Chapter 2

　　“What are you doing? Are you coming or not?”

　　When I stopped dead in my tracks, Handsome Guy No.3 (I was mentally numbering them in the order we had met) waved me over.

　　“Yeah, I’m coming.”

　　I brushed off my ridiculous suspicions and hurried after him. What was wrong with me today? Was it because I had met three ridiculously good-looking guys in a row? Because this was just a dream? Suddenly, every man I looked at seemed gay to me.

　　I don’t think I can ever read a BL novel again.

　　If it hadn’t been for Seongjae’s dying wish, I would have gone my whole life without knowing the genre even existed. Now, I was way too well-versed in it. The tropes were bleeding into my everyday life, and it was seriously starting to freak me out.

　　At this rate, just like the old joke goes, I was going to start assigning top and bottom dynamics to nuts and bolts. Ah, wait, is it bolts and nuts?

　　Argh! Stop it!

　　If there hadn’t been people around, I would have torn my hair out. I forced myself to hold it together. I had a sinking feeling that I needed to stay as calm and well-behaved as possible if I wanted to remain in this dream for a long time.

　　To my immense embarrassment, the third handsome guy’s car was simply parked in a paid lot right behind the motel strip.

　　Of course it is. My brain is just rotten. I suddenly felt a wave of guilt for twisting his genuine kindness into dirty thoughts. Mr. Dream Resident, we probably won’t ever cross paths again, but I am sorry. I mistook you for trash when, in reality, I am the trash.

　　After delivering my silent apology, I climbed into the back seat. The guy froze halfway into the driver’s seat, looking back at me.

　　“Why are you sitting back there? Are you mad at me or something?”

　　I had unconsciously slipped into the back. Startled, I scrambled to apologize.

　　“Oh, sorry! I guess I just treated it like a taxi out of habit.”

　　“Whatever. I’m basically your personal chauffeur tonight anyway. Since you’re already back there, just lie down for a bit. I’ll get you home safely.”

　　The third handsome guy was just as sweet as he looked. I couldn’t believe I had actually pegged him as some obsessive, yandere top. I really was the absolute worst.

　　Taking his advice, I curled up and lay down across the back seat. The car was incredibly spacious, making it surprisingly comfortable. This car has to be expensive, right? How much would a ride like this even cost? Probably more than the security deposit on our apartment, easy.

　　Distracting myself with this nonsense, I draped an arm over my aching eyes.

　　The truth was, I hadn’t climbed into the back because I mistook his car for a taxi. Ever since losing Seongjae in a fatal traffic accident, I couldn’t bring myself to sit in the passenger seat. Every time I tried, all I could see was my brother.

　　If only I had been the one driving. If only I hadn’t let you take the wheel, fresh off getting your license.

　　The accident might never have happened. It wasn’t Seongjae’s fault. It was mine. I was the adult, and I made the wrong call. Because of me, my young, barely grown brother died.

　　I should have been more careful. I should have protected him.

　　I didn’t want to wake up from this dream. Lying in the back seat on the drive home, that was the only thought cycling through my mind. I wanted to stay in this dream forever, just to be by Seongjae’s side. To stay with my little brother.

* * *

　　That being said, I hadn’t meant for it to last this long.

　　Two full weeks passed. In that time, I lived a ridiculously busy life. Adjusting to college, an experience I had never actually had before, left me completely overwhelmed. In between classes, I spent my time trying to figure out how the rules of this world differed from reality.

　　In this dream, I was twenty-one years old. The exact age Seongjae was when he died. Somehow, I had regressed to the age my late brother had been.

　　There were a few glaring differences between this dream and reality. One of them was that Seongjae, who was supposed to be five years younger than me, was only one year younger here.

　　On top of that, the universe had decided I had taken an extra year to study for my entrance exams before getting into Hankuk University, making Seongjae and me freshmen in the exact same year.

　　Seongjae was majoring in English Education, and I was in Korean Education. We both were two brothers on track to become teachers.

　　To make things even better, our late parents had left us a massive inheritance of prime real estate and a nine-figure bank account. We were completely set. Living a life where tuition and daily expenses were never a worry was a luxury I would never get to experience outside of a dream.

　　But because the dream was dragging on so long, and because every day connected seamlessly to the next, as vivid as real life, I actually started entertaining the delusion that this wasn’t a dream anymore.

　　Still, no way. Come on. There was no chance.

　　Time always feels weirdly stretched out when you are dreaming, right? That had to be it.

　　Besides, I had one very specific reason to be absolutely certain none of this was real.

　　“Hngh, H-Hyeonje.”

　　“Ugh. Seowoo, loosen up.”

　　“Y-you’re, hnngh, using too much force!”

　　I was trapped in the restroom, unable to do anything but hold my breath. I did not want to interrupt the couple having a good time in the next stall.

　　All I had wanted was to eat my triangle kimbap in peace. So why was I subjected to wet, slapping sounds that no one should ever be making in a public restroom?

　　Once the heavy panting finally subsided, the couple shuffled out, bickering in hushed tones. Only then was I free to escape my cramped prison.

　　I vigorously washed my hands. Stepping into the hallway, I stared bleakly at the blue, pants-wearing icon plastered on the bathroom door.

　　Right. I had just walked out of the men’s room. That was exactly why I couldn’t accept this world as reality.

　　This is a dream. It has to be.

　　Was I having this kind of twisted dream because my brain had rotted from reading too much BL? Is this what those fantasy novels call a transmigration story? Though, since I still had my own face, maybe dimensional travel was more accurate.

　　I didn’t know what genre of fiction I was currently trapped in, but either way, it was definitely a dream. Otherwise, there was no logical explanation for why the prestigious Hankuk University was populated exclusively by gay men.

　　Three times, I had gone into a restroom only for them to start f*cking in the next stall. Once, I had entered an empty classroom for a nap and found two men tangled together. Twice, I had gone out drinking and caught classmates kissing in an alley.

　　What kind of school was this? No one studied; everyone seemed absorbed in having s*x. And every couple consisted of two men. Gays here, gays there.

　　I really had read too much BL, and for far too long, even though it was not to my taste. Because I had to write reviews, I could not even skim. For three years, I had read about every kind of love and s*x between men without skipping a single word.

　　It was hard enough to endure it in print, but seeing it play out right in front of my own eyes was pure torture. The only thing I had gotten out of this entire ordeal was the rock-solid realization that I was, without a doubt, one hundred percent straight.

　　Still, there was a massive upside to being stuck in this dream.

　　The best part of all this insanity was that Seongjae was alive. Right after leaving the bathroom, I got a text from him and practically sprinted toward the central campus building like my a*s was on fire.

　　I spotted Seongjae waiting at the bottom of the main staircase. The sight of my little brother standing there, looking so grown-up, brought a proud, goofy grin to my face. Damn, my little brother turned out great.

　　And I wasn’t just being biased, as Seongjae was genuinely adorable. Always rocking those round, wire-rimmed glasses and soft flannel shirts, my little brother was the definition of cute. Even his height was compact and endearing, standing just under five-foot-seven.

　　I sneaked up behind him and tackled him into a tight hug.

　　“Seongjae!”

　　“Ah! I told you to stop doing this in public!” Seongjae grumbled, trying to peel my arms off him. Even his annoyance was cute.

　　“Did you eat?” I asked.

　　“Do you know what time it is? Of course I did. What about you?”

　　I had been about to eat my triangle kimbap, but a couple barged into the next stall and started f*cking, making me drop it on the floor. It killed my appetite, and I had not felt like buying anything else, so I had been starving ever since.

　　“Of course I did too. You don’t need to worry about me.”

　　“Seongjae, who is this?” A soft voice piped up from beside us. I hadn’t even noticed her standing there. A girl lingering next to Seongjae pointed at me, her tone cautious. Seongjae shot me a look, sighed heavily, and introduced me.

　　“This is my older brother, Han Taewoon. He’s a year older than me, but he took a gap year to retake the entrance exam, so we’re in the same class. He’s a Korean Education major.”

　　“Hello! I’m Park Jeongyeon. I’m in Seongjae’s program.”

　　“Nice to meet you, Jeongyeon. I’m Taewoon.”

　　In my past, the second I saw a pretty girl next to my brother, I would have instantly started teasing him, asking if she was his new girlfriend. But now, I knew Seongjae was gay. I wasn’t entirely sure if that held true in this dream world too, but either way, I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by jumping to heteronormative conclusions. So, I kept my mouth shut.

　　Seongjae narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down suspiciously. Even the way he frowned while tilting his head was adorable.

　　“Taewoon, you’re seriously handsome,” Jeongyeon blurted out. “And you’re so tall! You and Seongjae don’t look alike at all.”

　　“Don’t roast me like that,” Seongjae grumbled. “He stole all the genetic nutrients that were supposed to go to me in the womb. He’s six feet tall, and I’m five-seven. How does that make any sense?”

　　“You’re not even five-seven,” I teased. “I’m looking at you right now, and you’re barely pushing five-six.”

　　“Okay, we’re leaving,” Seongjae snapped.

　　He grabbed my arm, forcibly dragging me away. I managed to wave over my shoulder.

　　“Bye, Jeongyeon! Catch you later!”

　　Seongjae jutted his lower lip out in a pout. “What do you mean, catch you later? She’s my friend.”

　　“Exactly. She’s your friend, which means I’ll definitely see her around.”

　　“Don’t even try. You’re too good for her. Besides, she already has a boyfriend.”

　　I clutched my chest, genuinely touched. Seongjae could be a little prickly, but he always looked out for me in his own grumpy way. Such a good kid.

　　Honestly, it was becoming a real problem how easily I teared up at mundane moments like this. I aggressively rubbed my nose so he wouldn’t realize I was getting emotional.

　　“Are you crying again?” Seongjae asked, eyeing me.

　　“I’m not. Why would I be crying?”

　　“Right. Sure. Seriously, what’s up with you lately? You cry at the drop of a hat.”

　　Seongjae stared at me like I was a total weirdo. If I confessed that even his suspicious glaring made my heart swell with happiness, he would definitely think I belonged in a psych ward, right? But I couldn’t help it. I was in a world where he was alive.

　　The sole reason I wanted to stay in this surreal fever dream was him.

　　I could handle an entire campus full of gay men as long as my little brother was by my side. And as long as they kept their hands off me, who cared? I was straight anyway.

　　“So,” Seongjae prompted. “Have you made a lot of friends in your program?”

　　I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Made a lot of friends? If I had friends, I wouldn’t have been unwrapping cheap rice balls alone in a bathroom stall. Obviously, I kept that depressing reality to myself.

　　“Of course I have! I’ve gotten super close with a bunch of guys in my classes.”

　　“Really? That’s a relief. You’ve got a great personality, so I figured you would click with people fast.”

　　Haha, oh, Seongjae. You grossly overestimate your older brother. To his credit, I really wasn’t an abrasive guy; back in the real world, I usually got along with people just fine.

　　But at Hankuk University, mingling casually was a literal minefield. The ratio of gay men here defied all laws of statistics.

　　If your hands so much as accidentally brushed against another guy’s, their entire demeanor shifted. They would immediately start pushing boundaries, testing the waters for physical intimacy. Every single time it happened, I was left agonizing over whether it was just platonic bromance or the prelude to a seduction attempt. Eventually, I just started avoiding people altogether.

　　As a result, I had become a campus ghost, navigating the school alone without a single actual friend. To make matters worse, I had somehow managed to make an enemy without even trying. There was one guy who glared daggers at me every single time we crossed paths.

　　Why does he hate me so much?

　　I thought back to the guy I had run into earlier in my general elective.