Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 3: A Bet That Never Counted

To Ha Giyeon, his hyungs were overwhelming, towering figures.

Dazzling and heroic—like princes or warriors from a fairytale, slaying evil.

He used to feel proud just knowing Ha Dohoon was his brother. He looked up to their every move, imitating them. If they skipped school to go hang out, he’d skip too. Even if he had allergies to the food they were eating, he’d eat it with them without hesitation.

They had once seemed so cool, so worthy of admiration.

But now... they just look like regular high schoolers.

Ha Dohoon frowned slightly as he approached Giyeon.

“What the hell? Weren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve been up for a while.”

Dohoon clicked his tongue, looking at him with disdain.

“Skipping breakfast just to sleep in. When are you gonna grow the hell up?”

Then his eyes drifted to the tray with the tart.

Giyeon hadn’t shown up for breakfast this morning—odd, considering he was usually the first one at the table. It was only a fleeting thought; as usual, Dohoon didn’t think too much about it and ate like normal. But the memory of seeing him at dawn crossed his mind. Showing up out of nowhere with plum tea—he’d figured he’d take a sip for the effort, then toss it.

But instead, the kid said it was his and walked off with it.

Dohoon hadn’t assumed it was his out of entitlement. That was the weird part—why did it bother him so much? Even if it was Giyeon’s, hadn’t he always given it to him anyway?

It rubbed him the wrong way.

“You—”

“I already ate breakfast.”

“...What?”

Dohoon’s brow twitched.

Giyeon shrugged and lifted the tray, heading for the kitchen. Choi Mujin, who saw him approaching, scowled.

“Hey. If you’re not gonna eat it, toss it.”

“I am gonna eat it.”

Why were they acting like they had any say over what he did with his own food? That tart wasn’t cheap or easy to come by.

“...You’re gonna eat that?”

“Yeah. You guys don’t eat this kind of stuff anyway.”

Their baffled expressions stirred an old memory in Giyeon. Back then, he used to prepare snacks without being asked. He’d bring what they liked, ask if they wanted anything, run errands for them.

He still remembered sweating bullets in the summer as he ran out to buy hot udon just because one of them had casually said they were craving it. Kwon Jongseok, specifically—he'd begged for it, but then didn’t touch a single bite.

That was always how it went. They rarely ate what he brought.

They never planned to eat it anyway.

Why was he running around for them?

He’d known it deep down. They didn’t really want food—they just wanted to toss him a stick like a dog and watch him go fetch. It was a game to them. Good thing he finally realized it, even if it was late.

“So what about us?”

Even seeing that smile—he didn’t feel a thing anymore.

Jongseok leaned in close with a grin, but Giyeon just blinked back at him.

“You can ask the housekeeper or order delivery.”

It was a perfectly logical answer. For people who didn’t know how to do anything themselves, it was an easy solution.

But it wasn’t the answer they wanted.

They were expecting something more like: "What do you want to eat, hyung? I’ll run out and get it right now!"

That was the old Giyeon. The one who’d jump to his feet just because someone said they were hungry.

Now, looking back... he realized he didn’t even have a facial expression.

Wait...

Were they seriously sulking?

Maybe they were still hung up on that trip to the villa—when they’d called Giyeon over to bring the game console and then left him there by himself. Lately, they’d been going on trips without him altogether.

Dohoon let out a sigh.

“What are you, five? Seriously—are you sulking?”

“...?”

“Come on. At least come watch us play or something.”

He said it like he was being generous. Kwon Jongseok and Choi Mujin finally relaxed their expressions a bit too.

“Ohh, you were sulking? You missed hanging out with us?”

“So damn petty...”

Mujin looked annoyed as he reached out to put Giyeon in a headlock—just like always, like nothing had changed.

But—

Slip.

“...?”

Like a cat, Giyeon evaded Mujin’s arm and stepped aside. Then he bowed his head lightly, picked up his tray, and walked out of the kitchen.

The three of them were left standing there, staring dumbly at the spot he’d disappeared from.

“What the hell was that...”

“Giyeon... really seems pissed off.”

“Ha... seriously...”

Dohoon swept his hair back in frustration.

“Whatever. He’ll cool off on his own.”

“Not like it really matters to us anyway.”

“Fucking hell, this is annoying.”

They were bewildered and irritated by the unfamiliar situation—but none of them gave it much weight. It’d blow over in a day, they figured. Probably just an attention thing. All they had to do was ignore it like usual.

But there was one thing they had failed to realize.

Ha Giyeon...

Had never been angry with them before.

***

“What the hell are they talking about?”

Sipping his coffee in his room, Ha Giyeon mulled over what the hyungs had said. But he still couldn’t understand.

“They think I’m sulking?”

Why would I?

It’s not like I ignored them or snapped at them. All I did was take a tart from the fridge.

...Is it because I didn’t bring them snacks?

They didn’t even take a bite before throwing them out—why should I keep buying food for them? It was a waste of money. Especially when every penny counts for me now. If they handed him a card, maybe, but Giyeon had zero intention of running errands for them ever again. He had to save every cent. Take it lightly, and he’d end up homeless again.

The memory of his goshiwon life flashed through his mind, and his face twisted with distaste. Bugs were a given, the walls were practically paper-thin with zero soundproofing. People moaning on purpose, knocking on doors, and from the other side of that flimsy wall...

“Ugh...”

He downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp just to get the thoughts out of his head. The bitter taste filled his mouth, instantly snapping him back to reality.

If he sat around like this, he’d just end up living the same miserable life again. The regression would’ve meant nothing.

“No fucking way...”

He refused to go back to a life worse than death. Clenching his trembling hands into fists, he pulled out his phone and laptop to search for part-time jobs. He applied to everything that looked remotely possible.

“The farther from the house and school, the better...”

There weren’t many places to work around here anyway, but even if there were, he wouldn’t take them. Most of the people in this neighborhood—this mansion included—were deeply embedded in the business elite. Even if they’d never spoken directly, they knew each other well. Because their kids would all be competitors someday.

Always sizing each other up—figuring out who to bow to, and who they could step on.

Ha Dohoon’s family belonged to the ones doing the stepping. Giyeon, though, wasn’t even in the same league. A blemish. A shameful stain on an otherwise perfect family.

Especially when compared to Ha Dohoon, he was often humiliated or mocked at parties. His parents hated bringing him to family events or gatherings.

“Guess I don’t have to go anymore.”

He used to tag along just to prove he was part of the family, to be seen and acknowledged. But there was no need now. His parents didn’t want him to be seen as their child—and now, he didn’t either.

If he could just live like air—quiet and unnoticed—until he left this place...

“Perfect.”

He sent out a few job applications in neighborhoods far from home. He just hoped at least one would reply.

“Oh right. Gotta go buy a workbook.”

He grabbed his coat and stepped out of the house.

Meanwhile

“......”

“......”

Clink. The occasional ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) sound of dishes colliding broke the silence of breakfast. It was the usual scene: no conversation, no warmth—just people silently eating. But today, something about that atmosphere irritated Ha Dohoon.

Tap tap.

He aimlessly tapped his chopsticks against his bowl and flicked his gaze sideways—toward the empty seat next to him.

Ha Giyeon’s seat.

It had been ten days now since Giyeon last showed up for breakfast.

He didn’t know if the kid wasn’t eating at all or just eating separately. Their parents hadn’t asked. Not once in the past ten days had they shown any concern or curiosity.

And neither had Dohoon.

He didn’t care whether the kid ate or not. All that changed was the empty chair where someone used to sit.

Clack.

“Ma’am.”

He set his chopsticks down and called out to the housekeeper.

“Is Ha Giyeon not eating?”

“Master Giyeon had breakfast early this morning.”

“......”

Dohoon scowled. That’s what was bothering him.

Why the hell was the kid suddenly eating early? He was always the first to show up at the table. And it’s not like he was the early-rising type.

Without another word, Dohoon wiped his mouth and stood up.

“I’m done.”

“Sit down. It’s still breakfast time,” his father said.

“Why? So I can sit here and watch you all eat?”

“Ha Dohoon.”

His father’s voice grew stern, but Dohoon’s brow twitched.

“Dohoon.”

His mother’s tone was gentler, trying to rein him in. Reluctantly, he sat back down.

His father turned to the housekeeper again.

“Go get Ha Giyeon and bring him downstairs.”

“Um... Master Giyeon already left the house early this morning.”

“...Left? He left?”

The kid who spent his whole break holed up in his room went out early in the morning? Where would he even go? It’s not like he had friends to hang out with—there’s no way he went to a PC room or anything.

“What the hell is this...”

Dohoon rubbed his temples. The guy was acting so out of character, it was giving him a headache. Was he seriously still sulking? Was this some dramatic cry for attention?

It had to be. Craving affection and attention—yeah, that was just like him.

“Ha...”

Normally, Dohoon wouldn’t have given a shit if the kid was sulking. But something had changed. He’d decided to humor him. Partly because he had no one to run errands anymore, and partly because he just wanted to get rid of this annoying, grimy feeling in his chest.

So Dohoon called up Kwon Jongseok and Choi Mujin.

“What’s up with you? You never tell us to come over first.”

“Did Giyeon ask you to call us or something?”

Jongseok grinned confidently, but Dohoon didn’t answer. He just stood up from the sofa with a faintly annoyed look and gestured at them.

“Call him. Both of you.”

“Call... Giyeon?”

“He’s not here?”

“Yeah. He left this morning.”

Normally, the two of them wouldn’t have bothered. But after not seeing Giyeon for several days, they hesitated, then pulled out their phones.

“Hold on, I’ve got like three different ‘Ha Giyeon’ contacts saved.”

“Hey, wanna make a bet?” Mujin smirked, shaking his phone.

“Let’s see who he answers first.”

“What are we betting this time?”

“Let’s go with watches.”

All three of them took off their watches and placed them on the table. Each one worth several thousand dollars, at least. And they were using Giyeon as the deciding factor.

But the bet never counted.

Because Ha Giyeon didn’t pick up for any of them.