Chapter 123

The lingering sensation on his forehead made the world seem to flip upside down.

“M—”

...crazy?

Gyeol barely managed to swallow the word before it escaped. Barely.

Cold sweat slid down his spine as the realization hit him—he'd almost talked himself straight into disaster with a careless slip of the tongue.

“...I don't, but I'll be right back.”

Somehow piecing the sentence together, Gyeol turned and left the private room without looking back. As the door swung shut behind him, he thought he heard Yo Han let out a low chuckle, but his mind was so scrambled he couldn't be certain.

As befitted a VIP room, even the restroom was tucked away down a private hallway where no other guests wandered. Gyeol strode inside, locked the door, finally let out the breath he'd been holding, leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor.

"'I'm sorry'? Sorry for what? God..."

Damn it.

Out of everything he could have come up with, I'm sorry, but I'll be right back? Even to his own ears it had sounded painfully awkward.

Burying his burning face in both hands, Gyeol let out a muffled groan. His cheeks felt hot against his palms, making the embarrassment even worse.

"That man's insane... He's seriously out of his mind... That lunatic..."

The words slipped out under his breath, but halfway through, a wave of self-awareness crashed over him.

Was he talking about Yo Han...

...or himself?

Is Yo Han really the only crazy one here?

Gyeol Go. If you were going to get drunk, couldn't you at least have gotten drunk like a normal person? You actually did something like that?

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

Pressing the back of his hand against his forehead, Gyeol forced himself to breathe.

Think.

Calmly. Rationally.

There was nothing strange about being shaken by memories that had surfaced only now.

After all, he'd done something completely unlike himself.

But what about Yo Han?

Yo Han remembered every bit of it, didn't he?

After kissing him over and over, after hovering on the edge of crossing the line, after whispering sweet promises about what would come next...

...Yo Han had never contacted him once.

Then, the moment filming began, he'd flipped like someone turning over the palm of a hand.

He'd looked at Gyeol with icy contempt.

He'd spoken nothing but scorn.

The thought settled over him like a bucket of cold water, and Gyeol's brow slowly furrowed.

...Right.

None of that just disappears.

And that wasn't all.

Even after arriving on Pheromone Island, Yo Han had continued tormenting him.

He'd used Yuli as leverage to threaten him.

He'd toyed with him through reckless remarks.

Knowing full well the cameras were rolling, he'd cornered him with impossible conditions until there was nowhere left to retreat.

It's true... He's saved me more than once. He's helped me. Even today.

But...

Even if Yo Han started acting as gently as he had in the beginning again—treating him with effortless warmth as though nothing had happened—it wouldn't erase everything that had accumulated between them.

Neither would it erase the hurt.

Or the shock he'd inflicted.

"..."

Still...

By now, one realization had finally taken shape.

Why every word Yo Han spoke carried such devastating weight.

Why a single look from him could make Gyeol's chest ache.

Why every action left him shaken.

Why the open displays of malice—as though Gyeol wasn't even worth hiding them from—had wounded him over and over again.

Because he'd expected something.

Somewhere along the way...

Gyeol Go had started expecting something from Yo Han Sung.

Only now did he finally realize it.

Strictly speaking, Gyeol wasn't someone with thin skin.

He was the type who appeared gentle on the outside but was stubbornly resilient underneath. He'd entered the entertainment industry as a trainee at one of the country's biggest agencies while he was still young, and over the years he'd been knocked down, stepped on, and beaten around enough times to build a thick hide.

There were hierarchies everywhere.

Inside the agency, trainees had their own pecking order.

After debut, rookie idols competed against one another.

As the years passed, he eventually realized he'd settled near the bottom of the industry's food chain.

Competition existed everywhere, and among those sitting at the top were countless people who were arrogant and self-indulgent—whether from celebrity syndrome or because that was simply who they were.

People who threw tantrums to abuse their power.

Who gaslit others.

Who picked fights right to someone's face for the sheer pleasure of it.

Gyeol had always been an easy target.

Being the sort of person who inspired both obsessive fans and obsessive haters wasn't something limited to fandom.

The same instincts existed in the acting world.

From Gyeol's perspective, actors were often even harder to deal with than idols.

Unlike singers, who inevitably interacted directly with fans on stage, actors lived behind the camera, reaching audiences only through editing.

Perhaps because of that, there were more introverted personalities in acting than in the music industry.

Not everyone was like that, of course.

But Gyeol had encountered more than enough people who concealed their emotions behind polite smiles, quietly mocked others, tormented them, and derived genuine satisfaction from it.

They looked at him through prejudiced eyes.

An idol.

Worse, a failed idol.

When a lead actor made a mistake during a scene, it wasn't unusual for them to subtly shift the blame onto Gyeol instead.

If another actor did it, he could simply grit his teeth and endure until filming wrapped.

But when the director or producer took a dislike to someone...

That was when things became truly difficult.

Whenever stress from a production needed an outlet, the target was almost always a supporting actor—or an extra.

At times like those, Gyeol, trapped in the uncomfortable middle, became the convenient scapegoat.

Just as he'd been with director Lee Sanghwi on Unconventional Love Story.

So contempt wasn't unfamiliar to him.

The moment itself could hurt.

But he'd never been wounded by those people as individuals.

Because he'd never expected anything from them to begin with.

They were only passing through his life.

But Yo Han...

Yo Han was different.

...I expected something.

Because the man he'd admired...

...had lowered his gaze to meet his.

Because Gyeol had believed they'd grown closer.

Because Yo Han had smiled at him.

Looked at him with warmth.

Whispered sweet promises about the future.

That man... Yo Han Sung...

Hidden beneath the drunken confession—

It feels like you like me...

—had been the words he hadn't said aloud.

...I was the one who started wavering.

If I'm wrong... then stop now.

Because I think... I'm going to fall for you too.

Plink.

A single drop of water fell into the sink, the quiet sound echoing through the empty restroom.

Gyeol pushed himself to his feet.

He washed his hands under cold water before pressing his chilled palms against the back of his neck, letting the coolness steady him as he looked into the mirror.

A neat, composed version of Gyeol Go stared back.

Meeting his own eyes, he spoke to his reflection like a warning.

"Don't overcomplicate this."

There was only one thing he needed to remember.

"I don't want to be swept around anymore."

Looking straight into his own eyes, he continued quietly,

"Remember why you're here, Gyeol Go."

This time...

He would be the one holding the reins.

***

The moment he pushed open the heavy door, a shadow fell across him.

"Ah."

Standing directly in front of him, Yo Han looked down with a quiet hum.

One hand still rested on the doorknob, as though he'd been about to open it from the inside.

"Were you on your way to the restroom?"

Smiling, Gyeol stepped aside to let him pass.

"No."

Yo Han answered as he pulled the door wider.

"I was getting worried something had happened."

"So you were coming to look for me."

"...Something like that."

"You're very kind."

For a split second, surprise flickered across Yo Han's face.

Then his brows drew together almost imperceptibly.

As always, he noticed everything.

Too perceptive.

Too sensitive.

Gyeol simply smiled back before returning to the table.

He chose the same seat as before.

Instead of moving across from him, he deliberately sat beside Yo Han again.

As Yo Han settled into the chair next to him, he asked quietly,

"You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"No. I'm fine."

The appetizers on both plates remained untouched.

"You should've started without me."

"I'd rather eat together."

The words were little more than polite fiction.

Picking up his wineglass, Gyeol watched the pale golden white wine ripple inside it.

Yo Han seemed quietly confused.

He hid it well, but every so often his eyes wandered over Gyeol's face, studying him as though trying to solve a puzzle.

Finally, he looked away.

Lifting his own glass, he clinked it gently against Gyeol's.

Turning his head in the opposite direction, he drained half the wine before the two of them began eating side by side.

Contrary to Gyeol's worries that he'd be too distracted to taste anything, every dish was excellent.

The wine pairing was impeccable.

The conversation started awkwardly...

...but the moment it drifted toward acting, everything relaxed naturally.

One course followed another.

They talked about the food.

Then about acting again.

The wine kept flowing, and before long a pleasant warmth spread through Gyeol.

"I'd really like to see you in a sports drama someday."

"A sports drama?"

"Yeah."

Gyeol tore the bread that had come with the meal neatly in half.

"Not just anyone can pull one off. After watching you lately... you're a great swimmer, and you seem like a really good runner too."

Then—

Almost casually—

He rested his head against Yo Han's shoulder.

It wasn't unconscious.

He'd timed it perfectly.

It was deliberate.

A calculated provocation.

He wanted to draw Yo Han out.

To see what lay beneath that carefully controlled expression.

He felt the muscles in Yo °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Han's shoulder go rigid beneath his temple.

Without moving away, Gyeol tipped his head back and held one half of the bread toward Yo Han's lips.

"So?"

"...I think I'd like that."

"Really?"

A faint smile curved Gyeol's lips.

Yo Han's gaze settled on him.

Yet his mouth never opened.

"It isn't poisoned."

With exaggerated innocence, Gyeol parted his flushed lips and popped the remaining half of the bread into his own mouth.

Yo Han remained motionless for a moment.

Then, as if reluctantly conceding, he accepted the piece Gyeol was offering and took a bite.

"Are you drunk?"

It would have been a lie to say he wasn't.

But the important part...

...was that he'd been drinking on purpose.

"Mm..."

Gyeol smiled drowsily, his cheeks flushed pink.

"I don't know."

Yo Han carefully brushed Gyeol's bangs aside with the tips of his fingers.

His fingers skimmed lightly across Gyeol's forehead.

Gyeol lowered his eyes.

When Yo Han's hand slowly withdrew, he opened them again.

Then he looked straight at him.

"Do I look drunk, big brother?"