World Chapter 1.3

Even to me, who was a layman in art, Sungjoon’s paintings were outstanding enough to evoke a clear impression. And one thing I came to know with certainty was the fact that Hyungjo was so taciturn I worried his mouth might eventually rot away.

It was past the middle of March. Time had somehow managed to crawl by. Compared to the time when I studied leisurely with Youngwoo while my mother was our teacher, everything was different now. It was a succession of days that were impossible to endure without becoming physically and mentally exhausted.

I suffered not only the hardship of wandering around the school all day long but also the pain of not being able to keep up with my classes. All my previous memories of genuinely enjoying studying felt like a lie. Studying exhausted me. When I saw my peers easily completing assignments as if they had received some kind of prior learning, I even felt a sense of self-loathing, wondering if something was wrong with my head. Far from hanging out during breaks between classes, I was called to fewer and fewer drinking parties, and a distance had formed between me and my classmates.

That wasn’t all. As if to show off the hardship of living alone in a strange place, my weight was dropping noticeably even though I was eating well. It was because my daily life was so busy that I had no energy left to take care of my body.

Sometimes when I looked in the mirror, I would be so startled by my own appearance that I would even find myself staring at the gaunt face in the mirror as if it were a stranger. Driven by a survival instinct to somehow make it through, I started supplementing my energy by snacking, which I normally didn’t enjoy, as if it were my main diet.

Today was another one of those hectic days.

My body was so exhausted that I practically dragged myself back to the boarding house. Even before I opened the front door, the faint sound of music leaked out.

It seemed the antique record player in the living room wasn’t just for display but was actually functional. As I opened the door and entered the living room, the beautiful aria that grew even louder made me flinch and stop in my tracks.

Hyungjo was standing in front of the record player.

The aria that resounded as if vibrating and the back of the man standing silently before it—I held my breath at the strange harmony and power of the scene. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

When the aria ended, Hyungjo finally moved. He took a big breath in and out, his chest swelling and then gently subsiding. It was as if the woman’s tone, or her soul, was passing through Hyungjo’s body with his breath.

“……”

Hyungjo took out the record, looked at it with a solemn and precious gaze, and then spotted me standing at the entrance.

I slowly approached him.

“It’s beautiful. Whose song is it?”

“Maria Callas. The romance of men.”

“…Maria Callas. Ah, the immortal diva?”

“Immortal, well, she’s dead, so. Ironic, that she became immortal through death.”

“……”

Hyungjo, who usually acted as if he didn’t see me, replied as if reciting poetry, intoxicated by the music. Like the hyungs, Hyungjo also tended to make such philosophical and poetic remarks often.

Somehow, they seemed more serious than others my age, and they had an atmosphere that made them difficult to approach. It was a sense of alienation that seemed to push me away.

I wanted to become friends with the hyungs, and of course with Hyungjo, crossing the line of being strangers.

When school was hard, I wanted to be comforted with words like, ‘It’s okay, you’re doing well,’ and I wanted to relieve stress by bad-mouthing classmates or professors I didn’t like.

The sense of solidarity I wanted from them was that kind of triviality. But they had not a hair’s breadth of interest in connecting with me. Sitting in the midst of them as they engaged in heated debates, veins popping on their necks, and listening quietly was the only sign of intimacy I could show them, and their occasionally turning to me to ask for my agreement was the limit of the bond they showed.

Though they were of a similar age, I was adrift among them due to an indescribable sense of separation.

Hyungjo blinked his eyes and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

With an expression as if waking from a dream, he put the record back on.

“What song is it?”

“……”

“What was the song I just heard?”

“……”

Hyungjo didn’t answer. His attitude of ignoring me, as if he didn’t even want to bother replying, got on my nerves today.

I suddenly hated him.

There was bound to be a distance with the hyungs because they were my seniors, but Hyungjo was my age. We could become close in no time if we just tried to get closer.

To my peers, who were seasoned by competition, my naivety was synonymous with dullness. I knew that my classmates were laughing behind my back about my origins and hometown, things I had never felt ashamed of until now.

Unspoken contempt always led to indifference, and even though a considerable amount of time had passed, not a single classmate would speak to me personally unless it was for a group project.

Being treated like transparent air by others, no matter how much I tried to pretend I was okay, broke me down every time I became conscious of it. And Hyungjo, just like my other classmates, was treating me like transparent air.

Hyungjo wasn’t the only one who ignored me, but being ignored by Hyungjo alone made me feel more miserable than being ignored by a hundred people. Anger, resentment, and sorrow surged up.

I snatched the record that Hyungjo was about to put back on the record player. Hyungjo turned to me with a cold glare.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Why don’t you answer when someone asks you a question?”

“Give it back.”

“Stop ignoring me all the time. You think you’re the only one with feelings? I feel bad when I’m ignored too!”

“Country mouse, stop talking nonsense and give it back.”

“Stop calling me a mouse, a mouse!”

“You don’t know anything about the world, so are you a person or a mouse?”

“What did you say?!”

I don’t know why I did it.

I was someone who extremely disliked causing harm to others. This was truly a first. As he turned to me with a look of contempt, an uncontrollable surge of anger rose up in me.

I threw the record onto the floor. The round disc shattered into pieces. After throwing the record, only after it broke, I staggered, shocked at my own actions.

“……”

“……”

Hyungjo, who had been quietly staring at the broken record, turned around without a word. I stared blankly at the second-floor staircase where he had disappeared.

My mind was blank.

I would have preferred it if he had yelled at me loudly…

For him to just leave like that without a word hurt even more. I had planned to use it as an excuse to explode with the complaints I had harbored against him if he got angry, I wanted to tell him my true feelings while fighting, even if it came to throwing punches, but my awkward plan, undertaken with that intention, came to nothing because of his taciturn nature.

A wave of sorrow washed over me. My struggles to adapt somehow in a strange new place seemed pathetic and foolish. I felt a sense of disgust towards myself for acting so rudely to Hyungjo.

My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the sofa.

Nothing was going right.

This wasn’t what I had hoped for when I came to college.

I hadn’t come to this wide world to become a little mouse that no one paid any attention to.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. If I had known it would be like this, I shouldn’t have left home. I should have gone to the nearby national university that was at least close to home.

What grand dream was I trying to achieve, how great and distinguished a person was I trying to become, that I came up to Seoul with such high spirits? In the end, I was just a country bumpkin that no one acknowledged or even looked at.

Plop, plop, I gathered the pieces of the broken record as tears fell. Wiping away the sorrowful tears with the back of my hand, I went outside with my swollen eyes.

With the broken record.

The large record stores no longer carried old LPs. I finally managed to find a store that handled LPs. I held out the broken record and asked for the same one. The clerk had a troubled expression.

The owner, who was an LP collector, came out, saw the broken disc, and asked.

“Isn’t this Maria Callas?”

“…Yes.”

The owner looked at the serial number on the LP and said, as if dazed.

“My goodness, isn’t this the live recording of the first performance of the 1955 season at La Scala? You can’t get this. It’s a limited edition and it’s old, so it would cost several hundred to find one. It might be on eBay, though.”

“What do you mean, several hundred?”

“Several million won.”

“What?!”

“To think you broke something like this…”

He looked at me with an expression that said it was a terrible waste, and on the other hand, that I was pathetic. At the words ‘several hundred,’ I wiped away the tears that were leaking out again and picked up the broken pieces.

“If I glue this, can it be played again?”

“Of course not.”

“Still…”

“If you can glue it and make it play, I’ll buy you one myself.”

“……”

I returned to the boarding house with the LP.

It was late at night, so the hyungs were also back home. As I entered with a gloomy face, on the verge of sobbing, Taewan burst out laughing at the sight of me.

Why is someone else’s misfortune so funny?

I glared at him with my eyes narrowed. Sungjoon was coming down from the second floor, saw me, and ran over in surprise.

“Hyunwoo, what’s wrong? Did you cry?”

“…It’s nothing.”

“Why, what happened?”

“No. Nothing…, nothing happened.”

When Sungjoon asked what had happened, showing his concern and affection, it felt like the tears I had been holding back were about to burst out. I blinked my eyes, feeling a lump in my throat.

“It doesn’t look like nothing happened.”

“Nothing…”

He patted my shoulder as I choked up, unable to finish my words. Taewan looked at me and Sungjoon and chuckled. I looked at him resentfully. Sungjoon saw the LP I was holding and asked.

“What’s this? Is it because of the record?”

“It’s Hyungjo’s, and I broke it.”

“Why?”

“Hyungjo kept ignoring me, so I got so angry. I shouldn’t have, but I… I got so angry and threw it.”

Even as I explained it with my own mouth, I could tell I was spouting nonsense. It was an excuse that no one would be able to sympathize with.

“That’s just how he is. A cynical pessimist. Probably a sadist.”

Taewan muttered at my words.

“They said this is expensive. They said you can’t get it.”

“What is it?”

“Maria Callas…, they said it was some live album.”

“Ah, are you talking about the one Seok gave Hyungjo for his birthday last time?”

I felt even more dejected at the words that it was Hyungjo’s birthday present.

To think I broke someone’s birthday present…

It wasn’t just because of that guilt. The image of Hyungjo listening to the music wouldn’t leave my mind, which made it even more agonizing.

Hyungjo, standing there with a distant face, as if yearning for the soul of that voice. The way he caressed the LP with a careful and deliberate touch—it must have been something he cherished very much.

Practical tears welled up again. It was embarrassing enough to be receiving tuition, allowance, and rent from my parents, but where on earth was I supposed to get several million won?

As I was reminded of the fact that I couldn’t ask my parents, who were in tight circumstances, for money, sorrowful tears finally streamed down my cheeks.

What should I do? How can I pay him back?

“Did you cry earlier too?”

“The tears just keep coming, sob…”

“So this is why that Hyungjo fellow was so restless.”

Taewan said, poking my forehead. When he poked my forehead, another tear fell.

“You’ll be able to get it. I’ll talk to Seok.”

Sungjoon said in a tone that told me not to worry.

“Really?”

“Because that guy is rich.”

Taewan lit a cigarette, making an out-of-place comment that the rich deserved to be despised. Sungjoon comforted crying me with a gentle touch.

“Where’s Hyungjo?”

“He’s holed up in his room. Restlessly. It’s because that guy is so quiet. He can’t even say a simple ‘it’s okay,’ so a fellow with no tact makes everyone suffer wherever he goes.”

As I sat on the sofa, receiving comfort from Sungjoon and Taewan that it would be okay, Seok returned.

He was extremely stiff and tense. His usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be found. At his appearance, Sungjoon also tensed up.

Taewan, who was smoking by the open window, asked Seok.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“They said the chairman of the Sammin Struggle Committee was arrested.”

“……”

At Seok’s grim tone, the three of them fell silent at once. A heavy silence flowed for a long time.

Unable to understand what they were talking about, I sat there bewildered. They exchanged glances and then hurriedly went outside.

“We won’t be back today. Don’t wait up.”

Sungjoon’s words, spoken as he hurriedly put on his coat and turned to look back before leaving, were the only explanation he gave me.

“Then what about the record…”

I sat foolishly on the sofa and muttered to myself.

This was no time to be sitting around in a daze. I quickly got up and pieced together the shattered LP with super glue. Fortunately, the pieces had broken into large chunks, so after gluing it this way and that, the LP looked whole from a distance.

Foolishly, I put the LP on the old phonograph and spun it. It would have been a strange thing if it had worked. It was not something an engineering student should do. It was already old, and I felt like I might break the phonograph as well, so I quickly took the LP off.

“I think I’ve really lost my mind. Will this work, will it? Haa…”

I let out a sigh, feeling so pathetic I could go crazy.

As if being dragged, I went up the stairs. I stood in front of Hyungjo’s firmly closed door. After hesitating several times, I finally opened my mouth.

“…Kim Hyungjo, are you in there?”

“……”

“I’m really sorry. I heard it was a birthday present from Seok-hyung.”

“……”

There was no response from inside the room. I pushed the LP, which was glued together like a rag, through the crack under the door.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll definitely, definitely get you a new one when I get a part-time job later. It might take a while. But still…, I’ll definitely pay you back.”

I muttered to the unresponsive him in a dispirited tone and went into my room.

It was a tiring day.

“Haa.”

I was still struggling at school because I hadn’t adapted yet, and on top of that, I had fought with Hyungjo at home. My relationship with him had widened when it should have been getting better. I clicked my tongue at how pathetic I was.

I desperately missed Youngwoo. I wanted to see Youngwoo. My longing for Youngwoo was due to the yearning and nostalgia that bloomed from deep within my heart to return home. Seoul was too complicated a place. It exhausted people.

This was a point my father had worried about even before I came up to Seoul. He had said that it wouldn’t be easy for me, who had grown up among simple people who didn’t know what competition was, to adapt to a life where being selfish was smart and being individualistic was natural.

He had said, with a face full of concern, that I would feel alienated, and that I would struggle even more because of that alienation.

“……”

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed as if falling. A sense of powerlessness and defeat seemed to press down on my back.

My classmates ignored me because my background was different from theirs, having come from the provinces, and from a place so remote it could be called the complete countryside. It wasn’t a problem that I didn’t know much. We were just too different emotionally.

Tears can fall even from sorrow. Tears are falling because of sorrow…

It would have been better if I hadn’t come here. I shouldn’t have come here.

I wanted to go back home. All I wanted was to quit everything, throw it all away, and go home. Soaked in nostalgia, I sobbed and then fell asleep.

Was it because of my wet cheeks? Or was it because of the wet pillowcase?

Flinch, a shiver ran through me and my eyes opened. A thick darkness was cast in the room. My shoulders and back were cold, and my hands were cold too. It wasn’t the season to feel this kind of chill, but I was cold.

I rubbed my palms together to add a little warmth to my cold hands. The lights didn’t turn on even when I flicked the switch up and down.

A power outage?

Power outages were common in my hometown. The power went out frequently, especially in the snowy winters. Since we always lived with things like flashlights and candles close by, a power outage wasn’t a very perplexing problem for me.

Fumbling, I felt my way along the wall and went outside. Moonlight streamed in through the hallway window. Seeing the cold moonlight, I had the illusion of looking at the foggy yard of my country house.

When I would come out to the wooden porch and sit there blankly, my father would pat my shoulder. As if there was something stuck there.

When I would look back at my father and ask, “Why are you doing that?” he would smile quietly and say.

“It’s okay now. Don’t look at it for too long. Moonlight has an energy that bewitches people.”

Relying on the faintly streaming moonlight, I went downstairs. The hyungs hadn’t returned yet, it seemed. The large house was submerged in a silence that was almost desolate.

I went into the kitchen, poured a cup of water from the kettle, and drank it down. After some sleep, the exhausted and tired feeling had loosened a bit, and I felt much more refreshed.

Yes, I have to be strong and not cry.

If I get exhausted and struggle over something like this, how am I going to live from now on?

Life is a war. Life is a struggle. Didn’t you hear what the hyungs said?

If you succumb to the tide of the times, you’ll end up having your freedom and rights taken away.

Get a grip, Jung Hyunwoo. It’s for real from now on. You really have to be strong.

I can’t disappoint my parents who strained themselves in their difficult circumstances to send their child to Seoul to study.

I was chiding myself and turning around when I froze.

“……”

Hyungjo was standing at the kitchen entrance. It would have been natural to be startled by his ghost-like appearance, but I wasn’t very surprised to see him.

Was it because of the bewitching moonlight?

The soft moonlight was spreading gently from Hyungjo’s head to his shoulders. The hazy light reflected off his body, making Hyungjo’s appearance deep and mysterious, as if a light was emanating along his silhouette.

Hyungjo slowly approached me. I tensed up for no reason and put all my strength into my toes.

I should apologize.

I’ll only be able to pay him back when my situation allows, but what if he demands it right now…

While I was worrying about this, Hyungjo picked up the cup I had been drinking from and had set down, and drank the remaining water. The moisture made his lips glisten with a dark color.

I stood there blankly, watching him. Hyungjo rested one arm on the kitchen table, set the cup down on the opposite side, and then propped himself up with his other hand as well. I looked up at him, trapped within his arms.

“Get out of here.”

His words were sudden.

I was planning to apologize to Hyungjo. I was going to promise him that I would get him the same one, even if it meant getting a part-time job. To me, who was trying my best to somehow lessen the burden of my apologetic feelings, Hyungjo was bitingly cold and heartless.

Putting aside the pointless feeling of rebellion that arose, I was first and foremost sad. His attitude of not knowing my heart that wanted to befriend him at all, only saying hateful words and relentlessly trying to hurt me, was very upsetting and sorrowful.

I bit my lower lip slightly and glared at him. I spoke to his straight gaze that pierced me without backing down. My voice trembled slightly.

“Why? Why should I leave? I was planning to pay you back for the LP as soon as my situation allows. I wasn’t trying to wipe my mouth with an apology and pretend I didn’t know.”

“It has nothing to do with that. Leave.”

“……”

“Right now. Get out of here right now.”

“…Do you hate me that much?”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re different from us. We can’t live together.”

Hyungjo’s tone and expression were overly serious.

He wasn’t saying it because he disliked or hated me, but because he was stating a fact as it was, which made me feel even more shabby. My feelings or emotions while hearing these words were of no concern to this fellow. He wasn’t considering me, who was already struggling, in the slightest.

“What are you talking about? What’s different, for god’s sake? I studied really hard. I don’t know how great you are, but I’m a student at this school too. If we’re different, what’s so different?! Who the hell are you to tell me to leave or not?”

“Don’t say anything, don’t question anything, just leave. Right now.”

“……”