Prove You're Not All Mouth
At that same moment, Noh Bihyeok was hosting a live broadcast, chatting away with his fans.
"Where are the other members? Hmm, no idea… Am I not enough for you? Come on, focus on *me*!"
There was an easy confidence in the way he pouted and whined with exaggerated aegyo, the picture of someone completely at ease in the spotlight.
A director at WB Entertainment, watching from the sidelines, let out a quiet chuckle.
That kid's a piece of work, all right.
It had only been a few months since his debut, yet the speed at which he'd settled into stardom was nothing short of remarkable.
That was when Noh Bihyeok read a chat message aloud.
"You want me to spill stories about Lee Yeonjae?"
He'd read it on autopilot, and only after the words left his mouth did he realize his mistake, darting a cautious glance toward the director.
Ever since 'NADE' — the group Bihyeok shared with Lee Euntaek — kept getting linked to Lee Yeonjae in the media, a growing crowd of fans had taken to shipping them together.
Being associated with someone as famous as Lee Yeonjae was obviously good publicity, but anything in excess turned to poison. The director, who had been carefully managing that line, gave a small nod.
It's been a while since he was mentioned. Should be fine.
Only after confirming the director's nod did Bihyeok answer brightly.
"If I start talking about Lee Yeonjae, this broadcast might never end. Is everyone okay with that?"
And with that, the reins came off. Like an unbroken colt, he talked nonstop — about how insufferably clingy he'd been when he first met Yeonjae, how he'd managed to befriend that prickly creature who walked around bristling with quills like a hedgehog.
"Honestly, doesn't 'Hedgehog' suit him better than 'Bambi'? His eyes are pitch-black."
As Bihyeok grumbled on, chat messages that looked suspiciously like Biyeon members started flooding in.
An unwitting, hollow smile crossed Bihyeok's face.
"He's actually crazy sensitive. He just hides it really well, that's all."
Noh Bihyeok remembered how, back in elementary school, Lee Yeonjae had once lain face-down on his desk, dead to the world, for three straight days. He never found out why.
Back then, that was all Yeonjae was.
A little kid who knew nothing except how to swallow his feelings down, hard and wordless. A hedgehog who raised his quills to keep everyone at arm's length, yet somehow always managed to summon a smiling mask whenever anyone spoke to him.
Compared to then, he's practically a whole new person.
The Lee Yeonjae of today sulked openly when something upset him and stuck his lips out at the slightest injustice. He'd even gotten into a full-on, sweaty brawl with Lee Euntaek just a few months ago — need he say more?
Still, his friend remained a gentle creature at heart.
"He really doesn't get angry much. He lets a lot slide, even when I mess with him. But, hmm, how do I put this…."
Bihyeok wrinkled his nose and grinned.
"You know how it is, right? When someone who never gets mad finally *does* — that's when it's genuinely terrifying."
The chat agreed in a chorus of messages. Bihyeok snickered.
"And honestly, he's got a mean streak in there somewhere. If he ever got properly angry, I bet it'd be no joke."
"What the hell. Who let this arrogant bastard in here?"
The owner of that venomous voice, Noah Patterson, was in a foul mood. He'd just run into the last person he expected at his own party.
The 'arrogant bastard' in question — Lee Yeonjae — turned around slowly. His face, unchanged since Noah had last seen it, was as placid as ever.
"I never invited you. How the hell did you crawl your way in here?"
As Noah snapped, Mia hurriedly cut in.
"He came with me. He's my friend. I didn't know you two knew each other."
"Knew each other? Please. Drag that beggar's kid out of here, right now."
"Patterson, don't be rude. I told you, he's my friend."
Mia's face darkened into a scowl, and Noah, refusing to back down, twisted his expression into something even uglier.
Through it all, Lee Yeonjae alone wore a perfectly blank expression.
Noah hated that expression with every fiber of his being.
Smug little punk.
Noah had first learned of Lee Yeonjae through some Eastern drama called The Butterfly Flower on the Zelkova Tree.
He remembered putting on episode one without much thought, on a friend's recommendation, and frowning the moment he spotted the subtitles.
Like most foreigners, Noah found subtitles an absolute nuisance — something to be endured, not enjoyed.
Why should I have to squint at tiny little text just to watch a drama?
And yet Noah had watched, squinting at those tiny subtitles, all the way through. He'd become so hopelessly hooked that he rewatched nothing else for months on end.
The reason was a boy who looked to be about his own age.
He's… really good.
Even across a language barrier, the boy's emotions came through so vividly that his acting sent chills down Noah's spine.
Thanks to a father who'd built a fashion empire, Noah Patterson had been born rich, and everything in life came to him without effort.
Everything except acting.
Noah loved film and television. Once, the thought maybe I could be an actor had crossed his mind — and been abandoned almost as quickly. Acting well demanded relentless practice, and for someone who had never once worked hard at anything in his life, that was simply too hard a road.
So he'd given up on becoming an actor, clean and final. But no one could resist being captivated by a truly great performer.
And the moment Noah saw Lee Yeonjae, he thought:
If I had pursued acting, wouldn't I have become exactly that kind of actor?
It wasn't that he lacked the talent — only the effort. If he'd actually tried, he would surely have become a brilliant actor.
Just like Lee Yeonjae.
Noah had come to think of Lee Yeonjae as another future he'd never chosen, and rooted for him accordingly.
When Yeonjae was invited to the Cannes Film Festival with Twins, Noah had felt a ridiculous, unwarranted swell of pride.
And true to his other self, Lee Yeonjae became the youngest Best Actor winner in the festival's global history.
But the Yeonjae who stepped onto that stage was nothing like the one Noah had built up and imagined in his head.
Despite winning at Cannes — the youngest ever, no less — his expression had been utterly indifferent.
That blank, could-not-care-less face standing in the spotlight had made something in Noah's chest lurch.
That's an award *we* fought for.
And the biggest problem of all: Lee Yeonjae couldn't speak English.
The Yeonjae in his imagination was always supremely confident, an actor with flawless, unbroken English.
So who was this kid, standing there with an interpreter at his side, fumbling in a foreign tongue?
Noah had trembled with betrayal.
Furious, he'd chased him all the way to his hotel and screamed at him — and all Yeonjae did was look mildly annoyed by the noise.
A stupid foreigner who couldn't even understand slightly fast speech. Too far beneath him to be anyone's other self, surely.
And yet he acts like *that*….
The reality of the actor he'd called his alternate future had been unbearably cruel.
That memory was a few years old now.
"Patterson, apologize to my friend. I'm the one who dragged a busy person here, and if you're going to act like this, what does that make me look like?"
As Mia flared up, Noah gave a mocking laugh.
"That's hilarious. Apologize to a kid who can't even speak English? If I did, would he even understand me?"
"Hey. Are you done?"
Mia was choking on her fury, her voice climbing — and that was when Lee Yeonjae, silent this entire time, glanced sidelong at Noah and finally opened his mouth.
"And you are? Do I know you?"
"…What?"
Blindsided by a question he'd never anticipated, Noah found himself speechless.
Utterly ignoring him, Yeonjae turned to Mia.
"Mia, who is this guy?"
"Uh, well…."
Mia's face went stiff as her eyes darted between the two of them.
Noah had spent the whole conversation acting as if he knew Yeonjae intimately — and now Yeonjae was wearing the face of someone who genuinely had no idea who he was. There was nothing she could say.
"Wow. This is just insulting."
Noah let out a loud, derisive snort.
"Are you seriously pretending you don't know me?"
"Pretending what? How do you know me, exactly?"
"Cut the crap, you bastard! You're just embarrassed you couldn't speak English, aren't you? Your English has gotten a lot better since last time, I'll give you that. Guess you actually worked at it, huh?"
Noah sneered and needled — and Lee Yeonjae tilted his head slowly to one side.
"…Does being blond make you proud?"
The voice was quiet and still, a world apart from Noah's boiling agitation.
Blond? Where did that come from?
The non sequitur made Noah frown.
"I'm saying it seems like you take a lot of pride in things you were simply born with. If speaking English — your mother tongue — makes you that proud, then being blond must feel pretty glorious too."
His tone said he found it strange and almost pitiable — that there was nothing there worth being proud of.
And despite the mockery of his words, Yeonjae's expression remained perfectly flat.
"You little—!"
The instant Noah exploded and shouted, he realized the room around them had gone deathly quiet.
Everyone was staring at him.
Somewhere along the way, even the music had been shut off.
Get a grip.
If he acted any more unhinged here, he would only end up as the joke of the party.
Noah swept a hand back through his disheveled hair and smirked.
"You're a funny bastard. Fine — I'll admit you've got a mouth on you. But what's that worth?"
He jabbed a finger into Yeonjae's shoulder, shoving it twice.
"This is my house. My party. One gesture to my security team and you're out on the street. Big mouth and nothing else, and you think you can—"
"Then what about you?"
"What?"
Lee Yeonjae began to move, slowly, step by deliberate step.
His face was still expressionless.
But Mia, who had spent these past two weeks by his side, felt instinctively that something was very wrong.
Wait… is he angry?
She'd never once seen Yeonjae lose his temper, and that made her second-guess herself.
His face was simply too calm.
Her guess was both right and wrong.
Because Lee Yeonjae wasn't just angry.
Inside, he was thinking this:
How do I ruin this kid.
Rarely — very, very rarely — Lee Yeonjae was absolutely livid.
Lee Yeonjae was, by and large, a forgiving person.
If there was exactly one thing that got under his skin, it was the rude and the disrespectful.
There had been a time when he believed that no matter how badly someone treated him, he must never let it show — not for his own sake, but for others'.
But the Lee Yeonjae of today knew that enduring everything was not always the answer.
He had met more discourteous people in his life than he could count, and Noah Patterson was merely one of them.
He could have brushed it off. Unfortunately, his condition today was not good.
Two grueling weeks of nonstop schedules, dragged against his will to a party with no room to breathe — and on top of that, a one-sided stream of sneers and slurs. It was more than enough to blow the fuse that had already been burning dangerously short.
In other words: he had lost his temper, completely.
"I at least earned this mouth. What do you have?"
Mia stared at the unnervingly calm Yeonjae, utterly lost.
What do I do? Should I step in?
Noah Patterson was a rich, entitled brat with a formidable network of connections in the entertainment industry.
If Bambi makes an enemy of him, it'll only hurt him too.
Her thoughts tangled in every direction, and the sight of this unfamiliar side of Yeonjae kept her frozen in place.
When Yeonjae reached out and touched the utensil holder where a knife sat, everyone flinched.
"If you've got a gun, pull it out."
"Hey, you—"
"No gun? Then a knife, maybe? So you can stab me?"
Yeonjae drew out a single knife, unhurried.
And before the security guards could come running, he closed the distance to Noah in a few quick strides.
"Here. Stab me."
"……"
The knife was in Noah's hand.
Yeonjae pressed the handle firmly into Noah's grip, then guided the tip of the blade to his own stomach.
"Go ahead. Stab me. Then we'll know for sure — that you're not just a big mouth with nothing behind it."
There was no anger on Lee Yeonjae's face. No sarcasm, either.
Just a blank mask — and in those inscrutable black eyes, something that utterly overwhelmed Noah.
"What's wrong? Can't do it?"
When Noah stood frozen, Yeonjae furrowed his brow as if genuinely puzzled.
"Shall I do it myself, then?"
"……"
"Oh, wait. I'm just a big mouth, right? Using my hands would be cheating."
Only then did Yeonjae crack a faint smile — and leaned his face in close to Noah's throat.
Noah's eyes rolled wildly, darting everywhere, until they met Yeonjae's — staring up at him from below his chin.
"Or should I just bite your throat open?"
Yeonjae murmured it quietly.
The air in the room turned so cold it was beyond salvaging.