Chapter 2
Can Love Be Transferred Too?
Five from the alpha group, five from the omega group.
A total of ten men staying in a townhouse for a month, getting to know each other, going on dates, and developing romantic relationships with those they connect with—it’s a live-in dating program.
The problem is…
“To appear on the show, you absolutely need that person’s X.”
“X?”
“Your ex-lover.”
So basically, they’re shoving five couples who once dated and broke up into one house, and making those people choose between their old love and new love.
“They’ve lost their minds,” I muttered while clutching my head. “What? ‘Can Love Be Transferred Too?’ What kind of crazy bullshit is this?”
Who the hell planned this kind of program? Who exactly!
“Since it’s on DBS, the ratings are pretty much guaranteed. I really want to go on it, but you’re the only X I have.”
“Hey, Chan…”
“The appearance fee is decent too. A hundred per episode. Fashion sponsorships are coming in too.”
“Money isn’t what’s important right now.”
“If money isn’t important to Yoo Sanho, then what is?”
What’s important to me besides money? How can you ask me something like that? Those words rose to my throat and disappeared with a bitter sensation.
“You’ll do it, right?”
Not “please do it.” Not “think about it.” You’ll do it, right?
A question where the answer was already known. Words that were practically confirmation, where the question mark was literally just added for politeness.
Lee Chan is always like this. Always confident, and when it comes to me, there’s nothing he doesn’t know. He demands without hesitation and never doubts or worries.
Because Yoo Sanho is always someone who stays within Lee Chan’s expectations. Easy Yoo Sanho who gets pushed when pushed, follows when pulled. Simple and easy Yoo Sanho.
The call ended ridiculously simply. Someone called his name from the other end of the phone. “Chan-ah, the delivery’s here.” It was the voice of a boyish man. A stranger’s voice at that.
What kind of relationship might that be? My chest felt tightly constricted. Before I could say anything, the phone flashed briefly. The light indicating the call had ended stabbed painfully into my retina.
This time too, Lee Chan’s prediction was right. I would end up appearing on that damn program, “Can Love Be Transferred Too?” For the sole reason that Lee Chan wanted it.
How is this an opportunity? The block has finally been lifted. Whatever the case, if we’re appearing on the same program, I could use that as an excuse to see his face.
My heart started beating like crazy. It seemed I was excited. Just like the day I first confessed to Lee Chan. Like the day that bastard rejected me. Like the day I first realized I’d been blocked…
Wait. Isn’t this excitement?
I thought quietly with my hand placed on my noisy chest.
“Still, well.”
It was a program appearance offer that came like a bolt from the blue. My constitution that finds even photo shoots awkward, let alone filming, is a little—no, actually quite worrying… but I have to overcome it with fighting spirit.
How long had I been sitting there in a jumbled mess of emotions like shock, joy, anxiety, excitement, and bewilderment?
Bzzzz. The phone rang long. At the two characters “Lee Chan” floating alone in the center, I hurriedly checked the screen.
talk
Oh but don’t misunderstand, I’m saying this in advance
I have no intention of getting back together with you X
I thought you might be expecting something~
You’re not, right Sanho? hehe
Something seemed to make a thudding sound as it fell in my chest.
You not liking me as much was okay. So even when we were dating, I could endure you constantly looking elsewhere and making excuses that you couldn’t help it. I endured it believing that you would eventually come back and settle by my side.
But you saying everything is over without even giving me a chance is not okay.
You drawing a line saying you won’t like me is still unfamiliar.
But still… But still.
talk
You confident you won’t act pathetically? lol
Of course ㅡㅡㅗ
Then let’s go on the show
Pretending I’ve forgotten everything. Pretending I’m fine. Pretending to be cool. Even if I have to mobilize all my shabby acting skills that reveal all my cards.
Even like that, I wanted to see your face.
“Wow. If Gam hears this story, he’ll breathe fire from his mouth.”
I, who had been making a subtle expression, ended up chuckling.
Is this an opportunity?
Our relationship where the dominant and submissive roles were so clear. You who always put a leash on me and confidently, and as you pleased, led me around, and me who willingly let myself be dragged along.
An opportunity to try holding onto you one last time, or to cleanly sort you out once and for all this time.
I searched around for dating programs I’d never been interested in my entire life. “I’m Solo Too,” “Couple Heaven,” “Love Signal,” “Lovely Package”…
The more I searched, the colder my heart became.
“Are ghosts of people who died from not being able to date attached?”
What conversations are complete strangers supposed to have sitting face to face, and what kind of attraction are they supposed to feel? Am I supposed to consider and evaluate how suitable this person would be as my lover? It just felt like a bizarre matchmaking experience site.
So it’s a program with an atmosphere similar to these programs, but with each other’s ex-lovers hidden and even having exploration battles.
“Lee Chan…” You’re my ex-lover, but you’re really a fucking bastard…
I, who had been lying sideways busily moving my thumb, suddenly fell asleep at some point.
***
“Fucking shibal!”
Bang!
The moment my fist hit the table, the utensils on the table flew up. I quickly reached out and put them back in their places.
Blood vessels bulged on Gam Seonghan’s forehead and chin, and his face turned red and blue.
“You bastard, you… Yoo Sanho, you crazy little shit, this, this thing, damn it right now…”
“Um, sorry. Ajumma, could you give us one more glass of water? A cold one.”
“I brought you out for hangover soup since you had fish eyes from the morning, and what’s this about? Huh? What are you doing? ‘Can Love Also Transfer?’ Transfer? What nonsense?”
“…Please give us a bottle of soju too, the red one!”
“Yoo Sanho!”
“Hey. Don’t be rude in a public place. Can’t you be quiet?”
“Manners, fuck, now you’re telling me I have no manners!”
I quickly opened the soju and filled the small glass to the brim. With both hands politely.
“He’s fallen for transfers. Really spouting all kinds of bullshit in front of the TV. The bastard who contacts saying he’ll go on it, and the one who readily accepts because the block was lifted… Oh my, Lord.”
He downed the soju in one gulp and muttered.
“The Lord’s lambs have all gone crazy together. What do we do about this?”
“Hey, don’t go around saying you’re Catholic.”
“Why. What. Why.”
He dipped a large green chili in ssamjang and chewed and swallowed half of it in one bite.
“Ah, I really can’t deal with this. What’s wrong with that bastard Lee Chan that he’s gone so crooked? Knowing full well you’d be like this, stubbornly asking to go on the program… What the hell. Wow, what kind of bullshit is this really?”
“…”
“He probably hasn’t even broken up with that Hasegawa or Hashibal-wa or whatever, and they were doing shopping mall business together or something. Shibal, why the hell is he going on a dating program when he has a model lover?”
I pretended not to know and ate my hangover soup. It felt thick rather than hot.
“They must have broken up.”
“Would you break up overnight if you were him? People who are doing business together?”
“It could happen.”
I put down my spoon weakly. Even the will to try to take a few more spoonfuls disappeared.
“I broke up overnight.”
“…”
“We who talked about seeing each other for life, dated for 10 years, and even looked for a house to live together could break up, so why couldn’t they?”
It was quite a stubborn statement. Since I did, others could too. It wasn’t just Yoo Sanho who was worthless; Yoo Sanho was just worthless too.
Really, what meaning does all this have? Whether he dated someone, broke up with them—that doesn’t mean he’ll look back at me.
“Anyway, hey. Yoo Sanho. I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“Feeling? You’re Gam.”
“Bullshit. Listen seriously.”
“Yes.”
“That bastard Lee Chan has been acting up lately saying he’s an influencer or whatever. Don’t keep accommodating his every whim. If you haven’t talked to the production team yet…”
I answered with an awkward smile.
“I already talked to the production team, first thing when I woke up this morning.”
“…”
“Just once. I’ll try to hold on one last time and shake off my lingering feelings.”
I said in an excuse-like tone after thinking for a moment.
“You know it doesn’t suit my personality to not try when there’s something I can do.”
“Yoo Sanho.”
“I know. I’m not asking you to take my side. Pathetic, unattractive, tiresome… I know all that. But, Seonghan-ah.”
“…”
“I need an opportunity to sort things out too. It’s okay if he uses me. Rather, wouldn’t it be better if my feelings cool off because of that?”
“Why is it so hard to let go of your feelings?”
“I liked him for 10 years.”
I spent most of my life getting to know that kid, and half of it liking him. If it would cleanly disappear just because a couple seasons changed, wouldn’t that be absurd?
I smiled while pouring alcohol into Gam Seonghan’s glass.
“I’ll sort it out so I won’t be a burden to you. This time it’s for real.”
“What burden…”
He grumbled and started devouring his hangover soup. Steam was still rising from the pot, but he scooped it up relentlessly. I briefly wondered if he couldn’t feel the hot food because a thousand fires were boiling inside him.
“But Gam, do you know much about Chan’s new lover? The shopping mall business, modeling, and all that.”
What was the name again? Ha… what was it? It was definitely a Japanese-sounding name.
“I thought you wouldn’t be curious about that stuff at all.”
“Yeah. I’m not curious. It’s none of my business. Whether he dates a Japanese person or an alien.”
“But why…”
“Because I thought you might be curious.”
“…”
“I wanted to find out before it reached Yoo Sanho’s ears. That way I can hide it, or tell you, or threaten that bastard, or not…”
“…”
“Don’t stare with those moist eyes and eat your rice. You’re so skinny, what is that? Eat heartily.”
I quickly picked up my spoon. And I chewed and swallowed everything in the pot vigorously without leaving a single spoonful.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
