65
“I have an extra ticket. Would you like to go see a musical with me?”
Ojun quietly stared at the message from Wooseok. Even to Ojun, who had little dating experience, it was an obvious excuse and line. As if extra musical tickets would be so easily available.
Nevertheless, Ojun couldn’t immediately refuse Wooseok’s offer.
On the day Ojun encountered Wooseok at the hospital, Wooseok treated Ojun’s mother and Ojun to a meal.
He took the mother and son to a soft tofu restaurant near the hospital. Mom kept breaking into smiles, saying it had been a long time since she’d eaten out, and Wooseok appropriately kept up the conversation.
Mom’s face looked so bright that Ojun couldn’t stop Wooseok’s exaggerated boasting—most of which was praise about Ojun.
So Ojun owed Wooseok a meal. And musical tickets couldn’t be canceled on the day of the performance. If I refuse, wouldn’t it be a waste?
Ojun couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a musical. Ignoring the fact that he himself was making obviously stupid excuses, Ojun typed his message.
“What time is the performance?”
“It works out if you go after work. I’ll pick you up.”
“Please don’t come.”
“Then you can come pick me up.”
Pfft. A laugh escaped from Ojun’s lips. He glanced nervously at the surveillance camera and pretended to organize documents while clearing his throat.
The musical was a mystery psychological thriller.
Alumni who had heard about a hidden treasure at their school return and search for it while suspecting each other. Eventually, they discover that the treasure is the time capsule they had buried long ago, feel deflated, and then find the true meaning of life. In short, it was clichéd.
Still, the musical numbers were pleasant to listen to. For an “extra ticket,” the seat was good, allowing a clear view of the actors’ performances. Ojun kept glancing at Wooseok’s face as he watched the show.
Wooseok’s nose bridge appeared and disappeared in the stage lighting. Occasionally, his face would scrunch up when there was a funny line.
He’s ridiculously handsome. Ojun thought.
Wooseok would laugh during humorous scenes and become serious during dramatic ones. Such a Wooseok seemed like someone living the “meaning of life” that the performance was talking about—an ordinary and precious daily life. As Ojun thought this, he unconsciously felt a bit excited.
“Are you not enjoying it?”
Wooseok turned toward Ojun and asked in a small voice. Ojun hurriedly turned his head and fixed his gaze on the stage.
“At least you, Ken, have let her into your life, so you’ve gained something more valuable than treasure!”
“That’s right, at least I’ll spend the rest of my life with my thorny rose.”
The actor exclaimed in a playful voice. Hahaha. The audience burst into laughter. The man and woman embracing each other on stage seemed like they would never part.
And so, with everyone laughing, the curtain fell.
The two stayed in their seats for a while even after the curtain call ended, and only got up after almost all the audience had left.
“Have you had dinner?”
“Want to get a late-night snack?”
The moment they left the theater, Ojun asked if Wooseok wanted a late-night snack, and Wooseok asked if Ojun had eaten dinner. An awkward silence hung between them after speaking simultaneously.
“What kind of late-night snack do you like?”
Wooseok asked first.
“Can you handle spicy food?”
“Of course.”
When Ojun asked, Wooseok answered cheerfully.
Ojun took Wooseok to a tteokbokki place that stayed open late. It also served as a bar, selling their signature menu of spicy tteokbokki paired with soju or beer.
“…You can’t handle spicy food, can you.”
Ojun handed a probiotic drink to Wooseok, whose face had turned bright red.
“I usually can eat it well…”
Wooseok didn’t refuse and gulped down the drink.
“Is this tasty to you?”
Wooseok asked, watching Ojun chew and swallow the tteokbokki without changing his expression. Ojun nodded.
“Isn’t this on the sweeter side?”
“What?”
Wooseok looked at Ojun with considerable doubt on his face. A small laugh escaped from Ojun’s mouth. Ojun flipped through the menu. Then he ordered french fries topped with lots of cheese.
“Just eat the fries. Or should I wash off the spicy sauce for you?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Wooseok stared at the grinning Ojun.
Maybe because it had been a while since he’d mixed soju and beer, Ojun was in a good mood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had leisure time like this after work. It was also nice to be spending it with Wooseok.
In this optimistic mood, Ojun thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to date Wooseok. Like occasionally seeing performances or taking walks after work, and spending everyday life eating less spicy food together.
So Ojun asked a question he normally wouldn’t have.
“What are your plans for the future, Director?”
“Me?”
Wooseok pointed at himself with his index finger, as if surprised. When Ojun nodded, Wooseok remained silent for a moment, appearing to think.
“…Well. I don’t have anything specific to call a plan, but I do have something that could be called a goal.”
“What is it?”
“Something that might make you nervous if you heard it?”
“W-What…”
As Ojun stammered, Wooseok smiled crookedly. It was quite a bitter smile.
Ojun stirred his tteokbokki needlessly. He was shocked by Wooseok’s words.
Wooseok is a person permanently bound to the Center. Moreover, he’s someone who opposes the Center Director, and that will indirectly affect Ojun’s work somehow. Ojun had completely forgotten about that.
“Do you have any plans for the future, Ojun?”
Wooseok asked in return.
“…Not really.”
For Ojun, his mother was his future. That’s why Ojun couldn’t see far ahead and only thought about things right in front of him. Being so preoccupied with solving immediate problems, he hadn’t even considered something like a distant future.
Why did I have to ask about the future? Ojun felt embarrassed by his stupid question.
“I guess we can start thinking about it from now on.”
Wooseok said, extending his beer glass. Ojun clinked glasses with him, smiling weakly.
***
When Jihwan’s voice was heard asking, “Have you seen Minjae Sunbae?” Minjae quickly lowered his head and turned away. He had been on his way to find the guiding room because his guiding levels had suddenly dropped to dangerous levels, but it seemed he would have to postpone that.
Minjae had been avoiding Jihwan since their flight practice a few days ago. Moreover, he made sure to keep the windows tightly closed every time to prevent Jihwan from entering.
Minjae wasn’t sure how to act if he faced Jihwan. Because whenever he thought of Jihwan, he also thought of what had been asserting its presence in Jihwan’s lower body.
I’ve heard some men get like that when they’re nervous or excited? Minjae wondered, but he couldn’t be sure. And it wasn’t something he could just ask about.
Minjae searched his quarters and found the guiding pills that Wooseok always left as extras. He tossed about three pills into his mouth at once.
As his guiding deficiency was alleviated, the tension in his body slowly relaxed. Minjae felt something flowing from the tip of his nose and urgently lowered his head, searching for tissues.
Minjae roughly wiped the blood on the tissue and then crumpled a piece of tissue into a small ball to insert into his nostril. The tissue quickly became soaked red.
Avoiding Jihwan consumed more energy than expected. Minjae had to realize that he had grown accustomed to sticking with Jihwan in a short time. That was problematic.
Minjae had no intention of sharing either his damn symptoms or the things happening deep within the Center with Jihwan. Jihwan sincerely wants to become a hero. He wouldn’t be able to bear the truth.
Let’s not think about unnecessary things. Minjae pulled the tissue out of his nose and tossed it into the trash can. His nosebleed had completely stopped by now.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
