- Size or Direction (8)
When I just stared blankly at the person in confusion, he let go of my wrist with a startled expression.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
After I replied that it was fine, the man flailed his arms and explained apologetically.
“Hanbok pretty. Like pretty clothes. Want commemoration photo.”
Ah. So he was saying the clothes were pretty. He seemed to have poor Korean skills and didn’t explain himself well.
Glancing around, I noticed not just the man but his companions were looking at me with sparkling eyes. They seemed fascinated by my colorful attire.
It made sense. Since I was dressed with photography in mind, everything from the fabric to the accessories was inevitably splendid. Whenever the sunlight caught my ornate hat string and norigae pendants, people’s gazes seemed to sparkle along with them.
‘When renting something in a hurry for a day, options are limited…’
It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and I had no reason to refuse. I nodded with a pleasant smile.
“Where would you like me to stand?”
I ended up taking dozens of photos among the crowd. At the end, someone even produced a Polaroid camera from who knows where, and they gave me two photos as a gift, saying they were souvenirs.
“You buy such hanbok yourself? Like traditional clothes?”
“No, I just rented it because of certain circumstances… You think it’s pretty? Thank you. That lady’s skirt over there is pretty too. It reminds me of dancheong.”
“Danjeong? Dangchong? What is that?”
“Dancheong. It’s called dancheong… Look up there, can you see?”
After fumbling for a moment, I pointed above our heads. The colorful painted patterns under the roof were gazing down at us.
“That’s what I mean. Painting.”
“Ah, painting. Decorate pretty.”
“It is decoration, but actually, applying that prevents the wood from deteriorating.”
Unlike today’s concrete buildings, old hanok houses and palaces were built by fitting wooden pieces together, making them vulnerable to warping and damage from rain and wind.
When I explained that the paint was initially applied to prevent carefully built houses from being damaged, and that it eventually evolved into art, the foreigners’ eyes widened. Their looks suggested they were impressed, wondering how I knew such things.
“Smart. Know Korean culture well.”
“Well, I am Korean. We learn all this in school, so it’s not difficult…”
“Then that. Do you know that? Figures on roof. Here five, there seven. Saw eleven earlier.”
“Those are called japsang.”
I was a bit worried he might ask something difficult, but fortunately, I knew about this. I looked at what the man was pointing to and said:
“Bad luck… no, that’s too complicated? They prevent misfortune.”
“They look at sky to prevent bad things?”
“That’s right. Disasters usually come from the sky.”
Wooden buildings are vulnerable to water, fire, and the elements. Since praying for protection from natural disasters was the only option, these japsang figures on the roof embodied those wishes.
The foreigners’ eyes lit up as if they’d heard something remarkable.
“We have similar things in our country. Gargoyles.”
“Gargoyles?”
“Make gargoyles on cathedrals. Look for devils, protect church. Like this.”
He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and looked down at me. He seemed to be explaining that stone statues are placed atop tall Gothic buildings to look down below.
“Bad things usually start with people.”
I thought about how this revealed the difference between Eastern belief that misfortune comes from the sky and Western belief that evil hides among people.
“What do you believe?”
“Well…”
Since bad things aren’t just one type, both perspectives seemed valid. Both disasters that fall from above and misfortunes resulting from wrong choices can be considered “bad things.”
“Does it matter where they come from?”
Pondering why such things happen or why they happen specifically to me doesn’t seem that important. Even if we knew, there might not be much we could change.
“What matters is that these things happen to people, and people have to resolve them. The strength to endure them also comes from within people.”
After speaking, I realized it might have been too philosophical and difficult to understand. Feeling a bit apologetic, I glanced at him, and the man blinked his large eyes.
“Oh. Inner beauty too.”
It was fascinating how he seemed to struggle with Korean yet could use such difficult words.
While I was lost in thought…
“Pretty young man. SNS? Do you have a secret account?”
I had neither public nor secret accounts. Knowing that most privacy controversies originate from social media, I never started one. Disliking the idea of disappointing people with careless mistakes, I even entrusted our group’s SNS to the marketing manager.
“I don’t.”
“Don’t like travel? Canada’s winter is beautiful. If you’re lucky, you can see aurora. I could guide you.”
I couldn’t help but be taken aback. I’d only been talking about palaces, so why the sudden mention of Canada?
“I mean, I want to meet you more personally.”
“…What?”
“I like men too.”
That’s when I understood. The compliments about my appearance weren’t due to poor Korean skills but were actually aimed at me personally. It wasn’t aesthetic admiration but had a personal purpose.
I answered as politely yet firmly as possible.
“I’m sorry.”
Then the woman beside him, wearing the dancheong-like skirt, slapped his back and scolded:
“I told you not to hit on everyone you find pretty! Most people in this world aren’t gay!”
Technically speaking, I am gay. I’m a man, and Jihan is a man too. But for professional reasons aside, it felt awkward to tell strangers I was gay. I’ve never loved anyone other than Na Jihan, and I didn’t fall for him because he was a man.
Seeing my discomfort, the foreigner began apologizing frantically. His words were a mix of English that emerged when he was flustered and broken Korean. Jumbled statements tumbled out: he thought I was so pretty he wished I were gay, he was sorry if he was rude, if I wasn’t interested we could move on.
“It’s okay. Since you understand the misunderstanding…”
I was about to continue saying that while I had absolutely no interest in that direction, it was fine since he was apologetic.
“Oh my, Young Master Seowoo. I was wondering where you’d gotten lost, and here you are!”
Hearing the familiar voice, I turned my head to see Hapil Jae approaching with a leisurely stride, his eyes creased into a smile.
“I thought you’d set up house in the palace. Let’s go, let’s go. Now…”
Hapil Jae pulled me close and gave the foreigners a quick glance, his smile unchanged. His gaze lingered particularly long on the tall man beside me.
Then he said something quite outrageous:
“Your boyfriend who just finished work was asking where Yoon Seowoo went, complaining why he wasn’t taking care of you and left you alone.”
“Um…”
“Shocking, right? And he’s the one who choreographed for you. Anyway, let’s go back! I was getting tired of Na Jihan’s fussing.”
“Boyfriend?”
Hapil Jae naturally pulled me along and we started walking together, leaving behind the foreigner with his mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and disappointment.
“He was obviously hitting on you, wasn’t he? Don’t tell me you were interested?”
“…Absolutely not. He asked me to take photos, so I thought he was just a tourist. If I’d known he was flirting, I would have avoided him.”
It was true. I still had two Polaroid photos of the four of them posing together in my hand. After witnessing that scene, my explanation sounded like a lame excuse.
“I guess so. Well, he didn’t seem like a bad person. It’s not like he tried to lure you somewhere secluded. Actually, I wasn’t searching for hyung at all. I just said that so those people would hear.”
That seemed likely. If he’d really been looking for me, he should have at least shown some sign of relief. But Hapil Jae’s attitude remained consistently carefree.
I hadn’t even gone far from the filming location. I know enough now to be careful when going out alone.
“But it’s surprising you didn’t realize his intentions. You’re really oblivious to these things, hyung? At first, I thought it was because you were a sheltered young master from a wealthy family…”
Hapil Jae shook his head and continued:
“You just don’t seem interested in other people. More precisely, you don’t seem interested in others’ feelings. It’s like you don’t care whether someone likes you or not, with no intention of responding at all?”
In a way, he was right. Unlike the popularity I gained from the public, I had no interest in personal affection. Since I already had someone I liked, even if someone liked me, it wouldn’t mean anything, would it?
Hapil Jae had a pensive expression. I was curious about what he was thinking, but knowing he wouldn’t tell me even if I asked, I let it go.
Soon we rejoined the filming crew. Na Jihan, who had finished shooting his solo dance near the open lakeside, asked in a gruff voice as soon as he saw me:
“Where did you go? Not even watching me film. I changed into a dopo and worked really hard.”
“Oh my, look at that. Na Jihan’s obsession is really… Take it easy, hyung. You’ll make Seowoo hyung sick of you, okay?”
Hapil Jae stuck out his tongue as if exasperated, then went over to Joo Lee Seon. I wanted to quietly follow him, but Jihan was quicker, grabbing my waist and pulling me toward him.
“Are you really sick of me? Is that why you ran away?”
“No…”
I was about to ask, “Why do you guys always talk like that?” but stopped myself. I could see the red light still on one of the remaining cameras.
‘You’re always making me flustered like this.’
Well, if we’re doing this Business Gay Performance, I should counter-attack.
With that thought, I delivered my winning line:
“Men who are too possessive aren’t attractive, Jihan.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
