Spark Chapter 1.5 - Spark

Why had he been so careless? When Cha Hongjo insisted twice on coming along, Go Baekwoo could only nod in agreement.

Go Baekwoo glanced toward Cha Hongjo. Perhaps thinking the conversation was about him, Cha Hongjo was looking his way. When their eyes met, he even flashed a grin. Did he even understand the situation to be smiling like that? Go Baekwoo’s insides churned.

Impatient, Tae Pyeonghyeon slapped Park Taegu’s back repeatedly.

“Taegu, go get him.”

“Yes, boss.”

Just as Park Taegu took a step forward, Go Baekwoo sprang up, shoved Park Taegu’s chest, and strode toward Cha Hongjo. Tae Pyeonghyeon, following him with his eyes, smirked slyly.

At the same moment, Cha Hongjo glared at the two men visible behind the approaching Go Baekwoo and clicked his tongue.

Their faces were a damn mess, ruined beyond repair…

The guys gathered at the last hangout had been the same. At this point, Cha Hongjo was starting to suspect Pretty deliberately sought out guys with wrecked faces.

It was after he’d kissed Go Baekwoo, who’d rushed at him like a rabid dog, until his lips swelled. Cha Hongjo had been ready to drag him into a room and strip him down, but Pretty said he had somewhere to go and told him to wait in the room. So Cha Hongjo said he’d come along. Who waits for who? Was he the dog, or was Cha Hongjo?

When he insisted on going, Pretty looked deeply troubled. Cha Hongjo suddenly wondered if Pretty had secretly hooked up with a woman while he was gone. Whether Pretty met women or not wasn’t his business, but the thought left a bitter taste. He couldn’t quite picture Pretty with a woman. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if Pretty liked women, but right now, Pretty liked him. Definitely…

Even if Pretty acted like a docile dog, humans were prone to straying. Given how pretty he was, he’d attract plenty of people, so it wouldn’t be surprising if he had two or four legs in the game. Thinking that far, Cha Hongjo grew convinced that Pretty was hiding a woman, and he resolved to see for himself. Curiosity got the better of him. What kind of woman did Pretty like?

But what he found were some thuggish bastards who looked like dough beaten with a mallet. What was Pretty’s connection to them? Seeing them exchange an envelope… had he borrowed money?

As he pondered, Cha Hongjo recalled a guy who’d claimed to be Pretty’s uncle. He remembered their conversation too. Lend me some money, I don’t have any, come on, I really don’t. It had been that predictable and pathetic.

At that point, Cha Hongjo stopped speculating. No need to dig deeper. Just knowing Pretty wasn’t as fortunate as his face suggested was already crossing a line Cha Hongjo shouldn’t have. Everyone had their struggles; there was no point in prying into someone else’s life.

The only worthwhile bond between people was physical; emotional ties were useless because emotions had no substance. That’s why, even knowing Pretty liked him, Cha Hongjo considered the possibility of him seeing other women. He had no expectations of anyone, no matter who they were.

“Cha Hongjo.”

Cha Hongjo looked up with a bored expression at Go Baekwoo, who had stopped in front of him. The brown eyes staring at him shimmered with a warm dampness. Go Baekwoo’s face was contorted, etched with guilt.

🔥

Since evening, the wind slicing through the tent had been quite chilly. Go Baekwoo looked at Cha Hongjo’s neck and arms, exposed in his short-sleeved shirt. Wasn’t he cold? Cha Hongjo’s face was slightly flushed with intoxication. With the alcohol warming him, he probably didn’t feel the cold. What time was it already? The rundown food stall tucked into the alley’s corner didn’t even have a clock.

“Ha ha ha! Come on, one more!”

A loud laugh, drawing the attention of other customers, made Go Baekwoo shift his gaze back. Tae Pyeonghyeon, thoroughly drunk for a while now, poured soju into Cha Hongjo’s glass. Cha Hongjo emptied the glass as quickly as Tae Pyeonghyeon filled it. Each time, Tae Pyeonghyeon guffawed and clapped. Go Baekwoo had been watching this spectacle for half a day already. While Tae Pyeonghyeon, Park Taegu, and Cha Hongjo downed bottle after bottle, Go Baekwoo had only sipped a few shots, but his stomach felt heavy and bitter from the harsh liquor.

“Man… he’s something else.”

That morning, as soon as Tae Pyeonghyeon sat across from Cha Hongjo, he muttered those words.

“Found a gem.”

His fish-like eyes gleamed. Go Baekwoo wanted to get Cha Hongjo away from Tae Pyeonghyeon as fast as possible. But…

“Can you hold your liquor?”

“Well enough.”

The situation unfolded completely against Go Baekwoo’s wishes. Tae Pyeonghyeon suggested they go drinking, signaling with his eyes, and Cha Hongjo readily stood up. Go Baekwoo told his mother and Sohee noona, waiting at the back of the teahouse until collections were done, that he was “heading out,” then hurriedly followed Cha Hongjo. Tae Pyeonghyeon and Park Taegu were already far ahead, their short legs carrying them quickly. That was his last chance.

“Cha Hongjo.”

He grabbed Cha Hongjo’s sleeve and spoke.

“Don’t go. You don’t have to.”

“Why not?”

“What’s the point?”

“They’re buying drinks.”

“You’d follow anyone who offers you a damn drink? Do you even know who they are?”

His heart raced, and his irritation had reached its peak. There was no room to soften his words. Surprised by his own sharp tone, Go Baekwoo clenched his teeth. Then Cha Hongjo raised his hand.

“Doesn’t matter who.”

He lightly patted Go Baekwoo’s cheek.

“Feeling shitty? Want to wait here, Pretty?”

“…….”

Leave Cha Hongjo to drink with Tae Pyeonghyeon out of his sight? No way. With no way to stop him, Go Baekwoo had no choice but to go along. Fortunately, Cha Hongjo didn’t shake off the hand gripping his sleeve, and Go Baekwoo held on to the crumpled fabric until they reached the food stall. Today was the day he’d reunited with Cha Hongjo after two months. He was still uneasy. What if he disappeared again?

Even with Cha Hongjo right in front of him, Go Baekwoo watched him with anxious eyes. The eyelashes, heavier with each sip of alcohol; the high nose casting a deep shadow under the stall’s lights; the lips glistening with liquor like dew; the eyes that occasionally flicked toward him…

“Phew, gotta take a leak.”

Tae Pyeonghyeon dragged his chair and stood. Park Taegu followed suit. Both men swayed like sprouts in a storm.

“Our fine, handsome boys aren’t coming?”

Tae Pyeonghyeon, arms spread wide, grabbed Go Baekwoo and Cha Hongjo’s shoulders and asked. Go Baekwoo shook his head, and Cha Hongjo answered by brushing Tae Pyeonghyeon’s hand off his shoulder. Tae Pyeonghyeon, clearly fond of Cha Hongjo, just chuckled warmly at an action that would normally earn a tongue-click, then left with Park Taegu.

“Stop drinking.”

Go Baekwoo, who’d been silent until now, spoke as soon as they were alone, snatching Cha Hongjo’s glass. The overflowing liquor spilled onto Cha Hongjo’s hand. Frowning with loosened eyes, Cha Hongjo brought his hand to his lips, glaring at Go Baekwoo.

With a smacking sound, he sucked the liquor off his hand and parted his lips.

“Why…”

“You’ve had enough.”

“Ha…”

Cha Hongjo let out a laugh like a sigh and pulled out a cigarette. He rummaged through his pockets again, then furrowed his brow deeply.

“Damn… lighter…”

The cigarette dangled from his reddened lips, warmed by his body heat. Watching the scene—the drunken face, the sluggish movements—Go Baekwoo took a lighter from his own pocket, lit it, and held it out. Cha Hongjo’s lips curled as he slowly leaned forward. The flame met the cigarette’s tip, splitting into two before flickering out.

“Finish that and let’s go.”

“Those… ugh, what were their names… those ugly bastards.”

Cha Hongjo had barely spoken at length during the drinking session, so Go Baekwoo hadn’t realized how drunk he was—his tongue was slurring. It was the first time Go Baekwoo had seen Cha Hongjo this intoxicated. Usually, when they drank together, including that time at the hangout, Go Baekwoo always got drunk first.

“Tae Pyeonghyeon, Park… Daegu. Damn, a person named Daegu, or Agu…”

“…….”

Go Baekwoo swallowed a sigh and put a cigarette in his own mouth. Cha Hongjo tapped his temple with the hand holding his cigarette, then said, “Ah,” and continued.

“Leaving without saying bye to Daegu and Agu?”

After all that stammering, he was asking if they’d leave without saying goodbye to Tae Pyeonghyeon and Park Taegu. Go Baekwoo let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Nope.”

Cha Hongjo wouldn’t see them again after today. Go Baekwoo would make sure of it. No need for courtesies with people they wouldn’t meet again.

“No damn manners… But when you’re pretty, you don’t need manners…”

Cha Hongjo wasn’t so much smoking as performing a ritual, taking only a few drags before letting the cigarette dangle between his fingers as he swayed. Go Baekwoo had said to finish it and leave, but at this rate, Tae Pyeonghyeon and Park Taegu would return before Cha Hongjo even stood up.

“No manners, but you’ve got a dick… Pretty.”

“…….”

Go Baekwoo took two quick drags of his cigarette, tossed it to the ground, and snatched Cha Hongjo’s cigarette away. Then he stood up immediately.

Cha Hongjo, who’d let his head droop before jerking it up, glared at Go Baekwoo with a piercing look.

“Where you going, Pretty Dick?”

“Home.”

Bending down, Go Baekwoo slipped his hand under Cha Hongjo’s arm and pulled him up. Home was just around the corner of the alley. Hoping not to run into Tae Pyeonghyeon, he supported Cha Hongjo. Despite being soaked in liquor, he was light.

No, he’s light because all he’s consumed is booze…

Leaving the food stall, Go Baekwoo slapped Cha Hongjo’s rear, which was slung over his shoulder, possibly asleep and silent. No reaction. So he grabbed a handful of his rear and kneaded it. Still no reaction. So he kept kneading as he walked home.

🔥

Go Baekwoo’s mother, as her son neared adulthood, rarely got angry over minor things. In truth, she always felt like he was a child left by the water’s edge, but she never showed her worries. Some say parents build higher nests as their children grow, but as someone who wasn’t even a great parent, how could she dare? All she could do as a mother now was let Baekwoo fly freely.

Whether he knew her heart or not, her son seemed to be preparing to leave the shade of her wings, changing daily. No, not changing—growing. As a parent, a child’s changes weren’t always welcome, but she had to accept reality.

Until today, the only friend who visited the teahouse or home was Park Jeongjin. But today, on collection day, Baekwoo brought an unfamiliar face to the teahouse.

It wasn’t a completely unfamiliar face; she’d seen him twice before. Once when her younger brother visited, and once before that.

The day before her brother came to the teahouse, Sohee had firmly warned her, “Baekwoo seems to have a new girlfriend. He brought a friend home, and it’s probably his girlfriend, so stay out late, unnie.” Sohee had a keen sense for these things and was so certain that she believed her outright. So that night, she locked the teahouse and drank with Sohee until dawn.

She’d known for a while that her son often dated girls, but he’d never been so obvious that Sohee would notice right away, so she wondered if it was his first love. Honestly, if Baekwoo had found his first love, she wanted to see the person at least once.

Perhaps sensing her curiosity, Sohee, while talking about other things over drinks, suddenly said, “Unnie, don’t go to Baekwoo’s room tonight. Really, okay? You’ll ruin things.” She knew. She knew, but when she went home much later than usual, she couldn’t resist peeking through the crack in her son’s door. Few parents in the world wouldn’t be curious about the person their child loved.

Through the narrow gap, barely wide enough for two fingers, she could only see her son. Baekwoo was fast asleep, and there was someone beside him. She hesitated, curling and uncurling her fingers. Was this okay? She asked herself dozens of times but finally nudged the door. On a windy day, the old door, which opened and closed on its own, slid easily with a slight push.

Creak—. The hinges squeaked louder than usual. She considered turning back and rushing to her room, but her eyes slipped shamelessly into her son’s room.

Sohee, who boasted her instincts about romance were never wrong, had misstepped this time, she thought, smiling. Seeing the boy lying next to her son, she let out a hollow yet fond laugh. He was quite pretty, but unmistakably a boy. It wasn’t even cold, but both had stripped off their clothes, not even covering themselves with a blanket, revealing flat chests that could only belong to boys.

She ignored the drinking tray pushed into the corner. She’d long noticed her son wasn’t far from drinking and smoking. There was no point scolding him now, so looking away was the best approach.

Since Baekwoo hit puberty, she hadn’t entered his room carelessly, but today she broke that unspoken rule. Scolding herself for being so foolish, she carefully closed the door, handling it like fragile glass so as not to wake the sleeping boys. She muffled her footsteps all the way to her room.

That was her first encounter with the boy named Cha Hongjo. Since Baekwoo was so reserved, she didn’t know where or how he’d made this friend, but she figured he’d chosen a good companion. She decided to worry less. Life was busy enough, and she hadn’t paid much attention to her son, let alone his friendships. So she was shocked that Baekwoo brought Hongjo to the teahouse on collection day. Had they grown that close without her noticing?

Later, Hongjo joined Tae Pyeonghyeon, that damn bastard, in conversation. She was in the back kitchen with Lee Sohee, so she didn’t hear their talk or see how they sat.

She fretted until Baekwoo, who’d rushed out of the teahouse saying only “I’m going,” returned. Thanks to resembling his father, her son wasn’t one to lose out anywhere, but going with Tae Pyeonghyeon was different, so she couldn’t help but worry.

Baekwoo returned around 9 p.m. that evening, carrying a drunken Hongjo on his shoulder. The two strapping boys, who’d pass for grown men outside, reeked of liquor. Baekwoo seemed briefly startled to see his mother in the living room and pressed his lips shut. She only said, “Get some rest,” and cooked dried pollack soup. She teared up briefly while slicing Cheongyang peppers.

In the muddy life of the mother and son, only their guest, Cha Hongjo, remained untouched.

“Ha…”

With a hoarse sigh, Cha Hongjo rubbed his forehead and staggered to his feet. The blanket over his stomach slipped to his thighs.

“Gonna die…”

If his head were made of glass, it would’ve shattered by now. The hangover was brutal. Like someone who’d fallen asleep sitting up, Cha Hongjo hung his head, scrubbed his face, and groped the space beside him. His hand found skin. Who was it? He sifted through memories fluttering in the haze of alcohol. Who’d he drink with yesterday… Choi Jihye?

“Hey, Jihye… Choi Jihye.”

Cha Hongjo spat out the name that came to mind, shaking the bare skin. But the feel of the skin under his palm… No, the skin was soft, but the frame was unfamiliarly solid and sturdy. None of the women he’d met had been this robust, at least not that he recalled. Only then did he lift his bowed head to check beside him.

“Who’re you…”

Go Baekwoo, meeting his eyes, grabbed his wrist and spoke in a voice as sleep-laden as his own.

“Choi Jihye, huh?”

“Not Choi Jihye, it’s Pretty.”

Cha Hongjo teased, trying to slip his wrist from Go Baekwoo’s grip. But it was only an attempt. His body tilted suddenly. Go Baekwoo had yanked his wrist toward him.

“Who’s Choi Jihye?”

“Easy, damn it…”

They spoke almost simultaneously. Neither looked well. Go Baekwoo was annoyed that a strange woman’s name came from Cha Hongjo’s mouth at the crack of dawn; Cha Hongjo’s stomach churned from being jolted while hungover.

“Handle me gently… I’m dying.”

He’d only woken the person beside him without checking who it was to ask for a glass of water. His limbs were drained of strength. Even moving a finger was exhausting. Cha Hongjo lay still, sprawled over Go Baekwoo’s chest. It was broad, flat, and just warm enough to feel comfortable lying on for hours.

Go Baekwoo stared at Cha Hongjo’s face, rising and falling with his breaths, and opened his lips. He was about to repeat the question he’d briefly forgotten.

“Who’s Choi Jih—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

But Cha Hongjo cut him off, and as if that weren’t enough, covered his mouth with his palm.

“Don’t nag, it’s annoying.”

“…….”

Go Baekwoo clamped his already restrained lips shut. The word “annoying” flipped his heart. Fine… whatever. Who cares who Choi Jihye is? Cha Hongjo had come back to him and was lying on his chest right now.

“…….”

Even after the hand pressing his mouth was removed, Go Baekwoo stayed silent. He just looked down at his chest. Cha Hongjo, looking like he might fall asleep any moment, slowly blinked. His half-lowered eyelids curved like crescents. The eyes visible through them were fixed solely on him. In that quiet gaze, Go Baekwoo felt a strange peace. His heart sank beneath the surface, yet his heartbeat surged.

Thump, thump…

Cha Hongjo focused on the sound resonating just below his ear. The steady rhythm quickened. It felt like the beat climbed his temples, stomping, crushing the dizziness swirling in his head…

“Pretty.”

“Yeah.”

Go Baekwoo responded, subtly placing his hand on Cha Hongjo’s nape. His fingers brushed hair. The sensation tickled. Liking it, he kept gently toying with the hair.

“What’s up?”

“You gonna be a gangster?”

The playful touch stopped at the unexpected question.

“…Why?”

“You gonna be one or not?”

“…….”

If he said yes, would Cha Hongjo lump him with people like Tae Pyeonghyeon? Worried, he briefly considered lying. But he was never good at making things up. Go Baekwoo’s lips, which had been hesitating, soon moved honestly.

“Probably.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

His father left before etching his face into his son’s memory. There were faint memories of playing with his father as a young child, but all that stood out were his own giggling laughter and his father’s expressionless voice calling, “Baekwoo.”

Just as the ground doesn’t clear stones for a limping man, the world offered no favors to Go Baekwoo, raised by a single mother. If anything, it was cruel. His father vanished without leaving anything behind, and his mother was poor. That poverty persisted. All Go Baekwoo inherited from his parents was an exceptional appearance, a healthy body, and his fists.

Using those three assets, he’d once dreamed of becoming a boxer, but that wasn’t something you could achieve with just a body. The gym’s training fees kept rising, and the debt crushing his mother’s back grew. So, naturally, he gave up boxing. He couldn’t help it if people pointed fingers, saying he crawled to the bottom without trying, but…

Bowing to a gangster was a lifeline for Go Baekwoo. They promised he’d make piles of money. They said he could put stacks of cash in his mother’s hands, hands that would never need to touch water again. That was a lifeline coated in honey and gold.

If it meant becoming a gangster, a thug, so be it.

“Alright.”

Cha Hongjo, who’d seemed content to stay on his chest forever, lifted his head, turned his body, and leaned in, face close. One inch closer, and their noses would touch. Go Baekwoo swallowed dryly, and Cha Hongjo spoke.

“Take me with you.”

“…Where?”

“The gangster den.”

If it were paradise, he’d gladly take him, but who drags someone they care about to a gangster den? The mere thought made Go Baekwoo shudder, clenching his teeth. Cha Hongjo placed a finger on his lips, as if to pry out an answer.

“Not keen on that, huh?”

Cha Hongjo felt the twitch of the lips under his fingertip. The light brown eyes, so close, held a troubled glint but didn’t look away.

From what he had experienced so far, Pretty was a man of few words. Even when he spoke, his words were brief. But he didn’t seem like the type to bury what needed to be said, like some fool. Hadn’t Cha Hongjo heard him say cute, absurd things more than a few times? When the time came to speak, he’d open his mouth on his own.

Cha Hongjo lifted his hand from the lips that no longer trembled even slightly. As if letting Go Baekwoo go entirely, he slid off his body. He lay back, facing the ceiling, pressing his forearm against his eyes. The world began spinning before him again.

“Get me a glass of water.”

It was what he’d meant to say to Go Baekwoo all along, and he spat it out bluntly. The presence beside him stirred.

“Honey water would be better.”

“…Alright.”

A dog, once it chose its master, obeyed remarkably well.

Having casually issued the command, Cha Hongjo watched as Go Baekwoo, rising to his feet, lingered for a moment, staring down at him before heading to the kitchen.

Go Baekwoo wondered why Cha Hongjo had suddenly said to take him to the gangster den. But probing for reasons might mean he’d have to offer answers of his own in return. So he couldn’t bring himself to ask further rashly.

Had Cha Hongjo taken a liking to Tae Pyeonghyeon? Or perhaps, could Cha Hongjo…

Recalling Cha Hongjo clinking glasses with Tae Pyeonghyeon, Go Baekwoo’s shoulders stiffened. His chest churned. He hadn’t even drunk much compared to his usual capacity yesterday, yet he felt like he might vomit everything. Go Baekwoo set out a new cup beside the one he’d prepared with honey water for Cha Hongjo. He reopened the sealed glass jar, scooped a generous spoonful of honey, and dropped it into the cup. He filled it with water and stirred the spoon in circles. Clink, clink, clink. The spoon clinked against the cup. The water, turning yellow, swirled. Dizzying. What would he do if Cha Hongjo brought up the topic again when he returned to the room? Hiding Cha Hongjo from Tae Pyeonghyeon going forward was already a headache, and now Cha Hongjo was showing interest, adding insult to injury.

While Go Baekwoo stirred the spoon, back in the room, Cha Hongjo lay motionless, breathing steadily. To survive.

To survive, he’d drunk every drop offered by that thuggish bastard who looked like he’d been beaten with a mallet yesterday. Like a maggot gnawing through garbage to sustain a worthless life. Even if he had no attachment to this filthy existence, he didn’t wish to die right now.

When he’d lived at the cigarette shop, he’d thought it’d be better to be beaten to death by his uncle. But once the man who might’ve killed him was erased from his life, so too was his yearning for death. A person’s heart could change at any time, so who knew when he might want to die again? But as he’d sworn every time the thought crossed his mind, he’d never end his life like his father, hanging himself.

So whether he was stabbed by an enemy or died naturally of old age, as long as he was alive, he needed a way to get by. Neither bugs nor humans could survive on an empty stomach. The cigarette shop, which his wretched uncle had said he might give to a fatherless kid out of pity, was now out of reach. All he had was the clothes on his back and a crumpled pack of cigarettes in his pocket. For the past few days, he’d been drifting between women’s houses. He ate their food, drank their liquor, shared their beds. A life where he got whatever he asked for was undeniably comfortable, but it couldn’t last long.

At the root of people’s kindness always lay another desire. The women gave Cha Hongjo a place to sleep, meals, and affection, expecting affection in return. Cha Hongjo had no intention of giving them the emotions they wanted to collect. He couldn’t. How could he give what he didn’t have? So he never stayed long in one place, moving to another when he felt it was time to go.

If he gave something tangible, it’d be nice if they asked for something tangible in return. Cha Hongjo realized the time had come to earn his own place to sleep, his own food, his own everything.

Even while he’d been thinking, out of habit, about who to contact next after Pretty came looking for him, the timing was perfect. The coincidence that a thug named Tae Pyeonghyeon had set his eyes on him.

From the sidelong glances at the teahouse to the way he was treated, it was clear Tae Pyeonghyeon was fond of him. It was different from the affection women showed, but still.

As if proving his hunch right, the moment they sat at the food stall and took a sip of soju, Tae Pyeonghyeon spoke up. The soju glass hadn’t even touched the plastic table.

“Ever thought about being an entertainer?”

The abrupt proposal didn’t warrant skepticism. A thug and an entertainer. Cha Hongjo wasn’t naive enough to miss the connection between the two. And besides…

“A singer or an actor?”

He was sharp enough to recognize his own aptitude instantly.

“You confident in singing?”

“Not enough to be a singer.”

“Then an actor.”

How had he not thought of it before? He was almost baffled at himself. Even recently, living off his looks, leeching from one person to another. There was a profession perfectly suited for that, yet what had he been agonizing over, foolishly?

With that realization came another question.

“But.”

Cha Hongjo gestured with his eyes toward Go Baekwoo, sitting right beside him, whose presence made Tae Pyeonghyeon’s face look even more pitiful.

“Pretty’s not gonna be an entertainer?”

“…….”

“Pretty? You mean Baekwoo?”

Go Baekwoo stayed silent, and Tae Pyeonghyeon guffawed.

“Our Go Baekwoo’s pretty, sure. But he’s not doing it. He’s already set to learn the ropes under me.”

“Oh, why?”

Cha Hongjo asked, looking at Go Baekwoo with curious eyes, but Tae Pyeonghyeon answered for him as if he were his spokesman.

“His face and build are a waste, so I told him to choose, but he said no to being an entertainer. He could make a fortune on TV, such a shame… Well, as long as the big boss likes him, that’s what matters.”

Really…

Cha Hongjo, cutting through the fuzz of memory, stared intently at Go Baekwoo, who’d returned with a cup of honey water.

Such a damn waste.

“Take me with you, to the gangster den.”

That’s why he asked. If Pretty didn’t want to take him to the gangster den, he’d try to persuade him. Then he’d counter with, why not be an entertainer together?

The reason for wanting to convince Go Baekwoo wasn’t grand; it was genuinely simple. It was such a waste. And suddenly, he thought it might be nice to keep Pretty close. Even men who wander come home to check on their dog, don’t they? Especially if the dog is pretty and obedient, they’d want to show it off to the neighborhood. That was exactly how he felt.

“Honey water.”

“Thanks, Pretty.”

It was his first time keeping a dog.

Cha Hongjo looked into Go Baekwoo’s eyes as he drank the honey water. The water, just cool enough with just the right amount of honey, tasted perfect. He’d had honey water made by others plenty of times, but this was among the best. Maybe because the company was exceptional.

Dogs’ eyes usually had light-colored irises, and Go Baekwoo’s were exactly like that. Ever since the image of Go Baekwoo in his mind shifted to that of a dog, he truly saw him as one. The long eyelashes, fluttering as if they’d stir the air with each blink, seemed more like a calf’s, though.

Gulp, gulp. Go Baekwoo stared intently at Cha Hongjo as he downed the honey water. Cha Hongjo’s mouth was full of honey water, and Go Baekwoo’s was full of words he couldn’t yet spit out. Had he fallen for Tae Pyeonghyeon’s sweet talk? Was he really thinking of becoming an entertainer? Why had he asked to be taken to the gangster den?

An empty cup was held out. Go Baekwoo took it reflexively. Cha Hongjo slipped his hand under his T-shirt, scratching his skin, and nodded toward the door.

“Let me have a smoke.”

“Sure.”

It’d be nice if the things he wanted to say came out as easily as his responses. Go Baekwoo, as if soothing the questions he’d pushed down, slipped his hand into his pocket and fiddled with his cigarette pack.

They placed the empty cup on a desk cluttered with more junk than books and headed to the rooftop together. Go Baekwoo slipped on his sneakers, crushing the heels, while Cha Hongjo wore Go Baekwoo’s slippers as he climbed the stairs. The higher they went, the cooler the breeze felt against their skin. Autumn was finally tangible.

“Cold.”

Taking a cigarette from his pocket, Go Baekwoo muttered absently. As he placed the cigarette between his lips, Cha Hongjo’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Changed your brand?”

“Oh.”

At the question, Go Baekwoo slipped the cigarette he’d already put to his lips back between his fingers.

“Yeah.”

As Cha Hongjo noted, the cigarette Go Baekwoo had pulled out wasn’t “Rose.” He hadn’t changed it on purpose; he simply had no choice. After Cha Hongjo’s cigarette shop closed, there was nowhere nearby to buy smokes. It was the same kind of misfortune as when the old lady at Sprout Store passed away. Of course, for Go Baekwoo, losing Cha Hongjo was a far greater disaster than losing his only cigarette supplier again.

Anyway, the non-“Rose” cigarettes came from guys who, after the Sprout Store changed owners, managed to get smokes from far-off places.

“I didn’t buy them. Got them from other guys.”

With Cha Hongjo gone, what did it matter what he smoked? Some guys attached meaning to the brand they smoked, but that didn’t apply to Go Baekwoo.

Yet, when Cha Hongjo, who seemed indifferent to everything, grabbed his wrist and asked if he’d changed his brand, Go Baekwoo’s chest thumped with something like guilt, as if he’d done something wrong.

“Couldn’t buy smokes ‘cause you were gone.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

Flitting around like the wind, meeting this person and that, not sharing anything, not asking much first, then suddenly asking cryptic questions, impossible to guess what he’s thinking… If anyone was to be blamed, it was Cha Hongjo, so why did Go Baekwoo feel this guilt-like emotion? It felt unfair.

“So don’t go anywhere now.”

Little by little, Go Baekwoo was learning that unrequited love was both a sin and a knot.