CEL 55

It had been a week since Han Jaeha stopped coming to school.

Text messages brought no answer, and calls only repeated the notice that the phone was turned off.

In that state, Hamin could not take in any class. He often sat in the back, staring at the phone blankly until he went home, and at night he woke once every hour, staring at the empty screen, wondering when or if a message might come.

Seo Hamin looked down at the dead-black screen with a confused face. He had no immunity to this kind of situation.

When he had struggled, no one had ever given him strength, so he knew only how to overcome it alone. Because of that, he did not know how to comfort someone else in the same state. Someone like him would not help Han Jaeha and it made his stomach sting again.

The memory of his eyes, blank as if staring at lifeless matter, revived the fear that had once his heart drop.

He stuffed the printouts into his bag. The thin sheets crumpled without mercy, like his own tangled head. He tried to stand, but Kim Seoryeong, Koo Chaewook, and Ji Eunah approached and asked.

“Hey, Hamin-oppa. Did something happen to Jaeha?” Seo Hamin stared at Kim Seoryeong, then he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Really nothing? He hasn’t answered, he hasn’t come to class….”

“If it’s because of the assignment, I’ll handle it so it doesn’t get in the way.”

The reply made the faces of all three stiff. In the past, Seo Hamin would have read their change and changed his words, but now he had no room in his mind to notice. The answer came from Ji Eunah.

“How can you say it like that? We asked because we’re worried.”

Worried? Were Han Jaeha and they even close enough to use the word worry?

Seo Hamin found it strange. Once the semester ended, they would have no reason to contact each other again. Even if the tie stretched a little further, once they graduated they would never meet again.

Maybe that thought showed on his face, because she retorted in anger.

“Oppa, are you saying you won’t see us except for assignments? Does Han Jaeha think like that too?”

He did not know Han Jaeha’s thoughts. But Seo Hamin believed that he felt the same.

Ties bound by the name of friendship were paltry. That thought had not changed. So he judged they reacted this way only because they were still young.

Yet, contrary to his thoughts, Seo Hamin murmured.

“I can’t reach him either. If I do, I’ll tell him you worried.”

Because of his rough skin and face reflected his fatigue, the three could not insist further and only closed their mouths. Koo Chaewook pulled away, dragging Ji Eunah who was still grumbling, and Kim Seoryeong stayed for a long time before adding.

“It’s because Eunah feels hurt.”

“Yes.”

“And I… feel a little hurt too.”

Hamin stopped in the middle of slinging his bag over his shoulder. He froze in an awkward half-risen pose, then lifted his head toward Kim Seoryeong. He could see the hurt in her large, round eyes, exactly as she had spoken it.

“But this isn’t important now. I’ll say it later. You know where Jaeha lives, right?” He nodded.

“Then you should go see him.”

“He’ll want to be alone.”

“I can guarantee you, absolutely not.”

She said and left the room. Left alone in the empty classroom, Hamin sat hesitating.

Absolutely not? How could she be so sure?

He couldn’t understand the certainty in her eyes that believed he could help. She could only say that because she had never seen the expression Han Jaeha turned on him.

Hamin was afraid.

If he went and Jaeha pushed him away with that face again, it would not end with just a passing ache in his chest.

He feared that he would be of no help at all, and all the thoughts he had carried until now were only arrogance dressed up as care.

Hamin picked up his phone with hesitation. By now the eleven digits had settled into his memory, and he pressed them. The call connected, but the same recorded message said the power was off.

His finger hovered on the screen, then he pressed again. This time the dial tone cut after only ten seconds.

–Young master, you called first. What’s going on?

“Aren’t you at work?”

–You know there aren’t any customers.

“Still counts as working hours, right?”

–Well… I suppose. Hey, if you’re about to accuse me of stealing time again, just hang up.

“What if…”

He hesitated, and pressed his finger to his aching forehead. Even as the words left his mouth, he wondered what he was doing.

“If I say I’m sick…”

–What? You’re sick? Where hurts? Are you at the hospital?

“No, I mean, if I said I was.”

–Where are you? I’ll come right now. Boss, I’m taking a day off!

“I’m not sick. Listen to the end.”

He heard the rustle of things being packed and voices raised in a flurry on the other end. Hamin frowned, he was already regretting the words, when a crash sounded and Kim Hyunwoo’s voice returned.

–Wait, I didn’t catch that. Where are you? I’ve already got everything ready.

“I said I’m not sick. I only wanted to know if you’d come if I was.”

–…Are you serious?

“Yes.”

–You idiot.

A string of curses came pouring through the line. Hamin listened in silence, idly working his fingers, and thought “So he really would have come.”

“Why would you?”

–What kind of question is that? So if you were ill, I shouldn’t come?

“You’re not a doctor. There’s nothing you could do.”

He heard a weary sigh, then the sound of scratching hair, the thud of someone collapsing into a seat, the low groan of frustration. Finally, a serious voice spoke.

–You told me once, remember? That it was good for Minjae, having me play the parent.

“…Yeah.”

–Then does that mean it was all for nothing?

“Minjae was just a kid.”

–And you’re just a kid too. Even adults need parents. Even if they’re not real ones, you need one or two people willing to stay when it’s hard.

“What if I say I don’t need anyone?”

–Come on, haven’t I known you long enough? If it’s pride, I can take it. If it’s pain, then tell me quick so I can put my clothes back on.

The line filled with the crinkle of fabric, as if he really had started dressing again. That noisy bustle made Hamin feel the turbulence inside him calm down.

The call had been pointless. A “what if” that had no logic and no chance of happening.

Yet the fact that if he were sick, Hyunwoo would come right away and the stubborn insistence that he would come even if told not to made him feel ordinary.

It was a feeling he experienced for the first time in his life.

He finally felt that his mind was in order, and he whispered quietly.

“Thank you.”

He hung up and he rushed out of the lecture hall almost running. He thought only that he needed to see Han Jaeha immediately.

He ran all the way to Han Jaeha’s house while gasping for breath. He hurriedly pressed the code and entered.

He expected that Jaeha would be home, but the house was empty. There was not even a trace of warmth from someone living there. He checked the dried sink and the bathroom, and he caught a taxi without hesitation.

“Where to?”

“Eunpyeong District….”

He stammered while giving the location of the studio, and he became overwhelmed by anxiety. What if Jaeha was not there either?

Jaeha had always been either at home, or at the studio, or otherwise at Hamin’s own place, so he did not know any other places Jaeha might go. He tried to recall restaurants or cafes Jaeha visited often, but nothing came to mind.

Jaeha had always said they should just go to places where he ate well.

It had already been half a year since they met, yet there were still many things about Jaeha he did not know. That fact came to him anew. He anxiously bit the side of his nail and he hastily tapped his card and got out of the taxi.

He pressed the doorbell. No answer. He had no patience left, so he immediately entered the code and went inside. Fortunately, a pair of familiar shoes sat at the doorway.

His strength drained, and he let out a low sigh. He heard the scratch of a pencil beyond the tightly closed inner door.

“Han Jaeha….”

Seo Hamin removed his shoes and stepped inside, and his body stiffened. The studio had never been tidy, yet this time it was in such disorder that it could not be dismissed with that word.

He looked at the drawings tossed onto the floor and he stared at the man sitting among them. His eyes that always glimmered with vividness when they met him had turned dull and unfocused, they were only wandering over the surface of the canvas.

Even as he approached, Jaeha continued moving his hand and muttering endlessly. The sound was too faint to catch, so Hamin gave up listening and called him cautiously.

“Han Jaeha.”

“…….”

“Jaeha-ya.”

Still no reply. Instead, the hand that drew moved faster, and his gaze wavered in agitation. Hamin placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Jae….”

His hand was flung away with a slap. Startled by the force that hurt, his eyes widened, and Jaeha, pale as paper, trembled and whispered.

“I will draw better.”

“…….”

“I will do everything you want, so please just leave….”

Jaeha panted as he dropped the pencil and seized a brush. He dipped it roughly in water and reached toward the paint, and he choked and his breathing grew ragged.

The colors spread on the palette swallowed him in a blur. They rose like haze, tightened around his throat, and blocked his breath.

Just the sight of the colors lined up made him feel nauseated, so there was no way he could hold the brush. He collapsed to the floor. His stomach contents forced their way up.

Even as he toppled from his sitting posture, he kept vomiting. He didn’t eat anything, so only yellow gastric acid came out, but he felt he could not endure it if he did not expel even that.

Only after emptying everything did he murmur blankly.

“I will not draw. I want to stop.”

“Han Jaeha.”

“I can’t do it. I… don’t want to.”

“Look at me.”

Hamin ignored the mess covering the floor and moved to Jaeha. He touched his back with care, and the large muscles twitched and contracted. His shoulders narrowed tightly.

“Don’t. You don’t have to.”

Jaeha clenched his teeth until his lips bled, but he kept murmuring incomprehensible words as if he could not hear Hamin.

Hamin watched him and regretted too late. It was not that he believed Jaeha’s words about going home. He believed his words about needing time, and he should not have left him alone like that.

Hamin silently patted his back. Just as Jaeha had done when he was sick, he repeated the action for minutes though it had no medical effect.

After a long time, Jaeha’s shoulders shook, and he slowly lifted his head. With unfocused eyes he stared ahead and muttered vacantly.

“…Sunbae?”

It was not that he truly recognized him, but only that he wished the one beside him was Seo Hamin.

It was close to a wail.

“Sunbae… Hamin sunbae. Please… stop. I want to stop this….”

As Jaeha kept stammering, someone suddenly reached out a hand toward him. He snatched the brush from his grip, and he pulled his head into his arms so that nothing remained visible.

Warmth touched his cheek. The moment that person took the world away, relief spread through his whole body, and all his strength drained.

“It is all right.”

A flat voice marked the end. It was a familiar voice.

He nodded vacantly.

“It will be all right.”

He thought that this person’s words could not be wrong. He wanted to believe that it surely would be so.