Joker 1 (Side story) Prologue

Prologue

 

Camellia Lady.

 

It was the title of the performance they were about to see, a ballet adaptation of the novel ‘La Dame aux Camélias’.

 

Joo Hawon folded his ticket in half, tucked it inside his suit jacket, and glanced at the empty seat beside him. The spot where Kwon Taeha should have been was a vacant, desolate space.

 

Had his sigh deepened a little then? Before the first act began, Joo Hawon turned his gaze to the stage as the curtain rose.

 

The performance began with the death of a woman. Then, the story unfolded in earnest as the man who could not forget her recalled his past.

 

Their first meeting was at a ballet performance in medieval Paris.

 

With Chopin’s piano concerto accompanying them, countless ballerinas and male dancers poured onto the stage, their movements fluid and changing. Dressed in medieval attire, they acted as if they were attending a ballet performance. And among them, one woman stood out.

 

A courtesan, adorned in a voluminous dress and fanning herself.

 

That is, Marguerite, the courtesan, who was also known as the mistress of a nobleman and a high-class prostitute.

 

The young nobleman Armand, clad in a black coat, could not tear his eyes away from her the moment he saw her. His gaze, drawn to her and unable to hide his excitement, was akin to youthful infatuation, yet his gestures towards her were as elegant as a nobleman’s.

 

Armand watched his friend dance with the woman he had fallen for, his eyes filled with jealousy. But soon, the woman approached him, and he, trying to conceal his elation, embraced her as if escorting her.

 

It was like a waltz, but unlike the free-spirited courtesan, Armand assisted her dance with restrained movements.

 

As the dance grew longer, Armand, no longer able to hide his affection, lifted her in his arms and expressed his passion, unwilling to let her go. This silent obsession stemmed from the male dancer’s movements.

 

Whether they were merely teasing Armand, or if she too was drawn to the young nobleman, the two could not take their eyes off each other.

 

They moved across the stage with the tips of their toes, light as feathers. Perhaps they were lovers defying gravity.

 

Joo Hawon glanced at his empty seat once more.

 

He was about to shift his gaze to his watch when it returned to Marguerite and Armand.

 

At that moment, Armand, who had been gazing solely at Marguerite, met his eyes. As the stage was very close to the audience seats, he dismissed it as a mere illusion.

 

An intermission was given between the end of the first act and the beginning of the second, but Kwon Taeha had still not arrived. Joo Hawon finally took out his phone.

 

Had he received a message during the performance?

 

A message had arrived, and with a mix of disappointment and anticipation, he tapped the screen. It was highly likely to be a message saying he wouldn’t be able to make it on time, so his gaze lingered on his phone longer than usual.

 

“They don’t let latecomers in.”

 

Before he could even read the message, Joo Hawon snapped his head up and looked at the man filling the seat that had been empty all along.

 

“I’m a little late, aren’t I?”

 

He whispered into Joo Hawon’s ear, even during the break.

 

“When did you get here?”

 

“About ten minutes after the performance started.”

 

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shifted into a slightly more relaxed posture.

 

He had once thought of him as the darling of high society, and today was no less impressive. He chuckled slightly at the thought that the young nobleman Armand, who had dominated the stage, now seemed insignificant.

 

“Are you angry?”

 

Kwon Taeha intertwined his fingers with Joo Hawon’s hand, which rested on his thigh.

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Your lips are a little more pouted than usual.”

 

“It must be your imagination.”

 

“Please forgive me. I almost died.”

 

Joo Hawon, who had been looking at their clasped hands with a hint of embarrassment, widened his eyes. Kwon Taeha, who had spoken, also realized Joo Hawon’s extreme surprise and began to carefully choose his words to package the story.

 

“You didn’t know there was a blizzard outside, did you?”

 

“Really?”

 

When he left his home in Westend Sued, there had been no news of snow at all. The distance to the Alte Oper here was only a five-minute drive.

 

So, a blizzard must have started in the meantime…

 

“How long did it take you to get here from the airport?”

 

“About fifteen minutes?”

 

“You said you were ten minutes late for the performance. I arrived thirty minutes before the show started, you know? I didn’t see any snow on the way, so why are you lying?”

 

Joo Hawon had lived in Germany for a long time and had explored various parts of the Main, so he was well-acquainted with the geography.

 

Kwon Taeha winced, a slight awkwardness on his face. Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but there was no trace of blue in his eyes.

 

“According to the schedule, I should have arrived ten minutes before the performance, but the landing gear wouldn’t deploy, so we were circling in the air for quite a while. But it’s true that it snowed on the way here.”

 

“You always talk so much when you’re at a disadvantage, CEO.”

 

Joo Hawon teased him with a playful smile.

 

“Why, you talk a lot when you’re doing that too.”

 

As the conversation veered in that direction again, Joo Hawon squeezed Kwon Taeha’s clasped hand with all his might. Even though it must have hurt, Kwon Taeha didn’t complain.

 

“That’s not talking, that’s dirty talk.”

 

“Is dirty talk not talking?”

 

Joo Hawon looked around and met the eyes of the person sitting next to him. He didn’t know if they were German or from another Western country, but seeing them smile faintly, it seemed they thankfully didn’t understand Korean.

 

“Still, it’s a relief you arrived safely. Weren’t you scared?”

 

“Scared of what?”

 

Kwon Taeha leaned closer to Joo Hawon.

 

The scent from his neatly styled hair was, as always, pleasant. Joo Hawon deliberately pulled his face away from his tickling hair.

 

“You said the wheels wouldn’t come down. What if they hadn’t…?”

 

If they had stayed suspended in the air and run out of fuel, they would have crashed. Joo Hawon’s face visibly stiffened.

 

“Don’t imagine useless things.”

 

“Does that happen often?”

 

“If this happened often, airplanes wouldn’t be the safest mode of transportation, would they?”

 

“Still, it’s more strange not to have ominous thoughts.”

 

“It’s okay. I wasn’t destined to die today anyway.”

 

Joo Hawon quickly turned to look at Kwon Taeha. Their faces were so close that he took a breath and again, only his pupils registered his surroundings. Kwon Taeha pulled Joo Hawon’s hand closer, resting it on the armrest between them.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

Was he now even aware of his own death date? Of course, knowing it was impossible, he had to ask again.

 

“I’m not dying without you.”

 

“…Honestly.”

 

He was the type of person who wanted to die on the same day. Joo Hawon let out another small, pleasant smile.

 

Even the time it took to capture that face in his eyes felt precious, but the announcement for the start of the second act chimed. Kwon Taeha looked with considerable displeasure at the shopping bag placed by Joo Hawon’s feet.

 

The bouquet, with its blooming flowers, was peeking out of the shopping bag. While it wasn’t for him, he added a petty remark.

 

“Is it mine?”

 

Joo Hawon, who had been looking at the stage where the curtain had opened, looked at Kwon Taeha and then back at the bouquet.

 

“Ah, that… I thought it would be a bit awkward to offer congratulations empty-handed.”

 

The play then began, and Joo Hawon tapped Kwon Taeha’s hand with his fingertips, urging him to focus on the performance. Although it was a clear avoidance tactic, Kwon Taeha didn’t press the matter further.

 

Armand and Marguerite were still in their joyful moments, dancing a pas de deux. They didn’t know that they would be separated due to their parents’ opposition, and that Marguerite would eventually die from her worsening illness.

 

Joo Hawon felt as if he had made eye contact again with one of the two lovers, who were wooing, yearning, and pouring their love onto each other’s necks.

 

“Look at that bastard.”

 

The low curse was puzzling. Glancing at Kwon Taeha, he saw him wearing a chilling expression, one rarely seen lately.

 

‘Why?’

 

Sensing his gaze, Kwon Taeha slightly turned his head and mouthed his words. Joo Hawon replied with his lips that it was nothing and refocused on the play.

 

The corps de ballet, leaping across the stage as lightly as if they had threads attached to their heads, were of various ages. Some looked barely adult, while others appeared middle-aged, perhaps due to their makeup.

 

Even if they weren’t the main characters, they must have honed themselves for countless hours to reach their positions. They had undoubtedly dedicated themselves to ballet for a long time.

 

Watching the two lovers sublimate their sorrow of facing parental opposition into ballet, Joo Hawon suddenly reflected on his own past.

 

Had he ever strived for his dreams, honing himself even once?

 

No, it had only been years spent chasing debt without hope.

 

He inwardly clicked his tongue, wondering why he was getting lost in such useless reflections while watching a ballet performance. Kwon Taeha squeezed Joo Hawon’s hand a little tighter.

 

“Is it fun?”

 

He whispered, tilting his head slightly. Joo Hawon subtly raised the corners of his lips and nodded with his eyes. After that, he didn’t take his eyes off the stage. That is, until he saw Armand paying Marguerite, whom he believed had left him for a life of luxury, even paying her a fee.

 

Armand, intending to hurt her, handed her money in front of everyone.

 

Armand’s love was genuine, but the fact that he treated his lover like a prostitute remained unchanged. So, was it Marguerite’s fault for living the life of a prostitute, or was Armand’s love not deep enough to encompass her entire past?

 

Or perhaps…

 

Was it simply a malicious intent, meticulously devising the most hurtful way to wound the woman who had betrayed him? The betrayal must have been so great that he couldn’t even see the reasons why she left him.

 

Joo Hawon secretly observed Kwon Taeha again.

 

He was watching the stage with a bored, emotionless gaze. There were times when he felt a sense of detachment from him, and this was one of them.

 

Kwon Taeha’s eyes were on the stage, but he wasn’t immersed in the play, nor did he empathize with it. Neither Armand nor Marguerite evoked any emotion in him. Unlike himself, who unintentionally recalled their past while watching the performance.

 

“You said it was fun, but are you bored already?”

 

Suddenly, Kwon Taeha turned his gaze to Joo Hawon. He had been more interested in Joo Hawon than the performance from the start, so he couldn’t have missed his gaze.

 

“No. It’s fun.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

Of course, the content of their relationship spiraling into ruin wasn’t fun. Especially since the separation was caused by others, it left a bitter taste.

 

‘Taeha Kwon, the Chief Operating Officer (COO) of STA Corporation, and his same-sex partner, Joo Hawon, are well-known to have been a dealer at STA. Some speculate that he may have received sponsorship from various people in the past. Today, we intend to delve a little into these rumors.’

 

The voice of a creator who produced entertainment rumor videos echoed in his ears. Last week’s topic on that channel had been Kwon Taeha and himself.

 

Although the video was taken down as soon as it was uploaded to the site, it had already garnered hundreds of thousands of views.

 

He understood. Even if they weren’t celebrities, people’s interest in the chaebol family was far greater than imagined.

 

In addition, other video content about him and himself were taken down as soon as they were uploaded, but it was difficult to block the uploads altogether.

 

While his mind was preoccupied with complex thoughts and he couldn’t focus on the play, the courtesan eventually met a lonely death from consumption, and the ballet performance concluded with great success.

 

The applause for the ballerinas and male dancers who had given passionate performances did not cease. As the curtain call approached, Joo Hawon applauded as well.

 

Kwon Taeha, on the other hand, offered a bored applause, filled with a sense of obligation.

 

“Are you going to the dressing room?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Amidst the crowd beginning to leave the theater, Joo Hawon gathered his shopping bag.

 

“Shall we go together?”

 

“Are you planning to leave me behind?”

 

“You’re empty-handed, CEO.”

 

“I only needed to provide sponsorship, why would I give a bouquet too?”

 

The jealous remark was not unpleasant to hear.

 

“Let’s go,” Joo Hawon said, taking Kwon Taeha’s hand. He still wasn’t entirely used to holding hands in public, but he never gave up sharing warmth because of others’ gazes.

 

Kwon Taeha looked at Joo Hawon’s slightly embarrassed face, as he always did. He found it refreshing each time to see a reaction he hadn’t quite gotten used to. This was despite his personality, which didn’t care about others at all.

 

Thanks to the prior contact, no staff members blocked their way as they headed to the dressing room. The two passed by the busy staff and found the dressing room of ‘Eunjun Lee,’ who played ‘Armand.’

 

The door was half-open, so Joo Hawon knocked lightly and peeked inside.

 

“Eunjun-ssi, are you in there?”

 

As if he had been waiting, a young man rushed out and opened the door with a bright smile.

 

“Teacher, you’re here!?”

 

Joo Hawon forced a smile at the embarrassing title of ‘Teacher.’ Lee Eunjun, with his heavy stage makeup, bowed respectfully upon seeing Kwon Taeha.

 

“Hello, Sponsor.”

 

Unlike his earlier familiarity, he was clearly nervous.

 

“Yes, it’s nice to see you. I enjoyed the performance today.”

 

When Kwon Taeha extended his hand, Lee Eunjun politely offered both of his hands to clasp. Joo Hawon took out a large bouquet, as tall as his upper body, from the shopping bag and handed it to Eunjun.

 

“Eunjun-ssi, you were truly wonderful today. Thanks to the tickets you sent, I was able to enjoy the first performance.”

 

“You didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you!”

 

Eunjun, bowing repeatedly in gratitude, buried his face in the bouquet and then took a deep breath.

 

“Wow, it smells amazing!”

 

His face was covered in sweat from his passionate movements, to the point where his heavy makeup was smudged. Yet, he didn’t look unappealing, precisely because of the passion radiating from him.

 

Lee Eunjun began to gain recognition as a genius ballet dancer about three years ago, but he had to take a break due to a broken ankle from a car accident. As he focused on rehabilitation, a slump naturally followed, and people forgot about him, as if they had never called him a genius.

 

Therefore, if Joo Hawon hadn’t happened to see a TV broadcast, STA would not have sponsored Lee Eunjun.

 

The broadcast Joo Hawon saw was a human documentary showing the daily life of a student studying abroad in Germany with ballet as their specialty.

 

Ballet major international student Lee Eunjun would practice ballet all day and then sleep in a tiny room, curled up like a shrimp. His sleeping form, covered in fatigue, left a strong impression on Joo Hawon’s mind. The narration also mentioned that his parents, despite their meager means, had invested everything for their child’s future.

 

It was mere curiosity to look up what kind of ballet dancer that student had become by now. Surprisingly, the last news was about a car accident. Since there was no further news, he assumed the student had failed to recover and given up his dream of ballet. Nevertheless, the image of the young student sleeping like a shrimp in a small room lingered.

 

A few months later, Joo Hawon coincidentally came across news about Lee Eunjun. It was on a video content site that often used other people’s stories for profit.

 

‘How are those people from back then living?’

 

The topic was something like that, and that episode was about Lee Eunjun. Unfortunately, the video, which didn’t garner much public interest, had dismal viewership. If Joo Hawon hadn’t searched for Lee Eunjun, he wouldn’t have even been able to see it.

 

According to the creator, Lee Eunjun’s sponsor had cut off financial support six months into his rehabilitation. This was because rehabilitation costs were enormous. Ultimately, the information was that Lee Eunjun had returned to Korea and was working part-time.

 

It was a profound tragedy.

 

For Lee Eunjun, who had spent most of his life with ballet, nothing remained when ballet was taken away. He had no other talents, and his family wasn’t wealthy, so his dream became a mere illusion.

 

Lee Eunjun’s tragedy turned into good fortune after STA intervened.

 

‘STA Corporation’ sponsored numerous entities to improve its corporate image, including the arts. Of course, it was more of a superficial group sponsorship rather than genuine interest in individuals.

 

Then, STA began to assist the rehabilitation of the ill-fated genius Lee Eunjun, pouring generous support into him as an individual.

 

And thus, the youngest Asian ‘Armand’ in ‘Camellia Lady’ was completed. With the successful premiere, the title of genius would return to Lee Eunjun.

 

Lee Eunjun guessed that all these miracles were achieved not thanks to Kwon Taeha, who was coldly watching him from over there, but thanks to Joo Hawon. Kwon Taeha, the COO and sponsor of STA, had no interest in his talent.

 

What that executive was interested in was how far he would rise with the wings STA had given him. The more famous Lee Eunjun became, the more the sponsoring company would be mentioned in people’s mouths, for better or worse, which was precisely why companies sponsored.

 

The person who stopped sponsoring him after the accident had said it was like pouring water into a bottomless pit for Lee Eunjun. Even when Lee Eunjun thought of himself as a broken pot, Joo Hawon came and extended a hand.

 

Looking at Joo Hawon, who presented a simple business card despite his appearance, Lee Eunjun could think of many descriptions.

 

‘The lover of STA’s Chief Operating Officer,’ ‘A casino dealer who charmed a chaebol and turned his life around,’ etc. A shadow of Kwon Taeha always followed Joo Hawon.

 

Even now, Lee Eunjun felt suffocated by the man standing by Joo Hawon’s side.

 

“Are your ankles really okay?”

 

Joo Hawon, who was breathing just fine, spoke to him.

 

“Of course. Did you see me flying? Shall I do it again?”

 

Joo Hawon offered a gentle smile.

 

“Even if my insight into ballet is limited, I can tell Mr. Eunjun’s skills are immense. Ah, I just came to congratulate you, but did I take up too much of your time?”

 

Although it was his first performance, he thought there would be an after-party and quickly wrapped up his words.

 

“Not at all! Have you eaten dinner, perhaps……? I’ll be out after a quick wash, so why don’t you and the sponsor join us,”

 

“Mr. Lee Eunjun’s Marguerite is not this one.”

 

Kwon Taeha said, somewhat mischievously, and put his arm around Joo Hawon’s waist. Lee Eunjun, meeting Kwon Taeha’s gaze directly, let out an awkward laugh, “Haha.”

 

“If anything, shouldn’t you be sure to find the right person to focus on, at least when you’re on stage?”

 

Though his tone was gentle, his words carried a sharp edge. Joo Hawon subtly tugged at the suit jacket draped over Kwon Taeha’s back. Taeha, however, looked utterly unbothered, as if wondering what he’d said wrong.

 

“The CEO tends to make jokes sound serious, so please don’t take it to heart. We’ll be going now.”

 

“Really? I make jokes sound serious?”

 

“Let’s go,” Joo Hawon said quickly, taking Kwon Taeha’s hand. But as soon as Lee Eunjun’s gaze fell on their joined hands, Kwon Taeha spoke again.

 

“It’s a pity, but Mr. Lee’s ‘Daddy Long Legs’ is already a married man. That’s not a joke, by the way, though it might sound like one.”

 

Leaving behind Lee Eunjun, who only blinked in confusion, Joo Hawon said they’d see him next time. While he whispered something to Kwon Taeha, Lee Eunjun could do nothing but stand there, clutching the bouquet in his arms.

 

Then the rich scent rising from the fully bloomed roses snapped him back to his senses.

 

“…Was I just warned off?”

 

He let out a small, incredulous breath as he finally understood what Kwon Taeha had meant.

 

But was he really someone that man would bother to warn off? The thought struck him as absurd—unless Kwon Taeha was feeling insecure.

 

Well, it wasn’t strange for a man blinded by love to lose his sense of reason. Just like the character he himself played.

 

Still, it was baffling. All he’d done was glance over when his own savior, Joo Hawon, had appeared mid-performance, yet he’d ended up hearing that kind of thing.

 

Lee Eunjun couldn’t help but wonder if Joo Hawon had somehow poisoned the bouquet, so he set it down a good distance away.

 

***

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“What?”

 

“You were being sarcastic.”

 

“He probably didn’t even realize I was being sarcastic.”

 

Wagner, who had retrieved their coats, handed them to Joo Hawon and Kwon Taeha in turn. Kwon Taeha took the coat Joo Hawon was about to put on and helped him put it on himself. Joo Hawon put his arms into the coat one by one and tried to help Kwon Taeha similarly. However, he had already dressed himself and was holding his hand again.

 

They began to descend the long stairs of the opera house towards where the car was. It had indeed snowed heavily, as people had said; snow was piled up on the railings untouched by human feet. White snow, which would surely crunch underfoot, was visible on the sidewalk beyond the intersection.

 

“Shall we walk?”

 

“Take the car. It’s cold.”

 

There was a clear concern for his lungs.

 

“If you get cold on the way, let’s take a taxi.”

 

Still, from the opera house to home was only about 1km, so walking was sometimes faster than driving.

 

“Shall I carry you?”

 

“I’m not an invalid.”

 

Kwon Taeha was quite serious, making Joo Hawon chuckle several times. The two slowly walked towards the residential area across the intersection.

 

They considered getting an Americano from Bacchus Coffee, but it was in the opposite direction of home, so they had to stop by a nearby cafe as a compromise. Joo Hawon got two cups of hot coffee to go and walked with him. One hand held each other’s, and the other clasped their respective coffee cups.

 

As they drank their coffee, their white breath became more pronounced with each exhale. It felt as if it were struggling to steal away their warm breaths.

 

“CEO, do you know how old Mr. Lee Eunjun is?”

 

“No. I don’t want to know either.”

 

Joo Hawon didn’t want to let the ballet dancer, who had just spread his wings, harbor any strange illusions.

 

“Don’t think such absurd thoughts. You think everyone in the world is interested in me.”

 

“Weren’t they?”

 

“…….”

Instead of finding words, a hollow laugh escaped his lips, and his breath brushed faintly across his face. Within that hazy exhale, Joo Hawon’s face appeared so entrancingly beautiful that Kwon Taeha didn’t bother to correct himself.

“That kid’s only twenty-four.”

“I know an old man who lives with someone twenty years younger.”

“Would you call that love?”

Kwon Taeha, who had been drinking his coffee, suddenly froze. The faint displeasure lingering between his brows eased.

“What’s wrong?”

Joo Hawon turned around to look at him. Lowering the cup that had been hiding his face, Kwon Taeha curved his lips into a charming smile.

“It just sounded like you were talking about us.”

“…Just come on already.”

Joo Hawon gave his hand a small shake, urging him forward. Though he hadn’t used any real strength, Kwon Taeha followed obediently, stepping closer until their shoulders brushed.

“You’re really not going to say it out loud yourself?”

“You haven’t either, have you?”

He looked as if that couldn’t possibly be true.

Of course, words mattered. But Joo Hawon had never once voiced a confession of love.

What had his last wish been before he died? It was to love Kwon Taeha. And, miraculously, that wish had come true. He was living it now. Yet if he were to put all that emotion into words and declare it outright, it felt as though the fragile life he’d been given would vanish like foam.

He thought back to the day he’d walked through the damp markets of Macau with him.

The incandescent bulbs lighting the wet darkness were beacons for insects, while cockroaches scurried away into the shadows. On that day, filled only with unease and darkness, who could’ve imagined he’d one day walk this bright, white path beside him?

Sometimes he doubted it was real.

Maybe he had already died in the waters of Macau, and only his wretched soul remained, dreaming.

Maybe God had shown him a sliver of mercy, granting him this illusion to fulfill his final wish.

“Should I say it?”

He had drawn closer again when he suddenly spoke.

“Say what?”

“Joo Hawon, you were off in another world again, weren’t you?”

His tone was almost like a gentle scolding, as if telling him not to wander off in thought. It wasn’t as though he could read minds, but somehow, he always knew.

“…I wasn’t.”

“Then do you even know what I was offering to say?”

“You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“Why?”

“You said Mr. Lee Eunjoon’s ‘Daddy Long Legs’ was a married man.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, my ‘Daddy Long Legs’ is married too. That’s enough for me.”

Just as he always cut off Joo Hawon’s needless thoughts, Kwon Taeha was the one who always stood behind him, protecting him.

Kwon Taeha’s lover.

He knew that title always followed him, but he didn’t mind. Because Kwon Taeha saw him — truly saw him — as Joo Hawon, nothing more, nothing less. Whatever anyone else said didn’t matter, as long as that one person looked at him properly.

“That’s cruel. I’m not even old.”

“Didn’t you call me ‘old man’ in front of Mr. Lee earlier?”

“Then maybe I should’ve said ‘Daddy Long Baby’ instead.”

Joo Hawon let out a disbelieving breath.

When life felt this peaceful, the hardness of his once-guarded expression would sometimes melt away.

The sharp gazes around him, the excessive attention, they could be suffocating at times, but he could handle them. The real problem lay with those who tried to use him to damage STA’s image or smear filth on Kwon Taeha’s name.

“That story about Daeyoung Shipbuilding and Heavy Industries today… you leaked it, didn’t you?”

That morning, posts and videos had begun circulating online, revealing that Joo Hawon was the son of the company’s CEO. Thanks to that, the rumors about sponsors were quickly dismissed.

“You being quick on the uptake isn’t news. But why is it always me whenever something happens?”

“Because you’re the only one who protects me in this world.”

Kwon Taeha slowed his pace and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t worry. I don’t care what other people say. The only thing that bothers me is when you get dragged into attacks because of me.”

“I do care. And who’d dare attack me? I don’t have multiple lives to spare.”

“Well, Aeil Kwon probably has a hundred of them.”

“I’ve already used up ninety-nine. Only one left.”

Kwon Taeha pressed his lips to his temple and lingered there for a moment before pulling away. The gray-blue of his eyes scattered, colder than midwinter. Joo Hawon could tell there was some hidden scheme in his mind again.

“If you’re planning something, at least give me a heads-up first.”

“You’re my secretary. Of course I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“I’m not officially one yet.”

“You’ve been official to me for a long time now.”

Then, pulling Joo Hawon’s arm, he draped it around his neck and hoisted him onto his back.

Joo Hawon hesitated, worried the coffee might spill, but Kwon Taeha had already finished his. Joo Hawon’s cup was only half-full now. Kwon Taeha handed him his own empty cup and bent down slightly.

“Have you gained weight?” he joked, hooking his hands under Joo Hawon’s legs and lifting him.

Since this wasn’t something they’d ever done around the neighborhood, Joo Hawon rested his cheek against Kwon Taeha’s shoulder on purpose, pretending to be unwell so no one would look at them strangely.

The alley lined with houses was empty and white, as if no one had passed through. As his body swayed on the man’s back, Joo Hawon drew in a quiet breath.

In winter, his damaged lungs always caused more trouble, so Kwon Taeha paid him even more attention than usual during the season.

“How about we take a trip to Korea next week?”

“Will you even have time?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I can rearrange my own schedule.”

“You’re not a kid — what if you start insisting like that?” Joo Hawon almost said something half-hearted in return, but instead pressed his cheek deeper against his shoulder and answered softly,

“All right. Let’s go.”

Each day felt like being reborn — a life overflowing with endless love.