Chapter 10

It was Sunday, and Sangwoo was heading home from work. To say he was in a terrible mood after the events of the previous day would be an understatement—his feet dragged under the weight of his own exhaustion and irritation. Turning into the alley right in front of his apartment, he relished the idea of falling into bed the moment he walked through his front door. But then he was jolted back to the present at the sight of a figure sitting at the base of the stairs leading to the entryway to his building. Dressed in gray sweatpants and a yellow jacket, with his hood pulled low over his head and gum in his mouth, Jaeyoung looked like some loafer who’d spent most of his week wasting his life away in an arcade. He blew a big bubble, watching it expand until it popped. It was hard to believe that Sangwoo had voluntarily made contact with that deadbeat’s lips, not once, but twice. Regardless, he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He quickly strode toward the entrance. He didn’t make it far. Jaeyoung suddenly sprang into motion, swinging his leg forward to block Sangwoo’s path. When Sangwoo stubbornly tried to move it out of the way, Jaeyoung hooked his fingers into the back pocket of Sangwoo’s jeans and yanked hard, causing him to stumble backward. This is sexual harassment, he wanted to snap. Jaeyoung’s hand had touched his butt, after all. But unfortunately, he knew he had no right to make that accusation. “What the hell? Were you gonna walk past me?” Jaeyoung leapt to his feet and blocked the entrance with his entire body, scowling like a thug about to demand Sangwoo hand over his lunch money. Eerily calm, Sangwoo began calculating an escape route. He could probably rush past if he really wanted to, but Jaeyoung would definitely catch him before he managed to enter his code into the door’s keypad. “This is absolutely insane,” Jaeyoung continued. “I mean, you’ve already kissed me twice. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? That was basically sexual assault!” Sangwoo’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. He’d confirmed that Jaeyoung was asleep multiple times, but maybe he’d been mistaken…? After a moment’s hesitation, he ventured, “As for the first incident, I have no excuses. I apologize. However, the second incident occurred due to mutual negligence. Forget it ever happened.” “Mutual negligence?” “Yes. You’re the one who touched my face and said those…things. The point is, we were both drunk, and we made a mistake. I assure you, I’m usually much more careful.” Jaeyoung didn’t respond, staring at Sangwoo with cold, gleaming eyes. His usual smile was nowhere to be found, leaving his face eerily emotionless. Sangwoo found himself shifting uncomfortably. Finally, Jaeyoung spat, “What, am I supposed to say sorry, too, now?” “Yes. It’d be best to exchange apologies and ensure the incident doesn’t repeat itself.” Jaeyoung’s lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Well, guess what? I’m not sorry, and I can’t promise it won’t happen again,” he snapped. Sangwoo found himself caught off guard. For some reason, he’d assumed that Jaeyoung would also want to pretend like the incident had never happened. It took him a moment of hesitation to find the words to speak again. “I don’t understand. What happened between us isn’t anything to be proud of.” “But why should I sweep it under the rug?” Jaeyoung retorted. “It wasn’t a mistake, and I know you felt the same way I did.” “And what way was that? All I felt was an abnormal sexual desire, nothing more.” Jaeyoung paused for a moment, his eyes darting to the side as if he was trying to process what he’d heard. “‘An…abnormal sexual desire’?” “Yes. Through evolution, humans have developed complex biological mechanisms that trigger them to feel sexual desire for members of the opposite sex for the purpose of reproduction. While it’s not that efficient, humanity has survived and thrived by pairing up and going through the complicated stages of pregnancy. Therefore, feeling sexual attraction to someone of the same sex is nothing but a meaningless illusion that does not contribute to humankind’s survival or evolution.” For the longest time, Jaeyoung was rooted to the spot, repeatedly blowing up bubbles with his gum until they popped. His face was so impassive that Sangwoo couldn’t get a read on it. Finally, he picked his ear with one finger and tilted his head. It was likely he hadn’t been paying attention to anything Sangwoo had said. “Okay, and…?” he snarked. “I don’t recall signing up for a bio lecture. Whatever. I have one question for you: Did you get hard yesterday?” “Get hard? In what respect?” “What do you think? I’m talking about your external reproductive organ, idiot.” Sangwoo hadn’t been expecting Jaeyoung to ask such a personal, prying question, but this was one he could tolerate answering. The desire for reproduction was ingrained deep within his DNA, after all. Sure, it had been triggered in error, but that was nothing to be ashamed about. “I do become erect quite often when I’m with you,” he said without hesitation. “I’m not going to deny the presence of my sexual desires.” “That’s a real fancy way to say yes.” Sangwoo ignored the mocking comment. “But that doesn’t change anything. It’s scientifically impossible for your Y chromosome to turn into an X chromosome.” The two of them were like a pair of magnets polarized in the same direction—they would never be able to be together. Heaving a sigh, Sangwoo continued, “Let me be fully transparent. This has been happening for a while, but I’m certain I will recover soon enough. Unfortunately, I’m currently unable to control my impulses. Something seems to be malfunctioning…so I might need some time. The issue might be that we’ve been around each other too much. But I also don’t want to give up on Veggie Venturer…” Jaeyoung scoffed loudly. “Oh, I see! So you want me to stay the hell away from you, but you still want my designs?” “I don’t want to give up on this project. We can work remotely if necessary,” Sangwoo said stubbornly. “Please don’t abandon the game.” Reaching into his hood to brush his hair back, Jaeyoung stretched his neck with a look of disbelief. When he took a step forward, Sangwoo took one in the opposite direction. “Y’know, I don’t get you sometimes. Did you ever consider that this situation might be making me uncomfortable?” “Is it?” Another step forward, another step back. “You really think I’m worried about the game right now? Honestly, you’re the most self-centered asshole I’ve ever met! How come you never even try to consider my perspective?” “What is your perspective?” Jaeyoung’s face screwed up in anger and he began to advance faster. Sangwoo stumbled back just as quickly. “Are you trying to piss me off?” “I swear it was a genuine question.” Finally coming to a stop, Jaeyoung tilted his head back and massaged his neck. A deep sigh escaped his lips. “C’mon. You can’t expect me to keep working like nothing happened. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to focus on the damn game when you’re around.” “You could try to suppress your desires and think more logica—” “Sorry, but I don’t work like that.” “Calm down. Besides, as you can see, I’m a man,” Sangwoo declared. But once the words left his mouth, he abruptly felt like an idiot. Jaeyoung let out another scoff. Even that expression looks handsome on him, pointed out the more primal part of Sangwoo’s brain. The logical part couldn’t believe that was what he was focused on. “I don’t give a shit about evolution and chromosomes. Unlike you, I don’t put labels on myself. I still don’t know what I’m gonna do with my life, but that’s fine, because what matters most to me is what I feel right here and now.” Jaeyoung put his hand over his heart, then surged yet another step forward toward Sangwoo. With the streetlight shining on him from behind, his shoulders looked much broader than usual. A sudden tendril of fear unfurled within Sangwoo. “Call it abnormal if you want, but I’m not like you,” Jaeyoung said angrily. “If I catch feelings for someone, I just go for it. The only reason I’ve been holding back is because you’re a dude, and because I know it would break a pile of your stupid rules! Not because I’m some kind of gentleman, all right? But you can’t even return that favor! You’re acting like my opinion doesn’t even matter in this situation!” Sangwoo took another step back, but this time, his back bumped into a wall. He was trapped—cornered. His mind went blank as he scrambled to think of any self-defense techniques he could use against someone bigger than him. When did he get so close?! Sangwoo thought, a wave of panic rushing over him as Jaeyoung continued to advance. At this point, their lips were about two steps apart. Sangwoo flinched in horror at the realization of how close the events of the previous day were to repeating themselves. “You’re the one who started this,” Jaeyoung was saying. “Don’t you dare tell me to…give up. You have no right—” This is my chance! Seizing the opening, Sangwoo shoved his elbow into Jaeyoung’s side as hard as he could, then took off running. “Are you serious?! Get your ass back here! I’m not done with you yet!” Ignoring Jaeyoung’s enraged shouting, Sangwoo raced straight for his apartment building. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the room to gain enough momentum, and Jaeyoung caught him just as he reached the dirty glass doors. Tightening his grip into a headlock, Jaeyoung grabbed one of Sangwoo’s arms and tried to twist it behind his back. Realizing what was happening, Sangwoo tensed, jerking his arm and shaking his head wildly in a desperate attempt to break free. He quickly drove an elbow toward Jaeyoung’s stomach again with his free arm—but to Sangwoo’s dismay, Jaeyoung blocked it effortlessly with his other arm. For what felt like an eternity, the two of them grappled fiercely outside the apartment building. “Let…go of me!” Sangwoo gasped. He tried to trip Jaeyoung with one leg, but the bigger man had already used his physical advantage to completely trap Sangwoo in his arms. Naturally, when he went tumbling to the ground, he took his prey with him. Jaeyoung’s back collided with the asphalt first, and he grunted in pain. Hoping to take advantage of the opening and regain his footing, Sangwoo drove a punch into the asshole’s chin, but Jaeyoung immediately wrapped his legs around Sangwoo’s waist and flipped them both around. Damn it. If only there was something to whack him with… Jaeyoung wasn’t that much bigger than him but large enough to keep Sangwoo from overpowering him. Before he knew it, Sangwoo was on his back with Jaeyoung on top of him. Trapping Sangwoo’s thighs between his knees, Jaeyoung firmly pinned his wrists to the asphalt. It was clear the asshole had gained the upper hand—Sangwoo had no chance of shaking him off from where he lay on the ground. The position sent the memories of their tussle from literal seconds ago up in smoke, and Sangwoo squeezed his eyes shut. “What do you think you’re doing?” he barely managed to say. Jaeyoung’s fingers tightened around Sangwoo’s wrists. “You’re the one who ran away in the middle of an important conversation. Feel like acting like a grown-up now?” “I have nothing more to say,” Sangwoo said stubbornly. “Open your eyes.” He did not. “If you don’t, I’m gonna kiss you.” Sangwoo’s eyes snapped open, his heartbeat jolting into a gallop in his chest. Whether it was because so much of their bodies was pressed together, or because Jaeyoung’s face was so close to his, he couldn’t tell. Even worse, it was impossible to hide his physical malfunction—his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Grasping at straws, Sangwoo began to recite the national anthem in his head. But Jaeyoung appeared oblivious to his struggles. “Listen very closely,” the asshole said in a serious tone. “I don’t care that you’re a man. So you have two choices now: Let’s see where this goes, or I’m dumping the damn game and we can go our separate ways. Those are your only options.” “See where what goes?” “What the hell do you think?” Jaeyoung asked. The streetlight cast warmth onto his cheeks, and his eyes seemed a shade lighter under the orange glow. Jaeyoung’s words felt like they were in a code to which Sangwoo only had half a key. He had a good guess as to why the other man was so angry and to what he was proposing, but he needed to be sure. “Basically, you’re suggesting that we keep doing…those things,” Sangwoo said. His words came out even more flatly than Jaeyoung’s, and it didn’t help that his voice was so hoarse. “‘Those things’? Care to elaborate?” “You want the two of us to act like we’re in a relationship even though we’re both men for the sake of relieving our sexual desires. You want us to hold hands, kiss, and…fornicate.” “‘Act like we’re in a relationship’? Sangwoo, I swear…” His brow furrowing in irritation, Jaeyoung squeezed Sangwoo’s wrists even tighter. A shadow fell across Sangwoo’s eyes when he leaned closer. “Let me ask you something. What’s your definition of a relationship?” “A relationship is when a man and woman engage in a romantic courtship with the goal of eventually getting married. By doing this, you’re basically utilizing a trial version of the existing official software.” “And two guys can’t do that?” “I would think the answer to that is obvious.” Without warning, Jaeyoung released Sangwoo’s wrists and took a few steps back before sinking down on the ground, blinking in disbelief. The streetlight bathed his skin in a glowing sea of orange. “Wait there. I need to think,” he muttered. “And don’t you dare try running off again.” After tossing his gum into a nearby trash can, Jaeyoung pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slipped one between his lips. A small spark flared in the darkness as he lit it, and a thin trail of smoke rose into the sky. As Jaeyoung’s cheeks puffed out, then deflated, Sangwoo sat up and put some distance between himself and the other man. Settling himself onto the ground as well, he bent his knees partway to his chest. Jaeyoung didn’t say a word the entire time he smoked his cigarette. Once he finished it, he stubbed it out with his heel and ran both his hands over his face. Sangwoo waited patiently, unsure how much time had passed—he had no way of telling without checking his watch, but it felt like it had been a while. And then, finally, their eyes met. “Maybe it’s easier this way,” Jaeyoung muttered coldly, seemingly to himself. “Sure, let’s call it sexual desire if that’s the only way you can understand it.” He motioned for Sangwoo to come closer. Sangwoo tensed, slightly unsettled by the emotionless mask that had settled over Jaeyoung’s face. “Get over here, or you’ll really piss me off.” Inch by inch, Sangwoo crawled toward Jaeyoung on his knees. The psycho simply stared at him impassively, beckoning him closer again and again. Forward, forward, forward… Sangwoo continued until they were about a desk’s width apart, then stopped. “What?” The word had barely left his mouth when Jaeyoung raised himself to his knees and scooted closer, snatching Sangwoo’s hand off the ground and lacing their fingers together. It happened so fast that there was no avoiding him—Sangwoo simply froze into a statue. “We’re holding hands now…,” Jaeyoung muttered, reaching out his other hand to cup Sangwoo’s cheek. His thumb slowly brushed over Sangwoo’s lips. “And we’ve already kissed.” Shuddering instinctively, Sangwoo tried to lean back, but Jaeyoung quickly pulled him closer to his chest by the neck. “Now…we just have to fornicate, right?” Jaeyoung whispered in Sangwoo’s ear. Goose bumps immediately ran down the younger man’s arms. Jaeyoung leaned in even closer until his forehead made contact with Sangwoo’s hat. Slowly, the rim was pushed up and back until the piece of headwear came loose and fell to the ground. As Jaeyoung’s light brown eyes gazed into his, Sangwoo struggled to decipher some kind of thought, intent, or emotion in them…but it was impossible. He couldn’t tell if Jaeyoung was being sarcastic or genuine. To make things even worse, he couldn’t process anything that was happening—not with his heart threatening to burst through his chest and his skin’s temperature regulation system malfunctioning. Struggling to compose himself, Sangwoo managed to say, “I have two questions.” Jaeyoung jerked his chin up slightly, signaling him he was allowed to continue. “First question: Given that men cannot engage in fornication, I’m not quite sure how you plan for us to relieve our sexual desi—” “They can.” “S-sorry? How… I mean, where… What…?” “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it once we get there.” “How can you be so confident without even try—” “I have prior experience,” Jaeyoung interrupted, finally breaking his intense stare to awkwardly scratch at his neck. “Next question.” Sangwoo hadn’t really gotten a solid answer to his first inquiry, but he quietly filed away the new information and planned to do additional research on how things worked at a later date. “Second question: What is the benefit of forming such an irrational relationship?” “All right. Imagine yourself as a general in the Qing dynasty,” Jaeyoung whispered in a low voice, squeezing Sangwoo’s hand even harder. “The enemy is besieging your castle. Soon, they’re gonna shoot arrows over the walls, cut off your water supply, and all that jazz… At that point, you have two options.” He extended his index finger. “One: Just ignore them and wait until they leave…” Sangwoo stayed silent—he had a good idea of what Jaeyoung was trying to say. Jaeyoung held up another finger. “Two: Ditch the castle and go beat the shit out of them. Which one sounds better to you?” Still, Sangwoo didn’t say anything. “Think about it. The most efficient way to solve a problem is by eliminating the root cause. At least, I figured you might relate to that…” Nodding wordlessly, Sangwoo recalled a memory from his time as a corporal—his unit’s living space had been infested with bees, so he’d had to suit up in CBRN safety gear and remove the beehive himself. Jaeyoung poked him right above the heart with a single finger. “See? That’s the only way to curb your ‘abnormal’ desires. Don’t try to run from them or ignore them. How about we see how things feel and where we end up? Who knows? Maybe that’ll get rid of these annoying emotions.” It was a convincing argument. And this way, Sangwoo would be able to continue Veggie Venturer as well. That being said, he honestly didn’t get how he’d wound up agreeing with Jaeyoung—after all, the suggestions didn’t align with his values at all. The vast majority of people online seemed to agree that having friends with benefits for the sole purpose of satisfying one’s sexual desires was unethical. Rejecting the offer would be the right thing to do as a civilized human being, no matter how much he wanted to engage in sexual activity…but Jaeyoung had a good point. Sweat beaded on Sangwoo’s palm where his skin pressed against Jaeyoung’s. An irrational urge was building inside him to not let the hand go. Rather, he wanted to see, touch, kiss…and maybe take things further. No matter how much Sangwoo tried to push the thoughts away, desire clung to his mind. But was indulging himself really the only way to rid himself of these impulses? Unfortunately, he lacked the resources to reach a proper conclusion, as he’d never even considered the question before. Finally, Sangwoo spoke. “To begin with, let go of me.” Pushing Jaeyoung back with one hand as he reclaimed the other, Sangwoo scooted backward. The psycho’s proposal was a tempting one, to be sure, but he wasn’t the type to make important decisions on a whim. Picking up his hat and putting it back on, he added, “I need some time to review your offer.” “How much time?” “Two weeks.” “Seriously? I’m on a tight schedule here.” “I’m aware. In fact, if you take a look at what we have planned for the next two weeks, you’ll see we don’t have any meetings scheduled due to midterms. I’ll use that period to think things over. In the meantime, please proceed with the tasks outlined in the schedule. All files should be uploaded to the cloud drive by Friday, April 26th.” “Seriously? You’re doing this now?” Ignoring the comment, Sangwoo rose to his feet. He could still feel his hand throbbing from Jaeyoung’s tight grip. As he brushed past Jaeyoung, he heard the other man call his name. “Sangwoo Choo.” “What?” “Why do you always have to make things so hard, huh?” “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’ll see you at the next meeting.” “Meeting, my ass…” As Sangwoo finally walked into his apartment building, he could feel an excessive amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins. return 0; Exams rarely prompted Sangwoo to change up his routine—his study sessions became slightly longer, but that was about it. He felt no need to cram at the very last minute, since he reviewed lecture materials every single day. To be fair, he was going to have to put in a bit more effort this particular time, since he’d missed the majority of his lectures at the beginning of the semester. But even that wasn’t going to give him much trouble, since he’d been diligent about catching up after Jaeyoung had dropped out at the two-week mark. In fact, Sangwoo had so much free time on his hands that he’d even been able to test out his completed resources in Veggie Venturer’s game engine occasionally. The only difference was that he didn’t have his meetings with Jaeyoung. On Wednesday, Jihye had suggested that they meet up over the weekend to study for Pop Culture and Cultural Theory together. Sangwoo had taken her up on the offer, hoping that Jihye’s presence would turn out to be useful—the class was one of his weakest links, after all. He didn’t work during midterms, so they’d met that Saturday at a café Jihye had picked out. The meeting had turned out to be very productive, to Sangwoo’s satisfaction. They’d traded explanations back and forth on various theories, and then quizzed each other on them, making sure to review topics they were shaky on. When exam week had arrived, it flew by. Most of Sangwoo’s exams were written, but he’d had to do an oral exam for Intermediate Chinese, and some of his professors assigned projects instead. Thankfully, he didn’t have much trouble with any of them. He’d always been at the top of his class, even when he was taking seven or eight lectures in the same semester—five was a piece of cake. “That was pretty hard,” Jihye said with a loud sigh as they walked out of the Pop Culture and Cultural Theory classroom after the exam. “Question fifteen really killed me! How are we supposed to know the cities where every single one of the theories originated? That’s insanely hyperspecific! It’s like the professor was trying to screw us over.” “I thought question twenty-two was difficult.” “Really? That was the short answer where you had to criticize postmodernism from Adorno’s perspective, right? Hmm… That’s weird. You had both those theories down when we were studying together.” They continued to thoroughly review the exam questions together as they ate in the dining hall. It turned out that Jihye cared a great deal about performing well on her exams, which made sense, considering how hard she worked in school. “Honestly, it kinda sounds like you did much better on the exam than I did. You might’ve gotten all the questions right aside from number twenty-two.” “Perhaps.” “This is sooo unfair. I’m the one who explained those theories to you!” “It’s unreasonable to expect me to perform poorly on purpose simply because you helped me.” Jihye pouted silently. Her frustration and disappointment were valid—it probably stung to know she had performed worse than someone who didn’t understand the subject as well as she did. Sangwoo figured it might improve her mood to say something kind to her for once—humans were emotional creatures, as a certain someone kept reminding him. “Memorization has always been my strong suit,” he said, “but I don’t think I would have managed to understand the concepts if you hadn’t helped out.” “Really? You mean that?” Why is she trying to extract the same compliment from me twice? Sangwoo wondered. Ignoring her, he silently finished his food. Once he was done eating, Sangwoo put his tray away and headed to the convenience store, planning on grabbing some coffee. Jihye followed him, unasked, as per usual. She snatched the Black Holic from him and paid for it before he could say anything. “So, I think I can ask for a favor. I helped you ace the exam, and now I even got you coffee!” “That was a trap, then?” “I guess…? Anyway, come on, please? You owe me!” The words might’ve sounded threatening from anyone else, but Jihye’s bright smile took the teeth out of them. Sangwoo tried to guess what she might want from him, but his imagination only produced generic hypotheses like a nice meal or helping her carry heavy things. Though honestly, if either one of those options was the case, he wouldn’t mind complying with her wishes. “Tell me what the favor is first.” “Do you have any plans for the school festival?” Sangwoo frowned, caught off guard. The word “festival” failed to elicit any kind of positive emotion within him. For one, he’d never participated in one before. Since classes were usually canceled during the festival week, he typically took advantage of the free time to do something actually productive. “I’ll be working.” “Oh…I see. Well, you can take a day off, right? I went out of my way to help you study, you know…” “But why do you want me to do that?” “Because I want you to hang out at the festival with me! Would Monday work?” “But why do you want me to—” “I don’t have any friends to enjoy the festival with!” “Why do you need a friend for that?” Jihye rolled her eyes. “Cut it out. That’s what I’m asking for, so please say yes.” Turning her down didn’t seem to be an option. It was true that Jihye had been very helpful to him, and he’d look like a complete jerk if he hypothetically slammed the door in her face after giving her a rare compliment. “Fine,” he said sullenly. Jihye beamed and made him promise to meet her at the campus front gates at eleven on Monday. return 0; The end of exam week had finally arrived. The results had already come out, and they were exactly what Sangwoo had anticipated—the only anomaly being that his grade in Pop Culture and Cultural Theory would be much higher than he’d thought it would be. After eating lunch at the dining hall, Sangwoo bought a can of coffee and took a walk along his usual path. His steps were brisk with excitement. The past two weeks had been hectic, but the absence of a particular individual had been painfully noticeable. In the past, he’d made tons of stupid mistakes and lost his ability to concentrate due to the asshole’s absence. This time, though, he’d found it much more bearable, probably because he knew exactly when he would see him again. The folder on his desktop, simply named “Jaeyoung Jang,” had helped as well. “Don’t try to run from them or ignore them. How about we see how things feel and where we end up? Who knows? Maybe that’ll get rid of these annoying emotions.” Sangwoo had been running an experiment during the exam period to test two different solutions to the problem at hand. If the desire he felt in Jaeyoung’s presence was only a temporary malfunction, then it should have fizzled out over the past two weeks. If it resurfaced when he saw Jaeyoung next, he’d have no choice but to confront the issue head-on and eliminate the root cause. For as long as he could remember, Sangwoo had avoided uncertainty like the plague, but as Jaeyoung had pointed out, there was no running from it this time. All he could do was wait and see what would emerge from all the uncertainty and confusion. Now that the exam period had wrapped, so had Sangwoo’s experiment. Over the past two weeks, he had carefully observed his own state with the objectivity of a scientist, making sure to keep his emotions from influencing his rational side. The results were irrefutable—the enemies outside his castle had only grown in number and become more aggressive upon being ignored. He found himself longing for everything related to Jaeyoung, even if he’d hated it in the beginning. His face, voice, little gestures, facial expressions, his crude speech, the way he smelled… An intense craving burned through Sangwoo, one that couldn’t be satisfied even by looking at Jaeyoung’s pictures and videos every day or listening to a playlist filled with Jaeyoung’s favorite songs before bed. The desire inside him had multiplied like a virus left unchecked, infecting his mind from the inside out. Now, he only had one option remaining of the two Jaeyoung had offered him. It was easy enough to make up his mind, despite there being a couple of days left until their agreed-upon deadline. Sangwoo headed into the studio like a general going to war. There, he only found the design major who was in his year despite being two years older. “Uh… Jaeyoung isn’t here,” she said. To Sangwoo’s eyes, the woman’s obnoxious fur jacket made her look like a poacher. When he glanced over at her, she flinched visibly and turned down her music. Her speaker was surrounded by a pile of tangled cords—after a few seconds, Sangwoo could identify a keyboard, mouse, monitor, and external drive hookup along with chargers for a tablet and a phone mixed with two different USB jacks and a four-way power strip. Sangwoo felt a part of him dying inside at the sight. The poacher tried to press some buttons on the speaker but ended up knocking it over. “I don’t know why they make the cords on these things so short nowadays,” she muttered sheepishly. Sangwoo blinked at her. This was the first time he’d been so completely flabbergasted that he genuinely couldn’t think of anything to say. Deciding it would be better not to engage further, he claimed his typical empty seat and waited. Eyes drifting over to Jaeyoung’s perpetually messy desk, he silently began to gather up all the trash and throw it away. When he was done, he then put a pack of cigarettes, lip balm, an umbrella cover, earphones, and a lighter in the desk drawer. There was also a notebook with a familiar cover inside, which brought Sangwoo to a stop before he slid the drawer shut. It was the one Jaeyoung had forcibly “bought” from him a while ago—the same kind Sangwoo had been buying over and over again for the past few years. On that day, Jaeyoung had drawn a picture of him, and Sangwoo had ripped it into small pieces. That had been during the first week of the semester—six whole weeks ago. At the time, Jaeyoung had been following Sangwoo around like a stalker, harassing him like it was his job to do so. Sangwoo began to flip through the notebook, a strange sense of nostalgia stirring inside him. The last time he’d seen these pages, they’d been blank, but now they were filled with doodles. A few of them depicted cars and guns, but the rest were of humanoid figures. In fact, they seemed to be drawings of the same person—a guy with slanted eyes, absurdly deep dark circles, and a black baseball cap. The figure’s face was nearly twice the size of its thin, twig-like body. A few more turns of the page revealed a series of comic strips titled How to Kill S.W.C. When did he draw this garbage? Sangwoo wondered, flipping through episode after episode. In each one, a crude, bobble-headed replica of Sangwoo himself died in some grotesque way—getting cut in two, ground into powder, filled up with air until he popped like an overfilled balloon, or—strangely—shriveling up and wasting away after getting his hat stolen. Despite the subject matter, Jaeyoung had somehow managed to make it look so comical that Sangwoo found himself snickering. He paused when he reached the very last page, where the art style underwent a sudden shift. The sketch was a side profile of a man wearing a black hat. Is that supposed to be me? The man depicted on the page was so incredibly handsome—well, maybe pretty was the right word—that he could probably be a celebrity if he wanted to. His lashes were long and full, complementing his straight nose bridge and soft smile. It also seemed a lot of energy had been put into drawing his neck; beyond the incredibly detailed shading, Jaeyoung had made sure to include protruding tendons, the muscles that swept from neck to shoulder, and even a mole near his neckline. Sangwoo quickly glanced down at his shoulder, realizing for the first time in his life that he did, in fact, have a mole there. “Hey! Does Jaeyoung even know you’re here? Why don’t you try calling him instead of sitting around?” the poacher suggested loudly. Suddenly feeling like a thief, Sangwoo shoved the notebook back in Jaeyoung’s drawer and closed it. “I can afford to wait a bit longer. I don’t have anything else scheduled for today.” “Okay, but what if he never shows up…? You know what? I’ll call him for you. Trust me, I’m doing this for my sake, not yours.” “If that’s what you want, I have no objections.” Exhaling loudly, the poacher grabbed her phone, tapped on the screen, and put the call on speaker. The dial tone rang loudly in the silence of the room. Riiing… Riiing… Riiing… The tension grew every time the tone repeated itself, but Jaeyoung never picked up. Immediately, the poacher called him again, but the call only went to voicemail. “That asshole!” the poacher snarled. “Seriously? He better pick up!” She called Jaeyoung a few more times in rapid succession, but she never got past the voicemail prompt. “Okay, he’s definitely being a lazy ass and ignoring my calls. Let me try calling with yours.” Nodding, Sangwoo dialed Jaeyoung’s number and handed his cell over to the poacher, who put the call on speaker again. Riiing… Riiing… Riii— “Hello?” “What the hell? Why didn’t you pick up when I phoned you?” the poacher snapped. “Are you with Sangwoo?” The poacher glared at the phone. “Where are you?” “Home. Are you with Sangwoo?” “Look, this guy has been sitting in the studio for ages, staring around with this super judgmental look on his face. Come fetch him before I throw myself out the window, okay? Drive, don’t walk!” Sangwoo heard Jaeyoung’s low sigh. “Fine.” Then he hung up. “I swear to God, he never takes me seriously,” the poacher grumbled. “Now I know he’s always ignoring my calls on purpose.” She seethed for a few more seconds, then handed Sangwoo his phone back. After slipping it into his backpack, he took out his textbook. There was a brief, awkward silence. “Um… Hey, Sangchoo Choo.” “Please make an effort to say my name correctly,” he replied flatly. It was the tenth time he’d made the request since meeting the poacher. Sangwoo scoured his mind for the woman’s name, but it seemed it had never been recorded in his memory. Thankfully, he was saved by the gold necklace around her neck, which spelled out “Yuna Choi.” “How would you feel if I called you ‘Yuchoi Choi’?” “I wouldn’t care, honestly.” “All right, then. From now on, I’ll refer to you as such.” This time, the poacher didn’t respond, giving Sangwoo an uncomfortable glance instead. Sangwoo understood the sentiment—after all, he’d only ever bickered with her since he’d started regularly visiting the studio. And anyway, he didn’t exactly feel the need to be friends with someone who seemed so wild and stubborn… Suddenly, the poacher asked, “Did you two have a fight or something? You haven’t been here in a while, and Jaeyoung’s been acting weird…” “There’s no need to break the silence with pointless chatter, you know. Pretend I’m not here and get to work, Yuchoi Choi.” “I’m just curious, that’s all! I bet you had an argument. What was it about?” “There was no argument,” Sangwoo shot back. “And even if there was, it would be none of your business, Yuchoi Choi.” There was no reason for him to elaborate. After all, he wouldn’t exactly benefit from telling the poacher that he and Jaeyoung—a pair of men—had gone out for drinks, kissed, and then ended up disagreeing on where to take their relationship next. His gaze drifted back to the poacher’s desk and her pile of hopelessly tangled cords. He felt a flare of irritation—somehow, the sight seemed to be a reflection of his own life. Rising to his feet, he marched over to her desk with a sense of purpose. The poacher looked up at him in confusion. “Go and take a break if you’re not planning on doing any work,” he said, waving her away. Once she’d hesitantly stood from her seat, he quickly saved all twelve of the programs that had been running on her computer and turned off the desktop, speaker, and monitor. He also found the power button on a strange machine that appeared to be some sort of heated tongs, turned it off, and did the same to a second large, mysterious machine underneath her desk. Then he got to work on the cords. First, Sangwoo unplugged the external hard drive, folded its cord at regular intervals, and put it into its case. As for the connectors for the tongs-like machine and the tablet and phone chargers, he carefully coiled the cords and placed them in the desk’s drawer. Then he unplugged the mouse, keyboard, and speaker, pushed them to the side for the time being, and untangled the cords belonging to the monitor and PC tower so he could plug them back in neatly. The four-socket power strip went behind the monitor. Once he’d organized all of the other devices so their cords wouldn’t be tangled, the desk looked much tidier. Sangwoo smiled in satisfaction as he grabbed a rubber band from the desk and tied the cords together neatly. The connector for the speaker was not, in fact, as short as the poacher had intimated—in this case, the fault lay with the user. In Sangwoo’s opinion, humans mistreated machines way too frequently. The poacher whistled under her breath. “Dang… You should apply to be in one of those TV programs for people with weird talents.” “Try to keep the cords organized,” he said, ignoring her comment. “Your desk was only cluttered because you kept so many machines plugged in despite not using them.” “But…I do use them.” “Feel free to maintain your dismal lifestyle, then.” The door suddenly opened in the middle of this exchange, and Jaeyoung strode into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He wore a white sweatshirt with the logo of a baseball team embroidered on the chest and a pair of black pants. Without acknowledging Sangwoo, he brushed past him and plopped down in his chair. “There you are. The Incarnation of Desire,” he said to Sangwoo mockingly. The poacher burst out laughing. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Dunno. Ask him yourself,” Jaeyoung responded without even looking at her, staring at his phone instead. Sangwoo gazed at him silently, but the psycho’s eyes remained fixated on the screen. His side profile was cold and emotionless. After a moment, the poacher chuckled awkwardly. “Hey… We’re all friends here. Let’s apologize and move on, yeah?” “Don’t worry, we didn’t have an argument. It’s a lot more complicated than that,” Jaeyoung said, crossing his legs and peering at his nails. “Why are you here, anyway?” he added, addressing Sangwoo now. “If you want the final products, you’re shit outta luck. I’ve been slacking off this whole time. What should I do now? Want me to beg for forgiveness?” “No,” Sangwoo responded. “I said I would consider your proposal and present my decision the day after tomorrow, if you recall.” “Yeah.” “Well, I would like to move the deadline to today.” Jaeyoung narrowed his eyes, then glanced at the back of the poacher’s head. “Hey. Almost time for your smoke break, isn’t it?” She turned to him in surprise. “Huh? Are you kicking me out?” “Ten minutes.” “It’s not like you own the freaking place,” she muttered. For a moment, Sangwoo thought she would vehemently protest Jaeyoung’s unjust order, but she quickly gathered up her phone and wallet even as she grumbled under her breath. “I’ll be back in ten, okay? You two better have made up by then. I’m tired of tiptoeing around you.” With that, she walked backward out of the room, pointing an accusing finger at them the whole time. The door slammed shut, leaving Sangwoo and Jaeyoung alone in the studio. For a long moment, neither one of them spoke. Jaeyoung slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared at Sangwoo unblinkingly, his eyes devoid of their usual playfulness. Sangwoo, meanwhile, was silently taking note of the inevitable hormonal reaction happening within his body as a result of seeing Jaeyoung for the first time in two whole weeks. Finally, Sangwoo said impassively, “I accept your proposal. It seems to be based on rational reasoning, and it would be preferable to go into such a venture with someone who is experienced like you. We can start next Monday.” It was Sangwoo’s way of declaring war on the pure, unadulterated sexual desire that only seemed to serve as a distraction to his daily life. He would hunt it down with a spear like some kind of barbarian hunting for sustenance. Jaeyoung’s face remained completely emotionless as he listened. Then he said, “I want to review exactly what my proposal consisted of.” “As I understood it, the two of us will give each other the privilege to perform actions that are typically only acceptable to those within the bounds of a relationship.” “To relieve our sexual desires, right?” “Correct.” “So we’d be…friends with benefits?” “Correct.” Jaeyoung scoffed in disbelief. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…” Though his reasoning was difficult for Sangwoo to comprehend, Jaeyoung seemed to be acting like it was Sangwoo who was at fault for their current situation. But it was Jaeyoung who’d made the immoral proposal in the first place. The psycho heaved a long sigh. “If I’m being honest, I was preparing myself for a rejection. Like, I don’t even know what to say,” he muttered. “Looking forward to it, I guess…?” “Yes. I’ll be in touch,” Sangwoo said with a nod. He began to rise to his feet, but froze when Jaeyoung called out to him. “Wait.” When Sangwoo glanced over, he found Jaeyoung staring at him with a face like a statue—completely impassive. When he spoke again, his tone was flat and dry. “Why start Monday? You gotta prepare yourself or something?” “That’s right. I also need to do some research.” “What research?” “I would rather keep that to myself.” Jaeyoung’s mouth fell open slightly as an unreadable look flashed across his face. Finally, he said, “Yeah, got it. So, we’ll grab a room at a motel on Monday, then…?” “Yes. That’s what we agreed to.” Drawing in such a deep breath that his cheeks puffed up, Jaeyoung tilted his head back and let out a long sigh. He ran a hand roughly over his face. “Fine. You sure you don’t wanna do anything today? I’m sure you’re pent up after two whole weeks of no contact.” Sangwoo stiffened. “Of course we can’t…do it today. I haven’t had the chance to prepare.” “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Jaeyoung said, pressing on. The other man had a habit of beating around the bush whenever he broached a topic, which meant Sangwoo ended up having to spend much more energy than was necessary on processing the given information. Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to decipher what Jaeyoung was getting at. “We already did that at the bar the Saturday before last.” “So? Doing it again wouldn’t hurt, right?” He has a point. After a brief pause, Sangwoo extended a knee and hooked the tip of his shoe under one of the wheeled legs of Jaeyoung’s office chair. After a subtle tug, it rolled closer, colliding with Sangwoo’s own chair like they were playing a game of bumper cars. Jaeyoung’s chair tilted back slightly from the impact, but Sangwoo quickly steadied it and looked up into Jaeyoung’s face. Right in front of him, mere inches away, the senior stared at him with dilated eyes. Desire surged through Sangwoo’s stomach, hot and wild. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he announced. “Would you like me to lock the door beforehand?” “Go for it.” Sangwoo immediately rose to his feet and walked over to the door, locking it with a click. When he turned back around, he found Jaeyoung standing only inches away from him. “When did you—” But he never got the chance to finish his sentence. Jaeyoung’s hands shot up to cup his cheeks, and their lips pressed together. The world seemed to spin. Sangwoo let his eyes slip shut, savoring the taste of vanilla on Jaeyoung’s lips. How could someone’s saliva taste so sweet? All semblance of logical thought slipped from Sangwoo’s mind, swept away by a raging hurricane. As lightning crashed and thunder boomed, he was left in total disarray—but his tongue moved of its own accord, exploring Jaeyoung’s mouth with an intensity that mirrored the overwhelming surge of emotion flooding him. It was as if Jaeyoung had placed some kind of spell on him, throwing his feelings completely off course. The only thing in his mind was the urge to devour the man he was kissing, to stake his claim on him. Whether this strange desire was something he wanted to preserve was not something Sangwoo could decide in this particular moment. He just felt the heat of it rushing through him, setting every nerve alight. After what felt like forever, Sangwoo shoved Jaeyoung away with both hands, his lungs screaming for air. He hunched over slightly like he had run a marathon, panting and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Jaeyoung stared at him, his brow furrowed slightly. “Damn,” he said, his voice a low, husky whisper. “I didn’t take you for such a wild kisser.” Sangwoo immediately felt another surge of desire, followed by crushing regret. His condition hadn’t improved in the slightest—in fact, it had worsened even further. He stood there, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps, grappling with how he was supposed to quell the fire raging inside him. Wait until Monday, he told himself. After that, I won’t have to deal with this anymore. For a moment, they stood there in silence, Jaeyoung studying Sangwoo’s face with a quiet, intense focus. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or a genius,” the psycho said abruptly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sangwoo responded curtly. “Bye.” Rushing back to his seat, he slung his backpack across his shoulders and left the studio without another word, afraid he’d do something completely rash if he stayed for any longer. return 0; Sangwoo had witnessed the madhouse his campus became during its annual festival in the past, so he was prepared for what he saw: a jumble of tacky events, ugly banners fluttering in the wind, tents in every color, and students wearing monstrous costumes. Loud shouting, accompanied by music, blared throughout the space. Basically, it was a house of horrors made entirely for Sangwoo’s five senses. “This is sooo cool, right?!” Sangwoo’s assessment of Jihye was usually positive. After all, she had proven herself to be an incredibly logical student with a flexible way of thinking. However, she wasn’t acting like herself as she walked through the festival. Instead, her eyes were wide with joy and wonder as she exclaimed things like “That looks delicious!” or “Whoaaa, awesome!” The two of them had met at exactly 11:00 AM as she’d requested and watched a performance put on by the magic club where the members had tried to convince the audience they could escape the laws of physics. At 12:02 PM, Jihye had dragged him over to a tarot café where he’d eaten a sandwich while trying to tune out the ramblings of students trying to derive meaning from illustrations. Next had been the school band’s obnoxiously loud performance at 12:42 PM, to which he sorely regretted not bringing a set of earplugs. Then they’d sat at the comic club’s booth and flipped through grimy, used comic books while sipping on drinks from 01:13 PM to 03:43 PM. By the time they left the booth, Jihye’s eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I can’t believe Aran died from leukemia,” she said tearfully. “That’s so depressing! Also, isn’t it crazy that she turned out to be half-siblings with Huihyeol?” “Why are you crying over a fictional character?” “Because it’s sad! Which one did you read?” “Seonhee and Jaeyoung.” “Oh, nice. Did you like it?” “No.” It had been the most boring plot that he’d ever had to suffer through. The only reason he’d flipped through it was because a particular name had repeatedly appeared in the speech bubbles. Jihye insisted on getting a picture of the two of them together as they took a brief stroll through campus. Apparently, she kept a photo journal to help with her terrible memory. Sangwoo obediently stood beside her as she snapped a selfie. Once they continued walking, he noticed a colorful poster on the wall and came to a stop. Join the Arcade Game Competition! Hosted by the Retro Gamers’ Club!!! The word “game” had jumped out at him first, but he found his interest further piqued as he scanned the rest of the poster—one of the prizes was a discontinued game console that he’d unsuccessfully tried to purchase in the past. Jihye gasped. “Wanna try it? Look, you can win that mechanical keyboard! I think that’s the same one I was thinking about buying!” “That’s true.” Quickly, Sangwoo weighed the benefits of entering the competition. If they participated and won, they’d both get something they wanted. It seemed like a rewarding activity, unlike the dull, pointless ones Jihye had dragged him to over the past few hours. He nodded, and they made their way to the engineering building, where the competition was being held. A large crowd had already gathered in the area. It seemed the participants could choose to compete in either Tetrus, Bubble Bubble, Tekkin Tag, or Metal Snail. Before entering the competition, Sangwoo and Jihye quickly discussed their strategies. “You’re trying to win the SMES-CX, right?” she said. “Yes, the prize you get from winning Tetrus.” She brushed back her hair in an odd way and smiled confidently. “I’ll get you that console. Don’t you worry.” According to Jihye, she’d been pretty good at Tetrus back when she was a kid. She’d been the undisputed champion in her elementary school, and her skills had achieved near godly status after beating adults left and right. Sangwoo had to admit he didn’t find the tale entirely trustworthy, but he agreed to her proposal because he wasn’t confident in his own Tetrus skills. “Let’s see… The keyboard is the prize for Tekkin Tag,” Jihye said thoughtfully. “Have you played that game before? I haven’t.” “Sure, I can enter that one.” It had been a long time since he’d last played Tekkin Tag, but Sangwoo knew he could do well—he’d spent countless hours playing the game in neighborhood arcades when he was a kid. The mechanics of fighting games were fairly simple, and besides, the competition was small in scale. If he picked a character and memorized their combos ahead of time, he figured he could probably wipe the floor with the other students. Sangwoo and Jihye glanced at each other, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie. “I win the console, you win the keyboard, and we exchange prizes!” she declared, eyes blazing with determination. “Sounds good!” After submitting their registration forms, Sangwoo and Jihye sat on the staircase by the venue for a few minutes, waiting for an open spot. There were around fifty students participating, and most of them were playing Tekkin Tag. A spot opened up in the Tetrus section first, and Jihye sprang to her feet, cracking her neck with the air of a winner. She looked at Sangwoo with a cocky smile. “I’ll be back with your console.” Her heels clicked against the ground as she walked over and settled into a low folding chair. For Tetrus, the goal seemed to be aiming to get the highest overall score instead of going head-to-head with anyone. Jihye picked the hardest difficulty, so more than half her screen was already filled with obstacles when she started, and the blocks started falling at lightning speed. A catchy rhythm started blaring from the machine as Sangwoo watched her hands fly across the controls. It quickly became obvious that Jihye’s hand-eye coordination, judgment, and controller skills were simply exceptional. Every single block fell in the perfect spot near instantly, and she was incredibly precise in how she moved and rotated them. Sangwoo felt a rush of satisfaction deep within his heart every time a long, straight piece cleared four lines of tightly stacked blocks. Jihye finally threw in the towel after lasting a solid fourteen minutes, when the blocks started raining down so fast that Sangwoo couldn’t see them. When she walked back to him, she was beaming. “Told you I’d win!” There was no question that she had crushed her competitors, scoring one hundred thousand more points than the student in second place. The console would definitely fall into her hands. “Good work!” Sangwoo said with a nod. He bestowed her with a crisp high five when she reached out. Jihye’s face lit up with a proud smile as she sat down beside him, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement. Sangwoo was still waiting for his turn, so he turned his focus to looking up two characters from Tekkin Tag and memorizing their combos. Finally, a seat opened up. “Good luck!” “I’ll try my very best.” Sangwoo walked over to the Tekkin Tag section. Two arcade machines were set up facing each other, one for each dueling competitor. A large crowd of onlookers had gathered around them, and—unlike any of the other stations—two commentators were offering live commentary. “All right, who’s up next? Let me check the registration sheet… Another computer science major!” “Since when did this turn into a computer science meet-up…?” “I mean, to be fair…we’re computer science majors, too.” Sangwoo examined the guy standing at the machine across from him. He was wearing a baseball cap and plaid shirt and looked to be a couple years older and in good physical shape. “Our new challenger has picked…Ade! Did he seriously choose the worst character in the history of Tekkin Tag as his first pick? Maybe his hand slipped!” “Ade and…Tristan, huh? Quite the pair, really. If there’s one thing they have in common, it’s that they’re both unorthodox characters. If you can’t use them properly, they’re totally useless! All right, here we go, looks like they’re starting!” Ten seconds. That was all the time Sangwoo needed to lay low and observe how skilled his opponent was. The guy may have already beaten five other competitors, but Sangwoo could tell that his gameplay was full of unnecessary movements, and his reaction time was noticeably slow. “Ade goes for the low sweep!” one of the commentators roared. “He shuts down his opponent’s combo and goes for a drop kick! That’s a perfect wave dash…and there’s the bread and butter!” “Amazing play! This guy might be the best player we’ve had so far! I’m willing to bet five hundred won that his parents own an arcade!” Beating his first opponent had been so easy that Sangwoo was tempted to yawn. After the guy stood up, scratching his head awkwardly after his defeat, another student quickly took his place—this one wore a hat as well but looked a fair bit younger than the previous challenger. Sangwoo picked the same two characters for his next match. “Ade and Tristan again? Ooh, maybe he’s trying to send a message. Like, ‘I don’t even need to change up my strategy to beat garbage like you.’” “It’s also possible he doesn’t know how to play any other character… Oh, there it is! He parried our newcomer’s attack!” “That’s it, Ade’s got him! Our new challenger is looking a bit flustered! Infinite comboooo! And…he’s finished! Unbelievable!” After easily defeating his seventh opponent, Sangwoo waved at Jihye, who was cheering for him from the sidelines. The next two challengers were a total joke as well—their best strategy seemed to be pressing the buttons at random instead of coming up with a single decent combo. Eight, nine, ten… Before he knew it, he’d gone through fourteen opponents. One of the commentators whistled. “Impressive! Looks like we’ve got our champion… Just ten more minutes, and he gets the prize! There’s only one challenger left. Let’s see if Ade and Tristan can defend the throne!” “The final challenger has taken his seat! Hm, that’s an interesting outfit… Maybe he came straight from the cosplay club? Oh, who would’ve guessed? This one’s not a computer science major!” Slightly curious, Sangwoo took a peek at his last opponent. It was like the guy had been teleported to the festival straight from medieval Europe—he wore a red vest, a white shirt with ruffles, black dress pants, dark shoes, and had a high-collared cape draped over his shoulders. His face, however, was covered by the mask of a traditional Korean imp. What a weirdo, Sangwoo thought absently as he selected Ade and Tristan again. “You got this, Sangchoo!” Jihye shouted, and Sangwoo pumped his fist in the air confidently. Suddenly, his opponent’s character dashed forward and struck Sangwoo’s character with a mid-range attack. Sangwoo quickly dodged to stop his character from being flung into the air, but his HP still took a huge hit. This one might be difficult… “Holy shit, that strike was lightning fast! Looks like our last challenger has a pretty good grip on playing Rossie!” “Rossie is definitely one of the best characters in the game. Do you think our defending champion can win with a trash character like Ade? Let’s wait and see!” The opponent’s character darted back and forth constantly, landing quick jabs on Sangwoo’s. At first glance, it looked like he was shifting around too much, but he never fell into any of Sangwoo’s traps. There was a quiet precision in his approach, almost as if he had a natural talent at measuring the distance between his character and his opponent’s. “Ooh, that could’ve been a wall splat! A good call on the defender’s part!” “The challenger just screwed up Rossie’s combo! So close… He could’ve won the entire thing!” “He might’ve messed up, but he’s still crazy fast! High, high, low… Dang, his moves are totally unpredictable!” The challenger’s constant barrage of attacks made it impossible for Sangwoo to execute his combos. Realizing Ade wasn’t the best character for the opponent’s complex gameplay, he quickly switched to Tristan, who he could use to KO his opponent as long as he managed to get the character in the air. The second I launch him upward, it’s game over. “And now we have Tristaaaaan! Oh, he’s immediately looking for an opening! RP4, RP4, RP4! He’s really going for it… Oh, there it is! The double uppercut! He’s in the air!” “Aerial combo! Three hits, four hits… He just keeps going! Holy shit, what year is he in? Is he our underclassman?” “Who cares? From now on, I bow to him! Oh, the challenger is flabbergasted! He’s done! KO! KO!” As soon as Rossie was taken down, Sangwoo’s opponent’s backup character appeared on screen. Unfortunately, Sangwoo let his guard down, his opponent unleashed a combo out of nowhere. “Oh my, would you look at that? Looks like our challenger is really pissed now!” “A low fake, then…bread and butter! This changes everything! Who will seize victory?” Sangwoo’s character took a heavy beating and died after taking another 30 percent of the opponent’s HP. Gritting his teeth, he called on Ade again. It was time for a deathmatch. “Our challenger is playing some impressive mind games here.” “Yes, but our defender is also flawless and precise! It’s like he’s hooked into the game system itself! Will he become the final champion, or will the fifteenth challenger take him down?” Sangwoo and his opponent exchanged a few jabs and low strikes. His opponent tried to land a left uppercut combo, but Sangwoo shut it down immediately. Unfortunately, his counterattack was blocked as well. Sweat started to pool in his palms, and his nerves pulled tight as he leaned closer to the screen, every fiber of his being focused on the game. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Sangwoo noticed his opponent bouncing his leg. There was something oddly familiar about the movement, and his gaze shifted to the knee jutting out from beneath the arcade machine. The brief distraction nearly cost Sangwoo the match. His opponent’s next move almost launched his character into the air. A bead of cold sweat rolled down Sangwoo’s back. He knew that leg. The way it was bouncing brought a certain someone to mind—intensely. Suddenly, he heard a low voice. “Done with your research, huh?” Sangwoo felt a chill race down his spine. After quickly shifting his character to the corner of the screen, out of his opponent’s reach, he craned his neck to the side to peer around the machines. Despite his opponent’s bizarre mask, Sangwoo could sense it—the asshole’s gaze had met his. The voice continued, “I sure hope you’re prepared for Monday.” “Jae…young?” Sangwoo whispered in disbelief. “What are you…doing here?” Tearing his gaze away, he grabbed the controller again, but his composure was shattered. “Or does your ‘research’ involve gaming at a festival, hm?” Ade was crumbling under Lilith’s relentless attacks. “I’m guessing…” Sangwoo watched his opponent’s low-hitting rage drive unfold in slow motion. It was going to be fatal—and it was far too late to dodge. “…you’re pretty damn confident in your technique, Sangwoo.” A mid-level kick struck Ade right in the face, reducing his HP bar by more than half. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” Lilith landed a deadly combo, and Ade collapsed to the ground. Amid the loud roar from the spectators, the commentators shouted something, but Sangwoo could only sit there, dazed. return 0; “No, no, it’s okay! You can have it.” “Keep it. I don’t deserve it.” Sangwoo trudged along, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was empty-handed, unlike Jihye, who held the SMES-CX. The shame was crushing—they had promised to do an exchange after winning the prizes, but he had failed dismally. “I really don’t mind,” Jihye said sympathetically. “Like, I don’t even know how to use this thing. It’s so old.” “You can sell it on the marketplace I showed you last time.” “Why don’t I sell it to you, then?” Sangwoo perked up immediately, impressed by the novel solution—the second one she’d come up with in one day. His mind raced, quickly piecing together the optimal course of action. “You can create a listing later this evening,” he said excitedly. “I’ll find it and reach out to you on the app. Make sure not to sell it to anybody else—” “Geez, you’re so silly sometimes.” Jihye burst out laughing, grabbing his shoulder for support, but he turned away slightly, letting her hand fall back to her side. After chuckling for about a minute, she handed him the paper bag that held the console. “Here you go. Transaction complete.” “What…?” “Take me to dinner tonight, your treat. That can be your payment.” He hesitated. “But…this console is worth more than one hundred thousand won.” “If you don’t like the terms, feel free to give it back,” she said, extending her hand sternly. Sangwoo’s mind began to race. His stomach turned as he recalled the text he had received the previous night. His original plan had been to leave the festival in a few minutes and head back home so he could prepare himself. But his confidence had plummeted rapidly since Friday, when he’d first learned how men were supposed to have intercourse. Frankly, he didn’t think he could do it. He’d been planning on apologizing to Jaeyoung and calling off their arrangement anyway, so… Clutching the console to his chest, he said, “No, it’s fine. We can go to dinner.” “Great!” Jihye covered her lips with one hand and chuckled mirthfully for a while, and Sangwoo shot her a strange look. The sun had dipped well below the horizon, and the path to the humanities building was illuminated by lights in various shades as Jihye pulled Sangwoo along. Colorful ribbons decorated the area—a sight he found slightly grating—and booths lined the path, each set up by a different club: an a cappella karaoke bar, an aquarium-themed restaurant, a dog café, and even a board game stall. Jihye, who had been walking silently, suddenly perked up like an excited puppy. “Ooh, let’s go to that one!” she exclaimed, pointing to one with a long line stretching away from it. “The Haunted Tavern,” the sign read. A grim reaper and a female ghost, dressed in a traditional white Korean hanbok with long black hair, stood by the entrance, playfully scaring customers as they entered. When Sangwoo and Jihye walked up to the hostess, who was dressed as an ogre from Korean folklore. She kept apologetically repeating the same line, “I’m sorry, but we’re full. You’ll have to wait for an hour and a half even if you put your name on the waitlist.” “Oh… That’s a shame. It looks super interesting,” Jihye said, frowning in disappointment. Personally, Sangwoo wasn’t particularly interested in ghosts or haunted taverns, but the paper bag in his hand felt like a weight on his conscience. After what Jihye had done for him, getting her into the restaurant she wanted was the least he could do. “Wait here,” he said, quickly pushing his way through the crowd. He slipped into the tent. The dark, cave-like interior was filled with all sorts of creepy decorations. There were ten tables, each of them occupied. Servers darted around the tent with plates full of food, occasionally slipping into their roles to entertain the customers. Sangwoo spotted a zombie, a magician, a shaman, an angel, a demon, a vampire, and even a version of Frankenstein’s monster. His eyes drifted to the vampire, who stood leaning on one leg with his arms crossed. The figure seemed strangely familiar. Wait, could that be…? The last challenger who’d defeated him in the arcade game competition had been dressed in the exact same outfit. Sangwoo squinted at the vampire, trying to get a better look, but then the creature suddenly spun around. Their gazes locked. It felt like someone had whacked him in the head with a hammer. His mind whirling, Sangwoo staggered backward and ended up running into the hostess. “I’m sorry, but we’re full,” she said, as if reciting a prerecorded message. “Okay. I’m leaving now,” he replied quickly, turning to leave. To his dismay, he heard the vampire speak up from behind him. “Hey, can we set up another table?” “Huh? There’s literally no more space, Jaeyoung!” “Kick out the ones who are done eating, then.” Sangwoo rushed out of the tent and found Jihye in the crowd. “They don’t have any more tables,” he explained frantically. “We’ll have to go somewhere else.” She gave him a dejected nod. They’d just started to walk away when the hostess ran out of the tent, glancing around until her eyes found Sangwoo. “Excuse me! Guy with the hat!” she shouted. “You can come on in. A table opened up!” “It’s fine,” he said immediately. “I saw that it was completely full. We’re leaving now.” “I’d come and sit down, if I were you,” the hostess said in a suddenly flat voice that made Sangwoo pause. In that brief moment of hesitation, the Frankenstein’s monster and zombie servers emerged from the tent and grabbed him by his arms. He couldn’t fight back as they were too strong. They had to be student athletes of some kind. “Right this way, sir!” Frankenstein’s monster said cheerfully. “Let me go! This is kidnapping!” As Sangwoo flailed around, trying to free himself, Jihye stepped aside to talk with the hostess. “Wow, we got super lucky, Sangwoo!” she said with a delighted laugh. She slipped into the tent, leaving Sangwoo with no reinforcements. He barely managed to smack Frankenstein’s monster away, but his efforts were rendered useless when the zombie pushed him forward. Unfortunately, the two servers were much stronger than he was, and he was dragged helplessly into the tent. The vampire stood there, staring at Sangwoo and Jihye with an irritated scowl. “Welcome in,” he bit out. His hair was slicked back with wax, revealing his flawless forehead. Dark eyeliner accentuated his eyes, and his face was covered with a layer of pale foundation. Fake blood dripped from his lips. Despite the creepy makeup, Jaeyoung somehow still managed to look incredible, standing out like a swan among crows compared to the other costumed servers. Even as he stood in front of Sangwoo, students lingered nearby, waiting to take a picture with him. “Good to see you, Jaeyoung!” Jihye exclaimed. Jaeyoung smiled. “Long time no see, Jihye. I’ll have to throw in some dishes on the house for you.” “Really? Thank you so much! By the way, your costume and makeup look amazing! You could’ve stepped off the set of Dracula!” Her comment was met with a careless nod. “I see you two are…on a date?” Jaeyoung said, the last word rising in question. “Oh, no! No way!” Jihye chuckled awkwardly. “Sangchoo is treating me to dinner because he owes me something.” “I see. I hope you two have a good time.” Jaeyoung walked away without another word. Despite not having eaten anything in the past few hours, Sangwoo felt like he was about to throw up. In contrast, Jihye seemed to be in a pretty good mood. “Wow, these decorations are amazing! The drama club always goes all out. I love it,” she said, snapping pictures of the pumpkin and bat decorations hanging from the ceiling. Then she slipped her phone back in her pocket and said in a hushed voice, “You know…I wouldn’t have come in here if I’d known this was the drama club’s booth.” “Why?” At this, she glanced around like a spy, making sure nobody was listening. Then she whispered, “I don’t think Jaeyoung likes me very much.” “Why?” “Just a gut feeling, I guess.” “But…I don’t see why he would dislike you.” “I know,” Jihye said with a sigh. “It was really bothering me…but maybe I was imagining it, based on how he was talking to me just now. So I feel much better.” Sangwoo decided to refrain from commenting, though he was still frowning in incomprehension. “By the way…” Jihye said in a low voice, “I need to tell you something.” She leaned over the table as if she was about to discuss something highly confidential. Sangwoo followed suit, but only because he couldn’t hear her very well. The orange glow of the candlelight cast a shimmering reflection on Jihye’s dark irises. Suddenly, he realized he’d never taken such a close look at her face before. There were faint dimples on her cheeks, and— “Abracadabra!” A student dressed as a wizard with a lightning mark drawn on his forehead ran up to their table and interrupted the conversation by thrusting a menu between them, effectively severing their eye contact. Sangwoo returned to his original position, maintaining a straight back as he examined said menu. The items—which included a horrifried rolled-egg omelet, a serving of primordial fish roe rice, and a bowl of spine-chilling fish cake stew—were admittedly a bit pricey, but the cost was nothing compared to the value of the console Jihye had won for him. “You can order whatever you want, as long as it’s within one hundred and thirty thousand won.” “Okay!” Jihye pored over the menu for a bit, then settled on the rancid tempura udon. Sangwoo ordered a bowl of maddening kimchi stew along with lint ball rice. The wizard disappeared after taking their orders, and Sangwoo turned his attention back to Jihye, only to realize she looked slightly irritated. “What were you about to say?” “Oh…nothing. I’ll tell you later.” “All right.” Silence settled over the table. Though Sangwoo sat motionless, he was on high alert, paying close attention to everything happening in the tent. More specifically, he wanted to know what Jaeyoung was doing, who he was talking to, and what he was talking about. Jaeyoung seemed to be roaming around, his voice popping up everywhere. One minute, he was laughing and joking with people Sangwoo didn’t recognize—the next, he was taking orders and serving food. As he listened closely, Sangwoo’s heart began to beat slightly faster. Jihye’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Hey, want me to tell you a funny story?” “What…? Okay, go ahead.” “A tuna kimbap was walking along the street with a cheese kimbap, and then they ran into pickled radish, who—” “Graaaaaaah!” The server dressed as Frankenstein’s monster shoved his head right in front of Jihye, and she shrieked, jumping a foot into the air. “Aaaaah! Oh my God!” She seethed for a moment after the server walked away, but didn’t complain—she probably knew that eating at a haunted tavern came with some playful jumpscares. Finally, she grumbled, “The servers are a bit mean, don’t you think?” “You’re the one who wanted to eat here.” “Yeah… That’s true, I guess.” Their conversation fizzled out once again. For a while, Jihye sat there, fiddling with her fingers. Then, she said abruptly, “Sangwoo. I’ve been meaning to ask… Do you have a girlfriend?” “No,” he responded curtly. But internally, he was thinking: What kind of question is that? She perked up visibly. “Really? Well, if you ever found the right person…would you consider getting into a relationship?” No. I’m too busy with school, he was about to say. But he was rudely interrupted by a demon, who raced up to them and shouted something in a strange language, presumably some kind of curse—though Sangwoo’s money was on the moment being completely improvised. The demon disappeared as quickly as she had come. “What was that about?” Sangwoo muttered under his breath. For a while, Jihye stayed silent. Then she said, “Let’s just eat and leave.” “Sure. Whatever you want.” “Okay… It’s so loud in here that I can barely hear myself think.” At first, Sangwoo thought she was overreacting a bit. As the night progressed, though, he began to empathize with her more and more. The servers seemed to deliver their dishes whenever Jihye tried to say something, and once they actually started talking, a drama club member jumped in and ruined the flow of the conversation. He figured it was a coincidence, but Jihye was right—the Haunted Tavern was not an ideal location for any conversation. But maybe it didn’t even matter. Even as Jihye tried to talk to him, his attention was on a certain someone who’d never approached their table throughout the entire dinner, not even giving Sangwoo a chance to take another look at his costume. Meanwhile, he’s letting everyone else take pictures with him, he thought petulantly. I guess I’m nothing but a friend with benefits. Of course, even that label would disappear soon enough. Sighing, he slouched against his chair. The more he tried to imagine having sexual intercourse with Jaeyoung, the more he despaired. How was he supposed to insert his penis into Jaeyoung’s anus? And even aside from that, the mere idea of seeing Jaeyoung in pain like the men in the audiovisual materials he’d referenced made him balk. As it turned out, Jaeyoung kept his word about providing dishes on the house—their table had already received three bottles of soju, a serving of dried squid, a bowl of fruit, and a rolled-egg omelet that they’d never ordered. Even Jihye, who’d been adamant about leaving the tent as soon as possible, crumbled at the enticing sight of free food and drinks. “You handle your liquor pretty well,” she remarked. The amount of soju Sangwoo was drinking was probably three times what Jihye was pouring for herself—the copious amount of stress he’d felt over the weekend was making him want to drink more than usual. Sangwoo’s mind was like a compiler with about a hundred red error codes flashing on the screen. There were so many unsettling, ambiguous emotions simmering inside him that he couldn’t even begin to untangle them: a strange mix of hurt, fear, disappointment, resistance to the idea of having sexual intercourse, overwhelming anxiety, an ever-present desire, and even a feeling of defeat after losing the keyboard… If alcohol could wash the feelings away, he would drown himself in it. The Frankenstein’s monster server lumbered back to their table. “Grrrr… Soju and side dishes. Grrrrrr…” “More? Thank you! You sure it’s okay for us accept so much?” “Grr… Foolish humans…” “Hold on, let me take the buttered corn,” Jihye said. “I don’t want you to drop it.” Her initial wariness of the server seemed to have vanished now that she’d gotten used to his pranks and jumpscares. Once again, they silently helped themselves to the free food and alcohol. After a couple more glasses, Jihye’s face had become visibly flushed, and she began to giggle and hum under her breath, as she swayed from side to side. Sangwoo blinked slowly, his eyelids feeling bizarrely heavy. He, too, was incredibly tipsy. “Sangwoo, remember what I said…about needing to tell you something?” “Yes. You can say it now.” But Jihye shook her head. She clumsily reached up to brush her hair back, scooted her chair closer to the table, and looked at him very solemnly. “No. I’ll tell you next time. I’m worried I’ll say something that I don’t mean because I’m a bit drunk.” “Next time? When?” “I’m sure I’ll get another chance. Just remember all the fun stuff we did today…like reading comic books, playing arcade games, and…drinking. Okay?” Jihye smiled, extending her hand. Sangwoo recognized the gesture from before, when she’d won the gaming console—she was asking for a high five. The memory brought a small chuckle to his lips as he raised his right hand, bringing it closer to hers… But his hand ended up pressed against the vampire’s palm instead, the monster’s five long fingers holding him captive. “Hate to ruin the moment, kids, but it’s closing time,” Jaeyoung said, tossing Sangwoo’s hand back into his lap. When Jihye stared at him with a look of disbelief, still holding out her hand, he flashed her a bright smile. “Have you told your parents you’re gonna be late?” “I’ll be fine,” she managed to say. “I don’t have a curfew, and my parents are pretty easygoing.” “That doesn’t mean you should stay out late. They’ll be worried! If you rush, you should be able to catch the last train, wherever your neighborhood is.” Deciding their conversation didn’t have much meaning to him, Sangwoo let his eyes slip shut. He was suddenly feeling very sleepy. It was strange—now that he could hear Jaeyoung talking right above him, his inner turmoil had dissipated, replaced by a pleasant buzz. He knew nothing had been resolved, but… It had to be the alcohol. “I’ll get going, then. Thank you for your concern,” Jihye responded stiffly, and an awkward silence settled. “Come on, Sangchoo.” “Don’t worry about him,” Jaeyoung cut in. “I’ll make sure he gets home safe.” “Sorry…?” “I can’t have him walking home when it’s so dark outside. It’s a dangerous world, you know.” Jihye stared at him, dumbfounded. “Take care, Jihye.” Sangwoo’s consciousness faded for a moment, then slowly drifted back. When he finally managed to reopen his eyes, he saw Jihye briskly walking out of the tent. Though he knew he should head home, he couldn’t find the strength to do it. The tent was bustling with students darting around, picking up silverware and plates from tables. Jaeyoung was there, too, saying something to a student he couldn’t see… The older man glanced over at him, their eyes meeting. Sangwoo’s lips moved of their own accord, spreading into a beaming smile. Damn it… I probably look like an idiot. He turned his face away with a self-deprecating scowl. His chest was a whirlwind of soaring excitement and overwhelming anxiety. Then, all of a sudden, his vision went dark—it took him a moment to realize a large hand had covered his eyes. His heart skipped a beat, and his lips parted involuntarily. “Hey, Hyungjin. You know where my car is, right?” “Yeah.” “Would you mind putting him in the passenger seat?” “Sure thing. I’ll take your keys, then. What about you? Aren’t you going home?” “Not before I change and get this makeup off.” “Oh, that’s a good point. Anyway… Thanks for helping out today even though you’re so busy. We got an amazing turnout because of you.” “No problem. I had fun, too.” “It’s crazy that you stayed until close when you were only supposed to pop in for a bit near opening time. Seriously, thank you so, so much.” “It was only a few hours. No biggie.” Jaeyoung’s hand finally lifted, and light seeped back into Sangwoo’s world. When he opened his eyes, the psycho was already walking away from him. “Hey, excuse me!” Someone shook Sangwoo roughly by the shoulder. “You need to wake up. Jaeyoung asked me to take you to his car.” It was Frankenstein’s monster, pulling on Sangwoo’s arm as if he was playing a one-sided game of tug of war.