Into The Thrill

The story of a woman of such stature, Seok Hwa, the daughter of a chaebol, involved with someone like Hyun Woojin, was bound to carry a weight of its own. "How could a woman of such beauty and pride, her mother being Seok Hwa, endure such humiliation? She proposed to break off their engagement, but Hyun Woojin stepped in, insisting on taking responsibility. She couldn’t bear it and ended up taking her own life. Even then, Hyun Woojin wanted to marry her, fully ready to take responsibility. Thanks to that, Kim Jeong-geun, her father, still holds him in high regard, treating him like a son-in-law."

Normally, the wise thing to do when someone in her state suggests breaking off an engagement is to pretend not to know and agree. But Hyun Woojin chose to take responsibility for her. Haewon felt down because, unbeknownst to him, his subconscious was aware that Hyun Woojin had not forgotten her.
With a heavy sigh, the chilling wind felt like it tightened around his lungs. And in that moment, Haewon realized just how deeply entangled he had become with Hyun Woojin.
"You're drunk."

"Maybe. I guess I am. Feeling sleepy."
It was distasteful to talk about it. Someone like him, who preferred transient encounters, wouldn't want to spill cherished memories. Haewon felt the same.
Following the tragedy with his fiancée, Hyun Woojin had lived a life of casual relationships, fulfilling only his physical needs.

Haewon wanted to ask if he was merely serving as a means to satisfy those needs. Even for him, who typically spoke his mind without filtering his thoughts, this question remained lodged in his throat. He swallowed it as if gulping down a lump.
He had said that his feelings mattered, yet Hyun Woojin did not want just anyone in even a casual relationship. Haewon had treated him as just anyone, and Hyun Woojin had vowed to set him straight. Had he ever spoken sweet words to her, the same ones he uttered now, claiming it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing because reincarnations tended to diverge?
"Get a taxi now. Go straight to the officetel. Don't wander off somewhere else."

A warning tone came through the phone.
Haewon longed to be close to him.
He wanted to touch his face, to bury his hot face in his shoulder and fall asleep like that. Instead of following his instructions, Haewon shuffled his feet, kicking at cigarette butts on the street.

"Don’t be nice to me. Don't act like you care. What will you do if I start clinging to you?"
"Clinging? Mun Haewon? Sounds like something a passing dog would laugh at."
He spoke as if he knew Haewon well. It sounded like he was saying he dealt with Haewon because of his personality. Even if they lost touch starting tomorrow, Haewon wouldn’t persistently call or beg for meetings. That was how he handled people—avoiding seriousness, which eventually became daunting.

Even his beloved violin wasn’t an obsession. Obsessions were for pathetic people like Lee Taeshin. Not that it was repulsive; he just never wanted to be that way. But with Hyun Woojin, Haewon wanted to be pathetic.
"Really? I feel like doing something a passing dog would laugh at."
"What are you trying to say?"

"I like you, Hyun Woojin."
Silence followed. He liked the sound of his voice over the phone. Other things weren’t necessarily bad. They weren't bad, and now he could say they were good.
Haewon ignored his intentional silence. He wanted to express his feelings for him with verbs and adorn those verbs with adjectives. Phrases he had never considered poetic swirled in his mouth.
"I don’t just want to strip in front of you; I want to give you my heart too."

"So, you’re saying you didn’t have feelings before?"
"Not that I had none, but I didn’t quite understand them. Now, I think I do."
"What do you think you understand?"

He sounded impatient, as if he couldn’t understand the talk of romance or teasing. Hyun Woojin was a fool.
"You’re just a smart idiot."
"What do you want to say?"

"Forget it."
He might be pretending not to understand, or he truly might not.
The silence lengthened.

Haewon stood still, watching people rush through the gray streets.
"I miss you."
Checking if he had hung up by looking at the screen, the seconds diligently accumulated. He brought the phone back to his ear.

"I miss you, Grandpa."
The suggestion that he hadn't gotten over his dead fiancée was too unpleasant to voice. It seemed like it would drive Hyun Woojin away. He felt like he was finally getting somewhere and didn’t want it to end now.
"That's what I wanted to talk about while drinking. Should have come instead of going on a business trip."

"Should have, yeah."
No yearning to see him or calls for his name came back as expected.
"Hang up. I’m sleepy."

After ending the call, Haewon stared at his phone for a long time. The screen was off, reflecting his expressionless face.
It wasn't a confession, just a few honest words, but his heart felt cold. Revealing one’s true feelings was like tripping in the middle of a bustling street in the cold, where people huddle and hurry.
Regretting why he had stepped there in the first place, wishing time would stop, the embarrassment of wanting to evaporate, the despair of not being able to get up after falling—it was consuming Haewon. That was what liking someone felt like.

∞ ∞ ∞
 
 

 
Haewon's journey to Hyun Woojin's apartment didn't feel as cold as it should have, perhaps the alcohol in his system was working its magic. As he approached, the familiarity of the route and the brisk night air helped clear his mind, a sharp contrast to the swirling emotions within.
Standing in front of the officetel where he had waited for Hyun Woojin for countless hours, Haewon punched in the door code—supposedly the same as his own, a detail Hyun Woojin had mentioned offhandedly during one of their more intimate conversations. Despite expecting it not to work, as Haewon had never visited since that one time and this place served more as a transient lodging for Hyun Woojin, the door clicked open. Surprised by his own success, Haewon hesitated briefly before the lock could engage again, then quickly slipped inside.

Inside, Hyun Woojin’s space was meticulously arranged. The bedding on the bed was crisply folded, and personal items were minimal, limited to books and a golf bag beside the wardrobe—little to indicate that this space was lived in. The wardrobe itself housed an array of grayscale suits, white shirts, and ties, the uniform of a man with a precise and orderly life.
Haewon leaned his violin against the wall, feeling a strange sense of closeness to Hyun Woojin just by being in his private space without him. There was a sense of superiority, knowing he was penetrating a layer of Hyun Woojin’s life that few had.
Making himself at home, Haewon put a kettle on the electric stove and rummaged through the cabinets. He found a green tea teabag and some individually packaged coffee powders. Opting for a lightly brewed black coffee, he wandered leisurely around the apartment while his drink steeped.

Curiosity led him to open the wardrobe. The clothes inside were as meticulously organized as he had anticipated: shirts, jackets, and dress pants hung as if they had just returned from the dry cleaners. In the first drawer, neatly folded underwear, vests, and socks emitted the fresh scent of fabric softener when he brought them to his nose.
In the second drawer, he found workout gear—golf apparel, shoes, and gloves, and in the bottom drawer, a briefcase similar in style but different in color to one Hyun Woojin carried, alongside a black backpack that looked like it was from his student days.
Haewon wasn’t one to place value ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) on objects based on their cost. He usually purchased things that appealed to him, which often turned out to be expensive, branded items.

Despite his polished appearance, Hyun Woojin's personality was notably austere. The watch on his wrist was a mid-range, durable brand known for its water resistance, and Haewon had never seen him wear a different one. It spoke volumes about Hyun Woojin’s practical nature, preferring functionality over luxury.
Hyun Woojin's suit wasn't tailored but off-the-rack. He seemed uninterested in showcasing his looks, caring little for brands or prices as long as his clothes were clean. His wardrobe might have lacked any flair even after a thorough search, but his character, which valued inner qualities over outward appearances, was appealing. It would have been disappointing if his wardrobe had been flashy.
Haewon ran his fingers over the neatly arranged books on the shelf. They were all professional books related to work, and there wasn't a single book that he had placed out of personal interest. The only non-professional book seemed to have been reluctantly given at some corporate CEO’s book launch event.

The worn books were either work-related or law training materials. Constitutional law, civil law, criminal law, administrative law, civil litigation, legal philosophy, records of criminal practice, fully revised editions of special criminal laws, criminal evidence law and theory of fact recognition, legal English translations, economic law collection, fundamental problems of legal philosophy, collection of civil judgments...
Reading each title was so challenging it could leave one breathless. The thought of having to study, memorize, and apply all this information to a profession made it perfectly clear why he sometimes seemed so mechanical.
Hyun Woojin was baffled at how Haewon could memorize music pieces that lasted over forty minutes, but Haewon found it even more incomprehensible that Hyun Woojin had all these books in his head. He was genuinely grateful to his father for letting him pursue music instead of making him study.

In the freshly laundered bedding, there was hardly a trace of his scent, but it lingered on the clothes and in the books. Haewon pulled out an especially well-worn law book. He lay down on the bed and flipped it open.
"......"
Haewon, who couldn't even write his own name in Chinese characters, found the book unreadable. Half of the text was in Chinese characters. Korean was mostly used for particles, conjunctions, and foreign terms, while the key terms were all written in Chinese.

There were circles drawn with a pencil in a few places, and lines were underlined. These were Hyun Woojin's marks. Haewon buried his nose in the book, inhaling the scent, the smell he missed so much.
Fumbling with the unreadable book, he eventually fell asleep. He woke up to the sound of the door lock disengaging as if in a dream. The law book he had been lying on was now wet with his drool.
Startled, he sat up. The door to the officetel was opening. Hyun Woojin had said he wouldn't be back until the evening from his business trip in Busan. It was only seven in the morning.

It seemed Hyun Woojin had returned early. Wanting to surprise him, Haewon lay back down. But unexpectedly, the person who entered was a middle-aged woman. Holding a heavy-looking shopping bag in one hand and a handbag in the other, she stepped inside as if she'd been caught stealing, and her eyes met Haewon's.
Both paused simultaneously.
"......Who are you?"

She asked. She didn't seem like a maid, and from her demeanor and dress, she resembled Hyun Woojin's mother. Although she didn't look like him, she was the only middle-aged woman who could enter his officetel effortlessly.
Haewon slowly got out of bed. He hadn't expected to encounter Hyun Woojin's mother here. Various lies to avoid causing trouble for Hyun Woojin cluttered his mind.
If it were common for his mother to visit the officetel, that would be one thing, but Hyun Woojin had set the door lock to the same code as his home and told her she could come over anytime she wanted. Resentment towards Hyun Woojin was brewing.

"Who are you?"
Hyun Woojin's mother had stepped back outside to check the apartment number and then re-entered before asking. Haewon bowed slightly in greeting.
"Hello. I'm Moon Haewon, a junior from Hyun Woojin's school. I'm sorry. I was supposed to meet with senior yesterday, but he suddenly had to go on a business trip, and since I had come up from the country and had nowhere to go..., he said it was okay to stay here for a day."

Haewon made a rational and believable lie. His tone, which was usually direct, became incredibly polite and cautious in front of Seok Hwa.
"I apologize."
He hastily picked up his coat. He also grabbed his violin case from the floor. He tried not to make eye contact with Hyun Woojin’s mother as he was about to leave when she spoke up.

"Are you just going to leave?"
"Yes?"
"Weren't you supposed to meet Woojin?"

"Ah, we're supposed to meet later in the evening. I'll be leaving now. So..."
"No, wait."
She called him back as he was leaving. Hyun Woojin's mother didn't have a geeky son without friends to bring home. Somehow stiff, he stared back at her as she frowned and reached out her hand to his face. He instinctively stepped back, and she seemed to realize and retracted her hand.

"Wash your face before you go."
"What?"
He touched his chin and cheeks, feeling a thin piece of paper stuck to his face. It turned out to be the unreadable Chinese characters from the law book that had adhered to his face. Haewon awkwardly set down his violin and coat and headed to the bathroom. A sigh escaped him as he saw his reflection in the mirror.

His hair was disheveled, and a page from the law book was prettily stuck to his cheek and chin. He must have drooled quite a bit while sleeping uncomfortably. Haewon quickly washed his face and went back outside before she could see the law book he had been sleeping on sprawled out on the bed.
"Are you a law school junior or a judicial research and training institute junior?"
As she was arranging the shopping bag she had brought on the dining table, Hyun Woojin's mother glanced back and forth between the restored law book and the violin case.

"I'm a school junior. This is just a hobby."
If he were a law student, she might have asked him to write his name in Chinese characters, but Haewon belatedly realized that law was a field he couldn't cover with his quick wit.
It was absurd to claim he was a law student when he couldn't even write his own name in Chinese characters.

"That instrument looks nice. Is it a violin or a viola?"
"Yes? It's a violin."
"I also play the violin as a hobby. Us ladies go out to perform as volunteers."

His mother and father were doctors. The elegant sheen of pearl earrings was just visible under her short bob haircut.
"That's very noble of you. It must be busy."
"Do you know who I am?"

"Senior's mother..., aren't you?"
He swallowed dryly. Hyun Woojin's mother slightly nodded her head. Since she didn't resemble him much, Hyun Woojin must take after his father.
"May I take a look at your violin?"

"I'm sorry, but I really must be going. I have an appointment..., I'm already late."
"Don't be like that. Let's take a look. It seems like a really nice one."
Unable to strongly object and withdraw his hand, Haewon hesitated and just held out his hand. Hyun Woojin's mother swiftly took the Musafia violin wood case purchased in Italy. It was a case designed for safety, able to remain intact even if a car ran over it.

She pushed aside the side dishes she had brought and placed the case on the dining table.
"I really need to go..., I."
"Oh."

As she opened the case, a Brahms score that had been tucked inside the zipper fell out. Inside the somewhat ornate case lining, four bows hung. The first wood bow, made of Mongolian horsehair that adhered well to the strings and was made of wood of the same quality as the sound box, was the main bow worth over a hundred million. The second was for orchestra use, the third for chamber music, and the fourth was a carbon bow just for rough use. It was something to be thrown in anger if necessary.
Col Legno, a technique needed for modern pieces that prioritize sensuality over classical pieces, often breaks the expensive bow hair due to rough playing, so Haewon also carried cheaper ones. Violinists typically carried one or two cheaper bows as spares.
"There's a lot in here. It's quite different from what I'm used to seeing."

Of course, a hobbyist violin would naturally differ.
She grabbed the neck of the violin and lifted it. Ah, Haewon froze, hand extended. Whether it was because she was Hyun Woojin's mother, or he was just too flustered to speak, he couldn't say not to touch it and just kept swallowing his saliva.