Why Am I the Only One
"Why am I the only one you're treating differently?!"
A top idol, camping out like a vagrant in front of some guy's studio door since dawn.
I was staring down at her in a daze, struck by how long it had been since I'd seen that face, when Han Seoyeon sensed me and slowly lifted her head. She must have dozed off. The makeup on her face had smudged, just a little.
"...You're here?"
Even her voice was thick with sleep. Beside her sat a convenience-store bag holding a finished fruit pouch and a bone-dry water bottle.
No way. Had she been out here all night?
"It's not even summer yet..."
A blue cardigan and a short purple skirt. The air of an early-spring dawn was still too sharp to sit through with bare legs, and she'd been crouched so long that the pale thighs showing beneath her hem were stamped with angry red marks.
Those were the same legs she'd climbed onto the bed and kept spread all night, of her own accord. I wrenched my eyes off the space between them, because the memory came flooding back of every time I'd driven my cock in there.
"Where the hell were you? A part-time job? What kind of fucking job keeps you out all night?"
"...Yeah, weekends I work nights. But—you actually came back? You disappeared for days."
Days. It had only been three, if you actually counted, and still I'd said it like I'd been keeping track of every single one. Honestly, though, over those three days the hand wrapped around my cock had been busier than usual. Even if she was treating me like a tool, I couldn't stop turning over what Han Seoyeon had said—that she'd been satisfied, and that she'd come again.
"Hahh... I'm seriously gonna lose it."
Worse, the moment I closed my eyes it played on a loop: my cock sinking raw into Shim Sona's pussy, and the silhouette of Han Seoyeon taking the condom-wrapped thing with herself spread open. I didn't need porn. Just gripping myself and remembering was enough to make me spill almost at once.
But time ground on, and once I was stuck living nothing but my actual life, it started to sting. No matter how cock-starved those women were, what could top stars possibly be missing that would send them back to a studio reeking of mold? Shim Sona was probably furious that I'd cum inside her and passed out on the spot. And to Han Seoyeon I'd been nothing but a Safe Dildo—the kind that only got used with a condom on—so for all I knew she'd already found a better cock.
Even so, I was a male loyal to his instincts. Every time a moving job ended and I climbed the stairs, I caught myself checking the entryway first. So much as a shadow by the door and my heart jumped ahead of me. Sometimes, too shameless to even notice, my cock reacted first.
I'd only just, barely, started to forget—when Han Seoyeon narrowed her eyes beneath the cap and looked up at me.
"You don't have a number in my phone, sunbae."
"Of course I don't. Even in high school you were so strict about privacy they made you wipe your numbers and contacts on a regular basis."
"Yeah, that's right. So how did you get ahold of me back then?"
"Your manager told me."
At that, Han Seoyeon blinked. She frowned as if digging through old memories, then tilted her head, the look on her face saying she still didn't get it.
"My manager told you?"
"Yeah. I was a club president your managers actually trusted. Forgot?"
"Oh, right. If I said I was going with you, sunbae, the manager let me go without much fuss."
She muttered it like the memory had only just come back, then tried to stand and swayed. Her legs clearly hadn't unkinked yet. Only after she braced a hand against the battered wall and found her balance did she pull her phone from the cardigan pocket and thrust it at me.
"Put it in."
"Huh?"
"Your number. I'm a third-year now, so the manager doesn't check."
Wait. Was an idol seriously asking for my number?
I racked my brain for a single time in my life someone had asked me first. There had been one. After I aged out of the orphanage and landed in a self-reliance center, a district-office clerk took my number because the city was obligated to sponsor me for a year. Beyond that, nothing came to mind. Auditions, part-time jobs—I was almost always the one writing my number down and holding it out with both hands.
So I cleared my throat, loud and pointless, and typed it in.
"...Ahem. Here."
The second Han Seoyeon took the phone back, she called me on the spot. A moment later my pants pocket buzzed.
"Save mine too."
"...Yeah."
"And from now on, if I call, you pick up. No exceptions. If you're working, at least text me."
What is this. Nobody's ever treated me like this. If I can't answer, leave a text? And Han Seoyeon is the one saying it to me?
"You like that?"
Without meaning to, the corner of my mouth must have crept up the way it used to in high school. She caught it with uncanny precision, eyes narrowing under the cap as she let out a short laugh.
"But why'd you fuck that actress bitch Shim Sona raw? I heard you even told her to spread her legs first."
The moment the rest of it left her mouth, the smile froze right where it was.
"She was bragging that you shoved your cock in first. I had to spread myself."
So they'd been comparing notes again. They'd already spilled the number of times and the address, and now they were chatting about who spread how, and who got it raw. At this point it wasn't even anger. It was just strange.
Who the hell was I? Nothing but a nameless jjindda working part-time out of a studio that stank of mold. And yet, listening to them, you'd think I'd turned into some insanely successful stud. In reality my one dick had simply—gloriously—gotten dragged into their pride war.
Fuck. Knowing that, it still felt kind of good. Maybe because I'd gone my whole life without a woman ever really looking my way. Just the fact that two pretty juniors were comparing notes over my one cock sent a swell of smugness surging up inside me.
...Dumbass.
Other guys might find this a pain. And here I was, shoulders already rising because I'd gotten a little more attention than I deserved. This was why I'd been a jjindda my whole life. People really shouldn't be handed treatment above their station all at once. A jjindda, least of all.
"I—I only helped because she said she was shooting some adult film, chasing Cannes or whatever, and asked me to practice with her. I just went along with what she wanted. I mean, I'm—I'm still a male actor, even if nobody knows my name."
Even so, feeling pleased—no, forcing a big show of being flustered—I stammered my way through an excuse that had no business in a life like mine.
"Acting practice? With your bare cock?"
Han Seoyeon snorted, exactly as I'd expected. Through makeup that was smearing worse by the second, her eyes flashed, sharp and mean.
"Fuck. If I'd known, I should've asked you to practice acting with me too. Right? Idols do a shit-ton of facial acting up on stage, you know?"
The more she talked, the hotter she burned, until even the corner of her mouth twisted.
"Whatever. I'm actually curious, so I'm only gonna ask one thing. Did I not turn you on?"
"What...?"
"You shoved it in that actress bitch's pussy raw without even asking, but with me you bailed because you didn't have a condom. So what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Oh. She meant that moment before we had sex, when I'd hesitated over not having a condom. I'd been a clueless excuse for a man back then, and I'd only asked—carefully, almost like I was muttering to myself—because I was afraid going into Han Seoyeon's pussy raw would come back to bite both of us. Had she really decided I'd slapped a safety lock on my cock because her pussy didn't turn me on?
I shook my head in a hurry.
"I'm telling you, it really was acting! And I had a little revenge in me, too."
"Revenge?"
"Y-yeah. You have no idea how much she used to order me aroun—"
"So did I!! I worked you like a dog too, sunbae!!!!"
Agh. My ears. Figures a singer would have a set of lungs on her, disgustingly good ones. Thank god I was the only person living on this floor. Otherwise someone would've already flung a door open, yelling about what crazy bitch was screaming her head off at dawn.
"So why won't you do it to me? Why am I the only one you're treating differently!! Shouldn't I get the exact same thing for it to be fair?"
But Han Seoyeon kept at it, going so far as to wrench at the sleeve of her cardigan.
"You..."
Every time she yanked that sleeve, the front of the cardigan gaped, and those big breasts swung free underneath. Definitely no bra. Breasts so big you couldn't have called them small even while Shim Sona was torturing your cock. Fuck, there was no way I was focusing. Every bounce dragged my eyes with it, and for a second it felt like her rant was only going in one ear.
"...So you want my cock shoved in your pussy raw, the same way as Shim Sona?"
I threw it back at her on purpose, crude words I usually kept out of my mouth. I figured that would seize the gaze drifting toward her chest like I was spellbound, and throw her off enough to drop the volume.
"No. More."
"Huh...?"
"More than that actress bitch."
Wait, what?? So rather than come up short against Shim Sona, she was going to go even further?? Fuck. On nothing but a pride war, how far was she planning to take this?
"All I know is what it feels like with a condom on. That actress bitch knows the real thing. Fuck, that is so unfair!"
"Y-you're the one who bought them. You said you couldn't go get a morning-after pill, and you're the one who put the condom on my cock yourself."
That was the truth. No matter how raw I'd gone with Shim Sona, the one who had bought those condoms at the convenience store, slipped one over her fingers, and held it out had been Han Seoyeon, not me. Grilling me now for wearing one was a contradiction, plain and simple.
Her mouth fell open, then shut. But the peace lasted only a moment. The momentum she'd been losing vanished like it had never been there, and she stepped in closer instead.
"That's that and this is this!! Fuuuuck!! It was the same in high school! That actress bitch said one 'hey' and you went running, but me? I had to smile with my eyes and go, 'Sunbae~, mind if I ask a favor?'—all that bullshit—just to get you to barely listen!!?"
"Wh-when did I ever do that! I treated you and Shim Sona exactly the same. If anything, I tried harder to say yes to you. You're the one who smiled all sweet and asked like that on purpose, to protect your image! Why are you making it my fault now..."
And that was true, too. Han Seoyeon had been terrifyingly good at managing her image since high school.
"...Whatever. You told me to come again, sunbae."
"Huh...?"
"You're the one who asked first if I'd come back to you."
But why... is she crying?
"Did you say the same thing to Shim Sona? Answer me."
No. Why Shim Sona again.
Fuck. Whatever this was between the two of them, it didn't feel like a simple pissing contest anymore.