Chapter 24: A Late-Night Encounter

Chime.

‘Here they come.’

Seo Yeon-ho heard the convenience store door chime and, as if to make a point, pulled the tab of his canned beer.

Click.

Perhaps it was because he was conscious of Han Tae-young, but even though he wasn’t as thirsty as before, he drank the beer as quickly as he had the first can. Han Tae-young, who had been quietly watching him, let out a hollow chuckle.

“Are you a glutton? You didn’t actually take my comment about enjoying the beer as a genuine compliment, did you?”

“Cough.”

As Seo Yeon-ho choked and coughed, Han Tae-young recoiled in disgust, as if witnessing something vile, and stepped back. Seo Yeon-ho pulled a tissue from his vest and wiped his mouth and the table.

“Why are you picking a fight? Can’t I even drink my beer as I please?”

“Then why are you loitering in my territory?”

Han Tae-young blurted out something like a neighborhood thug.

“How is this your territory? It takes more than five minutes to drive from here to Elysium.”

Seo Yeon-ho retorted, utterly dumbfounded. While five minutes by car might seem close, it was a walk of over twenty minutes. Many people wouldn’t even bother going to a convenience store just five minutes away on foot, depending on whether there was a crosswalk or a hill.

“I always buy my cigarettes here.”

Seo Yeon-ho looked up at Han Tae-young with an even more incredulous gaze.

“That’s your reason for claiming this is your territory? You come quite a distance just to buy cigarettes.”

Seo Yeon-ho shook his head, looking as if he couldn’t be bothered to deal with a liar, and resumed drinking his beer. Annoyed that Han Tae-young had mocked him, his pace of drinking slowed considerably compared to before.

“The gas station is at the end of this alley. I just fill up my tank on the way home and buy cigarettes while I’m at it.”

Seo Yeon-ho mentally drew a map of the neighborhood. It was true that there was a self-service gas station at the end of the alley. It was also true that it was the closest gas station to Elysium. Han Tae-young’s claim that he specifically stopped at this convenience store because of the gas station seemed to be true.

“It’s a hassle because I have to make a U-turn to get gas when leaving my place.”

Han Tae-young said this almost defensively, then pulled a blue chair closer and sat down.

“Why are you sitting down without asking?”

“Did you lease this spot? I’m a customer of this convenience store too.”

Han Tae-young asserted his right to use the table as well, and then peeled off the plastic wrapping from a pack of cigarettes. It seemed that was what he had just bought from the convenience store.

“But why am I even explaining all this?”

Han Tae-young, having lowered his mask, exhaled a puff of smoke and grimaced.

“You’re not innocent. I met the person who tormented me at 2 AM. How can I *not* suspect stalking? The perpetrator should be the one to prove their innocence.”

“Are we still on that? I apologized then.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Seo Yeon-ho tipped the last drops of beer into his mouth, then opened his final can.

“No, I did.”

“You only promised to, but you didn’t, did you?”

Seo Yeon-ho glared at Han Tae-young, implicitly asking where he got the nerve to deny it. As if racking his brain for memories, Han Tae-young, a cigarette dangling from his lips, swept his hair back with a flourish. He looked like something out of a magazine photoshoot or a movie still.

Gulp, gulp.

Seo Yeon-ho closed his eyes and swallowed the beer. Perhaps due to the heat, he felt a flush creeping up his face.

“Why are you drinking so fast? Did something awful happen?”

“It’s none of your business how fast others drink.”

Seo Yeon-ho took a deep breath, his chest expanding. He caught a faint scent of alcohol on his inhale.

“Wouldn’t it be better for you if I just finished quickly and left?”

Han Tae-young fell silent. It seemed his desire to get the better of Seo Yeon-ho conflicted with his wish for him to leave quickly.

Seo Yeon-ho idly fiddled with the aluminum can before bringing the beer to his lips again.

“Not necessarily.”

Seo Yeon-ho flinched at Han Tae-young’s reply.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to leave quickly.”

Seo Yeon-ho remained still, the can pressed to his lips. He wasn’t usually a lightweight, but perhaps it was the bad day, as the alcohol seemed to hit him unusually fast.

“Why, do you want to torment me endlessly?”

“Why do you always assume the worst of people… Never mind.”

Han Tae-young exhaled a long stream of smoke with a sigh, then flicked cigarette ash into the mouth of a beer can. Seo Yeon-ho, who had been slightly tense, widened his eyes in disbelief at Han Tae-young’s outrage.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Why are you yelling? It’s empty, isn’t it? Didn’t you finish it?”

Han Tae-young shook the can, as if to check if there was any liquid left inside.

“See? It’s empty.”

“It’s not about whether it’s empty or not in the first place. It’s just something you shouldn’t do.”

Seo Yeon-ho snatched the empty can and tossed it into the general waste bin. He threw the remaining can into the recycling bin, just in case Han Tae-young tried the same stunt again.

“Why did you throw one in the general waste bin?”

Seo Yeon-ho looked back at Han Tae-young with an expression that said he was utterly exasperated.

“You’ve never done any housework, have you?”

“No.”

“That’s something to be proud of.”

Seeing his expression, which clearly asked, ‘Why should I?’, Seo Yeon-ho’s will to get angry vanished. Correcting common sense was harder than it seemed, and Seo Yeon-ho had no desire to expend that much energy on Han Tae-young.

“I guess I’ll have to look for a paper cup in my car to use as an ashtray.”

“Forget it.”

With a look of utter annoyance, Seo Yeon-ho pressed down on Han Tae-young’s shoulder as he rose from his seat. Han Tae-young openly scowled, as if he had been personally insulted.

“What are you doing?”

‘What a temper. Why is he so aggressive? He’d be better suited as a gangster or an athlete than an actor.’

Seo Yeon-ho clicked his tongue inwardly and offered a portable ashtray.

“Take it.”

“What is this? For me to use?”

“Would I have given it to you to throw away?”

Seo Yeon-ho shrugged and returned to his seat. Han Tae-young examined the portable ashtray, as if an unfamiliar object had just dropped into his hands.

“You don’t know what that is, do you?”

“Do you think I don’t know?”

Han Tae-young cursed with his eyes, then pointedly flicked ash into the ashtray.

“Just in case you misunderstood, I didn’t give that to you; I lent it.”

“Why would I take something someone else used?”

Han Tae-young, with a look that said he wouldn’t take such a thing even if offered, blew a stream of smoke in the opposite direction from where Seo Yeon-ho was sitting.

As their conversation died down, silence enveloped the surroundings. It was so late that there were no pedestrians or even passing cars.

Seo Yeon-ho twirled the can, which held only a few sips of beer, before speaking.

“You should carry a portable ashtray.”

He noticed their blurry reflections—Han Tae-young’s and his own—in the dark car. Seo Yeon-ho felt Han Tae-young’s gaze and took a small sip of beer.

“What will you do if you get caught on camera throwing cigarette butts everywhere?”

“You worry about everything.”

Han Tae-young blew smoke rings into the air. It seemed he was quite displeased to receive advice from a mere delivery driver.

‘I worried for nothing, after all.’

Seo Yeon-ho brought the remaining beer to his lips, intending to finish it in one go, but paused at Han Tae-young’s voice.

“Where did you leave your scooter and helmet? Why are you on foot?”

“My place is nearby.”

Seo Yeon-ho hesitated, debating whether to answer, then crushed the can as he replied. Han Tae-young seemed to have already noticed that he lived in the vicinity, so there was no need to lie.

“Then you must come here often, so why haven’t we ever run into each other until now?”

“Even if we had, you probably wouldn’t have remembered. Besides, it’s far more common for people living in the same neighborhood to never cross paths their entire lives.”

Although he said that, he rarely had a reason to come to this particular convenience store.

Everything sold at convenience stores was expensive, so he only stopped by for triangular kimbap, lunchboxes, or cigarettes. He usually ate out before coming home and only smoked while working, so there was no need to come all the way here to buy them.

“Is that so.”

Han Tae-young crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, extinguished it, then took out a new one and put it in his mouth.

‘I’m about to leave.’

Seo Yeon-ho had intended to ask for the ashtray back, but then changed his mind, deciding to let Han Tae-young finish the one he was currently smoking. After all, it was just as hot at home as it was here, and he probably wouldn’t fall asleep right away if he went back now.

‘He smokes so stylishly.’

Seo Yeon-ho pretended not to look, yet still stole a glance at Han Tae-young’s profile as he exhaled smoke. His relaxed posture in the chair and his smoking style made him look exactly like a neighborhood delinquent, yet it was strangely captivating.

‘So this is what they mean by someone who looks good no matter what they do.’

Seo Yeon-ho swallowed a sigh. Earlier, when Han Tae-young had shamelessly spouted off about having the aura of a top star, he’d genuinely thought he was insane.

He’d wondered what kind of absurd person this was, but now, a creeping thought suggested that it wasn’t self-absorption, but rather an accurate self-assessment.

‘If he just kept his mouth shut, he’d seem like an extraordinary person, so why does he always invite trouble with his words? Can’t he be a little more humble?’

Despite being twenty-four, Han Tae-young was as immature as a teenager. Perhaps it was because he’d grown up in an environment where he didn’t need to mature. And yet, he was a good actor.

The world was unfair.

‘I should have one too.’

Seo Yeon-ho looked at Han Tae-young with envious eyes, then fumbled in his vest pocket. Having had some alcohol, and with someone chain-smoking next to him, a natural craving for a cigarette arose.

‘Oh, no.’

He opened the cigarette pack to find it empty. All that remained were brown tobacco crumbs. He thought he still had a stub left, but it seemed he had miscalculated while at work.

‘Nothing goes right, even until the end.’

Seo Yeon-ho crumpled the cigarette pack and shoved it into his pocket. The convenience store was right there if he just turned his head, but he had spent his cigarette money on beer, so he couldn’t buy a new pack.

Seo Yeon-ho put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back. The sky was pitch black, devoid of stars. Instead of the Milky Way, white smoke, exhaled by Han Tae-young like a breath, drifted slowly into the air.

‘I want to smoke.’

Seo Yeon-ho squeezed his eyes shut. The scent of cigarette smoke mixed with perfume was driving him crazy. Human psychology was truly strange. He hadn’t craved a cigarette that much earlier. It was just a mild desire because someone nearby was smoking. But once he confirmed there wasn’t even a single stub left, he yearned for a cigarette more desperately than ever.

Thud! Slide.

Seo Yeon-ho opened his eyes at the sound of something being set down. He looked down to find a pack of cigarettes and a lighter tossed next to his crumpled beer can.

“What is this?”

Seo Yeon-ho repeated Han Tae-young’s earlier words. Han Tae-young replied without looking at him.

“Payment for the seat.”

It seemed he had noticed that Seo Yeon-ho was out of cigarettes. Why was that guy only perceptive at times like this?

“…Earlier you asked if I’d leased the spot.”

“So, are you not going to smoke it?”

Han Tae-young merely turned his head to look at Seo Yeon-ho. He had taken out his colored contact lenses at some point, as his eyes were amber. Seo Yeon-ho’s heart thumped like a car hitting a speed bump.

Seo Yeon-ho unnaturally turned his head, picking up the cigarettes and lighter.

“Don’t expect any thanks.”

“I don’t want to hear your gratitude, anyway.”

Seo Yeon-ho heard Han Tae-young’s sarcastic tone and flicked the lighter’s wheel. Click, click. He flicked it several times, but only sparks flew; no flame appeared. At first, he thought his hands were shaking, preventing it from lighting, but when he shook the lighter, there was no sound.

“The lighter must be out of fluid. No flame.”

Seo Yeon-ho didn’t say this for Han Tae-young to do something about the lighter. He had simply informed him so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced later when using it, but Han Tae-young seemed to have understood his words differently. Han Tae-young grabbed Seo Yeon-ho’s chin, making him look up, and then tilted his head towards him. Seo Yeon-ho stiffened as Han Tae-young’s face drew near. It was an angle that brought a kiss to mind.

Han Tae-young stared intently into Seo Yeon-ho’s eyes. They looked like the eyes of a predator eyeing its prey, or perhaps those of a rival being wary.

‘What is he trying to do?’

Seo Yeon-ho was confused, unsure of Han Tae-young’s intentions, when Han Tae-young spoke, his cigarette still in his mouth.

“Light it.”

“Huh?”

“‘Huh’ what? I told you to light it, why are you just staring? Don’t you know how to light a cigarette?”

Han Tae-young snapped. It was clear that his patience was dwindling faster than a burning cigarette.

In truth, Seo Yeon-ho had his own lighter. Of course, he was a smoker. But instead of pulling out his lighter, Seo Yeon-ho leaned towards Han Tae-young and touched their cigarettes together.

His heart pounded rapidly, as if he were committing a misdeed. Seo Yeon-ho kept his gaze on Han Tae-young’s lips instead of his eyes, and drew on the filter.

*Sizzle.*