LM 48

He drove to the gallery run by Woo Gibbeum. He seriously considered crashing the car right into the gallery, wondering why he was doing such a useless thing. Fortunately, she was absent, and Woo Hyunse waited for the gallery owner to appear while looking at paintings he hadn’t planned on seeing.

Before long, Woo Gibbeum arrived. She was grinning from ear to ear, seemingly pleased about tricking Woo Hyunse. He wanted to spit in her smiling face, but his emotions had settled somewhat during the wait. He postponed his revenge, thinking he’d get back at her another time.

“Is the kid alright?” Woo Gibbeum asked casually, standing next to Woo Hyunse as they both looked at a painting together. In Seohee wasn’t bad. But she wasn’t good either. If he had to pick one thing he liked, there was just one. They would make an excellent show window couple when married. Not caring at all about each other’s private lives.

Indeed, Woo Hyunse couldn’t care less if In Seohee had dozens of mistresses or brought home children born outside. Marriage was literally just a kind of contract for mutual benefit.

“You’re very interested in my marriage.”

“Isn’t it the eldest daughter’s duty to ease father’s worries by quickly marrying off her younger brother?”

Well said. Woo Hyunse glanced over at Woo Gibbeum with incredulous eyes before turning back to the painting. Red fish were flowing into the rough, swirling blue waves. It was dynamic, chaotic, and yet orderly all at once.

The painting, giving conflicting impressions, suddenly reminded him of Kwon Siyul. Flirty and worldly-wise, yet like an innocent boy untouched by the world. Kwon Siyul was excessively clear, fair, and pretty despite being born male.

“Do you know about In Seohee’s lover?”

“I do. Why are you so concerned?”

Was talking nonsense hereditary in the Woo family? Woo Taeju was like that, and now Woo Gibbeum was pointing out strange things too.

“They say he’s sticking around even though she’s getting married. What was it that he got?

“Ah, that. I heard he got an officetel.”

As expected. Where in the world was there a fool who stuck around for nothing? Pure love didn’t exist in this world. That was how all the people Woo Hyunse had seen so far were like. They compared what they could get, took what they could, and greedily tried to possess everything within sight. That was the natural way of the world.

“As expected, Congressman Woo’s eldest daughter knows everything.”

Woo Gibbeum just smiled faintly as a response. She stretched and got ready to leave.

“But why did you come here?”

“Because I missed you, noona.”

“You’re good at bullshitting. Instead of that, buy a gift for your fiancée while you’re here. Take this one. She stood in front of it for a long time.”

It seemed she had already visited Woo Gibbeum’s gallery. Half-listening, Woo Hyunse looked up at the painting with his hands in his pockets. As he gazed intently at it, other impressions came to mind.

The fan-shaped beige lighting breathed life into the painting. The fish’s splendid tails seemed to flutter gently. It looked just like Kwon Siyul’s long, loose clothing fluttering with each step he took.

These days, no matter what he did, thoughts of Kwon Siyul tagged along at the end. A brief conversation they had one night played back in his mind as if someone had pressed the replay button.

‘What about art galleries?’

‘I’ve never been to one.’

Kwon Siyul hadn’t experienced many things in his entire lifetime. His only memory of exercise was running in the schoolyard, and he had never even once been to a performance.

That wasn’t sad. Ridiculously, Woo Hyunse liked this aspect a whole lot. Whenever Kwon Siyul experienced something new in the future, he would always be embedded in that first memory. Even if he did something with someone else, Woo Hyunse would follow along like those fishtails. Just as Kwon Siyul came to mind no matter what painting he looked at now, Kwon Siyul too would have Woo Hyunse attached to everything he did.

‘Shall we go next time?’

‘If it’s with you…’

Did he seek sleep, burrowing into the warmth while overcome with drowsiness? Woo Hyunse’s consistently indifferent face softened slightly remembering how his lover had looked that night. Thinking these thoughts, his eyes curved gently, and a faint fragrant scent emanated from his body. Of course, this was unnoticeable to Woo Gibbeum, a Beta.

Since that night on the trip, whenever he held Kwon Siyul, his pheromones would unconsciously flood out of his body. Previously, he would restrain them out of habit, but now he didn’t bother. After all, no matter how much he released, the other party wouldn’t be able to tell.

“I’m putting this under your name.”

“I never said I’d buy it.”

“I’m going to send it in your name.”

Her domineering attitude was at a level that would invite criticism if she weren’t the daughter of Congressman Woo. Woo Hyunse responded indifferently with “Do as you please” and turned around. Ignoring her instruction to take a look around, he was about to leave when he thought of something. He paused briefly, saying “Ah,” and turned back, addressing her as “Ms. Woo Gibbeum” as if meeting her for the first time. Woo Gibbeum furrowed her well-groomed eyebrows and looked back.

“Keep your meddling to this point. I won’t accept it anymore.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you once because you’re still my sister, in name at least.”

“…”

“The old man still doesn’t know what you’ve embezzled, right? You’re quite skillful.”

Woo Gibbeum widened her eyes accusingly as if to ask how he knew about that. Then she quickly narrowed them and curled up one corner of her mouth.

“That’s quite an elegant warning, you bastard.”

Despite hearing the sharp insult, Woo Hyunse simply laughed, “Haha.” It was a fresh and kind smile for someone who had just threatened to cut off her leash.

* * *

Woo Taeju frequented the bar as if he were a mouse scurrying in and out of a haystack. While it was one thing for regular customers to come a few times a week, Woo Taeju visited daily, to the point where people would miss him if he missed a day. He would sit at the bar, order drinks, chat with the bartender, and if it looked busy, he’d roll up his sleeves and offer to help out.

Even when Kwon Siyul would say, “I’ll do it. You shouldn’t work, you’re a customer,” Woo Taeju would simply respond, “Come on, everyone knows me here. Just give me a little service later,” winking and moving around even more busily and quickly than Kwon Siyul. Even the manager left him alone, so Kwon Siyul stepped back, realizing it would look odd if he tried to stop him.

Woo Taeju had already memorized the entire menu and knew how to take orders. When asked how he became so proficient without formal training, he said he learned by watching over Kwon Siyul’s shoulder. The manager, who had been observing Woo Taeju in action, once casually asked, “Is it okay for you to be here like this?”

“It’s vacation, so I have nothing else to do.”

“Didn’t you usually go abroad during vacations?”

“Can’t this time because I’m broke. My mom cut off my allowance. I was planning to go snowboarding at Whistler.”

He then hunched his large frame and pretended to cry, “Boo-hoo.” It seemed like he was asking for work. The manager covered her mouth and laughed, pretending not to understand his intention.

“Should we open the windows for a bit? The air feels a little stuffy.”

The manager spoke up during a lull when all the customers had left. Although the ventilator was on, it wasn’t effectively clearing the air, so opening the windows for ventilation was better. Kwon Siyul responded with a “Yes” and scurried to the window. Despite the reports of a cold wave, the air that touched his cheeks felt like blades made of ice.

The sudden cold air tickled his nose, and he eventually sneezed, “Achoo!” He barely managed to cover it with his arm and was moving to the next window when he realized Woo Taeju was already next to him.

“I’ll open the rest. You should clear that table over there.”

“No, I can do this.”

“You’ll catch a cold if you breathe in the cold air. Go on.”

With Woo Taeju even pushing his back, Kwon Siyul was left with no other choice but to tend to the table. On his way back with a mountain of dishes, the bartender spoke to Kwon Siyul, who was sniffling.

“Are you okay? I heard the flu is going around these days. You might have caught it.”

“No, it’s just a momentary sneeze.”

Kwon Siyul responded with a broad smile to the concerned bartender and then rubbed his arms. Perhaps because he was wearing thin clothes indoors, goosebumps rose on his skin from the penetrating chill. His throat felt scratchy and seemed to ache as if something was poking their finger at it.

Could it really be a cold?

Kwon Siyul forcibly swallowed a cough that was threatening to escape. His body had been a bit off since returning from the camping trip. He kept getting feverish. Maybe it was because he had opened the window in the car after rolling around, complaining of the heat. He wondered if he had caught a cold from the chilly wind then. But the symptoms he had come down with seemed different from a typical cold.

He would be fine in the morning, but once he came out to work, his body would gradually heat up. He wasn’t dizzy or nauseous, but his movements were slower than usual, and when he touched his forehead, there was always a mild fever. His nose wasn’t congested.

In fact, his sense of smell had become more sensitive than before. The perfumes of customers smelled stronger than usual, and occasionally he caught scents that were difficult to describe. These were smells that his body seemed to recognize before his nose did. When he asked others about these unfamiliar scents, they said they couldn’t smell anything.

If this condition persisted, he would consider going to the hospital, but all symptoms disappeared once he got home. The fever subsided, and his nose returned to normal. It was a condition perfect for being accused of feigning illness if he mentioned it anywhere else, so Kwon Siyul kept his mouth shut.

This will pass eventually.

Kwon Siyul proceeded to carry the dishes into the kitchen without showing any signs of discomfort. He couldn’t really say he was sick over something like this. In truth, Kwon Siyul had learned to swallow his words about being sick rather than voice them. Although he grew up in a decent orphanage under a good director, it was impossible for all the children to receive equal love and attention. Younger and weaker children were prioritized, so even if he said he was sick, he would often receive just a single pill rather than ample care.

As a result, Kwon Siyul had developed a habit of enduring illness silently. Only Kwon Yuwon, who was always by his side, would notice—most others would pass by totally unaware that Kwon Siyul was even suffering.