SWCL 13🧠

Chapter 13

The rumors surrounding Jung Tae-heon were only half true.
In America, there were plenty of kids who casually did drugs at parties. Tae-heon had watched them ruin their own lives with detached curiosity.

And when he happened to notice a girl in real danger during one of those wild hours, he would drive her home.

He never sat hunched in the corner like a nerd, but neither did he cross the line—beer pong, some drinking, and the occasional cigarette were about the extent of his rebellion.

When brawls broke out between rival groups, Tae-heon never threw a punch himself. He’d only block or dodge, trying halfheartedly to break up the fight.
The DUI rumor? That was actually the time he spotted a drunk driver and called the police, but the story had warped in the retelling. Gambling? Just small bets and card games with friends. The gaming addiction? It was only because he woke up at dawn once in a while to play online with friends back in Korea.

But since he was often seen in the same places as rich kids with rotten reputations, the gossip naturally spiraled into something darker.

And Tae-heon never explained himself—not to anyone but his family. Even to his parents, he only admitted that he was a son who might someday slip up, but who had, so far, stayed just within the line.

In truth, Tae-heon was a fairly decent teenager. He might have made his parents’ hearts race across the Pacific, but he always knew where to stop—always just short of disaster.

When it came to relationships, though, he had little defense.

He never juggled girlfriends, but he did date more than a few. And if someone better came along, he had no trouble breaking up and moving on.

Thanks to the enviable genetics his parents had blessed him with, finding a willing partner was about as easy as breathing.

“Theo, you went to the market with Chloe, right? That’s a date. Why did you do that?”
“She asked me to go.”
“What?”
“You hang out with your guy friends too. Is that a problem?”

Never once had he given his heart away.

“Theo, sometimes you seem… empty. Look at you now—like everything is boring, like everything is a chore.”

He knew that boredom was a luxury of the comfortable. And so he floated along, like a buoy on still water, content with a life free of passion.

One day, a Korean exchange student recommended a TV show. Tae-heon had nothing better to do, so he watched.

It was one of those common, brutal talent shows—contestants wore masks, sang under nicknames, and only the winner could reveal their face. Most were already somewhat known singers, and fans online quickly pieced together their identities. Even the host dropped clues.

But there was one exception: Blue Beetle.

“A middle school student who dreams of becoming a singer. We can’t wait to see her future!”

Blue Beetle. A shy girl who transformed the moment she began to sing. All the audience could see was her hair, a pale hand clutching the mic, and the eyes behind her mask—yet every detail pulled his gaze.

“When I was little, I saw a blue beetle. I thought it was a jewel flying through the sky. Just like the sea has pearls, the earth has gems, the forest has amber—I believed the sky had its own jewel, and that was the beetle. That’s why I named myself Blue Beetle. I want to be a jewel that flies through the sky.”

And her voice was just that—like a jewel soaring across the clear blue sky.

From that day on, Tae-heon supported her dream. He had no particular reason, other than liking her songs, her story, and the way his eyes were always drawn to her.

When he watched her sing, something inside him stirred, and he liked that feeling.

For the first time in a long while, he felt passion.

He left supportive comments online under the nickname Hannam-dong Beetle, and even argued with people who insulted her. Nerdy behavior, perhaps—but rare for him. Around then, he even bought a blue sports car, unconsciously drawn to it.

But Blue Beetle fell just short—eliminated at fourth place. Still, for an unknown among professionals, it was a remarkable achievement.

The show ended. Tae-heon searched for her name now and then, but found nothing. He waited for a debut that never came, until he, too, slowly forgot—like any other viewer.

Even so, her songs stayed on his playlist.

If Blue Beetle ever returned, he knew he’d become her fan again in an instant. She had been the only rain in his arid life.

“You’ll go to college in Korea.”

Worried he might eventually cross a line too far, his parents brought him home. He had no objection—his dream was to be unemployed, after all, and he saw no need to build connections in America.

Life in Korea was easy. Boring, again. He stayed within the line, as always. He’d seen how low pleasures ruined people, so apart from clubs or drinking when friends dragged him along, his lifestyle was surprisingly healthy.

But after returning from the army, his boredom peaked. Others went wild after service, starved for romance—but Tae-heon had never lacked partners, so for him, nothing had changed.

Instead, he grew sick of the monotony.

And around then, it began.

Not dysfunction, exactly—but he stopped feeling desire for women.

“Ha. My little brother is suspected of being gay, and now I’ve got erectile dysfunction. If the adults find out, it’ll be chaos.”