【02. The Proposal】
There were many moments when one remembers a person they thought they’d forgotten. It could be a specific date, a place, or an object. Even after forgetting completely, moments buried deep would suddenly surface vividly like a scene from a movie.
For Chaehun, what pulled Seunggeon from his memory was when the College Scholastic Ability Test date was mentioned on TV. Or when he saw hiking boots, he would recall the incident from back then. Along with the image of Seunggeon covered in blood, he would lightly grumble complaints toward the guy who was supposedly in America, and that would be the end of it.
But today was different.
After lunch break, Chaehun was sitting in the employee lounge eavesdropping on his seniors’ conversation when the word “class reunion” made him think of Seunggeon.
The chain of memory was frightening. From the moment he met Seunggeon at the reunion until he escaped from his house, everything came to mind at once. Especially the most explicit scenes from that night played randomly.
Including how he’d gasped for breath while making lewd sounds, along with the sensation that made him shake his head involuntarily while looking at Seunggeon’s flushed face.
Chaehun rubbed his cheeks with his hand as they threatened to turn red with embarrassment. No matter how intense the sex had been, it wasn’t something to recall in broad daylight, much less at work.
Ten days had passed since that day, and the year had changed in between. During the several year-end parties, the end-of-year closing ceremony, and even the new year opening ceremony, memories of Seunggeon would intrude from time to time.
Sex after two and a half years was this terrifying. It seemed the problem was that he’d been too abstinent during that time.
Should I go to a club?
Chaehun, who preferred safe and careful encounters, didn’t particularly like clubs. Still, he needed other stimulation to return to real life. At this rate, he’d end up masturbating while thinking of Seunggeon. That was really the one thing he didn’t want to do.
Chaehun deliberately shook off the explicit memories floating around in his head and focused on his seniors’ conversation.
“What kind of connections does that guy have anyway?”
“The way the Director protects him is no joke.”
“Ugh. That’s why I’m dying. He’s so slippery, but what can I even say to him?”
Before he knew it, the conversation topic had become Park Gwangho. Chaehun had to think deeply about workplace power dynamics because of this incident.
The guy who impersonated Chaehun’s name and caused trouble still remained in the General Affairs Department. The Assistant Manager had tried to transfer Park Gwangho to another department with this opportunity, but failed. It was because the Administrative Director backed Park Gwangho to the end. Word also came that the reason he’d lasted so long in the Planning and Public Relations Department was also because of the Administrative Director.
Fortunately, Chaehun had escaped from being Park Gwangho’s supervising senior. Park Gwangho, who had moved next to his new supervisor, still acted shamelessly and boldly as ever. There was no one gutsy enough to nag Park Gwangho, who had the powerful backing of the Chairman and the Administrative Director.
The military wasn’t the only place where you had to do what you were told. Refreshing stories of justice only existed on the internet. To have a smooth work life, even if it was annoying and gave you heartburn, you had to read the room and endure.
However, there existed invisible power that transcended all of that. Park Gwangho was such an existence.
“How did Assistant Manager Kang deal with him for two months?”
“Right?”
Suddenly the conversational ball was passed to Chaehun. Receiving everyone’s attention, Chaehun smiled with a smile befitting work life.
“I just had him do Excel data entry. Even a child can do that.”
“But if he makes mistakes, you have to start over from the beginning.”
“It doesn’t matter if he makes mistakes. If you run the program, it auto-generates.”
“Ah. There was that method. I should do that too.”
When Chaehun shared his secret technique, Park Gwangho’s new supervisor laughed happily. The conversation once again focused on speculating about Park Gwangho’s identity.
They couldn’t help but be curious about which family’s child Park Gwangho was—someone who got hired on a contract basis through the Chairman’s connections and received the Administrative Director’s protection. They debated back and forth about how selfishly he must have lived for his social skills and character to be so messed up.
Bzzzz.
Chaehun, who had been silently listening to the conversation, picked up the vibrating phone from his cardigan pocket. Checking his phone message without much thought, Chaehun froze.
[It’s Seunggeon. Reply if you can take a call right now.]
No matter how many times he blinked, the message from an unfamiliar number clearly had Seunggeon’s name written in it.
His mind suddenly snapped to attention.
Why?
Only question marks floated around in his head. The class reunion had been ten days ago. They’d slept together once and parted without even seeing each other’s faces again. Although he’d thought of Seunggeon from time to time, he hadn’t thought they’d meet again. But Seunggeon had contacted him first.
There would be many ways to find out his phone number. Still, it was hard to guess why Seunggeon would go through such trouble to contact him first.
No, he could guess. But it felt like he was drinking kimchi soup before catching the chicken, so he put it on hold for now.
Anyway, to know anything, he had to reply. And that meant he would form some kind of relationship with Seunggeon again.
Chaehun, who had been glaring at the phone screen, got up from his seat and left the lounge. Standing at the end of a hallway where people rarely passed by, he caught his breath for a moment.
[I can take a call.]
As soon as he sent the reply, his phone immediately vibrated. It was that number from before.
“Hello.”
—It’s lunch break, right?
“Yeah.”
—Did you eat?
“I ate. Did you?”
—Me too. The reason I’m contacting you is, if you have time, let’s have dinner together. How about tomorrow or the day after?
Seunggeon briefly went through the courteous exchanges before getting straight to the point. On the surface, it was a very casual dinner invitation. However, Chaehun couldn’t answer right away. It didn’t seem like he was trying to meet for no reason.
Chaehun decided to think simply. If he was curious, he just had to ask.
“I have time, but what’s this about?”
—I have something to say. It’d be better to see each other in person rather than talk over the phone.
Seunggeon’s voice sounded so wonderfully attractive over the phone that Chaehun clenched his fist.
This, I can misunderstand this, right?
He shouldn’t get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it. Among things that couldn’t be discussed over the phone were religion, multi-level marketing, and investment solicitations. Just because he was born with a silver spoon didn’t mean he couldn’t be a scammer. Chaehun reined in his thoughts that were trying to run wild.
“Tomorrow doesn’t work. The day after, Friday is fine.”
—I’ll make a restaurant reservation. I’ll send you the location and time by message, so check it.
“Okay.”
—See you Friday.
“Yeah.”
The call ended that briefly. Chaehun dry-washed his face with the hand not holding the phone. For his first love and unrequited crush from ten years ago to lead to something after meeting at a class reunion was something that would only happen in dramas. However, his heart fluttered with an inexplicable premonition.
“Ahem.”
Chaehun lightly cleared his throat to calm the corners of his mouth that were trying to turn up. In the meantime, the phone in his hand vibrated. Seunggeon had sent a message with the appointment location and time.
Friday. 7 PM. Along with the name of a Korean traditional restaurant not far from the hospital, a map was attached.
“Oh no.”
The corners of his mouth that he’d tried so hard to suppress turned upward again. It couldn’t be helped.
* * *
On Friday, Chaehun made full preparations and waited for work to end. He put much more effort into both his hair and clothes than usual. It wasn’t very noticeable because of the thick padded jumper he wore against the cold, but what mattered was that he’d made the effort.
But an unexpected emergency caught Chaehun by the ankle. It was fine that he left work a little late because of preparing materials. The problem was the road congestion during Friday rush hour.
From the hospital to the restaurant where they were meeting was fairly close. It was a natural flow to choose a taxi because he’d have to walk for quite a while after getting off the bus or subway. But a distance that should have taken ten minutes at most took over thirty minutes.
As soon as the taxi stopped, Chaehun practically flew into the building.
“I’m late.”
Getting on the elevator, Chaehun checked the time on his phone and swallowed a sigh. He wasn’t exactly late. It was just three minutes before the appointment time.
He didn’t know traffic would be this backed up since he usually only took the subway. Still, it seemed he’d barely be able to keep the time.
The Korean traditional restaurant Seunggeon had reserved was located on the 7th floor of a building. Chaehun had never heard of it, but when he looked it up, it was quite a famous place. The price was expensive in proportion to the excellent taste. The service was just as certain, so when he gave Seunggeon’s name to the staff, they guided him to a private room in the back.
Before the staff opened the door, Chaehun took a light deep breath. He’d been worried about being late so he hadn’t realized, but thinking that Seunggeon was beyond the door, tension suddenly rushed over him. He didn’t want to show his high school classmate and first love either a flustered appearance or a stiffly frozen one.
Chaehun steeled himself and stepped through the open door. Seunggeon, who had been sitting in a chair, stood up from his seat to greet him.
“Welcome.”
“Sorry. Traffic was backed up so I’m a bit late.”
“You came right on time.”
While the staff said they would prepare the meal soon and closed the door to leave, Chaehun took off his padded jumper and sat across from Seunggeon.
“What’s this about all of a sudden?”
“Let’s eat first.”
When Chaehun asked about the business first, Seunggeon deflected.
“That makes me more curious. Is it serious?”
“Perhaps.”
Neither a straight pitch nor a check swing worked on Seunggeon. His serious face saying it was serious made Chaehun feel ominous.
Don’t tell me, really an investment solicitation?
Chaehun recalled the hypothesis that Seunggeon might be a scammer once more before giving up. There was no money to squeeze out of a salaried worker who had just barely filled three years of work life.
