F60

Winter passed without Siwoo.

Yeonho had warned him via message not to contact him again, but he couldn’t bring himself to block Siwoo’s number or change his own. He told himself he didn’t want to hear from him, but when no messages came, it hurt.

From time to time, he wandered near Siwoo’s home in the mornings, just to check if he was doing well. Thankfully, Siwoo seemed to be living steadily and healthily, just like before. Yeonho didn’t know whether he was still looking for a way to be loved and win Yeonho back, or if he was trying to forget.

If there was one bit of good news, it was that at the start of the new year, Seong Junhee had been promoted to general manager of the resort and transferred back to Gangwon Province. Yeonho no longer had to live with him. Of course, whether Junhee was physically near or not, his very existence continued to sicken Yeonho.

That winter, Yeonho began putting his life in order. He erased and cleared away all traces he didn’t want to leave behind. He didn’t just clean his room. He deleted accounts, cleared out emails, and permanently erased files.

He asked Junhee to delete the videos as promised, now that he had broken up with Siwoo. But Junhee didn’t keep his word.

“You really believed that? You think I’d go through the trouble of adding mosaic blur to those videos? I haven’t uploaded anything. But if you don’t listen to me, I will.”

He had lied from the beginning about ever posting them.

Yeonho began considering how to bring it all to an end. He wanted it to look like an accident. The abuse he suffered from Junhee was something only Junhee’s family and close acquaintances needed to know. His own friends didn’t need to find out.

So he decided on a car crash. In a place where no one else would be hurt, he would put Junhee in the passenger seat and drive off a cliff. The man who had destroyed Joo Yeonho’s mind and soul, the man who had put the person he loved in danger. There was no reason such a person should be left alive. With the method chosen, all that remained was time and place.

Yeonho wanted to be free of the depression, obsession, anxiety, and insomnia that had wrapped around him like chains. When Siwoo had been by his side, he had managed to stay afloat. But after losing even that, it became unbearable to go on.

And still, amid it all, he developed a foolish new desire. If it had to end this way, he wanted to die on Siwoo’s birthday. February 23. The day Siwoo was born, and also the day they had first met. His death would be a birthday gift.

Would Siwoo remember him forever if he received that gift? Whether he felt relieved or grieved by Yeonho’s disappearance, wouldn’t he still think of him every time that date came around?

Yeonho didn’t want those around him to suspect that his mental state had been unstable before his death.

That’s why he joined the freshman retreat again this year, from February 19 to 21, at the same location as last year. He planned to spend those days appearing cheerful and normal. After the students left, he would stay two more days. And on the 23rd, he would take Junhee in the car and head to Seoul.

If he died in a car crash on the 23rd, everyone who had gone on the retreat would think it had been an unfortunate accident. Eventually, the news would reach Siwoo through people at school. The plan was perfect.

When Yeonho arrived at Seongam Resort, a place he had thought of as a second home since childhood, he looked around with calm eyes. It was time to say goodbye to this place too. It held precious memories of meeting Siwoo, but not all of them were good. He had spent too much time here with Seong Junhee.

To commemorate his final visit, he turned on his phone camera. Just before switching it to selfie mode, a familiar figure appeared on the front-facing camera. Yeonho stared at him through the screen. Dressed in a black turtleneck and black coat, that beautiful man stood facing him.

He hadn’t expected Siwoo to attend the freshman retreat. This wasn’t part of the plan. Siwoo walked straight toward him. Yeonho’s heart pounded like it had the day they first met. Standing in front of him, Siwoo spoke.

“I came thinking maybe I’d see you. And here you are.”

“I didn’t think you’d come, now that you’re a senior.”

“Yeah. I didn’t really want to come, being in my last year and all.”

An awkward silence settled between them. Siwoo looked worn out, like he’d been through a lot. Yeonho felt the urge to touch his cheek.

“You lost weight.”

“Not much. About three kilograms.”

Siwoo smiled as he replied. Yeonho suddenly felt like he really could seal him up inside a capsule. Maybe he should take him to the afterlife in one? No. What crime had that small body ever committed? As Yeonho scolded himself for such a ridiculous thought, Siwoo asked,

“Want to go outside and talk for a bit?”

Of course he wanted to. But Yeonho forced himself to stay rational and refused. Four days before his death, he couldn’t give Siwoo false hope and drag him back into a living hell.

“No. Let’s not.”

Siwoo accepted the answer.

“I figured you’d say that. But… are you really living happily?”

With dark circles under his eyes, Yeonho grinned wide and nodded with all his might. Siwoo didn’t look convinced.

“Your face doesn’t look it at all.”

Yeonho fumbled for an excuse about looking tired when a young man with a cute face came running over to Siwoo. Yeonho glanced at the name tag around his neck. First-year student in the Department of Architecture. One of Siwoo’s juniors. The young man spoke to him.

“Do you have any cash, sunbae?”

“Why?”

“There’s a gacha machine at the snack bar. I really want to try it, but I don’t have any money.”

Yeonho’s eyes flicked up. A freshman asking a senior for something like that without hesitation? He couldn’t understand it. Were they already close? Had they met before the retreat started? Even though Yeonho was preparing to leave this world, he still felt oddly offended.

There weren’t many people who acted so warm and familiar with Siwoo. In his experience, he was vulnerable to people who boldly crossed boundaries and shook him, people like Joo Yeonho.

Siwoo took out his wallet and handed a fifty-thousand won bill to the cheeky freshman.

“Here.”

“Thank you. If you give me your account, I’ll transfer it back right away.”

“It’s fine. Get coffee with the others, and use whatever’s left on the gacha.”

“Wow, thank you so much!”

The freshman who had received pocket money from Siwoo walked off, and the moment he was gone, Yeonho pouted and muttered,

“There he goes again, dating another freshman. Are you going to play that weird Jenga game with them while drinking tonight too?”

“What are you even saying? You want a senior to tell a freshman to bring back change and wire over three thousand won? And I threw that Jenga set away last year.”

“Whatever. You said you’d die without me, but you’re doing just fine.”

Yeonho turned to leave, but Siwoo quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He leaned in close, lips near Yeonho’s ear, and whispered in a voice too soft for others to hear.

“I never broke up with you. You saying it’s over doesn’t make it true. You’ll come back to me eventually, so why would I die? I have to be here when you return.”

Yeonho narrowed his eyes and gave him a sideways glare. And the moment Siwoo’s breath brushed his cheek, and it was absurd, but he found himself wanting to sleep with him. Looking straight into his eyes, Yeonho whispered in a small, almost entranced voice,

“Want to sleep with me tonight? I’ll get us a room.”

The toy, the one Yeonho had once called his dildo, stared at him for a moment, then nodded, accepting his role once more.

Just then, the same freshman who had received money earlier returned, placing a cup of coffee and a capsule toy in Siwoo’s hands.

“A gift, sunbae.”

“Oh, thanks.”

As soon as the kid left, Yeonho snatched the capsule from Siwoo’s hands and opened it. Out popped a puppy with oversized ears. Siwoo’s eyes widened.

“It’s Joo Yeonho.”

“This is not me. Why would this be me?”

Yeonho walked toward the trash bin with it. Siwoo reached out after him, following close behind.

“Give it here. To me, it’s you.”

“I have to be the one to pull it out for it to be me. How could something he got be me?”

Ignoring Siwoo’s words, Yeonho tossed it into the trash. He pulled out his phone and logged in with his VIP membership for Seongam Resort.

“I’ll book the room. You go take care of your stuff for now. I’ll send you the room number later, so just come there.”

After sending Siwoo off, Yeonho stepped outside the lodging building, overwhelmed by the tightness in his chest. Suddenly, he felt wronged. So much that his stomach twisted with pain, not metaphorically, but real, physical pain.

Once he died, Kim Siwoo would probably grieve a little, be comforted by someone else, and then move on to a new love.

“This isn’t fair. It’s not fair.”

Yeonho booked a room in one of the three resort wings where he wouldn’t run into Seong Junhee. After spending enough time with the other students to avoid suspicion, he slipped away unnoticed and checked in after midnight. Then he called Siwoo and gave him the room number.

About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

The moment the door opened, without saying a word, their lips met. Tongues tangled. It had been so long that even breathing together was difficult. Yeonho had to remind himself over and over not to fall asleep in his arms.

Then the doorbell rang again. Their lips parted. Yeonho went to answer it. A moment later, he returned holding a bouquet and a card, delivered by courier. Siwoo stepped up without hesitation, snatched the card, and read it.

I’ll come over right after my night shift ends.
I love you, Yeonho.

Yeonho felt a spike of fear and rage. Seong Junhee must have checked the reservation records and confirmed his check-in. He had deliberately sent the bouquet and card, probably suspecting Yeonho would be with Siwoo now.

Siwoo stared at the card for a long time, then asked in a calm but furious voice,

“After you sleep with me, your boyfriend’s coming over? Busy schedule. Impressive stamina, too.”

He looked at Yeonho with affectionate but bitter eyes and continued in a gentle tone.

“You couldn’t stand the empty time between, so you used me…”

In that moment, Yeonho gazed blankly out the window at the snowy ski slope and made up his mind. He couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to kill Seong Junhee today.