“I’m disappointed in you, Christopher.”A faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered. I inhaled as it brushed past my nostrils and opened my eyes. I was slumped in an armchair, head bowed. Had I fallen asleep? My neck ached. Blinking dully, I looked down at my feet. The polished tips of my dress shoes were bathed in sunlight. Morning, then? Since when?“You could have at least given me a heads-up. I nearly choked on my wine when I saw Raymond sitting there,” Christopher said, his voice cold and low.“As I told you last night, taking you to the banquet was a coincidence. Even if I had wanted to warn you, you were off playing the big spy in London—how could I have known?”I shook off the heavy drowsiness and blinked slowly. Staring at my neatly laced shoes, a chill ran through me. The shoes, the socks, even the suit were all pristine, as if last night had been a dream. I lifted my head, repulsed.A massive window filled the wall before me, its thick wooden frame forming a large rectangle from floor to ceiling. Sunlight poured in through its panes. Beyond the glass, a fountain adorned with a beautiful statue glistened as droplets of water caught the light. The courtyard outside looked unreal in its peaceful stillness. The murmur of voices behind me faded into the distance.It was only much later that I thought about standing up. My legs trembled as I rose, and the conversation stopped. My head spun and a wave of pain struck me; I gripped the armrest and drew a breath. Bracing myself against the chair’s back, I turned—and locked eyes with two men who had been watching me in silence. Christopher, dressed as he had last night, and Jerome.Though alert now, the pain left me standing wordlessly for a moment. Exhausted nearly to collapse, I clung to the armrest. Only now did I piece together the conversation I’d overheard: Jerome was scolding Christopher for not warning me that I would appear at last night’s dinner—almost as if they were colluding. And looking at them, they did seem oddly close.Their camaraderie struck me as strange, as serene as the courtyard outside. The two of them faced me side by side, and it felt awkward. It shouldn’t have: Jerome had betrayed Christopher once, had sold him into the brothel at the top level, driving Christopher’s parents to suicide and forcing Christopher to flee his home. Jerome was that kind of person; so were all those boys at the top level. I gripped the armrest so tightly my knuckles whitened and spoke.“I need an explanation, Christopher.”The lingering smell of smoke must have come from Christopher. He tossed his cigarette—already burned to the filter—onto the floor and stamped it out with his shoe.“If I’m not mistaken, you two seem pretty close.”He crushed the butt firmly and crossed his muscular arms. Like rock, immovable. In an unforced, low voice he replied, “It’s not your imagination. We’ve known each other again for some time.”“That doesn’t explain anything.”“….”“It explains nothing at all, Christopher!”I shouted with all my strength—and my legs gave out. I began to collapse forward, my nose headed for the marble floor, but a strong hand caught me.It was Jerome. Surprised, I reflexively shoved him away, but stumbled over the chair and nearly fell again. Jerome grabbed me and hauled me back, seating me forcibly. He stepped back. It was surreal: the boy who had ridden in like a demon on horseback, wielding a whip in madness, now stood calm, steady, helping me into the chair. I could hardly believe that this was the same man whose flesh I’d torn with my fists, bloodied him and yet he never stopped smiling.“What on earth… is this, Christopher?”“You just keep demanding more and more, Raymond.”Christopher’s tone was cold.“You said it yourself: you don’t need me to take responsibility for you, and neither I nor anyone else needs to. I brought you to the banquet, as you wanted. I’ve given you everything I could.”“So that’s why you never spoke up and sent me away—you were in league with him, protecting Jerome.”“Think what you will. In any case, the banquet’s over. It’s time for you to leave.”“….”“Go home.”Anger surged in me, nearly suffocating. After eight years of searching for Christopher, I’d never imagined this. My predecessor’s collusion with the top-level boys—I thought of George stripped of his skin, that silicone mask drawn tight over those mad, blue eyes. I met Christopher’s blazing blue gaze.“I see… that you truly…”Christopher answered only with stubborn silence. I clenched the armrest and turned to Jerome. He watched us from a step back, disdain etched on his face.“You must have wanted his leave of absence, too—wanted someone like George?”“What harsh words. Even so, Christopher is better than George.”“Why do you answer him?”Christopher, irritated, lit another cigarette. Jerome nonchalantly handed him a light.“You don’t understand how persistent Raymond is.”“Persist? If you’d heard what I’ve endured this past month, you wouldn’t say that.”I stared blankly at their easy rapport. No matter how much I denied it, they were allies. There was a bond between Christopher and Jerome—Christopher seemed even more connected to Jerome than to me.I could not comprehend it. My head felt as though it would burst. On Christopher’s face, there was no trace of hatred or disgust toward Jerome—no anger, no loathing. Rather, they looked like equals, like old friends. It felt surreal, like watching a dreamscape.Just the other night—it had not been years, only days—Christopher and I had been tangled together in misery. We had tried to find release by hand or mouth, but could not. It was Jerome who had turned us into those monsters. He, alone, had condemned me to relive my past until my dying breath.Yet here Christopher was, chatting with Jerome as if nothing had happened. Like George, once Hugh’s pet, then his lover. I could not calm my trembling body.“Last night should have been enough, Raymond.”Christopher spoke, watching me tremble.“I’ve called someone to take you back. They’ll see you to Portsmouth. After that, you’re on your own.”“….”“Since things have come to this, I’ll be frank: I understand your feelings toward Jerome—but I cannot allow you to take revenge right now. I [N O V E L I G H T] need Jerome.”Jerome, silent until then, drawled, “How touching.” But Christopher ignored him and continued.“You step back. Once my business is done, I won’t care what you do. But not now. If you keep pestering me like this, I won’t remain silent. Understand? Leave Jerome alone.”As Christopher spoke, my anger and shaking slowly subsided. He had used my rage against Jerome as bait to brush aside the dinner with Timothy as if it never happened. He had desperately tried to deceive me.Although half- dazed by last night, I was not completely out of my mind. Last night I had not only endured horrors in the club but attended the banquet, heard Timothy’s real motives in digging into Hugh and George’s deaths, and witnessed Christopher and Jerome conspiring to hide the real Sergio Terres.It was clear Christopher and Jerome had a plot centered on Timothy. They shared a secret and were on the same side. I recalled Christopher walking away from me without a glance last night. I was a fatal weakness in their strange alliance. I exhaled slowly. But their alliance didn’t concern me. What I wanted, what I’d sought for so long, was only the top-level boys—Hugh and George, Jerome and Simon. I wanted revenge on those four detestable boys. That was all that mattered. I had no reason to feel betrayed by Christopher. Whether he and Jerome were allied or not was none of my concern. I clenched my teeth and glared at them.“I said yourself that you’ve done everything by bringing me to the banquet. You don’t need to see me off or take responsibility. No one needs to.”“….”“Leave me alone. I’m staying in this mansion. I don’t expect anything more from you, Christopher. Let’s act our own ways.”I spoke from deep betrayal.“Then I should meet Timothy again. From what I heard yesterday, he’s been looking for me. Isn’t that right, Jerome? Don’t you have something to tell him about Sergio Terres?”Christopher’s eyes narrowed. Jerome burst into outright laughter. I glared at laughing Jerome as though I would tear him apart. Unfazed, he offered me a cigarette. Christopher snatched it away.“Why won’t he listen?”“I told you, he’s persistent. If coaxing worked, we wouldn’t be here.”“Even if it was dangerous, we should have sent him off at dawn.”“Too many eyes at dawn. Now is better.”“Then what about him? Knock him out again?”At the mention of knockout, my entire body tensed. Jerome regarded me silently, then fetched a chair. He placed it before me and sat, brazen and close enough for our knees to nearly touch.“Of course…”Smoke curled from the cigarette between his red lips. Sunlight from behind softened his features. Beyond the haze, his face shone strangely beautiful.“Of course you’re angry, Raymond.”His lips, torn by my bite last night, still looked ravaged—yet beautiful. My anger surged back. His hand shot to my thigh, stroking up slowly as he asked in a calm voice,“Do you want to kill me?”“No.”I gritted my teeth.“I want revenge.”“You want revenge.”Jerome pondered silently, tapping ash between my legs. Then he murmured,“So that’s why you spent eight years chasing us but never came to see us. That was it.”A surge of exhilaration prickled my neck, and I closed my eyes. The satisfaction of Jerome’s words flooded me—it was shameful, yet pleasing. For years I’d feared he might forget me, that Simon might stop loving me, that my life under the top-level boys’ domination would be erased.Jerome’s single phrase—that he hadn’t forgotten me—brought a shameful, soaring joy. Unlike last night’s triumphant laugh or my biting of his lips, I only drew ragged breaths.“You plotted while you waited for the right moment. Impressive.”“….”“Eight years is a long time. Too long, Raymond. You dreamed only of revenge and counted down to the day you’d meet me again?”“Yes.”Jerome’s smile was dazzling. I could tell how much my answer pleased him. The fact that we shared the same satisfaction was paradoxical and shameful—but also satisfying.“You really held out all this time. It’s been almost ten years.”“Yes, you bastard.”“Well done. So why wait? Do it now.”Jerome stamped out his cigarette with his heel and yanked the chair so I was pulled into his lap. I glared as though to kill him, but he merely leaned closer.“We’re finally reunited. The day you longed for is here—so don’t waste any more time.”He sat there, utterly unguarded, as though I could throttle him at any moment. Yet I didn’t move a finger. Jerome kept staring into my eyes, his battered lips parting as he urged me on.

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