“Hyung.”
Lee A-gon called out to Park Hae-jun, whose eyes were quivering with surprise, in an extremely low voice. It was a cold, damp voice like soil in the shade soaked with rainwater.
“Where were you?”
“Huh?”
“I asked where you’ve been all this time.”
“Oh, that.”
For some reason, Park Hae-jun felt so tense his fingertips tingled. Why was he so nervous when he knew the man standing before him was Lee A-gon?
Park Hae-jun tried to speak normally, “Someone I know said they were short-staffed at a filming site, so I went to work there urgently. I was in South Jeolla Province and was too busy to check my phone much.”
“……”
“Did you call a lot? Sorry. I didn’t bring my charger, so my phone died.”
“……”
“And… like you said, I wasn’t alone with any men.”
Park Hae-jun added, watching Lee A-gon’s reaction. He felt like he was giving in, since he had left after fighting about being alone with men, but calming Lee A-gon was the priority now. Lee A-gon’s demeanor was that unsettling.
Drip. A large droplet slid down Lee A-gon’s cheek and fell. Only then did Park Hae-jun notice that Lee A-gon was completely soaked from the rain.
“Hey, how could you come in wearing shoes!”
Following the falling droplet with his gaze, Park Hae-jun realized Lee A-gon was still wearing his shoes.
Wow, this wasn’t right.
Park Hae-jun’s mind, which had been entranced by Lee A-gon’s eerie atmosphere, became clear. Wearing shoes inside the house—this was unacceptable for a Korean.
“Take off your shoes right now. No matter how messy the house is, you don’t wear shoes inside. Take off your shoes and change your clothes quickly. You’ll catch a cold. Seriously.”
Just then, Lee A-gon grabbed Park Hae-jun’s shoulder as he was grumbling. A chill seemed to seep through where he was caught.
“Hyung.”
Lee A-gon seemed dark even though he was standing in front of the candlelight, as if the light couldn’t reach him. Park Hae-jun raised his hand holding the candle to see his face better.
“Why did you come back?”
“What do you mean?”
“You abandoned me.”
“Abandoned? No. I told you. I just went to work a part-time job.”
In the still indoor air, the candle flame bent sideways and then returned. A desolate breath was felt. Park Hae-jun swallowed.
“You abandoned me, hyung.”
The hand gripping his shoulder tightened. The fingertips seemed to dig into his shoulder.
“Lee A-gon, your hand…”
“I always knew it. That you would abandon me someday.”
“Lee A-gon, it hurts. Let go.”
“Be honest. Even if not now, you’ve been thinking about abandoning me someday… Right?”
The additional words sounded like a whisper. Thin sweat broke out as if a very cold, damp tongue had licked the back of his neck.
“Lee A-gon. You seem to be misunderstanding something.”
While Park Hae-jun was trying his best to convince Lee A-gon, the candle went out without warning. As darkness suddenly descended, Park Hae-jun froze upright, holding his breath.
“I did everything you wanted. I acted exactly the way you wanted me to.” Lee A-gon said.
Strangely, his voice seemed to be coming from higher and higher, or so Park Hae-jun imagined.
“Lee A-gon?”
Park Hae-jun scanned his surroundings with trembling eyes. Through the window at the end of the hallway, the lights of the city were dimly shining in. It wasn’t complete darkness. Not yet.
“I was good, just like you wanted. I said I’d date you. So why did you betray me?”
“Lee A-gon, ah? Lee A-gon…”
His heart began to beat violently. Park Hae-jun felt for Lee A-gon’s hand on his shoulder. But there was no hand there. Lee A-gon had moved away from him.
Then panic began to set in. Park Hae-jun frantically searched his pockets. He was sure he had put the lighter in there. When he turned his pocket inside out, coins and miscellaneous receipts spilled out. Park Hae-jun felt like he would cry.
“Lee A-gon, please help me find the lighter.”
His voice trembled as he asked for help. He finally found the lighter, but in the process of trying to light it, he dropped it.
Park Hae-jun crawled on the floor searching for the lighter. After fumbling around for a while, there was a thud from somewhere, and the lighter rolled down the stairs.
“Ah!”
He reached out too late and couldn’t catch the lighter. It fell into the broken glass and electronic debris at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ah. Ah.”
Park Hae-jun blinked and twitched slightly. He desperately looked at the faint light coming through the hallway window. He needed to calm down. Then he could go downstairs and find the lighter.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” Lee A-gon asked then.
His voice had somehow gotten closer. Park Hae-jun searched for the invisible Lee A-gon with tear-wet eyes.
“Yes, Lee A-gon, so please, go downstairs and find the lighter? Please.” Park Hae-jun pleaded.
Lee A-gon reached out and touched Park Hae-jun’s face. Park Hae-jun leaned his forehead against that hand. Feeling another person’s flesh gave him some comfort.
Soon after, that hand caressed Park Hae-jun’s eyes and withdrew. As he slowly raised his head, Park Hae-jun was seized by maddening terror.
He couldn’t see anything. Even the faint light that had illuminated the window frame was gone. It was complete darkness. The world was all black, as if ink had been spilled everywhere.
“Huk.”
Park Hae-jun clutched his throat. He couldn’t breathe.
“Heuk, heuerk.” The sound of air escaping came from his throat.
“Lee A-gon. Lee A-gon.”
Park Hae-jun collapsed, calling the name of the only other person in this space. The darkness where nothing could be seen terrified him. This place was underground. A dark place with thin air. A precarious space that could collapse with the slightest impact.
Park Hae-jun was trapped there alone.
In that deep, dark underground where light was swallowed and air disappeared.
∞ ∞ ∞
Lee A-gon was a genius. He could deliver long dialogues that ran over two pages without ever breaking them. The director, who had intended to cut in the middle, praised and commended Lee A-gon’s acting.
Park Hae-jun broke up even two-line dialogues. The director sighed and decided to edit Park Hae-jun’s scenes with cuts.
Lee A-gon was a fool. He could handle long dialogues effortlessly but didn’t know how to play games on a phone.
The director said he would send the child who got along best with the protagonist Lee A-gon to the extended shoot. So Park Hae-jun decided to become friends with Lee A-gon. He approached Lee A-gon casually and asked if he knew how to play phone games.
“I’m only eight years old, so they say I can’t. They said they’ll switch me to a smartphone when I turn ten.”
Lee A-gon couldn’t play phone games. No, he was unable to. He was still using an old 2G phone. That phone could only make calls and send texts.
“Don’t you watch YouToo?”
“No.” Lee A-gon shook his head.
“Wow,” Park Hae-jun’s mouth fell open. “Then what do you do during breaks?”
“I read books.”
“Books? You read books?”
None of Park Hae-jun’s peers read books. During breaks, everyone watched videos or played games. Some were already gambling with game currency.
After seeing only such friends, Park Hae-jun was speechless when Lee A-gon asked how to play games on a phone. Lee A-gon was too innocent. And stupid.
What should I play with him then?
Park Hae-jun didn’t know how to play with innocent children. Without a smartphone, they couldn’t play games together, and not knowing what videos he liked, there was nothing to talk about. Park Hae-jun grew anxious. He needed to befriend this kid somehow. That was the only way to get into the extended shoot.
“Then do you want to watch this with me? It’s really fun.”
Park Hae-jun played a video on his phone and handed it to Lee A-gon. They were videos of idols or cheerleaders dancing. Women in short skirts swayed gently, their skirts dangling precariously with each movement.
After watching about five such videos, Lee A-gon asked Park Hae-jun
“You don’t?”
Lee A-gon nodded. And gazed at Park Hae-jun with clear, large eyes.
“You don’t like this?”
Park Hae-jun was bewildered. All the boys he knew liked these videos. Some even edited and collected moments when an idol’s skirt flipped over. Having many such videos could make you popular.
To be honest, Park Hae-jun didn’t really like these videos either. But to hang out with friends, he had to pretend to like them. Because all the boys he knew liked them. If you didn’t like them, you were treated as strange.
In the silence, only the idol songs played loudly. Park Hae-jun turned off his phone and put it in his pocket. He felt awkward.
What now?
He needed to befriend this kid to get the extended role, but there was nothing they could do together. Park Hae-jun just fidgeted with his fingers. Lee A-gon kept silently watching him, and the silence grew heavier.
“Hey, do you want to play rock-paper-scissors and forehead flicking with me?”
Park Hae-jun, unable to bear the awkward silence, blurted out the first thing that came to mind, then hung his head in embarrassment. Rock-paper-scissors forehead flicking? They weren’t kindergarteners.
“Yeah, I’d like to.”
But surprisingly, Lee A-gon wanted to play this game. Park Hae-jun ended up playing rock-paper-scissors by chance.
“Rock, paper, scissors!”
Park Hae-jun showed paper. Half a beat late, Lee A-gon showed a fist. Park Hae-jun grinned triumphantly.
“I won. Here, offer your forehead.”
He pressed his middle finger with his thumb and released it, using the rebound to flick. There was a sharp sound.
Rubbing the spot that was hit, Lee A-gon muttered a small “Ouch.”
“Let’s go again. Rock, paper, scissors!”
This time Lee A-gon showed paper. Park Hae-jun had scissors. As Park Hae-jun approached with a grin, Lee A-gon obediently offered his forehead again.
“Let’s go again. Rock, paper, scissors!”
Park Hae-jun won twelve times in a row. Lee A-gon was incredibly bad at rock-paper-scissors. Even after getting hit on the forehead twelve times, he didn’t complain or get angry. Like a fool, he just rubbed his reddened forehead, and when Park Hae-jun suggested playing again, he would belatedly show what Park Hae-jun had shown in the previous round.
By this point, even Park Hae-jun lost interest. At this rate, they were more likely to become enemies than friends.