Spark Chapter 5.3 - Red Sea

“Really… Are you alright?”

Park Solchan hesitantly asked, though he’d considered just leaving him be.

“Alright about what?”

Cha Hongjo laughed, a deflated sound like trampled grass.

“I guess it’s just because it’s the last day.”

“Ah.”

How could he be so forgetful?

Park Solchan belatedly remembered that today was the last day of filming for A Thousand Purple Flowers Blooming.

“That’s right….”

His actor’s second project, the one he managed, would soon be complete. Park Solchan forced down a sudden surge of emotion, plastering an awkward smile on his face.

“I’ll be waiting. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“No, Mr. Solchan. You can go home now.”

“…Now? Right now?”

“I have somewhere to go after this is over.”

Still, it was the last day of filming, shouldn’t he stay by his side? Moreover, there would likely be a wrap party with the director, staff, and actors. He might be needed to drive.

“I’ll at least watch until the filming is done.”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

But Cha Hongjo flatly refused.

“You’re supposed to use your common sense, Mr. Solchan.”

“…But… Ha… Never mind. I’m sorry. Then, I’ll be going. Please contact me if you need anything.”

The unfamiliar tone of dismissal made Park Solchan retreat. Even though he generally had a forgiving nature, he couldn’t help but feel displeased at this moment.

He knew Cha Hongjo wasn’t actually a bad person.

‘I… have to let go first…’

He had also inadvertently learned that because he was inherently a lonely person, he acted harsh to avoid loss.

But no matter how well he understood him, the relationship between himself and Cha Hongjo was simply that of a manager and an actor. After work, they were strictly strangers.

He was told to leave, and his offer to stay was rejected. There was no point in lingering and inviting further rebuke. Park Solchan got in his car, and as he gripped the steering wheel, his stomach growled. He hadn’t had time for breakfast because he was worried about being late, and now he was hungry… Had Cha Hongjo eaten? He had lost quite a bit of weight since they first met. He didn’t look gaunt because he was well-built, but who knew what his insides were like…

“Ah… He really makes me worry.”

He must be the only office worker in South Korea whose heart wasn’t at ease even after leaving work. Park Solchan scoffed at himself as he drove away from the slum.

🔥

“…”

Without a single line, the ‘man’ died.

His empty shell hung from a tree next to the mound where the woman was buried. The wind swayed him back and forth. At the same time, flowers bloomed in the lush grass, and prematurely fallen petals drifted across the blue sky.

Meanwhile, his soul reached his wish.

A conclusion tragically beautiful to some, a fall from which one never recovers.

Heaven was a cliff of a thousand purple flowers blooming.

🔥

Lee Gyeonghee looked at herself in the mirror. There were mottled bruises on her neck. With the weather getting warmer, she would have to wear a scarf.

“Tsk…”

But she wasn’t in a bad mood.

“…Haha, pathetic bastards.”

All of them, every single one, threatened to kill her but none of them could actually take her life. Blustering fools.

After washing and drying her hands, Lee Gyeonghee tidied her dishevelled hair and left the bathroom. As if to monitor her, preventing her escape, the man who had driven her here was standing in front of the bathroom. Their eyes met, and she narrowed hers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run away like some people.”

This was an opportunity, a connection. There was no reason to run. Lee Gyeonghee, though she hadn’t heard the details yet, planned to reach an agreement with Chairman Go, who had summoned her, and extract some money. If things went south, she could always hide in the mountains. Even Go Daeil, the godfather of Geumyang, couldn’t search every house, could he? Even thugs had their own rules and code of conduct. She had survived by exploiting that fact.

“Move. It seems like Chairman Go has something more to say to me. I need to go quickly, right?”

Lee Gyeonghee pushed past Munkwanhee and returned to the reception room.

This time, it was a face-to-face meeting. The impudent brat who had bruised her neck was nowhere to be seen. His father had probably locked him up somewhere. Children truly were burdensome beings.

“About those kids.”

Lee Gyeonghee settled back into the same seat as before, starting the conversation.

“They’re really emotional and impulsive. Just like dogs. Right, Chairman Go?”

It was her way of saying she would forgive the incident where his son attacked her. It was also a veiled threat, implying she would keep quiet in exchange for compensation.

Go Daeil gave a bitter laugh.

“That’s what makes them kids.”

“Well, they’re not exactly children. They’re not minors, are they?”

Lee Gyeonghee carefully observed Go Daeil’s expression. Years spent in gambling dens had honed her ability to read people’s faces like a ghost. But this man’s true intentions were not easily discernible from his expression alone.

“I thought about why you wanted to see me, Chairman. Would you mind listening to see if I’m right?”

“Go ahead.”

Chairman Go subtly twisted his lips. What did that mean? It seemed like displeasure, perhaps derision.

“Hongjo, Cha Hongjo, him.”

Lee Gyeonghee spoke Cha Hongjo’s name as if referring to a stranger.

“He earns quite a bit of money for you, doesn’t he?”

“…”

“He’s not a minor, but he’s still young. He’s the kind of kid who needs an adult’s guidance. Isn’t that why you called me along with him?”

“You know one thing but not the other.”

Chairman Go opened his mouth, his voice heavy with meaning.

“What do you mean?”

“The money that boy earns is just pocket change to me.”

So, he hadn’t called her here to negotiate about Cha Hongjo. Lee Gyeonghee frowned. Then…

Before she could speak, Go Daeil cut her off.

“Debt collectors are a dime a dozen in gambling dens. I could just embalm you and bury you. Why do you think I called you here?”

“…Why did you call me here!”

“The guy who messed around with my son. And…”

…’Messed around with his son’?

Was it not simply a relationship between an agency head and an actor? They weren’t friends?

Lee Gyeonghee’s eyes widened.

“I called you to save face for his parents. Unlike you, Ms. Lee Gyeonghee,”

Chairman Go continued, showing no consideration for his conversational partner’s circumstances.

“I care about my son.”

“…Haha.”

“If he strays from the path, I will pave a wider road for him. If he climbs a cliff, I will throw him a lifeline.”

As he spoke, Go Daeil took out a cigarette and lit it.

The one-sided conversation resumed.

“It’s probably just kids playing with fire…”

Chairman Go muttered, chewing on his cigarette filter.

“But who knows. Even if it’s just playing around, fire is still fire, it can burn your hand. I can’t stand the thought of that Baekwoo kid getting even a single hair singed—even if he’s the one who begged me to create a position for him just so he could chase after a celebrity.”

“…”

“I wondered why it’s been so quiet…”

Go Daeil, who had been sitting quite upright, leaned back against the backrest.

“It’s never too late to stamp out a fire when you think it’s gone out…”

His gaze remained fixed on Lee Gyeonghee throughout.

“That’s all.”

“…What do you mean, ‘that’s all’?”

Lee Gyeonghee asked, not understanding what Go Daeil was saying.

That’s why you’re so stupid, you still haven’t learned your lesson even after losing two fingers.

Sighing inwardly, Go Daeil moved his lips, mocking the woman.

“Kwanhee.”

The summons wasn’t directed at Lee Gyeonghee, but towards the door. As if he had been waiting right outside, Secretary Moon immediately replied, “Yes, Chairman,” and entered the reception room.

Go Daeil gestured towards Lee Gyeonghee with his chin.

“Get rid of her.”

“Should I call Taegu Yoo?”

“Yes.”

Lee Gyeonghee.

“…Wait.”

It didn’t take long for her to grasp the situation.

“Wait!”

Time passed relentlessly, and no matter how desperately she pleaded, a mere mortal was not granted a ‘wait’.

“Let go! Let go of me! Chairman Go! Chairman Go! I can pay you back! I can pay you back, I swear! Let gooo!”

The flames ignited in an instant, but the end was drawn out.

Lee Gyeonghee’s screams continued until dawn the next day, then ceased forever.

The day Cha Hongjo’s mother vanished from the world. Go Baekwoo, who had been locked in his room on the second floor all night, made up his mind and stepped out onto the terrace. He carefully descended to the garden, using the crevices between the bricks that formed the mansion’s walls as footholds. Now, the main gate opened easily.

And without hesitation, he ran to Cha Hongjo. It was close to four in the afternoon.

🔥

‘Heaven is…’

At Cha Hongjo’s request, the narration recording was completed on the last day of filming.

‘A cliff of a thousand purple flowers blooming.’

After A Thousand Purple Flowers Blooming reached its climax, those who had been holding their breath, focused solely on Cha Hongjo, finally exhaled at the director’s “Okay!” Applause erupted belatedly. Some shed tears before they could even clap.

As expected, there was a wrap party, but Cha Hongjo announced he would go home. A wrap party without the lead actor seemed unthinkable, but no one could readily hold Cha Hongjo back. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t yet emerged from the character of the ‘man.’

Fortunately, Seo Joohyun, the other lead actor, agreed to attend the wrap party. She, along with Director Choi and the staff, bid farewell to Cha Hongjo, the first to leave, saying “Good job” and “See you again,” waving their hands. Cha Hongjo, his hand holding a cigarette still, responded only with a faint smile.

Taxis were rare in the slum, so he had to walk to the main intersection.

The spring sun was harsh.

But Cha Hongjo felt a chill while waiting for a taxi. He would look up at the sky, wondering if it was cold, only to be stabbed by the sunlight. His eyes and forehead throbbed, forcing him to lower his head again. He repeated this several times before finally catching a cab.

Shortly after, another taxi stopped nearby. The passenger who got out was Go Baekwoo. He ran up the hill towards the slum without tiring.

Cha Hongjo, unable to look back, simply left. He never imagined, not even in his dreams, that the only person who could stop him was running towards him.

Even tangled fates have separate ends. That’s why they missed each other.

Returning to the grey forest of buildings, Cha Hongjo entered a hotel. It was the same hotel he had visited numerous times with Mrs. Jo, and where he had spent half a day with Go Baekwoo. It was the first place that came to mind when he thought about where to go. He didn’t know the reason, and it didn’t matter.

A luxurious hotel room incomparable to a shabby motel room. Stepping onto the marble floor and entering, Cha Hongjo requested room service from the attendant before the door closed.

He sat in the living room and turned on the radio. He wanted to close his eyes, but the silence was unbearable.

Without changing the preset radio station, he sat slumped on the sofa and lowered his eyelids. Music without lyrics flowed from the radio. He couldn’t tell if the melody, devoid of words, was cheerful or sad. No melody evoked any particular emotion.

His prepared heart was as hard as a fossil.

Cha Hongjo placed a hand on his grey chest, clenching his clothes as if to tear them, then releasing them. Like someone with indigestion, he hunched over, hitting his chest repeatedly. 퍽, 퍽. He struck hard enough to make his face contort, but the thing residing within him remained unscathed. The accumulated calluses were like a stone wall.

So you’re trapped inside me like this.

Cha Hongjo spoke to the only living being within him.

Still, Baekwoo. I’m glad we couldn’t become a perfect one…

Because your end and mine will be different.

You are the sea. I am fire. I’m happy we were born as beings that cannot mix.

Cha Hongjo found happiness in the midst of unhappiness.

He released his clenched chest and stretched out again.

The doorbell rang. It was room service. The staff member wheeled in a cart and neatly arranged steak, rice, side dishes, wine, and a glass on the table covered with a white cloth. Shining wine glasses, silver spoons, forks, and knives were placed on the empty spots.

“Enjoy your meal.” The staff member bowed deeply and left the room. Only after being completely alone did Cha Hongjo pick up a spoon. He took a bite of fried rice. He put the spoon down. Next, he picked up the fork and knife. He pierced one side of the steak decorated with vegetables and sauce with the fork and inserted the knife on the opposite side to cut it.

끽, 끽. The grating of metal against porcelain made a jarring sound. But he didn’t mind. Cha Hongjo still hadn’t heard the music playing on the radio. He had created sound because he hated the silence, but the surroundings of a solitary person were eerily quiet.

Blood seeped from the sliced steak. Cha Hongjo lifted the piece of meat impaled on the fork and turned it around as if observing it, then opened his mouth. It was from a top-class hotel, presumably cooked by a skilled chef, but it had no taste. It was like chewing on lukewarm plain water.

One bite of fried rice. One piece of steak. The meal ended that simply. He settled for a sip of wine and a cigarette as a palate cleanser. Nothing appealed to him. If he forced anything else into his being, already filled to the brim with Go Baekwoo, he would surely vomit. And he was afraid that in doing so, he might lose Go Baekwoo as well. He didn’t want anything. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.

He hadn’t noticed when he was hurt, but now that the scab had formed, it stung. He was incredibly obtuse.

He smiled faintly and stood up from the sofa.

He was sick of it.

He stared at the sunlit window, then drew the curtains.

The hot sky reminded him of last summer.

He had no lingering attachment to the past season, but he shuddered.

After drawing the curtains and turning off all the lights, the room was plunged into darkness. He greeted the night that hadn’t yet arrived, alone. Suddenly, he felt an intense chill. It was so cold his teeth chattered. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around himself and walked to the bathroom.

He turned on the hot water, steaming hot. The powerful stream of water struck the bottom of the bathtub. Droplets splashed. He stood still, watching the scene unfold. Perhaps it was the steam rising from the hot water, but he wasn’t cold anymore. Only a bearable coolness lingered on his skin.

When the water filled half the bathtub, he slowly lowered his right foot into the water. His skin, previously gripped by the cold, tingled as it melted in the scalding water. Like a monk impervious to pain, he lowered his left foot as well. No matter how hot it was, the water would eventually cool down. He had to submerge himself completely before that happened.

Fully clothed, he sat in the bathtub. The water level rose to accommodate his volume. The water, which had reached his calves, now quickly rose to his chest. Soon, intense heat enveloped his chest. He stretched out his limbs, sinking deeper into the water. It’s not cold anymore…

His wet clothes clung to his damp skin, and the bathroom filled with rising steam, blurring everything. Like a foggy monsoon season.

He fixed his gaze on the hazy air. Then, looking up, he noticed water droplets forming on the ceiling. The largest droplet elongated and finally dripped down with a plop into the water. As if stirred by that small ripple, the water in the bathtub began to creep outwards. It’s overflowing.

The things he should have let go of are overflowing…

Why have I clung to them all this time?

He let go of the things he could never obtain, one by one.

Only when he had let go of everything did he fully see his loneliness.

Pitiful.

Without making a sound, he mouthed the words to his loneliness. He reached out to it. His hand cut through the humid air, but Cha Hongjo was definitely stroking something. Gently, tenderly. He was comforting it.

I’m sorry.

The hand that had offered comfort and apology returned to the water. Cha Hongjo moved his hand to the side of his right thigh. He lifted his thigh slightly and fumbled around on the bottom of the tub until he felt something. The knife he had used to cut the meat earlier. It was a lifeline that would help his loneliness fall asleep too. His last remaining wish.

Cha Hongjo, with the shimmering blade, slit his wrist.

The night sea turns crimson.

He sank into it slowly, then completely.

Everything became still.

He was alright now.

….

Peaceful.

🔥

‘Mr. Hongjo? He said he was going home…’

The arduous climb up the hill was in vain.

It was the last day of filming. It was strange that the actor who should have been on set had left first. Go Baekwoo, uneasy, asked the staff without explaining the situation. Where was Cha Hongjo? But how could they know what even Go Baekwoo didn’t know?

Go Baekwoo left the slum empty-handed and went to Cha Hongjo’s house. He had to be there. He couldn’t not be there. But today’s reality betrayed Go Baekwoo again and again. The house was empty. Cha Hongjo was nowhere to be found.

The next place he went, the agency, also responded with, ‘Mr. Hongjo’s filming today, isn’t he?’ Then…

Park Solchan.

Go Baekwoo recalled the man he had paid a hefty sum to keep by Cha Hongjo’s side. He immediately called him. Thankfully, he answered. But all he got was, “He said he had somewhere to go… he told me to go home first,” not the answer he wanted.

“He told you to leave?”

Unable to contain his surging anger, he lashed out. This wasn’t right. When he thought about it, Park Solchan was not at fault. If he himself couldn’t hold onto Cha Hongjo, how could Park Solchan have stopped him? Cha Hongjo was an expert at escaping. Like a delicate silk thread, Cha Hongjo floated in the wind, seemingly within reach yet always just beyond his grasp.

Before venting his frustration on an innocent person any further, Go Baekwoo ordered him to contact the filming staff he knew and hung up. Then he dialed Director Choi Yitae’s number. Of course, he would be out of the house. The phone just kept ringing. With a sigh, he slammed the receiver down, irritated.

He had told the filming staff he was going home. He had told his manager, Park Solchan, that he had something to do. But Cha Hongjo was neither at home nor at the company. Then, the place he would be…

Mrs. Jo.

Go Baekwoo’s face crumpled at the image of her that arose like a gas flame. No, that couldn’t be it.

‘…We did meet. That woman came to the set. I didn’t know either, she came suddenly. I told her not to come again, so she sent someone the next day. And then… as you heard, as you saw, I received that medicine. And I forgot about it. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have left it in my pocket and thrown it in the laundry.’

That couldn’t be it.

What expression did Cha Hongjo have at that time? Right. A hurt expression. A disappointed expression at Go Baekwoo’s distrust.

He didn’t want to hurt Cha Hongjo again, nor disappoint him. Enough was enough. If one needed qualifications to love, he wouldn’t even have been allowed to try. The one thing, the single thing he was grateful for in this cruel world was that no qualifications were needed to love.

Go Baekwoo crumpled the image of Mrs. Jo that blocked his vision. He folded it again and again until it became a mere scrap of paper.

Then the phone rang.

“Yes.”

Hoping this time he would hear the news he was waiting for, Go Baekwoo quickly brought the receiver to his ear.

— CEO Go.

It was Park Solchan.

— There was a staff member who left the wrap party early… I contacted him…

“Yes.”

Park Solchan hesitated before speaking.

— It’s true that Mr. Hongjo left early. He didn’t come back. And…

“…Ha.”

Go Baekwoo pressed his fingers against his forehead and bowed his head. Then Park Solchan’s weak voice came through.

— CEO Go…? Are you alright?

“I’m fine. I’m listening, so go on.”

— Ah, yes. And also… Mrs. Jo Hyegyeong was supposed to come, but she didn’t. I heard this from Seo Joohyun’s manager…

Go Baekwoo hung up before Park Solchan could finish.

Suddenly, a fiery rage boiled over.

“Damn it…”

Seo Joohyun was the actor who, with Mrs. Jo’s backing, had pushed out Kim Jin, who was originally supposed to star alongside Cha Hongjo. Mrs. Jo was known for meticulously taking care of the actors she favored. But to leave the actor, who would have struggled to adapt to and immerse himself in the filming environment after being brought in mid-production, alone on the last day? That wasn’t like her.

‘For Cha Hongjo to be comfortable, I need to be there. So, CEO Go, please ignore any communication from him.’

Moreover, she would have attended the wrap party, using Seo Joohyun as an excuse to see Cha Hongjo. Rich in both time and money, she had ample justification. But she hadn’t shown up at the wrap party. Just like Cha Hongjo. As if she and Cha Hongjo were together.

The circumstances he had seen and heard fueled Go Baekwoo’s imagination, urging him towards rage. A crimson light flashed before his eyes. In the middle of it, gold letters were engraved. The name of a hotel in Seoul.

The place where he had run into Mrs. Jo, who had left an earring behind one day.

‘My pretty…’

The place where Cha Hongjo, not bothering to hide the woman’s scent, had asked, “You came?” as if waiting for him. It was the kind of place that would appear as a backdrop in a nightmare.

Go Baekwoo headed straight for the source of his nightmare.

After identifying himself to the hotel staff, he asked about Cha Hongjo’s stay, but the staff only repeated, “That information cannot be disclosed.” Go Baekwoo barely suppressed the urge to yell at another innocent person.

“…It’s an emergency.”

His clenched teeth made his pronunciation strained. His naturally low voice seemed to slice through the marble floor, threatening to be buried within it. The staff member, who had been like an impenetrable fortress, twisted his expression strangely, then excused himself and left his post. Not long after, someone who appeared to be his superior approached Go Baekwoo.

“Sir, I apologize. It is our hotel’s policy not to disclose guest information to third parties. However, as you said it’s an emergency, we will try our best to assist you. Would you please explain the situation?”

My lover is here with another woman.

He couldn’t say that. Go Baekwoo quickly racked his brain for an excuse. How many emergencies could there be in one’s life? He found the most appropriate answer.

“He’s sick… But, I heard he’s here alone. He might… die.”

As he spoke, a bitter taste rose in his throat. Was it because his stomach was empty, or because he was lying, or because he was angry? It was probably all three. It was also because he imagined Cha Hongjo suffering. That was understandable, as the last time he saw Cha Hongjo, he was indeed in pain, his complexion like that of a corpse.

“…I will check the guest information immediately.”

The staff member, after listening to Go Baekwoo’s story, quickly erased his smile and adopted a serious expression.

“Should I contact a hospital?”

“No, please let me confirm his condition first.”

“Understood.”

As he replied, the staff member rummaged under the counter. Then, straightening up, he said, “I will escort you to the room,” and started walking. Both Go Baekwoo and the staff member walked with a sense of urgency.

The wait for the elevator, the entry through its opening doors, and the ascent all felt like an eternity. Go Baekwoo couldn’t stand still, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The staff member pressed the button for the 22nd floor.

How could even the floor be the same as that day? Go Baekwoo wiped his dry face and followed the staff member. The room was the same too. Was this a repetition? No, he… no matter what sight he witnessed, he couldn’t treat Cha Hongjo like he had before. He couldn’t hurt Cha Hongjo. His mind made this resolution, but his heart was increasingly consumed by hatred.

His throat was parched. He swallowed hard. Just then, the staff member unlocked the door with a master key. The door opened… He pushed past the staff member and stepped inside.

The suite was needlessly large. If he had been holed up in a place like a motel room, he would have seen him right away. Go Baekwoo ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the living room. He spotted the leftover food on the table. Meat, rice, so much food. It wasn’t a portion for one person. Suspicion morphed into a misunderstanding disguised as certainty. His vision, which had been flickering with red, now blackened as if covered with coagulated blood.

The bedroom was untouched, neatly arranged. Any sign of life came from further away. The bathroom.

The room wasn’t the size of a soccer field. Go Baekwoo quickly reached the bathroom with his long strides. The splashing sound in the silence felt strange. His skin prickled…

“…”

Go Baekwoo walked through the fog-like steam and entered, where he found…

“Cha Hong, Cha Hongjo…!”

He found Cha Hongjo alone.

“Cha Hongjo!”

He ran towards him.

“Cha Hongjo!”

He lifted Cha Hongjo, who was slumped heavily like wet cloth. He didn’t even notice that the water, which had maintained the same temperature from before Cha Hongjo closed his eyes until now, was quite hot.

“Hongjo, Hongjo.”

He lightly slapped Cha Hongjo’s cheeks, trying to wake him. But his closed eyes wouldn’t open.

“Hongjo, open your eyes.”

His closed eyes wouldn’t open.

“It’s me, Baekwoo. I’m here, so please… open your eyes.”

His closed eyes wouldn’t open.

“Why, why…”

Thud. Cha Hongjo’s arm fell limply, touching Go Baekwoo’s thigh. Blood from his slit wrist soaked his pants.

“Why!”

He shouted, but Cha Hongjo remained asleep.

“Why…”

He sobbed, but Cha Hongjo, unable to hear or see, remained indifferent to all the commotion. Go Baekwoo wept mournfully because Cha Hongjo looked so peaceful.

Meanwhile, the staff member called an ambulance.

Soon, the sounds of overflowing water, pouring tears, Go Baekwoo’s desperate cries to Cha Hongjo, and the siren all mingled together.

Only Cha Hongjo, distanced from the chaotic world, remained still.

Peace was a privilege reserved for those who had crossed the darkest dawn.