"Where were you?"
Jaewon's voice sounded casual, almost lazy, but something underneath it felt sharp. Too sharp. He stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Taesan like he had been waiting there for a while.
Taesan paused mid-step.
"Out," he replied, slipping off his shoes. "With some friends."
The lie came out smoother than he expected. Still, he kept his gaze lowered, pretending to focus on lining up his sneakers neatly by the wall.
"With friends," Jaewon repeated.
He pushed himself off the wall and walked closer, slow and unhurried. Each step echoed softly in the quiet hallway.
"That's new," he added. "You never said you had plans tonight."
"I didn't, really," Taesan said quickly. "It just happened. They asked, so I went. Nothing special."
"Nothing special, huh?"
Jaewon stopped right in front of him. Too close.
Taesan could feel his stare crawling over his face, searching, measuring. It made his skin prickle.
"You've been going out a lot these days," Jaewon continued, voice light but edged with something sour. "Getting popular without me?"
Taesan forced a small laugh. "It's not like that. You're busy too."
"Busy?" Jaewon tilted his head. "I always make time for you, though."
The words sounded sweet. The meaning didn't.
Taesan swallowed. "I know. I just didn't think it was a big deal."
Silence stretched between them.
Jaewon's eyes narrowed slightly, studying him like a puzzle piece that no longer fit where it used to. Then his gaze drifted lower.
To Taesan's neck.
Faint red marks peeked out above his collar.
Jaewon's jaw tightened.
For a second, something dark flickered across his face. Possessiveness. Irritation. Something ugly and raw that he quickly swallowed down.
"So," he said quietly, "these friends. Anyone I know?"
"No," Taesan answered.
Too fast.
Jaewon smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're getting secretive, hyung. Makes me curious."
"There's nothing to hide," Taesan said, a hint of defensiveness slipping through. "I'm just living my life. That's all."
"Living your life," Jaewon echoed softly.
His fingers curled into his palms.
The image wouldn't leave his head. Taesan laughing with someone else. Standing too close to someone else. Letting someone else touch him.
It irritated him more than it should have.
Still, when he spoke again, his voice turned gentle.
"Hyung, you must be tired," he said. "It's late. You should rest."
The sudden change caught Taesan off guard.
"… Yeah," he murmured. "Maybe I am."
"Go sleep," Jaewon added with a faint smile. "Don't overthink things."
Taesan nodded and retreated to his room. The door shut with a soft click. The sound felt heavier than usual.
Inside, he sat down on the edge of the bed and covered his face with both hands.
Everything felt tangled.
Jaewon's strange mood. The tension in the hallway. The way his questions felt less like concern and more like interrogation.
And yet, another memory pushed through. Warm hands. Soft whispers.
Joshua's quiet laugh close to his ear.
The memory settled gently against his skin, steady and reassuring.
His chest loosened.
A small, unguarded smile appeared. For the first time in a long while, being with someone had felt safe. Wanted. Cherished. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, that warmth still lingering like a secret he wanted to protect.
But then suddenly, Jaewon's face surfaces in his mind. The feeling is foreign and unwelcome—an uncomfortable mix of guilt and resentment. Why should he feel guilty? Jaewon had betrayed him, fracturing their bond of friendship with his lies and deceit. A part of Taesan feels vindicated, yet another part can't help but feel conflicted.
He shakes his head, chasing away the unease that threatens to settle in his chest. There's no time for this—not when there's work to be done. Taesan focuses on his task, reminding himself of the goal ahead: booking the mansion and finalizing the site registrations. Everything is in motion now, fueled by one driving purpose.
REVENGE.
And this time, Jaewon won't see it coming.
Meanwhile, Jaewon sits alone in his room, his mind caught by the unsettling thought of what his Hyung and that rich Joshua guy might have done together. A peculiar jealousy stirs within him, its origins unclear, yet impossible to ignore.
Something deep inside rises at the idea of Taesan being with someone else.
Questions popped up in his thoughts like relentless whispers. How had Taesan managed to cross paths with such a wealthy and high-class man? Where did he find the means to afford those extravagant, tailored suits that spoke of opulence? Was Joshua funding him? Showering him with money so freely? A darker notion crept in, insidious and unwelcome: Could Taesan be involved in something illegal—prostitution, drugs?
***
The next morning arrived quieter than usual.
Taesan left the house early, moving with careful, practiced steps so the floorboards would not creak. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his bag, and stepped outside without a word. No message. No explanation. There was no point. Jaewon's questions had always come too fast, too sharp, digging into places that did not need digging. It was easier to leave before they could start.
The door closed with a soft click.
Inside the living room, Jaewon stared at the empty hallway.
A strange unease settled in his chest. It was faint but persistent, like an itch he could not scratch. Something about Taesan had changed recently. The late nights. The quiet phone calls. The way he had started coming home dressed too well for someone who claimed to live simply. It did not add up.
Today, Jaewon decided he would stop guessing.
He walked straight to Taesan's bedroom.
The door opened with a low creak. The room looked exactly the same as always. Clean. Plain. Almost boring. The bed was made neatly, corners tucked with care. Books stacked by size. Curtains drawn halfway to let in the morning light.
Too normal.
Jaewon began with the drawers, pulling them open one by one. His fingers moved through neatly folded clothes, soft cotton shirts, worn hoodies, old jeans. Everything modest. Everything ordinary. The kind of wardrobe Taesan had always had.
Nothing like the tailored coats and sharp suits Jaewon had glimpsed the night before.
No brands. No luxury. No proof.
His jaw tightened.
He moved to the closet next, pushing hangers aside. The same result. Plain fabrics. Neutral colors. Nothing expensive enough to explain anything.
"Where the hell are you hiding it…" he muttered under his breath.
He stepped over to the desk and yanked open the drawers harder this time. Papers rustled. Old bills. Convenience store receipts. Study notes scribbled in messy handwriting. Random stationery. Useless.
He flipped through everything anyway, hoping something would fall out. Nothing did.
Frustration slowly crawled up his spine.
This did not make sense.
Taesan barely spent money, yet somehow he carried himself like someone who had stepped into a different world overnight. The quiet confidence. The late returns. The faint scent of expensive cologne that did not belong to a part time job salary.
Jaewon moved to the bed and lifted the mattress, expecting an envelope of cash or hidden documents.
Only dust and empty space.
He let the mattress drop with a dull thud.
Annoyance flickered across his face as he stood in the middle of the room, scanning everything again, slower this time. His eyes traveled across the shelves, the desk, the corners, searching for anything out of place.
Where was the money coming from?
And why was Taesan hiding it so carefully?
Just as he turned to leave, something small caught the light.
Behind a stack of books sat a flash drive, barely visible unless someone was really looking.
Jaewon paused.
Then he reached for it.
The metal felt cool against his fingers.
His pulse quickened, just slightly.
He stared at it for a moment before slipping it quietly into his pocket.
If Taesan was keeping secrets, this had to be one of them.
——————— TO BE CONTINUED