fight only to be met with an embrace.

“Um, Representative, thank you for the business class seat.”

Joo-han turned back at the door, as if remembering something he’d forgotten, and called out to Rau.

“Bring me back a souvenir.”

“And thank you for the allowance.”

Rau nodded as he zipped up his briefcase, which was packed so tightly there wasn’t even room for another sheet of A4 paper. Joo-han, leaning against the doorframe and fiddling with the doorknob, said in a casual, unforced voice.

“I’ll buy Lee Hyun something delicious to eat.”

“……”

Rau finally stopped and leaned back against his desk. Rainwater continued to stream down the window in front of him. He could hear the sounds of employees leaving the office, their voices excited about the upcoming long vacation.

Looking up at the ceiling, Rau inhaled, then moistened his lips with his tongue. The next moment, he looked down at the floor and exhaled. He turned his head to the side without lifting it, and his hair fell, obscuring his eyes. He picked up his mug with his long fingers. Despite having increased the desired indoor temperature on the air conditioner, the coffee had completely cooled by then.

■ ■ ■

The child was still building walls, bristling with thorns beyond them. Throughout the meeting, with arms crossed and a sullen, defiant expression, staring vaguely into space, it was impossible to tell if they were even listening to people’s stories.

Still, since it wasn’t a mandatory meeting, the fact that they kept attending on their own was a sign of hope, and Bobo’s stance was to wait patiently.

“How was it today? It gets a little better when you realize you’re not the only one struggling, right? How many ‘abnormal’ people there are in the world.”

After the meeting, as people left, Bobo, standing by the long snack table set against the wall, picked up a cookie and said with a smile, patting the child’s shoulder. It was a playful retort, borrowing the child’s own words about male omegas and female alphas being ‘abnormal.’

“Why don’t you help clean up first, instead of eating cookies later, hun?”

Bobo wrapped an arm around the child’s neck from behind and pulled. The child, losing balance and being dragged along, grumbled, but it seemed they didn’t entirely dislike Bobo’s playful antics.

Bobo didn’t treat the child with excessive caution. His judgment was that trying to teach them gently, or approaching them as an ‘adult’ who understood everything, would be ineffective.

Bobo and his boyfriend first met the child three weeks ago at Parc de la Villette. In a peaceful corner of the park, where young children played in the playground, families picnicked and laughed, and couples in swimsuits shared kisses while sunbathing, the child sat on the ground, curled up and sweating, behind the information booth, in a shaded spot out of people’s way.

Bobo and his boyfriend, finding it strange that the child, who seemed to be deliberately hiding, didn’t ask for help from others, approached and asked if they needed assistance.

The child was starting their heat cycle. They hadn’t taken suppressants, and the couple immediately took the child to a small nearby hospital to get a prescription and take suppressants.

The 14-year-old boy, Nicholas, was unable to accept the fact that he had manifested as an Omega. He hadn’t told his school or his family, and insisted he didn’t need suppressants, trying to endure his heat cycle unprotected, a dangerous situation.

The couple invited the child to ‘Late Blooming.’ The child, who had left them saying they would never live as an Omega, had shown up for the third meeting today.

“Nick, you should probably tell your parents soon.”

Bobo said casually as he folded chairs in half and stacked them neatly at the back of the exhibition hall. But the child’s face turned red, and they jumped up.

“Absolutely, absolutely not! If my father finds out, he’ll kick me out!”

“You hate your father so much, yet you’re afraid of being kicked out of his house?”

“……”

From the first time they came to the meeting, the child had spoken with a frightened expression, saying that if their father knew they were an Omega, he wouldn’t even look at them and might send them to a mental hospital out of shame and disgust. They were pessimistic, believing their life was completely over, predicting they would be ostracized and bullied at school and wouldn’t be able to get a proper job.

Ultimately, the child’s denial of being an Omega stemmed not from their own judgment, but from society’s and the surrounding people’s prejudice against Omegas.

“Anyway. Really. Don’t tell my father behind my back, okay?”

“Why would I do your job for you? Who would that benefit? Don’t expect that.”

Bobo playfully pushed the child’s forehead, who was clinging to his arm with an almost pleading expression, and smiled mischievously.

Lee Hyun, glancing nervously at the two, wondering if the child’s anxiety and rebellion would explode and they would run off, never to return, shouldered the old bag left on the snack table after finishing the last chair.

“Um… I should get going.”

“Oh? I’ll go with you!”

The child grabbed several large chocolate chip cookies and followed Lee Hyun out. The canal separated the child’s home from ‘The Hands,’ a walk of about 20 minutes. This was the third time they were walking home together, having learned this fact on the child’s first day at the meeting.

Nick never brought up topics like Alpha or Omega on the subway, but when walking on the street, he was much more proactive and open about various things than when he was at ‘Ttu.’

“Why do male Omegas even exist? I just want to die.”

Walking along the canal on their left after getting off at Rome Street station, Nick said, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking a stone on the ground. It was an extreme statement, unsuited for a leisurely Sunday afternoon bathed in sunlight, but Lee Hyun now knew that Nick’s words of wanting to die didn’t carry serious weight.

“There are even male Betas who envy male Omegas because they want children with their Alpha partners.”

“That person must be gay!”

“Hmm… his lover was a female Alpha?”

“A man… wants to become an Omega to get his girlfriend pregnant with his child?”

The child, turning to Lee Hyun with a face as if he’d heard of a bizarre and disgusting crime, stopped walking, perhaps due to the shock.

“The two of them wanted a child born between them, and if it were possible, they were willing to become an Omega. Is it that important, who carries the child between two people in love?”

More than half a year had passed since Lee Hyun began attending the ‘Late Blooming’ group after much hesitation. During that time, he had met people in various situations and heard their deep stories, their worries, their wounds and how they overcame them, or their frustrations that they couldn’t overcome. It was half a year where he learned that there is no absolutely right gender, no good gender, and that people’s desired genders and how they accept their own gender vary depending on the situation and environment.

Lee Hyun spoke about a few male Omegas who might break Nick’s prejudice. However, the reaction was not much different from before.

“Whatever they do, I never wanted that! Then make those men Omegas! I… I really hate becoming this kind of monster.”

Nick, shouting with a face that looked like he was about to cry, bit his lower lip tightly, turned his back on Lee Hyun, and started walking again.

At the child’s words, Lee Hyun felt a brief, dull throbbing, as if his head had been lightly struck.

He remembered how he himself had described himself as a monster, stopped in a half-state, neither Beta nor Omega.

He remembered how he had called himself a monster.

“Lee Hyun-ah.”

He, who had called him that for the first time, seemed like a person standing under a collapsing sky. He knew now that by calling himself a monster in front of him, someone who couldn’t even dare approach him carelessly, he had not only wounded himself but also deeply stabbed him in the heart.

This time, Lee Hyun stopped walking. Nick, who had been walking a few steps ahead, noticed Lee Hyun had stopped belatedly and looked back. Nick squinted his eyes, facing the strong sunlight.

“Males penetrate, and females receive penetration. Both male and female are necessary for pregnancy, but in reality, it is the female who becomes pregnant…. Calling that ‘normal’ is a Beta’s standard.”

“Most of the world is Beta.”

“Just because most people are Beta doesn’t mean everyone is Beta. Is it justifiable to treat the majority as ‘normal’ and the remaining minority as ‘abnormal’ just because they are the majority?”

“……”

Lee Hyun thought he was talking about something too difficult for a fourteen-year-old boy, so he relaxed his shoulders and let out a light sigh. Then, he took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket on the left side of his t-shirt.

“What I mean is… there’s no need to make everything else abnormal by insisting on only one thing as normal.”

Nick looked up at Lee Hyun askew, his expression still showing he didn’t quite understand.

“Hyung, what are you? Are you really Beta?”

His tone was suspicious. The child had grown up in a world where Betas naturally defined themselves as ‘normal’. Like… in Grandfather’s village.

Looking into Nick’s honest eyes, a mixture of confusion, anxiety, anger, and fear, Lee Hyun slowly opened his mouth.

“I… am nothing.”

“What does that mean?”

“I could be Beta, or in the future… I might become an Omega.”

Lee Hyun took a deep breath. Even if Nick didn’t know, he himself knew the meaning and weight hidden behind these words.

He hadn’t expected to speak about the topic he had been building up and tearing down within himself, approaching and turning away, for nearly ten months since leaving Seoul, in this way.

“You saw it at the meeting. How many people developed in their mid-to-late twenties. No one knows what I will become in the future. And… whatever I become or don’t become, I am still myself, and not a monster.”

“……”

“I attend ‘Late Blooming’ because I don’t want to see anyone other than myself as a monster.”

Despite the lingering dissatisfaction and questions, Nick’s expression had softened compared to before. Lee Hyun started walking again, giving Nick’s back a gentle nudge as if to encourage him. Nick looked at Lee Hyun and slowly nodded.

Nick’s prejudices, absorbed from society and his family, would not change overnight or with a single decisive word. However, if he had learned anything in the past six months, it was that change was not entirely impossible.

“Hyung… aren’t you going on vacation?”

Nick, who had been chattering about his family trip to his grandmother’s house in the Loire Valley in central France, which they took every year to match his father’s vacation, asked.

Even though he grumbled about not being able to go to other countries in Europe like his friends, he seemed excited about the once-a-year trip. He seemed to have completely forgotten, for now, that he had become an Omega and would have to take suppressants differently to enjoy the trip.

“A friend is coming from Korea instead.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah. So I’m going to pick them up at the airport tomorrow.”

“They must be… a very close friend. To come all the way here.”

Nick asked, his gaze somewhat cautious, as if testing the waters. Lee Hyun nodded towards Nick. Nick’s eyes, which had forgotten his despair and pessimism about life just ten minutes ago, sparkled with curiosity.

Perhaps, as Bobo had said, Nick only needed time and attention, and he might eventually adapt and be able to accept himself healthily. In any case, Bobo had experienced such situations far more than he had, so they had no choice but to trust his words and move the child by each of them steadfastly guarding their own truth in their own place.

By the time Lee Hyun parted ways with Nick and arrived at ‘The Hands’, his back was drenched in sweat. Even though the temperature was lower than in Korea, the clear, cloudless weather made the sunlight strong. Hurrying to get to his room, shower, and drink a cold can of beer, he was waved at by a long-haired man coming out of ‘The Hands’ building.

“Lee Hyun.”

“Ben.”

“Look at you sweating.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot today.”

Lee Hyun said, wiping sweat from under his chin with the back of his hand.

“The apartment is a furnace too. I was thinking of going to a cafe instead.”

“It’s just as hot there.”

“At least you can see beautiful men and women there.”

Ben muttered as if stating an obvious truth everyone would agree with. Ben simply liked appreciating beautiful people as subjects and did not hide his aesthetic preferences or hobbies.

“Want to come with me?”

Lee Hyun smiled and shook his head at Ben’s question. On days when the ‘Late Blooming’ group met, he had work plans from afternoon until evening.

Contrary to Ben’s remark about it being a furnace, the moment he entered the lobby, he felt his breath catch in the cool, chilled air. Even if the lower floors were cool, the studios upstairs were bound to be heated up.

Peeking inside the open door, he saw there seemed to be quite a few visitors on a Sunday. As he was about to go up to his room quietly, a familiar voice called him from behind.

“Lee Hyun-ssi, there was a package for you.”

Yuni, with a playful expression, waved while holding a small parcel tucked under her left arm. She must have followed him after seeing him returning home from the office. Lee Hyun smiled and stepped off the stairs.

“It came on Friday, but Pierre forgot to leave a message to give it to you when he left for vacation.”

The box she handed him was a small paper box, less than two spans in height. It wasn’t very heavy.

“It looks like it’s from America. Do you know anyone in America?”

Lee Hyun looked down at the box and checked the sender. The neatness and warmth were evident even in the handwriting.

Marcus Dunham. It was Marcus.

■ ■ ■

It took over 40 minutes by car from the resort in Jimbaran to Double Six Beach. The straight-line distance was not that far, but the road closest to the beach was too narrow for cars, so they had to use winding inland roads.

Rau parked the car in front of a cafe building with exposed brick walls decorated with vines and entered the beach, passing a line of parked motorcycles.

He habitually took out the sunglasses clipped to his left pocket and started walking further north.

The beach bars had occupied half the beach with beanbags, parasols, and brightly painted tables lined up on the sand. Double Six Beach is famous among Bali’s many beaches for its particularly beautiful sunsets. Although there were still more than two hours left before the main sunset, people who wanted good seats were already ordering cocktails and leisurely waiting for the sun to set.

Morae and Lee Han.

Both of them worked as full-time instructors at a large surfing school. They had a tightly scheduled day from the morning session until evening, and after the lessons, they had to monitor the students’ posture with recorded videos and provide additional guidance. In exchange for accommodation and meals provided by the company, their job also extended to mingling with students and guests to create a fun atmosphere as staff members of the school. From what they had researched, it didn’t seem like a life of leisurely surfing and relaxing in a resort paradise.

They could have worked as part-time instructors or done other jobs that allowed more time, but that level of income would only barely cover their immediate living expenses.

Looking at the amount of money the two of them sent to Rau through Lee Hyun every month, they seemed determined to work hard for one to two years to pay off their 100 million debt even a little faster.

Rau arrived at the beach bar operated by the surfing school they belonged to and took a seat on a pair of beach chairs placed side-by-side in front of a wooden building built in traditional Balinese style. An employee wearing a white pique polo shirt and shorts immediately approached and handed him a menu. Rau, who requested a bottle of his favorite brand of beer and an ashtray, took out a cigarette.

While waiting for the beer, he held the filter between his lips without lighting it and looked at the sea. The waves were calm. They rolled in from the distant sea at a uniform height and disappeared, sloshing into the sand.

Watching them, his urge to smoke also subsided. Rau dropped the unlit cigarette into the ashtray and took a refreshingly cold sip of beer, his eyes following the movements of the surfers on the sea.

His comfortable, wide-legged linen pants fluttered in the sea breeze, and sand got between his leather sandals on the ground. The heat and languid haze peculiar to the resort seemed to loosen his inner self, which had felt like it had been stuck in a harsh winter for the past year.

He leaned all the way back in the chair, pulled his legs up onto the chair, and stretched them out long. Crossing his ankles and clasping his hands behind his head, his eyes closed on their own.

He didn’t know why he had decided to travel here.

Although he had experienced Bali three or four times before, he couldn’t think of anywhere else when he decided on a two-week vacation.

Perhaps he wanted to personally check on the well-being of the two in Lee Hyun’s stead. Or perhaps, by indirectly contacting people who knew a past Lee Hyun that he didn’t know, he wanted to gain some faint comfort of being connected to Lee Hyun.

In any case, since they didn’t know his face, it wouldn’t hurt to confirm they were doing well. Just in case… in case the day came when he could tell Lee Hyun.

Among the beginner surfers repeatedly standing up and falling on their boards with the help of an instructor in the shallow sea not far from the beach, one surfer catching a wave caught his eye.

Although not showing flashy techniques due to the calm waves, his movement in a smooth curve particularly drew attention. It was as if the waves were gently carrying him to the shore, a natural flow that was hard to believe he was on the water. Above all, even though his expression was completely invisible from a distance, the fact that he was enjoying this moment on the sea was conveyed through his whole body. Rau was certain it was Morae.

Like himself now, Rau couldn’t help but think of a younger Lee Hyun, who might have been sitting alone on the beach, watching Morae and Lee Han surf freely.

Even though it was the past, he wished for the darkness of the deep sea and the solitude, as if submerged in silence, that the young him must have felt at the time, to transfer directly into his own heart. Just as he wished for his presence in Lee Hyun’s future, he felt the same about his past. He had wished to share even one of his many sleepless nights, tossing and turning, as his own. Even at this moment, the longing remained unchanged.

She, walking out of the sea, resembled the endless sea touching the sand more than her own name. Although he had seen her face in pictures, he hadn’t expected to recognize her at a glance, even in a wetsuit with her hair soaked.

It seemed she had just finished a lesson and, at the request of her students, demonstrated one last time. After coming ashore, she had a brief conversation with two or three other Koreans waiting and then slowly led them towards the bar.

Rau, who had been following her movements from behind his sunglasses, felt as if she was recognizing him and smiling as the group got closer. It was clearly a delusion, as even if she recognized him, she wouldn’t have a happy expression like meeting an old friend unexpectedly.

But perhaps it wasn’t a delusion, as she stopped right in front of Rau’s beach chair, where he was reaching for his beer bottle.

“Oh? Rabbit-ssi!”

“……”

Rau furrowed his brow from behind his sunglasses. He couldn’t tell if he had heard her correctly or what she was trying to explain. She seemed to try to say something, then shook her head and gestured for Rau to follow her.

Inside the bar, decorated with plush sofas and oriental cushions, giving it an exotic feel, she wiped her tanned face, beaded with water, and grinned, pointing to the wall.

“……”

Among torn magazine scraps, world maps, and Polaroid photos of smiling people who seemed to be guests, several of Lee Hyun’s drawings were mixed in.

They were sketches on paper, smaller than A4, likely torn from a spiral notebook, drawn casually with a ballpoint pen, but they were unmistakably Lee Hyun’s drawings.

Next to a drawing clearly of Yuni and Joo-han, was a picture of himself with large rabbit ears, looking at a pocket watch hanging from his vest.

He had flown all the way here to alleviate his longing for her, but not like this. He was completely unprepared to encounter traces of him in such an unexpected place.

The woman beside him tilted her head and said, looking at the drawing, “You can’t help but recognize them, right? Lee Hyun really is talented.”

He could feel what it meant for emotions to wash over him like waves. His nearly year-long patience crumbled, and he felt like he was returning to the moment he watched the rain-poured sea with Lee Hyun. In fact, he wanted to remind Lee Hyun of the love for himself that remained within him, even if it meant selling his past to stir his pity, to beg him not to leave.

Feeling the cold sea air emanating from her, Rau covered his eyes.

■ ■ ■

It was the third day since arriving here, and I had my first meeting with Josef Russ.

Josef had a gentle demeanor, and fortunately, unlike most people I deal with for this matter, he didn’t resent me for being in a situation where he had to become an Omega.

It was unclear whether it was an Austrian custom or a tradition unique to the Roos family, but Josef’s Omega attendant remained by his side throughout the meeting, providing service. Alpha-Omega attendants were usually married off to lower-ranking nobles or merchants for a substantial sum. It was peculiar that a family aiming to solidify their status by transforming their son into an Omega to marry an Alpha would keep an Omega attendant as a personal servant. Even more unusual was exposing an Omega servant, who would unguardedly release pheromones, to an Alpha guest.

Josef’s Alpha friend came over, and the three of us had tea in the afternoon. The Alpha who visited today was the one Josef intended to propose to if this matter was successfully concluded. Of course, he had no idea why I was staying at Josef’s house. He only knew me as a ‘distinguished’ young noble visiting from England and treated me kindly. I wondered if he would still be willing to share a table with me if he knew my true identity. The thought alone was amusing.

If Josef were to become an Omega, he would naturally consider Josef a manifesting Omega and accept the proposal. It was not a matter that could be resolved by my guilt.

What was strange was that although Erich had been attending to me the whole time today, it seemed I couldn’t sense Erich’s pheromones at all. If I had detected them, the two of us would have reacted to each other’s pheromones immediately. It was an impossible situation.

At my request, Erich bought some Swiss chocolate for me from the market. It was one of the few delicacies I occasionally craved.

I hadn’t expected him to find it, but it seemed it wasn’t difficult for him, who knew the market conditions inside and out.

We shared the chocolate and talked during Erich’s short break.

Erich envied my extensive travels and asked me to tell him stories about other countries whenever I had the chance. However, all I could offer were amusing anecdotes about the arrogant nobles I had met or embarrassing cultural misunderstandings from my travels, as I merely moved from noble estates to wealthy merchants’ villas and back to other noble estates. Erich listened to even these stories as if they were incredibly fascinating.

At those times, Erich’s pheromones were as gentle as a May rose bathed in sunlight, stimulating me to the point where I would let out a sweet sigh. It was a dizzying, intoxicating scent I had never experienced with any other pheromones before.

Erich.

I had already been intimate with Josef seven times.

A Beta’s body, unable to relax elastically to an Alpha’s knotting, could not sustain intimacy at such short intervals. It usually took several months for a complete transformation into an Omega.

Honestly, he was an easier ‘client’ than anyone I had been with before, as we had agreed to minimize unnecessary contact and conclude things as efficiently and quickly as possible…

Yet, this time was the most painful for me. More so than in the early stages of this ‘business,’ when I had suffered bouts of vomiting and shock, and even attempted suicide, unable to block the windows of my emotions and trap myself within.

It was not because of Josef, my work partner, but because of Erich.

I could not close the windows of my emotions, nor could I prevent the abundant light and fierce wind and rain from penetrating the depths of this desolate ruin.

Who did I think of every time I entered Josef? And who did I think of afterward, sinking into guilt and sorrow? The true pain of sleeping with someone you don’t love is something you can’t clearly understand until you fall in love with someone.

Erich’s solicitous care, as he pitied my temporary blurred vision, was the dreamlike reward I received after completing the task with Josef.

While the duration and intensity varied each time, it generally involved my vision becoming hazy for several hours, with the edges of all objects blurring. It wasn’t so severe that it hindered my daily life or movement.

However, perhaps due to the visual impairment or my eyes becoming clouded like the ashes left in the fireplace, or like a ghost as people called me, Erich took the situation more seriously than it was and always showed me extreme concern.

His kind sympathy and gentleness felt good, and wanting more of his attention, I would deliberately bump my thigh against the corner of the bed and lean more heavily on him as he supported me, feigning weakness and exaggeration… I hope he forgives my pathetic acting.

Listening to his stories of longing for adventure and travel, I gazed into his shining eyes, and received genuine comfort for my ghost-like life, lived by transforming many Betas into Omegas as part of the ‘business’ to revive my family. And those moments were the most human and fulfilling happiness I had ever known…

I wanted to tell him that my pheromones, flowing through my body, demanded that I live as your Alpha, not Josef’s, not anyone else’s.

Erich was a Beta.

Or rather, I wasn’t sure if he could even be called a Beta, given that he possessed pheromones. Regardless, what was clear was that he had never experienced a heat cycle before, and even when in the same space as Josef’s friends or other Alphas who frequented the mansion, he had never detected their pheromones, nor had they ever recognized him as an Omega. I was completely aroused now.

This evening, Erich was slapped and insulted by his master.

It wasn’t because he had done anything particularly wrong; his master was simply taking out his frustration.

Josef’s father, one of the factions that strongly advocated for preventing Denmark’s attempt to annex Schleswig and Holstein by jointly deploying troops with Prussia, had wielded significant influence in Austria just a few months prior, earning the Emperor’s trust.

He then joined the faction arguing for war against Prussia, which had broken the Gastein Convention. It was almost certain that if this war ended in victory, he would be elected to an agency directly under the Emperor to lead unification efforts.

However, rumors suggested that the situation was not unfolding favorably for Austria.

The master of the Roos family was often away, engrossed in devising strategies with his colleagues. Even on the days he returned, the atmosphere was grim.

When I first arrived here, he used to invite me to dinner or concerts with proper etiquette, even though I was sold as a ‘stud.’ But these days, when I went to greet him upon his return, he would merely glance at me with a look of contempt, as if I were a disgusting, deformed monster.

The entire mansion was frozen in tension on the days he returned, as one never knew when or for what reason he might find fault. Today’s scapegoat was Erich, for not keeping Josef’s attire neat.

I wasn’t present at the time, but news within the mansion spread quickly, reaching every corner in less than thirty minutes.

Erich, who had been attending to my sleeping arrangements with his usual cheerful demeanor as if nothing had happened, eventually shed tears.

I felt such self-loathing for feeling a flicker of joy at the thought that he was relying on me enough to reveal his vulnerability in front of me, that his tears tore at my heart to the point where even my joy felt like a sin.

Meeting a kind young master like Josef was certainly fortunate, but Erich confessed that his life, where he could decide nothing on his own, couldn’t leave the city, and had to remain silent even when treated unfairly, felt hopeless and bleak. He said he felt like dust.

He wondered if anyone would even remember his name in the future, being such common dust. Erich, unrelated to today’s events, shared his lifelong sentiments that he had buried deep in his heart.

I could embrace his shoulders and wipe away his tears, but I could say nothing.

Only one person. A Beta with pheromones that only I could sense.

You, with a unique composition that overlaps with no other being, are, at least to me, a being beyond the world’s distinctions of Alpha, Omega, or Beta, rendering them all meaningless.

I couldn’t tell Erich.

■ ■ ■

Lee Hyun straightened his back and slowly turned towards the window.

Although it was nearing evening, the sky outside remained as blue as midday. Yet, whether it was my imagination or the angle of the setting sun, the interior seemed to be cast in shadow, regardless of the scene outside.

Lee Hyun placed the stack of papers in his hand down and got up from the bed. He walked to the small sink in the corner, directly opposite the bed across the door, and poured himself a glass of tap water. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he began to wash his face.

Even after splashing cold water on his face multiple times, a sense of reality was slow to return. Everything before my eyes felt familiar yet strange, like someone who had been held captive for a long time and had finally returned home.

Without even bothering to wipe the water from his face, he stumbled backward like a dazed person and leaned against the sink. The contents he had taken out of the box he had eagerly opened upon returning to his room were scattered haphazardly on the bed.

What Marcus had sent was a long, handwritten letter, a diary in the most worn condition Lee Hyun had ever seen, and a bundle of typed pages transcribing the diary’s contents, which were partially smudged or moldy and difficult to read.

Although nearly half the pages remained, I didn’t have the courage to read any further.

Lee Hyun swallowed dryly and slowly ran his hands over his wet face. As Ben had said, the room was stifling, but goosebumps prickled his skin. The surroundings were strangely silent. The entire room felt submerged in water, blocking out the familiar ambient noises that were usually always present.

As if relieved to have something to do, Lee Hyun suddenly walked to the desk by the window and took out cigarettes and a lighter from a drawer. They were the same brand Rau smoked. About half of the cigarettes, bought at the start of spring, remained. They tasted dry and stale, but smoking wasn’t for enjoyment anyway.

Knowing he was watching did not alleviate the pain of longing.

His colleagues at ‘The Hands’ would jokingly admire his disciplined routine, working early, dividing his tasks into morning and afternoon sessions, studying English and French, and occasionally helping with office chores, calling him like a monk unfazed by worldly troubles. But the reality was different.

I was not okay, nor was I at peace.

“When you’re struggling, mentally or physically, it’s best to maintain your usual pattern as much as possible.”

I had merely endured the pain by not breaking my usual pattern and maintaining the same appearance. To prevent the dark creatures within us from finding an opening.

The reason Nicholas couldn’t tell his father he had manifested as an Omega. The reason the diary’s owner couldn’t readily speak about the pheromones he felt for Erich. And the reason Rau couldn’t reveal his true identity. All of them, though slightly different in form, shared the same underlying cause.

I now understood that my own passivity or indifference, though I didn’t view Alphas and Omegas with contempt, and didn’t seek to understand them as fellow members of society, was also a form of Beta-centric thinking.

Lee Hyun leaned against the open window and slowly exhaled, his breath trembling slightly. Before he could even take three puffs, tears streamed down his cheeks. But he didn’t try to hold them back.

I had held back for too long. I wanted to say I missed him, that I still loved him, that I wanted to abandon everything here and return to Seoul to hold him. I wanted to feel his lips biting down hard on my lower lip.

I wanted him inside me, wanted to feel the sensation of knotting, and wanted to see him groan with pleasure as an Alpha because of me.

The reason I desired him so intensely wasn’t solely due to Erich’s pheromones, which only the diary’s owner could feel, or my pheromones, which only Rau had sensed. The accumulated understanding and connection I shared with Rau couldn’t be mere pheromonal manipulation.

However, my own passionate and bold behavior during intimacy with him, which felt bewilderingly unfamiliar, was not solely due to my emotional love for him.

Leaning his head against the window frame, Lee Hyun let his hands drop, forgetting to smoke, and thought of him without any restraint, denial, or diminishment.

If Changing was Rau’s greed, his mistake, and his clear sin, then his silence, when he could have lessened the weight of his sin by mentioning the existence of his pheromones, could not be dismissed as anything other than love.

His love, which aimed to allow me to choose my future without being bound by any guilt or responsibility, was also not an influence of pheromones.

It was fortunate that he did not call my love false when I could only say ‘I love you,’ and that I did not deny his love, which I had clearly felt through the tremors of my skin and my inner self.

A gentle sobbing, like catching one’s breath at the end of a long climb, continued for a long time.

Although it was nearing 9 PM, the Parisian sky was still a bright blue.

■ ■ ■

Rau stepped out of the taxi, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, and exhaled a long breath. The sight of Phantom, appearing and disappearing with his breath, was unfamiliar.

The narrow parking lot in front of the building was packed with trucks carrying demolition equipment and already removed waste. Unlike usual, the main gate was wide open, revealing the bustling interior.

A worker carrying a detached door on his back glanced curiously at the tall, exotic, and strikingly handsome man, a rare sight. After dropping the lumber he carried onto the truck bed, he quickly disappeared back inside.

Rau slowly followed the worker into Phantom.

Large, yellow sacks commonly used at construction sites were piled up, full, in one corner of the entrance, and fragments of torn plywood and broken tiles littered the floor. The first floor had already had most of its partition walls removed, so even from the entrance, most of the space was visible. Manager Han and Joo-han were standing by the former exhibition space, talking seriously with the director of the renovation office.

Rau hesitated to walk further inside, lingering near the entrance. The feeling was slightly different from when the building was purchased and remodeled to expand Phantom.

Joo-han, spotting Rau, approached and handed him a mask. Come to think of it, within five minutes of entering the main gate, white dust had settled on the front of his coat.

“What brings you here?”

“I had to come out on the first day of commencement.”

Rau hooked the mask’s ear loops and looked around the chaotic interior.

“It’s a mess, isn’t it? It looked exactly like this until dawn. The past seems like a lie.”

Joo-han, perhaps feeling something unusual himself, spoke with a complex tone from behind his mask. Rau smiled silently and nodded, but to him, it felt less like a mess and more like a ruin.

Even though he knew this demolition was part of a renovation, a bitter taste rose from beneath his chest, as if witnessing the final moments of something losing its value and being dismantled after everything was over.

Looking up at the chandelier being carefully lowered from the ceiling, Rau, with his hands in his coat pockets, nudged Joo-han’s shoulder.

“You got the renovation done exactly as you wanted, so don’t think about running off somewhere else.”

“If you hadn’t thought it was a good idea, you never would have said yes. Why are you acting like it’s because of me? I only asked to build a small cafe in one corner. You’re the one who made such a big deal out of it by deciding to do a full remodel while you were at it.”

As Joo-han stepped back with a serious expression, Rau laughed through his nose and put his arm around his shoulder.

“If you make a big fuss, you won’t have second thoughts because of the responsibility.”

“You being clingy, Representative, is really strange.”

Rau laughed as he pulled Joo-han into the room that had been used as an office.

The office, where staff had been tidying until midnight, was already completely demolished, revealing the ceiling and walls in their original state. Rau approached the open window, lowered his mask to rest under his chin, and rummaged through his pocket for a cigarette.

“Come to think of it, I was always a bit strange.”

His own behavior, unable to stop Changing even knowing that ruin awaited at the end, felt strange, like someone intent on self-destruction. His life had been about control and regulation up until then.

But no human could perfectly control themselves. Not even a Golden Alpha who could regulate their Pheromones to the point of being close to a Beta.

“It gets strange when what should be there isn’t in its place.”

“…….”

Rau, who had bent over, resting his elbows on the windowsill, paused as he brought the lighter’s flame to the tip of his cigarette. In that instant, unable to hide his surprise, he turned to look at Joo-han. Joo-han, his mask pulled down, was staring at Rau with a serious gaze.

“Go and take it back.”

Rau chuckled at Joo-han’s typical, raw expression of desire, then turned back and lit his cigarette. After taking the first drag, he exhaled a long plume of smoke and muttered,

“It wasn’t taken.”

“Haven’t you seen the paintings Lee Hyun has been drawing lately?”

“…….”

“‘Colorful Ghosts,’ what do you think that all means.”

Since around autumn, Lee Hyun had been releasing a series of works titled . The paintings, depicting various individuals in his style, were a series that exaggerated each subject’s characteristics (whether strengths or weaknesses) and visualized each model’s story, filling the backgrounds. The reception in Paris was sharply divided, creating a polarized atmosphere.

Joo-han did not know that Rau was a Ghost. Therefore, he was speculating based on the simple reason that the title of the series, ‘Colorful Ghosts,’ was similar in meaning to Phantom. He interpreted it as a message from Lee Hyun that he still had lingering feelings for Phantom.

But Rau’s thoughts were different. It wasn’t that simple.

Moreover, he was not the type of person who, after making up his mind, would wait for someone else to notice and act. At least, not anymore.

“You don’t have to come out, so why did you?”

At the voice from the entrance, Rau and Joo-han turned around simultaneously. Manager Han was entering the office, its door ripped off. It seemed his conversation with the director was over.

Joo-han glanced at Rau one more time, readjusted his mask, and disappeared out of the office, as if exchanging places with Manager Han.

“Why’s that guy pouting like that? He was excited about the construction starting this morning.”

Rau shrugged his shoulders at Manager Han, who was looking back at Joo-han’s retreating figure with a puzzled expression.

Manager Han, who had come to stand beside him, leaned against the wall, tossing a file related to the construction overview onto the windowsill.

“The electrical wiring is more tangled than we thought, making it a bit tricky, but the demolition seems to be proceeding on schedule. CEO Ryu probably won’t need to come in for about a week.”

Rau, gripping his stubbed cigarette more firmly, turned to her.

“Is this a plan to gradually exclude me from management?”

“I’m giving you a vacation.”

“…….”

“Of course, you’ll need to do site inspections now and then, but still, a few months off like this is a rare opportunity. Once we reopen, I plan to work you hard for a while. So, rest. Do what you want… go wherever you want to go. Don’t spend twenty-five hours round-trip on a plane every weekend.”

What she wanted him to do, where she wanted him to go, and where he had been going on weekends – her words, as if she knew everything, left Rau unable to feign ignorance. He managed an awkward smile, pulling up the corners of his lips, and extinguished the cigarette by rubbing the tip with his hand.

He tossed the butt and his mask into a trash bag and stepped out of The Hands, hands shoved into his coat pockets. The northwest wind, blowing over Bukhansan, made him hunch his shoulders. It was the second winter since Lee Hyun had left. Just as he didn’t know the twenty-three-year-old Seo Yi-hyun, the winter version of Lee Hyun was also an unknown territory for Rau.

Under a sky that had lowered itself as if about to snow, Rau began walking down the slope. He imagined Lee Hyun walking this path with him, wrapped in a scarf, exhaling white breath.

■ ■ ■

Lee Hyun brought two mugs filled with freshly brewed coffee to the dining table and placed one in front of Jun.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“It’s too little in return for the Bourguignon you made me. I enjoyed it.”

“I just made an extra serving since I was making mine. I’m grateful you ate it with me. It’s not as tasty eaten alone.”

He knew Jun’s consideration in adding a spicy flavor to match his taste, and he was grateful, but he also knew Jun would be more embarrassed if he expressed it. Lee Hyun conveyed his gratitude with a quiet smile.

The building was quiet, the exhibition hall having closed and the office staff having left for the day. Only occasional peaceful, everyday sounds could be heard, such as someone using water in the bathroom, the soft sound of footsteps on stairs, and doors opening and closing.

“Hyung… you seem fearless in revealing yourself in your work.”

“…….”

Jun, who had been holding his mug with both hands and gazing down at the table, suddenly spoke.

“When I look at it… I feel like my existence is being embraced. It’s a little easier to be honest with someone who first reveals themselves honestly.”

Jun, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed by his own words, was met with a smile from Lee Hyun.

“They said you failed to gain empathy because it contained excessively personal content?”

“If I failed to gain empathy, would it sell as soon as it was hung in the exhibition hall and draw so many visitors?”

Jun shook his head firmly.

“You can’t please everyone anyway… being able to secure people who understand my work and find solace in it is enough in itself. It’s wonderful.”

Watching Jun speak with a hint of envy, his gaze lowered, Lee Hyun silently drank his coffee for a moment.

He knew well that Jun had been struggling for a breakthrough in his work for a long time, making it difficult for him to speak rashly. He himself had gone through such periods and, as someone who moved his brush while battling uncertainty every moment, he empathized deeply with Jun’s struggles.

But precisely because of that, he also wanted to summon the courage to share his honest thoughts rather than remain silent because it was a difficult problem.

“There are probably more universal stories that more people can empathize with. I don’t know for sure, but perhaps those are more magnificent and valuable paintings. However… I just… I try my best to paint the pictures that I can paint now, the ones I must paint now. Anything beyond that is beyond my current capabilities, so I focus only on what I can do.”

Meeting Jun’s serious gaze, Lee Hyun cautiously added the story he had hesitated to tell, wondering if he was talking too much. He felt he had to confess to Jun that he wasn’t a warrior fighting anxiety solely on his own.

“Scars are also part of one’s individuality… someone told me that I don’t have to cover them up or try to overcome them cleanly like a hero. Because of that, I too was able to find the courage… to show myself.”

Jun, with an expression that suggested he knew who had said that, looked at Lee Hyun with slightly challenging eyes the next moment.

“Why doesn’t your boyfriend… ever come to see you?”

“It’s because… I don’t let him.”

Lee Hyun smiled faintly, stroking the rim of his mug.

“Why. Don’t you want to see him?”

It was the first time in a little over a year that he had been asked such a direct question. People who knew both Lee Hyun and Rau hadn’t deliberately avoided talking about Rau in front of Lee Hyun, but they also hadn’t actively tried to convey his current situation. Especially regarding the private relationship between Lee Hyun and Rau, they made no mention, as if nothing had happened. The Rau they heard about from their lips was merely the CEO of The Hands, a Rau connected individually to each of them.

Although he felt a little sorry for Jun, when Jun indirectly asked about his boyfriend, he could faintly feel that his love and relationship with Rau were still ongoing, that he was still his ‘boyfriend.’

After being asked if he didn’t want to see him, a longing, as if it were a signal, wavered precariously at the edge of his heart. Like a child whose eyes well up with tears when met with kindness asking if they’re okay, even after bravely dusting themselves off from a fall.

So, he couldn’t answer readily. He responded with an ambiguous smile and by drinking his coffee.

He tried to smile, but to Jun, it might have seemed worse than crying. Jun, regretting his question, quickly changed the subject, deliberately raising his voice.

“Do you have plans for Christmas? Are you going out with Yooni Noona?”

Lee Hyun smiled, stroking the surface of his mug, and shook his head. Although they sometimes ate or drank together as a trio even now, Michelle and Yooni were now an official couple who could naturally go on dates without needing to include Lee Hyun.

“Then… you’ll probably attend the ‘The Hands’ party again like last year?”

“Mm, unless something unexpected happens, probably.”

‘Late Blooming’ was also preparing for a small party, but that was a few days before Christmas. The party held by ‘The Hands’ on Christmas Eve was an official event inviting patrons, clients, and gallery friends who frequently visited the exhibition hall but couldn’t purchase art. All affiliated artists were strongly encouraged to attend unless they had special plans.

“What about New Year’s? You saw the Arc de Triomphe New Year’s countdown last year… Are you perhaps interested in a private party? It’s not grand, just a ticket sold at a bar. A friend of mine works there. It’s on the second floor near the Eiffel Tower, so the atmosphere should be good.”

“Uh… perhaps I might have other plans then.”

“Is that so? Then I can’t help it. Ben seems to be slacking off lately, so I’ll ask Ben to go with me.”

Jun, though clearly curious about what these vague plans might be, drank his coffee in silence and didn’t ask further.

But Lee Hyun couldn’t say anything more.

He had sent a message, but he wasn’t a free person. Even if he received the painting, his situation might not allow him to rush over immediately, or perhaps… perhaps he was too exhausted now, and Lee Hyun’s message might not evoke any emotion in him.

He had faith that the latter wasn’t true, but he couldn’t shake off a two percent anxiety.

“Are you bothering Lee Hyun again?”

The door to the kitchen and dining area burst open. It was Ben. Rubbing Jun’s chin roughly as he passed behind him, Ben acted like a mischievous older brother teasing his youngest sibling. Seeing Jun push his hand away in annoyance, Lee Hyun said with a smile,

“I made Jun dinner.”

Ben, pouring the remaining coffee from the machine into his mug, glanced over.

“Beef Bourguignon?”

Did he recognize it by smell? Lee Hyun nodded with a slightly surprised expression. Ben chuckled as if he knew, leaned against the shelf, and brought the mug to his lips.

“So that’s what you were practicing for, making it for him.”

“Ah, Ben!”

Jun, his face flushed red up to his neck, turned to Ben and snapped angrily. Ben, seemingly unbothered, walked over to the table with his mug and ruffled Jun’s hair.

“Are you going out somewhere?”

To divert the conversation for the embarrassed Jun, Lee Hyun asked Ben. He had been curious, as Ben was dressed unusually neatly.

“Going for an interview.”

Ben replied nonchalantly, sitting down with one chair between him and Jun.

“An interview…?”

“They were looking for an assistant at a photography studio, so I submitted my resume. They want to interview me at this time, so it seems like a good fit for me, right?”

“Suddenly… why a photography studio?”

Jun asked hesitantly.

“I’ve always been interested in photography. For someone like me, who’s animalistic and impulsive, photography might be a better fit than painting, which requires sitting still and confronting oneself. If I become a fashion photographer, I can take pictures of tons of pretty and handsome people.”

Ben spoke playfully, leaning his arms on the back of his chair and drinking his coffee in his usual swaggering posture.

“Why? You still have a few more months. Or have you decided to leave? Have you talked to Reed?”

“I can’t keep lingering without any results. I have to give opportunities to people with more potential than me.”

Ben said this cleanly, as if it were someone else’s business, while messing up Jun’s hair, then got up, washed his mug, and left the room without lingering, telling Jun to wish him luck.

Jun, who had not been able to definitively break out of his slump, seemed to feel that this situation was not unrelated to him, and became noticeably quieter afterward.

During his more than a year at The Hands, several colleagues had left for failing to show results, and several new people had come to fill their places. Some had left voluntarily, giving up despite having opportunities, while others had signed contracts with major galleries within months and left early.

If the goal was simply to keep painting, then a hobby would suffice. But if one wanted to communicate with the world through their work, a certain level of recognition was required. This was not something that could be achieved by solely focusing on painting alone in a room.

He realized more clearly since coming here what Rau had done for his affiliated artists, why marketing was important, and how meeting a gallery like The Hands was a great fortune for an artist. But the harsh reality was that not everyone could meet a dealer like The Hands or Phantom.

Looking at Jun’s young face, lost in thought, Lee Hyun unconsciously brought the mug to his lips. The cooled coffee tasted even more bitter than when it was warm.

■ ■ ■

The Neo-Byzantine stained glass adorning the dome-shaped ceiling, reaching a height of 33 meters, was intricate and beautiful. The large tree erected beneath it further amplified the splendor, making the department store itself seem like a giant Christmas tree. It felt like being part of a fantasy world, a magical, fairytale-like creation that went beyond mere visual splendor.

It was clearly a commercial ploy to stimulate the already excited emotions of people at the end of the year and encourage them to open their wallets, but the people, all wearing seemingly happy expressions as if in a fabricated reality, seemed ready to willingly fall for the scheme.

Feeling a slight disconnect from the exaggerated atmosphere where everyone seemed prosperous and happy, Lee Hyun hurried towards the location he had checked on the pamphlet.

Cosmetics and perfume stores of the same brand were separated into adjacent booths. Both were bustling with customers. Lee Hyun approached an employee dressed entirely in black and stated the name of the product he was looking for. Since all employees were busy attending to customers, it took over five minutes to seize an opportunity.

The employee immediately led Lee Hyun to the display shelf and picked up a perfume in a sturdy-looking black bottle. Skillfully, she sprayed a small amount of perfume onto a scent strip and handed it to Lee Hyun.

As soon as he smelled it, his heart pounded as if he were standing right beside him. Even knowing it wasn’t his Pheromone, that ‘scent’ he had been so captivated by, the mere fact that it was a part of the scent that emanated from him made his inner self sway violently, as if shaken by something strong.

The employee standing beside him explained the characteristics of the perfume Lee Hyun was currently smelling in rapid French, but it didn’t register.

It was undoubtedly one of the perfumes Rau used to mix. It was the perfume that Yooni had correctly identified on the day they had a barbecue in his garden, saying she could definitely tell one of the mixed scents.

I had wanted to come buy this perfume several times since arriving here, as the phantom scent alone was far from enough. But I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t crumble even if exposed to his actual scent.

Exhausted by the loneliness of being alone, unable to bear the desire to see him, and because of memories of sweet times… For those reasons, I didn’t want to seek each other out again.

If we were to meet again and speak of love, it had to be a decision based on accepting the other’s existence and a full understanding of the changes that situation would bring. Even if we stayed together without those prerequisites, unacknowledged dregs would eventually seep out, leading to repeated resentment and hatred.

That is neither forgiveness nor love. I didn’t want to seek him out again just to fill the emptiness in my sentimental heart and treat my immediate pain.

Lee Hyun, who had sprayed a little perfume on himself as the employee suggested, put the purchased perfume into his backpack and hurried out of the department store. Since arriving in Paris, or perhaps in his entire short life, this was perhaps the most extravagant purchase he had ever made.

Because of the heavy snowfall, the subway was more crowded than usual. The area around the Canal Saint-Martin was in a festive mood.

Carols flowed from every cafe and pub, and people, both adults and children, had gathered around the canal, rolling snow to have snowball fights or build snowmen. Although snow had become more common than before (there had even been a blizzard in April this year), heavy snowfall was still a rare sight in Paris.

On the road in front of ‘The Hands,’ a few kids were gathered, scraping snow piled on parked cars and throwing it at each other. A child, looking about six or seven, wearing a red woolen hat, smiled at Lee Hyun and shouted, “Joyeux Noël!” Christmas was still several days away, but it seemed the heavy snow had made him want to get into the holiday spirit. Lee Hyun smiled back, replied, “Joyeux Noël,” brushed the snow off his coat’s shoulders, and entered the building.

The lobby was already filled with a boisterous noise, and it turned out everyone was gathered in the second-floor living room, drinking beer. Lee Hyun took off his bag and coat and took the seat next to Jun.

“Ben?”

“…Not yet.”

Jun shook his head with a bitter expression. Usually, Ben was the one who organized these gatherings. But after failing his interview, citing insufficient basic knowledge of cameras and the field, Ben had been hard to see for several days.

However, less than ten minutes after Lee Hyun joined, Ben appeared, pleasantly tipsy. He bypassed other empty seats and squeezed himself between the three people sitting on the three-seater sofa, tightening the knot of his already loosely tied tie.

“Ah… I got lucky today! I saw that man again! With the heavy snow falling, I just knew I’d see him today.”

Ben spoke theatrically, as if recounting a fated love story. His attire suggested he had been to an interview somewhere again today. His exaggerated excitement felt like a reaction against his disappointment.

“He went into the alley with the optician’s shops. Maybe I should follow him home next time.”

“Isn’t that stalking?” someone lightly chided, and Ben shrugged as he twisted open a beer cap.

“I have nothing more to lose here, so why not follow him and make a move?”

“You said he lives in this neighborhood. Are you going to keep avoiding him whenever you run into him? It’ll get awkward, so forget confessing,” another person sitting next to Ben said, waving their hand to dissuade him.

“Hey, why are you talking as if I’m guaranteed to be rejected? Huh? Even if that guy is unrealistically handsome, I’m still usable, you know?”

“They say he looks like a combination of the best features of East and West. Is ‘just usable’ enough for a man like that?”

Lee Hyun placed his beer on the table. Ben’s exaggerated talk about handsome men and beautiful women was commonplace at ‘The Hands.’ But the story about the ‘handsome man occasionally seen at the cafe by the canal,’ which he had previously dismissed without much thought, suddenly caught his ear.

“Hey, Ben, perhaps…”

“Hm?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

Lee Hyun shook his head and smiled at Ben, who had turned to look at him while playfully strangling the sculptor next to him.

He concluded it was impossible, but once the suspicion started, he couldn’t shake it off. It wasn’t a difficult task, and there was no harm in checking. Lee Hyun picked up his coat and quietly got up from his seat.

By then, the snowflakes had become much smaller, but it was still snowing.

It had only been about three days since he sent the painting, so it couldn’t have arrived in Seoul yet. Even when he checked that afternoon, it was still in air transit. Even if the painting had arrived, it would take more time to receive it and for it to reach Paris.

Despite thinking so, his steps towards the alley Ben had mentioned grew faster and faster. By the time he passed the optician’s shop and turned the corner of the alley, he was almost running.

“……”

He had expected tears, but laughter came first.

The moment he saw him, just the joy of it, the clumsy heart that he had skillfully suppressed and controlled, unable to pretend otherwise, flowed out as laughter, just like before. It felt like smiling at him not just with his lips, but with his entire body.

He stood in the deserted alley, where the orange streetlights cast a dim glow on the scattering snow, and the man, who was about to light a cigarette, froze like someone encountering a ghost in a dead-end alley, pulling the cigarette from his lips.

“To be undercover… you’re too conspicuous, aren’t you?”

White breath plumed at the end of his breathless exhalation.

“……”

He hesitated, maintaining a distance as if he wanted to flee in his utter shock. Then, he dropped the unlit cigarette he held and approached. Without hesitation, he cupped Lee Hyun’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek. In that touch, Lee Hyun realized he was crying.

He was alive.

The snowflakes slowly settling on his head, the faint, excited clamor drifting from the direction of the canal, his entire figure filling his vision, and the real touch of Lau Wikun on his cheek. Every sense was so acutely vivid that he felt alive.

He had missed him.

More than the time he couldn’t see him, it was in this moment of seeing him that he truly felt the weight of his longing. He had endured the situation by consciously downplaying its severity, even while his whole body ached as if suffering from a severe illness.

He had missed him terribly, but even that “terribly” was less than the actual longing.

With the absurd fear that he might disappear the moment he blinked, he tightly grasped the arm of the man wiping the tears from his cheek.

“Don’t go…”

The words had slipped out before he knew it.

Rau’s hands slowed, then cupped his entire face, and he pressed his forehead against Lee Hyun’s. Then, he nodded.

“I won’t go anywhere until you tell me to.”