Place to Be Chapter 5

It was the same for Jang Wigeon’s friends; they ended up in the same class as well. Perhaps even they hadn’t expected the three of them to be placed together, because on the first day of their second year, as soon as they ran into each other in the classroom, Jang Wigeon burst into laughter and grumbled a joke-filled complaint, asking if they “really had to face each other even during class hours.”

By that time, it was already well-known throughout the school how close they were—to the point where anyone would think of the three of them as a single unit. However, that didn’t mean their social circle was closed off. While the other two were not naturally soft-spoken or sociable and maintained a moderate distance from others as one would with typical classmates, Jang Wigeon got along with everyone.

Even without stepping forward or doing anything in particular, people naturally gathered near him. The atmosphere of a place changed depending on whether he was there or not.

With a sophisticated sense of humor, a playful but not frivolous nature, and the ability to make the surroundings bright and pleasant just by adding a word or two—who could possibly dislike such a person?

“There are people who dislike him, you know.”

Seo Chiyoung turned his gaze toward a friend who had finished his lunch box early during the morning break and was now munching on bread he’d bought from the snack bar during the actual lunchtime. Although they weren’t as prominent as those guys, Seo Chiyoung had friends he spent a smooth and ordinary school life with. Kim Kyungchul, whom he would keep in touch with long after graduation, was one of them.

“Why? He might pull some crazy pranks sometimes, but he doesn’t have the kind of personality that gets hated.”

From the side, Park Hoyeon, who had spoken admiringly of Jang Wigeon, saying a guy like that would do well anywhere, spoke while sucking on a carton of milk.

Even among classmates who weren’t part of the group that frequently gathered around him—even those who had a distant relationship and had barely spoken to him—no one disliked Jang Wigeon. Or so Seo Chiyoung thought. Even among his own friends, who were similarly unremarkable and ordinary, the reputation of Jang Wigeon wasn’t bad.

“There’s Han Seungyeol, and there are a few others who see him as a thorn in their side.”

“Why?”

“Is there ever a special reason for that? They just don’t like him for no reason. You know how it is. He’s popular, his family is well-off, and he doesn’t really have any flaws, so he just looks hateful for the sake of it.”

As he said this, Kim Kyungchul also shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t quite get it either. Seo Chiyoung nodded vaguely.

While Seo Chiyoung couldn’t even imagine the reason, there were indeed people who weren’t fond of him. Even without a specific reason or cause, there are always people who simply dislike anything—whether it’s a person, an object, or an event—that becomes the center of attention.

“But is Jang Wigeon’s family that well-off? Wasn’t it just average? What did they say his father does… a Chinese restaurant? No, wait, was it a dumpling shop?”

Park Hoyeon smacked his lips, as if just thinking about it made his mouth water.

The story that Jang Wigeon’s family ran a food business had circulated widely a while ago. And the source of that rumor was Jang Wigeon himself.

Not long ago, while Jang Wigeon was talking with some classmates, he was telling a story about a cousin who had lived a lazy, sluggish life at home every day until he got on his maternal uncle’s bad side and was dragged off to the army overnight. During the story, the fact that the uncle had previously served as the Minister of Government Administration and Home Affairs1) came up. It wasn’t something he said himself. It came out when a friend listening to the story—a childhood friend who was particularly close to Jang Wigeon—blurted out, ‘I thought your uncle would use his influence to get him out, so that’s unexpected.’

At that moment, Han Seungyeol, who wasn’t intentionally part of their circle but was close enough to hear and had been watching them with a look of disapproval, spoke up mockingly.

‘So what if your uncle is a former minister? Is your father a member of the National Assembly or something?’

At those words, which were laced with an unkind snort, Jang Wigeon looked at Han Seungyeol. Even though he must have clearly sensed the thorn in those words, he didn’t seem upset at all; he just laughed casually and replied, “No.”

‘My house has nothing to do with that sort of thing. My father steams and sells dumplings at the market. They’re good. Come by sometime and buy some.’

‘Dumplings?!’

Han Seungyeol asked back, his face contorting strangely. That look of complete disbelief was mirrored on the faces of the other classmates. The atmosphere, which had turned momentarily chilly due to Han Seungyeol’s mockery, was broken after a brief silence when one of the classmates said something slightly off-target: ‘Then you must get to eat dumplings all you want. Must be nice.’

Hey, would it even taste good if you ate it every day? My house is a side-dish shop, and even then, if you rotate through several kinds of side dishes every day, you get sick of it, voices laughing and chatting mixed together. Amidst them, Jang Wigeon said with a smirk, “Yeah, I’m totally sick of them.”

‘A few years ago, before we opened the shop, they were “reviewing the taste” or whatever, so as soon as school was over, I’d be summoned and forced to eat dumplings until my stomach burst. It was torture. Even now, I can’t stand dumplings.’

Han Seungyeol, who had been staring blankly at Jang Wigeon as he rubbed his stomach area saying just the thought made him feel queasy, soon turned away with a grimace as if it were absurd. And not long after that, the story that Jang Wigeon’s family ran some kind of shop began to circulate. Though those stories eventually died down as well.

“Back then, Han Seungyeol probably went around busily telling everyone that Jang Wigeon’s family runs a Chinese restaurant.”

Kim Kyungchul muttered as he snatched Park Hoyeon’s milk and drank it. He even turned his back on Park Hoyeon, who was glaring and shouting, “Give it here!”

“What does it matter what anyone’s family does?”

Seo Chiyoung, who had been silent until then, suddenly muttered. Beside Park Hoyeon, who was protesting that he’d gotten the milk carton back but only one sip remained, Kim Kyungchul shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows, I guess if you don’t like someone, you want to use anything as a subject for gossip. But all that talk has died down now anyway.”

Just as Kim Kyungchul said, that story was soon buried by the following news that the “dumpling shop” was actually a high-end chain directly imported from overseas. To be precise, the story was that one of the businesses Jang Wigeon’s father had personally developed over the past few years—as someone who ran a food import company and owned several food chains—was a luxury Chinese restaurant.

To Seo Chiyoung, who was nothing more than a typical high school student for whom a single piece of bread from the snack bar took up a large portion of his daily allowance, such rumors didn’t really sink in, but he could realize one thing. It was the fact that this was a story from a world as distant as things like “ministers” and such.

It would have been better if it were just a common dumpling shop or Chinese restaurant one sees at the market. Even if that were the case, as long as Jang Wigeon was Jang Wigeon, nothing would be different from now, but at least he could have thought to himself that the vast distance had decreased by a few steps.

Seo Chiyoung poured ginger tea from a thermos and drank it silently. His mother had sent it with him because he’d had symptoms of a cold since the day before yesterday. Park Hoyeon, who had quickly snatched it away asking what he was drinking alone, made a face and returned the cup as soon as he smelled the ginger. Then, saying “By the way,” he turned back to Kim Kyungchul.

“Is there really a reason to dislike him that much? Seungyeol doesn’t just hate everyone at random, does he?”

“Who knows. Maybe a girl Han Seungyeol liked fell for Jang Wigeon or something.”

“Ah… hearing that makes it a bit more understandable.”

Park Hoyeon nodded his head. He seemed to be recalling the countless rumors that had been constantly updated—credible stories such as who he was supposedly dating from which girls’ high school, that it was someone else this time, that he had gone out with some model last night at a club, or that someone from the neighboring school had confessed to Jang Wigeon.

Seo Chiyoung also knew that such circulating words weren’t mere rumors. Although he had never been to the kind of clubs Jang Wigeon supposedly frequented, considering the women who habitually waited in front of the school gate after school or the letters that filled his desk drawer every day, he guessed that the rumors were more likely downplayed than exaggerated.

“Yeah, he certainly deserves to be hated by guys, but seeing as only one or two guys like Han Seungyeol are like that, Wigeon must have a really good personality. Because he doesn’t act in a hateful way. …Seungyeol should just settle it with a fight and get over it. Hating someone is so exhausting.”