BCRD 10

It was truly a relief. That I wasn’t just a substitute for his brother…

The starting point didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was that he had taken an interest in me. That his kindness toward me wasn’t entirely because of his brother. Yes. Whether I seemed pitiful or reminded him of his brother didn’t matter. I didn’t need to care.

My throat suddenly felt dry. The tension that had unknowingly gripped me began to dissipate.

I lifted my empty glass and held it out to him.

“One more, please.”

He frowned. But he didn’t stop me or tell me to quit drinking. With a sigh-like chuckle, he picked up the sake bottle and added a playful mutter.

“This kid sure knows how to make me serve him.”

To cut to the chase, I got drunk. Alone. And early.

“Ugh…”

My head was spinning, and my stomach churned. It was a disaster caused by one glass of sake, four shots of soju, and a bottle of beer. Honestly, I was shocked. I thought I could hold my liquor. Because my brother could. My dad too—our family’s men were all heavy drinkers. They could down five bottles of soju without showing a hint of drunkenness, and if they set their minds to it, they could handle ten in a day. So I thought I’d be a heavyweight too… but I wasn’t. I was wrong. A heavyweight? Hardly. Three shots of soju had me feeling it, and the beer I stubbornly added knocked me out completely. My dreams of a lively drinking life were clearly doomed.

After groaning with my forehead pressed against the table for a while, I struggled to lift my head. There he was, resting his chin in his hand, watching me with amusement. I didn’t need to ask to know he was perfectly fine.

“No way. We drank together… so why’re you… so fine, Mister?”

Damn. Why’s my speech like this?

My tongue felt endlessly sluggish. My mind was still functioning, but my body wasn’t cooperating.

“Because I paced myself.”

Paced himself?

He definitely drank more than me… So he’s the real heavyweight. Maybe even more than my dad or brother.

“But, Mister… are you always… like… like this?”

I wanted to describe my churning stomach and dizzy head, but I couldn’t find the right words. Instead, I waved my hand in circles in the air, and he seemed to understand, lifting one corner of his mouth.

“You’re properly drunk.”

I couldn’t deny it.

“Yesss… You’re right… I’m drunk…”

My head slumped down again. Fortunately, just before it hit the table, something caught my forehead. A strange mix of cool and warm… It was the same sensation I felt on my skin earlier. I didn’t need to look to know it was his hand.

The hand supporting my forehead slowly lowered. Thanks to it, my head settled safely onto the table without a collision. Yet his hand didn’t pull away. With my forehead resting on his hand, I mumbled.

“Thank you… Thank you… I’m grateful… But why… why do you keep doing nice things?”

Words spilled out without passing through my brain. It seemed my mind was starting to malfunction too.

“I’m not your brother… but you keep… being so nice…”

“…”

“What’s the reason… What is it… I could tell you… why I want to get closer to you, Mister…”

“…”

“Should I tell you? Huh?”

I kept rambling, but he didn’t respond once. Was he dismissing it as drunken nonsense? Honestly, with my slurred speech, it sounded like that even to me.

I continued spouting unfiltered words,

“I’ll tell you… If you ask… I’ll tell you everything… Because I… I mean, I…”

And then I passed out.

When I came to briefly, I was in a car. My head was resting on someone’s lap, and a slightly damp cloth touched my lips. I wanted to confirm if it was him, but my body wouldn’t move as I wanted. It felt like a lead weight was pressing down on me. The moving car made my stomach churn even more than before…

“Ugh…”

A groan of discomfort slipped through my throat. Afraid I might throw up something worse than spit, I closed my eyes again.

The second time I opened my eyes, a dim light greeted me. My vision was blurry, as if clouded by rainwater, making it hard to distinguish objects. I realized I was still under the influence of alcohol.

I noticed something else too. I was lying in a bed, and someone was beside me.

With half-open eyes, I turned toward the presence I felt. Staring at the blurry figure, I mumbled.

“Mister? Is that… you, Mister?”

My pronunciation was slightly better than before, suggesting some of the drunkenness had faded from my tongue.

In response to my question, a hand reached out. A rough-textured hand, contrary to its appearance, brushed back the hair scattered on my forehead. It was him. Certain of it, I impulsively grabbed his hand. Thankfully, he didn’t pull away. Relieved, I mumbled aimlessly again.

“Mister. I’m all grown up… My head’s big, my body’s… big…”

“…”

“I’m grown, so… I can do anything…”

“…”

“Drink alcohol… stay out all night…”

What else could an adult do without hesitation?

…I didn’t know. Trying to think only made me dizzier and my stomach churn more. My tongue was sobering up, but my head was still pickled.

I gave up and turned off my brain’s switch. I decided to stop thinking and let my instincts take over. My head began rubbing against his palm on its own.

“Mmm…”

The rough texture against my skin felt good. The sharp scent of his body lingering on my senses felt good. His willingness to accept my touch felt good.

I just liked him.

Eventually, my lips brushed against his palm. A flinch, as if he’d touched something hot, ran through his hand.

Kiss. My lips pecked his skin, like a small kiss. Another flinch as his hand reacted again.

I closed my eyes.

“Mister… I’m… Haejin… Just Haejin… Not your brother… not a kid… A grown-up… who can do anything… Haejin…”

My consciousness, which had briefly surfaced, sank back to the depths. Just before everything went dark,

“I know.”

His voice flowed into my ears.

“I know too well, and that’s the problem.”

Followed by a deep sigh,

“So stop spilling your guts.”

And a faint chuckle.

💳

The next day, I woke up on an unfamiliar bed. Alone.

The surroundings were dark. But two things became clear through the light seeping through the curtains. One, it was morning after a day had passed. Two, this was a hotel room I’d never been to before.

“Ugh…”

As I sat up, a headache and nausea hit me like they’d been waiting. Just in case, I covered my mouth and walked to the window, pulling back the heavy blackout curtains. Light flooded in like water bursting through a dam.

The first thing I saw in the clear view was the vast sky and sea. Even though I’d seen them plenty while drinking yesterday, they felt new again today.

Drawn in, I opened the door and stepped onto the balcony. The late winter sea breeze rushed in. It felt more refreshing than cold.

I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the breeze. The crisp air was quite effective at clearing my dizzy head and unsettled stomach.

Was it my imagination? I felt a familiar scent in the air surrounding me.

It might be a delusion born of longing. It was more likely an olfactory hallucination.

But I definitely felt it.

The lingering trace he left behind.

The mark of his presence, indicating he’d stayed here for a while.

The record of him staying up through the long night, lost in thought, while I slept.