Chapter 11: The Unveiling of Unit 2104

Seo Yeon-ho asked directly. Even though he could have confirmed Han Tae-young’s apartment number simply by stepping out of the elevator, he pressed the issue about Unit 2104. He desperately hoped the resident of 2104 wouldn’t turn out to be Tae-young.

Han Tae-young, seemingly oblivious to Seo Yeon-ho’s inner turmoil, chuckled slyly, much like Bae Da-ro from the drama *Cold Reading*.

“Why are you acting like you didn’t know?” Han Tae-young asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you bothered that you got caught trying to ‘terrorize’ my home?”

Given his lack of denial, it seemed Unit 2104 truly was Han Tae-young’s apartment.

Seo Yeon-ho held his breath, counting to ten in his mind. This was his usual coping mechanism when faced with an unpalatable reality he had no choice but to accept.

It was irritating and unpleasant to discover that the lead actor of a drama he had genuinely enjoyed was such a rotten, ill-mannered person. Yet, what could he do?

He knew, fundamentally, that an actor and their role should always be viewed separately. Regularly playing virtuous characters didn’t make someone inherently good, nor did portraying villains imply an evil disposition.

Actors were a species one shouldn’t project expectations or fantasies onto based solely on their on-screen personas. Seo Yeon-ho, having worked on film sets, understood this better than anyone.

‘Not only was his address real, but the rumors about his terrible personality were true too.’

Experiencing it firsthand, he now realized that the assessments of Han Tae-young, which he had dismissed as mere gossip, were in fact the unvarnished truth.

To be an actor with no rumors because all the rumors were true — he mused that Han Tae-young must never face unfair accusations in life.

“So, you’re aware you’ve done things that warrant being ‘terrorized’?”

Having finally composed himself, Seo Yeon-ho retorted to Han Tae-young with a frosty tone. Uttering his thoughts aloud only made Han Tae-young seem even more despicable.

The fact that Han Tae-young had immediately assumed Seo Yeon-ho was there to ‘terrorize’ him suggested he must habitually upset people enough to provoke thoughts of revenge.

“And you, you’re pretending otherwise, but you came here for retaliation, didn’t you?”

“Don’t drag me down to your level,” Seo Yeon-ho shot back. “I’ve never tormented an innocent person for my own amusement, unlike you.”

“Innocent?”

Han Tae-young’s relaxed smile twisted into a grimace. With the intensity of someone about to push an enemy off a cliff, he strode purposefully toward Seo Yeon-ho.

‘This lunatic, why is he suddenly like this? Does he have anger issues?’

Seo Yeon-ho retreated, widening the distance between them. Han Tae-young, his eyes glinting menacingly, stared down at Seo Yeon-ho and abruptly grasped the elevator handrail.

The proximity was too much. With nowhere left to retreat, Seo Yeon-ho instinctively grabbed the elevator handle himself.

Instead of cold metal, however, his palm met firm, warm skin. Seo Yeon-ho instinctively realized it was a human hand, though it took him a moment to process that it was Han Tae-young’s.

“What are you trying to pull?”

Only after Han Tae-young’s growl did Seo Yeon-ho startle, snatching his hand away.

“It was a mistake,” Seo Yeon-ho insisted. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t cornered me.”

His heart pounded fiercely, as if he had sprinted at full speed under the scorching sun. He couldn’t understand why his palm felt so inexplicably hot.

Even from that brief touch, the prominent veins and hard knuckles on Han Tae-young’s hand lingered in his palm, as if etched there.

An awkward silence stretched between Han Tae-young and Seo Yeon-ho.

****

*Ding! Clang.*

Just as the tense atmosphere reached a peak, the elevator doors slid open.

“Let’s talk outside,” Han Tae-young declared. “I don’t want to go all the way down to the underground parking lot again.”

Han Tae-young glanced at the floor number, then seized Seo Yeon-ho’s wrist and pulled him along. Stumbling after Han Tae-young, Seo Yeon-ho’s eyes fell upon Unit 2103, and his mind suddenly cleared.

“I have nothing to discuss with you,” Seo Yeon-ho stated, attempting to pull his arm back. “Please let go.”

“You were speaking informally just a moment ago,” Han Tae-young countered. “Why the sudden switch to honorifics?”

“That’s because you keep speaking informally to me, isn’t it?” Seo Yeon-ho retorted. “Mr. Han Tae-young, you’re the one who should stop using casual speech.”

“No, thanks,” Han Tae-young scoffed. “I don’t use honorifics with kids younger than me.”

“Who said I’m younger than you?” Seo Yeon-ho challenged. “You and I are the same age.”

“Same age?”

Han Tae-young scrutinized Seo Yeon-ho with an expression that suggested he was hearing the most ridiculous lie, then abruptly leaned his face closer.

Seo Yeon-ho’s face flushed under Han Tae-young’s intense, probing gaze. At some point, Han Tae-young had removed his remaining contact lens, as both his eyes were now the same color.

Not only were his irises a light brown, but his eyelashes were also pale, giving him a somewhat mixed-race appearance.

“Can’t tell your age,” Han Tae-young muttered.

As if by habit, Han Tae-young’s eyes flickered between Seo Yeon-ho’s, then he straightened up. Seo Yeon-ho let out a shallow breath, like a rookie actor stepping away from an audition camera.

He couldn’t fathom why Han Tae-young’s mere gaze had caused his body to stiffen with such inexplicable tension.

“Show me your ID.”

“What?”

Seo Yeon-ho was about to press his hand to his dizzy forehead when Han Tae-young uttered another outlandish demand. Doubting his own ears, Seo Yeon-ho looked up at him.

With Han Tae-young still gripping his wrist, their stance in the hallway appeared rather peculiar.

“I said, show me your ID to prove we’re the same age. You could be lying about your age, and I need evidence to avoid being tricked.”

First a terrorist, now a swindler? This man truly ran the gamut of accusations.

Convinced that Han Tae-young was a paranoid individual, Seo Yeon-ho abruptly turned away. He didn’t even want to argue about why he should show his ID.

His experience with various difficult customers at Cherry Picker had taught him that the best course of action with someone radiating such a strong ‘crazy’ vibe was simply to avoid them.

“Where are you going?”

“Where else would I go?” Seo Yeon-ho replied. “To make my delivery.”

Han Tae-young refused to release his wrist, making Seo Yeon-ho and Han Tae-young’s arms stretch taut, as if in a tug-of-war.

“I don’t have time to argue with you,” Seo Yeon-ho pressed. “Please let go. If my delivery goes over the estimated time and I get penalized, will you take responsibility?”

“Still trying to insist you’re here for a delivery?” Han Tae-young scoffed. “That story isn’t working.”

“Whether you believe me or not is none of my concern,” Seo Yeon-ho stated firmly. “Just don’t interfere with someone doing their job.”

“Hmm,” Han Tae-young murmured.

Han Tae-young narrowed his eyes, stroked his chin thoughtfully, then pressed himself closer to Seo Yeon-ho. Startled, Seo Yeon-ho flinched.

“Fine,” Han Tae-young conceded. “Deliver it. You can still walk even if I’m holding your hand.”

‘But who was it that was just holding my arm, preventing me from moving…?’

Too weary to argue further, Seo Yeon-ho sighed, tilting his head to the side.

“Surely you don’t mean to follow me to the delivery address like this?”

“Yep.”

Han Tae-young nodded, his expression questioning what the problem was.

“Are you just… idle?”

“Not idle, no, but you’re making me curious.”

Seo Yeon-ho’s head throbbed. He longed to rub the aching spot on his temple, but with his hand tethered to that wretched Han Tae-young and the gamjatang, he could only grimace.

Despite speaking the same language, he felt as though they weren’t communicating at all.

“Then at least hold this.”

Seo Yeon-ho extended the bag containing the delivery food toward Han Tae-young.

“Why would I hold this?” Han Tae-young scoffed. “How do I know what’s inside?”

Han Tae-young’s wary demeanor was evident. It seemed he still hadn’t discarded his paranoid conspiracy theory that Seo Yeon-ho was there to harm him.

“Because I need to ring the doorbell,” Seo Yeon-ho explained. “If you don’t want to hold it, then let go of my hand.”

“Where’s the delivery address?”

“There.”

Seo Yeon-ho gestured with his chin toward the front door of Unit 2103.

“Unit 2103?”

“Yes.”

Han Tae-young’s handsome eyebrows shot up. His face was a mixture of disbelief and hesitant belief, wondering whether to trust Seo Yeon-ho’s words.

“Give it here.”

Han Tae-young snatched the bag from Seo Yeon-ho’s hand, lifting it to his eye level to inspect the receipt.

“Be a little careful, won’t you?” Seo Yeon-ho admonished. “What if the bag tears?”

As if Seo Yeon-ho’s words hadn’t even registered, Han Tae-young continued to babble on with his own thoughts.

“You even went to the trouble of faking a receipt,” he remarked. “You really prepared a lot.”

“Why would I put in that much effort for you?” Seo Yeon-ho scoffed, exasperated. “Can’t you stop being so self-important? Say something that actually makes sense.”

With a look of utter exasperation, Seo Yeon-ho glared at Han Tae-young, then advanced toward Unit 2103. He worried internally that Han Tae-young might stop him again, but thankfully, this time, he didn’t resist and simply followed along.

‘It would be even better if he’d let go of my hand already.’

Seo Yeon-ho found the sight amusing: a man a head taller than him trailing obediently behind. Han Tae-young, it seemed, had no sense of shame when it came to such things.

*Ding-dong-ding-dong, ding-dong-ding-dong.*

When he pressed the doorbell for Unit 2103, music emanated from the speaker. Seo Yeon-ho looked up into the air, waiting for a response, while Han Tae-young leaned against the wall, staring intently at him.

Feeling as though holes were being drilled into his face, Seo Yeon-ho finally spoke.

“When are you going to let go of my hand?”

“It’s not my hand, it’s my wrist I’m holding.”

“Don’t play word games. You know exactly what I mean.”

“I’m holding you so you don’t run off.”

‘Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.’

Seo Yeon-ho suppressed the urge to glare at Han Tae-young. He knew that any reaction would only amuse him and provoke him to be even more irritating.

*Ding-dong, click.*

The doorbell music ceased, and silence returned to the hallway.

‘Were they in the bathroom and couldn’t hear the doorbell?’

A sense of foreboding settled over Seo Yeon-ho as he pressed the bell again. Still, Unit 2103 showed no signs of life until the music eventually faded.

When the third ring was also ignored, Han Tae-young grinned triumphantly, like someone who had just won a bet, and pushed himself off the wall.

“Are you sure Unit 2103 ordered this delivery? It really doesn’t seem like it.”

As if to suggest the apartment was empty, Han Tae-young tapped lightly on the front door.

“Just admit you came here for revenge. If you confess now, I might even be willing to forgive you, seeing as you went to the trouble of faking a receipt.”

His swaggering, conceited manner was so utterly obnoxious it made Seo Yeon-ho want to punch him. If anyone deserved an apology, it was Seo Yeon-ho, certainly not Han Tae-young.

“Mr. Han Tae-young, perhaps you should just shut your mouth?” Seo Yeon-ho snapped. “It seems Unit 2103 learned how to ignore people and leave them waiting outside from you.”

Yes, Unit 2103 was clearly mimicking Han Tae-young’s nasty tricks. Seo Yeon-ho inwardly fumed, wondering what on earth was wrong with the residents of this apartment building.

‘Was there a prerequisite that only people with terrible personalities could move in?’

“Who lives in 2103? Is the guy in 2103 also some actor?”

Han Tae-young reacted more intensely than Seo Yeon-ho had expected. He seemed displeased that someone was imitating him.

“How would I know that? Mr. Han Tae-young, as a neighbor, you’d know better.”

Seo Yeon-ho opened the app and called the customer. If Unit 2103 was like Unit 2104—no, like Han Tae-young—there was a high chance they’d ignore the call too. However, making the call was necessary to avoid responsibility later if any issues arose.

“–Hello? Who is this?”

Contrary to Seo Yeon-ho’s expectations, the call connected immediately. He had been waiting only for the right moment to press the end call button, so he hastily brought the phone to his ear.

“Ah, yes. I’m the delivery rider. Are you home right now?”

“–Yes, I’m here.”

Home? Seo Yeon-ho’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I just rang the doorbell, did you not hear it?”

“–I didn’t hear anything. Are you really in front of my house right now?”

“Yes, I am.”

“–The intercom shows no one outside.”

*Click, thud!*

A unlocking sound was followed by the front door opening. However, the door that had just opened belonged to Unit 2104, not 2103.