Dirty Switch

As expected, it seemed none of the guests intended to leave before seeing His Highness Prince Yi Hwang—the line snaked endlessly along the wall in a tightly packed coil.
“Come to think of it, weren’t you this small?”
Seo Baekhan lowered his hand roughly to the level of his own solar plexus and tilted his head. Then he dropped it to about his navel and, thinking that wasn’t quite right, lifted it slightly again, repeating the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ motion.

“I was that short?”
“Maybe not… Maybe a bit taller. When did we last see each other again?”
And Joo Taehyun, inwardly, was shocked. Was he really that tiny in Baekhan’s memory? He remembered people saying he was tall for his age back then… Still, he didn’t let his pride show. These days, Joo Taehyun could easily maintain a blank, emotionless expression, like someone who felt nothing. Even more than when Baekhan once complimented him for not showing his emotions on his face.

“It was at the National Palace Museum event, right?”
“Pardon?”
“The first day I saw you.”

“That was…”
Did he just say it was the museum, not the concert? Did he mishear?
Startled, Taehyun blinked in silence, while Baekhan casually rolled his neck and tried to dig through his muddled memories.

“Two years ago—no, wait, it must’ve been three. I remember you were wearing this ridiculously flashy tailcoat.”
He’d never ridden a roller coaster because he didn’t find them interesting, but if he had, it might’ve felt like this—like hot blood had rushed straight down to his feet, leaving his head drained and cold as ice.
It wasn’t intentional, but Taehyun found himself completely at a loss for words. That confusion quietly spilled into a subtle resentment toward Baekhan.

How… how could he not remember? The Empress herself had personally invited them. It was held at Changgyeong Palace. How could he forget something like that?
The words teetered on the tip of his tongue, but Joo Taehyun swallowed them down, like a proper grown-up. He wasn’t twelve anymore.
…And he didn’t want to look like someone who’d been quietly treasuring a night that Seo Baekhan had completely forgotten.

“Ah, wait. The palace… Yeah, it might’ve been Changgyeong.”
Baekhan muttered belatedly, like something had finally clicked. His face looked smeared with fatigue.
“It was a concert, right?”
Joo Taehyun just nodded. He didn’t have anything to say. Maybe Baekhan had just forgotten because he was exhausted.

“Right. I remember now. You ate a lot that day.”
If that was the case, then resenting him felt childish. He did remember, after all. Shouldn’t he be thankful? Even now, despite being busy and tired, Baekhan was here, staying by his side.
“My brother sent me over so I wouldn’t be alone… That’s why, right?”

“Nope. You think I’d just blindly do what I’m told?”
His mood, which had slumped, quickly bounced back. Of course—it was Seo Baekhan, after all. There was no way he would forget something he’d personally chosen to be part of.
Still, knowing he was the only one who’d held onto that summer night as something precious—it made his shoulders droop just a little. That night, which had become a guiding star in his life, had been just another day for Seo Baekhan.

Taehyun lowered his head. A new wave of bitterness washed over him.
In truth, even if Baekhan hadn’t remembered the summer concert, it wouldn’t have been something to blame him for. To Taehyun, it had been a landmark first public event. But for Baekhan, it was just another royal engagement among countless others.
Seven years older, not a friend, not a classmate abroad, not someone who knew Taehyun beyond search engine blurbs. For Baekhan, he probably meant nothing.

They had only met once, at that concert.
Taehyun had asked his family for Baekhan’s contact, reached out under the pretense of sending thanks—and since then, he had always been the one initiating contact.
Trying to grow close to someone, to make yourself known so they might grow fond of you—it was far more exhausting than he had imagined. Through his attempts at staying in touch with Baekhan, he had realized just how much effort it took to be liked by someone as a fellow human being.

Maybe it was because his brothers and sister always doted on him and found him adorable… He must’ve unconsciously assumed that Baekhan would naturally welcome his messages, and of course, find him cute too.
“Now that I’m seeing you up close, you’re tall, but you’re so thin.”
“Me?”

“Yeah. Your waist is tiny. That suit—it’s custom, right? The Haechi uniform’s going to be way too loose on you.”
“Wait, what?”
Baekhan suddenly tugged him closer by placing both hands around his waist and yanking him forward.

“H-hyung?”
“I knew it. Your waist is way too narrow.”
With a serious face, Baekhan pressed gently around his waist. His arms were long, so despite the gap between them, and even though he wasn’t touching bare skin—Taehyun’s face turned beet red as if someone had splashed him with a full pot of crimson paint.

Like a fish flung onto land, forgetting how to breathe. Like a frog stunned speechless after being struck by a stone. In short, he probably didn’t look great right now.
“Guess all the weight went into your height. The uniform’s not something we can tailor like a custom suit, so you’ll just have to wear it as is. Or bulk up.”
Baekhan picked up a champagne flute. Taehyun knew he was legally an adult, but there was still something surreal about watching him naturally reach for alcohol. Especially since the other drink in Baekhan’s hand—a glass of orange juice—was clearly meant for him.

And that tiny detail made him feel as though a rift had opened between them, one that couldn’t be crossed.
“Then… hyung, does a guy need a thick waist to look good?”
“Well, not necessarily... but maybe it’s better than looking too skinny. I mean, it’s just personal preference.”

Personal preference.
As he accepted the glass of juice Baekhan handed him, Taehyun repeated the phrase in his mouth. It felt like a grown-up word, just like the champagne. Something only adults were allowed to have. After all, he hadn’t been given juice because someone considered his taste—just because he was young.