By Zephyria The wide space filled with whistles and applause. Some people were cheering. They were all my teammates.
The collaboration was successfully completed. It was because the person in charge sent a message of gratitude along with a graph showing clear figures.
I stepped away from the rejoicing crowd and kept checking my email, where no more notifications were popping up.
It wasn’t like I was waiting for a specific contact.
New nourishment for survival had accumulated. I already knew every little period by heart, but I could still endure it. Because doing things with him, where our hearts touched as if it were company business, was nothing short of deception.
Yes, this was right.
“Hey, Sirius! Cheer up a bit more.”
The contact manager, who had approached my expressionless side, lightly tapped my shoulder. I was often uncomfortable with the strange sense of distance, even though she was a grateful person who willingly took over my work. Why was she acting so close?
I subtly moved away and replied politely.
“It’s all thanks to Dana’s good work.”
“When you first came, you couldn’t even say a word properly, but when did you start saying such pretty things? You worked the hardest. You took on most of the work. I just put my spoon on it. You did it all!”
She reached out to stretch my cheeks. Perhaps because she saw me as young because I was Asian, she kept trying to make physical contact. I turned my head just before Dana’s hand grabbed my cheek. The dangling hand in the air returned to its place in vain.
I pushed the chair back to maintain distance from her.
The work inbox, logged in with my usual ID, was on the screen. When contacting him, I deliberately used a different email address. To answer your messages quickly at any time. It was a good excuse.
There were even days when I accessed the secondary account more often than the main work account. No, it had always been like that since I saw his email introducing himself as Winter.
It was a ridiculous infatuation now. There was nowhere to show it off, and no one to acknowledge it. It was a thrilling and miserable memory that only I had to keep.
“…Was the person in charge on your side very happy too?”
Still, wouldn’t it be okay to casually ask about your news like this for a very short time? It wasn’t anything special. Since we had worked together for a long time, they would think that people from the same background were getting along intimately.
She asked, puzzled.
“Winter?”
“Yes.”
I paid more attention to my expression. Dana was quick-witted. She was one of the first people to know when rumors spread in the company. So, I had to act indifferently as if I were talking about everyday things. Without showing anything.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t say anything other than work-related things. He’s such a cold man. Just like our Sirius!”
Was I blinking properly? Did I blink a little too fast just now?
Dana put her hand on my shoulder again. My head was spinning busily. Even while talking about you, I was out of breath. My heart was pounding. It was something I often experienced since you expressed your feelings as if pouring them out.
“…Is that so?”
Ah, I made a mistake.
My reaction was too slow just now. A lively look entered Dana’s languid eyes.
I hurriedly turned my head and looked at the screen. Even though there were no more emails from clients, I mechanically pressed the refresh button. The monitor was filled with white for a moment before returning to the original screen.
The inbox hadn’t changed.
It was obvious that it looked unnatural, but I couldn’t think of any other action. I just rolled the mouse wheel a couple of times.
“Did you get along with him differently from me?”
I swallowed, pretending to be nonchalant even at Dana’s subtle tone.
It was a story that even Gyeoul didn’t know. That you and I were accidentally connected even during the period of disconnection. As always, I messed up again plausibly. Now it was irreversible.
Even in Gyeoul’s last email, I could feel an uncomfortable feeling. A clear line was drawn. The previous affable and friendly he was gone.
I still didn’t know how to care for him. Other than running away like this… After directly confirming that he could only be happy if I disappeared, I didn’t have the confidence to be by his side. I was in despair. There was nothing I could do in front of a firm answer.
I was his unhappiness. So, I had to leave.
“Not really. That’s how collaborative relationships are.”
I said, brushing it off as if the topic of conversation was boring.
I gathered the data that I had already checked again and tapped it on the desk to organize it neatly. Dana didn’t take away her suspicious gaze, but she didn’t seem to have any intention of digging deeper.
Even though I suddenly asked her to take over the work.
She moved away from me with light steps at Simon’s call. I rubbed the sweat on my palms on my pants. It was obvious that she wouldn’t be fooled by this pathetic acting, but the conversation was cut off at a very good timing.
I habitually switched accounts. The inbox, where no new emails had arrived since the day he left New York, was full of only gray. I clicked on one of them and savored the sentences where Gyeoul’s intimacy was melted. It was a newly created habit in the meantime.
p.s. If you ever come to Seattle, please give me the opportunity to introduce you to this place. I’m sure it will be fun with Mr. Sirius. Of course, I don’t know much about this place either, so we’ll have to learn together. Do you have any plans to come to Seattle?
Dana said that. ‘Winter’ doesn’t talk about personal things.
But the he I knew was different. Winter was still kind and lovely. He resembled a green summer as if the scent of fresh grass would come out. Gyeoul and Winter were both like that. Like the day he first reached out to me, he approached me again in a friendly manner.
That such a kind Gyeoul acted coldly? Then she must have done something wrong.
p.s. Sirius, are you getting along well with other people in the company? I’m asking out of concern. If there’s anyone bothering you, please tell me. Well… Actually, even if there is, there’s nothing I can do for you. But we’re quite close, so I’ll be a hill where you can rest your heart.
A question arose in that moment. Even if you knew that Sirius was me, would you have decided to be my hill?
I squeezed my eyes shut at my ugly appearance. It seemed like this was the limit I could handle today. I didn’t have the energy to watch Gyeoul’s readily offered favor. I kept thinking of myself, who was thrilled with joy, entangled with guilt and anticipation.
It felt like a scene from the future that could have been newly built if our relationship turned as white as a blank sheet of paper again. Such assumptions only turned white and scattered messily.
All love had an end. Our relationship just ended in such a mess.
If I had finished it properly. If I had made an explanation. No… If we hadn’t broken up.
I closed the laptop and got up from my seat. I could do the overtime work at home. Today was the last day I came out for the project, so there was no reason to stay any longer.
‘I should go home quickly.’
I had to make wounds on my healthy body and breathe through the holes I made. Like gills.
I wanted to fall to the very bottom, where the bottom was. Since it was already broken. But the deeper I went, the more irreversible it became, and the end was not visible. The wounds on my body were the same. They only got deeper.
I packed my belongings into the backpack I brought. The noisy atmosphere reminded me of the school that remained in my memory rather than the company. I mingled in the sticky atmosphere, but then I was rejected as a strange outsider like now.
It felt like there was no place for me here either, and I felt suffocated.
“Are you going home?”
“Yeah.”
“Why, it seems like we’re going for a drink today. Let’s go together.”
Victor, who was sitting next to me, spoke to me. He was the same age as me, so we had become quite close, starting to exchange words comfortably without formalities.
“I haven’t even finished the project.”
“What are you talking about? You did all the backend work. You even stayed up all night to meet the unreasonable schedule.”
“…That was a matter of course.”
Victor snorted. It didn’t seem like the excuse that I was fond of it because it was a project I had been in charge of since I was in Korea would work. He was right. I somehow managed to handle even the unreasonable schedule. There were even days when I didn’t sleep at all to do that.
‘But why.’
It was a matter of course for me. Because it was a company where Gyeoul was. Because he was the person in charge.
Even when I had to scrap all the work that I had been holding on to for weeks due to his mistake, and even when I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t recycle that work at all, the option of being impossible didn’t exist.
I had to do it, and I eventually completed it. Perfectly.
“How is that a matter of course? It was a collaboration conducted in an equal relationship.”