I’m Not That Obsessive

Chapter 7

What Bae Junman knew was just the tip of the iceberg; in reality, Geon-woo had many more objects of obsession.

The targets of his obsession could be either objects or people. Once he fixated on something, he would stick with it even if a knife was held to his throat.

Carrying the family photo into exam halls, swimming pools, and even bathrooms was actually one of Geon-woo’s milder obsessions.

When he lost that worn-out photo, his obsession shifted to the black crossbag he received on Children’s Day. He carried the bag 365 days a year and even slept holding it.

After completing his military service, the object of his obsession naturally changed once again.

To his older brother, Bae Junman.

As Geon-woo was spreading his wings after joining an entertainment agency, Junman actually quite enjoyed his successful younger brother’s obsession with him.

Even when it crossed the line, the money Geon-woo brought in solved everything. For Junman, money was the solution to all problems.

He could endure it until Geon-woo fell from grace. Just until then.

“But what did you say to push Geon-woo away? Seeing how he acted, I wouldn’t think he’d let go easily.”

“Just, you know. I spoke seriously. Until then, I had just indulged him, but when I spoke properly, it seemed to work.”

“What did you say?”

“That even thinking about him was disgusting and horrible. That trash like him should be burned, branded with a hot iron, and torn apart. That as a brother, I never loved him, that I hated him. That he was a clingy parasite… What else did I say…”

“Wow, you bastard. You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

“Anyway, I told him to just get lost. To stop his fucking obsession.”

“Isn’t that too harsh? No matter what, he’s your brother.”

“You don’t know what I went through with Geon-woo.”

“No, look here. You seemed to enjoy it well enough back then, and now…”

“Hey, forget it! Where in America? Show me again.”

“What do you need to know for? Didn’t you say you’d never see Geon-woo again?”

“Just… Didn’t you say somewhere in LA earlier? Show me exactly where.”

“Ah, I get it. You’ve run out of money, haven’t you?”

“…”

Junman glared at Sangju. He didn’t particularly deny being out of money.

In fact, just before disappearing, Geon-woo had given Junman money. A whole 1 billion won.

He had squandered that large sum of money at a rapid pace. Buying new cars left and right, decking himself out in luxury brands, showering those around him with gifts. He didn’t even know exactly how much he was spending on entertainment each day.

The money his brother gave him flowed into the sewers like running water.

He even got scammed in the process. He dreamed of financial success by buying obscure cryptocurrencies, but in less than a month, all the money he put in turned into scraps of paper.

Due to not working, he only had 50 million won left. He had squandered 950 million won in just over a year.

This was why Junman was looking for his wealthy younger brother.

“LA… Ah! I know where. I heard it’s a place where land prices are incredibly high and it’s very exclusive, so many famous celebrities live there. Is that it?”

“I need to book a plane ticket right away.”

“You crazy bastard, are you really going?”

“Yeah. I’ll go and be Geon-woo’s attachment doll again. Wonder if it’ll be different with some American flavor?”

“But haven’t you been rejected?”

“Rejected?”

“Didn’t you say he doesn’t even look at you once he stops obsessing? That, that bag! You said he threw it away too? Without a second thought.”

This was something Junman had said during a drinking session long ago. He used to boast about how Geon-woo had thrown away the bag, his second obsession, and gone all-in on him.

Junman froze at Sangju’s unexpected point.

“…It won’t be like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he hasn’t found a new object of obsession… it’s still me. It will continue to be me.”

“And if he has found one?”

“…”

Junman couldn’t answer. He picked up his phone, trying to ignore the question. He needed to book a flight to America as soon as possible.

***

“If I leave, you’ll be alone?”

I wandered around the living room with my arms crossed. More accurately, I circled around Mitchell. After turning back from my immediate intention to go home, I carefully assessed what kind of person Mitchell was.

The article claiming that Mitchell needed hospital treatment for severe affection deficiency wasn’t actually very credible.

The source was an entertainment weekly called “The Show”. The Show was an American magazine known for publishing unsubstantiated rumors, scandals, and sensational articles.

Although they face lawsuits every year for fake news, sensational articles tend to pique people’s curiosity. As a result, it was the most widely circulated magazine among entertainment weeklies.

Given the source, it couldn’t be fully trusted, but if the magazine’s content was true, Mitchell’s current behavior made sense.

Mitchell, who extremely dislikes being alone, the Hollywood prince suffering from affection deficiency.

I had a hard time suppressing the twitching at the corners of my mouth.

Mitchell unable to control his own emotions was more interesting than Mitchell rolling around in bed with a man.

Why?

It’s more human.

It felt like I had spotted a tiny flaw or weakness in the supposedly perfect superstar. Mitchell’s close associates would surely know about this tendency of his. The fact that I had become one of those close people evoked a strange thrill.

Although I had seen the shocking scene of Mitchell in bed with a man, that couldn’t be called a weakness.

That bastard had a video of me naked, after all.

How dare I speak out when we both held each other’s shame hostage on our phones?

I forcibly erased the memory of that day. Mitchell and the man on the bed, the recording of my naked declaration, and so on!

Just thinking about it is draining, but my real dark history was already preserved on YouTube anyway. It would probably be posted with a title like “The private life and power abuse of a fallen celebrity” or something like that. Whether true or false wouldn’t matter.

But this time is different.

Mitchell Cronenwirth, who hates being alone…

I stared at Mitchell intently. Mitchell turned his eyes back to the script. His face was expressionless and his posture leaning against the chair back was infinitely confident, but somehow he seemed to be avoiding my gaze. Either that, or he truly didn’t realize his own state.

[…without recognizing the severity of his symptoms…]

A part of the article about Mitchell’s affection deficiency came to mind again.

Does Mitchell Cronenwirth really not know what state he’s in? Celebrities often engage in eccentric behavior. He might just appear somewhat unusual and peculiar.

But if the article’s content is true, it now makes sense why he constantly threw parties and brought people over to hang out. Mitchell’s goal wasn’t an exciting party, but just people.

I could picture the scene of Mitchell sitting alone at a table, nobly reading a script amidst the noisy crowd. Mitchell, doing his own thing while letting others have fun. Ugh, how pitiful.

You don’t care what others do, but you’re a person who absolutely needs someone around. Full of flaws.

Though his eyes were on the script, all his nerves must be on high alert towards me. If he hates being alone, he must surely need even someone like me?

“You’re interesting.”

For some reason, I couldn’t help but laugh.

***

I stepped outside. As I naturally lifted my head, countless stars seemed ready to pour down from the night sky.

I like looking at the sky. Whether day or night, I habitually looked up whenever I came out of stuffy buildings.

Instead of heading to the road, I walked to the front yard. I easily climbed over the low fence and flopped down on the grass in our yard.

My former manager used to freak out whenever I did this. Saying the grass was dirty, there might be bugs, or something about the sponsored clothes.

Did the manager truly not know that his own mind was dirtier than the green grass?

“Bastard. After all I did for him.”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought of the manager who had absconded with my money. A bank account with 100 million won in it. Money wasn’t the problem, but losing faith in people was always painful.

As I forcibly erased thoughts of the manager from my mind, Mitchell naturally came to mind.

A little while ago, Mitchell had been intently reading his script when he suddenly went into his room. I waited cluelessly for a long time before realizing he had sprawled on his bed to sleep. Leaving me behind, Mitchell had turned off his own switch while someone was still there.

He doesn’t care about guests at all, does he?

What’s so interesting.

A total jerk, tough as nails, a tiger that can’t even catch a rabbit.

Muttering all sorts of curses under my breath, that’s how I left Mitchell’s house. Afterwards, feeling unsettled, I couldn’t go straight into my house and ended up lying down in the front yard.

As a cool breeze that seemed to emit a blue light blew in, my sigh scattered with the wind.

“Mitchell, you have a lot of problems too.”

I gazed at one particularly bright star.

“Like me.”

That star was off by itself, alone.

Strangely, I had a feeling I would be seeing him often.