By Zephyria Song Hyun-soo hadn’t expected to feel relief just from connecting with Yoon Joo-ho on the phone. Until now, the only person who had evoked such feelings in Song Hyun-soo, someone he could rely on even a little, was Jung Ji-in.
Casually poking the corner of the pillow he was hugging, Song Hyun-soo said in a sulky voice, “Why aren’t you asleep? You should be sleeping after sending me away twice.”
[And you.]
“I watched a movie.”
[What movie at this hour.]
“…”
[Shall I guess?]
What movie you watched, unable to sleep after I left your place. I know that much. A hint of laughter mixed into his hoarse voice. But this time, it wasn’t annoying. He was too consumed by thoughts of Yoon Joo-ho to feel that way.
“Yes, I watched it. I watched .”
Instead of arguing that his guess was wrong, Song Hyun-soo admitted it cleanly.
He couldn’t resist the urge to know you better, so he had no choice but to watch that movie.
[How was it?]
After a breath that sounded like he was sitting up, the faint sound of a lighter striking flint could be heard.
Pulling the drawstring of the hood of his hoodie, Song Hyun-soo focused all his attention on the phone. He didn’t want to miss a single small sound.
“I envied Ah-bi.”
[In what way.]
“His adoptive mother clearly tells him. She says she’s not telling him who his birth mother is because she’s afraid he’ll forget her if he finds her. At least his adoptive mother loved Ah-bi enough to be that possessive. Even if it was a twisted love.”
The breath, inhaling the filter and exhaling smoke, calmed Song Hyun-soo. The confession continued naturally.
“When I was young, I sometimes imagined. What if Grandma was my mother, and Grandpa was my father?”
[…]
“My father, who evaporated the moment he knew my mother was pregnant, and my mother, who left me the moment I was born. I thought those stories were all made up. I wished Grandma and Grandpa were my real parents.”
[…]
“The whole time I was watching the movie… I kept seeing myself.”
And your face, too.
“You liked this movie for the same reason, didn’t you, Senior?”
Because you couldn’t help but be reminded of yourself.
Even if you didn’t grow up without knowing your parents’ faces, you must have been just as starved for affection.
After a short breath of inhaling the smoke, Yoon Joo-ho replied in a dry voice, in his usual tone, unchanged.
[It’s because of Christopher Doyle’s cinematography?]
And, as expected, he changed the subject.
But he didn’t show any sign of discomfort at being suddenly told a dark story related to birth. Song Hyun-soo liked this side of Yoon Joo-ho. He might not be the type to warmly embrace others’ pain, but he didn’t offer hasty pity either. For Song Hyun-soo, that was better.
He grew up raised by his grandparents, without knowing his parents’ faces. But what if those grandparents weren’t his real grandparents either? — When people hear such stories, most become flustered and awkward. No matter how casually Song Hyun-soo mentioned it, the listener couldn’t help but react. It was something they didn’t need to worry about at all, and he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. ‘Oh, I see. Just let it go.’
He didn’t want pitying looks either. He preferred the same gaze as before. Like Yoon Joo-ho’s now.
“The visuals were definitely good, too. It was amazing how green could be so lonely and hollow.”
Green dominated the visuals throughout. Not the familiar green, bright, fresh, and full of life, but the green of a humid, misty, isolated tropical jungle. It was strange that green was chosen as the color to express solitude.
Song Hyun-soo felt a little embarrassed by the unexpected burst of laughter from the other end of the phone.
“Why are you laughing?”
[You say Baek Kang is like Lee San’s first love. Your interpretations are interesting.]
“Me?”
[Yes.]
“Maybe… it’s because I’m ignorant. I just say what I see because I don’t know anything. Just anything.”
[Who’s knowledgeable? I’m a high school dropout too.]
“You didn’t go to college because you wanted to focus on acting. It’s different from me. You use difficult words sometimes.”
[That’s thanks to the scripts I’ve read my whole life.]
After a short breath of inhaling the filter, Yoon Joo-ho added.
[It’s a good thing that it’s interesting. Whatever the reason, an actor needs their own perspective. Or at least the effort to gain one.]
Knowing that he would never say empty words about acting, Song Hyun-soo’s lips twitched at Yoon Joo-ho’s acknowledgment. He pulled the hood’s drawstring and crumpled the pillow between his legs. For some reason, his body felt itchy all over.
“Still, that Leslie Cheung line was a bit, really cheesy.”
[What line.]
“The one about the watch.”
[Ah…]
Yoon Joo-ho chuckled and exclaimed, as if he knew what he was talking about. Song Hyun-soo could almost picture him nodding. When Yoon Joo-ho laughed, Song Hyun-soo just laughed too. He giggled silently, trying not to be heard, and kept pulling the drawstring of the hood. It was so tight it was almost choking him.
After a short laugh, Yoon Joo-ho cleared his throat.
[Is that so? I thought it was quite passable.]
“That’s only because it was Leslie Cheung’s face that made it passable.”
[What about me? Can’t my face do it?]
“…”
Look at him, asking that when he knows everything.
Ha, but… I want to see that shameless face that asks even though he knows everything. Why on earth did I insist on going home?
“That’s a line you’ve probably used on dozens of people exactly the same way. Suri-jin fell for that line because she was naive.”
[So it wouldn’t work on a brazen BB gun, then?]
“Are you going to keep calling me a BB gun?”
[You don’t like it?]
“You said earlier that calling me a BB gun might not be appropriate. You said I was in the top three.”
[You might have forgotten, but you were the one who called me a BB gun first.]
“Ah, that was about being outmatched in sexiness! Honestly, while I might be second to you, I’m definitely not someone to be looked down on in terms of size!”
[I know. I put it in my mouth and sent it off, how could I not know?]
“Then why am I still a BB gun.”
[Well…]
As Yoon Joo-ho drew out his words, the sounds of the world seeped in. Cars driving on the Gangbyeonbuk-ro highway in the early morning, sirens fading from far away to even farther away. Those sounds suddenly became incredibly clear, then faded as Yoon Joo-ho spoke again.
[Well, just because you’re cu…]
Suddenly, goosebumps prickled Song Hyun-soo’s arms. His butt was warm from the electric blanket, and he was wearing a thick hoodie, so he wasn’t cold at all.
Could this man really be about to say ‘just because you’re cute’?
[Hey, why didn’t you answer my question earlier?]
Look at him changing the subject when he’s cornered. You’re surprised by your own words, aren’t you?
Song Hyun-soo was just as surprised. Even though they weren’t face-to-face, his face flushed hot. He loosened the tightened drawstring and pulled his hood down low. He acted nonchalant, using the anonymity of not being seen.
“Ah, of course, there’s no scene our Yoon Joo-ho Senior can’t pull off. If you become Leslie Cheung, then of course you can.”
[Trying to play it off as a joke when you mean it.]
Did you notice?
You’re more perceptive than I thought.
Surprisingly, they continued the call for over an hour like this.
They talked about the cats at ‘Honey’s place,’ wondered where the location shoot for ‘Myung Hae-ri,’ a fictional region and an important setting in
Like people who don’t want to hang up, bringing up one topic after another.
[Do you have work tomorrow?]
Yoon Joo-ho’s voice was now full of sleepiness.
“No, I don’t. I can just sleep in. I’ll hang up now.”
At this point, he felt like he’d fall asleep the moment he hung up. He had, to some extent, succeeded in putting Yoon Joo-ho to sleep.
[You worked hard making cocktails today.]
“I couldn’t make one for you in the end.”
[Next time. Something stronger than ‘Kiss of Fire’.]
“Okay, go to sleep.”
He hung up, hearing Yoon Joo-ho’s sleepy, slightly muffled laughter, as if he had a cold.
After ending the call, Song Hyun-soo looked down at his phone screen, unable to believe the call duration. It had been so long since he had a call this long.
He wondered why he had come home if he was going to hold onto the phone for over an hour.
No, if he had stayed at Yoon Joo-ho’s place, the aftermath would have been obvious.
They weren’t in a state where they could be next to each other and not reach out. Even if he didn’t think of Yoon Joo-ho as a romantic partner, he knew Yoon Joo-ho still had unfulfilled sexual desire for him. If he had stayed, they would have somehow managed to have intercourse, even if it meant forcing it.
Song Hyun-soo chuckled, pulling both sides of the drawstring of his hood tightly.
He felt that the confusion of realizing he liked Yoon Joo-ho had settled somewhat. He didn’t regret it.
Call duration: 1:17:08
Call ended at: 05:15
The day after Yoon Joo-ho’s 33rd birthday. 5:15 AM.
He had told Yoon Joo-ho that Ah-bi’s line to Suri-jin was cheesy. But Yoon Joo-ho, without uttering a single line, made Song Hyun-soo remember this moment forever.
“Look at my watch.
Today is… the 16th. April 16th.
April 16th, 1960, 1 minute before 3 AM.
Because of you, I will remember this moment forever. 1)”
■