Chapter 18: The Broken Mast
by GideonZion used to frequently post photos of his favorite restaurants through paid messages.
Among his fans, those places had become pilgrimage sites—the “Do Zion Tour.” Unfortunately, they got too famous, and Zion ended up losing his favorite spots to the crowds.
Anyway, I can’t let him find out I’m a fan…
“Looks like Do-won was babbling again.”
Thankfully, Kim Do-won saved the day. Cha Jubin seamlessly kept the conversation flowing.
“Yeah, he talked about you a lot at the company dinner. Everyone really missed you, you know?”
Sorry for throwing you under the bus, Do-won, I apologized silently.
But hey, I saved him from those thugs, so this is a fair trade, right? I rationalized, trying to justify my betrayal.
Afraid my clumsy excuse would be obvious, I kept my head down, unable to meet Do Zion’s eyes.
My grip tightened on the cigarette. I desperately wanted to escape this awkward conversation, but he just kept muttering as we sat before the red light.
“I’m craving coffee.”
“Oh, me too. A high-caffeine cold brew.”
His eyes darted around before he tilted his head. “You had milk tea last time. Why cold brew today?”
“Since I’m drinking it to wake up, a high-caffeine hit in the morning keeps my energy up until late afternoon.”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly impatient with the unchanging signal, and smiled. “You know what? Your standards are clearer than anyone else’s.”
“…Mine?”
“You just subtly hide your likes and dislikes, or try not to make them obvious. Even though you’re always mindful of what others think, I’ve never met anyone with a strongerer sense of self than you, Sunbae.”
He felt exposed, as if he’d been stripped bare in front of Zion.
Jubin, who spent his life desperately hiding his true nature, often found his sense of self thrown into chaos whenever someone else presumed to define him. It hurt, too—the way people claimed to know him so well when he himself didn’t even understand who he was.
But Zion’s words hadn’t confused him. Instead, they’d brought a sense of relief, a feeling that it was okay to be honest.
He knows exactly what I need to hear, Jubin thought.
The more he pondered Zion’s words, the more he felt the warmth of his considerate nature.
“Thanks,” Jubin said. “For interpreting my stubbornness as conviction.”
“That’s why you’re so kind to everyone, Senior. You listen to others, but you still make your own decisions.”
In truth, Cha Jubin was a man who was anything but “kind.”
If anything, his true nature was far from kind. The “warmth” he showed others was a subconscious habit, a reflexive response born from his constant awareness of their presence.
“You’re only saying that because you’ve never met a truly kind person.”
“Out of everyone I’ve met, you’re the kindest, Sunbae.”
I’m just someone who’s overly attuned to others’ moods, a people-pleaser driven by high empathy and anxiety, Jubin thought.
Because his empathy was so heightened, he could spiral into a thousand different worries and theories at the slightest flicker of a change in someone’s expression. He lacked the simplicity to just shut off that endless stream of thought. Lacking the courage to be disliked or the confidence to face criticism, he had spent his life constantly adapting to others.
“I can manage being polite,” he told Do-won, “but I’m not a kind person.”
Cha Jubin’s life was a performance of that very politeness.
A truly kind person wouldn’t seriously consider abandoning a dead-drunk Kim Do-won on the street.
If he were truly kind… he wouldn’t have chosen a life of casual sex.
Moreover, if he were a truly good person, he should have seriously rejected Zion’s whim when he leaned in for a proper kiss.
Jubin added a light denial, smiling. “We’ve decided to call that kind of kindness ‘socializing.'”
So I hope he doesn’t mistake me for being a warm person.
“You’re the one who’s warm.”
“Can you still not run away after knowing my true personality?”
He threw out the words with a laugh, as if joking, but it clearly felt like a subtle warning.
“At least you don’t treat people with a fake smile. You show it on your face when you dislike someone, and when you like someone, you love them as much as you want.”
A person completely different from me. A complete opposite with nothing in common. That’s why he’s someone I want to emulate, even though he’s younger. Someone who expresses themselves so much.
“That’s what a truly warm person is like.”
His light brown eyes, holding the warmth of the mountains, seemed especially bright today.
Cha Jubin pulled the tumbler he’d brought from his bag.
“The tumbler you gave me. It’s really great.”
Even for a top star, it couldn’t have been easy to replace the regret of missing a company dinner with gifts for everyone else.
She had felt the sincerity of his gift when she discovered the inscription on the bottom of the tumbler.
May you meet your most brilliant moments once again.
She must have stared at it blankly for a long time.
She was moved once by the phrase most brilliant moments, and twice by the words meet… once again.
After all, this tumbler is one of a kind in the whole world. She had planned to treasure it, but the inscription changed her mind.
This was a tumbler like a lucky charm—the more she used it, the more it would sweep up good fortune for her.
“I’ll use this for my cold brew.”
I’m going to use it all up, Jubin thought, a faint smile spreading across his lips.
“Let’s hit the drive-thru after we eat.”
“Sounds good.”
They arrived at a quiet Korean restaurant just outside the Seoul metropolitan area. It had a spacious parking lot and a separate smoking area tucked away in a corner.
“Go on in,” Zion said.
As Zion entered the restaurant, Jubin immediately looked for the smoking area. The lingering pull he felt toward Zion—the raw, magnetic attraction—still hadn’t faded.
“What was the point of replacing the chip…” Jubin muttered to himself, slipping his hand into his pocket.
He tapped the top of the pack, trying to shake a cigarette out as usual, but it wouldn’t budge.
“What the—”
He peered inside to find his last cigarette snapped in half, lying there in a pathetic heap.
“Fuck…”
All I can do is sigh.
The scent of pheromones wafted from the broken end of the cigarette, mingling with the tobacco leaves and only making my heart ache more.
Just like this broken cigarette, nothing seems to be going my way today.
The neighborhood was so quiet, without a single convenience store in sight all the way here…
With no other choice, I took out the broken cigarette and lit it.
The moment I did, a burst of pheromones filled the air, and the anxiety that had been gnawing at me finally subsided.
“Ah, right. I’m quitting!”
Jubin quickly crushed the broken cigarette into the ashtray and let out a long sigh.
Damn, I completely forgot I was supposed to quit.
That was a close one. How am I ever going to quit if I keep smoking like this?
Everyone else always tries to quit smoking at the start of the New Year, but Jubin had never even considered it.
Without these pheromone-suppressing cigarettes, his emotions and desires would spiral out of control. He couldn’t afford to take such an unstable risk.
He had always struggled to express his feelings in real life and hated the sensation of being overly excited. This was why he was so obsessively committed to maintaining his composure.
Above all, he was terrified of crumbling in front of Do Zion.
I’ll just lose control to his pheromones again…
In the past, he had been the more successful one, giving him some ground to stand on. But now, he wasn’t even in the same league, leaving him with no pride to cling to.
All he wanted—then and now—was to hear someone say, “That senior was always perfect.”
But these damned pheromones kept getting in the way.
This was nothing more than a desperate, compulsive need to be loved.
Jubin knew better than anyone that the human heart is as fickle and conditional as it is warm. He had always been the one consumed, and he knew all too well that love could be lost at any moment.
So, he figured he would soon get used to Zion’s volatility, and if he just endured it for a little while, it would eventually fade away.
The real problem was how long this half-burnt, extinguished pheromone cigarette could suppress his urges.
“Ha, I don’t know…”
In the end, he reached an irresponsible conclusion. Whatever, I’ll just bear it. It was always like this.
Instead of compromising or confronting anyone, he chose to avoid them and endure as much as possible. It was easier that way.
At that moment, the smoking room door swung open. Jubin’s body flinched at the scent of pheromones that flooded in with the humid air. He didn’t need to check who it was.
“What are you doing here?”
As Jubin turned, he saw a pack of pheromone cigarettes in the man’s hand.
“They said it’s break time, so I have to wait a bit longer.”
“Oh, really?”
The man’s gaze fell on the cigarette Jubin had just stubbed out.
“Will that be enough?”
Jubin shrugged, his tone dismissive. “Well, eating’s quick.”
Though his reply was casual, his eyes were fixed on the pack in the man’s hand. He swallowed hard.
“Do you need these?” the man asked, shaking the pack slightly. It was clear he hadn’t bought them for himself; he’d bought them specifically for Jubin.
“Lending it to me again?”
He closed the distance between them in just a few strides.
“I’m the only one you have, right?”
Jubin had managed to keep his composure while standing by the entrance, but now that the man was close, the urge to give in was overwhelming.
“Yeah, I guess I only have you,” Jubin replied, his voice light and teasing as he forced a smile to hide his inner turmoil. He knew there would be consequences, but he’d rather deal with them than keep fighting this feeling.
“I know I’m asking a lot, but let me borrow one.”
Just as Jubin reached out his hand, the man spoke.
“Sunbae.”
He slid his fingers between Jubin’s, interlocking their hands and squeezing tight.
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