The hooded zip-up, pulled tight, suddenly crushed his throat. Grimacing, Ihyeon faltered, turned, and shot the men a sharp glare.
They only snickered as if he were ridiculous.
“Let go.”
He yanked the twisted hood free, and this time his wrist was seized. The man who grabbed it scratched his forehead and cocked a brow.
“Tsk. The boss is inside — if you came, you should at least show your face. Can’t act like this.”
“I’ve got nothing to do here, so let go.”
“Haha, quite the temper.”
The man at the front spat out his cigarette butt and dragged Ihyeon inward. Even while being pulled along he shook his arm, trying to free the hand gripping him, but it was useless.
Just like last time — and this time too — those people seemed used to forcing others along like this. Every time his weak body lurched, his head throbbed, and Ihyeon gave up resisting and bit down hard on his lower lip.
The closer they got to the hall, the louder the murmur grew, as if quite a crowd had gathered. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and laughter and chatter echoed through the two-story-high space.
If I’d known it’d turn out like this, I should’ve just stayed home and lay down.
Frowning, staring at the floor, Ihyeon slowly lifted his eyes. The first thing he saw was the stage hall — a complete mess.
Sofas and tables had been shoved around carelessly, and in the center pizza boxes, beer cans, and bottles of soju and whiskey were strewn everywhere.
Plates and crystal glasses obviously taken from the kitchen. Expensive liquor bottles rolling across the floor. Ihyeon was left speechless. In a place that had to open for business in a few hours, they lounged as if it were their own living room — absurd and ridiculous.
“Boooss!”
Still chewing his lip, Ihyeon was roughly yanked somewhere by the same troublesome man. He staggered toward a sofa in one corner.
“We’ve got an interesting guest here, so I hurried and brought him right over!”
Following the man’s gaze, Ihyeon saw someone sprawled in the seat. His eyes rose to the face — and he flinched, swallowing.
Gu Seunghyeok.
And his face was a wreck, like he’d been beaten by someone.
“Boss, you asleep?”
Despite the call, Seunghyeok kept his eyes closed, dressed in a vivid blue suit. Against the dark wine-colored sofa, the color stood out sharply.
Just as Ihyeon wondered if he was sleeping, the fingers holding a clear whiskey glass moved lazily. Transparent ice clinked and melted.
“……”
His closed eyes slowly opened, revealing black pupils. The moment their gazes met, Ihyeon’s fists clenched.
Was it the softened expression, looser than usual, that made the bruised face feel unfamiliar — or the distant trace of something long past in his sunken eyes?
A bluish bruise marked one temple, and a reddish scab sat at the edge of his lip as if it had split and healed. Over the battered face, memories of the past seemed to overlap faintly.
For no reason, his heart dropped.
“What brings you here at this hour.”
At the languid, muffled voice, the surroundings slowly quieted. Ihyeon felt all the seated men’s attention shift toward him. He clenched his fists and muttered softly.
“I was just going to grab my things from the staff room and leave. You don’t need to worry.”
“Things? What things.”
“Do I have to say?”
At the sharp tone, Seunghyeok smirked and tilted the whiskey glass. Watching the golden liquid slide over the round ice, he twisted his lips lazily.
“You do. How would I know what you’ll take if I just let you go?”
“……”
“What kind of things were you sneaking off with like a rat when no one was around?”
A metallic taste spread — he’d bitten the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Ihyeon didn’t avoid Seunghyeok’s gaze and finally sighed.
“…Shoes and a shirt. Since I’m quitting thanks to someone.”
“That all?”
“Or should I take those internal documents you mentioned back then too?”
“If you want to end up like last week again, go ahead.”
Seunghyeok slowly rotated the whiskey glass in his hand and gave a faint laugh. Then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His protruding Adam’s apple drew the eye.
“……”
The posture — slumped against the sofa — the disheveled clothes, the languid ease as if bantering with a child. Ihyeon’s expression hardened.
He had no desire to argue with him when opening time was close. After staring at Seunghyeok, Ihyeon turned away first. The man beside him still held his arm. Ihyeon shook his wrist free.
“You don’t seem to have anything else to say, so I’ll be going. Enjoy yourselves.”
Whatever happened to business was no longer his concern. If possible, he just wanted to grab his belongings and leave. He gave a crooked nod and moved — but Seunghyeok lifted one leg and blocked his path.
“You came all this way. Have a drink before you go.”
What would happen if I just stepped over that leg?
The drunken nonsense begged to be ignored, but his lackeys filled the place.
Ihyeon stared at Seunghyeok’s thick thigh and bit the inside of his cheek.
“I’m not interested.”
“You should be.”
The long leg dropped back with a thud as Seunghyeok straightened up. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned forward, set the whiskey glass on the table, then pulled something from his jacket and held it out.
“I asked if that was all you were taking.”
In his hand was a familiar wallet design. Seeing it there — when it should have been shoved in the owner’s office corner — brought last week’s events rushing back.
“I was bored anyway. Sit and at least have some pizza.”
“I said I don’t—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Ihyeon.”
His name suddenly called, Ihyeon frowned.
“Sit.”
Watching Seunghyeok, the crew shuffled and made space. A hand pressed his shoulder from behind, forcing him down. An empty glass was set before him and soju filled it to the brim.
As the surrounding men glanced at each other uneasily, Ihyeon stared only at the glass.
“Have fun, boys.”
“……”
“Go on — have fun.”
The awkward silence broke with the click-click of Seunghyeok’s lighter. “We’ve got a guest, so make a toast,” he added, and the hesitant crew began filling their glasses one by one.
Among the people awkwardly trading looks over their drinks, only Seunghyeok and Ihyeon didn’t move.
Ihyeon kept his eyes lowered, staring somewhere ahead, while Seunghyeok exhaled cigarette smoke and watched him. Seeing Ihyeon stubbornly glare into empty space, Seunghyeok let out a breathy laugh.
The crew, holding their glasses, finally started drinking at Seunghyeok’s nod. After one or two rounds, their stiffness loosened.
Thick curses and laughter seeped out here and there.
“Hey, hey. Kangchi — grab another soju bottle.”
“Boss, why soju when there’s good liquor here?”
“You punk’s too young to get it. Soju fits a place like this better, you dumb bastard.”
Amid the rough talk, Ihyeon sat still, staring only at his glass.
He couldn’t see why he had to be sitting here like this. He clenched and released his fist once, about to stand — when someone asked Seunghyeok a question.
“Boss, you close with him? Hahaha — never imagined you’d have a gay friend.”
The drunkenly twisted sentence froze the atmosphere instantly. The man beside the speaker smacked the back of his head, but the one hit only frowned, rubbing it as if wronged.
In the sudden chill, everyone except Ihyeon watched Seunghyeok carefully. Rolling his tongue inside his cheek, Seunghyeok abruptly let out a short laugh.
“Friend?”
“……”
“Him and me?”