And honestly, how would Kwon Jukyung know? When I buy for others, I have to swipe the card so I’d get caught, but how could he find out about accepting treats without tailing me?
“Sounds good.”
I immediately followed Derek. After Jukyung, I was gradually getting used to accepting treats from someone. After always being the one to pay, this was also a novel and enjoyable experience. Was I gradually learning the mindset of a freeloader this way?
Since I’d accepted a free meal, I paid for coffee without much thought, and ended up realizing it was a situation where I’d inevitably get caught. But well, thanks to that I’d gained mental and physical stability through chatting with someone in the same industry, so I could let Kwon Jukyung’s nagging go in one ear and out the other for about a day. Honestly, having gotten somewhat used to his absurd scolding, I sometimes even found it cute.
***
Cute my ass.
After Jukyung came home from work, a harsh winter wind blew through the small house. With the chill coldly enveloping my whole body, it seemed there was no need to turn on the air conditioner. But it’s not like he was picking fights with me about anything either. He seemed clearly sulking about something, but since he wasn’t saying anything, I felt prickly all over as if feeling guilty alone.
Unable to help it, I decided to confess first and quickly get it over with by taking my beating. First, to reduce the beating even a little, I set the mood by sighing so deeply the ground might cave in.
“You know, yesterday was the first day, right? You saw how dejected I was, didn’t you?”
When I brought it up, Jukyung looked at me with crossed arms as if asking, “So?” His expression was still coldly unrelenting.
“You see, when I was in school I was the type to shine in presentation classes, so standing in front of others wasn’t such a big deal, you know? But teaching basic conversation is so difficult. No, it seems even more difficult because it’s basic conversation—I can’t understand the students’ position at all… So I…”
I rambled on and on about the difficult things at the academy. I added all sorts of trivial stories I hadn’t told Derek. I didn’t make up things that didn’t happen, but I dredged up even things I hadn’t really cared about and exaggerated how hard it was.
As I was doing that, suddenly I felt unfamiliar with myself chattering about how hard things were and whatnot. Thinking about it, at some point, especially to people who knew me well, I couldn’t easily say things were hard for me. Of course, I’d never bragged about doing something well either.
When I was young, if I bragged hoping for praise or recognition, the response that came back was that anyone in my situation would do that much. There were even people who scolded me instead, saying I should be ashamed of not doing better. When I said things were hard, they asked what I was lacking that made it hard. They said if I found things hard, there wouldn’t be a single person in this world who wasn’t struggling.
Even to my young heart, there wasn’t a single wrong word when I thought about it, so I couldn’t argue back and just shut my mouth after that. But even while shutting my mouth and bowing my head like that, I felt pointlessly wronged and sad.
I just needed a hand to pat me and praise me when I did something well. When I confided that things were hard, I just needed someone to hug me and say, yes, it must be really hard.
I’d never said I was the best in the world, nor had I ever said I was the most unfortunate or struggling. I just wanted to feel that in that moment, there was someone who would unconditionally take my side.
But there was no such person by my side. Family and relatives weren’t my choice, so fair enough, but even the friends I chose didn’t take my side—perhaps it was because there was something wrong with me, I thought.
So before I knew it, I shut my mouth and tried not to show it. I smiled well at everyone, kept an appropriate distance, and didn’t reveal my true feelings. Then, although somewhere in my heart felt empty, at least I wouldn’t get hurt.
I grinned and wandered around, nodding yes, yes when adults said something, and to friends I’d just joke about things like my face or money while making light complaints like the resort food being bad. Like the youngest master raised preciously in a nouveau riche family.
But Kwon Jukyung was basically too quiet. In special situations—when nagging—he’d become unnecessarily talkative, but usually he’d keep his mouth shut even in situations where he should speak. When you’re with someone like that, naturally you end up talking more. Especially in cases like this where I’m in the weaker position having to read the room.
Of course, having grown up under a dictator father, I was used to reading the room if you could call it that, but actually, my father was always busy and the house was big, and I’d spent half my teenage years abroad anyway, so if I felt uncomfortable with my father, I could just avoid him and that was that.
But in this small house, there was nowhere to escape. The bedroom and study were both Jukyung’s spaces. It’s not like I could crouch and sit in the dressing room or bathroom. In the end, I had to face him every time, and when Jukyung kept his mouth shut in some awkward atmosphere, before I knew it I couldn’t stand it and was chattering away. Then I’d end up saying things I normally wouldn’t say. Just like right now.
“So I didn’t want to come home alone. Work talk, you know, you have to do it with work people to connect. Because the struggles are similar for each other. That’s why I did that. Plus Derek is a senior so he knows more than me, and after hearing this and that, it did make me feel a bit better. Isn’t it the same for you? When you first started working at the company, it must have been hard.”
Actually, with Derek it was more light chatting than sharing struggles, but I deliberately exaggerated, finishing the story as if we’d exchanged stories about our hardships and relieved stress, then glanced at Jukyung’s expression.
Did the exaggeration work to some extent? Was it my imagination that the cold energy had dissipated a little? No, somehow it seemed like an even more displeased expression.
Jukyung looked down as if thinking for a moment in the same posture with crossed arms, then suddenly relaxed his posture and stood up. I, who had been sitting on the rug in front of the sofa, flinched in surprise and pulled my body back slightly. Jukyung glanced at me then silently walked toward the kitchen.
While sounds of clattering and water could be heard from the kitchen, I was left alone and ended up feeling secretly irritated, embarrassed at myself for instinctively shrinking back.
I mean, even though I’m a debtor, can’t I buy a meal or coffee as I please? It’s not like I’m confined by a loan shark, so is there a reason to be this subservient? What’s he going to do if I don’t listen a bit? Will he tie me up and beat me, put me on a anchovy fishing boat, harvest and sell my organs? He’s been living well too, so he’s not stupid enough to ruin his life with illegal acts over a few bucks, right?
This time I crossed my arms, lifted my chin, and glared toward the kitchen in a sprawling posture. That’s when I heard Jukyung calling me.
“Kang Doyun!”
“Huh? What?”
“Come here.”
As if what I’d been grumbling about just now never happened, I sprang up from my seat like a wagging dog. Why is he calling people like calling a dog with their full name? I cursed inwardly, but when I stuck my face into the kitchen, I put on the most innocent expression imaginable.
“What? Do you need me to do something?”
Jukyung stared at me with a slightly frowning face. His eyes were naturally sharp, so just looking at me made it seem like he was seeing through me. Fuck. Did he notice? That I was cursing inwardly and forcing a smile?
“Take this.”
Jukyung pointed at the dining table with his hand.
I let out a sigh of relief. Inwardly, of course. Following Jukyung’s finger with my eyes, I saw a large plate with cheese, fruit, nuts, and such arranged attractively on the island table. And beside it, more eye-catching than the snack plate, was a bottle of champagne and two champagne glasses.
Seeing the uniquely designed bottle, my eyes gleamed. It’s a brand of alcohol I like. Wait, but I didn’t buy that champagne directly so I don’t know the exact price, but surely…
While I was staring with widened eyes, Jukyung took only the champagne and champagne glasses and left the kitchen first. I guess he means to drink in the living room.
I hurriedly picked up the snack plate and followed Jukyung.
“Hey, where did this come from? It must be pretty expensive?”
He’s not going to make me drink it all then bill me, is he? Ah, having such thoughts. I really hate that I’m gradually becoming a penny-pincher too. But I can’t help it. To avoid becoming homeless again on the day Kwon Jukyung kicks me out, I needed to tighten my belt too.
“That… I received it as a gift. You don’t need to worry.”
Ooh, a gift. I nodded in relief, then had suspicious thoughts again. Do people casually give and receive such expensive champagne as gifts? People who would do that would be entrepreneurs, politicians, mafia… Am I watching too many movies if these are the only ones that come to mind? I frowned a bit seriously while sitting down.
“Are you sure it’s okay to drink this? Who gives something like this as a gift? Maybe…”
I directed a suspicious gaze at Jukyung.
“A bribe or something…”
Jukyung made an incredulous expression.
“I’m just a regular employee. Who would bribe a regular employee?”
My point exactly. That’s why it’s even stranger. Who would give such expensive champagne as a gift to a regular employee?
“Maybe the company president’s daughter is trying to win your favor by giving something like this…”
Suddenly some kind of enlightenment came to me. You know what?
This bastard says he’s an ordinary person, a regular employee, but all the things he has are really expensive, aren’t they? That’s assuming they’re all genuine. Plus, despite not having much cash, he only seeks out good food to eat. Maybe…
I opened my eyes wide like a flounder.
“Are you maybe like a kept man under some rich family’s daughter…”
A cushion smacked the back of my head.
“If you don’t want it, put it away. I was trying to be thoughtful since you got a job and said things were hard, but what you’re thinking…”
“Ah, no. I was just joking. Hey, it’s a joke!”
I grabbed onto the pant leg—no, the bare leg exposed because he was wearing shorts—of Kwon Jukyung who was standing up holding the champagne bottle.
“I was wrong. Jukyung-ssi. Jukyung-nim. Lord Jukyung. Please. I want to drink that!”
When I desperately grabbed his ankle and prostrated myself, Jukyung’s steps toward the kitchen stopped. Well, looking at the pattern so far, he eventually let me eat the food, so I figured he’d say a few annoying words and put it down, but there was no movement.
“Hey, Kwon Jukyung. Let’s drink that.”
