I’m Not That Obsessive

Chapter 10

I was completely sprawled out after downing ten cans of beer and two bottles of soju. I always thought I could handle my alcohol well. There was a time when I drank up to five bottles of soju in one sitting. I had some trouble the next day, but since I managed to drink it, I could claim it as my record.

Thanks to that, whenever someone asked about my drinking capacity, I would bluff, “I can easily handle up to five bottles.” After repeating this lie so often, I started to believe I was actually that kind of person.

But not at all.

Since coming to America, I never brag about being a good drinker anymore. Or rather, is there even anyone to have such conversations with…

“Hehe.”

A silly laugh escaped me.

I was completely drunk. I lay down in the living room, anticipating the hangover that would greet me tomorrow.

Thoughts of Korea naturally came to mind, and I unconsciously picked up my phone. I usually try to restrain myself from checking news from Korea, but I couldn’t control myself on a messy day like today.

Of course, I wasn’t looking up entertainment news or how the film industry was doing.

“Wow. He’s handsome. That guy.”

I looked at my own stuff.

Clips from movies I starred in or TV programs. From my debut work “Sky Star” to “Fallen Human” which really made my name known, and “The Death of M” which elevated me to the peak of stardom.

Those times when everyone loved me, my past glories.

“Hmm.”

After watching for a while, my eyes started to itch. I smiled, mimicking the me in the video who was smiling with a furrowed brow. Even without a mirror, I could easily imagine how grotesque my face must look.

I deliberately avoided the comments below the videos. It took some effort to resist my fingers moving on their own.

“Just stop here.”

I muttered as if warning myself, turned off the video I was watching, and entered a music app. After pressing play on a random playlist, I tried to compose my surging emotions.

“Ah… I need to find out. I’m too curious about who he’s close with.”

My eyes were clearly looking at the screen, but my mouth was saying something else.

I wanted to know who that man was who was sleeping with Mitchell, who that person was who came to Mitchell’s house without hesitation even when Mitchell wasn’t there.

As I kept thinking about Mitchell, my head, which had been full of thoughts I shouldn’t have, gradually cleared.

‘I wonder if he’s tried Korean food?’

‘What does he like?’

‘It would be nice to share hobbies.’

‘I guess I could ask when he sleeps and when he wakes up?’

‘He doesn’t seem to have a good personality, so I should be especially careful.’

I rehearsed what I needed to do with familiarity. It’s difficult to act now in this state, but from tomorrow, I’ll be quite busy. My heart races for no reason.

My brother used to say I had an obsession disorder about this kind of behavior.

Obsession, I suppose it could be seen that way. But I don’t think so.

It’s just, just…

“Huh?”

I almost dropped my phone at the sudden vibration. Even more surprising was the name on the screen.

[Mitchell]

I pressed the call button without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“I left the door open.”

“…Huh?”

The call ended without even waiting for my response. He really doesn’t have a good personality.

Yet, the corners of my mouth rise sticky. I got up leisurely, filling my head with questions to ask Mitchell.

***

“I didn’t know you were drunk.”

Mitchell said, looking at the stumbling Geon-woo. Geon-woo was leaning against the large glass window in the living room overlooking the front yard, grinning broadly.

“I didn’t know you’d call either?”

A flush from alcohol appeared on his clean skin. His large monolid eyes lost strength as if sleepy, and his lips shimmered red even though he hadn’t applied anything.

His hair was messy at the back, revealing a clear forehead with spiky bangs sticking up. A defenseless appearance with just a thin t-shirt carelessly thrown on.

Mitchell sighed but gestured with his hand.

“Come in. I’m going to close the door.”

“Okay.”

Nodding, Geon-woo naturally took off his shoes.

“Why are you taking off your shoes…”

“Hm?”

“Never mind. It’s fine.”

What could you say to a drunk person? Mitchell withdrew his unnecessary comment.

As soon as he arrived, Geon-woo sprawled out on the sofa and fell asleep. His rhythmic breathing settled lightly in the quiet house. Mitchell, who had been clicking his tongue, sat on the opposite sofa.

He didn’t have any particular plans when he called Geon-woo over. Sending Jeff away was impulsive to begin with, and he certainly didn’t know Geon-woo would be completely drunk.

Looking at the passed-out Geon-woo, Mitchell pulled the script from the table onto his lap. The breathing of the drunk man kept tickling his ears.

Although it could have been distracting, Mitchell never took his eyes off the script. He diligently focused on his work. It was evidence that his mind had calmed down.

“Mmm.”

Geon-woo woke up well past midnight. Awakened by thirst, he blinked his heavy eyelids at the unfamiliar scene.

His gaze stopped on Mitchell, who had his head lowered.

‘Ah, right. I came to the neighbor’s house? I passed out drunk on someone else’s sofa? I should be proud… oh boy.’

Geon-woo clutched his head, recalling his disgraceful behavior. Even as he sat up heavily, Mitchell didn’t look at him.

“I’m going to get some water.”

Geon-woo said in a voice near death. Since he wasn’t expecting an answer anyway, he went straight to the kitchen beyond the living room.

Only after drinking three glasses of water in a row from the water purifier did he put down the cup. Then he sat on the chair right next to it and slumped over the dining table. Geon-woo turned his head sideways and openly observed Mitchell.

Mitchell also felt Geon-woo’s gaze. Just as he was about to put down the script and go to bed, Geon-woo had woken up. If he had gone to the bedroom a little earlier, they wouldn’t have encountered each other. As Mitchell was thinking about this and that, Geon-woo spoke.

“Can I sleep here?”

Mitchell’s gaze turned to Geon-woo, who was slumped over the table. His eyes were cold, and the silence was long.

Just as the silence was becoming stifling, Mitchell spoke.

“…You’ve got some nerve? Getting drunk and crashing at someone else’s house?”

Mitchell wouldn’t have pushed him out even if this person said he’d stay here forever. Saying he welcomed it might be too much, but normally he would at least show some positive intent. However, contrary to his feelings, a slightly sarcastic remark slipped out.

“I guess you don’t mind if I do anything to you? You won’t be able to get help here, all closed off. Are you good at running? Confident you won’t get caught before reaching the gate?”

Mitchell tossed the script he had been reading onto the table. He buried himself deep in the sofa before suddenly standing up. His steps towards Geon-woo were neither slow nor fast.

“…Are you saying you’re going to kill me? Or something even dirtier?”

Geon-woo mentioned an extreme scenario with hazy eyes. It was a joke blurted out under the influence of alcohol, but Mitchell’s expression remained cold.

“Whatever it might be.”

Geon-woo, who had been comfortably slumped over, finally raised his head slightly. He carefully pulled the chair back and slowly stood up.

“Being threatened with murder by America’s top star, Mitchell Cronenwirth. I’ve really lived to see it all.”

Perhaps due to a mix of drunkenness and sudden curiosity, Geon-woo spouted words he didn’t need to say.

“You like men, so I must be your type? Do you want to touch me all over?”

It was a twisted psychology of feeling equal to an untouchable person by confronting them. Geon-woo was intoxicated by the delusion of pulling Mitchell down from the top of the world and climbing up there himself.

When else would he get to say such things?

Even as he casually brought up immoral and brazen topics, he was caught up in the excitement. It felt like a scene from a movie. He was even proud of himself for immersing in the act.

“You really have no fear.”

On the contrary, Mitchell wasn’t fazed at all by the drunk man’s provocation. Like a solidly built castle wall, he easily brushed off Geon-woo’s nonsense.

“Are you going to get more excited and grab that kitchen knife over there? Stop talking nonsense and sit down. Or lie down.”

He replied nonchalantly as he turned around. As if he didn’t want to deal with it anymore, he went into the bedroom. The door remained open, but the bedroom light turned off.

“……”

Geon-woo, who had been standing like a sack of borrowed barley, slowly moved his feet.

“So…”

He returned to the sofa and stood in front of it.

“You mean I can sleep here and leave in the morning, right?”

Since Mitchell said to sit or lie down as he pleased.

“I guess that means I can sleep here.”

Geon-woo, placing a hand on his spinning head, threw himself onto the sofa. As the tension eased, the drunkenness returned. Because of that, he soon fell asleep again. Geon-woo never got to ask why Mitchell had called him here. He wasn’t in the right state of mind for that.

One in the bedroom, the other on the sofa. They sought sleep in their respective positions, but the instinct of being aware of each other remained wide open like a door. Even though this instinct was strongly rushing towards each other, their individual wills were still too strong. Their true inner feelings remained hidden.