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Even while hearing various harsh words from them, including “the youngest must be going through a belated puberty,” Hangeul briefly pondered amidst it all.
‘Is that so? Am I going through puberty right now?’
More than anything else, seeing how his petulance was rising to the brim, it seemed like that was probably the case. As soon as the car arrived at OORA’s dorm, one of his hyung members came straight to Hangeul’s room as if he’d been waiting and coaxed him.
“What is it? Tell me everything honestly. Hyung will definitely solve it for you.”
When he persistently nagged, saying he wouldn’t go anywhere until Hangeul spoke, the hesitant Hangeul finally began to open up with difficulty. He decided to do so because it seemed better to confide in someone rather than keeping it all bottled up inside by himself.
“So we were all playing a game together…”
His tone seemed like he was trying to gloss over things, and his hands fiddling with the bed cover became even slower. The member urged him on as if frustrated.
“Suddenly a game? You met in a game? What kind of game!?”
“Hyung, do you know ‘freeze tag’?”
“Of course I know it. You and I aren’t that many years apart. I keep forgetting, so I’m telling you this one last time – we’re practically the same age.”
“I see. Anyway, we were playing freeze tag, and I got caught by ‘it’ so I was frozen first, you know? But when I opened my eyes, my teammate who was supposed to call out ‘unfreeze’ had already disappeared.”
…The member couldn’t bring himself to scold him by saying “What are you talking about, you crazy bastard! Are you messing with me right now!?” because Hangeul’s face telling this strange story looked utterly serious. Instead, he patted Hangeul’s shoulder with a pitying expression, telling him to cheer up, then disappeared. Watching his retreating figure that seemed to have lost interest without any lingering attachment, Hangeul thought:
‘What’s this? It’s like he’s looking at a crazy person.’
Watching that back turning away from him, he was reminded once again of Kim Bunhong from that day. No matter what thoughts came to mind, his unconscious mind would invariably roll back like a hamster wheel to that day in the past.
Just how should he have held on to get a better result than now? He suddenly became curious about that. He thought there was nothing more terrible than not being able to contact someone even though he knew their contact information, and even though they were now at the same company. The biggest problem was that even when he tried to fabricate some business, there was no justification whatsoever.
* * *
For a very long time, Hangeul had been thinking alone. What exactly was the source of emotions? Where did they flow in from, and where did they flow to? Like the story of the tin woodsman in a fairy tale who belatedly realized his heart had disappeared, it was because the deficiency deeply seated within him had reached him painfully at some point.
[“You say you love me? That you’d die without me? That’s quite sad. If only your words had substance and could hold onto my fickle heart.”]
A videotape whose film had become tattered and stretched from being rewound endlessly by himself. Since childhood, whenever Hangeul’s mood became endlessly depressed, he had the habit of always rewinding and watching <Gypsy>, the movie starring his mother Yoon Hira.
[“Oh my, how amusing. Why don’t you believe me?”
“……”
“Haven’t you already felt it through me? That nothing in this world lasts forever…!”]
He had watched the movie so obsessively that he eventually memorized what scenes would unfold every few seconds and what lines would be delivered to the co-star.
In past memories, within the screen, that woman who would remain beautiful forever appeared in the house from time to time, then repeatedly disappeared. Like a gloomy ghost trapped in a mansion, unable to find peace, she lingered around watching young Hangeul gradually grow up.
Some days she would grab his throat and scream like a madwoman.
‘It’s because of you! I regret it so much. If I had known it would be like this, I should have chosen not to give birth. Look at this, these hideous flesh! You ruined everything for me! I’m supposed to be beautiful forever…!’
She wailed, telling him to look at her body that had been ruined after childbirth. Crash. When she swept the vanity table, a large mirror fell to the floor and fragments scattered in the air. Blood gradually seeped out from under the woman’s feet as she staggered and moved.
Without thinking to treat her wounds, she looked at her reflection in the broken glass and screamed incessantly. Along with that terrible sound, Hangeul’s eyes also saw the woman’s afterimage reflected through the glass.
If he had been even a little older then, perhaps Hangeul could have held her trembling, delicate body and comforted her so tenderly.
…’I was wrong. Please don’t cry with such an expression.’
If he could, he wanted to soothe the poor soul wounded because of him. Although it wasn’t easy to accept that his very birth could be a sin to someone, if that woman wanted it, he could gladly do so.
However, the reason he couldn’t despite his desperate wishes was because Hangeul in those past memories was far too young. Also, his arms and legs were thin and his embrace too small, as he hadn’t grown properly enough to fully embrace another person.
He couldn’t respond at all to the raining kicks. He could only tremble in fear, unable to refuse even the rough hands busy abusing him.
Someone might ask why he didn’t fight back. Well, why indeed?
‘No. It’s not your fault. I, no. Mommy is sorry. Sorry, sorry… sorry. Hangeul.’
Gasping for breath while his consciousness grew dim, his eyelids beginning to tremble as he felt his limits – even while his throat was being choked terrifyingly, perhaps it was because he could feel the warmth of tears touching his cheek.
‘……’
Hangeul just looked up at her helplessly, powerlessly. Then the strength gradually left the skeletal chopstick-like arms that had been choking him violently. Whether it was misfortune or fortune, in the midst of it all, his eyes met with Hangeul’s, who looked just like her and was simply pretty. She who had been sobbing countless apologies to him like chanting a spell finally began to wail aloud.
‘What should I do? Love has ruined everything in the end…’
A beautiful but withering flower. His mother.
‘Hangeul. All the beauty you will have from now on was created by stealing my nutrients from inside my womb. Keep that well.’
Those were the last words she gave to Hangeul. Her dying words were like a curse full of malice that a witch would cast upon a princess.
‘…Never forget. What isn’t beautiful is ugly. Love is just like that. It’s as good as dead.’
The hem that had been flickering just within reach finally scattered into the air. Like that, there were long legs hanging limply in the air above the bathroom. Nothing flowed from the endlessly stretched tongue, leaving only eternal silence. Yes, no more words at all…
The beautiful actress was trapped forever in the screen just as she had desperately wished in life.
[“…Because I will be beautiful forever.”]
Before wrinkles could form on her fine hands, she was eternally preserved there in her fresh youth.
Even though his mother disappeared like foam, the words she left before dying bound Hangeul like shackles.
‘What is love?’
The seed she planted in Hangeul’s heart regardless of his will grew vigorously. It had such tenacious vitality that it boasted a growing presence day by day even without any nourishment. As a result, it climbed up the stem and eventually became an endless question that constantly tormented him.
As time passed, the outer skin he wore came to resemble the actress famous for her beautiful appearance. However, a truth no one could know – inside him lurked a beast that was nothing but ugly.
After his mother’s death, as if cursed to have his emotions stolen, he absolutely could not love anyone else. Whenever even a little interest arose, her dying words would block it like a wall.
Still, Hangeul was fine. After all, it was the world’s truth that love was easy and parting would inevitably come someday. He thought that a free life of doing whatever he wanted would be an incomparably better choice than risking his life on such trivial things and becoming a laughingstock.
Since there was nothing real in the world anyway, he too lived putting on airs like the other fakes scattered throughout the world. There was no one around who found Hangeul strange for not knowing the emotion called love. They merely dismissed it as severe narcissism.
‘…That’s definitely how it was. I’ve lived that way until now.’
Could he have ever imagined that just one song, someone else’s emotions, would reach him so painfully?
At the audition venue, the song of love that Hangeul absolutely didn’t believe in flowed from his lips… Even knowing it wasn’t a voice meant for himself, it was so heartbreaking. The flower withered before it could even bloom.
The loneliness that young Hangeul in the past couldn’t have embraced, he felt from that boy too. Even knowing this, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away and leave.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
