Change

"So then he rejected them all again!"

Yuni nuna spread her arms wide, her voice rising with an aggrieved expression.

The complaint was about the final interviews for the new hire Phantom was recruiting. Among the candidates she and Juhan had carefully shortlisted through a week of interviews, the Director had eliminated every single one at the final round — and nuna was far from pleased.

"Right now it's peak season with graduating seniors job-hunting, so there are plenty of applicants, but if this keeps up, forget a vacation — we'll be doing overtime every day through August without a single day off before Chicago! Is it really that easy to find someone you instantly click with? Why is our Director so incredibly picky?"

Sitting next to me in the backseat, nuna leaned over and hugged the back of Juhan's seat in the front, pulling a face like she might cry.

"It's because I suddenly quit..."

"That's not your fault, so don't go thinking such things."

Before my apology could go on any longer, nuna raised her index finger and firmly silenced me.

Yuni nuna, Juhan hyung, and I were on our way back from shopping together at a large supermarket.

After Yeehan hyung and Morae nuna left last Sunday, I stopped going to Phantom the very next Monday. And I moved my things into the basement of his house.

The Plan A he'd mentioned was the basement of his own home.

Though technically underground, the space was more than half exposed above ground — the first floor was reached by a flight of stairs and sat a story and a half up. There were large, plentiful windows, so there was plenty of natural light, and ventilation wasn't an issue either. It was comfortable and completely free of the dampness and mustiness typical of basements.

Just as he had explained, the previous homeowner had renovated it cleanly into a studio apartment for his son who had been studying abroad, so there was nothing inconvenient about staying there. The floors and walls were tidy, and it even had a kitchen and bathroom.

If I absolutely had to choose between Plan A and Plan B, my answer — without a second thought — was A.

Even that space was luxurious enough for me, but he had paced the epoxy floor with his hands in his pockets, expression reluctant, repeatedly urging me to reconsider the villa one more time.

Though the move itself was modest — a single backpack and a couple of shopping bags — today was a gathering he had proposed, something like a housewarming.

"It's not like he's picking a lover, so what's all this about feelings? When you first came to help, he gave us a bit of trouble, but then he told us to do as we pleased... Ah, matchmaking would honestly be easier than this."

Listening to nuna's perfectly justified complaints, I thought that the indifference he'd initially shown me might actually have been on the friendlier side. I could see now that if he had truly disliked me in the end, he never would have hired someone with such a complicated background.

"In the end, the ones who have to actually work face-to-face with the new hire are Kwon Juhan and me! Whoever has the interview scheduled for Monday, I'm pushing them through no matter what."

While nuna was steeling her resolve, the car was pulling into the parking lot of his building.

We convinced the driver not to help with the bags, and each took two grocery bags from the trunk.

His and Manager Han's shared opinion was that I should use the driver's car whenever I needed to go out for the time being. Since I wasn't commuting, there were rarely reasons to leave the house, but the driver was always waiting in a separate guard post in the parking lot until he returned home. Though I couldn't insist on my own discomfort while receiving such care and consideration, it was undeniably awkward and burdensome.

"That driver — he's doubling as a bodyguard, isn't he? Is... your nuna's father really that frightening of a person?"

As we walked down the corridor connected to the studio, nuna asked in a low voice, even though the door had already closed behind us.

If she was asking whether Mr. Lim was capable of dragging me out of my current life to track down the whereabouts of Morae nuna and Yeehan hyung — then yes, Mr. Lim was indeed that frightening.

Even if life here was making me lose my sense of balance, difficult to feel stable in — it was nothing compared to being hauled back to the village by Mr. Lim and interrogated about Morae nuna and Yeehan hyung's whereabouts. I didn't want to be the kind of useless supporting character from a Hollywood cartoon who only complained about morality while being incapable of solving anything, burdening everyone around them.

"Did nuna and hyung arrive safely at their destination?"

Juhan, who had reached the door to the studio first, turned back to ask. I shook my head.

"They're still on their way. I got an email yesterday saying they'd reached Kolkata."

Morae nuna and Yeehan hyung were communicating through the email account he had set up for them. The two had entered Eastern Europe via Minsk, the capital of Belarus, planned to travel through several Eastern European countries before crossing Russia, then traverse Mongolia and China to reach India — from where they intended to alternate between land, air, and sea routes to make their way to Bali. It was a route he had planned and prepared in less than a single day.

"They'll arrive safely. It's the Director's plan, after all."

Nuna, her hands full with grocery bags, tilted her head and lightly bumped her temple against mine as she spoke. Understanding her intention to comfort me, I nodded back.

"Hurry up and open the door. These bags are killing me."

At Juhan's exaggerated complaint, I pressed the password and unlocked the door.

Midway down the corridor connected from the parking lot was the door to the studio; past that door, turning right, was another door that opened out to the garden.

Since I had arrived, he had been using the parking lot via the door from the garden, though there were also internal stairs inside the studio connecting up to the first floor. When he invited me to eat with him, I would go upstairs through those stairs.

Actually... over the past week, from Monday when I moved in through yesterday, Friday, there had been two instances of physical contact between us.

Once after a meal of takeout sushi he brought back from outside, and another time after a meal of oil pasta he had made — we talked for a while, and ended up kissing and touching each other.

But neither time went as far as penetration. We only brought each other off with our hands, and once, standing pressed together, I rubbed between his thighs.

"Wow... what kind of basement is this? In college neighborhoods you've got places on the second or third floor that are pitch black because they're crammed right up against the next building! This is a luxury version!"

An excited Juhan set his bags down on the floor and began looking around the studio. His reaction was wildly different from mine when the Director had first shown me the place.

"Being open like a studio makes it feel even bigger. This side is the workspace... and that side is the bedroom, right?"

Yuni nuna, who had set her bags neatly beside the ones Juhan had carelessly dropped in the middle of the floor, pointed toward the bed barely visible beyond a corner as she spoke. Juhan was already rushing over to test the mattress.

The central space near the door where nuna and I stood had almost nothing in it except for art tools. Looking curiously at the canvases lined up upside-down beneath the window, nuna asked,

"Nothing finished yet?"

"If you're not comfortable with it, you don't have to show anything. We may be gallery staff, but we know how to respect an artist's wishes."

Juhan, who had wandered back over at some point, crouched down in front of his bags, peeled a banana, and joined the conversation.

"It's not that... I've been away from it for so long, I'm just warming up my hands for now..."

Using the tools and materials he had prepared only for sketching felt almost wasteful, and I had only started touching oil paint two days ago. But my working hours were increasing rapidly. I spent almost all my time painting from when he left for work until he returned, and it hadn't been the painful experience I had feared.

That was because I was only moving my hands to draw objects — I hadn't yet poured myself into the work.

But I couldn't keep sketching for practice indefinitely. Having borrowed money on the promise of painting, I had an obligation to produce work with economic value.

"Um... lately I've been doing still lifes and landscapes to warm up my hand, but would you be willing to model for me sometime, hyung? I'd like to try drawing figures too."

Juhan, who had been flipping through books, art collections, and exhibition pamphlets on the built-in shelves while chewing a mouthful of banana, stopped and turned to look at me.

"Me? Not Baek Yuni, me?"

"Your eyes, cheekbones, jawline... I thought the contours of your face had a stronger character, so you'd be better to draw," I explained, hoping nuna wouldn't feel slighted.

I explained it so earnestly, but nuna just let out a soft laugh and waved it off.

"Why are you working so hard to justify yourself? I'm not the type to get upset over something like that."

I smiled at nuna, feeling awkward for worrying unnecessarily — when from upstairs came his voice.

"You're here, so why aren't you coming up? Aren't you hungry?"

He was leaning one arm casually on the railing, looking down at us from halfway up the stairs connecting to the first floor.

"We're looking at Yeehyeon's room. Wow — the treatment really is different when you become a contracted artist. I had no idea the basement here was this nice."

He glanced at me as he descended the stairs but didn't respond much to nuna's comment, turning his attention instead to the grocery bags on the floor.

"Why did you buy so much again? You won't even be able to eat it all."

"I have to work through my vacation this summer anyway, so I might as well get something out of the Director for it. Besides, we are going to eat every bit of it!"

Juhan playfully wrapped his arm around his waist with a grin, and even as the Director pushed hyung's forehead away, he smiled — clearly not displeased.

Surprisingly, Juhan was quite natural with physical affection, and had a warm side. This was true not just with him, but also with Manager Han and Yuni nuna, and often with me too — draping an arm over my shoulder or resting his head against me.

As the two of them bickered their way upstairs carrying the bags, they looked like close brothers. Following behind them, I found myself thinking about my own stiff personality — how, even though I had kissed him and slept with him, I still didn't know how to be so easy and uninhibited.

"Huh? The painting. Why did you take it down?"

The moment we entered the living room, Juhan stopped and pointed to the empty space on the wall above the sofa. My eyes instinctively flew to him.

"I was looking forward to seeing how it would feel now that I know it's Yeehyeon's painting."

"It's a piece whose value is about to skyrocket. I've stored it carefully. If you want to see that painting, push for an exhibition."

Without letting the other two notice, he glanced briefly at me and led the way toward the kitchen, changing the subject.

Even though I had said I was completely fine now, he still hadn't put Alienation back in its place. He seemed to believe I had some trauma connected to it — but what had shaken me that day had nothing to do with the painting itself, only with the past it brought to mind.

Still, I didn't feel ready to explain that to him, or to anyone. I had simply waited for time to pass and dull the edges without properly processing it inside. I was just grateful he wasn't forcing me to speak.

After the bags were moved to the kitchen, serious meal preparation began.

Since Yuni nuna and Juhan insisted on nothing but meat, tonight's main course was barbecue. He, in charge of the meat, marinated it and then headed out to the garden to set up the equipment, while the three of us unpacked the groceries and spread them across the wide island counter.

Every essential barbecue ingredient was there: Korean beef bought by cut, bone-in lamb chops, handmade sausages, large prawns, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. Vegetables for wrapping, fruit for dessert, ice cream, and even the cheesecake Juhan had insisted on putting in the cart just because he wanted it. As he had said — it was an amount impossible to finish in a single meal.

Aside from the barbecue, Juhan was making spicy whelk salad and nuna was making kimchi stew. Since I can't cook, my role was mainly helping to wash and prep ingredients.

"Manager Han will be here in ten minutes. Should we start the steaks?"

Juhan checked his phone and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had already eaten two bananas, a peach, and a pack of crackers while we prepped, but still seemed hungry.

"Yeehyeon, take this to the Director... then go help him outside."

Taking the tray nuna handed me, I stepped out the front door. He had already set up the table and grill entirely on his own and was filling the grill with charcoal. I placed the tray on the table — designed as a single unit with integrated bench seating, convenient for outdoor use — and walked over toward the grill.

"Manager Han will be here in ten minutes."

"Then we can start grilling."

He ignited the torch, which used a butane gas canister, and pushed the flame deep into the pile of charcoal stacked diagonally to allow for airflow.

The blue flame that hissed as it slid between the pieces of charcoal soon erupted into rising red fire. The harsh heat of midday had passed, but the sun was still up. I glanced at him where he stood beside the flames, wondering if he was too hot, and our eyes met.

"Have you tried lamb before?"

"No."

"It has a distinctive aroma — it can be a little polarizing. But those two have very refined palates, so they probably picked out good cuts. Give it a try. If you don't like it, we also have the Korean beef."

I nodded, watching the black charcoal catch and redden. I wasn't a picky eater.

"It's even better if you let it marinate and rest for an hour or two, but if the meat is good quality, it's delicious even just grilled like this. Though honestly, Kwon Juhan would probably tear into raw meat and declare it delicious."

"Juhan hyung said... that steak you grill, Director, is really delicious."

"He says things like that? I thought he only talked trash about me when I wasn't around."

I laughed at his words, and he checked that the charcoal was adequately lit, put the torch away, and spread the coals evenly inside the grill.

"My mother is from the US and loved barbecue. She used to invite friends over all year round to host them. As I grew up, I gradually took over the chef's role. We often did Korean charcoal grilling too."

It was a small, unremarkable story — and some might say I was making too much of it — but since this was the first time he had brought up something about himself so naturally, my gaze drifted toward him without meaning to.

As he set the grill grate over the coals he'd prepared for cooking, he seemed to sense the look and raised his head to meet my eyes. The contact of our gazes lingered a little longer than necessary.

His eyes held a slightly different light — the same tense, charged look he had sent me yesterday on the living room sofa, just before we kissed. The instant I sensed that change, my body felt constricted, as if bound by a taut rope.

He glanced back once, then took off his gloves and laid them on the wing-like shelves hanging from either side of the grill.

Then, with one hand, he cupped the back of my neck, and with the other, he touched my lips. More precisely, he pinched my lower lip hard and rubbed it so the inner mucosal surfaces pressed and scraped together.

The contact was sudden, and since I couldn't read the intent behind this unfamiliar intimacy, I could only stare at him with wide eyes. His gaze, fixed on me just the same, reminded me of the blue flame he had just used to kindle the black charcoal. As I looked into those eyes — which seemed cold yet seethed with passion — I felt the throbbing pain bloom in my lip, and then his hand withdrew.

It was a brief moment, barely ten seconds, but the sharp tingling numbness made me unconsciously bring my hand to my lips.

As he slipped his gloves back on, he smiled without showing his teeth. A sly-looking smile.

"The sensation... isn't it similar?"

"......"

"You like it when people hurt you a little, Seo Yeehyeon. Well, so do I."

He didn't say what it was similar to, but I had a vague idea.

"Because you were looking at me like you wanted to kiss me. But right now, we can't..."

"Ah..."

A foolish exclamation slipped out. I lowered the hand that had been fiddling with my lips, but the burning heat — as if I'd been scalded — remained.

He spoke as if that touch had been a substitute for a kiss, but ironically, the sensation had ignited a craving for a real one deep inside me. I felt a little resentful of him for stirring things up like that.

Then his voice dropped another notch, turning intimate.

"Or should I just do it? I don't mind."

As he said that with a mischievous smile, his phone on the table vibrated. He glanced over my shoulder at it, wrinkling the bridge of his nose in a frown as if disappointed.

"Ah... looks like someone oblivious is calling to have the parking gate opened."

Just as he predicted, the caller was Manager Han. While he opened the parking gate with the remote beside his phone and finished a brief call with her, I had to work to shake off thoughts of the recent contact.

I didn't know what it looked like — eyes that wanted a kiss — but I couldn't say his guess was entirely wrong. If desires like that were plainly visible in my eyes every time, that would be... more embarrassing than standing naked before him.

"Manager Han — you're here? Huh? What's this? You haven't even put the lamb on the grill yet?"

Juhan, who was coming out the front door using his shoulder to push it open while carrying a loaded tray, stopped abruptly with a fallen face when he saw the empty grill grate.

"What on earth do you have going on in your stomach? You must have been snacking on things while we prepped — how can you still be this hungry?"

"It's because there's nothing in my stomach. Do you think a few measly snacks are enough to fill me up?"

Their petty back-and-forth continued as I approached hyung, who was grumbling at the entrance, took the tray from him, and moved the food onto the table.

Yuni nuna appeared behind him carrying another tray and joined in directing complaints at him, who had just started grilling the meat. Feeling partly responsible myself, I set down the basket overflowing with greens on the table and watched his expression cautiously.

He poured a generous amount of olive oil into the wide rectangular pan, laid down the pre-marinated lamb, and — contrary to my worry — paid the two of them almost no attention.

After emptying the trays hyung had brought, I stepped forward to take the tray nuna was holding — but just as she was about to leave, nuna suddenly stopped walking, frowning.

"What's going on? Are you dating someone these days, Director?"

"Why are you spinning another story now?"

"You never used to wear cologne. But you suddenly started recently, and..."

Nuna paused, leaning her face closer to his shoulder and sniffing loudly.

"And today you've completely drenched yourself in it — it's almost overwhelming. Who are you trying to seduce, spraying on a scent this provocative...?"

What was provocative about a cologne — he frowned as he raised his arm and buried his nose and lips in the sleeve of his thin summer knit.

"Is it that strong?"

"It's a strong fragrance to begin with. Though it does seem like you've put on a bit too much. Are you catching a cold? You don't seem like the type to misjudge this kind of thing. Or does the other person like it this way? Something so intense it's suffocating?"

Grinning, nuna gave his shoulder a light tap — clearly delighted. It even felt like she was deliberately provoking him to tease him. But he only let out a small laugh, refusing to take the bait.

I walked over to the two of them as they continued joking around and took the tray from nuna. I felt his gaze but deliberately looked away.

As nuna said, I had no way of knowing whether there was someone else in his life. Nor did I have any right to question him about such matters or demand the truth. Until now I hadn't sensed any indication of it, so I had consciously tried not to think about any other affairs or romances he might have in places where I wasn't present. Even just thinking about my own relationship with him was already overwhelming enough.

And yet even this light conversation was enough for frightening imaginings to take hold of me.

"But Director, I thought you strictly insisted on custom-made fragrances — didn't know you used off-the-shelf ones too. Seems like you've mixed two or three together, but... hmm, I think I can identify one of them."

Nuna narrowed her eyes, concentrating, and named the brand and product name she suspected.

"Oh... you're sharp."

He raised his eyebrows and snapped the barbecue tongs together sharply.

I wondered whether the fragrance nuna had identified was perhaps that scent. Maybe what I recognized as that scent was actually the result of a blend of several different perfumes.

I shook my head, imagining myself walking into a perfume shop I'd never visited, paying a price that would clearly be a small fortune to me, buying the perfume, hiding it in my room, and secretly inhaling it while thinking of him — and how pathetic that version of me would look.

"Wow... the meat smells amazing!"

The door from the parking lot swung open and Manager Han appeared.

"It'll be about twenty minutes before it's ready to eat."

Juhan, explaining this with a puffy face while shooting the Director a pointed look, had his hair ruffled by Manager Han — who then came to me and patted my cheek, asking how I'd been. It had been five days since I'd last seen her; even on a Saturday, she'd been out for a cosmetics brand event she'd been invited to by a client.

"Look how happy Yeehyeon is now that Manager Han is here."

"Even though this kid seems brusque, it all shows on his face."

Yuni nuna and Juhan pointed at me and teased me. I thought I'd only managed a small smile, but I swept my hand over my face, wondering if I'd really been that obvious. Of course, expressions can't actually be felt by touch.

Noticing a gaze on me, I looked up toward him standing by the grill — but our eyes met only for a fleeting moment. Or maybe he had just glanced my way as his gaze drifted elsewhere.

Only after the perfectly cooked lamb steaks were divided evenly onto each plate did he finally take a seat. Since the table was set for four, he brought an extra chair from the terrace and settled in at the side.

"How is it? Does it suit your taste?"

He asked, looking across at me where I sat with nuna between us.

"Yes. It's very... delicious."

"That's a relief. You don't seem very picky."

As I nodded, Juhan, seated diagonally across from me, spoke up on my behalf.

"Yeehyeon never complains at work either. Kids like that usually eat without fussing too."

"But you complain constantly and still eat plenty. You're the exception, aren't you?"

Hyung, who had been gnawing on the lamb with his face practically buried in his plate — needing no fork or knife for the thick bone — glared at him with only his eyes. He raised both hands in surrender. Then, instead of cutting the meat he had portioned for himself, he drank his wine.

While the meat was being cooked, he seemed to have lost his appetite — barely touching his food and only drinking — and it worried me. But in a gathering like this I felt it would draw the wrong kind of attention if I were the one to step forward and say something, so I swallowed my words.

"Yeehyeon, how is it? Is being a full-time artist manageable?"

"For now, it's just..."

I answered Manager Han's question — directed squarely at me from across the table — with a vague, awkward smile. Even the term "full-time artist" still felt deeply unfamiliar.

"Director Liu, have you seen Yeehyeon's early drafts? He's too shy to show them to us."

"Wouldn't he be shy with me too? He said he was practicing and hasn't shown me anything either."

He answered nuna's question as he brought his wine glass to his lips, glancing at me with a hint of resentment in his eyes.

He had asked what kind of work I was doing, but he'd never asked to see it. I hadn't expected him to want to see practice-level sketches, and only then did it occur to me that perhaps he'd held back to avoid putting pressure on me.

As I was slowly cutting the ribs he had separately grilled with barbecue sauce for me — since it was my first time with lamb — I briefly set down my fork and knife and tried to wet my dry throat with wine. Suddenly, Juhan, with a triumphant expression, dropped the clean-stripped bone onto his plate with a thud.

"Ah... in that case, I'll be the very first person to see Yeehyeon's work."

"He's like this because Yeehyeon asked him to model."

Nuna, seemingly displeased with Juhan's smug air, curved one side of her lip slightly. In contrast to her furrowed brow, Manager Han's face brightened.

"Are you already starting real work? But why choose Juhan as the first model?"

"It's not the main work yet... I've mostly just drawn still lifes this week, so I'm trying to move to figures now... I asked him because his bone structure and face shape are so distinctive."

That was my answer, but it wasn't the whole truth.

I don't know how others approach their work, but unlike still-life sketches where I refined technique by copying exactly what I saw, I needed some kind of story when drawing a person. When drawing complete strangers, my imagination or emotions were projected onto them, but I wasn't ready to draw from myself yet.

The only people I could comfortably ask to model were Yuni nuna and Juhan — and among those two, the bigger reason I'd asked Juhan was that I knew more of his story.

He was the subject I felt compelled to paint — strongly, naturally — but I wasn't ready yet to capture that feeling in a painting.

"If you really want to try drawing figures properly, I could find you a professional model."

He said this while lightly swirling the wine glass in his hand, and Juhan jumped up, indignant.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean! Yeehyeon wants to paint me! Why are you interfering... Are you perhaps jealous that he chose me as a model over the stunningly handsome Director Liu?"

He frowned at hyung's somewhat childish teasing.

"I'm glad you at least acknowledge I'm stunningly handsome."

"Hmph. You may be stunningly handsome, but Kwon Juhan is the one chosen as the model."

He looked at hyung — leaning back in his chair, gazing down with an arrogant air — and shook his head. Then he set his glass on the table, pushed his barely touched plate aside, rested his elbow in the empty space, and looked at me.

"Since the topic has come up — if there's anything you need, tools, materials, environment... or even a model, don't hesitate to ask. We spare no expense supporting our exclusive artists, not just you, Seo Yeehyeon, so I hope you don't feel burdened by that. It's all for the sake of the work."

Yuni nuna nodded emphatically in agreement.

"Right. Some artists with high incomes, like Shushu, handle their own equipment and studios, but for those who have just started out like you, we provide support up to a certain point. If you're worrying about materials and all of that, the work won't come out the way you want. Not just any gallery treats people this well, you know?"

Nuna draped an arm over my shoulder and said this with a proud expression, but hearing Shushu's name made my body tighten slightly. My gaze involuntarily shifted toward him. Flustered by how obvious it must have looked, I quickly turned my head — but he showed no reaction whatsoever.

Though I understood the intent behind what he and nuna were saying, I already had more than I needed.

He had already scheduled construction for next week to build a partition wall between the sleeping area and the workspace — with a door — saying that once I started working seriously with oil paint, the smell would make it difficult to work and live in the same space.

What I actually wanted was simply the chance to work part-time, even if only for a few hours a day. In a situation where it was unclear when I might start earning income from my art, I at least wanted to help cover his food expenses — but when I brought it up, he flatly refused, citing that he couldn't guarantee my safety.

"Ah, Director Liu, would it be possible to display Yeehyeon's work at the joint exhibition in the second half of the year? Maybe it's a bit rushed?"

Nuna asked him while keeping her arm around my shoulder, and he answered by looking at me rather than at nuna.

"Since it's a joint exhibition, even a single piece would be enough."

"Don't feel pressured. We wouldn't force you to exhibit something you aren't satisfied with. We'll aim to include it if you have a completed work by then."

I nodded at nuna's words, but just the thought of my painting being displayed at an exhibition made my throat go dry with anxiety.

"The joint exhibition might feel a bit empty without Shushu's work this time. Everything will probably sell out at the Chicago show, won't it?"

That was Juhan's concern.

The joint exhibition was scheduled after Shushu's Chicago show, so if all the works sold out in Chicago, it would be difficult to bring them back to Korea.

"Shushu's work will certainly sell out, but this is also a good opportunity to promote the other artists. Plan the concept well. The execution of an exhibition matters more than the artwork itself — more than half of it."

Just as he had in front of Suki Kim, he maintained a confident stance regarding Shushu's sales. He also didn't seem overly worried about the joint exhibition. The problem was Yuni nuna.

"Sigh... but can I really handle the Chicago business trip properly? Shushu is still having panic attacks, isn't he?"

She pulled her arm from my shoulder, sighed, and leaned her elbows on the table, clasping her hands over her head.

I knew nuna was deeply troubled because Shushu was anxious about the Director not accompanying her on the trip to Chicago. Watching nuna's hunched back, I couldn't offer a single word of comfort and just kept drinking my wine to no effect.

"She needs to start becoming more independent from Manager Han sooner or later. If Manager Han follows her for every work trip, when will you two ever get a chance?"

"Hey, but if Shushu calls you in tears, won't you just cave immediately?"

When Juhan scoffed with an air of disbelief, he brought the wine glass to his lips and answered.

"That's why I've blocked his number altogether."

Though he said it as if that were the fundamental solution, it sounded to me like he was saying he didn't trust himself to hold firm if he actually answered the call.

"Oh... looks like you've really steeled your heart this time. You have to stay firm. Otherwise I'm the one who ends up in trouble. If the Director, Baek Yuni, and Manager Han all go to Chicago... what am I supposed to do alone in Seoul?"

Juhan shivered dramatically, looking as though the very thought was horrifying.

"If Manager Han goes, I'll have to stay behind. Even if you hire someone new, they'll all be rookies. How are you supposed to prepare the exhibition with only rookies?"

At nuna's deflated voice, he shook his head firmly.

"That won't happen, so just focus on preparing for the Chicago exhibition. That will absolutely not happen."

"I appreciate you saying that, but... I'm just not confident. I rarely doubt what you say, Director, but this involves Shushu. The artist is a bit... to put it kindly, sensitive, and to put it less kindly, temperamental... so I'm not fully sure of myself."

For a moment, the conversation shifted to anecdotes about Shushu's extreme shyness and reserved nature, which often came across as sensitivity and a difficult temperament.

Around the time nuna first joined Phantom, Shushu hadn't been active as an artist for long, and his shyness went deeper than just being reserved. He had a dark, defensive disposition that bordered on social anxiety — back then, things like putting him in front of a camera or having him give opening remarks to a crowd, as he does now, were unthinkable.

He had conducted all his interviews in writing only, and when Juhan joined around the time he had just begun to open up, he'd unfortunately had to go through the same process all over again.

"Even before the accident, he wasn't exactly sociable, but it definitely got worse afterward. Still, he's improved so much now — didn't you see when he first met Yeehyeon? Think about Kwon Juhan, whom I couldn't let into the waiting room for the first six months after he joined. He's improving."

He tried to reassure nuna, mixing in jokes with exaggerated expressions and gestures. Hyung complained that what had made his early days difficult wasn't Shushu but Director Liu's torment — but that story was dismissed.

"Shushu doesn't distrust you either. He says it's because he's mentally fragile himself. If he's given time to prepare mentally, he'll be fine. Kun is going with you too."

With Manager Han's encouragement added, nuna nodded. Though her expression still held some anxiety, her profile — as she toyed with the handle of a knife — looked noticeably lighter than before.

"You're the one coordinating everything with the contact on their end — where would we be without you? You're in charge of this event. That's not changing. Absolutely not."

As if to make clear there was no room for further debate, he pulled a beer from the icebox — announcing he'd start grilling the Korean beef once the lamb was mostly done — and returned to the grill.

My gaze naturally followed him. To hide it, I reached for my wine, as was my habit.

The fact that he would be accompanying nuna on the upcoming business trip to Chicago was a reason she could feel less anxious — but it was not the same for me.

I had been feeling a persistent, unjustified anxiety about him going on a long business trip with Shushu. I had been ignoring it because I found those feelings in myself both awkward and unpleasant. But the rational effort to deny and turn away from it crumbled with surprising ease.

Once I'd finished the last of my wine, hyung stood up and poured me more.

"In any case, Yeehyeon has been through a lot this time! Let's forget everything today and enjoy ourselves! Shall we all toast to Yeehyeon's smooth artistic career? Yes?"

The sudden shift of attention toward me was disorienting, but I couldn't say hyung's suggestion was unwelcome. He picked up the tongs again and came back to the table to join the toast.

As the meal wound down, the atmosphere naturally shifted into a drinking session.

By then, the sun had completely set, and as darkness fell, the temperature in the garden — covered in earth rather than asphalt — dropped quickly. The cool air, passing through the garden trees, became a pleasant breeze. A faint warmth still lingered — enough to dampen my back with sweat — but perhaps because of the alcohol, even that felt less like discomfort and more like a hazy, floating sensation.

"So that's when I really started to like Yeehyeon."

Juhan, now tipsy, was speaking and gesturing at double his usual volume. He was enthusiastically recounting the story of how he had recommended his own work to Inwu at the first exhibition I'd worked with him.

"Ah, I truly cannot forget Inwu hyung's expression back then."

He slapped the table, his face showing how satisfying the memory still was.

"What did he say? Director, you were there. What did Yeehyeon say?"

He took a sip of beer to wet his throat and let out a short laugh.

"He said that the way you seem to show everything honestly yet somehow don't at all is a perfect match for your paintings and for you."

"T-that's not what I meant!"

I swear I hadn't been speaking with any arrogance. As I had explained to Juhan himself later at the Spanish-style pub, I had simply felt that the way he revealed his own lack of candor through his characteristically cheerful, joking manner — so simply and clearly — was very him-like as a work.

Facing the canvas again now, I felt more keenly than ever that this too was a process requiring the resolve to confront one's own objectively viewed self and accept feeling diminished by it.

"Then — what did you mean?"

Everyone burst into laughter at Juhan mimicking my tone. I gave an awkward smile, embarrassed at how serious I'd been... but then something struck me. He had remembered that moment with such precision.

That morning in front of his Ghost car, he had defined me as nothing more than a "temporary part-timer" and shown no interest in me whatsoever — just as he had told Inwu to his face. I hadn't expected him to remember the exchange in such specific detail.

"I know, I know. Inwu wasn't offended because he knew you weren't being sarcastic — in fact, that's exactly why he became interested in you."

Nuna, who had swapped seats with hyung at some point and was now sitting diagonally across from me, said this while stirring the whelk salad. Her words were slightly slurred from the alcohol.

"Right. I know because I'm an S, but Inwu hyung is a true M. He probably got even more interested because you were so direct with him."

Hyung, who had been agreeing with nuna while pulling the last beer from the cooler, suddenly turned back to me as if he'd just remembered something.

"Oh, Inwu hyung also knows you signed the artist contract and is really looking forward to it. Have you talked to him?"

"Yes. He calls about every other day..."

"Ooh... really? Is Inwu hyung unexpectedly serious about Yeehyeon? For the great Inwu hyung to call every other day and put in that much effort — this isn't ordinary."

Nuna bit the tip of her chopsticks, eyes sparkling. Hyung, however, frowned.

"Serious? Inwu hyung being serious about Yeehyeon? Even if he is — ah, that's just too much."

"What? Are you saying an experienced playboy isn't qualified to date someone with less experience? Why are you suddenly acting so conservative? Director, what about you? If Inwu hyung is serious about Yeehyeon, and Yeehyeon likes him back — would you object?"

He looked as if he hadn't expected the question to be aimed at him, resting his elbow on the table and shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, that's... is that really something for someone else to step in and oppose?"

As if to say "see?", nuna tilted her chin toward hyung. But hyung — who usually advocated considerable liberalism about romance — wasn't backing down easily this time, for some reason.

"I know that too. It's not for others to interfere, so he should pass his own conscience check and restrain himself."

"Seo Yeehyeon, are you interested in Choi Inwu?"

"......"

At his question — delivered while he had seemed quietly indifferent to the debate between the other two — everyone's attention immediately shifted toward him.

Neither his tone nor the way he looked at me conveyed any edge of interrogation. That only confused me further.

Unable to grasp the intent behind the question, I looked back and forth between all four faces before slowly opening my mouth, turning the stem of my wine glass between my fingers.

"Well... Inwu hyung has never seriously brought that up..."

"Set aside Inwu's circumstances. Just answer whether you, Seo Yeehyeon, are interested in him in that way."

His face, which held a light smile fitting the mood of the gathering, revealed the playful curiosity characteristic of someone who finds other people's love affairs genuinely interesting to observe.

In the reverse situation, I could never have manufactured such composure, not even with acting. I tightened my grip on the wine glass I had been fiddling with and answered.

"......No."

He shrugged his shoulders and looked around at the others.

"That's what he says. Why are you spending so much energy on an issue he has no feelings about?"

"Ah... what should we do about Inwu hyung? He always insists he's 'an Alpha endlessly close to golden,' convinced he can charm anyone if he sets his mind to it. But I guess that doesn't work on a Beta."

Even though she spoke with pity, nuna's face was full of amused laughter.

"Exactly. Yeehyeon may look naive, but he's not the type to fall head over heels just because someone comes at him with worn-out techniques."

Juhan wrapped an arm firmly around my shoulder, satisfied.

My attention was focused on someone else entirely, yet here I was answering questions about a scandal with the wrong person — it felt like a clumsy comedy. I let out a bitter smile with my head bowed.

"Huh? Where are you going, Director?"

But as if I were wired to react the moment anything connected to him was said, my gaze automatically turned toward the sound of nuna calling him.

"Where else? I'm just going to bring more drinks."

"Oh, then we're done with wine! Could we have some beer, please?"

As he turned away, waving a hand in vague acknowledgment of Juhan's request, he had to stop at nuna's outstretched arms.

"What is it?"

"Carry me to the bathroom on your way."

As nuna climbed onto the bench, he grabbed her arm so she wouldn't fall. He shook his head as if he couldn't do anything about her, but offered his back without a word of complaint. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung there, laughing like a child, her cheeks flushed from alcohol.

I had noticed it before. Even if he could be mercilessly exacting as a boss during work, in private settings — especially over drinks — he was like a kind older brother.

Yuni nuna and Juhan hyung were also people who, at work, never took advantage of their private familiarity or acted spoiled or hurt by his direct manner of speaking — they were people driven by efficiency above all. But once drunk, they clung to him like the youngest sibling who had been thoroughly indulged.

All of this was possible because he kept himself open — allowing the two of them to show affection without fear of rejection.

Watching nuna's back disappear through the front door as she clung to him, I was reminded of the experience from a few months ago, right here in this garden, when I had felt like Alice in Wonderland. So much had changed in my relationship with him since then — we had even shared passionate nights together — and yet I still felt like Alice, visiting from that other world.

"So I'm a nude model? Is this finally the chance to show off this physique?"

I gave an awkward laugh at hyung's joke as he poured his beer into my empty wine glass.