Because he was a hyung who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him for a long time as both an actor and producer, even this kind of joke was merely trivial. Sunbae Kim continued speaking.
“Do you know the concept of synchronicity?”
“Synchronicity? No, what is it?”
“It’s when you desperately want something, the world follows that sincere heart and gives you a coincidence as a gift. For instance, you desperately wanted to see someone and an opportunity to run into that person arises, or an item you wanted to buy happens to be on sale for 50% off on a street you’re passing by. If you just practice catching those kinds of luck without letting them pass by, you’ll discover synchronicity in big and small parts of life.”
“Ooh….”
“Rather than supernatural phenomena like hallucinations or déjà vu, wasn’t it something like that? Because your desire to perform well was so great, the world gifted you strange moments similar to the play’s content. If you understand it that way, it doesn’t seem like a big worry, does it?”
It wasn’t a concept he fully understood, but it seemed plausible. As Yeon Cheonguk repeatedly let out sounds of admiration, Sunbae Kim playfully flicked the bridge of his nose.
“Not bad, right?”
“What is?”
“Everything’s good these days, right? You’re happy, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
There’s no reason not to be happy. I have the stage, fame, and success.
“After you broke up before, there’s been no news of romance at all. Hasn’t it been about two years?”
“You remember my solo period that I don’t even count?”
“I’m your number one fan. I remember that kind of thing without counting.”
Yeon Cheonguk chuckled while rubbing the rim of his whiskey glass.
His side must feel empty. Seeing how he even has the illusion that someone is beside him.
***
Even as summer was ending, the trumpet creepers remained upright. The vermillion petals bloomed profusely as if praising summer. They say a belated typhoon might pass through soon, but even on the eve of the storm, they seem to have not a care in the world.
On holidays, he checks in at the used bookstore. While Seoul has many famous used bookstores, the place Yeon Cheonguk frequents is a nameless spot in a corner alley of the neighborhood. It was perfect as a hideout because it’s a bookstore that brings in a lot of comic books.
Yeon Cheonguk, heavily armed with a hat and mask, threw open the old door. The familiar smell of dust and paper assaulted his nose.
“Do you have anything new, boss?”
“The big celebrity is here? I heard you’d be busy going into the main performance?”
He’s an indescribably cynical old man. Yeon Cheonguk responded languidly.
“Our boss must be happy to see me. You’re quite talkative today.”
The old man grumbled excitedly.
“I don’t know how you know to come find me like a ghost when I brought in a box yesterday. You come and suck out only the essence. You don’t even advertise on the internet with that famous face of yours, but you completely suck the essence out of this bookstore.”
“Boss, isn’t a vampire who spends a hundred thousand, two hundred thousand won every time he comes for several years quite welcome?”
“I might be happy if you didn’t make such a show of it!”
“Hahaha. I hope our boss stays healthy for life. So we can bicker like this often.”
“What’s the point of having fun alone, I’m not having any fun at all.”
“Hahaha!”
“The only fun thing is listening to your voice.”
As Yeon Cheonguk was flipping through the piles of old manga—Full House, Detective Conan—that remark made his playful side emerge.
He went in front of the cash register, cupped his chin with both hands, and grinned.
“Boss, do you like my voice that much? Bring your ear close.”
“Don’t bother me, go away. Don’t come within a 1-meter radius.”
“Why? I’ll treat your ears well. And if approach within 1 meter is prohibited, how am I supposed to pay?”
“Transfer it to my account.”
As Yeon Cheonguk stood up with a “tsk,” the old bookstore keeper continued his scolding.
“You should whisper to a rabbit-like young lady, why are you making a fuss here? Disgusting.”
“I don’t have a rabbit-like young lady, phew.”
“That doesn’t mean you should go around whispering anywhere!”
“……”
‘Don’t go around whispering anywhere.’
I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere…..
Déjà vu, or synchronicity? As Yeon Cheonguk tilted his head, he discovered a small silver box on the cluttered cash register desk.
He picked up the flat box and opened the lid. Yeon Cheonguk soon realized what the object was.
An electronic dictionary! It was a nostalgic item he had completely forgotten about.
He pulled down his mask and smiled brightly, feeling pleased.
“Boss, is this yours?”
“What would I do with it when I even have my phone font size maxed out to see? It got mixed in when someone brought books before.”
“Wow… does this work?”
“It does. Besides that, there were a few MP3 players, radio cassettes, and old computers, so I took them all. I got them on moving day from an old house.”
The old man recited a familiar neighborhood name as if boasting.
“Really? That’s right near the house I lived in when I was in school.”
He was even more pleased to hear a neighborhood name after so long.
“The funny thing is it came out from under the linoleum under the bed.”
“What?”
“Someone lifted the linoleum and hid it there. Really, nothing better to do……”
To hide an old electronic dictionary that had become merely a nostalgic item, a vintage prop, with such effort. The previous owner of this dictionary must have been quite a unique fellow. He laughed imagining a test-taker from the early to mid-2000s wearing a school uniform and carrying around an electronic dictionary.
Seeing the many scratches on the earphone jack, it seemed like they listened to music often too. A playful thought occurred to him.
“I wonder if they stored some dirty videos that absolutely couldn’t be discovered?”
“Is that the wicked imagination of Korea’s representative musical actor?”
“Ah, but I’m curious.”
“I was also curious about what was in it, so I turned it on, but there’s a password. Even when I tried to reset it, it was the same. The only way is to format the memory to initialize it, but it’s too bothersome so I was going to throw it away….”
Yeon Cheonguk suddenly interrupted, following the command of his intuition. It was an instantaneous action with no room for rational judgment to intervene.
“Give it to me, boss.”
It was a statement that came from an instinctive realm, so even he was flustered. He had no idea why he did that, but he wanted to. It seemed a waste to just throw that thing away.
“Huh? What for?”
“I’ll try cracking the password. It’ll be fun.”
When he entered his home, the home AI turned on the lights in the living room and kitchen for him.
– Ding. Laundry drying is complete.
– There were no visitors while you were away.
– The humidity is high. Shall I activate the air conditioner’s dehumidifying mode?
“No, it’s fine. Play classical music on the TV.”
After finishing his shower, Yeon Cheonguk took out a bottle of wine from the large wine cellar and sat on the sofa. Today’s entertainment was the electronic dictionary. He stroked the exterior that clearly showed signs of long use.
To be this excited about unlocking the past of an old electronic dictionary. He must have been bored from living alone in this spacious house overlooking the Han River for too long.
When he pressed the power button, a lock screen appeared just as the bookstore keeper had said.
<Please enter password>
___ ___ ___ ___
The password is 4 digits.
First, he tried pressing random numbers at random. It couldn’t possibly work. A warning window saying it was an incorrect password kept appearing.
As Yeon Cheonguk let out a deep sigh, he discovered a strange number displayed at the top of the dictionary.
August 19, 2681 AM 02:17
“2681? Hey, did you live hundreds of years alone? I’ve never seen an error like this before.”
In 2681, humanity might be communicating with aliens. Isn’t that over 600 years in the future from now?
Anyway, what kind of number would a high school student set as a password?
Birthday, college entrance exam date, anniversary with a girlfriend.
Lost in thought, Yeon Cheonguk chuckled. He remembered his high school days when he became the school’s star and received a shower of confessions after singing on the school trip.
He had dated the prettiest and brightest girl among those who confessed to him. They took lots of photo stickers together, but none remain now. She was his first love, probably?
She was his first love… probably.
Right. That must be right.
He looked at the picture frame on the table, trying to recall the faded memory. A photo taken with his parents, his first debut performance photo, his high school graduation photo….
Yeon Cheonguk in his school uniform in the photo looks young and plain. He’s full of youthfulness incomparable to now, at a mature age where he can’t claim to be part of the MZ generation.
Suddenly, it didn’t feel real. Is that prickly yet innocent kid in the photo really me?
He had climbed to the highest position he could reach as a musical actor. He advanced to Broadway and seized success and glory. Applause, trophies, and money naturally followed. He could buy everything at the highest grade—what he ate, what he wore, where he lived, the appliances and furniture within reach. The present of successful musical actor Yeon Cheonguk was happy beyond measure.
However,
A loneliness of being isolated alone in this manufactured reality occasionally stabbed at his heart.
……Has the time come when I need a family? Being this empty, I even have the illusion that someone is beside me.
It was when he was gulping down wine with a bitter face. The window opened forcefully and a strong wind rushed in.
“Aaaah!”
He tried to grab the wine bottle that was tilting as if it would fall, but ended up dropping the electronic dictionary. It seems a late typhoon really is coming. To throw open a window that was perfectly closed.
He barely prevented the wine bottle and glass from breaking, but the damp strong wind shook the inside of the house greatly once more.
“Hey!”
Yeon Cheonguk, witnessing the picture frame hanging on the wall shaking, raised his voice toward the innocent wind. In the commotion, he almost stepped on the electronic dictionary.
It was as if the wind was desperately trying to destroy the electronic dictionary.
The state of the electronic dictionary that fell on the floor was terrible. From the impact of the fall, the battery cover had separated, and one battery had bounced out and was rolling around under the table.
Despite the wind’s interference, Yeon Cheonguk patiently picked up the separated parts and assembled them. He blew on the rusty battery, fitted it back in, and was about to close the cover last when something reflected on the glass table.
“……?”
Yeon Cheonguk brought his face close to the glass. There was writing on the inside of the small battery cover.
It seemed the owner had written their name in small letters with a permanent marker. He almost missed it. Yeon Cheonguk read the writing with an interested expression.
Hwang Jegu.
What a tacky name.
It must be an electronic dictionary that a student named Hwang Jegu used.
The strange familiarity must be because of the tacky feeling. Anyway, this was good. It was a clue to unlocking the password.
As he tried to properly read the rest of the content, the Chinese character written before the name belatedly caught his eye.
故 Hwang Jegu.
His brow furrowed and narrowed. Yeon Cheonguk continued reading the rest of the writing below the name.
“Stu… pid…?”
故 Hwang Jegu.
Goddamn stupid.
Died August 19, 2009.
