Myungsoo finished his wine in one gulp as he felt his throat drying up again. The food was tasteless in his mouth, which was strange seeing how everyone else was devouring every dish. His chef usually did a great job with dinners, but today, the food just didn’t appeal to him. In fact, nothing did – the food, the people, Jieyon.

It’s probably me…

“So Myungsoo, have you thought about setting a date?” Mrs. Park asked with a wide smile on her face. She was Jiyeon’s mother, his future mother-in-law. Today’s dinner was requested by Jieyon and her parents as well as his parents.

Ever since the families had gotten to know about the engagement, the parents had started clamoring to get to know each other. Hence, the family get-together – Jiyeon’s parents were there, so were his parents. To not feel too much of an outcast, he had invited Sunggyu too. His parents were a bit surprised, but he had explained to them that Sunggyu was going to be his best man.

He had asked his friend to be his best man and he had accepted gracefully. There was no one else he could think of; besides, he was the one who was aware of the entire situation.

“No, I don’t want to hurry. Besides, Jiyeon’s busy now and so am I,” he replied, not looking at the women sat at the table. To be honest, the Parks made him uncomfortable, and his parents weren’t any better. It was pretty clear he wouldn’t get along well with his in-laws. He just hoped Jiyeon would understand.

After dinner ended, everyone moved to the parlour, where drinks were poured and everyone started chattering enthusiastically. He tried to be polite, nodding to what Mr. Park had to say, but his words didn’t register in his mind – his mind was far away.

“Too bad Munsoo missed this,” Mrs. Kim was saying to Jiyeon’s mother. “He’s my youngest son, he’s really handsome. He lives in California. If Jiyeon has a pretty friend…”

She didn’t know that Munsoo had been in Seoul only a week ago. He had left as abruptly as he had arrived. Myungsoo recalled his last meeting with brother; not so much of a meeting – he had seen him kiss Sungjong. It was probably one of the hardest things for him to bear, and that was saying something because he had gone through a lot. In truth, Sungjong had unknowingly put him through a lot, sights and sounds he had never expected to haunt him this much.

But seeing him reunited with Munsoo, watching them silently as they shared a kiss was just as agonizing as it had been eight years ago, maybe even more so. He had been devastated – that moment had seemed like a whole century and he had been crushed by the weight of it, slowly, painfully. Those few seconds had stretched out to torture him; he had experienced treachery, just like the first time, all over again.

Why had it affected him so much if he had truly moved on? It was as if the two had betrayed him once more, except that this time, Sungjong hadn’t owed him anything. This time, he had no right to hold it against the younger.

He had received an email from Munsoo a few days ago, explaining that he had indeed tried to woo Sungjong against his wishes but had been turned down. There was no apology in the letter, only an earnest request for him to understand his brother.

‘I love him hyung. Wouldn’t you have done the same if you were in love with him?’ – he had written. He didn’t know how to reply to that.

‘I know I went against your wish, but you have to understand how much I love him. Honestly, I don’t regret it.’

Back when Munsoo and Sungjong had dated, watching them together had been like a knife in his heart being twisted over and over again, filling his lungs with blood. The two had never even tried to spare his feelings. In fact, he had felt that Sungjong had tried to rub it in further – every look he had given him was disdainful.

Even now, as he recalled it, he could sense the emotions as if the incident had happened only a few seconds ago. They were so real that they scared him.

The knife was back, and with another painful twist, he wondered if Munsoo and Sungjong were still in love. They had broken up for a good reason; besides, he didn’t believe Sungjong didn’t have what it took to love.

You don’t know love, you don’t understand anyone apart from yourself.

There was a loud noise which jerked him away from his thoughts. He turned to see his mother collapse. Everyone else hurried to her side, helping her to her feet. She mumbled something about having a headache.

“I’ll take you to the bedroom, you should rest,” Myungsoo said perfunctorily. Everyone else seemed to agree.

Putting her mother’s arm around his shoulder, he supported her to the guest bedroom, helping her on to the bed. She thanked him, closing her eyes. Covering her with a blanket, he was about to leave when she said, in a faint voice, “Stay with me for now, Myungsoo.”

Seeing no other way out, he sat down beside her on the bed. He had excruciating thoughts to go back to, but he couldn’t just leave his mother like he didn’t care at all. They probably didn’t have the most perfect relationship but she was still his mother and he felt a strong sense of duty towards her. If only she had been more understanding, he could have relieved his feelings to her. Who knew, maybe she would even have had a solution to his dilemma.

“I’m so proud of you, Myungsoo. You’ve grown up so well and you’re settling down now. I’m happy for you, so grateful that you overcame all your weird notions and done the right thing.”

Myungsoo’s body stiffened immediately. He had a good idea about what she meant by ‘weird notions’ and he didn’t like it one bit. He wished she wouldn’t bring it up but it was probably unavoidable anyway. At one point, they had to talk about the past.

A part of him wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that Sungjong had not been just a phase and that it troubled him even to this day. But the considerate part of him refrained from saying anything. What was the point of fighting with her anyway?

Instead, he said, “Sungjong works at my office now, he’s the assistant PA.”

His mother’s eyes flew open as she placed her hand over her heart.

“What?”

He reiterated in a steady voice, watching her blink repeatedly. Her face turned pale as if the news had scared her.

“Why aren’t you firing him? That dirty boy-”

“He’s not the nicest person ever,” he cut across her firmly, “but he’s not who you think he is. I was in love with him, he had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t say that!” Mrs. Kim screamed, a disgruntled expression on her face. “It was his trick…”

“There was no trick. And I want you to know, if I could…” his voice broke, “I would fall in love with him again. I’m not marrying Jieyon because I think what I had done in the past is wrong. I just want you to know that.”

With that, he got up from the bed. Shutting the door to the room behind him softly, he made his way towards the balcony. He had no wish to go back to the parlour and mingle, so he poured himself a glass of wine from the kitchen before seeking refuge on the balcony.

The balcony was his most favorite part of the house. It was wide and overlooked the garden in front of his house. On nights he couldn’t fall asleep, he would come up to the balcony and listen to music, losing himself in the atmosphere.

There was a time when he had promised that he would always go back for Sungjong, just like the sea that keeps hugging the shoreline no matter how many times it is swept away. He had wanted to be Sungjong’s sea – wide, endless, and understanding. But he couldn’t keep his promise. As for Sungjong, he had never made a promise so there was nothing he had broken, except for Myungsoo’s heart.

He had no idea how much his rejection had hurt the younger, but he wished Sungjong understood now. If he realized how it hurt, maybe he would be able to love the way he wanted him to.

There was a noise behind him and Sunggyu appeared, a glass of wine in his hand. He had come looking for him since he had been away for so long. Myungsoo told him that he wanted to be left alone for some time. Instead of leaving, Sunggyu stared at him with a hard gaze.

“Are you doubting yourself? That would do you no good you know. You brought this up, so a part of you believes in this decision.” He spoke earnestly, no doubt trying to convince him. But Myungsoo understood this better than him, he knew what had to be done.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me. This is the right decision.”

“If you think so…I just don’t want you to feel that I made your decision for you.” Sunggyu placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Nodding, he left, dragging the glass door shut behind him. A slice of loud laughter and clinking of glasses floated out through the temporarily opened door, from the living room where everyone else was gathered. No doubt they were having a good time.

 As the cool breeze brushed through his hair, he took another sip of his wine.

Well, this is it. There’s no going back from here.

He had done everything he had wanted to – gotten his revenge on Sungjong, moved on from the traumatic incident in his past, made his parents happy. He had a fiancée many would be happy to get the chance to woo, and the fall line at his company was coming along perfectly; even Minho was being diligent and he had consistently been the late runner. Everything seemed to be perfect in his life right now, but his heart felt empty – like a long strip of arid desolate desert. He nurtured his soul through his work, but there was nothing he could do to quench his heart. It was like a massive fault line on parched ground.

Eight years ago, Sungjong had stomped on his heart, tore it into pieces, and left it bleeding. Over time, his heart had repaired, not regenerated. So now, it was a mass of blotched, scarred muscle, enough to pump blood around his body but not enough to nurture love. It was just a hollowed out grave, where he had buried Lee Sungjong.

But had he? Had he really, truly buried Lee Sungjong? If he had, then why was he here? Why was he still here, in the air he was breathing in, interspersed in the midnight breeze, in the spaces between his fingers, everywhere, everywhere!

Am I really moving on, or am I just moving backward?

He wondered if this would have happened if he hadn’t met the younger recently, if it would have been any different. He would probably not have gotten engaged, but something told him that this thirst, this secretive loneliness that almost tasted like longing, would follow him anyway, wherever he went and how many years passed; it was a part of him, like an extra limb he didn’t want but couldn’t cut it off.

There was no one whom he could talk to about it, no one who would understand his pain. There was nothing anyone could say to convince him that they can empathise with him. No one knew about the silent pain he harbored, no one who would ever know…except…

Feeling a sudden chill in his chest, he brought out his cellphone from his pocket. Unlocking the screen, he went to his contacts, scrolling down to find one particular number. In order to ensure that he could contact his staff at any time, their numbers were saved on his cell phone. Every time he got a new assistant PA or a new editor joined, Woohyun would update the contact list on his cell phone. Only a week ago, he had realized that his contact list now contained a Lee Sungjong.

Until now, he had resisted the temptation to look at that particular number. Today however, he surrendered. He could blame the wine, the pressure, the stars, the moon flirting with the clouds – he could blame anything and everything for what he did next – pressed the call button.

What am I doing?

His whole body quivered with anticipation and fear. Any moment now, Sungjong would pick up, and he would hear his voice. He would demand who it was; how was he going to reply to that? And if he did give away his identity, how would he explain why he had called him at 1 am in the morning?

His hand shaking, threatening to drop the phone and his heart in his throat, threatening to choke him, he felt an urge to run away. But he did nothing, except hold the phone against his ear, dying to end the call but at the same time yearning to hear his assistant PA’s voice.

It’s the wine talking, he chanted to himself. This is nothing, this will pass tomorrow.

The call disconnected – Sungjong wasn’t picking up. It was 1 am on a Saturday morning, he was probably out, drinking with friends, maybe even Minho. At that thought, his heart churned painfully and nausea hit him full on. He gulped down more wine, hoping to get rid of the acidic taste in his mouth.

His thoughts and limbs weren’t connecting anymore; without any warning, he pressed redial. The sound filled his head, reverberated around his skull. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else; it was almost as if the dial tone had hypnotized him.

His breath caught in his chest when the tiniest pause emerged. He didn’t have enough time to brace himself. Sungjong’s groggy “Hello?” caught him by surprise, even though he had been anticipating it every second before he actually heard it. It was a massive blow that knocked the air out of his lungs and paralysed him on the spot.

“Hello?” Sungjong’s voice came again, a little irritated, but as beautiful as ever.

Beautiful…as ever…

Air formed a lump in his throat, rendering him speechless. He knew Sungjong would hang up if he didn’t reply soon and he didn’t want him to hang up; he wanted to hear more of his honey voice, he wanted him to lull him to sleep. But what could he say?

“Argh stop pranking me whoever you are, find someone else. I swear if you wake me up from my sleep again-”

The call was disconnected. Myungsoo stood very still, phone still against his ear. The emptiness in his heart seethed, ready to crush him under its immense weight. For one night, just one night, he wanted to reset time – he wanted to go back to the past, be the innocent teenager Myungsoo and once, just once, he wanted Sungjong to accept him. How would it feel? To have Sungjong love him the way he loved him?

He wanted to know that. Just once.

Would things have been really different? Would Sungjong perhaps be by my side right now, or maybe in my bed?

“Hey there.”

He jumped badly, having not heard the glass door behind him opening. He wasn’t expecting anybody and no one should know that he was here.

“Jiyeon, what are you doing here?” he asked, lowering the cell phone from his ear finally. 

She smiled at him, coming to stand beside him.

“I got you something.” Fumbling in her purse, she took out a small box. Propping it open, she brought out a plain silver ring, with one small stone set in the center. Bringing his hand towards her, she slid the ring onto his ring finger, then held up his hand, admiring it.

“What’s this?” he questioned.

“Your engagement ring. Now everyone will know you’re taken.” She smiled again and Myungsoo thought she had a rather greedy look on her face, but he probably just had too much to drink and was thus imagining things.

He could argue with her, tell her that he didn’t want to wear an engagement ring, that the whole idea was stupid - but then again, getting engaged to her was stupid as well – however, he didn’t want to lengthen the interaction. The quicker she left him to his blues, the better. Sungjong’s voice was still rolling around in his head, making him feel weak to the knees, and he wanted that almost addicting sensation to continue to drown him.

“Thanks, it’s nice. Now if you could excuse-”

Without warning, she kissed him on the lips, even grabbing him by the neck and trying to pull him towards her. That was strangely straightforward of her, something she had never attempted so boldly before, but he wouldn’t budge. He was in no mood to play this game with her. She might think that she had more claim on him now that they were engaged but the truth was, he was never farther away from her. How would she understand how much he was suffering?

She isn’t what I need right now. Can she ever become what I need?

Sunggyu seemed to think that she could be the break he needed. He trusted his friend, but he had never been this doubtful about any of his decisions. All he could do was close his eyes, cross his fingers, and hope this feeling would go away one day.

“Jiyeon, I’m tired, I’m going to bed,” he stated firmly, pulling away from her. “Goodnight.”

“Should I stay the night?” she asked, looking hopeful. She had asked him that several times before and he always gave the same answer.

“No, I’d like some time to myself. Tell your parents I said goodnight.”

With that, he left the balcony before she could say anything else and trudged up to his room. Locking the door for good measure, he threw himself onto his bed, fully clothed. He was weary, he was drunk.

And for the first time in eight years, he felt very, very lonely, so lonely that he could die.

---

Sungjong was sitting very still, watching Mijoo’s lips move. He felt bad for her; she was giving him tips about modeling but her words were in vain – his brain couldn’t process anything. Ever since he had heard about Myungsoo getting engaged, he couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

At first, he couldn’t believe it; or more like he hadn’t wanted to believe it. But it was impossible to miss since the news was all over the office. There had been a press release about it even, letting the world know that Kim Myungsoo was taken. For some reason, it seemed directed at him, more than anyone else.

You’re delusional, he doesn’t spare you a single thought and you really think this is because of you? Don’t flatter yourself.

It was the natural course of things, wasn’t it? When you find someone you love, you make it more permanent by getting married to them. He had seen Myungsoo and Jiyeon together before, he knew they were dating – so why was it still difficult to believe that they were getting engaged?

He didn’t want to admit it but he knew the answer. A part of him, a very small, vain part of him had thought, or hoped at least, that Myungsoo would love him once again. He was ashamed to think that this part of him even existed but there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t simply blind arrogance – he liked to think that it was his intuition that led him to believe that the elder’s feelings for him could be revived.

Turns out I was wrong.

Sometimes he wished he could just walk into Myungsoo’s office and demand, for the last time, if he really didn’t feel anything for him. He wanted to apologise to the man, tell him that he knew now, he was wiser now, and he would never make the same mistake again. But he didn’t have enough courage for it, not after the elder had been so straightforward with him. The man believed that he was a pest and no one in their right minds would date someone with a character like his.

In anyway, Jiyeon had been there for Myungsoo all the years he hadn’t been – you couldn’t replace something like that.

“Sungjong, are you alright?” Mijoo’s voice snapped him out of his musings. He smiled at her apologetically.

“You look tired, you know. Have you lost weight recently?” she observed, her eyes narrowing.

Scratching his head, he murmured, “Maybe.”

In fact, he had lost weight. His diet regimen was working but he wasn’t losing weight as fast as he would like to. His screening shoot was in a few days and he wanted to be prepared for the day he would be standing in front of a camera.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she said, “Look Sungjong, you don’t have to force yourself to lose weight. If Minho oppa didn’t say anything, you’re perfect the way you are. He chose you because you’re you.”

He knew all of this, he’d heard it before. Sungyeol had tried to explain that to him as well. And yet, he couldn’t help trying to be more perfect. This was more for himself than for anyone else. At one time, he had confidence to move mountains but that had faded over in time until he had been reduced to this form – weak and insecure. He wanted to feel confident again, the sensation he used to feel like he was walking on air. He was tired of always feeling low.

“I’m fine really-” he started to explain but stopped when he saw someone entering. He braced himself as he realized it was Woohyun. The PA had probably come to haul his behind back to the office, screaming at him for spending too much time on his ‘second job’. Recently, he had been given a new schedule, where his time on the modeling job had been severely reduced. When he had asked Woohyun for an explanation, the elder had grimaced and snapped, “Boss’ order.”

Surprisingly, the PA ignored him completely and walked up to Mijoo with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Now I know why it’s raining today. The sun didn’t come out because it was ashamed to show its face in front of you, darling,” he said in a sugary face that made Sungjong want to throw up. He even embellished it with a wink and a heart gesture with his fingers.

Sungjong looked at Mijoo to see her reaction. He had expected her to have a grimace on her face at least, but instead, she was blushing, smiling at the PA.

What, she likes that stuff?

“Oh stop it, oppa,” she said in a voice higher than usual, hitting Woohyun on the shoulder lightly.

The PA shrugged.

“When I see you, I can’t stop. Argh, too dazzling.” He pretended to shield his eyes from Mijoo with his hands, sending her into a fit of giggles. Sungjong eyed the door longingly – this was just too much for him.

“Are you here to see our gorgeous model?” Mijoo asked, battling her eyelashes.

“Oh yeah, I’d like to see him, but where is he?” Woohyun pretended to look around, his eyes roving over where Sungjong was seated.

“Don’t be mean oppa,” Mijoo whined, moving across the sofa to allow Woohyun to sit down.

“You need to sign this.” Woohyun extended a clipboard towards Mijoo. While she signed, they continued their flirtations, making Sungjong more and more uncomfortable. When they were finally done, the PA took his leave and he sighed in relief. He hadn’t known this side of Mijoo – she had been just as corny, if not more, than Woohyun.

“So anyway, where were we?” She took up the fashion magazine she had been using to point out things to Sungjong and motioned at him to move closer to her. He did, feeling nervous all of a sudden. His first photoshoot was in a week and he didn’t feel prepared at all. Most models trained and groomed for years before debuting. He had a sick feeling in his stomach – what if he messed everything up, proved people like Himchan and Myungsoo right? What if he disappointed Minho?

Above everything, I don’t want to disappoint him. He gave me a chance … unlike …

“-best to look as comfortable as possible, since the concept of this shoot is natural,” she was saying but once again, he found it difficult to concentrate. He needed to get away for a while, spend some time alone.

Fortunately, escape came in the form of Taemin. The disgruntled PA had come to tell him that Minho had asked him to visit him at his house since he was ill and couldn’t make it to work.

“Here’s his address,” Tamein said sourly, as he handed him a piece of paper with illegible handwriting.

Sungjong had to clarify the address with the unwilling PA, and he was glad he did, because Tamein had made the writing as unintelligible and misleading as possible. The PA finished with an order to go back to his office where Woohyun had chores for him.

Thanking Mijoo for her help, he followed Taemin to their floor, his stomach heavier as he thought about Minho. The executive editor had fallen sick – had he been overworking as well? But why did he want to see Sungjong at his place? Couldn’t they have met at the office after he had gotten better?

Maybe he changed his mind about me, maybe he doesn’t want me to be his model anymore.

As relieving as the idea sounded in his head, a part of him would miss it. When he had gone to university, he hadn’t known what he wanted to do in life. Even when he started looking for jobs, he had been indecisive. But in the last few weeks, all this preparation for his modeling debut had excited him. Funnily enough, this would probably have been his career choice if he had borne his teenage mentality and confidence.

But this is a one-time thing and I don’t mind if I lose this job. Modeling is not for me.

Luckily he found the apartment building Minho lived in on the first try. It was situated in a posh area, surrounded by many high-rise buildings, large parking spaces filled with expensive cars, and green complexes. Apparently, Minho had informed the foreman of the building of his arrival. He was shown to the lift, which he rode to the fourteenth floor. Checking his reflection on the mirror inside the lift, he breathed out slowly. He wasn’t sure if he was breaking any rules – last time he’d checked, Minho was his superior.

Finding the right flat, he pressed the calling bell, smoothening out his jacket with his hands. The door opened but instead of Minho, there was another man looking at him in askance. He was just as tall, handsome, and well-groomed as Minho but he was definitely not the man he was looking for.

“I’m sorry I was-”

“Sungjong, is that you?” the dark-haired man said, gazing at him with surprise. He had a high forehead and tall, well-structured face. His large eyes were widened with shock as he took in Sungjong. Breaking into a smile, he said, “It is you! Wow, it’s been a few years.”

The man standing in front of him was handsome but he had no clue as to who he was or how he knew him. If they had met at university, the chances were he wouldn’t recognize him even if he said his name. Apart from the small tightly knit group of his close friends, he didn’t remember a lot of people from his time at college.

Biting his lips, he said, “I’m sorry I don’t…”

The handsome man threw his head back and laughed, as if he found it really amusing.

“Hyunshik, we dated for a while, remember? I was a senior, Communications major, ring a bell?”

It did ring a bell, but faintly. Right now, he was too embarrassed to admit that he didn’t recall his ex-boyfriend so he decided to nod and get over the awkward situation.

“Yeah, right, you were Kyungsoo’s flat mate right?”

“No, I don’t know any Kyungsoo. But it’s alright, we dated for two weeks only and I guess I didn’t leave much of an impression.”

Bowing his head, Sungjong apologized. How could he explain that he didn’t remember most of his ex-boyfriends and that it wasn’t their fault? They were insignificant specks of his past life; his brain had never really tried to remember them. It was just the same as dating one nameless, faceless guy rather than a string of unique entities. Granted, he was ashamed of his behavior now but that didn’t do him any good – he couldn’t recall their identities.

I’ll probably meet them somewhere some day and not even know, just like now.

“I’m sorry, I probably got the wrong flat, I’m looking for…”

“Minho hyung, right?” Hyunshik stopped him. “Yeah, he said he was expecting someone from him office and told me to clear out. Who knew it’d be you? Come in, won’t you?”

Flabbergasted, Sungjong stepped inside. So he had Minho’s flat alright and by the sound of it, Hyunshik lived there as well.

That’s strange, Minho hyung never mentioned a flat mate.

As he kicked off his shoes, he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. What if Hyunshik wasn’t just a flat mate? That would explain why he had never been mentioned and also why he had been ordered to ‘clear out’ for Sungjong’s arrival.

Please let it not be true, he prayed silently, biting his lips.

“He’s through there, go right in.” Hyunshik pointed towards a hallway on the other side of the living room, which the younger barely took in. His mind was still reacting to the presence of Hyunshik in this flat and the significance of it.

At the end of the long, carpeted hallway, there was a door, slightly ajar. Knocking twice, he let himself in, for the first time dreading an encounter with the executive editor, his most favorite person in the office.

This is not how it should be, he thought bitterly. Why do I always end up like this?

“Sungjong, you came!”

Sungjong was shocked because that was definitely not Minho’s voice. But then he realized it was just the hoarser version, like a frog was caught in his throat. The man was lying on a queen-sized bed, blankets drawn all the way up to his chin. Raising his head by a bit, he offered a genuine smile, but it didn’t have the usual effect on him. No, he wasn’t still dwelling on Hyunshik, he was too worried to harbor any other thought.

However, all those thoughts were put to a halt when he got a better look at the man’s face.

Minho looked nothing like himself. From where he stood, Sungjong could see an emaciated man with dark circles under his eyes and cracked lips. His face was thin and pale, his eyes bloodshot. For the first time since he’d known him, his hair was not well-groomed.

Dropping his bag, Sungjong ran up to the bed for a closer look. Running his hand through his tousled hair, that felt coarse under his fingers, he called his name, feeling helpless. He had never imagined he would see him like this, the usually impeccably-dressed and chic executive editor. It was like he had aged ten years all of a sudden, like water had been off his body.

Minho had closed his eyes at Sungjong’s touch. his chapped lips, he said, “Thanks for coming. I was dying, now I feel a bit alive.”

“Shh, don’t say that,” Sungjong chided softly, feeling the temperature of his skin as his hand brushed against his forehead. “You’re burning up, you have to see a doctor!”

“I already did. You met Hyunshik on your way in, right? He called the doctor and got me my medicines,” Minho croaked, a silly little smile adorning his smiles. “But it’s good to know you care.”

“Of course I care,” he muttered. The unease from before came back at the mention of Hyunshik. He hadn’t expected the elder to mention him – how would he explain his relationship to him? Should he ask or just let it slide for now? After all, Minho was running a temperature and he might be delirious. “Yeah, Hyunshik…”

“Handsome, isn’t he? He’s training to become a model, but not at Star. He got in at Royal, he’ll probably debut in a year.”

That explained why he had seemed really well-groomed. Royal was a rival fashion magazine of Star and was well known for producing some of the top models of the country.

Well, he has what it takes to be a model.

“And you know him because…” He couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. He knew he’d find no solace in the information but at least it would be better than being kept hanging.

“He’s my brother. Well, cousin, but we’re pretty close. When he came to Seoul to become a model, I asked him to stay with me,” the executive editor recited in a weak voice. A bit of color had returned to his face.

Sungjong sighed in relief. So it wasn’t what he had been speculating – the relationship between Minho and Hyunshik. He wished he could trust the elder more but he had had such rotten luck and he had heard so much about his reputation that he couldn’t help but believe the worst.

They’re just cousins.

“I told the punk to get lost before you arrive, but he took his sweet time, that idiot,” Minho said, smiling fondly.

“Why?”

Minho blinked, smiling coyly.

“I wanted to be alone with you.” Even in his croaky voice, he sounded appealing.

Sungjong’s heart had already melted seeing Minho’s condition but now butterflies were added to the picture. The familiar fluttering in his stomach that he associated with the executive editor returned, causing him to lose weight in his limbs.

He gets me every time.

“You need to take something for your f-fever,” he said, trying to sound matter-of-fact and stop his voice from trembling. He didn’t want Minho to know what sort of effect he had on him, at least not yet, not until he was sure about him.

“There’s some paracetamol I’m supposed to take.”

“Right, right.” He straightened back up, looking around the room for the prescription. He found it on the bedside table and looked through it quickly. It said that paracetamol should be taken with food. “You need to eat something,” he announced.

“Oh, anything I want?” The hint of mischief in Minho’s voice made Sungjong shake his head. Even when he was ill, he had the mind to fool around.

“I’ll make some soup.”

He showed himself to the kitchen and after some investigation, he found everything he needed to whip up some chicken soup. It was the first time he was cooking for someone so he was nervous. Especially because it was Minho and subconsciously, he was already trying to impress him.

By the time he carried the tray into the room, Minho was asleep. He coaxed him awake, gently brushing his hair with his fingers, then helped him to sit upright on the bed. Minho refused to use his own hands so the younger had to feed him, blowing on the hot soup on the spoon to cool it off before offering it to him, just like his mom used to when he was a little kid.

After the soup and the medicine, Minho let out a content sigh, looking at Sungjong with doe eyes.

“What?” he had to ask.

Wordlessly, he patted the space on the bed beside him, still looking at him with a wistful glance.

“No, you’re kidding!”

“Please? Just cuddling, nothing else, I promise.”

He had cuddled before with his boyfriends, maybe even Hyunshik, but that had been after he was in a relationship with them. Right now, he couldn’t call Minho his boyfriend – he was barely his wooer – and he’d probably be breaking so many rules that dictated senior-junior relationship at the office. But there was no one from the office here, no one to see or report anything.

“Please, pretty please.”

Heaving a defeated sigh, he climbed onto the bed, feeling goosebumps all over his body. This was not supposed to happen – this was not he had expected. Nevertheless, he couldn’t say he was too dissatisfied as he felt Minho’s arm wrapping around his body. He froze for a moment, but the elder didn’t try to become any more intimate.

“Much better,” he whispered in his ear, causing his ear lobe to tickle.

During the time he had spent with Minho, he had forgotten about Myungsoo, although the black cloud of the news of the editor getting engaged was lurking in a far off corner in his brain. But it wasn’t enough to take over him, at least not when he was with Minho. The executive editor might be the answer to all his problems; whether right or wrong, he still couldn’t tell.