Peanut Butter
On Christmas Day itself, the house was bustling with people.
"Jinbae, this looks about done. I'll move it onto the plates."
"Oh, thank you."
While Junghyun hyung and Jinbae hyung were busy ferrying food onto serving dishes, Han Haram hovered at their elbows.
"Um… can I carry that one?"
It was pretty adorable, the way the little guy wriggled in beside them, determined to help in his own small way.
"Of course. We'd appreciate the help."
Jinbae hyung was apparently of the same mind, and he smiled as he handed Han Haram a small plate.
"Ijun hyung, how was Italy?"
"It was amazing…!"
Seong Ijun and Noh Bihyuk, supposedly reunited after a long time apart, had been chattering away for over an hour. Impressive, the both of them. Truly.
"Seriously… best trip of my life."
"It was that good? I'm jealous. I've wanted to go too. Did you get to see the Colosseum, by any chance?"
"Yeah, on the second day. Didn't Yeonjae tell you?"
"That guy never says a word about his shoots. Says something might go wrong if he does."
As Noh Bihyuk grumbled, Seong Ijun laughed and said that sounded just like Yeonjae.
Their faces, lit up with easy laughter, were genuinely nice to see….
I'm exhausted.
Amazing stamina, all of them. The party hadn't even properly started yet — why was I this sleepy?
I should sneak off to my room for a bit.
I was waiting for a lull in the chaos to make my escape when, of all people, Nam Inhu caught me red-handed.
"Where are you going?"
"……I need something from my room. Just for a second."
"Oh, that's hilarious. You're going to go lie down on your bed."
Couldn't argue with that.
I stood there half-crouched in retreat, and Nam Inhu grabbed my sleeve to stop me.
"What? Something wrong?"
"No, it's just… a little awkward."
"…? Me?"
We'd seen each other plenty since Twins wrapped. What could possibly be awkward now?
When I tilted my head and asked, Nam Inhu gave me a look of pure exasperation.
"Not you. Him, over there."
With a jerk of his chin, Nam Inhu gestured discreetly to the side.
There stood Lee Euntaek.
In the middle of a party where everyone wore expressions of easy joy, his face alone was shadowed dark.
Nam Inhu spoke with visible discomfort.
"He said he was Ijun hyung's friend, so I figured he'd be similar, but… how do I put this — cold? His whole face is dark. I guess something must've happened."
"Probably."
"You know him too, right? Is he always this quiet? Maybe I'm imagining it, but he seems especially frosty toward me. …I think he might be ignoring me."
Nam Inhu muttered under his breath.
It was a sight I hadn't seen in a long while, either.
I swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape and asked, as casually as I could manage.
"Hyung, remember when you first met Bihyuk?"
"Huh?"
"I think you said pretty much the same thing back then. That Bihyuk was ignoring you."
The day Nam Inhu first met Noh Bihyuk, he'd watched him doting on Seong Ijun and concluded that Bihyuk was brushing him off because he wasn't famous enough.
Nam Inhu had apologized first afterward, and the two got along fine from then on.
No need to make the same mistake twice.
I looked at Nam Inhu.
"Euntaek hyung might be ignoring you, but he might not be."
"……."
"Why not talk to him a little more first? He might just be awkward. You and I have met a bunch of times, but this kind of gathering is new to him."
Well — it didn't exactly look like awkwardness, to be fair.
The expression I'd glimpsed on his face seemed closer to unease than embarrassment.
I stared at Lee Euntaek, who looked as uncomfortable as a man wearing clothes two sizes wrong.
Then why did he come at all.
While I was puzzling over it, Nam Inhu let out a sigh.
"You're right. That was paranoid of me just now. I'll actually talk to him first."
"Yeah."
"Ha, why is my inferiority complex this bad? I've tried to fix my personality before, and… no matter how hard I try, it never really works."
Nam Inhu scratched the back of his head, wearing the face of a man so disgusted with himself he could die for it. I snorted.
"Nobody's perfect, hyung."
Look at how many people can't even see themselves objectively.
"You're fine as you are. That personality of yours is perfectly serviceable."
"……Was that an insult or a compliment?"
Nam Inhu asked, looking genuinely unsure. I elaborated.
"There are as many personalities as there are people. You couldn't count them all."
"True…?"
"And every one of them comes with its own strengths and flaws."
Kindness can shade into being a pushover; honesty can curdle into rudeness.
Some people are so busy handing out warmth to everyone else that they miss their own share of life, while others act selfishly toward the whole world yet would never let their own family go hungry.
Seen that way, there's no such thing as a perfect personality.
Even what counts as a "good" personality shifts depending on the measuring stick you use.
Which is why "fixing your personality" is a sentence that makes no sense. Fixed by whose standard, exactly?
There's no law on the books about it.
Nam Inhu, listening, pulled a puzzled face.
"But… an inferiority complex is obviously bad, isn't it? People always say you should get over it."
"Everybody has their warped spots. It can't be helped."
In Nam Inhu's case, it was an inferiority complex rooted in the feeling that he wasn't famous.
Inferiority springs from the desire to stand where the person you compare yourself to is standing.
Put another way — if you harness that feeling well, it can become the very fuel that drives you toward your dream.
"I don't think the inferiority complex itself is the problem. Honestly, not having one is the harder feat."
"That's true, but…."
"What matters is what you do with it."
I raised a hand and poked Nam Inhu squarely in the chest.
I met the eyes of a man caught completely off guard.
"From where I'm standing, you're already doing well."
"……."
"You know where you're warped, and you're trying to keep it in check. That alone is plenty, as far as I'm concerned."
So — you're a good person, hyung.
At those quiet added words, Nam Inhu's mouth closed.
He just stared at me for a long moment, and I was about to start wondering what was wrong with him when—
"You really are… fascinating."
"Am I?"
When I asked what exactly was fascinating, the answer came back that the fascinating part was how I couldn't tell what was fascinating about myself.
Before I could frown at the non-answer, Nam Inhu cracked a grin.
"Thanks. For the good words. Then I'm off to go work off this complex of mine. Should go say something to him, right?"
His face looked noticeably lighter as he smiled, and I smiled back.
When I sent him off with a cheerful "You've got this," he seized my wrist without warning.
"…?"
"Where do you think you're going. You're coming with."
"Ah, me…"
"You said you know him. Introduce us. That's how the ice breaks."
If I came along, it would only make things worse.
I tried to explain, but it was already too late. Nam Inhu had my wrist in an iron grip and was striding straight toward Lee Euntaek.
"Hi there. We didn't get a proper introduction earlier — I'm Nam Inhu. I filmed a movie with Yeonjae."
"Oh, right. I'm Lee Euntaek. Um… Yeonjae and I…."
Euntaek hesitated, then fudged it with, "We knew each other before."
Why not just say he's debuting with Bihyuk?
Or say he was Seong Ijun's friend, even.
I found it strange, but I kept quiet.
The two of them traded bits of small talk, and then—
"Hey. Let's just drop the honorifics. The politeness thing feels weird."
Euntaek grinned and clapped Nam Inhu lightly on the shoulder.
Wow.
I barely managed to swallow the laugh that tried to slip out.
So he was capable of smiling like that.
It was a strange feeling.
I watched Lee Euntaek's profile as he laughed and talked with Nam Inhu, and my fingers twitched without my permission.
My fingertips itched.
…As if they'd brushed against a piece of candy in its wrapper.
What am I doing.
I swallowed a sigh.
The reason I'd invited Lee Euntaek was for Noh Bihyuk's sake.
Once Bihyuk and Euntaek debuted, the three of us were bound to keep running into each other. And every time that happened, if Euntaek showed open hostility, it was Bihyuk stuck in the middle who would suffer for it.
The past that had already happened couldn't be undone, and Euntaek and I could never be family again.
I had to focus on the things within my reach.
All I needed was to be on terms with Euntaek — terms civil enough that he wouldn't curse me out outright.
This gathering was only ever for that.
Meaning: not a place to win back a second older brother who secretly pressed a candy into my hand behind a smiling face.
Get a grip.
I took a small, deep breath.
"Dinner's ready, everyone. Please come to the table."
Jinbae hyung's voice cut in at exactly the right moment.
I trailed slowly behind the crowd as it streamed toward the table.
Today's not my day, I guess.
Mending things with Lee Euntaek could wait for another time. Getting him here today was already enough.
For the rest of tonight, I won't even look at him.
So I promised myself.
Long story short: I failed.
Completely, unmistakably failed.
"Haah…."
I let out a long breath in the bathroom I'd fled into.
This is driving me insane.
I splashed water on my face and replayed what had just happened.
Right up until the end of the meal, the mood had been fine. Euntaek and I hadn't looked at each other once, and neither of us had picked a fight.
Starting with the conversation Nam Inhu struck up, Euntaek had reached out to the other hyungs, even playing around and laughing with Han Haram of all people.
And honestly? Yes. It bothered me.
Of course I knew Euntaek had every reason to hate me. I wasn't so shameless that I couldn't grasp that much.
So I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. I knew that.
It just… got to me a little.
The more I watched Euntaek smile at other people, the heavier something in my chest sank. And once I recognized what that was, my mood collapsed into something beyond salvaging.
And no wonder — because I'd just admitted an undeniable fact to myself.
I was still keeping tabs on Lee Euntaek.
No.
Lee Euntaek was a stranger. Seong Ijun's friend, Noh Bihyuk's groupmate. That was all.
There was no reason to waste attention on a complete nobody.
It mustn't happen. The past doesn't change.
Are you all right, Yeonjae-ssi?
Jinbae hyung's whisper finally pulled me back.
Only moments ago I'd apparently been cutting my steak; now there was cake in front of me. On autopilot I answered that I was fine and picked up my fork.
When did all that time pass? I thought, taking a bite—
…!
The instant the flavor registered on my tongue, I saw Lee Euntaek reaching for his own slice of cake.
Without a moment to think, I shot to my feet.
Did you—
Did you eat it?
I heard my chair crash backward, heard the table jolt and rattle in succession. The clamor buzzed in my ears, but I had no attention to spare for it.
Did you eat the cake?
The fork in Euntaek's hand was already long gone — snatched from him and thrown aside. When my grip clamped down hard around his wrist, Euntaek's face twisted.
Let go. What are you—
I said, did you eat it?!
I could see his brow furrowing deeper and deeper at my sudden rampage, but I kept parroting the same question like a stuck record. There was no room in my head for anything else.
Only after the fourth time did Euntaek finally shout, "I didn't eat it! Let go of me!"
It was only when Jinbae hyung gripped my shoulder and said, "Yeonjae-ssi," that I came back to myself.
That was when I saw everyone staring at me, frozen with shock. Euntaek was glaring at me, gasping for breath.
Under the weight of every eye demanding an explanation, I let out the breath I'd been holding and murmured,
"……It tasted like peanut butter."
"I'm sorry — what?"
"The cake. It tasted like peanut butter…."
The haze still hadn't lifted; all I could manage was to string the words together.
"Peanut allergy…."
Everyone wore the same expression: what on earth is he talking about?
Truthfully, I wouldn't have understood me either.
I was still struggling to collect myself when Euntaek's gaze brushed my cheek. He stared at me for a long moment, then slowly opened his mouth.
"……The allergy's gone. Since middle school."
It had been bad when he was little, he went on, but it had faded away naturally after he started middle school. No special treatment — it had simply vanished on its own.
I answered blankly.
"Oh… I see."
"……"
"I didn't know."
Ah.
Replaying the words made me want to slam my head against the wall. I didn't know? That was the best I could do?
Of course you didn't know.
I hadn't seen him in ages by that point.
Why did I have to answer like an idiot?
And right after saying that, I'd bolted, mumbling something about needing the bathroom.
I completely overdid it.
The mistake was remembering Euntaek being loaded into an ambulance over his peanut allergy — a memory my body had reacted to before my brain caught up.
I heaved a sigh that felt like it could swallow the whole floor.
What am I going to say out there.
I was still hunting for the words that could salvage this situation when—
Knock knock.
A sound at the bathroom door.