“What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”
“Huh?”
“You kept touching it.”
Younghyun, who was in the TA room with him, pointed at the nape of his neck with a puzzled look. Giyun hastily took his hand off his neck. His heart thudded like he’d been caught doing something bad.
Ever since that day, he’d been absently fiddling with the area around his neck out of habit.
“I must’ve slept funny… feels like the muscle’s knotted up.”
“Yeah? Then you’ve gotta press harder. Like this, like this.”
With one hand, Younghyun kneaded his shoulder and the back of his neck as if giving a massage.
Giyun let his body yield helplessly to Younghyun’s hand. He had a strong touch; everywhere he pressed felt relieving.
A little while ago, just Seungjo’s hand touching his neck had nearly made his heart leap out, but of course he didn’t feel even a tremor of that now. The fact was reassuring, and at the same time unbearably complicated.
“Thank you… It’s a lot better.”
“Weren’t you studying too hard sitting down? You have to stretch in between. Here, follow me. First, roll your shoulders way back, then…”
As the price of his clumsy excuse, he awkwardly followed along with the stretches Younghyun demonstrated.
His shoulders, which hadn’t even been stiff to begin with, moved loosely. If only there were a stretch that would make his thoughts flow more loosely, too.
The fact that he still couldn’t get the man out of his head after days meant there was definitely something wrong with him.
“Hyung, do I smell?”
“Smell?”
Stopping mid–arm swing, Younghyun came to stand close by his side.
“Oh, you smell nice. You wearing perfume?”
“Fabric softener. Not that. Do you smell anything else? Like a bad odor…”
Sniffing close to his T-shirt, Younghyun scrunched his face like he’d just heard nonsense.
Giyun, however, was perfectly serious.
“What are you talking about. You working part-time at a landfill or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Why would you stink? You don’t.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why are you asking all of a sudden?”
After a pause, he carefully let the answer out.
“…Just in case. I heard the teacher is sensitive to smells…”
“Oh, right. He doesn’t like kids who are grubby.”
Just hearing “the teacher” “doesn’t like” sent his heart plummeting. The scene of the man pinching the corner of his eye whenever he spoke to him overlapped his view.
“He generally hires TAs of the same sex, but honestly there are a lot of guys who don’t wash. No matter how good their grades are, he won’t hire kids like that. And there’s a point to it, you know? If they can’t be bothered to wash before they go out, you think they’ll be diligent at work?”
His face visibly fell. Seeing that, the chattering Younghyun was taken aback.
“I wasn’t talking about you, so why are you worked up?”
“No reason…”
“You don’t smell. I said you don’t. Anyway, what fabric softener is that?”
He wrote the product and brand down on a piece of paper for him. After being shaken by the remark about sweat, he’d gone straight to the supermarket and bought it on impulse. Fabric softener wasn’t essential like detergent, so to him it counted as a luxury item, but after hearing that he couldn’t not buy something.
Pathetic, the way he hung on every word Seungjo threw at him. The man probably didn’t even remember…
“Thanks. I should buy one, too.”
“Want mine? It was a buy-one-get-one, so I’ve got a spare at home.”
“Nah, I’m good. By the way, you still up for that study group you mentioned?”
“Study group? Ah…”
Tilting his head for a second, he recalled the study group Younghyun had proposed last week. Some people prepared purely with lectures and self-study, but depending on study style many also paired that with a group.
Younghyun was juggling several on- and offline groups by subject; now, the members in his public administration study wanted to add more people and start a Korean history group too.
“They all attend in-person lectures, so it’ll be an offline study. We haven’t nailed the rules yet, but the idea is we set a weekly target, each write problems, and solve them together.”
Saying this method had helped him raise his scores a lot, he encouraged Giyun to join. After a moment’s thought, he nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll do it.”
He’d done a study group briefly before for the second-round interview prep. He’d failed the first round and never got the chance to interview in the end, but the members had all been diligent and he’d learned a lot. Lately he’d found it hard to focus and felt like his scores had plateaued, so it seemed fine to try a different way.
“Great. I’ll add you to the group chat. We’re meeting for the first time this Friday.”
As soon as he was invited into the chat, notifications chimed. Not because he’d joined. Apparently it was a lively room to begin with. It seemed there was someone who led the mood and steered the convo.
“We each said we’d bring a couple of people we know, so there’ll be some new folks talking a lot. Don’t mind it.”
“Okay.”
He said hello in the chat and then set it to mute.
“See you Friday, then.”
“Yeah. Later, hyung.”
Since his phone was out, he checked the backlog of messages. There was a short one from his younger brother. More precisely, it was a late reply to something he’d sent.
After the divorce, the remarriages, and then his own forced independence, the messages that had come from his brother several times a day had grown sparser and sparser. Now, even when he reached out first, the reply wouldn’t come until much later.
It’s all my fault.
He hadn’t been able to properly pay attention to his brother while devoting himself to study for a year. Maybe in that time his brother had grown detached.
And he hadn’t even passed, which made it all the more pathetic. The guilt that welled up whenever he thought about it was a free add-on.
His brother was seven years younger. It wasn’t so much that he was a late baby as that their mother had had Giyun far earlier than most; either way, it was a significant gap. Because of that, he’d taken care of his brother with a sense of responsibility since he was little. When their parents were out working, the ones left at home were always just the two of them.
When, as a high-schooler, he’d started part-time work and even he had trouble looking after his brother, he’d vowed that once he paid off his debts he would make time to spend with him often. That was before crisis swallowed him whole, back when he’d never imagined they’d end up living apart like this.
At the moment, he had no choice but to live as a guest in the home of their mother’s new husband, but his brother had always wanted to live with him.
A big reason he’d strained to pass in a single year was so he could quickly become a respectable working adult and bring his brother to live with him. As it was, he was too hard-pressed even to take care of himself; the idea of taking his brother and living as a pair under these circumstances was practically a pact to starve together.
But once he had a proper job, the story would change. Even if he couldn’t provide his brother with plenty, living with him in peace would be a hundred times better than tiptoeing around in that house.
Their mother already had a track record of abandoning one child; there was no guarantee she wouldn’t do the same to the other. He had to bring him over at least before he became an adult.
Thinking of that made him all the more sorry for not keeping in close touch after moving out. For the last few months, the messages had been conspicuously infrequent; he barely heard how his brother was doing. He didn’t have the composure to hide his feelings with their mother anymore, so trying to contact her took a lot of nerve.
As for the human being who was his father, after his remarriage—who knew what he was doing. He wasn’t even reachable now. Not that he had any desire to seek him out.
He called his brother late, but he didn’t pick up. He slipped the phone back into his pocket with a heavy heart. He should’ve checked the reply as soon as it came. Habitually blaming himself, he sighed and a shadow deepened over his face.
It had been a while since he’d seen his brother’s face. He was in the middle of a growth spurt; was he eating properly? The household ran a restaurant, so they probably weren’t starving him, but he wanted to buy him something delicious with his own money.
Fortunately, he was earning a TA’s pay while studying, and on weekends he worked at a convenience store, so lately there was at least a bit of breathing room. Next time he met his brother, he’d take him to his favorite restaurant. Even if it couldn’t be a hotel buffet like the one they’d gone to last week…
The memory of what had happened in the office that dawn came back again. As always, his train of thought slipped toward Seungjo. He shook his head hard. He really needed to learn some sort of meditation that emptied the mind.
But once he’d thought of him, his head was already occupied wall-to-wall and there was no going back, and now even all sorts of curiosities were sprouting.
Does he have a girlfriend? He wasn’t married, as far as he knew. No ring on his finger…
With his private life so tightly managed, there was no way to know. In any case, it was a personal privacy to be respected. It had nothing to do with his life, and he had no right to ask the person himself.
Even so, once sparked, his curiosity refused to fade. After a long hesitation, he switched his phone back on.
[공승조 여자 친구]
Even as he typed the search term into the portal with trembling fingers, he cupped one hand over the screen in case anyone might see. The bare minimum of shame.
Whether that was fortunate or not, there were plenty of rude people in the world as curious about others’ private lives as he was.
Title: Does Gong Seungjo have a girlfriend?
Body: It’s not like he’d go out with me if he didn’t; I’m just curious
Comments
- If he doesn’t, what are you gonna do;;;
└ Please read the OP - 잇x 있o
└ Wow, good for you
└└ 셧x 셨o - ㅇㅇ (yeah)
└ Really? Who??
└└ Me ^^
└└└ ㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗ
└└└ Tsk tsk, the heat brings the crazies out - He totally does
- No way lol—if you’re gsj-tier would he not?
└ Why, he could be too busy
└└ OP, you’re so naive
└└ 잇x 있o
└└└ Knock it off, ffs - Saw him with a woman in Ichon a few months back—can’t say for sure if it was a girlfriend but she was stunning
└ Figures…
└└ Might’ve been a model; looked super tall, but GSJ’s way taller lol—like a magazine spread
After reading a few similar posts, he scrolled away. Because he normally revealed nothing of his private life, there was no neat answer, but even so the general mood was confident he had someone.
He shouldn’t have looked. Curiosity cooled a little and then shame crept in. What was he doing, searching this kind of thing… If he found out, what would he think of him.
He quickly deleted his search history. As if that would erase the fact that he’d been curious about it.
It was his first time with a one-sided love. He’d never had a mutual one either, and he had no dating experience. That the first person he ever liked was this impossible a prospect—he felt like he’d met the final boss in a game without ever touching the tutorial.
He was someone who didn’t even have room in his life to play games, so the fact that clearing it was impossible wasn’t something he needed to buy himself tears over.
Studying at Building 3, which had a self-study room, he stepped out of the academy for a late dinner. He didn’t have the will to go all the way to the cup-rice street on the main road, so he headed to a nearby convenience store. On the way, he heard a voice as thin as if it might snap.
“Please help…”
Someone was lying facedown on newspaper on the street, begging. The small muttering was lifeless. Not in a position to help anyone financially, he walked past without thinking and headed for the convenience store entrance.
“Please, help me…”
Jingle—he half opened the door and then closed it again. He’d empathized. Unable to pass by the repeated plaintive voice, he turned back and walked over to the beggar. Just opening the door had let a spill of cool air from the store, but outside it was sweltering even in the evening. He didn’t know what sad circumstances had driven the man to beg in this weather, but maybe he could help in some tiny way.
He put a 1,000-won bill from his pocket into the plastic basket in front of the man.
“Thank you. You’ll be blessed.”
The man bowed his head again and again. Without a word, he went back into the store. Maybe it was because he felt a kinship. If not for Seungjo, he thought, his own situation might not have been all that different from the man’s. Though lacking the courage to beg, he’d have done something else…
After a rough mental tally of the cash left on him, he chose two triangle kimbap from the bento shelf. He was about to carry them to the counter when he locked eyes with someone coming into the store.
“…Hello!”
Startled, his face got away from him. The moment he saw the man, he bowed lower than usual and greeted him briskly, trying not to show his facial muscles moving of their own accord. From the angle of the bow and the drilled-in discipline, he could’ve passed for a back-alley underling.
Seungjo gave a curt nod in response, but with him bent double, he couldn’t see it. The clerk and Seungjo both watched him with a suspicious look.
“…You can straighten up now. I don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Since when have you treated me with that much deference.”
At last smoothing his expression, he straightened slowly. Seungjo was no longer even looking at him.
Ordering cigarettes at the counter, he jerked his chin at the kimbap in the hands of the boy standing behind him in line.
“Put them up.”
“I’m fine, though…”
He looked down at him steadily. His eyes said, Don’t make me say it twice.
Reading the room, he bowed again and meekly set the two triangles on the counter. The pair was bundled, ten percent off the sticker price.
“Shall I ring these up together?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need a bag?”
“I’m fine.”
While the clerk and Seungjo spoke, he stood with his hands respectfully clasped. Gesturing at the triangle kimbap on the counter, Seungjo asked him,
“Is that a snack?”
“It’s dinner…”
His eyes took on a subtle look. He stared down at the kimbap with a face that seemed to have a lot to say.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“I see…”
The short exchange ended as the check-out finished. He swallowed his regret.
Holding the kimbap, he followed him out of the store. Outside the building, he bowed and thanked him again.
“You didn’t have to… Thank you.”
“Eat that as a snack; let’s go have a meal.”
His mouth fell open at the unexpected offer. A meal with him. Just the two of them.
He wanted to … and he also didn’t.
Would he be so nervous he’d get indigestion? What if he made a mistake? What would he think if his face flushed while eating? It might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance, but his negative thought flow made a refusal pop out first.
“No, it’s okay. I should head back right away anyway…”
“Are you busier than I am?”
He had no reply to that.
“I won’t hog your precious time, Mr. Eun. When I say follow me, follow me.”
Cutting off the wrangling before it even began, he strode off without waiting for an answer. Hurrying after him, he pointed to a place in sight that seemed suitable.
“Um, how about there?”
It was a café that sold various sandwiches and salads. The look he shot that place said he wasn’t thrilled; anxiously, the boy’s eyes darted.
“Do as you like.”
But he agreed soon enough.
After ordering, when he chose a table on the outdoor terrace, the man’s brows lifted as if in puzzlement.
“I thought you were sensitive to heat. Why sit out here.”
Even if it was outdoors, the folding doors dividing inside and out were wide open for summer. The air-conditioning from inside drifted out, so it wasn’t that hot. He had chosen the place because it had an outdoor terrace.
There were two reasons he sat outside. One, if he got flustered like before and his face reddened, the lighting was dimmer outside so it might not show as much. The other—
“So you can smoke, sir…”
He scratched his cheek, embarrassed to state one of the two reasons. At that, his neat face went rigid.
“I’m not the kind of inconsiderate who smokes at the table.”
“Oh…”
He had assumed he’d smoke right away since he’d bought cigarettes. He’d said it because he didn’t mind, but he hadn’t realized it would rub him the wrong way.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. And in case you didn’t know, outdoor terraces are non-smoking areas, too.”
“Oh…”
At the convenience store where he worked, smoking was allowed at the outdoor tables, so he’d thought it would be okay here too. He hadn’t known; he hadn’t been to cafés like this.
If he’d just kept quiet, he could’ve passed for average… Why had he said that? Seeing the muscle in his jaw bunch like he was suppressing a retort, he wished he could turn the clock back exactly one minute.
“First you drip sweat in the office saving an electricity bill no one asked you to save, and now you try to make someone who isn’t thinking smoke at a shop.”
But time only flows forward.
“I haven’t done a single thing wrong to you, Mr. Eun. Don’t make me into a son of a bitch.”
“A son of a… No. You’re a really good person, sir.”
“And who are you to evaluate me.”
“That’s not what I meant… I’m sorry.”
Cowled, he lowered his head. The sandwiches that hadn’t even arrived yet felt like they’d stick. To steady himself, he fidgeted with the triangle kimbap in his hand like a comfort object.
“Do you make do with that for dinner every day?”
As if unable to hold back since he’d put the kimbap on the counter, he finally spoke up.
“Not always… it depends.”
Not every day… “almost” every day. He ate a solid meal at the cafeteria at noon, so a skimpy dinner didn’t seem so bad.
Just then the panini and sandwich arrived with the drinks. They looked generous with the ingredients. He waited for him to start first, but the man only stared at him as if to say, Why aren’t you eating?
Feeling the gaze, he moved with tact. He bowed his head and said bon appétit, then sipped his orange-ade. Sweet and tangy. Still not touching his food, the man posed another question.
“Don’t tell me that was all you had left after giving alms.”
He blinked. Alms? Did he… had he seen him in front of the convenience store…
“…You saw?”
“It was in plain view.”
The thought that he’d seen made him a bit embarrassed. In truth, whatever he’d been doing, just the idea that the man had been watching him from a distance made him feel flustered. He flurried to answer.
“That’s not it. I’ve got a lot of money these days…”
“If you’ve got a lot, try spending it on yourself.”
It had been less than a month since he’d started, but the TA paycheck had landed recently and he’d been feeling giddy. Objectively he couldn’t be called comfortable, but knowing money would come in punctually for the time being definitely steadied him.
“It’s just… he asked for help.”
“If I ask you for money, will you give it to me, too?”
“How much do you need?”
He stared at the boy, who’d asked back in all sincerity, with a frown. Getting the sense he’d misstepped, the boy clamped his mouth shut. The very idea of giving money to the person who paid his wages had been absurd from the start.
“The man you gave alms to is notorious around here.”
“Notorious?”
“After he’s done begging, he drives off in a foreign car.”
His pupils trembled minutely. Shock and horror washed over his face. He heard a boom in his head. The sound of his trust in society collapsing.
“…I thought he had it harder than me…”
“For your own sake, it’s better to live assuming there aren’t many like that.”
At the cool counsel, his eyes sank gloomily. He took a bite of the club sandwich that never seemed to get any smaller and chewed a long time. After swallowing completely, he spoke hesitantly.
“You helped me, sir. Seeing that guy reminded me of it, so I…”
“…”
“I wanted to… follow your example…”
He hadn’t meant to sound like a kindergartener. He felt his face growing hot. Thank heaven the lighting wasn’t bright. Arms folded, he listened and replied blandly,
“I’m not someone worth imitating.”
“That’s not true, to me—!”
He almost said you’re better than anyone to me, but afraid he’d get scolded for “evaluating” again, he swallowed the rest.
What could he say. After dithering a good while, he mustered the courage to confess:
“…I want to be like you…”
The other man would never know, but it was the feeling he sent in place of a love confession he could never make, not in a million years.
He tried to make it light somehow, but his voice trembled here and there and it felt a little ruined. The man stared straight at him.
“Mr. Eun has no eye for people.”
The tone carried a faint rebuke that said pathetic.
He knew that wasn’t how it was meant, but it still sounded like his confession had been rejected; he buried his face in both hands and dragged them down his cheeks.
A faint sound escaped between his teeth.
“Ah… I see…”
“What’s ‘ah, I see.’ Did you decide already you don’t want to be like me anymore?”
“No, that’s not…”
Startled, he jerked his head up. Wondering if he was angry, he checked his face; unexpectedly, the corner of the man’s mouth had twitched up in a brief smile.
It was a flash, but… right there, at him, faintly…
It was the first time he’d seen him smile.
“…”
Under the table, as heat kept rising and sweat threatened to bead on his palms, he raked them lightly with his nails.
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