Golden’s Compulsion

Even though the weekday evening rush hour had passed, the lane connecting Yeonhui-dong to the Donggyo-dong intersection was narrow, and red taillights stretched ahead of us in a long line. It looked like we'd have to wait through at least two or three more light changes before we could make the right turn.

"We're almost there and now we're stuck."

Juhan hyung muttered, sounding bored as he rested an elbow against the window frame. Hyung and I were on our way home after delivering a piece to a client's residence in Yeonhui-dong.

"You could just drop me off here..."

"We're basically there already. Are you in a hurry?"

"No. I'll have to wait for hyung and nuna to finish anyway... I can just walk slowly from here."

"We're headed that way anyway. Are hyung and nuna buying you dinner because you were sick?"

I brushed off the question with an awkward smile and turned my gaze out the window. The days had noticeably grown longer, and the shops were only just beginning to light up their signs. Outside a Korean barbecue restaurant, staff were setting out folding tables and chairs on the sidewalk.

At Phantom, everyone thought I'd been sick. My body had briefly malfunctioned from the shock, but strictly speaking, I hadn't actually been ill. The Director, however, had been firm about it.

The following day, late in the afternoon, he drove me to Manager Han's residence himself and advised me to take two more days off. Although he phrased it as a suggestion, it was practically an order. He said that if I came to work, everyone would just worry about me, and told me to rest until I had fully recovered. I didn't really have the right to refuse.

Yuni nuna and Juhan hyung seemed convinced that I'd gotten sick from overworking myself—helping with gallery duties and then assisting with the Old Future shoot that same day. I tried explaining several times that I'd forced down a hamburger that wouldn't go down properly and probably upset my stomach, but neither of them seemed inclined to believe me.

Whether for that reason or another, I felt strangely embarrassed, wondering if I'd somehow gained a reputation for being frail. In reality, there was nothing wrong with my body.

Well. Maybe that wasn't entirely true.

After my first sexual experience with another person, my body might have changed from before. Each time I revisited that night — lying in his bed, that version of myself I barely recognized — I felt like I understood what it meant to be human less and less.

It was my first time having sex with someone else, so naturally it was also my first time observing my own reactions to it. But even so, the boldness of it fell far outside any range I had ever anticipated. I, who even when masturbating had only ever focused on reaching climax quickly and efficiently, as though dealing with an unavoidable physiological function... to have done that...

I let out a sigh without realizing it and rested my forehead against the window. I felt hyung's gaze flicker over to me, but no question followed.

Even if I harbored feelings or curiosity toward him that strayed slightly outside the ordinary, that was ultimately my own personal matter. Between the two of us, what happened that night was gradually settling into something akin to an act of first aid.

That night, I was far from my right mind due to severe shock, and he had simply taken special measures to help me forget everything and rest — not unlike pricking a finger to relieve indigestion, though the emotional reality was far more complicated. He was disconcertingly his usual self, yet it was precisely that attitude that had allowed me to regain my balance.

Sometimes, lying alone and retracing the events of that day, I would rub my ear as if I could still feel the warmth of his breath against it. That was all that remained — along with the lingering scent, that powerful fragrance that had enveloped my entire body from beginning to end that night.

Perhaps because I was thinking about it, even though I wasn't alone in bed now, my shoulders twitched as if he were whispering in my ear again, asking me to say something obscene. Flustered by the reaction that rose up in the confined space with someone else present, I rubbed my warm ears with my palms. The phone resting on my knee buzzed.

I looked down. An unsaved number. I muted it and turned my gaze back out the window. Our car was still in front of the barbecue restaurant.

"Wasn't that your phone? Aren't you going to answer?"

Hyung pointed toward it with his chin and asked.

"I hardly ever answer numbers I don't have saved."

"Ah... because of the elopement?"

Hyung said playfully, tapping the bottom of the steering wheel lightly with his fist. Then he added,

"More accurately, the elopement plus Seo Yeehyeon?"

"......"

"I didn't mean to sting you. Don't look so down, man."

I knew that wasn't his intention, so I wasn't exactly deflated — but it was true that for the three of us to make it to Seoul as Morae and hyung's elopement, I was the one who had to bow out.

"That still hasn't been resolved? You still have to be careful?"

When I nodded, hyung fiddled with the piercing on his lip and furrowed his brow.

"Most parents would forgive something like this by now. Then again, I'm still in a cold war with my own parents."

He chuckled lightly, touching on his own pain in passing.

"Turns out 'no parent can win against their child' only goes so far."

As the car ahead finally started moving, hyung released the brake and added indifferently.

I agreed with that. Not every parent necessarily put their child above all else. Some parents might find strength in their child's existence in extreme situations — and perhaps most did — but there were also parents in this world who simply couldn't.

I knew that in theory. I had even held the arrogant thought that I might be able to understand my father, even if I couldn't make sense of him. But the reaction my body had shown in the Director's living room told me that had been a complete delusion.

It wasn't the right phrase for this kind of situation, I knew — but my body was honest. That was the reaction my body showed before the phantom of the past, symbolized by that painting. Proof that the past hadn't been sealed away — that it still held dominion over the present.

If just two more cars had cleared the intersection, there would have been a gap to turn right — but we had to wait for the light one more time. This time, we stopped in front of a charming little bakery.

Juhan hyung looked out at the shops and remarked that this neighborhood had lost all its former quietness. His expression was the same as always, but just because he didn't constantly lament his wounds didn't mean he had overcome them. A wound inflicted by one's parents wouldn't simply disappear just because you left home and stopped seeing them.

The light changed again, and after we made the right turn, it was only a short drive to What Happened in Bali. Hyung leaned his upper body over the steering wheel, scrutinizing the old single-story building where the café was, and spoke.

"So this is it. It wasn't even registered on the GPS, so I had no idea where it was."

The owner didn't want the café filled with people who only dropped by to take a few photos for social media, so the owner hadn't listed What Happened in Bali on any search portals either.

"Hyung, if you don't mind, would you like to come in for a bit? I could at least treat you to a drink."

He seemed to consider it, fiddling with the piercing on his lip for a moment and glancing toward the café.

"I'd like to, but... I have plans with the guys from my old band. I'll come by with Baek Yuni next time."

"Please do. I'll treat you to a meal then too. The nasi goreng is delicious."

Since it was a narrow residential alley, he couldn't leave the car parked for long. I thanked him for the ride and got out, and hyung quickly drove off down the alley.

"Seo Yeehyeon!"

I turned around. Morae was standing outside the café, smiling with her hands tucked into the pockets of her apron. It had been almost a week since I'd last seen her.

"Who was that?"

Morae came up beside me and pointed at the retreating car Juhan hyung was riding in. It wasn't his personal car, but one of Phantom's company vehicles used for deliveries and business errands.

"A hyung I work with at the gallery."

"He drove you all the way here? You should've invited him in for a glass of punch."

"I did... but he said he had plans."

"Next time, make sure you come together. He works with you, so I should make a good impression."

Morae bumped my shoulder with hers and grinned.

On the surface, everything seemed peaceful, but as Juhan hyung had said, we were still in a position where we had to keep a low profile. I trusted the Phantom crew, but hearing Morae suggest inviting them to What Happened in Bali without a second thought sent a flicker of anxiety through me. Part of me felt she should have been more cautious.

But I didn't mention any of it. I simply said I understood and followed her inside. The call from the unknown number still lingered in the back of my mind, but I kept that to myself as well.

Nothing would happen. Even if someone tried to dig up my personal information, the sharp-witted Phantom crew would handle it. And the call from that unknown number was probably just someone selling water purifiers, phone plans, or loan products—or simply a wrong number. Like reciting a mantra, I smothered my anxiety with those thoughts.

If I made up my mind and pushed for it, Morae and hyung could leave Seoul soon. I just needed a little more time. Until then, I hoped this fragile peace could withstand the weight of my anxiety.

It was Friday evening, and the café was nearly full. The owner, who had returned from Bali in the meantime, greeted me warmly from the kitchen alongside hyung. A new board had appeared on one of the café's walls, something the owner must have bought in Bali.

It felt like a notice demanding a decision from me, so I pretended not to notice and quietly set my bag down in my usual seat by the counter.

"We're closing at ten tonight, so hang around. The owner brought back a lot of interesting things from Bali. I'll show you later."

Morae, who had just taken an additional order from another table, ruffled my hair before heading behind the bar to make drinks.

Are hyung and nuna buying you dinner because you were sick? Juhan hyung had teased. But I hadn't told Morae or hyung anything about what happened that day, or about the two days I'd missed afterward. Today was both a staff dinner for What Happened in Bali and a welcome-back gathering for the owner's return. Since it was Friday, Morae and hyung had invited me to stop by, see everyone, and eat together. There was no reason to bring up something that would only make them worry, and besides, I still wasn't ready to put the shock of that day into words.

The practice notebook I always used like a sketchbook whenever I came to the café had been replaced with a new one. Seeing it reminded me of the old notebook, which had only a few pages left—and naturally, of the memo about the surfing school written inside. It felt as though another notice had landed with a thump on the desk inside my head.

I shoved the imaginary notice into an imaginary desk drawer and flipped through the new notebook until I found a blank page. As with all doodling, my hand began moving unconsciously, despite having no particular plan for what to draw.

Inside, as always, light, easygoing music played, carried by string instruments and what sounded like a ukulele. Combined with the murmur of customers talking, it created the perfect amount of background noise for concentration.

Without even sketching a guide first, I completed the outline of a face, then added a fully dressed body, complete with a vest, shirt, and trousers. The long ears belonged to a rabbit, but the proportions of the face and body were human.

I was so absorbed in drawing the shirt's ruffles, like swirls of whipped cream on a cake, that I didn't notice the incoming call at first. When my gaze happened to shift, I saw the call screen lit up on the phone resting on the table. Earlier, in the car, I'd switched it to silent mode and forgotten to turn vibration back on.

Fortunately, this time it was a number I recognized. It was Inwu hyung.

The café was a little too noisy for a proper conversation, so I grabbed my phone and stepped out into the alley in front. Leaning against the utility pole beside the entrance, half-hidden behind it, I answered the call.

[Why didn't you answer earlier?]

"Pardon me?"

As soon as the call connected, Inwu hyung got straight to the point.

[My phone battery died and I couldn't find anywhere to charge it. I borrowed someone else's phone to call you, but you weren't answering.]

"Oh..."

So that had been Inwu hyung. Relief washed over me, and I let out a small laugh. Slipping my hands into my jeans pockets, I scuffed the sole of my sneaker against the curb.

[I heard you weren't feeling well. I wanted to see your face once you were feeling better, so I called.]

I had no idea the news had reached Inwu hyung too. All week, ever since my absence, I'd been hearing concern from everyone around me—almost more concern than I deserved.

"The Director told me to rest, so I took a few days off, but it was really just a slight stomach upset. Thank you for worrying about me."

[If that cold-blooded man voluntarily told you to take two whole days off, it wasn't just a slight stomach upset.... You didn't even go to the hospital, did you? I'm a doctor. I'll see you for free, so if you're willing, let me take a look. Where are you? I'll come pick you up.]

Even though I already had plans, I hesitated for a moment.

There was something I'd been curious about for days, but I hadn't had anyone suitable to ask.

I had considered asking Manager Han, but it felt like too abrupt a topic. I'd thought about casually bringing it up with Juhan hyung while we were making deliveries, but he was too perceptive, and I lost my nerve. The Alpha closest to me was Morae, of course, but she rarely talked about her own Alpha tendencies in the first place. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable for no reason.

Inwu hyung was neither too close nor too distant, and I felt his naturally easygoing demeanor might make certain topics easier to bring up. At least, that was my reasoning.

But plans were plans. After thanking him for his concern and declining because I already had somewhere to be, I ended the call with Inwu hyung, who sounded disappointed.

Inwu hyung, who seemed carefree at first glance, was a more complicated person the better I got to know him. Nearly everything he said and did was playful enough that taking him completely at face value could leave you looking foolish later, yet sometimes it felt as though he hid genuine sincerity inside that playfulness. It was difficult to tell where the joke ended and the truth began. In that sense, he was exactly like his artwork.

Because the impression I got from his paintings perfectly matched the impression I got from him as a person, I had, somewhat amusingly, lowered my guard around Inwu hyung compared to when we first met. Even if he hid his sincerity behind a flirtatious tone and casual detachment, he was never the kind of person to deny that sincerity existed and pretend to be something he wasn't.

"What are you drawing? A person? A rabbit?"

When I returned to my seat, Morae was standing there, peering down at my drawing from an angle. I'd become so absorbed in it that it had progressed well beyond what could reasonably be called a doodle. Feeling embarrassed, I quietly pulled the notebook closer and sat down. I'd never been the type to show my drawings to other people. To me, they were something like a diary.

"It's Mr. Rabbit."

"Mr. Rabbit?"

"From Alice in Wonderland."

"Oh... that Mr. Rabbit. His sunglasses are cool."

Morae sat down beside me, stretched out her legs, and hummed along to the music playing overhead. She wasn't looking at the drawing anymore, but I still couldn't concentrate. The truth was, there was another reason the tip of my pen had gone dull.

"Nuna... would it be okay if we ate together another time?"

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong..."

I was surprised by how reluctant I still was to let go of an invitation I'd already turned down, and explaining the situation with Inwu hyung felt awkward too. It made me realize how many things had piled up that I hadn't told Morae since we stopped living together.

"Someone from the gallery?"

"Uh... no. Never mind. Forget it."

"What? Didn't you bring it up because you wanted to go?"

"It's not that I want to go..."

Morae was sensitive to other people's emotions. She responded thoughtfully not only to her own feelings, but to the feelings of those around her. That didn't mean she was impulsive or the kind of person who made major life decisions based solely on whatever emotions she happened to be feeling in the moment.

"Hey. What are you hiding from me?"

"No, really. I didn't bring it up because I wanted to go. I won't go. I don't want to."

"Seo Yeehyeon."

She deliberately draped an arm over my shoulder and leaned her weight into me.

"I'm begging you—please go meet other people. Okay?"

She exaggerated her expression, like someone trying to shake off an annoying stalker.

"I'm so happy that since coming to Seoul, you've been working and actually spending time with people. Is this because of what I said last time about feeling hurt or left out?"

I used to think the same thing. That there was nothing we couldn't say to each other. What could I possibly keep from the two people who already knew my greatest weaknesses?

But that wasn't true.

I hadn't told them that I'd seen my painting at the Director's house. I hadn't told them that seeing it had sent me into a panic, that I'd hyperventilated, and that when I came to, I was asleep in his bed. I didn't want them to worry. And I had no intention of telling anyone about sleeping with the Director.

I wasn't foolish enough to think these changes meant we had never been as close as I'd believed. If anything, it simply meant my life until now had been too simple. In my twenty-two-year-old world, there had been only Morae and hyung. Everyone else had been empty space.

So it wasn't unreasonable that the two of them couldn't bring themselves to leave me behind. They simply weren't capable of being that cruel.

Resting her temple against my shoulder, Morae seemed to sense the complicated expression on my face. She tapped Mr. Rabbit on the notebook.

"I like this one. Can I put it up in our café?"