Chapter 31
by GideonJust then, his phone buzzed again.
Is Lee Taemo here?
This time, the question was easy to answer. Juhyeon’s fingers flew across the screen.
No, he went out for an appointment.
He tapped send and bounced his leg restlessly. It’s not like we’re even dating, he thought. His lips went dry with anticipation as he waited for a reply. But when the response arrived immediately, his tension seemed to melt away.
Wanna come over?
Yyes
He sent the reply in a rush, not even bothering to delete the typo. Then he ran to his room and started getting ready. It was time to leave behind the loneliness that filled his large, empty house.
Perhaps because he’d walked this route so often it was like clocking in for work, he didn’t get lost once. Puddles dotted the ground, confirming it had indeed rained. He carefully stepped around them as he approached the karaoke bar. Passing the unlit sign, he hurried down the stairs to the basement. The musty air, usually unpleasant, felt strangely welcoming after so long.
Just as I turned toward the karaoke entrance, I came face-to-face with Kang-i, who had swung the glass door wide open to wait for me. His expression was the same as ever, but his cheeks seemed a little more sunken.
“Oh? You’re already out here.”
“Hurry up and get inside so I can lock the door,” Kang-i urged, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.
I quickly stepped into the karaoke place, and the sound of the glass door locking echoed behind me. When I just stood there awkwardly instead of heading straight to our room, Kang-i took the lead. We entered Room 4—the same one where I’d caused a huge scene, crying and throwing a fit at Lee Taemo. On the spacious table, instead of documents and a laptop, a few bags of potato chips and some Capri Suns were laid out, as if they had been waiting for me all along.
“Sorry for making such a scene. Nothing got lost or anything.”
Before Juhyeon could even settle onto the long sofa, Kang-i offered an apology.
Unlike the other guys who had tried to brush things off with vague excuses, Kang-i’s words were honest and direct. Juhyeon responded awkwardly.
“Ah, yeah. No, it’s fine. You don’t need to apologize… As long as nothing’s missing, that’s what matters.”
“I don’t even know anymore. Lee Taemo said he’d handle everything. He’s taking full responsibility, so don’t blame me later, okay?”
Got it? Kang-i’s round eyes pressed him for an answer. The slight puffiness around them suggested he’d been crying recently. What could it possibly be about? He’d said it wasn’t a misunderstanding about Juhyeon stealing something, but it didn’t seem to be just a personal matter between the two of them either.
Juhyeon met Kang-i’s wide gaze, forced a smile, and finally spoke.
“…You’re not going to answer me, are you?”
Lee Taemo had said it wasn’t the right time yet, but Kang-i might be different. After all, he’d called me all the way here—maybe there was a chance. A heavy silence stretched between them. Just as the stale, musty smell of the karaoke room began to feel familiar, Kang-i slowly nodded.
“I’m just Lee Taemo’s lackey too. There’s nothing I can do.”
His voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking. Seeing his defeated expression made my heart ache. He said it wasn’t the right time, so he’ll tell me the reason eventually. Pushing him now would only make things more difficult for him.
“Alright. I’ll just put all the blame on Taemo-hyung. Should I write a pledge or something?”
“…Forget it. You talk too much.”
“Me? That’s a first.”
Kang-i picked up the small notebook that had been sprawled on the sofa and flipped through a few pages. He held out a page, now fully open, covered in Juhyeon’s handwriting. It was crammed with text—Juhyeon had written down everything he could remember about Dongwoo.
“See? Your handwriting fills up most of this notebook.”
Kang-i quickly flipped through a few more pages, but most were just brief notes. The only pages densely packed with writing were the ones about Dongwoo.
Juhyeon scratched his eyebrow awkwardly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Kang-i tore out the two pages Juhyeon had filled and handed them over.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Juhyeon’s gaze drifted to the returned papers.
Because he and Dongwoo had grown up like brothers, Juhyeon knew more about him than most. That was why Dongwoo cutting off contact without a word was so baffling, and the sudden severing of their bond felt so hollow. The Dongwoo Juhyeon knew might have been a rough-and-tumble type, but he was too soft-hearted to ever leave his younger brother alone.
Juhyeon gently traced the torn edge of the paper with his fingertips before cautiously looking up.
“Why? Did you look into it… is he in prison?”
Honestly, that was the most likely explanation. Dongwoo wasn’t as bad as Gang, but he still hung around some rough crowds. Juhyeon figured he might have gotten into some serious trouble and ended up in a juvenile detention center or prison. Even though they’d lived together, they weren’t legally family, so if he were locked up, no one would have contacted Juhyeon anyway.
“I don’t know.”
Kang-i gave a vague reply as he slid a Capri Sun toward me. He looked troubled. I realized I shouldn’t press him any further. At the same time, I thought about the balance in my bank account. Now that I finally had enough money to hire a private investigator, I found myself leaning toward that option.
“You must have been hot on your way here, right? I chilled it a little.”
“Oh, yeah.”
I played along as Kang-i changed the subject. I folded the few sheets of paper in my hand and tucked them into the pocket of my windbreaker. I absolutely can’t bring up Dongwoo hyung again, I vowed. If I kept insisting and throwing a fit, Kang-i would end up hating me.
“By the way, what’s with your face? Why do you look like that?”
“Kang-i, your face looks way worse,” Juhyeon retorted. “I only look like this because I’m sick.”
He ran a hand over his own dull, sallow skin. It was true—Kang-i looked even worse than he did, despite Juhyeon having spent the last few days tossing and turning in bed.
“…You were sick? Where?”
Juhyeon felt Kang-i’s gaze sweep over him, a quick, searching look. The genuine concern in his eyes made Juhyeon inwardly exhale in relief. It was clear now: Kang-i’s anger had completely faded.
“The doctor said it’s air-conditioning sickness,” Juhyeon replied casually. “I’ve never had it before. Such a luxury disease.”
Kang-i stared at him for a long moment before grabbing the AC remote. Beep, beep. The room’s perpetually chilly air began to warm.
“I wondered who’d end up catching that. Are you feeling okay now?”
“Air conditioning sickness isn’t all that bad, you know?” Juhyeon’s lips quirked into a grin. She knew her face must be a mess, but she couldn’t hide her smile.
The two of them spent a long time chatting about trivial things in the spacious karaoke room. From what he said, it seemed he’d also been through a lot of emotional turmoil over the past week. It sounded like he’d already talked things through with Taemo, but she wasn’t particularly upset that he’d left her out of the loop. It was enough that he’d called her out separately now to clear up the misunderstanding.
“Can I eat dinner here before I go?”
“What about Lee Taemo?”
“He said he’ll eat before coming home.”
Juhyeon thought of the meal Lee Taemo had left for her to reheat, but she didn’t have to eat it. The memory of being touched that he’d even worry about her meal felt like a lifetime ago.
“He’s eating dinner out? That’s unusual.”
“I don’t know. He was dressed up to the nines, so I guess he’s really planning to let loose.”
“Hmmm,” Kang-i hummed, nodding slowly as he dragged out the sound.
Juhyeon tapped the screen of her phone, which hadn’t vibrated once. He said he’d keep an eye on me, but he doesn’t even know I’m at Superman Noraebang? Or maybe this is fine? Maybe he was too busy having fun to even think about her.
Tsk. My mouth felt bitter for no reason, so I just kept stuffing innocent snacks into it, crunching away. Even so, the bitterness wouldn’t fade.
“Should we eat cup noodles at the convenience store right in front? I brought my check card. My treat.”
Kang-i, who was folding the empty snack bag into a paper’s-fold, replied nonchalantly.
“Lee Taemo hates it when we just get by on stuff like that. That’s why he doesn’t even keep ramen here.”
“So what? Who said you had to leave your spot?”
It’s not like I went out and forgot our promise or anything. The mart is just a place you can skip if you don’t feel like going, so there’s no need to dwell on it. It’s just that my mouth felt bitter today, and maybe because I’d been eating so many snacks, it felt dry and stale. That’s why I was craving ramen.
“Are you sulking because Lee Taemo left you behind?”
“Why would I be sulking?”
I shot back with a look of disbelief, but the truth was, he’d hit the nail right on the head. It wasn’t like Lee Taemo had any obligation to spend time with me. Still, if he was the one who’d initiated it—rubbing his lips against mine and all that—shouldn’t his attitude be a little different? Even if he was the kind of person who could do something like that without any emotion attached.
The memory of his soft, alcohol-scented lips resurfaced. Fearing he’d notice the heat rushing to my face, I shot up from my seat.
“Let’s go, hurry. I’ll treat you to a full convenience store course.”
“Hmm. Is a patient allowed to eat stuff like that?”
Though his face showed his reluctance, Kang-i stood up without a fight. Since they couldn’t leave the karaoke room empty for long, they headed to the convenience store in the building right across the street—a walk of barely thirty steps.
The two sat side by side at the store’s counter and had a “simple” meal. “Simple” was a stretch; they polished off cup noodles, triangular kimbap, soft-boiled eggs, and even kimchi. Kang-i had been stuck eating bland fried rice while he was sick, and for the first time, he felt his stomach actually getting full.
“Ah, this feels just like when I used to skip school to hang out,” Juhyeon said, sipping his beer as a palate cleanser.
Kang-i crushed his empty Cola can with a loud crunch. “Did you drink beer back in school too?”
“I don’t know, I just… got swept up in it, I guess.”
“You don’t look the type, but you were a real delinquent, huh?”
“So, once I started drinking, I stopped going to school. I didn’t want to mess things up for everyone else.”
She chuckled as she spoke, but the real reason she couldn’t bring herself to go to school was something else. Perhaps because she hung out with the wrong crowd, she was always the one dragged into trouble whenever something went missing or a problem arose.
While the other kids’ parents would swoop in and get them out of trouble, Juhyeon couldn’t do that. She had no adults around to protect her. More often than not, she ended up taking the fall for others’ mistakes, being misunderstood and blamed. Over time, those experiences naturally pushed her away from school. She only vaguely remembered that the last uniform she wore was her high school summer one.
“How much could you have possibly messed things up?”
“…”
Kang-i muttered grumpily. It wasn’t much, but strangely, it felt like comfort. It sounded as if he understood Juhyeon’s entire life—a life that had never known the shelter of anyone else’s fence. Even after draining the last sip of beer, Juhyeon’s lips felt dry. Unable to find the words, Juhyeon just toyed with the empty can.
Kang-i, who had been watching silently, shot to his feet. He swiftly snatched the empty can from Juhyeon’s hand. His movements were a blur as he swept the scattered trash from the table into a pile.
“Stay seated.”
“Oh, let me help.”
His hands moved so fast that by the time Juhyeon half-rose from her seat, the table was already mostly cleared.
“You paid, so I’m cleaning up.”
With practiced efficiency, Kang-i stacked the empty cup noodle containers and wrappers before heading toward the trash can in the corner.
This is so weird, Juhyeon thought. I’m always the one cleaning up.
The awkwardness made him reach for his phone. He stared at the screen—still silent, unlike before—and tapped aimlessly at various apps.
…
Still no word from Taemo. He must not have gone home yet. How much fun is he having to be out for hours without a single message?
If Taemo could track Juhyeon’s location through his phone, there had to be a way for Juhyeon to do the same. He tapped through the few apps he had, searching for any clue.
“Let’s go.”
The moment Juhyeon sensed Kang-i approaching, he hurriedly pulled his hand away from his phone. He pretended he’d only been checking it to kill time.
Kang-i returned to Superman Noraebang, and Juhyeon began to wander the alleys, taking a slow, aimless stroll. He was ostensibly walking to aid his digestion, circling back and forth for no particular reason. His phone remained silent. There was no rush to go home; it would be dark and quiet anyway.
Perhaps it was because he’d always had at least one friend by his side when he lived in his old neighborhood, but walking alone felt strangely lonely. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled slowly, taking in the sights of the alleyways.
…Detective Kim, the Fixer?
His gaze was drawn to a red sign tucked between the buildings. Unlike Superman Noraebang, it had no lights, yet it caught his eye instantly.
“…”
A few bills and a debit card tucked into the pocket of her windbreaker. With this, whether it cost seven million or ten million won to find Dongwoo, she wouldn’t have to tremble in fear like she did before.
Juhyeon lingered in front of the shabby building for a long time. She checked several times if the lights were on on the second floor, where the private investigator’s office was located, and even pretended to browse the claw machine arcade on the first floor. She paced back and forth until sweat began to bead on her forehead, before finally climbing the stairs.
Unlike the other storefronts, the glass door of the agency was completely covered in stickers. There wasn’t even a gap to peer inside. Now that she had come all this way, she found herself hesitating for no reason. As she paced in front of the door, it swung open. A man with a thick beard pushed up his glasses and scanned Juhyeon.
“Oh? Are you the one who called yesterday? Wasn’t our appointment for Saturday?”
“…No. Do I need to make an appointment?”
“That’s usually the procedure, but…”
The man trailed off, then glanced at his watch. “Wait here for a moment,” he said, before slipping inside.
Juhyeon stood there blankly, her eyes fixed on the phone number taped to the glass door.
After a short wait, the door opened again. This time, a neat-looking middle-aged man stepped out, a bright smile on his face.
“If it’s nothing too complicated, do you want to come in now? I’ve got a gap between appointments.”
At his words, Juhyeon immediately looked down at her phone. Still no messages. This place wasn’t far from Superman Noraebang, so even if her location was tracked, she could just say she’d been killing time at the claw machine arcade.
“Yes. It’s nothing complicated.”
The slip of paper in her pocket was already crammed with information about Dongwoo. She wouldn’t have to waste her time twice. As Juhyeon nodded, the middle-aged man beamed and swung the door wide open.
And so, after several years, she stepped back into a private investigation agency. This time, her heart pounded with the hope that she would surely find Dongwoo.
“5111, 23…”
She kept repeating the number to herself as she left the agency. The detective had given her a number to call, but she couldn’t save it. He’d said only two people should be on this phone.
This time, the deal had gone through quite easily. The errand center she’d visited the year before had asked for a 7-million-won retainer, but here, it looked like she could negotiate it down to a much smaller 5 million. She had transferred 1 million won immediately, but she didn’t regret it.
Juhyeon was muttering the phone number to herself, memorizing it as she walked out of the alleyway. Just then, her phone—which had been silent all this time—buzzed.
Lee Pro.
It was Lee Taemo.
“Oh?”
Has he had enough of his fun?
Juhyeon pretended not to care, but her eyes sparkled with a hint of anticipation at the call she had been waiting for. Still, she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she scanned her surroundings, wondering if someone might be watching her from somewhere.
Her eyes darted around quickly before she cleared her throat with a dry cough.
“Hello?”
—Are you outside? I guess you’re finally feeling well enough to go out?
His low voice was laced with the sound of wind, suggesting he was driving. It had already been half a day since she’d left the house, yet he hadn’t checked her location even once in the meantime. A wave of relief washed over her, followed by a faint prickle of disappointment.
Juhyeon stopped in her tracks and shook her head quickly. Disappointment wasn’t an emotion she was allowed to feel right now.
“I actually went to a karaoke place. I contacted Kang-i first and met up with him. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
—Really? What did you do?
His reply was so nonchalant that her worries about him scolding her for contacting Kang-i without permission felt completely pointless.
“We talked, ate something… That’s all.”
—What could you two possibly have to talk about for so long? Are you still together?
Perhaps because she couldn’t see his expression, Taemo’s voice sounded a little more menacing. Of course, the question itself was perfectly ordinary.
“No, we said goodbye a while ago. Right now, I’m just… walking to digest, playing the claw machine… I’m heading home now.”
Since he hadn’t checked her location anyway, she figured she could keep the private investigator a secret for now.
Where are you?
“I just passed the post office.”
Wait there.
Taemo hung up without waiting for a response. Juhyeon slowed her pace as she stepped onto the street where the post office building stood.
“…What the hell?”
She stared blankly at her phone screen, which showed the call had lasted just over thirty seconds. It’s a short walk. Why bother coming to pick me up?
Despite her thoughts, Juhyeon turned toward the road.
Taemo must have been nearby. He pulled up just over five minutes later. His car was hard to miss, so she recognized it instantly.
“Hey. Get in.”
A rough, drawling voice drifted through the half-lowered window. Juhyeon couldn’t remember how many times he’d already thought that Taemo looked like a real gangster.
As Juhyeon climbed into the passenger seat, Taemo continued talking without so much as a greeting.
“What did you eat?”
“Just… a meal.”
“You didn’t eat ramen or some crap like that, did you? Still not thinking straight?”
Juhyeon recalled Kang-i’s words about how Taemo hated it when people skipped meals with cup ramen. The dinner Kang-i had personally prepared for him would still be sitting untouched at home. Wouldn’t he be upset if I ignored the effort someone went through for me? Juhyeon had stubbornly eaten his meal at the convenience store, and now he found himself stealing glances at Taemo.
“…No, I didn’t. I just ate something light. Did you eat before you came, hyungnim?”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re here early. I thought you’d be later.”
The roads were packed, probably because it was rush hour. Still, it was a straight shot to the house, so they should arrive in ten minutes. Juhyeon watched the line of cars, his gaze fixed on the traffic, when Taemo flicked on the right turn signal. Tick, tick. The rhythmic sound filled the car.
“We need to go to the grocery store.”
“…”
At the nonchalant remark, Juhyeon’s mouth fell open slightly, and he blinked rapidly. He hadn’t even considered that his face would be reflected in the window as the sky darkened outside. So, when Taemo let out a soft chuckle, Juhyeon just shifted his eyes silently.
“You said you’d make me pasta once you recovered. You even pinky-promised.”
“…You remembered?”
Taemo’s tone was casual, even a bit flippant, but it lacked any real teasing. So he doesn’t take promises lightly after all. Juhyeon felt a sudden wave of embarrassment for having been so sulky the whole time.
“You’ve been staring at me all day like a dog that needs to pee,” Taemo remarked.
“…”
“How could I possibly ignore that?”
Juhyeon hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious, but apparently, Taemo had sensed his feigned disappointment. Juhyeon didn’t deny it, nor did he get defensive. He simply kept his gaze fixed on the path to the supermarket.
The words he came home early just for their promise kept echoing in his mind. If I keep finding meaning in such trivial things, I’ll end up relying on him too much. He knew this, yet his heart continued to race, uncontainable and wild.
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