By Zephyria 
Kwon Juhan. 22 years old at the time.
Though not top-tier, he was enrolled in the Western Painting department of a reputable art university. However, he later became obsessed with the ‘Sex Pistols,’ neglecting his studies and dedicating himself to his guitar. He eventually joined an underground punk band, left home, and began living in the band’s practice room, eating and sleeping there.
The reason he left home was not because his parents opposed his band activities. They had already changed their approach when he was in middle school, determined to get Joo-han, who had no interest in studying, into a four-year university in Seoul. They had enrolled him in a famous art academy for college entrance exams and found skilled instructors for private lessons, ultimately achieving their goal.
While his father did smash two guitars and his mother cut off his allowance, indicating opposition to his band activities, these were not the decisive reasons why Joo-han, a young master who had lived a life of privilege without hardship, ended up sleeping on the practice room sofa.
His parents would have been reasonably satisfied as long as he obtained a college diploma, regardless of whether he played guitar or did anything else. However, even parents who had almost given up on their son, who wouldn’t move according to their wishes, could not accept him engaging in perverted homosexual acts.
An instructor he dated for about a year during his academy days had been stalking Joo-han for several years (even during his military service). When his repeated requests to meet again were rejected, the stalker retaliated by attempting to destroy Joo-han’s life.
He sent the results of his stalking, which he had meticulously collected over time, to Joo-han’s parents.
From Joo-han’s perspective, these were evidence of stalking. But to Joo-han’s parents, they were proof that their son was a homo, and not just any homo, but one with perverse sexual tastes that were difficult for ordinary people to accept.
The package included not only photos taken together during their relationship but also pictures of him engaging in intimate physical contact with a one-night stand at a club, and even screenshots of extremely private dirty talk exchanged via messages during their relationship.
―along with a memo stating:
“Your son is a perverted homo who enjoys teasing and making men twice his age cry by penetrating their anuses with lewd words. I am someone whose life has been ruined because of your son. Please put effort into guiding him at home to prevent further victims.”
It was true that Joo-han liked men in their late thirties who were listless and timid, and that he found excitement in making them cry with pleasure that crossed the boundaries of common sense, pleasure they had never experienced before, by provoking their sexual shame. But who was ruining whose life?
Wasn’t it Joo-han who had granted him liberation and salvation by fulfilling his perverse sexual desires, which he had suppressed for so long without any outlet?
These were words he least wanted to hear from someone who had been so passionately aroused by that very play.
Formally, Joo-han had left home by his own volition, but in reality, it was tantamount to being disowned.
His mother vomited while still seated on the sofa, without even having time to reach the bathroom. His father, who had never laid a hand on him despite smashing his guitars twice, lost his temper and beat Joo-han indiscriminately.
Joo-han had even shouted, arguing that consensual sexual relations between people with the same sexual preferences were not wrong, and that parents had no right to interfere with their child’s sex life. But in truth, Joo-han understood his parents’ shock.
If seeing sex photos and dirty talk with a heterosexual partner would be shocking, it was understandable that parents would feel like their world was collapsing upon seeing pictures of their son having his genitals sucked by an older man.
Even when he pleaded, “I am still Kwon Juhan, the son you knew,” his parents’ gazes were filled with contempt and anger. Simply being in the same house was hell. It seemed better to maintain distance until they could regain their composure and re-evaluate the situation.
He was working three part-time jobs a day to earn money for a place to live, but all the jobs were hastily arranged, and the hourly wage was poor for the intensity of the labor.
Lying down each night on a sofa with torn cushions, which someone had discarded when moving, Joo-han thought.
“Well, at that age, it wouldn’t be easy to find a young man who would say, ‘Why is my older man so sexy? Can’t you even hold your pee at that age?’ and insert a cotton swab into your urethra. So, his desires would have piled up, and he must have been very angry.”
―If you thought he would understand that, you were mistaken about Kwon Juhan.
Joo-han had changed his phone number several times to escape the stalker. The last time he changed his number, the stalker sent him a video of himself masturbating as a congratulatory gift for getting a new phone. Even then, Joo-han had simply deleted the message and blocked the ID.
The stalker had attended every live performance of the band and had repeatedly knelt in front of his house, begging him to get back together. It wasn’t out of love. From the beginning, they had simply enjoyed each other, and the stalker just couldn’t find a partner who satisfied him as much as Joo-han did.
“He’ll stop eventually.” It was a mistake to dismiss it as the actions of an overly enthusiastic fan. He thought, “What kind of major trouble could a timid, introverted person cause by escalating things?” But that was Joo-han’s miscalculation.
A timid person would never wield a knife against another’s life in this manner. That person was simply a gloomy, cowardly son of a bitch. He could forgive someone being gloomy, but he couldn’t overlook cowardice.
For about a month, staring at the mold stains on the practice room ceiling, Joo-han spent every night contemplating how to exact revenge to appease his anger.
“Yes, nothing else matters. I need to vent my anger. I won’t be able to sleep at night until my inner rage is completely burned away. I need to pour that passion onto that bastard.” To achieve that, Joo-han, once a young master from a wealthy family, was prepared to live the rest of his life with a criminal record. That was the spirit of punk.
The day his first paycheck arrived, Joo-han went to his regular vintage shop.
It was a store that sold punk-style items, not common in Korea. He had finally found the combat boots he had been eyeing. Joo-han intended to carry out his revenge wearing those boots.
“Hyung, how could you? I was going to buy them!”
“Sorry… but as you know, we’re not exactly running a business with a lot of spare capital. You put a hold on them but didn’t come for a month. When someone who wanted to buy them appeared, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had no choice. Please understand.”
Joo-han was devastated to hear that the boots he had specifically asked the owner not to sell to anyone else, promising to buy them as soon as his paycheck came in, had been sold just five minutes ago. He felt anxious, as if his revenge was being put on hold.
“I endured a whole month of cup noodles and triangle kimbap just thinking about those boots!”
“We got a lot of other nice boots. You don’t have to have that specific pair.”
“To me, those aren’t just shoes! Hyung, do you happen to have the contact information of the person who bought them?”
“Uh… well…”
The owner scratched his sparse beard with his index finger, his eyes darting around. Joo-han leaned over the counter, his upper body thrusting forward.
“What is it, you know? If you know, please tell me! I’ll pay extra… no, I’ll beg you to help me find them!”
At that moment, someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder from behind. It was a gentle touch, as if tickling him, a soft touch as if playing a prank.
“How much extra are you willing to pay?”
“……”
He turned around to see a woman of slender build looking up at him. Her short, sharply cut black hair and sunglasses, worn indoors in the dead of winter, were striking. She wasn’t particularly tall, but due to the heels of her lace-up boots, her lips were at the level of Joo-han’s nose.
From head to toe, from the piercings through her eyebrows and cheeks to her tartan check coat, she was punk personified.
“Her style is killer.” Even in that situation, Joo-han marveled.
“Did… did you buy them?”
The woman nodded.
“What? They probably won’t even fit your feet! Sell them to me, okay?”
“Do you only buy shoes to wear them? Why are you acting like a rookie?”
The woman scrunched up her eyes at Joo-han, who was lunging at her.
“Noona, Hyung. Please, sell them to me. I’m the one who endured an extreme month just thinking about getting those shoes. Right now, those shoes aren’t just shoes to me. They’re a symbol of my resolve.”
The woman’s gaze, as if gauging the sincerity of Joo-han’s desperation, felt like it was meticulously dissecting him from beyond her sunglasses.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Some son of a bitch has ruined my life. I promised myself that I would go get revenge on that bastard once I got those boots.”
She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and looked at Joo-han. Her large eyes, accentuated by dark smoky makeup, were remarkably clear.
“I want to study aesthetics, go abroad, and become a curator in Europe, but my parents want me to go to a normal university and become a teacher. Like my obedient younger sister, who wears the clothes they pick, goes to the academies they choose, and plays with the friends they designate. But I secretly applied to the Aesthetics department at XX University and got accepted. My parents said they wouldn’t pay tuition unless I went to a normal university. I couldn’t go to the university I worked so hard to get into, so I left home and ended up in a 1.5-pyeong (approx. 5 sq meter) studio apartment. Still, wanting to gain experience in something I love, I started working at a gallery, putting in over 15 hours a day, but only receiving passion pay. There are kids lining up willing to work for that pay, and I could get fired at any moment.”
Joo-han scrunched up his eyes this time, unable to grasp the intention behind her sudden outpouring of personal confession. Was this a competition of misery? If he won, would she give him the boots?
“So? Is your life more ruined than mine?”
As if anticipating her question, Joo-han answered immediately.
“Outing.”
“……”
She stared at Joo-han silently for a moment. Then, crossing her arms, she asked her next question.
“…The target?”
“My parents.”
“…The perpetrator?”
“An ex-boyfriend. An art instructor I dated in high school. He was 37 at the time. He’s 41 now.”
This time, she used all the muscles in her face to contort her expression.
“What’s with your taste?”
“I know my taste is crappy. But he’s the one who exposed that taste to my parents.”
“He really is a son of a bitch.”
“Right? I’m going to wear these and shove that bastard into the gutter this time. I’ll make sure he can never shit out of his ass again. Even if it means getting dragged to the police station. I can’t stand owing anyone anything. So, please, give them to me.”
“Let’s go.”
The woman, adjusting her sunglasses back into place, walked past Joo-han towards the entrance.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you giving me the shoes? You said he’s a son of a bitch, didn’t you?”
Joo-han shouted as he followed her. As she opened the door, the cold winter air rushed in as if it had been waiting.
“Will that be revenge? An eye for an eye. Social ruin must be repaid with social ruin.”
■ ■ ■
Perhaps being located in Hongdae didn’t guarantee business, as there were only two or three tables occupied in the bar, even on a Saturday evening. The closest table to the entrance seemed to be occupied by the owner’s acquaintances.
The interior wasn’t sophisticated but had a comfortable and unique atmosphere. The music was at a moderate volume and well-selected, and the drinks were affordable. Despite these advantages, Joo-han Hyung and Yooni Noona explained, the place was not popular because it wasn’t photogenic.
It had been two weeks since he helped with Phantom’s new exhibition VIP opening.
For a few days afterward, he felt as if he had visited another world, his feet barely touching the ground. But as he busied himself juggling his moving company job and working as a helper for Teacher’s household, his sense of reality returned.
He had received a call from Yooni Noona through Teacher on Wednesday. Her invitation to have a beer with Joo-han Hyung on Saturday had been unexpected yet welcome.
While heading to the meeting spot after showering at home following his moving job, sweat had already beaded on his forehead. The weather had become warm enough, hinting at the approach of early summer.
Meeting them outside, the Noona and Hyung were much more familiar, and their titles quickly shifted from Yooni-ssi and Joo-han-ssi to Yooni Noona and Joo-han Hyung.
With fries topped with melted cheddar cheese and draft beer before them, Joo-han Hyung was delving into memories from three years prior.
One of the two cats kept at the bar leaped onto the empty chair next to Joo-han Hyung. It was a long-haired Persian breed that was very fond of people. Stroking the cat’s back, Hyung continued his story.
“From there, we went to a nearby cafe and I laid out everything about that bastard, from the past to the present. That alone took about two hours. Baek Yuni’s questions were so thorough and calm that I felt like I was there to find a lawyer to sue that guy.”
Given their similar styles and the comfortable rapport they shared, Joo-han had initially thought they had known each other before working together at Phantom, but that was not the case at all.
Afterward, the two of them brainstormed several revenge scenarios. After careful consideration, they chose one and executed it. The materials the stalker had sent to Joo-han Hyung’s parents were delivered, intact, to the director of the academy where the stalker worked.
“It was one of that bastard’s regular duties to deliver the day’s mail and report on the academy’s situation when the director arrived in the late afternoon. The materials he sent to my parents, the ones he used to stalk me. He ended up handing them directly to his superior. I can just imagine him, trembling in front of his boss, who was looking at screenshots of messages where he begged the boss, twenty years his junior, to treat him like a dog in bed again, all while pretending to talk about student enrollment rates…”
Hyung paused for a moment, then gently rubbed his cheek against the cat he was holding, a soft smile on his face.
It was easy to guess the reaction of the director, a perfectly ordinary middle-aged man who might not even be desensitized to men holding hands, to the sordid contents of the mail.
“He shot himself in the foot. If it had come to my house, it would have been my outing. If it had gone to his house, it would have been his outing. We chose the company over our homes. The tip of the knife that cuts others can also become a self-inflicted wound. Thanks to Baek Yuni, I learned that very clearly.”
“It must have been a Monday morning with a lot of realizations for that bastard too,” Yooni Noona said, leaning her elbows on the table and drinking her beer.
“Those who make others cry tears of blood must have their own blood drawn. No matter how long it takes, how much effort is required, even if my entire life is consumed by it… my principle is that I never let go of someone who has wronged me,” Joo-han Hyung said, his voice carrying a hint of menace. He then lightly rubbed his nose against the cat’s nose with an affectionate voice, “Righttt, Kushong-ah….”
He was curious about what happened to the stalker afterward, but he could also guess. If a man in his forties was outed at work in such a manner, the consequences were predictable. While his family might be shocked and disown him, they would likely keep it quiet from others. Society, however, would not.
“Are you perhaps feeling sorry for that bastard?”
Hyung’s guess was wrong.
He was merely contemplating how clearly a situation with a definite target of revenge and resentment could be resolved. I shook my head.
“I think it was a clean ending.”
“You’re quite cold-blooded for someone who looks like that,” Hyung said, grinning. His mischievous, villainous smile suddenly reminded him of Phantom’s CEO.
We all ordered another round of beer. It was their third round, and my second.
“That was the beginning for Baek Yuni and me. If it weren’t for her, I might have gone to that bastard’s place and lost my temper, becoming a real criminal. My parents wouldn’t have paid any settlement money back then. Well, the situation hasn’t changed much even now.”
Joo-han Hyung, with beer foam on his lips, wore a slightly bitter expression.
“But speaking of Baek Yuni, it turns out that the story about her struggling at a gallery was all in the past. Back then, she was already doing well, earning a hefty salary at Phantom. She was working hard because they were short-handed, but she’d already escaped that 1.5-pyeong goshiwon long ago.”
“If Phantom hadn’t been growing so rapidly and desperately needing staff, I wouldn’t have let you interview there. Ah, timing…”
After Juhan Hyung’s accusatory remark, which sounded like he felt wronged, Yooni Noona’s playful complaint followed.
Meanwhile, other tables began to leave, and only the owner’s acquaintances and us remained at the bar. They seemed to be engaged in some kind of bet, as a moment later, a cheer of “Wow!” and a sigh of disappointment erupted together. The cat, startled by the noise, twitched its ears back and forth and burrowed deeper into Hyung’s embrace.
I took a couple of sips of beer, looking down at Hyung’s thin hand gently stroking the cat. After moving to Seoul, I had come to know the comfort and reward of a can of beer at the end of the workday, but today’s beer had a different taste altogether.
Returning to the beginning of the story, I asked the one thing I had been curious about throughout the revenge tale.
“What happened to the boots?”
“Boots? Ah… those boots.”
Hyung grinned and lifted his right leg higher than the table. Startled by the sudden movement, the cat quickly jumped off the chair and disappeared into the back of the bar.
“I’m not someone who goes back on my word,” Yooni Noona said, proposing a toast.
Three glasses clinked together over the cold french fries. Though I didn’t know exactly what it was for, it felt like a toast to celebrate something.
“So, Lee Hyun-ah, would you like to work officially at Phantom?”
“What?”
As if shaking off the lingering residue of the past, Hyung downed more than half his beer, set the glass down with a satisfying sound, and suddenly brought up the topic. From the next seat, Yooni Noona’s sigh could be heard.
“Is it enough to just say ‘So, about that’? You said you’d bring it up and leave it to you, and I knew this would happen.”
“Why? Wasn’t it natural? It’s the story of how I met you and ended up working at Phantom. Is it unnatural to then ask if you’d like to work here too?”
“Let’s just not talk about it.”
Hyung raised his eyebrows and lowered the corners of his mouth, wearing an expression of grievance. Instead, Noona began to speak in her characteristic quick yet calm tone.
“Phantom’s work is tough, but the compensation is almost top-tier in the industry. In fact, most galleries have a much worse working environment than Phantom. It’s common for galleries of similar size to have only one employee. We’ve always hired more staff as the gallery grew, but it seems like we need new employees again. We want you to join us.”
“First of all… I’m very grateful for your offer. I’m glad you see me in a good light. But I’m not experienced, so I don’t know if I’ll be helpful…”
Just as when I heard through Teacher that the two of them wanted to meet me privately, it was both unexpected and welcome. However, I also doubted how much I could contribute as an employee in a professional space like a gallery.
“But actually, Manager Han… she offered me a position as a live-in helper.”
“Live-in, entirely?”
“Yes, I haven’t decided and told her yet, but I think that’s how it’ll turn out.”
It was on Wednesday that I received the live-in offer from Teacher.
After relaying that Yooni Noona and Juhan Hyung wanted to meet me, Teacher gave me a ride home and then offered me the live-in position. It was likely an offer made considering my situation. Teacher didn’t deny it either. Ultimately, it was a choice between owing a debt to Morae and Hyung, or to Teacher.
“Then that’s even better! If you move into Manager Han’s place, it’ll be convenient to work at Phantom and do the helper job too!”
“Hey, if Lee Hyun works at Phantom, she’ll be commuting every day and working overtime. How can she possibly manage the live-in helper job as well? Do you think housework is that easy?”
“I’m a self-sufficient student who knows how to run a washing machine and take out the trash on time! Baek Yuni… you’re really showing your true colors.”
Despite Noona’s scolding, Juhan Hyung wore a smile that day. It was a sly smile with ulterior motives, though.
“What?”
“You’re just jealous because Lee Hyun is going to live at Manager Han’s place, aren’t you?”
After staring at Hyung across from her in silence for a moment, Noona shook her head.
“We should have just let him go to jail back then.”
The offer to work officially at Phantom genuinely stirred something in my heart. While the moving company job and the helper job at Teacher’s place were suitable and comfortable, they lacked any excitement. They were jobs that made me retreat further into myself, which was why I found comfort in them.
But Phantom… held uncertainty.
It was like an unpredictable, sudden stimulus that would pull me out from where I was curled up, digging into the damp sand on the beach, and set me upon the shimmering waves.
I knew it was time to make a choice, in one way or another. I couldn’t keep sleeping with a loving couple separated by a sliding door, having even resorted to running away, and surrendering myself to physical labor simply because it helped clear my mind.
“Just adding one more person won’t immediately lighten the workload. Depending on who joins, the work might even increase, and if personalities clash, it’s stressful… That’s why I kept putting off finding someone, but I feel like we could work together enjoyably, so I’m telling you this. Think about it. If it seems okay, you can tell us, or you can tell Manager Han.”
I was genuinely happy about their offer. Though I had long distanced myself from brushes, working surrounded by art felt like a wonderful alternative.
However, there was another reason why I couldn’t simply accept the outstretched hand with pure joy.
“CEO Ryu… won’t he dislike me joining, won’t he?”
“What’s there to like or dislike? She’s just helping out for a while.” – His indifference still held weight within me.
“Don’t worry about that at all. That guy has his own share of life’s ups and downs, so he doesn’t trust people easily, but deep down, he’s friendly towards you. Maybe because he’s a Golden Alpha, he trusts his instincts a lot. If he disliked you, he wouldn’t have let you into Phantom at all. And if he disliked you, why would he have inquired about you to Manager Han?”
“……”
Thinking my stiff expression and lips were due to displeasure, Hyung made a face as if he realized his mistake and corrected himself.
“Ah, it wasn’t exactly inquiring… he seemed to be asking if you had majored in art, or something like that. What you said to Inwoo Teacher about your artwork that day was a topic of conversation among us for a while. Don’t take it the wrong way. I was listening next to him, and it wasn’t a question meant to dig into your past with any malice.”
I wasn’t displeased. A ripple, like a wave pushing under my feet, stirred in my chest for a moment, but it wasn’t displeasure. Though I was clumsy at expressing emotions in words, I earnestly explained that it wasn’t a bad feeling, hoping my sincerity would reach them.
“Even if you don’t work at Phantom, let’s keep in touch and see each other occasionally. Baek Yuni seems to like you, which is rare.”
“He probably likes you because you’re a handsome man.”
“He’s the one who kept singing your praises about recruiting you every time he saw you, he’s just a tsundere. Adapt to him, Lee Hyun.”
That day, I drank three cans of beer for the first time. Hearing about their not-so-light past made me feel closer and more comfortable with them than before, and the restless, ambiguous stirring within me also urged me to drink faster than usual.
I had to rest twice on the stairs leading home. Looking down at the Seoul night view from the stairs, I no longer saw fishing boats reminiscent of the harbor.
■ ■ ■
Almond cereal, a liter of milk, a set of plain yogurt, and finally, cranberry juice. As I placed them in the basket and headed for the checkout, the Korean melon was already there.
Although I could eat watermelon in the dead of winter and tangerines in midsummer, the Korean melon on the green non-woven fabric display was, despite being harvested a bit early, undeniably a seasonal fruit.
I picked one and held it to my nose; the scent was quite sweet. If I peeled it, cut it into easy-to-eat pieces, and put it in the refrigerator, it would be convenient for them to take out.
Grocery shopping wasn’t included in the household duties for Teacher’s home, but I knew my diet would become even more chaotic if I didn’t buy things like this, so I made sure to stock up on juice, milk, fruit, cereal, and bread about once a week. If I knew how to cook, I would have liked to make something simple for them, but all I could do was ramen and fried eggs.
Nowadays, delivery food is so good that grocery shopping isn’t strictly necessary, but I was glad they seemed to eat what I bought, perhaps to acknowledge my effort. I was already being paid generously for a job that wasn’t particularly difficult, so I wanted to be of more help, even if it was just with these things.
After buying a few more sandwiches and bread from the bakery opposite the checkout, I stepped outside into the strong sunlight. I made a makeshift shade with my hand and, after adjusting to the light, started walking.
Teacher’s home was a luxury apartment with a Han River view, but it was a small complex with only two buildings, so it didn’t have its own commercial area. There was a commercial area in the adjacent large apartment complex, but it only had a small supermarket. I usually did my grocery shopping at a large mart a 10-minute walk away and then walked to work.
“Seo Yi-hyun!”
Just as I entered the alleyway that led straight to the apartment after crossing the crosswalk, someone called me. Reflexively, I turned towards the sound and saw Teacher smiling at me from the passenger seat of a sleek white SUV. I smiled back in greeting and approached the car, but beyond Teacher’s shoulder, I saw the Phantom CEO sitting in the driver’s seat.
Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, my heart fluttered.
“I told you, you don’t have to carry groceries, it’s heavy.”
“It’s not much.”
“Get in. Let’s go up together.”
While I hesitated, another car was trying to enter the alley. It didn’t seem like a situation where I could politely refuse, so I got into the back seat. As soon as the door closed, the car glided down the alley towards the Han River where the apartment was located.
“I had a minor fender bender on my way to work this morning. I left it at the service center, and they said it would take about a week. Thanks to that, I’m driving CEO Ryu’s car home, you see.”
“A… accident?”
At my agitated voice, Teacher turned around and smiled gently as if to reassure me.
“Ah, yes. It was just a small fender bender, and I’m fine.”
“What’s a small accident and what’s a big one? Even though it’s not Manager Han’s fault this time, how many accidents is this already? Think about the person who has to receive calls about accidents every few months.”
I was already curious why Teacher was leaving work early today, as I hadn’t scheduled a moving company job, but to hear that there had been an accident, even if no one was hurt… This time, I couldn’t help but agree with Phantom CEO’s statement.
Hiding my trembling hands, I pulled the eco-bag I was using as a grocery bag onto my lap and clutched it tightly to calm myself.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I’m a hundred times sorry for causing worry.”
“I keep telling you your driving style is too aggressive.”
“CEO Ryu, stop talking about the frustrated Manager Han and let’s get back to talking about Shushu. Okay?”
Teacher tried to change the subject quickly, but he seemed genuinely angry. It was an emotional tone I hadn’t heard from him before.
“If you don’t like being lectured, then change your driving style. If you can’t change your habits, I’ll get you a driver.”
“You drive yourself, and you want me to ride in a car with a driver? What would people say?”
“What does it matter what people say? If something happens to Manager Han, will those people take responsibility for Phantom in his place?”
“Lee Hyun, did you hear what CEO Ryu just said? This is what tsundere means, right?”
Teacher asked, turning to me in the back seat. It wasn’t a question seeking genuine agreement.
“If you’re worried I might get hurt, just say so. Don’t use Phantom as an excuse.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Teacher continued to speak in a light, joking tone. As he gently steered the car towards the entrance of the apartment’s underground parking lot, he lowered his voice, which had been a tone higher than usual, back to its normal pitch.
“If you know that well, then please be careful.”
It was a voice mixed with a sigh that sounded like it could blow away at any moment. Anyone could tell his concern was more than just nagging.
Teacher didn’t turn around this time, but I could tell from his profile that he was smiling, a smile that conveyed both apology and gratitude.
The indifferent, swaggering attitude he showed towards the man in the passenger seat, the business-like politeness he showed to the clients at the party. And the hostility he showed towards me, an outsider.
That was all I knew of him. I thought he was a playful and kind boss to Phantom’s staff, but I never imagined he was someone who could worry about someone with such an anxious voice, to the point of seeming slightly overprotective.
But, yes. Unless blue blood flowed in his veins like his eyes, even someone who seemed to not pour excessive affection on anyone couldn’t help but be unable to remain detached when it came to someone precious. That’s only natural.
As we descended into the underground parking lot, the air felt stuffy. No one seemed to give it any significance, but I was bothered by missing the timing to greet the CEO.
When I first made eye contact with him as he got out of the driver’s seat and walked towards the front of the car, I greeted him with a small voice, “Hello,” and he gave a slight nod.
Compared to the person who had ‘inquired’ about me, as Juhan Hyung put it, those pale blue eyes still seemed to hold no interest in me.
To him, I was a temporary helper at Phantom who would leave after a short while, and now, a housekeeper for Teacher’s home. Unless he was particularly affectionate and sociable, there was no need for him to put in effort, say warm words, or offer smiles to someone of my standing.
Politeness for the sake of etiquette, a barrage of questions disguised as socializing – these were things I disliked, so there was no reason to be offended by his indifference.
Upon arriving home, the two of them immediately started discussing work at the kitchen table, and I, in turn, began my own tasks.
To allow them to talk comfortably, I started cleaning the four rooms and two bathrooms.
Judging from the fragments of conversation I overheard whenever I went in and out of the rooms, a solo exhibition for one of Phantom’s exclusive artists was being planned, and the CEO, who had visited the artist’s studio that day, seemed eager to expedite the exhibition schedule.
A different kind of excitement, unlike his concern for Teacher’s wild driving habits, emanated from his voice.
If I heard correctly, the artist’s name seemed to be ‘Shushu.’ Every time his low voice, slightly husky as if scratched by thorns, pronounced the word ‘Shushu,’ which had a sweet sound, I felt an unfamiliar texture. It was like a record skipping at a particular part, or like watching him bend down to hug a poodle and shower it with kisses.
It might be considered incongruous, but it wasn’t an unpleasant or jarring dissonance; rather, it was novel and new, sparking my interest.
Shushu. What kind of paintings would an artist with such a name create? Of course, it wasn’t her real name, but I became curious.
“Are you really planning to have her move in?”
While cleaning the bathroom in the living room, I paused my scrubbing of the bathtub and heard his voice from beyond the tiled wall. Though not every syllable was perfectly clear, the volume was enough to roughly infer the content of the conversation.
“It’s not definite yet, but it seems likely. It was hard to persuade her.”
“It’s called a live-in helper, but it’s living in the same house as a complete stranger.”
“A complete stranger? She’s someone I taught in the past.”
“Ah, ten years ago?”
“Do you have to say it like that now? I wish you’d stop.”
“Why would you bring a man into your home and live with him, knowing something might happen? Even someone who looks fine could turn at any moment.”
“Then we should kick CEO Ryu out first. CEO Ryu is a man too.”
“Am I the same as that guy? To Manager Han?”
If not the same as me, then what is he to Teacher?
I understood her concern about a precious person potentially living with a man who wasn’t family. It was perhaps a natural and valid worry. But from the position of being the cause of that worry, it was also an unavoidable conversation that wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“I know you’re worried, but I have my own plans. I don’t want Hyun-i to hear any of this, so if you don’t want to see me truly angry, let’s stop.”
He stopped there for the moment. The topic returned to the writer named Shushu. The CEO wanted to hold the exhibition as soon as possible, while Teacher couldn’t easily agree, citing a too-tight schedule… such conversations continued.
Since I turned the shower knob to rinse off the soap suds, I don’t know what was said afterward.
Teacher rarely used the bathroom in the living room, so it didn’t require much cleaning, but for some reason, I felt uncomfortable going out, so I took longer than usual. Thanks to that, the bathroom sparkled.
After finishing cleaning the living room, kitchen, and dining area, I reached for my bag that I’d left on the sofa, but it seemed the meeting by the dining table had concluded as Teacher pushed his chair back and approached me.
“Hyun-i, if you haven’t scheduled the moving company for next Saturday yet, could you help Phantom with some work?”
“Next Saturday is still open.”
“The exhibition I helped with last time has its deadline that day. But the schedule for the next exhibition has been moved up considerably… Our CEO is apparently impatient to open it.”
It seemed his insistence on rushing Shushu’s exhibition had won.
“I’m fine with it…”
I found myself staring at him as he sat leaning loosely against the dining chair, drinking coffee. I did it without realizing.
Sensing the direction of my gaze, Teacher glanced at him once, then placed both hands on my shoulders.
“Why are you looking at CEO Ryu? I’m the one asking you.”
From over Teacher’s shoulder, he put down his mug and stood up.
“Of course, Manager Han is the real power here. I’m leaving.”
He picked up the summer jacket draped over the adjacent seat, checked his wristwatch beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves, and took another quick sip of coffee while standing.
“Kun, give Hyun-i a ride on your way.”
“Ah, no. It’s okay.”
He looked at me for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to Teacher and said, “She says it’s okay?”
“It’s on your way. Give her a ride.”
He looked down at me wordlessly for a moment, then turned towards the entrance.
“Let’s go.”
“I’m really fine. There’s a bus too.”
“Manager Han wants you to. So, let’s just do that.”
His tone suggested he wasn’t offering out of his own willingness, but rather to end the back-and-forth and get it over with.
“Don’t mind him. Just take the ride.”
Teacher whispered, patting my shoulders a couple of times. I gave him an awkward smile. He seemed to underestimate my discomfort with the other man more than it actually was. He put on his shoes first and waited by the entrance door while I tied my Converse laces.
In the elevator, he asked where I lived. When I gave him the neighborhood name and the name of the large church that served as a landmark across from the steep stairs leading to my house, he responded with an “Mm,” as if he knew where it was.
“I heard you used to learn painting from Manager Han.”
That was the first thing he said after we got into the car and were about to leave the apartment complex, as we turned onto the main road.
“Yes, when I was very young.”
“Very young? How young?”
“From the fourth grade of elementary school for about a year.”
As he waited for the right moment to turn right onto the main road, he asked for permission to smoke. I nodded, and he rummaged through his jacket pocket, which he’d tossed behind the armrest, pulled out a cigarette, and put it in his mouth. Meanwhile, another car had pulled up behind us and honked briefly. With the cigarette between his lips, he turned the steering wheel onto the road and used his own lighter instead of the car’s electric cigarette lighter to light it. Most of the smoke escaped through the half-open window.
“I heard you didn’t major in it, but are you painting now?”
“Yes, now…”
I had heard from Juhan Hyung that he had asked Teacher about me, but I didn’t think Teacher had told him everything. Teacher wasn’t someone who easily revealed details about others’ pasts beyond a certain point, and I was practically in hiding myself.
Was he asking me a polite question now? After only our third meeting? He wasn’t the type to go to such lengths just to avoid awkwardness in this confined space.
As I was lost in such thoughts, idly gazing out the window, he exhaled the cigarette smoke and asked another question.
“Manager Han offered you a live-in position, didn’t he?”
This was the main point.
“I’ll be honest.”
“……”
“Even if we had contact when we were young, it was brief, and we’ve lived separate lives since. For someone like that to move into my home and live together… from my perspective, I’m worried.”
Even though he paused briefly, it wasn’t because he was considering my feelings as he listened. It was simply a pause to inhale his cigarette.
“Manager Han likes you a lot and trusts you, so I don’t think my words will carry much weight. That’s why I’m asking you directly.”
It took a while to get to my house from Teacher’s place by public transport, but it wasn’t far by car. The roads, just past rush hour, were still busy, and the car stopped at a red light, heading straight towards the War Memorial.
He held the top of the steering wheel with both hands, leaning his upper body forward slightly, and turned to look at me. I met his gaze without flinching. The cigarette in his left hand seemed close enough to touch my hair.
“I want you to have a safe, peaceful, and secure life. Okay? Seo Yi-hyun.”
He, who had seemed like a symbol of the Golden Alpha world, untouched by dirt or grime, suddenly appeared like someone from the underworld, willing to resort to threats and underhanded tactics to get what he wanted. He seemed more convincing than the director of the private investigator agency that had helped us get a burner phone and find a place.
As I felt on the first day, he was someone who, for the sake of those precious to him, paid no mind to the feelings of those outside that circle. He wasn’t considering my feelings at all, or the possibility that I might come to dislike or despise him because of such rude behavior. It didn’t matter if I disliked him.
With the green light, the car started moving again. As we turned into an alley before entering the Namsan Tunnel and drove up a winding hillside road, I stared intently at his profile, not bothering to hide it.
He couldn’t have missed my gaze, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable or bothered by it at all.
What was I supposed to say? ‘Yes, I understand. I won’t do anything to Teacher’?
It felt strange to make a promise about something I had no intention of doing in the first place. Such a promise itself felt like an admission that I might have been a threat to Teacher, and I didn’t want to make it.
It was surprising that he knew my name, following my age. I had certainly never expected to hear it from him like this.
As I withdrew my gaze from his profile, which was calmly focused on driving, his phone rang. He looked down at the phone, which vibrated softly, checked the caller ID, clicked his tongue as if annoyed, and answered.
“Uh… yeah, I stopped by… No, not now… I’m driving.”
Though I knew only a tiny fraction of his relationships, his dismissive attitude suggested it was a call from the man in the passenger seat or someone similar.
He paused for a moment, glancing at me, as if listening to what the other person was saying.
“No one’s here. I’ll be there on time, so hang up.”
「It’s an errand boy.」
「Am I the same as that guy?」
「No one’s here.」
His words, pointing at me, connected in my head like a series. As expected, after the call ended, there was no explanation or apology for making me seem like I didn’t exist when I clearly did.
The church, with its impressive scale that didn’t quite fit this neighborhood, was now right ahead.
“You can stop there. In front of the stairs.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt as the car began to slow down. He pulled over a little distance from the bus stop.
“I have a question.”
“About me?”
“Did you really treat Juhan Hyung like this too?”
His brow furrowed, his eyebrows drawing closer together. He looked like he didn’t understand what I was talking about. Perhaps he forgot the person who hit him, but easily remembered the one who was hit. My brother had even thought about running away after scratching your car.
Now, I could perfectly understand my brother’s words that he felt you would chase him down to get revenge, no matter how far. I had received a warning, close to a threat, from him, who looked like a boss from the underworld.
“Don’t worry about Teacher… Manager Han.”
He rested his left arm on the steering wheel and turned his upper body towards me, looking at me with an expression like he was being bothered by a stranger on the street spouting nonsense.
“I’m gay.”
I don’t know why I said that. Gay or not, I’d never dated, never liked anyone.
But seeing his expression, where not just his eyebrows but also his eyes beneath them twitched, I knew I had said the right thing. I just wanted to see him flustered.
“Well then, thank you for the ride.”
I bowed my head and gathered my bag, stepping out of the car. I wanted to look back several times as I climbed the stairs, but each time, I gripped my bag strap tighter and held myself back.
If I couldn’t hurt him, I wanted to shock him. He was a rock as hard as a diamond, and even if my thrown shock was just an egg, I wanted to make an impact.
■ ■ ■
“What are you drawing?”
I stopped drawing lines on the notebook Morae had torn for me with an economical three-color pen—red, blue, and black—and looked up. Morae was looking down at me, smiling.
“Nothing. My hands were just bored.”
The background, which looked like waves, flames, or a whirlpool, was dizzying even to me.
“Drink this. I bought it as a souvenir for your study abroad.”
Morae pushed a fruit punch, served in a large cup characteristic of ‘What Happened in Bali,’ towards me and sat down next to me. Leaving the cup on the table, she lowered her head, took a sip through the straw, and looked up at me. Study abroad?
“In the neighborhood, it’s being said I’ve gone abroad. More precisely, that I’ve gone to Seoul to prepare for study abroad.”
Drinking the cold beverage so quickly made my brow and nose wrinkle, and my eyes squint.
I heard she had commissioned a private investigator last week to find out what was happening after we left, and she must have received a response today.
“What about me and Hyung?”
“The situation is funny. It’s not just Seo Yi-han and I who disappeared, but you too, making it three of us. The adults seem to think that’s a relief. I’m supposedly in Seoul preparing for study abroad, and you and Seo Yi-han were offered good opportunities and rushed off to Yeongdeok to earn money. That’s the situation now. They’re saying our family deliberately separated us.”
They could spin it like that, I thought. After all, even before we ran away, ‘Mr. Im’ had been creating tension as if something was about to happen. Though, in reality, Morae was the one who caused the first incident.
“Even so, who would believe that? Even if it were true, most people would write their own novel and spread it, wanting to believe it’s the hidden truth. They know no one believes it, but is their shallow pride that important….”
Morae murmured the last part, leaning back loosely against the bench.
“It’s like they’d jump into the Han River if they tried to find us… Maybe they can’t move rashly now, after I made such a fuss in my letter… but they’ll never give up like this.”
Morae took several refreshing gulps of the peach punch, her lips against the rim of the cup, not using the straw. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and added,
“We have to leave as soon as possible before that.”
I met Morae when she was in her third year of high school, and she was in conflict with her parents over college. Her parents wanted her to go to college, even a third-rate one nearby, but she wasn’t paying any attention, so it was hard to call it a conflict.
I heard from Hyung that her grades were excellent until her first and second years of middle school. But knowing too well what her parents expected of her, she began to postpone her rebellion to secure her freedom later.
She deliberately ruined her grades and chose to become a problem child. Her curfew got later, she decorated her room with posters of B-movies that looked rebellious and bizarre to her parents, and her fashion became slovenly. She often skipped classes to go surfing.
Thus, she transformed from a proud daughter with a promising future who excelled at everything into a troublesome youngest child, for whom the parents were just grateful if she stayed out of major trouble.
Her parents thought it was adolescent rebellion stemming from the confusion of being diagnosed as an Alpha, but it was entirely her choice.
“I’ll be where I want to be, with the people I want to be with. Since I’ll end up living as I please anyway, it’s not fair to give my parents false hope by being a good student… It’s better for them to start understanding now. That I have no intention of living the way you want me to.”
Morae had said that, but even when she turned twenty-four, her parents hadn’t accepted the situation. They were denying what she wanted and what kind of happiness she sought. They used the excuse that she was too young to make long-term, correct choices for her life.
Morae wasn’t interested in top universities or so-called ‘good jobs’ with high salaries. She had no intention of taking a position in her father’s various businesses, which generated billions of won in annual revenue.
What she desired was peace. A simple but authentic life, surrounded by the things she loved, filled with healthy laughter and gratitude.
Waves, warm weather, and Seo Yi-han. A bottle of beer and a surfboard. A paperback copy of a favorite book. That was all she wanted. She was capable because she didn’t need more than that to be happy.
“My dad is also living as usual.”
“Mm… Thank you.”
Morae, who had been gazing at the tip of my pen, smiled and reached out, lightly ruffling my hair. Then, letting her hand drop, she wrapped an arm around my shoulder and rested her temple on my other shoulder.
We sat side-by-side facing the front of the cafe. The folding front window was wide open, allowing us to see the street through the green leaves of the plants decorating the cafe. Relaxing exotic music with ukulele melodies played, and at the very front table facing the alley, a group of about three or four people, who looked my age, laughed incessantly. It was peaceful.
If Hyung and Morae opened a cafe on a southern island, it would probably feel like this.
Open to anyone passing by, not necessarily sophisticated or trendy, but infused with the owner’s taste and life, completely unforced, where one could dive into the sea right in front with a surfboard during quiet hours.
Hyung and Morae’s final destination for their escape wasn’t Seoul. From here, they could always return to the starting point. Although they had bought some time thanks to Morae’s sharp letter and the skilled private investigator, they couldn’t be at ease.
The two of them had to leave soon for a place with warm weather and waves. It was their long-held dream. A dream of two people who had belonged only to each other since they were much younger, and who found it most natural and comfortable to see the world through each other. This escape was merely a course in the process of reaching that dream.
And perhaps that was the significant reason they decided to move into the Teacher’s house.
If I couldn’t decide on a path, they probably wouldn’t be able to leave easily even after all preparations were complete. And perhaps, they might even suggest leaving together again to me, who couldn’t decide. They probably would.
We had come this far together, but I couldn’t defer the choices of my journey to them, like a supplementary DD to their lives, in the same way. Even if we were to leave together, it shouldn’t be an option chosen because I had no other idea of what to do. I knew that much for sure.
It was one thing I had resolved and prepared for since leaving the gate with Hyung, leaving my father, who didn’t stop me, behind on that rainy dawn.
Juhan Hyung, who was outed in a sordid manner and practically disowned by his family (it was hard to even imagine how it felt to have his most private and secret self laid bare to his parents), Yooni Noona, whose difficult step towards her dream was thwarted not by anyone else but by her parents, though I didn’t hear the details, and Morae and Hyung, who were the closest beings to me, were all paying a harsh price for choices they were in no way guilty of.
It wasn’t just me who was played with, toyed with, and thrown around by the inexplicable malice of life, hurt and wounded, regardless of my own will.
Even the representative of Phantom, who could seemingly pull anything he desired to his side with just a flick of his finger, must have endured insults like ‘Satan’ or ‘a male prostitute who sells his body for art’ to bring Phantom to where it is today.
An attack that suddenly intruded into life one day.
Whether to overcome it, be held back and sink by it, or accept it as a part of oneself, like an eleventh finger or a large lump on one’s side, it was time for me to decide on my stance as well.
As far as I knew, Morae and Hyung, Yooni Noona, and Juhan Hyung were people trying to confront the attack. Although the direction and color of their responses differed slightly, they were similar in that I couldn’t find the grim traces of harsh tackles on their faces.
But the texture of Phantom’s representative was different from theirs.
From a passing remark Juhan Hyung made, I could infer that he wasn’t a prince who had only passed through glorious moments as dazzling as his polished looks. If so, perhaps he wasn’t someone who had overcome life’s attacks, but someone who lived carrying them as part of himself. Like becoming a zombie after being attacked by one?
He often treated me with a sharp wariness, yet at other times, he would act as if I were an insignificant being incapable of harming anyone, no matter how hard I tried.
The tremor that rose in my chest whenever he touched me with his inconsiderate gaze and words was less sharp than defiance, and not so weak as mere disappointment.
Originally, I was the type of person who would just turn away when someone cursed at me or got angry. Had I been mistaken about myself all this time?
“Noona, did I used to like unusual things?”
Perhaps someone else might know a facet of myself that I had misunderstood or overlooked. I asked Morae, filling the paper more densely.
“You tend to, don’t you?”
“Me?”
At the unexpected answer, I reflexively asked back, and Morae lifted her head from my shoulder to look at my face.
“You like Kkachi the most among the Crayon Shin-chan characters. Not many people do. And your t-shirts. You always wear stripes, right? Short sleeves in summer, long sleeves in winter, but they’re all stripes. You’re subtly unusual. Many kids who draw are unusual too.”
“It’s been ages since I drew…”
“Ah… so you’re not drawing now, but writing, then?”
At the accurate observation, I felt awkward and pursed my lips, smiling and averting my gaze. This is just doodling…
“Then… am I the type who likes being bullied?”
“Where did you hear such a thing? Are you talking about masochism?”
“What? Who taught you such nonsense?”
Hyung, who came out with a plate of Nasi Goreng from the kitchen, scowled at the word masochist.
Since tomorrow was the day we were moving into the Teacher’s house, Morae and Hyung called me to ‘What Happened in Bali’ for a farewell party. It felt awkward to have such a farewell party when I wasn’t quitting my job or transferring schools, but even if I pretended not to attach any significance to it, I too was sad about this parting.
Hyung’s eyes narrowed as if he were ready to go find the person who taught me such a harmful word as masochist and grab him by the collar.
“What’s wrong with teaching such things? They’re adults. Whatever they do in bed with a compatible partner is a freedom of their utterly private domain.”
It was Morae’s defense.
No matter how much Morae and Hyung thought of me as a rare species cut off from the world, I was old enough to know terms like sadist or masochist from overheard snippets here and there, without anyone explicitly teaching me.
Taking the spoon Hyung offered, I urged Morae on.
“So, Noona… am I like that?”
I couldn’t expect an objective answer from Hyung anyway.
“Hmm, rather than enjoying it, I think you’re the type who doesn’t mind being teased? Because there’s no reaction, it’s not very rewarding to tease you.”
I agreed with Morae’s assessment. Until now, I had lived thinking of myself as such a person, perhaps even numbly indifferent. At least, I thought I had become that kind of person.
But my recent reactions were unfamiliar even to myself.
“Um, I’m gay.”
That audacious statement, hard to expect from me until recently, was almost a provocation.
“Why? Does it feel thrilling when someone bullies you?”
Morae leaned her upper body towards me, who was about to take a bite, resting her elbows on the table. Her face was full of mischief and curiosity.
“No… it’s not like that.”
There were times when it felt like a sharp prick under my fingernail, but it was different from thrill. It was similar to the feeling of my whole body jolting upwards, like going over a speed bump without slowing down. A childish spite would arise, wanting to take his hand and prick his fingernail with the tip of a needle, just like that.
Just as his attitude towards me was inconsistent, I found it difficult to pinpoint the reason for my own reactions in one direction.
Overwhelmed by hunger, I had no energy left to think about anything else. I started eating ravenously, while Morae and Hyung sorted out the day’s receipts at the next table.
The owner of ‘What Happened in Bali,’ who would leave for Bali to travel and surf once a certain amount of money was accumulated from operating the business, had left for Bali the previous week, so Morae and Hyung had been acting as the store’s representatives since then.
As I was almost finishing my plate, Hyung spoke in a much softer voice than before.
“Even if you move out, come visit. Come here, and come to our place too.”
“Of course. I’ll come and chatter so much it’ll be annoying. I don’t have anywhere else to pour out my stories if not here.”
“Funny. You’re not that talkative.”
Hyung chuckled and lightly chided me, and I smiled back in agreement.
“You have to come at least once a week. Got it? And send me a text every day.”
This time it was Morae’s threat. I knew it was a demand born from her concern that I would be lonely, not for herself. I nodded vigorously, and Morae smiled.
That day, we had samgyeopsal and soju at ‘What Happened in Bali,’ and at home, we drank more beer. It was a small luxury for us, the first time we indulged in such a treat since coming to Seoul. It was also the first time we drank until we were beyond tipsy, until we were truly drunk.
The next day, Morae and Hyung told me that I became very submissive and laughed a lot when I drank. Hyung, citing his rights as Morae’s boyfriend, rarely kicked me in the butt with his knee, saying I had even kissed Morae on the cheek.
Though it wasn’t much of a move, I had cleared my schedule for movers anyway, as it was the day I was changing residences. After a shared breakfast, we packed all our belongings into one backpack, and Morae, Hyung, and I left the house and parted ways at the bus stop. I headed south towards the Teacher’s house, while Morae and Hyung headed west to work at ‘What Happened in Bali.’
The rooftop room, and ‘What Happened in Bali,’ were places I could visit anytime if I made up my mind, but now they were becoming places I had to make an effort to go to.
As I got on the bus and watched the receding scenery, I felt strange about moving somewhere alone, separated from Hyung and Morae. It felt less like moving and more like embarking on a journey. A very long journey.