There was no choice. The variety show filming was until next summer vacation. Somehow I need to keep a low profile until before vacation, Sangho vowed again.
Sangho, who’d been crouching in the darkness for a moment, dusted off his pants and stood up. He didn’t know why Jang Wonha was showing interest in him, but if he just didn’t run into him, that would be enough. Sangho, who fumbled in his pockets and pulled out the business card, crumpled it and threw it into the hallway trash can.
Sangho, who was heading to the stairs to go up to the 4th floor athletic storage, stopped at an unexpectedly noisy presence. Bright light was leaking from the 1st floor, which should have been dark, and some kind of busy shouting could be heard. Sneaking a look at his phone clock, it was just past 9 PM. Normally there should be no one at this time, but something was strange.
Then a man wearing a shabby cap came out from the auditorium side carrying a ladder, discovered Sangho, and shouted.
“Hey. You can’t come in here if you’re not staff.”
The vest the man wore had ‘Staff’ written on it.
Only then did Sangho realize why Jang Wonha had suddenly appeared at the Korea University smoking area. Filming must be scheduled starting tomorrow. It seemed the broadcasting station was setting up equipment needed for filming in advance.
The staff member was glaring at Sangho with a suspicious expression. He seemed to be guessing that a sasaeng fan had entered the filming site. Sangho muttered like an excuse with somewhat deflated spirit.
“Um… no. I’m an employee here.”
“Employee? Are you from the Academic Affairs office?”
The staff member still scanned Sangho up and down with a frowning expression. Sangho felt a strange sense of shame. No, I’m a janitor. For some reason, those words wouldn’t come out. The man looked like a young man only three or four years older than Sangho. That person found his place and is working at a broadcasting station, while I’m just a janitor hiding in the athletic storage because I’m too cheap to spend money on a dawn taxi. As that thought occurred to him, he felt his face heat up slightly.
When Sangho was silent, the staff member approached with an even more suspicious expression, leaving the ladder where it was.
“What kind of employee? Huh?”
“Sanitation. I left something for a moment.”
At the man approaching threateningly, Sangho inadvertently pulled out the access card from his pocket and showed it. Environmental Sanitation Department Lee Sangho. It was a card with an ID photo showing him stiffly frozen with an awkward expression, wearing an ill-fitting suit. He looked like a fool who came up from the countryside.
The man, who briefly examined the access card as if snatching it, looked Sangho up and down with an extremely annoyed expression and snickered. With that one laugh, Sangho felt like he was rolling in the mud.
“I heard cleaning is done in the morning? The filming team needs to work here, so get out. Quickly.”
“…”
Sangho, who inadvertently bowed and came out of the gymnasium, walked with a dazed face as if fleeing all the way to Korea University’s main gate. It seemed like that man’s sneering sound kept repeating in his head from earlier.
If you thought about it, he was a Korea University employee, and that man was a guest who came to film after getting the school’s permission. Nevertheless, he was like a fool who couldn’t make any rebuttal as if the roles were reversed, and was chased out, intimidated by the man’s tone and expression.
“Fucking bastard. That bastard is definitely not even a regular employee. A life loser bastard rolling around broadcasting stations.”
Belated anger and curses poured out. All the curses and insulting expressions he could muster poured from his mouth.
After pouring out curses like that for a while, Sangho was soon engulfed in anger and disgust toward himself.
Lee Sangho, you idiot bastard. You low-intelligence bastard, you can’t even refute that one thing. Idiot bastard, that’s why you can only be a janitor. What the hell can you do properly? Why did you even bow there?
Sangho hated himself to death for not being able to say a single word back to the man’s rude attitude and even bowing before leaving. All kinds of negative thoughts came tumbling out one after another.
When he finally reached the downtown area some distance from Korea University, Sangho realized he was crying.
“…”
Idiot. What changes by crying? Sangho, who stopped in that spot, quickly wiped away his tears. He felt embarrassed because it seemed like people occasionally passing on the street were looking at him. Turning on his phone again, the time was past 11 o’clock. It was an ambiguous time to go home or to sit tight and endure in the downtown area.
Sangho roughly went up the stairs of some shabby building and crouched down. Sangho, burying his face in his knees, sighed deeply several times. Sighing was better than shedding tears. He planned to endure like this until dawn work time came.
“Excuse me?”
“Ah… I’m sorry. I was tired… I’ll leave right away.”
When someone’s voice was heard from above the stairs where he was crouching, Sangho jumped up in surprise. Sangho, who tried to quickly leave before getting scolded again, heard someone hurriedly coming down the stairs and tried to go outside quickly.
“No, no, no! Sangho-nim! C-come in!”
When Sangho showed signs of leaving, the man rushed down the stairs with an urgent voice. Surprised at hearing his name called, when he looked up, a man wearing a gray hoodie and sleep pants came out barefoot in a hurry. It was Jang Wonha.
I opened an art studio near Korea University.
Sangho recalled what Wonha had said earlier and stood awkwardly with a flustered face. He’d crumpled and thrown away the card without even looking at it, not knowing the art studio was in such a shabby building. Wonha, completely unaware of Sangho’s feelings, grabbed his hand with a very welcoming face. Warm heat spread from the suddenly grabbed hand.
“You came! Honestly, I thought you wouldn’t come, so I was disappointed. I ordered chicken feet and there’s so much. Look around the studio and eat together!”
“What? No, it’s okay…”
“There’s so much. I don’t think I can eat it all alone. But there are lots of good restaurants around here, you know?”
Perhaps thinking Sangho had come to visit his art studio, Wonha pulled his hand with a quite excited face. Wonha, who came close, had a much bigger build than himself, but the grip pulling him didn’t feel forceful. Rather, should it be described as an enthusiastic welcome?
When Sangho, who felt somewhat awkward, lowered his gaze, Wonha’s bare toes, slightly curled on the cold floor, came into view. It was also true that if he rejected Wonha’s invitation and left like this, he had no idea where to spend the night.
“Do you not like chicken feet? If you’re not busy, just eat a little and go.”
“Ah… um… no, it’s not that I don’t like it…”
“I’m telling you there’s so much!”
Now Wonha rushed down below the stairs where Sangho stood with sparkling eyes and firmly pushed his body upward. As if convinced from Sangho’s ambiguous tone that it wasn’t a refusal, Wonha made a fuss like an even more excited puppy.
Eventually, when Sangho moved his steps up the stairs as if he had no choice, pleasant laughter reached his ears from behind. Sangho suddenly thought this was the first time someone had welcomed him this much. People always showed him reluctant faces or wanted to keep an ambiguous distance with awkward tones. At the warm, fuzzy feeling he was experiencing for the first time in his life, Sangho became quite shy.
The top of the stairs, unlike the shabby building exterior, was neatly and cozily decorated. Opening the door and entering, warm energy spread immediately, and on one side of the dining table, chicken feet that seemed to have just been delivered were placed with packaging half-torn. On the opposite side were a few paintings that Wonha seemed to have drawn. It seemed he’d rented an entire floor, as there appeared to be a bathroom and two more rooms.
“It’s cold outside, right? Sit here.”
Wonha offered a seat on the soft-looking sofa and quickly opened the chicken feet packaging. When the spicy smell of fire-roasted chicken feet brushed his nose, the hunger he’d forgotten seemed to come back. Wonha, who quickly put on plastic gloves and even made rice balls, started rambling about trivial things with a grinning face.
“This is a studio I set up secretly from my agency. After hearing what you said last time, I thought I should express something, so I decided to try drawing first.”
“Yes…”
“Hurry and eat. But can you handle spicy food well? This place is super spicy. Even though I ordered level 1, it was too spicy for me to eat.”
“It’s not that spicy though…”
“Ah, what. Are you showing off your spice tolerance?”
Sangho felt a strange comfort at Wonha’s somewhat chatty appearance and chuckled. The wariness seemed to ease a bit at the sight of Wonha diligently putting chicken feet in his mouth as if he couldn’t see himself sitting in front of him.
Sangho blinked for a moment, then picked up the chopsticks placed in front and put chicken feet in his mouth. Moderately spicy and stickily clinging taste—it really was a good restaurant. For Sangho, who only ever ate cheap chicken feet with a strong artificial liquid smoke scent from convenience stores, it was quite a shocking taste.
“This place is really delicious.”
“Right? Hehe.”
At Sangho’s words, Wonha grinned with a proud expression. Before long, Wonha started going on about good restaurants near Korea University. Sangho felt the awkward atmosphere from earlier smoothly dissolving, and he leaned back slightly on the sofa with a quite comfortable feeling. Then Wonha brought a bottle of soju from somewhere.
“I was going to open it alone. Should we have just one glass?”
“Oh. Soju.”
Sangho, whose guard was now completely down, answered with a rarely welcoming voice.
After downing two or three glasses of soju with Wonha, Sangho’s face flushed pleasantly red. He wasn’t good at drinking, but as a pleasant buzz came on, he seemed to become talkative too.
