LM 8

“I need to use the bathroom too.”

“You’ll go when the boss returns.”

“I feel like my bladder’s about to burst.”

“Piss here then. Isn’t an Omega’s d1ck supposed to be tiny? Let’s have a look while we’re at it.”

One of them snickered, holding an empty bottle to Yuwon’s lower body. The other had somehow produced an unsheathed knife. Fearing trouble if he moved carelessly, Yuwon just clenched his fists tightly.

He tried to make a phone call, but one of the men forcibly took his phone and smashed its corner on the table. The cracked phone was then tossed into an ice bucket. Their gleaming eyes warned that they’d seize on any excuse to rough him up if he so much as opened his mouth.

Yuwon kept his mouth shut and surveyed his surroundings. He was ready to crack their skulls with a liquor bottle if necessary. He marked the positions of the bottles and the exit, waiting for an opportunity.

Time passed anxiously. His worry peaked, feeling that if he delayed any longer, something terrible might happen to Siyul. Just as he was resolving to escape even if it meant killing these bastards, a miraculous knock came at the door. A man as big as the door itself entered.

“I’m sorry, sir, but your reservation time is up. Please vacate for the next guests.”

The voice was polite, but the message was clear: get out. Naturally, the men didn’t take it well.

“What the fvck?”

“Is there someone named Kwon Yuwon here?”

Kwon Yuwon stood up hesitantly. The man seemed to confirm Yuwon’s face, then stood with his hands behind his back.

“I apologize again, but your time is up. Please leave now.”

His voice, devoid of any real apology, was more of an order than a request. The men stood up, scowling fiercely. One gripped a liquor bottle, the other held his knife. The big man sighed quietly, inaudible to others, and dropped his hands to his sides.

There was a crash as all the dishes on the table fell to the floor, but the commotion was brief. The big man subdued the two men as easily as twisting a child’s wrist. He left the writhing men to other large men who had appeared, then looked at Yuwon.

“Please wait a moment. We’ll guide you out through the back door soon.”

Siyul’s eyes sparkled as he listened to Yuwon’s story. The man, Woo Hyunse, hadn’t lied. He had kept Yuwon safe.

“So I got out safely. I spent all night wandering around in case those bastards were tailing me, that’s why I couldn’t come home. And I couldn’t contact you because my phone was broken.”

Now it all made sense. Siyul grinned broadly after hearing the whole story. He was grateful to the man and relieved that nothing had happened to Yuwon.

“So everything’s okay now?”

Seeing Siyul’s bright smile, Yuwon couldn’t help but smile back. He knew there were mountains of problems to solve, but he didn’t want to show it in front of Siyul.

“Yeah. So don’t worry. And don’t go wandering around for a while, take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

Finding Siyul cute, Yuwon messed up his hair thoroughly. Siyul didn’t mind his hair becoming a bird’s nest and snuggled into Yuwon’s embrace. He was just immensely relieved that Yuwon had returned unharmed.

* * *

After that incident, their business came to a complete halt. The despicable pig ignored Yuwon’s contacts, as if seeking revenge. Yuwon tried hard to mend the relationship, but it was hopeless. One day he returned home, his face flushed red and blue, having emptied a whole bottle of strong soju despite his usual limit being just half a bottle.

“I’ll definitely plant a grenade in that bastard’s gut someday.”

He spat out, burning with anger. Even when Siyul asked what happened, Yuwon just muttered curses and kept his mouth shut about the question. Siyul could only guess. The pig must have proposed very unfavorable terms, he thought.

The trade strike, which seemed like it would end quickly, lasted longer than expected. Since they had been sending a significant portion of their income to the orphanage, their funds soon hit rock bottom. The next month’s rent was now an urgent matter.

Siyul glanced at Yuwon. He was crouched in a corner like a shut-in, staring at his newly bought cheap phone. He hadn’t been sleeping properly, so his eyes were sunken, and his usually neat hair was greasy from not washing.

Judging by his state, it would be a while before he returned to normal. Since childhood, Yuwon would occasionally retreat into this state for days when things didn’t go his way. Knowing that he would eventually crawl out on his own, Siyul wasn’t too worried.

However, the situation was too dire to just sit idly by. If they waited any longer, they’d both end up in rags. Now, Siyul was the only one to rely on. At least until Yuwon came back to his senses, Siyul had to be the head of this household.

He immediately jumped into the part-time job market. But the world wasn’t kind. As if “incompetent” was written on his face, he was rejected at every interview he went to. Places that said they’d contact him never did, and when he followed up, they all said they’d found more suitable candidates.

Reality was cold to a beta with only a high school diploma, an orphan background, and barely a line or two of work experience on his resume.

After yet another failed job interview, Siyul stopped by a park on his way home. While dark clouds filled his mind, the weather was cruelly beautiful. The sky was cloudless, a cool breeze touched his nape. Trees welcoming autumn had changed into red and yellow clothes, making the world colorful and beautiful. Only his life, unlike the weather, was miserable.

“Ah, life…”

He lamented, but he couldn’t give up here. Sitting on a bench, Siyul rubbed his face to clear his mind and picked up his phone. He was about to apply for a daily loading/unloading job. It would be hard work, but surely a healthy young man could handle physical labor.

Just as he was about to submit the form, the screen suddenly changed, and a name appeared at the top. Startled as if a caterpillar had fallen on his hand, Siyul tossed the phone into the air. Though it fell to the ground, the phone kept ringing, the name still visible on the screen.

Though it was an older model, it was still precious as the installment payments weren’t finished. Siyul hastily picked up the phone, blew off the dust, and wiped the screen with his sleeve. He desperately hoped he had misread the name, but “Woo Hyunse,” that unforgettable name he’d heard only once, remained firmly there.

“Ah, shit…”

He thought the man wouldn’t contact him.

Maybe if he didn’t answer, the call would just end. Maybe it was a wrong number. Siyul’s leg jittered as he waited for the call to end on its own. The ringing finally stopped, bringing a look of relief to his face, but when it started again after just a few seconds, he dropped his head in gloom.

He had no choice but to answer. With his ID taken, he was in the man’s palm no matter what he did.

“Hello.”

His voice was deflated and tense. Why did it have to be a call? Couldn’t he just send a text? Grumbling internally, Siyul kicked at the ground with his sneaker.

―Oh, you answered? I thought you wouldn’t.

The man who had called twice spoke irritatingly. “Why?” Siyul replied curtly, trailing off at the end.

―You need to pay for the dry cleaning.

“How much is it?”

―The pants are fine, but the shoes… They say they can’t be restored.

“Ah…” Siyul covered his face with one hand. He had vomited an extraordinary amount that day. Having emptied his stomach completely, it was understandable if the shoe leather was beyond salvation. Remembering the particularly glossy shoes, Siyul’s shoulders slumped.

“Then…”

―I’ll have to buy new ones. How much were they again? If I remember correctly, about…

Siyul’s jaw dropped at the price of the shoes. For someone who always wore sneakers from the market that cost no more than three bills, it was an unattainable price. “You’re lying,” he blurted out without thinking. The man replied that he wasn’t, and offered to send proof if Siyul didn’t believe him.

“Really?”

―Why would I bother lying to you?

The man emphasized. Even if it was a lie, Siyul had to pay because of his guilt and fear of what the man might do. Though they were talking normally now, Siyul vividly remembered the man’s words and actions from their first meeting.

His stomach already felt as if the man had poured a spoonful of concrete into it. Rubbing his belly in circles, Siyul pleaded through the phone.

“Can’t you cut me some slack? I don’t have a single penny right now.”

―That’s troublesome for me too. They were my favorites.

“I’m not saying I won’t pay, it’s just difficult right now. I’ve lost my job, and I don’t even have money for food. But I’ll definitely pay you back, even if I have to work in a factory.”

―What should I trust about you? What if you say you’re going to work in a factory and then run away?