Into The Thrill

"Did you practice the violin yesterday?"
"If I don't practice, my hands get stiff."
"I got a call from the security office. Someone complained about the noise through the intercom."

"......"
In this crappy apartment, he couldn't even play his music freely. In this place, he couldn't do any of the things he used to enjoy. Haewon didn’t respond and started to change his clothes.
"What's your name... what's your name?"

A hand wrapped around his waist touched Haewon's flat stomach. It reached no further, playfully just touching his stomach. The hand, desiring to delve beneath the clothes and touch his bare chest, hurriedly tightened around Haewon's waist.
Haewon let the hand roam freely over him as he continued to pack, and then his phone rang. He slipped out of the man's grasp to answer it.
"Yes."

—Haewon, it's me.
It was Senior Choi.
"Yes, Senior."

As Haewon responded into the phone, the man backed off awkwardly. He didn't leave the room but lingered nearby, seemingly wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.
—Sorry, I couldn’t answer your call yesterday. What's up?
Haewon had called Senior Choi last night. Haewon knew his wife from university. It wasn't that they were close enough to talk at that hour, but it wasn't like she was a stranger either, and he might have taken the call out of politeness, but he hadn’t.

"I'll come by your practice room later. Let's meet for a bit."
—Okay. How about two o'clock? Or should we grab lunch together?
"I’ll just meet you at two."

—Got it. See you then.
After ending the call, Haewon put his phone back in his pocket. The man who had been silently observing him asked.
"Who was that?"
"A senior I know."

"Did you arrange to meet?"
The man’s face fell, probably hoping to spend the whole day with him since it was the weekend.
"I have some errands."

"What's his name?"
He asked again, cautiously. Haewon sensed he was trying not to upset him. His name wasn't that of a great man or a spy from a rival nation that it needed to be kept secret. It was nothing special.
"Moon Haewon. And you?"

"Me? I told you my name before."
"I'm just asking because you asked mine now."
"Ha ha. Right. It's weird to ask now, isn't it?"

Haewon didn’t remember when he had told him his name. He had no ability to listen attentively to others. It was the same with Taeshin. His words were just annoying noise to Haewon. It was the same with his stepmother. He ignored and despised her as she warned him, a son, about her plans to divorce. Where did such a vulgar woman get off speaking like that? Because he did not listen carefully, Haewon found himself living off a man whose name he didn’t even know.
"......"
"Huh? Why?"

He looked as though he was about to ask his name again but decided not to. It seemed unnecessary.
"Did you do something like judo?"
"Judo? Me? No. Why, do I look like I practice judo?"

Haewon nodded.
"Not judo, but I do practice Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Want to try it? It's good exercise and really relieves stress after a good sweat."
"I thought you did judo. You look… robust."

"Robust, right?"
The man tapped his firm, log-like stomach. Yet, there was a sleekness to his physique. Haewon approached him, and the man who mentioned martial arts stepped back. He flopped down onto the bed. Haewon climbed onto his knees.
"......your name, Haewon? Moon Haewon?"

"Yes."
"Pretty name."
"Do I look pretty?"

He nodded seriously, a look that Haewon always found naive and simple.
"Of all I've seen... among everyone I've seen. More than any celebrity on TV."
He looked up at Haewon as if enchanted. Stubble had grown sparsely around his chin overnight.

"I've been told I'm handsome, but it’s the first time someone’s called ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ me pretty."
"Ah, sorry. Did that upset you? Is it bad to hear that from another man?"
"No, it's nice to be called pretty. I like pretty things too."

"That's right, you are pretty. The prettiest I've seen."
He touched Haewon's waist again. Haewon had kissed him a few times. He grasped the man’s cheek in his hand. He tightened his grip, pulling himself closer to the man's core.
The slight throbbing from the man’s lower body faintly spread between his seated thighs. His thick, substantial hands slipped beneath the clothes to cautiously stroke Haewon's lower back. Haewon did not resist, so the man quickly withdrew his hand, apologizing.

"Sorry. It just happened. I shouldn’t have, right?"
"It’s too soon. I don’t move this fast... we haven’t known each other long enough."
Considering he had already left two suitcases at the home of a man whose name he didn’t even know, his words were audacious. Sitting on the lap of a man whose name he didn't even know was exceedingly cheeky.

"Sorry, sorry. I really am sorry."
He apologized repeatedly, seeming truly remorseful. Haewon pulled his face up to look at him.
"I'll try."

"Don't try anything like that. I'm not forcing you to do anything. You can stay as long as you like; I have plenty of rooms."
He seemed to think Haewon couldn't refuse because he was staying at his place. He spoke sternly, as if scolding Haewon, who was just personally curious about his name at that moment. Haewon smiled and gently stroked the man's earnest and straightforward cheek. The bristles felt prickly against his palm.
"Thank you."

He leaned his head towards the man.
∞ ∞ ∞
Senior Choi was already at the café when Haewon arrived. He was drinking coffee and looking out the window with a melancholy expression. Two college girls nearby glanced at him and whispered among themselves.

He was attractive, and he knew it. Haewon placed his violin case on an empty chair and sat down across from him. As Choi noticed someone approaching, he turned his head.
"Did you come? You're early."
Haewon always made him wait. He had never arrived on time for their appointments. This time he almost did, but a known brother had given him a ride. The same brother who had gone to the bathroom to masturbate to hide his erection after kissing Haewon.

Throughout the ride here, Haewon wondered if he would finally learn his name, but he still didn't know it. He couldn't just ask what his name was at this point. It didn’t really matter; calling him "brother" seemed to work for everything.
"Want some coffee?"
"Iced latte."

"In this cold? Drink something hot."
"Iced latte."
"Alright."

Choi went to the counter to order for Haewon, who preferred his drink cold. He brought back an iced latte and set it in front of Haewon. Haewon sipped the coffee, listening to the ice clink as it melted. Suddenly, his chest felt cold.
"But what’s going on?"
"I need to discuss something."

"What is it?"
"It’s about the violin audition I mentioned last time. Has it finished?"
"You said you didn’t want to."

"I got kicked out of my house."
"…."
He blinked dumbly. When Haewon drank his iced coffee and set it down, the sound of ice clinking together filled the room. At the sound, his senior seemed to snap out of it and asked.

"Kicked out of your house? Why?"
"It happened. I fought with my father. So, about that spot, it's still open, right?"
"This is difficult. There's already someone chosen. The conductor picked them, so it's a bit tricky to reverse it."

"...."
As disappointment spread across Haewon's face, his senior quickly added.
"Do you need money?"

"I have nowhere to go after being kicked out."
"Where are you staying now?"
"I'm staying at someone’s house."

"…Someone?"
His senior asked, curious about who this person was that had given Haewon a place to stay. Haewon didn’t respond.
It was the first time he had to ask someone for help because of money, but the request didn’t go as smoothly as he had imagined. Somehow, his mood sank, feeling complicated.

Was it because of Kim Jaemin’s actions, making it impossible for Haewon to even step foot in this industry? Or was it because he had ignored Haewon’s calls and been indifferent about the proposals, causing him to be less responsive for the album sessions? Right now, Haewon had no way of making money.
It was impossible for Haewon to bow his head and go back to his stepmother. He had decided that he would sell his violin, but he would never return to that house. His options were few now. Sitting in frustration, Haewon’s senior spoke up.
"Then, do you want to try what I mentioned before?"

"What did you mention before?"
"Why, you said no last time. There’s a party coming up at the HanKyung Hotel. You could perform there."
It was a suggestion to provide background music at a party hosted by a chaebol. Haewon had refused for the same reason last time. It wasn’t that he thought he had any great musical integrity or pride, but he didn’t like the idea of playing in a setting where the music was just background noise for people who didn’t care about it—like a decoration for a busy party.

The thought of sitting there as a symphony member, one of the best in Asia, just to entertain a few privileged guests, was distasteful.
"It’s not a place for just college majors. The chairman of HanKyung Group is a huge classical music enthusiast. I heard Henry Chang performed at his place before. This is a proper performance. It would be nice to play some background music too. The fee is four hundred for one night. It’s just for a short while, and four hundred isn’t bad."
Henry Chang was a world-renowned violinist. This so-called "great music lover" was using his company’s foundation-backed orchestra members as tools for his private parties. Haewon had rejected it for the same reason, but his senior tried to persuade him gently.

"You’d only need to play for about three or four hours."
"At this point, I’m not in a position to be picky."
Haewon wasn’t in a position to reject it now, unlike before. He answered meekly. When he had first received this proposal, he had felt a strong sense of repulsion toward the idea of playing for people who didn’t appreciate music. He had also thought it was disrespectful to the senior concertmaster of the symphony. But now, he couldn’t afford to refuse such an offer.

"Yeah, everyone else is eager to go. Four hundred a day isn’t a small amount."
Haewon spoke in resignation, and his senior muttered as if he had expected this answer.
Four hundred a night. That was an amount that couldn’t even get you a decent room in Seoul. Haewon couldn’t stay indefinitely at this unknown man’s house. He would have to leave eventually.

Haewon realized, somewhat suddenly, that poverty was more painful than he had imagined. It wasn’t just humiliating or frustrating; it was uncomfortable in every way. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t practice because of the noise around him, and he couldn’t even get angry at the man who called him beautiful. Despite having some savings, his mood didn’t improve.
"Who’s the person you’re staying with? If something like this happens, why didn’t you contact me earlier?"
"I did, but you didn’t pick up."

His senior avoided Haewon’s gaze as he stared at him and quietly drank his cold coffee.
"Who is this person? Is it okay to stay there long-term?"
"He says I should stay, but I feel uncomfortable. I can’t practice and…"

"Ah, I see."
Haewon had to practice for at least three hours a day. If he didn’t, his hands would stiffen. If his hands stiffened, he wouldn’t be able to perform the way he wanted. Haewon’s concern for his practice made his senior act serious.
"Then, do you want to use my practice room?"

"...."
He had a private practice room in a place somewhere in Seoul. It was a small room with perfect soundproofing. It would be impossible to live there, but there wouldn’t be any need to deal with the intercom from the security office. It was a place where Haewon could play the violin as much as he wanted.
Looking at the senior’s gentle offer, Haewon shook his head, saying it was fine. He had been kicked out of his home, was penniless, and was currently leeching off someone else’s hospitality. He wasn’t in the mood to be physical with anyone. He didn’t want to be close to the man. His rejection made the senior stop offering and instead drink his coffee while gazing intently at Haewon’s face.

"You don’t need a tuxedo. Black pants and a white shirt, no tie."
Haewon wore black dress pants and a white shirt. He threw on a knee-length coat and, as the unknown man looked at him, said,
"You look good. What kind of performance are you going to? Can I go with you?"

"I’m just going for a part-time job."
It was a part-time job that paid well for just one night, but it was still work.
He wasn’t ignoring the proposal his senior made for the orchestra member position. The salary wasn’t great, but if Haewon became a regular member of the orchestra, he could take out a low-interest loan from the foundation, and Haewon had planned to use that loan to rent a small room after rejoining.

No one could really predict the future. Haewon never thought he would end up staying at an unknown man’s house. He decided not to make any assumptions about the future anymore. It wasn’t worth it.
If Taeshin were alive, he might have let Haewon stay at his house. Or maybe he would have even lent Haewon a house in his name for as long as he needed. But Taeshin was dead, and thinking about it made Haewon realize he wouldn’t have asked him for help, even if he were alive.
"Are you running late? Where are you going? I’ll take you there. And I’ll wait nearby. Let’s go together after it’s done."

"You don’t need to take me. I’ll go on my own."
"I want to see you perform."
"It’s too noisy here to play."

"Haha, yeah, it wouldn’t work here."
Questions kept piling up. What should I do, what can I get you? He listed things Haewon didn’t want. Haewon no longer wanted to know the man’s name.
"I’m going."

"Haewon."
Haewon put on gloves to protect his hands. As he tried to leave with his violin case on his shoulder, the man stopped him. When Haewon turned around, the man brought a shopping bag from the table. Inside the department store bag was a scarf. The man draped the scarf around Haewon’s neck.
"It looks good on you. I knew this color would suit you."

"..."
"It matches your eye color."
Haewon hated people who made him feel emotionally burdened. He hated the emotional labor of having his feelings irritated. That was why he had hated Taeshin—he had burdened him. Even before dying, Taeshin had done this, and even after his death, he had continued to burden Haewon.

"Thank you."
"Take care and come back safely."