A Farewell, or Just an End?

Inwoo sprinted from the taxi, rushing into the hospital. Dakyung had called him while he was embroiled with Seo Junwon, saying she’d checked his room and found it empty. He had initially tried to brush her off, claiming he was out for a walk, but his excuse didn’t fool her.

Feeling she would pursue him relentlessly, he hurried back to his room. The moment he opened the door, Inwoo recoiled in alarm.

Park Dakyung stood blocking the doorway, her expression as grim as a reaper’s.

“Good morning?”

“The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

Inwoo removed his hat and mask, setting them aside.

“Where on earth have you been?”

“Exercising.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Walks and exercise are best enjoyed at night, away from prying eyes.”

Avoiding Dakyung’s suspicious gaze, Inwoo moved to the window and stretched.

“My body feels stiff since we stopped halfway.”

In the midst of their lovemaking, Seo Junwon had suddenly cried out, “Arong-i!” Caught off guard, he had stammered incoherently about Arong-i being his dog.

There was no time to wonder why a dog had suddenly come to mind. Just then, Dakyung called, and Inwoo hastily dressed. Seo Junwon’s face at that moment had looked as despairing as someone who had lost their entire world.

Inwoo patted his shoulder, telling him to get some more sleep. Seo Junwon then reached out his arms. Inwoo chuckled.

Feigning reluctance, he allowed himself to be embraced. Seo Junwon’s thick forearms held him with utmost care, as if he were a precious treasure.

He offered to take Inwoo back, but Inwoo quickly refused, fearing the awkwardness if Park Dakyung were to catch him.

Thinking about Seo Junwon made Inwoo smile. Just then, Dakyung approached him.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thought of something.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

“If it keeps popping into your head and making you smile, that sounds like a crush.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. It’s not a person.”

“Then what is it? You’re being suspicious. Tell me!”

Fearing she would probe further, Inwoo vaguely changed the subject.

“Hmm… Someone has a dog, and its name is Arong-i.”

“A dog, out of the blue?”

“Isn’t it funny?”

“What’s funny about Arong-i? My friend is also named Arong.”

“Friend? A person?”

“Yes. Her name is Kim Arong. Her older sister is Darong.”

All traces of a smile vanished from Inwoo’s face. No way, it must be a pet name, he thought. But Dakyung insisted it wasn’t; she was a high school classmate.

Not only that, but she knew another Arong from work. Inwoo’s expression subtly hardened as he listened. Could Arong-i really be a dog? he began to doubt slightly.

Upon reflection, calling out a dog’s name during s*x was indeed a bit strange.

“Why are you frowning?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Well, I’m leaving then. I’ll be back in the morning. Get some good rest.”

Dakyung gathered her car keys, sternly instructed him not to leave, and then exited the hospital room. Left alone, Inwoo took off his shirt and entered the bathroom.

Though he had rinsed off hastily, a proper shower seemed more appropriate. As he took off his shirt, he caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror and clicked his tongue.

Distinct, mottled marks were clearly visible on his chest.

“Well, someone certainly had a hearty feast.”

He lightly brushed his fingertip against his nipple, coaxing it upwards. It was faintly tender from how much it had been sucked and licked.

A dull ache began to throb in his lower body. Recalling Seo Junwon, who had pounded into him with such relentless fervor, desire slowly began to surge.

Startled, he lightly slapped his own cheek.

Are you crazy? Why do you keep thinking about it?

After removing his shirt, he sat on the edge of the bathtub and pulled out his phone from his pants pocket. Typing “Seo Junwon” into the search bar brought up his profile and a stream of articles.

In his profile picture, his expression was somewhat stiff. Twenty-nine. He was three years older than Inwoo.

As Inwoo slowly looked through, “Kim Ahyoung” appeared in the related searches. Kim Ahyoung? Just in case, he searched “Kim Ahyoung Seo Junwon.”

[Seo Junwon Witnessed on a Date with Cellist Kim Ahyoung.]

[Kim Ahyoung and Seo Junwon Dating Rumors. Another Second-Generation Chaebol Present.]

[Kim Ahyoung Denies Seo Junwon Dating Rumors. Just Acquaintances.]

Besides these, stories about the two often appeared on popular internet forums. There were all sorts of unconfirmed rumors: that their relationship was definite but Kim Ahyoung’s family opposed it due to their wealth, or that Seo Junwon had cheated.

“Kim Ahyoung… Ahyoung-i….”

Inwoo’s brow furrowed deeply in thought.

Could it be Arong-i?

Inwoo’s eyes widened slightly as he slowly examined the photo. A familiar man was between Seo Junwon and Kim Ahyoung.

It was night, and his face was pixelated, but it was definitely the man Inwoo knew: Seo Youngmin, the eldest son of Woojin Group. His s*x partner, who had visited his hospital room just yesterday.

The coat he was wearing was the very one, only one ever made in Italy. He had worn it when they met, and Inwoo had asked about it because he liked it.

He felt as though he’d been struck squarely on the head. Checking the article, it mentioned that a second-generation chaebol, referred to only as “Mr. A,” was also present at the meeting between Seo Junwon and Kim Ahyoung.

Searching “Seo Junwon and Seo Youngmin” together yielded nothing. The shared surname felt unsettling. Could it be… are these two related?

“Ah, this doesn’t feel good….”

Should I ask him directly? Inwoo unintentionally recalled Seo Junwon’s face. His pure gaze, his expression of overwhelming joy, his slightly clumsy way of speaking.

And his blushing, laughing face.

[Constantly thinking about it, smiling to yourself—that sounds like a crush.]

No way, that’s ridiculous. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts of Seo Junwon. There is one person who could help me in a situation like this.

Someone with extensive connections in the entertainment industry and a deep understanding of political and business circles. He might know what kind of relationship Seo Junwon and Seo Youngmin had.

Rather than letting the uneasiness fester, he needed to verify the truth. Just as he was about to make a call, a message came in.

It was from Seo Junwon, the man he had been entangled with just moments ago.

[Inwoo. Did you get back safely? I’m troubled by my clumsy actions. I’m so sorry. Have pleasant dreams.]

“Ah, you startled me!”

Manager Taehoon, who had just turned on the lights and entered, jumped back in alarm. Junwon was sitting on the sofa like a phantom, staring at his phone.

As Taehoon approached, he saw Junwon’s face was a wreck. He must not have slept; his skin was parched and rough, and dark shadows underscored his eyes.

“Junwon, buddy.”

Instead of answering, Junwon lifted his head, his face half-dazed.

“Hyung… you’re here?”

“What are you doing this early, man? What’s wrong with your face? Didn’t you sleep?”

Instead of answering, Junwon just stared at his phone again. After parting ways at the hotel yesterday, he had carefully sent a message to Inwoo, but no reply had come by morning.

He hadn’t slept a wink until sunrise. Thinking Inwoo might not have seen it, he had sent another message early in the morning, asking if he slept well, but still, silence.

How should I interpret this? In his mind, the events of last night replayed on an endless loop. Recalling Inwoo’s subtly hardening face when he cried out “Arong-i,” Junwon felt so embarrassed and ashamed he wished he could crawl into a mouse hole.

Or simply bash his head somewhere and expire.

“Breakfast? Not yet?”

“No….”

“Then shall we go eat, just the two of us? How about samgyeopsal?”

“I have no appetite.”

“Then let’s just eat a simple five servings.”

Junwon shook his head without hesitation. His appetite had completely vanished, morning or not. It was a good thing there was no game today.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he took out a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and drank it.

Suddenly, the phone on the table vibrated with a soft whirring sound. He put down the half-empty water bottle and rushed to grab it. It was Lee Inwoo.

[Yes. I slept well. Thank you for your concern. Oh, and yesterday was fun. I’ll always be cheering for you.]

As he read the words, his face gradually hardened. ‘It was fun. I’ll always be cheering for you.’ This felt like a farewell.

He subtly bit his chapped lower lip. He read the words again and again, trying to decipher Inwoo’s true feelings, but he remained utterly inscrutable.

As he rubbed his face vigorously with his hand, Taehoon came over and glanced furtively at the message.

“Lee Inwoo?”

Junwon quickly hid his phone.

“Did you go to meet Lee Inwoo after dropping me off yesterday? Weren’t you two on bad terms? Did you become close?”

“No.”

“No way. I saw the message saying yesterday was fun.”

Junwon swallowed dryly. Taehoon didn’t think much of it, but Junwon felt a needless pang of guilt.

“We just met briefly for a meal….”

“That’s good. The director and coaches were all worried. They say to avoid even a falling leaf in your later years, but this wasn’t a leaf; it was a boulder, they said.”

“Is that so….”

“But socialize in moderation. Don’t get too close.”

“Why?”

“You say you’re a fan, but you don’t know the rumors about him? He’s notorious for his scandalous private life. Someone apparently saw him doing drugs in a club room.”

Junwon couldn’t hide his displeasure.

“He’s not that kind of person.”

“What do you mean ‘not’? The tabloids are rife with rumors. Do you think baseless stories just appear out of nowhere?”

Junwon’s face hardened coldly.

“You didn’t see it yourself. Don’t talk carelessly. Who says it’s okay to do that just because he’s a celebrity?”

Taken aback by the icy retort, Taehoon grew flustered and awkwardly patted Junwon’s shoulder.

“Alright, alright, buddy. Why are you getting angry? Calm down. I spoke out of turn.”

Junwon pushed away his soothing hand and stood up. A sigh escaped him unbidden. He used the excuse of showering and entered the bathroom.

He turned on the water in the sink and looked in the mirror; his exhaustion was plainly evident. He rolled up his sleeves and washed his face.

Splashing cold water onto his face, he finally felt a semblance of clarity. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, pulled out his phone again, and checked the message he had seen earlier.

‘It was fun. I’ll cheer for you.’

After much deliberation, he opened the message window. He typed “See you next time,” then “Have a happy day,” and wrote and deleted countless messages, agonizing over every word.

Just then, as if on cue, a message arrived. His hand tightened around the phone. It was Lee Inwoo.

[I’m contacting you in case you’re deliberating. Our encounter yesterday was quite sufficient. Both Mr. Seo Junwon and I are very busy individuals, so let’s simply cheer each other on in our separate lives. Goodbye.]