* * *
“Baek Eun-Seong, get up.”
The next day, Cha Gil-Do pulled at my wrist to wake me up himself. Since I did not want to get up, I let all strength drain from my body and dangled loosely in Cha Gil-Do’s grip.
But Cha Gil-Do was persistent. He shoved his hands under my armpits and hoisted me upright, even though I could not open my eyes. Still, since I did not put any strength into my toes, my body hung limp in his arms.
Cha Gil-Do spoke.
“Baek Eun-Seong, open your eyes.”
“I want to sleep….”
“You said you had counseling this morning. Get a hold of yourself.”
“Just 10 minutes….”
“No, get up, you need to eat breakfast too.”
“5 minutes, just 5 minutes….”
“Five minutes, my foot. That’s why you never put on weight.”
No matter what I did, he always said I was not gaining weight. That had become Cha Gil-Do’s new catchphrase.
He carried me straight to the bathroom and, before I could say I could do it alone, he washed my face like a guardian washing a baby.
All I managed was to weakly flap my arms in resistance.
‘This isn’t it….’
This was not the parasite lifestyle I wanted.
I thought I could just exist as if I were not there and slip away at the right moment…. I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling. As soon as I covered my face with my hands, unable to resist the creeping fatigue, a knock came at the door.
It was the counseling session Cha Gil-Do had mentioned.
The doctor, who had been asking about the weather and my mood, eventually asked me:
“Could you tell me why you haven’t been taking your medication?”
I glanced at Cha Gil-Do, then opened my mouth.
“…Because I didn’t need it.”
“Did you feel treatment was unnecessary?”
“I just couldn’t understand why I had to keep taking psychiatric medicine….”
From the start I had introduced myself as Kim Dong-Yoon, so of course I looked insane…
It was unfair.
I still could not understand how I had become a character in a book, and I was sometimes confused, but being told that meant I was insane and needed medication—this situation felt terribly unfair.
As if he understood my frustration, the doctor said calmly and kindly:
“Mr. Kim Dong-Yoon, you are suffering from depression, a cold of the heart. The cold is severe, so the treatment period was set long. However, counseling in psychiatry is not solely for treatment. Rather than solving something immediately, I would like to help point you toward how you should live as Baek Eun-Seong going forward.”
So, persuaded, I decided to try taking the medication for three months. This time, I promised not to skip doses.
The session ended with a promise to meet again.
I sat blankly on the bed for a while, recalling what the doctor had said.
‘The direction of living as Baek Eun-Seong…?’
That was something I had never thought of.
This place, this world, was like a vividly realistic dream within a novel. Yet I believed I had not escaped the dream because I was afraid of dying.
I had thought Baek Eun-Seong’s life had no future. After all, even without having seen the original novel or drama, I knew his end was miserable. If Cha Gil-Do had not been capricious, I would already be dead and back as Kim Dong-Yoon.
But Cha Gil-Do said I could live. Then at least I would not be killed by the protagonist. The only remaining option was to take my own life, but I did not want to go that far. As I said before, I did not have the courage to endure the terror of death.
I had been complacent.
If Kang Ji-a came here today, I could be kicked out immediately, yet I had vowed to live here until the end of my days without making any plans.
‘Baek Eun-Seong, did he save any money?’
As a scoundrel stripped of inheritance, expecting him to have saved well was absurd. His family did not even visit, so I could not expect financial support.
If my guess was right, Baek Eun-Seong was broke….
‘No wonder his pants were all torn…!’
There was something I had not paid proper attention to because of everything else. When I became Baek Eun-Seong in that alley, I had been wearing pants torn enough to expose my knees.
If I was broke, there was only one support left for me in this place.
Cha Gil-Do.
‘I need to finish a painting quickly.’
For now, the only thing I could do was draw something for Cha Gil-Do. Lately I had only shown him sketches, which seemed to make him angry, so I had to hurry.
If I gave him a painting he liked, maybe he would let me have a room somewhere in this huge, spacious house.
Nervously swallowing, I stepped out of the room.
Cha Gil-Do was sitting on the living room sofa, absorbed in something. It was the first time I saw him wearing glasses. The cooler look suited him very well.
I slowly approached him. He seemed so focused on his papers that he did not notice me sitting beside him. Perhaps because the phone vibration kept buzzing, he glanced at it, then picked it up.
I planned to wait until he finished his call, but instead he muted the phone, flipped it over, and looked at me.
“Bored, are you? Want me to play with you?”
As he took off his glasses, Cha Gil-Do looked at me. It even seemed like he smiled faintly.
‘He looks like he’s in a good mood!’
The man who stayed home from work was gentle. Yesterday, I had whined and gotten rejected. This time, I had to ask politely.
“…Excuse me, sir.”
“Sir?”
His voice came out sharp.
Cha Gil-Do did not like being called (land)lord. He had even threatened to hurt me badly if I called him that again. So I had deliberately changed to “sir,” but this seemed to displease him as well.
“…Then, senior?”
“Why would I be your senior?”
He did not like that either. With our ten-year age gap, it felt improper to call him by name, and I could not call him “mister.” If I said “boss,” he would surely get angry.
That left only one option…. But was it okay for me, the villain, to use this term with the male protagonist?
‘It should be fine.’
He had already let me live, after all.
I did not think long.
“Hyung.”
“…What?”
Ah, he frowned.
“…Hyung-ah?”
“……”
To put it bluntly, Cha Gil-Do did not send me to the sea.
Still stuck before the same blank canvas with no progress, I sighed.
If I could see it just once with my own eyes, I felt I could paint it. But Cha Gil-Do did not allow it. Should I clear up the misunderstanding about dissociative identity disorder?
Or maybe….
“…Should I sneak over the wall?”
I muttered in a tone that lacked any real intent, despite sounding dramatic.
I had not even been kicked out yet, so I had no resolve to walk out just to see the sea. If I ended up sleeping on the beach, I would only get eaten alive by mosquitoes. No, this was not right, I shook my head.
‘If only I could go with Cha Gil-Do.’
But whenever I even mentioned the sea, Cha Gil-Do glared and said no. By now, the only conclusion was that he hated the sea. But why? Did he have trauma? If only I had read the original novel, or at least watched the drama, I might know. As an art student cut off from the world, I had become moss in the clubroom, far behind the trends. This situation was too hard for me.
‘Should I paint something else?’
I knew in my head it would be better to give up the sea and paint something else. But my body, as if divorced from reason, refused to move the brush. With no inspiration, I did not even know what to paint anymore.
So I only piled up sketches. Clearing away unfinished works, I tried to compose myself and lifted the brush.
The image was vivid before me, but the moment the brush touched, it vanished like a mirage. For the first time, I felt alienation in the act of painting.
Driven by an unknown foreboding, I painted aimlessly. Before long, my anxiety and nameless fear showed plainly on the canvas.
A flower blooming riotously on water. The petals, wrung out of me, were bright, but beneath them it turned black, as if ready to rot at any time. From the rough strokes, lumps of black paint dripped down onto the floor.
I must not show this painting to Cha Gil-Do. Somehow, I felt disaster would follow.
I put down the brush and stood up.
To discard the painting, I had to separate the canvas frame and fabric, but I could not wait for the paint to dry.
‘The tack remover should be around here….’
I rummaged for a long while, but could not find it. Strangely, it was always missing when I needed it. Then I spotted a familiar yellow handle.
“Found it.”
Just as I grabbed it.
Rustling noises. Someone had entered the greenhouse.
‘Cha Gil-Do? Wait, Cha Gil-Do?!’
I had not even disposed of the painting yet. If he saw it, I was finished. Survival instinct pushed me toward the sound.
There, I saw a small, delicate back that could not compare to Cha Gil-Do’s. I froze. She had been looking at my painting, but as I approached, she slowly turned her head.
When our eyes met, her face twisted in anguish.
“Baek Eun-Seong, how could you….”
It was the female lead, Kang Ji-a.