Chapter 241

“That’s him.”

As soon as Baekgyeong confirmed Lewis’s face and went to scroll, Siron hurriedly snatched the mouse away.

“Hold on. You’ve never actually watched Lewis act, have you?”

“Not interested.”

“Just once. Come on. It’s a genuinely moving, iconic scene.”

When the mouse was taken from him, Baekgyeong tried to scroll with the keyboard arrows instead. Siron shoved his body aside to block him and forced the drama clip to play.

“Don’t die. Don’t die on me, okay? Hhk—please. The medic is on the way, okay? So just hold on a little longer.”

“Hah... haha... I’m... done for.”

It wasn’t Lewis now, but Private Norman Enderson, coughing up a gush of blood, face contorted and pale. In the wan light of a colorless dawn, the tears in his olive eyes made them look even greener. After shoving aside Lieutenant Marcus and taking the enemy shell in his place, he foresaw death; the scene that followed was his confession of love he had kept locked in his heart till now.

“Lieutenant Marcus. Please, live. Live until you’re a white-haired old man and the war is nothing but a faraway memory. And until that day, don’t forget that I loved you—don’t forget my love.”

It was only a clip a little over two minutes long, but Siron was absorbed in it at once. A clear film of moisture rose over his wide, clean eyes. Siron wasn’t the only one being forgotten. The real Lewis, too, was being forgotten by the world. He who had once blazed with overflowing talent.

At the hair-trigger instant when a single blink would have sent a tear dropping, Baekgyeong spoke.

“If he’d just talked less, he might’ve lived.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Jolted out of his feelings, Siron sprang up as if shocked; Baekgyeong propped his chin on his hand and drew in a hiss of breath.

“Not my thing. Man, Lewis talks way too much.”

Siron scrubbed the moisture at his lashes away with his fist and killed the video. Any wish he’d had to share something with Baekgyeong scattered like sand slipping through his palm. He only scrolled down Twiver with a cold face and no words. Watching his mood, Baekgyeong asked:

“Are you mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, come on. I was joking.”

Finding a sulking Siron adorable, Baekgyeong gently took his chin and tried to turn his face toward him. Siron knocked his hand away and glared.

“God, this pisses me off. Unbelievable. If I tell you I like something, can’t you just watch it? I want to share good things and feel the same feelings! You asshole! You’re so damn annoying!”

Siron’s way of jumping straight from one to ten with no buffer and ramming head-on left Baekgyeong dumbfounded.

“Are you crazy? Is this really something to get that pissed about?”

“Yes! I’m fucking pissed! You ignore the webpages I send because it’s a hassle, you keep sneering at the movies I like, and when I send you an mp3 because the lyrics feel like us, you don’t even download it! You’re like that about everything!”

Baekgyeong’s mouth slowly fell open. He had only been being snide because he couldn’t stand watching that brief acquaintance Lewis act—but now the whole past was dragged back onto the cutting board. Instead of making excuses, Baekgyeong sighed and nodded seriously.

“Fine. I’ll watch and listen and chew and taste it all, okay?”

“And finish the songs. Can’t you sit through a measly three-minute track with me?”

“No way. I did that?”

“More than once or twice. Like over fifty times. You told me it was noisy and to turn it off right now.”

Once the floodgate opened, the feelings Siron had piled up against Baekgyeong spilled out like a river bursting through a broken dam. It was clear the Baekgyeong of the past and the Baekgyeong of now were completely different men. If it were now, he would have gratefully lapped up any attention Siron gave him.

Flicking his bangs up with his fingers, Baekgyeong answered with a pretty surly face.

“Ha. Got it. I’ll lick up everything you give me down to the crumbs and ruminate on it like a cow, all right?”

“You should’ve done that from the start!”

Watching Siron fool around so freely with him, Baekgyeong let out a long breath.

“Haah, Yoon Siron. You’re getting spoiled. What am I going to do with you?”

“It’s not being spoiled. It’s a man’s righteous indignation.”

Siron corrected him crisply, enunciating each word.

“Right. A man’s righteous indignation. Scary as hell.”

It was ridiculous, but at the same time Siron was unbearably cute; Baekgyeong crushed him in a tight hug, bit his cheek, and sucked his cheek fat into his mouth.

Siron still hadn’t cooled off, but he left Baekgyeong to his nibbling and fussing and scrolled up again. Private Norman Enderson, dead before he could even be carried away on the stretcher because he’d talked too much, filled the laptop screen.

Thanks to Baekgyeong’s bullshit, the moving feeling he’d had for the drama had ebbed away like the tide. Truth be told, Siron himself had been thinking it took too long to confess love in the middle of a battlefield raining shells and bullets.

But when he replayed the clip, Siron was quickly drawn back into Norman’s world. Watching the screen and Siron’s profile by turns, Baekgyeong asked:

“Sad?”

Siron nodded slowly.

“If I meet him again... I think I’ll really be happy.”

Baekgyeong didn’t think Siron would ever see Lewis again. Lewis and Anna had gone sniffing after a secret Hybris wanted hidden and, stupidly, got their tails stepped on. When he thought that because of them Siron had been kidnapped to the island, it felt like he could grind the McCarthy siblings up and drink them and it still wouldn’t be enough.

He’s probably dead.

Hybris had no reason whatsoever to keep a troublesome man like Lewis alive. Besides, he had X-type syndrome, with an autonomic nervous system in a state of extreme activation. It meant he could drop dead at any time.

Even knowing it was meaningless to be jealous of a dead man, Baekgyeong still hated, to the point of being unable to stand it, that Siron held another man in his heart.

“Forget him. You’re not going to see him again anyway.”

Feeling Siron’s shoulders go rigid under his hand, Baekgyeong added:

“You only knew each other a few weeks. He’s just one of the people who brushed past. Don’t make it into something.”

Siron seemed to be taking him seriously. Staring in silence at Norman’s face on the ended clip, he suddenly blurted something out.

“I slept with Lewis.”

“What the fuck?”

Baekgyeong shot to his feet and glared daggers at Siron. Siron bit his lip hard, regretting the words he’d blurted out. He rolled his eyes, looking like even he didn’t know why he’d come out and told the truth about Lewis.

“You two had sex?”

“I—it was during rut.”

“You had a suppressant!”

“I took it in advance, as a preventive. It... it wasn’t that effective.”

Under the scorching, furious look that felt like it could burn him up, Siron hunched his shoulders as if it couldn’t be helped and answered.

“So it just... happened with Lewis.”

“Oh, so it ‘just happened’ you fucked that bastard Lewis, and it ‘just happened’ with Isaac too? As long as it’s an unavoidable situation, it’s fine? As long as they spew pheromones, anyone will do? Do you not have any goddamn fidelity?”

“Why do you have to say it like that? It’s not ‘anyone’!”

“Then what is Lewis?”

A dangerous flush rose over Siron’s face. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slid slowly down his temple.

“...Lewis isn’t just anyone.”

Baekgyeong pressed his palm to his forehead. Siron didn’t lie to make things easier for him. He talked straight. How seriously was he supposed to take this?

“So what—you’re saying Lewis is someone special to you?”

Looking like he wanted someone else to hand him the answer because he wasn’t sure himself, Siron’s expression gradually settled and hardened. Breathing in shallow pants, he wiped the sweat at his jaw with the back of his hand without thinking.

“Yeah. I’m saying it wasn’t some brush of sleeves.”

“Ha, Yoon Siron.”

Roughly pushing back the hair that had fallen across his forehead, Baekgyeong said:

“It’s the pheromones. There’s no need to make it mean anything.”

Siron didn’t answer. He looked like he had words he was holding down. Just as Baekgyeong was about to probe the meaning of his silence, the door swung open and Isaac appeared, both hands loaded with shopping bags.

The tension pooled between the two of them scattered in an instant. Isaac drew a light breath and glared at Baekgyeong. Only then did Baekgyeong realize he’d been blasting aggressive pheromones.

“Let’s have lunch.”

It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Forcing his rage down at last, Baekgyeong took some of the bags from Isaac and headed straight for the kitchen. Watching Baekgyeong roughly start setting out the food he’d brought, Isaac asked Siron:

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.”

Siron shook his head. He already regretted saying something needless to Baekgyeong.

And yet anger still boiled up. The two of them were not dating. In fact, they had never once been in a relationship. If Siron wanted to, he could be with someone else any time. Feeling guilty because of Baekgyeong felt a bit unfair.

Because of what had just happened, dinner was awkward in the extreme. The menu Isaac had bought was pizza—a high-calorie mass buried in cheese and pepperoni. They spread two extra-large pies across the table and ate in grim silence. With no way to know what might happen next, they had to eat hearty while they could.

After downing four slices bigger than his palm, Siron got up and rummaged through the shopping bags Isaac had brought. Inside were Isaac’s suit for the charity party, contact lenses, silicone and adhesive, and items that, at a glance, looked like makeup tools.

The charity party was only two days away—Saturday. They had made a very simple plan. Siron and Isaac would use a bit of disguise to infiltrate the Elm Hotel, where the event would be held. Baekgyeong, whose face had been blasted across the news recently because of the missing-persons coverage, would wait in the hotel’s underground parking garage.

Seeing the items made Siron’s heart race. Even during his acting days, he’d never taken a spy role; now he was going to do an infiltration in real life. Relishing the thrill, he lined the makeup tools up on the table.

“Wow, these really look like capillaries. Do I just lay them on my cheeks?”

Holding a little piece of prosthetic skin sealed in clear plastic, Siron asked in fascination.

“Isaac, can you do special effects makeup too?”

“I cannot.”

“Pardon?”

“Infiltration is not my specialty. I was a soldier, not an intelligence officer.”

Looking flustered, Siron glanced between Isaac and the silicone nose piece with the lifelike thread of capillaries. With a trace of amusement in his eyes, Isaac smiled at him.

“Here.”

Isaac pulled a large book from the bag and handed it to Siron. The title was The World of Practical Special Effects Makeup.

“Learn it. In two days.”

“...Me?”

Isaac nodded. Siron stared at him with a that-can’t-be-real face, but Isaac didn’t look like he intended to retract the idea.