Price of Silence

"That will be 156 euros total."

"Yes, may I have the receipt, please?"

Although the clerk had spoken in English, Yeehyeon replied in French. His pronunciation was still quite clumsy, but he tried to speak French as much as possible within his limits. The clerk looked over and smiled, and Yeehyeon smiled back.

The large art supply store — well-known to both art students and the general public for stocking everything from various art supplies to a wide range of stationery — had four branches in Paris. Of those, Yeehyeon primarily frequented the branch in the Marais district, the closest to 'The Hands' in the 19th arrondissement. The other artists at 'The Hands' did the same.

Although he had been visiting the store like a regular for the past two months, it was large enough and staffed by enough different clerks across different shifts that he hadn't yet made an impression on all of them.

"Happy New Year! Bonne année!"

"Vous de même."

After the brief, pleasant exchange, he tucked his bag under his arm and stepped outside. While it couldn't compare to the deep midwinter cold of Seoul, the Parisian weather on the last day of the year felt quite sharp, likely due to the wind.

He transferred his purchases into his large backpack near the shop entrance, pulled up his coat collar against the wind, shoved his hands into his pockets, and quickened his pace northward, skirting a small park on his right. 'Ttu' (tout) — the bookstore-gallery he frequented — was only a two-minute walk away.

As he pushed open the white-framed door of 'Ttu' and stepped inside, his hunched shoulders relaxed first in the welcoming warmth. As was often the case, the main floor was empty; the sound of voices drifted from the gallery space connected behind the bookstore counter.

Yeehyeon browsed slowly through the shelves while he waited for someone to come out. 'Ttu,' which specialized in art books alongside texts related to gender, was the kind of place where time slipped away unnoticed while flipping through its various titles.

"How was the book from last time? Did you finish it already?"

At the bright voice speaking in English with a French accent, Yeehyeon looked up to find Beau Beau — who managed the bookstore section of 'Ttu' — approaching him with his characteristic warm, gentle smile. Yeehyeon smiled back and set down the photography book he had been looking at.

"No, I've only read about half of it — but I'm finding it very interesting. As you recommended, essays really do have their own distinct qualities."

"Right? Essays are generally more psychologically accessible. Most people start with essays and then move on to specialized texts. Unlike you."

Beau Beau smiled meaningfully and pressed his index finger lightly against Yeehyeon's shoulder. Yeehyeon glanced sideways, rubbed the back of his neck, and let out an awkward laugh.

Since coming to Paris, he had slowly started reading books about Alphas and Omegas. At first, not knowing where or how to begin, he had bought five or six books at once on impulse. After frequenting the shop like that for about two weeks, Beau Beau had cautiously approached him and asked if he needed any recommendations.

About a month after that — once they had exchanged the facts that Yeehyeon was an artist affiliated with 'The Hands' in the 19th arrondissement and that Beau Beau was an Omega who ran 'Ttu' with his boyfriend — Beau Beau had brought up how he himself had only manifested late, at twenty-five, and had wandered for a while afterward. His boyfriend was an Alpha who had also experienced his manifestation after turning twenty.

It wasn't a light exchange, like discussing tastes in clothes or food, but it didn't carry the weight of someone reluctantly revealing a heavy secret either.

It turned out that Beau Beau and his boyfriend ran a group called 'Late Blooming' (Apparition Tardive) through 'Ttu.' Having watched Yeehyeon frequent the shop for weeks, absorbed in books about Alphas and Omegas, Beau Beau had thought he might be an Alpha or Omega navigating a late manifestation — and had shared his own story first to make it easier for Yeehyeon to open up.

"But you know… at this point, why don't you just admit it?"

Beau Beau, arms crossed, leaned against the pillar beside a display stand and narrowed his eyes at Yeehyeon. Yeehyeon's eyes widened slightly as he traced the cover of the photography book he had been looking at moments before.

"It's more than just a strong interest in Alphas and Omegas — you're digging into it too deeply, too professionally. There are plenty of Betas with a passing curiosity, but it's rare for someone to pursue it with your kind of determination. For a Beta to have the level of knowledge you do, they'd essentially have to be a specialist in the field."

"That feels like too much praise."

As Yeehyeon tried to brush it off with a chuckle, Beau Beau — who had moved closer — nudged him lightly with his broad, crossed-arm shoulder.

"Your lover is an Alpha or an Omega, right? Huh? Or maybe someone you have feelings for is an Alpha or an Omega."

"……"

After pressing Yeehyeon — who kept responding with an ambiguous smile — a few more times, Beau Beau uncrossed his arms and sighed deeply.

"I'd probably hear 'Papa' from our dog faster than I'd get an answer out of you."

Watching Beau Beau turn and head toward the counter as if he had completely given up on getting a reply, Yeehyeon smiled quietly to himself.

"Funny. Don't use your nice smile as a weapon against me."

Beau Beau spun back around with a look, and Yeehyeon approached him, rummaged through his backpack, and held out a small framed picture decorated with a ribbon.

"I stopped by to give you this. It's a New Year's gift."

Beau Beau looked down at the frame with an expression that went briefly still with a small, genuine emotion — as if he had truly been caught off guard by an unexpected gift — then reached across the counter and gently patted Yeehyeon's cheek.

"It's not much of a gift, though…"

"What are you talking about? Who knows how much this painting will be worth someday?"

Yeehyeon let out a soft laugh as Beau Beau put on an exaggeratedly serious expression, holding the frame at arm's length and squinting at it as if appraising it.

After a round of thanks, a bisou, and a hug, Beau Beau insisted — and won — pressing the photography book Yeehyeon had been looking at into his hands as a gift in return.

Then Beau Beau walked Yeehyeon to the door, where he paused with an uncharacteristically hesitant expression and carefully held out a small card.

"Yeehyeon, I haven't invited you before because you didn't seem keen — but if you're open to it, please come to one of our meetings sometime. We use the name 'Late Blooming' to convey a core message, but as you know, our ultimate goal is to encourage interest in and understanding of all designations, for everyone. Fortunately our efforts are bearing fruit, and the number of Betas joining the group has been growing. Whether you're a Beta, an Alpha, or an Omega — if you have a genuine interest in your own designation and others, you're always welcome."

"……"

Yeehyeon took the card. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and bit down on it lightly. Unable to give any definite answer right now, he simply looked at the card.

Beau Beau gave his shoulder a light pat. Yeehyeon tucked the card into his coat pocket and smiled at him without showing his teeth.

"Bonne année."

"Bonne année."

After one more slightly awkward bisou, Yeehyeon stepped out onto the windy street and headed further north toward the Métro station.

From 5 PM on December 31st until noon on January 1st, all public transportation in Paris — the Métro, buses, trams, and RER — ran free. Even without that, the last day of the year was bound to be crowded in any city in the world.

Standing near the inner doors of the subway car, which was more packed than usual, Yeehyeon took out his phone and sent a message to Yuni nuna. As soon as he sent the message saying he would arrive at their meeting spot within thirty minutes, a quick reply came back. She said she had already arrived and was having coffee at a nearby café.

He leaned his head against the door glass — which reflected the passengers inside in a faint, blurry outline but showed nothing of the world outside — and smiled, picturing her having arrived thirty minutes early, probably downing coffee after coffee out of nerves.

Today was New Year's Eve. He was on his way to Saint-Philippe-du-Roule station to join Yuni nuna and her friend Michelle for the New Year's countdown event at the Arc de Triomphe. The plan was to have dinner near Rue La Boétie — relatively less crowded before the Champs-Élysées filled up — then make their way in. It had been Michelle's suggestion.

Michelle was four years older than Yuni nuna and five years older than Yeehyeon — a British woman of Indian descent and, having lived in Paris for ten years, a true Parisian in every practical sense. She worked for a mid-sized designer brand with a solid following across France and Europe, and she was one of the people who came to 'The Hands' gallery most frequently.

Yuni nuna and Michelle had first grown close as gallerist and visitor, but over the past two or three weeks had been meeting outside the gallery far more often. Watching the careful, pleasant warmth they showed each other, it was impossible not to sense that they were thinking of each other as something more than just friends.

Yeehyeon didn't want to wedge himself between them as an oblivious third wheel, but Yuni nuna had begged him to come along, and she still seemed uneasy about spending New Year's Eve alone with Michelle.

Watching the two of them, he found himself thinking that perhaps he and Liu should not have skipped over this stage entirely. The stage of harboring mutual feelings and growing closer with cautious, gradual steps.

A sequence is just a kind of manual — not an absolute rule — and he had never felt a lack of understanding, interest, or connection during his time with Liu… but if they had moved closer step by step through a stage like this, perhaps they would have had the time and emotional space to explain their respective situations, to voice what they wanted from each other, and to actually sit with those explanations. He couldn't stop thinking thoughts like that.

Over the past two months, he had entertained all kinds of thoughts.

Most of them were variations on the same fantasy: going back to some point in the past and making a different choice. And, as is typical of that kind of imagining, the endings were always hazily indistinct.

That was the one thing he had come to understand with his whole body over two full months.

Even if he mentally replaced a past decision with a new one, he couldn't be certain it would have led somewhere better.

As the subway pulled into the platform at Saint-Philippe-du-Roule station, Yeehyeon straightened up from his lean, adjusted his backpack, and stepped off the train into the crowd. The exit signs in the Paris Métro were notoriously unhelpful, but thanks to the directions Yuni nuna had sent him in advance, he avoided the usual hassle of emerging from the wrong exit and having to reopen the map app.

About halfway to the café where they were meeting, he ran into Yuni nuna in front of a photo studio. She was already well-known among 'The Hands' staff and visitors for her distinctive style — which suited her perfectly — but today she seemed to have made a special effort for the occasion.

Since they had left 'The Hands' at different times, this was the first time they were seeing each other all day. Her face wore a mixture of tension and excitement as she slipped her arm through his — he still had both hands in his coat pockets — and pressed close to his shoulder.

"Ugh, I dressed up and now I'm going to freeze to death."

They turned into an inner alleyway, chatting about the sudden chill in the air and wondering whether Paris had some equivalent of the Korean jinx where the temperature always plummets on the day of the Suneung exam.

Just as the sign for their meeting spot came clearly into view, they spotted Michelle walking toward them from across the street, waving. True to her profession as a designer, she was immaculately put together.

Yuni nuna, who enjoyed bold designs, and Michelle, who favored minimalism, created an atmosphere that seemed mismatched at first glance yet somehow harmonized. It was an interesting synergy built on unexpectedness — not the obvious, formulaic compatibility everyone could predict.

The moment they caught sight of each other, life flooded back into both their faces and their eyes lit up. Seeing it play out through other people, Yeehyeon felt he understood a little better why people said you couldn't hide love.

He must have looked like that once, too. He knew that feeling. The flutter that starts before the brain even registers — the body reacting first, the moment the other person enters your field of vision. The sensation of simply liking them, liking them so much, that you have to consciously slow your steps from their unconscious quickening, have to make an effort to stop your smile from spreading too wide.

Yeehyeon tucked his chin into his coat collar, pretending to feel the cold, and bit down on his lip to erase a faint, wry smile.

The café Michelle had suggested was situated a little off the main stretch of Rue La Boétie, and from the outside, it didn't look like anything special. It probably wasn't the kind of place tourists sought out for the romance of Paris in a cup of coffee or a simple meal.

Michelle explained that its regulars were mostly local residents and nearby office workers — decent food at a reasonable price.

"My old office was near the Champs-Élysées, and this was one of the places I found back then. I couldn't afford a twenty-euro lunch every day, so I went scouting."

Nodding at Michelle's words, Yeehyeon quietly took in the interior. Checkerboard tile floors, round tables covered with white tablecloths, chairs fitted with red leather cushions, a heavy mahogany bar occupying the back of the room. It felt old but well-kept and clean.

To Yeehyeon's eyes, the place was already exotic and wonderful enough — but he also wondered whether, despite it being a special occasion, the two of them had chosen somewhere more accessible out of consideration for his own finances.

"I was so sorry we couldn't spend Christmas together, but I'm genuinely glad we can welcome the New Year like this."

The waiter had set out the wine at Michelle's request and stepped away from the table. Michelle pulled out a chair, sat down, and gave Yuni nuna a quiet smile.

Unlike Yeehyeon, who had obtained a special visa issued for artists with a clearly established affiliation who met certain criteria, Yuni nuna had applied for a work visa and had been required to return to Seoul for about ten days not long ago due to visa complications.

Michelle was expressing her regret over the Christmas they hadn't been able to spend together because of that. She made no rush to close the distance between them, yet she didn't bother hiding the fact that she felt something particular for Yuni nuna — and Yuni nuna was the same. The two were approaching each other like two dancers in perfect, unhurried sync.

"This year became so much more special because of you two."

"We should be the ones thanking you. Having you, Michelle, helped us find our footing in Paris so much faster."

Yuni nuna responded to Michelle's toast, and Yeehyeon raised his glass toward Michelle with a smile, adding his agreement. Just as their glasses were about to touch, Michelle paused, drew her glass slightly back, and added with a playful expression.

"And — to the successful Paris debut and first sale of 'The Hands'' next prospective star."

Michelle finished the toast by quoting a phrase from an art magazine review of Yeehyeon's work. Yeehyeon dropped his head, feeling his face go warm.

"It's truly something to celebrate and be proud of. Yeehyeon has very convincingly proven his potential to become a full-time artist. If things keep going this way, we might need to clear out his studio at 'The Hands' sooner than expected."

Michelle said this lightly, setting her wine glass back down on the table.

If an artist failed to produce results within a certain period, or if their artwork sales revenue exceeded thirty thousand US dollars, they would no longer be eligible for 'The Hands'' support. Leaving the organization for the latter reason was the aspiration of every affiliated artist.

"Except in very special cases, it takes time for a new artist's work to sell for over thirty thousand dollars. That's precisely why 'The Hands' allows artists to create freely for as long as they keep producing — without worrying about making a living. The support only covers the bare minimum for subsistence, but at the very least, it means you can pursue whatever you want creatively without financial constraints. For artists struggling with money, it's an extraordinary opportunity."

Michelle leaned back momentarily to let the waiter place the bread basket on the table, then reached for it and added, directing her words at Yeehyeon.

"Of course, if you hadn't shown the ability and the potential, you would never have received an offer to join in the first place."

Escargots, beef stew, salmon steak with rice, duck, and a heaping mountain of french fries that nearly overflowed the plate. They ate and drank heartily, talking across a wide range of topics, and over three hours slipped by without anyone noticing.

"I'll pay today. To commemorate selling my first painting…"

While they waited for the waiter to bring the bill, Yeehyeon hesitated before making the offer — and as expected, the two of them firmly insisted on splitting it.

"I've relied on you both so much until now… Please, just this once, let me treat you."

He had deposited almost the entire proceeds from the painting sale to Liu, setting aside only a small emergency fund, so he wasn't exactly flush with cash. But he couldn't let the opportunity to express his gratitude for everything they had done for him pass without doing something. Though they looked reluctant, understanding his sincerity, they didn't refuse outright.

Stepping out onto the street, the atmosphere felt far more charged than before — something almost electric on the skin. A few excited young people rushed past the three of them. Walking a step or two behind Michelle and Yuni nuna, Yeehyeon fiddled with his phone inside his pocket.

Even after the money had been deposited, there had been no word from Liu. Yeehyeon, for his part, hadn't sent a single call or even a message in two months.

They had let time pass without creating any point of contact, as if they had never met — and yet, strangely, Yeehyeon was certain that Liu was watching him. And probably, just as Yeehyeon couldn't bring himself to touch that money, Liu hadn't laid a hand on it either.

But just as he couldn't touch that money, he couldn't stop himself from sending it. It was as if the only thread still connecting them was the act of one person sending it and the other acknowledging its receipt.

Yeehyeon pulled his hand away from his phone and quickened his pace toward Yuni nuna and Michelle, who had stopped ahead and were waving for him to hurry up.

There was only one reason he wasn't reaching out to Liu.

He understood that more time was still needed.

Even before they reached the Champs-Élysées, the crowd was enormous. Michelle guided a flustered Yeehyeon and Yuni nuna to a hidden vantage point she knew.

"There's no need to push toward the front. The fireworks are the highlight — and they actually look more spectacular from further back, where you can take it all in at once."

The crowd was so dense that movement was barely possible, and the three had to proceed in single file. Michelle reached back naturally and found Yuni nuna's hand as she followed closely behind.

Most of the young people around them were already quite drunk, each clutching a beer bottle, singing and shouting and offering boisterous Happy New Year greetings to everyone in earshot.

Broken glass and cigarette butts littered the ground. It was more chaotic than he had imagined — but perhaps because of the collective excitement of the approaching New Year, people were smiling and meeting it with good humor rather than annoyance.

"I've seen the Ball Drop event in New York, and compared to that crowd, this is still manageable. Back then, I couldn't even get to a bathroom and thought I was going to die stuck in place for nearly ten hours. And the cold doesn't even compare to here. What about Korea — do you have New Year's countdown events like this?"

Yuni nuna explained the Jongno Bosingak bell-ringing ceremony to Michelle. Michelle showed great interest in the idea of welcoming the New Year by striking a great bell thirty-three times and said she hoped to experience it in person someday.

As she said it, Michelle looked warmly into Yuni nuna's eyes, and Yeehyeon understood at once that she was hinting she wanted to go — with Yuni nuna. Yuni nuna didn't pretend not to understand, smiling back.

A little after eleven, the light show at the Arc de Triomphe began, and the moment the New Year arrived, spectacular fireworks burst open overhead. All around, people were exchanging New Year's greetings with bisous, and couples were sharing deep kisses. Michelle and Yuni nuna shared a kiss that lingered — something unmistakably more than the kind exchanged between friends.

In Seoul, the New Year would have already begun seven hours ago.

New York… In New York, it was still evening, about six hours to go before midnight.

He had heard from Yuni nuna about three weeks ago that Liu had been staying in New York for the H&W exhibition.

Of course, he hadn't explained to her anything about the Changing, or the details of what had happened between him and Liu. By not bringing it up, Yuni nuna seemed to have concluded on her own that his connection with Liu had been severed. He didn't deliberately share news about Liu in any detail — but he didn't go out of his way to avoid the subject when it came up in conversation, either.

Just hearing his name brought a complicated kind of pain. But at the same time, hearing news of him from someone else made Yeehyeon feel, somehow, a little more alive.

Watching the fireworks bloom brilliantly across the sky — bright with the hope of the coming year — he wished for Liu not to be alone welcoming it. He hoped someone was with him. He hoped that Liu… wouldn't hurt too much.

Even though they left the Champs-Élysées immediately after the fireworks ended to beat the crowd, the entrance to the Métro station was already so packed it seemed impossible to even approach. Only after walking past several stations — more than thirty minutes on foot — were the three of them finally able to get inside.

Michelle, who lived in the 6th arrondissement — better known as the Latin Quarter — was on a different platform. She and Yuni nuna waved to each other across the tracks until the very last moment, reluctant to let go. Yuni nuna smiled at Michelle's exaggerated, playful performance, though she didn't look embarrassed in the least.

Michelle's train arrived first. Shortly after, a train pulled into their platform as well. The cars were packed — not just with people from the Champs-Élysées, but with all of Paris that had been out counting down to the New Year.

"Ah… it was good that we went. Right?"

As if the tension had finally eased now that they had parted from Michelle, Yuni nuna leaned her head against the door and exhaled. Yeehyeon nodded.

"But I don't think we need to go twice. Once was enough of an experience for me."

Perhaps recalling the cold, the long wait, and the few drunk Parisian youths who had been a bit much, Yuni nuna shook her head slightly, looking tired.

"Wouldn't it have been nicer to spend it just the two of you at your place, nuna?"

At Yeehyeon's lightly teasing joke, Yuni nuna poked his cheek with her gloved hand and gave him a look that wasn't quite annoyed.

One of the changes since coming here was that he no longer used formal speech with Yuni nuna. She and Juhan had told him early on to drop the honorifics, but since they had started out speaking formally, it hadn't been easy to change. After spending every single day together here, though, somewhere along the way "Yuni nuna, would you like to have lunch?" had simply become "Yuni nuna, want to grab lunch?"

Even without meeting someone they were drawn to, even without being in the perfect environment for painting — the depth of how much they leaned on each other and how grateful they were for each other in this unfamiliar city didn't need to be put into words.

Leaving behind the warm, rowdy energy of the cafés and bars lining the Canal Saint-Martin, the two of them turned into an inner alley, holding hands and swinging their arms, heading slowly toward 'The Hands' — toward home — as if out for a leisurely late-night walk.

The first-floor lobby, where the exhibition hall and offices were, was dark and quiet. From the communal living area upstairs, though, a lively noise spilled down. It wasn't an official party like the one they'd had for Christmas, but since most of the artists weren't originally from Paris, it seemed they had gathered for a modest beer party of their own.

"How was the Arc de Triomphe? The crowds looked massive on TV this year, too."

Ben — from Germany, and currently one of the longest-staying artists at 'The Hands' — spotted Yuni nuna and Yeehyeon and was the first to wave with a big, welcoming arm.

"It was amazing. The waiting was a bit dull and my legs are killing me, though."

"Still — if you're in Paris, experiencing it at least once isn't bad. All of us spent our first New Year's at either the Arc de Triomphe or the Eiffel Tower."

The assurance 'The Hands' had given them before their arrival — that not knowing French wouldn't be a significant inconvenience — had proven true. Unless you were working and navigating the full grind of daily professional life, Paris was a city where English alone was sufficient for things like shopping or ordering at restaurants.

Beyond that, 'The Hands' also offered basic French conversation classes for its affiliated artists.

"Would you… like to have a drink? There's still plenty of pizza and beer left."

Jun, who extended the invitation with a cautious, hesitant manner, was one of the artists who attended the French conversation classes most enthusiastically alongside Yeehyeon. Tall and slender, he looked far closer to a boy than a young man — the youngest member of 'The Hands,' who, by Korean age, had turned nineteen only a few hours ago.

"Uh… I'd like to, but I'm a bit tired. I've already stayed up past my usual bedtime, so I'm pretty sleepy too."

At Yeehyeon's gentle refusal, Jun nodded with a smile that couldn't quite conceal his disappointment. Unlike Yuni nuna and Michelle, where neither needed to hide their feelings or pretend not to notice the other's, Yeehyeon pretended not to see why Jun looked the way he did. He offered a brief New Year's greeting and left the living room with Yuni nuna.

"Is it really okay for you to be that kind to him?"

As they turned onto the stairwell landing, Yuni nuna lowered her voice and nudged his arm.

"Jun likes you. If you treat him that sweetly, he might get his hopes up."

Yeehyeon shook his head with a smile.

"He won't."

"What do you mean he won't? You're being subtly cruel."

"No — I told him I have a boyfriend."

"…You did?"

"Yeah."

Yuni nuna looked like she wanted to ask more, but she didn't press.

It wasn't as though he had made some loud announcement to someone who hadn't even asked. He had simply let it slip naturally — mentioning to Jun, who was from Hong Kong, that his boyfriend was also of mixed British, Korean, and Hong Kong descent, just like him. Because he had said it with the intention of making Jun sense his own faint interest and gently step back from it, he wasn't entirely sure whether it had actually come across as natural or not.

In fact… he couldn't even be sure whether the statement that he had a boyfriend — or the statement that his boyfriend was from Hong Kong — was even true.

After parting from Yuni nuna and going up to the fourth floor, Yeehyeon dropped his bag on the floor the moment he entered the room. Without turning on the light or taking off his coat, he collapsed onto the bed. He had told Jun he was tired — but the real exhaustion only settled in once he was alone.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room, then, as if remembering, pulled the card Beau Beau had given him from his coat pocket. He tapped the corner of the card lightly against his lips while reading the brief description of the 'Late Blooming' gathering's purpose and website address, then leaned back and lay down.

A faint sound of laughter drifted through the gap beneath the old door, as if someone in the living room downstairs had said something funny. Lying on his back, Yeehyeon touched his lower lip and gazed up at the shadow the window frame cast across the ceiling.

The window was closed, but on a barely perceptible breath of air, Liu's scent drifted briefly under his nose. Knowing it was a hallucination conjured by deeply ingrained memory, Yeehyeon focused his attention not to miss that faint, lingering trace.

He never saw his apparition or heard his voice. But even without any trigger at all, Liu's scent would spring to life from memory and stimulate his actual sense of smell.

He had lost count of how many times he had stopped dead in the middle of the street, or while deeply absorbed in his work, only to look around as if startled awake from a dream.

Like the kiss he had given him. Like the kisses he sometimes gave when they couldn't actually kiss. And like how he often thought of kissing him when he was alone. Yeehyeon pressed his lips hard between his fingers. A sharp sting. He turned onto his side, still lying down, and curled his body inward, watching the blue and red and white lights of small fireworks launched from the canal flicker through the window.

Happy New Year.

……Awi.