LM 80

“The CEO…was being obvious?”

Kwon Siyul hadn’t realized this. Whenever they met up, it was usually at a convenience store quite far from the bar, and even when Woo Hyunse came to the bar, he talked more with others than with Kwon Siyul. Kwon Siyul had put a stop to any secret hand-holding or subtle touches. Fearing others might notice, he had even strongly refused Woo Hyunse’s offers to pick him up while they were living together.

“Yeah. He only looked at you. From the moment he entered the bar, he never took his eyes off you.”

Was that so? Kwon Siyul had been so careful about making eye contact that he had no idea Woo Hyunse had been watching him. His ears grew hot. His chest also twinged simultaneously, aching as if being pressed by something blunt.

“I was a bit jealous.”

“Of me?”

“He never looked at me like that.”

The manager’s eyes grew distant, as if recalling the past. While curious about how exactly Woo Hyunse had looked at him, Kwon Siyul was reminded once again that the two of them had once been closer than this. A dull pain rose and fell in his chest.

“CEO Woo is really cold, you know.”

Kwon Siyul couldn’t agree with that. Woo Hyunse was warm. Too warm, in fact, that it was a problem. While his mind screamed that he should leave, there were countless times he had succumbed to that warmth and nestled in Woo Hyunse’s embrace.

“He maintains politeness, but that’s it. No matter how much I wanted, I couldn’t go beyond that. What I wanted to give and receive was love, but no matter how much I gave, nothing came back in return from him.”

One-sided emotions eventually tip to one side like a seesaw. What happened to feelings that flew into the air, becoming light from not being received? Didn’t they scatter like unharvested grains?

“I’m not talking about material things, but emotional ones.”

The manager pointed into the dark void with her cigarette hand, as if Woo Hyunse was right there. Kwon Siyul’s gaze followed the hand before returning to the manager.

“The kind of thing that distinguishes whether I’m inside or outside that person’s boundaries.”

Taking a final drag, the manager turned her body. She discarded the cigarette butt and laughed bitterly, saying she was talking nonsense. Wondering if there might still be lingering feelings, Kwon Siyul stared blankly, causing the manager to frown and guess his thoughts.

“Why? Do I look like I still have lingering feelings?”

“A little…?”

Hearing the honest answer, the manager grimaced in disgust and rubbed her own arm vigorously. She said that that wasn’t what lingering feelings meant, that all that remained between them was enough goodwill to sing at each other’s weddings, so Kwon Siyul shouldn’t have to worry about it. Finding her own words amusing, the manager soon chuckled and stroked Kwon Siyul’s pale cheek.

“No matter how I look at it, you’re much more precious. You’re warm, Siyul. Kind, diligent, and cute. Woo Hyunse goes around doing all sorts of bad things, but he’s lucky to have found you somewhere.”

It must have been empty words. If one were to compare the two of them, Kwon Siyul couldn’t even touch the tip of Woo Hyunse’s side. By a stroke of luck, he was by his side now, but even that wouldn’t last for much longer. It was like a candle burning out, showing its bottom.

When told to go back inside, Kwon Siyul ushered the manager in first. Somehow, she didn’t want to go in. Kwon Siyul stood there blankly before slowly sitting down.

Having forgotten his coat, the cold wind crept into the nape of his neck. Kwon Siyul hunched his neck like a turtle but didn’t go inside immediately. It was a familiar cold. He could endure it. Probably even if he left Woo Hyunse’s house, the situation wouldn’t be much different. A bearable chill, bearable loneliness. Bearable…longing.

“…What I wanted to give and receive was love…”

The manager’s voice, ruminating on past memories, felt distant like a static-filled radio. Had she given love, or received it? The more he pondered, the deeper he fell into a labyrinth. The weight of emotions suddenly washing over him felt heavy. Though invisible, it seemed to press down on  him, flattening him to the ground.

He barely touched the food and just drank heavily. Reluctant to part after the first round, he inevitably continued to the second. He knew the new bodyguard was lurking from not too far away, expressing dissatisfaction, but he pretended not to see. He wanted to stay out as long as possible.

The drinking party disbanded after the second round. He wanted to suggest a third round, but he couldn’t forcibly detain those who had to work the next day.

The manager, who was relatively sober among them, put each staff member in a taxi and sent them home. Yang Hye-na, weak from the alcohol, had already disappeared after declaring defeat in the first round. When the manager tried to send Kwon Siyul home too, he shook his head. He didn’t want to go back yet.

After reassuring the manager that he’d be fine and seeing her off, Kwon Siyul stopped by a park, ostensibly to sober up. Perhaps because he had far exceeded his drinking capacity, he collapsed sideways onto the bench as soon as he sat down.

The bodyguard, who had walked up to him at some point, informed him it was time to return, but Kwon Siyul insisted on resting a bit longer, causing trouble. He threatened with bulging eyes that if they took him now, it would be kidnapping, and he would scream at the top of his lungs. The bodyguard had no other choice but to step back, leaving Kwon Siyul alone.

Kwon Siyul stretched out fully on the bench, grinning as he celebrated his victory. He kept laughing uncontrollably. Like someone with a hole in their lungs, he made hissing sounds, but realizing there was no one around, he gradually reduced his laughter.

Soon, he curled up like a grub, curving his back. As he changed position, the hem of his padded jacket slipped under the bench and touched the ground. Fearing that partially melted snow and dirt might soil the clothes, he quickly flailed his hands to grasp the hem.

It was a dazzlingly white padded jacket. Precious, unlike the old bench or his drunken self. When Kwon Siyul shook his head, saying white gets dirty easily, Woo Hyunse had personally dressed him, saying he’d buy a new one every day if needed.

On the day Kwon Siyul had rolled around on the padded jacket instead of a blanket at the bar, Woo Hyunse had bought him a new one, as if to prove his point. How many coats had already taken up space in the corner of the closet like that?

Somehow, the bridge of his nose stung. Kwon Siyul sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

“…want to.”

I want to see him. Even while wandering outside not wanting to see him, drunken words are sober thoughts, they say, and his true feelings crawled out through his lips unbidden. As if punishing his mouth for speaking freely, he bit his lower lip painfully with his upper teeth.

It wouldn’t be so bad to freeze to death like this. Death used to be the scariest thing in the world, but lately, that ranking had changed. Kwon Siyul was more afraid of Woo Hyunse than of death. More precisely, he was terrified of Woo Hyunse coldly turning his back and ignoring him.

How is it that the more you like someone, the more your heart goes to them, the more terrifying they become, even more than ghosts or death?

He had only meant to close his eyes for a moment, but he fell asleep. Woo Hyunse appeared in his fragmented dream. Wearing the bright smile he had once shown Kwon Siyul, he reached out to someone. A beautiful woman in a pure white wedding dress smiled back and took his hand.

Kwon Siyul sat on a shabby chair far from the wedding venue, watching the ceremony adorned with fresh flowers. It was a beautiful wedding without a single flaw no matter how closely he looked. Everyone applauded and whistled, blessing the couple’s brilliant future.

Only the spot where Kwon Siyul sat was shadowed. He couldn’t close his eyes even though he wanted to, and couldn’t stand up even though he wanted to, his feet nailed to the floor. He remained stiff as if he were not a guest but a decoration thoughtlessly placed at the wedding.

He wanted to cry out for help, but though his mouth opened, no sound came out, and he could barely breathe. Though it was spring with flower petals fluttering, the wind that clawed at Kwon  Siyul’s skin was a harsh, cold northern wind.

No.

Please.

Please…

With a gasp, Kwon Siyul’s eyes flew open. His heart was pounding violently, and his black pupils were dilated like full moons. His vision swam, and he rolled his eyes, scanning his surroundings.

It was the park. He belatedly remembered lying down on the bench, saying he’d rest for just a moment.

The alcohol had warmed his body, making him oblivious to the cold. After curling up tightly, he sat up, sniffling as the biting wind invaded his clothes. The air that had been clear just moments ago was now filled with thick, swirling snowflakes. Snow had accumulated here and there on the cold ground, like scattered cotton balls.

He took out his phone from his pocket to check how long he had slept. But it was unresponsive even when tapped repeatedly. When he pressed the power button, only the low battery indicator flashed.

He looked around. The bodyguard who always stayed close was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, disgusted by Kwon Siyul’s drunken behavior before he fell asleep, he had given up and left. Kwon Siyul had wanted to borrow a phone from someone else if anyone was nearby, but whether due to the chilly weather or the late hour, the park with its line of streetlights was devoid of even an ant passing by.

Thinking he should stop by a convenience store, he was about to get up, placing his hand on the bench, when he heard footsteps approaching from the distance. He wiped his red nose with the back of his hand and turned his head in that direction. Through the falling snow, he could see a large figure and a long shadow cast by the dim streetlight, both familiar to his eyes.

Was he still not sober? He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The footsteps coming straight toward him showed no signs of hesitation. With each step closer, thick white snowflakes clung to shoulders that seemed to have never known the word ‘slouch.’ They also clung to the long, thick coat and hair as black as ink.