[…Okay.]
However, contrary to expectation, instead of storming out, he left his seat in just his shirt, saying he’d be back. Teo watched his retreating figure with a sour expression, unable to understand why he was enduring this while making his discomfort so obvious.
JO’Bar, with its shitty name, was awkwardly far from both Korea’s gay mainstream and the entertainment district, and both its exterior and interior sucked. The party, supposedly rented out entirely by a wealthy acquaintance, had effort put into it that didn’t match the venue, making it feel even tackier. Even so, all Kang Ikwon did was reject drinks and advances one after another while glaring intently at passing people like an inspector. The reason men kept approaching wasn’t just his clean appearance but also mistaking that gaze for a challenge or an invitation.
“…T…eo!!”
Just as he thought he heard his name cutting through the noise, he saw Jed in the distance, waving vigorously. Waving back, Teo scanned the man standing beside him. So that’s Jed’s sweetheart. Jed, who toured frequently, had partners scattered here and there but rarely made someone overseas his steady. Yet this was someone he was devoted enough to frequent Korea for. Naturally, his interest was piqued.
A face buried in the dark, flashing lights was briefly revealed under bursting white light. As the man looked down and smiled at something Jed whispered in his ear, his ambiguous eye shape—drooping or upturned, hard to tell—folded, and his innocent-looking impression became strangely alluring, almost lewd.
Though hard to gauge his precise features, he was quite eye-catching even from a distance. Of course he’d be—he’s had that fickle Jed Park’s soul captivated for over half a year. Watching the man and Jed press their foreheads together affectionately as they lit cigarettes, Teo glanced sideways toward the exit. Kang Ikwon was nowhere to be seen—perhaps he’d already left.
‘That’s what lasting relationships are like.’
At that moment, Kang Ikwon was being pushed away from the exit by the sea of people. Unluckily caught by a particularly persistent man, something seemed to have started as scattered people began gathering and blocking his escape route. Just like that day.
Having struggled out as if defying gravity, Kang Ikwon leaned against a wall with an exhausted face. He soon understood why only that spot was empty—from the bathroom stench stabbing from nearby. As his body pressed against the dirty wall where the slanted ceiling touched his head, rather than discomfort, a hollow sense of powerlessness washed over him. It carried the scent of defeat.
‘Because we can breathe in New York, our time together in Korea can be fulfilling.’
When he’d heard Jed’s words, what came to mind wasn’t the surprisingly similar shameless sophistry, but the image of the man who’d been quietly listening to it.
Kang Ikwon sometimes thought about it. Between the French man’s paradox that loving three people allowed for deeper love, and his own venomous remark about being the third spare key—which had hurt the man more? What followed that thought wasn’t guilt.
It was the desire that his passing insult had left a deeper, more painful memory in that man than his shameless lover had. The base impulse to destroy, like crushing soft cement, often felt like the most definite mark he’d left on the man.
In the chaos he’d just escaped from, under crude lighting, men whose forms couldn’t even be properly distinguished were tangled together shouting “Ho! Ho!” like at a standing concert.
The music and floor pounded together. They looked caught up in frenzied excitement, like a crowd counting down to New Year at Times Square.
“Happy New Year.”
Kang Ikwon, arms crossed, staring ahead, muttered.
“Just think of it as getting rid of bad luck for the new year….”
Why couldn’t I think of it that way, why couldn’t I just let it go?
The loud music and noise couldn’t penetrate Kang Ikwon, merely brushing past him. Clang, clang—from a short distance away, metal clanged impossibly loud.
Someone was pulling at an iron door hidden in a corner as if trying to rip it out. What is this? It’s a door, so why won’t it open? The slurred voice was clearly drunk.
Unable to use judgment or give up, the drunk man persistently shook the poor handle. Arms crossed, Kang Ikwon stared blankly at the sight. At that pathetic figure clinging to a door that wouldn’t open, that would never open, struggling pointlessly.
Let’s go back to New York. Watching that ugly sight, Kang Ikwon repeated the resolution he’d made countless times. Give up on doors that won’t open and go out through that visible entrance—
“You’ll break the door doing that.”
It was a voice right beside him. Unless it was a hallucination pulled up from his memory.
“Pulling won’t work, not with that one.”
Someone passed through the darkness Kang Ikwon was locked in and walked toward the door. Kang Ikwon, who’d been leaning, slowly uncrossed his arms and put strength in his toes.
An unfamiliar back clothed in fabric, yet a familiar, refreshing gait. The man gently grabbed the drunk’s shoulder and carefully detached him from the handle, then turned, revealing his profile.
Slightly raised, plump upper lip from smoking. Wave-like eye shape, vivid even under the murky blue lighting. This wasn’t simply a coincidence created by overlapping circumstances. A wave surged up from his fading memory. Kang Ikwon tensed his entire body to resist being swept away by the massive tidal wave rushing in.
The man carefully felt around the door as if searching for a hidden mechanism, then pressed down with his weight. Thunk—kicking lightly at the bottom of the door while simultaneously pulling the handle upward, the door opened with a rattle. The man turned around, smiling like a child who’d hit a home run.
“This one needs the trick. Go out while people aren’t watching.”
“……”
“Hurry.”
The man gestured with his hand.
“It’s a secret, normally.”
As if drawn by that gesture, Kang Ikwon’s feet moved slightly. Only when the man pushed the mumbling drunk’s back did he realize this situation, like a variation on his memory, wasn’t his own. Kang Ikwon slowly released the breath he’d been holding. Unlike his stiff body, his heart pounded wildly with excitement. Turn around. Instead of his frozen tongue, Kang Ikwon muttered in his mind. Look at me.
As if hearing the call that couldn’t become words, the man’s gaze turned toward him. Moistening his throat, which felt dry and constricted, with dry saliva, Kang Ikwon smiled.
“Happy New Year.”
The locked voice came out like a whisper, contrary to his intention. Suddenly, a worry he’d never had in his life intruded—what expression am I wearing while smiling right now?
But before he could even feel their eyes properly meet, the man casually turned his head away. Kang Ikwon, who’d been about to step forward, froze in place.
Hey, it’s me. The bewilderment that made his heart sink in that brief time was so desperate that when the man turned back around, he thought he must have shouted to stop him.
But the man, who seemed to glance over Kang Ikwon, immediately perked up like a dog whose name was called and turned his head toward inside the door. The lips revealed in the murky light seeping from the stairway softened gently. The man removed the cigarette he’d been holding and tilted his head back, laughing.
“You startled me! Why are you there?”
Unlike when he’d glanced at Kang Ikwon, his eyes curved sweetly enough to be called tender, gazing affectionately at someone. His face was bright as day, as if the bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks from that day had been a lie.
Kang Ikwon’s hand, not yet fully emerged from the darkness, grasped at empty air instead of the man’s sleeve. That feeble strength couldn’t catch even a hem of the man walking away without hesitation.
Surely, he didn’t see me properly.
Kang Ikwon stared blankly at that retreating figure.
His eyesight must have gotten worse. Or it’s too dark. The lighting is shit, or maybe….
The moment someone’s hand reached out through the open door and pulled the man in, all the possibilities he’d been reciting flew away white.
The long fingers wrapped around hair Kang Ikwon had never touched, the face tilted diagonally as if about to touch but not quite touching the lips Kang Ikwon had desperately sucked—it was all something he knew well.
Again, the words didn’t come out as sound. Kang Ikwon, who’d been moving his lips, spoke as if squeezing it out.
“Jed?”
That faint voice didn’t even reach his own ears. When the man released the handle he’d been holding—bang—the door sound, which couldn’t possibly be that loud, echoed everywhere. The two affectionate lovers disappeared beyond the door. When his consciousness, swept away by the rushing tidal wave, barely drifted to the surface, Kang Ikwon was in tatters.
Coming to his senses, Kang Ikwon ran and pulled the door handle. Whether it had been locked again from inside, it only rattled dully like before and wouldn’t open. He kicked at it madly several times, but it was the same. Kang Ikwon gritted his teeth and kicked the door hard.
BANG!
This time, with a loud crash that could truly fill the surroundings, the door opened. Without even being conscious of the attention drawn to him, he bounced out and ran up the stairs. When he reached ground level, the two had already disappeared.
“Ah, what the hell.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
Protests followed as he grabbed men gathered near the entrance or passing by, forcibly turning their shoulders. Regardless, Kang Ikwon frantically checked parked cars one after another, then roughly turned out his pockets. His trembling hand picked up the phone that had bounced out from his hasty touch and dialed a number. Futilely, a guidance message flowed out saying the phone was turned off and couldn’t be connected. Muttering curses, his steps that were about to kick off the ground again gradually slowed and stopped. Standing like a pole, glaring into the empty darkness, Kang Ikwon tightly shut his eyes.
THUD!
A loud sound filled the surroundings. Men smoking near the entrance flinched in surprise. At the fierce kick, the fallen sign sparked—sizzle, sizzle—and the flickering “J” went out. This seems completely broken. The man who set up the sign, now changed from Jo’Bar to o’Bar, clicked his tongue while side-eyeing Kang Ikwon. The obvious culprit was moving away too slowly, but no one stopped him.
He didn’t recognize me.
Walking out of the alley with an aura more desolate and fierce than the winter wind, Kang Ikwon rubbed his face.
No, I—wasn’t even on his mind.
A reality he’d never once imagined scratched painfully at his chest. The man’s sweet eyes, entirely focused on inside the stairway, and his indifferent eyes that had passed over him crossed, adding strength to the blade that tore through him. Don’t break that. Even those words hadn’t been a kindness directed at him, given only to him. The stumbling drunk and his own figure overlapped into one. And then, insignificantly, shattered.
This time the ringtone cut off briefly. As soon as Moon Jaeyoung answered, Kang Ikwon said:
[Tell me which hotel Jed is staying at right now.]
The sunken voice came out painfully scratched.
[Immediately.]
BANG BANG BANG!
It wasn’t even pressing the bell but pounding as if to break it, causing someone from down the corridor to poke their head out. The middle-aged man about to protest saw the tall man, almost touching the door frame, expressionlessly but menacingly bringing down his fist. Sensing the thick, seething turbulence coiling around that broad back, he quietly closed his door again.
The violent pounding that had started like chopping with an axe gradually weakened, and by the time someone grabbed the handle to open it, it had slipped into very hesitant, aching hesitation.
