A Perfectly Normal Romance Chapter 2.3 - I Hate You

“Okay. Let’s wrap things up.”

He said those words after a long time. Wow. If he hadn’t said okay here, I really wouldn’t have been able to hold back and would’ve smacked him in the back of the head. I would’ve resigned right then and there. Unfortunately, I ended up staying on this team yet another day.

I brushed off my mud-caked pants and the dried mud on my shirt with a wet towel, and a chill ran down my spine. I think I’m going to catch a cold. As I tried to move my stiff, cold fingers, Chief Producer Choi passed by and said,

“Do you have plans?”

“Yes.”

“A date?”

I was about to shake my head when Chief Producer Choi, after thoroughly scanning my appearance, offered a truly “grateful” suggestion.

“You still need to return the equipment before you go.”

“Yes…”

That bastard. He definitely told me to return the equipment because I said I had plans. As Chief Producer Choi walked towards his car, swinging his umbrella, I silently raised my middle finger at his back. The director of photography, who was passing by, pretended not to see. We all have that level of loyalty to each other.

I climbed into the van with the other staff, letting the musty warmth thaw me out, and typed a message.

[Can the interview be delayed by an hour? I got rained on.]

[Don’t worry about that and just come.]

Looking at the message, I glanced down at my damp shirtfront, back, and below my knees. My hair was still wet too. No way can I go like this, right?

But Hyun still didn’t reply to the text. I even tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Is he busy? Meanwhile, the car heading back to Seoul got stuck in rush hour traffic, and the estimated arrival time kept stretching like taffy. I leaned forward to check the navigation system next to the driver’s seat. Anxious, one of the bulky staff members next to me nudged me with his elbow.

“Hey, I’m getting wet too.”

“I can’t be the only one soaked. Come over here everyone.”

“Let’s go in and take a shower.”

“I have an appointment right after this.”

“A date?”

“No, work. I’m really going to end up going like this.”

“Just run as soon as we get there. We’ll return the equipment for you.”

“Thank you.”

“We should be thanking you. Why did you throw yourself into filming like that? It’s not even your directorial debut.”

“I didn’t want to be late for what I have after. Even though it all went to hell.”

Meanwhile, the traffic situation remained dire, with only a string of red taillights stretching out ahead. After suppressing my frustration several times at the endless stream of cars cutting us off, the car finally stopped in front of the broadcasting station’s parking lot, five minutes past my appointment time.

Unlike Gyeonggi-do, where it had been cloudy and pouring all day, the air in Seoul was refreshingly clear. As soon as I opened the door and got out, I became acutely aware of the stares of everyone passing by. The staff member who had been sitting next to me was fussing beside me, complaining that his jeans were wet too.

“Seriously though, where are you going looking like that?”

“I don’t know. He’ll probably tell me to go wash up anyway.”

Just as I finished speaking, a car entering the parking lot changed its course and pulled over to the side of the road. Bright headlights shone on me before immediately turning off. I squinted, blinded, and when I opened my eyes, the staff member next to me commented,

“Wow. Showing off because they have a nice car.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

I trudged toward the car. My gaze fell from the familiar emblem on the car to the even more familiar license plate.

Hyun, who had clearly intended to greet me with his usual businesslike demeanor, softened his expression the moment he stepped out of the car and saw me. Do I still look that wet? Probably. As I touched my hair, which I had hastily dried with a towel earlier, I offered excuses under his scrutinizing gaze.

“I got wet filming. That’s why I said I’d be a little late. We could just reschedule for today…”

“Rescheduling is more difficult.”

“True.”

“Why are you so wet?”

“It rained a lot there.”

And I also lay down on the ground threatening not to leave until we got the footage. Despite all that effort to get the footage, the filming took longer than expected, and packing up took forever. On top of that, thanks to Chief Producer Choi’s repeated reminders to return the camera and equipment properly, I dutifully stopped by the broadcasting station. Amongst all these misfortunes, it was a blessing that Hyun didn’t grind his teeth and drive all the way to Icheon.

His gaze, slowly sweeping over me like he was treading carefully, made me fidget with my hair again. My clothes had dried somewhat, but they weren’t completely dry, so it was a bit awkward.

“I think it’s better if I don’t get in. I’ll just go separately. The seats will get wet.”

“Don’t be a nuisance. Just get in.”

The atmosphere suggested I shouldn’t push it any further. Hyun stood by the car, took out his phone, and made a short call.

“Yes, this is Lee Hyun. I told them I’d be a little late, but it seems Shin Jio will need more time to get ready. Could we postpone the interview time? I understand. I’ll contact you again.”

“Is it okay?”

“He said it doesn’t matter since he’ll be editing all night anyway. Let’s stop by somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere for you to get ready.”

Just as I was about to ask where exactly, I felt a presence behind me and glanced back. I thought it might be someone passing by and was about to move out of the way, but it was Chief Producer Choi, who clearly had something to say to me. He brazenly asked, despite seeing that I was about to leave,

“Jio, did you return the equipment?”

“About that…”

Before I could finish, the staff member who had been walking behind us passed by carrying boxes of camera equipment, answering for me.

“I’m returning it now.”

I gave a bright smile, actively agreeing with his statement. Chief Producer Choi’s eyes drifted down from my smile and landed on my soaked sneakers.

“You’re going like that?”

This wasn’t sarcasm; it was a genuinely curious, questioning voice. Just as I curled my toes, imagining the damp marks they’d leave on the pavement, a firm hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“That’s why we’re stopping by a hotel,” Hyun said, answering for me.

I glanced back and forth between Hyun’s face and Chief Producer Choi’s. Introducing them to each other would be awkward since I wasn’t close to either of them. More importantly, neither of them seemed inclined to greet the other. Hyun let go of my hand and walked around the car to the driver’s side. I reached behind me to grab the door handle of the passenger seat when Chief Producer Choi started again.

“Hotels around here are expensive.”

Hyun replied casually,

“Were there expensive hotels around here? I didn’t know.”

The driver’s side door slammed shut. Chief Producer Choi made a face similar to the one he made when a terrible filming proposal came in, but he still wanted to appear agreeable. I pulled the smoothly opening door handle, bowed my head slightly, and muttered, “Goodbye.” Then I quickly got into the car.

The moderately warm interior of the car smelled faintly of soft leather and a familiar cologne. Beyond that familiarity, I stared at Hyun’s face. I couldn’t help it. Filled with burgeoning pride, I gave him an intense look. Hyun glanced at me.

“What’s with that expression?”

“I believed in you.”

“What?”

His reply was almost innocent. “Were there expensive hotels around here?” he had said. Right. Those words were much more effective coming from him, truly digging into the other guy. You cute little thing. I always believed in you. I firmly believed that you wouldn’t back down, no matter who challenged you.

Sitting in the warm seat made my vision blur. The car, following the flow of traffic, seemed to head towards Yangjae before suddenly turning into a parking lot. Still leaning back in my seat, I rolled my eyes to look out the window. It was a hotel with a grand entrance.

“Is the interview here?”

“The interview is at Yoon Sunghee’s studio.”

“Then why are we here?”

Hyun looked at me as if I’d asked something strange.

“I told you. To wash up and change.”

“You were serious? That wasn’t just to get at Chief Producer Choi?”

“Why would I do that? Get out.”

The car had stopped at the entrance, and Hyun opened the driver’s side door. Before getting out, he glanced back and said,

“Grab the shopping bag in the back. I brought clothes.”

“Huh?”

Before I could ask anything else, Hyun got out and handed the car over to the valet, completely ignoring me. Even when I tried to get his attention, he stubbornly kept his back turned. I reached behind me and fumbled for the large shopping bag on the back seat, hooking it with my fingers and pulling it forward.

Holding it in my arms, I awkwardly followed Hyun out of the passenger seat. He had already finished talking about his car and was striding across the lobby. By the time I caught up to him at the counter, he was already receiving the room key. We finally walked side-by-side as we headed toward the elevator. Hyun flicked the card key to press the elevator button.

“Wash up and change.”

“I could’ve just showered at the broadcasting station. Why go to all this trouble?”

“And your clothes?”

“I could’ve dried them…”

It was a pathetic excuse, especially in the gleaming hotel lobby. We went up in the elevator, which stopped midway. Hyun swiped the card key, and the door to the room right next to the elevator opened. He walked in, inserted the key card into the wall slot, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I just got any room since you just need to wash up and change.”

Normal people don’t just “get any room” to change clothes. Fortunately, the hotel room was a standard one with a single bed. Hyun flipped open his laptop and started typing. He probably got the room because he had work to do and wanted to be comfortable, right? Trying to rationalize the situation, I placed my phone and wallet on the nightstand. I slowly backed away and entered the bathroom, shaking the shopping bag and saying,

“Thanks for this. Deduct it from my interview fee.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

He glanced at the shopping bag I was shaking. His eyes traveled over my damp form with a strange look. He lowered his gaze and said,

“See if it fits.”

“Okay.”

I quickly closed the glass door and opened the shopping bag. It was filled with packaged clothing. Just like what he was wearing: dress pants, a shirt, a belt, socks, and even shoes. He really thought of everything. I guess I’m not getting paid this time? Actually, I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t be getting paid for the next interview either.

He probably just grabbed whatever without even looking. I placed the items one by one on the counter next to the sink and then pulled out a thin package from the bottom. My face flushed as I opened it.

I needed to change my underwear since it was wet, but it felt embarrassing. He’s so thorough. I fiddled with the brand and size on the waistband of the briefs before putting them down and stepping into the shower. I turned the lever, and warm water poured down, soaking my scalp. As the water flowed with a whooshing sound, I felt the blood returning to my cold, stiff body.

I stood there limply for a moment before starting to lather up. After quickly washing myself, I turned around after rinsing my arms, waist, and between my legs. That’s when I saw it. Beyond the shower stall, beyond the glass door, I could see the bed and a long silhouette sitting on it. I froze, and in disbelief, wiped the steamy glass wall of the shower with my finger. No. So… Yeah. It was blurry, but…

“He can only see my silhouette, right?”

He can’t see me clearly from out there, right? He can’t. Surely not. What kind of hotel builds such flimsy walls? And Hyun was busy working on his laptop, so he wouldn’t be paying any attention to what I was doing in here. He couldn’t be.

Still uneasy, I quickly washed my hair and dried myself with a towel. I could feel the briefs he had given me fitting snugly around my waist and hips. I touched the soft fabric and thought, the size is perfect.

It wasn’t just the underwear. The shirt fit comfortably, although a little loose, and the pants were slightly big, but he’d included a belt. After putting on the socks, I opened the bathroom door, holding the shoes in my hand. My eyes met Hyun’s, who was looking directly at the door as the gap widened.

I tried to avert my gaze, but I was flustered by his persistent stare, which seemed to hold mine captive. Is it because I’m not wearing shoes? I dropped them to the floor and slipped my feet inside. The smooth brown leather shoes fit perfectly.

“They fit well. Thanks.”

I cleared my throat and thanked him, but his cold stare didn’t waver. What is it? Did he see me after all? Is that why he’s glaring at me like this? I didn’t understand, so I stared back. Hyun slowly shifted his gaze to the nightstand.

“Jio.”

“Yeah?”

His unusually gentle voice and smile made me uneasy.

“You have a lot of messages.”

“What messages?”

“You’re popular.”

I wondered what he was talking about, so I walked over and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. My phone on the nightstand was lit up with message notifications. The moment I saw the name displayed on the black screen, a chill, like the rain from earlier, ran through me. I fumbled with the phone, trying to explain.

“No, this is… Did you see all of these? Why are you looking at my phone?”

“Do you want to see them here?”

Hyun leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear as he whispered just above my right shoulder.

“It was all visible like this.”

“Then you should have looked away.”

“I thought you left it there on purpose.”

“Why would I leave it there on purpose?!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to look either. It kept vibrating, so my eyes went to it.”

“So why did you…”

I was about to brush him off when a sticky-sweet voice whispered in my ear.

“Jio, how have you been?”

“…What?”

“We fought and all, but how could you not contact me even once?”

“…Hey.”

“You weren’t exactly in the right, were you?”

Listening to his low, soft voice, I turned my head sharply. Hyun’s perfectly sculpted face was too close. Close enough that if I lowered my gaze, I’d see his straight collarbone beneath his unbuttoned top button. I quickly looked away, the deep color of his irises beyond his clear cornea registering sharply in my eyes. I pulled back, and his lips, following my movement, whispered again,

“We were good together, weren’t we? I don’t think it should end like this.”

I stared at the phone screen, jabbing at it randomly, and saw the exact messages Hyun had just recited appear one after another. That crazy bastard. He actually memorized the texts. And why bring up these texts now, of all times?

“Call me when you see this. I’ll be waiting.”

After that murmur, Hyun suddenly changed his expression and looked down. Following his gaze, I saw a tiny profile picture in the message window. I threw my phone on the floor in a panic. His gaze, having lost its target, seemed to dissect every line on my palm before returning to my face.

“You really picked up anything, huh?”

“Hey!”

“If you’re going to eat, at least choose something good.”

“You… this crazy bastard… Who are you to…!”

Dumbfounded, I pushed his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. As if my movements were bothering him, he pushed the laptop, its screen filled with complex spreadsheet cells, off his lap. Just as he shifted, his leg tangled with mine. I jumped up and yelled,

“You crazy bastard! It wasn’t even good!”

Up until we entered the hotel, I’d thought the atmosphere couldn’t get any more awkward, but now it was digging its own grave, scraping at the very earth. I felt dizzy, lightheaded. Hyun, who had been staring intently at me while pushing his laptop away just a moment ago, blinked rapidly at my outburst. Then, after a few blinks, he said,

“What do you mean it wasn’t good?”

“…”

“Were you not satisfied?”

“…”

It was a miracle my face didn’t explode. Hyun stared at my probably crimson face and slowly bent down. He picked up the discarded laptop and effortlessly placed it back on his lap. Then, he looked me up and down.

“It fits well. Come out after you dry your hair.”

“You, you… Why did you look at my messages?!”

“Who told you to leave them there?”

He replied matter-of-factly and returned to typing. My face burned even hotter as I tried to come up with an explanation to throw at his smooth face. But… I couldn’t say that word out loud. And it didn’t seem like he’d understand anyway.

I just gave up, roughly tousled my hair dry, and stormed out of the hotel. Unlike me, who had unintentionally revealed glimpses of my past relationships and sex life, Hyun seemed completely unfazed. Of course he would be. He hadn’t revealed anything. He got into the driver’s seat as soon as we reached the car and turned the wheel.

Whatever, life. Let it be. I rubbed my legs against the soft fabric of the new clothes and looked at the lights passing by outside the window. Memories flowed like the passing scenery.

Around two years into our relationship, our feelings had become worn down and broken by differences and misunderstandings. The moments when we were perfectly in sync had faded, and we were busy shoving any lingering doubts under the surface. Doubts like, how were we ever together when we’re so different?

Even if I stayed up all night messing around in the basement studio, I rarely had any missed calls, and Hyun no longer got angry at me. Feeling the slight distance that had grown between us, I wandered around, feeling a sense of relief. I spent a night out with Sungjae-hyung and met up with other people under the guise of seeing them one last time before my unavoidable military enlistment.

Then one day, I was returning home after bar-hopping all night, walking against the flow of the morning commute crowd. I passed by the convenience store in front of the university, and my steps stopped in front of the ice cream freezer outside. It wasn’t that I remembered anything specific at first; I was just looking around, trying to sober up. My hand rummaged through the cold ice cream with a rustling sound, and suddenly, my mind cleared. Why did we become like this?

Hyun no longer contacted me even if I met other people. And even though I knew Hyun was surrounded by people I didn’t know, doing things I didn’t know about, I just let it go. I didn’t know when our paths had stopped crossing. A few weeks? How long has it been?

Where did the Hyun who used to flip out if I even had ice cream with someone else go? Why did I find that comfortable? How could I have let that happen? Why did that sensitivity dull? When did the nerves that were once sharply attuned to each other become so blunted? Why?

“Excuse me. Close the door if you’re done picking your ice cream.”

“Oh… Sorry.”

As my fingertips started to go numb from the cold, the convenience store part-timer opened the door and called out. I grabbed a random ice cream and closed the door. The sharp beep of the scanner grated on my nerves. Why did we become like this?

I shoved the ice cream in my mouth and turned around. 6 a.m. It felt too early to call and wake him up. But I still wanted to see his face. It suddenly occurred to me that it had been a long time since I had even seen him. The times when we lay in the same bed, and I gazed endlessly at Hyun beside me. His long eyelashes resting on his still eyelids as he slept soundly. His languidly outstretched arm wrapped around me, and I held my breath close to him, cherishing even the air he exhaled. Those times.

With trembling hands, I took out the key card to his studio apartment from my wallet. The door opened, and I stepped into the quiet elevator, still empty of passengers. I reached his floor. Hesitating in front of his door, I punched in the passcode.

After entering the eight digits, the door unlocked with a click and opened. I had been there a few days ago, so there was no reason for the passcode to have changed, but I felt a slight sense of relief at this obvious fact as I went inside. I took off my shoes quietly. Very quietly.

My feet stopped as I walked past the long kitchen and into his room. I saw his hunched back as he sat up in bed. Hyun straightened his broad shoulders, raised his head, and saw me.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.”

His low, sleepy voice resonated. Hyun rubbed the back of his neck and looked me up and down with dull eyes.

“Why are you here?”

Feeling his lukewarm words and the smooth gaze fixed on me, I knew our feelings had cooled.

That interrogation and conversation earlier was really strange. What right did he have to question who I was seeing after he was the one who cooled off and broke up with me? And what was with that wording? Talking about me “picking up anything” and “eating.” It was too vulgar to have come from his mouth, which always pretended to be sophisticated and full of pretense.

The sound of the engine turning off broke the chain of my memories. My confused mind couldn’t place where we were, even though I had seen the route. While waiting for the elevator in the middle of the underground parking lot, I asked, trying to break the awkward silence,

“Where are we?”

“The building where Yoon Sunghee’s studio is.”

“Sunghee’s studio is here? She’s doing well.”

The last time I remembered Sunghee’s studio, it was the lower floor, about 4.5 pyeong (around 150 sq ft), of a cramped duplex studio apartment. She must be doing well. Good for her. Inside the elevator, Hyun pressed the button for the 17th floor. We walked down the clean hallway and knocked on the door of the last unit. A voice came from inside,

“Coming out now.”

As if she already knew who it was, the door swung open. In the middle of the entryway stood a petite woman with wavy hair cascading down to her chest. It was a familiar face I hadn’t seen in a while. Sunghee, smiling brightly as if to compensate for my inability to decide on an expression, took a step closer.

“Hello. And Jio oppa! It’s been so long. How have you been? Wow, you’ve been well. Look at your outfit. It’s so pretty.”

“Thanks.”

I was about to say that she was the one who’d given it to me, but Hyun, seeing Sunghee’s hand on my collar, glanced away and walked in first, acting as if it were his own office. Sunghee stepped aside, watching his back as he went in. I awkwardly followed, saying,

“No need to ask how you’ve been, Sunghee. You’re clearly doing well.”

“Hahaha. Doing well? If I knew you were going to quit the company like that, oppa, I wouldn’t have renewed my contract.”

Sunghee chattered away in a tone that didn’t quite match her bright smile as she led us inside. I followed, listening to her explanation. We passed rooms piled high with packaged bundles and another overflowing with fabric samples before arriving at a seemingly staged, clean space.

The floor was covered with a near-white gray carpet, and the walls were completely white. There were large-leafed plants, a large wooden table, and reflectors as tall as Sunghee stacked in a corner like Jenga blocks. Kicking and pushing them aside, Sunghee walked around to the other side of the table.

“Oppa, you were really too much. You should’ve told me beforehand if you were going to quit.”

“I didn’t know I was going to quit like that either.”

“Yeah, I heard that… Why did you change your phone number?”

“I didn’t want to be bothered back then.”

“The company said you quit because your father was sick and you had to take care of him. Is that true?”

I felt Hyun’s gaze linger on me as he placed his laptop on the table. I tried not to look at him and nodded slightly.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“They lied so much that I thought they were making up stories about being unfilial just to cover for you. Is your father okay now?”

“Fortunately, he’s okay. I was really worried back then, but thankfully he’s alright.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Cerebral hemorrhage.”

“Oh my, what a difficult time. You must have been through so much, oppa. Honestly, why didn’t you say anything to us? I would have sent you something nice if you had reached out.”

“Your thoughts are enough. I was in no state to contact anyone.”

I could finally sit down after settling Sunghee, who was being overly friendly. I briefly considered where to sit, but it didn’t seem appropriate to sit next to her while she was being interviewed. So, I awkwardly sat next to Hyun. Hyun pressed the record button and started the interview, maintaining an impassive expression.

“Let me begin with the questions.”

“Yes.”

“Damn it. I’m telling you, these guys are scammers. The video quality is shit, and they’re acting like they have exclusive rights to our contract.”

Sunghee, abandoning her previous affable tone, fanned her face repeatedly. She’d been going back and forth between talking to herself and getting worked up for a while now. The stream of curses had been going on for 30 minutes. People rarely praised the work I do or the company I used to work for, but it was clear she had a lot of complaints. I didn’t even need to be here.

Sunghee, you’re so honest and articulate. All I have to do is offer the occasional agreement.

“It was that bad?”

“If it was just that bad, we wouldn’t be making a fuss. Oppa, last month, a friend’s contract expired, and she didn’t renew it. You know what? Those Link bastards spread a rumor that she intentionally poached people from their company while she was still there. Crazy bastards. Ugh, I’m so pissed. We were already close, and she just pointed out their mistakes, but they twisted her words like that. Oppa, let’s have a drink sometime. Let’s get really wasted and spill everything. What happened to you because of those bastards is just…”

“What happened to me? I’m doing fine these days.”

It took more effort than I expected to say those words. I hope that shitty company goes bankrupt tomorrow. I wished it with all my heart.

“Oh, right. I heard you’re working in broadcasting now, oppa. Are you still filming? You can take charge of the promotional video for our brand launch.”

“Isn’t that under contract too?”

“They were so awful that I transferred it under my cousin’s name.”

“Isn’t that wrong?”

“Whatever. Let them sue me. It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve screwed up payments. I’ll just play dumb and say it was a mistake. ‘Oh, I didn’t know.’ What are they going to do? Oh, right. Around the time you left, they lied about their sales and future business plans, didn’t they? What kind of bastards are they?”

“I should’ve looked into it more carefully.”

“It’s the liars who are wrong!”

As I pretended to soothe Sunghee, who was getting worked up, I rested my arm on the table and turned slightly. Every time my stupid past was brought up, I couldn’t help but glance at Hyun. Wondering how pathetic he thought I was.

Fortunately, Hyun remained expressionless, looking down and seemingly checking something on his documents. My eyes followed his moving fingertips. I took in the incomprehensible models, graphs, and items before focusing back on Sunghee’s heated voice. Despite her loud voice, my concentration kept wavering. I pressed my thumb between my eyebrows and then released it. Sunghee, in the middle of ranting, suddenly seemed to come to her senses and composed herself.

“But I feel like I’ve been badmouthing your old company too much. Things were really good when you were there, oppa. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“We were so disappointed about how things turned out, we talked about it a lot. How did it even end up like this?”

“I know, right.”

“I really like you, oppa. And your friend too,” Sunghee said, giving a slight, polite smile towards Hyun.

“I wasn’t going to do the interview again after last time, but I’m doing it because you’re here, oppa, right? You were really too much back then.”

“What about back then?”

At her words, Hyun, who had been quietly listening, gave a short glance.

“I apologize if the questions were uncomfortable last time.”

“Yes, that’s right. I understand why you asked those things, but still, who asks those things so directly?”

“What did he ask?”

Sunghee shrugged slightly and then quickly blurted out, pretending to be nonchalant,

“About how often I and the others go to therapy for depression. And he even showed us statistics on the average lifespan of creators in our industry.”

“Ah…”

“My apologies.”

Hyun apologized again, only with different wording. I almost joined in and apologized to Sunghee with him. Of course, she wouldn’t open up in a deep interview if those were the questions being asked.

Before I left the company, Sungjae-hyung had planned a few advertisements to raise the profiles of creators. On subway pillars, bus stop walls, and so on. But the lifespan of creators was shorter than expected, and their influence fluctuated unpredictably. A creator promoted today might have a scandal tomorrow, or a superstar might suddenly emerge from an unexpected place.

Sunghee had lasted a long time and was considered successful. And the number of friends still active in the field… well, when I counted on my fingers, I had to start by subtracting one whole hand. I finally understood what Hyun meant when he repeatedly said that evaluating their worth was difficult.

Was I doing the right thing by helping Hyun, who was trying to find the weaknesses of the company I had poured everything into, a company that was now being so heavily criticized? As the abstract situation of the company I had known became concrete, I felt a tightness in my throat, as if something was stuck. Was it because of my tie? I loosened the knot slightly and took a deep breath. Beside me, the scratching sound stopped.

I saw the smooth fountain pen freeze in place. Sunghee also seemed to be choosing her words carefully. I calmly changed the subject.

“You’re good at taking pictures these days. Your videos are good too.”

“You’ve seen my work?”

“Sometimes.”

“I pretend to do it all myself, but I end up relying on the editors.”

Fortunately, Sunghee readily followed the change in topic.

“I’ve worked with a lot of people, and I think you’re the best at taking pictures of people, oppa.”

“There are a lot of good photographers these days.”

“No, oppa, you’re truly the best.”

As if to lighten the mood, Sunghee suddenly threw a pointless comment at Hyun.

“Isn’t the reason Jio oppa is good at taking pictures of people so romantic?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hey, hey. Why are you doing this?”

What? What is it? I didn’t remember immediately, but seeing her sparkling eyes, it was clear I had made a mistake. What was it? What did I say?

“Come on. Why? I thought it was so cool.”

Sunghee clasped her hands together over her heart, her eyes sparkling, as if about to say something ridiculous. Crazy. Don’t tell me it’s that from back then! I jumped up in a panic, but before I could reach her, she said,

“Oppa got so good at taking pictures of people and filming beautiful videos because he always took pictures of his girlfriend, right?”

“Hey! Stop it!”

“Why? I heard he’d been doing that ever since he first picked up a camera at twenty. Oh, you were college classmates, right? Have you seen Jio oppa’s girlfriend?”

Even Hyun, who had been observing the interview with a frosty expression, seemed unsure of what expression to make at this moment. I couldn’t grab Hyun because I was holding onto Sunghee’s shoulders, so I just glared at him fiercely. Shut up. Please shut up. Hyun, clearly seeing the desperation in my eyes, nodded slightly as if he understood, and then said,

“Yes.”

“Really? Wow. It seemed like Jio oppa still hasn’t forgotten her.”

“No! That’s not true!”

“Oh, alright. Why are you shouting, oppa?”

Sunghee, freed from my grasp, looked at Hyun as if trying to form some dreadful bond and whispered,

“See? He still hasn’t forgotten her.”

“Oh, please.”

I felt all the blood drain from my heart and a chilling dizziness spread through me. I couldn’t control the burning in my face. Sunghee finally shut up after seeing me contort my face as if I were about to rip it apart. Sunghee, what’s the point of shutting up now? It’s too late. It’s not true. It’s not.

As I stumbled back to my seat, Hyun kindly pretended not to notice, finishing his notes and capping his fountain pen. Then he gave his closing remarks.

“Thank you for the interview today. If the company asks, please just say that we had a brief question-and-answer session.”

“Okay. I wasn’t planning on telling them much anyway. If you have any more questions, please contact me here.”

Sunghee pushed a square business card towards Hyun, as if she had prepared it in advance. Hyun took it and pulled out his wallet, which was already packed with cards.

“Alright.”

“I’ll definitely contact you, Jio oppa. Are you still not running your studio?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then I’ll ask a friend if I can borrow theirs, so definitely…”

“I have a camera. Thanks for the offer though.”

“It’s more than just an offer. Oh, right. Can you take a picture of me for my Instagram?”

“Why? You’re good at it. Do it yourself.”

“I’m still nowhere near as good as you, oppa.”

Fortunately, she handed me her phone instead of a fancy camera. I fiddled with the settings of the default camera app, adjusting the focus while checking the studio lighting and the light coming in from outside. Saturation, brightness, exposure. After adjusting a few things, I took a picture of her profile as she looked out the window, pretending to be contemplative.

“Sunghee, act more pretty.”

“I’m always pretty.”

As she made a flower pose under her chin, I snapped a picture. Seeing her looking extra pretty today made me reluctant to agree. Handing her back the phone, I said casually,

“I don’t know about that.”

“Hey, you always tell me I’m pretty, and now you’re acting like this because your friend is here.”

Sunghee, zooming in and scrutinizing her picture on the phone, added,

“Oh, love truly is the best. You take such good pictures, oppa.”

“I’m not going to answer your calls.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that, do you?”

“No, I’m serious.”

I glumly waved at Sunghee, who was seeing us off at the door with a bright smile.

“Bye. I’ll call you!”

“Take care.”

I muttered the words I really wanted to say under my breath. Sunghee, you shouldn’t have said that… I’m only acting like this because Hyun is here. And you shouldn’t have said that either… But reacting defensively like that would have been too much of an overreaction, so I couldn’t say anything.

After the final goodbyes and the door closed, I felt like the last of my energy was draining through my feet. As we walked down the hallway, I stared intently at the emergency exit signs. Then, cautiously, I glanced at Hyun beside me. He was checking messages on his phone, his expression impassive. But when he turned his gaze towards me, as if by chance, there was definitely something in his eyes. With that look, he abruptly said,

“I got it.”

“No, what Sunghee said is absolutely not true.”

“I said I understood what she meant.”

Seeing the slight upward twitch of his lips, a hint of a smile at the end of his calm expression, made me want to scream.

“Hey! I said it’s not true. None of it is true!”

Ugh. Ugh. Money. What is money that I have to come all the way here and suffer this humiliation? Ugh!

It hadn’t been long since I fell asleep after checking the filming proposal that had come in after a night of editing. The phone on my bedside table vibrated incessantly. This usually meant there was a problem with the shoot. I ignored it, thinking, “whatever happens, happens,” but the vibration started again for the fourth time.

I forced my sticky eyes open. My eyeballs felt like they were about to explode. I wondered if the hospital had found something bad during my father’s checkup. Subconsciously, I reached for whatever was within reach above my head. Pressing my throbbing forehead with my left palm, I checked the phone. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was an unknown number. Closing my eyes again, I brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello.”

―Jio.

“Who…”

I wasn’t pretending. I genuinely didn’t recognize the voice. Just as I was about to drift back to sleep, my cheek buried in the pillow, my mind snapped awake as it caught a specific memory. A chilling sensation crept up from my toes like rising cold water. I bent my stiff knees, remaining silent. The voice on the phone called me again, in a friendly tone.

―Shin Jio. How have you been?

“…It’s been a while.”

I felt my voice come out low and strained. I cleared my throat, and my vision became clearer. I had planned to blame just waking up if they asked why my voice sounded strange, but the person on the other end continued in a level, even cheerful, tone, seemingly unconcerned about my voice.

―I should have contacted you at least once, but I’m so late. How have you been?

I lay back down, staring at the pattern on the ceiling, then closed my dry eyes.

“So-so.”

―I heard you’re working on the project Yongho introduced you to. How is it?

“…Just getting by.”

I didn’t even know what I was saying. I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked it. Because of people who kept changing their stories every time we went out for filming, I had set the phone to automatically record calls. The function was working properly today as well.

The voice came faintly from the slightly distanced phone.

―I was busy with work and then I thought of you and called.

The same discomfort I felt in front of Sunghee crept up from my chest. It wasn’t just because I was hearing this voice after a long time. It was the unsettling certainty that the interviews I was conducting were negatively impacting the company.

“I’ve been well. How about you, hyung?”

Even that short lie made my stomach churn. I listened to the rambling voice on the other end and finally interrupted.

“I have something to do right now. I’ll call you back.”

―I must have called at a bad time. We should meet up.

“Yes.”

―Where are you these days? I’ll come to you.

“It’s okay. You said you were busy.”

I tried to deflect, but he was persistent. I tried saying, “My schedule is project-based, so it’s unpredictable,” but he said he could work around it, leaving me with no way out. I gave the short answer of a subway station name. He finally sounded like he was ready to end the call.

―Okay. I’ll contact you when I go there. Let’s talk face-to-face.

“Alright.”

After the short reply, I threw the phone over my head. I heard it roll on the floor with an unsettling sound, a sound that suggested it hadn’t just landed with a thud. But I didn’t have the energy to look. I closed my eyes and covered them with the back of my hand. A weight heavier than the oppressive darkness seemed to press down on me. A nervous flutter in my stomach, a sharp anxiety, and amidst it all, a thought I’d been avoiding surfaced.

The things I had dedicated my twenties to were crumbling one by one. If all of this disappeared, what would be left of me?

Our breakup was clean. So clean it felt unreal. Even after his gaze towards me had cooled, Hyun never said, “Let’s break up.” Seasons changed. In the meantime, my insides burned with anxiety, but I was afraid that if I fussed, things would get worse. Afraid I’d be a burden. Or that he’d grow sick of me. A variety of emotions were eating away at me.