Chapter 3
There are quite a few things to prepare. A day passes frantically while I gather not only the clothes and items needed for a month of communal living, but also the things requested by the production team.
“We’re going to create an ‘X Room’.”
“X Room?”
“Yes. Something like a room of memories. Since you two dated for a long time, you have an incredible amount of stuff.”
A staff member makes a groaning sound while moving a heavy box.
“It seems like Sanho-ssi kept most of it.”
“Ahaha. Yes…” I laugh awkwardly.
“Ah, now we don’t need to worry. We were actually concerned about not having enough items. We just need to get a bit more from Woohyeon-ssi’s side?”
“Yes, yes, since it came up, I’ll contact him now. Since we’ve resolved Sanho-ssi’s side, well, it’s just about one couple.”
I can tell without being told—Lee Chan hasn’t brought a single item to fill the X Room.
Even grabbing things randomly, I have enough to fill a room and then some. It means I’m the only one preserving these memories.
You already organized everything away.
“What about the materials?”
“Here.” I hand over the USB.
“Thank you. I’ll check them.”
A young woman smiles and gives me her business card. Since I don’t have business cards yet, I just bow my head.
“By the way, thank you for agreeing to the casting, Sanho-ssi. Since Lee Chan-ssi’s only X is Sanho-ssi, whether you two would appear depended on Sanho-ssi.”
“I see.”
“Are you by any chance a celebrity? A model? Or an influencer? Do you have SNS accounts?” She asks in a lively voice. “Your mask looks sooo good on you.”
“Haha, it’s nothing like that.”
Maybe because she works at a broadcasting station, she’s naturally good at flattering people. I’m not someone with a flashy, standout appearance worthy of such compliments. I just smile awkwardly.
“I majored in hotel management and I’m a chef. I recently got a good opportunity and started working at a small restaurant.”
“Ah, then what are you going to do about work during filming?”
“I contacted them and adjusted the schedule. Since it’s before opening, thankfully they were understanding.”
“Ahhh.”
A few more exchanges follow. Turns out this is also a preliminary interview and the camera is rolling. When they explain that some good parts will be used for broadcast, I nod.
After finishing the interview, I fill out the letter paper the staff brought. When they ask me to write a so-called ‘Ex-lover Manual’ introducing my X, my smiling face freezes.
“Do I… really have to introduce him?”
I don’t want to introduce him. That’s my honest feeling. Because there’s still too much lingering attachment in my heart.
What kind of person Lee Chan is, when he’s lovable, how he draws people in. I want to be the only one who knows such things…
“I’m joking. It takes some time to write, so could you wait a little?”
But I know that shouldn’t be the case. The world doesn’t revolve around just my feelings.
When I start busily writing content with the ballpoint pen, the production team laughs.
“Take your time writing. Lee Chan-ssi will take some time to arrive anyway. You can leave leisurely.”
“…Yes?”
For a moment, my breath catches.
“Chan is… coming?”
The production team answers, “Yes. You two need to meet today.”
***
“Hello.”
The face visible as soon as the door opens is the same as always. Cat-like upturned eyes, light brown pupils and bleached hair. Features that don’t get buried even in clothing so bold it looks daring. And even that confident smile.
“It’s been a while, Yoo Sanho?”
Three cameras, one table. At a small restaurant cast for conversations with exes, Lee Chan is waiting for me.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
At my forced greeting, Lee Chan pulls up the corners of his mouth.
“You’ve changed.”
I’ve changed?
That can’t be. I’m stupidly the same. That’s why I’m here.
If I had changed, I wouldn’t have come this far knowing full well what kind of feelings I’d experience.
“Why have you lost so much weight?”
“…Huh?”
“Writer-nim. Can we add some items to our menu? The main is fine, just sides or desserts. High-calorie ones would be better.”
“Cake and salad?”
“Yes, yes. Ah, please exclude anything with nuts. He’s allergic.”
“…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I bite my lips and lower my head. I hate this sensation of my throat aching and my chest feeling torn.
‘Why are you so skinny? Want to come to my house and eat? I’ll ask my mom to make something delicious.’
‘What do you like? Cake? Is there anything you can’t eat?’
‘Don’t just cry, say something. What’s your name?’
That’s how it was. Blinded by that side of you, I spent the rest of my life following behind you.
Because of that trivial kindness that you’d scoff at if you knew. As if that one moment meant everything.
“Hey.”
Lee Chan leans forward and whispers softly, moving his lips slightly.
“Don’t cry. Can’t you see we’re filming right now?”
When I lift my head slightly, he’s smiling with a slightly furrowed brow.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, Sanho. Show me a smile. Okay?”
In Lee Chan’s left earlobe is a blue piercing. It’s like a kind of charm he always wears to important occasions.
Lee Chan always dreamed of debuting on broadcast. He wanted to show his own talent, not as the son of famous designer Park Yeongsuk, but as Lee Chan himself.
So how important must this occasion be? Important enough to go through with meeting me, which he finds so bothersome.
The table is filled with food. But I have no appetite at all. I slowly push the food that feels like lumps of clay into my stomach. My solar plexus aches from indigestion.
“We’re going to live together for a month.”
At Lee Chan’s words, I put down my fork as if I’ve received permission to stop eating.
“What do you think it’ll be like?”
I can’t imagine it well. Even though this isn’t a mirage that will vanish because we broke up.
At some point, whenever I think of you, I feel lost. Like I’ve lost my way in the deep ocean.
“I don’t know.”
I answer after a long while.
“I don’t know… Why you suggested we go on this show. What you were feeling when you contacted me. Why you’re acting like nothing happened. Why nothing about you has changed. Did you… never think about how I would feel?”
The words that have been sitting inside come pouring out like vomit.
“Right. It was a lie when I said I forgot you. I came along because it seemed like an opportunity. It’s not that I think you’re giving me a chance. I’m not expecting anything, but…”
But still, because I can see you, my heart keeps leaning toward you. Like inertia, like habit, like stubbornness.
“I can at least try my best to hold onto you.”
“Yoo Sanho.”
“What, do you regret asking me to go on this show? But what can you do about the fact that I’m the only person you’ve dated?”
“…”
“Even though you knew it was a lie, you should have played along, so just deal with this much too…”
There’s no way he would have believed my words about not being pathetic. Because I was always the one wanting more from you, even when we were dating. No, from the time we first met at age five. Because I struggled with just one smile from you, one act of kindness. Come when you say come, go when you say go, don’t look when you say don’t look, break up when you say break up.
Stupid pushover Yoo Sanho, whose world flips and turns with just one gesture from you.
Lee Chan shrugs his shoulders and sighs. His gaze bears down on me briefly as if he expected this. Like broken glass shards with sharp edges, everywhere his gaze touches on my face stings.
He holds out a handkerchief to me.
“I won’t cross the line beyond this. Whether you still have feelings or not doesn’t matter. Explaining to you so you understand, driving home that there’s no possibility—that’s the friendship and courtesy I maintain toward you.”
“…”
“Because you’re wavering, I’m being more resolute, and I trust you’ll understand.”
“…Chan.”
“See you on move-in day, Sanho.”
Lee Chan stands up first. He greets the staff and moves toward the exit. With an indifferent touch, he pats my shoulder. Just like on the day we broke up.
With the sound of a bell ringing, Lee Chan leaves my side.
“I’m sorry…”
Filming is ending and I should get up, but my body won’t listen. As I bow my head and burst into tears, the staff seem a bit flustered and murmur among themselves.
Someone speaks to me in a careful tone as I clutch the handkerchief tightly. Sanho-ssi, we can wait a bit. It would be better if you leave after getting your emotions together. Should we give you some space?
They probably worry I might have some accident if I leave like this. I smile awkwardly and stand up.
“No, it’s okay… I’m sorry, could you please edit out this crying part… I’m sorry. I’ll go now… I’m really sorry.”
Only after pouring out apologies that neither the giver nor receiver understand do I escape that place. I walk the streets randomly with staggering, directionless steps.
And thirty minutes later, I encounter some fate that I absolutely cannot avoid.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
