Chapter 61: Unexpected Revelations

“That’s true.”

A sharp ache pulsed through Yeon-ho’s heart at Tae-young’s reply. Why? Yeon-ho had fully expected Tae-young to answer in just that way. Yet, when Tae-young offered no denial, a profound sense of anguish settled over him. Could it be that he had secretly, against all logic, wished for Tae-young to refute his words?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tae-young asked, a bewildered expression crossing his face as he noticed Yeon-ho’s stiffened features.

_Ring-ring, ring-ring._

Just then, the phone rang, a perfectly timed interruption. Yeon-ho turned his back to Tae-young and pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

‘Oh, Yeon-ho. What time will you get here?’

Hyo-jun’s voice flowed from the receiver. Yeon-ho inwardly cursed, pressing a hand to his forehead. He hadn’t prepared an excuse for why he hadn’t left yet, and now Hyo-jun had called.

“I’m sorry, hyung. Something came up, so I couldn’t leave.”

“Whose call is it that you’re groveling so much?”

From behind, Tae-young snatched Yeon-ho’s phone.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Hyo-jun hyung? Is this the guy who told you to bring clothes?”

Tae-young asked after checking the caller ID.

‘Yeon-ho, is something going on over there?’

Hyo-jun’s worried voice spilled from the phone’s speaker, but Yeon-ho was too flustered to respond to it.

“Yes, you lunatic! How incredibly rude, interrupting someone’s call like this! Give me my phone back.”

Yeon-ho snatched the phone from Tae-young’s hand, putting a significant distance between them before bringing the device back to his ear.

“Hyung, I’m sorry. Some strange guy next to me just took my phone… You must have been surprised.”

‘No, it’s fine. You must be out drinking with a friend. Is your friend very drunk?’

“I’m not drinking. I’ll call you back once I’ve sorted things out.”

Too flustered, Yeon-ho ended the call without being able to explain that Tae-young wasn’t his friend.

“What kind of relationship do you have to be so formal? A high school senior? Or a military senior?”

Tae-young, who had somehow sidled back next to Yeon-ho, asked.

“Mind your own business. What good would knowing do you?”

Yeon-ho snapped back, then resumed his search for clothes. His hands rummaged through the garments with increasing urgency. There were so many clothes hanging on the rack, and the pressure of not wanting to keep Hyo-jun waiting compounded his anxiety, leaving him several times more on edge than before the call.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t know?”

“Don’t twist my words. Am I deliberately hiding something?”

Yeon-ho told himself not to engage, yet he found himself replying almost involuntarily.

“If you’re not deliberately hiding it, then not telling me is even stranger.”

“We’re just senior and junior. Satisfied?”

While Cherry Picker wasn’t high school, and it was Yeon-ho, not Hyo-jun, who had joined Cherry Picker first, it wasn’t a lie that they were senior and junior. Yeon-ho moved to the next section of the clothing rack, assuming Tae-young would finally stop pestering him. However, Tae-young, apparently still curious, followed closely behind him.

“Why didn’t you deny that Hyo-jun thought I was your friend?”

“Now you’re eavesdropping on other people’s calls?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping; I just heard it. If you didn’t want others to hear, you should’ve lowered the volume.”

Such a brazen guy. But since Tae-young’s impudence wasn’t a new occurrence, Yeon-ho simply focused on his task.

_Clink, clink._

As he slid the hangers one by one, Tae-young’s hand suddenly intruded.

Tae-young snatched the hanger Yeon-ho was about to grab and asked, “I don’t wear this anymore; should I donate it to a charity event?”

Seeing Tae-young shake the hanger, Yeon-ho felt a surge of heat to his head. If he wasn’t going to help, he could at least not interfere. Feeling as though he might soon want to grab Tae-young by the collar, Yeon-ho decided he needed to step outside and clear his head.

“I’m going out for a bit.”

“To smoke? You can smoke inside the house.”

“Not to smoke. I’m going to buy water. My throat feels like it’s burning up.”

Yeon-ho swallowed the words, ‘Because you’re making my blood boil.’

“Thirsty? Then just ask for water; why go buy it?”

Tae-young tilted his head, then his eyes narrowed into triangles.

“Do I look like someone who wouldn’t offer a guest a glass of water?”

‘Yes.’ How wonderful it would be if he could say, ‘Yes, because even if you offered, you’d make a huge fuss over one glass of water, so I’d rather pay for it myself, why?’

Even as Yeon-ho swallowed his unspoken words, Tae-young grabbed his hand.

“Follow me.”

Yeon-ho was dragged along by Tae-young, utterly bewildered.

“Where are we going? Are you kicking me out?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

Tae-young stopped, an incredulous look on his face, and gestured with his chin towards the hallway on the right.

“That’s the kitchen. Take whatever you want from the fridge.”

After showing Yeon-ho where the kitchen was, Tae-young went upstairs. What was he doing? As the homeowner, shouldn’t he at least say where he’s going when leaving someone alone?

‘Never mind. I’m more comfortable without him here.’

Yeon-ho gazed at the hand Tae-young had grabbed, then headed towards the kitchen.

‘The kitchen has a different vibe, doesn’t it?’

The house’s interior was modern, so Yeon-ho had naturally assumed the kitchen would also feature a restrained design. Unexpectedly, however, the refrigerator was plastered with photos.

‘Are they his own photos?’

Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen any photos of Tae-young hanging anywhere else in the house. It was common for popular celebrities to have large prints of their pictorials or profile photos adorning their walls. Why would he put pictures on the fridge instead of in frames? Puzzled, Yeon-ho approached the refrigerator and tilted his head.

‘They’re not even his own photos. Are they pictures with friends?’

There were very few solo shots of Tae-young; most were group photos. In the pictures, Tae-young, posing playfully for the camera with his friends, looked as youthful as a middle or high school student. Yet, there wasn’t a single photo of him in a school uniform. The peers who appeared to be his friends were diverse in ethnicity, ranging from Caucasian to Black to Hispanic.

‘He must have attended school abroad.’

Yeon-ho had always assumed Tae-young was a domestic product, given how often he sounded like an old-fashioned authoritarian. Learning that he had spent his adolescence abroad was quite a surprise. Apparently, living abroad didn’t automatically make one open-minded.

‘Judging by the photos, he seems to have a good personality.’

The twenty-four-year-old Tae-young was a notoriously finicky and sensitive individual, prone to power trips. However, the teenage Tae-young in the pictures appeared bright and energetic, without any sharp edges. He gave the impression of a social butterfly, the kind who effortlessly made a truckload of friends wherever he went.

Indeed, considering the staff dinner he’d had, his social skills weren’t bad even now. He simply often manipulated people according to his mood.

‘He loved to play. Or rather, he loved sports.’

More than half of Tae-young’s photos were taken while he was engaged in sports: surfing, beach volleyball, basketball, swimming, scuba diving, yachting, horseback riding, skateboarding. Just looking at them was exhausting, yet Tae-young in the photos seemed to have boundless energy even after intense exercise.

‘Does he like the ocean?’

Yeon-ho noticed the unusually high proportion of photos taken by the sea. Could it be that Tae-young always wore sea salt-scented perfume because he loved the ocean? Even before knowing Tae-young might love the sea, Yeon-ho had vaguely thought the sea salt scent suited him well. But seeing him laugh brightly with the sea breeze in his hair, Yeon-ho realized he truly wore a scent that perfectly matched his essence.

‘So, the scar on his side was old.’

With so many shirtless photos, the scar on Tae-young’s side naturally caught his eye. What could have caused such a large injury? Playing around? Or was it an accident?

Yeon-ho suddenly realized that very little was truly known about Tae-young. He wasn’t talking about information like his name, physical measurements, or age. When a celebrity faced controversy, it was common for acquaintances to emerge, gossiping about how ‘he’s always been like this’ or ‘his personality was always like that.’ Yet, despite Tae-young’s numerous minor arrogant slip-ups since his debut, no one had ever come forward claiming, ‘I know him.’

Tae-young never mentioned past anecdotes in interviews. He had never once spoken about where or how he grew up, or why he dreamed of becoming an actor. The scar on his side, for any other celebrity, would have been a news story a hundred times over. But Yeon-ho had never seen an article about it. Perhaps it was because he didn’t follow entertainment news closely.

‘Are these people his family?’

Yeon-ho found a photo taken in front of a Christmas tree. A middle-aged couple, Tae-young, a brother and sister who looked about ten years apart in age from Tae-young, two large dogs, and Tae-young himself were all huddled together, arms around each other’s shoulders.

They appeared to be a harmonious family. A deep sense of trust and affection radiated from beyond the frame. Of course, it was reckless to judge a family based on a single photograph. However, considering Tae-young’s temperament, it was clear this wasn’t an artificially staged picture of harmony. Tae-young was not the type to pretend to be happy when he wasn’t, even if it killed him.

‘Is it because of the age gap? His older sister and brother look like twins, but Han Tae-young doesn’t resemble them at all.’

The person presumed to be his father bore an uncanny resemblance to Tae-young’s older siblings, like peas in a pod. They all had delicate features, reminiscent of Sylvanian Families hamsters. Unlike Tae-young, they were all slender and small-framed. It was a rude thought, but Tae-young’s genes seemed to operate independently, as if he were an adopted child.

Fortunately, his mother shared enough physical characteristics with Tae-young that their mother-son relationship was immediately apparent. Her striking features and tall stature, combined with her light brown hair, made the so-called ‘gyopo makeup’ style look natural on her. Her exotic appearance was such that one would readily believe she was of mixed heritage, if told so.