“I read the article. ProEdge wrote it, right?”
That was the first thing Mrs. Shim said as she opened the door.
“Yes. We sent out a press kit.”
“I see. Well, it’s a relief not having to deal with this kind of thing anymore. It was such a hassle, all those reporters. The ones with my number called me nonstop as soon as the articles came out. I just told them to talk to ProEdge and hung up.”
“You did well. We’ll handle it from here,” Jiheon told her.
She nodded, content. Then she led Jiheon into the living room.
“You must have been surprised when I invited you to lunch. But I figured—at this point, we’re practically family. I wanted to treat you to a meal, at least.”
She had already set the table, and it was clear she hadn’t ordered in—she’d made it all herself. Jiheon was taken aback, having expected to dine at the hotel restaurant.
“You made these yourself?” he asked.
“Oh my! Who else would have made them? This is what I do when I invite someone over. I cook,” she said with a laugh.
“That’s why we picked a residence suite. These days, they only come with electric cooktops, though. I still prefer a good gas stove.”
Jiheon took the seat in the middle, just as she suggested. Upon closer inspection, the dishes turned out to be impressive, even if there wasn’t a lot of variety. The dishes were mostly healthy and protein-rich—braised short ribs, grilled abalone, things like that. It reminded Jiheon that she was the mother of an athlete.
“Jaekyung isn’t picky about his food, but you know how you start craving Korean food when you live abroad. There aren’t that many Korean restaurants, and it’s usually better to just cook than to drive all the way to one.”
“I doubt any restaurant could serve something this nice,” Jiheon said, praising the food—based on appearance, at least. He hadn’t even tasted anything yet. She had even paid considerable attention to the plating.
“These are all dishes I used to make for Jaekyung a lot. I guess I feel a bit lighter now, knowing that I won’t have to cook like this once he retires.”
“So you’re not going to cook for him anymore once he retires?” Jiheon joked.
“Of course not. Why should I care what he eats when he’s done swimming?” she shot back, just as cheerfully.
“Our agency’s all about helping athletes live comfortably even after retirement. Guess I’d better start taking cooking lessons,” Jiheon said.
“Let him use all that money to buy himself food or something.”
Mrs. Shim waved it off.
“Not my business anymore.”
Jiheon chuckled at the exhausted look on her face. Then a door opened and Jaekyung emerged.
“I didn’t know you were home, Mr. Gwon,” Jiheon said, quickly getting to his feet. He thought Jaekyung was training.
“Why are you addressing me like that?” Jaekyung asked, walking into the living room with a frown.
“No need to be so formal. You can talk to him like a friend. It’s just us here,” Mrs. Shim said. Then she patted the seat next to her, telling Jaekyung to sit down.
“He didn’t say a word when I called him this morning. Then out of nowhere, he showed up early, saying he was tired. I’d cooked only two servings—I thought I’d have a nice, quiet chat with you, Mr. Jung. So I had to scramble to make chicken and seafood stew, and whatever else I could throw together. Though with a pressure cooker, it’s not that hard.”
“I see,” Jiheon said.
Jaekyung didn’t look the least bit interested, even though they were talking about him. Jiheon turned to Jaekyung, who was hunched over awkwardly thanks to the low table.
“You’re not ill or anything, are you?” Jiheon asked.
“None of your business,” Jaekyung said.
“Jaekyung!” Mrs. Shim snapped.
“How many times do I have to tell you to mind your tone?”
Then she gave Jiheon an awkward smile from across the table.
“He’s just saying that because he doesn’t like it when people worry about him,” she said.
Jiheon found it a little sad, the way she tried to cover for her son’s rudeness.
“Yes. I know,” Jiheon said, nodding slightly.
Mrs. Shim sighed deeply, seeing Jiheon smile.
“He’s not like that deep down. He just doesn’t know how to say things nicely, you know? How should I put it...”
“I’m honest,” Jaekyung said as he helped himself to some chicken from the stew.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Mrs. Shim asked sharply, finally losing her temper.
“You call that honesty? Everyone else just sees it as rude. Sometimes you need to soften your words. Make them easier to hear. Do you always have to say whatever pops into your head?”
Jiheon couldn’t quite hide his surprise. He had assumed Jaekyung’s insolence came from being the overly coddled family genius, but what he had just witnessed suggested otherwise. It seemed Mrs. Shim had brought it up more than once, without much success. If so, it wasn’t something that could be changed—this was simply who Jaekyung was.
“He wasn’t this bad before,” Mrs. Shim said apologetically. “He was never very sociable, even as a kid, but at least he wasn’t rude like this. Swimming changed him—or more precisely, the move to Ilsan did. I mean, all the attention he got when he was so young... As you know, Mr. Jung, the scene isn’t exactly... pleasant.”
She smiled bitterly at him. Jiheon thought he understood what she meant. She was right, it really wasn’t pleasant.
“Swimming happens in the water, but it’s a complete battlefield outside the pool. Everybody was laser-focused on spotting anyone even a little bit better and tearing them down. On the surface, they smiled and acted supportive. Think how much that must have twisted them inside! They’d say all these insincere things just to ask for a favor—or have him talk to the coach so their kid could join a training session. If they ever get turned down, they’ll go right behind your back and tear you a new one. A real jealous bunch.”
Mrs. Shim shuddered, and Jiheon understood every word she said. He could still remember the avid, jealous looks he’d gotten as a child—and even now, the memory made him sick. For Jaekyung, it must’ve been even worse.
“Now, me? I had experience. I knew how to deal with people like that. But him—he never had a sociable bone in him. Just imagine what that must have felt like,” she said, gesturing toward her son beside her.
Jaekyung didn’t even seem to be listening. He was too focused on methodically taking apart the chicken on his plate. Jiheon was surprised to see that he seemed to prefer wings to legs.
“He was polite for a while after we started at that swimming center, but it didn’t last. It didn’t take long before they started talking about him. Calling him arrogant, stuck-up, things like that. I would’ve loved to ignore them, but it just wasn’t possible. I kept running into them the whole time he trained there. So I told Jaekyung—if he couldn’t say anything nice to people like that, then just don’t say anything at all. And he started doing just that. Not a single word.”
So that’s what it was.
Jiheon finally understood why Jaekyung had kept so quiet around everyone at the swimming center.
Mrs. Shim’s advice—not to say anything if he couldn’t be polite—was sound enough. But unfortunately, Jaekyung wasn’t the best person to give it to. Most people would’ve taken those words as a prompt to be more polite, but Jaekyung just shut down—he stopped talking to people altogether.
“You know what I liked most about Australia? No one was out to get me. They only care about competing among themselves. They barely pay attention to foreign students. And parents at school don’t meddle nearly as much as they do back home.”
“Well, yes. Swimming in Korea does come with a bit too much of that kind of interference,” Jiheon said with a wry smile.
“It’s not like other countries, where kids start out with swimming as a hobby and naturally grow into athletes. Here, kids are trained from the start with one goal—to become athletes. No wonder the parents are so impatient. And for young athletes, the parents end up playing a much bigger role. They end up being part of the competition themselves. I get why some people pry, trying to gather information. I used to do the same,” Mrs. Shim said, implying that she wasn’t out to criticize people who did this. She seemed to know she wasn’t completely innocent, either.
“But I just don’t get why people make up rumors out of nowhere. And why do they care so much about other people’s families? It’s got nothing to do with swimming. You know my other son—the older one? Everyone knew he didn’t swim, but they just wouldn’t leave him alone, always poking around and asking things. It got to the point where he was almost neurotic.”
It was the first time Mrs. Shim had ever mentioned her eldest son. Jiheon figured it was a good time to ask about him.
“By the way, how is he? Jaejun?”
Then it hit Jiheon—he wasn’t sure if the name was Jaejun or Jaeyun. Thankfully, he’d gotten it right the first time. Mrs. Shim smiled.
“Of course. He’s doing just fine. You have no idea how grateful I was for the way you treated my Jaejun. He was really struggling—with the move, no friends, everything. But after he became friends with you, he said waiting at the pool didn’t feel so lonely anymore. That was such a relief.”