SWAP 57

Faced with an unyielding attitude that left no room for compromise, Saheon froze as Seoul reached out, pried his hand open, and pressed the corporate card into it. Seoul then climbed into the back seat. Even as he closed the door and buckled his belt, he didn’t look out the window once, displaying a level of firmness quite unlike his usual self. After tidying his crumpled clothes, Seoul spoke toward the front seat in a calm voice.

“Let’s go.”

“……”

The ones left in a bind were Yun Hyeok and Ye Juyeol, who were already huddled quietly in the driver and passenger seats. They started the engine since they were told to go, but they couldn’t bring themselves to actually move, their hands merely fidgeting with the steering wheel.

Why?

One only had to turn their head and look out the window.

Because of his height, they couldn’t even see his face or shoulders, but they could intuitively sense that Seo Saheon, standing there stock-still, was staring intensely into the car.

The man stood firm like a Grim Reaper right next to the vehicle that was supposed to depart, looking as though he might call out their names for the Book of the Dead if they dared to pull away. The weight of that unseen gaze was enough to make the backs of their heads prickle. It felt like he might grab the door handle and rattle it—clack-clack-clack—at any second.

Yun Hyeok barely managed to pull back his finger, which had almost instinctively engaged the child lock. He had finished his workout in a good mood, and he couldn’t understand why he was suddenly filming a thriller.

Sigh, if only I had kept the car keys on me.

Entrusting the locker room keys to the production crew for fear of losing them had been a fatal mistake.

Regardless of his regrets, Seo Saheon had already been exchanged. Yun Hyeok stole a glance through the rearview mirror at Seoul, who had cut Saheon off so mercilessly, and their eyes happened to meet. Perhaps finding it strange that they weren’t moving despite the wait, Seoul, after a moment of silent eye contact, spoke as if he had realized something.

“Oh, should I drive? Your arms must be sore.”

“What? Oh, no… it’s not that bad. I’m fine.”

When Seoul acted as if he were about to take the wheel, belatedly remembering that his companion had barely passed Level 2, a startled Yun Hyeok hurried to deny it. While it was true he had made a fuss to Ye Juyeol about his arms being “pumped,” he wasn’t in such a state that he couldn’t drive. Shaking his head vigorously, he waited a moment before asking in a trembling voice.

“It’s not that, it’s just… are you sure we can really leave…?”

“Hmm?”

“In the back….”

Slowly, his eyes in the rearview mirror drifted toward the back seat window before quickly darting away. He looked like someone who had spotted a vengeful spirit invisible to others.

At that, Seoul swallowed a silent sigh. He was trying his best to pretend otherwise, but since the side of his face was being pierced in real-time, there was no way he didn’t know. However, he knew that if their eyes met even for a split second, he would lose his advantage, so he exerted every effort not to check. It was even more so because he could roughly guess what kind of expression Saheon was wearing.

Truthfully, Seoul wasn’t exactly feeling at ease either.

But rules were rules, and since he recognized that an exchange couldn’t be undone once made, he braced his resolve.

Seoul had done his homework, reviewing previous seasons of the show. Since the program’s format was all about exchanging and being exchanged, he had learned that the key was how the cast members reacted immediately afterward. He realized that rather than being overly apologetic or lingering, it was better for the narrative to tease the other person and make a clean getaway.

Even though variety shows weren’t based on a scenario, Seoul, who had spent his entire life reading scripts, made a decision.

Let’s be as cold as possible.

Since I won’t be able to be truly cold anyway, let’s at least pretend.

Having finished his self-assessment—knowing he would be easily swayed otherwise—he spoke while forcing strength into his eyes.

“It’s fine, just go.”

“Okay….”

With the party involved speaking like that, Yun Hyeok had no grounds to protest further. After exchanging a silent look with Ye Juyeol in the passenger seat, he stepped on the accelerator, carefully adjusting the angle to pull the car out without hitting Saheon. The moment they successfully cleared the spot, he let out a sigh of relief and glanced at the rearview mirror.

Upon seeing something, Yun Hyeok’s face turned pale, and he began to drive toward the exit with sudden urgency.

It was because his eyes had met Seo Saheon’s, whose face was so terrifying it redefined the word “glare.”

It was a sight that would sincerely haunt his dreams. Even though it was impossible, it felt as if Seo Saheon would leap forward and catch up to the vehicle. Yun Hyeok gritted his teeth and turned the steering wheel. As the car sped away as if ready to leave skid marks, escaping toward the surface, the only ones left in the parking lot were Seo Saheon and the production crew.

Silence hung in the dark, vast space for a while.

Even after the car left, Seo Saheon did not move from his spot.

The production crew, who needed to follow the cast members who had left first, began to stir as they felt strangely self-conscious. Seeing his back as he stood there like his roots were planted in the floor, staring only at the exit, they couldn’t help but recall those pre-interviews.

‘So please, everyone, help me. So I don’t get abandoned.’

The request made by that cold man who seemed afraid of nothing, as he had slightly lowered his posture to utter those final words.

Recalling that, those broad shoulders oddly weighed on their hearts.

While it was true they had engaged in a heated glaring contest with him to get revenge, they hadn’t expected Seoul to just drive off like that, so they were flustered as well. The extra hand-cam they had prepared felt awkward, and they only exchanged glances. They had prepared it for a “youth movie” vibe, assuming the two would walk together, but everything was ruined….

While they were wallowing in frustration, unable to do anything, a sound broke the silence.

Creaaak. Along with the sound of a door opening, footsteps began to approach from somewhere.

The one who reacted first to the presence nearby wasn’t the production crew, but Seo Saheon, who hadn’t moved a muscle as if he had become a stone statue.

Whish. He snapped his head around to find Seoul standing there—the one who had supposedly disappeared in the car earlier. Seoul, having come down through the glass door leading from the first floor, looked at Saheon with a bewildered expression and asked.

“…What? Why are you still here instead of coming up?”

“……”

Seoul added that he almost left because he thought Saheon might have already gone ahead, but he soon fell silent as something felt strange. It was because Saheon, whom he expected would come running at once, was staring at him without moving an inch. Wait, is he glaring at me…? Since he usually looked at things in a positive light, Seoul couldn’t quite tell, so he tilted his head and trotted over to stand in front of Saheon.

“Why the reaction? I was going to leave, but I stopped the car and came back.”

“……”

“You are glaring at me, aren’t you.”

“……”

“Surely you aren’t mad about the exchange? Are you sulking because I was the only one in the car?”

He asked several questions, but for some reason, there was no answer. Looking at Saheon, who only stared at him intensely with his mouth shut, Seoul let out a sigh. He hoped it wasn’t the case, but he knew exactly that those were the reasons. However, he had nothing to say. He was the one who had come back because it was weighing on him, too.

Seoul had left with a firm resolve, but in the end, not even a few minutes had passed before he asked to be let out.

It was because the scenery outside the window looked particularly scorching today.

Others might say, “What are you talking about? The weather is just nice,” but the thought of him walking out there alone caused Seoul’s will to snap instantly. Even to himself, it felt like an over-the-top reaction, but he couldn’t help it.

In the end, before they had even gone one block, he got out in front of the center. After waving goodbye and telling the others to eat lunch together, he had waited for Saheon to come out, and when there was no sign of him, he had come down to the parking lot just in case.

But he won’t say a single word.

Feeling a bit awkward at this point, Seoul tapped the tip of his foot against the floor and asked hesitantly.

“…Um, should I go back?”

“Don’t you dare.”

A fierce reply followed before the sentence was even finished. His dark eyes flashed as if to say just try leaving. The production crew nearby were even more startled. They were restless, thinking he might actually strike someone, but Seoul, facing it head-on, merely muttered like a sigh with a calm face.

“Then give me an answer or something.”

“I was abandoned; what am I supposed to say.”

“Again, again. Why do you keep saying you were abandoned? Are you an object? To be abandoned on the street?”

“……”

Then he shut his mouth again. Wondering what they were doing—they weren’t elementary schoolers—Seoul bit his lip and eventually let out a small sigh. He already knew there was no point in bickering over this… and truthfully, Seoul had seen it right before leaving the parking lot. Saheon, standing there all alone as if he really had been deserted.

So once again, his heart weakened, and he had no choice but to fold.

“I didn’t abandon you, I dropped you by mistake. That’s why I came back to pick you up.”

“……”

“Here. I found you.”

Seoul even performed a little gesture as if he had accidentally dropped something and tapped Saheon’s shoulder. Saheon stared at it for a moment and spoke with a crooked face.

“If you found me, you should hold me with your hand.”