“Alright, I get it. Don’t look at me so fiercely, hyung, you’re still young. It’s exciting.”
Yeojun didn’t even respond to Euntae’s words. He just turned his head forward and exhaled the cigarette smoke he had been holding. It was a calm reaction. There was absolutely no sign of being stirred by the mention of excitement. Not even his gaze wavered. It seemed Yeojun, like Euntae, had no desire to attach deep meaning to the previous night’s events. Though it was hot in the moment, there didn’t seem to be any special feelings either. Anyway, they couldn’t pretend what happened last night didn’t happen, and since they still had to face each other, Euntae had needed to test Yeojun’s reaction, and he was somewhat relieved by the response. It didn’t seem like the incident would make things awkward between them or make work difficult.
What a cool person, living with such restraint. Apart from marriage or his relationship with his wife, it was already well-known that he lived a basically ascetic life for the sake of managing his image. This man, who seemed resourceful yet somehow strangely lacking in resourcefulness, pricked Euntae’s curiosity. But he decided not to be more curious than this. Understanding anything is troublesome, and knowing too much was burdensome.
“What?”
While absentmindedly looking at wherever Yeojun was gazing, Yeojun suddenly extended his hand. At that gesture, Euntae looked at Yeojun. The cigarette had already been fully consumed and discarded. Yeojun exhaled with a “whoosh,” releasing the smoke from his last drag to answer Euntae’s question.
“The script. I said I’d bring it.”
“Did you even want to work? You seemed like you weren’t really listening, so I thought you weren’t interested.”
“Should I starve? I need money to calculate alimony too, you know?”
A man’s voice from earlier echoed in Euntae’s mind: “So they’re splitting up now?” So it was true. They really were getting divorced. Then was it true what that man had seen—that Yeojun’s wife was dating someone else?
“Tell me one by one.”
“What?”
“You want to ask, don’t you? Your face is full of curiosity. It’s exactly like our Haneul when he looks at dumplings. He seems so curious about what’s inside. But when you open them up, there’s nothing special, just meat inside.”
“It’s not just ordinary meat, you know? There’s also chives and radish… anyway, there are lots of vegetables. It’s such a complex food.”
Yeojun stared at Euntae for a moment. Then he turned around, left the terrace and entered the living room, with Euntae following behind him.
“You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? Huh? Your face says it all.”
“If you know, take the script and get out.”
“Why? Am I annoying you?”
“Yes. You’re annoying.”
“Wow. So blunt. I’m totally wounded.”
“Will you just leave?”
“But you said you need money.”
Yeojun, who was heading to the dressing room to find clothes, looked at Euntae once more. Again, he didn’t say anything, but his face seemed to be written with harsh curses. Euntae chuckled. Pestering Yeojun often resulted in a lot of cursing, but he found this reaction rather cute. He knew it himself—that this was a bad habit. Anyway, he felt he might really get cursed at and kicked out if he teased any further, so Euntae obediently apologized. And while Yeojun was finding and putting on a t-shirt, Euntae took out the script he had brought and placed it on the table.
“This role is pretty good. The screen time is short, but it has impact.”
Yeojun sat on the sofa and picked up the script. He began to scan through it, focusing on the parts Euntae had already highlighted with a fluorescent pen. Though Euntae had tried to make the role sound good by saying it had impact, Yeojun knew what kind of work came his way these days, so he didn’t have high expectations. But he wasn’t disappointed either, thinking, “Is this the kind of role I get now?” It was just work, and that was enough. He already knew well that he wasn’t in a position to be picky.
“Why… are you getting divorced?”
Euntae was cautious. Even though Yeojun had given permission to ask questions, it was deep into personal life, and he didn’t feel comfortable prying into someone’s private matters, especially someone he wasn’t close with. But the question had already been asked. Just like how he couldn’t close the door last night, or how his ears had somehow opened to listen to conversations about Yeojun at the café earlier, he couldn’t control it. He wanted to do it even though he knew better. Like how Pandora eventually opened the box.
“What do you want to eat? I’m hungry.”
After a long silence, all Yeojun said was that he was hungry. Euntae wondered if he was avoiding the question, but it didn’t seem likely given Yeojun’s personality. He was the kind of person who believed in facing things head-on and dealing with whatever came his way. Besides, hadn’t he told Euntae it was okay to ask? Of course, he hadn’t specifically mentioned what was okay to talk about, but given the flow and nuance, there seemed to be an implicit understanding.
“What would you like to eat?”
“I asked you first.”
“You’re just going to say you don’t like any menu I suggest anyway.”
When Euntae added grumblingly, “You’re so picky,” Yeojun looked at him. Again, his eyes seemed to be saying a lot, but this time Euntae didn’t feel intimidated. He boldly lifted his head and asked, “What? Why?” and Yeojun, who had been staring at Euntae intently, unexpectedly turned his head away without cursing. Was he actually conceding? Perhaps even now, he’s like a wounded tiger…
“Just eat what I buy graciously.”
…or not. It seemed he was too lazy to bother responding to everything. Though Euntae thought, “I’ll just pay for my own meal rather than deal with this attitude,” he was already sitting snugly next to Yeojun, smiling brightly and saying, “I eat anything well.” Whether he had no pride or just liked Yeojun. Or maybe both. Whatever it was, this was familiar to them. Euntae knew that although Yeojun’s words were harsh, there was no malice behind them, and Yeojun knew that Euntae deliberately pushed his buttons. And Euntae knew the proper limits. His teasing was artful, never crossing the line to truly anger Yeojun. Occasionally, these meaningless jokes even helped to lighten the mood. That’s why a faint smile crossed Yeojun’s lips now.
“Today I’ll eat whatever you suggest. I’m too lazy to choose a menu.”
Before Yeojun had even finished speaking, Euntae was already on his phone, browsing menus. Grumbling that he won’t like what Euntae chooses, yet this guy clearly doesn’t truly fear or find him intimidating.
When Yeojun first met Euntae, he had sensed a strangely cool aura about him, making him think Euntae might be cold or indifferent to those around him. But through experience, he found that contrary to his expectations, Euntae had a friendly side, a sense of humor, and an appropriate amount of kindness. “Appropriate,” now that’s an ambiguous expression since the standard for appropriateness differs from person to person, but it was hard to find a better comparison. That’s how Euntae felt to him. He seemed friendly, but there was always a certain distance. That distance probably didn’t burden either himself or others. Maybe that’s why he had many people around him, though on the other hand, it also seemed like he didn’t have many deep relationships.
“Why are you staring at me so intensely? I know I’m handsome, you know.”
Yeojun had somehow turned his body toward Euntae, resting his arm on the backrest, propping his chin up, and was now staring intently at Euntae. It wasn’t exactly “intense” as Euntae had described. It was more of an unconscious observation.
“Do I have to pay to look at that handsome face of yours?”
“How much are you offering? I’m expensive.”
“Euntae, look at me.”
Euntae looked up at Yeojun with a “What?” For a moment, they just silently looked at each other’s faces, and thinking Yeojun might have something to say, Euntae asked once more, “What’s wrong?” Only then did Yeojun speak.
“My face is more expensive, but I’ll let it slide.”
“Wow, really…”
“Swallow it.”
“What?”
“Swallow whatever you were going to say next. It’ll be better for your well-being.”
“Aren’t you curious what I was going to say?”
“Nope. Not curious. It’s obvious what you’d say. Something like ‘that’s annoying,’ right?”
Euntae didn’t respond to Yeojun’s words. It must have been true. Since Euntae couldn’t lie, he kept his mouth shut and averted his gaze, making his sincerity so evident that Yeojun narrowed his brow. After guessing out loud what was obvious and putting words in Euntae’s mouth, he seemed upset that it might actually be true. Yeojun stretched out his long legs and kicked Euntae’s shins repeatedly, demanding a corrected response with “Hey, hey, aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong?” but Euntae kept his mouth firmly shut and even squeezed his eyes closed, as if preserving his integrity. And soon after, laughter erupted from this trivial joke.
“With that face, why don’t you become an actor?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
