Into The Thrill

As he claimed to be kind, it seemed that his lingering guilt and sense of responsibility for his deceased fiancée made him continue playing the role of a son-in-law to her family. Choi said it was ambition, but with his fiancée gone, there was no ambition left for him in the HanKyung Group. He often took women to hotels, slept with pitiful men occasionally, and seemed to live aimlessly.

Because he was kind, too kind.
"If you’re too kind, you might end up in big trouble."
"Is this the right place? You were living with that guy because you had nowhere else to go, right?"

He suddenly moved closer to the car window to look at the officetel where Haewon was sitting. Haewon flinched. A smile appeared and disappeared at the corner of his lips, as if mocking Haewon.
He rested his hand on the passenger seat backrest and moved so close that his cheek nearly touched Haewon’s. He then looked up at the officetel standing in the darkness beyond the car window. Haewon felt his body heat briefly. Haewon slowly moved away, giving him a better view of the building.
"Yes, this is it."

"Let’s go up together. I need to see for myself."
"It’s fine. You’ve already brought me here. I appreciate your help today."
"I can’t send you off until I see it with my own eyes. How can I trust someone who lied about being a college student when they’re already an adult? You weren’t just let go from the police station; I vouched for you."

"……."
The fact that he had lied about being a college student, even though he was already well into adulthood, seemed to stick with Hyun Woojin. Maybe he was intentionally trying to embarrass Haewon. It was mentioned again and again.
Haewon had no choice but to get out of the car with him.

The officetel had been empty for a few weeks. It belonged to his six-year-old half-brother. His father wouldn’t let an empty property sit unused, and there was no way he would have left it for someone else to rent or sell. Moreover, it was in the heart of Seoul, where properties were in high demand and the price was steep.
Since Hyun Woojin had vouched for Haewon’s identity, he couldn’t refuse anymore. Carrying his violin on his back, Haewon rode the elevator with him.
He pressed the button for the 22nd floor. Since it was early in the morning, the elevator moved quickly, not stopping at any other floors. It reached the 22nd floor in no time.

They stepped off the elevator. Hyun Woojin followed behind Haewon, his footsteps echoing eerily down the hallway. The sound of his shoes in the quiet corridor felt like it sucked all the energy out of the place. At the door of room 2205, Haewon stopped.
"This is it. Now you can go."
"Open the door. I’ll wait until I see you go inside."

"I don’t want to show you the password."
"I’m not interested in that. Just open the door."
He smiled as if it was absurd. It was 6 AM. Just like Haewon, who had been woken up and let go from the police station, Hyun Woojin had also spent the whole night awake. His eyes looked tired.
"It’s really fine. Just go. You must be tired."

"If you say one more word, I think you’ll really make me tired, so open the door."
"……."
If he were to be kind two more times, it seemed like he would break down the door of Haewon’s officetel, which didn’t even belong to him. Reluctantly, Haewon pressed the password. It was the previous one. If someone had been living there, the password would have been changed, and three wrong attempts would have set off an alarm. But with the prosecutor vouching for his identity, Haewon was now trying to break into someone else’s home in front of him.

Checking Hyun Woojin’s gaze, which seemed deliberately distracted from the door lock, Haewon calmly pressed the numbers.
86522……
When he pressed the star button, the lock clicked open, and the door unlocked.

Haewon let out a quiet sigh of relief. He felt a cold chill on his back, as if he had broken out in cold sweat from the tension. It seemed that neither his stepmother nor his father had touched the officetel yet. Haewon opened the door and spoke.
"Now, go."
"I’m going in."

"If you go, I’ll go in."
"I’ll go in first."
He was the one who had vouched for Haewon’s identity as a suspect. From his perspective, it was understandable to be concerned. Haewon opened the door and went in. As he let go of the door handle, it automatically closed. But ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Hyun Woojin grabbed it just before it closed and pushed it open without warning, stepping inside right behind Haewon.

The officetel was just as Haewon had left it. No one seemed to have come. Dust had gathered on the shelves. Hyun Woojin stepped past Haewon and went inside first, wearing his shoes.
He moved through the space without hesitation, as if searching for an intruder. His shoes left marks on the living room floor. After checking the bathroom, utility room, and every space where someone might be hiding, he even pulled open the curtains in front of the living room window. Hyun Woojin carefully checked the inside, then turned back to Haewon, who was standing by the door with a confused expression.
"There’s no one."

"Of course there’s no one."
"My expectations were off."
"What were you expecting?"

"I thought someone carrying an instrument worth millions wouldn’t be living in someone else’s house because they were broke. I thought maybe they were running away from someone. Since you’re standing by the door, I thought maybe that person was in there."
"……That person?"
"If someone like you doesn’t have a lover, isn’t that more strange?"

"Someone like me?"
Haewon wanted to ask what kind of person he thought he was. He seemed to be implying that he was the kind of person who would easily spread his legs for anyone.
"Yeah. Someone like you. You were trying to break my fingers to make me sit down after just a few days of being with me. Who would let that go?"

"……."
Haewon had originally left his officetel because of Kim Jaemin’s intrusion. Hyun Woojin’s words made sense. He had left because he didn’t want someone unwelcome in his space. But that had led to the officetel being transferred to his half-brother’s name.
"Letting it go makes you a fool."

"Thank you for your help today."
"You keep changing the subject."
He was trying to cross a boundary, and Haewon was pushing him back from it. He was making advances toward Haewon.

Hyun Woojin looked at Haewon with an emotionless gaze, but it was different from before. His eyes now had a predatory gleam, as if he were holding back a violent impulse, ready to snap Haewon’s neck at any moment. From the moment Haewon had mentioned that he knew about Taeshin and him, his eyes had changed.
"Are you doing this because you want to know what Taeshin said? Or…"
"Or?"

"Or…"
"Or are you asking this after almost raping me today?"
Haewon had almost been raped. Lee Jinyoung had tried to break Haewon’s fingers. Haewon had stabbed his sharp crystal-like eyes at Lee Jinyoung’s. He had aimed for his eyes, and he thought he had hit them. He hadn’t expected to miss.

"I’m not really curious about what Taeshin said. He probably said nice things. He always saw me in a good light."
"……."
His words were true. Taeshin had said only nice things about Hyun Woojin. He had an amazing voice, a handsome face, a tall figure, and a perfectly balanced physique. Thinking about it, Haewon realized that Taeshin, who specialized in sarcasm, might have been attracted to the three-dimensional appeal of that body.

"If it were me, I would’ve done it today."
"……."
"I wouldn’t have thought of breaking a violinist’s fingers. I would’ve done it today."

Haewon looked at him, unsure of what he meant or what he was saying. Hyun Woojin was looking at Haewon’s shirt, which had been nearly torn apart, the buttons misaligned and hastily shoved in place. Haewon wasn’t dressed, nor was he undressed.
"I don’t like that kind of thing."
Haewon muttered to him. Hyun Woojin tilted his head, clearly not hearing him well. He leaned closer to Haewon, his ear close to him, as if to catch the faint whisper.

"That kind of thing, what kind? Breaking fingers?"
Hyun Woojin’s voice had also lowered. He leaned in close, asking his question as if whispering something provocative. Haewon shook his head.
"No."

His lips curved into a smile, as if finding it amusing.
"Then, what do you dislike?"
"Stealing someone else’s man."

"……."
His eyes were close. There was no mercy in his gaze. Something stirred in the depth of his eyes. It stirred, yet it was quiet.
Haewon opened the door, stepping aside to ask him to leave. He stood silently, looking down at Haewon, and then, without a word, left the officetel.

∞ ∞ ∞
Lee Jinyoung discarded the clothes he had torn up, throwing them into the trash. He also threw away the pants and underwear. After showering, he changed into pajamas. The living room window, which Hyun Woojin had drawn the curtains over, dimly revealed the early morning sun. Haewon collapsed onto the bed.
Exhaustion hit him like a wave. He slept through the entire day, waking up only when the phone rang around 3 PM. He had slept so deeply that he hadn’t woken up once.

Despite his intense dislike for his father and stepmother, he couldn’t help but feel grateful that they had left his officetel alone. Haewon lifted his body from the goose-down blanket that had been burying him in the bed.
The bed was as expensive as his violin. Made entirely from natural materials and crafted by skilled artisans, it was a luxury item. The mattress, supplied to the Swedish royal family, felt as soft as a cloud.
It had been a long time since Haewon had stretched his body out comfortably and slept deeply. Forgetting even the events of the previous night, Haewon lazily stretched and reached for the phone on the side table.

"……."
It was an unknown number, but also a familiar one.
It was the number Haewon had dialed the previous night while sitting on the cold detention cell floor, looking at the business card. When he didn’t pick up, there was a missed call. He stared at the screen for a while, considering going back to bed, but the phone rang again. He couldn’t avoid it, and ignoring the call wasn’t an option either. Haewon gave up and answered the phone.

"Hello."
―Did you just wake up?
"……Yes."

The voice sounded mocking, as if asking sarcastically if Haewon had slept soundly after being half-killed.
―You need to come out.
"Me?"

―You need to write a statement, there’s a lot to do.
"Should I go to the police station?"
―I’ve already sent it to the prosecutor’s office, so just come here.

"Right now?"
―It’s a bit past 3 PM, so come around 5. Do you know where the Central District Prosecutor’s Office is?
"The taxi driver should know."

―Come to room 1014 in the main building.
After finishing the call, Haewon collapsed back onto the bed.
He thought of Hyun Woojin, whom he had encountered the previous night, or rather the early morning, in the detention center. His suit, without a tie, was slightly disheveled, and his body, having rushed in a hurry, still carried the chill of winter.

He didn’t know. Thinking was too tiring, and he didn’t want to think. Taeshin had liked that person. Haewon didn’t want to worry about someone like that. He wanted to waste the time lazily in bed, but there wasn’t enough time.
With a groan, Haewon rose from the bed. As he brushed his disheveled hair, he froze. There were clear marks on his wrist. Someone had grabbed it hard and then let go, leaving a deep bruise from the rough strength. He turned his wrist lightly. A dull pain flared up. Last night wasn’t a dream. Haewon’s hands, which had hurt someone, now trembled faintly.
He quickly left the officetel and hailed a taxi. About thirty minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of Lee Jinyoung’s apartment.

"Please wait. I’ll be down soon. I’ll pay for the waiting time."
Haewon asked the taxi driver to wait, then got out of the car.
The apartment was in the same chaotic state as the night before. Blood stains, now darkened, were scattered around. The police’s heavy footsteps had trampled the bloodstains, leaving brown marks on the floor. It was a gruesome scene, like a crime scene where a violent crime had taken place.

Haewon grabbed the half-packed suitcase he had left the night before. The taxi driver, who had been waiting in the car, followed him out and helped put the suitcase in the trunk. Haewon returned to his officetel with his suitcase. As he unpacked, he called his father.
―You held out a little longer this time?
"Leave the officetel alone. I’ll be here."

―Don’t say that.
Haewon firmly interrupted his father, who was about to nag.
"You know it’s unreasonable to tell me to go home. Haejeong isn’t your only child. I’m your child too. It’s cruel to tell me to live with my stepmother, and I won’t do it even if you beat me. If you insist, I’ll sell my violin. I’ll stop doing music."

His father was proud of Haewon being a violinist. He still believed in the words of a young music student, thinking Haewon had talent. He also knew that his mother, who loved music, had especially adored Haewon because of that.
Taking care of Haewon was his father’s way of atoning for not fulfilling his responsibilities toward Haewon’s biological mother. After a long silence, his father, sounding gloomy, spoke in a subdued tone.
―Stop by the office for a moment. I’ll give you the card.

"……I don’t need it. I’m tired of depending on you for financial support. I’ll figure it out on my own."
―I’ll be careful what I say around Haejeong’s mom. Don’t worry about it and take the card. You’re not going to live the way you’ve been living without money, no matter what you do. And people in the arts only need to focus on their art. Don’t get distracted by worries about survival.
His father’s words were true. If it became too difficult to make a living through music, Haewon would have to do something practical. Then, he would lose sight of what he was pursuing and focus only on survival.

Survival was incredibly important. Haewon, who could only play the violin, had limited options. It would be great if he could join an orchestra or work as a soloist, but with the overwhelming number of music students, the vacancies were rare, and the competition was fierce. He had missed his chance, letting it slip away when he didn’t need it.
Having lost his mother and given up on studying abroad and competitions, Haewon didn’t even have a decent portfolio. He had nothing to do except teach someone else. With his background, even if his father used his money, it was unlikely Haewon would become a professor at a university. If he were a symphony member, he might have received individual lessons, but as a freelancer, even contacting anyone was difficult.
There were seniors who started academies to teach kids near elementary schools, and others who gave private lessons to students preparing for exams. Even if Haewon wanted to teach at middle or high schools, he would need to fill out forms and paperwork, and he had neither the talent nor patience for teaching.

Worrying about survival would make him drift further from the world he wanted. He knew that, but he shook his head.
"I really don’t want to hear about my stepmother talking to you about me anymore. I don’t want to be treated like a foolish child. Please stop worrying about me. Just don’t touch the officetel. I really have nowhere else to go."