“Does everyone handsome become an actor? That’s your profession, don’t say it so lightly.”
At that moment, having completed the food order, Euntae put his phone down on the table, leaned back deeply into the sofa, and tilted his head to look at the ceiling. With the cold weather, he’d been busy running around from place to place, making it a somewhat tiring day. Being like this easily induced a languid feeling. Yeojun was still looking at Euntae in the same position. No matter how many times he saw him, Euntae had a handsome face. When he first met Euntae at the office, he even thought he was a newly discovered rookie. Of course, as Euntae said, not everyone handsome becomes an actor, but he had a special quality that made Yeojun think it would be a waste not to use it. Moreover, from what Yeojun had observed of Euntae so far, though not for long, he had the personality suitable for an entertainer. He knew how to maintain a proper distance while strangely drawing people around him. Compared to his own personality, which was somewhat stubbornly straightforward and lacked resourcefulness to the point of seeming foolish, this was something to envy a bit.
“If you have something to say, say it. Even if you tell me you want to eat something else now, I won’t change the order.”
Euntae shifted his gaze from the ceiling to look at Yeojun.
“Why did you do it?”
Yeojun abruptly threw out the question. It was a question without context. For a moment, Euntae didn’t know what he was asking due to the sudden shift. And just as he was trying to catch on belatedly, Yeojun spoke again.
“Why didn’t you pretend not to know? Yesterday.”
Indeed, he was asking about what happened last night. Euntae had thought that the brief testing of waters on the terrace earlier had settled the matter, but apparently that was just his own convenient interpretation. Well, Yeojun was someone who needed more direct communication to understand. That’s what people meant when they said he lacked resourcefulness. Euntae didn’t answer for a moment, just looking at Yeojun’s face. He couldn’t read any particular emotion or signs. But how could one know another’s true feelings unless they expressed them in words?
“Just because. I just wanted to. We were both drunk, after all.”
The last part, about being drunk, felt somewhat cowardly. It was a method people often used to avoid serious meaning by blaming alcohol. But he couldn’t give a better answer either. He himself was puzzled about that part. While he had the impression that Yeojun seemed to want warmth in that moment, he couldn’t explain why he himself had shared that warmth. Strictly speaking, it was an exceptional situation even for him. While he could have sex with strangers he just met, he wasn’t the type to get emotionally involved enough to share such intimate connections with others. Above all, he absolutely detested being tied down by such things.
“You did well.”
Just as Euntae was wondering if he had overstepped, Yeojun spoke. It was an ambiguous statement. Did it mean it was okay, or that he really did well, or was it literal praise?
“When do they start work on this project?”
Euntae didn’t even have time to respond. As he was about to move his lips, Yeojun turned his body and picked up the script from the table, starting to talk about work. Was this resolved now? Were there no more issues? Euntae wanted to confirm further, but chose to keep silent. He didn’t want to stir things up when Yeojun wasn’t saying anything more.
* * *
“It was just time. Time for us to be free from each other.”
Looking at the elevator numbers dropping steadily, Euntae recalled what Yeojun had told him. Just when he thought Yeojun wasn’t going to talk about the divorce after all, he opened up. Perhaps his heart had loosened after enjoying the meal, which he said was quite to his taste.
“We were too festering. When healing a wound, there’s a way to recover by allowing new flesh to grow, but sometimes there’s also the method of cutting it away to prevent further necrosis that could threaten life. Unfortunately, we were the latter case.”
A wound so festered it needed to be cut away. Euntae couldn’t imagine what circumstances would make someone speak of their wife, their family, in such terms. It was natural that Euntae, being only twenty-six and having experienced neither marriage nor a deep relationship, couldn’t understand such emotions. Had they loved deeply? Was that why the wound was so deep? Or had they thought they loved deeply, but it turned out not to be the case? Yeojun said he hoped Dogyeong would find a good person and be happy. He also said she was a good person and deserved that chance. The sincerity could be felt in those words, and judging by that, it was clear Yeojun had loved her.
Ding dong. Euntae was about to ruminate a bit more on how it was clear that Yeojun had loved her, but the elevator announced its arrival at basement level 2 and opened its doors. The cold air of the parking garage suddenly rushed in, causing Euntae to momentarily hunch his shoulders before stretching them out.
“Maybe I should have asked if he was okay.”
After finding his car, opening the door, and sitting in the driver’s seat, Euntae mumbled while firmly gripping the cold steering wheel. While Yeojun was telling his story, Euntae had just listened silently. In fact, throughout the conversation, he had been debating whether to ask if Yeojun knew about Seungju and Dogyeong’s relationship, and if he was really okay with it, but couldn’t open his mouth rashly, and before he could make a decision, Yeojun’s story had ended. Normally, Euntae wasn’t one to hesitate like this—he typically didn’t take deep interest in things—but he felt strangely drawn in. Though Yeojun hadn’t specifically pulled him in, that somehow made him feel worse.
A washed-up actor. That’s how people referred to Yeojun, treating him like he was past his prime. And now the label of “divorcé” would be added to that. Yet this Seo Yeojun, whom everyone treated so trivially, kept occupying Euntae’s thoughts.
“Hello?”
As he was inserting the key to start the engine, his phone rang. When he picked up, a loud voice burst from the other end with “Euntae! You bastard!” Ugh, look at this guy’s voice volume, thought Euntae as he briefly removed the phone from his ear, only to put it back when the person on the other end desperately called out “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!” He finally responded with a simple “What.”
“Alright, I’ll come.”
The call was brief. The caller was Huiseung, one of Euntae’s few friends from college. He was saying there was a performance of his today and asking Euntae to come watch, and Euntae had no reason to refuse. It seemed like good timing since he was feeling a bit stifled anyway. As soon as he hung up, Euntae drove out of the parking garage without hesitation.
* * *
“Hey, brother! It’s been forever!”
Inside a live club where some band was in full performance mode. In this noisy space filled with rough sounds that seemed to pound from the eardrums to the head, his friend Huiseung welcomed Euntae with even more clamor. He spotted Euntae instantly among the crowd, raising both arms in celebration and rushing forward as if about to embrace him, but sensing a chill in Euntae’s silent gaze that suggested he might be murdered the moment of the hug, he decided against it.
“Forever? It’s been a month.”
“Has it only been that long? I feel like I haven’t seen you for half a century.”
As always, Huiseung is a friend who exaggerates. They first met on a fresh spring day when they had both just become freshmen at twenty years old. Not knowing which courses to take, getting pushed aside by upperclassmen, and ending up with chaotic schedules, they happened to meet in some general education class under similar circumstances. Though they were in different departments, they got along well and quickly became friends. Their personalities were similar—neither Euntae nor Huiseung liked to interfere with others, and they were good for casual hangouts, making it easy to get along. Thus, time had passed, and now it had been over six years. Thinking it was a bit creepy how long they’d known each other, Euntae took a sip of the beer he was holding.
“Are you still doing that job?”
“That job” referred to Euntae’s current work as a manager. Euntae nodded slowly to confirm. Looking away, the distant stage was occupied by a passionate band, and in front of it, people crowded, cheering for them. For a very brief moment, Euntae recalled the day he had performed with the band club during his college days. It was also because of this guy’s persuasion that he had joined.
“But why do you always check if I’ve quit my job whenever you see me?”
Euntae’s gaze turned to Huiseung, who grinned broadly with his big mouth.
“Because every time I see you, I think you might have quit.”
“What the hell, man?”
“If you’re going to quit, quit soon. My hard-earned money is being wasted every month.”
“Why did you make such a useless bet? It’s your fault and your karma for underestimating me.”
Euntae had known from the beginning that Huiseung had a bet with friends about his resignation. It was a bet that had started openly in front of Euntae, and since it was just a joke and amusement among close friends, Euntae wasn’t particularly offended. And because it was them, people who knew him very well, he thought they made such bets and had no reason to be angry.
Today was November 20th. Euntae had started this job on April 20th, so coincidentally, today marked exactly seven months. Not seven years, but seven months. He hadn’t started the job with a serious intention of having a career. He just felt he needed to make some money, and while pondering over it, his uncle, who was working at a big agency called Ocean Entertainment, suggested he try it out as a part-time job since they were shorthanded. He had graduated from a reputable university, had no interest in the entertainment industry, and had no intention of becoming a formal employee of the company.
While most of his graduated peers were preparing for jobs at large corporations, civil service, or professional careers, Euntae’s path was somewhat unexpected. Of course, those who thought it was unexpected were just family members who had certain expectations of him or many strangers who didn’t know him well. So he didn’t particularly care, and even Huiseung and the friends who had placed the bet weren’t really surprised. They were just curious about what Euntae, who had always been hard to read, ultimately wanted to do, and what kind of job he would end up in. So Huiseung used the bet as an excuse to probe Euntae whenever they met.
“Don’t disappear after the show.”
Anyway, Euntae still seemed to be in contemplation and unable to set an ultimate goal. For Huiseung, who had always had a firm goal and dream in music, it was hard to empathize with Euntae’s ennui or wandering, but since people are diverse, he figured it could happen and didn’t pressure him further. Whatever he became, Euntae was Euntae, and his life was his responsibility.
“Why? Do you have more to say?”
“Wow, I’m really hurt. We finally meet after the long, long period of a whole month, and you speak so coldly after just exchanging a few words?”
“Were we close enough to see each other more than once a month? ‘Finally’ my ass. You just call people whenever you feel like it.”
“…You go. This guy always says things that get him beaten up, so it’s no fun.”
Huiseung pouted with a sulky face. Anyway, whether it’s Yeojun or this guy, they’re different but it’s nice to have variety in teasing targets, Euntae thought. The moment this thought crossed his mind, he suddenly remembered Yeojun, who would be alone at home. That face, sitting on the living room sofa watching TV without giving a single glance when Euntae said he was leaving. That desolate face, seemingly focused on the TV but showing not a hint of change in gaze or complexion.
“Alright, just do your performance well, dude.”
Though he had told Euntae to go, Huiseung only left his seat after hearing Euntae’s positive response. And soon after, the band “High Risk,” with Huiseung as the leader and vocalist, took the stage, and once again cheers and loud music began to fill the club.
Should I have brought him here instead of leaving him alone? The worry that had briefly flickered and gone out when he started the car in the parking lot now began to occupy his mind anew. And by the time Huiseung finished his performance and came down from the stage, Euntae had disappeared somewhere.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
