TTDOTO 6.2

“A close hyung called me out. Said that guy wanted to meet me. Club owners, doctors, and celebrities—all tremble before him- told me to stay sharp. Fuck, I was scared shitless, but it was some trivial request.”

“He knew we were setting up Lee Jae-an. Told me to make sure Jae-an didn’t get fucked over.”

“That day, I gave you fewer drugs so you’d wake up midway. Stalled until the cops came—all thanks to me. So, get me drugs or money, anything, within a week.”

The incident’s details were shocking, but Han-seong’s final words made Jae-an shake his head. With his ID revoked, trapped in Jae-rim’s house, getting drugs or money was impossible. Saying so, Han-seong stomped, enraged.

He leaned in close, bloodshot eyes and rancid breath twisting Jae-an’s face.

“You know I still have your photos, right? Want your face plastered nationwide? I can crash and die, no problem.”

The snake-like threat shattered Jae-an’s calm. Biting back curses, he grabbed Han-seong’s collar, but Han-seong gripped his other wrist painfully. Drugged strength overpowered him. Han-seong, clutching both wrists as if to break them, spewed nonsense.

“Keep the promise, and I’ll delete the photos in front of you. Please, think of it as my last wish: save me. I saved you… Why are you trying to kill me?”

Han-seong demanded, Jae-an refused. Their one-sided words clashed; no dialogue formed.

“A week from now, here. Our meeting’s a secret, got it? If he knows I broke the deal, he won’t let me off easy… I won’t go quietly.”

With that, Han-seong fled. Staring at his retreating figure, Jae-an dropped his gaze to the ground. Spilled coffee and red marks on his wrists signaled disaster’s arrival.

Days passed. His mind was hell.

Jae-rim acted as if Jae-an’s daze was normal, unchanged, but seeing his face made Jae-an’s stomach churn.

True, Jae-rim ensured Han-seong’s gang rape attempt failed, but knowing the danger and letting Jae-an walk into it was unforgivable. Anger kept turning to Jae-rim.

If he hadn’t gone that day, no photos would exist, no suicide attempt, no imprisonment by Jae-rim.

But he lacked the courage to confront Jae-rim or reveal Han-seong’s photos. Jae-rim, who killed without mercy, and Han-seong, who wouldn’t “go quietly,” were unpredictable lunatics. Jae-an wanted to resolve this without provoking them.

Getting drugs was too hard, so he brainstormed for money. Stealing Jae-rim’s valuables crossed his mind, but the CCTV everywhere stopped him. He eyed watches and wallets on shelves, turning away with lingering regret.

The week Han-seong set passed with nothing done. Anxiety mounted, like hugging a ticking bomb. Sitting on the sofa, biting his lips, Jae-rim approached from the terrace, cigarette in hand.

“Shower. Tutoring time.”

“Yeah… okay.”

Lately, he wanted to stay holed up. Even walks, once freeing, became fearful; he hurried, head down, dreading Han-seong. He considered asking for a ride but feared suspicion.

During tutoring, Jae-rim sat him between his thighs, fondling freely while listening. Jae-an couldn’t focus on problems or touches. His mind churned with money-making schemes.

Spill coffee on the CCTV hub to steal a watch? Wear layers of Jae-rim’s gifted clothes, sell them to Han-seong secondhand? Every idea was desperate, impractical.

“Hyung, I solved it.”

Jae-rim’s voice snapped his reverie. Ignoring repeated calls, Jae-rim’s face soured, pinching his nipple hard.

“Daydreaming while with me?”

“Ugh… sorry.”

Ignoring the painful twist, Jae-an graded. Explaining a wrong answer, his words tangled, his hand faltering on equations. Problems that were once easy blurred, unreadable. Dropping the pen, he wiped cold sweat on his shirt.

“Here’s how to solve… wait…”

Giving up, Jae-an read the answer key haltingly. Jae-rim crossed his legs, eyes scanning Jae-an’s face slowly.

“Something up, hyung?”

“No.”

“You’ve been off for days. Waking up screaming at night.”

Blinking, Jae-an touched his neck. He knew he woke drenched in sweat, but not screaming. Han-seong’s issue haunted his subconscious.

Copying the answer key, he murmured, “If I’m loud… should I sleep elsewhere?”

“Nah.”

Jae-an explained the solution as if solving it himself. Asking if he understood, Jae-rim nodded halfheartedly, kneading Jae-an’s thigh. Uninterested in math, a small mercy.

“Jae-rim…”

“Yeah.”

Lifting him lightly, Jae-rim set him aside. His slanted gaze hit. Jae-an’s lips twitched—speak or not? Heart pounding, anxiety surged.

Photos, drugs, three million, a week, spilled coffee, bitterness, photos, drugs, three million, a week, spilled coffee, bitterness.

The day’s memory sharpened with his racing heart. Fear pushed him. Unfixed clothes, he blurted like a hunted man.

“Um… no tutoring fee?”

Squeezing courage, his voice shrank pathetically. Jae-rim frowned slightly.

“Tutoring fee?”

“Yeah.”

Nodding boldly, he avoided eye contact. Jae-rim stared, then asked casually, “Need money?”

“Yeah… kinda.”

“Why?”

“Money’s… nice to have.”

“For what?”

A hint of amusement in Jae-rim’s voice made Jae-an turn. Legs crossed, Jae-rim smiled faintly. Expecting anger, the mild reaction emboldened him.

“Just… buy underwear, save up.”

“No need for underwear. Save for what? I’ll buy it.”

Fidgeting with his fingers, Jae-an had no more excuses. Bad at lying, his “underwear” plea was shot down. Lowering his shirt, he looked down.

“Forget it…”

“Don’t pout. Just curious. You don’t usually ask.”

The cheery tone felt hateful today. Rubbing his forehead, Jae-an sighed.

“It’s really… just underwear. Ignore me.”

“You want them that bad?”

Jae-rim laughed. But he only laughed, offering no underwear or fee. The bold plea ended as absurd whining.

With a shadowed face, Jae-an half-finished the lesson and left the office. Each step down echoed with Jae-rim’s following footsteps. Amid their crossing steps, he obsessed over money.

Dazed, heading out, a staff member called.

“Hyungnim! Coffee’s ready!”

“Leaving without it?”

Everyone stared oddly as he forgot the coffee. Jae-rim’s gaze joined. Turning, Jae-an saw the white cup on the bar.

“Oh… thanks.”

Bowing, he grabbed it. Turning to leave, he collided with someone, staggering. Jae-rim caught him, but the coffee cup fell.

“Shit, what the hell!”

A voice snapped. Realizing, Jae-an paled. Turning from the bar, he’d bumped a customer entering. Their clothes and shoes were coffee-stained. Jae-an bowed.

“S-sorry…”

Startled staff brought tissues. Jae-an wiped the man’s clothes, but the stains on a white shirt wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck.”

Wiping the white-shirted man’s hand, his friend cursed, frowning, shaking coffee off his leather shoes.

“Fucking hell, these are leather. What now?”

“It’s fine. An accident.”

The white-shirted man calmed his friend. Jae-an kept apologizing, crouching to wipe the shoes. A shout rained down.

“Rubbing wet leather ruins it!”

“S-sorry, sorry.”

Struggling, cold sweat ran down his back, stomach churning. A hand pulled Jae-an up. Jae-rim took the soaked tissue, standing before the customers. Blocking Jae-an, he bowed politely.

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do it. Hey! What about this?”

The shoe-stained man pointed past Jae-rim at Jae-an, understandably angry. The stained clothes and shoes were luxury brands.

“C-compensation…”

As Jae-an stepped forward, Jae-rim blocked him again. Nearly hitting Jae-rim’s shoulder, Jae-an shrank. Jae-rim pulled two business cards from his wallet.

“We’ll cover the clothes and shoes at full price. Contact here.”

Jae-an looked up at Jae-rim’s broad back. His polite apology carried an unshakable confidence—not just from height, build, or cold demeanor. Jae-rim always exuded an intimidating aura.

The shoe-stained man, reading the card’s title, seemed to understand why Jae-rim stepped in. Clicking his tongue, he pocketed it. The white-shirted man smiled at Jae-rim.

“No need for compensation. Dry cleaning will do.”

“Hey, who are you to say it’s fine?”

“Your shoes are clean, why’re you louder?”

Silenced, the friend muttered, barely audible. Jae-rim asked, “Then, dine comfortably? We’ll cover the cost.”

The angry man, sour-faced, asked his friend, “Clothes ruined, you eating?”

“What’s clothes got to do with food? Let’s eat. It’s hard to get a table here.”

The white-shirted man smiled softly, his gaze brushing Jae-an, who lowered his head again.

As they argued, a staff member offered menus, leading them to a table. The white-shirted man stopped, turning. His coffee-stained gaze landed on Jae-an, still bowing behind Jae-rim.

“We’re fine, don’t feel too bad.”

One was kind, keeping things calm. Jae-an exhaled, bowing again. Jae-rim lifted Jae-an’s face, cupping his cheeks.

“Scared?”

“A bit…”

“No big deal, breathe.”

The casual tone, oddly soothing, stung Jae-an’s eyes. The customer declining compensation helped, but if the shoe-stained man had raged, Jae-rim would’ve paid fully.

Money wasn’t the issue. Failing to get money right after trying felt hopeless. The world seemed to mock him, crushing him. Sighing, Jae-an apologized, worried.

“Sorry. If they ask for compensation later…”

“So what. Got money?”

“….”

“Was the money talk to cover accidents?”

Jae-rim’s joking hit stung, shredding Jae-an’s dwindling pride.

“I’ll get another coffee, wait.”

“No, I’m going.”

“Barely breathing, and you’ll walk? Ride with me.”

Jae-rim grabbed his wrist, but Jae-an twisted free. Too hurt, he needed solitude.

Jae-rim’s eyes cooled at the rejection, but with eyes watching, he said nothing. Leaning on the crowd, Jae-an declared, “I’ll walk… I want to.”

Ignoring Jae-rim’s sharp gaze, he fled the restaurant, walking aimlessly.

Today, he’d planned to use the tutoring fee excuse to get money for Han-seong. The flimsy plan’s failure pushed his anxiety to the edge.

Before, he’d have used savings or casually asked Jae-rim. Now, with no identity or penny, he was a hollow shell. Small issues became disasters.

The coffee spill was like that. Without Jae-rim, what would’ve happened? The man glaring might’ve grabbed him.

Powerlessness overwhelmed him. Exhausted, Jae-an stopped, staring at the ground.

Once emotions stirred, they spiraled. The pavement blurred, breath quickened. Suicidal thoughts filled his head.

He needed to find money, not wallow, but his mind wouldn’t work.

If he smashed his head on that stone wall, would the blood clear his frozen brain? But he knew he wasn’t allowed even self-inflicted wounds.

“…Fuck. What do you want from me?”

Muttering, Jae-an looked away from the wall. Dragging his steps, his face was expressionless.