MY 2

But whether it was a misfortune or a blessing, Won Wooje’s mother met a new lover when he was in the sixth grade of elementary school. They said the man who drove a Porsche had even more money than his father. It was a blessing in disguise.

Before long, they moved back to River Castle in Unil-dong, a wealthy residential complex. However, to the adolescent Won Wooje, this was not at all pleasing. The strange man was a problem, but it was also because of the man’s son, who was two years younger than him. The house felt like a bed of thorns. He had no desire to be there at all.

It was during his first year of middle school. A commotion broke out because that little brat snitched on a single cigarette he had hidden away.

He threw a punch right at the kid’s mouth and ran away from home just like that. He vanished for a week and didn’t return, but all he got from that godforsaken household were a few phone calls.

It was absurd. He couldn’t even understand why they had given birth to him if they were going to raise him like this. He was practically an outcast.

Fuming with rage, Won Wooje huffed and puffed. Overwhelmed by surging emotions, he stopped eating his ramen at the internet cafe and threw his wooden chopsticks. Then he called his father.

“Dad, I ran away from home.”

—What?

“Buy me a house.”

His father, who was on a business trip, rushed back after finishing his work. He then provided a small one-room studio for his son at the edge of Unil-dong. Perhaps because she wasn’t worried about her healthy, able-bodied son, his mother didn’t really try to stop him either. He was a bit annoyed, but he didn’t mind because he was excited about the idea of independence.

Left alone, Won Wooje felt a sense of complete liberation. The house was crummy, but in terms of quality of life, this place was much better than there. He was confident he could manage well enough on his own.

However, because he lived a bit too “well enough” on his own, problems arose. With no one to wake him up, being late was a given, and he spent all his time playing around, thinking, “What’s studying?” or “What’s homework?” And exactly on the tenth day, he had a massive fight with Han Seolwoo.

Han Seolwoo made a fuss, saying Won Wooje wasn’t fulfilling his duties as a student. Won Wooje snapped back, asking, “Are you my fucking mother?” and was left alone in the spot where Han Seolwoo had coldly walked away.

Lying spread-eagled and staring blankly at the ceiling, Won Wooje suddenly furrowed his brows.

Come to think of it, nothing the other had said was wrong. Han Seolwoo’s nagging—that if he kept eating nothing but cup ramen he’d only grow sideways, and that he’d never get into college and would be stuck in this place forever—was all true.

Lying there still, he looked at the empty cup ramen container rolling around next to his blanket. Seeing it left as a mere hollow shell, he felt an inexplicable sense of kinship with it.

Suddenly, the old villa, which was embarrassing to even call a home, felt shameful. The one-room studio that had been his cozy personal space now felt like a small, dingy room that he hated.

Waking up abruptly at three in the morning, Won Wooje went to River Castle and rang the doorbell repeatedly. His mother, waking from her sleep, came running out in surprise. Without even saying hello, he went straight into his room. Without a word, he flopped onto his plush, comfortable bed. Even when she tried to talk to him, he didn’t answer.

Won Wooje’s first runaway attempt ended like this. Afterward, the villa often became a hideout for just the two of them, where they would boil cup ramen and eat together with Han Seolwoo.

Won Wooje had strong pride. If there was something he wanted, he had to have it; if there was something he wanted to do, he had to do it immediately. He loathed having his things taken away, and he hated having his territory invaded. If his mood was soured, he had to express it, and if curses came to mind, he had to spit them out loudly. This applied to everyone regardless of who they were—juniors, friends, seniors, teachers, or even parents.

The facts that his parents divorced when he was in the third grade, that he lived in the house of a man his mother lived with without being remarried, and that he had a stupid younger brother who didn’t share a single drop of blood—these three shames were top secrets Won Wooje intended to take to his grave. The only person who knew was Han Seolwoo.

Won Wooje liked that. He thought that the secret conversations shared only between them and the secrets that were nothing special made their relationship even stronger.

He was satisfied with the solidified relationship. The more he chewed on it, the more Han Seolwoo felt like his own possession. So, whenever he had the chance, he was busy keeping Han Seolwoo in check.

To Won Wooje, Han Seolwoo was his best friend and his lackey, his hyung and his younger brother, his Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei, and his mother, father, and teacher. The only proper friend in his life was Han Seolwoo. But Han Seolwoo wasn’t like that. There were always many guys hovering around him besides Won Wooje.

Even when they were getting along fine, he would often get angry at that fact. He felt bad if Han Seolwoo talked to other guys, and he got angry if he discovered a fact about Han Seolwoo that he didn’t know. There were many days when he would get irritated or pout for no reason.

“You are my alter ego, so you should do exactly like me.” He was always urging and brainwashing Han Seolwoo. Whenever that happened, Han Seolwoo would let out a hollow laugh. Then he would say, “Not an alter ego, more like an idiot ego.” Honestly, it wasn’t wrong.

Out of Won Wooje’s numerous “trigger buttons,” nine out of ten were about Han Seolwoo.

If someone accidentally stepped on Han Seolwoo’s foot, if someone accidentally disturbed Han Seolwoo, if someone accidentally teased Han Seolwoo. Or if someone else dared to… Han Seolwoo…

His outbursts reached their peak in middle school. He would pick unnecessary fights with students who beat Han Seolwoo’s score on mock exams, and when Han Seolwoo got caught in a random fight and got hit, Won Wooje would pay them back twofold. There was even a time he broke a bone in the back of his hand while throwing punches against three people. There was no fuss quite like his fuss.

Naturally, the stress Han Seolwoo experienced while dealing with this was significant. There were many troubles between the two of them as they incessantly traded “Don’t do it” and “It’s my choice.” Since entering high school, the fuss had decreased slightly due to Han Seolwoo’s desperate requests, demands, and sincere pleas.

Among kids their age who went to Unil Elementary and Unil Middle School, there wasn’t a single kid who didn’t know the rumors about Won Wooje. In group chats, videos would occasionally circulate of Won Wooje smiling while beating someone up after losing his cool.

However, no one thought that the fuss was because of Han Seolwoo. They simply thought of Won Wooje as a ‘thug who looks for any excuse to start a fight.’ Considering his usual behavior, it was a reasonable assumption.

Won Wooje was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. If someone talked behind his back, he would appear like a ghost and mercilessly bite their neck. Therefore, speaking ill of him was forbidden within the school. This was true in the bathrooms, the corners of the hallways, the gym storage room, and the playground sinks—anywhere he wasn’t present. He was practically a shaman.

The kids looked out for themselves and played it safe. You don’t avoid poop because you’re scared of it; you avoid it because it’s dirty. They hated it, so they pretended not to know and avoided him in disgust. A devilish bastard. A bastard who would survive even among a horde of zombies. A monstrous bastard who, despite not being bitten himself, would chew, tear, taste, and enjoy others.

The kids, who were completely intimidated, grumbled and cursed Won Wooje as ‘Shat-Wooje.’ Of course, they were busy keeping their eyes down and only chewing it over internally. Because he wasn’t just ordinary poop. He was a terrifying, lethal poop that was dirty, smelly, and wouldn’t wash off once it got on you. The kids shuddered every time the topic of “the poop” came up.

Han Seolwoo, who was born into an ordinary family and grew up ordinarily, is living a very ordinary life. Of course, the standard for that “ordinary” is strictly his own subjective opinion.

As the youngest son of a chaebol family where his grandfather is the chairman and his father is the president, Han Seolwoo grew up under a father who was extraordinary in many ways and an extraordinary mother.

With fair and exceptionally white skin, clear double eyelids, eyes as large as marbles, and doll-like features, he had been showered with unreserved praise since his stroller days. He continued to grow up well, and as the days passed, that mysterious atmosphere of his added more depth.

His grades were always good enough to be counted among the top in the entire school. He had an older sister, Han Seolah, who was one year older and always took first place, but he didn’t receive comparisons or pressure. He did well on his own without being told, and he listened well without being scolded. The wealthy and cozy family was harmonious both on the surface and internally.

An ordinary personality, ordinary friendships, and an ordinary life. In Han Seolwoo’s life, which had always been ordinary, there was only one thing that wasn’t ordinary.

“Seolwoo.”

It was Won Wooje.

“Han Seolwoo!”

When Won Wooje called, Han Seolwoo stopped what he was doing first. And if possible, he presented himself before him before he had to be called twice. It didn’t matter if he was in the middle of eating, kicking a ball, or peeing.

When Won Wooje calls, he goes regardless of the reason. Based on his accumulated experience, if he didn’t, he would have to endure a whole day of his crazy tantrums, so it was better to just listen to him before things escalated.

However, he wasn’t scared or terrified of Won Wooje like the other kids were. The reason Han Seolwoo was obedient was simply that he didn’t want to fight with Won Wooje or grow distant from him.

Han Seolwoo knew very well how much Won Wooje cherished him. To put it in perspective, it felt like he cherished him more than his own parents did. With a bit of exaggeration, it was as if he had practically adopted him as a son. That was how devotedly he treated him.

Despite the fact that Won Wooje didn’t even carry textbooks himself, he managed Han Seolwoo’s grades every single day. One day, seeing Han Seolwoo’s score had dropped by 10 points, he even cursed at him, asking what the hell he was doing with his life.