“I think one or two in the morning.”
That was quite long for simply drinking.
“Seogeung… What exactly did you talk about with the producer-director?” Seoyoon ended up joining the conversation.
Seogeung knitted his brow at his intervention. He could pass off Woorim’s provoking interrogation because Woorim didn’t seem to like something about him. However, when Seoyoon, a relatively objective person, questioned him while expressing his doubts, he was more than a little bewildered.
Unlike before, Seogeung started to stutter, “J-just some personal things, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“If it wasn’t such a big deal, couldn’t you just tell us and get it off your chest?”
That wasn’t wrong. However, Seogeung clammed up. The glint in the eyes watching Seogeung changed to suspicion. Seogeung also felt the change. His mouth must have felt dry because he licked his lips once.
“It really wasn’t anything,” he tried to rebut, but the few seconds of delay made it too late.
To be honest, I didn’t think that Seogeung was the one who murdered the staff by chopping them into pieces. There were many staff members. No matter how well-built one was, there was no way one person could chop that many people up and shove them in an elevator without the rest of us noticing. Plus, what about the missing lower halves?
But Woorim, whose sole intention was to turn the doubt onto Seogeung, seemed to be satisfied that he made Seogeung shut up. He didn’t seem to care at all about getting to the bottom of the case. He was only interested in one thing.
My eyes met those of Woorim. They were eyes that were strangely magnetic, no matter how many times I saw them. He stopped tapping his pen and grinned. His faintly pink lips moved without hesitation. “Besides, just because you’re gay, it doesn’t mean that you go crazy for all men. Gay or straight, people have preferences. There’s always a reason someone falls for another person.”
“…”
“I don’t think the filming staff and Seogeung are Haeseo’s type at all, don’t you agree?” Woorim asked, but he already knew my answer.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Woorim stepped forward to defend me at the perfect time. He had occasionally glanced my way to check on my situation while he seemingly perused the booklet and chatted with Hawoo.
He was careful and persistent but just close enough not to cross my lines.
The way he paid meticulous attention to me was similar to Yeonseon back in the day, back when Yeonseon studied and memorized what I liked and disliked. His eyes were filled with affection as they thoroughly observed me. All the while, he wasn’t afraid to be caught in the act. Rather, he appreciated it when I noticed.
When I never answered in the end, he asked me once more. This time it was more direct. “Out of all of us, wouldn’t you say that I’m the closest to your type?”
The aim of the question couldn’t get clearer—it was explicit.
I watched the pen that was spinning in his hands for a moment. He looked like he was barely holding on to it, but he never dropped it. In the end, I saw him firmly grip it in his hand and I sighed. “…A bit.”
Woorim smiled broadly at my answer. It was the type of smile that couldn’t hide the happiness behind it; it reminded me of Yeonseon. I had to admit it—despite looking different, Woorim and Yeonseon were similar. Even the way they approached me straightforwardly was alike.
Woorim reminded me of Yeonseon more than his younger brother, Hyehyun.
“You heard that, right? Haeseo has high standards, so stop with your ridiculous assumptions about whether he was dating a staff member. There are enough problems here already and I don’t want to waste my precious time gossiping about such things in bad taste.”
Now, the perspective of the situation had changed, and Seogeung became a person who made us waste time on frivolous things in bad taste. Seogeung glared at Woorim, yet he couldn’t say what he really wanted out loud. It wasn’t because he was afraid of Woorim. He had nothing to fear—that was, except death.
What Woorim said next turned Seogeung into a coward. “And Seogeung, you might really need to watch out.”
“What the hell do you mean?” Seogeung asked despite feeling offended.
Woorim pointed at the guide booklet with his finger. “‘You may take responsibility for destroying objects mindlessly.’ Goyeon broke a flashlight by throwing it. Afterward, she dropped to her death.”
Maybe this mansion was instilling some sort of magic into Woorim. It happened before when he talked about the urban legend about the snuff films. It was evident that he told it like a joke, but nobody could pass it off lightly as he did. His words felt almost prophetic.