Chapter 25: Crappy Mood, Crappy Vest

The red ember ignited the cigarette Seo Yeon-ho held between his lips. He clenched his fist, feeling the hot smoke course into his mouth. Why did Han Tae-young’s perfume smell stronger than the cigarette? It felt as if he were inhaling Tae-young’s very breath, not just smoke. Seo Yeon-ho’s eyes darted, scrutinizing Tae-young’s face. ‘Had he removed all his makeup?’ His bare face seemed impossibly smooth, making it hard to believe he wore no makeup at all. Yeon-ho’s gaze drifted from the fine down on Tae-young’s face to his eyebrows. Perhaps it was due to his T-zone, which was as pronounced as a foreigner’s, but the shadows cast across his face were remarkably deep and defined. It felt almost like a deliberate mise-en-scène crafted by a director.

“How long are you going to keep staring with that gaping mouth?”

Only after hearing Tae-young’s low growl did Yeon-ho snap back to reality.

“Ah, it’s lit.”

Mumbling a clumsy excuse, Yeon-ho quickly turned his body sideways.

‘Had I been too obvious in my staring?’

His heart hammered, and a flush crept up his face. Fortunately, he could blame the redness on the alcohol.

However, the trembling of his hands couldn’t be explained away by alcohol alone. Before Tae-young could notice, Yeon-ho lowered the hand clutching the cigarette beneath the table.

Finding it strange that Yeon-ho wasn’t smoking, Tae-young inquired.

“Is the cigarette strong?”

Yeon-ho had assumed Tae-young was annoyed by his earlier staring, but thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Yeah, a bit. It’s too strong for me.”

Yeon-ho nodded repeatedly. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

His head felt light, just as it had when he first started smoking. Yet, he couldn’t discern if this sensation stemmed from the cigarette’s potency or some other underlying cause.

For now, he decided to let Tae-young’s assumption stand.

“There shouldn’t be much difference in nicotine from what you usually smoke, should there?”

When had he noticed that? Was he observant, or simply sly? Or perhaps both?

Contrary to his seemingly straightforward demeanor, Tae-young possessed a subtly cunning side.

Yeon-ho spoke in a playful tone. “You’re creepy. Were you watching me this whole time?”

“I saw you because you were visible; nobody was ‘watching’ you.” Tae-young retorted, bristling.

“If it bothers you, then don’t smoke it.”

“You know taking something back after giving it is the pettiest, most pathetic thing, right?”

Fearing Tae-young might snatch the cigarette, Yeon-ho quickly put it back in his mouth.

“If it doesn’t suit you, why bother smoking it?”

Tae-young offered a piece of advice, tinged with a slight rebuke.

“It’s a long one. It’d be a waste.”

“Do as you please.”

Tae-young cast a look of exasperated disdain at Yeon-ho, then crossed his legs in the opposite direction.

A successful celebrity like him would probably never understand the frustration or melancholy caused by something as trivial as a single long cigarette.

Yeon-ho also turned his head outwards and inhaled deeply. *Hiss*, the paper and tobacco leaves burned, emitting a potent chocolate scent.

He felt Tae-young’s lingering perfume scent at the tip of his nose being overlaid by the chocolate aroma. The dizziness he had felt with the first puff was now gone.

Silence once again settled over the parasol table. Yeon-ho idly tapped the remaining cigarette on the table before posing a question to Tae-young.

“Did something crappy happen to you too?”

“Me?”

Yeon-ho felt Tae-young turn his head to look at him. The expression on his face, as if to say, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’, made Yeon-ho wonder if he had misjudged the situation.

“You asked me earlier if something fucked up happened to me. Usually, people who ask questions like that have experienced something fucked up themselves.”

“Not me… Well, yeah. Something did.”

Tae-young blinked as if he were lying, then adjusted his posture.

“So, did something shitty happen, or not?”

“Of course something did. Try to understand when I give you a hint.”

“Then speak properly. You’re the one who said it weirdly.”

“That’s…”

Tae-young started to say something, then took a drag from his cigarette. He only spoke again after quickly exhaling a mouthful of smoke.

“Anyway, you’re right. I stopped to buy cigarettes because I was in a bad mood.”

So he was right.

Yeon-ho debated whether he should be pleased that his guess was accurate. While he disliked Tae-young, he didn’t wish him perpetual misfortune.

Furthermore, if Tae-young was going through a tough time, it was likely due to the hospital rumors that had recently surfaced. Yeon-ho wasn’t so morally bankrupt as to revel in someone being tormented by trashy reporters and malicious commenters.

Come to think of it, the current situation looked like prime fodder for a reporter.

“Can you really smoke so openly on the street like this?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Won’t it be a problem if someone takes a picture of you smoking on the street?”

Yeon-ho immediately imagined posts appearing on online communities or anonymous forums under headlines like ‘Unlikable Behavior by a Certain Popular Celebrity.’ Tae-young, however, seemed utterly oblivious to the gravity of the situation, merely tilting his head from side to side with a supremely nonchalant expression.

“I’ve already smoked it all, and now you ask? Unless you’re secretly taking my picture and uploading it, don’t bother worrying.”

“Hey, what kind of person do you take me for?”

As Yeon-ho expressed his displeasure, Tae-young suddenly looked at him as if something had just occurred to him.

“If photos are taken, why do I get all the blame? You smoked with me too. Shouldn’t we share the criticism?”

Good grief. Yeon-ho was dumbfounded. Tae-young hadn’t been a celebrity for just a year or two, so why was he acting so utterly clueless?

“Are you and I the same? I’m an ordinary person, but you’re not.”

“Ordinary person?”

Tae-young raised an eyebrow, as if unable to agree.

“Yes, an ordinary person. What else would a rider be if not ordinary?”

Suddenly, he recalled his previous profession and the fact that he was currently working as a fitting model. His former job was literally in the past, and modeling was just a part-time gig.

Consequently, he hadn’t consciously registered that he was, in his own way, in the public eye.

If his face appeared online, would anyone recognize him? He couldn’t afford to be complacent, even as the leader of a ‘failed idol group’ with no real presence.

While no one recognized him when he lived an ordinary life, it was the way of the world that people would magically appear to recognize him if he caused trouble or scandal.

The retired idol, Seo Yeon-ho, didn’t care if he received criticism. If he avoided the internet, whatever people said about him wouldn’t matter.

However, he was afraid of causing damage to Bang Hyo-jun’s shopping mall. It would be quite distressing if the mall received backlash simply for using Yeon-ho as a model.

“Why the serious face? Did you realize you might get flak too?”

“Yeah.”

Yeon-ho nodded with a solemn expression, then reached out to Tae-young’s suit. Tae-young recoiled in alarm.

“What are you doing?!”

“Take it off for a moment.”

“Why!”

“It’s too conspicuous. You’re dressed like you’re advertising, ‘I’m a celebrity!'”

Yeon-ho tried to remove Tae-young’s clothes, but Tae-young defended himself desperately.

“What’s the problem with that?”

“What’s the problem? The chances of getting photographed or having eyewitness accounts surface will increase.”

Perhaps finding Yeon-ho’s words persuasive, Tae-young ceased his resistance.

“If you’re going to walk around looking so flashy, at least wear sunglasses when you get out of the car.”

“What am I supposed to do? I just came from work. And who wears sunglasses in the middle of the night? That’s even crazier and stranger.”

Despite his annoyance, Tae-young nevertheless removed his suit jacket as Yeon-ho instructed.

“Hmm.”

Even though Tae-young was now only in his shirt, the furrow in Yeon-ho’s brow remained. It seemed a little better than before, but Tae-young was still undeniably noticeable.

Yeon-ho was certain that even if Tae-young drove through an alley, people would immediately recognize he wasn’t an ordinary office worker.

“Mess up your hair too. It’s styled too severely; it looks out of place.”

“Why are you so demanding?”

A vein throbbed on Tae-young’s forehead, as if he were reaching the limits of his patience. Yet, once again, he only protested verbally before ultimately following Yeon-ho’s instructions.

“Is that enough? Satisfied?”

Tae-young, having ruffled his own hair with his large hands, glared at Yeon-ho.

“Damn it, my hands are sticky with wax.”

Tae-young grimaced, shaking his hands. Yeon-ho pulled out a wet wipe from his pocket and offered it to Tae-young, speaking.

“Still not enough.”

“You really have a knack for driving people crazy.”

Tae-young snatched the wet wipe Yeon-ho offered, as if extorting it, and scrubbed his hands vigorously.

“Give me that.”

“What?”

Yeon-ho tilted his head, seeing Tae-young point at his own chest. As he fumbled at his chest, wondering what was in his vest pocket, Tae-young impatiently tugged at the armhole of the vest.

“This, I mean, this.”

“The vest?”

“Yes, the vest.”

“Why?”

“To wear it! You said I needed to look ordinary.”

Tae-young growled, his expression implying, ‘What other reason could there be?’

Thinking it wasn’t a bad idea, Yeon-ho silently took off his vest and handed it to Tae-young.

However, a doubt crept into his mind: would it even fit? Yeon-ho’s vest was a standard adult men’s size L, but Tae-young, at a glance, seemed like someone who would need at least a 3XL.

“Damn it, it won’t button.”

Sure enough, Yeon-ho’s fears materialized. Tae-young gnashed his teeth as he looked down at the vest, which refused to close no matter how hard he pulled.

“Why is this so small?”

Watching Tae-young complain, Yeon-ho bit his lip. The vest not buttoning wasn’t even the real issue.

The true problem was that the vest looked more like a chest bib on him.

Yeon-ho tried to hold back his laughter. But as Tae-young flapped the vest like wings, the composure on Yeon-ho’s face finally broke.

“Pfft.”

“Are you laughing? Hey, why are you laughing?”

Tae-young bristled, grabbing Yeon-ho’s shoulder and shaking him. He still didn’t know what the problem was, but Yeon-ho’s laughter itself seemed to displease and annoy him.

“Hic, *cough*. Heh-heh.”

Yeon-ho’s body swayed from side to side as if he were on a ride, but he couldn’t stop laughing.

As Yeon-ho kept hiccuping with his head turned away, Tae-young gritted his teeth and pulled out his phone. He seemed to intend to check his appearance using the selfie camera.