Visitors

"That happened? Something clicked. That kid is no ordinary kid — they'll be something great no matter what they become."

Inwu hyung set down his beer glass and nodded vigorously with a bright expression.

Not just hyung — everyone seemed to be hearing this story for the first time, because contrary to my intentions, they all stopped eating and focused on me.

"The siblings had such a big age gap, so I thought it was cute. I didn't know there was a story like that behind it. Knowing now, it's even cuter, isn't it?"

Yuni nuna, who had handled that family's payment, also smiled warmly, saying she remembered what kind of family they were.

"It won't help much with your career since it wasn't sold to a famous collector or gallery, but it's a heartwarming story."

He said that while picking up a piece of lamb with his long chopsticks, dipping it into the spicy broth, and swirling it around. Inwu hyung immediately narrowed his eyes.

Noticing the look, he shrugged his shoulders.

"What. What is it? It is a heartwarming story. Who says it isn't?"

"Ah, yes. From a dealer's perspective, compared to an artist like Shushu who secured an exhibition contract with a major Chicago gallery, I'd naturally be the 'not very useful' trash, right?"

"Don't put yourself down unnecessarily when you don't even think that way."

I'd brought it up with the simple thought that Inwu hyung would be happy to hear the story of his piece being sold, but the atmosphere was growing increasingly strange. I put the chopsticks I'd been reaching toward a clam with in my mouth for a moment, glanced back and forth between the two of them, then quietly set them down.

"Why are you two fighting over something trivial again? We were eating so well."

Manager Han stepped in to mediate when she noticed me anxiously gauging their moods, but the back-and-forth continued.

"How do you know what I think or don't think?"

"From the very beginning, the weight you and Shushu place on your work is fundamentally different. You know that precisely, and you only expect results proportional to the effort and passion you invest. You have no intention of putting down your own work compared to Shushu or anyone else, nor do you intend to dive in more seriously. Moderate effort, moderate results — you're satisfied with that, so what's all this?"

He stirred another piece of lamb in the spicy broth to cook, speaking leisurely and without hesitation.

"Hmm. As expected, you can't fool the eyes of someone who makes a living selling paintings."

At Inwu hyung's response — delivered as a half-sincere joke — he shook his head as if giving up, dipped the fully cooked meat in the sauce, and ate it.

If Yuni nuna hadn't told me early on that the two of them were always like Tom and Jerry and I should just leave them be, I might have taken it as a genuine, emotionally charged confrontation — and regretted bringing up the subject.

This was the first Friday after the Hong Kong trip, and we were finally having a late wrap-up dinner to catch up on the work that had piled up in the meantime.

When he told us to reserve wherever we wanted to eat, nuna chose a Chinese restaurant specializing in hot pot and dim sum. I'd tried dim sum in Hong Kong, but this was my first time having hot pot.

As soon as the pot — divided in half between a milky white mushroom broth like bone soup and a fiery red broth resembling the flames of hell — was placed on the table, Inwu hyung had burst through the door of the private room, claiming he'd heard the news from Juhan hyung. From that moment on, I felt uneasy; his mood seemed low for some reason.

"If you're going to Chicago, a joint exhibition in the second half of the year will be difficult, won't it?"

Inwu hyung finally changed the subject as he picked up his chopsticks for the first time. His interest, however, wasn't in the meat or seafood that could fill his stomach, but in the soft, thoroughly cooked cabbage floating in the broth.

"We'll proceed as planned."

This time he put down his chopsticks, wiped the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin, and spoke.

"How? With you and Manager Han both away — is that even possible?"

At Inwu hyung's words, as he fished out a fish ball drifting in the vigorously boiling broth, Juhan hyung and Yuni nuna simultaneously stopped their chopsticks and fixed him with sharp glares.

"Hey, babies, why are you looking at me like that? I'm not looking down on you — it's just that even excellent people like you would be overwhelmed without someone in charge, right? And we've never operated that way before, have we? That's all I'm saying."

Inwu hyung's uncharacteristically earnest defense brought a quiet smile to my face.

"Manager Han will stay behind."

"..."

The room fell silent at his unexpected declaration. The only sounds were the halved hot pot bubbling and the low murmur of noise seeping in from outside the private room.

Everyone's puzzled gazes turned toward Manager Han, but she herself was cheerfully rolling enoki mushrooms in slices of lamb. It seemed the two of them had already talked it through and reached a conclusion.

As if finishing his meal, he took a sip of water, set down his glass, and added:

"I'm going to Chicago with Yuni Baek."

Aaaargh!

With a shriek that was almost a scream, nuna shot up from her seat. The chair teetered precariously, and I quickly grabbed the backrest beside me. Throwing her chopsticks onto the table, nuna practically lunged to hug his shoulder from the adjacent seat, shaking him.

"Really? Director Liu, really, really?"

Even though she was only two years older than me, nuna always felt five or six years my senior — she was so composed, flawless, and sure of herself. Everyone in the room knew that her current outburst was by no means a forced overreaction.

The pure joy she expressed so openly — as if everything else had momentarily vanished from her sight and mind — was infectious enough to move everyone watching. The satisfaction, excitement, and thrill she was feeling, so intense it bordered on euphoria, came through intact.

"Yeah, really. I think Yuni Baek can handle that much now."

He laughed, deliberately shaking his body even more exaggeratedly than the force of her shaking.

"But... will it be okay with just the two of us, without Manager Han?"

Once the initial excitement subsided somewhat and practical concerns began to surface, nuna cautiously glanced over at Manager Han and spoke in a small voice.

"Actually, Manager Han suggested it. You practically commanded this entire art fair and were responsible for the venue — she thought you were ready to take on something bigger."

"......"

Nuna fell silent.

The eyes that had been filled with nothing but pure excitement moments before now held a more complex mixture of emotions.

Joy, gratitude, deep feeling. And then, after all of those passed, a large, solid, ineffable mass came pushing its way in.

Surrounded by people who acknowledged her and supported her forward, perhaps nuna was thinking of her family. Didn't she want to receive this kind of belief and support from them first, more than anyone else? I could only vaguely surmise as much.

"Since you're going as main staff, not support staff, you'll have to accompany Director Liu for every schedule and learn everything from A to Z — it's going to be incredibly demanding. You'll do great, right, Yuni Baek?"

Manager Han spoke, looking up at nuna sitting some distance away across the table. Instead of letting her emotions burst out, nuna composed herself, pulled it all together, and managed a smile.

"Of course. I've been waiting for this moment for three years — I've learned everything just by being around, like the saying goes."

"Who called you that?"

Manager Han widened her eyes and put on a deliberately offended expression. He crossed his arms and nodded in agreement.

"Right, absolutely not. A real village school dog would just be stuffing its face even in a situation like this."

He gestured with his chin toward Juhan, making a joke. As the atmosphere loosened, Juhan hyung — who had been busily working his chopsticks again — dropped three or four pieces of meat into the broth and said flatly:

"What, knowing my place and staying quiet is a problem too? I don't have that kind of ambition in the art world. You know that."

Then he dipped a piece of lamb that still had patches of pink into the sauce and began chewing it contentedly.

"Show a little more drive. I'll recognize your efforts as your skills improve."

"Well... if the Director kneels down and begs because she needs me, I'll think about it."

Although the proposal seemed serious, hyung deliberately brushed it off as a joke with a slightly cocky tone.

"Ah... Chicago in the fall. That sounds nice. Quiet, atmospheric — perfect for a romantic date."

Stretching his arms out long and bracing on the table as if waking from a nap, Inwu hyung murmured enviously toward the empty air.

"You can go whenever you want if you set your mind to it. And we're not going there to play, you know?"

As nuna scolded him and sat back down, Inwu hyung pretended not to hear, turning his head so far that his chin nearly sank into his shoulder to look at me. His characteristic mischievous smile played on his lips.

"Then, during the Chicago business trip... Yeehyeon will be all alone, won't you?"

"..."

"Why would Yeehyeon be alone? Manager Han is here, and so am I."

By now Juhan hyung seemed to have eaten his fill; he was leaning back in his chair, drinking cola. Inwu hyung looked over at him and shook his head.

"Kwon Juhan only pretends to be seasoned and street-smart, but sometimes he's just clueless."

While Inwu hyung and Juhan hyung bickered about who had more dating experience, an employee knocked and entered. The uniformed staff member placed two paper bags of pre-ordered takeout on an empty chair.

Yuni nuna asked for the bill, and as we waited for the employee to return with the corporate card, everyone began preparing to leave the restaurant.

"We're going for a second round — why did we bother with takeout?"

Inwu hyung asked, peering into one of the paper bags.

"Seo Yeehyeon is going to sleep over at his hyung and nuna's tonight. The Director packed that for him."

At Juhan hyung's answer, everyone looked at me and laughed.

It was moments like this when I was reminded that I was Phantom's youngest. I was the stoic maknae with no talent whatsoever for making people laugh with cute expressions or actions, but Yuni nuna, Juhan hyung, and Manager Han would sometimes look at me fondly just because I was younger.

And he was like that too.

Right now he was pretending not to hear Juhan hyung's jokes or the sound of everyone laughing, eyes focused intently on his phone screen as if expecting an important call. But I remembered him asking his former colleagues to look after me, saying I was still too young and needed looking after. I also remembered the smile he gave me when I tried clumsily to console him, when he asked whether I was just trying to cheer him up. That was unmistakably the indulgent smile of an older person toward someone younger.

So in moments like this, I wouldn't let myself get discouraged just because he didn't look at me with that same fond expression he gave the others.

Expecting him to respond to my feelings the way others did would lead nowhere. Steadily suppressing expectations and learning to let go of hope was the best way to keep things from getting any worse. Probably.

"Huh? Then Yeehyeon isn't coming to the second round?"

Even after everyone else had gotten up, Inwu hyung remained seated, grabbing my wrist and shaking it with a mournful expression, the corners of his eyes pulled down.

"Well... we were supposed to meet right after I got back, but I kept being busy and couldn't find the time. So it was a bit..."

"Ah... right. Yeehyeon came back a day late because he was sick again."

Hyung said that with a subtle emphasis, and glanced sidelong at the man sitting across from him. It was probably an overthought, but sometimes hyung seemed like someone who knew things he hadn't been told, which was unsettling.

"Aish, what's this. No fun. After all, you came here because of someone."

With that, Inwu hyung lightly bit the inside of my wrist before releasing it and letting go.

"You were acting all pitiful, saying you were just organizing files at the hospital on a Friday night with no plans, so I called you over. What's the big deal?"

Juhan hyung — who had put his lip piercing back in after eating, having declared he'd have four servings of lamb — pressed down on Inwu hyung's shoulder with his elbow from his seat and threatened him. Inwu hyung shrieked and surrendered.

As Yuni nuna packed her belongings into her bag, I felt his gaze over her shoulder and looked up — but perhaps I'd imagined it; he was simply raising his wrist to check his watch.

Stepping out through the main entrance of the restaurant, located on the second floor of a building that housed a business hotel above, the sound of rain grew much closer. It was still pouring heavily.

Juhan hyung walked right up to the window that covered one wall of the elevator hall, pressed his nose to the glass, and peered outside.

The joy he'd expressed in Hong Kong about escaping the rainy season for a few days had amounted to nothing — Seoul was still deep in the monsoon. The rain that had kept everyone worrying about the humidity in the underground storage and exhibition hall all week was peaking today.

"Inwu hyung and Manager Han will need to call their drivers... Director Liu, you didn't drink, right? Could you drop Yeehyeon-ah off on your way? It's raining so hard."

He had slipped his arms into a deep navy summer jacket and turned toward me at nuna's words.

"No, it's fine. I can take the bus."

I shut my mouth immediately, realizing I'd refused too quickly and too stiffly — but I regretted it, worried I'd come across as oddly self-conscious.

"You have a lot of stuff too. Just ask him for a ride. It's not a big deal — he'd just have to drop you off nearby. Right, Director Liu?"

In the past, he might have shown reluctance at Manager Han's suggestion to give me a ride. Now, it seemed like he'd readily agree to a slight detour to drop me off.

But I wanted to avoid being alone with him in a cramped space like a car interior for the time being. Or rather, it seemed wiser to avoid it.

The elevator, which had been taking its time in the underground parking lot, finally arrived at the second floor. After everyone boarded, he got on last and pressed the close button. He stood beside me near the corner, about one step away, leaning against the handrail.

The proximity in the elevator inevitably brought to mind the elevator at the Hong Kong hotel. I couldn't tell whether he was thinking the same thing, but his gaze, directed down at his feet, appeared completely composed.

The tightness of the arms that had held my waist from behind and the heat of the breath that had poured into my ear were still vivid. It wasn't a good sign.

Yet even while wishing everything would fade, I found myself drifting back through the memories of that day several times a day, almost involuntarily — like someone afraid that even a small detail might get exaggerated or lost.

"Go down to the parking garage and take the Director's car, okay?"

Nuna nudged me with her elbow and whispered.

"Then I'll take a taxi. It's not that far... you really don't need to give me a ride..."

"On a Friday night with rain pouring down like this — do you really think a taxi is going to stop for you?"

Nuna tapped my shoulder, telling me not to say things that showed I didn't understand the situation.

"I'll ride with him. It's not that far — dropping him off is nothing."

He, who had been silently watching nuna and me talk until then, turned to look at me while gripping the handrail behind him. Unable to hold his gaze, I ended up awkwardly looking away first, again.

Since we'd returned to Seoul, I was the only one who had been feeling awkward around him. I'd never been completely at ease with him to begin with, but now that I knew what I wanted from him, the discomfort — which had once felt like a vague impulse accompanied by a slight flutter — had transformed into a dull ache and a sense of constriction.

All this time, it wasn't that I was uncomfortable around him. It was that I wanted him.

Whether it was interest, affection... or desire.

And then, anxious because I sensed I couldn't get what I wanted, I had mistaken that anxiety and the persistent ache in my chest for simple discomfort.

That was my guess, at least. What did I really know, in my current state?

It seemed best to avoid narrowing the distance between us. But the unfamiliar version of me — who hadn't turned him away when he'd climbed onto the bed, even before I'd understood my own feelings — was shattering that resolution with a disheartening ease.

It seemed better not to be alone with him. And yet I wanted to be alone with him.

Looking down at the toe of my worn sneakers, so close they almost brushed his dress shoes, I repeatedly bit and released my lower lip.

"And, I happen to have a few things I'd like to talk about."

I looked up at the slow cadence of his voice. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at Inwu hyung. Following his gaze, I turned to look at hyung without much thought. Hyung was simply smiling at him with an unreadable expression from across the table.