Vol 3 Ch 14

“What is he doing here?”

 

Phillip, smoking a cigarette, turned his head. It was Ashley Lohan.

 

“You smoke?”

 

Instead of answering, Phillip smirked.

 

When she showed up with the boy, especially when he saw her hand on his arm, he honestly thought he wanted to snap her neck.

 

“Well, that’s not unusual. A model student who doesn’t drink during the season. Pass me the light.”

 

With a cigarette in her mouth, she asked Phillip for a light. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and tossed it to her.

 

“What the h**l, why are you so cranky today?”

 

“Hahaha. Is that so?”

 

“The kids were all worried that you were in a bad mood.”

 

Then get the h**l out of here.

 

Phillip leaned back on the terrace, swallowing his cigarette smoke.

 

“Are you serious, by the way?”

 

“What.”

 

“That guy back there. What was his name? White, skinny, freckled….”

 

“…Peter.”

 

“Yeah, Peter. Did you really invite him?”

 

“Well, is there any reason not to?”

 

“No, there’s no reason….”

 

She smiled as she lit a cigarette.

 

“He doesn’t really belong here.”

 

Well, maybe he shouldn’t be in a place like that….”

 

He remembered the boy’s face, wide-eyed and helpless. He felt even dirtier.

 

“It’s kind of sad to see him all white and alone.”

 

She feigned concern, but it wasn’t hard for Phillip to see that she had a sense of entitlement that ran in her family for generations.

 

“Ash.”

 

Phillip tossed his cigarette out onto the terrace and called her affectionately by her nickname.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a racist.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll be sure to tell my mother. I don’t think you’ll be able to attend any more readings with such a deep-seated hatred of Asians.”

 

Phillip’s mother’s book club was an upper-class social gathering, and to be disinvited was a social death sentence.

 

“What are you talking about, Phillip? When did I, wait….”

 

She grabbed his arm. A faint glint of irritation flashed in Phillip’s eyes. But then, with his trademark sweet smile, he placed his hand in Ashley’s.

 

“You know what my mother hates the most?”

 

“…What the h**l you were talking about?”

 

Ashley asked in cold sweat, wanting to ask the man in front of her if he was the Phillip Levin she knew, even though he was smiling, his eerie familiarity was creepy.

 

“Dopes, d**gs, cannabis.”

 

Phillip said, counting on his finger one by one.

 

“What does that have to do with me,” she said in a shaky voice. Phillip leaned in toward her. His broad shoulders added to the intimidation.

 

He put his nose to the nape of her neck, breathed in lightly, and muttered, “You stink.” Ashley looked away in shock.

 

Ashley flushed red with embarrassment and clutched at the nape of her neck. After making the very rude point that she smelled, Phillip smiled nonchalantly.

 

“Just because I’m a model student who doesn’t touch alcohol during the season doesn’t mean I can’t smell weed, dear.”

 

“…….”

 

Phillip patted Ashley on the shoulder and stepped off the balcony.

 

He was smiling, but his head was throbbing. It felt like razor blades were floating through the veins in his head. It had been there since morning. He felt like s**t, so he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the party and leaned back on the couch, praying that the loudmouths next to him would smash their heads in like watermelons.

 

When the impeccably dressed boy appeared in front of him, he opened his eyes and thought he was dreaming. After all, he’s been appearing in his dreams every day lately.

 

If he kisses him with all his clothes off, will he cry again?

 

While he was thinking this, he heard the boy’s voice.

 

“…Hello.”

 

The moment he heard that pathetic voice, Phillip realized that he was in real life and not in a dream. At the same time, he felt a rush of shame.

 

“Ha, really….”

 

Nervous irritation flashed through him. The boy looked at him, unsure of what to do, but he deliberately avoided giving him a glance.

 

It would be nice if all the partying and messing around would just go away.

 

When he came down to the first floor, people started talking to him, pretending to know him. Phillip just smiled and returned to his seat. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

 

As Phillip sat down, Killian blurted out something.

 

“Your friend is gone, hugging the plant like it’s precious.”

 

The others burst out laughing. Phillip didn’t laugh along. Alone in a cold sweat, he was glad the white-knuckled j**k was gone, but he didn’t feel good about it.

 

“Have you seen Fred, by the way? He was looking excitedly into the cabinet filled with your father’s spirits earlier.”

 

“Really?”

 

Phillip replied nonchalantly. It was none of his business if he drank all the liquor in the cabinet and died.

 

“Fred’s still the same anyways. Still running after him.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The one who brought the plants earlier. Fred was upset because he couldn’t get laid for a long time. Hehe, just now, as soon as he saw him, his eyes lit up and you followed him up. I guess the boy didn’t really leave.”

 

“…go.”

 

“What?” asked Kilian, sitting next to Phillip as it was hard to hear over the loud music. The music stopped.

 

“Where the f**k did Fred go?”

 

Phillip’s soft voice cut through the silence. It was clear enough that no one nearby could mishear it. Killian, dazed, pointed to the stairs leading up to the second floor. The music began again. Everyone watched in bewilderment as Phillip strode briskly up the stairs.

 

Phillip yanked open the door to the room closest to the hallway. Two men and a woman, still tangled up, jumped up in alarm. He slammed the door behind him. After doing the same thing a few times, Phillip laughed to himself.

 

What the h**l was he doing?

 

All he heard was that Fred had followed the boy upstairs. Most likely, he’d just taken the pot, returned it, and made some dirty joke. But, just in case….

 

He remembered the boy’s face, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes. Phillip bit his lower lip, swallowing a curse word, and then a thought flashed through his mind and he turned and strode to the innermost room.

 

He yanked the door open.

 

There was no sign of a couple making love in the owner’s room, at least not with a conscience. He was about to close the door again, dismissing the idea, when a tiny sound caught his ear. It was faint, like the cry of a small animal. Phillip closed the door and entered the room. He walked briskly and turned the doorknob of the attached bathroom. It was locked.

 

Phillip knocked lightly on the door a couple of times. There was no answer from inside. Phillip smirked. Taking a step back, he kicked the door. B**g. The doorknob shattered with a loud crack, and the door swung open. A figure peeked through the crack. It was a boy. His pants pulled down, his mouth clamped shut by a large hand, his face a battered mess.

 

“Oh, hey…, it’s, it’s a misunderstanding….”

 

Fred stammered, pulling up the pants he was about to pull down. Under Phillip’s gaze, Fred removed his hand from the boy’s clenched mouth. The boy let out a choked sob and gasped for air. Nosebleeds trickled down the boy’s chin.

 

“Hmph…, haah…. Hmph….”

 

Phillip stared down at the boy with expressionless eyes, then looked away.

 

“Haha. No, I mean, this a**hole just jumped on me out of nowhere, so, f**k, this f**got spread his legs for me to f**k him….”

 

The cowardly, sleazy excuse didn’t cut it anymore. Phillip grabbed Fred by the hair and slammed him into the sink.

 

“Ugh!”

 

Blood from his nose splattered everywhere. Fred clutched his nose and screamed, the white porcelain sink splattered with blood. With his nose broken, Fred rolled on the bathroom floor, clutching his face and cursing through his tears.

 

“Hah, s**t, you crazy…, ugh!”

 

The boy remained frozen in place, his face ashen, unable to breathe. Phillip, his expression still unchanged, pulled out a towel and shoved it into Fred’s mouth, who squealed like a castrated pig.

 

“Ugh…, ugh!”

 

Fred spat out the towel in disbelief, and Phillip slapped him across the cheeks with all the force he could muster. With a yelp, the big man fell to the floor.

 

“Ha, ha, ha.”

 

Phillip laughed coldly, then swore. Phillip squatted down in front of Fred and grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look him in the eye. Then, in a low voice, he called his name.

 

“Fred.”

 

“…….”

 

“I may have called you a dog, but that doesn’t give you permission to slobber like one in my bathroom, does it, you fucking a**hole?”

 

The boy gulped and his shoulders slumped at the mention of calling him a dog.

 

Phillip’s softly smiling face was eerie. Nothing about him was real, not his shapely fingers clutching Fred’s bloodied head, not his princely face smiling through the blood, not his elegant voice spitting out double entendres.

 

Fred mumbled something, and Phillip pulled the blood-soaked towel from Fred’s mouth.

 

“…S**t, why am I the only one…, that a**hole got to….”

 

As Fred pointed at the boy and spouted off his excuses, Phillip burst out laughing, genuinely amused. The laughter was crisp, but the air in the bathroom was stale. Phillip dropped his head. His gaze caught a granite object on the bathroom shelf. He smiled coolly and reached for it.

 

The moment,

 

“…No.”

 

The boy clung to Phillip’s arm. Phillip’s eyes widened fiercely.

 

“…He’ll die…, no….”

 

The boy cried and tore at Phillip with all his might. Phillip looked down at the boy, who clung to him with barely any strength.

 

“You’’ll get in trouble, then.”

 

“What trouble. What can I do?”

 

Phillip asked, his eyes blank.

 

“…You can’t…, hmph.”

 

With wide, tear-stained eyes, the boy desperately tried to stop Phillip, while Fred, who had come to his senses, ran out of the bathroom. Once Fred was out of the room, the boy relaxed and sat on the bathroom floor, sobbing.

 

“Ugh… huh…, ugh.”

 

Phillip grabbed the boy’s wrist and dragged him out of the bathroom. When he returned to lock the door and retrieve the medicine cabinet, the boy was clutching his bleeding nose and sobbing.

 

“Hold your head up.”

 

Phillip ordered briefly, but the boy didn’t move.

 

“Raise your head.”

 

At the slightly raised tone, the boy looked up, dazed.

 

His face was swollen from the beating, his cheeks drenched in tears, and he had cuts and torn hems here and there.

 

He didn’t have to ask what had happened. As he poured the disinfectant onto the cotton ball, Phillip cursed under his breath. The boy’s big eyes were glassy and shaky. He shook his head as Phillip tried to apply the medicine.

 

“I, I, …I’ll go home and do it.”

 

“You’re going to go home looking like that?”

 

Phillip asked. The boy nodded stubbornly.

 

“Go later. If you do it now, you’ll be….”

 

“…I want to go.”

 

The tears that had stopped began to trickle again. It was a mess. His battered face was covered in tears, snot, and blood. And it looked fucking beautiful. Phillip was furious. Not at the fact that Fred had touched it, not at the fact that it was never his to begin with. …but most of all, at the fact that it already belonged to someone else.

 

“Because you’re afraid of me?”

 

The boy looked up in surprise. The tears that had been pooling in his large eyes slid down his cheeks in the wind.

 

“Do you want to go home because you’re scared?”

 

Phillip squeezed the boy’s face. The boy shuddered as his thick, blood-stained fingers brushed against his cheek. He felt like he knew the answer even though he hadn’t asked for it.

 

Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a potted plant on the bedside table. The boy had brought it as a gift. He must have come in here to get it.

 

Phillip grabbed the stem of the lavender and slammed it against the table. The plant shattered and scattered to the floor.

 

“Why did you bring that s**t?”

 

The boy looked up at Phillip with a horrified expression on his face.

 

“Who needs this s**t? Who cares if I sleep or not? You’re an a*s, and I don’t fucking care if I….”

 

Shame washed over him.

 

At the arrogance of thinking the boy’s innate gentleness was a sign of affection for him, at the realization that his heart was already elsewhere, at the fact that he couldn’t care less about the countless people who came to celebrate his birthday at the mansion, and all he cared about was this one a**hole in front of him. …At the truth that he was actually scared of him, not in love with him.

 

…For the first time in his life, he felt a tremendous sense of shame.

 

His eyes looked away. Phillip clenched his fists. It was all he could do to keep from strangling the boy right now.

 

“Ah…. There’s blood….”

 

The boy reached for Phillip’s hand, helpless. It was only then that Phillip realized his palm was torn into a mess from clutching the shattered pieces of the pot.

 

“Wait, …wait, …wait, there’s blood …oh no.”

 

The boy pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to Phillip’s hand, but the blood vessels had apparently been torn, and the handkerchief was soon soaked with blood. With a shaky hand, the boy grasped Phillip’s palm and squeezed. The sight of the blood gushing down their wrists made him cry.

 

“What can I do, you need to go to the hospital…, we need to go to the hospital….”

 

Phillip’s patience was short-lived as he watched the boy stumble over his words in shock. The next thing he knew, he was clutching the boy’s head and kissing him.

 

Dream and reality were different. The kisses of his dreams were child’s play compared to this one. He swallowed back a swear word as his lips pressed against the incredibly soft skin. Ferocious greed rose in him. This was not enough.

 

Surprised, Phillip forced the frozen boy’s jaw open. It was a devouring kiss, s**king in his tongue, biting his lip, l**king the inside of his mouth. The boy’s nosebleeds smeared on each other’s faces. It was a mess. He’d never lost his temper like this before, lunging at him in such an ugly way. His fingertips tingled. It was maddeningly good. Phillip tugged at the boy’s hair, pressing their lips together even deeper, pulling up the hem of the boy’s shirt.

 

It was then.

 

“……!”

 

Phillip stared at the boy, dumbfounded. The boy’s face turned a deep shade of blue as he bit down on Phillip’s lips, which surprised him even more.

 

“…No.”

 

The boy mumbled, curled up with his face buried in his knees.

 

I don’t want to do this, I’m going home…, don’t do this.

 

“I’m….”

 

Phillip said, and the boy shuddered. Phillip touched his lower lip, which was beginning to bleed, and swallowed a bitter laugh. To the boy, he was an a**hole, no better than Fred. This just confirmed it.

 

Blood trickled down his wrist.

 

“…Get out.”

 

A gruff voice rang out. The boy looked up, dazed. Pressing his forehead, Phillip spoke again.

 

“Didn’t you hear me? Get the f**k out. If you want to have some fun using your hole, stay here.”

 

The boy turned white and walked out the door. As soon as the door was closed, a sharp popping sound followed.

 

A trickle of blood ran down his wrist and pooled on the carpet. Phillip stood there for a moment, speechless.