BO - 6

06. Damn (Unrequited) Love

On the day he took the call and disappeared, I considered calling him but stopped myself. 

After all, I’d see him in the morning on my way to work anyway—why bother? 

Fortunately, when I saw him the next morning, he seemed no different than usual. The same was true on the way home that evening. Still, sleepless nights plagued me as worry consumed me. My uncle wasn’t enough—I now carried the immense weight of Choi Si-baek in my heart. 

I’d always hated worrying about someone, constantly thinking about their well-being throughout the day. That’s why I’d avoided this kind of life, fighting pointlessly to keep my distance. But was this really how life worked? Wasn’t it supposed to flow according to my will? This was just how my life turned out. 

Silently driving beside me, his profile etched into my vision like a painting. Evening’s calm had settled over Choi Si-baek, making him appear even more composed. Today, he chose serenity as his mask. His refined features projected an air of orderly tranquility, shifting effortlessly between mature adulthood, sensual dawn, fresh mornings, vibrant afternoons, and sultry nights. 

“I’m going to watch a movie.” 

Lost in thought, unusually quiet today, he glanced at me through the rearview mirror. I wiggled my eyebrows, signaling for him to turn the car around quickly. 

“Drop me off at the theater, Director Choi. You can head home early today. It’s fine—I’ll take a taxi back. Seriously. If you’re worried, I’ll text you when I get home.” 

I didn’t usually go to the movies alone, but today, I wanted some quiet time to enjoy being by myself. 

Despite my reassurances, he remained silent, his unreadable gaze fixed on the road. Just as my patience was about to run out… 

“You’re not meeting anyone there, are you?” 

“Who?” 

I almost joked about meeting someone but decided against it. What was the point of teasing him? He was clearly doing his job. Yet, his actions blurred the line between jealousy and duty—it was infuriating. 

Even the most perfect program couldn’t run without errors. Choi Si-baek, who executed commands flawlessly, was no exception. 

Not wanting to waste any more emotion, I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off first. 

“Forget it. I’ll come with you. Either way, I won’t be able to sleep until you get home.” 

Of course—he was responsible for my safety. 

His overly professional demeanor annoyed me, so I responded sarcastically. 

“No, thanks. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet my destined partner by chance. Isn’t fate supposed to find you when you least expect it? Don’t interfere—just go home.” 

It was probably just part of his duty, but his behavior felt suspiciously like jealousy, which I didn’t dislike. Was this what unrequited love felt like? If so, I never wanted to experience it again. How could I endure another round of this torment? One more bout of unrequited love would strip me bare. 

“What kind of answer are you fishing for with that long-winded nonsense?” 

Exactly. What did I expect him to say? 

It felt like he could see right through me, reading my desire for him to feel jealous. I desperately wanted to escape this unbearable unrequited love. 

“I won’t interfere. Don’t worry. I’m not about to slit anyone’s throat.” 

His words, sharp as bones, made me silently suppress the emotions bubbling up inside me once again. 

Suddenly, a question popped into my head—one of those relentless curiosities that struck me without warning. These intrusive thoughts were yet another symptom of my unrequited love. Though unpleasant, I couldn’t resist the fluttering excitement of wanting to know more about him. 

“By the way, Director Choi, what kind of movie genre do you like?” 

“This is sudden.” 

“Well, we’re going to the theater together, aren’t we?” 

Come to think of it, I didn’t know much about his preferences. 

Favorite foods, movie genres, or even colors—those small details that were hard to notice unless you cared. Loving someone meant discovering these trivial, seemingly insignificant things. The more I learned, the more desperate I became to uncover even the tiniest traces of him. It felt like uncovering a secret only I knew, leaving me giddy. 

“Nothing in particular. I don’t have favorites.” 

“Hmm, then what genre have you watched the most at the theater? Action? Romance?” 

Today, the silence stretched longer than usual. I quickly caught its meaning. 

“You’ve never been to the theater? You must have gone with your girlfriends before.” 

“There are plenty of things to do without watching movies.” 

“…True.” 

Things to do without watching movies… It was a valid point, but why did my mind wander to mundane activities like eating meals or drinking coffee? Instead, all I could think of were inappropriate scenarios—kissing leading to sex, and everything in between. 

“So you enjoy physical sports?” 

“Well, yes. I’m good at anything physical.” 

Even my sarcastic question was met with his calm, unruffled response. The casual way he touched his earlobe and let go made me feel like the trashy one for asking. 

Ruminating on things I shouldn’t was deeply unpleasant. Vivid images of Choi Si-baek entangled with faceless women turned me into Picasso or Braque, painting cubist masterpieces in my mind. I bit my lip hard to shut it down. Stop imagining useless things, Seo Jae-yeon. You’ve always been a science person. 

‘Ah, ah, Si-baek, don’t move. Hmm, maah, uh, huh. Mmm, hmm.’ 

‘You said you wanted me to finish. Don’t pull out or stop moving. Bossy, aren’t you, Ms. Seo?’ 

‘Huu, mmm, uh, hmm, aaang. Nooo.’ 

‘Then what? Should we hold hands and play house instead?’ 

‘Huu… nooo.’ 

‘Again with the nooo.’ 

Choi Si-baek lazily laughed, dragging out his words like mine. 

‘What’s so “nooo” about it? Your pussy’s already soaking wet.’ 

‘Kiss… hmmm, hhh…’ 

‘Shut up and fuck already.’ 

‘Nooo, kii, hhh, kiss!’ 

‘Kiss what? You want me to?’ 

‘Yeees. Idiot, hhh, ah, ya.’ 

Even while teasing me mercilessly, his red lips sucked and rubbed my nipples. Sometimes, they wrapped around them, sucking as if savoring every moment. 

I clamped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the madness. His voice, which had sounded so tender during those moments of comfort, now echoed cruelly in my mind. The playful banter I hadn’t disliked mixed with the moans I imagined myself uttering—but now replaced with another woman’s sounds. 

I wanted to die. The imaginary audio quality was unnecessarily vivid, like ASMR. 

Who was this woman Choi Si-baek was seeing? I was jealous of a faceless stranger. 

“Damn…” 

Don’t swear. Swallow the curses. Forcing down the vile words, I lifted my head, only to find him openly watching my little performance. Arms crossed, he stared through the rearview mirror as if watching a movie, a hint of pity flashing in his eyes. 

“Where are we?” 

“You said you were going to watch a movie.” 

“Oh.” 

“Snap out of it. Soon you’ll be growing flowers on your head.” 

While memories kept resurfacing painfully, this man acted as if nothing bothered him. As always, he seemed to have no recollection of the past. These feelings were mine alone. Unable to hide my bitterness, I got out of the car. Only after I stepped out did he finally exit from the driver’s seat. 

Handing him the popcorn and cola I’d bought, I noticed two straws sticking out of the cup. Having watched movies with Yoo Kyung so often, I’d absentmindedly inserted two straws into one cup out of habit—we used to share drinks. 

“Should I buy another cola?” 

“No, drink as much as you want.”

“It’s not like I know what movie it is. It’s a new Kim Chang-jin film, and apparently, it shares the same universe as Next Door Forsythia, which came out last year. That’s why there’s been so much talk about it. Next Door Forsythia was released three years ago—do you even know it?” 

As always, I was the one babbling while Choi Si-baek silently listened—or maybe just let it all go in one ear and out the other. 

“What did I say earlier? About Kim Yeo-hee and Yoon Si-kyung—what’s their relationship? Hint: they’ve lived in the same apartment complex for three years.” 

“Fake close siblings.” 

“Ding-dong! So basically, it’s a forbidden love story. If you get this much, you’ll have no trouble understanding the movie.” 

Even though his response was dry and emotionless, I continued to ramble with excessive enthusiasm. After all, if we were watching it together, it’d be better if we both enjoyed it. I didn’t want to drag someone who wouldn’t enjoy it and force them into a seat. 

“Why is it forbidden when they’re just borrowing each other’s family registry? They’re just hooking up.” 

“Our Director Choi is so detail-oriented. But people call that ‘fake close siblings.’ It’s close enough to be incest but with a fake twist.” 

True, adding “fake” somehow made it not incest anymore. Despite his oddly logical argument, I stubbornly insisted. He didn’t argue back no matter what I said. Whether it was real or fake siblings hooking up, he didn’t seem to care at all. His expression was like that of someone listening to some random dog’s love story. 

“Is that kind of thing really interesting to you?” 

Kim Jong-seop would probably like it. He added that thought absentmindedly. 

“Isn’t it more fun when it’s not my kind of love and involves lots of hardship and suffering?” 

I grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bag in his hand and turned toward the theater. 

I’d heard there weren’t many sex scenes, but the movie was rated R anyway. Turns out, it was pretty violent. Knives plunged deep into flesh, screams erupted, and blood splattered everywhere. My stomach churned, and at some point, I stopped reaching for the popcorn altogether. 

In the middle of licking the salty residue off my fingers, I suddenly glanced at Choi Si-baek sitting next to me. 

The man watched the gory scenes with an expression so indifferent it bordered on boredom. As I stared at him, forgetting to pull my index finger out of my mouth, he turned to look at me. The faint light from the screen illuminated his ashen-gray eyes. 

His lips relaxed slightly, and his tongue moved languidly. Slowly lowering my finger, I quickly shifted my gaze back to the screen. 

My throat was parched, so I grabbed the cola and gulped it down greedily. I sucked furiously on the red straw, now as red as my racing heart. When I placed the cola back on the armrest between us, I felt him reach for it. To my surprise, he picked it up and began drinking through the green straw that matched the red one. 

He must have known I was drinking from it, yet he didn’t seem to care. My exhale felt like a burning ember. 

A wealthy housewife appeared on screen, hiring someone to kill a woman. It was such a predictable plot. 

As the knife danced toward the woman’s side, I braced myself to close my eyes—but my view was blocked. 

The hand covering my eyes bore a ring. His palm was so large it could have completely enveloped my face. At the edge of my peripheral vision, I met Choi Si-baek’s unreadable eyes, which seemed to ask, Do we really need to keep watching this? 

“...” 

Still, I stayed seated. Whenever the atmosphere on screen grew intense, his hand covered my eyes. There was no reason left to leave. 

The movie was interesting but too violent—I barely watched half of it. It was a trashy melodrama. Choi Si-baek seemed to have seen almost every scene, but his expression suggested he found it boring. 

When the runtime ended, I dumped the mostly uneaten popcorn into the trash. It was the first time I hadn’t finished an entire tub of popcorn during a movie. The night air was cool, yet the breeze between us felt warm. 

“So, if you don’t even go to the movies, what do you usually do on dates? Isn’t the theater a basic date spot?” 

Finally, I asked the question that had been nagging at me throughout the movie. 

“I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer. I’m just asking.” 

“Why does this question feel so desperate?” 

No matter how many times I tacked on “just,” he smirked, having already caught my impatience. 

“I mean…” 

“I don’t like going out much.” 

“Ah.” 

It wasn’t a particularly satisfying answer, but strangely, it made sense. 

So, he preferred staying indoors, doing things that could only be done at home. Got it. 

Which meant… he probably preferred activities involving taking off clothes. 

“Why? Ask whatever you want. What else are you curious about? My body measurements? Cock size?” 

“No, I’m not curious! Are you insane?” 

“Come on, you already know, right?” 

Of course, he remembered everything. Yet, he acted as if he didn’t recall a thing and hadn’t mentioned it once since that day. This was deception, plain and simple. Since I had drawn the line and decided to leave that incident in the past, I couldn’t press further. Instead, I glared at him, sulking. 

His smug smile radiated confidence. That mature, adult aura I could never possess. The unique air surrounding him. Even if I aged and reached his current age, I doubted I’d ever catch up to the man he was now. 

My face flushed red as I slapped his cheek lightly. He burst into laughter, looking both surprised and amused. He knew he’d been generous in letting me off easy. Still, I wanted to act spoiled because, deep down, I knew he wouldn’t do anything to stop me. 

I wanted repeated confirmation that I wasn’t just another passing woman to him—a sad but undeniable truth. 

“You’re getting spoiled.” 

“That was ages ago. I barely remember it.” 

“Oh, so I wasn’t good enough? You weren’t satisfied? Well, I guess that’s possible. No matter how skilled I am, I can’t please everyone.” 

“What nonsense! How many times did I—ah…” 

Choi Si-baek finally burst into uncontrollable laughter, covering his eyes with one hand. 

“CHOI SI-BAEK!!” 

Watching my beet-red face, he chuckled, curling his lips mischievously. 

“Well, I might not remember how many times you…” 

“Can you be quiet?!” 

I stomped on his foot while glancing nervously at passersby. 

Had I ever seen Choi Si-baek laugh so freely before? Look at those perfectly aligned teeth—it was infuriating. I’d never paid so much attention to someone’s teeth before. White, straight, perfect. He truly had everything. Choi Si-baek, living in his own world. 

Though his laughter subsided, his cold face still held a sly smile—it was a breathtaking sight. I hadn’t expected him to make such jokes. 

My heart, which had been pounding angrily, now fluttered with a different rhythm. With his laughter lingering faintly on his lips, he tilted his head slightly toward me. 

My heart tingled. Why did he keep making these jokes, teasing me like this? Why did he keep making me misunderstand? 

“...Want to see if I can finish you off? Do you think I only know how to plant seeds?” 

Ruffling my hair playfully, he opened the rear door of the car for me. 

“There’s a line of guys waiting to be with me, so just get in.” 

Grumbling unnecessarily, I climbed into the car. 

It felt unfair for a man with a girlfriend to follow me to the movies and mess with my emotions like this. 

Lying on my bed, I rolled around restlessly, unable to sleep. Like a dog with a sore butt, I buried my head in the sheets and shook it wildly. 

“Damn you, Choi Si-baek.” 

Ah, my heart. 

My stomach growled loudly. I hadn’t eaten much for dinner, and I’d barely touched the popcorn. I hadn’t eaten properly since lunch. Feeling hungry but not wanting to eat—this was surely a serious condition. 

Maybe I should order late-night snacks. Trying to fill the void, I aimlessly scrolled through delivery apps and photo galleries on my phone. Then I noticed a name in my call log. 

Director Choi Si-baek 

Our last call was from last night. He’d mentioned an urgent meeting, so I adjusted my schedule. It wasn’t a big deal—it was just meeting my friend Yoo Kyung—but I couldn’t tell him not to go because of that. Besides, I didn’t want him to send someone else instead.

“Oh, ah.” 

I’d forgotten I’d accidentally pressed the call button and was lost in thought. The familiar voicemail message jolted me back to reality, and I quickly ended the call. 

But… why wasn’t he answering? He usually picked up work-related calls immediately, including those from me. His efficiency was so sharp it could make your head spin. 

Come to think of it, Cha Geon-joo had also complained a few days ago about him not picking up calls. And that day, Choi Si-baek had left his apartment with a dark expression. 

The realization sent a chill through my body, draining the blood from my brain. 

Disasters always struck without warning—no signals, no hints, just a sudden blow to the back of your head. They took everything away before you could react or even process what was happening. My mother’s hit-and-run accident was like that. The scar carved into my body like a crimson letter was like that. Countless nights my uncle must have endured in silence were like that. And perhaps countless moments from Choi Si-baek’s past, which I knew nothing about, were the same. 

Even as I pressed the call button again, I couldn’t wait for the connection. I tossed my phone aside, grabbed my coat, and bolted out of the house like someone possessed. 

Throwing on my coat haphazardly, I repeatedly jabbed at the elevator button. 

Back when I was struggling with trauma, I’d called him late at night, asking him to check if anyone was in my house. Even half-asleep, his voice had been steady and calm. Memories of those incidents now ignited a fuse of anxiety within me. Fragments of those memories sparked uncontrollably, growing hotter by the second. There was no stopping the wildfire raging inside me. 

The single-floor difference felt like an eternity. Without realizing how heavy it had become, the weight pressing down on my heart now felt unbearable. 

Please, let nothing be wrong, Choi Si-baek. 

Ping. As the elevator doors opened on the 27th floor, I stood ready to spring forward. The moment I turned left, I spotted the back of a familiar man leaning against the wall, his center of gravity tilted forward. 

This man, who had always been impeccably neat in his shirts, who acted as if bending over would be catastrophic, this composed and calm Choi Si-baek… 

My worries spun endlessly in my mind like a perpetual motion machine. When I noticed one hand clutching his waist, I couldn’t hold back any longer and rushed toward him. 

That’s when it happened. 

“AAH!” 

Suddenly, my hair was yanked like a bundle of trash and shoved forward. My back slammed into the wall with a dull thud, as if my shoulder blades had shattered. 

The searing pain shot through my muscles, spine, and collarbone. The impact knocked the air out of me, crushing my windpipe against the wall. My breath froze. 

My body was dragged involuntarily, my shoes slipping off and my ankle twisting painfully. Despite all this, I couldn’t close my eyes, desperate to confirm if he was okay. His ragged breathing filled the space between us, and the feverish heat in his eyes seeped into me like smoke. The dense warmth in the air passed between our clenched teeth. 

Only after recognizing me did Choi Si-baek loosen his grip on my hair, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his waist tightly. His glare asked, Why are you here? 

Before I could answer, I spotted the red stain spreading across his white shirt near his side. Forgetting the pain in my back and twisted ankle, my breath caught in my throat. 

“Choi Si-, Choi Si-baek.” 

“Leave.” 

I reached for his waist but hesitated, circling around him like a lost puppy. 

“A knife… you’ve been stabbed, haven’t you? Right now, a knife…” 

“I told you to leave, Seo Jae-yeon.” 

His voice was unnervingly calm but colder than ever, drawing a clear boundary to keep me at bay. 

“Leave before they drag you out.” 

A thick, invisible line was drawn between us—whether to protect me or himself, I couldn’t tell. But its presence was undeniable, and it brought tears streaming down my face. 

“You’re hurt. How can I just leave when you’re hurt?” 

It was the same spot where I’d been stabbed two years ago. The memory of that day—the excruciating pain, collapsing unconscious, barely clinging to life—flooded back unbidden. 

I thought I’d moved on, but the memories surged forth relentlessly, suffocating me. Was it because of the unlocked trauma or the sight of Choi Si-baek bleeding? I couldn’t tell what was causing my agony. 

“Director Choi, I’ll call 119…” 

Panic-stricken, I frantically patted myself down, searching for a phone I hadn’t brought. His piercing voice cut through me like a needle. 

“Leave while you still have a whole body.” 

His gaze lingered on my trembling hands, useless in helping him. Was he blaming me for being helpless? Or… 

“Every time I let you go quietly, you start acting like this is normal.” 

“…Director Choi.” 

“Don’t overstep. It’s annoying.” 

“…I…” 

“Go back while you can still move your mouth. Everything’s annoying.” 

His dismissive tone made the cracks he’d shown me feel like lies. 

Ping. The elevator arrived. Behind me, Kim Jong-seop’s voice pulled me out of my daze. 

“What’s this? Did you two fuck here? Damn, outdoor sex is hot. Is this the new hotspot? Maybe I should bring Song Ah here.” 

Even as he joked, seeing the blood seeping from Choi Si-baek’s side, Kim Jong-seop smirked at me. 

“I thought you were dead since you weren’t answering calls, so I came to prepare your coffin.” 

“If you’re done building coffins, shut up and go. I’m tired.” 

“Shithead. Let’s go, we need to treat that. Seriously, this guy’s such a handful.” 

“Hospital? No hospitals for something like this. Just slap some soybean paste on it, and it’ll heal.” 

Whether it was a joke or not, his words felt like a vice tightening around my chest. My heart ached as if oxygen had stopped circulating. 

Snatching the medicine pouch, Choi Si-baek pointed at me with his chin and barked harshly. 

“Take her with you when you leave.” 

With that, Choi Si-baek disappeared behind the massive door, leaving me standing there, oblivious to the pain in my back and the coldness in my ankle. Only then did I collapse. 

“Hey! Are you okay? Leaving a girl whose legs gave out and going inside alone? Damn, that piece of shit.” 

Something felt strange. My broken body hurt less than the barrier he’d erected between us. 

The fever he’d left behind burned within me. My chest ached—not from the fall, but from the heat that had seeped into my heart. My shattered soul. 

Fine, you bastard. I’ll forget about you. 

If worrying about you makes me… makes me… 

I sat there, unable to wipe away the tears streaming down my face.