By Zephyria 
“Mmm….”
Tossing and turning beneath the heavy winter duvet, Haon peeked his head out. Only after confirming he was in a familiar space did his anxiously flickering eyes settle.
For a moment, he thought he was in a different bedroom because the duvet had changed. Haon fiddled with the deep charcoal-colored blanket—instead of the white one he usually slept with—before pushing himself up.
He didn’t know why the duvet had been changed overnight, nor did he know when he had fallen asleep.
His last memory was of drinking and chatting about various things with In-ho. Haon had no recollection of walking to the bed on his own.
“Wine is scary….”
Reflecting on how he had underestimated the alcohol that tasted as sweet as juice, Haon climbed out of bed. He walked unsteadily to the window, checked the still gloomy sky, and then headed out into the living room.
He had intended to ask In-ho about the previous night, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Seeing that the lights upstairs were off, it seemed he had gone out.
Just how long had he slept?
Staring at the window, which gave no clue as to the time, he massaged his stiff lower back.
He felt as though he had slept soundly for quite a while, but strangely, the pain in his body remained. Moreover, the soreness in that place felt even worse than yesterday; he instinctively tightened his glutes and looked around. He felt embarrassed for no reason, even though no one was watching.
Anyway, what had they talked about?
Rubbing his stinging eyes, he walked slowly toward the kitchen. He felt like his brain wouldn’t start working until he had at least a glass of water. Perhaps because he wasn’t fully awake yet, his mind was a complete blank.
“Ah.”
Then, after taking about two sips of lukewarm water, Haon’s eyes snapped wide open.
Setting the glass down, Haon held his heavy head and let out a long sigh that sounded like a groan. It wasn’t a sound of pain, but of regret.
“You idiot, you should have asked that….”
He remembered exchanging questions one by one with In-ho while tilting their glasses. A vague memory of mentioning his mother also began to surface. After that, he had absolutely no idea what conversation they had shared.
He tapped his foolish head and let out a series of sighs in frustration. He deeply regretted having personally kicked away a golden opportunity to learn more about In-ho.
If he hadn’t been so drunk, he would have asked everything. There was a mountain of things he wanted to know, yet the only information he had gained was about the man’s food preferences.
Of course, that was something he wanted to know, but there were far more curious things than that. For example, his occupation.
“Uh….”
While tapping his head in regret, Haon suddenly approached the dining table. A carton of soy milk sat lonely on the long table, accompanied by a small note.
He rushed over and quickly picked up the note. Straining his eyes, which were still puffy, he carefully read the short message.
[I’ve made some rice porridge, so eat it if you can. Your phone is on the bedside table.]
Haon beamed, reading In-ho’s thoughtful note over and over until it nearly wore out.
He thought it would have been nice if In-ho had written where he went, but realizing that was an excessive wish, he suppressed his greed. Just leaving a note was enough to make him happy.
Besides, he had prepared food for him again.
Glancing at the pot on the induction stove, he fiddled with the thin piece of paper. He didn’t feel like eating right this second, but since In-ho had prepared it, he wanted to at least taste it.
Thinking he could manage a bite or two, he grabbed a spoon and opened the lid of the pot.
Since the porridge was thin—almost like water—it wasn’t off-putting. Standing there, Haon scooped a bit of porridge into a bowl and filled his empty stomach.
Perhaps because he hadn’t eaten for nearly five days, it went down quite well. He also felt like it went down easily because In-ho had cooked it himself.
After immediately washing the bowl and spoon, he picked up the note again. In-ho’s handwriting was a bit different from what he had imagined. No, actually, it was quite different.
“His handwriting… is bad.”
Haon murmured the honest thought to himself and stifled a laugh. It wasn’t illegible, but it was a style that didn’t suit the perfect man. The lines were crooked, and the size of the letters varied.
To put it nicely, it was a style that reflected a free-spirited personality; to put it bluntly, it looked exactly like a child’s handwriting.
He laughed silently with his hand covering his mouth, then bit his lip, thinking it was rude.
Fortunately, his lips, which had developed rough scabs, no longer hurt. Aside from his cheeks and buttocks, the pain in his waist and limbs was negligible.
However, he grew a bit worried because his buttocks strangely felt more sore than yesterday.
Deciding he needed to check for himself, he returned to the room. Even on the way, he kept the corners of his mouth twitching as he read the note In-ho had left.
The more he looked at it, the more the curly handwriting looked like a drawing. It was closer to a scribble than a drawing, but in Haon’s eyes, it felt like a wonderful piece of art.
After closing the bedroom door firmly, he was about to pull down his pants when his gaze first landed on the bedside table. Staring blankly at his phone plugged into the charger, Haon suddenly gasped. Having lost all sense of the days of the week, he had only just remembered his weekend part-time job.
“I’m seriously crazy….”
Haon hurriedly grabbed his phone. The moment he checked the date, he felt a wave of despair so great that the strength left his legs. Saturday had already passed.
Thump, thump! He fell twice in a row before getting up and quickly changing his clothes. He stubbed his toe on the bathroom threshold, but he was in such a rush that he didn’t even feel the pain.
Haon left the room in a hurry after only brushing his teeth and washing his face. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to look in the mirror.
* * *
Fortunately, he caught a taxi quickly. As he climbed into the taxi and hurriedly tidied his messy hair, Haon’s mouth suddenly dropped open.
The taxi driver, glancing at him through the rearview mirror, asked upon seeing Haon’s pale face.
“What’s wrong? Did you leave something behind?”
He had left his phone. Even the wallet he always carried in his pocket.
“Ah… no.”
However, Haon shook his head and took a deep breath. The taxi had already gone past the base fare. Since he had no money to pay if he got out now, he had to go to the shop first.
Though it felt shameless, he clasped his hands as if praying, intending to borrow money from Tae-hwi hyung. Not only had he skipped work without notice, but he now had to borrow money.
Haon, who had never borrowed money from anyone in his life, felt his heart sink heavily. He didn’t even have the leisure to worry about the phone he left at home.
The thought that he hadn’t left a message for In-ho only occurred to him after he arrived at the shop.
* * *
“You can drop me off right there.”
Haon pointed to an old sign that read ‘A Glass of Beer.’ The closer he got to the shop, the more anxious he became. Since it was still daytime, the sign wasn’t lit, but the entrance was open. It seemed everyone had already clocked in.
“Driver, I’m really sorry, but….”
Before the driver, who had stopped the car, could press the payment button, Haon spoke up with a heavy heart.
“Actually, I left my wallet behind. Could you wait for just a moment?”
As he took off his thin coat, he added that he would leave the garment as collateral. The driver stared at Haon’s shabby coat with a skeptical expression.
“There’s more than one or two people who leave just a piece of clothing and then vanish….”
“This is the shop where I work. I’ll be back really quickly…!”
“Just leave your phone instead.”
With a troubled face, Haon pressed his flat pocket and confessed that he had left his phone behind as well. At this, the driver turned his head and looked closely at Haon’s face.
“Are you perhaps running away from somewhere?”
“What?”
“If that’s the case, go to the police station. There’s one right nearby.”
While a bewildered Haon tilted his head, someone tapped on the window. Tae-hwi, with his brow furrowed, was glaring into the taxi. He seemed to have come out because a car had parked in front of the shop entrance and no one was getting out.
“Eh, what. Is that Haon?”
Haon tried to open the door but, mindful of the driver, only rolled down the window. Surprised to see an unexpected face, Tae-hwi gave him a look that asked why he wasn’t getting out.
“It’s just… Hyung, I….”
He couldn’t bring himself to ask for money easily. It wasn’t hundreds of thousands of won, but an amount not even reaching thirty thousand, yet the act of asking someone for a favor felt incredibly difficult.
“I-I’m sorry, but.”
“Yeah, speak. What is it?”
Seeing Haon merely twitching his swollen lips and breaking into a cold sweat, even Tae-hwi became serious. Above all, Haon’s disheveled appearance made him even more tense.
“The student says he left his wallet.”
Unable to watch any longer, the taxi driver relayed Haon’s situation for him. “Huh?” Tae-hwi poked his head toward the window, and upon understanding the driver’s words, he rummaged through his own pocket.
“Driver, just a moment! I’ll go get the money!”
Explaining that his card was in his bag, he asked for the driver’s understanding and rushed headlong into the shop.
Looking at Tae-hwi’s retreating back as he tried to help without a moment’s hesitation, Haon’s nose tingled.
“We don’t have to go to the police station, right?”
The driver asked another random question. Haon, thinking the man believed he had lost his wallet and phone, replied that he was fine.
“No, not that. The student’s face—.”
Just then, a hand holding a card abruptly entered through the window. Seeing a hand far larger than Tae-hwi’s, Haon’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Please charge it to this.”
Startled, Haon looked up toward the deep voice. The moment he saw the owner of the voice, a look of bewilderment filled his round eyes.
It was a look that asked: Why is that person here?