Chapter 56: The Lingering Presence

“Do you hate gay people?”

“Of course I do. Is there anyone who actually likes gay people?”

Han Tae-young scoffed, as if he had just heard the most preposterous thing imaginable.

“Don’t answer so flippantly. Tell me your honest thoughts.”

“I just did answer honestly, didn’t I?”

“That was a huge leap in logic. How could there only be people who hate gay people in the world?”

“Well, fine. The world is full of all sorts of imbeciles, so I suppose there might be some who are favorable towards gay people.”

Han Tae-young shrugged, then paused for a moment before speaking again.

“But I’m not one of them.”

“……”

Seo Yeon-ho’s heart plummeted. Han Tae-young’s gaze, fixed directly on him, was chillingly cold. Just moments before, there hadn’t been a trace of seriousness in his demeanor, yet now he seemed more earnest than when he was acting as Bae Da-ro.

“I wish those bastards would all just vanish from my sight.”

Han Tae-young’s voice held a hatred that transcended mere dislike. It wasn’t the voice of someone who had simply been swayed by others to despise gay people.

‘I thought I could just talk him into it?’

Seo Yeon-ho let out a self-deprecating laugh at his own arrogance. He felt utterly miserable, like an idiot who had tried to confess under the influence of alcohol but couldn’t even utter the words.

What confidence had possessed him earlier, making him act as if he had Han Tae-young completely figured out? It was absurd that he had tried to play the part of a real manager just because Han Tae-young had treated him like one.

There was nothing uglier than someone who didn’t know their place, and he had gotten carried away, crossing a line. Seo Yeon-ho resolved to give Han Tae-young what he wanted quickly, freeing himself from this damned contract.

“Here, take it.”

“How many times have I told you, gay… no, Mr. Doze doesn’t smoke.”

Han Tae-young sounded irritated. However, he soon recognized the cigarette pack Seo Yeon-ho held out as his preferred brand and raised an eyebrow.

“Is this yours?”

Han Tae-young took the pack, opened the lid, and checked inside. More than half the cigarettes remained.

“I told you. I have cigarettes.”

Han Tae-young, resting an elbow on the console box, leaned further towards Seo Yeon-ho. His upper body was almost entirely over the driver’s seat. Seo Yeon-ho held his breath, pressing himself against the door. Han Tae-young either didn’t notice Seo Yeon-ho’s discomfort or simply didn’t care, smiling brightly.

“Did you switch to my brand? You said it was too strong to smoke, but I guess you’ve adapted.”

“I didn’t switch. The brand I usually smoke was sold out, so I just picked this one.”

Seo Yeon-ho pushed away Han Tae-young’s hand, which was playfully poking his cheek.

“I’m leaving.”

Seo Yeon-ho abruptly got out of the car.

“Where are you going?”

Han Tae-young tried to grab Seo Yeon-ho’s clothes, but he narrowly missed.

“Where else? I’m going home. Now that I have cigarettes, there’s no reason to go to the convenience store.”

Han Tae-young’s face registered surprise, and he hastily added,

“No! There’s more I need to buy than just cigarettes.”

Han Tae-young seemed flustered. A desperate conviction that he couldn’t let Seo Yeon-ho leave like this was evident in his eyes. He looked almost like a child trying to hold onto a friend who was about to go home from playing.

‘But why? Why does he want to hold me back? There must be a reason he wants to stay with me.’

Seo Yeon-ho barely managed to suppress the flood of questions. He couldn’t quite understand why he even wanted to ask them. To calm his confused emotions, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before asking,

“What do you want to buy?”

“……I don’t know.”

Han Tae-young stalled. Seo Yeon-ho’s mind was too muddled to discern if Han Tae-young was agonizing over what to say to make it sound natural, or if he was embarrassed to mention the items he needed.

“Alcohol and condoms?”

Upon hearing Han Tae-young’s answer, Seo Yeon-ho’s mind went cold. His stomach churned as he considered why those things would be necessary.

“I’m off work. The contract is over, so don’t look for me anymore.”

Seo Yeon-ho slammed the door shut with a harsh finality.

“Seo Yeon-ho! You’re violating the contract! Why are you so arbitrary? You only leave work when your employer tells you to! Hey!”

Han Tae-young opened the car door and shouted after him. Seo Yeon-ho didn’t look back. His fingernails dug into the palm of his clenched fist. Imagining he heard Han Tae-young giving chase, Seo Yeon-ho sprinted up the parking garage ramp.

Reaching the barrier, Seo Yeon-ho glanced back to see if Han Tae-young was catching up. However, contrary to his expectation that Han Tae-young would still be pursuing him, no sound emanated from below the curving ramp.

‘Did he give up?’

Seo Yeon-ho tried to pinpoint when Han Tae-young’s presence had ceased. He couldn’t recall. Perhaps Han Tae-young had never even chased him to begin with.

‘I just wasted my energy for nothing.’

A wave of exhaustion washed over him at the thought of having been mistaken yet again.

****

Seo Yeon-ho took a deep breath and exited the Elysium premises. Though it was the city, the late hour meant that light was scarce, save for streetlights and a few convenience stores. Even the towering Elysium, resembling a Babel Tower, had most of its lights off, save for one or two apartments.

*Tear.*

Walking along the deserted street, Seo Yeon-ho peeled off the tape covering his tattoo. He had pulled it off so roughly that his skin stung as if it had been burned.

Seo Yeon-ho was checking the date on a bill tacked to his whiteboard when he tilted his head. The position of his family photo seemed to have shifted.

‘Is it my imagination?’

No, it wasn’t his imagination. A corner of the photo was now obscuring the bill.

On the day he had affixed the family photo to the whiteboard, Seo Yeon-ho had meticulously chosen its spot, ensuring it wouldn’t be covered or touched by other items. The fact that the bill was now obscured by the photo could only mean one thing: someone had moved it.

Seo Yeon-ho hadn’t touched the photo. And recently, only one other person had entered Seo Yeon-ho’s home.

Seo Yeon-ho uttered the name of the instantly narrowed-down suspect.

“Han Tae-young……”

The feeling was as uncomfortable as biting into an eggshell while eating.

Since the last day he saw Han Tae-young, Seo Yeon-ho had been treating him as if he didn’t exist in the world. He deleted his video viewing history, blocked accounts that shared entertainment news, and erased Han Tae-young’s number.

He even deleted all the messages they had exchanged.

Ironically, despite all these measures, there had been no contact from Han Tae-young for several days.

“Good. Perfect. I hope he never contacts me again!”

Seo Yeon-ho muttered loudly to himself, though there was no one to hear him, and then took down the photo. He wanted to check if Han Tae-young had scratched it.

As Seo Yeon-ho carefully examined the photo, he unconsciously bit his lip. The image of Han Tae-young, spouting insults like ‘I wish all gay people would just disappear,’ suddenly flashed through his mind.

‘That thoughtless, rude bastard. How dare he touch someone else’s family photo without permission.’

Fortunately, there was no damage. Yet, Seo Yeon-ho felt no guilt for cursing Han Tae-young. It was only natural for someone who had touched a family photo without the owner’s permission to be cursed.

Come to think of it, it had been a long time since he had looked at the family photo so closely. Typically, a family photo would bring to mind a picture taken professionally at a studio, but Seo Yeon-ho’s family photo was a Polaroid.

Seo Yeon-ho would have preferred to hang a proper studio-shot family photo on the wall. However, due to their family circumstances, this was the only picture that included his younger sibling and both parents.

The reason the family photo was a Polaroid was that it had been taken on the set of *Ping Pong Star*. He couldn’t recall the exact circumstances that led his father to bring Chae-young to the set. All Seo Yeon-ho remembered was that he had hated taking the picture while wearing an alien prince costume.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that Han Tae-young might not have been the one to touch the photo. Han Tae-young was a twisted individual who openly declared his dislike for gay people. If he had seen a young Seo Yeon-ho in a full-body costume and wig, he surely would have burst into laughter.

‘He definitely would have mocked me. There’s no way he would have pretended not to see it.’

Someone who had never seen the photo wouldn’t have touched it. But if Han Tae-young wasn’t the culprit, then who was? Could the photo have moved on its own, without anyone touching it?

“Hmm.”

It wasn’t entirely impossible to imagine the wall’s vibrations or a draft moving the photo. At the very least, it seemed more likely than Han Tae-young seeing the photo and not making a snide remark.

Seo Yeon-ho suddenly wondered if Han Tae-young knew about *Ping Pong Star*. He might have heard the name, but he probably hadn’t watched it. Given Han Tae-young’s temperament, he wasn’t the type to accidentally watch a children’s drama.

And regardless of Han Tae-young’s preferences, *Ping Pong Star* was a program aimed at elementary school children. Its main viewership was younger than Seo Yeon-ho, who was in it, so it was highly unlikely that Han Tae-young, who was the same age as Seo Yeon-ho, would have watched it. Even the classmates who had ostracized Seo Yeon-ho for being a child actor weren’t viewers of *Ping Pong Star*.

‘Whether that bastard knows about *Ping Pong Star* or not……’

Seo Yeon-ho tried to banish Han Tae-young and *Ping Pong Star* from his mind. Thinking about Han Tae-young always put him in a bad mood. It wasn’t just unpleasant; his emotions were on a rollercoaster. He would feel a sense of gloom, as if his album had flopped, then a moment later, he’d feel annoyed, like when he read malicious comments. This cycle of sadness and irritation repeated itself endlessly. Sometimes, he even felt a complex mix of emotions, like when he discovered a fan had switched to another group.

‘Annoying.’

Regardless of his animosity towards Han Tae-young, Seo Yeon-ho disliked and felt uncomfortable with his fluctuating emotions. He didn’t want to think about Han Tae-young, but his brain, like a disobedient child, kept bringing Han Tae-young into his thoughts.

Absurdly, the phrase ‘brought into his thoughts’ reminded him of the time he had helped Han Tae-young into the villa.

The villa staircase, perpetually devoid of light, always smelled of damp mildew. Yet, on that particular day, Seo Yeon-ho hadn’t noticed the moldy scent as they ascended the stairs. Han Tae-young’s hot breath had tickled Seo Yeon-ho’s neck.

Han Tae-young’s breath carried a strong scent of alcohol. But strangely, Seo Yeon-ho didn’t find the smell repulsive.

“This is driving me crazy.”

Seo Yeon-ho squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the back of his neck with both hands. He had just thought about not thinking of Han Tae-young, and yet, there he was again. It was as if he was someone who thought about Han Tae-young at every opportunity. No matter what he saw or thought about, he always ended up thinking of Han Tae-young, making it easy for others to misunderstand.

‘Misunderstand what?’

Seo Yeon-ho opened his eyes with a resolute expression. This was just like the after-effects of watching a horror movie. Everyone, at some point in their lives, experiences a boring horror movie that sticks in their mind.

The more terrifying the visual of a horror movie’s evil spirit, the longer it lingers in the audience’s mind. The principle of Han Tae-young’s unauthorized occupation of his mind was similar. He kept thinking about him not because he cared, but because he found him utterly repulsive.