It was something I heard from a third party—Morae, who had never even met him. And it wasn’t about me as a romantic interest, but about my art. Still, to hear that he was completely taken with a part of me was, frankly, nice to hear.
Before I could even experience things like clumsily falling for someone, feeling the flutter of excitement, and sharing the rhythm of a heart beating differently from the everyday… I had grown afraid of my emotional world expanding and deliberately dulled my own heart. Thanks to that, I came to possess dry, meager emotions, unmoved by whatever I saw or heard.
It wasn’t the same as being strongly disciplined. Rather, it was closer to having made myself barren, depleting the very material needed to feel and savor things richly.
It was strange, this moisture that seeped so wetly into my parched sensibilities.
What’s more, I wasn’t at all optimistic about a future with him, nor did I have the confidence to act for an optimistic conclusion. Yet my ability to find reasons to sustain my feelings for him moment by moment was admirable.
Morae, sitting with her knees drawn up on the sofa, stared blankly at the label of her beer bottle and mumbled, half to herself.
“They say meeting someone who recognizes your talent is as important as the talent itself. It’s a relief.”
Her murmur, which seemed to leave out the words, that you met someone like that before we leave, reminded me of our impending, unreal-feeling separation, which was now just a day away.
“Since we’re moving out before the contract is up, it looks like we’ll have to cover the realtor’s fee the landlord has to pay for the next tenants. We should get a little less than 30 million won back. Let’s pay back your CEO with that first, and since we’ll both be getting jobs as soon as we arrive in Bali, I’ll send you a little bit every month. I’m going to look for an instructor position at a surfing camp run by a Korean. They’ll probably give us preferential treatment since we’re planning a long-term stay.”
She added that three able-bodied people in their twenties could surely pay back 70 million won in no time, so I shouldn’t be agonizing over money and should just focus on my art. Morae then smiled as if she knew exactly what I was worried about and lightly ruffled my hair.
Morae was the person who had stayed by my side ever since that vague and bewildering time when I didn’t know what to do with my own existence.
His words, which had grasped me as well as Morae did, were still amazing to think back on. I didn’t know if it was his age or his innate intuition, but it was all the more so because he knew I wasn’t the type to open up and offer information about myself.
“Your CEO helped us so we could do this, didn’t he? To create an environment where you could paint without any worries. Whether it’s because he’s a personal fan of your art or because of his business instincts as a gallery owner, he must have decided you were worth the investment. So you just think about your art. Oh, and please keep it a secret from the CEO that I initially suspected he might be in cahoots with my dad.”
I let out a small laugh at Morae’s last comment, but her words contained something I couldn’t overlook.
Whether he had been so proactive in this matter because of personal feelings, a business mindset, or a more complex mix of reasons. The problem was that for me, this wasn’t something that could be casually brushed aside with an “either way.”
As I unconsciously tilted my beer bottle, taking in the appetizing smell of garlic and chili peppers frying in oil wafting from the kitchen, I suddenly wanted to ask Morae about it.
If I consulted Juhan-Hyung or Yuni-Noona, they would instantly figure out who I was talking about, but with Morae, who had never even met him, the damage would be minimal even if she did figure it out. At the very least, I wouldn’t have to be fidgeting in front of both him and Morae at the same time.
“Noona.”
I began, my tone rather solemn, as I pushed at the beer label that had gone soft and wrinkled from the condensation on the bottle.
“If… someone’s parents had to go through something a little… difficult because of them, and they feel guilty about it, they’d probably be skeptical about dating or love, right?”
I immediately regretted being so direct.
“I mean. Like, they might have physical relationships, but they’d draw a line when it comes to getting any deeper than that….”
My heart felt like it was clogging my throat, as tense as if I were confessing to him directly, but I knew it was a meaningless, futile effort. What could I possibly confirm by asking her, a complete stranger to him?
“It’s the same for me. For me too… becoming a special someone to one person… and sharing everything with them… it’s scary.”
That was why I was also scared of Morae and Hyung breaking up. The destructive power that arises when a deep connection is severed is immense, proportional to the empathy shared when together. I couldn’t help my shrinking body and mind, even if I was criticized as a coward who couldn’t even start for fear of an end that hadn’t yet come. I had the experience of my very core being struck by that destructive power. In the end, it was all past experience that made me either dive toward a target or run away from it.
“But isn’t this you saying you’re drawn to him anyway, even though it’s scary?”
“Uh… huh?”
“I’m asking if you’re asking this because you’re still drawn to that person.”
“……”
Morae’s face was nonchalant as she asked. I hadn’t even said I was drawn to this person, yet she asked as if she were completely certain of it. It seemed useless to deny it, so I just barely managed to nod, my face likely flushed red.
“Then, couldn’t it be the same for him? Just like you can’t help but be interested in that person despite your own instability… couldn’t a person appear for him, too, someone he comes to want and pursue, enough to overcome his skepticism and break down his own lines?”
They say romantic feelings aren’t an ornament placed atop a tower built of logic. He, too, could be swept up in passion, even if he didn’t want to be. But the idea that I could be the one to shake and break him down like that—for some reason, that was hard to imagine.
“To be honest, I’m scared too.”
At Morae’s suddenly lowered voice, as if she were conscious of someone listening, I turned to look at her face to see if I had misheard, but she seemed too lost in thought to notice my gaze.
“A moment ago, I talked as if I was confident I wouldn’t be swayed by a mere whim of the heart, but like the old man said, hearts can change, and no one can be certain about the future. Whatever ending awaits, I won’t regret the choice itself, but that doesn’t mean I’m not at all afraid of the pain that choice might bring. Whether it’s the sense of loss from a breakup with Seo Yeehan, or the guilt toward my family….”
Morae took a couple of sips of her beer, then looked down at the papers scattered messily on the table—printouts of the materials he had sent—and continued.
“In the end, I think what’s important is figuring out what’s more painful for you. Just as for me, the act of not fully examining my own desires and leaving my choices in others’ hands is itself a pain, for someone else, the vagueness of not having guaranteed safety might be more painful. No matter what the general indicators are, each person’s actual sense of happiness or pain is different. It might not be that they’re not scared, but that it’s a choice to avoid something even scarier.”
A smell that was getting closer and closer to a finished dish wafted from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath of the scent, she turned to me and grinned. It was an ominous grin.
“But hey, is this about Mr. Rabbit?”
Fire instantly ignited on my face and earlobes, making it impossible to deny. This lack of experience and the personality that couldn’t cover for it, which gave a more honest answer than words ever could, wasn’t a flaw that only showed itself in front of him.
I thought that I had to hide this from Yuni-Noona and Juhan-Hyung at all costs, and my body trembled slightly with a faint terror at what would happen if they found out.
“Hmm, I see…. So that’s what it was.”
She muttered words of unknown meaning, her eyes narrowing into a sly smile. I couldn’t tell what she was acknowledging, but I didn’t have the courage to ask for details, afraid it would lead to more questions about me.
“What a shame. It’s our Seo Yeehyeon’s first love, and I have to leave without even seeing his face.”
After that, Morae didn’t press any further.
But as sweet as her guess that he was completely taken with my art had been, her definition of this feeling as a “first love” was just bewildering.
The impression the words “first love” gave was somehow different from a second or third love.
Clumsy, but for that very reason, honest and fresh, like crashing into someone with your whole, unguarded self—the phrase was like a tender leaf that couldn’t possibly sprout from a withered branch. A dry laugh escaped me, like when you discover your own absurd mistake.
I’m not trying to spout nonsense about falling in love with him after just a few nights together and a handful of conversations. The love I envision isn’t such a simple concept.
But this feeling had the potential to develop into love. And love was still the change I feared most. Yet I wasn’t reining it in at all. For the foolish reason that it didn’t hurt right now.
If his eyes and words toward me had been as indifferent as they were at first, I would have hardened and withered myself to stop this feeling from growing, if only to avoid the immediate pain.
He had told me to text him before bed, but I wanted to call. I wanted to hear his voice, to see his face. I wanted to hold him, to touch his bare skin, his heat. And I wanted to confess these feelings to him.
I imagine actually putting the confession into action. The scene that unfolds in the next frame of my imagination is his troubled face, forcing an awkward smile and averting his gaze.
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