Into The Thrill

The shrill ring of the phone jolted Haewon's swollen consciousness, feeling like his head would split open. Grimacing, he opened his eyes and, unaware he was in the bed of his officetel, grabbed his phone to answer the call.

"…Yes."
—This is Police Sergeant Kim Seok-ho from the Major Crimes Unit. Is this Moon Haewon's phone?
"Yes."

Barely processing what was said, but recognizing his name, Haewon responded affirmatively. He lay face down, slowly gathering his senses.
—Why aren’t you answering your phone? Do you know how many times I've called?
"Yes."

—Pull yourself together. Are you still out of it?
"…Yes."
—Have you urinated?

"Yes."
—No, I mean, have you peed? Urine!
"…What?"

—You need to collect your first urine. Don’t forget to do that. Got it?
"What are you talking about… who is this?"
—I'm Sergeant Kim Seok-ho from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency. It seems like you were drugged with GHB yesterday. It’s important to collect your urine for evidence to press charges, so make sure to save your first urine in a clean container. Not a paper cup, something with a lid will do. Okay? Moon Haewon, are you listening?

"I don't understand what you're saying."
—Just remember this one thing. Don’t just pee; save it. Without it, it's hard to prosecute the person, so keep that in mind.
"My head hurts…"

—Alright, I’ll send a police officer over, just do as you're told. Do you understand? Are you listening? Moon Haewon, hey, Moon Haewon! Hey!
Haewon, holding the phone, closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
He was awoken by the buzzing of the intercom. Without the presence of mind to ask who it was, he opened the door, telling whoever it was to quickly finish their business and leave, then collapsed back onto the bed.
The person who entered his officetel was a uniformed police officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency. Led by the officer, Haewon managed to get up and went into the bathroom where he urinated into the provided container.

After showering and drinking a strong coffee to sober up, Haewon noticed the officer still standing with the container of his urine.
He hurried Haewon to change clothes, saying they needed to go. Dressed, Haewon got into a police car and was taken to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency. It was only then he asked,
"Where are we going? What did I do wrong?"

"We're going to the police station. It’s not you who did something wrong; you are the victim here."
"Me? A victim?"
The officer’s eyes met his through the rearview mirror, a look of pity in them.

"You’ll get more details when we arrive."
Haewon felt utterly disoriented. His lips hurt as if he’d been kissing for hours like that time with Hyun Woojin, a residual painful tingling making it hurt to speak.
At the Major Crimes Unit, the same rough-looking man he'd seen at a barbecue restaurant the previous day was slouching and writing something. The officer who brought Haewon handed over the container of urine. Sergeant Kim Seok-ho, taking the container, seemed determined to embarrass him as he asked the officer,

"First?"
"It’s the first one he gave after I arrived."
"Good work. Have a seat. Funny how things happen, huh? Isn’t this the guy who made the prank call to Prosecutor Hyun Woojin yesterday?"

"…"
"It’s okay, sit down. That’s not why you’re here."
Haewon sat in the chair in front of his desk.

He’d never had his fortune told, but if he had, it would surely warn him of legal troubles this year. He couldn't even remember how many times he had been to the police station.
Sitting there in a daze, Sergeant Kim placed a fruit drink in front of him. As Haewon reached for it, thirsty, Kim clicked his tongue.
"Don’t just accept drinks with the lid already opened."

"…"
The fruit drink was indeed already opened. Haewon looked back and forth between the drink and the sergeant.
"That’s how you end up unconscious."

"What happened yesterday?"
"It’s strange, really. There happened to be a tip-off about prostitution at that motel yesterday. Duty officer told me to check it out, so I went. And there, among the rooms, I found a familiar face sprawled on a bed. And it was you, the one who called the prosecutor."
"…Was I drugged?"

"Yeah, GHB. Rookie mistake, he dosed you too heavily, and you lost consciousness. If it wasn’t for me yesterday, you could’ve been in serious trouble."
"Did anything happen to me… I mean."
"You were fully clothed. Don't worry."

"…Yes."
Haewon couldn’t remember how he got home last night. Fortunately, he seemed to have made it home, changed into pajamas, and slept. With his mind a whirlwind, he hadn’t even realized he was in his nightwear this morning.
"Nothing’s tampered with, so drink up. And from now on, be careful about accepting anything from strangers."

Haewon took a deep gulp of the drink. His mouth was dry, his head spinning. He barely kept his composure as he filled out the police report, and when asked if he wanted to press charges against the man from last night, he shook his head. Pressing charges would mean prosecution, and prosecution might involve seeing the prosecutor, and with his rotten luck, it could end up with Hyun Woojin.
If Hyun Woojin found out, he would be disappointed. After telling him he wanted to see him, being in a motel with a stranger and nearly becoming a victim wasn’t something Haewon wanted exposed. He dreaded the thought of his ordeal becoming known to Hyun Woojin, even if the case didn’t get assigned to him. He didn’t want to be discovered drugged, undressed, and a mess by others, especially not by him.
Despite Sergeant Kim’s urging to press charges for a definitive punishment, Haewon politely declined and left the police station after completing the paperwork.

∞ ∞ ∞
It wasn’t just a breakup with Hyun Woojin; it felt like he’d been overturned. As if tumbling down, then rolling on the ground, being trampled over… Just from a breakup, everything turned into a complete mess.
Beyond the disruption to ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ his life and his inability to practice, what he couldn’t stand was the abject desire to call him, to go and beg on his knees to get back together, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He realized as he contemplated visiting Hyun Woojin’s officetel that clinging and groveling only dragged a person down to rock bottom.

Haewon purposefully visited his family home to witness a living testament to how empty and hollow love could be. His mother hadn't wanted his father to see her as she became old and sick, shriveling up like plastic. Even unto death, her stubbornness prevailed, and she died alone and lonely because of her love for his father and his love for another woman.
Haewon knew better than anyone how filthy and vile love could be.
"What are you staring at so intently?"

His stepmother, pausing her flower arranging to scrutinize him, sighed.
"You don’t love your father, do you?"
"I can't believe it, I must have lived too long to have heard such nonsense."

This was the love professed by my stepmother at this very moment, a love that belittled even my mother’s life, proclaiming it eternal and sublime. Love is this worthless. It shines only for a moment. It’s only now that I want to see him. It’s only now that I want to hear his voice.
I wanted to waste my energy fighting with my stepmother instead. Haewon was looking for an excuse. He was curious about how Gaoling, whom his father met in San Francisco, was doing.
“Was she twenty-one or twenty-two?”

“What?”
“Gaoling.”
“Gaoling?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Dad said he knows her. He's set up house in San Francisco. Her name is Gaoling, and she’s either twenty-one or twenty-two, something like that. She’s a waitress at a Chinese restaurant, tall and slim like a ballerina, makes Tang Wei look plain by comparison.”
It wasn’t Tang Wei, it was some other Chinese actress, but Haewon only knew Tang Wei, so he provoked his stepmother by saying his father’s affair was with someone as beautiful as Tang Wei.
“Set up house with a twenty-year-old Chinese girl?!”

“Not twenty, twenty-one or two. Oh... you didn’t know.”
As Haewon muttered dispassionately, his stepmother’s face quickly reddened, and she jumped up. She stormed into the bedroom where my father was napping.
The sounds of a violent argument spilled from beyond the bedroom door. It seems my father had recently gifted her a qipao. Because of that woman, did you buy her this qipao wanting to see her in it, slap, slap, I couldn’t tell where he was hitting, but the sound of slapping echoed loudly.

The housemaid, while clearing the living room table cluttered with flower arrangements, muttered under her breath.
"Oh, it had been quiet for a while, and now they start again."
“That’s how ugly love is.”

“Huh? What did you say, Haewon?”
“It’s nothing.”
Haewon sprawled on the sofa, spearing a piece of melon with a fork and popping it into his mouth. Hyun Woojin's face filled his vision.

A few days ago, he had deleted Hyun Woojin's picture from his phone in a moment of resolve. The voice messages had been erased the day before, but suddenly he desperately wanted to see him again.
Not knowing how to recover the deleted picture, he took his phone to a professional to have the photo and voice recovered for a fee. After repeating this process of deleting and recovering about three times, the company tired of taking his money told him how to recover the files for free, and Haewon stopped deleting them altogether.
Leaving his parents' quarrel behind, Haewon left his family home. Even having seen firsthand how vain love was, he still yearned to see Hyun Woojin.

He searched for a flight and booked a plane to Bangkok. He also booked a hotel. A few days later, he packed some summer clothes and his violin into a suitcase and left his apartment. Though there was still plenty of time, he headed straight to the airport.
If he didn’t refresh his mood in a country with a different season, the current situation, feeling like he might die because of Hyun Woojin, seemed unresolvable.
Haewon arrived at the airport, received his boarding pass, and headed to the gate. He had no luggage to check in; just a small suitcase and his violin. After passing through the airport security checkpoint, he sat in the airline lounge waiting to board.

At night, as darkness fell on the runway, planes bound for various countries stood lined up. Watching the planes take off and land, Haewon felt a rare excitement, hoping that going to a place where he couldn't hear his native language might stop his thoughts of Hyun Woojin.
He liked Thai food and usually went to Bangkok twice a year, but he hadn’t managed to this year. Instead of city tours or relaxing by Thailand's beautiful beaches, he typically spent his days at a five-star hotel, eating, sleeping, swimming, working out, and inevitably playing his violin, barely warming up.
Maybe this time, he should go to the beach. To bask under the hot sun, listen to the waves, enjoy the sand baths. Maybe ride a jet ski, or even a yacht.

Although it was only a brief distraction, while Haewon was searching his phone for a good hotel to book a pool villa, he was interrupted.
“Excuse me.”
Haewon looked up to see the airline stewardess and an airport staff member standing there. The stewardess, with a broad smile, asked,

“Are you Moon Haewon, traveling to Bangkok on KE 653 at 18:20?”
“Yes, what about it?”
“You’ll need to come with us for a moment regarding your instrument.”

This time the airport staff spoke, eyeing the violin left beside him.
“Why is that?”
Haewon asked without moving from his browsing position.

“Did you not declare the instrument?”
“I have a seat for it. There shouldn’t be any issue with bringing it on board.”
Haewon sighed and put down his phone. He opened his bag to show his passport and boarding pass. Each airline has its own rules, and there are ignorant people who insist on checking it as baggage because the instrument is so expensive. Haewon usually buys an extra seat to bring his violin on board.

“We’ve received a call from Daemyung Instrument Bank. You have an instrument that’s not permitted for international removal…”
The staff cautiously informed him.
“What are you talking about? This isn’t a rental; it’s my personal property. It’s insured under my name, you can check.”

Until just recently, he had been in China without any issues, although that was a different situation, flying on a charter plane with over a hundred orchestral instruments packed in specially made boxes. The procedures for leaving the country were supposed to be the same.
“We have staff from Daemyung Instrument Bank on their way here, so you might need to wait for exit clearance.”
Really, all sorts of things were happening.

An indescribable irritation surged within him. It was really strange. Ever since he broke up with Hyun Woojin, everything had been going wrong. It wasn’t just his perception; things were indeed falling apart. Nothing was going right.
“Please wait in our office.”
“My ticket is first class. This is the last flight to Bangkok today, and I have a hotel booked. If I miss this flight, I’ll be charging the costs by the minute, and you’ll need to arrange the same flight and hotel for me.”

“We’ll handle it as quickly as possible.”
“It’s two seats. For this violin too.”
Haewon spoke coldly and gathered his violin and bag to stand up.

The Daemyung Cultural Foundation provides an art fund to purchase high-quality instruments and lend them to promising artists. Personal purchases are too expensive and maintenance costs are high, so the foundation selects musicians through rigorous auditions or lends instruments to competition winners, managing everything for them.
Artists deliver beautiful music with the loaned masterpieces, and if they win international competitions, the Daemyung Cultural Foundation gets sponsor recognition. In my case, I bought my violin myself, so it is my private property and has nothing to do with the Daemyung Group.
Haewon sat in the airport security office, waiting for the misunderstanding to clear up. The arrival of the instrument bank staff was delayed by traffic, and it took time to inspect, so Haewon ended up missing his plane.

“I'm sorry. It seems there was a misunderstanding on our part. There is another plane tomorrow at the same time, but first class is fully booked. Could we prepare a business class seat for you instead?”
“……”
“I'm sorry.”

The instrument bank staff, who had been rummaging through, turning over, and checking his violin case, were apologetically bowing their heads to the airport security officer who was earnestly apologizing to Haewon.
Haewon, hands in his pockets, listened without responding and then took out his phone.