The man in the corner trembled, his bluish lips quivering in terror. Seunghyeok kept his eyes locked on him to the very end, grinding his heel down with deliberate emphasis. He only lifted his foot after the man rolled his eyes back halfway and collapsed, a clear, foamy saliva clinging to the corner of his mouth.
“Gwak Taesik.”
Seunghyeok glanced down at the floor where water from the pool had spread and made his shoes slick, then cracked his neck from side to side.
“…Yes, boss.”
“If something like that shows up in my sight one more time, you’ll be the one who won’t be able to function as a man. Got it?”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Without replying, Seunghyeok turned away. What remained in his wake were the messes Taesik would have to clean up tonight. Taesik let out a breath and rubbed his face.
While making a call somewhere and telling them to secure a bed in a private ward, Taesik looked down at the naked man shivering on the floor. The pale, clean face reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t bring himself to say who.
Clink.
At the sound of the bell by the door, Ihyeon flinched and turned his head. For a moment, he thought bulky figures dressed in black might have come for him—but what entered the sundae soup restaurant was a boy who looked about middle school age and a middle-aged woman.
Bowing quickly to the customers as they came in, Ihyeon clenched the rag in his hand.
Ever since storming out of the VIP lounge like that, Ihyeon had picked up the habit of scanning his surroundings whenever he was commuting or walking through dim places. Every time he rounded a corner, he felt like Gu Seunghyeok or one of his men might appear.
But contrary to his fears, no one came looking for him. Even while working, he never ran into Seunghyeok or anyone connected to him. As he wiped the tables with a dry cloth, Ihyeon thought that maybe that day could be dismissed as nothing more than an incident.
Buzz.
A brief vibration hummed from his apron pocket. When he pulled out his phone, Subin’s name was on the screen.
[Did you find your wallet?]
The wallet he had left safely in his locker had vanished without a trace at dawn yesterday. He’d already felt chills creeping over him from the moment he clocked in that night, his condition far from good, and the crowd brought in by a group of models who’d stopped by after a photoshoot had only made the chaos worse.
Even just weaving through the packed crowd with his worn-down body had been a struggle, and between cleaning the bathrooms and washing dishes in the kitchen while prepping simple bar snacks, he hadn’t had a second to breathe.
By the time he was called out to the hall to help and started making cocktails with Yoonjin the bartender, his mind had been half gone. He’d stumbled around in a daze, chased by drunk customers and ear-splitting music.
He didn’t realize his wallet was missing until after everyone had been cleared out and closing was done, as he was packing up to get home as quickly as possible. He’d stopped by the convenience store once to buy cigarettes and put it back in the locker afterward—but no matter how much he searched, it was gone.
There was no way a CCTV camera would be stuck in the flimsy little staff break room slapped together beside the storage area, and he didn’t have the energy to interrogate people to find the culprit. On top of that, it was his own fault for not locking the locker out of sheer laziness.
The wallet itself wasn’t expensive, and he didn’t carry cash, so aside from the hassle of reissuing his ID and cards, it wasn’t a serious loss. Still, it had been an especially hard dawn. Already exhausted, the unexpected hit had weighed on him mentally.
That was why he’d suggested meeting up in the evening when Subin had been laughing and heading out with the others. He could’ve just borrowed fare for the trip, but today of all days, he didn’t want to be alone in a cold, empty apartment. Subin had looked a little surprised at Ihyeon clutching his sleeve, but as if he’d been waiting for it, he’d said he’d come pick him up.
“Hey, could we get more peppers and ssamjang here!”
“Yes.”
Staring blankly at an empty table, Ihyeon snapped back to himself at the shout and looked up. He delivered a plate of fresh green peppers and ssamjang to the customers in hiking gear who were downing soju with a single bowl of sundae soup in the corner. When he returned, one of the kitchen ladies seated at a table spoke to him.
“Ihyeon, is something wrong?”
“Work’s fine.”
She smiled lightly, watching him arrange the utensil holders with a worried look.
“Are you eating properly? You look like your face is getting thinner by the day.”
At the concern in her voice, Ihyeon pulled his lips up instead of answering, and the wrinkles between her brows deepened.
“Oh no. That won’t do. I’ll pack you some side dishes when you get off later. At least take those and eat. People who live alone have to take care of themselves.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Once the utensil holders were all set, there was nothing left to do. It was already past lunch, so no more customers were coming in, and the side dishes like peppers and onions were fully stocked. After a brief look around, Ihyeon went back to the kitchen and wet the rag again.
“Next spring, are you going back to school?”
The hand scrubbing the table faltered. Ihyeon ran his tongue once over his dry lips and kept moving. Even knowing the ring-shaped stains wouldn’t come off, he rubbed diligently at the marked tabletop.
“…I don’t know.”
“You should hurry up and graduate and get a proper job. You can’t keep doing this forever.”
Counting tuition, living expenses, and the rent hike the landlord had demanded, Ihyeon put on a mechanical smile. If he worked at the club through this break and juggled a part-time job during the semester, he might barely make it to graduation without taking a leave—but he wasn’t sure.
“Sigh… business isn’t great here either. I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up. If the building owner raises the rent again, we’re in trouble….”
The grumbling trailed off unfinished. The muttering of middle-aged men already drunk from midday and the anchor’s voice from the TV blended awkwardly in the cramped restaurant.
Strike, accident, cold wave….
Words that felt oddly removed from reality drifted past his ears.
“Oh dear…. It’s snowing again. Again.”
Ihyeon lifted his head at the sigh-laced remark. As if drawn in, he looked toward the road. Beyond the fogged window, large, pure-white snowflakes drifted slowly down through the air.
The white specks fell straight down at a languid pace, as if weights were tied to them. Against the dark buildings across the street, the pale particles stood out more starkly than pedestrians’ breath. As Ihyeon watched, the woman peeling garlic spoke.
“They say young people these days hate winter because of the snow. Guess that’s not you, Ihyeon?”
Watching a child dash across the crosswalk and slip under someone’s umbrella, Ihyeon slowly straightened from his bent posture.
The man who looked like the child’s father cupped the cheeks of a little girl with pigtails and smiled. Standing under the bright lights with a rag in hand, Ihyeon watched the scene, then ran his tongue over his dry lips and spoke.
“No. I don’t like it either.”
When the world was buried under white snow, the pale sky the flakes fell from felt immeasurably distant, as if he might be crushed beneath that sound-swallowing whiteness.
Because it was the season when being alone became painfully real.
“It’s cold.”
The face reflected in the glass looked expressionless, dry, and helpless. Meeting his own drained reflection, Ihyeon closed his eyes slowly, then turned away.
***
“Ihyeon, why don’t you stay at my place until you find your wallet. You’ve got to reissue your transit card too—everything’s going to be a hassle.”
Subin let out a small sigh, his brows tipped down in worry, but Ihyeon shook his head calmly.
“If I look at home, I’ll probably find my old debit card. They said reissuing the card I applied for would only take a few days.”
“Still—”
“Hyung, it’s fine. I’m not a kid.”
The tone was gentle but firm. The faint line he seemed to be drawing made Subin feel awkward for no reason. He laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Alright, then. I won’t push anything else. Just take the taxi I called. You looked pretty rough earlier.”
A cool hand rested lightly on Ihyeon’s forehead. Instead of batting it away, Ihyeon lowered his gaze and only wet his dry lips. Watching his complexion, Subin leaned in and brushed a light kiss against his flat forehead. Ihyeon blinked a beat late at the sudden warmth.
“See? You’re burning up. Do you have medicine at home?”
Feeling the unusual heat that lingered where their lips had touched, Subin’s expression turned serious. He frowned and kept checking Ihyeon’s warm forehead and the back of his neck.
The sticky, feverish sensation leaking out with each breath didn’t seem to be just from last night’s excess. Even with the cold wind cutting sharply across his face, his breath felt hot—clear signs of a cold.
“We can stop by a pharmacy on the way.”
“Just skip work today and come to the hospital with hyung—”
“Hyung, I think the taxi’s here. That one, right?”
Ihyeon cut him off, looking to the side.
An orange taxi with its reservation light on and a black sedan were approaching slowly.