I couldn’t give any answer.
I mulled over his words in silence. I was surprised, suspicious, and a little pleased.
What would it mean for Seo Nakil to take responsibility for me?
His kindness had provided conveniences I’d never dared to consider in my life. Things like a hospital room like a hotel suite, gorgeous and delicious lunch boxes, warm new clothes, and people’s kindness.
Did living under Seo Nakil’s shadow mean that would become more natural? Did it mean he would treat me endlessly warmly like he had for the past few days since I came to my senses?
‘It’s probably sincere, but…’
There was something more important than its sincerity. Namely, sustainability.
Nothing in this world lasts forever. Human hearts were no exception. So Seo Nakil’s favor could be withdrawn from me at any time.
I was afraid of that. I hated the sense of loss felt in the place where something existed and then disappeared. If only it hadn’t been there from the start, at least I wouldn’t have known.
While I wavered between desperation and fear, the car carrying us both diligently rushed forward. Familiar streets flashed past the car window.
Eventually, the car stopped in front of a building.
“…”
My heart was still tangled in confusion. I hadn’t answered anything properly, hadn’t promised anything completely.
One thing at a time, and in order. First I had to talk to the agency, and also talk to the label head in charge of group activities. I had to explain properly to the members too, and also determine the duration and extent of suspending activities.
To do that, I had to get out of this safe and quiet car and go into that building…
“Han Ijae-ssi.”
Seo Nakil gently grasped my hand that had been about to open the door and leave. He didn’t even put strength into his grip, yet I stopped right there.
“…”
He only called my name and said nothing else. But I ended up reading what he wanted to say in that quiet gaze.
Tell me to come with you.
Tell me to help you.
With just one word of need, it seemed like he would throw everything in the world aside and follow me out. It also seemed like he would take care of all the things I could never do without batting an eye, then ask refreshingly if I would trust his sincerity now.
I faced him and licked my dry lips. After moving them silently several times, they pressed shut.
Then eventually I opened my mouth again.
“I can do it alone.”
Please don’t fall into this swamp—you, of all people—remain on dry land from here.
“…I’ll be back.”
I still had no confidence, but I stubbornly insisted anyway. Partly because I didn’t want to show him a shabby appearance, and partly because I still felt a subtle sense of alienation toward his existence.
Swallowing down my regret, I removed Seo Nakil’s fingers that had been gripping my wrist one by one. His black eyes lingered on my fingertips for a long while.
“Alright.”
He answered in a low voice.
“I’ll be here.”
So I believed that Seo Nakil would wait for me here.
It was a delusion I could have because I’d completely forgotten the fact that he was very good at lying.
Whack!
Before I could even finish what I was trying to say, a binder flew at me and hit my head before rolling to the floor.
“Han Ijae. Have you finally gone crazy?”
I picked up the thrown binder and brushed off the dust. The paper was crumpled but it was better than torn. I decided to return it obediently to the CEO’s desk.
When I approached a few steps, the blatant smell of cigarettes stung my nose. Though it was an unpleasant smell, my mood improved a little. Because I thought I was lucky that the ashtray stuck full of countless butts hadn’t come flying. That was made of glass so it really hurt when it hit, and it was the worst because it scattered fragments when it broke upon falling.
“What? You collapsed? An event fell through? You even yielded a variety show schedule to another member? Do you even know how much money this all is before you pull this shit?”
“…”
“And what else? Your memory is unstable? You won’t come back right away? There’s a problem with activities… Ah fuck. What the hell do you have to do for this to happen? Ijae, the CEO is really upset. You’re all grown up and why is our Ijae like this? It’s not like you’re an idiot.”
I felt like cold water had been dumped over me at the blatant insults packed into every word. It also felt like I’d been dreaming of things made of sugar, chocolate, and biscuits before being instantly dragged out to reality.
As I mulled over the CEO’s sharp words, I discovered something strange and stammered.
“M-memory…”
I’d definitely only said that a health problem had arisen and it seemed I wouldn’t be able to continue activities anymore. I was of course going to talk about how my memories of the past few years were unstable, but I hadn’t said it yet because he’d thrown the binder.
But why did the CEO know about recent developments I hadn’t even told him? He hadn’t come to the hospital, and he wasn’t on close terms with Starium’s manager either.
“I thought you were at least well-behaved, but now you’ve got no manners either. Huh? A few lines of medical staff opinion, and a few lines saying you’re urging contract termination while talking about unfair contracts—faxed over. I wondered what your single mother taught you for you to be like this.”
Fax? I’d never sent a fax.
My wavering eyes moved to the CEO’s face, and following his gaze. The moment I saw that very binder that had hit my head just minutes ago, I had a sinking feeling.
I examined the contents with trembling hands. Test results summarized on one page, and the attending physician’s opinion, reasons for periodic testing, and…
「Considering the above opinion, we judge that Han Ijae’s (Party B in the contract) continued activities will be difficult, and request exclusive contract termination.」
The fax arrival time was about an hour before I came here, so just a little before I met Seo Nakil in the hospital room.
“The contract, fuck, this isn’t a joke.”
Since I hadn’t sent it, the sender was obvious. It was Seo Nakil.
My insides that I’d kept as calm as possible stirred again. If he’d sent it in advance to help with my explanation, shouldn’t he have told me? Did he think I wouldn’t refuse his help?
“Ijae. Do you want to terminate the contract?”
Pierced by the sharp voice, I raised my head. Dry saliva went down on its own. Because I knew what words would follow.
“Yeah, if you really can’t do it, you’ll have to terminate. But this isn’t my fault, it’s your fault and your stubbornness. Isn’t it? I clearly said if you just endured and did activities for a few years, I’d help you get those roles you like or do CFs, but you threw that away saying you wouldn’t do it, making things difficult for all the people attached outside too.”
“…”
“Just pay the penalty.”
Penalty. At those three syllables, my heart sank with a thud.
“It was 500 million won, wasn’t it, our Ijae’s price?”
Thunk. A new binder was thrown onto the desk. My name was written at the bottom.
A contract full of toxic clauses that my younger self had overlooked without knowing, like an illegal loan certificate. The iron chain that strangled my neck until the day I died.
I had ultimately failed to pay off that debt. Days when I struggled helplessly, unable to even handle the terrifyingly growing interest let alone the principal, passed like a panorama.
One of the feelings of relief I’d held when throwing my body into that freezing water was the emotion of being freed from that debt. Because it seemed like if I died, that 500 million would also turn to bubbles. Because it seemed like that detestable debt wouldn’t follow me even to the afterlife.
And yet.
“The CEO has experience from the old days of being good at debt collection. So don’t get any stupid ideas, Ijae.”
The CEO said with a smirk.
“If you die, I’ll go find your parents and collect it all. Got it?”
“…What did you just say?”
The vile mouth chewing on a cigarette filter moved slowly within my field of vision.
“Why. Think I can’t do it?”
It felt like all the blood in my body was freezing.
Then what happened after I died? Did he go find my mother who’d been living so hard? Did he bully her just like this, saying she had to pay back the penalty and even interest incurred because her son couldn’t live properly?
“Going to find your mom and squeezing money out of her is nothing. So…”
Malice whispered while spewing acrid smoke.
“If you want to do whatever the fuck you want, pay up—500 million won.”
