SIDE STORY 1.2

Leaving the beach behind, Seojun arrived at the garden on the first floor of the lodging.  

Through the lit windows, he caught a glimpse of Moonkyeong sitting alone, drinking beer while watching a movie.  

Should I pretend not to notice and strike up a conversation?  

Should I loiter around, acting like I’m bored?  

Even in that brief moment, countless thoughts crossed his mind.  

But Seojun didn’t take a single step toward her.  

In the late hours of the night, when everyone else was lost in indulgence and passion, Seojun felt that such things were beyond his reach.  

It was only after she had gone to bed that Seojun left the garden.  

The lodging, shrouded in darkness, fell silent after Moonkyeong went to sleep.  

Unable to sleep, Seojun went downstairs to get a drink of water.  

After quenching his thirst, he turned back but stopped abruptly.  

He placed the beer cans he had taken from the fridge back on the table and quietly stood in front of Moonkyeong’s door.  

On impulse, he grabbed the doorknob. He told himself he wouldn’t be startled even if she woke up and asked him what he was doing.  

Seojun opened the door.  

As the view before him unfolded, he saw Moonkyeong’s back.  

She was curled up, facing the window, and appeared to be in a deep sleep.  

Judging by her lack of movement at the sound of the door, she seemed to be fast asleep.  

If you were awake, what would I have done?  

Seojun stood in the doorway for a long time before turning back.  

Though he was shaken by the desire to hold her after tearing her apart from head to toe, he decided against it.  

He believed he could endure it a little longer.  

Consumed by his arrogant thoughts, Seojun returned to his room alone.  

The next day, he didn’t expect to be embracing Moonkyeong under the dazzling sunlight, sharing a kiss that left them both breathless.  

He didn’t know he would fall so deeply for her. Not at that time.  

***

Germany’s Stuttgart was the city of cars.  

After Moonkyeong left Moscow, Seojun felt an emptiness in his daily life.  

He learned to drive and even bought a car.  

To fill the time without her, he raced through the streets at night, which gradually sparked his interest in cars.  

But that, too, was short-lived.  

Seojun couldn’t endure it.  

His escapades with Moonkyeong couldn’t simply be erased by distance.  

He missed her. He longed for her. She was still on his mind.  

That was why Seojun found himself in Stuttgart every Wednesday, chasing after Moonkyeong.  

“Are you here alone?”  

While she dedicated herself to rehearsals, Seojun spent his time at the automobile museum.  

Lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed when someone spoke to him.  

“Are you Korean?”  

The woman’s question in Korean prompted Seojun to respond in fluent Russian, muttering a curse under his breath.  

She wouldn’t understand, but the increasing frequency of such encounters was starting to annoy him.  

The woman, startled, hurriedly walked away.  

What is Moonkyeong doing right now?  

Though tempted to adjust the frequency on his phone to hear her voice, Seojun resisted.  

Constantly monitoring her was overwhelming, so he only used the listening device when necessary.  

It was laughable.  

Stalking her daily while pretending to respect her privacy.  

‘I’m only here out of curiosity. Nothing more, nothing less.’  

Cowardly excuses and self-defense.  

Having never experienced love in his life, Seojun dismissed the unfamiliar emotions he felt as something else.  

He didn’t understand.  

***

The sun set, painting the evening sky in a brilliant red.  

It had become Seojun’s favorite time of day.  

On stage, Moonkyeong was like a radiant flower.  

With each passing day, her elegance and unattainable grace captivated more people.  

Her technical prowess and emotional expressiveness were unparalleled.  

After her performance of Giselle, Moonkyeong was promoted to principal dancer.  

Amid the applause and cheers, Seojun watched her radiant smile.  

Just as he smirked, thinking her acting skills had improved, their eyes met.  

He instinctively held his breath.  

Having never been caught before, he assumed this time would be no different.  

But the possibility that she might have noticed him left him flustered.  

Pulling his hat down further, he hurriedly left the theater.  

Fortunately, it seemed Moonkyeong hadn’t recognized his presence.  

A small party was held to celebrate her promotion, and Moonkyeong joined in.  

[Moonkyeong, congratulations. I always knew you’d achieve this.]  

[Thank you.]  

[Are you with the other dancers?]  

[Yes.]  

[That’s good, but don’t drink too much. Be cautious of impulsive advances from the others.]  

[Yes.]  

[Remember, a woman must keep her body clean.]  

[I have to go, the director is calling me.]  

[Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow.]  

Following the voices from the listening device, Seojun once again trailed behind Moonkyeong.  

After leaving the party, she entered a café alone.  

Like someone playing hide-and-seek, Seojun wandered through nearby cafés until he found her.  

On the ground floor of a spacious two-story café, in the farthest corner, he saw her crying.  

The woman who had smiled so beautifully on stage was now sobbing uncontrollably.  

“Would you like to order?”  

When the staff approached, Seojun ordered an espresso without looking at the menu.  

While waiting for his coffee, he tried to distract himself by studying the paintings and abstract patterns on the café walls.  

But all he could truly focus on was Moonkyeong.  

On what should have been the happiest day of her life, she sat alone, crying.  

‘Why are you crying all by yourself like an idiot?’

In the dimly lit night, he sat by the second-floor window. It was the best spot to observe Seo Moonkyeong without being noticed.  

He could see her pearl earrings that clung to her ears, her slender fingers gripping the coffee cup, and even her hair tied tightly into a bun.  

“Sorry. I’m not feeling well, so I returned to the lodging early. Yes, I’ll rest today.”  

Her voice, speaking in still-clumsy German to what seemed to be a fellow dancer, faintly reached him.  

She was trying hard to smooth her face, not wanting anyone to notice she had been crying.  

Even after the call ended, Moonkyeong continued to cry for a long time.  

While she cried, Seojun forgot to drink his coffee. Instead, he pulled out a pen and began scribbling music notes onto a notepad.  

His hand, which had been writing in short bursts, stopped when he saw Moonkyeong rise from her seat, seemingly done crying.  

“Ah.”  

In his attempt to grab the coffee cup, Seojun accidentally knocked it over.  

The hot liquid made him instinctively stand up, and the cup rolled off the table, shattering on the floor with a loud crash.  

The sound of someone running up the stairs echoed.  

Seojun quickly pulled all the cash from his wallet and placed it on the table.  

By the time the staff member arrived to clean up the broken cup, Seojun had already muttered a short apology and slipped past them, heading down the stairs.  

He wished she would just return to the lodging, but Moonkyeong was stubborn.  

After leaving the café, she went alone to another bar.  

‘What are you planning to do there?’  

Seojun sat as far away from her as possible, keeping a wide distance across the long table.  

When she smiled at the staff while ordering vodka, Seojun’s face turned pale.  

Even though he knew the smile wasn’t genuine, it still made him angry.  

‘Didn’t I tell you not to let yourself be so vulnerable?’  

Checking the time on his wristwatch, Seojun ran his fingers through his disheveled hair a few times.  

It was almost time for him to return to Moscow. Normally, he would leave for the airport with his pre-booked ticket right after the performance, so there were no issues.  

But today, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.  

Watching Moonkyeong, chin propped on her hand as she drunkenly chatted with the bartender, made his stomach churn.  

In the end, Seojun missed his flight.  

Sighing, he watched her order another vodka despite already being drunk.  

Seojun wasn’t oblivious to the men around her, their eyes glinting with desire as they stared only at Moonkyeong.  

He had to resist the urge to pull her out of there, kiss her, and hold her close, as if to declare to everyone that she was his and no one else’s.  

‘You’re insane.’  

Seojun left the bar and stepped out onto the street.  

He raised his hand to hail a taxi but suddenly stopped mid-motion.  

This wasn’t the first time.  

He could already picture Moonkyeong’s puffy eyes from crying alone for hours.  

Her dry, cracked lips, worn from trying to erase the exhaustion of the day with alcohol, were vivid in his mind.  

And he could almost see her face, burdened by the thought of tomorrow’s rehearsals.  

“When will you start living properly?”  

Muttering to himself in the cold air, he turned and entered a nearby flower shop.  

He didn’t care about flowers or their meanings, but he gathered all the brightest, most colorful blooms.  

Handing the enormous bouquet to the florist, he gave them the name of the bar Moonkyeong had just entered.  

“Won’t you deliver it yourself?”  

The florist smiled kindly, but Seojun didn’t return the smile.  

“Just include a note.”  

“Oh, a note? What should it say?”  

“Stop looking so miserable and go straight home.”  

The florist, puzzled but obliging, sent the flowers along with a small card.  

Whether she went home immediately that night, Seojun didn’t know.  

He didn’t want to find out.  

Of course, he was conflicted.  

He wasn’t sure if he didn’t want to know whether she went home or if he didn’t want to face his own feelings.  

Either way, he didn’t want to know.