Chapter 7
I first noticed him one Thursday night.
He was in the corner of the bar, elbows on the counter, the same crooked grin, watching me wipe glasses. No call. No warning. Just… there.
By the second week, he was waiting every night after my shift. Leaning against the doorframe, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes half-lidded like he owned the place.
Some nights we drove nowhere, the car windows down, music loud enough to drown the city, sharing half-laughed stories we'd forget by morning. Other nights, we didn't speak. He'd turn the music up, crack the windows, and I'd feel him there, close, without a word.
He never explained why. I never asked him to leave.
Tonight was just like any other night.
Eun Wol wiped down tables, stacked empty glasses, and guided drunk customers toward the door with gentle patience. Everything moved smoothly except for the strange, nagging feeling in his chest. Something was… off.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
Soo Young nudged Eun Wol's elbow, grin teasing. "You've been kinda distracted."
Eun Wol froze.
…Is that why I feel this weird emptiness?
"Don't think too much about it," he muttered.
"Hyungggg," Soo Young whined. "Who is that man? Your new friend? Always in those polished suits and pants."
Eun Wol turned back to the counter, glass in hand, quietly resuming his wiping. But Soo Young leaned closer anyway, far into his space, eyes sparkling.
"I'm right~ He must be a good person. You seem… different around him."
"You know, when you first started here, I was terrified of you," Soo Young continued, voice soft. "So distant… aloof. But then, little by little, you started talking to me. I was so happy!"
He laughed quietly.
"But that man… he brings out other sides of you."
"Soo Young."
Soo Young blinked, startled. "Ah! Sorry, hyung! I-I didn't mean to overstep. I'll shut up now—"
"I'm not angry," Eun Wol said, exhaling softly. His eyes softened as he met the younger boy's earnest gaze.
Soo Young reminded him so much of his little sister. How could he ever be mad at someone who genuinely wanted him to be happy?
"You remind me of my little sister."
"Eh?! You have a sister? I thought you were an only child!"
"No. I have a little sister," Eun Wol said, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. "She talks just like you. And I love listening to her."
A memory flickered: Eun Bin curled up on the couch in their old apartment, babbling about some girl group's choreography while pretending to read. Her voice always filled the silence, always made the apartment feel like home.
He never told her, but he loved it. The noise, the chaos, the way she'd laugh at her own jokes.
Now, that same chatter bounced off the walls from Soo Young, and something ached deep in his chest.
"You must be really close! That's so nice. I always wished I had a sibling…"
Eun Wol chuckled under his breath. "Well, as long as I'm here, I don't mind listening to you."
He reached out, fingers twitching to ruffle Soo Young's hair but just as his hand hovered—
A sudden, heavy chill crawled across the room.
His gaze snapped to the entrance. Irritation and… something sharper were etched into Gyu In's posture. Gyu In's eyes flicked briefly toward Soo Young and Eun Wol, just enough for the younger boy's grin to make him stiffen, jaw tightening.
Eun Wol yanked his hand back. Soo Young noticed the shift and lit up.
"Your friend's here!" he nudged. "Go say hi! It's not even that busy tonight."
Eun Wol gently shoved him aside, returning to the counter. Still, his eyes flicked up again.
Gyu In leaned against the counter, fingers drumming against the wood. He tilted his head, watching Eun Wol a fraction too closely as Soo Young laughed at some joke. A faint, almost imperceptible curl of his lip suggested irritation or maybe jealousy.
"Who comes to a bar just to not drink?" Eun Wol muttered under his breath.
A voice echoed in his head: So he can drive.
"So much money, yet no idea how to use it properly."
The crowd thinned. When Eun Wol finally stepped out of the changing room, Gyu In had disappeared. He exhaled, unsure if it was relief or something heavier, closer to disappointment.
He waved a half-hearted goodbye to his workmates and stepped outside.
"Took you long enough."
Gyu In was propped against his car door, casual as always but his arms crossed over his chest, one brow arched, betraying the faint edge of impatience.
"Why? Couldn't bear to leave your Soo Young?"
The sarcasm was sharp, deliberate but underneath it, Eun Wol caught the flicker of possessiveness.
"Don't start throwing accusations out of nowhere," Eun Wol replied, rolling his eyes.
Immediately, Gyu In's expression twisted into something pitiful - dramatic and fake. "How can you say that to me… I thought we had something special."
Eun Wol grimaced, stomach churning, not from hunger, but from this man's antics. He'd never get used to Gyu In's theatrics… or his subtle, lurking jealousy.
"Geez. What do you want today?" he asked, moving toward the car. "A drive? Don't tell me you haven't eaten again."
Gyu In waved him off, sliding into the driver's seat, eyes flicking once at Soo Young's receding figure. "Just passing by. Thought I'd send you back." He shrugged. "Hop in."
The drive to the park was quiet, peaceful, like most nights.
Eun Wol glanced at him from the passenger seat. For once, he looked… almost normal. Not like death warmed over. That was… something.
The car slowed as they pulled up to the curb. Just as they parked, Gyu In's eyes narrowed at a figure nearby, someone standing still, watching them.
"Hey, bunny," he drawled, leaning forward to get a better look. "Got any other pet friends I should know about?"
"Pet? What the hell are you…"
The words caught in Eun Wol's throat. He saw who it was.
Song Ji Hun.
Gyu In groaned, heavy and theatrical. "No way. Don't tell me you actually know him. How does a guy with a hoodie for a face keep collecting friends? I swear, you better not—"
"Quiet."
The word cut sharper than Eun Wol intended.
"I'll go," he said suddenly, eyes fixed on the figure in the distance.
Before he could move, a hand landed on his shoulder.
"What now?"
The tone came out cold. Colder than usual.
The chill in Eun Wol's voice made Gyu In flinch. His hand recoiled instantly, like he'd brushed against a live wire. His usual smirk faltered.
He was used to indifference. To apathy. But this felt different. A wall.
"I… nothing," Gyu In muttered, clearing his throat, shifting back in his seat. His fingers gripped the steering wheel too tightly. "Take care."
Eun Wol wanted to say more, but his mind was already spiraling. Ji Hun's presence pressed into him like a weight, heavy and unshakable. He gave Gyu In a short nod before stepping out of the car.
Toward the figure fate seemed determined to tie him to.
Eun Wol deliberately veered in another direction to avoid Ji Hun, who was still watching him.
A sudden weight on his shoulder made him turn. He shook it off at once, eyes dropping to avoid the hurt flickering in Ji Hun's gaze.
"I just want to talk."
He stayed silent but didn't leave. That was enough for Ji Hun to breathe and try again.
"So… he's the one?"
Eun Wol frowned at the implication.
"What are you trying to say?"
"You should know." Ji Hun's voice softened. "I was just passing by. I didn't expect to run into you."
"You should have kept walking."
Ji Hun's shoulders eased down. "I thought about it. After last time, I didn't want to push you. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I wasn't upset."
"You were. Maybe you still are." He exhaled, choosing his words. "I didn't think what I said would cut like that. I was just glad to see you. You looked fine."
His gaze held steady. "You know how things were when you were forced to leave. I thought I was going to lose you. Even if you had… slipped, I could accept that. I just wanted you safe."
Eun Wol pressed his lips together. With Ji Hun this close, everything felt heavier. He thought he was letting go, yet Ji Hun kept appearing.
"You lost me the moment you stopped believing me." His breath came slow, deliberate. He met Ji Hun's eyes.
"I told you before, and I'll say it again. I didn't do it."
Ji Hun's throat worked. "The evidence was there."
"Then why am I still here?" Eun Wol's voice sharpened. "Why am I standing here talking to you? Shouldn't I be locked away somewhere, getting more treatment?"
"Didn't Mr. Lee help you? Without him, you would have been locked up."
Eun Wol let out a dry sound. "Yeah. Sure."
He stepped back and steadied himself.
"There is no point in continuing this. It will only end badly."
"I…" Ji Hun's voice thinned. "I didn't mean it how it sounded. I am glad you are better now. That is all I wanted to say today."
"How is Eun Bin?"
Ji Hun blinked, caught off guard by the question.
"She's okay, I think. Mr. Lee's been arranging a lot for both groups, so I hardly see her. But I believe she's not in Korea now. Her tour must have started."
That could explain why she hasn't replied…
"Okay." Eun Wol's gaze flickered across the park, "I think we've been standing here too long. Time to go."
Without waiting for a reply, Eun Wol walked past Ji Hun.
"Eun Wol, no matter what happened in the past, I'll always support you." Ji Hun's voice dropped to a low, earnest whisper.
The words made Eun Wol stop for half a second. Not from comfort. From the sting of it. What happened? As if it had been some careless mistake. As if he'd actually done those things. His chest tightened, but he forced his steps to keep going, leaving the weight of Ji Hun's half-truth behind.
Ji Hun's eyes lingered on his retreating figure, soft and heavy with unspoken regret. He held onto a fragile hope, lips curving into a faint, wistful smile—a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, which shimmered with longing and sorrow.
But the night only pressed back at him. As Eun Wol disappeared into the dark, Ji Hun's gaze dropped to the ground. Loneliness clawed at him, but still, he told himself this was enough - that being near, even from a distance, was better than nothing.
So instead, he breathed out, a soft exhale of both pain and self-deception.
*
Eun Wol slid down against the door the moment it closed behind him.
Running into Ji Hun was still exhausting. No matter how much time had passed, the incident remained a deep scar that refused to fade. It reminded him how quickly people could turn their backs, no matter how close they once were.
For a while he sat there, eyes unfocused, until the stillness began to itch at him. With a tired exhale, he reached into his bag and pulled out two phones. One was his own, sluggish and worn, the screen full of scratches. The other gleamed faintly under the light, almost foreign in its perfection: Gyu In's gift.
His thumb hovered over his old screen. He typed slowly.
[Eun Bin]
Sent:
I heard that you're on tour.
Please take care of yourself.
I'll always wait for your reply.
The words looked stiff and inadequate. Still, before he could talk himself out of it, he hit send. The phone clattered onto the bed as if it burned his hand.
Silence pressed in. Ji Hun's voice lingered faintly in his head, laced with memories he wanted to forget. But louder, uncomfortably louder, was Gyu In's expression when Eun Wol pulled away. A flicker of something raw, almost afraid.
His brows drew together. That couldn't be right. Gyu In didn't fear. Not him. Not ever. And yet the image clung to him, stubborn as smoke.
He hadn't done anything wrong. There was no promise between them. No rule. No ownership.
So why did guilt sit so heavy in his chest, like a question left unanswered?