Same Night — Eom Residence, Romeo's Room
The house had finally quieted.
Not completely.
It never did.
Even in silence, the Eom residence breathed—distant footsteps, the faint hum of central heating, the quiet shifting of a house too large to ever truly sleep.
But here—
In Eom Sera's room—
there was a different kind of stillness.
Romeo sat on the edge of his bed, hoodie half-on, hair still slightly damp from a rushed shower. The events of the day lingered in his shoulders—fans, cameras, family, him.
His father.
He exhaled slowly.
"…What a day."
A voice answered instantly.
"Food."
Romeo didn't even look up.
"No."
A pause.
Then—
"Food."
Romeo dragged a hand down his face.
"You just ate."
"I did not."
"You ate during dinner."
"That was social eating. It doesn't count."
Romeo finally looked toward the voice.
Floating lazily near the ceiling was his wài yǒu.
Unlike Bessie's soft glow—
this one looked like trouble given form.
A small, dark, swirling figure—like a piece of night that had decided to exist independently. No wings. Just suspension. Gravity didn't apply.
Its "eyes" glowed faintly.
Its shape constantly shifted, like smoke that refused to dissipate.
Romeo narrowed his eyes.
"You had three servings."
"I had samples."
"You stole food off other plates."
"They weren't paying attention."
"You ate Ji-hwan's dessert."
"He was weak."
Romeo stared.
"…You're a problem."
The wài yǒu drifted lower, hovering upside down in front of him.
"And yet, I am your problem."
Romeo sighed.
He reached for the mini fridge beside his desk and opened it.
Inside—
Carefully arranged drinks.
Snacks.
Leftover desserts.
He grabbed a small container and tossed it lightly upward.
The wài yǒu caught it mid-air without touching it.
The lid popped open by itself.
Within seconds—
Gone.
Completely.
Romeo blinked.
"You didn't even chew."
"I absorbed it."
"That's not normal."
"I am not normal."
Romeo leaned back on his bed.
"…Fair."
The wài yǒu floated closer again, circling him slowly like a curious predator.
"You are troubled."
Romeo scoffed.
"You say that every time I'm quiet."
"And I am always right."
Silence.
The city lights slipped through the curtains, painting faint lines across the room.
"…He showed up again," Romeo said finally.
"I noticed."
"With her."
"I noticed."
"And the kid."
The wài yǒu paused.
"…You did not hate the child."
Romeo's gaze softened slightly.
"He's three."
"That does not stop humans from being cruel."
"I'm not him."
The wài yǒu drifted closer.
"You carry his blood."
Romeo's eyes sharpened.
"I don't carry his choices."
A beat.
The wài yǒu hummed—low, thoughtful.
"Good answer."
Romeo looked away, toward the window.
"…He was watching us."
"Of course he was."
"Not like a father."
"No."
"Like a businessman."
"Yes."
Romeo clenched his jaw slightly.
The wài yǒu drifted toward the ceiling again.
"Your world is changing."
Romeo let out a quiet laugh.
"It always is."
"Faster now."
Romeo closed his eyes briefly.
"Contracts."
"Yes."
"Two months."
"Yes."
"People moving behind the scenes."
"Yes."
Romeo opened his eyes.
"…You sound like you know something."
"I always know something."
"That's not comforting."
"It is not meant to be."
Romeo sat up.
"Then say it."
The wài yǒu drifted down slowly, hovering directly in front of him.
For once—
it wasn't joking.
"There is a fire moving toward you."
Romeo frowned.
"That could mean anything."
"It does."
"Helpful."
"And yet, you understand."
Romeo didn't answer.
Because he did.
Something about today—
The airport.
The crowd.
His father.
The tension in the air.
Even the way his manager had said two months.
It all felt…
aligned.
Like pieces shifting into place.
"…I don't like it," Romeo muttered.
"You are not meant to."
The wài yǒu suddenly perked up again.
"Also—food."
Romeo groaned.
"You just ate."
"That was minutes ago."
"That doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Romeo grabbed a snack bar and tossed it up.
Gone instantly.
"Unbelievable."
"I am a void."
"You're a bottomless pit."
"I prefer 'cosmic entity.'"
Romeo smirked faintly.
"…You're annoying."
"And yet, you feed me."
Romeo lay back again, staring at the ceiling.
The wài yǒu drifted beside him now, quieter.
Not sleeping.
Just… present.
After a while, Romeo spoke again.
"…Do you think it'll get worse?"
The wài yǒu didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Yes."
Romeo let out a slow breath.
"…Figures."
Another pause.
Then, softer—
"But you will not face it alone."
Romeo turned his head slightly.
The wài yǒu hovered there, faintly pulsing.
Constant.
Unshaken.
Hungry.
Always hungry.
Romeo chuckled under his breath.
"…Yeah."
Outside, Seoul stretched endlessly.
Inside—
A boy who carried too much.
And a creature that consumed everything.
Both waiting.
For whatever was coming next.