Morae, who had been quietly gazing at the tip of my ballpoint pen, reached out with a smile and lightly ruffled my hair. Then, letting that hand drop naturally, she wrapped it around my shoulder and rested her temple against my other shoulder.
We were sitting side by side facing the front of the shop, and thanks to the wide-open folding front window, the street was visible through the green leaves of the plants decorating every corner of the café. Relaxed, exotic music played by a ukulele flowed through the air, and at the front table facing the alley, a group of three or four people who looked about my age were laughing incessantly. It was peaceful.
If my Hyung and Morae opened a café on some southern island, it would probably feel like this.
Open to anyone passing by, not necessarily sophisticated or trendy, but infused with the owner’s tastes and life, with nothing forced about it—a place where, during leisurely hours, you could grab a board and dive straight into the sea right in front.
The final destination of Yeehan and Morae’s escape wasn’t Seoul. Here, they could return to square one at any moment. Thanks to Morae’s fierce letter and the skilled private investigator, they had bought some time, but it wasn’t enough to feel secure.
They had to leave soon for a place with warm weather and waves. That had been their long-standing dream. Since they were much younger, they had belonged only to each other, and through each other, they found the most natural and comfortable way to view the world. This escape was merely one course on the journey toward that dream.
And perhaps that was the crucial reason why I decided to move into Ms. Han’s house.
If I couldn’t decide on a path, the two of them might struggle to leave even after all the preparations were complete. And perhaps they might even suggest that I join them on their journey again. They probably would.
Even though I had come this far with them, I couldn’t keep postponing the choices of my journey to them, like a supplementary appendix to their lives. Even if I were to leave with them, it shouldn’t be an alternative taken simply because I didn’t know what else to do. That much, I knew clearly.
It was one thing I had resolved and prepared for from the moment I stepped out the gate with Yeehan that rainy dawn, leaving behind our father who didn’t hold me back.
Juhan hyung, who was outed in a despicable way and effectively cut off from his family (I couldn’t even imagine how it must have felt to have his most private and hidden aspects exposed to his parents like that), Yuni noona, who, though I didn’t hear the details, had finally taken a difficult step toward her dream after much hardship, only to have it thwarted by none other than her parents—and even Morae and Yeehan , the people closest to me, were harshly paying the price for a choice that held no wrongdoing.
It wasn’t just me—there were others who, regardless of their will, were toyed with, mocked, discarded, and wounded by life’s inexplicable cruelty.
Even the CEO of Phantom, who seemed capable of summoning anything he desired with a mere flick of his finger, must have endured insults like “Satan” or “male prostitute selling his body with paintings” to bring Phantom to where it is today.
An attack that suddenly intruded into life one day.
Whether to overcome it, be dragged down and sink because of it, or accept it as part of oneself—like an eleventh finger or a large lump on the side—and live with it. Now, it was time for me to decide my stance as well.
As far as I knew, Morae and Yeehan hyung, Yuni noona and Juhan hyung, were people who fought back against the attacks. Though their methods and colors differed slightly, they were similar in that no traces of the gloomy injuries left by harsh tackles could be found on their faces.
But the texture the CEO of Phantom possessed was different from theirs.
From the offhand remark Juhan hyung had casually dropped, I could guess that he wasn’t a prince who had only passed through glorious splendor, as smooth as his appearance. So, perhaps he wasn’t someone who had leaped over life’s attacks but rather someone who embraced them as part of himself and lived with them. Like someone attacked by a zombie becoming a zombie themselves?
He often treated me with sharp wariness, but at other times, he acted as if I were nobody, as though no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t harm anyone—a trivial existence.
The turbulence that arose in my chest whenever he provoked me with inconsiderate looks and words lacked the sharp edges to be called defiance and wasn’t fragile enough to be mere disappointment.
Originally, I was the type to turn away when someone cursed at me or got angry. Had I been misunderstanding myself all this time?
“Noona, did I used to like strange things?”
Perhaps others might know a side of me that I had misunderstood or overlooked. As I filled the paper more densely, I asked Morae.
“A bit, yeah?”
“Me?”
Surprised by the unexpected answer, I reflexively asked back. Morae lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at my face.
“You like Monggu the most among the Crayon Shin-chan characters, right? Not many people do that. And your t-shirts. You always wear stripes, don’t you? Short sleeves in summer, long sleeves in winter—but all stripes. You’re subtly unique. Among people who draw, there are a lot of unique ones too.”
“It’s been ages since I last drew…”
“Ah… So now you’re not drawing but writing, is that it?”
Embarrassed by the accurate observation, I pressed my lips together and laughed, avoiding her gaze. This is just doodling…
“Then… do I like being bullied? Is that my style?”
“Where did you hear such things? Are you talking about masochism?”
“What? Who taught you that crap?”
Yeehan, who was coming out of the kitchen with plates of nasi goreng, frowned at the word “masochist.”
Since tomorrow was the day I was moving into Ms. Han’s house, Morae and Yeehan had called me to ‘What Happened in Bali’ for a sort of farewell gathering. It felt awkward to have a farewell gathering when I wasn’t quitting a job or transferring schools, but even if I pretended not to attach much meaning to it, I too felt sad about this parting.
The nasi goreng at ‘What Happened in Bali’ was rice stir-fried with chicken breast in a secret sauce—a seemingly simple combination, yet it kept drawing me back. Even after finishing work at the moving company, I’d end up devouring two bowls of plain rice with just kimchi on the spot.
Yeehan looked as if he were about to grab the collar of whoever taught me such harmful words like “masochist.”
“What’s wrong with teaching that stuff? He’s a full-fledged adult. Whatever he does under the covers with a willing partner is a matter of personal freedom.”
That was Morae’s rebuttal.
No matter how much Morae and Yeehan thought of me as a rare species disconnected from the world, I was old enough to know about sadism and masochism just from picking up bits and pieces here and there, without anyone specifically teaching me.
Taking the utensils Yeehan handed me, I urged Morae.
“So, noona… am I like that?”
I knew better than to expect an objective answer from Yeehan anyway.
“Hmm, rather than enjoying it, it’s more like you don’t really care even if you’re bullied? Since you don’t react much, you’re the type that doesn’t give bullies much satisfaction.”
I agreed with Morae’s assessment. Until now, I had thought of myself as that kind of person—somewhat indifferent to the point of being dull. At least, that’s how I believed I had become.
But my recent reactions felt unfamiliar even to me.
「I’m gay, by the way.」
The audacious remark, something hardly expected from the me of not long ago, was almost akin to a provocation.
“Why? Is someone bullying you and it’s giving you thrills?”
Morae, with her elbows on the table, leaned her upper body closer toward me as I was about to take a bite and asked. Her face was full of playfulness and curiosity.
“No… it’s not like that.”
There were times when it stung sharply, as if someone had poked under my fingernail with a needle, but it was different from a thrill. It was similar to the feeling of your whole body jolting and lifting, like going over a speed bump without slowing down. At times, a childish spite arose, making me want to take his hand and poke under his fingernail with a needle tip too.
Just as his attitude toward me was inconsistent, I too found it difficult to pinpoint the reason for my reactions in one direction.
With hunger surging, I no longer had the energy to think about anything else. I began eating hastily, while Morae and Hyung sorted the day’s receipts at the next table.
The owner of ‘What Happened in Bali,’ who planned to travel to the real Bali and enjoy surfing once a certain amount of money was saved, had left for Bali since last week, so during that time, Morae and Yeehan were acting managers here.
By the time I had almost emptied my plate, Yeehan spoke in a voice slightly softer than before.
“Even if you’re living on your own, come visit. Come here, and come home too.”
“Of course. I’ll come so often it’ll be annoying. Where else would I go to spill my stories if not here?”
“Funny. You’re not even that talkative.”
Hyung chuckled lightly and gave a mild reproach, and in agreement, I laughed back.
“You have to come at least once a week. Got it? And send a text every day, without fail.”
This time, it was Morae’s threat. I knew it wasn’t for her sake but a demand born from worry that I might feel lonely. When I nodded emphatically, Morae smiled.
That day, we drank soju with samgyeopsal at ‘What Happened in Bali,’ and when we got home, we drank more beer. It was a small luxury for us, the first time we’d indulged since coming to Seoul. It was also the first time I had drunk enough to get properly drunk, beyond just tipsy.
I only found out the next day from Morae and Hyung that I become very docile and laugh a lot when I’m drunk. Yeehan said I even gave Morae a peck on the cheek, and, rarely asserting his rights as Morae’s lover, he kicked my butt with his knee.
There wasn’t much to move, but since it was moving day, I had taken the day off from my moving company job too. We all had breakfast together, I packed all my belongings into one backpack, and I left the house with Morae and Yeehan , parting ways at the bus stop. I headed south to go to Ms. Han’s house, while Morae and Yeehan went west to work at ‘What Happened in Bali.’
The rooftop room and ‘What Happened in Bali’ were both places I could visit anytime if I wanted, but now they would become places I had to make an effort to go to.
As I got on the bus and watched the receding street scenery, it felt strange to be moving somewhere alone, separated from Yeehan and Morae. It felt less like moving and more like setting off on a journey. A very long journey.
Leave a Reply