— Good evening!
— Uh… hey.
Lo Min shone again—like a lamp in the dark. It seemed he never tired at all: from early evening until dawn he darted between tables, smiling, joking, bringing drinks. Despite his fragile frame, he was remarkably resilient, always composed even in chaos. The clients adored him, and the other hosts had quickly accepted him into their circle.
Even So Raon, usually reserved and skeptical, once remarked:
— The kid's not bad. Clean, kind. A rarity for Vermilion.
Ryu Seon-yeon and O Rian were having dinner in one of the private rooms on the club's second floor. The air was thick with alcohol and smoke; the muffled beat from downstairs pulsed like the heartbeat of Liren beneath their feet. Rian was stirring his spoon in his cup, fidgeting, before finally blurting out:
— Hyung… be honest with me. You and Kang Ji-han—you're not dating, right?
Seon-yeon nearly choked on his soup. A fit of coughing, the clatter of dishes, Rian's alarmed look—and then came a flying napkin. The vampire hissed through his teeth:
— Damn you! How many times do I have to say it? No, we're not a couple. That psycho's dangerous, got it? And judging by your tone, you've been getting too cozy with him.
— What?! — Rian waved his hands frantically. — He just asked me to grab coffee! Once!
Ji-han had stepped out earlier, supposedly to run an errand for Rian. The younger man hesitated, then confessed:
— It's just… if you two really aren't together, there's something I wanted to ask.
— Now I'm scared. Go on.
— It's about Lo Min. He's… well, he's gay.
Seon-yeon blinked. For something said with such grave seriousness, it sounded ridiculous.
— Oh. And?
— He told me himself. Said he got a job here to figure out whether he liked girls. But the longer he works, the less sense they make to him.
Seon-yeon snorted. Vermilion was hardly a place for "self-discovery."
— And there's more, — Rian lowered his voice. — His ideal type… is Kang Ji-han. Says if he could confess to him once, he could die happy.
Seon-yeon choked again. — What?!
Rian quickly handed him another napkin.
— What? You said yourself Ji-han's good-looking.
True—he had. But acknowledging someone's looks and being dragged into their love drama were two very different things.
— Then let him confess. What's it got to do with me?
— That's the problem, — Rian sighed. — Ji-han only ever hangs around you. So Min's convinced you two are a couple.
Seon-yeon froze. Couldn't really argue with that—Ji-han had been following him like a shadow.
— If you're not dating, could you call Ji-han for a few minutes? Min said five minutes alone would be enough to get it off his chest.
— Wonderful, — Seon-yeon muttered. — Since when are you a matchmaker?
— I just feel bad for the guy, — Rian said softly. — He knows he'll be rejected but wants to do it anyway. Honestly. Says he won't sleep until he does.
Seon-yeon sighed. How touching. He was about to refuse, but Rian shouted toward the door:
— Min! Come in! It's okay!
The door swung open. Lo Min, clearly having eavesdropped the whole time, stepped in, shifting nervously from foot to foot. His eyes glistened; his voice trembled.
— I'm sorry…
Perfect, thought Seon-yeon, he heard everything.
Min bowed deeply.
— Minam-hyung, could I ask a favor? Please don't be mad.
There was no graceful way out now.
— What is it?
Min brightened.
— Just five minutes. Alone with Kang Ji-han. After that, I'll leave.
— Tonight?
— No! Tomorrow. I… need to prepare.
A date with rejection, Seon-yeon thought dryly. But Rian's pleading look made him give up.
— Do what you want.
— Thank you! — both of them exclaimed at once.
When they left, Seon-yeon remained in silence, his ears ringing from the absurdity of it all.
He tells me to stop watching romantic dramas, yet here he is directing one.
But something about Lo Min's demeanor gnawed at him. It wasn't the naive excitement of a boy in love. More like… obsession.
Maybe he saw something in Ji-han that I haven't, Seon-yeon thought—and for some reason, that thought stung.
***
The next evening they met Ji-han in the lounge.
— We need to talk, — Seon-yeon said, avoiding eye contact.
Ji-han, used to his moods, only raised a brow.
— About what?
— Nothing serious. Just… a chat.
The air thickened, silence stretching.
Where the hell is that kid? Seon-yeon cursed inwardly. To fill the void, he started rambling:
— We've known each other a while. Been through plenty… And thinking about it now, I've never met a bigger bastard than you.
Ji-han blinked. — Is that a confession?
— No. A statement of fact. I've never met anyone like you. Not even when I was human.
Ji-han twitched slightly. — When you were human?
But before Seon-yeon could answer, the door burst open.
Lo Min stormed in—flushed, breathless, clutching something inside his coat pocket.
— Thank you, Minam-hyung!
He bowed deeply. Ji-han stiffened.
— What's going on?
— He needs to talk to you, — Seon-yeon said shortly. — I'm leaving.
But Ji-han grabbed his wrist.
— You had something to say. Finish it.
— Not me! Him!
Lo Min stood at the door, smiling strangely. The lock clicked behind him.
— It's fine, hyung. You should stay.
— Stay? — Seon-yeon frowned.
— Yes. It'll be… more honest this way.
A chill ran down his spine.
— Look, maybe without me? I don't want to watch someone else's confession.
— Kang Ji-han, — Min said quietly, — stay. Both of you.
Seon-yeon reached for the door—then everything collapsed.
Min lunged forward, fast as a whip. The blade flashed in the lamplight.
— Shit!
Ji-han shouted—the knife slashed across his arm, blood splattering the floor.
Seon-yeon froze for a heartbeat, then sprang forward.
— What the hell are you doing, psycho?!
Min was on top of Ji-han, pinning him to the chair, face twisted in rage, eyes wild.
Seon-yeon grabbed at him, trying to pull him off, but Min was strong—too strong. Blood gleamed on Ji-han's arm, the phone skidding across the floor.
— Drop the knife! — Seon-yeon shouted.
No response. The hand trembled, but the blade pressed harder against Ji-han's throat.
Then, suddenly, Min struck—not at Ji-han, but at Seon-yeon, standing closer.
Pain seared his side. The vampire roared, the world flashing crimson.
He seized Min by the shoulders, slammed him into the mirror.
Shattering glass. Cries.
Ji-han crawled back, gasping. Min, bloodied, screamed like an animal.
— Don't interfere! — he howled. — Don't interfere with us!
— Us? — Seon-yeon rasped, barely breathing.
Min turned. For a moment, his pupils glowed crimson.
— Look at me, — he hissed. — You'll walk out of here and say you killed him.
Seon-yeon felt the alien will trying to force its way into his mind.
He's hypnotizing me?
The power was weak, unstable—but desperate. And when Min twisted the knife in his wound, the pain shattered the haze.
— Damn you!
He shoved him back, but Min swung again—straight at his ribs. The air burst out of his lungs.
Ji-han roared. He grabbed Min by the throat, lifting him off the ground, slamming him into the wall.
— Freak!
Min choked, thrashing. The knife clattered to the floor.
Seon-yeon, clutching his bleeding side, saw it all through a red haze. Blood ran down his fingers, dripping onto the tiles.
He's not human…
Yes—he could feel it now. Lo Min was a vampire. Young, unstable, fractured.
Ji-han's grip tightened. A crack—then silence. But the next second, Min twitched again—snatching another knife from under the table.
Seon-yeon barely had time to breathe:
— Hey!
His eyes flared red.
— Drop the knife!
Min froze—for a heartbeat. Enough time.
Ji-han's punch caught him at the temple, sending him crashing into the wall. Everything went still.
The room smelled of metal. Blood pooled on the floor, glittering with shards of broken glass.
— Ryu Seon-yeon! — Ji-han rushed to him.
— You… know that bastard? — Seon-yeon wheezed.
— Why the hell would I?
— Tried to help him confess… romantic crap… — Seon-yeon coughed, then grimaced. — You got… any blood?
The fangs were already out. His eyes—burning red. Ji-han realized it was bad. Very bad.
He yanked off his jacket, threw it over Seon-yeon's head, lifted him into his arms.
— Hold on. The car's close.
As they burst out into the hall, Rian was running toward them.
— What happened?!
— That bastard's a vampire, — Ji-han barked. — Seon-yeon's hurt.
Rian went pale. — Min?.. But he—
— Lock him in the basement. Until dawn. Then drag him into the sun. Your call.
Rian swallowed hard and nodded.
Ji-han carried Seon-yeon through the club. Blood drops streaked the concrete. The air thickened, heavy with heat and scent.
The vampire muttered:
— I'm thirsty…
— Endure it.
They reached the parking lot. Ji-han flung open the car door, laid him inside, then rushed to the trunk. From a portable cooler, he pulled two blood packs—leftovers from a lab incident.
He tore one open, pressed it to Seon-yeon's lips. The vampire bit in greedily, sucking with ragged gasps. Blood ran down his chin, staining his shirt.
Ji-han said nothing, just pressed a rag to the wound in his abdomen. When the first pack was empty, he opened the second.
— Breathe, — he whispered.
Seon-yeon's eyes fluttered open. Pupils glowing red, fangs longer. He blinked and whispered:
— I want to drink…
Ji-han didn't have time to react—Seon-yeon lunged, growling.
The car filled with chaos. Strong hands locked, flesh against flesh, sharp breaths, the taste of blood. Ji-han pinned him to the seat, but Seon-yeon still strained toward his throat.
— Stop it, damn it!
Seon-yeon jerked, claws raking Ji-han's scalp. Warm blood spilled down his neck.
— Grh—!
The response was a quick, hard punch. Seon-yeon's head snapped back; his body went limp. He came to moments later—still pinned, immobilized, Ji-han's breath against his lips.
Ji-han's eyes burned like fire.
He looked at him so intensely that even Seon-yeon's feral instincts faltered. He exhaled weakly, almost like a wounded animal, and lowered his head in submission.
— Hhh…
— Seriously? — Ji-han muttered with a crooked smile. — Playing the obedient one now?
But the vampire's eyes stayed hungry, tracking every drop of blood sliding down Ji-han's neck. The car was thick with that sweet, intoxicating scent.
Seon-yeon inhaled shakily, trembling as if fevered. His lips parted, breath ragged.
Ji-han leaned closer, voice low, almost touching.
— Don't even think about it.