Chapter 15
The sunlight slipped through the cracked blinds, casting thin lines across the empty room. Eun Wol lay still, staring at the ceiling, his mind tangled in words and actions he wished he could take back.
A single cup of cold tea sat untouched on the counter. A silent witness to two lives crossed but not joined. He hadn't brewed it.
It must have been Gyu In.
The doorbell's echo from the night before still clung to him. He'd told himself that if it was Gyu In, he would open the door. Apologize. Try.
But it hadn't been. Just a deliveryman with a warm takeaway.
He knew exactly who had sent it. And somehow, that made it harder to admit that. After everything he'd said and done, Gyu In still cared.
The thought dropped into him like cold water.
He tried to sweep the floor. The broom leaned untouched against the wall, accusing in its silence. He opened the fridge, stared, and shut it again. On the couch, folded laundry sat waiting. He moved a shirt, then let it fall, sinking down beside it. His head throbbed. Not sharp, just a dull weight pressing behind his eyes, the kind that came from too much sleep or not enough.
Time didn't move. Morning or afternoon….he couldn't tell.
It wasn't until his stomach twisted but not from hunger, instead the reminder of everything else. Then, he jolted.
Work. He hadn't gone to the bar in days. No call. No text. Just vanished.
He picked up his phone. The lock screen was littered with unread messages. A few from Soo Young stood out.
[Soo Young]
Sent: Hyung! Where are you? Manager was asking. I said you were feeling unwell. Text me when you see this!
[Soo Young]
Sent: Your friend came by. He looked so worried. Manager gave him your address, he's heading over!!
[Soo Young]
Sent: Text me soon! I'm getting worried too ):
Eun Wol stared at the screen a while longer. His thumb hovered over the bar's contact before he tapped call.
"Hello?"
A beat.
"You alive?" The manager's voice was gruff, but not angry.
"Yeah."
"You could've texted. Or coughed into the phone. Anything. Don't disappear like that."
"I'm sorry."
"Your friend said you were unwell. That true?"
A pause. "Sort of."
"You up for working tonight?"
He hesitated. "I think so."
"If not, say it. You're not getting fired over a bad week. Just… let someone know next time. Alright?"
"I'm sorry."
"And I said that's fine. Just don't go disappearing."
The line clicked off before he could reply. Eun Wol stayed frozen, phone still pressed to his ear. There was no lecture. No scolding. Just quiet concern, disguised as bluntness.
It was strangely worse.
Because even after everything …
They still cared.
*
The office shouldn't have been this quiet for a weekday. The blinds were half-drawn, lines of shadow striping across stacks of untouched paperwork. His phone lay face-down on the desk, the faint vibration of messages long since gone silent.
Gyu In leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it held answers. He had told himself he'd stop. Stop checking his phone, stop asking Soo Young, stop waiting like some fool. But here he was, with the silence from Eun Wol pressing down louder than any argument they'd ever had.
He exhaled. Picked up a pen. Dropped it again.
Somewhere between pretending to work and actually trying to, his phone buzzed—just once. A new email. Not from who he wanted. He didn't check it.
His gaze drifted toward the paper bag on the side table—the same takeaway he had left outside Eun Wol's door the night before. He'd ordered one for himself too, out of habit maybe. Or muscle memory. Or just plain stupidity. It sat unopened, the smell faint but enough to turn his stomach. Helplessness twisted sharper than hunger, and he hated it.
A sharp knock broke the stillness.
"Come in," he muttered, voice low.
The door creaked open. Hae Won stepped in, suit pristine, brows raised slightly as if he'd walked into a crime scene.
"Sir Kim," came his calm, even voice, never skipping formalities, no matter how many times Gyu In told him not to.
"You didn't read the email I sent you."
"I didn't read it."
"I figured. I've cleared your next hour. The strategist meeting has been moved to Friday. I've rescheduled the evening call with the overseas partners."
No reaction.
"You can just say I look like shit," Gyu In muttered, forcing a tired smile. "I know I look like one."
A beat.
"I assume you didn't eat."
"Change of topic. And here I am wondering why no one ever listens to me properly."
Hae Won hesitated. "Sir Kim." He looked as if he wanted to say more but stopped himself.
"I'm fine."
"Excuse me a moment."
He stepped out, only to return less than a minute later. Without a word, he set a steaming cup of chamomile tea on the desk.
"If you don't feel like eating, at least take a few sips. These usually help you settle."
Gyu In didn't respond. His eyes went back to the ceiling, as if waiting for something there to split open and swallow him whole.
"You're probably the only one who still cares about me," he murmured.
"Sir Kim… this is my duty."
Gyu In let out a dry laugh. "Touching. Five years, isn't it? And I still can't make you feel comfortable around me. What more… with him?"
"It's about Eun Wol, isn't it?" Hae Won adjusted his glasses slightly. "Would you like me to contact him?"
"No."
Hae Won shifted, preparing to leave. "I'll organize the project materials and send them over once you're ready. Please at least drink while it's warm."
The cup sat there, its surface rippling faintly with steam. Gyu In didn't touch it. Didn't drink.
But somehow, the room felt a little less heavy.
"…Thank you," he muttered.
*
Hours later, the bar was louder than Eun Wol expected. The clinking of glasses, the low hum of conversation—it all moved like a world he no longer belonged to. He stood behind the counter, hands curled around a glass, pretending to listen when Soo Young spoke.
"Hyung, you okay? You've been unresponsive for days." Soo Young let out a dramatic whine, leaning against his shoulder.
Eun Wol managed a small smile that never reached his eyes.
"Just tired."
Soo Young squinted at him. "You sure? You've been jumpy like you're about to bolt every time the door opens."
Eun Wol's heart lurched. His gaze flicked to the entrance before he forced it back down to the glass in his hands.
"Just the usual bar noise," he murmured, his voice nearly drowned out by the chatter.
A few customers called out for drinks, pulling him back into motion. He mixed, poured, nodded - all on autopilot. Every movement felt heavy, like walking through water.
Behind the glow of the bar lights, he was colder than ever. He told himself he had ended things with Gyu In. That silence proved it. And yet he couldn't shake the unease. He knew he should reach out first, apologise, try. But deep down, he didn't believe he deserved the chance.
He glanced at the door anyway. Made a silent promise: if Gyu In walked in, he wouldn't run this time.
But the thought dissolved quickly.
A man slammed his empty glass against the counter, making Soo Young flinch.
"Oi. I've been waiting ten minutes. You blind or just stupid?"
Eun Wol looked up. Not annoyed. Not apologetic. Just blank.
He picked up the glass and said evenly, "You want another, or you want to keep barking?"
The man blinked. "What did you say?"
"I said your glass is empty. Decide what you want."
There was no heat in his tone. No sharp edge. Just quiet indifference that made it sting worse.
Soo Young stepped forward, ready to diffuse, but the man only scoffed, muttered something ugly, and stormed off. His cologne, cheap alcohol masking ego, still hung in the air.
"Hyung…" Soo Young whispered.
"What."
"You scared him off. Like a mafia boss."
"Should've tipped better then."
He collected the glass as if it had wronged him personally.
Another table waved. Another order. Another hollow smile.
"What if he complains?" Soo Young asked under his breath.
"Then I get fired. And sleep."
"Hyung."
"I'm joking."
He wasn't.
And until the end of the night, Gyu In didn't come.
Not that Eun Wol was waiting.
Not that he kept glancing at the door.
Not that he rehearsed the single word he wanted to say.
Sorry.
The hours dragged. The glass racks emptied. The bar grew quieter, the low hum of old ballads filling the silence.
Still, no Gyu In.
At closing, Soo Young swept while Eun Wol wiped down the counter with needless care, as though scrubbing hard enough might erase the memory of a paper bag, a fight, and the silence that followed.
"You okay, hyung?" Soo Young asked again, softer this time.
"Mm."
He wasn't. But he was used to it.
He tossed the cloth into the sink, pulled on his coat, and stepped into the night air. The streets were still—the kind of quiet that made the noise in his head unbearable.
And that was the end of it.
The night passed.
Then the next.
And the one after.
*
Eun Wol had made peace with it. Maybe Gyu In had already given up on him.
There was no one to blame but himself. He hadn't made a move either.
Same old routine. Work. Home. Work.
Two phones. No messages. Staring at them like they owed him something.
Nothing ever lit up. Nothing ever changed.
Then the bell above the bar rang.
He barely looked up, voice flat. "Welcome."
Didn't matter who it was.
"Where's that waiter? The fuckass waiter!"
A voice barked across the room.
Eun Wol blinked. Familiar. He looked up.
Oh. That guy. The one he insulted the other night.
He clicked his tongue. "Tch. Great. Of all people."
How is it the one I want never shows up, but every idiot finds their way back here?
The man stormed over, three friends trailing behind.
Lovely.
"It's you!" the guy shouted.
"Pathetic," Eun Wol muttered.
"What did you just say?"
"Your ears need checking. When's the last time you saw a doctor?"
If this were a drama, CGI smoke would be puffing out of his red ears.
Real life was just louder.
The man grabbed Eun Wol by the collar and yanked him in.
"You really asking for a beating, huh?"
Eun Wol tilted his head. "Isn't that what you're trying to do? Bringing three men to gang up on a bartender? Cute. Like a field trip. Should've worn matching hats."
He didn't see the hit coming.
One shove, and he went crashing into a table.
Glass clattered. Something sharp bit into his palm.
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
He coughed, air knocked out, as the men loomed closer.
"What? Can't talk anymore?"
Their laughter rang in his ears.
Eun Wol gritted his teeth. He hated feeling this powerless.
He pushed himself up slow, steady and glared at them, fists clenched.
The manager shoved through, shouting for security, waving his phone.
"I'm calling the police if you bastards don't leave in five seconds!"
The men cursed but scattered. Probably drunk. Definitely stupid.
Eun Wol sat down, exhaling as the tension drained, only for the sting in his palm to flare.
A thin line of red stretched across his skin. Blood seeped through his fingers.
"Damn glass."
He washed it under cold water, wrapped it in paper towel, didn't bother being careful.
Why did it matter?
When his shift ended, he stepped out the backdoor.
The alley was dim, trash bins lined up like silent spectators. The air smelled of fried oil, cigarette smoke, and poor decisions.
One deep breath. That was all he wanted. Just one.
But apparently, the universe was playing darts tonight and he was the bullseye.
Because there smack in the middle of a standoff was Gyu In.
Eun Wol muttered. "Why is he—?"
"Listen," Gyu In said calmly to three men, "I think there's been a misunderstanding."
One thug cracked his knuckles. "You trying to defend that waiter from earlier?"
"Oh, God, no," Gyu In said quickly, hands up. "He's insufferable. I'm just here to—uh—conduct a spontaneous morality check."
"…Morality what?"
"See? You passed! You're already questioning it. Enlightenment. Congratulations."
A fist flew.
Gyu In ducked, spun awkwardly then smacked face first into the alley wall with a loud thud.
Eun Wol blinked.
…Is he okay?
Gyu In wobbled upright, clutching his head like a newborn deer.
"Ow…"
He turned—
Four wide eyes met.
Eun Wol's jaw dropped.
Gyu In's pupils dilated like he'd seen death.
"…Oh," they both said.
"Get him!" one of the men yelled.
And suddenly, Gyu In was running.
"RUN!" he shouted, as if he hadn't just walked into this like a bargain Batman.
Before Eun Wol could react, a hand latched onto his wrist.
"WAIT—"
"Shut up and move, you Mr. Emotionally Constipated Bunny!"
Eun Wol stumbled forward with a curse, nearly tripping as Gyu In dragged him down the alley.
Behind them: pounding footsteps, trash cans toppling, someone swearing about "designer assholes" and "fearless waiters."
They ran.
One street. A corner. Past a startled cat that hissed and vanished into a dumpster like it had beef with the plotline.
"You're insane!" Eun Wol shouted.
"You're bleeding!" Gyu In shot back.
"So your solution is cardio?!"
"I panicked!! Did you want to get hit by those men? They're inked!"
"What does that even mean!"
"It means they're scary!"
They skidded to a stop behind a vending machine outside a convenience store.
Gyu In bent over, hands on knees, panting like he'd just outrun a zombie apocalypse. Eun Wol leaned against the wall, chest heaving.
"Are you okay?" Gyu In asked between gasps.
"You tell me. You just dragged me out of nowhere, made me run, and now I'm bleeding more."
"Technically," Gyu In said, raising a finger, "that was self-defense by association."
"Shut up."
They stared at each other.
For a second, the world went quiet.
"I looked cool, right?" Gyu In asked.
Eun Wol squinted. "You ran into a wall."
"It was tactical misdirection."
"You screamed like a microwave."
"…Still counts."
Eun Wol groaned, sliding down the wall then broke into helpless laughter against his bruised knuckles.
He couldn't stop laughing.
He didn't know if it was adrenaline, the absurdity, or simply that Gyu In had shown up.
But for the first time in days, he felt breathless in a way that didn't hurt.