Exactly ten shots had made their way down Jiwon’s throat. The delivered fried chicken was still warm and crispy, but Jiwon hadn’t touched it. Thanks to that, Son Jaemin, who had polished off both drumsticks, crunched a piece of pickled radish.
“Hey. I just told you I’m suddenly getting married and you can still eat? Me. Getting married. Married.”
Jaemin’s first shock had been when someone he’d assumed was in another country showed up at his studio apartment late at night out of nowhere. His second shock came when Jiwon, who had cracked open a bottle of soju and been knocking them back one after another from the moment he’d burst in, announced he was getting married soon.
“What, since when were you dating someone. Did you meet them while you were abroad? Is it a foreigner?”
“Dating, what dating. Today was only the second time I’ve met them.”
“Huh? But you said you’re getting married?”
“That’s the thing, I’ve agreed to marry someone named Han Ganghyeon, but it’s not — it’s not like a normal thing. My dad—”
“What about your dad?”
“His business was going under. And that person’s family stepped in to help. But, hey. I’m the eldest son. And our Chaewon needs to get married too. She’s gone and gotten herself into trouble — four months pregnant.”
“What is all this even.”
A few glasses of soju was enough to get Jiwon tipsy, and he’d been repeating some incomprehensible string of out-of-order sentences for a while now. No matter what Jaemin asked at this point, Jiwon was in no condition to give a coherent answer. Getting him any more riled up would just be noisy. In that case — why not pour him a few more and put him to sleep.
Having made up his mind to send Jiwon off to sleep, Jaemin drained his own glass and filled both empty glasses to the brim. In front of Jiwon, who was rambling incoherently about Han Ganghyeon this and Han Ganghyeon that, Jaemin held up a brimming glass of soju.
“Got it, so just drink first.”
“I’m serious, hey. Does it make any sense for a person to get married like this? Does it?”
“No. Doesn’t make sense at all. It doesn’t. Drink up. Cheers—”
Urged on by Jaemin, the seventh glass slid down Jiwon’s throat. With soju burning a path through an empty stomach and warming him from the inside, Jiwon sat curled up and pulled a gloomy face.
“Jaemin. Have you ever signed a contract?”
“Signed one when I got my place.”
“Not that kind. I didn’t even know something like that existed. It’s….”
Even through the haze of alcohol, the contract clause about keeping its contents from being disclosed to outside parties floated up in his mind. It had stated that if anything were leaked externally, the party who disclosed it would bear full responsibility for all resulting consequences. It wasn’t something he could even tell his family.
“What?”
“There’s just — something like that. Hey, but what’s going on with your face? Did something really bad happen to your face while I was abroad?”
“You absolute lunatic. Shut up.”
Trailing off, Jiwon made a jab at his old friend’s appearance and smiled weakly. When the pillow Jaemin threw hit him square on the head, the alcohol that had been building steadily surged up like a geyser. His stomach lurched and his head went hazy. Jiwon grabbed the pillow, hugging it to him, and fumbled his way down onto the bare floor. With eyes half-shut, he murmured as if talking to himself.
“Jaemin. I’ve never even had a proper relationship. You know that, right. And yet here I am getting married. Hey. But listen. Earlier, that person just — told me to hurry up and get used to him, and said that’s his pheromone so remember it….”
His mind, well past its limit, began flickering out rapidly. Long lashes fluttered as his eyelids blinked slowly. Through the darkening field of vision, Ganghyeon’s face drifted up faintly — the way he had looked down at Jiwon while supporting him. It was as though he could hear that low, quiet voice speaking close to his ear.
“What am I going to do. I must be out of my mind.”
In his head, where every kind of thought and the effects of alcohol were tangled together without rhyme or reason, Han Ganghyeon commanded an unmistakable presence all his own. It felt as though he could feel the trembling of that moment all over again, and Jiwon let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.
The wedding was set for two months later. Days slipped by in a blur before he knew it. The wedding date was barreling toward him like a runaway train.
Wedding preparations were led and handled entirely by Han Ganghyeon’s family. The home they would share as newlyweds, the furniture, vendor selection for the ceremony, all the miscellaneous tasks to be done — all of it was decided by his household and communicated as a done deal. The most Jiwon could do was adjust a date or time here and there.
In the midst of growing anxious precisely because there was nothing particular for him to do even as the wedding approached, his soon-to-be spouse was near impossible to see. The thought crossed his mind that at this rate, they might actually end up meeting each other at the altar as awkward strangers. Jiwon decided this wouldn’t do. Even if they were getting married, shouldn’t they at least be familiar enough with each other to lean on one another? Even if it was a fake marriage carried out under a written contract.
As it happened, today was a day he could see Han Ganghyeon. They had agreed to go together to be fitted for their wedding attire. The bitter memory of the day they’d gone to be fitted for the wedding rings came back to him freshly. Han Ganghyeon, who had shown up late, had picked from the items the vendor’s manager had pre-selected with the casual ease of someone choosing a drink at a convenience store. Then he’d apologized for his busy schedule and left first.
The vendor’s manager had watched Jiwon with sympathetic eyes as he sat alone, selecting these wedding rings he didn’t even properly know about. He didn’t want to go through the same thing today. Jiwon picked up his phone and moved his thumb toward the contact saved as Han Ganghyeon.
“It’s just a phone call, what’s the big deal.”
Despite those words, his thumb hovered and hesitated over Ganghyeon’s name for a considerable length of time.
Ganghyeon, resting his chin in his hand as he stared at his monitor, clicked on a newly arrived email. It was a reply from Attorney Lee, a senior colleague he had asked to handle the marriage contract. The body of the email stated that Jiwon’s requested revisions had been incorporated, and Ganghyeon immediately opened the attached file. Nothing else had been significantly changed — a few items had been added to the section on maintaining an amicable marriage.
Even those weren’t anything particularly notable. Things like making an effort with each other’s families, or consulting each other on major decisions — clauses that could just as well be there or not.
Ganghyeon printed out the attachment and looked it over again. The provisions regarding the establishment of the marriage and divorce showed no noticeable changes. His expectation that there would be pushback on the divorce conditions or alimony had been cleanly proven wrong. He didn’t understand why the things Jiwon had requested mattered, but there was nothing there he found difficult to accept.
He estimated two years at most. By then, Jeong Jiwon — currently fumbling around knowing nothing — would have come to understand the nature of this marriage, and the family elders, finding it strange that no child had been born between two perfectly healthy people, would begin to pressure them. The sooner Jiwon gave up, the simpler things would be. Once the divorce was settled amicably without litigation, this marriage would be over.
“I’ve confirmed the email. Please check with Jeong Jiwon’s side once more whether there’s anything else they’d like to change, then let’s finalize it as is. No. The divorce-related provisions haven’t been altered so I have no issue with it. Just make sure their requests are incorporated as much as possible. Yes. I’ll buy you a drink once the contract is done.”
After ending the call, Ganghyeon picked up the booklet Secretary Seong had left on his desk. It was a vehicle catalog from Company B. He was flipping through it absently when his phone rang. Ganghyeon checked the name on the screen, rose from his seat, and walked toward the window. It was the first time Jeong Jiwon had called him first.
“Hello.”
— It’s Jeong Jiwon.
“Yes. Jiwon.”
— You haven’t forgotten about our appointment today, have you? To be fitted for the wedding attire?
“No.”
— Are you very busy today as well? I was thinking we could get a meal after the fitting — would you happen to have time?
“Is there something you need to discuss?”
— No. It’s not strange for two people who are getting married to share a meal, is it.
Ganghyeon glanced over the planner on his desk and confirmed that the afternoon’s schedule consisted only of things that could be pushed. A simple meal — the kind he shared often with passing acquaintances and work-related contacts alike — was no reason he couldn’t share it with Jiwon.
“Then let’s plan on eating together later.”
Ganghyeon closed the catalog he’d been looking at and set it aside. The car Jiwon would be driving from now on — it would be better for him to choose it himself. He changed his plan of picking something suitable and placing the order right away, and pressed the key phone to call his secretary. The afternoon schedule needed adjusting.
He had attended VIP preview screenings occasionally, but actually buying a ticket, getting popcorn, and coming to a theater himself — that was something Ganghyeon hadn’t done in a very long time. The film wasn’t particularly interesting and he felt like he was wasting time. Ganghyeon loosened his tie knot and occasionally popped a piece of the salted popcorn Jiwon had bought into his mouth.
Romantic comedies must have been his taste, because Jiwon couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. The expression lit by the screen’s glow shifted along with whatever was happening in the film. When the main character was happy, Jeong Jiwon was happy. When the main character was sad, Jeong Jiwon was sad.
Is this film really that immersive a story? It looked like tears were welling in Jiwon’s eyes as he chewed on caramel popcorn. Ha. He’s going to cry over something like this? While Ganghyeon was debating whether to acknowledge it or pretend not to notice, the sound of sniffling kept getting louder. Ganghyeon took out his handkerchief and held it out to Jiwon without a word. Jiwon’s voice was thick and stuffy as he took it and murmured his thanks.
After the film ended, Ganghyeon took the elevator down to the parking garage to avoid the crowd and got into the car parked in a corner spot. Jiwon, settled in the seat beside him, had the skin around his eyes and the tip of his nose flushed a deep pink. Ganghyeon started the car, turned on the air conditioning, and asked —
