Spark Chapter 1.2 - Spark

“Ha…”

A leisurely breath sank toward Go Baekwoo’s forehead. Go Baekwoo, his breathing constricted, raised his eyes, which felt as if they might pop out from the pressure.

“Ugh…”

It was the moment their gazes met.

“…”

Cha Hongjo tightened his grip. Go Baekwoo’s face contorted as he groaned. A single tear squeezed out from his reddened eyes. His blood-red lips, gasping for scarce breaths, parted wide. The convulsing Adam’s apple, as if screaming, was vividly felt under Cha Hongjo’s palm.

“Ha, damn, that expression’s nice.”

It was electrifying. Heat gathered in his groin while his spine chilled, skin tightening. Goosebumps rose. Cha Hongjo flicked out his tongue, licking his lower lip, and stroked the shaft up and down repeatedly. He was drunk, and the side dish was exquisite. His arousal surged rapidly.

“Hoo…”

Wiping the clear pre-cum from the tip with his palm, Cha Hongjo, who had been masturbating by circling the glans and twisting his wrist, soon released Go Baekwoo’s neck. It was when Go Baekwoo’s eyes, rolling back, finally showed only the whites.

“Cough… cough!”

As Go Baekwoo hacked dryly, trying to regulate his breathing, Cha Hongjo looked down at him with lukewarm eyes, continuing to knead the shaft.

“…”

Eventually, Go Baekwoo stopped coughing. At that moment, Cha Hongjo, with a sharp smirk, pressed the glans against the tear streak on his cheek. Go Baekwoo merely squinted one eye slightly, otherwise passively accepting the act of having a dick rubbed against his face.

“Ha… so docile, it makes you prettier.”

Murmuring, Cha Hongjo traced Go Baekwoo’s eye corner with the tip of the shaft. The hand gripping below the glans moved faster than before. The pre-cum leaking from the tip wet Go Baekwoo’s cheek in place of tears.

“Ah… damn…”

Though his throat wasn’t being choked, Cha Hongjo’s eyes grew as red as Go Baekwoo’s. He soon muttered a curse under his breath and slightly bent his waist. The engorged shaft tapped Go Baekwoo’s cheek dully, and Go Baekwoo closed his eyes completely.

Semen splattered messily over the elegant arch of his eyebrows, calmly shut eyelids, and dense eyelashes. It slid down his smooth cheekbones and cheeks.

“Hoo…”

Exhaling a satisfied, hot breath, Cha Hongjo wiped the remaining semen from his shaft with his fingers and smeared it around Go Baekwoo’s lips. Even then, Go Baekwoo kept his eyes tightly shut, remaining docile.

“Pretty boy, I made good use of your face.”

Cha Hongjo whispered, signaling the end of the crude, disrespectful act.

“…”

Only then did Go Baekwoo notice that the moans from the red video’s actors had grown intensely raw. Cha Hongjo’s presence faded. Creak, the door opened and closed. A little later, the sound of water came from the bathroom.

“…”

Lifting his sticky eyelids, Go Baekwoo gathered the semen on his lips, eyes, and cheeks with his fingers. Staring at Cha Hongjo’s semen, thickly pooled between his fingers, he…

“Ha.”

Twisted his lips into a smile.

“Docile and pretty…”

Muttering with a hint of amusement, the tip of his tongue slipped between his lips. Go Baekwoo licked Cha Hongjo’s traces. A man’s byproduct. It tasted bitter. Yet, it wasn’t repulsive. He felt he could lick it all up.

If I hadn’t been docile…

Over his semen-drenched palm, the image of Cha Hongjo, frowning at climax, lingered.

You cried with that face.

— Ugh… ugh! Ahh!

— Ah, ah!

The red video now featured only two characters. A man on all fours. Another man, domineeringly pressing down on his lower back, thrusting his shaft between his buttocks.

In Go Baekwoo’s vision, still observing this, Cha Hongjo’s image remained.

Turning his gaze toward the bathroom, Go Baekwoo clenched his fist. Cha Hongjo’s scent lingered everywhere. Biting his lip, he fixed his eyes on the linoleum floor. At nineteen, he was learning patience anew, unexpectedly.

“Docile and pretty…”

He had to remain the docile pretty boy for now. He knew little about Cha Hongjo beyond his name and age, but he couldn’t shake the impression that Cha Hongjo was the type to come and go easily.

It was just the beginning, and he couldn’t afford to let it slip away.

🔥

The 27th of every month. A day he had to skip school, even if it was a weekday.

Go Baekwoo woke up in sync with his mother’s rising time and washed. He scrubbed his body and hair with a single bar of soap. He brushed his teeth until they felt squeaky clean. Since it was before laundry day, only his school uniform and gym clothes remained, but after brief consideration, he wore a white t-shirt with gym pants.

The 27th of every month. The day the “big brother” came to collect protection money from his mother’s coffee shop.

The big brother, who had taken an interest in Go Baekwoo early on, expected him to show up to greet him on collection day. If Go Baekwoo didn’t appear, the big brother would inflate the protection fee with petty excuses, as if in retaliation. This had been the case since Go Baekwoo was seventeen, now three years running.

Three years ago, when the big brother first visited the coffee shop, Go Baekwoo’s mother had urged him not to get involved with thugs, saying the protection money and shop matters were her responsibility. But with few customers besides regulars, she couldn’t stop her son from “going to work” at the coffee shop instead of school on the 27th.

Thus, Go Baekwoo made it his routine on the 27th to greet the big brother in the morning and, in the evening, knock on his mother’s door, where she stifled her sobs so her son wouldn’t hear, offering her comfort.

“Baekwoo.”

Ever diligent. The “big brother,” namely Tae Pyunghyun, entered Promise Coffee Shop at exactly 7:30 a.m. As always, his lackey followed. Some days it was one, others two; today, it was two.

Go Baekwoo nodded curtly in greeting toward Tae Pyunghyun. In response, Tae Pyunghyun patted Go Baekwoo’s shoulder twice with his thick palm.

“Where’s the lady?”

It was laughable that someone unfairly extorting protection money pretended to care about his mother’s well-being. Go Baekwoo twisted his lips.

“She’s doing well.”

“Hasn’t come down yet?”

For some time now, on the 27th, his mother sent Go Baekwoo down first and only came to the shop after the collection was done.

Go Baekwoo shook his head slightly in reply.

“Alright.”

Not meeting the coffee shop’s lady wasn’t an issue. Tae Pyunghyun achieved his goal by collecting the protection money and checking on Go Baekwoo to report to the “biggest brother.”

“All done, Baekwoo.”

As if inspecting his own shop, Tae Pyunghyun scanned the coffee shop and sat at a window seat near the entrance. The two lackeys stood around him like utility poles, not sitting.

Seated like a king, Tae Pyunghyun gestured with his chin at Go Baekwoo.

“Go brew me a coffee.”

“…”

As the saying goes, a monk can’t shave his own head. Go Baekwoo had been the coffee shop’s son since fifteen but still didn’t know how to brew coffee—a fact Tae Pyunghyun knew well.

“Look at that face. Just sit.”

Finishing his dull, predictable joke, Tae Pyunghyun grinned, flashing a gold tooth, and nodded toward the empty seat opposite. Go Baekwoo sat, enduring the piercing glares of the two lackeys.

“By the way, don’t you know any kids with good faces?”

That topic again.

Go Baekwoo, slightly frowning, answered blandly.

“Nope.”

“Man, come on. It’s a mess at High. No usable faces.”

“High” referred to “High Entertainment,” an agency run by Geumyang Loans, where Tae Pyunghyun worked.

Whether he was oddly interested in the entertainment industry or not, Tae Pyunghyun always asked about “good faces” like it was a casual greeting whenever he met Go Baekwoo. And also.

“What about you? Still not interested?”

Probing whether Go Baekwoo would consider becoming an entertainer was another part of the routine.

Go Baekwoo didn’t want to waste time exchanging empty pleasantries with an unwelcome figure. Without a proper reply, he pulled an envelope from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“Good boy.”

Not expecting an answer anyway, Tae Pyunghyun quickly shifted his attention, picking up the envelope as if he’d been waiting for it. He immediately opened it to peek inside. The precious protection money wouldn’t have been handled carelessly, but it was a formal check.

After a quick inspection, Tae Pyunghyun handed the envelope to one lackey, saying, “Give me a smoke.” The burly, buzz-cut guy pulled out a cigarette and offered it respectfully with both hands. Taking it and lighting up, Tae Pyunghyun offered Go Baekwoo one too. Go Baekwoo didn’t refuse but declined the offered lighter, using a match from the shop to light the cigarette.

Staring at him, Tae Pyunghyun exhaled thick gray smoke and began.

“The lady’s got it tough, doesn’t she?”

“…”

Go Baekwoo could predict what Tae Pyunghyun would say next before he continued. It was the same spiel every collection day.

“It’s about time she rested. You’ll take care of her, right, Baekwoo?”

“Sure.”

“What’ll you do after graduation?”

“Anything.”

“So, what’ll you do?”

“Construction, maybe.”

“You know what I’m asking, and you always dodge like that, huh?”

Dissatisfied with the evasive answer, Tae Pyunghyun showed his displeasure. He seemed to want Go Baekwoo to promise to “learn the big brother’s trade,” but Go Baekwoo wouldn’t say it, even as a platitude. Though he vaguely assumed he’d end up as one of the lackeys trailing Tae Pyunghyun after graduation.

The reason was simple. His mother believed her son had gone astray because of her. Though Go Baekwoo saw no path but becoming a thug, he didn’t think it necessary to declare it early. If his mother heard, it would break her heart.

“Not much time left.”

Tapping cigarette ash into the plastic ashtray lined with a wet tissue, Go Baekwoo spoke indirectly about his future.

“I’m not satisfied with that stubborn attitude of yours.”

It wasn’t quite the answer to appease Tae Pyunghyun. But so what if he wasn’t satisfied? Would he bury Go Baekwoo in some mountain for not saying he’d become a thug?

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, you punk! But still…”

Inhaling a drag and spitting into the ashtray with a hack, Tae Pyunghyun continued.

“The biggest brother sees potential in you, so I’m letting it slide. Got it?”

Looking into Tae Pyunghyun’s eyes, Go Baekwoo let out a deflating laugh.

“Should I say thanks?”

“That’s right, I’m the one who…!”

“To the biggest brother.”

The “biggest brother” was someone Go Baekwoo had only heard about through Tae Pyunghyun, never meeting. But mentioning him was effective at shutting Tae Pyunghyun up, so he used it often.

“…You’ve got a cheeky side.”

Pretending to be unfazed, Tae Pyunghyun clicked his tongue, then flicked his wrist, pulling a watch from his sleeve to check.

“Busy, busy.”

Tae Pyunghyun crushed his cigarette butt into the ashtray and stood.

“You’ll get it when you try it, but this collection gig ain’t easy.”

“Must be.”

Saying he was busy, Tae Pyunghyun stood still, looking down at Go Baekwoo. Waiting for a farewell. Go Baekwoo grabbed the ashtray, where he’d just tossed his cigarette, and rose leisurely.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. See you next time.”

With that, Tae Pyunghyun was done.

“…”

“…”

The remaining lackeys, soon to become seniors in a few months, also wanted farewells, their glares menacing.

But Go Baekwoo ignored them, turning toward the sink. He mentally organized his tasks. First, empty and wash the ashtray, then place it back. After his mother went down to the shop, he’d have free time until night. He planned to visit the tobacco shop then. Spending all his free time there would be ideal…

Only two days had passed since Cha Hongjo came to the bench, drank with him, and spent the night at Go Baekwoo’s house. Yet, to Go Baekwoo, that day felt like a dream, an illusion.

They played a red video, and Cha Hongjo masturbated in front of him. That wasn’t all. Cha Hongjo marked his cheek like claiming territory. He kept calling him “pretty boy,” but unless he was an idiot, he couldn’t not know Go Baekwoo was a guy.

That day, Cha Hongjo returned from the bathroom dripping wet and collapsed on the floor to sleep. Go Baekwoo, still buzzed, washed up and passed out too. He slept so deeply he didn’t notice Cha Hongjo leave. When he woke, he was alone in the house.

It was undeniably an unusual event. But he didn’t want to make a fuss. It would pass, as everything had before. He planned to endure, as always.

At nine, his towering father died. Once a top student, Go Baekwoo became a troublemaker upon entering middle school. The coffee shop, which had sustained him and his mother, grew shabbier daily, now neglected. His dream of becoming a boxer faded. The near future held nothing but a lowlife thug, a gangster, nothing more, nothing less.

Life and the world blinked like traffic lights, brightening and darkening in cycles. In such a world, only a fool let themselves be swayed and shaken by every event. You had to live as it flowed. That way, you didn’t get wet, spoiled, lost, or swept away.

Cigarettes…

…That way, you didn’t get wet, spoiled, lost, or swept away.

Go Baekwoo firmly believed so.

Never considering that he was burning, charring, sticking, or aching.

He slid open the tobacco shop’s sliding door.

Silence mingled with dust, floating in the air, and the counter was empty. That meant today was Cha Hongjo’s day to mind the shop. Without hesitation, Go Baekwoo took a few steps toward the small room. As expected, there was a presence inside.

“…”

Just a presence?

Go Baekwoo’s eyes darkened with shadow. A deep vertical crease, out of place on his smooth brow, furrowed. His tightly closed lips twitched as if holding back something surging from within. Moans, unbroken, leaked from the small room, sounding like they came from a red video.

“Damn…”

Muttering a curse in a neither loud nor soft voice, Go Baekwoo immediately grabbed the plastic chair in front of him.

At nineteen, experiencing a scorching deviation from routine, Go Baekwoo was utterly exposed to surging emotions. He hadn’t learned to cool his head. He’d never tried to. He’d never been this inflamed before.

His resolve to live as things flowed lasted only a moment. Go Baekwoo was helplessly drenched in the torrent of emotions. Desire and anger pooled in his once-clear eyes. His steps, now wandering toward Cha Hongjo, didn’t stop. He couldn’t help but be swept away.

Cha Hongjo had that effect on people. Like kindling, he set people ablaze instantly.

Go Baekwoo hurled the chair at the small room’s door.

Chaos erupted in an instant. The chair crashed through the sliding door, sweeping away shoddily displayed items. Various goods fell to the floor, rolling. The sliding door’s glass shattered, leaving a gaping hole, through which Go Baekwoo’s eyes met Cha Hongjo’s.

“Cha Hongjo.”

“Damn, you.”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

Their questions, aimed at each other, were sharper than the glass shards. The now-useless sliding door groaned as it slid open. Cha Hongjo, shooting a glare as if ready to pounce, descended from the small room at his usual maddeningly leisurely pace.

When someone barks like a dog, you become a dog and charge back—that’s human nature. But, as expected, Cha Hongjo was unlike any human Go Baekwoo had encountered. Unpredictable to an extreme.

“Wow…”

Letting out an admiring exclamation as he glanced at the wrecked shop, Cha Hongjo kicked aside glass shards and ruined goods with his foot, then rummaged in his pocket. His eyes, scanning the chaotic floor, locked back onto Go Baekwoo.

Wearing only pants, Cha Hongjo pulled a crumpled cigarette pack from his pocket. With a seemingly calm hand, he drew out a cigarette and placed it between his lips.

“…”

Lowering his head to light it, Cha Hongjo flicked his eyes up to stare at Go Baekwoo. Go Baekwoo had been glaring down at him the whole time.

Finally, lighting the cigarette, Cha Hongjo straightened his face and exhaled deeply. White smoke enveloped the airborne dust, blanketing Go Baekwoo’s face.

As Go Baekwoo narrowed his stinging eyes and wiped his face with a dry hand, Cha Hongjo turned toward the small room’s entrance.

“What’s the matter…”

“Go.”

While leisurely smoking a few drags, he gestured with his chin at Seo Miyeon, who had quickly dressed during the commotion, murmuring. She must have been as displeased as he was, interrupted by an uninvited guest at a good moment. But Seo Miyeon didn’t ask more, saying, “I’ll call you,” and slipped out through the small room’s back door, just as she’d entered.

Now, only Cha Hongjo and Go Baekwoo remained in the wreckage.

Cha Hongjo sat on the small room’s threshold.

“I treated you nice.”

Resting his arm on his thigh, Cha Hongjo flicked off cigarette ash and murmured.

“Your face sure knows how to make a mess.”

“And you’re desperate because you can’t live up to your dick’s worth.”

To an outsider, it might sound like a lover confronting a cheater. But they weren’t married, lovers, or even clearly friends. They’d only known each other for a few days.

“Wow, damn.”

It was a situation so absurd it was almost laughable.

“Interesting.”

And so, Cha Hongjo laughed. He burst into unrestrained laughter, casting a mocking glance at Go Baekwoo.

“…It’s interesting, sure.”

The laughter didn’t last long, but the gaze mocking Go Baekwoo remained unchanged.

“So, what did you do?”

At those words, Go Baekwoo’s rationality gradually returned.

If asked what he did, he would say he got angry. If asked why he got angry, he could answer that it was because Cha Hongjo was fooling around with someone else. But if asked whether he had the right to be angry…

Go Baekwoo wasn’t so foolish as to miss the underlying intent of Cha Hongjo’s question. He almost wished he were that foolish.

“You, Cha Hongjo.”

He knew he was being stubborn. He also knew that from Cha Hongjo’s perspective, it must seem utterly absurd.

“Don’t go screwing around recklessly.”

But he couldn’t stop being angry. He couldn’t hold back the words that spilled out on their own. If he had that kind of self-control in the first place, he wouldn’t have thrown a chair at the small room. He would have endured, bought a pack of cigarettes from Cha Hongjo after his romp, and gone home, not knowing what to do with his boiling insides. Or perhaps he would have gone to the bench, taken it out on the guys gathered there today, for no reason.

“I told you, is there a problem?”

“There is a problem.”

Cha Hongjo, tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it underfoot, stood up.

“Pretty boy.”

Grabbing a miraculously unbroken soju bottle rolling nearby, Cha Hongjo raised his arm. Go Baekwoo braced himself. Since he had acted like a bastard first, if Cha Hongjo swung the bottle at him, he’d have to take at least one hit to balance the wrong. That was how mistakes or sins were repaid in nineteen-year-old Go Baekwoo’s world. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Or perhaps an eye for a tooth, a tooth for an eye.

“When you’re in the middle of screwing and get interrupted, does it feel good or bad?”

Cha Hongjo’s hand, gripping the neck of the soju bottle, rose to his chest.

“You’d know if you’ve ever screwed.”

“…”

Go Baekwoo closed his eyes.

But then, thud…

The expected violence didn’t happen. Go Baekwoo lifted the eyelids he had lightly lowered. Cha Hongjo, pressing the soju bottle against his chest, gestured with his chin as if to say, take it. Go Baekwoo, caught off guard, grabbed the bottle. Cha Hongjo withdrew his hand.

“Serve the drink.”

“This…”

“Shut your mouth. I’m in a shitty mood.”

Contrary to his words, Cha Hongjo’s expression was no different from usual. It seemed his emotions rarely showed on his face, or perhaps the claim of being in a shitty mood was a lie. Either way, it didn’t matter. Go Baekwoo followed Cha Hongjo, took off his shoes, and entered the small room.

“Oh.”

While debating whether to close the glass-shattered door, a syllable flicked at the back of his neck, and Go Baekwoo turned to look at Cha Hongjo. Cha Hongjo, sitting on the floor massaging his shoulder, looked up at Go Baekwoo and asked.

“Are you a virgin?”

Damn, what does he take me for?

Twitching his eyebrows, Go Baekwoo irritably slammed the sliding door shut with a bang. Sitting across from Cha Hongjo, he placed the soju bottle on the still-warm linoleum with a tap.

“Glasses.”

As soon as he asked, Cha Hongjo dragged over two soju glasses and a tin with a candy design from the corner.

“Candy?”

“Ashtray.”

“…”

“So.”

Cha Hongjo grabbed the soju bottle Go Baekwoo had set down and twisted off the cap. The sound of the seal breaking rang out. Tossing the green cap aside, Cha Hongjo tilted the bottle. The glasses filled. One. Two.

One glass was pushed toward Go Baekwoo. The brimming soju, nearly spilling, wet Cha Hongjo’s fingers.

“You’re a virgin, right?”

Cha Hongjo asked again, licking the soju off his fingers with a smack. Go Baekwoo’s gaze was drawn to Cha Hongjo’s lips along with the soju, then flicked away.

“…What do you think?”

“Judging by your face, no, but by your actions…”

Pausing, Cha Hongjo downed his glass in one go, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and refilled the empty glass. His lips, glistening as if wet despite the soju not lingering, opened again.

“You act like a guy desperate to get laid.”

“…”

Instead of answering, Go Baekwoo filled his mouth with soju. Cha Hongjo emptied his glass too. This time, Go Baekwoo took on the role of refilling the empty glasses. Meanwhile, Cha Hongjo, lighting a cigarette, tossed the pack toward Go Baekwoo.

Having just filled the glasses, Go Baekwoo set the bottle down and pulled a “Rose” from the crumpled pack, slipping it between his fingers. He waited until Cha Hongjo lit his, and soon took the lighter from him.

“Which is it?”

“What, you gonna help me out?”

The two, with cigarettes between their fingers now at their lips, let out faint smiles simultaneously. They inhaled the smoke at the same time. The small room quickly grew hazy with the smoke they exhaled. The air turned acrid.

“Damn, you crazy?”

Cha Hongjo twitched his eyebrows, as if the mere thought was unpleasant.

“If you’re not gonna help, why ask?”

Returning the question in a calm tone, Go Baekwoo opened the candy tin’s lid and flicked off cigarette ash. As Cha Hongjo did the same, their fingertips brushed for a moment. A few ash particles, not yet settled in the tin, floated lightly in the air.

“I’m too scared to even joke.”

Cha Hongjo, cigarette between his index and middle fingers, lifted his glass to his lips. Staring intently at Go Baekwoo, he tilted his wrist.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

Tap. The soju glass hit the linoleum. Go Baekwoo immediately refilled Cha Hongjo’s empty glass. His eyes stayed fixed on Cha Hongjo.

“What?”

“You.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gay?”

“Maybe.”

To a question that warranted vehement denial, Go Baekwoo gave an ambiguous answer. As if caught off guard, Cha Hongjo narrowed his brow.

“Maybe?”

“…”

Go Baekwoo emptied his glass and took a deep drag of his cigarette. While he exhaled smoke twice, Cha Hongjo said nothing. He didn’t drink more or smoke.

“Earlier.”

It was Go Baekwoo who broke the strange silence.

“Sorry.”

“Clean it up.”

“Yeah.”

Two cigarette butts were tossed into the candy tin. Watching the embers die, Go Baekwoo murmured quietly.

“And I lost my virginity at fifteen.”

“Damn impressive.”

“You?”

“Fourteen.”

“…”

“…”

The silence was due to the soju sliding down their throats.

“Also, I’m not gay.”

His tongue, loosened by the sharp taste, grew more honest.

“But it’s true I’m interested in you.”

“…”

Even at that, Cha Hongjo remained unchanged. Only Go Baekwoo wavered.

“Does that bother you?”

“Ha…”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Cha Hongjo lit another cigarette, glared at Go Baekwoo, and flicked the lighter’s flint. A small spark flared, then a long flame shot up. The rounded tip of the cigarette burned and crumbled. Another stream of smoke joined the already foggy room. In the haze, Cha Hongjo’s expression and the mood between them became indistinct, like a fog.

Go Baekwoo, observing Cha Hongjo’s reaction, rubbed his dry face, his brow furrowed. A discreet sigh seeped into his palm. If only words could vanish like sighs, forever. Regret came quickly and lingered.

“Damn… just because I rubbed my dick on your face once.”

Until Cha Hongjo spoke.

Go Baekwoo lowered his palm from his chin, raised his head, and looked at Cha Hongjo. Cha Hongjo, as if chewing something, tensed his jaw and crookedly lifted one corner of his lips. Then his lips parted.

“You’re lying about losing your virginity.”

“…”

Cha Hongjo remained unchanged. Only Go Baekwoo kept stumbling.

“Stop flirting, pretty boy.”

Chuckling, Cha Hongjo handed Go Baekwoo a glass.

“Unless you’re gonna park your ass here, right?”

It was clearly a joke, but Go Baekwoo seriously pondered what to say. But.

Why would I show my ass? He’s the one who should…

Lowering his gaze to the glass to hide his sharpened eyes, Go Baekwoo saw Cha Hongjo shake the glass.

“What’re you doing, not taking it? My arm’s gonna fall off.”

“…Yeah.”

Like before, the curved soju wet Cha Hongjo’s fingers.

🔥

The 27th. In the morning, he met Tae Pyunghyun for the collection, and in the evening, he was supposed to comfort his mother, crying alone. He was supposed to… Go Baekwoo, stumbling up the stairs, stopped and gripped the railing. Wiping his face and rubbing his eyes didn’t clear the drunken haze from his vision. His body probably reeked of alcohol. He couldn’t knock on his mother’s door like this.

What time was it? He didn’t know. Cha Hongjo opened a new bottle as soon as one was emptied, and another after that. Time must have passed with the pile of empty bottles. He hadn’t checked how many there were when he left the tobacco shop. Go Baekwoo had been staring at Cha Hongjo until the very last moment.

In contrast, Cha Hongjo’s gaze wandered. His indifferent eyes, seemingly uninterested in anything, lingered on the glass, the ashtray, the sticky floor, the damp wallpaper. Go Baekwoo felt slighted by it.

“I… I’m going.”

“Go.”

He’d hoped Cha Hongjo would stop him, but Cha Hongjo waved him off without hesitation. Go Baekwoo was truly hurt.

I damn well… said I was interested in you.

“Stop flirting, pretty boy.”

Cha Hongjo’s voice, carried by the dawn breeze, poked at Go Baekwoo’s temples.

If you know I’m flirting, at least pretend to play along…

“Unless you’re gonna park your ass here, right?”

Ass…

“He… shows his… ass…”

The exposed thigh under rolled-up shorts dominated his mind. The hand masturbating in front of him, the expression and breaths at climax.

Go Baekwoo frantically rubbed his short-haired head and forehead. A muggy summer night. The heat from the alcohol was enough, but Cha Hongjo, suddenly flickering in his mind, made his body temperature soar.

“Ha, damn…”

Irritably shaking his head, Go Baekwoo pulled out a cigarette and slumped onto the stairs. The lighter’s flame was hot, and the cigarette’s edge burned fiercely.

“Hoo…”

Blowing smoke into the air, Go Baekwoo fixed his gaze on the glowing streetlamp beyond the railing. Moths and insects swarmed around the light. But none could throw themselves into the flame. The glass globe encasing the light was thick.

Among the countless bugs orbiting the crimson glow, one seemed like himself, lingering near Cha Hongjo. Go Baekwoo furrowed his brow. He felt utterly rotten.

🔥

An unexpected visitor arrived. It was Park Jungjin, who hadn’t shown his face lately.

“Ta-da.”

Park Jungjin raised a bag in one hand, grinning innocently. A clear clinking sound came from the shaking bag.

Glancing alternately at the bag and Park Jungjin, Go Baekwoo silently pushed the front door wider. Park Jungjin, dropping his smile, shuffled in with sneakers half-on, heels crushed.

“School?”

As soon as he kicked aside the blanket and plopped onto the bare floor, Park Jungjin pulled six soju bottles from the bag and asked. Go Baekwoo retrieved plastic cups from under the desk, placing one in front of each, and spoke.

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

If he’d gone to school, he’d be in class—or more likely, sleeping at his desk. Park Jungjin, also skipping school, wouldn’t have asked out of ignorance. He just grinned, twisting off a soju cap. Go Baekwoo stared at his friend, who showed up with alcohol before noon.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Came straight from home.”

“…”

He clearly understood the question’s intent but answered evasively. Go Baekwoo, watching Park Jungjin dodge, furrowed his brow.

Among the worthless crowd, Park Jungjin was the only one Go Baekwoo considered a friend. Not because Park Jungjin was special, but because they’d been close since snot-nosed childhood. They’d ruled the alleys together, attended the same schools, and were often in the same class. Their homes were close—Park Jungjin’s mother ran “Dallae Pub,” right across from Promise Coffee Shop. Their family situations were similar too. Park Jungjin, like Go Baekwoo, had only his mother.

Thus, Go Baekwoo and Park Jungjin stuck together like a pair of chopsticks. But even paired chopsticks have a left and right, don’t they? It started before summer. Park Jungjin’s face became hard to catch.

“I’ll forget your face.”

A couple of months ago, running into Park Jungjin by chance in front of his house, Go Baekwoo threw out a half-serious joke. Park Jungjin confessed abruptly.

“I got a girlfriend.”

It wasn’t a day or two of dating, so Go Baekwoo found Park Jungjin’s declaration surprising. Unprompted, Park Jungjin, now talkative, began recounting his unsolicited love story. The woman, three years older, was someone he’d met and clicked with at a drinking session with an acquaintance. Her name was Kim Hyesun.

After Park Jungjin’s long tale, Go Baekwoo learned where the supposedly reclusive Park Jungjin had been. Not long after starting the relationship, he’d been living with Kim Hyesun in her studio apartment.

“Bro, I’ll invite you to our love nest.”

Park Jungjin said, his face beaming. He looked truly happy. And immature…

“Home?”

“I don’t go much.”

“Careless bastard.”

Before blessing the relationship, Go Baekwoo smacked Park Jungjin’s head. He couldn’t help scolding him for neglecting his mother to live with his girlfriend. The clueless guy just grinned.

So, when Park Jungjin stopped showing up, Go Baekwoo let it be. If he was that happy, there was no point in a third party worrying or interfering.

But now, Park Jungjin suddenly barging in with alcohol in the morning sparked uneasy thoughts. Did he break up with his girlfriend? It wasn’t a pleasant guess, so Go Baekwoo didn’t bother asking. He’d wait for Park Jungjin to speak.

“Baekwoo.”

After silently emptying two soju bottles, Park Jungjin spoke in a subdued voice. Go Baekwoo, refilling his glass, glanced up at him.

“Damn, if I disappear after today, assume I’m in jail…”

Hoo. A guy whose head and pants were light before meeting Kim Hyesun let out an uncharacteristically heavy sigh.

Jail. Normally, Go Baekwoo would have brushed it off as a joke, but the current mood cast a shadow of unease. Did this guy mess up somewhere? Just as curiosity surged.

“Kim Hyesun says she’s seeing another guy.”

“…”

“She denied it like hell at first, but damn, the day before yesterday, she suddenly admitted it.”

Park Jungjin downed his drink. Go Baekwoo, fiddling with his glass, spoke.

“Break up.”

Empty condolences wouldn’t help Park Jungjin. Go Baekwoo couldn’t fully grasp his friend’s feelings, having never been in such deep love himself. So, he offered the only brief advice he could.

“How! Damn it!”

Park Jungjin shouted, spitting.

“Is that even advice?”

“Then you gonna keep living with a cheating girl?”

“She’s not cheating…! That bastard seduced her, innocent Hyesun…”

Innocent, my ass. Tae Pyunghyun, who thinks everyone bowing to him is under his thumb, is more innocent.

Twisting his lips, Go Baekwoo kept his sarcasm to himself. He didn’t want to needle his already wrecked friend.

“Who’s the bastard? You saw him?”

“Yeah, yesterday. I followed her when she left early. My pride’s damn bruised…”

Park Jungjin paused his story and downed two glasses in quick succession. Go Baekwoo waited patiently.

“Ugh…”

Grimacing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Park Jungjin continued without smoothing his crumpled expression.

“I thought it might be someone I knew, honestly. Hyesun has a lot of guys chasing her. I’ve had issues with those bastards too… ugh, damn it… But it was a guy I’d never seen before.”

Listening to his friend’s voice, laced with the sharp, bitter smell of alcohol, Go Baekwoo reached for a cigarette. He planned to finish hearing the story and step out to smoke one.

“What kind of great guy could make Kim Hyesun tell me to break up, that Kim Hyesun… the one who said she loved me like crazy. But he was a nobody, a complete nothing…”

“What does he do?”

“From his look, just a total loser, you know. His face was kinda decent, though? That’s probably what got Hyesun hooked, damn it, Hyesun… She’s naive but has a thing for looks, that girl.”

Go Baekwoo tapped the edge of a “Rose” cigarette, found in yesterday’s gym clothes, with his index fingernail—tap, tap—waiting for Park Jungjin’s story to end. Park Jungjin drank. One glass, two glasses.

“Anyway, damn, a rat-sized dickhead, you know?”

Go Baekwoo kept tapping the cigarette pack—tap, tap—until.

“In the back room of a shitty tobacco shop.”

He stopped his hand.

“That jerk was screwing her… and you could hear Hyesun’s voice all the way outside.”

“…”

He looked up at Park Jungjin.

“It was like she was calling his name loud enough for me to hear, over and over. Hongjo, Hongjo… Some damn Hongjo or shitty Hongjo.”

“…”

“I’m going to kill that guy.”

🔥

Go Baekwoo gazed down at the floor with a chilly expression. More precisely, he was staring at Park Jungjin, the only person he considered a friend. A friend, heartbroken by news of his beloved’s infidelity—the one he dreamed of marrying—emptying four or five bottles of soju in succession… Park Jungjin, who had vowed to kill Cha Hongjo.

If Park Jungjin were just another guy spouting empty bravado, Go Baekwoo might have laughed it off. But having roamed the streets shoulder-to-shoulder with him for years, Go Baekwoo knew Park Jungjin was capable of actually harming Cha Hongjo if pushed even slightly off course. Indeed, Go Baekwoo was often by his side when Park Jungjin caused trouble, like brawling with rowdy customers at Dallae Pub, so he knew him all too well.

Park Jungjin had no sense of restraint. When anger opened its jaws, he was consumed entirely. That had landed him in the police station several times. If not for his mother desperately pleading for leniency, Park Jungjin would have been in and out of juvenile detention at least five times by now.

His rough temperament left a positive impression on the “big brothers,” ensuring that even after high school, Go Baekwoo would likely stick close to him. It was a tough, enduring bond.

He wished his only friend could walk a different, upright path and live proudly. But in truth, Go Baekwoo had never scolded Park Jungjin to behave properly or tried to persuade him with sanctimonious guidance. He hadn’t even attempted it. Both of them were either piss or shit-stained dogs, so while Go Baekwoo wouldn’t join Park Jungjin’s reckless antics, he wouldn’t stop them either. On a day like today, he would have typically shared a drink, tossed out a couple of nagging remarks, and left Park Jungjin to his choices…

But if Cha Hongjo was in Park Jungjin’s crosshairs, things were different.

“Crazy bastard…”

Go Baekwoo muttered to himself. He couldn’t tell if the crude insult was aimed at Park Jungjin before him, at Cha Hongjo who thoughtlessly slept with women regardless of their status, or at himself, unable to decisively weigh his lifelong friend—practically family—against Cha Hongjo, whose name he’d only learned days ago. Even he couldn’t sort it out.

It was a stroke of luck amidst misfortune that Park Jungjin had come to him today. It was fortunate that he and Park Jungjin were close enough to share everything given the chance.

Turning his gaze from his sleeping friend’s face, Go Baekwoo left the house without delay. His destination was the tobacco shop. He felt sorry for Park Jungjin, but he intended to at least give Cha Hongjo a heads-up. No, a warning would be more accurate.

Judging by Park Jungjin’s fervor, there’d be bloodshed at the very least. No matter how much Cha Hongjo resembled a Hong Kong movie star, he didn’t need to face a dramatic, movie-like scenario with a knife piercing his gut.

Walking through the alley with neither haste nor leisure, Go Baekwoo paused to light a cigarette. The scent of “Rose” accompanied him all the way to Cha Hongjo.

The path, familiar from nearly daily visits in the short time he’d been swept up by Cha Hongjo, quickly brought Go Baekwoo to his destination. A few steps ahead, the two characters [담 배] came into view, and Go Baekwoo dropped the cigarette butt, crushing it underfoot to extinguish the ember.

“Ha…”

His final exhale of smoke was heavy.

Though he hadn’t run, his breathing and heartbeat were unsteady. Go Baekwoo briefly steadied his breath. Nothing improved. He slid open the worn sliding door. Rattle…

Tap. The unremarkable noise sounded like the start of a hypnotic trance, and Go Baekwoo hesitated for a moment.

“Earlier, sorry.”

“Clean it up.”

“Yeah.”

It was the sudden recollection of a promise, broken under the weight of drunkenness.

“…”

Before guilt for failing to keep the promise could set in, the surprisingly tidy interior of the tobacco shop came into view. The only trace of Go Baekwoo’s rampage from the day before was the glassless, gaping sliding door to the small room.

Did Cha Hongjo clean it up?

It didn’t seem likely. At a glance, Cha Hongjo didn’t suit tidying, cleaning, or sorting. Perhaps it was his soft, low voice and gentle tone, yet most of the words he spat were crude. Or maybe his languid, leisurely movements belied the deeply unsettling things he did. Cha Hongjo was closer to debauchery than decency, to chaos than order. That’s probably why he’d mess with a guy like Park Jungjin’s girlfriend.

An apology for breaking the promise would have to wait. There was something more urgent to say first. Go Baekwoo stepped toward the small room. The middle-aged couple, likely Cha Hongjo’s parents though not resembling him much, were absent, so it was clear Cha Hongjo was minding the shop today. More precisely, the small room.

Tap, tap. Go Baekwoo knocked on the small room’s door with the back of his clenched right hand. There was hardly a need to knock. Through the glassless, useless door, he’d already locked eyes with Cha Hongjo.

“…”

“…”

As Cha Hongjo, who averted his gaze first, pulled a t-shirt over his bare torso, Go Baekwoo pushed the door open without permission. He wasn’t here with good news, and his expression was far from friendly.

“Cha Hongjo.”

Kneeling in front of Cha Hongjo to meet his eye level, Go Baekwoo grabbed Cha Hongjo’s cheek firmly. Cha Hongjo, usually unflappable, grimaced sharply and seized Go Baekwoo’s wrist, intending to make him let go.

“Let go.”

Go Baekwoo’s grip was strong.

“What’s with your face?”

As he asked, Go Baekwoo brushed Cha Hongjo’s crumpled mouth with his thumb. When the torn corner of his lip was touched, Cha Hongjo flinched, clenching his teeth briefly before opening his mouth.

“Get your hand off.”

“What happened to your face?”

No matter how he looked, it was a beaten face. The corner of his mouth was split, his cheekbone was red with a bruise, and there were scratch marks. Fingernail marks… Had he been slapped?

Go Baekwoo, scanning the wounds marring Cha Hongjo’s once-smooth skin, clenched his jaw and swallowed dryly.

Who had hit Cha Hongjo? Park Jungjin, who’d sworn to kill him, was currently passed out. It wasn’t Park Jungjin “yet.” Given Cha Hongjo’s behavior, it wasn’t surprising he’d been hit, but it still pissed Go Baekwoo off.

“Who did this?”

“You gonna cry over it?”

“…”

His impulsive sentiment didn’t sway Cha Hongjo. Go Baekwoo swallowed a sigh and released Cha Hongjo’s cheek. Cha Hongjo carelessly wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, as if brushing off Go Baekwoo’s concern. Then, groping the floor, he picked up a cigarette pack, crushed it with force, and threw it far. The series of actions dripped with irritation.

“Got a cigarette?”

“…Yeah.”

“Take it out.”

“You’re not gonna say who did it?”

Go Baekwoo handed the “Rose” pack to Cha Hongjo while asking.

“Nosy bastard…”

Cha Hongjo muttered irritably, lighting the cigarette. Normally, he might have found Go Baekwoo’s persistence cute, but today he wasn’t in the mood for such leniency. After all, Go Baekwoo was more than half responsible for the wounds on his face.

“Your face sure knows how to make a mess.”

“And you’re desperate because you can’t live up to your dick’s worth.”

That day, Cha Hongjo hadn’t understood why Go Baekwoo caused a scene. Was it because he was a pretty boy with a fragile mind, acting out over his “face’s worth”? Or, as he’d implied, did he have some outdated sense of propriety, like boys and girls shouldn’t mix, and was punishing Cha Hongjo for fooling around with a woman at dawn?

“Also, I’m not gay. But it’s true I’m interested in you.”

Or was it really that, after seeing Cha Hongjo bare his lower half once, he’d fallen into a pitiful delusion of jealousy? Like some kid…

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. It was over.

“Me, pretty boy.”

Cha Hongjo said, blowing smoke directly into Go Baekwoo’s face.

“I cleaned up the mess you made. Don’t you get it?”

“…”

Go Baekwoo’s gaze wavered. Cha Hongjo openly mocked Go Baekwoo, who couldn’t hide his inner turmoil. If he was going to be this flustered, he should’ve cleaned up properly, drunk or not. Cha Hongjo would’ve still been punished, but still.

“Sorry.”

Go Baekwoo apologized readily.

Cha Hongjo didn’t mind Go Baekwoo’s straightforward simplicity, unburdened by unnecessary stubbornness. The world was full of swindlers who took pride in pointless obstinacy and covered up their wrongs, not to mention they were ugly. Amid such people, the pretty boy was certainly worth forgiving.

“If you’re really sorry, suck me off.”

With a crooked smirk, Cha Hongjo reached for Go Baekwoo’s lips without hesitation. His fingers, holding the cigarette at a slight angle, pressed heavily against the red lips and slid past.

“…”

It was a joke, but contrary to expectations, the pretty boy didn’t flinch. Had he toughened up after being teased about being a virgin? Boring. Disappointed by the lukewarm reaction, Cha Hongjo moved to pull his hand back from Go Baekwoo’s lips to smoke again.

“Cha Hongjo.”

But his wrist was grabbed tightly.

“Watch your mouth.”

The pretty boy overstepped and suddenly scolded him.

Saying sorry one moment, telling him to watch his mouth the next… Which tune was he supposed to dance to? Cha Hongjo raised one eyebrow. He was curious to hear what else he’d say. Go Baekwoo’s lips parted.

“And your habit of thinking about screwing all the time.”

Letting him talk, and he’s got some nerve, cheeky…

“Kim Hyesun.”

But the name that followed instantly furrowed Cha Hongjo’s brow.

“You know her.”

So that’s why he’s making a fuss…

“Stop seeing her too.”

It was about a woman.

Cha Hongjo let a faint smile play on his lips.

He’d been seeing Kim Hyesun for about two months. And the pretty boy… he first showed up at the shop about a month ago. It wasn’t particularly strange, but he hadn’t thought him the type to visit.

A shabby tobacco shop hidden in the shadows. At most, three or four customers a day, all familiar faces, old and poor. Like this neighborhood. So, the pretty boy’s appearance was inevitably striking and left quite an impression.

He didn’t seem particularly young, but not fully mature either, so Cha Hongjo guessed he was around his age. His eyes, framed by unusually pale pigment, made him wonder if he was a delinquent. Taller and broader-shouldered than Cha Hongjo, who was already tall, he seemed athletic, but his fair, unblemished skin made him think he might be a softy. But after seeing him throw things in a fit of anger, Cha Hongjo discarded the softy theory.

Anyway, the pretty boy’s appearance was uniquely striking, and his occasional temper wasn’t dull.

“There’s a bench at the entrance to the hill in Wonseon-dong. Wanna come tonight?”

His actions were a bit predictable.

“You hitting on me?”

It felt like something had gone awry again. It wasn’t the first time.

Some people are like flames. Living in darkness, attracting all sorts of insects. Cha Hongjo was exactly that.

Just as insects vary, the people drawn to him were diverse. Among those who’d approached Cha Hongjo, Go Baekwoo stood out. But whether a plain moth or a vividly patterned butterfly, an insect was an insect.

Cha Hongjo wasn’t born a flame. As a child, he was merely a spark. A faint, immature ember that couldn’t grow without kindling.

Insects naturally flock to the fire that birthed the spark. That fire, Cha Hongjo’s father, vanished from the earth without even leaving ashes. That was two years ago.

“School?”

“Cheongdae High.”

“Cheongdae High? Did you transfer recently?”

“How’d you know?”

After his father’s death, Cha Hongjo had been with his only living relative, his aunt’s family—meaning the tobacco shop’s eldest son—for about a year and a half.

His father, consumed and festering under pestilent men, took his own life. A failed business due to fraud, a mountain of debt, alcoholism, a tragic choice. A common story.

His mother was never there to begin with. But he knew her name from his father. Lee Kyunghee… Another unremarkable story.

So, it was only natural that Cha Hongjo was left with his aunt’s family like baggage, along with the life insurance payout from his father’s death.

His aunt and uncle, who were worse than strangers to his father in life, took Cha Hongjo in for the hefty compensation. But no sooner was he taken in than he was cast aside.

Too young to be an adult, but thankfully not a child, Cha Hongjo could stand and walk on his own. Still, he needed a guide, but walking without direction landed him in a cesspool.

Who could he blame? Cha Hongjo wasn’t blind. He knew the path he walked was filthy but kept moving. He chose to plunge into the cesspool himself.

The reason for his derailment was his father, too busy to teach his only son about family love. A father who then selfishly hanged himself. A belated revenge against Cha Inyoon, who faded without a trace.

It was also to spite his aunt and uncle, who, fearing public judgment, clung to their worthless nephew’s ankle despite wanting to abandon him.

And it stemmed from a futile defiance toward his mother, Lee Kyunghee, whom he’d thought dead but who appeared at his father’s funeral, left a measly 100,000 won in condolence money, and vanished again.

The anger, ignited by using others as kindling, eventually spread to himself.

The betrayal toward his father, the resentment toward his aunt and uncle, the grudge against his mother… when it all burned away completely, Cha Hongjo realized something was terribly wrong. Everything was.

The fire he’d set had grown so massive that he couldn’t extinguish it alone. All that remained was to be scorched, burned, and ultimately consumed. As it had always been. Irreversible. Nothing could be undone.

His father, Cha Inyoon, who had no time to eat with his son but plenty to fool around with women, was a charismatic man. Whether he wanted it or not, Cha Hongjo, sharing his blood, inevitably resembled him. Not just in appearance, but in his rootless, drifting nature and the fate of attracting swarms of flies.

Many people rushed to Cha Hongjo, flowed through, and left. Some fled in fear the moment they touched him. Others cast curious glances but never approached to begin with.

Of course, most of those drawn to Cha Hongjo were women. He rarely got entangled with men. Even more so after he all but dropped out of school. Guys typically didn’t care about a lone wolf outside their territory. From the moment he transferred to Cheongdae High until his last day attending, he was constantly caught up in petty fights, but now that he was out of their sight, it was quiet. Or rather, given the constant cycle of meeting and parting with women and the headaches that followed, calling it quiet was contradictory.

Whether living messily entangled or stranded like on a deserted island, once this year passed, he’d be a legal adult, and his aunt and uncle could no longer meddle in his life. He planned to endure until then and leave this neighborhood, devoid of memories or meaning. He didn’t think about what came next. Destined for the grave, worrying about tomorrow was pointless.

With little time left before leaving, no matter how dazzlingly Go Baekwoo drew the eye, to Cha Hongjo, he was just another moth among the countless swarming toward him, nothing more, nothing less.

He didn’t seem particularly slick, so his blatant attachment was puzzling. But among guys, some picked fights at a glance, while others acted friendly without reason, so Cha Hongjo assumed the pretty boy was the latter.

But to think he approached to confront his girlfriend’s lover.

He’d known Kim Hyesun was seeing someone else. She’d confessed it herself, like a sacrament. Her boyfriend’s name… Park Sungjin, or was it Park Jungjin?

He’d even stayed a night at the pretty boy’s house but didn’t know his name. That’s why he just called him “pretty boy.”

“What’s your name?”

“Cha Hongjo.”

The pretty boy heard his name but didn’t share his own. In hindsight, given his ulterior motive, he must have hidden it. Cha Hongjo hadn’t asked either, figuring there was no point knowing the name of someone he wouldn’t get close to.

“…Should I call you a sly fox?”

Cha Hongjo murmured, twisting his wrist still held by Go Baekwoo. His skin chafed painfully, but he didn’t stop. The cigarette between his fingers had burned to the end. The long-hanging ash fell and scattered.

“Or a sneaky bastard?”

He finally broke free. Cha Hongjo rubbed his reddened wrist, marked by Go Baekwoo’s grip, with his other hand, sneering as much as his lips allowed.

“Or maybe a gutless nobody?”

He flicked the burned-out butt carelessly.

“Park Sungjin, Park Jungjin, right?”

“…You knew?”

When Cha Hongjo uttered the name never mentioned before, the pretty boy mumbled, looking startled.

“…”

“…”

A brief silence settled.

After staring at the floor for a while, Go Baekwoo lifted his head, gazing at Cha Hongjo, who seemed to mock him on behalf of his friend, and continued deliberating. What now? Since Cha Hongjo already knew from Kim Hyesun, explaining the situation wasn’t necessary. But persuasion was. What to say? It wasn’t easy. He wasn’t an eloquent speaker.

“You, get out.”

Rather than twisting words and causing misunderstandings, he decided to speak directly, as it came to him.

“Out of this neighborhood.”