Into The Thrill

He couldn't eat. There was no reason not to eat, but he simply didn't have an appetite, and every time he tried to eat something, he felt drained. It wasn't that he was sick, but he couldn't understand why he felt so down. It was as if he had been dragged into a threshing machine and spat out—both mentally and physically exhausted.

He stared at his silent phone endlessly, and then at the door that wouldn’t open. He took out his bow to practice, only to coat it in rosin. When he tried to play something on the violin, his fingers couldn’t find the strength.
He couldn’t remember the fingering or the bowing techniques. The sheet music he forced himself to lay out was unreadable. In the end, he skipped practicing. He needed to go to the symphony, but his willpower, which had been completely drained, couldn’t fight against the lethargy that weighed down his body.
Haewon spent the entire day sprawled out, as though someone had given him permission to do so. He didn’t want to do anything. Even though he wasn’t doing anything at all, he felt an overwhelming, intense desire to continue doing nothing, sinking deeper into this unbearable apathy.

He lay heavily on the bed, feeling like his entire body was weighed down by an oppressive fatigue. Staring out the window, he wondered.
"Did I get dumped...? Me? Moon Haewon? Really?"
He had never been dumped before. He had always been the one to end things, but this was the first time he had been rejected.

The overwhelming apathy, the unwillingness to do anything, and the bottomless feeling of sinking deeper—he realized, only now, that this emptiness was the aftermath of a breakup.
This was being dumped, this was the feeling of being heartbroken.
You can break up with someone, say goodbye. But if it’s not mutual, if one person is rejected unilaterally, then you end up feeling like this, Haewon realized, especially as he was approaching the age where everything felt so cold in the dead of winter.

What was hardest of all was that he clearly remembered how Hyun Woojin’s passionate flame, which had once burned for him, had instantly been extinguished. The image of his cold, hardened face suddenly made Haewon’s chest feel cold and hollow.
He curled deeper into his bed, but the chill wouldn’t go away. The warmth of his hands, which had once felt so comforting, now filled Haewon with a shiver of cold. The warmth they gave seemed to intensify the chilling emptiness he now felt.
The morning was breaking outside the window. He wanted to sleep, but his head ached and his eyes felt cold. His eyes, gritty like sand, rubbed at them.

"Did I do something wrong? Was it all my fault?"
Hyun Woojin, you didn’t do anything right either.
In the first place, it was him who lied to make Haewon go to that house. He had given the excuse, and Haewon had no choice but to misunderstand. Haewon had only seen him as filthy and had never given him a chance to explain or trusted him. He had wounded him with his rash words.

Faced with the unbearable pieces of misunderstanding, Haewon had chosen to run away. Aside from losing his mother, Haewon’s life had never really been marked by any significant turning points. He had been a coward, never admitting that Hyun Woojin had cast a storm into his life.
He wasn’t part of Haewon’s world. Haewon couldn’t even hear any news about Hyun Woojin through people around him, as their lives were entirely separate.
The moment he gave him up, they were completely disconnected, with a global distance between them. It wasn’t the shock of the breakup that tormented Haewon, but the fact that he could no longer see him. That was what truly drove him mad.

Having been dumped, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had spent nearly a year with him. A year of liking him every single day.
"What do I do...?"
He murmured dryly. Haewon could hear Hyun Woojin’s voice in his ear, saying thank you for waking him up. He wanted to talk to Taeshin. He wanted to ask him what to do in situations like this.
Haewon didn’t go to his lessons. He had never missed a lesson before, so the professor called him.

"…Hello?"
"Haewon, what's going on? Why did you skip all your practice?"
"Sorry. I forgot to contact you. I think I might have caught a cold. I feel really sick and can’t move."

He weakly explained why he missed the lesson. The professor, who didn’t know the real reason, was concerned about Haewon’s absence, assuming it was due to illness.
There was, of course, no call from Hyun Woojin. He had dumped him. He had ended their relationship. There was no reason for him to call or come over. Hyun Woojin wasn’t in the middle of an emotional struggle with him. Haewon had seen with his own eyes how Hyun Woojin extinguished the blue flame that had burned for him.
Haewon didn’t change the door lock code. It wasn’t because he was waiting for him to change his mind and come back. He simply knew Hyun Woojin wouldn’t come, so there was no need to change it.

His heart felt hollow. Searching online for the aftermath of a breakup, he read useless posts about how the feeling of emptiness varies from person to person—some get over it in a few days, others take months or even years—and he threw his phone in frustration.
After a few days, Haewon finally left the officetel. He kept walking, aimlessly. It wasn’t the first time he had ended something with someone, but he couldn’t shake the sense of emptiness and coldness. No matter how many layers of clothes he wore, his chest still felt empty, cold, and lonely.
If they had just broken up, it wouldn’t have been so hard. But it was because he had been dumped. Haewon still liked him.

After walking for hours, Haewon arrived at the street where he had once blurted out that he missed him. After working all night and finishing a business trip early, Hyun Woojin had held him the next morning and told him how much he had missed him.
Why had he overlooked those things back then?
Even if they were in that kind of relationship, he should have trusted him first. He should have believed that what he saw wasn’t the whole truth, that there had to be a reason. He should have calmly asked for an explanation. The betrayal and emptiness hit Haewon like a heavy blow.

Haewon had only cared about the shock and the wounds he himself received. He had no tolerance for the wounds others inflicted on him. No one had ever hurt him, and even if they had, Haewon didn’t accept it. That was why, terrified of being hurt, Haewon had rejected him in a panic. And Hyun Woojin hadn’t understood that.
He entered a restaurant that served samgyeopsal and soju. It was late, and there were few people seated at the tables.
"Are you alone?"

Haewon nodded, and the waitress led him to a corner table. The spot was dark, barely lit, and before the waitress could tell him that they didn’t serve one-person portions, Haewon had already ordered a serving of samgyeopsal and a bottle of soju.
He poured the clear soju into his glass and took a sip, grilling the meat. The sizzling sound filled the air as he stared blankly at the cooking meat before chewing on a piece that was barely cooked.
"Ah, it's you...! Hello?"

Someone greeted him, and Haewon looked up. His depressed expression didn’t change even as the other person smiled at him. After a moment of thought, he remembered the ponytail from before, who had asked for his autograph at this very restaurant.
It had been a long time, but seeing her again didn’t bring him any joy. Haewon sighed quietly to himself. She brought a friend to the table where Haewon was sitting.
"I'm not some celebrity. I just said that because I was bored that day. Don’t sit here if you have nothing to say."

Haewon coldly responded, pouring more soju into his glass. The glass filled with the transparent liquid. He hastily drank it, the alcohol spilling over his lips, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
One chopstick fell to the floor with a sharp sound. The ponytail girl picked it up, pushed it aside, and took a new pair from the utensil holder, handing them to him. Haewon didn’t take them but stared at her intently.
"That's why. I searched for all the actors in that drama, but they never showed up. After that, I even searched for all the extras who appeared on that broadcasting station's dramas."

Haewon snatched the chopsticks from her hand. He dipped the meat into the ssamjang and brought it to his mouth. He chewed the meat, but couldn’t taste anything.
The situation was getting more serious. Absurdly, it felt like tears were about to come. It used to taste so good, but now he couldn’t taste anything, and suddenly it was so pitiful and sad that he wanted to cry.
"So, you’re not a celebrity?"

"I told you I’m not. Is there any celebrity who looks like me? Why are you saying such ridiculous things?"
He asked irritably. Having had a few drinks, she cheerfully answered.
"It’s just... You don’t look like an average person."

"I know, I know I’m special."
Haewon said this in a bad mood, but the ponytail girl and her friend burst into laughter, as if they’d heard a joke.
Lee Jin-young had fallen for Haewon at first sight. Hyun Woojin, who had seen Haewon a few times, couldn’t recall him immediately. It took him some time to remember Haewon. Although Haewon said, "I know I’m special," he had begun to wonder if maybe he wasn’t that great after all.

When Haewon stiffened his expression in depression, the ponytail girl and her friend quickly suppressed their smiles, as though their laughter had been some kind of permission to sit at Haewon’s table. They took chopsticks and spoons without hesitation.
"Drinking alone makes you sad, huh? The doenjang here is really good, have you tried it?"
"Stop talking nonsense. I’m not interested in you. No, I won’t be."

"Did something happen to make you mad?"
"What does it have to do with you, someone I’ve met for the second time?"
"You’re so cute. How old are you?"

"......"
He had called Haewon cute too. He had said it out loud, and sometimes, while looking at him with affection, he’d even patted his head. There was nothing worse than someone patting your head, but when he did it, Haewon stayed still. Sometimes, Haewon even tilted his head toward Hyun Woojin, hoping he would pet him more. And at those times, Hyun Woojin would smile gently and pat Haewon’s head longer.
He had warm hands. People with warm hands are said to have warm hearts, that they are kind, but why had Haewon ignored that scientific truth?

Haewon missed Hyun Woojin. It was unbearable.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he had been dumped because he had made mistakes, and suddenly, he wanted to curse at him.
"Son of a bitch..."

"If I ate more than you, then I ate more, not less."
"Are you over thirty-two? I’m thirty-two."
"......"

He glanced at her. The ponytail girl had her curly hair °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° tied in a ponytail, and her skin was clear and clean. She looked younger than thirty-two. These days, it was hard to guess someone’s age just by looking at their face. When Haewon didn’t answer, she grinned mischievously. It was a mischievous and playful smile.
"You’re younger than me?"
"Do you think I’d share my personal information with someone I’ve met for the second time?"

"You’re younger than me. Right?"
"So what if I am? What if I’m not?"
"Your older sister wants to buy you a drink."

Having already shared half a bottle of soju, they were both slightly drunk with flushed cheeks. Haewon poured more soju into his empty glass and drank it alone. Every time he drank, the soju spilled messily. He wiped his wet chin with his hand.
"Did something bad happen?"
"Go away, old lady."

"I’ll listen. Tell me."
"Damn it."
"Hey, why are you swearing and throwing a tantrum? If you don’t want to talk, don’t. I was just trying to be nice because you’re drinking alone, and now you’re acting like this. What a bastard."

The ponytail girl swore with an angry face, and her friend glared at Haewon with sharp eyes. Haewon felt like getting up and leaving, but he didn’t want to go that far. After cursing at her, he felt a bit relieved.
"Son of a bitch, Hyun Woojin, you’re a son of a bitch. It’s my fault, but it’s you who made me like this, so you’re the son of a bitch. What a bastard."
Suddenly, he wanted to say this to Hyun Woojin. He had already been dumped, and he was in the process of accepting it. He never intended to see him again, but he felt that he absolutely had to say this.

Haewon poured the soju into his glass and drank it all at once. Ugh, he wiped his chin and rubbed his thighs with the soju on his hand. The alcohol made his face flush.
"...Then try calling this number."
Haewon rummaged through the pocket of his coat, took out his phone, found Hyun Woojin’s number, and handed it to the ponytail girl.

"Who is it?"
"Some son of a bitch. I’m in a bad mood because of this bastard."
"Isn’t it the opposite? Why would someone who’s been scammed call the scammer secretly?"

"I’m just checking if the number still works. That bastard’s going to get caught for fraud. So try calling again. This time, record the voice and give it to me. I need evidence."
Haewon urged her. Despite the unbelievable lie, the ponytail girl, encouraged by the alcohol, took out her phone, memorized Hyun Woojin’s number, and pressed the call button. As the phone connected, the signal tone was loud. Haewon, the ponytail girl, and her friend all huddled around the phone and listened intently.
"Hello."

"......"
The ponytail girl looked at Haewon. Haewon put his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet and focused intently on Hyun Woojin’s voice.
"Hello. Please speak."

"......"
He was silent. It seemed like he was checking the unknown number, and when he didn’t answer, the call was disconnected. Hearing Hyun Woojin’s voice made Haewon’s heart feel hollow. The moment he heard it, Haewon realized how much he had missed it, as if his heart was being squeezed.
"Hello. Hello. Please speak."

The deep melody of the clarinet, the soft bass, and the voice coming from the machine seemed to have a tragic undertone because it was distorted. The voice couldn’t be caught or locked away. Haewon didn’t realize how much impact an intangible voice could have.
"Try again."
"His voice is scary. Who is this? What’s going on?"

The friend of the ponytail girl, who seemed uneasy at the odd phone call, asked.
"He’s the bastard who scammed me."
"Isn’t it the other way around? Why would the person who got scammed secretly call the scammer?"

"I’m just checking if the number still works. That bastard’s going to get caught. So call again. This time, record the voice and give it to me. I need proof."
Haewon urged her again. Even though she wasn’t keen on the idea, the ponytail girl, fueled by the alcohol, called Hyun Woojin’s number once more. She pressed the speakerphone and started recording. The phone rang several times before Hyun Woojin answered.