By Zephyria 
Trudging along, Eun-myeong returned to the hotel with his shoulders slumped.
He expected to be greeted by pitch-black darkness, but to his surprise, the lights were on. A man was sitting on the sofa. He was so large that his back seemed as wide as the sofa itself.
Eun-myeong didn’t know what to do. It was almost the first time the man had returned home before him.
Even though the man didn’t even look back at him, Eun-myeong quickly bowed his head.
“I… I’m home…”
Then, he stood to one side like a sinner. The atmosphere had been strange lately, making everything incredibly awkward. The man hadn’t changed, yet Eun-myeong was the only one on edge, acting as if he were desperate to use the restroom.
Eun-myeong repeatedly opened and closed his lips.
Actually, on his way back, he had a brief thought. What if he just told the Boss? That he was being blackmailed by Jjangja. That he was being threatened to go to the orphanage and bring back the medicine—would the Boss be able to help him?
Eun-myeong thought about the man. Everyone else agreed that he was a bad person, and the work he did was practically no different from a loan shark’s.
The conclusion he reached was ultimately this: why would such a man help him? It had nothing to do with the man.
Eun-myeong fumbled in his padded jacket pocket and pulled out his salary envelope.
“Boss, this is this month’s salary.”
He held out the envelope with both hands. The man didn’t take it immediately, but simply watched him.
Eun-myeong looked like a worn-out dog. His hair was cut short and jagged, exposing his slender nape and creating a more fragile aura; his complexion was pale, and his cheeks had sunken.
The man’s gaze brushed over Eun-myeong’s hand. Wondering why, Eun-myeong noticed the part where he had been burned by the spicy fish stew pot was swollen and red. It felt hot, as if a new heart had grown there, and it looked certain to blister.
Eun-myeong quickly curled his hand inward.
“It’s two million five hundred thousand won.”
“Then how much do you have left in your pocket?”
Eun-myeong sniffled. The hand that had been pushing the envelope forward gradually dropped.
“Three hundred thousand won.”
As if disgusted, the man slapped the envelope away with the back of his hand.
“Three hundred? You’re not a fucking dog; you’re living a month on that?”
Eun-myeong let the envelope drop powerlessly. Banknotes spilled out from the open mouth of the envelope.
“But… it’s better for you, Boss, if I pay it back as much as possible, as quickly as possible…”
Eun-myeong mumbled. He looked down at his salary envelope on the floor. A month’s struggle was all contained within that small envelope.
Why was he angry again?
Eun-myeong had no idea how to please him. One moment he was angry that Eun-myeong was idling and not working, and now that he worked and paid back the money, he didn’t seem happy.
Eun-myeong glanced at the man’s upper body. As luck would have it, today the man was wearing the shirt Eun-myeong had ironed.
He smelled of that deep body scent, as always. Whenever this happened, Eun-myeong naturally drifted back to that moment, like that pitiful dog that drooled whenever it saw food.
The pale moonlight that had pierced through the darkness, and the man standing against the moon. The firm, thick arms that had lifted him up, the hot body temperature touching his chest, the loud thumping of a heart, the voice that had comforted him.
The current man was smoking with his right hand while crushing the heel of his left shoe. Everything was exactly like the habits Eun-myeong had discovered about him.
His heart sank. His mind was unbearably unsettled. He didn’t know where to tie down his heart, which was drifting aimlessly.
Perhaps Eun-myeong was just a little tired. He had gone to the seaside and wandered through the fish market. He had wandered aimlessly here and there, but each time, the feeling of being alone only grew stronger.
“Give me your hand.”
At the voice coming from the front, Eun-myeong lifted his head slightly. He could see the man’s eyes through his bangs.
“I said, give me your hand.”
Why suddenly my hand…?
Regardless, it wasn’t as if he could refuse. When Eun-myeong obediently held out his hand, the man clicked his tongue.
The man reached under the sofa table and pulled out a first-aid kit. He rummaged through the box, took out some ointment, squeezed a generous amount, and rubbed it into Eun-myeong’s wound with his thumb.
“Ah…”
It stung. When Eun-myeong tried to pull back because of the pain, the man glared at him with a sharp “Ssh.” In the end, Eun-myeong had to leave himself entirely in the man’s hands.
Why was he tending to his wound? Eun-myeong wondered.
He was an unremarkable person in many ways, and his hands were especially so. Despite being pale, they were covered in an absurd number of scars. Getting hurt while weaving cast nets, serving at the sashimi restaurant, chopping, or using fire was a common occurrence.
The Director always told him that since he had a decent-looking face, he should at least keep his face intact. Did this man also find it eyesore-inducing to see scars on his product?
Was he being kind to him because he feared the product’s value would drop if it got scratched?
But Eun-myeong truly wished the man wouldn’t do this. Because if Eun-myeong were truly just an object, he wouldn’t harbor any emotions in his heart no matter how much he was polished…
But Eun-myeong, who was weak to the kindness of others, couldn’t help it; his heart trembled and his body shrank, like a pussy willow shivering in a slight breeze.
The man took out a bandage and used a snake lighter to singe the edges.
“What are you doing?”
“Sterilizing.”
Eun-myeong gazed at the completely expressionless face for a moment. He curled and uncurled his toes. Since he couldn’t manipulate his own heart, he moved the things he could bend and stretch instead. For instance, he tried folding and unfolding his fingers, knees, neck, and shoulders.
The man wrapped the bandage around Eun-myeong’s hand. He gave a short laugh.
“You’re working fucking hard for 300,000 won.”
His eyes curved mischievously. At that, Eun-myeong felt a sudden urge to say something, like a parrot that had been tapped.
“Boss, um.”
Eun-myeong’s lips trembled several times. He desperately wanted to unfold the words he had kept pressed down in a corner of his heart.
“I, uh, I visited Noona a while ago.”
“Hmm?” The man habitually raised and lowered an eyebrow.
“She was doing really well. She looked cool in a suit.”
The words he blurted out seemed somewhat random, but in truth, Eun-myeong wanted to say thank you.
The thought of telling the man about Jjangja’s blackmail had already ceased. He decided to end his thoughts by simply thanking the man.
For several days, they had been in a cold war with no room to breathe. Their eyes had barely met, and whenever the man’s touch neared, Eun-myeong would jump as if he had been burned.
Even if he was a bad person, he wanted to say that he was grateful for the kindness he showed from time to time…
For some reason, the words wouldn’t leave his mouth, and he just kept talking in circles. He felt a ticklish sensation, as if chick down were brushing against his heart.
So, instead of words, Eun-myeong wanted to give him something he could. He reached deep into his pocket. He revealed to the man something he had carried around almost like a lucky charm.
The lighter he had bought for the man after much deliberation at the market appeared under the lamp light.
“Boss, I actually bought this for you.”
Something small, insignificant, and utterly shabby. As soon as he showed it to the man, he felt so embarrassed that he wanted to quickly curl his fist and hide it again.
“It only cost five thousand won. It’s cheap, so you can throw it away if you don’t like it.”
Still, nevertheless, if he would show a little mercy and accept it.
“Since you bought a new one too.”
He added timidly and cautiously gauged the man’s reaction. He said things he didn’t mean, fearing the man might feel burdened, even though he knew the man wasn’t someone who considered others.
However, the man just looked down at Eun-myeong’s palm without saying a word. Anyone watching would have thought he was reading Eun-myeong’s palm lines.
The silence lasted too long. Just as Eun-myeong was about to tightly clench his fist, the man slammed the side table.
“Ack!”
Eun-myeong jumped up in surprise. He wondered why he was being so violent again, but then the man opened his palm. The metal snake lighter had been ruthlessly crushed in his wide grip. The debris scattered across the rug.
The man took the tiger lighter from Eun-myeong and gripped it in his hand.
“You’ve made so much money that you’re spending it on useless things. Isn’t fifty million won your entire fortune?”
It’s not fifty million won, Eun-myeong mumbled softly.
“And this is fine…”
The man pulled a wad of bills from the envelope and stuffed them into Eun-myeong’s waistband.
“Go buy some snacks for the baby. If you lose weight, it’s no fun squeezing your ass.”
The bills were shoved strangely into the thin waistband, making it bulge thickly. The man chuckled and tapped Eun-myeong’s groin with the back of his hand.
“Look at you, must’ve gotten a lot of tips.”
As the impact vibrated below, Eun-myeong startled and his shoulders trembled. Horrified by the unbelievably vulgar words, he gave a small “Yes.”
“Hurry up, wash your feet and crawl into bed. Don’t wipe your armpits.”
Why the armpits, where sweat collects the most? Eun-myeong blinked, but feeling as if he knew the reason without asking, he let out a deep sigh internally.
He scurried toward the bathroom. Hearing a hissing sound, he looked back to see the man lighting a cigarette with the tiger lighter. The large flame that instantly ignited the tip of the cigarette had quite a strong fire.
When their eyes met, the man raised an eyebrow as if asking what he was staring at.
“It’s nothing.”
The corners of Eun-myeong’s reddish lips, which had been drooping powerlessly, curved softly. A slight, hook-like smile lingered on his mouth.
Eun-myeong felt very relieved. No matter what happened later, at least he wouldn’t regret not being able to give him the lighter.