INT Ch 3.2

Perhaps he thought Haewon’s silence stemmed from the fear of nearly being assaulted, so he added more to his statement. His voice was persuasive. Even though I couldn’t recall exactly what he said, there was a sense of trust because it was Hyun Woojin speaking.

His compelling voice reminded me of the things he had said to me. Hyun Woojin had insulted Haewon without a second thought. He must have done the same to Taeshin. So, he likely assumed he could treat me, his friend, the same way.

To him, Haewon belonged to the category of people he could treat as carelessly as he had with Taeshin. It wasn’t a good idea to have involved him in this. Just as I knew his hidden secrets, he now knew Haewon’s private life.

“Where did you say your home was?”

“……”

Since he had cut off Lee Jinyeong like that, he was now left without another place to go. I should have just accepted that watch. Maybe I should have gone along with what Hyun Woojin suggested, just once. Then he’d be happy, and I’d still have somewhere to stay.

“That person earlier said something strange.”

At Hyun Woojin’s words, Haewon turned his head. His right hand was gripping the steering wheel while his left rested against the window, fingers running through his hair and touching his forehead. As he looked ahead, he briefly glanced at Haewon.

“Moon Haewon said he toyed with him.”

“……”

“He said he took in a runaway college student but didn’t get anything out of it in return, that he was playing hard to get.”

“……”

“Aren’t you twenty-nine? Taeshin’s friend, right?”

“He’s twenty-eight. Taeshin was a year above me, so I just called him casually.”

“Is there much difference between twenty-eight and twenty-nine? A person almost thirty is trying to pass off as a college student – do you really think you look that young?”

He stared intently at Haewon’s face, assessing him before turning his gaze back forward.

“You do look young.”

He muttered to himself. His questions were veering into strange territory.

“Do you have nowhere else to go?”

“No.”

“Then why were you staying in that guy’s house? Did you want to toy with someone?”

“I was there because I had nowhere to go.”

“But you just said you have somewhere.”

“I do. I just didn’t want to go there.”

“If you have somewhere, why stay there? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be around people who act without thinking or calculating consequences?”

I wanted to ask if he was staying in that house, playing the role of son-in-law, because he calculated everything well and his fiancée ended up dying. But that wasn’t my place to interfere, nor his to interfere with me. Maybe he was treating Haewon so carelessly because he was Taeshin’s friend or because he knew Haewon had nearly suffered something terrible at the hands of a man. His choice of words with Haewon kept teetering on the edge, as if waiting to cross the line, testing my patience.

“There was no one else to contact. Thank you for helping.”

Haewon politely told him not to cross the line, then gave him the address of the officetel, which may now have been transferred to his six-year-old half-sibling’s name. His car made a left turn at the intersection.

“It’s quite sudden, asking this from someone you hardly know. Couldn’t you have at least contacted me in advance?”

“Your business card just came to mind at that moment.”

“It’s been a while since I gave you that card. Did you just think of it at the police station?”

“Was I supposed to call and thank you for the card the very next day, like Taeshin?”

“……”

Haewon knew about the relationship between Taeshin and him. He didn’t want to listen, but Taeshin wouldn’t stop talking. Hyun Woojin fell silent, as if caught off guard by an attack he hadn’t expected. He simply continued driving quietly, just as Haewon wanted. Haewon fixed his gaze on the road, pleased that he’d managed to silence him.

In front of the officetel, the car came to a stop. Haewon took off his jacket and handed it back to him. He accepted his jacket and began putting his arms through it.

“I went too far with my words earlier. I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

“What misunderstanding? That guys who enjoy spreading their legs to other men hang out with each other?”

“……”

He viewed Haewon as no different from Taeshin – a runaway college student mooching off a stranger, refusing to give him what he wanted, and nearly getting into a mess because of it, with nowhere else to turn but a stranger whose business card he had received out of courtesy a month ago.

He licked his lower lip, revealing a flash of that lurid red. It was past five in the morning, approaching half-past five. The sun had yet to rise. The early dawn was especially dark, the last moment to shift before everyone awoke. The streets were devoid of even shadows, with everything deeply asleep in the tranquility of dawn.

Looking at Haewon with a conflicted gaze, he asked, “Did Taeshin tell you?”

“Do you know why I disliked Lee Taeshin?”

“……”

“Because when he called me, he would spill every bit of his private life, which I didn’t care to hear. I hated it. But it seems listening to him had its benefits – seeing you apologize.”

“How much do you know?”

“Why are you curious about how much I know?”

“It seems you’re misunderstanding something.”

“What misunderstanding? You were the one who told someone nearly assaulted to just go along with it. I’m not misunderstanding anything.”

Haewon was merely repeating what he’d heard and seen.

“So, how much do you know?”

“Why are you curious about how much I know?”

“How much do you know?”

“Why should I tell you that? Are you asking as if I’m one of your subordinates, requesting a report?”

“That makes me want to break your fingers.”

“…”

“At least pretend to listen when someone talks to you.”

His hand lightly tapped Haewon’s cheek. Just as the hand that had wrapped around Haewon’s shoulder was warm, the one that touched his face and withdrew was warm, too. And it was soft.

Yet, it was the first time he felt threatened this way. Just a slight touch on his cheek, but Haewon’s heart sank. He hadn’t felt this chill even when Lee Jinyeong had tried to break his fingers.

At that moment, Haewon realized that if he stepped out of the car and tried to head to his apartment, he wouldn’t be allowed to do so. It was as if Hyun Woojin could read every thought in his head. When Woojin shifted the gear into park, the lock clicked back in place.

His hand held the steering wheel, sealing off Haewon’s escape as he pressed the lock on the door panel. Woojin’s well-groomed face wore a gentle smile, a smile as sharp as a razor. In a polite tone, he asked a question as if it were Haewon’s last chance.

“How much do you know?”

“More than you think.”

“Could you be specific?”

“You barely know me, yet you’re asking such rude questions. You should’ve asked earlier.”

“You’re misunderstanding me.”

“What’s there to misunderstand?”

All Haewon did was see what was visible and hear what was audible. There was nothing that could lead to any misunderstanding between them. Woojin’s words, however, implied there was room for misunderstanding between him and Taeshin, and Woojin seemed to assume Haewon knew what had passed between him and Taeshin.

“Are you thinking that I toyed with Taeshin?”

“…”

“I didn’t toy with Taeshin. I told you earlier—reckless people who don’t think ahead are dangerous. Taeshin was one of those people: overly innocent, straightforward, to the point it felt burdensome.”

“So you pitied him and slept with him once?”

“…”

Woojin’s eyebrow twitched as Haewon’s knowledge remained an unknown quantity to him. His expression turned cold as he realized Haewon might know everything he wished Haewon didn’t. His chest slowly rose and fell as he took a deep breath.

Hyun Woojin was handsome, both objectively and subjectively. His voice suited his looks, and his appearance matched his status. His tightly closed lips and inscrutable expression conveyed a silent, sharp tension that seemed to warn Haewon he could end up hurt if he wasn’t careful. His presence had a way of unsettling people, making them nervous.

Had Haewon not known about his history with Taeshin, he might have considered him attractive enough to want to share a bed with him. People who evoke desire are often the calmest of all. But right now, Woojin didn’t look calm; he looked uncomfortable, and Haewon was aware he was the source of Woojin’s discomfort.

“Did Taeshin say something to you?”

“What difference does it make what Taeshin said? The important thing is what you thought of him, isn’t it?”

“I’m asking because I don’t think you believe what I said. I told you that’s not how I thought of him.”

“Why does it matter whether I believe you or not?”

He was persistently asking, as though it mattered what Haewon—a guy who almost got assaulted by another man—thought of someone like him.

Woojin turned fully towards Haewon, his sharp gaze fixed on him.

“Because I picked up a 28-year-old who lied about being a college student, saved him from attempted murder charges after he messed around with some idiot, and then kindly drove him back home without so much as a thank-you, only to have him treat me like a villain and misjudge me. And all this before dawn, after I was woken from my sleep.”

“…”

“So whether it was pity or whatever, I meant it at the time. People as kind as I am aren’t common.”

“…”

At Taeshin’s funeral, Woojin had seemed sincere. He had expressed a desire to understand why Taeshin had taken his own life, believing that only knowing could ease his guilt for missing his call. Haewon hadn’t thought that Woojin was playing with Taeshin’s feelings. Perhaps he had hugged him once because he pitied him, because he found him fragile.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“…”

Woojin’s claim to kindness was evidenced by his taking Haewon’s late-night call without ignoring it, by coming to his aid without hesitation. Even though they weren’t close, though it took a moment for Woojin to even recognize his name, he had come immediately.

And he had pulled Haewon out of trouble, threatening Lee Jinyeong to settle matters, knowing Haewon had no money, nowhere else to go but this apartment that was now possibly under his six-year-old half-sibling’s name. Haewon had nothing that Woojin wanted. In response to Woojin’s persistent stare, he finally replied.

“…I can’t exactly call up the dead and ask, so if you say so, I guess I’ll believe it.”

At Taeshin’s funeral, Woojin’s expression had been one of subdued sadness. When he had bowed his head before Taeshin’s portrait, that gesture had been genuine.

The hand on Haewon’s shoulder had been warm. A man with warm hands wasn’t a bad person. Warm hands meant a warm heart. It was a rule, a logic, a fact.

As he claimed to be kind, perhaps he was still acting as the dutiful son-in-law to his deceased fiancée’s family out of guilt and responsibility. Sunbae had called it ambition, but with his fiancée gone, there was no ambition to pursue in the Hwangkyung Group. Perhaps he went about his life casually, sometimes taking women to hotels, sometimes sleeping with vulnerable men, just going with the flow.

Because he was kind—far too kind.

“If you’re that kind twice, that could be a problem.”

“Is this the place where you live? You stayed at that guy’s house because you had nowhere to go?”

Woojin suddenly leaned over, peering past Haewon at the apartment building outside the car window. Haewon flinched. Woojin’s lips momentarily curved in a slight, mocking smile.

Woojin’s hand rested on the passenger seat’s backrest as he leaned so close their cheeks almost touched. He looked up at the dark apartment building outside. Haewon carefully shifted to the side, giving him a better view through the window.

“Yes, this is the place.”

“Let’s go up together. I need to see for myself,” he insisted.

“That’s not necessary. Just bringing me here was enough. Thank you for helping me today,” Haewon replied.

“I’m not leaving until I see for myself. How am I supposed to trust someone who lied about his age, claiming to be a college student? The police didn’t release you just like that. I vouched for you.”

“…”

Woojin seemed deeply affected by the fact that Haewon had deceived him about his age, or maybe he was deliberately trying to make him uncomfortable. He brought it up every chance he got.

Reluctantly, Haewon got out of the car with him.

He hadn’t been to the studio apartment in weeks. Technically, it belonged to his six-year-old half-brother. Haewon’s father would never let a property like this sit empty; he’d either rent it out or sell it, especially in the heart of Seoul where prices were high. Knowing that Woojin vouched for him, Haewon couldn’t come up with any more excuses to refuse him. Slinging his violin over his shoulder, he entered the elevator with Woojin.

He pressed 22. It was so late that the elevator didn’t stop on any other floor, taking them straight up.

They arrived at the 22nd floor. Woojin walked behind Haewon, his footsteps echoing ominously down the hallway. Haewon stopped in front of unit 2205.

“This is it. You can go now.”

“Open the door. I’ll leave once I see you go inside.”

“I don’t want to show you the passcode.”

“I don’t care about that. Just open it.”

Woojin laughed as if Haewon’s reluctance was absurd. It was six in the morning. Like Haewon, he’d been up all night after coming to his aid at the police station. His eyes looked tired.

“I’m fine, really. Just head back. You must be exhausted,” Haewon urged.

“If you keep talking, I’m going to get really tired, so just open the door.”

“…”

If Haewon kept resisting, it seemed Woojin would just break the door down himself. Left with no other choice, Haewon punched in the code. It was the same as before. If someone else had moved in, they would have changed the code, and if he entered it incorrectly three times, an alarm would go off. Even though Woojin had vouched for him, here Haewon was, trying to enter a place that technically belonged to someone else, right in front of him.

Making sure Woojin was looking away, Haewon carefully entered the code.

86522…

When he pressed the final key, the lock clicked, and the door opened.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized until now that his back was damp with sweat. His stepmother and father hadn’t tampered with the place, it seemed. He opened the door and said, “Now, please go.”

“Go inside.”

“I’ll go in once you leave.”

“Go in first.”

To Woojin, Haewon was someone he’d personally vouched for, so it was natural he’d want to be sure. Haewon stepped inside, releasing his hand from the door handle, and the door started to close. Just as it was about to shut, Woojin stopped it, pulled it open, and came in without a word.

The apartment was just as Haewon had left it. No one had come by, and dust had settled on the shelves. Ignoring Haewon, Woojin went in ahead, still wearing his shoes.

He moved around the place as if inspecting it, like a police officer checking for intruders. His footsteps left marks on the living room floor. After thoroughly checking every possible hiding spot, even lifting the curtains by the window, he finally turned back to Haewon, standing by the entryway in bewilderment.

“There’s no one here.”

“Of course, there isn’t.”

“Seems my expectations were off.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I thought that someone carrying around a multi-million won violin wouldn’t be hiding out in someone else’s home just because they didn’t have money. I assumed you were running from someone. Standing out there at the door, unable to enter, I thought… maybe that guy was inside.”

“…‘That guy’?”

“Someone like you not having a lover would be stranger, wouldn’t it?”

“Someone like me?”

Haewon wanted to ask him exactly what he meant by “someone like me.” As if he were the type to sleep around.

“Yes. Someone like you. You went as far as nearly breaking someone’s fingers after just a few days together. Who’d leave you alone?”

“…”

Haewon had left because Kim Jaemin had barged into his apartment in the first place. Woojin’s words made sense. He had abandoned his space because of someone he didn’t want there. That’s what led to the apartment being transferred to his half-brother’s name.

“Only a fool would ignore that.”

“Thank you for your help today.”

“Always changing the subject, aren’t you?”

Woojin was crossing a boundary, and Haewon was pushing back. He was toying with him.

Woojin looked at Haewon with a neutral expression. But it wasn’t the same as before. There was a predatory gleam in his eyes, a restrained violence hidden beneath. From the moment Haewon mentioned his involvement with Taeshin, Woojin’s gaze had changed.

“Are you doing this because you’re curious about what Taeshin said to me? Or is it…”

“Or is it…?”

“Or are you just that shameless to be coming on to someone who nearly got assaulted today?”

Yes, Haewon had almost been hurt. Lee Jinyeong had tried to break his fingers, and in self-defense, he jabbed at his eye with a sharp crystal pendant. He aimed for his eye, and he hit it directly.

“Not really curious about what Taeshin said. I’m sure it was all good things. After all, he always saw me in a positive light.”

“……”

He was right. Taeshin had only said good things about him—almost to the point where it was annoying to listen. A charming voice, a handsome face, tall with a superbly proportioned body. As he recalled this, looking at the man’s broad chest in front of him, he suddenly thought that perhaps Taeshin, a sculpture major, had been drawn to the physical contours of that body.

“If it were me, I would have done it today.”

“…….”

“Instead of thinking of some crude idea like breaking a musician’s fingers, I would have done it today.”

He looked at him, unsure what exactly he meant by “doing it today.” The man was staring at Haewon’s shirt, buttoned incorrectly in a rush, as if the buttons had been nearly torn off. Haewon was neither covering himself nor fully exposed.

“I don’t like things like that.”

Haewon mumbled. Hyun Woojin tilted his head and leaned closer, feigning confusion as he tried to hear Haewon’s softly spoken words.

“Things like what? Breaking fingers?”

Hyun Woojin’s voice grew softer, as though he were murmuring a secret close to Haewon’s face. Haewon shook his head.

“No.”

His lips curved into an amused smile.

“Then, what don’t you like?”

“Taking another man from a friend.”

“…….”

His eyes were close, unwavering and unkind. Something stirred within them—wild yet calm.

Haewon opened the door and stepped aside, asking him to leave. He glanced down at Haewon in silence before stepping out of the studio apartment.

∞ ∞ ∞

Haewon discarded his torn clothes in the trash bin, including his pants and underwear. He showered and changed into pajamas. Drawing the curtain over the living room window, where the sun was faintly rising, he collapsed onto the bed.

A deep, exhausted sleep washed over him. Haewon slept undisturbed until around three in the afternoon, only waking when his phone rang.

He hated his father and stepmother, but he was grateful they’d left this studio apartment alone. Haewon sat up in bed, buried under a thick goose-down comforter.

The bed, like his violin, was a luxury item in this place. Made entirely from natural materials by a master craftsman, it was as soft as sleeping on a cloud, like the mattresses supplied to Swedish royalty.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stretched out his entire body and slept deeply like this. Haewon, who had slept soundly, forgetting even what he’d done the night before, stretched lazily and reached for his phone on the side table.

“…….”

An unknown number, yet strangely familiar.

It was the number Haewon had called from the cold cell last night after reading the business card. Seeing the missed call notification, he stared at the screen, then, just as he was about to lie back down, the phone rang again. This wasn’t someone he could avoid or ignore. Haewon gave in and answered.

“Yes.”

―Just waking up?

“……Yes.”

The voice sounded like it was taunting him, as if to say he’d had a good, restful sleep after nearly killing someone.

―You’ll need to come out.

“Me?”

―You have to write a statement, among other things.

“Should I go to the police station?”

―It’s been forwarded to the prosecutor’s office, so come here.

“Now?”

―It’s just past three, so come by around five. Do you know where the central prosecutor’s office is?

“I’m sure a taxi driver will.”

―Come to Room 1014 in the main building.

After hanging up, Haewon flopped back onto the bed.

He thought back to his encounter with Hyun Woojin at the detention center in the early hours of the morning. His suit, without a tie, was slightly disheveled, and the winter chill clung to his hurriedly arrived figure.

He didn’t know what to think. It was exhausting to think at all, and he didn’t want to think. Taeshin liked him—this was someone Taeshin had once cared about. It felt wrong to ponder anything more about someone like that. Though he wanted to lazily spend the day on the bed, there wasn’t enough time.

Groaning, Haewon got up. As he ran his hand through his tousled hair, he noticed a distinct mark on his wrist. It was a bruise, as if someone had gripped him forcefully and then released him. He rotated his wrist gently, feeling a dull ache. The events of last night were real. Only now did Haewon’s hand, which had injured someone, begin to tremble slightly.

He hurried out of the studio apartment and caught a taxi. After about thirty minutes, the taxi stopped in front of Lee Jinyeong’s apartment.

“Please wait. I’ll be down soon. I’ll pay extra for the wait.”

He asked the driver to wait and got out of the taxi.

The apartment was a mess, left exactly as it had been the night before. Spots of dried blood had turned brown in various places. The police’s shoes had smeared the not-yet-dried blood around, leaving dried brown footprints all over the living room, creating a grotesque scene, like a crime scene from a violent case.

Haewon grabbed the half-packed suitcase he’d left there last night. The taxi driver, who had been waiting inside the car, saw Haewon with the suitcase, got out, and loaded it into the trunk. Haewon then returned to the studio apartment with his luggage. As he unpacked, he called his father.

―Lasted longer than I thought this time.

“Just leave the studio as it is. I’ll be staying here.”

―Don’t be like that.

He cut off his father’s attempt at nagging with a firm tone.

“You know it’s not reasonable to tell me to come home. I’m your son, too, not just Haejeong. Living with my stepmother is just too cruel, and I’ll never do it, not even if it kills me. If you don’t agree, I’ll sell my violin. I’ll quit music, too.”

He was proud of Haewon, a violinist. He still believed in the words of a young music student, believing Haewon had talent. He also knew that Haewon’s mother, who loved music, loved Haewon even more because of it.

Supporting Haewon was the only way his father could ease his guilt for failing Haewon’s biological mother and find a sense of redemption. After a long silence, his father, subdued after his son’s rebuke, asked in a somber tone.

— Stop by the office for a moment. I’ll give you a card.

“…No, that’s okay. My stepmother’s not wrong. I think it’s time I stop relying on you financially. I’ll just figure things out on my own.”

“I’ll keep my words to Haejung’s mother to myself, so don’t worry and take the card. You’re used to a certain way of living, and there’s no way to maintain that without it. People in the arts should only have to focus on their art, not the cost of living.”

His father was right. If making a living became difficult with music alone, he would inevitably turn to more practical work, and eventually lose touch with his art.

Making a living was crucial. Haewon, who could only play the violin, had limited options. Joining an orchestra or working as a soloist would be ideal, but with so many music graduates each year, vacancies were scarce, making the competition intense. Opportunities had come his way, but he’d lost them because he didn’t need them at the time.

After losing his mother, Haewon had abandoned both studying abroad and pursuing competitions, leaving him without a decent portfolio. Teaching was the only remaining option. Becoming a professor at any university was out of reach for Haewon, even if his father poured in money. As a freelancer, he barely received any contact for private lessons compared to symphony members, who often got more offers.

He knew seniors who ran private music schools near elementary schools and peers who gave private lessons to aspiring students. Teaching in middle and high schools was another option, but there was a mountain of paperwork to deal with, and even if he could manage it, Haewon lacked both the talent and patience for teaching.

The more he worried about making a living, the further he would drift from the world he pursued. Aware of this, Haewon shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear my stepmother complaining about me to you anymore. I don’t like being treated like a clueless child. Just don’t interfere. Leave my apartment alone. I really have nowhere else to go.”

He ended the call with his father, who urged him to reach out if things got tough. He knew he couldn’t rely on his father’s money forever. The shock and helplessness he felt when his father suddenly cut him off financially wasn’t something he wanted to experience again. If he’d had any capabilities of his own, he wouldn’t have gone to Lee Jinyeong’s home, nor would he have ended up hurting him.

Time passed quickly as he unpacked and cleaned. Hyun Woojin had told him to come by five, but the clock already read five. He took a shower and changed. Time was ticking away, but he didn’t rush.

Haewon put on his coat and gloves. Although he thought he hadn’t taken anything from Lee Jinyeong, he found a scarf among his belongings. He had said it complemented Haewon’s complexion. Wearing the scarf, Haewon stepped out of his apartment.

It was already six-thirty by the time the taxi arrived at the Prosecutor’s Office. He handed over his ID to get a visitor pass and made his way to Room 1014 in the main building. He knocked and entered. A woman, who appeared to be an administrative assistant, looked at him and asked,

“How may I help you?”

“Is Prosecutor Hyun Woojin here? I’m supposed to meet him today.”

“He stepped out for a moment. Please take a seat and wait.”

The office was structured with a separate room for the prosecutor’s workspace, apart from the spaces for the investigators and clerks. Through a small window in the door, Haewon could see a desk cluttered with paperwork, evidence of the intense workload.

He sat in the empty chair as directed. Even though work hours were over, the two clerks and the investigator continued with their tasks, focused on their work.

He waited quietly until the door opened, and Hyun Woojin entered. Haewon stood up as he checked his wristwatch, then looked at Haewon. Though he said nothing, it was clear he was noting Haewon’s tardiness.

Without a word, Hyun Woojin walked past him and opened his office door.

“Prosecutor, your visitor is here,” the clerk said, nodding toward Haewon.

“He’s not a visitor; he’s the suspect. Come in.”

Haewon followed him into the office. A large desk, with the window behind it, faced a meeting table. Piles of paperwork covered the desk, a testament to how busy a prosecutor’s life must be. Haewon couldn’t help but wonder if anyone could possibly read through all of it.

Hyun Woojin pushed aside his laptop and gestured for Haewon to sit at the desk.

“I’ve requested a lawyer I know to handle your statement and settlement. It’ll take a while.”

“How long?”

“Why, do you have other plans?”

“I’m just curious how long it will take.”

“Complicated cases can take over ten hours, but simple ones like this take about one or two. If you’d come at five, we could’ve finished the statement in two hours and gone out for dinner by seven, but since someone didn’t keep their appointment, I’ll do my best.”

He placed his hands on his laptop keyboard and began typing, immediately asking,

“Name?”

“…”

“What’s your name?”

“Moon Haewon.”

“Alright, Moon Haewon. Twenty-eight, trying to look like a college student.”

“…”

“Profession: freelance violinist?”

“Yes.”

The sound of him typing intermittently broke the silence. He continued his questions in a professional tone.

“When and how did you meet Lee Jinyeong?”

“A few weeks ago, in front of S Hotel.”

“Why did you go to S Hotel?”

“The issue with my apartment meant I stayed at the hotel.”

“When there’s a problem with your place, you stay at a hotel?”

“Yes.”

This question seemed more like a personal curiosity than something for the record, but I answered quickly regardless, eager to get this over with. Cooperating with him seemed the fastest way to end this.

“So why move from the hotel to Lee Jinyeong’s place? Nowhere else to stay, like your parents’ home?”

“I fought with my father, so staying with him wasn’t an option.”

“So, you’re saying you ran away and stayed with a stranger you just met?”

His tone was formal, void of judgment, making it hard to tell if the question was for the record or out of personal curiosity.

“I needed a place to stay, and he offered, so I accepted.”

“You told him you were a music student who had left home, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“What was your relationship? Were you dating? Or…”

“…”

“Or just sleeping together?”

“We weren’t anything.”

“Do you mean you didn’t have a sexual relationship?”

“Does that matter?”

“Sex is extremely relevant in cases like these. Determining whether this was a crime of passion or an accident largely depends on whether there was a sexual relationship.”

It was the season when the sun sets quickly, and darkness had already taken over outside, the city lights gleaming in the distance. My own reflection in the window mirrored my face and his silhouette in his white shirt. Haewon looked away from his reflection, meeting his gaze instead. Every time their eyes met, it felt as though something heavy rattled deep within him.

“We didn’t have sex, to my knowledge.”

“Don’t use vague language like ‘to my knowledge.’ Say you don’t remember clearly, if that’s the case.”

“I’m not sure what qualifies as ‘sex.'”

“Can I assume you didn’t have intercourse, but engaged in other intimate acts?”

“…”

Every conclusion seemed laced with insinuations about promiscuity, his wording harsh and offensive, as though mocking me under the guise of trying to clarify terms for someone like me who wasn’t familiar with legal language.

“So, no direct intercourse but an otherwise intimate relationship?”

“Yes.”

He typed something each time I answered, his fingers tapping out quick, steady notes that felt endless.

The thought of documenting terms like “sexual relations” and “passion” on official paperwork was unsettling. He flipped through a file on his desk before asking the next question.

“Did you ever receive any money or gifts from Lee Jinyeong?”

Avoiding eye contact, Haewon’s gaze had been fixed on the back of his laptop, but he looked up at that.

“According to his statement, he claims you extorted gifts from him.”

“I never extorted anything. I only accepted what he gave me as a gift.”

If it was indeed “extortion,” as Lee Jinyeong claimed, then Haewon was clutching the scarf—a “gift” he had supposedly taken by force. His fingers tightened around the scarf.

“So, you’re saying everything he gave you was voluntary?”

“I never asked him for anything.”

“The watch used on the day of the incident—are you saying he gifted that to you as well?”

“Yes.”

“He claims you were planning to leave that day with only the watch, and that a struggle broke out when he tried to stop you.”

“What?”

Haewon’s eyes widened. Although this was an unremarkable case, Hyun Woojin’s gaze was fixed intently on his face.

“That’s what his statement says.”

“No. I told him I felt uncomfortable with his excessive generosity and even suggested he return the watch. I never wanted to take it.”

This account contradicted everything he’d said the previous day. Hyun Woojin had assured him that the matter would be settled with an agreement, that Lee Jinyeong would be barred from contacting him again. But Haewon didn’t question the sudden change in the story. Shaking his head, he denied Lee Jinyeong’s statement.

“So, why did you pack up and try to leave on the same day you received the watch?”

“…”

I hadn’t expected this line of questioning. To an outsider, it could look exactly as it did to them: Haewon had received the watch that day and decided to leave with it. Haewon shook his head; that wasn’t the truth.

“He was overwhelming, so I wanted to leave. I wasn’t going to take the watch.”

“According to his evidence, he gave you quite a few expensive gifts. Weren’t you uncomfortable with those?”

“…”

He’d given Haewon many gifts in the past, some of considerable value. While none were as costly as the watch, they still weren’t cheap.

Haewon had often received gifts from others. People seemed to think they could win his affection with material things. So he’d grown indifferent to such gifts; if he liked something, he kept it; if he didn’t, he discarded it.

“So you accepted the previous gifts because they didn’t make you uncomfortable, but the watch was different?”

“It wasn’t quite that…”

“…Rather than that.”

Haewon hesitated, struggling to find words. It wasn’t the misrepresentation of events that made him frustrated, but rather how difficult it was to explain his feelings from that day. It wasn’t the expensive gift that felt burdensome—it was Lee Jinyeong himself.

Hyun Woojin didn’t rush him, simply watching him intently, as if silently urging him to speak openly and honestly.

“It just felt annoying.”

“You received such a costly watch as a gift, and you found the situation annoying?”

“Yes.”

It was something no one would believe. Lee Jinyeong’s statements were consistent and sounded logical, while Haewon’s words seemed like the babble of a child before Hyun Woojin. Haewon was beginning to sense how senseless his own statements might sound.

He had hidden his identity, entered the home of a man he barely knew, and lived with him for almost a month, sharing intimate physical contact just short of intercourse. He hadn’t rejected any of the gifts Lee Jinyeong offered. The scarf Jinyeong had given him was still resting on his lap. The notion that this watch, specifically, could feel burdensome seemed unlikely. Lee Jinyeong was painting Haewon as a con artist or a femme fatale. That was the role Haewon played in Jinyeong’s statement.

“What exactly made you feel annoyed? Be specific.”

“I couldn’t practice at his place, and being in that environment frustrated me. I also felt pressured because he kept giving me gifts I didn’t want and demanding emotional responses.”

“So you were annoyed because you couldn’t practice, and because he was pressuring you for emotions you didn’t feel. I see. You no longer wanted to maintain the relationship.”

Hyun Woojin seemed puzzled, as if he couldn’t quite understand or believe what he was hearing. He appeared to be mulling over how to write Haewon’s statements in a coherent, logical way for the report. After a moment’s thought, his hands moved quickly over the keyboard.

“So, Moon Haewon, you were planning to leave the house, and that’s what led to the argument?”

“He wouldn’t let me go.”

“Yes. That’s to be expected, of course.”

The sound of keys tapping was the only thing breaking the quiet in the office. A moment later, there was a knock on the door, and a staff member entered to announce their departure. Without looking up from his screen, Hyun Woojin nodded as a response, his fingers still moving briskly.

“During the struggle, Lee Jinyeong allegedly tore your clothes and attempted to sexually assault you, but when you didn’t stop resisting, he tried to break your fingers, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your fingers are extremely important to you, as a violinist. So you used the watch case to stab him in the eye to protect yourself?”

“…Yes.”

“Being a violinist, that makes perfect sense.”

At Haewon’s uncertain, quiet response, Woojin’s lips curled in a slight smile. It was a clear, mocking grin, as if he fully expected this to be the case.

“You still have the clothes that were torn by Lee Jinyeong, right?”

Haewon nodded. He had tossed them in the trash, so they were likely still there.

“Since there’s evidence of physical force on your wrist, let’s take a photo. It won’t require a full medical report.”

Standing up, Woojin motioned for Haewon to do the same. Haewon slowly rose from his chair, moving the scarf aside. Woojin took Haewon’s hand without warning, rolling up his sleeve to expose the red marks vividly imprinted on his wrist. Bringing his hands together to touch both wrists, Woojin took out his phone and photographed them.

“You have beautiful hands. Are all violinists’ hands like this?”

“….”

“Turn them over.”

This time, Haewon turned his wrists over and held them close together. Woojin gently pushed back the sleeve, taking several photos.

“Could this even serve as evidence?”

“I’m just taking these for my own amusement.”

“….”

“There is, of course, evidentiary value. It’s such a pity, marking up such pretty hands.”

Without a hint of embarrassment, Woojin made the flippant remark, expressionless as he continued writing Haewon’s statement.

After the office became completely quiet, Woojin didn’t ask Haewon any further questions. His assistant had left, and the only sound filling the room was Woojin’s calm, focused breathing and the steady tapping of his fingers as he wrote. Haewon sat there, staring blankly ahead.

After a long time, Woojin finished the report, printed it, and handed it to Haewon.

“Read it over and, if you have no corrections, place your fingerprint here and here.”

Though it hadn’t felt like a long conversation, the time had flown by. It was already past eight o’clock. Haewon carefully read through the printout. It was an organized, logical rebuttal of Lee Jinyeong’s statements, crafted from his own perspective. He found nothing to correct.

Following Woojin’s instructions, he pressed his fingerprint onto the document where indicated. Woojin handed him a tissue for his ink-stained thumb, and Haewon rubbed it clean. As Woojin gathered the paperwork, he spoke.

“Lee Jinyeong is refusing to settle.”

“That’s different from what I was told yesterday. I was told he had agreed, and that I wouldn’t have to see him again.”

You said that yourself, Haewon thought, recalling how Woojin had assured him he was skilled and capable. Haewon extended the crumpled tissue, and Woojin took it, throwing it into the wastebasket next to him.

“Lee Jinyeong wants to see you.”

“….”

“If you went and gently talked to him, he might be willing to listen. Would you go apologize for injuring his eye and try to ease things over a bit?”

“….”

“If he files a complaint, this could get complicated. There are a lot of things in this case that aren’t entirely visible, as you described.”

He had hidden his identity, stayed in his home for nearly a month, accepted expensive gifts, and then decided to leave on the day he received an extravagant watch. He found the man’s growing expectations burdensome and lacked the patience to tolerate his lifestyle. Unlike Hyun Woojin’s late fiancée, who had grown up without hardship, Haewon had little tolerance for changes in his environment’s quality.

“Regardless, once a complaint is filed, there will be an investigation, and it won’t be handled by me. No matter who takes the case, Lee Jinyeong’s claims are more convincing. This could become quite disadvantageous for you, Moon Haewon.”

“Then, what should I do?”

“It’s just whining over what he couldn’t get—just give him what he wants.”

“….”

“Then it’ll be over.”