Chapter 64
⚠️ contains sensitive content not R18⚠️
The heavy glass doors of the agency building hissed shut behind Haru, leaving him on the bustling Seoul sidewalk. The air was thick with the scent of exhaust , a jarring contrast to the sterile, coffee-scented tension of Alice's office. His heart was still hammering against his ribs from the confession he had just leveled at her. To steady his nerves and reward himself for surviving the ordeal, he ducked into a nearby shop to buy a large cup of frozen yogurt.
As he wandered down the street, spooning the tart treat into his mouth, he felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere - that unmistakable prickle of being watched.
"Excuse me? Are you... Haru?"
A young woman stood a few feet away, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Haru paused, offering a polite, slightly shy smile as he lowered his spoon. Before he could even confirm, she let out a small, muffled gasp.
"I knew it! Oh my gosh, I'm such a big fan," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I've been following all the updates for Gyeongseong High. I'm really, really rooting for you. You're going to be amazing."
"Thank you so much," Haru replied, his voice dropping into that warm, resonant register that seemed to make the fan's blush deepen. "That means a lot to me. It was a tough shoot, but I hope everyone enjoys it."
She asked politely for a photo, and Haru complied, leaning in to fit into the frame of her phone. They talked for another minute - she was kind, respectful, and genuinely enthusiastic. It was a refreshing reminder of why he was doing this. In the 90s, fan interactions had felt more formal and usual, but this felt direct and personal. After she thanked him a dozen more times and scurried off to tell her friends, Haru finished his yogurt and headed toward the subway.
The journey home felt longer than usual. When he finally turned the key in his lock, the apartment was no longer silent. The smell of fresh rice and the sound of rustling plastic filled the small space.
"Se-hee?"
"Haru-ya!"
Se-hee emerged from her bedroom, her hair a chaotic mess and a bright, triumphant grin on her face. She looked sun-kissed and exhausted, but her energy was as infectious as ever. She lunged forward, catching him in a tight, bone-crushing hug that smelled like the countryside and fresh air.
"I missed you! Tell me you didn't starve while I was gone," she teased, pulling back to scan his face.
"I managed," he laughed, setting his bag down.
The next few hours were a blur of energy. Haru rolled up his sleeves and helped her unpack the mountain of bags she had brought back from her rice-farming immersion trip. Se-hee was a whirlwind of stories, describing the mud, the traditional techniques, and the stubborn elderly farmers who had eventually taken a liking to her.
Haru listened, his hands busy folding her clothes.
"So," Se-hee said, her voice dropping as they finally cleared the last of the suitcases.
They were sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, waiting for the arrival of the fried chicken they had ordered. "Stop distracting me with my own stories. How was the trip? How was Milan?"
Haru felt a sudden, traitorous heat crawl up his neck. He adjusted his collar instinctively, feeling the faint, sensitive sting of the marks that still peppered his skin - blistering reminders of Raiven's intensity that were hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt.
"It was... it was good," he said, his voice a fraction too high.
Se-hee squinted at him, her head tilting like a hawk spotting movement in the grass. She looked at him suspiciously, her eyes lingering on the way he was avoiding her gaze. Then, with a knowing hum, she looked away, but the smirk remained on her lips.
Haru took a deep breath. He had told Alice because it was a professional necessity, but he wanted to tell Se-hee because she had quickly become an important part of his life. She was the one who had pushed him to go in the first place.
"We are dating," he said.
The words were casual, brief, and dropped into the air like a stone into a still pond.
Se-hee froze. She was mid-motion, holding a small ceramic statue she had bought as a souvenir, about to place it on the display stand. She stayed like that for a full three seconds, paralyzed by the weight of the sentence. Then, the statue was abandoned- haphazardly shoved onto the stand as she completely forgot her earlier task of finding the "perfect" spot for it.
"Aaaaaahhh!"
She let out a piercing, glass-shattering scream, jumping up and down on the spot. Her feet thudded against the floor with enough force to it rattle. She lunged for him, grabbing his hands and pulling him up with her.
"It's about time!" she squealed, her face flushed with pure, unadulterated joy. She threw her arms around him again, squeezing so hard he could barely breathe. "I am so happy for you, Haru! Oh my god, I knew it! Sugarbaby!" She teased.
Sunghoon smiled into her hair, returning the hug. Beneath the 'Haru' mask, his soul felt a profound wave of gratitude. Haru truly was fortunate to have a friend like her - someone who celebrated his happiness as if it were her own.
"Tell me everything," she demanded, dragging him back down to the floor. She crossed her legs in front of him, leaning forward with her chin in her hands, her eyes wide with anticipation. "I want the play-by-play. How did it happen? Who said what? Don't you dare skip the details!"
Haru cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy. "Well... I gave him the cake. I asked him to date me. He said yes."
Se-hee's face transformed into a scowl of pure betrayal. "Are you seriously going to gatekeep this from me? When I was the one who practically bought your plane ticket?! When I gave you the idea to go there?!" Her voice dropped into a low, dramatic register.
"You're breaking my heart, Haru. I need more than a three-sentence summary."
"That's all there was," he said defensively, though his blushing ears betrayed him. "It wasn't anything special. We just talked, and then we... agreed."
Se-hee frowned, her eyes narrowing as she performed a mental autopsy on his expression. She knew he was holding back the real story. "Did you two kiss?" she asked, biting her lip excitedly.
The heat rushed into Haru's neck again, a fierce, burning red. He looked away, unable to maintain eye contact, and gave a small, jerky nod of his head.
Se-hee let out another high-pitched squeal, jumping around the room again. Haru looked at the ceiling, certain that the landlord would be knocking on their door any second to complain about the noise from the floor below. He couldn't tell her that they had done much more than kiss. He couldn't describe the absolute, magical surrender of the night, or the way Raiven had dismantled him with such predatory tenderness.
In the quiet moments before he had landed in Milan, Haru had prepared himself for the worst. He had searched for Raiven's scandals on the flight, finding nothing but fan theories and groundless speculations. He had been convinced that Raiven would reject him - that he would say he wasn't ready, or that the six-month pact was still in place. He had half-expected to be kicked out of the hotel room for even daring to dream of it.
But the 'yes' had changed everything. It felt worth the risk, the flight, and the potential scandal. This was his first relationship with a man, and to his surprise, he liked it. He liked the weight of Raiven's body, the taste of his skin, and the protective, possessive instinct that now roared in his chest whenever he thought of him.
However, as the excitement in the room settled, a cold, lingering shadow began to stir in the back of his mind. A thought he had been trying to suppress since the moment they first met.
He wondered if he had done this for the wrong reasons. Was it love that was truly organic, or was it a ghost he was trying to save?
His mind drifted back to 1991. In that era, Sunghoon had a friend named Yeon-woo. The name meant "fragile," and it had suited him perfectly. By that time, Sunghoon was becoming a household name, his face appearing in magazines and his projects gaining critical acclaim. He had been over the moon with his success, but Yeon-woo had been his sanctuary.
Yeon-woo was his most trusted person, a confidant who held secrets Sunghoon didn't even share with his family or his various lovers. Whenever they were together, Sunghoon's heart would race - not with simple lust, but with a deep, consuming happiness. They were so close that people began to whisper, using forbidden words to describe a bond that transcended ' 'friendship.'
Yeon-woo was a star in the world of Changgeuk. His voice was a captivating, ethereal thing that could bring a room to tears. Sunghoon had spent countless nights hidden in the shadows of the opera house, watching Yeon-woo perform. He was beautiful, androgynous, and possessed a grace that frequently caught Sunghoon's breath. Even as Sunghoon's own fame grew, he never stopped attending those shows.
He remembered how Yeon-woo rarely ate. Whenever Sunghoon brought him food, Yeon-woo would offer a small, sad smile and claim his instructor advised against it.
Sunghoon hadn't pushed. He just wanted to share memories. They had watched sunsets together and been caught in summer downpours, laughing as they ran for cover. Yeon-woo had been the only person besides Sunghoon's mother to ever see him break down and cry.
But Sunghoon had never truly understood the look in Yeon-woo's eyes. It was a heavy, dark burden - a look of profound sadness that seemed to swallow the light. It was a look he had seen again the very first time he laid eyes on Raiven. That pang of familiarity had been the catalyst for everything.
The memory shifted to the night Sunghoon won his first major trophy. He had been so elated, so full of life, that he ran straight to the opera house to find Yeon-woo. It was raining - a cold, torrential downpour - but he didn't care.
He found him in the dressing room.
The image was burned into his soul: the crimson blood seeping from Yeon-woo's pale wrists, staining the floor. Sunghoon had screamed until his lungs burned, clutching his cold, silent friend in his arms, cuddling him as if the warmth of his own body could restart a heart that had already stopped. He had wept in agony and anguish, the rain outside mimicking the tears that wouldn't stop falling.
He understood the look then. The realization felt like lead in his stomach.
The look in Yeon-woo's eyes - the look he saw in Raiven - was the look of someone who had already given up on life.