The sound of teeth grinding was clear. Soon, a voice pressed down with suppressed anger echoed through the house. It was so low and chilly that it was unimaginable as Hongdan’s voice.
“Are you making fun of me right now?”
“Hm? Why?”
Well, of course, because all the food filling the table was…
“Kalguksu, soft tofu, watermelon…… These were all things you, Hongdan, used to like. Aren’t they?”
Because they were things he’d told Seonha he wanted to eat when he was pregnant.
‘Seonha, I…… I can’t eat this.’
‘Why?’
‘Isn’t there something plainer? Like yogurt or soft tofu. Or even just fruit like watermelon……’
‘Are you telling me to cater to someone else’s kid’s tastes?’
‘……No.’
“Mm, did your tastes change? But you still like watermelon, right? I had a bit of trouble getting watermelon in this season……”
Hongdan’s right foot rose without further hesitation.
Smack—!
Naturally, the destination was the shin of the guy who’d boiled bone broth with his intuition.
“Ah! Ah, why…!”
“You eat plenty, bastard. The child I would’ve fed this to disappeared a long time ago.”
With those words, Hongdan quickly left the kitchen. Honestly, he thought Yeon Seonha should be grateful that he left quietly without flipping that shitty table.
Part of it was because if he’d flipped it, knowing his personality, he would’ve cleaned it up himself and been annoyed, but mostly he just didn’t want to show even the slightest gap for him to wedge into. The moment he lost his reason, Seonha would obviously seize the opportunity and ramble on with more sophistry while clinging to him. Hongdan had learned thoroughly yesterday that in the end, the one who’d be emotionally drained was himself.
I must be crazy, fuck.
Just this morning, he’d let his guard down again after waking up in that guy’s unfamiliar tenderness.
Humans being animals of learning, my ass.
He genuinely became curious how many bad habits that Kant guy who spouted such dreamy nonsense had corrected before going to sleep in his lifetime. No, actually, there was no need to even examine it. Given that damned personality, he probably didn’t even have acquaintances who’d publicly state whether he’d learned or maintained his bad habits. Considering Kant’s level of sociability, Hongdan concluded that maxim was just empty words with a shiny exterior.
Thud, thud—! The sound of roughly shoving his feet into bathroom slippers echoed even louder than before.
***
Wednesday evening, a small beer hall in Gwanghwamun. A man in a suit entered the establishment.
He had a straight build and gave off an overall sharp impression. His gait and movements were also clean without excess, naturally drawing the attention of those around him. But paying no mind to the gazes, he went straight to a table for two where someone was sitting.
“What’s this, all of a sudden? A beer hall when you don’t even like alcohol?”
His gaze had been directed at one person from the entrance all along. At Hongdan, who was sitting in the most secluded spot, slumped with his cheek pressed flat against the table. Seeing as he’d looked at the corner first upon opening the sliding door, Hongdan seemed to be a presence familiar to him like a habit.
Even though the companion he’d called had arrived, Hongdan had no intention of raising his upper body and only tapped the table with his hand. The man was a bit absurd but thought, ‘Well, something must have ruined his mood,’ and quietly pulled out a bar stool.
The leather of the chair sank deeply under the man’s weight. Only then did Hongdan let out a deep sigh and lift his head.
“Life is fucking bitter, Chan……”
Right. The person Hongdan had sent an SOS to today was none other than his one and only ball friend.
The person who’d bring a first aid kit rather than a 30-roll toilet paper set as a housewarming gift—Jung Hyeonchan.
A friend who’d readily offered his home in case Hongdan had nowhere to go even after the divorce, perhaps more family-like than blood relatives. Hyeonchan poked Hongdan’s round nose tip and laughed.
“Alcohol will be even more bitter though.”
It was a low voice like Seonha’s. But strangely, Hyeonchan’s didn’t make Hongdan anxious. Rather, it was a comfortable voice. Hongdan’s face, which still had some wrinkles, finally began to gradually relax.
“Sorry. For calling you when you’re busy.”
When he’d contacted him from work, he couldn’t have been more desperate, but now that he’d actually called him here on a weekday evening, he did feel a bit guilty.
However, Hyeonchan only let out another chuckle at his friend acting uncharacteristically cautious. He was also curious what on earth could have crushed the spirit of Hongdan, who would be offended to be ranked second in fierceness, to this extent.
“No matter how busy I am, wouldn’t I have time for a drink with you? Just pick what you want to eat. I’m hungry.”
“Mm……”
Hongdan’s shoulders, which had been hunched, straightened with each page of the menu he turned. Life gradually returned to his murky black eyes as well. It was a reaction truly befitting the maxim that all happiness comes from carbohydrates and money.
The corners of Hyeonchan’s mouth twitched.
Acting like that and saying sorry for what.
He wanted to mock his companion who was faithful to basic human desires, but instead settled for picking up one of the mini pretzels that came as a basic snack. It seemed today was a day he needed to boost Hongdan’s spirits.
After examining the menu for a while, Hongdan opened to a certain page and turned it toward Hyeonchan in a direction easy for him to see. There, fried snacks that went well with beer were lined up.
But what caught Hyeonchan’s eye first was Hongdan’s index finger wedged in the menu. No doubt he couldn’t bear to eliminate one of the two finalists in his heart and was passing the decision to him.
“First, this, honey garlic chicken wings and……”
Sure enough, after pointing with his eyes at one of the final candidates, Hongdan carefully opened the page he’d marked with his finger.
“This…… Rose tteokbokki. Hey, this might be too much for two people, right? Ah, and if there’s something you want to eat, you can order that. You know I’m not picky about food.”
Then he immediately built a thick wall without giving Hyeonchan any room to add his opinion. Hyeonchan had to firmly tense his facial muscles to avoid contorting his expression.
He knew that defensive personality well enough to be sick of it since elementary school, but it seemed to have gotten even more severe after marrying Seonha. If before it had been frustratingly trying to protect the naturally weak parts born as an omega, from two or three years ago it looked like trembling to avoid adding more wounds because the already scraped places hurt too much.
As it was, Hyeonchan had been the only one among Hongdan’s acquaintances at the time who’d opposed their marriage. Though Hongdan’s acquaintances were basically just his family.
Anyway, there was no way the sight of Hongdan worn down by that trash could look good.
Hyeonchan quietly lowered his head to hide his expression and pressed the order bell. Before the employee could even give the common greeting of “May I take your order?”, he spoke in a firm tone.
“Rose tteokbokki and one honey garlic chicken wings, please. Two 500cc beers as well.”
Then Hongdan immediately widened his eyes and urgently interjected.
“Huh? Hey! There’s no need to go that far…!”
“Bring the beer first, please. Thank you.”
“Ah, what? Yes!”
But as if he’d anticipated this too, Hyeonchan paid no mind and quickly finalized the order. Then he picked up another basic snack with a calm face. Even if he wanted to chew up and destroy Yeon Seonha, he couldn’t degenerate into a savage who enjoyed human flesh, so that hard snack was the best he could do. Of course, if given the opportunity, he had no intention of missing it.
“Damn, if I’d known this would happen, I should’ve just told you to choose first. Why are you always like this, making people feel bad?”
Hongdan couldn’t hide his embarrassment. The gesture of scratching his head was busy.
What’s the big deal about this, what’s the big deal about ordering something you want to eat?
He had a heap of desire to interrogate whether that guy, despite being your husband, never bought you anything you wanted to eat, but Hyeonchan deliberately didn’t. It had been the same on the day Hongdan conveyed the news that he’d decided to divorce. Instead, he put a pretzel in that small mouth and conveyed affection disguised as a warning.
“If you say sorry one more time, I’m just leaving. I hate hearing apologies from your mouth the most.”
“But when I am sorry, what am I supposed to… Ah, okay, okay! I just won’t say it, okay!”
Only when Hyeonchan actually half-stood up at the ‘sorry’ that unconsciously came out again did Hongdan raise the white flag.
“You petty bastard, really.”
Hongdan narrowed his eyes and jutted out his lower lip. Hyeonchan just raised the corners of his long mouth and propped his chin with an elegant gesture.
“When I’m the only petty bastard you have as a friend.”
“It’s such a fucking accurate statement that I have nothing to say.”
“It’s okay. I only have you too.”
“Yeah, you’re such a liar.”
Though they were meeting after half a year, a comfortable atmosphere flowed as if they’d met just yesterday. The clashing gazes were only soft, and laughter harmoniously mixed in occasionally during conversation.
Hongdan liked this about Hyeonchan.
Sometimes he’d even thought about how bleak and arduous his life would have been without him. Each time, he consistently met a depressing ending.
His insides, which had been dizzy all day, finally began to calm down little by little. Though it had been an appointment forcibly made just to delay going home, since his companion was Hyeonchan, there was indeed an effect beyond that. Honestly, if Hyeonchan would just permit it, he wanted to settle into his house again and hide forever.
No, he’d obviously permit it.
That’s why Hongdan couldn’t settle in—because of that.
“Excuse me. Your order is here.”
Soon the menu Hongdan had been drooling over came out, and Hyeonchan handed him the utensils he’d been waiting for. Hongdan immediately took them and picked up the chicken first, from which a sweet and savory smell wafted. The moment he opened his cute mouth wide to bite down with a ahhh—
Bzzzz— bzzzzz—
Hongdan’s phone, placed on the table, started vibrating.
Naturally, Hyeonchan’s gaze was drawn there. But Hongdan was still only looking straight ahead. Because he had a hunch who the owner of that clueless call was.
When Hongdan’s head remained upright as if it were someone else’s phone, Hyeonchan gestured.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“Nah. Just a reporter who wants to auto-hunt with my gossip.”
Hongdan casually employed Yeon Seonha as a third-rate reporter. Since he had no intention of answering no matter how many times he called, there’d be no chance of being caught as long as Hyeonchan didn’t try to check his phone. Actually, he didn’t mind him finding out, but Hongdan currently didn’t have the mental strength left to endure his affectionate nagging.
“Those kinds of bastards still exist these days?”
Look at those furrowed brows still unable to hide his discomfort.
He’s a guy who cares for his friend this much, so if he found out that he’d gotten back together with Seonha—or rather, not quite back together—it was obvious he’d hold him all night and give a whole speech about the dangers of non-recyclable trash.
“They’re not nonexistent.”
He did subtly avoid eye contact, but strictly speaking, it wasn’t entirely a lie either.
The wedding of the century meeting its downfall was only a year ago, and since there was no other issue with views as guaranteed as their divorce, unknown numbers occasionally appeared on his phone. Of course, Hongdan had his own response manual he’d established for such times.
Hongdan calmly took a bite of the chicken he hadn’t tasted earlier. Indeed, the sweetness that didn’t betray the sweet scent he’d first smelled soothed his tongue. Hongdan’s mood, which had momentarily tried to sour from Seonha’s call, regained stability.
However, Hyeonchan’s face, glaring at Hongdan’s phone, still wasn’t pleasant.
“Then can’t you just turn it off?”
“I can.”
Hongdan’s response popped out without going through his brain as he focused only on filling his stomach, whether his phone caught fire or not.
“I’ll turn it off.”
“Yeah. Huh? No! Hey, wait…!”
So he couldn’t stop Hyeonchan’s hand from reaching for his phone in time. Even though he urgently stretched out his arm, Hyeonchan had already scanned the screen.
“Who is this?”
“That’s…… well……”
“……It’s a familiar consonant combination somehow.”
“I don’t…… think so?”
“No way.”
“……”
“It’s not Yeon Seonha, is it?”
Damn it.
