What finally made Ihyeon move from where he stood frozen was Taesik approaching from behind. He grabbed Ihyeon’s arm and forced him down onto the sofa beside Seunghyeok. The grip wasn’t strong enough that he couldn’t have resisted—but it was oppressive enough that resistance never even occurred to him.
Once Ihyeon was seated, Seunghyeok slid the cigarette holder between his fingers after taking a long drag and let out a small grunt as he lifted his hips. He bent over the table to pick up the crystal glass sitting near the center. At the suddenly shortened distance, the stench of cigarettes slammed into Ihyeon’s face. Ihyeon stiffened and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.
The glass was set down in front of his knees, and the expensive bottle—one he’d heard was hard to even get your hands on—was tipped without hesitation. Amber liquid poured crudely into the glass with no ice, sloshing heavily. Through the uneven surface of the glass bottle, the reflections of beastlike humans writhing behind the window flickered in and out of view. Ihyeon forced himself to lock his gaze on the glass.
“Drink. It’s expensive.”
With a voice carrying a trace of derision, Seunghyeok nudged the glass forward with the bottom of the bottle. While Ihyeon stared down at the thick golden liquid rocking inside the glass, Seunghyeok lifted his own to his lips.
“Thinking about it, it felt like a waste to just part ways like this after running into you again.”
“……”
“Nothing’s changed. Eight years—no, nine, is it?”
Seunghyeok wiped the liquid clinging to his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a short laugh. Even though the question was clearly aimed at him, Ihyeon didn’t respond, only sat there motionless. Dense lashes veiled his eyes beneath lowered lids. Watching him like that, Seunghyeok let out a mocking snort.
“Still the same. Sitting there with your mouth clamped shut even when someone’s talking to you.”
Seunghyeok tilted his head, idly swirling the whiskey glass in his hand. The clink of ice cut into the heavy silence. Despite the sharp edge in the words, Ihyeon didn’t open his mouth. He only stared somewhere on the table with a slightly weary expression.
Click.
Irritated by the lack of response, Seunghyeok clicked his tongue and turned his gaze beyond the glass wall. Reflected there, layered over the flesh-colored figures tangled together like animals with all shame cast aside, was Ihyeon’s image.
On his blank face, there was no trace of embarrassment or anxiety. Sitting there with his lips pressed together and eyes lowered, he looked utterly out of place—like a lotus blooming in a pit of mud.
An unpleasant irritation began to seep up from somewhere deep in Seunghyeok’s gut. Ihyeon’s posture—back straight, eyes fixed downward—felt like a silent line being drawn, as if saying, I’m not like you. Seunghyeok twisted his mouth coldly.
Would he look this way if I threw something and smashed it?
He swallowed the boiling impulse and scratched around his brow with his fingers.
Click.
When he made the sound again, like calling a dog, Ihyeon’s lowered head finally lifted. Seunghyeok forced one corner of his mouth up and tilted his head crookedly.
“Ihyeon…. When someone talks to you, you’re supposed to answer.”
“……”
“Hm?”
Even under the aggressive tone, Ihyeon didn’t immediately respond. He let out a short breath, then met the eyes staring at him with stubborn insistence. Their gazes collided. Ihyeon’s reddened lips parted slowly, as if against his will.
“You called for me.”
“…Ha.”
At the dry, indifferent reply—like something you’d say to a stranger—a short sigh escaped Seunghyeok. There was no trace of amusement on his face despite the sound.
“Earlier it was ‘Please go ahead.’ This time it’s ‘You called.’”
“……”
“We meet again after all this time, and this is how stiff your greetings are?”
Seunghyeok chuckled lightly, bouncing the leg he’d crossed, then pressed the glass back to his lips. Ihyeon watched him with an expression that made it clear he didn’t find it funny in the slightest.
Nine years ago, there had still been traces of boyishness left on that face. Now, not even a hint remained. The sharper cheekbones and angular jawline lent a heavy, masculine weight to his features.
Yet the atmosphere around him didn’t feel all that different from back then. He looked unstable—and at the same time, deeply bored.
“Nothing to say? Usually when people meet like this, they say things like, ‘Long time no see,’ or ‘What brings you here?’ Stuff like that.”
Setting the bottle down, Seunghyeok slouched back into the sofa. Despite drinking hard liquor like water, there wasn’t a single sign of disarray on his face. He closed his eyes, rolling his neck from side to side as he spoke.
“Oh. Though I figured you’d ask about that first.”
With a faint scoff, Seunghyeok jerked his chin toward the glass wall. A man was moving busily between two women. Watching the scene with a series of short laughs, he spoke without taking his eyes off it.
“Not curious?”
“…I don’t think it’s something I need to know.”
“Wow…. Taesik, looks like Mr. Kim really trained the kids well.”
Seunghyeok leaned his head far back over the sofa and snickered as he looked up at Taesik. Ihyeon glanced at him, then looked away again, fixing his gaze back on the table.
“……”
With that, the conversation broke off once more. They hadn’t been close enough to sit and exchange warm greetings to begin with—and even if they had been, this wasn’t the place for it.
Share pleasantries while moans mixed with cries of pleasure kept leaking through the glass?
Bodies were tangled together in a filthy mess, thrusting into each other while casually slipping tongues into other people’s mouths. It was all laid bare. A rank, fishy stench seemed to hang in the air.
Ihyeon wanted to get out of this disgusting space as soon as possible. Not a single person here looked sane. Including Gu Seunghyeok, sitting right beside him.
He lifted his wrist to check the time. 7:30 a.m. Unable to find a single reason to stay any longer, Ihyeon clenched his fist once and stood up.
“If there’s no specific reason, I’ll be going.”
“Sit.”
The shift was instant, like everything he’d said before had been an act. The voice that dropped so viciously made Ihyeon narrow his eyes and glare back at Seunghyeok.
“Why so cold.”
“……”
“I’m just happy to see you again after all this time.”
The force pressing down on his shoulders from behind felt stronger than before. Frowning, Ihyeon twisted his body free of Taesik’s grip. Then, without hesitation, he stood and turned away.
“Those two.”
“…….”
“Aren’t they the ones the newspaper ran as a big scoop not long ago?”
It was as if the slow voice hooked into him—his steps halted. His eyes moved before he could stop them. Beyond the glass wall Seunghyeok was staring at, a group of men and women were rolling around on the sofa, scraps of fabric barely clinging to their bodies.
“They said they grew close while preparing for a musical together? Ha, what a load of bullshit….”
“…….”
“They met here.”
One of the men, flushed red as he sloppily tangled tongues with someone, was a face Ihyeon recognized. He was an actor who’d recently been caught in a dating rumor with one of the most popular girl group members of the moment.
But the person he was rubbing lips with wasn’t his rumored partner—it was another woman with short hair. The idol known for her long, straight hair was right beside them, clinging to another man’s neck and rocking against him.
Ethics. Morality. Law.
Ihyeon had learned long ago—through all kinds of experiences since turning twenty—that there were people you couldn’t touch no matter which of those you held up.
There was violence above people. Above violence was the law. Above the law was money. And above all of that, there were those who sat on top of everything.
The thought that Gu Seunghyeok was now one of those people wasn’t a hunch—it was certainty.
Turning his head back, Ihyeon bit down on his lower lip and looked at Seunghyeok. He couldn’t understand why he’d been dragged into a forbidden place like this just to be shown such a spectacle. Meeting Ihyeon’s gaze, Seunghyeok clicked his tongue playfully and tilted his head.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re hurting my feelings.”
“……”
“They needed a place to mess around where no one could see them. I had drugs, alcohol, and a suitable location.”
Shrugging, Seunghyeok continued.
“It’s business. You give what you give, you take what you take.”
Ihyeon didn’t want to know anything about that kind of business. He’d never once been curious about how celebrities or political and financial elites who occasionally showed up at the club indulged themselves so filthily, or how they slipped through the law afterward and put on innocent faces in public.
There was only one thing Ihyeon wanted to know right now.
When he could leave this room. When he could escape the sticky noise clinging to his ears, the air thick with cigarette smoke, and that gaze digging into him like it was tearing him apart.
This time, Seunghyeok pressed his lips directly to the mouth of the whiskey bottle. His eyes, like those of a predator stalking prey, stayed locked on Ihyeon. He watched Ihyeon sit there with his lips pressed tight, face stiff as he looked away, then let out a scoffing laugh and rolled his eyes upward.
“Ah, fuck…. You’re making it way too obvious that you don’t want anything to do with me.”
“……”
“I’m trying to give an old friend a good opportunity.”
There was no answer, but Seunghyeok went on anyway, letting out a short whistle.
“You see that one sitting on the edge of the pool? The one sucking off the blond bastard.”
“…….”
“She’s the second daughter of the Youngwon Group. Probably two or three years younger than you. If you latch onto something like that and sweet-talk her right, don’t you think snagging an officetel or two right in the middle of Seoul would be easy?”
Seunghyeok narrowed his eyes in a way that didn’t suit him.
“Why are you hauling drinks around here, of all people—Kwon Ihyeon?”