“…Geonho Baek’s birth mother.”
I’ll admit, a little of me was tempted.
“I’m fine. The ones who’ve raised me until now are my adoptive parents.”
I cut him off like a knife.
“I’m not curious. Not at all.”
I had a feeling I’d get dragged into a mess.
It was instinct honed by a second run at life.
“Not at all?”
“Yes. Not at all.”
“I see.”
I packed resolve into each word, and Chairman Baek didn’t press it.
Maybe it was my imagination, but his face looked faintly crestfallen.
Either way, what would change by hearing more about someone who’d already passed…
“And that, I should hear from my adoptive mother.”
At the very least, if anyone told me about my birth mother, the right order was to hear it from the one who told me first—my adoptive mother.
Not that I particularly wanted to hear it.
“Then, Chairman. About the capital recall…”
“Fine! I’ll accept it. Your case had merit.”
At last, it felt like a blockage in my chest cleared.
It helped that he drew back his Pheromones, too.
“Good work.”
Something heavy landed on my head.
I looked up… and saw his hand placed on my hair.
“You’ve got drive, vision, and range. Shame you don’t have much greed.”
…Back to neighborhood grandpa mode?
While I blinked at the unexpectedly familiar gesture, he said:
“In return, we’ll pull it into a subsidiary and hand it to Baekil Entertainment. If Alejandro won’t accept my terms, your effort goes to waste.”
“He won’t refuse.”
If a firm as famed as Baekil—here and worldwide—announced it wouldn’t invest, it would be tantamount to losing global trust. In that situation, rounding up new investors would be brutal.
Maybe that’s when Haram’s fathers, drifting from country to country through that process, suffered an accident they couldn’t avoid. It was only my guess.
“A confident young man isn’t bad. I’ll have them set a meeting starting today.”
“Thank you.”
“But there’s a condition.”
Of course. I didn’t expect this to be free.
“Send Yeonhee’s son to the school I tell you.”
Yeonhee’s son—
Obviously, not me.
“My second daughter had that child with difficulty. I have high hopes. If he’s got Yeonhee’s blood, he can’t be entirely hopeless.”
He studied me, testing.
I thought a moment, then asked, “What sort of place is it?”
“A top school I handpicked.”
“Understood. I’ll talk to Seolheon.”
“…That easily?”
He was clearly waiting for a different reaction, but I had zero intention of doing exactly as he wanted.
“You’re offering my brother a chance to broaden his horizons. I should be thanking you.”
Maybe my easygoing answer surprised him; a brow twitched.
“So the rumors are true—you two are unusually close.”
Rumors?
He knew about Haram, and even about my relationship with Seolheon. His information net wasn’t ordinary. He’d shaken down everything on me, a mere adoptee.
“If we’re done, I’ll head back—”
“One more thing.”
Another? Not short on asks, is he.
I kept my face smooth, and he eased into it.
“When I need it, grant me one favor.”
“At this point, you could just call it an order.”
“Heh, that depends on how you take it. So—is it too hard?”
“…What favor?”
“I’m still choosing. I’ll ask when it’s time.”
So he wanted to size me up.
Unease prickled, but I had no solid grounds to refuse, so I nodded.
“All right.”
“Unlike my grandkids, I like how clear your answers are.”
If I could avoid the tragedy of the boy who was both the novel’s protagonist and my neighbor’s little brother, one old man’s favor was cheap.
How hard could it be, really.
Whatever it was, I’d knock it out fast.
And then my dealings with this old man would be done.
…Or so I thought at the time. I was very, very wrong.
Ten years later.
“Chairman. So, about that favor—when, exactly…?”
“Good grief. I told you I’d think on it, didn’t I? Pour some wine over here.”
“…”
“No, not the red—the white. You’re of age and you still don’t know pairings?”
The snow had blanketed the world and the buds had burst ten times now.
Somehow, I’d become Chairman Baek’s drinking buddy…
Bonus. Branch Point
The night sky is blue. Black, but blue.
Under the rare, modest stars on the black-blue sky, my gaze snagged on a streetlamp blazing white.
A couple of flies and moths hurled themselves at the light—tat-tak, over and over. Their wings were probably singeing, but they kept banging their heads against it.
A child, staring blankly, shifted his eyes when a voice lanced down from above his head.
[I’m sorry, Uheon.]
Despite the words, the tone held a mischievous laugh.
A tall boy nudged the fallen child with his foot to lay him straight.
[Your brother came too late, huh?]
The kid’s whole body was mottled with bruises. Around them lay a torn bag and scattered books.
All of it belonged to the child.
[It hurts…]
[You’re getting punished for doing bad things.]
The boy looked down at him with a fishy smile.
[If you’d done what I told you, you wouldn’t be hurting.]
Then he yanked the child upright and hauled him up like a sack.
There was not a trace of warmth to call it a hug.
[Now do you get it? Try ignoring me and wandering off in your head again and I’ll…]
The child managed to lift his head.
The boy’s gray-white eyes gleamed, rolling.
[You’re not my little brother.]
“Ugh…!”
I shot upright the moment my eyes opened.
Dark. A chill in the air brushed my brow.
The headache and stomachache that had nearly made me faint were gone, but a tender afterimage remained.
A strange memory that surfaced very, very rarely.
What used to come once or twice a year was coming once every three or four months… then twice, three times—the frequency kept rising.
The world I once thought was a dream was becoming sharper, clearer—vivid as reality.
Where am I. Maybe I’m still inside that memory.
No… what if that memory is the real thing.
Before I could steady the turmoil, a voice crawled into my ear and raised goosebumps.
“You okay?”
“…!”
“You were being pressed by a nightmare.”
Right beside me—he was there.
Those gleaming gray eyes were right in front of me.
“…Let go.”
“Seolheon?”
“I said let go!”
I reflexively tore free from the big hand holding mine.
“Get away from me!”
Even so, he caught my hand again and tugged hard.
The chest I’d just been held against in the dream—it was the same.
Gooseflesh raced over me; cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
“Let go!”
“Seolheon Baek!”
Even as I screamed like a sob, he didn’t relent—he only held me tighter.
But that embrace… unlike in the dream, it wasn’t cold or rigid.
“It’s okay now. It’s okay.”
“…”
“Breathe easy. Slowly…”
His arms around me were firm, but…
“Looks like you had a bad dream. Right?”
…they were warm.
They were gentle.
“A dream…”
“You’re drenched in sweat. I was worried, Seolheon.”
Seolheon.
Had he ever called me so warmly in that dream?
More than that—was that even my name?
“Seolheon Baek…”
It came back. That was my name here.
It was the only criterion and marker that separated the “two worlds.” I could barely recall it after a long wandering.
Because of his voice…
“You were really scared, huh?”
“S-scared?”
“I’ll stay with you, so don’t worry.”
His hand smoothed my nape, calm and steady, and at last I could let out a shallow breath.
Oh. Right. I’m back.
Like a dam breaking, my shoulders went slack and my eyes began to mist.
“I w-was scared…”
I was scared.
That dream—I was afraid it would never end.
“I was scared…”
“Yeah. You were scared.”
“Really… scared…”
The cold sensation vanished like a mirage.
This warmth, too—might vanish like a mirage.
Suddenly, I was terrified.
“For our little brother to cry… what kind of dream scared you that badly?”
He carefully wiped my sweat and tears with his fingers and asked.
At the same time, a voice flashed through my head and made me flinch.
[No one likes you.]
[So be grateful to the brother who bothers to look after a cripple like you, Uheon Baek.]
The razor edge of that memory scraped deep in my chest like a scar.
“I don’t… want to say.”
“Right. What’s the point of saying it. Forget that kind of dream right away.”
A playful smile flickered over his face.
Then he scooped me up—with the blanket—and hoisted me.
“Hyung…?”
“Up we go. Tonight, sleep in my room with me!”
Bundled like a roll of mat, I ended up in his room.
He dropped me onto the bed, then lay beside me on a slant and stroked my back.
“If the nightmare comes again, I’ll blow it away.”
“…How?”
“How? Hm… let’s see… Ah—if you start dreaming again, think of it like you’re watching a movie.”
“A movie…”
“Tell yourself it’s a story from another world that has nothing to do with me.”
Tap, tap.
The slow patting felt like a heartbeat.
“Whatever happens in the dream, the real me is sitting somewhere comfy watching it. With popcorn.”
“…”
“Don’t worry. I had nightmares a lot when I was little. Every time, I imagined it like this, and it stopped being scary.”
“You too, hyung…?”
“Yeah. Plus tonight, I’ll be right here all night. What’s there to be scared of.”
His long fingers carefully traced my damp little forehead, wiping every bead of sweat with care.
“When the movie ends, should I make you something tasty?”
“Tasty…?”
“How about French toast? The kind where you dip bread in egg wash, grill it golden, and sprinkle sugar at the end. I made it once when the housekeeper was off—remember?”
“…The bottom was burnt black.”
“W-was it? If you didn’t like it, something else…”
“I like that.”
I slipped a hand from the blanket and carefully pinched his collar.
“Make toast for me.”
“…Got it! I’ll make all you want. I wonder if there’s bread left in the fridge.”
“Don’t burn it.”
“T-this time I won’t.”
At his flustered yelp, the tight set of my mouth finally loosened.
A faint smile spread with each small breath I let out.
A movie… Right. It’s a movie.
It’s no one’s memory, no one’s world—nothing at all.
Just a movie. A boring movie.
So the me in that movie isn’t me.
It’s just an actor playing the role of “Uheon Baek.”
There’s no need for immersion or sympathy for a fictional role.
Just observe.
Watch a stranger’s tragedy that has nothing to do with me, then look forward to the half-burnt toast waiting in the morning.
I don’t know how many nights, how many hundreds of nights I’ll have to sleep for that morning to come…
I’ll wait.
There’s no such thing as a movie that never ends.
“Hyung…”
I called him softly and clung tight to his arm.
Like it was the only lifeline I had.
“Geonho hyung…”
Only then could I fall into an easy sleep.
That night, there were no nightmares.