[Huh, what?]
“Ah, if you’re busy, we can talk later.”
[Okay.]
Jun didn’t even ask again and coldly hung up.
“Guess he’s busy.”
Well, I could ask later tonight or tomorrow. It wasn’t something that had to be figured out today or tomorrow anyway, so even asking next Monday would be fine.
Then again, I started wondering if it was okay to call out someone this busy on a Saturday. I was slowly getting annoyed, not knowing which tune I was supposed to dance to.
“If you get me out of Impo, I’ll give you 30 million won.”
Suddenly, the terms of that contract with him came to mind.
‘Since things aren’t working out with me… did he find someone else?’
For all I knew, he might not be that kind of relationship with the guy I saw earlier. But once the contract terms resurfaced in my head, everything started to feel connected. Maybe that was why he’d been busy in so many ways…
“Ah… But even after taking medicine, why does my stomach still burn like this?”
Maybe it was the stress from the tenant, but my stomach hurt even worse than before.
Right then, my phone rang again. Why did all troublesome things always come flooding in at once? This time, it was the landlord. He was complaining that the tenant I’d brokered the contract for was acting like a total nuisance.
Even if I wanted to ignore it, I couldn’t. They’d signed the contract because of me. Still, this landlord had every right to complain.
[Good grief, really. I’ve never seen a tenant like this in my life. Calling my wife at dawn while we’re asleep, asking her to change a lightbulb, saying the showerhead’s broken and demanding we buy and install a new one. And now they’re raising hell about cleaning the washing machine drum. How am I supposed to live like this? Huh? Sir, does that make any sense to you?]
“The issues you’ve mentioned are definitely things the tenant should reasonably handle themselves. I’ll speak to them properly, so please don’t argue emotionally. Just tell them to call the real estate office.”
[I’ve told them that hundreds of times already. Told them to ask the real estate office. But they stubbornly keep calling my wife instead. These days, just hearing the phone ring makes me shudder.]
As I listened and gave appropriate responses, cold sweat broke out from the burning in my stomach. At first, the landlord vented endlessly about the tenant. Then he asked about the reconstruction project across the street. Later, he went on about how his child had just gotten married, bought a house somewhere, and how much its value had gone up—rambling about family matters—before finally hanging up.
“Ha…”
A sigh slipped out on its own. Earlier, my stomach had been burning; now it felt tight and suffocating. It felt like something inside was gripping my stomach and refusing to let go. In the end, I slumped over my desk and rested my head on it. Whenever I thought I felt a little better and straightened up, a sharp pain flared again in my upper abdomen.
“Should I take more medicine?”
I’d only taken one pill earlier, so maybe that was why. Thinking that might be the case, I walked over to the water dispenser to take another. With a glass of water in hand, I sat down on the sofa. After swallowing the pill and steadying my breathing, I felt a little calmer.
I hadn’t even realized when I’d started sweating like this—my forehead was damp. I wiped my face with a tissue and undid one button of my shirt. I’d buttoned it all the way up to look neat, but right now, being able to breathe mattered more.
It wasn’t even 1 p.m. yet. It felt a bit ridiculous to go home just two hours after coming into work…
So I sat on the sofa and closed my eyes. If a customer came in, maybe they’d wake me. But I didn’t have the strength left to worry about anyone else right now.
I was barely holding onto consciousness when…
“Du-seon!”
At the sensation of someone shaking my body, I opened my eyes. My blurry vision slowly focused, and the other person’s face became clear.
“…Bin?”
He usually looked like he’d stepped straight out of a magazine, but today he was dressed in a simple T-shirt and pants. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was messy. I blinked at him for a while, wondering if it was really him.
“Are you sick? Why are you like this? You can’t even hold yourself upright.”
“Yes… huh?”
“Does your chest hurt? Why do you keep hitting there?”
“Ah, my stomach’s just burning a bit.”
Bin wiped my forehead and asked why I was sweating so much, muttering that this wouldn’t do. He told me to stay put and went somewhere. It sounded like he was urgently calling for a car. Soon, a sedan pulled up in front of the office.
“It’ll be tough, but pull yourself together and get in.”
“Ah…”
He put me in the back seat and locked the office door. The car seat was even softer than the sofa at my place. My head kept tilting toward the window from lack of strength, so Bin gently guided it to rest against his shoulder. He exchanged a few words with the driver; I vaguely heard the name of a hospital.
Right. The hospital. I should’ve gone earlier. Instead of stubbornly trying to tough it out with medicine, I’d let it get this bad. If I’d gone to the hospital from the start and gotten examined, this wouldn’t have happened. Living alone in a strange city, trying to handle everything on my own like an idiot—this was the result.
The car seemed to speed up and slow down repeatedly, but the ride was so smooth that my body didn’t sway. As my mind grew hazier and hazier, someone lifted me upright—it seemed we’d arrived at the hospital.
Almost leaning entirely on Bin, I lay down on an emergency room bed. A doctor approached and asked about my symptoms and what medicine I’d taken. When I couldn’t answer properly, Bin showed him the medicine box I’d taken.
“Have you vomited or experienced any other symptoms?”
I could see the doctor explaining something to Bin, who was standing beside me as I clutched my upper abdomen. An IV was inserted into the back of my hand, and after a while, the pain in my body gradually subsided. The doctor said they’d observe me for now and left. A cool hand touched my forehead.
“You’ll feel better soon. Get some sleep.”
“Tha…nk… you…”
When I forced my eyes open, a smile rested on Bin’s lips. Even with the dark stubble around his mouth from not shaving, he somehow looked brighter than usual. In the end, I couldn’t overcome the wave of fatigue and closed my eyes. The whole world went black, like a power outage.
***
By the time we returned to the office, it was nearly evening. I’d actually recovered two hours earlier, but Bin insisted I get a nutrient IV as well, so I couldn’t refuse. The doctor said it was temporary indigestion, which eased my worries, but it seemed today’s stress had been the trigger.
Bin paid the hospital bill, so all I had to do was pick up the medicine on the way out. I told him I’d reimburse him for both the hospital fees and the medication, but he cleanly ignored me and instead scolded me, saying I should call him next time I was sick.
Originally, I’d planned to go straight home from the hospital, but since I’d left in such a rush, I needed to tidy up the office. I’d also left my phone on my desk. If any urgent calls had come in, they’d only be from clients, so at the very least I should send a message saying I’d respond properly on Monday.
Still, there might’ve been another tenant or landlord like earlier, calling to complain.
Even after I turned off the office lights and stepped out, Bin was still standing by the door.
“Get in. I’ll take you home.”
In the parking spot where Jun’s sports car was usually parked, the same sedan we’d taken to the emergency room was now sitting. Seeing the space empty, it seemed Jun hadn’t returned yet.
“You don’t have to. You even paid the hospital bill.”
“Du-seon. If you’re sick again, call me. You have my number, right?”
“Yes. Anyway, thank you.”
“Get in.”
I usually saved the phone numbers of clients I’d signed contracts with. But there was never any personal contact—just their names stored alongside their addresses.
The way he’d taken care of me like this made me feel a little guilty about having saved his number so impersonally. If things had been more serious and Bin hadn’t found me, something terrible might’ve happened.
Saying excuse me, I got into the back seat, and just like earlier, Bin followed. When he asked for my address, I told him the name of my apartment complex.
“It must be hard commuting. Move somewhere closer.”
“I need to save up some money for now…”
“Then want to share a place with me?”
“I’m not comfortable living with someone else.”
Bin quietly studied my profile. His gaze brightened and darkened under the passing streetlights. I couldn’t tell which expression was his real one.
“Du-seon, you’re like jelly.”
“Jelly?”
“I want to grab you, but it feels like you’d break if I did. If I poke you with a finger, it dents—but once I pull my hand away, it goes right back to how it was.”
“…So you’re just saying I’m weird?”
Bin replied, “Yeah, you’re unusual,” then told the driver to stop somewhere.
The place he had us stop at was a traditional Korean restaurant.
“I really don’t feel like eating right now.”
“I know. Just a moment.”
When Bin got out, the driver followed. The two of them went inside the restaurant with its high stone walls. Soft classical music played inside the car.
Since I’d seen Bin near the subway station before, I hadn’t realized he had a driver. Then again, the way he dressed so well, it made sense that he was well-off. He said he ran a studio—he was, after all, the head of a business.
After a while, I saw Bin come back out. He was carrying a gold-colored bundle. The driver following behind him was carrying something as well. They went to the trunk, loaded the items, and got back into the car.
“Your stomach still uncomfortable?”
“Yes. I think I’ll just sleep today.”
Bin nodded, and the car started moving again, heading straight to my apartment. Since my building was near the entrance, there was no need to drive all the way inside, so I asked to be dropped off at the gate.
“Thank you. I’ll treat you to a meal next time.”
As I greeted him and opened the car door, my right arm was grabbed by Bin.
“Wait. I’ve got something for you.”
Bin got out as well and said he’d carry this inside for me, taking the items from the trunk. It was the bundle he’d brought from the restaurant earlier.
“What’s this?”
“Side dishes and a galbi set. Stuff like that. I felt bad that I couldn’t buy you the galbi set last time.”
“Ah… I don’t know if I should accept all this. You even paid the hospital bill…”
“If we lived together, I’d cook for you myself—but you said you don’t want a roommate. For now, just make sure you eat properly. And don’t forget to take your medicine.”
“Thank you.”
Bin smiled gently and walked ahead carrying the bags, asking which way to go. Feeling bad, I tried to take what the driver was holding instead, but he refused as well. Bin urged me to hurry instead of wasting time arguing.
Left with no choice, I pointed toward my building…and someone suddenly slung an arm around my shoulders.
