“I don’t think he’s going to come over here, right?”
Kim Juhee whispered, and the heads huddled around her nodded.
“I heard he doesn’t like drinking gatherings — I guess it’s true. He hasn’t even glanced over this way.”
“He spent a lot at the ritual earlier — shouldn’t he at least eat plenty here so it feels less like a loss?”
“Hey. I heard Seon Eunhu’s church started an expansion project last winter. The amount he put in today is probably something he wouldn’t even bother picking up off the street.”
“Really? God, I’m so jealous of people born into money. His dad’s a pastor, right? What about his mom?”
“Probably does something similar. Oh wait — no! I heard Seon Eunhu’s parents have been living separately for a while now. Apparently things between them are really messy right now.”
“Is that so? But how do you know so much about someone else’s family life? Even if you like Seon Eunhu that much. You’re kind of scary.”
“What are you talking about. Seon Eunhu’s church is really big and well-known in my neighborhood — the rumors were everywhere for a while. Apparently they couldn’t reach an agreement on the divorce and it went all the way to court and everything….”
The classmate who had been whispering to avoid being overheard by other tables finally noticed me and cut herself off mid-sentence. It seemed she at least knew that what she’d been saying wasn’t the kind of thing to go spreading around.
Dismay crossed the faces now looking at me. Even Kim Juhee — usually quick-witted enough to hold her own in any conversation — went quiet and watched my expression carefully. I could see plainly what they were worried about.
But I wasn’t the type of person to lecture them about not spreading unflattering rumors, and I had no right to either. Was there anyone in the world who had never once talked behind someone’s back?
It’s not that gossiping is something to be encouraged — but apparently sometimes this kind of shared understanding is what creates a sense of closeness within a group. Sociology even teaches that gossip has its functional benefits.
If the experts say so, I had no intention of adding my opinion. There was something else I wanted to ask instead.
“Do you all actually like Seon Eunhu?”
I could tell they were interested in him — but I was curious whether it was genuine.
Did my question catch them off guard? They exchanged glances with blank expressions.
“Is there anyone who doesn’t like Seon Eunhu? Even girls who have boyfriends like him.”
“That’s me.”
One of the classmates sitting there shot her hand up and declared it cheerfully, which set off a round of laughter. I could feel the students at the neighboring tables looking over with curiosity.
The pleasant mood returned to the table. Everyone seemed to relax, sensing that I was going to let what had just been said slide. Cups were gathered, drinks were poured into each other’s empty glasses, and the moment they were full, everyone tipped them back.
“But why? Are you jealous that someone better-looking than you has returned to our department? Wishing it was still last year?”
“Please.”
I responded with a slight frown. Just because I don’t talk much doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I wasn’t the kind of person to feel something that pathetic over a face, assigned at birth by sheer chance.
“Then what? Are you saying that if we admit we like Seon Eunhu, you’ll introduce us to him or something?”
I shook my head at Kim Juhee’s follow-up question. Then I spooned some pajeon and spicy stir-fried pork onto my small plate.
“It’s not that—.”
My stomach was nearly full anyway — I was planning to eat just this one last plate and then get up. So I kept my eyes on the food, finally picked up a slice of bossam, and finished my thought.
“Listening to the conversation, it sounds like you like him — but then you were talking so enthusiastically about his unfortunate family situation, and that made me genuinely wonder whether it was really like that.”
I could imagine the expressions they were making even without looking, but that was fine. The most important thing to me in that moment was pushing the food to the edge of the plate so I could get it all in one bite.
“I have to head to work now. I’ll get going. Keep talking.”
After saying goodbye and successfully getting all the food into my mouth at once, I got up without hesitation. Chipmunk cheeks and all — I was just satisfied that I’d gotten my money’s worth after what I’d sacrificed to the pig’s head.
“What are you thinking about, Taerim?”
I was languidly wiping down the coffee machine, letting my hands go wherever they reached, when the manager came over and asked.
Since I hadn’t been thinking about anything I could really share with someone else, I slowly shook my head.
“Nothing in particular. Should I go mop the floor since there are no customers right now?”
“No no. I’m not trying to put you to work — I just wanted to chat while it’s slow. You’ve been spacing out at the drop of a hat since earlier. Is something going on?”
“Me? Did I?… Nothing’s going on.”
“Nothing, my foot. Be honest with me. It’s because of that returning student you mentioned, isn’t it? That upperclassman who was giving you a hard time.”
I stared at the man for a moment.
Tall but slim enough to look slight, he had an unusual brightness in his eyes today. He clearly expected me to throw him some interesting material — he spent all day working in this café, after all.
There had been exactly one time I’d mentioned Seon Eunhu to the café manager. He’d been lamenting for days on end that life wasn’t going the way he’d planned, and when he expressed a desire to hear about my miserable situation too, I’d given him a rough summary. I could have told him about my unfortunate childhood and his eyes would have lit up even more — but I didn’t want to do that. It just so happened to be the day Seon Eunhu had warned me not to look at him, so I’d gone with that story instead.
The manager had responded by dropping everything and launching into a tirade on my behalf about what an absolute piece of work that person was. Today he was doing things like commenting that my steam-frothing had been off, or that the spark in my eyes had disappeared — nudging the conversation along, trying to get me to say more. But I hadn’t told him about Seon Eunhu’s perverse remark.
Anyway, the manager seemed to want me to still be suffering over that issue. So I just gave him a nod. To be honest, it wasn’t so much that I’d been thinking about Seon Eunhu — more that I’d been turning over the family situation I’d happened to overhear. But that was connected enough.
As long as it didn’t cost me anything, I didn’t mind being misread if it brought someone else a bit of enjoyment.
“Well… it wasn’t like I wasn’t thinking about it at all.”
“See. Right? If someone tells you they dislike you, is that something you can just easily forget? What was it he said — that your face rubbed him the wrong way so you shouldn’t look at him? Honestly. If he thinks you’re good-looking, he should just say so honestly — the way I see it, that guy definitely got smacked around in the military and is taking it out on his juniors for no reason. That’s the only explanation. So don’t you dare take anything that jerk says to heart!”
“He didn’t say my face rubbed him the wrong way though…”
“You know why he’s acting like that toward you? Because you’ve got that clean, pretty-boy face that girls go crazy for. He’s seething with jealousy. I bet his face looks like it got punched in too. Anyway, if that guy ever comes into this store, just quietly tip me off. I’ll chase him out with a mop myself. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Honestly, a kid this good-natured, working this hard, and that piece of work has the nerve to….”
Another stream of curses poured out, and I gave him an awkward smile and took a cloth out to the floor. It was kind of him to be angry on my behalf — but I had no desire to go along for the ride and burn through emotions I didn’t need to burn through.
I’d started working at the café last winter, when I moved into this building. It had worked out well that the shop on the first floor of the officetel happened to be looking for part-time help right then. The manager did occasionally pry into my personal life like this, but not to an uncomfortable degree, so the job had been going smoothly enough.
I was giving one more wipe-down to a table I’d already cleaned, when I caught sight of the large glass window along the front of the store. My reflection in the glass was clearer than the dark outside. The scene — as if I were trapped in the darkness — felt like it was showing me exactly as I was.
Even in the middle of living my university life at full intensity, I would sometimes suddenly become aware of how pointless all of it was. The harder I threw myself into things, the more deeply that feeling hit. Even the enormous sun hanging in the sky will cease to exist when its lifespan runs out — so what could possibly change by achieving these trivial little goals?
The reflection of me in the glass seemed to be reminding me: you don’t need to fight with everything you have just to keep this life going. If it stops working out, you can die and be reborn as something else.
Every living thing knows it can only fulfill the purpose of its life by dying. Because only by dying and becoming nutrients can nature flourish.
There were many reasons to die — but what I feared was the brief flash of pain before it. Pain that would disappear the moment death came anyway — and the fact that I was afraid of something so trivial made me feel like the most pathetic person in the world.
I swept the floor with my eyes to check if anything was left unattended, then started making my way back to the pickup counter.
The sound of the café door opening reached me.
“Welcome—”
“Oh?”
“…….”
I stopped mid-greeting at the sight of the customer who had appeared in front of me. Strolling casually into the store was Seon Eunhu — the same person I’d seen at the department building just a few hours ago.
“Go Taeling? You work here?”
