A Perfectly Normal Romance Chapter 2.4 - I Hate You

Well. What was Hyun thinking at that time? Was he cutting me out like he was removing a cancerous tumor? Was he prepared? Anyway.

That restaurant in front of our school, the one we used to frequent, was actually pretty decent. That day, a little after lunchtime, the midday sun was shining brightly. I remember Hyun, after finishing his meal, neatly placing his spoon and chopsticks, unlike usual.

‘Jio.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Let’s break up.’

I don’t know why, but I had a feeling he would say those words that day. I felt like he would say it on that particular day. Because… if you were human, I didn’t think you’d just stand there and watch me burn alone any longer. You weren’t that bad of a guy. I figured you wouldn’t torture someone for months, let alone years.

So, those words finally came out that day. The words “let’s break up.” Did he wait until we finished eating before saying it so that at least we’d break up after a meal? I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what expression to make. I just bit my lower lip as if enduring it and took a sip of water. Another sip. Slowly. Hyun was watching every single one of my actions. As if he intended to imprint it all in his memory, even though he’d just broken up with me.

So, I think that’s why I gave that answer.

‘I’ll think about it.’

After saying those words, I got up from my seat first. Hyun was still watching me as I stood up. He didn’t follow me out. Turning around and walking away, I replayed the words I had uttered in my dazed mind. I almost tripped on the stairs leading down from the restaurant as my feet tangled.

Think about it? What was I going to do? If I said I didn’t want to break up, would we not break up? That’s not how it works. But why did I say that? I should have just said okay. I knew this day would come. Whether I said it first or he did.

That day passed slowly and sluggishly. Every moment I had to do something felt dreadful. My whole body ached as if my blood was drying up, wherever I touched. It was a pain difficult to describe. Should I contact him now and tell him okay? As if nothing happened. As if everything was settled. Or…….

The reason I asked to meet him again that evening was because I felt like my overloaded brain would explode if I kept agonizing over it. Clutching my churning stomach, I sat alone on a park bench behind Hyun’s officetel. I couldn’t bring myself to go up to his officetel and face him in that room.

Hyun answered my call immediately and didn’t ask any questions when I asked him to come down. Soon, a tall figure opened the back door, came out, and trudged down the stairs. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier that day. Hyun looked good in shirts. He had a naturally good physique, and I liked how they subtly revealed every part of his long, lean body. He looked good in every season, but especially in this season.

So he broke up with me looking his best.

Hyun sat next to me without saying a word, leaving a small gap between us. The dim light of the streetlamp shone down from the top of his head. The weight that had been swaying back and forth in my heart all day suddenly tilted.

‘Hyun.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll… do better.’

In the end, I said those words. Many words and sentences swirled and tangled in my mind, turning into a mess.

There might come a day when it’s our end. I know that could happen. But I hoped that day wouldn’t be today. Just a little. Just a little more time until I disliked you enough, couldn’t we break up then?

Of course, I didn’t think you would give in. Still, at that moment, I couldn’t help but say those words. Because I was afraid of regretting it. What if I regretted it? To turn around pretending I wasn’t bothered, pretending it was over for me too, was still too…

Emotions welled up in Hyun’s cold eyes. Blink. Blink. Something filled his dry gaze with each blink of his eyelids. After a long time, Hyun placed his hand on the back of mine. A warm sensation warmed my hand. It felt as if he still remembered the feeling of his thumb rubbing against my skin.

‘No, Jio.’

Hyun, who said so, had the same gentle expression he had when he first came down from Daeun’s house.

‘Just like I can’t, you won’t be able to either.’

The key to this sentence was probably the first part. Just like I can’t.

‘We’re different.’

‘…….’

I struggled to suppress the grimace that threatened to distort my face as I fought back tears.

I purposely turned on the cold water to cool down my swollen eyes from lack of sleep. Only after washing my face with cold water until it felt numb did I come to my senses. Even the spaces between my fingers felt cold. I dried my face with the towel hanging around my neck and slowly returned to my room.

Seongjae hyung seemed really impatient. He had been contacting me for days, and he finally insisted on seeing me, even if it was just for a moment, this evening. It was an incredibly swift move. As fast as the day he cleared his desk out of the office as soon as I said I was leaving. I glared at the message and then got up from my seat.

I couldn’t help but be curious. Of course, inappropriate curiosity was mixed in as well. Were things going well for him? Or not? Everyone outside was saying negative things, but you never know. Maybe he was doing relatively okay and living well, better than expected.

I pulled on a baseball cap haphazardly, shoved my feet into my sneakers, and went down the narrow stairs. Fixing my gaze on the edge of my half-obscured vision by the brim of the cap, I tried to recall the last image of the company etched in my memory.

It had become a habit at some point. When my thoughts kept drifting back to the past, I would pull down my cap, as if trying to observe that moment hidden in the shadows. And I would walk endlessly. To any place I could walk, until the moment I collapsed from exhaustion. Fortunately, my walk was scheduled to end not too far away today. Should I even call this fortunate?

As soon as I left the building and turned down an alley, a car was already parked at the entrance. Seeing the sleek exterior of the foreign car, I thought, “No way,” but the driver’s side window rolled down, and I heard a voice calling me. As I stood there, still frozen, a person got out of the car. See? Everyone says they’re dying, but they’re all living well.

Seongjae hyung’s eyes subtly moved up and down as he stood before me. Since I didn’t care anymore, I didn’t hide it and scanned him up and down. And I offered my observation.

“Hyung, you seem successful.”

“Successful? What success? I just dressed up for you today. You… have you been well?”

“I guess.”

He wasn’t the type to downplay his success, but today his answer was vague. That he dressed up like this because of me. It’s ridiculous. He was the guy who, around the time I left, would dress up in expensive clothes, spending all his money, even company funds. Wasn’t that the beginning of the company’s downfall, all that money spent on meeting people and entertainment expenses, which we overlooked? I was about to point it out but then closed my mouth.

Hyung seemed to have gained a bit more weight since I last saw him. Not in a good way; it looked like he’d put on more weight from drinking. His slicked-back hair and brightly colored tie suggested he was used to dressing himself up. Even more so than when I knew him. My efforts to find traces of the twenty-year-old hyung who used to sit in the club room wearing a checkered shirt felt utterly futile.

When he asked if there were any good places nearby, I just pointed to a nearby Hof (Korean pub). Looking at the place I pointed to, he said,

“Let’s go somewhere nicer. If there’s anything you want to eat, tell me now, while you have the chance.”

“I want the chicken there.”

“I should have made a reservation somewhere. Next time, I’ll make a reservation in advance.”

He subtly slipped in the word “next time.” I knew it was meaningless. I didn’t respond much and just headed into the restaurant.

Sitting in the middle of the shabby Hof, I opened the menu, which was endlessly long. They had everything. When he asked what I wanted to eat, I just picked chicken. It wasn’t out of preference for chicken, but rather out of indifference. It’s not like we were going to have a good time choosing food and chatting happily together. To be precise, I wasn’t.

He would probably just say, “What are you doing with your life, you punk?”

And I would retort, “Isn’t your business going well? Failing already?” before kicking the table over and leaving. What good would it do to meticulously choose food just to say those words?

The ajumma (middle-aged woman) who took our order took the menu away entirely. I stared at her face, which had become chubbier than before, fiddled with the beer glass that arrived first, and just blurted out something.

“You look well.”

“No, I haven’t been looking good lately because of all the headaches I’ve been having.”

I said it even though I knew he looked well. It was clear that his face was just puffy and his complexion wasn’t good. I tossed a handful of the complimentary popcorn into my mouth and shook one leg. Despite my attitude, hyung remained affable.

“I heard you’re working in broadcasting.”

“It just happened that way.”

“That’s good. You’ve always liked videos. I thought something like documentaries would suit you.”

“You thought so, hyung?”

That’s strange. To be precise, he had said, “It’s not even a documentary, it’s commercial, why are you messing around with this kind of stuff?” I looked at him with an unfamiliar expression, not hiding my surprise. Did his brain automatically reconstruct memories to his advantage? Or did he know and still say this without changing his expression? I knew it was the latter. I knew, yet I was still amazed. I would never be able to be like this person.

Despite my lukewarm response, hyung didn’t stop acting friendly.

“It’s good to see you after so long.”

“Yeah.”

It’s not good for me. Thanks to you, I had a dream about being dumped again, after so long.

While responding with a half-hearted attitude, the food arrived. Poking at it with my chopsticks, I thought, I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. Because of the dream I had before coming out, my mood was down and gloomy.

Hyung tried to steer the conversation to other topics for a few more words, then finally gave up and brought up the main subject.

“We’re working on something related to the company. Your close friend is there. The one… the one who didn’t like me.”

“Hyun?”

“Yeah, him.”

“He’s intense. Is it going well?”

“Haha.”

Hyung, who had been speaking nicely until now, couldn’t bring himself to say it was going well, even as a courtesy.

“I remember he didn’t like it when you kept calling him out. Why was that again?”

“He said I kept pulling him away from team projects.”

“Ah. That’s right. I remember.”

Back then, that was the best excuse we had for our relationship. I had overlapped with Hyun in as many classes as possible, and we always formed a team for group projects. Every time, Hyun would curse under his breath but would still check my part and lead the project. I knew my attitude toward grades, so I kept telling him to do it without me, but he insisted on doing it together. Thanks to the grades I received then, I was thankfully able to meet my graduation requirements.

I scooped up some eomuktang (fish cake soup) with my spoon. Everything I was doing at this table was just a pretext. I briefly wet my lips, put the spoon down, and casually asked,

“Hyung.”

“Yeah, Jio.”

“Things aren’t going well, are they?”

“Haha.”

Hyung laughed again. I don’t know if it was meant to be a hearty laugh, but it just dissipated with a hollow echo. It was even drowned out by the distant sound of the TV. I just stared at him until his expression turned awkward.

“Company work is never easy.”

“I see.”

“Especially since that friend of yours is so meticulous.”

“He’s always been like that.”

“That friend… I heard he doesn’t contact you, but it seems like you two are still on good terms.”

“We really haven’t been in contact.”

I looked away again, using the food as an excuse.

“It’s just that I contacted him again recently because of the company.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“You came knowing I’m doing interviews, right?”

“Not entirely.”

This reply faded away even more emptily. The chicken here tastes worse than I expected. I thought it would be decent since they had an old poster about changing the oil daily or something. The dry meat and the oily smell aren’t great either. I took a bite, chewed, and put the fork down.

This moment was also worse than I expected. I thought I’d be able to enjoy or mock this situation a bit more, but that’s not the case. Well, it can’t be helped. It can’t be a purely joyful thing that the company I was a part of is going down the drain.

“Jio.”

His voice was incredibly gentle as he called me. I looked up and met his gaze. His expression said, “Go ahead, tell me.” I had never been treated like this by him, but he seemed to have developed quite a bit of patience since I last saw him.

This time, without another word, he took out an envelope from his pocket and placed it on the table. Oh. Here it comes. It looks thin, but… I shoved another piece of dry chicken into my mouth and chewed. It was a way to avoid speaking.

“I know we need to talk and clear things up, but take this first.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always felt bad about not taking care of you properly when you left because things were tough back then. I just brought this much because I came straight here, but once the company is doing well, I’ll take care of you more.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘take care of me.’ Severance pay?”

“It should be more than that. You worked so hard for Link from the beginning.”

Like his unfamiliar appearance, his words were strange. I don’t think I heard anything like this when I left. Pretending to pick at my ear, I straightened my back and sat back loosely.

“Did I? In my memory…”

Even if I tried to recall, it was already a long time ago. There would be no end if I brought up every little detail. Even back then, he wore a tie like that, one that didn’t suit him at all.

“Remember that time we went to the leadership camp? The one hyung learned about at some training session.”

“That time was…”

He coughed and wiped his mouth, which meant he remembered. It must have been quite memorable for him too. Before he could change the subject, I struck first.

“I attended because you said it was so important. I asked you to excuse me because my father had collapsed and wasn’t doing well.”

“That’s… that’s right. I was immature back then. Blinded by the desire to make the company successful.”

“Ah. So that’s why.”

It was after he had rented a seminar room and grilled everyone from morning till evening about the company’s vision and future growth potential, that he finally gathered the fifteen people in a circle, saying it was the last activity. I had to catch the train after this. I anxiously checked my phone several times because of the ticket I had booked for the evening rush hour. Was it about praising each other’s capabilities? After a few turns, it was Seongjae hyung’s turn. He entered the circle and called me.

“I want to praise Team Leader Shin Jio.”

All eyes turned to me. I awkwardly stood up and went to the center, still fiddling with my phone. While I was busy racking my brain for something to praise, with everyone’s eyes on me, hyung held both my hands tightly and said,

“I always say I work day and night for the company, but who works as hard as Jio? I truly respect you.”

Thanks to the vivid memory of that day, I can still remember the air of that afternoon. And the words he said, gripping my hand as if afraid I’d escape, while wearing a pleasant smile.

“‘If it were me, I’d be by my only father’s side. Thank you for staying with the company until the end. You’re amazing,’ right?”

The desire in his gleaming eyes that glared at me, and the heat from his grip that felt like it would break my fingers. I leaned closer, resting my arm on the table, to observe hyung’s lips, which looked chapped as if he was at a loss for words. Seeing him now, no different from that day, made the days we used to share cup ramen in the basement workroom seem so distant. He wasn’t like this back then. Or maybe… I don’t know. Maybe even back then, who knows.

“Jio, I understand now after seeing my mother sick. Being by their side is what you regret the least… and I was also truly grateful for how hard you worked back then.”

But, damn it, knowing that, how could you, as soon as you heard my father was sick, use that to get my shares, saying you would quit work and take care of your father, that it wasn’t because you had a bad relationship with him, poking and tearing at my wounds like that? And then, to top it all off, pulling that stunt in front of everyone?

Sigh. It’s all pointless. A gust of wind blew up, tickling my bangs. I ruffled my hair and glared at him irritably, and he leaned closer.

“Jio, let’s talk about the company again. There was some misunderstanding between us back then. It’s not right to do this to a company with dozens of employees just because of a misunderstanding. Not because of me, but for our colleagues. Think about them. You know what I mean, right? Junwoo got married recently, too.”

“I heard.”

“You heard?”

“Yes. I didn’t get a call or an invitation, but I heard about it. I heard he’s doing well.”

I heard he got married at some hotel. And I heard rumors about his new apartment. It wasn’t just empty talk; it seemed like he was genuinely doing well.

Hyung’s eyes, now looking desperate as if he had nothing more to say, wandered across the table. Meanwhile, the flat envelope aroused pure curiosity. I reached out and picked it up. I slid my thumb and index finger along the opening and shook it upside down.

A single, thin piece of paper fell out. A white check slipped halfway out. It took me a while to register the exact amount because I was busy counting the zeros. After checking, I put it back in and placed the envelope back on the table.

“Hyung, do you remember what I said before?”

“What did you say?”

“I said I couldn’t understand people’s hearts, so I would decide based on their face. When was it? When you were giving me relationship advice, you asked about my type, and I said that.”

“Oh, right.”

His expression as he answered showed he didn’t remember a thing. Just like the first time I heard it in the club room, I could read his expression, “What’s with this guy?”

“Similar to that…”

I pushed the envelope back toward him.

“I was going to decide based on the amount because I didn’t know hyung’s true intentions, but this is too little.”

I think as I walk down the short street: I’m glad I did the interviews. My current actions were entirely thanks to the interview fee. If it weren’t for that, I might have accepted that thin envelope.

I’m glad. I’m really glad. I repeated it to myself, then finally, “Damn it. My life. What’s so great about rejecting money from my former company by accepting money from my ex-boyfriend?” And hyung, if you’re going to bribe me, at least offer more. It needs to be at least a hundred million won for me to be surprised and moved enough to even consider it. You’re still such a cheapskate.

My phone, tucked away in my hoodie pocket, vibrated again. I checked if it was Seongjae hyung calling again, but it was Hyun. Did he contact me knowing I was meeting with Seongjae hyung? I stopped and looked around, but there wasn’t even a similar physique nearby. He was the type that stood out, so if he wasn’t visible, he definitely wasn’t there. The message was short:

[Are you free next Friday evening?]

[Probably. Whose interview is it this time?]

[No. Our last interview.]

Last interview. A fitting end. I decided to think of it that way. While swallowing with a tightened throat and replying, I remembered what had just happened. Should I tell him this too? That Seongjae hyung knew about the interviews and came to see me. This seems like work-related, right?

Since it would take too long to type it all out, I pressed the call button. As soon as the ringing stopped, I blurted out my business.

“I just met Seongjae hyung.”

―That CEO?

“Yeah. He knew about the interviews. Is that okay?”

―What did he say?

“Nothing much. Something about the company, blah blah blah.”

―Is that all?

“Yeah.”

I decided not to mention the money since I didn’t accept it anyway. While climbing the stairs one by one, Hyun’s voice became clearer.

―Don’t answer his calls or meet him again.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

―Be careful at night.

“As if anything would happen.”

―I told you before.

Hyun’s voice was tinged with a sigh when he said this.

―Be careful.

“…….”

When did he ever say that? He said he hadn’t been sleeping; it seemed like there was something wrong with his memory. He kept saying nonsense.

―I’m in a meeting, so I’ll hang up. Talk to you later.

“You were in a meeting?”

As if he hadn’t heard my reply, the call disconnected immediately, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps.

˙✧˖🎥⋆˙

The atmosphere in the office was terrible again today. It’s amazing how it can be this awful all the time. Everything is haphazard, problems arise from unbelievable mistakes, and things get resolved by some miracle, somehow keeping things rolling. It’s shocking. I feel like I could find examples of every social ill and organizational problem within these walls.

“Hey, you trash!”

The main writer’s yelling voice was tremendous today, as always. Our main writer yells first whenever a problem arises. Even though this is a production company outsourced by a public broadcasting station, and she’s the main writer, you’d think she would send an official letter or look into legal advice or procedures when a problem occurs, but the company’s procedure is to pick up the phone and yell.

And it’s amazing. Even a company like this manages to function somehow, so what did Seongjae hyung mess up so badly that his company is going under?

While I was having these sugar-deprived thoughts, the main writer’s screaming phone call ended. She threw her phone onto the desk. The youngest writer, who had been trembling beside her, asked,

“Unnie, what did they say…?”

“They said, ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ and hung up? Wow. So they think whoever films first gets it all? Crazy bastards. Argh!”

After the verbal confrontation, now it was time for the physical one. The main writer grabbed her bag and stormed out. Her coat was still hanging on the back of her chair.

When the main writer didn’t return by lunchtime, the sub-writer and a few staff members exchanged glances, went out for lunch, and came back. I joined them. I sipped on the sweet drinks we each held. I didn’t used to like having something sweet after a meal, but it had become a habit. While waiting for the crosswalk light to change in front of the office, passionately badmouthing the PD as usual, the sub-writer said,

“I think… I think the reason things are so messed up is because the PD and the assistant director’s skills overlap.”

“Huh?”

“The assistant director’s strengths overlap with the PD’s. That’s why I think it’s like this.”

“In what way?”

“Videos. PD Choi is competing with the assistant director over videos.”

With this unbelievable statement, the sub-writer alternated sips between the two coffees she held.

“Every PD has their specialty, right? Some are good with composition, some with reporting. PD Choi, annoying as he is, is pretty good with videos, but the assistant director is also really good with videos, so… I think he feels a sense of competition.”

“I’d rather he just let me live than feel competitive.”

The sub-writer laughed at her own scary comment, then seeing my despairing face, tried to reassure me by saying,

“I’m joking. I think the PD thinks highly of the assistant director, right? Last week, when the manager asked the PD if the assistant director was doing well, he said yes.”

“PD Choi did?”

“Yes, really. In that tone, you know? ‘He’s doing well. He’s working hard.’ Snarky.”

“Since that makes no sense, I won’t ask any more.”

“Oh well, I don’t really want to explain either. Let’s just keep badmouthing him.”

“Okay.”

That’s exactly what I wanted. After taking a sip of my coffee, the topic of PD Choi praising me completely disappeared between us.

“What are you doing on Friday, assistant director? The sound director is having a housewarming party this week.”

“Uh… I have plans.”

“Can’t you cancel? It seems like everyone’s going.”

“No. It’s the last time I’m doing something with a friend.”

“Oh, that? Did you make a lot of money from the interviews?”

“Yeah, I made a lot.”

“Wow. You’re openly saying you made a lot, so it must have been really good.”

It was good. And I knew for sure. We’re not good together. Because the memories I’ve piled up in my heart keep resurfacing.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of getting a new camera thanks to it.”

“Oh, wow. That friend is the one, right? The one who picked you up that time you were filming in the rain.”

“Yeah.”

“I heard he drives a Benz. A really high-class one. Is that true?”

“I don’t know much about car models. But it’s a Benz.”

“And I heard he’s pale and looks annoyingly handsome.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. As soon as the staff started saying things like ‘He looks pale,’ ‘He looks sensitive,’ I knew. He’s freaking handsome.”

The description seemed a bit weak, so I added,

“He looks that way, but he’s got a good physique.”

“Oh my. So good.”

I chuckled at the sub-writer’s pretense of biting the coffee straw with her front teeth. This kind of situation was all too familiar since I was twenty.

“Assistant director, invite me sometime if you have drinks with that friend.”

“Haha. If I drink with him, I’ll probably get frustrated and go home.”

“Oh, are you turning me down?”

“It’s really not like that.”

If I drank with Hyun, I might actually throw something and start a fight. Argh, I want to grab him by the collar. Just once, couldn’t I? I thought to myself, then laughed and felt embarrassed.

Friday morning. Or rather, late morning. Wiping my still-damp face with a towel, I stood in front of the cramped clothes rack. Looking at the clothes packed so tightly it was hard to even get my hands in, I pondered. What should I wear? Comfortable? Uncomfortable?

My hand hovered over my usual sweatshirt, then skipped over a few hangers before landing on the smooth shoulder line of a semi-formal jacket. I wondered if it would look awkward to dress up like this, then…

Wait, Hyun always dresses up. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I grabbed the outfit I’d been agonizing over. I put on the most wrinkle-free white t-shirt I could find, blow-dried my hair, neatly styled it with wax, and smoothed down any flyaways.

In the mirror, I saw a tidy appearance I hadn’t seen in a while. To shake off the awkward feeling, I messed up my hair slightly and thought, so what? He’ll probably show up in a neatly tied tie and cufflinks, using the excuse that he just came from work.

During the short commute to the office, I received another useless message. Truly useless. After blocking Seongjae hyung, the next day it was Junwoo, and the day after that, someone else. They all started with “How have you been?” and so on. I’d given up on replying to numbers I didn’t recognize.

Most of the incoming messages were overly friendly and excessively polite, almost like multi-level marketing pitches. Today’s was top-tier. Junwoo, who I was about to block, sent a picture message. A picture of a newborn baby, still unable to open its eyes properly. Dumbfounded, I stared at it, and then the message arrived.

[This is our newborn son. He’s a month old. Come see him when things settle down.]

“Seriously, what a load of…”

Still, I zoomed in on the picture and looked at the chubby cheeks, the tightly clenched hands. No matter how much I looked, I couldn’t tell if the baby resembled Junwoo or not. It was his baby’s picture, right? They couldn’t be that crazy. I hoped. Another headache struck. I banged my head against the bus window and closed my eyes.

As soon as I entered the office, as expected, I felt all eyes on me. I pretended not to notice and walked to my desk, thinking, do I usually dress this sloppily? In cases like this, I shouldn’t be proud but worried about my past self. Today, everyone who passed by said something like,

“Where are you going today?”

“Yes, I have something important to do. I’m sorry I can’t make it to the housewarming party.”

Even the sub-writer, who was wearing a hat pulled down low as she wrote something, did the same. Since we’d gone out together for coffee, she grinned and teased,

“Assistant Director, if you were going to dress up so nicely today, you should have told me. I look like a mess.”

“Next week, I’ll dress especially messy for you.”

“Should I have dressed up like you today? That’s daunting.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“Dress like this more often. For our well-being.”

The sub-writer’s tone, mimicking the booming voice of an elderly department head expressing admiration, was hilarious.

I sat at my desk in the office, watching videos, but the day passed without me really knowing what I was watching. It was as if there was a hole in my head, and my thoughts were leaking out. At one point, it got so bad that the PD suddenly leaned against my partition and started to pick a fight.

“Jio, are you going to another interview after work today?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“…Yes?”

Even after answering, I couldn’t remember what I’d said for a moment, so I just stared blankly at the PD. Only later did I realize what I had said.

“Ah, I didn’t hear you for a second because of the editing. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.”

Fortunately, the PD, seeing my dazed state, gave me a thoroughly exasperated look and went back to his seat.

People started to leave their desks one by one, and I, after cautiously observing them, got up as well. Exchanging the customary “Good work” greetings, I left the office and went out to the building lobby. There, parked brazenly in the crowded roadside during rush hour, was that car. I only learned the model name after the sub-writer asked me about it and I searched it online.

I circled around slightly to check the license plate and hesitantly approached the car door again. Though uncomfortable, I couldn’t bring myself to open the back door, so I opened the passenger side door. I lowered myself into the seat and closed the door, and the surrounding noise became muffled and distant. I sank into the supportive seat and turned to look beside me. Hyun had one hand on the steering wheel.

“I thought I’d see you there.”

“I finished early.”

And I don’t really remember what we talked about after that. After spending the entire day in uncomfortable clothes and an uncomfortable place, sitting in a seat that melted my body away had its effect. My mind kept drifting, and I felt drowsy. I’d nod off, and when I woke up, I’d occasionally glance at him. Each time I did, I thought, I’m glad I made an effort to dress decently today.

The corners of his eyes looked a little tired, but even the slow blinking of his eyelids seemed meaningful in his profile. Hyun, sitting in the driver’s seat, was wearing a three-piece suit, as if he’d just come from a presentation. I could see the vest underneath his jacket, hugging his well-proportioned chest and neatly cinched waist. He still dresses well, I thought, then, remembering the past, turned back to the front to manage my expression.

Hyun, despite looking like he’d be good at picking out clothes, was surprisingly bad at coordinating them, so he tended to buy outfits straight off the mannequins. Or buy exactly what he saw in catalogs. And he’d just rotate through the same colors. I wonder if he still does that. I wonder if he still gets that serious expression when choosing clothes.

The car drove along the narrow road beside Cheonggyecheon Stream. Passing towering buildings and dense crowds, we arrived at the underground parking lot of an old building. Unlike before, when we always went to places where a valet would rush out asking to park the car. And more than anything…

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here. What’s up?”

“Just because.”

It was hard to believe, coming from a guy who had a reason for every action. I stared at him, and he finally added,

“I was thinking about it.”

At his words, I looked at the worn building directory by the passage leading from the underground parking lot to the ground level. I remembered that a bar we frequented in college was on the second floor. I couldn’t recall why we used to come all the way to Jongno when we could have just eaten near school. And I didn’t know Hyun still remembered this place.

The bar on the second floor was more spacious than I remembered, with each table partitioned off, offering a good view of the bustling street outside. This is where Seungpyo, tongue-tied, used to ramble on to Hyun. Asking him to go downstairs and set up a four-on-four. Just to stand there once. Of course, it never happened.

We were led to a table by the window, away from the noisy crowd. I was surprised they had a window seat available, especially since we didn’t have a reservation.

As I settled into the slightly worn, soft faux leather chair, our eyes met. I looked away first. I glanced at a spot an inch away from the corner of my eye, near my ear, then at the faces of the people behind me, and finally out the window.

I could see the still-dizzying neon signs and the relatively modern, trendy signs lining the streets. Barbecue restaurants, bars, and trendy restaurants nestled in between, creating a dense tapestry of light. The ground had lost its original color, covered in discarded flyers. Watching the people passing by, I offered a genuine observation.

“It’s the same.”

People kept saying it was past its prime, but seeing it now, there was no sign of that.

“I heard this area’s gone downhill, but it seems like just talk.”

“People just say that.”

Hyun replied, picking up the soju bottle placed on the table with a familiar gesture. The colorful neon lights reflecting on his pale face made his expression unreadable.

The tendons on the back of his hand momentarily tightened, and with a pop, the soju bottle cap opened. I quietly watched as the small, clear soju glass was filled. I wondered why this scene, which seemed so out of place, felt so familiar. It was probably because there was a time when you used to hang out in places like this with us, drinking until your face turned red. Yes, there was a time when our lives overlapped like that.

Seeing him fill his glass, I belatedly held out mine. He poured me a moderate amount, a little over half full. Seeing the difference in levels, I subtly asked,

“Why did you pour me less?”

“You’re annoying when you’re drunk.”

The way he slightly wrinkled his nose as he said that was just like when we used to go back to the same house. It was incredibly similar.

The glasses were filled repeatedly. Because there weren’t many things we could talk about. We emptied our glasses, stared blankly at something, and talked a little about work.

“Once I’m done with the interviews, your work is done too?”

“Almost. I’ll wrap up over the weekend, compiling data and doing the presentation.”

“Good work.”

“You too.”

I hoped we could both finally get some proper sleep. Me, without dreams, and you, relaxed now that your work was over. Hyun hooked his index finger around his tie knot and gave it a tug, then filled his glass again and downed it in one gulp. Watching his habit of lightly licking his lower lip, I started rambling again. The slight buzz from the alcohol made it easier to talk.

“You’ve gotten better at drinking.”

“Company dinners.”

“You used to hate it when I drank, but now you drink too.”

“You’ve been drinking like you’re at a company dinner since you were that age.”

“Hey, people usually drink more than at company dinners at that age.”

“You were the worst of them all.”

Hyun, who declared this so definitively, suddenly bit his lower lip and fell silent, then abruptly changed his words.

“Never mind.”

“Never mind?”

“That was your company dinner. It was your work.”

“You used to criticize me so much for doing that kind of work.”

“Back then…!”

I just stared at him intently, waiting for him to continue his raised voice. Let’s see what he says. He met my gaze, his eyelid twitching intensely for a moment, then lowered his voice significantly.

“No. You started working first. I just didn’t recognize it back then.”

At his unexpected words, I put down my glass, scratched near my lips, and thought, is this a new way to pick a fight? It was interesting, but more annoying than his usual assertive tone.

“So, you didn’t know.”

I replied on purpose. Hyun silently nodded. What was this?

Our relationship didn’t end abruptly. Mostly because of my unreasonable behavior. Looking back now, the brilliant Hyun had prepared himself and initiated the breakup, so he was probably fine. But I was about to be dragged off to the military with no further deferments and was just dumped, so I was out of my mind. So what? Back then, my unreasonable behavior felt justified.

And Hyun, after dumping me with those awful words, would somehow know when I called him randomly or collapsed in a bar, rambling, and would come pick me up.

I don’t remember exactly where it was that day. Some stairway. Was it the stairway near the back gate of the school? I was sitting on the wooden steps, leaning my cheek against the railing, and looking down.

That dawn, as even the lights in the residential area were gradually going out. The air felt heavy that day, and raindrops started to fall on my head. It was quite a heavy downpour. Along with the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs, I saw a head pop up. Hyun, backlit by the streetlight, threw his jacket over my head and snapped irritably,

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Why?’

‘It’s raining.’

I struggled to push off the jacket covering my head, then gave up from exhaustion. He roughly pulled my flailing arm and lifted me up, half-carrying me on his shoulder. He whispered clearly in my ear as I kept slumping and trying to sit back down,

‘Walk on your own two feet before I push you.’

‘Just push me then.’

‘Hey.’

‘Why? You were good at breaking up, but you can’t push me?’

I was so glad he didn’t push me then. Those stairs were quite long, and if he had pushed me, I might have gotten a legitimate military exemption.

I clearly remember coming down the stairs and Hyun running his hand through my bangs with utter annoyance. Still, he didn’t abandon me on the street or dump me at the police station as an unidentified drunk. He dragged me all the way to my place and left me there. Some days he was wearing sweatpants with an annoyed expression, other days he was dressed up, as if he’d been at some gathering.

Several times. Until I moved out and was finally dragged off to the military that winter.