It was evening when I arrived home. I went into my room and lay down without even being able to swallow a bite of food.
Over the past few days, far too many things had come crashing down at once. I could feel my head, compacted with exhaustion, stiff and unyielding.
I lifted an arm to cover my eyes and recalled the scene I had witnessed earlier.
…The opportunity Go Heemin had created. The conversation he told me to hear directly if I wanted to be certain.
I quietly listened to the sharp confrontation between Kang Taeyoon and Min Siheon. Min Siheon’s unfamiliar expression was one thing, but the topic they were discussing pierced straight into my chest.
“…You crazy bastard.”
Even at Kang Taeyoon’s curse, laced with a hollow laugh, Min Siheon didn’t waver easily. He simply breathed quietly, sending out a gaze that seemed to scan his surroundings.
“You just need to keep your mouths shut.”
“Is that a warning?”
“Think of it however you like.”
Among the puzzle pieces that were falling into place one by one, only a single piece remained.
Min Siheon’s head began to turn in this direction.
Sensing it, Kang Taeyoon threw out a remark, as if trying to divert his attention and provoke him.
“You’re going to keep lying like that?”
“…That’s why I’m holding back.”
“…You’re both equally pathetic.”
At last, the entire picture was complete. A light had been cast upon the truth I had instinctively been avoiding.
Ah… so that was it. Everything that had happened until now flashed through my mind.
“Ha…. Haha….”
It felt as though a tightly tangled ball of thread had finally found its rightful place and was slowly unraveling.
Idiot. Only then did I realize what kind of misunderstanding I had been trapped in.
Even as I held my breath, thinking I mustn’t get caught by the two of them, a hollow laugh escaped me at my own stupidity.
As I glanced around the silent interior where not even a breath could be heard, my eyes met Kang Taeyoon’s—he had already turned his gaze toward me.
As if he had known from the beginning that I was there, he rolled his eyes slightly, signaling that I should leave.
Did I look that unstable? Rare consideration from him—so I gave a small nod to show I understood.
That was how I ended up turning back and coming home, just a short while ago.
I couldn’t remember in what state of mind I had even managed to get here.
Thank you. Go Heemin, Kang Taeyoon. After moving my arm away from my eyes, I stared up at the fluorescent-lit ceiling.
Ever since earlier, the image of Min Siheon’s back—rigid, as though straining to hold himself together—had been floating before my eyes. …It looked like he’d lost some weight.
Beside his sharply honed gaze, I vividly recalled the hollowed shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept, and the deep crease carved between his brows.
Yeah. Let’s see this through to the end. Though, honestly, there wasn’t even much of an “end” to speak of.
I had messed things up beyond belief—whether the outcome was the worst or the best didn’t matter. I just had to reach some kind of result.
And calling it a “result” was generous. Once it reached this stage, there wasn’t really any method left to speak of.
Love really makes a person pathetic. …Shit, I already knew we probably couldn’t even remain friends anymore.
Min Siheon—he must have completely fallen out of affection for me. I’d done something I truly shouldn’t have done to him.
I’d been so busy trying to get a hold of my own feelings that I’d spent my days endlessly running away from him.
Idiot. Why did you stay by my side, even while suppressing yourself like that?
Who am I? What is Cha Jungwoo, that you’d go that far? My eyes stung as if tears might spill, so I pressed my arm against them again.
Min Siheon didn’t like Go Heemin. And that heart of his—it had been directed at me.
But I ruined everything. I’d avoided him for nearly a week. There was probably nothing left for me but his resentment.
He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. His frayed nerves must have turned into hatred toward me.
Yeah. He’s human too. At this point, even whatever good feelings he had must have disappeared. Anyone would feel bad if their words were ignored even once—so to him, I must be the worst kind of person.
[Jungwoo, why aren’t you responding?]
[Nothing’s wrong, right?]
[Can you at least pick up the phone?]
:
:
[…I saw you today. Why did you run away?]
:
:
[Cha Jungwoo. Contact me before I come find you myself.]
As I read through the messages, growing more rigid in tone, my certainty only solidified.
Especially… looking at the last one, I felt like I could see the ending of this relationship.
Min Siheon had even threatened Kang Taeyoon and Go Heemin, showing me a different side of himself.
But seeing those words, stripped bare as if a shell had been shed, turned my mind completely white.
Then… was the scene I witnessed today him holding out for the sake of a final farewell with me? Love had made me run away.
If I expected something and instead heard something humiliating, I wouldn’t be able to endure it. As if some defense mechanism had kicked in, only the worst possible outcomes came to mind.
So I was this much of a coward. For the first time, I reflected on my own foolishness.
…Still, couldn’t I at least see him, even from a little distance? Slowly, I pushed myself upright.
The thought that we might never meet again made my head spin—but when I imagined Min Siheon waiting, it felt like I didn’t have any more time to waste.
So first, I picked up the phone I’d tossed aside. It seemed to have quieted down a bit after his meeting with Kang Taeyoon.
But he’d contacted me so persistently that if I let my guard down even a little, the battery would die—adding weight to my guilt.
You idiot. You couldn’t even understand your own heart, and you tangled things up this badly.
I knew it was far too late for regret.
I felt like I should at least tell Min Siheon to hit me as much as he needed to, until he felt better.
On the way, I’d let him vent his resentment—even if that was the only way to ease the suffering he’d bottled up….
And if that still wasn’t enough, then fine. I’d do whatever he asked.
Even if he told me to disappear from his sight forever, I’d have no choice but to accept it.
“So this is what’s really scary—when it might be the last contact.”
With trembling fingers, I pulled up Min Siheon’s contact. Not that I had to search—my recent history was filled entirely with his name.
With a heart that felt hollowed out, I typed a message to him. How many times did I delete and rewrite it? Finally, a simple line remained.
[I’m sorry for ignoring your calls all this time. If you’re not uncomfortable with it, can we meet face-to-face? If it’s too hard, you don’t have to come. Siheon… I’m sorry.]
Only after letting out a small sigh did I manage to press send.
As soon as I confirmed the message had been delivered, I grabbed a light jacket, my phone, and my wallet, and headed outside.
Ah. A perfect day to get dumped. I thought as I looked up at the bright, full moon.
…God, I’m losing it. Even over that, I could see Min Siheon’s face.
***
The place I chose to wait for him was a snack bar not far from Min Siheon’s officetel.
Since the neighborhood was quiet, places like this were rare. I had no idea that the spot where I’d once chatted with him would become the place where I’d get dumped.
They say you never know what the future holds, but still… I bowed my head, half-hiding my face, to greet the owner who welcomed me inside.
Maybe because it was a weekday evening, the interior was nearly empty.
After asking for permission, I took the seat in the farthest corner and ordered a few bottles of soju and some basic side dishes.
Now the rest was entirely Min Siheon’s choice. I hadn’t even set a time, telling him to come whenever he wanted. Whether he would show up or not—this unknown stretch of time was something I had to endure alone.
If he came, it’d be chaos. If he didn’t, it’d still be chaos. As anxiety crept in over this uncertain choice,
I rested my chin on the plastic table and poured myself one drink, then another.
One because I was scared. One because the time waiting for him felt unbearably long. One to forget the fear that he might not come. One while wondering what I should even say when I saw him.
This might really be the last time. I knew it would be best to face him sober.
To take him in clearly—that would be the best kind of farewell. That much was obvious.
But the flood of emotions couldn’t be helped.
If only to soothe my burning stomach, I couldn’t stop this motion of my hand. Even as I tipped back another shot, a hollow laugh slipped out.
Wow. I keep telling myself I’m getting dumped, getting dumped—and it already feels like I have. But what else is there to do? He’s probably already fallen out of affection for me. Then that’s being dumped, isn’t it? What even is the difference?
“Ha….”
Don’t hold onto lingering feelings. …No, actually, I had a fuck ton of lingering feelings.
I was just a sinner with nothing to say. So I decided to keep my mouth shut.
But is he not coming? I checked the empty seat across from me again. I never thought I’d live to fear drinking alone at a snack bar.
…Ah, whatever. If he doesn’t come, I’ll just drink until I’m completely wasted and then go home.
I’m skipping all my classes tomorrow. Letting out a heavy sigh, I was about to lift my glass again—
Thud—someone grabbed my wrist, the one holding the glass.
The soju sloshed over, wetting my fingers. Startled by the cold, I looked up at the owner of the hand.
A scar across the back of his hand, now only faintly pink. …It was Min Siheon.
It still hadn’t fully healed. The scar on his hand made my chest ache.
“……”
Still dressed the same as earlier in the day, sweat-soaked, he looked down at me. Wherever he had come from, he looked utterly exhausted.
He seemed thinner than last week, and before I knew it, I was staring at him with my mouth slightly open.
Beyond our locked gaze, the fierce look I had glimpsed before had subsided.
For reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, it felt like he had returned to the Min Siheon I knew.
