L*st and Death

The festive atmosphere of the party had quieted down before anyone realized it. The cold night air crept beneath collars, and a dampness hung in the air, as if rain might fall at any moment.

The driver arrived at the restaurant parking lot, where the afterparty was held, ten minutes earlier than the agreed-upon 2 a.m. The limousine rented with his friends had reached the end of its rental time and been returned, and Siron was now planning to ride back to the mansion in the car Baekgyeong had sent for him.

Siron, who had already stepped outside, walked toward Baekgyeong’s Rolls-Royce in the calm stillness, not a breeze stirring the air. The party venue was still soaked in the lingering haze of prom night, but all Siron wanted was to go back to Baekgyeong’s mansion and collapse into sleep.

He scanned the interior of the car and couldn’t help but marvel at it all over again. Every single small part inside bore traces of Baekgyeong’s personal tastes and custom orders.

The seats were a soft white tinged with gray—a color that stained easily—yet they were spotless, flawlessly maintained. The ceiling sparkled like constellations on a summer night, and the mood lighting flowed in thin, gentle lines, like an aurora, casting a faint glow over the dark interior.

A luxury car chauffeured by a personal driver, taking him anywhere without obstacle—such was the life of luxury. In his 18 years of life, Siron had never met anyone who seemed to be born with everything like Baekgyeong.

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to stay in touch with at least one rich friend.

He’d once mocked Choi Seongmin’s shameless greed as he clung to Baekgyeong like a leech, fattening himself bit by bit. Yet here Siron was, without realizing it, already regretting that he’d have to part ways with his rich friend.

Siron wanted to ask the driver. Had Baekgyeong ever let someone like him stay at the mansion for this long? Had he ever taken in a stranger like a stray puppy? Had it happened before Siron?

But at the same time, he didn’t want to know the answer. If Baekgyeong’s kindness turned out to be nothing more than the idle amusement of a boy with too much, then the closeness Siron had felt would seem pathetically one-sided. Still, the smallness that had been quietly eating away at him the moment he entered the mansion vanished instantly.

Despite the late hour, the mansion was softly lit. A familiar piece of music, one that often drifted from the backyard, echoed through the night air, piercing the chill of dawn.

Baekgyeong was slumped over on the edge of the pool steps, one arm propped on the ledge. He looked like a boy who had cried himself to sleep. The sight gave Siron a strange feeling.

He was drawn in by the peculiar image and quietly approached. Crouching in front of Baekgyeong, Siron placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. Even though he must have sensed the presence, Baekgyeong didn’t stir.

“Get up. You’re supposed to sleep in bed.”

“I’m not asleep.”

Baekgyeong lifted his head, squinting at Siron with bleary eyes. He looked like a caveman recoiling from light, his posture hunched forward in discomfort.

“Sure looks like you were.”

Baekgyeong shook his head in denial.

“I’m sleepy, but... I didn’t fall asleep.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

“...I was waiting for you.”

Siron’s mouth fell open, stunned by the unexpected answer.

“Huh? Why me?”

“No reason. I just wanted to wait.”

“And why would you want to wait for me?”

“...God, do I need a reason to want something?”

Baekgyeong’s tone was slower than usual, tinged with drowsiness. He must have taken narcotic painkillers. Struggling against the haze of sleep, he whined like a child fighting bedtime.

“Ugh, so annoying.”

Siron clicked his tongue and flicked a bit of pool water into Baekgyeong’s face. His scowl deepened—but somehow, he didn’t seem frightening at all.

“Don’t come into the pool after taking meds. You could die like that.”

Siron’s warning bounced off Baekgyeong with no effect. As if mocking the concern, Baekgyeong let the water carry him and asked,

“Did you have fun?”

Siron had enjoyed prom so much he’d forgotten his earlier complaints. Afterward, they rode the limo through the quiet city streets, shouting along to whatever songs were trending. At the afterparty, he hung out with kids he’d never been close to before, as if he were meeting new friends. Thoughts of Baekgyeong had evaporated like mist.

Just a while ago, Baekgyeong had seemed like someone born with everything. But now, Siron couldn’t help but see him as someone exiled to a vast, empty mansion—hollow and alone. He hadn’t experienced school life properly. He couldn’t even enjoy prom, a once-in-a-lifetime event. Siron couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of isolation filled a life like that.

But Baekgyeong had been so long without family or friends that he didn’t even realize what was missing from his life. And that, Siron thought, was the saddest part.

“No. It wasn’t fun at all. They decorated the gym like crap, so it didn’t even feel like a party. And they kept playing country music, like, all the time, which sucked. There weren’t even any snacks—I thought I was gonna starve. I don’t even get why they charged so much for prom tickets.”

It was a lie. The prom had turned out surprisingly fun and even a little touching. It had felt like a true finale to his school life. Siron thought he’d remember tonight for a long time. But still, he lied.

“Someone mixed mouthwash into the punch bowl. It tasted disgusting.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m serious.”

“Hah, you’re so full of it.”

Baekgyeong chuckled and reached for the edge of the pool with one arm.

“Aren’t you cold? Shit, look at your hands—all pruney.”

Siron took Baekgyeong’s hand and examined it. His fingers were wrinkled and waterlogged from how long he’d been in. Just holding his cold hand made Siron shiver. Baekgyeong wore nothing but a pair of swim trunks, his skin bare.

“Come on out. You’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in there.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not. I’m tired. I need to sleep.”

But the hand Siron held out to pull Baekgyeong out of the pool turned out to be the very thing that dragged him in. He had no time to react before he was yanked into the water headfirst. The shock of the water overwhelmed his senses, leaving him breathless. Even after clinging to Baekgyeong and surfacing, he coughed for ages before he could breathe again. When he finally came to, he splashed Baekgyeong in a fury.

“Hey! Fuck, my tux is soaked! I told you to quit messing around!”

The sympathy he’d felt moments ago evaporated completely. Baekgyeong, despite the splash attack, let out a ringing laugh. Siron couldn’t remember him ever laughing this brightly before.

“How’s that, Yoon Siron? Wide awake now, huh?”

A thrill spread through Siron’s body, rising from deep within his chest. He felt like he was dreaming—like the whole world was a blur beneath his feet.

In that moment, Siron was seized by a sudden impulse to kiss Baekgyeong. If Baekgyeong had been a girl, he would’ve surrendered to the feeling without hesitation, he thought, as he stared into Baekgyeong’s smiling face.

“...Yeah. I’m awake.”

“What?”

His voice was too quiet. Baekgyeong leaned in, bringing his ear close to Siron’s mouth. The unexpected heat of it made Siron dizzy. His flawless bare skin brushed up against Siron’s, setting off a spark. Siron wanted to bolt from the pool, but Baekgyeong’s arm was holding him too tightly.

“I’m going back to Korea in nine days.”

Siron gave a stiff smile. The impulsive confession left him reeling. Tension stiffened his back until it ached.

“What?”

Only when he saw Baekgyeong’s confused expression did Siron realize: this was the right time to say goodbye.

“I figured I should tell you in advance.”

“What do you mean, ‘tell me’...”

“A goodbye.”

Now he understood why he hadn’t said anything sooner, why he’d hesitated so much. Baekgyeong wasn’t someone who explored his feelings deeply, but Siron had felt the loneliness Baekgyeong himself didn’t even realize he carried. And that loneliness had weighed on him.

“You’re leaving Korea for good?”

Baekgyeong stepped back and asked.

“I want to be an actor. I want to act in Korean, in Korea.”

“...An actor in Korea?”

Time seemed to freeze between them. A long silence passed. Baekgyeong’s fingertips brushed Siron’s cheek. The touch was light, soft—and yet it sent a jolt through him like an electric current.

“Well, you don’t have an average face, that’s for sure.”

“Really? You think I’ve got a shot?”

“In America? Don’t want to be an actor here?”

Siron shook his head firmly.

“I want to act in Korean.”

“...Must be nice. Having a dream.”

Looking at the dazed expression on Baekgyeong’s face, Siron felt a strange anxiety. They hadn’t even known each other for two full months, yet Siron felt closer to him than people he’d known for years. Maybe Baekgyeong felt the same way. The thought of Baekgyeong feeling disappointed or hurt made Siron’s chest sting.

“Maybe I should go to Korea too.”

But what Baekgyeong said next was the last thing Siron expected.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m sick of the Korean food they serve here.”

It sounded like a joke, but his face was completely serious. If anything, Siron was the one caught off guard. Baekgyeong spoke without hesitation, not caring at all how his words might affect Siron.

“So take me with you, Yoon Siron.”

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