Hyun Ji-young didn’t get home until late evening again today.
“Son, Mom’s home!”
Ordinarily her boy would come scampering out like a puppy to greet her, yet tonight there wasn’t even a hint of movement.
Is his department party running late?
She opened the door to his room just in case and saw him staring at a box on his desk, lost in thought.
“Sweetie, what are you doing?”
“Didn’t even hear you come in…”
Sensing that Min-woo looked oddly down, Ji-young hurried to his side.
“Something wrong?”
“No… it’s nothing.”
“Oh my, what’s this?”
What yanked her gaze at once was a still-shrink-wrapped AppBook Pro box.
“Mom certainly doesn’t remember buying you an AppBook. Where’d that come from?”
“Hyuna handed them out at the department get-together today…”
“Hyuna? You mean the girl you broke up with not long ago?”
When her son nodded yes, her tone sharpened.
“Did she give you this and ask to get back together?”
“No. Hyuna doesn’t even want to talk to me now…”
“Then why would she hand you such an expensive gadget?”
“I’m telling you, she gave one to everyone at the party.”
Unbelieving, Ji-young pressed again.
“Didn’t you say her dad was sick at home and her brother was just an office worker?”
“I don’t really know the details, Mom.”
“How can you not know? Weren’t you the one moaning you’d die if you couldn’t introduce her?”
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore. How am I supposed to know?”
“Noh Min-woo, are you raising your voice to the one mother you have over some girl?”
“Sorry. Just… could you leave me alone tonight?”
“Fine. One last question. Did she pass out AppBook Pros to everyone there?”
Min-woo clutched his head and barked: “Mom, please—!”
“Honestly, raising a son is thankless!”
Driven out of his room, Ji-young stomped off toward the master bedroom.
“Hmph.”
Once her anger cooled, an unsolved puzzle began gnawing at her.
“He said about thirty people show up to those parties…”
Where had that Hyuna girl found the money to hand every single classmate an AppBook Pro?
These aren’t cheap ten-grand laptops. Each runs around three million won.
Thirty of them means at least ninety million won (approximately 65,000 USD).
The father’s at home with health issues, the brother’s some regular office worker…
Where on earth did that kind of cash appear? She had said they lived in the Sygni Apartments in Hanadong, but still…
Could she be a chaebol daughter?
Ji-young shook her head.
No way…
Everything Hyuna wore: bag, clothes, shoes, and wallet had been completely ordinary student stuff.
Did she win first prize in the lottery?
Even then, who would blow nearly a hundred million on classmates?
Rubbing her chin, Ji-young muttered,
“Should’ve asked exactly what that older brother makes…”
Truly, a mystery.
Next day.
Looking at the barrage of texts from his little sister, Hyunseung grinned broadly.
[Oppa, when are you coming home?]
[Will you be back tonight?]
[Come home even if it’s late.]
Apparently overwhelmed by his “surprise gift,” Hyuna wanted to thank him face-to-face.
No need for such fuss…
Granted, he had dropped a hefty sum, around a hundred million won. A “thank you” was fair.
Maybe next time I’ll tone it down, send a gourmet bento truck to campus or hand out wireless earbuds…
Knock, knock, knock.
While he was pondering, Manager Kim burst into the studio shouting,
“Et-chis—!”
“There we go again…”
Hyunseung shook his head. It must mean “A.N.P” had reclaimed no.1 today.
Indeed, Kim had started calling him “Choi Jihyun” on days Jihyun was first, and “Et-chis” when HS topped the chart. Tomorrow, he’d probably stride in triumphantly with “Jihyun!”
“Hey, just checking. Do you have a thing for motorbikes?”
“Why?”
“We got offered a motorcycle sponsorship.”
Bike… Hyunseung murmured. Kim’s eyes lit with hope.
One must crush such hopes firmly.
“I’ve got a car. What would I ride one for?”
Kim, who’d hoped to get at least a test ride, pouted.
“No sense of romance, I swear.”
Licking his fingertip, he flipped a page in his pocket notebook.
“I assume TV’s out of the question, right?”
“Naturally.”
“How about visible radio?”
“No.”
“What if it’s Kim Gwang-jin’s long-running show?”
At that, Hyunseung couldn’t refuse outright. He sighed.
Kim Gwang-jin was an “antique yet unique-voiced” instrument he wished to keep collaborating with, one who’d already helped him a lot.
For his age, he even did the challenge…
“Helmet allowed, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll… think about it.”
Kim actually gasped in delight and quickly tried another tack.
“We also got a helmet sponsorship. Maybe swap—”
“No.”
Shot down before finishing the sentence.
“Figured. Come on, let’s eat.”
That, at least, sounded good; they headed for the cafeteria.
“Menu’s salmon sushi with cold soba!”
The moment he heard that, Hyunseung practically sprouted boosters and sprinted off, ignoring Kim’s “Wait for me!”
“Huh?”
He pulled up short at the buffet line.
“What is it?”
“There.”
“What ‘there’?”
Scanning the spread with bright eyes, Hyunseung smiled.
Soon he resolved that next time he’d send a Korean-buffet food truck to his sister’s campus party.
For Hyuna, campus life now split neatly into “before” and “after” the department gathering.
“Got home okay after the party?”
“Let me treat you to cafeteria lunch!”
“Want to join our club?”
Word that she’d handed out AppBooks had spread instantaneously; people who’d never spoken to her turned syrupy-sweet, openly pushing to be friends.
Even buddies pried into her family finances, leaving her awkward.
Worse, since it leaked that the giver was her brother, tons begged for introductions.
“What does your dad do?”
“Does your brother run a company?”
“Is he seeing anyone?”
All that was headache enough on top of texts from her ex that rattled her nerves.
— Mom’s making something good—want to come over?
— We can study, eat, talk like we used to.
By day’s end, her energy was drained.
She’d kept meaning to talk to her brother. By luck, the right time came.
The siblings sat down to eat for the first time in ages.
“Didn’t you say you wanted something tasty?”
“Yeah…”
“Then why the long face in front of food?”
Poking her steaming rice with chopsticks, Hyuna began hesitantly.
“About those AppBooks you gave out…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I’m grateful, really. But it’s… overwhelming.”
“Should I have handed out shrimp burgers to grown adults instead?”
“No, I mean you don’t have to hand out anything.”
Hyunseung was startled. He hadn’t expected this reaction.
“It was so you’d fit in, make friends.”
“I’m not a kid. I’ll be fine. Please, no more gifts like that.”
Too much interference?
“And AppBooks aren’t pocket change. Thirty-one of them?”
Or too expensive?
“I love that we don’t worry about money thanks to you. But sometimes the excess makes me feel distanced from people.”
Ah, clearly other complications had piled up lately.
Swallowing his bite, he quietly asked,
“Something happened, didn’t it? You seemed off before.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Did you break up because you’re ‘too well off’?”
She bit her lip. Yes, she’d broken up, but for the exact opposite reason.
She explained only part: that Min-woo’s mother had suggested they stay “just friends” after hearing her dad “doesn’t work” and her brother is “just an employee”.
She left out how that mother, after the lavish gifts, had suddenly invited her over and how awful that felt; and how the ex, oblivious, relayed it all and shattered her fond memories.
No point upsetting Oppa.
Yet his face had gone ice-cold. She’d grown up with that face, but never got used to it.
“Hyuna.”
The chill in his voice sliced like a winter gale.
“That mother’s the Charom salon director, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Thought so. Should’ve handled it back then.”
“What?”
Without answering, he dialed.
“Elder, are you free tonight?”
“How about a game of baduk for old time’s sake?”
Though his tone was calm and drowsy as ever, his eyes gleamed like a beast right before the hunt.
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