Chapter 43: No Place to Hide

His thoughts shut down completely.

“…What?”

Was this what it meant for one’s mind to go blank?

At Eun-gyeol’s single sentence, which struck like lightning, it felt as though the brain capable of thinking had split cleanly in two.

His head, having entirely lost its function, couldn’t form a single thought.

He should have denied it right away—asked if he’d lost his mind, told him to stop spouting bullshit.

Or else laughed it off, the way Eun-gyeol had in the past.

Said it was disgusting just to think about, that he didn’t even want to imagine it.

Because between friends, that was the only reaction that made sense.

“…W-what… are you even saying.”

But that was all that came out of Han-geon’s mouth.

Even those words had been dragged out with difficulty, wrung from the very bottom of his soul.

Eun-gyeol slowly picked up the bag lying on the bed.

Then he turned it upside down.

What spilled out were hundreds of photo cards.

The very ones Han-geon had carefully stored away in a drawer all this time.

“…..”

Staring at the vividly colored cards scattered across the bed, Han-geon completely lost the will to fight.

It felt as if he himself had been thrown naked onto that bed.

No—that would have been a hundred times better.

At least then, there would’ve been some form of defense.

This felt like being hurled onto a battlefield utterly defenseless.

Say something.

Put them back.

Fix this.

Fix this situation—now!

The orders screaming in his head demanded obedience.

He couldn’t just stand here like an idiot.

This was the only chance to turn things back.

His instincts were screaming that fact.

Han-geon barely parted his lips, which felt dry and brittle, like dead leaves about to crumble.

“…That— that’s because I’m your man- manager.”

“Do managers usually go this far?”

The cold voice cut him off.

It was telling him to shut up, that he’d heard enough of such pathetic excuses.

Those dry eyes.

Never—not once—had Eun-gyeol ever looked at him like this.

The desiccated gaze made his throat tighten on its own.

His Adam’s apple bobbed painfully.

“Why can’t you answer?

Huh?”

“…..”

“Tell me.

What is it you’re doing all this for.”

Eun-gyeol picked up one of the ornately decorated photo cards, then tossed it back onto the bed.

For someone touching his own image, his movements were disturbingly indifferent.

“Is it really as my manager?”

At first glance, the tone sounded calm.

But to Han-geon, the disgust filling it was unmistakable.

He was scared—so scared he couldn’t bear it—and his head shook instinctively in answer.

“…N-no.

I know exactly what you’re misunderstanding, but I—”

“Yeah?

Then.”

Eun-gyeol suddenly reached out.

“What’s this, then.”

It would have been better if he’d strangled him with that hand.

Yes—up to the photo cards, at least, he could’ve said he hated seeing Eun-gyeol’s pictures being resold online, could’ve made up some excuse.

But what Eun-gyeol was holding out now—

—was Han-geon’s phone.

The one that could only be unlocked with Han-geon’s fingerprint.

The very folder he’d hidden.

Eun-gyeol petting a cat.

Eun-gyeol eating tteokbokki.

Eun-gyeol sitting beside him, smiling.

And within it, neatly categorized: countless press photos, fan-taken shots, pictorials—

Dozens.

Hundreds.

Eun-gyeol’s eyes stared at him, filled with revulsion.

“You said you were protecting me from dangerous stalkers—turns out the creepiest one was you all along?”

The face Han-geon had always thought so beautiful was smiling as it condemned him.

Asking what kind of disgusting thing this was.

Saying he was no better—no, worse—than those stalkers.

“Why— why did you… go through it!

Without permission!”

He couldn’t breathe.

Only much later did his cracked voice finally burst out.

He reached for the phone, but with a light movement, Eun-gyeol pulled it farther away.

Han-geon’s hand sliced uselessly through the air before falling limply.

“Give— give it back… give it back!”

“Han-geon.

Think.”

Eun-gyeol’s voice remained flat and icy.

“At your place, I find hundreds of my photo cards.

And as if that’s not enough, you’ve got an entire folder dedicated to me on your phone.”

“…..”

“And yet you were rolling around in a hotel room with the guy I hate the most?”

Snake-like eyes gleamed as they fixed on Han-geon—eyes that looked ready to strangle him to death.

Lifting his chin arrogantly, Eun-gyeol continued in a biting tone.

“So at this point, what do you think is the priority issue here?”

“…..”

Thud.

Eun-gyeol placed the phone down on the bed.

The brightly lit screen still displayed dozens of Eun-gyeol’s faces.

The moment Han-geon saw it, his stomach lurched violently.

“Me opening your phone with your fingerprint and snooping without permission?”

Eun-gyeol’s lips curved upward.

“Or the fact that a friend I trusted was doing god knows what with my photos behind my back.”

“How about we sit down and talk about that now?”

As he said it, perching himself on the bed, Eun-gyeol’s tone dripped with mockery.

And yet, Han-geon couldn’t fight back at all.

There were things Han-geon should have demanded answers for.

Why Eun-gyeol had gone through his drawers when he wasn’t home.

How he’d even found those photos.

Why he’d gone through someone else’s phone while they were asleep and uncovered a hidden folder.

And—

Why, why, did he have to rip open the feelings Han-geon had planned to bury and hide for the rest of his life, exposing them this cruelly?

Yes.

He admitted it.

From Eun-gyeol’s point of view, it must be grotesque.

Confusing.

Maybe even revolting.

To learn that a grimy beta man—someone whose attraction was so disgusting he didn’t even want to imagine it—had been looking at him with different feelings all along.

Hiding those feelings had been ugly, shameful, tear-inducing—and unbearably hard.

And yet, for someone who lived practically fused to him like a twin, those feelings could never be shown.

The years he’d spent in constant fear of being found out—calling it a lifetime wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

But to Eun-gyeol, all of that seemed easy.

Without a shred of hesitation, he dragged out the feelings Han-geon had fought so desperately to hide and threw them down.

Then displayed them openly, mocking them.

Making all of Han-geon’s efforts look not just foolish—but utterly insignificant, like dust.

“When did it start?”

The voice delivering the cruel interrogation was low and sunken.

“I asked when.”

His unwavering eyes were demanding to know since when Han-geon had dared to look at him with such impure feelings.

In the end, Eun-gyeol was forcing him—ordering him—to pass sentence with his own mouth for the crime of having emotions a friend should never have.

“…..”

“You’re not going to answer?”

He couldn’t.

Because even Han-geon himself didn’t know.

By the time he’d realized those feelings had sprouted on their own, their thick, tangled roots had already wrapped around the very bottom of his heart.

They ran so deep that pulling them out would have ripped his heart out entirely.

How could he possibly explain the beginning?

Even if he knew, he couldn’t say it.

Never.

If he named a specific time, Eun-gyeol would regret everything they’d shared since then.

He couldn’t stain the time Eun-gyeol had protected so tearfully under the name of “friendship.” He couldn’t let him regret the years they’d spent together.

“Fine.

If you don’t want to say it, don’t.”

Eun-gyeol twisted one corner of his mouth upward.

“Either way, if your so-called pure love can switch over to that Yoo Junseong bastard after knowing him for only a few weeks, it couldn’t have been all that special.”

“Don’t— don’t say it like that!”

Han-geon roared as he glared at Eun-gyeol.

“I told you it’s not true!

I said I didn’t sleep with Yoo Junseong!”

“You didn’t?”

“Yes!

I didn’t!

So please, stop with that kind of misunderstanding—!”

Before he could finish, his mouth snapped shut.

Eun-gyeol’s hand shot forward.

That beautiful hand that had always brushed over his face and body as if teasing now slid into his collar and grabbed him by the scruff.

Han-geon gasped in shock.

Right now… Cha Eun-gyeol is grabbing me by the collar…?

“Alright, Han-geon.

If you’re really that innocent, then we can just check.”

With brutal force, he shoved Han-geon forward, slamming him face-down onto the bed.

Before his stunned mind could even process what was happening, his vision was violently buried into the soft pillow.

At the same time, Eun-gyeol’s full weight settled against the backs of his thighs.

The speed at which his flailing arms were pinned together was impossibly fast.

Then a cold voice dropped, slicing through the air with merciless clarity.

“If you’re lying, then I’ll f*cking kill both you and that Yoo Junseong bastard.”