The room they entered felt not just bare, but hollow. Beds set to either side, bookcases lined with each one’s belongings or books, and, taking up a corner of the room, an opaque drape hanging down from the ceiling. He’d expected something flashier or more decorated—name value of an idol’s room and all—but what unfolded was bleak. Having opened the door without hesitation, Sihyeon tilted his head a little, then walked straight to the drape.He slid aside the curtainlike fabric at his fingertips, and a three-tier garment rack, neatly organized by type, came into view. From shirts to coats, pants, even simple accessories—everything was lined up tidily on hooks along the wall, so orderly it went past neat into something like pathological.Was this Lee Sihyeon’s doing too. Come to think of it, he vaguely remembered hearing something about a touch of compulsive cleanliness.Chan had followed in at some point; seeing Sihyeon standing there looking at the arranged rack, he drifted up without a sound and spoke low.“…Why? I didn’t touch anything.”The tone was familiar. Listening to Chan’s voice, as if he were calmly checking Sihyeon’s reaction, Sihyeon could tell without being told that things like this had happened often in the past. Not only had he kicked a roommate out of a shared room, he’d piled hysteria on top of a cleanliness fixation. Even someone as uninterested as he was found it absurd by this point—and seeing Chan respond to it as if to accept it yet again, he couldn’t help thinking, what is he, a bodhisattva.Sensing Sihyeon looking at him, Chan’s gaze dropped as well. The exterior looked cool at a glance, but there was a pull that made it hard to look away. Double-lidless eyes, pupils all black, were bleak, and yet they pricked at the nerves in an odd way; stare too long and your own gaze naturally slid aside first.He was already giving off this scent now—who knew what he’d be like if he grew more—Sihyeon clicked his tongue and spoke.“From now on, you don’t have to do that. I don’t care if you mess it up within reason.”“……….”“If it ever gets too much, I’ll say so… Act your age. Now.”He said it, remembering Chan was still only nineteen. Sure, come next month he’d be an adult, but there’s a big gap between minor and adult. Back when he’d been Lee Hajin, he’d been pretty tidy for a man, and his circumstances hadn’t been average, so he didn’t know ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) much about “normal.” But he did know this: a young man in his prime, minding a million things in a room that felt like a germaphobe’s, could find it stressful.Chan only looked at him in silence.It was hard to read, but it felt a little like the gaze you give something fascinating.He wasn’t waiting for an answer, so once he’d said all he wanted, Sihyeon turned his head with a slightly tired face. This body fatigued easily with just a little movement and he wasn’t used to it, but even so, it was much improved from when he’d first woken; he took comfort in that. Back in the hospital he’d slept more than he’d been awake; now he could stay up a decent stretch.It’s something, he thought, and was debating which of the two beds was his when—A cool palm pulled at his wrist.“Ah…”Before he could register what was happening, his body was drawn in without effort and stopped right in front of Chan. He lifted his head, not understanding, and Chan—who’d been staring down at what he’d reeled in—let go of his wrist and reached with the other hand to lightly grasp Sihyeon’s neck. Ah, so that’s it—skip everything and just kill me. He carried on the joke in his head—surely there was a lot built up—when, with his neck held, a thumb pressed lightly and turned his head gently to the side; he realized this had been the aim from the start.The stare stretched, unbroken.The posture of being caught in that relentless look was uncomfortable; just as Sihyeon started to speak—“Earlier.”A low, damp voice.“Here…”The breath reached him along with the words; a chill ran over his skin and he hunched his neck a bit. Fingers had somehow climbed up and were rubbing softly behind his ear. He winced at the sting and his brow tightened; Chan’s face, watching that, tilted a little closer. On the white nape, behind the hair, there was a red scratch behind Sihyeon’s ear. It was clearly the wound from the van earlier.Against that unusually white skin, it wasn’t deep, but there was something inexplicably plaintive about it, and Chan bent his head without hesitation.The feel of a wet tongue; with the hot sting of the wound, the unfiltered sound of slow saliva seeped straight into his ear.Startled at the blatant situation, Sihyeon pushed at Chan’s shoulder, but he didn’t budge. Only after he’d licked over the wound several more times, as if satisfied, did Chan let him go. Face-to-face again, Chan’s expression was still blank, cool as could be.“…What are you—”“Behind your ear. You got hurt.”At Chan’s usual voice, Sihyeon reflexively reached behind his ear with his fingertips and, with the slight swell and sting, felt damp skin and pinched his brows. People lick wounds because they’re there? It didn’t compute by his lights, but Chan’s face looked at him like, so I disinfected it, so matter-of-fact he finally let out a small sigh and stopped thinking.Whatever, he thought. He doesn’t seem to be teasing me, either.Right now he was just too tired. It felt like he could drop and sleep on the spot; he blinked fast a few times and Chan, catching it like a ghost, tugged lightly at his wrist and led him to the bed on the right side of the room. Is this my bed? He’d been wondering that already, so he let himself be towed and, the moment he sat, he collapsed, face burrowing into the pillow.He looked exhausted. Watching with a pang, Chan heard Sihyeon’s voice fumble out. He was almost asleep.“I’m… going to sleep a bit… if something comes up… wake me…”Okay. I won’t wake you. Chan answered in his head, perched lightly on the edge of the bed, looking down at Sihyeon’s face as he fell asleep in an instant. The unguarded face still felt nothing but strange.Before, never mind a sleeping face, he’d only ever seen him bristling, screaming sharp at the slightest touch, his body shaking.Even when Chan took care of what he needed, Sihyeon would act like he hadn’t seen it, and from the moment they started sharing a room he’d fumble and fret until finally, as if something he’d been bottling up burst, that voice would come like a scream. He still remembered it.Please, get out.Back then, Lee Sihyeon wasn’t looking at Yoo Chan. He looked at someone projected onto Chan’s face—tired, pained. Chan had seen that and left the room without another word. He’d been seventeen, still young; he must have been overflowing with resentment at Sihyeon’s incomprehensible behavior, and yet Yoo Chan quietly lived in the uncomfortable studio or on the living room sofa, sometimes on the Manager’s bed when he went home. The members, feeling bad, tried to set up a proper bed in the studio, but he’d refuse with a firm shake of the head. It was a situation you’d expect to spark anger, and yet, oddly, he’d never once felt angry. Lee Sihyeon had nothing to say to that.“…Huh? Is Sihyeon asleep?”Knock, knock. Sanyoo came in after tapping on the door, looked between Sihyeon sleeping on the bed and Chan gazing down at him, and asked. At the question, Rajoon out in the living room went, “Hyung’s asleep?” and scampered in; Euihyun, flipping through TV channels with an irritated face, lifted his head toward the room and sauntered in too.“Huh? Isn’t this Chan’s bed?”Seeing the sleeping Sihyeon, Rajoon spoke like it was odd, but Chan, face blank as ever, didn’t answer. He must have just lain down from being tired? Rajoon scooted in, knelt by the bed, and stared up at the sleeping face with bright eyes. Maybe he’d sunk into deep sleep by then—his slightly parted lips moved; it was just fascinating, and pretty, and good. Noticing Rajoon staring, gone mindless, Sanyoo let out a short laugh, came over, and spoke up a little ruefully.“I was going to feed him dinner before putting him down.”He smoothed back Sihyeon’s hair once, gently. The neat forehead revealed, then vanished again.“Leave him. Don’t wake him. Feed him when he gets up.”Leaning crookedly by the door, Euihyun said it, and Sanyoo nodded, then let’s do that. Honestly, none of them had planned on waking him like this. Whatever had happened, despite the big accident, Sihyeon was so absurdly fine—aside from light bruises—that it shocked everyone. But as if in exchange for that, his sleep time had ballooned to where most of his hours were spent asleep.He hadn’t been the type to sleep much; they worried something was wrong. But the hospital had said there was nothing out of order, and aside from the sleep, his body seemed fine, so none of them made an issue of him sleeping. If anything, they were careful not to wake him once he was out. Not that they needed to be: Sihyeon slept so deeply that you could carry him off and he wouldn’t know; unless you shook him awake, he didn’t stir. Unlike before, when he’d been wound too tight.“Dinner’s ready!”Hearing the Manager shout from the kitchen, the members around Sihyeon rose one by one and slipped out of the room. They didn’t forget to pull the blanket up snug to his neck, then closed the door gently—and vanished into the dark.***Park Gangjun’s mood had bottomed out and was nearing the mantle. For someone usually cheerful, it was rare, but a chain of explosions had driven his irritation to max, and he couldn’t hide it; tension soaked the whole set. Lee Sihyeon—just the name made his teeth grind, and he wondered if his molars weren’t literally worn down by now. Nothing had pleased him from the start—damn it. Park Gangjun ground his teeth again.Who was he! He was what you’d call the hottest drama director these days. From his debut “Dramatic SHOW” he’d blown the roof off, and every drama he’d taken since had rocketed down the hit road; thanks to that, every production company was ringing him nonstop with love calls. He had basic sense, he had skill, he wasn’t bad-looking—well, maybe not that part. In any case, when the investors pressured him to put Lee Sihyeon in as a supporting role for this drama, it was like taking a punch to the pride.He’d said no again and again, but in the end he swallowed the mustard and accepted—and he already knew what level Lee Sihyeon’s acting sat at.From the days he’d popped up in bit parts, he’d thought, the face alone is damned phenomenal, but if you looked coolly, there was nothing else to see. That had been laid bare in the last drama where Lee Sihyeon had played the lead. It was a classic melo, tears and tangled emotional lines all over, and as the man in love with a woman so much he’d cut off family and friends, the on-screen Lee Sihyeon was pure half-baked.Especially when a kiss scene or physical contact came up, that minute furrow that crept into his brow—you think someone as sharp as Park Gangjun would miss it? Why cast a face-only idol knockoff actor and tank the drama? Less than a year after he’d shut the TV off before it even ended out of disbelief—now he was the one using that actor. What the hell.“Still not here?”“Sir? Uh, we’re not past call time yet, Director.”“Ha. If because of him the schedule blew up and all hell broke loose, he should be here the day before, waiting. This is driving me nuts…”It wasn’t even that delayed, in truth. “Jihan,” the role Lee Sihyeon had taken, came in from episode four, and the schedule wasn’t that tight, so they were shooting scenes with other actors in the meantime—but once you hate someone, the smallest thing looks hateful. The assistant director beside him could only give an awkward laugh at the director’s petulant griping.He himself had been shocked at the news that Lee Sihyeon had died in a car accident. Because of a late-night shoot, he’d supposedly driven the van alone and, with brake failure, jumped the guardrail and died on the spot—the article had made his vision go black for a moment. First he’d thought of the contract fee Lee Sihyeon had already received; next came the now-vacant supporting role.It was awful to say about someone who’d died so unlucky, but to him it looked half good, half bad. With Lee Sihyeon’s acting, “Jihan”—a role the drama couldn’t do without—would surely be ruined anyway. Better to seize the chance and cast someone with solid chops, he’d been thinking, when—he saw the news the next day that Lee Sihyeon had come back to life.It felt like taking a hammer to the back of the head—again.He’d stopped mid-ring through other actors and fallen into meltdown; how much worse must it be for him.Director Park had a self-satisfied streak, but he also had a childish side; the split between how he treated what he liked and didn’t like was stark. Dressing down actors who couldn’t act was the baseline; he was pleasant enough, but when he worked his barbs came unfiltered. A tiger the moment the cue sign went up, even when he’d been all smiles seconds before.But they weren’t baseless nitpicks—his perfectionism and sense made his critiques right, and there was nothing to argue. A man like that was never going to like Lee Sihyeon. He hated actors without skill; he despised actors who, on top of having no skill, had backing.Lee Sihyeon was the latter, so how could he not.Thinking how blatantly he’d be trampled from here on, the assistant director felt a twinge of pity and shook his head. He didn’t like the guy either, but still… Director Park was still grumbling, muttering clearly-aimed curses at Lee Sihyeon, and before long the set, hectic a moment ago, began to ripple oddly.What the—? He turned toward the murmuring. Someone was coming in this way.“…Hello.”Of course, the face was the knock-you-dead Lee Sihyeon.

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