Doyun handed Eunho a bottle of beer as he spoke. Eunho let out a low laugh and, instead of answering, clinked his bottle against Doyun’s.
“So, is dating your biggest interest these days?”
Eunho drank his beer — he’d sampled the snacks Doyun offered one by one, but they didn’t seem to suit his taste much.
“No, I wouldn’t call it my biggest interest.”
“Then what is it?”
At Eunho’s question, Doyun turned his head and stared out the window. The buildings and the bridge stretching over the sea glittered here and there, but the sea with night settled over it was simply pitch black.
“That was just a passing thing because of the others. Lately it’s just… when I think about what’s ahead, it feels complicated.”
“What do you mean, what’s ahead?”
“Just… I have to start building my résumé, prepare for job hunting, all of that.”
Doyun took a sip of his beer as he said it. He’d been telling himself he needed to worry about credentials and employment ever since he started university — but now that time had passed and he looked back, he hadn’t done much aside from keeping his grades up. There wasn’t much time left, and there was so much to do; all he felt was restlessness.
“Oh, for the exchange student program — have you finalized the ranking of schools you want to apply to?”
“No, not yet. God, Na Minjun bailed on me so now I’m going alone.”
He’d attended the exchange student information session, but hadn’t really made up his mind about anything. He was still going back and forth between Europe and America. Or maybe he should go somewhere completely out of the ordinary — somewhere he’d never get to visit at any other time in his life.
“Put Chicago as your first choice. If you get in as an exchange student, I’ll take a leave of absence and go with you.”
From the moment Doyun mentioned possibly going on exchange, Eunho had been singing Chicago, Chicago, like a broken record. It was a city where Eunho had lived for a relatively long stretch during his time in the States, and also a city he visited every year since his father had settled there.
“What if I don’t get into Chicago? And why would you take a leave of absence?”
“I just… I’d been wanting to take a semester off anyway. Chicago would be great, but anywhere else is fine too. Look at this. I have this car in America. A vintage Mustang.”
Eunho dragged his chair over next to Doyun and opened his phone gallery, showing him a picture of a car. On the screen was a Ford vintage Mustang produced in the ’60s. The dark green car looked so well-maintained that it gleamed even more than modern cars.
“Wow, are you serious. That’s insane…. Hey, they sell things like that?”
“I got lucky and found it on my last trip out there. If the weather’s nice, let’s take it out somewhere. Want to take it for the East Coast trip? The roads are completely open, so you can drive.”
Eunho swiped through a few more photos and showed him several different cars. From a heavy-duty off-road vehicle to sports cars — a whole lineup of cars you’d rarely see on ordinary roads.
“Unreal. How many cars are in that garage? No way…. Incredible. Oh my god. Are all of these your dad’s?”
“Yeah, but he barely drives them. Want to see the key collection? You can pick any one you want here. I was worried you wouldn’t get to travel much if you went to America for exchange. Having a car beats Europe, don’t you think?”
The last photo Eunho showed him was the inside of a drawer where car keys were kept. Inside a clear glass drawer in a dressing room were keys stamped with the logos of prestigious car brands. Doyun squinted and let out a sound of awe as he looked at the keys — not neatly displayed in rows, but tangled and piled every which way.
“It’s not even my car, why would I be picking one to drive. I’m still deciding between Europe and America.”
“Ah…. My dad’s girlfriend’s daughter is turning a year older now, apparently she’s getting a new car. Her old one’s been around for a while, so you can use it secondhand. Drive it while you’re there, then sell it to the next exchange student or whoever else before you come back to Korea. I’ll help you with the selling part.”
“Should I…? How old is the car? I think up to around 1.5 million won would be okay.”
“Yeah, I’ll ask.”
Eunho nodded and set down his now-empty beer bottle. Before they knew it, all the beer Eunho had bought was gone. It was a little unfortunate, but it hadn’t been a small amount — Doyun felt a pleasant, light buzz settling in. Eunho must have felt the same, because he went to the minibar and pulled out one more can of beer. He sat back down, took a sip, and held the rest out to Doyun. Doyun pushed Eunho’s hand away and declined.
“Ugh, I think I drank too much — I’m getting drunk. Hey, did you know if your liver enzyme levels are too high they can send you home after enlistment? Isn’t that terrifying? Taking a leave of absence only to come back home….”
“Are you planning to enlist with the others at the same time?”
“I don’t know yet. I might take the exam and go into the Air Force….”
Doyun exhaled quietly. Until now, he hadn’t thought too much about his military service — but maybe because it kept creeping closer to reality, lately whenever the topic of the military came up, he felt a heaviness in his chest like something was blocking him up inside.
“What am I supposed to do when you leave.”
While Doyun was sighing, an even more troubled voice came from Eunho beside him. Doyun picked up the beer Eunho had set on the table and took a sip.
“Isn’t there a commuter post?”
Eunho, who was exempt from military service as a phenotype, had somehow picked up quite a bit of knowledge on the subject.
“A local service position? You have to have a child to apply for that. But becoming a dad at this age just to commute to the military is overkill. I keep saying, manifesting as an alpha to get an exemption would be way better… but phenotypes get taxed a lot, don’t they…?”
The local service position, which required being a head of household, had absolutely no relevance to Doyun. As Doyun muttered to himself, Eunho said flatly,
“True. And you’re not that fond of kids anyway.”
“Me? No I’m not — I love kids. They’re cute.”
Doyun shook his head at Eunho’s words. He had a sense of déjà vu — he felt like they’d had a similar conversation before.
“I thought you said something like that last time…. You place so much more importance on job hunting and your future career. Even right now, you’re thinking and worrying far more about your own future than anything like having children.”
“The reason I think about finding a job and all that is so that I can eventually build a stable family down the road. When I think about it like that — doesn’t life feel genuinely complicated?”
Eunho, who had been listening to Doyun, closed his eyes and opened them again, running a hand over the back of his head. There was a trace of irritation in his expression. Eunho tossed the last few snacks into the trash and said to Doyun,
“…I’m tired, let’s go to sleep now. I’ll clean up here, so go lie down on the bed first.”
At Eunho’s words, Doyun turned around and headed for the bed. He’d had quite a bit to drink sitting there — his steps swayed just slightly. Doyun flopped down on the bed and called over to Eunho,
“Should I turn off the light?”
“Give me a second, let me just put away the leftover drinks…. Oh, Doyun.”
Eunho rustled around putting away the remaining snacks and bottles, then called out to him.
“What.”
“What do I do? The clothes you’re wearing tomorrow are all wet….”
***
Absurdly refreshing, was the thought Doyun had as he slowly opened his eyes. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the full-length window that looked out over the sea. He felt good. Simple as it was, good was the only word that came to mind.
Every summer he used to go play in the water with his friends, but this year there hadn’t been a chance. Playing and splashing around in the water with just Eunho felt like finally completing some annual ritual — albeit late — and it left him feeling oddly refreshed.
“Is the laundry done yet?”
Doyun asked Eunho in a voice still thick with sleep. Last night, Eunho had properly spilled beer all over Doyun’s t-shirt. When Doyun said they could just rinse it off and blow-dry it, Eunho had said if we’re going that far, I might as well just send it to the laundry service, and disappeared with the clothes.
Why go to all that trouble, Doyun had thought before falling asleep — so naturally the first thing on his mind when he woke up was the whereabouts of his t-shirt.
“The first thing you ask about in the morning is your t-shirt? You can’t even say good morning to me first?”
Eunho, who had been lying on his side facing Doyun, asked with a look of mild hurt on his face.
“Did you sleep well?”
“…So-so.”
Eunho was lying on his side propped up on his elbow, and he reached out to ruffle Doyun’s hair. He seemed to have just finished showering — Eunho’s hair was still damp. Water droplets fell slowly from the ends of his hair, which was a slightly light shade of brown. When Doyun fixed his messed-up hair and looked straight ahead, Eunho’s face had gotten a full handspan closer.
“…Move your face.”
“Why should I.”
Because you’re too close. Instead of the honest answer, Doyun pressed his palm against Eunho’s face and pushed. The distance widened by exactly the length of Doyun’s outstretched arm. Even when Eunho playfully tried to close the gap again, Doyun kept maintaining exactly that distance.
“Because you’re ugly.”
“Liar.”
