IOB Ch 18

“Ugh!”

The hand gripping the toilet bowl trembled. Incessant dry heaving made my nose sting, and tears welled up involuntarily. It felt like stomach acid was scorching my esophagus. Since I hadn’t eaten, there was naturally nothing to throw up. After a long bout of pointless retching, I stood up exhausted, clutching the sink.

“Ah, shit…”

My reflection in the mirror looked utterly pathetic. Dark circles stained the skin under my eyes, and despite the humid early summer weather, my skin appeared parched.

How many days had it been since I last went home? Four days holed up in a hotel suite, yanking at my hair. Yesterday, I was suddenly summoned to the family estate because of news that President Choi’s health had taken a turn.

They said his liver cancer treatment was progressing smoothly. Turns out, it was all a staged act to manage public opinion. They feared the stock prices would plummet if word got out that the group’s leader was ill. Even I, his real family, was fooled. I was the only one left in the dark.

They removed a tumor just under 3cm and treated it to prevent further growth, but another tumor appeared, and now there was the possibility of additional metastasis. They were trying to prevent further spread while considering a liver transplant. Surely, the best medical team was attending to him. The problem was that President Choi, that old man, kept twisting his own fate.

The reason the cancer wasn’t easily controlled was because the gods were angry. That’s the kind of nonsense he spouted, and a few days ago, he held a shamanic ritual to ward off bad luck. Typical of a nominally Christian family.

The fortune-teller they used to consult apparently lost her divine power, so they called in a supposedly gifted shaman who was clearly a fraud. During the ritual, President Choi inhaled something with the shaman and collapsed. Snake wine or something like that…

He was ranting that this was further proof of the gods’ anger. I’m seriously starting to suspect dementia. It’s normal for an old man undergoing cancer treatment to collapse after jumping around on an empty stomach during a ritual and drinking potent liquor. This is the end result of an arrogant, foolish old man who lived relying solely on his stamina.

Hyung decided to send President Choi to a countryside villa for recovery, with a personal doctor to monitor him more strictly. Of course, it was something hyung handled unilaterally while the old man was delirious.

With the old man self-destructing, hyung was thrilled, but my stepmother was in an uproar. Listening to them argue for three hours yesterday still left my ears ringing.

“We should take care of him here. Jaeyoung, this isn’t right.”

“Didn’t things go wrong because you were in charge, Ms. Yeo? Wasn’t that shaman someone you brought in? You no longer have a say in this matter.”

“Don’t you know your father’s stubbornness? No matter how sick he is, he’s still strong as an ox. Do you think we could’ve stopped him? If this is how it’s going to be, we might as well take him to a hospital.”

“There are too many eyes watching. It hasn’t been long since we told the shareholders he’s recovering. I don’t want to do anything to undermine trust. Besides, Father would be more comfortable at the villa, ordering people around as he pleases. And he hates hospitals.”

“It’s obvious you’re planting your people there. I know you’re trying to keep tabs on the chairman.”

“Yes, I need to monitor him. What era is this? It’s embarrassing that he’s still caught up in superstitions. His judgment’s slipping with age. Isn’t it my duty as the eldest son to look after him? If you’re so worried, Ms. Yeo, go stay with him at the villa. You like places with fresh air, don’t you?”

“Ms. Yeo, Ms. Yeo! How is it that in over ten years, you’ve never once called me Mom?”

“Because you’re not my mother.”

“Choi Jaeyoung!”

“Why should I call a woman who’s not my mother ‘Mom’? You’re barely older than me.”

Things had been quiet lately, or so I thought. It was the day the family’s ever-present ticking time bomb exploded. Choi Dowon, terrified of hyung, couldn’t even take his mother’s side and just watched cautiously. Choi Geonyeong was nowhere to be seen.

“Do I still seem like just your father’s mistress? You’re treating me like this because that’s how you see me, aren’t you? No matter what you say, I’m Choi Byunggwan’s wife now. I’ve been for over ten years.”

“Calling you Ms. Yeo is the most courtesy I can muster. Accept it quietly when I’m being polite. If you don’t want to hear that you came from being a mistress, maintain some dignity.”

“What makes you so high and mighty that you look down on people? Everyone knows your wife is in therapy because of you. I’m so ashamed I can’t hold my head up. They all say the eldest son of Jaeyoo Group is a lunatic, and his poor wife…”

“Leave my wife out of this.”

“It’s chilling. Yisak is better. At least he calls me Mom, even if he’s an eyesore and a moron.”

“He calls you Mom because he’s a moron.”

Then, as always, the arrows turned to me. I was quietly munching on an apple when, shit.

“Seems like he’s got the stomach to call the woman who killed his mother ‘Mom’ too.”

Hyung, who’d been bickering with Stepmother, finally glanced at me. Yeah, call me a stupid, spineless bastard. Whatever. I’m used to it, so I could handle it up to this point.

But this morning, when hyung told me to visit President Choi at the recovery villa, I snapped. “Go check on Father,” he said, his blunt voice shameless.

Do I really have to side with this jerk? If I had to pick who’s worse between President Choi and hyung, it’s the former, but honestly, I wish they’d both just drop dead.

But with Woo Seonrim as my weakness, I couldn’t openly defy hyung. I was also slightly curious about what state the collapsed President Choi was in.

So, I came to the villa. President Choi was lying there, frail and surrounded by machines. His once-mighty body had shriveled, and his face was ashen.

“Our youngest is here.”

His eyes, lighting up at the sight of me, felt unfamiliar. The fists that were always ready to strike me were now wrinkled, and his voice was thin. The man who thought strength and bravado could do anything was left with nothing once his strength faded.

Honestly, if I wanted to, I could strangle President Choi right there. Everyone had stepped out briefly because I’d arrived.

President Choi showed no wariness toward me. He looked at me… like a beloved child.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“…”

“Dowon’s been busy lately, I hear.”

“…”

“Come closer.”

What was I thinking as I quietly approached President Choi? Right, disgust.

He acted like he’d forgotten everything he’d done to me. That face, wanting me to care for him. Just because he had a tumor, did his personality change too? Even his voice softened.

So, he could sound like that. But why did he treat me like that? Why did he treat my mother like that? Even if I was a rotten kid, Mom was obedient to him. She was so careful, always treading lightly.

I don’t clearly remember what else we talked about.

And now, I’m in the villa’s bathroom, clutching my empty stomach, dry heaving, and splashing cold water on my face.

“Ha.”

I was depressed. So depressed I wanted to die. Maybe I should’ve strangled him and left. Gone to prison and lived isolated from society.

No, you don’t even have the guts for that. Coward. I whisper to myself.

Staggering, I sat on the sink and, for the first time in hours, pulled out my phone. I was going to check the home CCTV to peek at Woo Seonrim. Just then, there was a text from him.

[Woo Seonrim: Come see me.]

I’m a coward, alright. Too scared to face Woo Seonrim properly, I’ve been avoiding my emotions by staying at the hotel. For the first two days, Woo Seonrim waited quietly, but by the third, he started bombarding me with texts and calls. I dodged them all, claiming I was busy.

Since hearing Woo Seonrim’s story, I’ve been at a loss. It’s not because the story was horrifying or because he’s a burden. It’s because it stirred something buried inside me.

The feeling of watching violence unfold right in front of you, powerless to stop it. The position of a helpless bystander. Eventually, you get used to that bystander role.

When I was a kid, if I messed up, Mom took the beatings from President Choi for me. I had to watch, frozen. Those moments were always horrific.

“I think it’d be easier on my heart if I bore my own sins.”

Woo Seonrim spoke calmly, almost like a psychopath who doesn’t feel emotions, but I noticed his palms were sweaty. I wish I hadn’t.

“Abuse? You could see it that way. Is that what it is?”

I saw his eyes go hollow.

Like recognizes like. People grow closer in shared pain more than shared joy. We bond pathetically, licking each other’s wounds.

“I’m fine. I was always a bit of a weird kid.”

As soon as the timer he’d set went off, Woo Seonrim came to me and pressed his lips to mine. A gentle touch, then parting. Eyes smiling like he was truly happy.

Woo Seonrim lived in a more closed-off community than I did. He couldn’t escape like I could; compliance and assimilation were his only survival methods.

In that moment, Woo Seonrim felt like someone I could connect with. I could read him. I could read the language of scars etched all over his body. We’re too alike. But Woo Seonrim’s life was far worse than mine, and while that gave me a twisted sense of comfort, I also pitied him.

Can pity be part of love’s starting point? Can some loves be forged from compassion?

If that can be called love, then maybe, just maybe, I love Woo Seonrim.

I felt the confusion flooding in. That’s why I’ve been avoiding him. I was waiting for my heart to settle, but it was no use.

“Ah…”

Frustrated, I pounded the sink with my fists. The back of my hand turned red, and the skin broke. Taking it out on the poor sink, harming myself. I’ve aged for nothing.

Then my phone vibrated. Another message from Woo Seonrim? I’m out of excuses, and I should probably head back… My breath caught. With a heavy heart, I picked up the phone, but it wasn’t him. It was a call from one of the people I’d assigned to watch Woo Seonrim.

“What’s wrong?”

— Uh, Director. We… lost Woo Seonrim.

“What?”

— He noticed we were tailing him and shook us off…

“How is that even possible?”

Panting, I stepped out of the bathroom. Apparently, Woo Seonrim rode a bike into an alley cars couldn’t enter, pulling off some stunt-like riding. The man’s conclusion: they lost track of him.

Shit. I admit I was acting like a jerk, but couldn’t he just stay put at home for a few more days? Where does he even think he’s going?

“Put more people on it and find him.”

I hung up, irritated, and opened the location-tracking app I’d installed on Woo Seonrim’s phone long ago. You never know how things might turn out. I skipped past the “Our Child Safety” slogan, and the screen lit up.

“What the hell, this bastard.”

Woo Seonrim’s location showed he was at home. He’d ditched his phone and run. My head throbbed. My stomach was already burning from heaving acid on an empty stomach.

I got in the car and headed straight for Seoul. After a few sips of the sports drink Driver Kim handed me, I mentally listed places Woo Seonrim might go.

Nothing came to mind. He’d only been staying at my place. The basement room he used to live in was long gone, disposed of by me. In the tiny patch of South Korea, Woo Seonrim’s world was a fraction of it.

I was unconsciously chewing my nails. Anxiety kept surging up. I wanted to ruin my neatly manicured fingertips.

He wouldn’t have gone back to that cult or whatever, right?

No. He said everyone who knew him there was dead. Definitely dead… Probably tied to that fire incident in New Zealand. What are the odds their remnants are in Korea?

Would Woo Seonrim be crazy enough to go back to them? Why? I’m here. Sure, I left him alone for a few days, but would he be lonely enough to crawl back to that nest? All sorts of thoughts raced through my mind.

“Shit.”

I felt Driver Kim flinch in the driver’s seat. My brain felt like it was melting. My heart pounded like it would burst through my chest. It ached and stung. I wanted to vomit my empty stomach again when my phone rang.

An unknown number starting with 02. If it was spam, I swore I’d kill whoever it was. I answered.

— Wow, it actually connected. That’s wild.

A familiar voice came from the other side.

“…Woo Seonrim?”

I was momentarily stunned by the tone, almost cheerful.

— It looked so old, I thought it might be broken, but luckily this payphone still works.

“What are you doing?”

— I haven’t used a payphone in ages. You too, right, Director? Not many people use them anymore.

“What are you doing? Where are you?”

— I was feeling stifled, so I stepped out for a bit. Seoul’s nice. You can even rent bikes on the street.

“Answer the question, damn it.”

— Why are you so mad?

“Wouldn’t I be? Why’d you ditch your phone?”

— So you’d look for me a bit harder, Director.

“Are you a teenager? Running away to make a point?”

— Is this called running away? Then you’re a runaway too, Director. How many days has it been since you went home?

“I was going back today, so just get your ass home.”

— No way.

“Hey, you little—”

— Come to where I am, Director.

“This guy, ordering me around… Ugh, you’re doing whatever you want. Where are you?”

—- I rode my bike too far. I don’t even know where this is or how to get back. I’m tired too.

“…”

— You need to come get me. Don’t you miss me?

“Stop talking nonsense and hang up. You’re pissing me off.”

— I’ll wait here. I believe you’ll come…

Click! I hung up first and tossed the phone onto the seat. My whole body relaxed as the tension drained, but I felt a surge of heat. I was at a loss about where to find Woo Seonrim, and here he was, shamelessly contacting me first. Telling me to come get him, no less. Does he think I’m some idle guy who just chases after him?

He must’ve been really annoyed that I was avoiding him. Even this way of getting under my skin is so Woo Seonrim. It’s infuriating, but the aching in my chest from earlier calmed down. At least it wasn’t the worst-case scenario I’d feared. If he’d disappeared for good or been snatched by some weirdos, it would’ve been a headache.

“Uh, Director.”

Driver Kim glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

“Should we change the destination? Did you find Woo Seonrim?”

“Oh.”

I frowned and sighed. Telling me to come find him without even knowing where he is. The number started with 02, so he’s definitely in Seoul.

“How many payphones are there in Seoul?”

“Pardon?”

“I think we need to put more people on this. Can’t exactly ask the police to track him.”

“Uh, well, these days, you can just search the number online, and the payphone’s location pops up, Director.”

Haha. Driver Kim let out an awkward laugh.

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

“…The world’s gotten convenient.”

It was an absurdly simple solution. At this point, all my tension melted away, and it felt like I was playing some childish game. I mean, how would I know about payphones when I haven’t used one in forever? I got him a perfectly good new phone, and this is the nonsense he pulls.

I picked up the phone I’d tossed aside. I wasn’t dying to see Woo Seonrim, but he’s lost, so I can’t just leave him like a stray kid.

“Reset the GPS. Let’s go where Woo Seonrim is.”

The humidity was rising in early summer. A payphone booth with peeling paint stood out oddly near the riverside. The man leaning against it, standing still, looked surreal. As the sun began to set, Woo Seonrim faced the sunset with a pale complexion.

It was as if time had stopped around him. It wouldn’t be strange if a decade’s worth of time was trapped in there. Stagnation, disconnection, isolation, alienation—those words suited him.

I left Driver Kim and got out of the car. As soon as I stepped toward the booth, Woo Seonrim turned his gaze to me, as if he’d been waiting. He probably knew it was me from the sound of the car.

In just a few days, Woo Seonrim looked thinner. His complexion wasn’t great either. The one thing I liked was that he was dressed head to toe in things I’d bought him.

He waited silently until I reached him, his eyes fixed on me. He didn’t even come forward to greet me, just stood there without blinking.

His complete lack of regard for his superiors annoyed me, but since I was slightly at fault this time, I decided to let it slide. I guess it’d be bewildering if your partner ghosted you after intense oral sex.

I stopped in front of Woo Seonrim and stood tall. Only then did he slowly open his mouth.

“Director, have you ever eaten ramen by the Han River?”

“You’re really something else. The first thing you say is about ramen?”

“I hear Han River ramen is good.”

“Eating that instant stuff is bad for you. I’ll drive you home, so let’s go.”

Ramen, really? I can’t even remember the last time I bought ramen at a convenience store. I was about to snap when my empty stomach growled.

“…”

“Let’s go eat.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying…”

Woo Seonrim let out a faint laugh, like air escaping.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just happy to see you, Director.”

“Weren’t you mad enough to run away?”

He gave a subtle expression and grabbed the bike parked nearby. As always, he dodged the point and started rambling.

“Want some triangle kimbap too?”

“Shut up and lead the way.”

“Okay.”

With a rattle, Woo Seonrim pulled the bike and walked leisurely. I followed two steps behind, staring at his back. A wave of unease stirred in my chest. He must have a lot he wants to ask me, but his back looked infuriatingly calm.

After about ten minutes, we reached a path leading to the Han River Park. The sky was quickly turning a deep indigo. A weekend evening, before the full heat of summer, with a cool breeze by the river—a perfect time and place for people to gather.

Half were exercising, half were out for fun. Most wore casual clothes. I stood out in my suit, having come from visiting President Choi. Good thing I left my jacket in the car. I rolled up my sleeves a couple of times.

Woo Seonrim stopped near a convenience store and turned to look at me.

“Sit and wait here.”

“Here?”

The plastic chair and table looked blatantly worn out, paired with a tacky blue-striped parasol. The cleanliness of the place was questionable in every way. While I hesitated, feeling uneasy, Woo Seonrim breezed past me without a second thought.

“Huh.”

I glared at Woo Seonrim, who was already slipping away, then sat down on the plastic chair with a resigned thud. A stain of ramen broth on the table caught my eye, and I quickly shifted my gaze to the sky.

Isn’t this kind of cheap romanticism something you indulge in at twenty? Not that I ever did, even at that age. Anyway, I told him we should just go home, so why did he drag me here…

Woo Seonrim returned his bike in the distance and jogged over, ducking into the convenience store. As always, his expression seemed gloomier than most, but his steps were remarkably light. For Woo Seonrim, that was practically bubbling with excitement.

What’s got him so happy? I don’t get it. I didn’t understand, but I decided to go along with his rhythm, at least roughly. I sat awkwardly on the edge of the chair, then relaxed, leaning back against it. I crossed my legs and idly tapped my foot.

“The weather’s nice.”

The sun was setting fast, and the surroundings grew dark. The heat that had been simmering in my head all day seemed to cool a bit. Moments later, Woo Seonrim returned, his hands full of various items.

“What’s with all this?”

The plastic bag hanging from his arm was stuffed with convenience store food. Steam rose from a foil container of freshly cooked ramen. With a scrape, Woo Seonrim pulled a chair closer to me and sat down, saying,

“You seemed hungry.”

“I don’t like instant food.”

“I bought it, so just eat.”

With a snap, Woo Seonrim split a pair of wooden chopsticks and handed them to me. What am I even doing here with him? But I couldn’t fight the hunger. Surrendering to my appetite, I grabbed the chopsticks and picked up a few strands of ramen. My appetite, which had been rock-bottom for days, suddenly surged.

While I took a bite of the noodles, Woo Seonrim just watched me quietly from the side. His blatant stare felt heavy, so I glanced at him.

“…What are you doing? Eat, Mr. Seonrim.”

“Is it good?”

“Salty.”

“Then eat it with the kimbap. I warmed these up too.”

Woo Seonrim rummaged through the bag and shoved three triangle kimbaps toward me.

“Suddenly acting all nice. What’s with you?”

I shot him a sideways glare while slurping the ramen. The flavor was intense for an empty stomach, but I couldn’t stop my chopsticks. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.

Woo Seonrim finally took a bite himself and said,

“Director, aren’t you curious about me anymore?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was wondering. Maybe you’ve cooled off toward me. You left me behind.”

“…I said I was busy.”

“You abandoned me.”

He’s definitely pissed. Every syllable Woo Seonrim uttered slowly was loaded with force.

“But when I called, you came running to pick me up. I don’t get you, Director.”

“I don’t get you either.”

“And when I tried to let you in, you ran away.”

I was at a loss for words, and Woo Seonrim pressed his lips into a tight line. Silence hung over the table for a moment. Unsure how to steer the conversation, I decided to focus on eating.

Truth is, I’m a pretty selfish person. I ran away because I couldn’t handle the old memories Woo Seonrim stirred up. My own feelings mattered more than his emptiness or anxiety. Is that so wrong?

To survive, I put everything else aside and pour all my energy into protecting myself. Is that a bad thing? I don’t think so. I didn’t have the luxury to care about others or peer into their pain. Just keeping myself together was hard enough.

But watching Woo Seonrim nibble his food with his head slightly bowed, guilt crept up. I shouldn’t have left him alone. This sense of responsibility pricked my conscience.

I should’ve stopped at just admiring Woo Seonrim’s music. I shouldn’t have felt affection for him. I shouldn’t have been curious or pitied him…

A rustle came from beside me as Woo Seonrim tore open a triangle kimbap wrapper. After a long silence, he threw out a random topic, as always.

“It’s been a while since I saw a river.”

Taking a deep breath, I caught the faint smell of water. Woo Seonrim kept his head down, eyes fixed on the table, and said,

“Director, want to ride a couple’s bike?”

“Two guys riding together would look weird.”

“You’re so uptight.”

Woo Seonrim went quiet again. Then he started eating the kimbap so slowly, it was like he was counting each grain of rice. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. My heart beat strangely. The park’s streetlights flickered on one by one, casting shadows on Woo Seonrim’s profile.

A strange guy, eating a single kimbap for ages with an utterly blank expression. An incomprehensible human. An alien. A lunatic. I mulled over words that fit Woo Seonrim. Otherwise, I kept feeling like I could read his inner thoughts.

I could sense his heart, tossing out trivial questions to keep the conversation going with me. In this moment, Woo Seonrim felt human. Terribly soft and fragile.

While observing him, words slipped out thoughtlessly.

“Sorry for avoiding you.”

It was completely unconscious. I was so startled by myself that my face heated up. Apologizing to someone felt so rare it was disorienting and awkward. Why was I apologizing to Woo Seonrim? I wanted to slap my own mouth. Might as well advertise that I feel sorry and heartbroken for him.

Woo Seonrim, who’d kept his head down, slowly looked at me. Our eyes met directly. His long eyelashes quivered in the breeze passing by the river. Moisture clung to the corners of his eyes.

In a hoarse voice, he said,

“…You’re right. You messed up. What would I do if you let me go?”

“…”

“Don’t do that.”

“…”

“I’m saying don’t abandon me. No matter how repulsive I am.”

His breathing quickened slightly as he spoke longer.

“I know I’m weird. I’m not exactly a fun or cheerful person. To you, Director, who likes women, my body might be disgusting. My past probably feels sordid too. I know all that.”

Suddenly, Woo Seonrim grabbed my wrist. His skin was cold and clammy.

“But you still have to stay with me.”

“…”

“I’m begging you.”

“…For a plea, your attitude’s not very polite.”

“I don’t know how to do it right.”

“What if I reject your plea?”

His grip tightened, and my wrist started to ache. Woo Seonrim’s face was on the verge of tears.

“I don’t even want to imagine that.”

“You gonna tie me up or something?”

“You like me too, Director. That’s why you came here. Why say things like that?”

He spilled the words in one breath, his chest heaving. He’s so clumsy. Already prone to getting lost in his own world, and having lived trapped in a closed community, Woo Seonrim doesn’t seem to know how to get what he wants normally.

If we were both normal, things might’ve been easier. By now, we’d have exchanged couple rings and kissed by the river… But unhealthy people can’t have healthy relationships.

Woo Seonrim’s a nutcase, so this is his limit. Throwing tantrums, crying, and floundering to demand love. Trying to bind me with deals and make me submit.

“I love you, Director, so why do you say things like that…”

A tear finally fell from Woo Seonrim’s eye, landing on the back of my hand. Ripples stirred in my heart, and my chest ached. I felt an urge to wipe his eyes. Damn it, what are two broken people doing here? Swallowing dryly, I opened my mouth heavily.

“I see myself in you. I hate that.”

“…Were you ever locked up by a cult, Director?”

“Not that.”

His bewildered face was so absurd I almost burst out laughing.

“After going through that kind of thing, you still want to live close to people?”

“With you, I do.”

“Why do you like me so much?”

“But you like me too, don’t you?”

“Damn, this is messing with my head…”

Feeling stifled, I shot up from my seat. The plastic chair screeched as it slid back. Woo Seonrim looked up at me with wet eyes.

“If you’re done eating, get up.”

“You didn’t give me a single proper answer.”

His gaze was filled with resentment and reproach. I scratched my burning nape and sighed deeply.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“…”

“Whether I like you, or if it’s okay to. Whether I can handle those feelings. I don’t know, so what am I supposed to do?”

“You can’t avoid me just because of that.”

“Yeah, fine, I’ve got a bit of an avoidant streak. Happy?”

Not just a bit—a lot, actually. That’s been my survival method. If Woo Seonrim flattened and dried out everything he went through, I always hid where the problems couldn’t be seen.

But I can’t use that method with Woo Seonrim. He’ll drag me out in front of him, like he did today. Like a migratory bird following the flock, I’ll keep returning to my only kindred spirit, Woo Seonrim.

I already know I’m deeply entangled with him. That love born from pity and empathy is slowly taking over me. I’m just scared. Won’t two crazies clinging to each other just end up devouring one another?

From the examples around me, love always had a negative impact on people. I’ve never seen it bring any benefit. Our end will likely be the same. Broken things colliding will only crumble faster. Every time I see Woo Seonrim, painful memories resurface, and the wounds will stay raw forever. Every memory of death I carry will repeat endlessly.

So I’d rather live without love. Just maintain the status quo. I’ve patched myself up enough to look like a functioning human on the outside. Life is exhausting.

“Seon, you have to live a long time, okay? Become a rich, cool person. That’s why Mom held on, to see you like that.”

If it weren’t for Mom’s plea, I wouldn’t have clung to life so desperately. Because she endured, I endure. That’s the mindset I’ve lived with for thirty years. So how did I end up with Woo Seonrim, making my life two or three times more exhausting?

Woo Seonrim stood up from the chair and looked down at me quietly. A low voice followed.

“You don’t hate me, do you?”

“Well…”

“Don’t dodge it. Just say yes.”

“…Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s enough.”

Woo Seonrim, his face now dry of tears, stepped closer to me. His wavering dark eyes steadied.

“You’ll end up handling me, Director. I felt it today. We’re fate.”

He declared it like a prophet seeing the future. His words clogged my throat, yet brought a strange sense of calm. Woo Seonrim moved even closer, our arms brushing.

“I’m full. Let’s walk and head back.”

His scent hit me, and my body tensed reflexively. It was familiar—one of the perfumes I often use.

“You used my perfume?”

“Yeah. I even jerked off with it. Felt like you were there, and it was pretty nice.”

The conversation veered into dangerous territory. I quickly lowered my voice.

“Shut up…”

“But really, you were at a hotel the whole time?”

“Where else would I go?”

“How’d you deal with your urges? By day three without you, mine were piling up.”

“For God’s sake, shut up.”

For a moment, I regretted pitying him. But since it was true my urges had built up, heat subtly pooled in my groin. I hurriedly shoved Woo Seonrim’s shoulder with my palm.

“It’s hot, so back off. Don’t we need to clean up the food?”

“You’re ambiguously kind, Director.”

“You gotta act proper in public. These days, one wrong move and you’re plastered online. Shut up and clean.”

“Okay.”

As Woo Seonrim tried to cling again, I lightly kicked his shin. Only then did he start picking up the trash with me, even sorting it diligently.

Suddenly, cleaning up cheap instant food remnants with Woo Seonrim in Han River Park felt absurd. At this rate, we’d actually go for a walk. What’s with this tranquility?

We hadn’t seen each other for nearly a week, yet there was no awkwardness. Woo Seonrim didn’t cry dramatically or act gravely. Judging by his tears, he must’ve suffered emotionally, but our conversation flowed quietly and ended without resolution. Typical Woo Seonrim, deflating people effortlessly.

Even my hot temper calms in this emptiness, and it feels comforting. Is that why I like him? The thought crossed my mind a beat late, startling me.

I admitted I like him… damn it. No, it’s not set in stone until I say it out loud. Probably.

Have I ever leisurely strolled with someone? Just exchanging trivial chatter, not business talk. While walking along the river, I sifted through memories, and laughably, today was the first time. Thirty years old, and I’ve never walked with someone? I can’t believe myself.

“Director.”

And my first walking buddy is this guy.

I must’ve told him to back off dozens of times, but Woo Seonrim still stuck close, our arms brushing occasionally, hands grazing.

“You haven’t called me Mr. Seonrim much lately, have you?”

“Have I? Guess I got tired of honorifics.”

“Proof I’ve gotten comfortable with you.”

“Think what you want.”

“Should I call you hyung?”

I furrowed my brow and glared at him.

“Gross. Don’t make my skin crawl with that hyung nonsense.”

“Calling you Director after everything we’ve done feels a bit cold.”

“Talking about feelings now?”

“Well, I’m fine with it. I actually like calling you Director.”

We traded meaningless banter, fell into natural silence, then picked up another trivial topic. Repeating this, we walked for dozens of minutes. Feeling warm, I rolled up my shirt sleeves once more.

After a long quiet stretch, Woo Seonrim spoke again.

“There are a lot of dogs.”

“Yeah.”

“Should we get one?”

“What dog? I can barely handle you.”

“You think you’re raising me? And you left the house for a week…”

“How long are you gonna milk that? I said I’m sorry.”

“Anyway, a dog. I think it’d be nice.”

He didn’t seem like the type to care about animals, so it was surprising. His eyes darted around, earnestly scanning the dogs with a serious expression.

“Cats are nice too.”

“Pets are a hassle. Too much to worry about.”

The image of a small animal’s corpse I once cherished flashed through my mind. Protecting humans is hard enough; animals are too fragile. And they die quickly.

“I’m absolutely against it.”

I spoke firmly, and Woo Seonrim nodded slowly. That subtle sulky expression won’t work on me. Does he think I’ll cave?

In the sinking silence, we kept walking slowly. Then, a piano sound came from the distance. I thought I was hearing things, but Woo Seonrim and I turned at the same time, our eyes meeting.

“That’s a real piano, right?”

“Yeah.”

Without another word, we moved toward the sound as if it was the most natural thing. Soon, we found the source.

Some kind of public event was happening, with an upright piano placed by the walkway. A street piano anyone could play. The sound wasn’t great, but it was perfectly tuned.

The person playing was a middle-school-aged girl. A familiar New Age melody filled the air. About five people stood around the piano, and passersby occasionally stopped. We naturally joined the small audience.

The girl’s playing was rough. She wasn’t a music major, probably just a kid who’d played as a hobby for a long time. Despite frequent mistakes, she looked joyful, unfazed. Being able to love something freely is such a blessing. I’m jealous.

I remembered first seeing Woo Seonrim at a competition at that age. The slender, pale genius boy grew into the man standing beside me. Thinking about the time Woo Seonrim spent in between made the ramen I ate earlier threaten to come up, so I stopped.

I should think productive thoughts. Useful ones… Then something hit me, and I nudged Woo Seonrim with my elbow, whispering,

“When she’s done, you go play.”

“Should I?”

“Something flashy, fast. Something well-known, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Like La Campanella or Fantaisie-Impromptu… what else is there? You can do it, right?”

“I can, but does it have to be those?”

“Yeah, to draw a crowd. You gotta pull aggro in this day and age.”

“Aggro?”