Into The Thrill

"—Who?"
"You wouldn’t know even if I told you. I’m meeting a woman."
"Would you mind saying something I can actually understand?"

"She’s just… an older woman I know."
"An older woman you know? What’s her name?"
"Just someone I know."

"Keep it in check, will you? I’m newly married, so I’m trying to clock out early these days."
Haewon burst out laughing at Woojin’s comment. He had a knack for putting people in a good mood. He only ever said pleasing things, and had a way of hitting you exactly where it tickled most, making it even harder to resist.
When that blunt voice of his spoke such sweet lines, it created a synergy effect that didn’t just make Haewon feel good—it made his heart lurch.

"We’re newlyweds now?"
"Sure. We’re sharing a bed, might even end up with a kid. Isn’t that newlywed enough?"
"Someone might hear you. You’re alone, right?"
He was unmarried. It was Haewon who was worried someone might overhear him.

"—Just don’t overdo it. I won’t sleep until you get back."
"You civil servants are getting bold lately. You should really work on preserving that dignity of yours."
"—Should I come pick you up? Want to call when you’re done?"

"If you show up, I don’t think that noona will be too happy about it."
"—Fine. See you at home then."
If Woojin kept pressing, Haewon had been planning to give in and tell him who he was meeting. But Woojin ended the call with a plain reply, not digging further.

After getting out of the car, Haewon headed toward the restaurant, fussing with his carefully combed hair. Right before going in, he paused in front of a mirror to check his nervous expression one last time.
As he opened the door and stepped inside, a waiter approached.
"Welcome. Do you have a reservation?"

"Do you have one under Dr. Choi Hyunmi?"
"Ah, yes. She arrived earlier and is waiting for you."
The waiter led the way, and Haewon followed while adjusting his clothes the entire time.

He’d gotten Choi Hyunmi’s call after orchestra practice.
They’d exchanged numbers once, when Woojin’s mother was hospitalized with the flu and he’d visited. At the time, Haewon had promised to play for her if the opportunity ever arose.
Woojin had smashed his phone, erasing her contact. He hadn’t intended to answer the unknown number that called recently, but something had felt off, so he picked up—and it turned out to be a stroke of luck.

The caller had been none other than Woojin’s mother, Choi Hyunmi—completely unexpected.
She asked to have dinner with him, just the two of them. Said she didn’t want to see him as her son’s close junior, but as a performer and a fan. It was a strange invitation, but because she was Woojin’s mother, he hadn’t been able to refuse.
Haewon had rushed over straight after work, and though he’d been planning to tell Woojin if he pushed harder, since he hadn’t shown much interest, Haewon figured he’d save it as a fun story to surprise him with later.
Woojin probably wouldn’t say much. Just ask if he’d been polite, if he made a good impression—that’d be enough. He never asked much about things like this. He was oddly indifferent when it came to such matters.

The waiter knocked and opened the door. A table was set on a separate outdoor terrace. Choi Hyunmi was already seated there, gazing around the beautifully arranged garden. She turned her head at the sound of movement.
"Hello."
"Come in."

"It’s been a while."
Haewon bowed deeply, polite enough to be praised for his manners, and sat down in the chair the waiter indicated. As the waiter poured water into his glass, he asked:
"Shall I take your order?"

"Haewon, what do you want to eat?"
"You said I could speak comfortably last time…"
"Ah, that’s right. So, what will you have? Is there anything you’re craving?"

"The T-bone course is pretty good here. Would you like to try that?"
"Let’s go with that."
"How would you like it cooked?"

"I’ll have it medium rare. How about you, ma’am?"
"Well done for me. And instead of spaghetti, bring me the risotto."
"Would you like wine as well?"

"We left a bottle of white here the last time I came with Woojin. Please bring that one."
It was an Italian restaurant he often visited with Woojin. They’d been there not too long ago. The unfinished 2007 Montrachet Grand Cru should still be there.

Once the waiter took their order and left, Haewon found himself facing Choi Hyunmi with growing awkwardness.

"Do you come here often with Woojin?"
"Ah, yes… He’s a bit picky with food. Doesn’t like going just anywhere. Not that we come here often… Just occasionally."
At present, he was living with Woojin. But Woojin wasn’t the type to report those things to his mother, and she likely didn’t know.

Haewon regretted not being more upfront—he should have just told Woojin he was meeting Choi Hyunmi and gotten a better idea of what she wanted.
His mouth went dry from nerves, so he drank water, silently cursing himself. He rarely got nervous around people, but Woojin’s mother was the exception.
He wanted to make a good impression. Wanted to be seen as a good person. The anxious desire kept stirring. He reminded himself that it was better to stay quiet than risk saying something foolish, and decided to wait until she spoke first.

Choi Hyunmi stared at him for a while before slowly fidgeting with the tablecloth. After watching him quietly, she asked,
"Is Woojin treating you well?"
"…Pardon? Ah, yes. He treats me well."

That’s not what she meant. She shook her head gently and looked at him with a solemn gaze.
"I heard."
"…Heard what?"

"That you moved into the Seocho-dong apartment. That you two decided to live together."
"…"
Woojin wasn’t just someone who didn’t keep personal matters from his mother—he was someone who blurted out everything, including things he probably shouldn’t. Haewon stiffened with embarrassment.

"I know that you and Woojin are… something special."
"…"
Haewon had never spoken about living with a man—not to his own parents, and certainly not to someone else’s. And he had no desire to.

Choi Hyunmi’s expression was gentle, without a trace of prejudice, but still—it didn’t make it any easier. Haewon looked away uncomfortably, and she spoke again.
"It’s okay. I just wanted to talk comfortably with you. That’s why I invited you."
"I’m sorry. It’s just… a bit unexpected."

"I didn’t know Woojin had such a loose mouth. But when he thinks something is right, he doesn’t hide it from me. You must be one of those things he thinks is right."
"…"
No matter how proud Woojin might be, Haewon hadn’t expected him to share such personal matters with his mother so casually.

They didn’t even seem that close. Not much warmth between them. They were as distant as any ordinary mother and son. Even when Haewon was with him, he rarely saw Woojin talk to her on the phone. During the day, he barely answered Haewon’s calls. After work, he spent all his time with Haewon—which meant he never called his mother at all.
"To be honest, it was a bit surprising at first. Woojin’s not the type to bring people home. He doesn’t even like it when I visit. So when I saw you at his apartment that day, I was really startled."
"Yes…"

"When he carried you into the hospital while you were sick, he looked so worried. I thought you must be a very dear junior to him."
"…"
Haewon pressed his lips together awkwardly and said nothing. He kept his eyes lowered, staring only at the flickering candle on the table.

"I didn’t call you here to question your relationship or to ask you to break up, so don’t get the wrong idea."
Only then did Haewon look directly at Woojin’s mother. If it wasn’t to confront him about their relationship, there would be no reason to call him out like this—especially not for someone like her, from a family filled with doctors and a reputation to maintain.
"I want to know how Woojin treats you."

Haewon tilted his head. What did she mean by that? Why did she want to know how Woojin behaved with his partner?
"I want to know how he is with you. What kind of person he becomes when he’s with you."
"We’re both adults, but you’re asking about something really personal."

"Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I mean…"
She licked her lips, searching her mind for the right words.
Haewon gave her a puzzled look—just as the food arrived. Wine, bread, steaming soup, and a cold salad were placed on the table. The conversation, interrupted by the waiter, resumed once he left.

"I just wanted to know if Woojin is… you know, dating like a normal person. If he’s treating you well. If he’s not making life hard for someone else’s precious son… That’s what I wanted to ask."
"I don’t really understand what you’re getting at."
"What I mean is…"

Dating like anyone else. Coming to restaurants like this, sharing sweet wine, sneaking kisses in the car beneath a bridge over the Han River, whispering love beneath white sheets that felt like they might someday cradle a child…
Haewon and Woojin were in an ordinary relationship. Nothing more, nothing less than what any couple shared.
At first, they clashed often, refusing to yield to one another. After some major fights and periods of resentment, they began treading more carefully.

Woojin had been the man loved by a dead friend, so at first Haewon had vowed not to get involved. But neither of them could resist the other.
Haewon had made impulsive decisions he couldn’t take back more than once—and after those experiences, he learned to rein in his selfish, willful tendencies. He no longer acted recklessly in front of Woojin. And Woojin, for his part, made a conscious effort to be as kind and considerate as he could, doing his best to make time for him.
Once they’d gotten to know each other’s temperaments, their mutual care and consideration kept conflicts to a minimum.

"Woojin… whether he’s normal or not… No, sorry. I just—if the two of you are doing well, that’s what matters. That’s enough."

"…"
Haewon’s brow twitched slightly. As if to say not to take her words to heart, Choi Hyunmi urged him to eat his soup before it got cold and began her own meal.

Whether Woojin treated him well, whether he made things difficult, whether he was normal…
Normal?
His mother was saying, in not so many words, that Woojin wasn’t normal. That perhaps there was something about him that wasn’t right, and she was trying to figure out if Haewon knew.

Haewon found it harder and harder to understand her intentions. Yes, Woojin had a slightly twisted temperament, but outwardly he was stunning, and inwardly he was upright and steady. He was someone whose outer and inner selves were both admirable—someone Haewon felt lucky to love.
If Woojin had only been beautiful on the outside, Haewon wouldn’t have cared this deeply.
He got bored easily. He’d never really been attached to anything or held on to regrets. If something came, it came; if it left, he let it. He never clung or obsessed. But with Woojin, he hadn’t had the chance to feel bored or indifferent—not once.

Even after more than a year together, Haewon still didn’t have a clear picture of Woojin’s wealth. Woojin wasn’t the kind of man who flaunted money to cover for an empty interior. He was plainspoken and valued comfort. Though his job wasn’t lucrative, he gave his all to it. He worked himself to the bone for a society that didn’t even recognize his efforts.
And when he was worn down from it all, he revealed a childlike vulnerability, seeking Haewon’s warmth and affection. When he leaned on him, Haewon wanted to be someone better—someone capable of giving him comfort and support. He tried to be that person.
Woojin wasn’t perfect just by himself. He made Haewon better too.

He was a good, lovable man.
"I’m not sure I understand everything you’re saying, but if you’re asking about Woojin hyung… he’s a really good person. So good that I don’t want to lose him."
"…"

Haewon spoke plainly, perhaps clumsily, but sincerely. He described what he knew of Woojin—how affectionate he could be, how he woke him in the morning with a gentle touch, how he took care of Haewon’s needs before he even asked. He didn’t spoil him endlessly, either—if Haewon played the "younger partner" card and acted immature, Woojin took on the role of a mature adult without hesitation.
He was a steadfast supporter of Haewon’s performances. And for someone like Haewon, who wasn’t used to living passionately, Woojin became a force to keep him grounded and focused.
Choi Hyunmi said nothing as she listened quietly to everything.

"When I said I wanted to stop putting money into my savings account, he told me I had to keep going—that finishing things was more important than anything. So he kept paying into it for me… And when I got my driver’s license, he gave me a hundred stars."
"Stars? What are stars?"
"It’s just our thing. Hyung has a hard time expressing abstract stuff in words. Like 'a lot,' or 'so much,' or 'really really.' He struggles when there’s no precise number. So we decided to use stars. A hundred stars means he loves me a lot. If we fight, it’s ten stars. If I piss him off, sometimes it goes into the negatives."

"Negatives?"
"When he broke my phone, it was minus three hundred stars. Took a while to bounce back. It wasn’t on purpose—he dropped it out the window while cleaning. My fault too, for leaving it out carelessly."
"And?"

"And… Hyung doesn’t like Montrachet. Says it’s too sweet. But when we come here, he always drinks it anyway."
Haewon swirled the wine glass in his hand. The white wine, about a third full, rippled softly. Choi Hyunmi also ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ looked down at the glass—at the wine her son drank just to please Haewon. She stared at it for a long moment, and her eyes slowly grew damp.
What could feel more powerless to a mother than watching her child fall blindly in love?

Haewon realized he’d ended up gushing about Woojin, bragging about how good he was. Embarrassed, he quickly added:
"And he really cares about his family. He worries about you… your health…"
"Woojin does?"

"Yes. He said your health and his father’s were really important."
"…"
She let out a dry laugh—a laugh that said she didn’t believe it. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and gently dabbed the corners of her eyes. She pressed the rising swell of emotion back down.

"Thank you. Really, thank you. For being with Woojin… Thank you so much."
Her voice, trembling and low, was filled with sincerity.
Was this something to be thanked for?

All Haewon had done was insist that Woojin wasn’t the sort of man his mother seemed to think he was.
Why she would say such things… Haewon couldn’t understand. He figured maybe Woojin was just more reserved with his mother, acting cold and curt like he did with everyone else.
They finished off the white wine together. Haewon wasn’t tipsy, but he still called a driver.

Even as she said goodbye, Choi Hyunmi held Haewon’s hand with reverence, as though she were sending off the saint who had reformed her wayward son. She thanked him again and again, like he was a blessing.
As he got into the car with the driver, Haewon found himself thinking:
Just what had Woojin done at home, that his mother treated the man he lived with as if he were some lifelong benefactor?

It’s not like Woojin had never been with anyone before…
His fiancée had been so devoted that she chose to become a doctor just to fit into his family. The families had known each other for years—surely Choi Hyunmi knew her well. That woman wasn’t just wealthy—she was beautiful, talented, and full of warmth. Someone completely different from Haewon.
That woman had been Woojin’s fiancée.

Haewon was more confused than ever.
The fact that Choi Hyunmi hadn’t screamed at him, yanked his hair, or thrown water in his face just for living with Woojin—he considered that a blessing.
He’d never met the parents of anyone he dated before, much less received their approval or held any sort of official relationship.

And yet Choi Hyunmi had practically begged him—please stay with Woojin, don’t leave him.
Was that even possible?
What would his mother have done?

His birth mother, a musician herself, might not have tried to stop him—but she wouldn’t have approved, either. That would’ve been the normal reaction. Especially if the person in question had a bright future like Woojin.
Normal… Did that mean this wasn’t normal?
Did it mean there was something wrong with Woojin? Some fatal flaw?

Haewon closed his eyes. He was tired. His eyes stung. He shut them tightly, then opened them again. The busy streets of a summer night blurred past the window.
He was staring out when his phone rang. He reached into his pocket.