* * *
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The violent pounding on the door broke the silence of the motel room for the first time in two weeks.
It was rough, urgent, and unrelenting.
Crouched in the corner of the bed, Yoonwoo slowly turned his head toward the noise, dazed, but didn’t move.
Maybe it was just in his head.
Even if it was real, he figured he could just ignore it.
But the knocking didn’t stop. It only grew louder.
Then, from beyond the door, came a voice he recognized—one that now felt too heavy to hear.
“Seo Yoonwoo! I know you’re in there! What the hell are you doing, not answering your phone?! Open the damn door!”
It was Kang Seoyeon.
How did she… find this place?
Yoonwoo was briefly shaken, but quickly turned his head away again, exhausted by everything.
He didn’t want to see anyone.
Especially not in this pathetic, broken state.
He just wanted to disappear quietly.
“Hey! Seo Yoonwoo! You really not gonna open this door?! You know how I am! I’m counting to ten. Open up before I break it down! One, two…!”
Her voice kept rising, and she sounded like she meant it.
Knowing her, she probably would break the door.
Reluctantly, Yoonwoo forced his creaking body up.
He braced himself against the wall to steady his dizziness, then staggered toward the door, his hand trembling as he reached for the doorknob.
When the door opened, Seoyeon stood there, arms crossed and expression frozen.
Since graduating from university, they hadn’t seen much of each other—too busy, always with excuses.
Lately, they’d only exchanged the occasional call or message for work.
But even so, she remained one of the very few people Yoonwoo could still lean on.
Seeing him now—his greasy, unwashed hair, sunken eyes, dry and cracked lips, crumpled and stained clothes—and the wreck of a room behind him, she quickly took it all in and let out a long sigh.
Her eyes held worry, pity… and unmistakable anger.
“…What the hell are you doing here like this?”
Her low voice echoed through the room.
The moment he heard that firm voice, something inside Yoonwoo cracked.
All those years—eight of them—denied by Joowon’s betrayal.
All the joy and sorrow buried in that time.
Everything he’d tried desperately to suppress for the past two weeks—
It all came rushing out at once.
The dam he’d built with forced smiles and feigned indifference finally gave way.
Faced with someone who recognized him, who worried for him, who had come all this way just for him—he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“…Huuk.”
With a faint gasp, tears suddenly burst from his eyes like a flood.
Once they started, they wouldn’t stop.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed against the doorframe, unable to support his crumbling body.
“Heueeung… S-seonbae… hngh… I… huuuee…”
Seoyeon had never seen him like this.
Yoonwoo, always so composed, always neat—now crying like a child.
She stood there for a moment, lost for words.
Then, without asking a single question, she quietly stepped inside, shut the door, and crouched beside him.
And there she stayed, waiting silently by his small, fragile back until his sobs finally began to calm.
In that empty motel room, for a long, long time, the only sound that filled the air was Yoonwoo’s heart-wrenching cries.
Who knew how much time passed?
At last, when his shoulders had begun to settle, Seoyeon asked in a low voice:
“…Can you tell me what happened?”
Yoonwoo stared at Seoyeon with empty eyes.
Then, very slowly, he began to recount the hellish events he had experienced a few weeks ago—the sounds he heard outside the hotel room door, the scene of betrayal he witnessed when he opened it, Joowon’s crazed, unfamiliar face and violent rejection, and finally, the cruel breakup that followed once he returned home.
His voice was dry, stripped of emotion, but the content of his story was devastating.
The detached way he spoke, like he was telling someone else’s story, only made him seem more fragile.
Seoyeon’s expression grew colder as she listened.
Her fists slowly clenched white with anger.
The moment Yoonwoo finished speaking, she exploded.
“…That bastard—is he out of his damn mind?!”
Her voice was laced with razor-sharp fury, completely unlike her usual calm and rational self.
“How could he do that to a partner of eight years? A rut? Instinct? What a pathetic excuse! Blaming his own actions on his damn biology? Hey, Seo Yoonwoo!”
She grabbed Yoonwoo by the shoulders and shook him.
“Wake up! None of this is your fault! That asshole is the one who’s in the wrong—every bit of it! Not because you’re a Beta, but because he’s a goddamn waste of a human being! Got it?!”
She hurled insults at Joowon without hesitation.
Seeing her rage on his behalf, Yoonwoo felt tears begin to well up again—but he forced them back.
“I know… I do…”
He murmured weakly. But deep inside, another voice echoed louder.
“Is it really not my fault? Wasn’t I discarded because I’m a Beta? No matter how hard I tried, maybe an Alpha’s instincts are just impossible to fight. If I had been an Omega… would he have stayed?”
The memories of being unloved even by his own family because of his secondary gender, layered over this betrayal, choked him with unbearable self-loathing.
He lowered his head and continued speaking.
“…It’s all over now, sunbae. I let it all go. I don’t even feel anything anymore.”
His voice was filled with deep resignation and exhaustion.
It was clear he no longer had the strength to be angry or even sad.
Seoyeon looked at him with eyes full of sorrow.
As he sat collapsed on the floor, the sleeve of his shirt rode up slightly, revealing the faint remnants of bruises on his wrist.
His arm moved unnaturally as he instinctively held his side.
Her expression hardened further.
“Yoonwoo… you still have bruises.”
Her voice dropped, cold and quiet.
“He really is insane, isn’t he? That bastard needs to rot in jail. No—never mind that. First, we’re going to the hospital. You can’t keep going like this.”
She looked ready to drag him there on the spot.
But Yoonwoo shook his head and pulled his wrist out of her sight, avoiding her gaze.
“…I’m fine. It’s nothing. They’re mostly healed. I don’t need a hospital.”
His voice carried no conviction.
The wounds on his body didn’t matter to him.
He had no intention of getting a medical report or pressing charges against Joowon.
He just wanted to forget everything and escape this miserable situation.
Seoyeon was momentarily speechless at his refusal.
“Does that look healed to you? Are you an idiot? You could have a fracture, and if you don’t get it treated now, you could end up with permanent damage! Get up. Now.”
She scolded him, her voice thick with frustration and grief.
But Yoonwoo didn’t budge.
His eyes remained blank, like someone who had let go of all will to live.
Seoyeon let out a deep sigh.
Forcing him to the hospital clearly wasn’t the answer.
Right now, his emotional wounds seemed far more severe than his physical ones.
She sighed again and crouched down beside him.
From her bag, she pulled out a wet towel and a small bag of bread.
“Start by washing your face. Then eat this.”
She pressed the towel and bread into his hands.
There was no pity in her actions, no cheap comfort—just simple, practical care.
Yoonwoo stared at her blankly for a moment, then reluctantly wiped his face and took a bite of the bread.
It was the first taste of real food he’d had in days.
“…Thank you, sunbae.”
“That’s enough.”
Seoyeon answered curtly and stood up.
Looking around the dusty, suffocating room, she said firmly:
“You can’t keep living like this. You’re going to seriously fall apart.”
There was no way she could leave him alone in this filthy, cold motel room.
He needed to get away from this cursed city, away from the ghost of Cha Joowon.
After a moment of thought, she seemed to come to a decision.
“This isn’t going to work. You can’t stay here another day.”
Her tone was resolute.
She pulled her phone from her bag and quickly tapped on the screen.
A moment later, she held it out to Yoonwoo.
On the screen was a confirmation page for a same-day plane ticket from Gimpo to Jeju.
“Let’s go to Jeju, Yoonwoo.”
“…What?”
Yoonwoo blinked up at her, stunned.
* * *
