GBH 33
by EmerlynAfter Kim Deuk-pal’s feast ended, he patted his protruding belly. Song Yi-heon had a small stomach, so whenever he ate, his slim belly would bulge out. Though it would quickly deflate, he found it unsightly and tried not to show it in public. But he couldn’t fool Choi Se-kyung’s keen eye. Ever since getting caught with a tadpole belly on the first day at the study hall after dinner, Kim Deuk-pal had been patting his stomach comfortably.
Choi Se-kyung inserted a bill into the vending machine and turned around.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Soda.”
“Have something warm.”
Then why did you ask? Kim Deuk-pal irritably repeated,
“Soda.”
“You’re cold.”
No matter how much Kim Deuk-pal exercised, there were aspects of Song Yi-heon’s physical weakness he couldn’t overcome. In his days as Kim Deuk-pal, he had never felt this cold, so he didn’t realize his body was gradually freezing from prolonged exposure to the cold night air.
When Choi Se-kyung’s hand casually pressed against Song Yi-heon’s cheek. Feeling the warmth from Choi Se-kyung’s hand, Kim Deuk-pal realized his body was indeed cold and couldn’t insist on soda anymore.
Choi Se-kyung got one drink and inserted another bill into the machine. The bill must have been crumpled as the machine spit it back out. Choi Se-kyung smoothed the bill against the machine. His broad back moved rhythmically with his actions, matching his broad shoulders.
If he could choose the body he entered, Kim Deuk-pal would have preferred a well-proportioned body like Choi Se-kyung’s rather than the scrawny Song Yi-heon. While bulking up could increase size, proportions and muscle quality were innate. Choi Se-kyung was blessed with a good body. Having been obsessed with bodybuilding during his gangster days, Kim Deuk-pal was intrigued.
“What kind of exercise do you do?”
“Sometimes tennis or swimming on weekends, or cycling when I have time.”
“No martial arts?”
Thinking Choi Se-kyung’s well-balanced physique would be good for judo, Kim Deuk-pal pressed on.
“Ever been scouted for judo?”
“I have. But my father was against it.”
Choi Se-kyung came back with two cans of drinks and tossed over a chocolate milk. Kim Deuk-pal caught it lightly, embracing the warmth in his hand before opening the can. Though not as good as soda, the sweet chocolate taste soothed his mouth, still tingling from the spicy tteokbokki.
“Why did your father object?”
“He’s the type who says not to hurt others.”
“Your father sounds admirable. But why are you like this then?”
Choi Se-kyung just raised his eyebrows in annoyance as he drank. Kim Deuk-pal giggled and finished his hot chocolate. With Song Yi-heon’s appearance, he looked more like a mischievous boy than sly. Choi Se-kyung stared at the innocent laugh for a while before speaking.
“What about you?”
This time, Kim Deuk-pal raised his eyebrows with his cheeks full of chocolate milk. It meant to ask the question properly.
“What kind of person is your father?”
Not knowing which father to talk about, Kim Deuk-pal held the drink in his mouth for a moment. Kim Deuk-pal’s father believed the eldest son should succeed to raise the family fortunes, so he was the one who prevented Kim Deuk-pal from going to school, telling him to earn money for his older brother’s tuition.
Wondering why hurtful memories remained so vivid while other old memories faded, Kim Deuk-pal swallowed a bitter smile. Not wanting to share his inner thoughts, he made up a story about Song Yi-heon’s family situation.
“He’s a construction company chairman with two families.”
“Ah.”
Choi Se-kyung let out a short groan and shifted his position. Kim Deuk-pal added more to make Se-kyung comfortable.
“You might recognize his face. He often appears on the news in a wheelchair.”
To be honest, Kim Deuk-pal was also surprised to learn who Song Yi-heon’s birth father was. Whenever the housekeeper Lee Mi-kyung mentioned the chairman, she was so flustered that Kim Deuk-pal got curious and asked the housekeeper from Seosan why the chairman wasn’t coming these days. He never expected to hear about the chairman of one of Korea’s leading construction companies.
Indeed, one apartment wasn’t enough. Maybe he should ask for a whole building. As he pondered how to make life comfortable for Song Yi-heon’s soul when it returned, his thoughts extended to Song Min-seo. If Song Min-seo couldn’t overcome her alcoholism, Song Yi-heon wouldn’t be able to handle it. Kim Deuk-pal called out to Choi Se-kyung.
“Hey, in the future-“
Choi Se-kyung had seen Song Min-seo and roughly knew about the family situation. Kim Deuk-pal was about to ask him to help Song Yi-heon live well when his soul returned, but he quickly changed his mind. Although Choi Se-kyung seemed to care about Song Yi-heon, asking him to look after Song Min-seo too would be an excessive burden when they weren’t even close.
“Never mind. Forget it.”
“What is it?”
Choi Se-kyung pressed on as the already mysterious Kim Deuk-pal started to speak but stopped. Free from the pressure of having to find Song Yi-heon, Choi Se-kyung’s curiosity was piqued about the person in front of him pretending to be Song Yi-heon.
“Just that you’re handsome.”
Kim Deuk-pal tried to change the subject with an insincere compliment. It was as half-hearted as his motion of tossing the empty can into the trash. But Choi Se-kyung’s already aroused curiosity only grew.
“…Why are you pretending to be Song Yi-heon?”
“Because I want to go to school.”
Surprisingly, he opened up easily when Choi Se-kyung thought he wouldn’t tell. Kim Deuk-pal answered as he lounged comfortably like a satisfied cat, not looking like he was lying.
Maybe he’s just happy from being full. Choi Se-kyung asked skeptically.
“Where is Song Yi-heon now?”
“I’d like to know too.”
“What will you do when Song Yi-heon returns?”
“I’ll rest.”
“…Where?”
“Well, somewhere nice.”
Kim Deuk-pal started to point at the sky, but feeling it wasn’t right to reveal that much, he just twirled his extended index finger.
Choi Se-kyung felt a sinking feeling. In any case, when the original Song Yi-heon returned, this person wouldn’t be here anymore. It was obvious, but not particularly satisfying. Although they had only known each other for a few months and weren’t close, the idea that he could disappear overnight didn’t sit well with Se-kyung.
Wondering if the place he meant to rest was where he was pointing, Choi Se-kyung turned his head to follow the direction of the fake Song Yi-heon’s finger.
The vast nightscape of the city spread out like a brilliant, boundless sea.
The night of glittering lights deepened.
As the sedan entered the garage and the engine turned off, Choi Se-kyung checked the time on his phone. 11:15 PM. Since he started going to the study hall, Choi Myung-hyun had set an 11 PM curfew, and it was always this time when he arrived home in the car sent to pick him up.
The young man in the driver’s seat looked back at the rear seat. The driver, who had changed starting the night Choi Se-kyung came home after fighting with Kim Deuk-pal, was a young, fit man from a private security company. Someone who could easily subdue someone like Choi Se-kyung if an unexpected incident occurred.
“You must be tired, studying until such a late hour, Se-kyung.”
“Thank you for your work this late.”
Choi Se-kyung gave an appropriate response to the friendly driver.
The driver’s role was to pick up Se-kyung at 11 PM, but he didn’t ask awkward questions like why Se-kyung was eating cup noodles at the convenience store he saw around 8 PM while out buying snacks, or why he ate dinner at the same convenience store every evening.
Instead of advising him to monitor properly and inconspicuously as per his father’s orders, Se-kyung offered a gentle greeting.
“Take care going in.”
Se-kyung went up to the living room through the garage stairs. Even Choi Myung-hyun, who usually waited for his son’s return, wasn’t in the living room where only indirect lighting was on. Se-kyung looked around the empty living room, wondering what was going on. As he was about to go upstairs, he stopped in his tracks when he heard raised voices.
Se-kyung stared at the corridor where the voices were coming from, then took off his indoor shoes. His feet slid quietly across the smooth marble floor. The voices were leaking through the slightly open bedroom door.
“…for the past… mistake… stop it already!”
Se-kyung looked down at the strip of light drawn on the dark corridor floor. It was a scene as unmoving as his mother’s angry voice.
“How long are you going to keep this up? It’s because of you that the child is going astray even more!”
Se-kyung’s mother occasionally couldn’t bear Choi Myung-hyun’s pressure on Se-kyung. She knew Myung-hyun was upright and honest when she married him. She even participated in what she saw as discipline when Myung-hyun demanded his son to be righteous, but she became disgusted when it crossed the line into obsession.
“Look at how he came home beaten this time! Why would Se-kyung just take a beating? He must have only taken it because he was afraid we would suspect something!”
The cheek of her son, who came home beaten late one night a few weeks ago, had healed without a scar. But the absence of a scar didn’t erase the fact that her sturdy son had been beaten without even properly defending himself.
No matter how much they pressed or coaxed, Choi Se-kyung’s statement ended with getting into a fight with some thugs. He said he went out for a walk because he felt stuffy, got into an argument with some thugs he met on the way, fought with them, and they ran away. It was too dark to see their faces.
Choi Se-kyung explained what happened that night in front of his parents. Even though his left cheek was about to swell up, he was calm as if it were someone else’s business. He even smiled slightly, saying it was fortunate no one was hurt. He didn’t seem to expect them to worry about his own injury.
“We’ve been pushing Se-kyung too hard. We shouldn’t have. Se-kyung doesn’t rely on us at all anymore.”
Their child faced a difficult situation but didn’t lean on his parents. This point devastated her.
A calm baritone voice was heard.
“Don’t think like that. You know this is for the best. You know what kind of child Se-kyung is.”
“He was only six years old then! At an age when his sense of self wasn’t even formed! Se-kyung is nineteen now. He doesn’t push people like he did at six.”
Seeming to recall what six-year-old Choi Se-kyung had done, Se-kyung’s mother’s voice trembled.
“That was in the past. It’s been over ten years. I know our Se-kyung did wrong. I know he’s different from normal people, but he’s nineteen now. Nothing has happened since then. Se-kyung’s dad, let’s please stop this…”
Her trembling voice turned into sobs. Choi Myung-hyun must have embraced her, as the crying sound became muffled as if covered by a blanket. The buried sound of crying continued instead of arguments.
With nothing more to hear, Se-kyung turned away.
Ah, how annoying.
Se-kyung pulled at his tie with his fingers. But the suffocating feeling didn’t go away. He felt breathless.
How much longer did he have to endure? He had suppressed himself and lived obediently for over ten years, but they couldn’t get over one night out, arguing, crying, regretting the past, clinging, regretting…
It was noisy. Choi Se-kyung pressed his throbbing temples.
That incident from when he was six years old still choked him to this day.
Unlike March when he had to be on high alert just to keep up with the class, Kim Deuk-pal now had the leisure to let his mind wander during class. With 10 minutes left before class ended, meaning 10 minutes until lunch, Kim Deuk-pal sat upright to keep up appearances, but the kids ready to dash out as soon as the bell rang were fidgeting with their feet stuck out from under their desks.
The elderly Korean history teacher finished writing on the board. He said a few words to the colts ready to dash out even though class wasn’t over, then ended the lesson.
“Boys, don’t run. You’ll get hurt. That’s all for today’s lesson. Class president, lead the closing.”
However, Choi Se-kyung didn’t stand up. Sitting by the window, he was staring blankly outside with his chin resting on his hand.
“Class president.”
“…”
When he continued staring out the window even after being called again, his desk mate elbowed Choi Se-kyung. Only then did Se-kyung come to his senses and hurriedly stand up, but the history teacher waved his hand.
“Never mind. Choi Se-kyung, where have you been losing your mind lately, are you still wandering around at night? As a student, you barely have enough time to study as it is. Tsk.”
He was referring to the night a few weeks ago when Se-kyung was beaten up by Kim Deuk-pal. Perhaps because Se-kyung rarely gave them reason to scold him, some teachers would bring up the incident from a few weeks ago to reprimand him.
While some students’ expressions darkened, feeling it was nitpicking to scold him over a past incident, Choi Se-kyung himself just smiled faintly.