Chapter Text
Wooyoung’s study – which was once his mother’s – faces the garden below, and beyond that, scattered houses and neighbourhood shops, and then the limitless, twinkling blue sea.
Today, though, the curtains are drawn. The room is dark, and he’s lying on a mattress in the study, snoring softly. Next to him, the laptop is turned on but dimly lit, still on the document page that he was reading the night before.
He wakes up at noon to the sound of multiple texts on his phone. He sits up, rubbing his eyes as he scrolls through. In the project group chat his colleagues sent him thank you messages for letting them stay over, that they had already boarded their flight back to Seoul. That was hours ago. They’re probably about to land now.
There’s also a slew of messages and missed calls from his grandfather’s assistant, which he decides can wait until later. It’s too early for a lecture on how he’s not fulfilling his potential by refusing to get into the family business, how he’s becoming a hermit on the island, how his current job is pointless and just a way for him to rebel.
He moves the curtains and is greeted by ominous thick clouds and grey skies. Well, there goes his original plan to swim.
Wooyoung ambles out of the study, half-checking the rooms his colleagues slept in. The house is made up of three storeys and has five bedrooms. Back then, it was enough for his mother’s friends and their families to come over. There would be music from when she’d play on the piano in the living room and laughter and the smell of delicious home cooked food.
His mother designed Saltwater herself, inspired by the beach houses she visited in Europe when she was younger. The architecture itself stands out from the houses nearby; the facades are overlapping square structures, with dome-shaped windows.
Wooyoung barely made any changes to the rooms except adding more bookshelves. It’s just one of the things that happens when you work full-time as a researcher.
So now the house – which his mother lovingly called Saltwater – has Wooyoung as its only occupant unless he invites his friends or colleagues to stay over, which isn’t too often. His mother’s room is off-limits though.
He finds that his team had cleaned up, made their beds, tossed away all the trash and even wiped down the kitchen after their good-bye dinner. Wooyoung takes a picture of the spotless living room, sending off a Good job 👍🏼 text to them.
Not that he expected any less from the Seoul researchers, especially when Park Seonghwa is their team lead, who does not only have high expectations for their work but also their cleanliness. Whatever it is they practice at their office back in Seoul, they do the same whenever they stay over at Wooyoung’s.
After a busy and hectic week, he’s ready to wind down for the weekend. But as he makes his coffee in the kitchen, his phone buzzes with a new text, and this time it’s from a stranger.
[unknown number]
Hi this is jeong yunho, daeho’s brother
I’m in jeju, i want to pick up his stuff from your house
wooyoung
wtf? i’ve already passed him everything months ago
are u a scammer
[unknown number]
No
You missed out his Tissot seastar
wooyoung (a few minutes later)
right. just found it.
[unknown number]
I’ll pick it up at 3pm today
wooyoung
ok
what do you look like
send a pic
[unknown number]
Is this a joke?
wooyoung
no? he never showed me pics
[unknown number]
We’re twins
So you know what I look like
***
It was summer last year when Wooyoung met Jeong Daeho for the first time. Facing imminent burnout, his workplace did a mental health check-in with him. He was advised to use up his annual leaves, and his therapist suggested that he stopped isolating himself away in Saltwater.
So, off to Seoul he went.
The city is no stranger to him. He met up with friends from University of Seoul, he even dragged himself to dinner with his grandparents. It was a drag, as usual, but it was also fine.
And, maybe he’d lost his mind, but he texted his father to ask if he wanted to have dinner – only for him to cancel on Wooyoung a few hours before it happened. To say he felt like a loser was an understatement.
His cousin Minjeong saved the evening, though. She dragged him to their other cousin Michael’s birthday party at an upscale penthouse in Gangnam. Neither of them liked Michael – he’d spent most of his teenage years in America and when he came back he would rub it in their faces about this very fact simply by name-dropping how he knew people in Hollywood and using English excessively. They weren’t invited to this party, but Minjeong was a well-connected influencer and his cousin is a greedy clout chaser, so he didn’t turn them away.
Predictably, most of Michael’s guests were privileged fintech bros and entrepreneurial nepo babies like they were. Wooyoung thought his ears were almost going to bleed from listening to them talking about bitcoins and stocks, and the only thing that kept him there were the free flow drinks.
“Nine o’clock – Choi Yeonjun’s heading your way,” Minjeong’s voice floated into his ears.
Three glasses in and Wooyoung’s brain was alert enough to tell him get the fuck away from his ex-boyfriend. He looked over his shoulder, spotting Yeonjun’s concerned face first, then caught a glimpse of his shiny wedding ring.
Wooyoung weaved through a crowd of Michael’s friends, blending in and nodding enthusiastically at whatever they’re telling him, gave them high fives where needed and took another champagne flute.
He nearly stumbled on his way towards the balcony, and would’ve embarrassed himself if it wasn’t for a strong arm around his waist, pulling him back.
“Are you all right?” A deep voice asked him.
Wooyoung lifted his gaze. His saviour was a tall man in a white polo shirt and black jeans, his hair slicked back. His shoulders were broad and arms lean. A hot gym person, was Wooyoung’s bleary thought.
“I’m fine,” he answered, but allowed the man to steer him out to the balcony.
The fresh air outside was a much needed slap to his face.
Wooyoung sneaked a glance at the man, who was also looking out at the cityscape below them. “So do you do this often?”
“Do what?”
“Be a knight in shining armor at chaebol parties?”
“Only when needed.” He let out a laugh, at the time, Wooyoung thought that it was cute albeit strained, but now he realised that it was a strained, insincere one. He was quick to find out later how ingenuine Daeho was about most people around him, including himself. “I’m Jeong Daeho.”
“I’m –”
“Jung Wooyoung,” Daeho finished his sentence. “You're Michael’s cousin.” Wooyoung raised his eyebrows, and that prompted Daeho to add, “He was complaining about your presence to his friends.”
“And you’re one of them,” Wooyoung said.
“I’d say we’re just connected because of work,” Daeho replied blandly.
Wooyoung gave him a lopsided grin, leaning closer. “He sucks, doesn’t he?”
Daeho, to his credit, kept a straight face. “I don’t really have an opinion about him when it comes to that aspect.”
“I assume you like him enough to celebrate his birthday,” Wooyoung said.
Daeho chuckled. “That’s not how it works in corporate.”
Wooyoung tilted his head. “I’m not in that world. It’s why I’m the black sheep of the family.”
“Well, whether I like him or not, I did get free drinks and meet his hot cousin,” Daeho’s shoulder brushed against his.
Wooyoung wasn’t clueless. That was a clear invitation and he took it. “Want to get out of here?”
They slept together that night. It started off as a casual hook-up at first, but Daeho, for lack of a better word, pursued him with his charm and sweet words, and Wooyoung played along, flattered, because it had been a while since his last relationship.
While not in a serious relationship, they weren’t exactly casual either. During Wooyoung’s break, Daeho would stay over at his apartment in Seoul, and when work started again, he would make weekend trips to Jeju. He only did so out of convenience – coincidentally or not, Daeho had work in Jeju that lasted for a couple of months so he often stayed over at Wooyoung’s.
And Wooyoung, who didn’t have a big project at the time, liked the company. Daeho was charismatic - it was easy for Wooyoung to believe that Daeho had everything together, and the sex was a big bonus.
For a while, he could overlook Daeho’s flaws: how everything had to be done his way, at his own time because his work mattered more; how calculating and frank he could be with his words - there was an occasion when he admitted point blank to Wooyoung that he wouldn’t have paid attention to him if hadn’t been a member of the Jung family.
“Well, that part of me is hard to ignore,” Wooyoung had said, even though he was trying to convince himself, because Daeho didn’t seem to need the assurance.
Wooyoung wasn’t in love. He didn’t need to fall in love - he did that once, and he was still singed by the burn of it all. He doesn’t think he could love someone as deeply as he did Yeonjun, nor does he want to.
So it was fine that when he kissed Daeho, he knew he didn’t feel any passion, that he wasn’t swept off his feet. He wasn’t supposed to.
And it meant he didn’t have to let Daeho completely in.
But their incompatibility unraveled the more they spent time together. While Wooyoung would happily talk about his mother and favourite cousin, Minjeong, Daeho didn’t have good things to say about his family: he had a brother who was ‘useless and burdensome’, a former idol who never should’ve become one in the first place (he never mentioned that he had a twin). The only times he spoke about his parents was in a bored tone: his father was an editor of a newspaper and his mother a homemaker.
The final straw was when he found Daeho in his mother’s room, even though Wooyoung had told him it was off-limits. He’d been looking out of the tall glass windows, enjoying the view.
“You could consider building a hotel here instead,” he said. “You’d make a lot of money from selling this place.”
Wooyoung ended their five-month relationship that day right before they were supposed to go out to lunch. And Daeho took it calmly – maybe he’d already considered it, and his work stint in Jeju was ending so there was no reason for him to stay longer.
As usual, he chose convenience over everything else, including people.
***
The rain is relentless by the time Jeong Yunho shows up at Saltwater. As Wooyoung opens the door, thunder roars and he takes that as some kind of an ominous sign.
Jeong Yunho’s height is as imposing as his twin’s, though Wooyoung’s attention is mostly on his outfit: a yellow plaid shirt with a white tank top underneath, and faded denim shorts. Daeho would never be caught dead wearing those .
A navy umbrella covers most of his face until he lowers it. Oh, Wooyoung thinks, eyeing Yunho’s wet hair, plastered to his forehead and his slightly unshaven face.
Daeho reminds Wooyoung of an impenetrable shark. On the other hand, Yunho reminds him of a disgruntled golden retriever. How could two people be the same and yet so different.
“Hi,” Yunho says, bowing slightly. “I’m here for my brother’s watch.
It’s not like Wooyoung needed an explanation. Still, he takes a step back, pushing the door wider. “Yes, come inside.”
Hesitation crosses Yunho’s face. He doesn’t even put down his umbrella. “I shouldn’t, really.”
The rain behind him persists even harder. In this kind of weather Wooyoung doubts that any taxi would accept a ride request and the buses would be slower.
“You can’t leave either. The weather is getting worse and drivers don’t usually want to deal with all the mud down the road.” A crackle of thunder follows. Wooyoung jabs a thumb out at the street. “But if you want to deal with that, go ahead.”
It takes Yunho a couple more seconds before he finally nods, muttering a “Thanks”, leaving his umbrella outside and letting himself into the house.
He notices how Yunho is looking at him - a stranger but not a complete one, connected to his twin brother. Probably wondering how Daeho ended up with someone like him? Wooyoung glances down briefly at what he's wearing; his usual oversized grey graphic ttee and black shorts. He didn't exactly bother dressing up - there was no need to make a big impression.
Maybe.
“You can sit,” Wooyoung says, the corners of his lips twitching as he watches Yunho hover around the living room couch. “Would you like coffee or tea?”
“Uh, you don’t have to –” Yunho must’ve seen the exasperated expression on his face because he quickly says, “Coffee with milk.”
Huh, so the taste in clothes isn’t the only difference between him and Daeho.
Wooyoung heads back to the living room to see that Yunho is holding a picture frame of Wooyoung when he was seven years old clinging to his mother’s hand while pouting fiercely at the camera. He puts it back when he takes the cup of coffee from Wooyoung.
“So, you’re Daeho’s idol twin,” Wooyoung says, once he’s settled down on the couch opposite him.
Yunho nearly chokes on his drink. “I’m not an idol anymore. Didn’t Daeho tell you that?”
Wooyoung shrugs. “I don’t remember.” He never listens to a lot of Kpop unless it’s something Minjeong recommends (see: forces him to listen).
“Yeah, I was in a boyband, but that was seven years ago,” Yunho replies.
Wooyoung places a hand under his chin. “What happened?”
He can practically see the walls around Yunho coming up as he shifts, glancing sideways as if he was swatting that question aside. “I’m just here to pick up Daeho’s stuff for him, not to talk about myself.”
“Why can’t you do both?”
“You’re a stranger,” Yunho points out. “What do you gain from me telling you anything?”
Too blunt for his own liking, but it’s not an unreasonable question. Not everyone sees Wooyoung’s attempt to get to know them as harmless. “You’re supposed to get to know your guests better when you let them into your house.”
Yunho doesn’t look convinced.
“I don’t even keep in touch with Daeho anymore, so we’re not going to talk about you behind your back.”
Yunho purses his lips and says nothing in return. It’s like a silent admission.
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’m guessing Daeho only told you about me when he needed your help getting his watch back.”
“Actually, yeah…”
Wooyoung chuckles, picking up his own coffee and taking a sip. Unlike Yunho, he prefers his without anything. The more bitter it is, the better. “Typical.”
“I didn’t come all the way to Jeju to only pick up his watch,” Yunho says, a defensive edge to his tone. “I don’t run errands for him.”
Wooyoung frowns. “I never said you were.”
“No, you didn’t,” Yunho looks at him sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“You’re really awkward with strangers.”
“I know,” Yunho looks at his hands for a moment. “Also, this is probably one of the biggest houses I’ve ever been to.”
“I can never tell if people mean that as a compliment or just trying to politely tell me that Saltwater is intimidating.”
“The house has a name?” Yunho asks.
Wooyoung’s gaze falls onto the picture frame next to him. “My mother named it.”
“I can’t imagine naming the one I used to live in back in Seoul,” Yunho muses. “I had two housemates and they were all messy. My mother called it a dumpster once, that fits.”
“I thought you weren’t here to talk about yourself.”
Yunho coughs. “You’re right.” He glances outside, probably expecting the rain to let up, but it hasn’t. He picks up the watch from the coffee table, fiddling with it. “This must be expensive.”
“I gave that to him as a present,” Wooyoung says dryly. “He liked it when people stared at him whenever he went swimming with it.”
“Asshole,” Yunho grumbles, and then looks surprised that the word had slipped out of his mouth like that.
“I agree,” Wooyoung says mock-solemnly, and this makes Yunho laugh. He can see Yunho’s posture relaxing, leaning against the couch more comfortably, a telltale sign from people that they’re ready to open up a bit more. “So what brings you to Jeju?”
“My friend runs Utopia Cafe downtown. He offered me a job, so I’m trying it out for a couple of months,” Yunho explains. “He’s helping me make new music too.”
“Ah, cool, that place is popular,” Wooyoung’s been there a few times with his colleagues. Whenever there’s a performance going on the cafe is always fully booked and you’d have to queue outside to get in.
“Yeah? That’s great. I’ll be performing a couple of nights a week and help him manage some stuff there,” Yunho says, and there’s a pregnant pause, as if he doesn’t know whether he should be inviting Wooyoung to come over or not.
“I’ll recommend the place to my friends,” Wooyoung offers politely.
The rain doesn’t let up, so Wooyoung decides to make both of them ramyun and takes a bottle of soju and shot glasses, even though Yunho keeps telling him that he’s not hungry.
Except now they’re both at the dining table; Yunho scarfing down his bowl of ramyun while Wooyoung watches his former band’s first ever music video, Escape You .
“Oh my god, you had blue hair ,” Wooyoung exclaims when Yunho comes into view. They’re in some kind of dystopian-like maze, trying to find a way out while singing. “And you’re fighting monsters! But it’s a love song?”
“That kind of concept was trendy back then,” Yunho’s mouth is muffled as he swallows his noodles. “Come on, stop watching that. It’s embarrassing.”
There’s a scene of Yunho leaping from the ground to stab a monster and save members of his band. He looks focused, his brows pinched in anger, and there’s a triumphant smile on his face as the monster is slayed.
“The animation cost a bomb,” Yunho comments. “We lost a lot of money from that.”
“It looks fun,” Wooyoung says. “You looked like you enjoyed it.”
“I was eighteen and I thought I was an action movie star, so yeah,” Yunho laughs. “It didn’t last long… Reality hit us hard. We weren’t getting popular enough and our agency was losing so much money. We didn’t even last two years.”
Wooyoung grins. “You answered a question you were avoiding before!”
Yunho points at the soju bottle. “It’s because you’re getting me drunk.”
“Shut up, you’re not drunk,” Wooyoung swats his hand away. “Do people still recognise you on the street?”
“Not anymore,” Yunho answers. “They used to, but I think I’ve passed the expiration date for my mini fame.”
“What are the other MoonDay members doing now?"
“Well, I know Hyunwoo runs his own dance studio, Myungsoo is working towards being a doctor and the other two are running some kind of business,” he pauses. "We've don't really keep in touch nowadays."
“And you’re the only one still doing music?”
“Yep, I don’t think I can let it go easily," Yunho fiddles with his chopsticks. "I don't think I want to give up something I enjoy too much, even if it makes me look selfish."
“Man,” Wooyoung folds his arms, shaking his head. “I can’t believe Daeho has a cool twin.”
“I’m not cool,” Yunho protests. “He wears designer suits, makes a gazillion won monthly, and he pays for my parents’ house.”
“So?”
Yunho eyes him critically. “You won’t get it.”
Wooyoung crinkles his nose. “What do you mean?”
“Well, do you even work?”
“Have you been watching dramas? Of course I work!” Wooyoung huffs. “I’m a researcher at the Jeju Marine Research Centre.”
“Oh,” Yunho rubs his cheek. “That’s a serious job.”
“Duh?”
“I thought you were just slumming it here.”
Wooyoung chortles. “I’m not, unfortunately.” He downs a shot of soju. “It’s okay,” he adds, when he sees Yunho opening his mouth to apologise. “You’re not exactly the first person to think that. Won’t be the last either.”
“Yeah,” Yunho says, but in a tone that indicates he has more to say. Wooyoung braces for it, but the words never come. Instead, Yunho empties his glass and steers the conversation away. “Why did you break up with Daeho?”
“It just fizzled out,” Wooyoung eyes his empty glass. “Compatibility issues. It was never serious in the first place.”
Yunho squints. “That’s a generous assessment of my twin.”
“Also, again, he was an asshole,” Wooyoung adds. “He told me to sell this house to build a hotel, because it’d make a lot of money.”
Yunho exhales a breath. “Did he know that your mother designed this place?”
“Of course.”
It’s a pleasant surprise when Yunho doesn’t say things like He has a point or Well, why not? “Damn, that’s shitty. Sorry.”
Wooyoung scrunches up his face. “Don’t apologise for him.”
“He gets carried away by his ambitions,” Yunho fiddles with his soju glass. “It often brings out an ugly side of him.”
Wooyoung gives him a wry smile. “Have you ever tried switching places?”
“Ugh, I knew that question was gonna come,” Yunho replies, groaning. “Yeah, we used to pull that off when we were kids. I don’t think it can work now though.”
“Hmm,” Wooyoung leans closer, examining his face. “A few touch ups with your hair and outfit and I think it could work.”
“What’s wrong with my hair and clothes?” Yunho asks defensively.
“They’re not Daeho-like,” Wooyoung cackles. “Don’t worry, not everyone should pull off the big shot corporate dick look.”
The rain outside is starting to subside. Yunho swipes through his phone, booking himself a taxi ride. A part of Wooyoung wants to offer to drive him, but maybe it’s not such a good idea – Yunho seems to be someone with a lot of boundaries and he doesn’t really want to cross that, even if it’s through friendly gestures.
“You’re not what I expected,” Yunho says. “I’ve met his exes before and they tend to look down at other people.”
Wooyoung clinks his empty glass against Yunho’s. “Then I can be the cool ex, and you the cool twin. We match.”
***
A couple of days pass by and Wooyoung doesn’t think much about Yunho’s visit to his house. He has bigger things to worry about. Namely, his grandfather has flown all the way from Seoul to see him. It’s as rare as being able to see a shooting star on a cloudy night.
His grandparents have their own mansion on a hill in the outskirts of Jeju, away from the bustling downtown. Wooyoung doesn’t really venture out there unless he absolutely has to, like today.
He had just returned from diving when he gets Mingjeong’s texts about it:
minjeong
SOS SOS 🚨🚨grandpa is in jeju and he wants to see u
wooyoung
wHAT?
minjeong
uh yeah he met my parents about some inheritance thing y/day
and now it’s ur turn
wooyoung
ok it’s nbd then
minjeong
wooyoungie he’s been asking around about your dating life
plz dont kill me
but he saw the picture of you, me and daeho hanging out a few months ago
and now he’s curious
wooyoung
??? but we broke up
minjeong
ok so i kind of like
tried to tell him but he was weirdly excited about it???
i didnt give him a name tho i didnt tell him anything
im not a snitch :(((
wooyoung
ffs grandpa
it’s ok i’ll talk to him
With no time to get ready, Wooyoung grabs his car keys and heads outside – only to find his grandfather already in the garden, his white hair visible as he takes a stroll among the sunflowers and roses blooming in the summer.
He looks up and meets Wooyoung’s eyes. The relaxed expression on his grandfather’s face turns into something more serious. God, he dreads this.
“Grandfather,” he greets, bowing. “Would you like to come inside?”
“It’s fine. This was meant to be a short trip,” his grandfather says. “I’m going back to Seoul in a couple of hours.”
They sit down on a bench, and his grandfather starts asking him the usual question about his work. Wooyoung has to bite his tongue when his grandfather talks about how it's a waste of his talent to simply be a researcher. It's nothing new, but it's still irritating. Still, he lets his grandfather have his say because he's more worried about why he's here.
“Did I do something wrong?” he blurts out.
His grandfather lets out a laugh. “No, you haven’t.”
“Okay,” Wooyoung breathes a sigh of relief.
“Do you still like living here, Wooyoung?”
He nods. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”
His grandfather sighs, patting his shoulder. “I’ve been finalising some inheritance issues for the past few weeks. You already know that even though your mother built this house and you stand to inherit it, the land itself is mine.”
How can he forget? Even when his mother was getting sicker, his uncle Seojoon tried to get his grandfather to sell the house. Wooyoung avoids big family gatherings now simply because his uncle would try bringing it up each time, claiming that Wooyoung's holding the family back by keeping the house.
“I’ve been seriously considering selling it, Wooyoung-ah, because it would be a waste not to do anything with it.”
Cold sweat gathers at the back of his neck. Wooyoung expected this from his uncle, not from him. “Grandfather, you can’t be serious?”
“Your uncle and I did the accounts for this property. If we sell it – perhaps to a hotel developer – it would make a fortune. It would help the family.”
What are you talking about? Wooyoung wants to scream. Everyone has enough money! Most of his uncles and aunts aren’t living in South Korea anymore. They fly on private planes and stay in luxury five star hotels. What more could they want? Why does his mother’s house have to bore the brunt of their greed?
He tries to maintain a neutral expression on his face, even though all of him feels numb and all sounds around him are muffled, like he’s underwater and unable to go back to the surface. The last time he felt this way was during his mother’s funeral service.
Wooyoung stares down hard at the grass, hoping that his grandfather doesn’t notice that he’s trying his best to breathe normally.
“But I heard that you have a partner now,” his grandfather continues, and the question throws him off from his panic. “I saw a picture of you and him on Minjeong’s Instapic account.”
“Instagram, grandpa,” Wooyoung corrects him.
“Right, right,” his grandfather chuckles. “I’ve decided to put off finalising my decision about Saltwater for now, Wooyoung-ah. If you like living here, and you have a partner who’s committing to you, then I don’t think we should sell it. But you must introduce him to me.”
Fuck, Wooyoung's thoughts are scrambled. He and Daeho are already broken up and Wooyoung wouldn’t ever go back to him, not even for this – especially after what Daeho proposed, which was eerily similar to his grandfather’s idea.
His memory flashes back to when his mother was on the hospital bed, her cold hands taking his, her grip weak. Take care of the house, Wooyoung, his mother whispers. This is our home.
"Yes, I should do that," Wooyoung says hoarsely.
“How serious are you both?”
Have you ever tried switching places? He remembers asking Yunho.
“We’re engaged,” Wooyoung feels like he’s not in his skin as he says the lie out loud - he would have to deal with the consequences later. Right now, he is desperately clinging on to a rope to keep himself from falling. "His name is Jeong Yunho."