Chapter 57

Does the main character always make their entrance last?

Yi-seon looked around at the crowd packed around their circular table. People had dragged chairs over from neighboring tables until their corner of the room had become absurdly dense. The cause sat directly beside him: Yeon Mugyeol.

“Why didn’t you come to the retreat? It would’ve been so fun if you did!”

“Do you live far? Dorms?”

“Whoa, you have a car? Lucky!”

“Wait, really? That car that dropped Yi-seon off was yours?”

Questions rained down on Mugyeol without end.

Mugyeol kept the mood flowing with easy answers and casual laughter. He clinked glasses whenever someone offered a toast, and when a sunbae leaned in from behind with a phone, Mugyeol smiled without hesitation and posed for the picture.

…Isn’t this basically a fan signing event?

Graduation day flashed through Yi-seon’s mind—not the part where Mugyeol had caused a scene and proposed, but the huge crowd that had surrounded him beforehand. Even students from other schools had come just to see him.

So perhaps it was not surprising that Mugyeol, who had not even attended the retreat, became the center of the gathering within minutes. Yi-seon almost resented himself for ever warning Mugyeol that skipping orientation might leave him an outcast.

Yeon Mugyeol was always someone who stood at the center of attention wherever he went.

“Where do you buy your clothes? That looks great.”

“Just whatever looks good at the department store.”

At Mugyeol’s nonchalant answer, the guy beside him leaned closer to inspect the shirt.

“Holy shit, this is Dior?”

The guy looked floored that a Dior T-shirt qualified as ‘whatever.’ Mugyeol casually added that he did not care much about brands and simply bought whatever designs he liked.

It was true. Yi-seon had accompanied Mugyeol to department stores often enough to know the routine: Mugyeol walked in, spotted something he liked, tried it on, and bought it.

Price tags barely registered with him, though that did not mean he chose only expensive things. A ten-million-won jacket and a fifty-thousand-won sweatshirt received the same consideration if Mugyeol liked how they looked.

As the drinking and conversation continued, the crowd around Mugyeol gradually changed. Earlier, the men had clustered around him with questions; now female classmates took their place, exchanging Instagram handles and taking selfies with him.

Watching girls link arms with Mugyeol for photos gave Yi-seon a petty pang of resentment. It also revived traumatic memories of the retreat, where he had been pinned down and decorated like a doll. The caterpillar-like false eyelashes alone had nearly made him wish for unconsciousness.

They wouldn’t glue those eyelashes on Yeon Mugyeol. Nor would they make him wear a lace headband.

The contrast was outrageous. Yi-seon had been treated like the girls’ dress-up doll, while Mugyeol received flattering selfies and admiration. Is this discrimination? This feels like discrimination.

Mugyeol had been popular in high school too, but the scale had never felt this overwhelming. After three years in the same school, everyone there had grown accustomed to him.

University was different. Here, everyone was encountering the phenomenon known as Yeon Mugyeol for the first time: a Dominant Alpha who was gorgeous, wealthy, and academically brilliant. A rare specimen indeed. If Yi-seon had met him for the first time here, he probably would have stared too.

“Mugyeol-ah, can I tag you?”

“Do whatever you want. It’s your account.”

Watching Mugyeol casually surrender all rights to his own image was the final straw. Yi-seon escaped to the restroom and splashed cold water on his face, trying to cool the jealousy simmering in his chest. He knew perfectly well that everyone could see how handsome Mugyeol was. That did not make sharing the sight any easier.

He’s mine…

On the way back, the girls who had enthusiastically given him a makeover at the retreat waved him over. Yi-seon joined them, only to be immediately surrounded by three or four of them.

“Yi-seon-ah, have you seen this photo?”

One of them thrust a phone toward him. On the screen was the photo of Yi-seon asleep at dawn in full half-finished makeup. He squeezed his eyes shut. There were several images he would gladly pay to erase from history, and this ranked near the top.

“Yi-seon-ah. Want me to give you this? It’s brand new.”

Another girl pulled out a lip product and held it toward him. Yi-seon caught the playful gleam in her eyes and immediately leaned away. “You’re trying to put that on me again. I’m not doing it this time. Seriously.”

“I bought it because the shade was pretty, but I’m a warm tone, so it doesn’t suit me. You’re a cool tone, so I think it’ll look gorgeous on you.”

The girl twisted open the lip gloss and advanced with a grin. The others leaned in with equally excited expressions.

“I don’t want to. The stuff you put on me last time wouldn’t wash off even after scrubbing my face, it was such a hassle.”

“That was a tint, but this one’s different.”

“How is it different…?”

Yi-seon flailed both hands to shield his face. Behind him came a new sound—rattle, screech—as something heavy was dragged rapidly across the floor.

Before Yi-seon could turn around to investigate the source of the noise, the lip gloss wand advanced toward his face.

“Just a little swipe. Just a tiny bit. It’s really going to suit you.”

The classmate chuckled and reached for Yi-seon’s cheek. The scraping chair stopped directly behind him, and a large hand immediately came over his shoulder to cover the lower half of his face.

“Looks fun.”

Mugyeol’s familiar low voice came from directly above his head.

Startled, Yi-seon tipped his head back, mouth still muffled beneath Mugyeol’s palm. Mugyeol stood there with one hand on the chair he had dragged over and the other across Yi-seon’s face, smiling as though this entrance were perfectly normal.

Mugyeol released Yi-seon and deliberately wedged the chair into the narrow gap between him and the girl, forcing his large frame into the space as well.

The girl cheerfully shifted aside to make room. Mugyeol settled in at once, draped an arm over Yi-seon’s shoulders, and greeted the table as though he had been invited.

“Hey there.”

One smiling sweep of Mugyeol’s gaze was enough to pull the entire table’s attention toward him.

Yi-seon sighed inwardly. First he conquered the other table, and now this one too? Is he clearing tables like stages in a dojo challenge?

This was the downside of being engaged to someone overwhelmingly popular. Yi-seon could not relax anywhere; even a drinking party turned into crowd control.

“I heard you’re Yi-seon’s friend? Your name is Mugyeol, right? Such a pretty name. Yeon Mugyeol. It suits you.”

Mugyeol idly played with the nape of Yi-seon’s neck beneath his collar. “People tell me my face is prettier than my name more often,” he replied casually.

Everyone burst out laughing at the shameless confidence. These people were far too nice to him.

Yi-seon sipped his ice water and sulked. He could not understand why he had to endure a second live broadcast of Yeon Mugyeol’s fan meeting at an entirely different table. Scowling, he nevertheless let himself sink into the crook of Mugyeol’s arm.

Most people at the table seemed friendly toward both Yi-seon and Mugyeol. One exception sat diagonally across from them. Kang Joobin poured beer into his glass with an unsteady hand, his eyes already glazed with alcohol and something less pleasant.

“Hey, Yeon Mugyeol.”

At Kang Joobin’s loud call, Mugyeol turned from the classmate beside him. Kang Joobin visibly flinched when their eyes met, then compensated with an exaggerated swagger. “Did you get in through early admissions too, Yeon Mugyeol?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I got kidnapped by early admissions too. I was originally planning on going to med school!”

“Ah. Right.”

After the brief acknowledgment, Mugyeol simply returned to his previous conversation. Kang Joobin’s face tightened. Whatever reaction he had been trying to provoke, he had not gotten it.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Kang Joobin kept going anyway, loudly enough for the entire table to hear.

“Isn’t this a total career low? I shouldn’t have applied through early admissions! Fuuuuck—! During mock exams, I didn’t even consider this place!”

The atmosphere at the table turned icy. One by one, their classmates looked at Kang Joobin in disbelief. Misreading the attention as interest, he only got louder. “Should I just do a half-retake? Seriously, this is so annoying! I totally botched it!”

Kang Joobin tried to pour himself more beer and sloshed half of it across the table. Yi-seon lifted Mugyeol’s arm from his shoulders, stood, and calmly took the bottle from Kang Joobin. With a faint smile, he filled the glass properly.

“Tell me about it. What a shame.”

“Huh?”

Glug, glug, glug… The glass filled to the brim in no time.

“Sumin-ie is seriously fucked.”

Thunk.

Yi-seon set down the bottle and patted Kang Joobin’s shoulder with perfect sympathy. He offered a few warm words about setbacks and trying again, then finished with, “Just retake the exam properly and go to med school, Sumin-ah.”

“…Huh?”

“You said your mock exam scores were high enough. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life just like you’re doing today.”

“…”

“We’re still young. Go for it.”

A male classmate who had been listening chimed in. “Come to think of it, Yi-seon-ah, didn’t you get a scholarship? Weren’t your scores high enough for med school too? Why didn’t you go?”

“I just wanted to come here…”

The classmate chuckled at Yi-seon’s mild answer and shot Kang Joobin a sideways glance. The implication needed no words. Kang Joobin’s fingers tightened around his beer glass.

During the awkward lull, Mugyeol raised his glass toward the person beside him. “What are you waiting for? Drink. Let’s drink till we drop.”

Mugyeol’s easy tone broke the tension. Conversation resumed, glasses clinked, and people laughed. Only Kang Joobin remained visibly rattled, glancing around as though searching for an ally.

Yi-seon sat down and cheerfully joined the next toast. Mugyeol’s arm immediately returned to his shoulders. Leaning close, Mugyeol whispered, “So when you called me Yugyeol back then, it really was on purpose.”

Mugyeol’s low chuckle tickled Yi-seon’s ear. Yi-seon rubbed the earlobe and tilted his head. “On purpose?”

“Yeah. Just now, calling Kang Joobin by a different name on purpose.”

Mugyeol looked absurdly pleased. Yi-seon could not understand why the discovery that Yi-seon sometimes used the wrong name on purpose was making him this happy.

Isn’t doing it on purpose worse than not knowing?

Especially since Yi-seon had genuinely thought Kang Joobin’s name was Sumin.

Ah. So his name wasn’t Kang Sumin.

“What’s gotten into you today, though, Ryu Yi-seon?”

“What do you mean?”

“You usually don’t care about stuff like that.”

Mugyeol’s low whisper was strangely distinct despite the noisy pub. Yi-seon tensed and thought about the question. Mugyeol was right: Yi-seon usually avoided unnecessary conflict and preferred to ignore irritating people. This time, however…

Yi-seon leaned close to Mugyeol’s ear and whispered, “Because he cursed at me at the retreat. Said I was showing off… called me an attention seeker.”

The bar was loud, and since Yi-seon was badmouthing someone at the same table, whispering felt prudent.

Kang Joobin had been a public nuisance from the beginning. At the retreat, he had taken particular pleasure in making Yi-seon his target.

“That bastard Ryu Yi-seon is an absolute attention whore! Right? Ah, I’m dying of secondhand embarrassment!”

Even though Yi-seon hadn’t wanted to do it, Kang Joobin had publicly humiliated him, claiming he shook the tambourine just to seek attention.

“Do you guys actually find this funny? Stop trying so hard to show off, Ryu Yi-seon! Hey, someone stop Ryu Yi-seon over there!”

Yi-seon had only been drinking because he kept losing the games, yet Kang Joobin had mocked him for ‘acting out.’ For someone who hated drawing attention more than almost anything, being accused of showing off had been more humiliating than any ordinary insult.

Kang Joobin had picked a convenient target to make himself look tough. Unfortunately for him, that target had been Ryu Yi-seon.

Mugyeol slowly lifted his head and fixed an unblinking stare on Kang Joobin. The look was far colder than anything he had shown when Joobin insulted him directly. Mugyeol started to rise. Yi-seon immediately wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him back down. “I already got revenge. When he was asleep, I stuffed all the leftover dried squid into his backpack. Bet it stank the whole way home. I put gochujang bulgogi jerky in the front pocket too.”

At that, Mugyeol burst into hearty laughter.

“You call that revenge? That? Ryu Yi-seon, you’re only tough at home.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“At home, you grab me by the hair and beat the shit out of me. I’m the only person you treat like a punching bag. Outside, your idea of revenge is putting squid in somebody’s backpack.”

Even while speaking, Mugyeol couldn’t stop laughing.

Yi-seon felt unfairly accused. If Mugyeol was the only person who saw Yi-seon lose all restraint and become physically rough, that was because Mugyeol was the only person in the world capable of making him that angry.

Thank God there’s only one Yeon Mugyeol in the world. If there were two, I’d die young from stress.

“Ah, I should’ve gone to the retreat with you. I could’ve poured ssamjang and kimchi right alongside you while you stuffed the squid into his bag.”

Mugyeol laughed for a while, then pinched Yi-seon’s cheeks and used his index fingers to tug the corners of Yi-seon’s eyes upward into an exaggerated glare.

“You need to look mean like this so people stop messing with you. He picked on you because your face looks too harmless.”

“I’m taller than him, though. Wouldn’t I win if we fought?”

“He doesn’t know Ryu Yi-seon is a violent thug who gives his own husband bloody noses. Anyway, watch out for elementary schoolers too. If some little punk picks a fight with you, tell me. Hyung will handle it.”

“Why? I carry a ten-thousand-won bill in my pocket every day just so I can hand it over obediently.”

At that retort, Mugyeol stopped distorting Yi-seon’s face and gently cupped both cheeks instead.

“Talk back like that and you’ll get beaten up. Kids these days show no mercy with their fists.”

Ah…

Yi-seon held his breath. Warmth registered before pressure, Mugyeol’s palms cupping his cheeks in a gesture Yi-seon had already begun to associate with kissing. His body reacted before his mind did, goosebumps rising as his eyelids almost lowered on instinct.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but every touch from Mugyeol suddenly felt dangerously significant.

“Your face is hot. Did you drink a lot?”

“A little. Four glasses?”

Mugyeol let go of his cheeks, draped an arm over his shoulders, and began fiddling with his ear instead. “Your ears are red too.”

“Because I’m drinking my fifth glass right now.”

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