The rarely seen, shabby-looking hangover soup restaurant had no customers at all. Han opened the shop door and entered, shouting, “Boss, two bowls of hangover soup here.”
“Give us a bottle of soju too.”
Then a middle-aged man with messy hair came out from the kitchen, yawning. He opened the refrigerator and served the liquor bottle first.
“It’s been a while.”
He seemed to be a regular, as he briefly exchanged greetings with Han.
Han poured liquor into a water glass instead of the soju glass set on the table. He thought of the ahjussi from goshiwon room 305.
“Want to drink?”
Han asked, holding up the glass.
“No, I’m fine. I’m tired.”
Before Jiwon’s answer was even finished, Han downed it in one shot.
“Aren’t you upset, hyung?”
He asked while wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“Me, well, to begin with…”
His insides were burning up, but he deliberately acted indifferent.
“Of course I’m disappointed about the money too. But honestly, if it weren’t for Seoho, would I have even gone to an interview? Honestly, I’m grateful just for the interview fees I received so far.”
He acted with all his heart.
The Kim Jiwon that Han knew was a weary young man who didn’t even know such obscene parties existed.
Han made an “ah” expression at Jiwon’s answer.
“Hyung wouldn’t have even thought about doing something like this.”
He chuckled.
“Sorry. I mean, you wouldn’t do something like that, right hyung? Right?”
“I didn’t refuse. I mean…”
Jiwon waved his hands.
“I know.”
Han winked one eye.
“I know what you mean, hyung. Anyway, let’s have a drink as comrades.”
Han poured liquor into a soju glass instead of the water glass and held out a glass to Jiwon. Since he was going this far, he couldn’t refuse and accepted the glass.
They both emptied their glasses simultaneously. At the words “just one more,” he had one more glass, and before they knew it, one bottle was quickly gone.
As the alcohol went in, anxiety crept up again.
What did they say to me?
We’ll contact you separately.
Right. They said they’d contact me. To anyone’s ears, it was positive words. But what if they told other interviewees “You passed”?
Though it was just imagination, Jiwon turned pale.
“What exactly did they say?”
He asked again belatedly.
Then two earthenware bowls came down on the table, along with a soju bottle.
Han drank the soju again without answering, then gulped down the soup.
He made a “kyaa” sound.
“What exactly they said was.”
Han, who’d drunk three glasses in a row, was already drunk and his speech became slurred.
“Unfortunately, we don’t think we can work with Han Seoho. That’s what they said. That fucking ugly bastard with horn-rimmed glasses.”
“Did they tell you a reason?”
“Yeah. They only told me to insert the dildo, they didn’t tell me to ejaculate. They said they need someone who does exactly as told? Ah, fuck. If I’d known that, I would have held back too. I’m fucking good at holding back.”
After saying this much, he sniffled.
Han’s situation was regrettable, but Jiwon felt relieved inside.
He had done exactly as told. He had bled, but that would be a deduction factor at most, not enough to fail. If it had been, they would have clearly told him he failed, just like they told Han.
He couldn’t guarantee he passed, but it wasn’t a failure either, so it was somewhat comforting.
He was pathetic for feeling relieved at someone else’s misfortune. He derided himself, saying situations really make people petty.
“What about you, hyung? Did you do that too?”
Jiwon nodded his head roughly.
Han said “Fuck” and put down his glass loudly. He shouted “Boss, one more bottle of soju” while grumbling that he felt like shit. Then he looked at Jiwon with watery eyes.
“But you know, even if you didn’t have expectations, still, why aren’t you affected, hyung?”
He seemed puzzled.
“Hyung, you need money. Because of debt, you work twenty hours a day without any days off. Is that something a human does? Frankly speaking, with 700 million won, hyung’s life would change, so why are you not bothered at all?”
He asked accusingly.
“Or is it because the work is dirty? Are you ashamed of selling your body? Frankly speaking, even if you sold all your organs, there’s no one who’d give you that much money. But why!”
Han raised his voice. Before he knew it, tears were flowing down his cheeks.
“But why aren’t you bothered at all, hyung?”
Sniffle, Han wiped his tears and weakly finished.
Instead of answering, Jiwon emptied his soju glass. Then he stared fixedly at Han. He shook his head as if to show him and let out a light sigh.
“Seoho, it’s not that I’m not bothered, I don’t have the mental space to even think about it. Like you said, I’m working all day, where’s the time for that? Try living like me for three months. No, even if you lived for just one month, you’d understand what I just said. But I’ve been living like this for six years. Six years.”
He sent resentful eyes and subtly blamed Han.
“I want to earn 700 million won too. I want to, but honestly, in my situation, not having expectations is a hundred, a thousand times better. If I had expectations like Seoho and those expectations went wrong, it wouldn’t just end in disappointment. I can’t live, at all.”
Hinting that he was barely living because he couldn’t die, he filled the empty glass with soju and downed it in one gulp.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I was just so upset… Sorry, hyung.”
Han sniffled and apologized.
He was about to say it’s okay when Han’s head drooped deeply downward. He hurriedly supported Han’s forehead with his hand and carefully lowered his head onto the table.
He wasn’t someone who’d become unconscious after sharing just two bottles of soju.
How much did he drink?
Even while grumbling, he briefly doubted.
‘That bastard is the Grim Reaper.’
He trembled slightly at the words circling his ears. Regardless of passing or failing, his identity must absolutely not be exposed. Jiwon recalled someone around his age lying down with a respirator and made a resolution.
“Check please.”
“What’s going on? This is the first time I’ve seen him blackout drunk.”
The shop owner said this and took the 50,000 won Jiwon held out.
“Is there a motel nearby?”
He asked the owner who brought change.
“If you go into the back alley, there’s one called Dream Motel. It’s shabby but usable.”
The owner helped Jiwon carry Han on his back, then guided him to the entrance of the alley leading to the motel. Thanks to that, he easily found the motel and got a room to stay in with Han.
Almost throwing Han down, he laid him on the bed, and Jiwon also collapsed beside him.
His right arm hurt as if it would fall off.
He took out a painkiller from his sling bag and chewed it.
He looked down at Han. His eyes were moist.
The more he got to know Han, the more different he was from what he’d heard, and Jiwon was confused.
‘Don’t be fooled. It’s all acting. And kids like that are full of self-pity.’
‘You believe that? I’ve told you countless times they’re kids for whom lying is easier than eating.’
In the face sleeping soundly, which closely resembled that person, he looked very young. No matter how he thought about it, he didn’t look like someone who’d sent two men to their graves.
‘Be careful. The opportunity he introduced you to might not be an opportunity but your grave.’
Though the words were always to be careful, that person couldn’t stand to see him hesitate even a little.
Though it was work he’d started voluntarily, Jiwon felt very occasionally, and more frequently recently, like he was being dragged around.
Isn’t it you, not Han Seoho, who’s the Grim Reaper guiding me to my grave?
He shook his head.
Even if that’s the case again, so what?
He was the only one who told me the truth.
He was also the one who gave me this current position.
He steadied his mind.
He looked down at Han again. He resembled that person but didn’t feel like that person.
Honestly, Jiwon didn’t know that person’s original appearance. That person was always cautious, taciturn, and seemed deep in thought. Sometimes he was criticized for being unmanly because he was too quiet, but even then he would just quietly nod.
‘He acts just like a scholar.’
But the reality wasn’t like that.
The person Jiwon had seen his whole life was wearing his own mask.
A sex addict wearing a scholar’s mask.
That’s what the rumors said. Even if it was true, it was okay. If only he could see “that person” again, if only he could embrace him with these two hands, he’d gladly accept it even if he was a murderer.
His eyes stung.
Han Seoho. I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done. What you gave me just has to be an opportunity.
Jiwon glared at Han as if he’d kill him right now.
If not, there was nowhere left to stand.
His reason for living would disappear.
Thinking that, Jiwon wanted to cry too.
Even if he didn’t want to give up, he was afraid of the future where he might have to give up.
Throughout waking and sleeping, Han lamented his situation and cried. Jiwon also patted Han with a choked-up heart. More precisely, Han who had that person’s face.
I just have to do exactly as told, right?
He repeated those words.
Thanks to Han, he’d gotten a very important hint.
He resolved that if they’d just let him pass, he’d unconditionally do only as told.
Jiwon stayed at the motel with Han until noon, then left the still-sleeping Han and went to work at the logistics center. When he arrived at the pension after 10 o’clock after finishing overtime work, surprisingly Han greeted Jiwon. As if he’d never cried, as if he’d never been unconscious, with a bright and healthy face, warmly.
“Hyung! You worked hard coming. Hurry and come eat meat.”
And after the next day, he could never see Han again.
He disappeared like smoke.
