MYFL | Chapter 3.5

Beomjin’s brows twitched in clear annoyance at the response. He shot Beomchan a look as if questioning whether he had really just said that and threw the words right back at him.

“What the hell?”

“I mean… why are you here without even calling first?”

The age gap between them wasn’t that big, yet even now, as an adult, Beomchan still felt intimidated whenever they ran into each other like this.

Maybe it was because he had practically been raised by Beomjin in their parents’ place. And it wasn’t just that—Beomjin was the complete opposite of him.

Rigid, inflexible, and absolutely intolerant of anything remotely disrespectful or impolite.

Just thinking about how strict he had been about manners sent a shiver down Beomchan’s spine. But despite how strict he was, he was still his brother.

Like any siblings, they argued, and more often than not, those arguments escalated into full-on fights.

Of course, Beomchan had never actually won any of them.

Still, that didn’t mean they had a bad relationship.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud, whenever Beomchan needed help, Beomjin was the first person he turned to—right after their parents.

He always grumbled and complained about it, but in the end, he helped out like it was his own problem.

Looking back, not much had changed. Even as adults, their dynamic still felt the same as when they were kids.

“Look at this mess.”

Beomjin clicked his tongue as he pushed past Beomchan and stepped into the house, taking off his shoes at the entrance. Beomchan glared at the back of his head with a disgruntled expression before shutting the door and following him inside.

“Why are you here? I have plans soon.”

“You think I came here because I wanted to?”

Beomjin shot a look of disgust at the pile of stuff Beomchan had hastily shoved against the wall.

Feeling a bit wronged, Beomchan took a good look around his place.

…Okay, maybe it was a bit messy.

It wasn’t normally this bad, but he had rushed to get ready before Seungjae’s arrival, so there hadn’t been time to tidy up.

“I told you I have plans. I was getting ready, that’s why—wait, why is this even here…?”

Muttering excuses, Beomchan started picking up the scattered items from the floor.

Another tsk came from ahead.

Feeling awkward, Beomchan rubbed his cheek before straightening up.

“What’s that?”

He finally noticed the envelope Beomjin was holding.

Without much interest, Beomjin placed the black bag on the counter next to the sink and gave a short explanation.

“Grandpa sent chamoe.”

Their grandfather, who lived in the countryside, often sent them seasonal produce from his farm or fruit he got from the neighbors. Thanks to that, they had never once gone without fresh fruit growing up.

“There are five more boxes at home.”

Beomjin shook his head, looking thoroughly fed up.

“How do Mom and Dad expect to eat all that by themselves?”

“I dunno. They’ll probably share it with people.”

Having lived in the same neighborhood for ages, they knew just about everyone around. That was also why Beomchan had been able to move out so easily—there was always someone looking out for them.

He grabbed the bag’s handle to put the chamoe away when—

Knock, knock.

Another knock at the front door. This time, it was quiet and polite.

Beomchan didn’t exactly want to answer with Beomjin here, but he couldn’t just leave them waiting.

“Teacher.”

The moment he opened the door and saw Seungjae, his face instantly lit up.

“You could’ve called. I would’ve come down.”

“I did call. You didn’t answer.”

“Oh…”

Beomchan patted down his hoodie pocket, then his pants pocket, but found nothing.

Had he left his phone on the dining table? He must’ve missed the call while talking to Beomjin.

Just then, a voice called from inside the house.

“Who is it?”

It was Beomjin.

Seungjae’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed slightly in realization.

“…Am I interrupting something?”

“Huh?”

Following Seungjae’s gaze over his shoulder, Beomchan turned his head.

Beomjin wasn’t in view, but it was clear Seungjae had misunderstood something from the voice he had just heard.

Realizing what he meant, Beomchan practically jumped in place, yelling, “It’s not like that!”

Seungjae, who had never seen Beomchan get this openly flustered before, chuckled in amusement.

Then, still smiling, he tried to soothe him.

“Alright, alright. If you say so. No need to get all worked up about it.”

Beomchan opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.

There was no way to properly explain this situation.

In the end, he just let out a deep sigh, then slipped his feet properly into his slippers before stepping out.

He shut the door behind him and gestured for Seungjae to go first as they left the rooftop.

“He’s my older brother,” Beomchan said as they descended the stairs.

“You have a brother?”

“Do you not remember? You started tutoring me because one of his friends introduced you.”

Beomchan tilted his head, slightly surprised.

Then again, if even he hadn’t remembered right away, it made sense that Seungjae—who had only been the middleman in the whole thing—had forgotten.

“Now that you mention it… Maybe? It’s been so long, I barely remember. I don’t think I ever met him, though.”

“No, probably not.”

Even if they hadn’t interacted directly, since they had mutual acquaintances, there was a chance they had at least exchanged greetings in passing.

But knowing Seungjae’s personality, if that had happened, he definitely would have brought it up during their tutoring sessions—probably something like, You don’t look alike at all or Wow, you two really are siblings, huh?

And since there were no memories like that, the most likely scenario was that they had simply never run into each other.

Beomchan hoped that was the case.

Beomjin was an alpha, just like him.

Even if it meant nothing, just imagining them casually chatting together made his stomach churn.

Beomchan quickly arrived in front of the dojo. After unlocking the door lock and stepping inside, he told Seungjae to wait for a moment before heading toward the office. It didn’t take long before he returned, holding a sketchbook in his hand.

“Sorry for the hassle on your day off,” Seungjae said as he received the sketchbook.

“It’s a required supply for Monday, so he absolutely has to bring it. You really should keep better track of these things.”

“It’s fine. The house is just downstairs. Is Woojoo there?”

“Yeah, he’s coloring something again.”

At that, the drawing he had unintentionally seen yesterday flashed through Beomchan’s mind. Worried that his expression might give something away, he deliberately responded in a bright tone.

“Oh, so he wants to be a painter now, huh?”

“I’ll head down then. Yeonji’s alone. Ah, do you want me to bring up some coffee? I can get one for you and Hyung.”

“No, it’s okay. Hyung doesn’t drink coffee much.”

As if. Back when he was studying hard, he used to down four or five cups a day like a caffeine addict.

“Alright then, go on.”

“Yeah.”

After parting ways with Seungjae, Beomchan immediately went back upstairs. As he climbed the stairs, he wiped all expression from his face, trying to act as if nothing had happened. But his efforts were pointless.

As soon as he stepped inside, Beomjin muttered loud enough for him to hear.

“That name sounds familiar.”

What was he talking about?

That’s when Beomchan saw it. The phone that should have been on the table was in Beomjin’s hand. His brows furrowed sharply as he strode forward and snatched the phone away.

“Ah, why are you looking at someone else’s stuff?!”

Beomchan’s voice rose in frustration. The screen displayed a missed call from Seungjae. Normally, he wouldn’t care if someone looked at his phone or not. But not this time.

He didn’t want Beomjin to be reminded of Seungjae’s existence.

Because Beomjin knew exactly how much of a mess he had been because of him.

It was embarrassing. Even after all these years, he was still stuck in the same place, like nothing had changed.

“Why is he here?”

At the persistent question, Beomchan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in irritation.

“Ha…”

It was always like this.

He never let anything slide.

Even eight years ago.

Back then, was it heartbreak? Or just being ignored? He couldn’t even define how it had ended.

But Beomjin had dragged his nineteen-year-old feelings into the light, laying them bare.

Sure, it helped him face reality fast, but there was one thing Beomjin had overlooked—

Not everyone is as rational and calculated as he is.

Nineteen-year-old Beomchan was miserable even after realizing the truth.

He knew it was something he had to move on from, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

And Beomjin had called that pathetic.

“Kwon Beomchan.”

“…It was just a coincidence.”

“Since when?”

“Not long ago.”

Beomchan brushed it off. He didn’t give any clear answers.

Beomjin’s stare demanded further explanation.

Beomchan knew from countless experiences that when his brother made that face, he would keep digging like a hound until he got what he wanted.

Eventually, Beomchan gave up with a sigh. He pulled out a chair and sat down, finally telling the story.

That running into Seungjae again had been pure coincidence.

That before then, he hadn’t heard from him at all—didn’t even know where or how he was living.

Beomjin, who rarely ever showed surprise, visibly reacted when he heard that Seungjae had a kid.

“You’re teaching his kid. That’s cruel, don’t you think?”

Beomchan let out a bitter smile and dropped his head.

He felt strange.

Maybe it was because, for the first time, he had told someone else about something he had only ever kept to himself. When he had mulled it over alone, he thought he was fine. But the moment he spoke it out loud, it felt like nothing but sorrow. It made him painfully aware of just how pathetic his situation must look in the eyes of others.

He could say with certainty that not even once had he resented Woojoo while teaching him. But there had been countless times when the situation itself had made things unbearable. Because of the unavoidable nature of their relationship, where he couldn’t help but see glimpses of Seungjae’s family life, for the first time, Beomchan regretted choosing this job.