* * *

“One more sip and you’ll be done. Just drink up already.”

The initial panic and anger had slowly subsided, and now he felt a small sense of pride at having overcome this hurdle.

He could finally take a good look at the baby’s face and size, and he noticed his tiny mouth working so hard to drink.

“You know, you’re kind of cute, just like me. You should be grateful.”

With the baby in his arms and the bottle in his hand, Yiryeong plopped down on the small, narrow sofa in the cramped apartment.

Only then did he start to notice his surroundings.

The dim lighting, baby items piled everywhere, an old TV that looked like it belonged in another era, and neatly folded clothes stacked on the floor.

There were no wardrobes or storage cabinets in sight. Peeking into the bedroom through the open door, he saw a fabric closet with a zipper, but there was no bed, mirror, or dresser in sight.

Even though everything was neatly organized, the place still looked cluttered.

To Yiryeong, it was like a house straight out of a TV drama.

He had been wealthy all his life, never once felt short on money, and had never been cast in a role that required him to act poor.

This space was something he thought only existed in another world, yet here he was, sitting in it, holding a baby he never thought he’d ever hold in his life.

“This can’t be real.”

Even if someone had told him this would happen a week ago, he would have never believed it.

Yiryeong looked around the room in amazement before glancing back down at the baby.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing spitting it out?”

The baby’s face and chin were soaked with formula, and some had even dribbled onto Yiryeong’s clothes.

Apparently, the baby had drunk enough to be full and was now spitting out the rest.

Formula was smeared not only around the baby’s mouth but also on Yiryeong’s clothes.

He frowned deeply and hurriedly grabbed whatever was closest to wipe his clothes first.

“Hey, little one. Can’t you just spit it out on your own clothes? Do you know how expensive this is…?”

Yiryeong’s sharp tone seemed to amuse the baby, who suddenly smiled.

It was a random newborn smile with no real meaning, but it made Yiryeong feel irritated.

However, there was no point in getting into an argument with a newborn.

After wiping his clothes, he also wiped the baby’s face with the same cloth and then sat there, lost in thought.

Before Dogwon ran out, he had definitely said something about what to do next, but in all the confusion, neither of them had been in a state to properly listen or explain, so nothing came to mind.

Yiryeong considered looking it up on his phone but decided to just sit there holding the baby.

Without the sound of crying, the house felt eerily quiet.

Noise from outside came through the walls as if they didn’t exist, but inside the house, there was nothing but the hum of the refrigerator, making the already unfamiliar place feel even emptier.

While waiting and wondering how much longer he’d have to stay like this, the baby made a strange noise.

Not only was the sound odd, but something smelled off as well.

Looking down, he saw that the baby had once again smeared white milk around its mouth from its recent feeding.

“Did you throw up?”

Startled, he quickly lifted the baby with both hands, pulling it away from his body. Milk began to trickle from the baby’s mouth.

The baby’s head drooped since it couldn’t hold it up properly, and in a panic, he hugged the baby close again.

The baby, with a clueless expression, kept spitting out the milk, so he headed to the bathroom, wet his hands, and started to wipe the baby’s face, causing the baby to whimper in displeasure.

“You’re not sick, right? You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Yiryeong anxiously grabbed his phone, holding the fussy baby, and began searching for information about why babies throw up.

When he saw that it was usually not something too serious, he sighed in relief.

“Hey, where’s your dad? Do you know? How long am I supposed to wait?”

The baby just made a few chewing motions with its mouth, clearly not answering.

Being alone like this was unsettling.

He knew nothing about babies—no, the baby needed someone else, someone he had briefly heard about but couldn’t remember.

Yiryeong searched the house, hoping to find some clue about where the man had gone.

Meanwhile, the baby in his arms, perhaps frustrated by something, started crying again.

Honestly, even holding the baby was uncomfortable.

The baby kept squirming, making him anxious, and the baby couldn’t possibly be comfortable either.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You want to go to your dad, right? Please, just be quiet.”

The whining that had started as a faint grumble soon escalated into a piercing cry that felt like it was going to burst his eardrums.

It was almost unbelievable that such a small body could produce such a loud sound.

After a few failed attempts to soothe the baby by rocking it in his arms, he gave up and continued searching the room.

In a fabric wardrobe, he found a few business cards tucked inside a jacket.

Yiryeong searched the company names on the cards with his phone, but by then, the baby’s face had turned bright red, and it was sobbing loudly, tears streaming down its cheeks.

“Hey, hey. Little one.”

The high-pitched wailing was so loud it seemed to vibrate through his entire body, making him worry that something was seriously wrong with the baby.

Despite not feeling much attachment to the baby, Yiryeong couldn’t help but panic at the sight of the tiny thing crying so desperately.

He hastily put down his phone, picked up the baby, and paced around the room.

He tried rocking the baby, patting its bottom, and even sang every lullaby he could remember, but the baby’s crying didn’t stop, and its face turned so red it seemed ready to burst.

Even though he hadn’t wanted to take on this responsibility, the thought of something happening to the baby under his care was terrifying.

Yiryeong’s already pale face turned even whiter as he quickly grabbed his coat. One thought dominated his mind:

‘I need to find the baby’s father.’

Biologically, he was the father too, but right now, they needed someone who could take charge of the situation.

He picked up the phone he had tossed aside, grabbed a hat and sunglasses, and was about to head out when he noticed the baby’s thin clothing.

No matter how clueless he was, he knew he couldn’t take the baby out into the chilly March night dressed like that.

He hurriedly searched for some of the baby’s clothes.

But the idea of dressing the baby terrified him.

The baby’s limbs were so tiny that he feared they might break if he wasn’t careful.

Instead of dressing the baby, Yiryeong compromised by wrapping it up. He tied the baby’s clothes around its body like a strap and grabbed a towel from the bathroom to wrap the baby tightly.

The baby paused its crying, perhaps confused by the situation, but Yiryeong knew he had to get out before the baby started crying again.

Ding dong―.

The old doorbell rang.

The baby still whimpered, but it wasn’t crying as loudly as before.

Holding the baby wrapped in a towel, Yiryeong ran to the door.

Maybe the baby’s father had returned?

He opened the door with a desperate expression, but instead, a strange woman stood there, her face full of anger.

“Excuse me! Can you do something about that baby crying…!”

Silence hung between them for a moment.

The baby, who had been whimpering, began crying loudly again, and Yiryeong hastily raised his hand to cover his face.

“Yo, Yoon Yiryeong…!”

The woman, who had been scowling in anger, now pointed at Yiryeong in shock.

‘Damn it.’

Her eyes swept over him, from his head to his feet, taking in the baby in his arms and the old, shabby apartment behind them.

In this run-down semi-basement apartment, holding a baby wrapped in a towel, someone had recognized him. Yiryeong had never felt so humiliated in his life.

“You’ve got the wrong person.”

He turned slightly to hide the baby and looked away to conceal his face.

He tried lowering his voice as much as possible, but she had already recognized him. It wasn’t surprising; after all, she had seen his face without sunglasses or a hat.

“Lies! You’re Yoon Yiryeong! Why are you here? I’m a huge fan. And that baby? Is that the baby from the news? Is it true? Is it?”

“No, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“No way. It’s definitely you. Oh my god, oh my god.”

She was now leaning in even closer, determined to confirm his identity.

With the baby crying and the woman’s invasive gaze, Yiryeong desperately twisted his body to avoid her.

A bizarre game of hide and seek began between the neighbor, who was determined to confirm her suspicions, and Yiryeong, who was desperate not to be discovered in this situation.

As Yiryeong debated whether he should push her away and make a run for it, the voice he had been waiting for finally came.

“Why are you outside?”

It seemed the man had been worried after all, as he appeared at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath as if he had rushed back.

Yiryeong had never been so relieved to see anyone in his life.

The man seemed to radiate light like a savior, and Yiryeong almost burst into tears.

But that joy quickly turned into anger, as it was this man who had left him in this mess.

“Get up here, now!”

Yiryeong urgently climbed the stairs and grabbed Dogwon’s hand, pulling him close while still keeping his face turned away to hide his identity.

* * *