* * *
When he stepped into the room, Baek Eun-Seong was sitting on the edge of the bed, awake at some point. But his unsteady appearance made Cha Gil-Do feel frustrated and anxious, so he called out to him.
“Baek Eun-Seong.”
At last those golden eyes turned to him, but they were vacant. As soon as Cha Gil-Do set down the tray, he pressed his palm to Baek Eun-Seong’s forehead.
‘The fever again….’
The fever he had struggled to bring down seemed to be rising once more, and it boiled his insides.
“Are you just dull, or are you stupid.”
He was angry at Baek Eun-Seong’s stoic silence, enduring it even as the fever scorched and wasted his body.
‘Why don’t you say something if you’re sick.’
Should he snap his fingers against his forehead to bring him to his senses? Instead, finding nowhere else to touch, he stretched Baek Eun-Seong’s cheek. Warm, soft skin in his hand—seeing that face pulled and distorted soothed him just a little.
‘I’ll feed him porridge, give him medicine, and put him back to sleep.’
Thinking that, he offered him porridge, but his eating was halfhearted. He had never had much appetite, and with such a fever, of course he would not now. But since he had skipped meals all day, he could not let him go longer on an empty stomach.
What Cha Gil-Do would have finished in three spoonfuls, Baek Eun-Seong picked at endlessly. Even then, he left half untouched, but for some reason he still held the spoon. If he forced more in, he would probably vomit, so Cha Gil-Do said:
“You don’t need to force more. And the counseling session next month, I moved it to Monday… Baek Eun-Seong, are you listening to me?”
Something was wrong. His face had gone pale, his pupils were trembling. Not only that—
“Baek Eun-Seong, why are you sweating like….”
Sweat beaded on his forehead until his bangs clung to it. Even though sweat should mean his temperature was dropping, he looked like he might collapse any moment. That pallid face stirred worry in Cha Gil-Do. He reached to brush back the damp hair from his forehead—
Smack!
Baek Eun-Seong struck his hand away. For a moment, Cha Gil-Do just looked at the hand that had been rejected. He needed a second to understand.
Baek Eun-Seong had knocked it away. As if he did not want his touch. As if he was rejecting him.
At that thought, Cha Gil-Do bit down hard on his trembling lips to suppress the rage that surged. Reason clutched him tight—he must not lash out further. He was holding on when Baek Eun-Seong poured fuel on the fire.
“Go out….”
‘Go out?’
“To take punish—ugh…!”
Before he could hear the rest, Cha Gil-Do clamped his hand over Baek Eun-Seong’s mouth.
‘Go out to take punishment? Who gave you permission.’
He pressed down, covering both mouth and body so he could not slip away. He knew he should not use force, but when given even a little slack, this one only thought of running. He would allow no opening.
“Turn my insides over like that again, just try it.”
At his whisper, Baek Eun-Seong’s body trembled minutely with fear. Afraid he might smother him, Cha Gil-Do slowly withdrew his hand. Then he stroked Baek Eun-Seong’s thin ankle gently, a warning. If he tried to escape, he would tie him down—even if it meant breaking it. But Baek Eun-Seong did not grasp his warning at all.
“Then when can I go out?”
At that question, Cha Gil-Do’s grip on his ankle tightened. Should he snap it right now? Then he would never again harbor such hope.
But if he did, the fever he had barely broken would flare again.
Cha Gil-Do barely held balance between the cruelty of wanting to damage him and the selflessness of not being able to hurt him further.
“I told you—you’ll rot here, even if you die.”
“Why?”
“……”
The question robbed him of words.
Why indeed? Even he did not know the answer.
If he had been an eyesore, he could have thrown him away. Yet why did he not discard the trash, but clutch it in his hands? Not just clutch, but treasure it, lock it in the finest, sturdiest jewel box, to look at it alone.
Why? Cha Gil-Do had no answer.
Baek Eun-Seong’s accusatory question stung.
Baek Eun-Seong, you were the one who said it first.
“…Fuck, you said you’d live with me.”
How dare he say that, then plot to run as if striking him from behind.
Even as he muttered like a sulky child, Cha Gil-Do studied him. Sure enough, tears slipped from his golden eyes, glimmering like dawn.
Tears of resignation—they were painful, yet gratifying.
He wanted him to cry more. Wet sand would not slip through his grasp. With hands heavy with that desire, he brushed over the reddened eyes.
The tears only stopped when Baek Eun-Seong lost consciousness again.
Staring fixedly at him, Cha Gil-Do cupped both his cheeks. Leaning close until their foreheads touched, he murmured against lips barely brushing.
“Crazy….”
The voice of a beast blinded by greed, hoarse with covetousness.
* * *
Cha Gil-Do looked down at his phone. Where before he had relied on his secretary’s reports, now he could watch Baek Eun-Seong’s movements in real time through the cameras installed in the house.
He had confirmed his slight fever broke at dawn, so he expected Baek Eun-Seong to move only in the late afternoon. But strangely, he was up early.
‘Why is he kneeling?’
Upon waking, Baek Eun-Seong sat kneeling on the bed for a long while, then suddenly rose.
“……!”
Cha Gil-Do flinched at the sudden motion, wondering if he had just dozed sitting up. As soon as he left the room, Baek Eun-Seong went straight to the living room windows and opened them. After staring blankly outside, he began rummaging around the living room.
“What on earth is he doing?”
From the way he poked about, he was searching for something. Yet he never went upstairs or to the greenhouse. After a long while, he moved into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, but finding nothing worth eating, closed it again.
‘I should have it stocked.’
The kitchen was more like a showpiece—actual cooking was done in a separate kitchen to avoid food smells. If he had known Baek Eun-Seong would scurry around like a squirrel after acorns, he would have stocked it long ago.
He already ate little, and seeing him fail to find anything made Cha Gil-Do’s chest ache.
While watching the feed, he messaged the staff to prepare food for him. Unaware that the living room was filling with it, Baek Eun-Seong wandered around the kitchen, then trudged back to the living room. Finding him endearing, Cha Gil-Do did not even notice his own lips curling upward as he watched intently.
He was expecting him to discover the food any moment and eat, when—
“…Hey. Mr. Cha Gil-Do! Are you listening to me?”
The woman before him could not hold back and raised her voice at his inattentive staring at the phone. Sharp eyes glared at him: Kang Ji-a. The chess piece chosen to unsettle OUN’s CEO, the joker card.
Kang Ji-a slapped something down on his desk: an invitation and a participant list. On the cover, bold letters read LA Art Show. Tossing back her long hair, she said:
“With this much, I think I’ve proven myself.”
Her name was there among the participants of the LA Art Show, one of the world’s top three art exhibitions. It was an achievement too great to believe for a newcomer. It certainly proved her ability. Yet strangely, Cha Gil-Do felt no impression.
“Fine.”
“…That’s it?”
“What more should I say, do you want praise?”
“You won’t even ask which work will be exhibited?”
With reluctant annoyance, Cha Gil-Do asked:
“What work is it.”
As if bowing down just to receive gratitude.
Though it had been Kang Ji-a who first approached him to separate him from Baek Eun-Seong, he too had accepted because he needed her. Yet his cold indifference grated at her pride, sparking stubbornness.
She placed on his desk the painting she had brought to show him from the start. Though it had been displayed for only a day in her newly opened gallery, it had already earned her a place at the LA Art Show. She wanted to see how he would react.
Peeling away the protective wrapping, she revealed a familiar work. Cha Gil-Do’s eyes widened slightly. As her lips curled in triumph, his own smile came first. Seeing his smile for the first time startled her.
But Cha Gil-Do ignored her surprise. He was amused. The painting she presented was the very one he had seen in the gallery with Baek Eun-Seong.
‘Good eye.’
It had commercial value, but even then it was not to his taste—the square painting Baek Eun-Seong had lingered over. He had recognized its artistic value first.
“Raw ambition.”
“…How did you….”
What had Baek Eun-Seong said, looking at this piece?
“Though it lacks delicacy and refinement, it carries primitive ambition. To some, depending on interpretation, it could be interesting….”
Putting the painting back down, Cha Gil-Do said:
“Not my taste.”