Into The Thrill

The party ended at 1 a.m. The piano was exhausted, and the string quartet was no better. They had practiced for more than five hours. In any case, Haewon had managed to catch up on the practice he'd missed, and he was paid for it.

He stuffed the cash from the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. The banquet hall, now empty of guests, felt eerily quiet—perhaps because the music had stopped, or maybe because the heat was gone, but there was a distinct chill in the air.
Haewon stood near the hotel entrance, waiting for his senior, who had gone to retrieve the car. A scarf, given to him by an unknown man, was wrapped around his neck. It was late at night, and the air had become even colder. Winter was settling in.
One by one, the staff members who had been visible earlier disappeared, and there was no one around the entrance. Haewon gazed at the entrance road, his head tilted forward as he waited for his senior's car, which would come from the parking lot at the back of the hotel. He wished his senior would hurry. He pulled the scarf up to cover his nose against the biting cold.

A sleek gray car, resembling the ashen gray of the city, stopped in front of Haewon. It wasn’t his senior’s car. Haewon stood still, staring at the car, when the window rolled down.
"Do you want a ride? I’m heading to Seoul."
"……."

Unexpectedly, the person in the driver's seat was Prosecutor Hyeon Woojin. The man who, despite his fiancée's suicide, still acted as if he were Kim Jeonggeun's son-in-law, even though he seemed like the type to sever connections with anything reminding him of his dead fiancée.
Born into a family of doctors, he had rejected the family business to pursue another career. The man whom Taeshin had unrequitedly loved. The man Taeshin had called ten times before his death.
It was a sudden offer. He wondered if his senior had heard the gossip about Woojin being criticized after his fiancée's suicide. Though he didn’t know him, Haewon knew more about Woojin than he had realized.

He had been with a woman at the hotel. Taeshin had loved him. And they slept together. Despite being with a woman, he had slept with Taeshin. Whether it was just a one-night thing, or if he had felt sorry for Taeshin and slept with him because Taeshin confessed his feelings, Haewon wasn’t sure about the details, but he had a rough idea. He also knew that Taeshin, feeling hopeless after the accident, had committed suicide. Haewon had unknowingly learned significant parts of someone else’s life story.
Haewon turned his gaze away from him and looked toward the parking lot, replying.
“I’m waiting for another car.”

“Who? The other violinist? It looks like his car can’t leave right now. Someone parked like a fool.”
“…….”
Haewon turned away from Woojin to look for his senior. The number of cars coming from the back of the hotel had significantly decreased. There were no cars, not even any people, and the cold worsened as the night deepened.

“Get in. I’m going to Seoul. I’ll give you a ride. Otherwise, you can wait inside if it’s too cold. It might take a while.”
“I’m fine.”
Haewon politely refused his offer, just as his phone rang. It was his senior. Woojin’s words turned out to be true. The staff who had been in charge of the parking had apparently lost the key to his senior’s car, so it couldn’t be moved. The call was to inform Haewon that he would need to wait a bit longer. Woojin raised an eyebrow when Haewon hung up the phone.

Haewon sighed lightly and opened the door to the gray car. He took his violin case and got into the passenger seat.
“Put it in the back seat. It’ll be uncomfortable for you.”
When Haewon placed the case between his legs, Woojin pointed to the back seat. As Haewon twisted his upper body to move the case, Woojin took it from him and placed it in the back seat. The space between them shrank in that instant. The scent of his body suddenly filled the air. It was fresh and soft, like a subtle fragrance.
“Aren’t you going to call?” he asked.

Haewon turned to him, confused.
“Don’t you want to let them know you’re leaving?”
“Ah.”

Haewon dialed his senior’s number. He told him that he had gotten a ride to Seoul and that he was leaving first. His senior sounded disappointed and said they’d meet again sometime. Haewon didn’t understand what he meant by “disappointed,” but he agreed and ended the call.
As the hotel faded behind them, the car sped down the darkened road.
After driving through a quiet forest path, Woojin asked where Haewon’s home was. His voice, which had been quiet for more than ten minutes after the violin case incident, was deep and serious. Haewon told him the subway station near the unknown man’s apartment.

“I asked earlier if I had seen you somewhere.”
“…….”
“I remember now.”

It seemed like he had remembered while his senior had been talking about him. In that moment, as Woojin glanced back at him while speaking, Haewon’s heart skipped a beat. He realized he, too, had involuntarily looked at him for longer than he intended.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Where did you see me?”

Haewon asked with a face that didn’t recognize him at all. He had seen Woojin both at the hotel and at the funeral. At the hotel, he had been with a woman, and at the funeral, he had come to mourn the death of the man Taeshin had unrequitedly loved, who had ultimately chosen to end his life.
“You saw me at the police station. Don’t you remember?”
“Ah.”

“Do you remember now?”
Haewon nodded.
“You were holding your violin back then, too?”

“I carry it everywhere.”
“You were friends with Taeshin, right? I’m investigating that case right now. Moon Haewon.”
“…….”

He even knew his name. Haewon said nothing, and Woojin continued.
“I heard Taeshin mentioned you. He said he had a friend who did music.”
“Did he?”

“He said if he could be reborn, he’d want to be you.”
“…….”
Without realizing, Haewon turned his face away. Woojin’s eyes lingered on him for a dangerously long time as he drove with one hand on the wheel.

This was the first Haewon had heard of such a thing. He didn’t know that Taeshin had felt that way.
What was it about him that made Taeshin think that? He had no plans or concrete dreams. He simply lived each day, letting the next one come. Haewon never reflected much on anything. He didn’t work hard, and he hated working. Despite being an adult, he had done little to build a future for himself.
He had threatened his father to swipe a credit card, which had caused a rift with his stepmother. He had a father who prioritized his concubine’s words over his children’s, and he had lost both his card and his home. This was what Taeshin must have meant when he said he’d want to be someone else if he were reborn.

To commit suicide meant he had overthought everything. Thoughts, reflections, they consumed a person, sinking them into a swamp. Taeshin had overthought everything.
“I don’t know why he said that.”
“Well, everyone envies what they don’t have.”

The conversation ended there. They drove on in silence. Haewon, staring straight ahead, could feel Woojin’s gaze briefly flicker over him.
“You must have been close friends with Taeshin.”
“We just knew each other. We weren’t close.”

“Taeshin called his mother that day. They spoke for about five minutes. Then he called me. His sister was going through a slump, and Taeshin had been struggling because of it. When I didn’t answer, he called you, Haewon. You didn’t answer either. He called repeatedly for over an hour. He was barefoot. The coroner said the frostbite on his feet had happened before he died. He stood on the snow-covered rooftop for hours, barefoot.”
Haewon didn’t want to imagine Taeshin’s death. He didn’t want to know what state he was in or what thoughts he had. Woojin continued in a lower voice, speaking of things Haewon didn’t want to hear.
He probably couldn’t accept his son’s death. Taeshin’s father had asked the police to investigate. It seemed he thought his son had mixed with bad company. The police had handed the case over to me. According to statements from people close to him, Taeshin had kept a diary. He hadn’t come out of the house or studio. There was no reason for him to commit suicide. The only way to understand why he made that choice was through his personal records, but those were missing.”

He turned the steering wheel, and the car smoothly made a right turn. The tendons on the back of his hand stood out as he gripped the wheel. Whether he had slept with Taeshin once because he felt sorry for him, or twice, Haewon wasn’t sure, but the fact that Woojin had been coming and going at the hotel with a woman while sleeping with Taeshin also contributed to Taeshin’s death.
From his point of view, it might have been like petting a poor stray cat he came across on the road. Taeshin might have gained some strength to live because of Woojin, but at the same time, he might have lost some of that strength because of Woojin.
That being said, Taeshin wasn’t the type to let a one-sided crush drive him to choose death. From the moment he liked Woojin, he had half-given up. Haewon had told him several times to give up, because he didn’t want to hear his complaints. Woojin wasn’t the kind of absolute figure in Taeshin’s life that would make him want to give up on living.

While Haewon remained silent, listening, Woojin asked him.
“Have you ever seen it?”
“Pardon?”

Haewon had been lost in thought. When he asked again what he meant, Woojin repeated the question.
“Have you ever seen Taeshin’s diary or any of his personal records?”
“No, I haven’t.”

“As I mentioned earlier, I’m investigating this case.”
The prosecutor, who was investigating the suicide of the man who had once had an unrequited love for him.
He knew him well enough to do the investigation. Then, Haewon suddenly remembered what his senior had mentioned earlier about Woojin’s family.

He said he came from a family of doctors. Both his paternal and maternal sides, including his parents, were doctors. His older brother and younger brother were both doctors. His younger brother worked in cardiology or thoracic surgery—something like that. Woojin’s choice to become a lawyer from a family of doctors was considered an odd one, and his ambition was said to have a distinctly arrogant smell to it. His senior had also said that Woojin became close to Taeshin because of his younger sister’s entrance exam for art school. He had testified that Woojin frequently called Taeshin to talk about his younger sister’s tutoring. Haewon remembered his senior’s testimony.
“You said Taeshin tutored your younger sister?”
“Yes, they used to talk often because of that.”

“Is your sister the only one who’s preparing for the art school entrance exam?”
“Yes.”
Woojin suddenly looked at Haewon, as though the question was odd. Haewon glanced at him before returning his gaze forward.

Someone was lying, but one of them definitely was. His senior had no reason to lie, so Haewon figured it was Woojin who was lying.
Taeshin had liked him. He slept with him. A man who had a crush on another man ended up committing suicide. For Woojin, as the person involved, it must have been quite a burden. If Haewon had been in his shoes, he would have lied as well. It was the perfect situation to be suspected.
The car stopped at an intersection. They were near Seoul now. The area was full of people, even though it was nearly 2 a.m. The streets were bustling with cars and people, in stark contrast to the quiet forest road by the hotel they had passed earlier. Everything seemed exaggerated, overflowing with movement, as if it was a lie.

“Even if you weren’t very close, aren’t you curious?”
He asked, speaking about Taeshin’s death. Haewon’s indifferent reaction, not asking anything in return, seemed to surprise him.
“It wasn’t a murder, right?”

“It wasn’t a murder.”
“Then what is there to be curious about?”
“Well, I’m curious.”

“…….”
The person who might know best why Taeshin chose to commit suicide spoke up. When the light turned green, Woojin moved his foot from the brake to the accelerator. The car smoothly moved forward.
“Personally, I’m curious why Taeshin made such an extreme choice. That day, I couldn’t answer the phone... I feel guilty about it. You didn’t answer the phone that day either. I thought you’d feel guilty too.”

Haewon felt the same way. He regretted not answering the phone that day. No, rather than regret, it was more that he hated the fact that Taeshin called him before making that choice but he never answered. If he was going to die, he should have done it quietly. Haewon was angry at Taeshin for giving him guilt by calling before his death.
Haewon wasn’t responsible for his death. Yet, he felt as though the responsibility had been placed on him. The first emotion Taeshin had given him as a friend was an ugly feeling of debt.
Woojin, beyond the investigation, also wanted to know. He must have wanted evidence that he wasn’t the reason for Taeshin’s extreme choice—other reasons [N O V E L I G H T] why Taeshin had felt there was no way to go on living. Only by knowing those would he be able to rid himself of this unpleasant feeling. Both Woojin and Haewon were caught in the trap of Taeshin.

“Taeshin’s father suspects that someone might have used his artworks for money laundering. Some of the pieces from his exhibition were sold for ridiculous prices.”
“Did the police ask you about that? Asking if Taeshin met with any famous people?”
Haewon remembered that the police had asked him the same question, and they had asked Woojin the same thing too.

“A third-generation chaebol bought two of Taeshin’s pieces. It’s still unclear whether it was for money laundering or for collecting. He claims it was an investment, and he still has them.”
“I don’t know the details. I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’ve made you uncomfortable. Forget what you just heard.”

The car stopped near a subway station by an apartment complex. Haewon unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to grab the violin case from the back seat. Woojin handed it to him. Their hands brushed. Despite his meticulous appearance, Woojin seemed to have a delicate side when it came to taking care of others.
Was his kindness towards Taeshin’s death because of this tenderness?
Haewon wanted to ask if he had slept with Taeshin, who had loved him despite the woman he had been with. Sympathy and mockery were always a paper-thin difference.

“Thank you for the ride.”
Haewon thanked him and was about to get out of the car when Woojin took out his business card from his jacket pocket and handed it to Haewon.
“If we get the chance, let’s meet again.”

“…….”
Haewon didn’t think that would happen, but out of courtesy, he took the card. As his senior had said, Woojin worked in the special prosecution division at the central district prosecutor’s office.
Haewon got out of the car and closed the door. The dark car, like the dark clouds in the sky, drove away without hesitation. Haewon had no place nearby to throw away the business card. He shoved it into the pocket of the violin case.

Haewon walked slowly toward the house of the unknown man.
Would knowing why Taeshin died make this unpleasant feeling go away? Like Woojin wanted to know?
Woojin’s desire to find out the reasons behind Taeshin’s suicide came from his personal and selfish wish to free himself from his guilt.

When Woojin mentioned the diary in the car, Haewon remembered the notebook and two photos that had been delivered to him by Taeshin.
Just like he had ignored Taeshin’s calls, Haewon had thrown away the notebook and the photos. They were placed in a box that he had set aside for the move. It had been a pointless act. Understanding the context of Taeshin’s death wouldn’t bring him back to life, and it wasn’t Haewon who had pushed him to die. It was Taeshin’s own choice, and it had nothing to do with Haewon.