The minibar in the room had run out of the beer stockpiled earlier, so ‘I’ thought about taking a cold beer can from the kitchen fridge back to the room.
On a leisurely afternoon with nothing to do for the first time in a while, it seemed perfect to slowly flip through a favourite painter’s art book by the window while enjoying the gentle breeze with a beer.
‘I’ opened the fridge in the kitchen and hesitated for a moment before taking out two cans of beer. Then I moved towards the room.
Illye seemed to have stayed up all night, probably dealing with a backlog of tasks. When ‘I’ woke up in the morning and came out of the room in a daze, he was sitting at his desk, having pulled an all-nighter. Only after ‘I’ washed my face and regained some composure did he finish his work and go to bed.
Even when ‘I’ went out to the backyard to enjoy this sunny afternoon, he was still asleep.
Judging by the silence, he seemed to still be sleeping, but ‘I’ grabbed two cans of beer to offer one to him if he was awake. If not, ‘I’ would drink both.
Carrying the two large cans quietly, ‘I’ tiptoed towards the room. If he was still asleep, I had no intention of waking him.
Turning right at the end of the corridor led to his room, left led to ‘my’ room. The distance was so short it didn’t really matter, but that was how it was set.
At the corridor’s end, I looked to the right. The door that had been closed earlier was now open. He must have gotten up.
Thinking of delivering a cold beer perfect for waking up, I turned toward his room. Then suddenly realized something.
The study’s door opposite the bedroom was also slightly ajar.
He must have gotten up and sat in the study.
I thought he had finished his work and gone to sleep by morning, but apparently, he still had tasks remaining.
Scratching my head, I quietly approached. It felt awkward to just hand over a beer if he was working... but I decided to do it anyway. A beer not just to wake up but as a break during work couldn’t be bad.
Approaching the study, I prepared to say “I’m coming in” to the slightly open door but paused.
Low voices leaked out—he seemed to be on the phone with someone.
I pushed the door wider; it opened from one span to about three spans. Sensing the movement, he turned from the desk where he was talking.
I gestured with a slight hand motion to continue the call without minding me and entered the study, sitting down on the floor. I set the beer cans down beside me and leaned on the bookshelf, picking up a nearby book—a collection of photographic works.
Flipping through the mix of black-and-white and colour photos slowly, I picked up a beer can with one hand. The soft fizzing sound of carbonation bursting was pleasant to hear.
While I drank beer and flipped through the photo book, he continued his phone conversation.
“...Yeah, not bad. Quite good terms. ...Ah, right. Compared to the work, it might even be considered an unusually good pay. So, what about the duration?”
I felt his gaze fall on the top of ‘my’ head but he didn’t care.
I guessed it was a job request coming in. He often got work like this from somewhere. Sometimes I could guess what the work was, sometimes not. If it was something he could handle from home, I saw him going back and forth and could roughly tell. But if it required going outside, I had no idea. I never asked either. The more I knew, the darker the world seemed.
But this request sounded like it required going out.
I wondered how long he would be gone this time.
Usually a few days, sometimes a few weeks, but rarely for weeks on end. Most times he came back within a week.
How can a wanted man wander around so freely? What are the police even doing...?
Putting my own situation aside, lost in such thoughts, he broke the silence for a moment and said,
“I’m not doing it.”
That short reply made me look up from the photo book.
His hair stuck out a few strands, as if he had just gotten out of bed. His slightly furrowed brows looked amusing, like a child sulking.
By the way, he had been quite pleased a moment ago, saying the pay was excellent and the conditions extraordinary, so what was it that made him bluntly refuse now?
I sipped my beer and looked at him. “Yeah, that offer is surely hard to refuse,” I thought, but he didn’t seem regretful and repeated sharply: “Still not doing it.”
On the other side of the line, the other person was apparently complaining. I faintly caught the voice saying something like “Such good terms don’t come often.” This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
But he didn’t even listen and clicked his tongue.
“Too long. I’m not going to be out for a whole month. The pay is good, but I’m not interested enough to be away that long.”
Ah, right. He had just come back a few days ago after being away for about three weeks. No wonder he wanted a break.
I nodded quietly and chewed the edge of the beer can.
Then suddenly,
“Did you hide some honey pot at home or what?! Why won’t you do such a good job!!”
The voice was so loud it reached ‘my’ ears, sounding like an angry outburst. Judging by the tone, it seemed to be a suspicious old colleague who sometimes called him. I hadn’t seen him but guessed he was one of those old comrades who shared a crazy den...
Startled by the booming voice, I raised my eyes from the photo book blinking at him. By chance, he glanced my way and our eyes met.
But he just turned his head and replied bluntly,
“Don’t make me say it twice. I’m not doing it.”
Then he hung up immediately.
“......”
I sat on the floor with a beer can in my mouth and stared quietly at him. He clicked his tongue and picked up the beer next to me, as if knowing it was his from the start.
“If it’s such a good job, why don’t you just do it?”
“No.”
“Hmm... Well, you just came back, so it’s fine to rest for a while if you don’t need to work so hard. Still, you had been out on jobs quite often recently.”
I nodded and muttered, lowering my gaze back to the photo book.
Ah. I liked this photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson from 1952...
While stroking a black-and-white photo, I heard him approach and speak.
“But I’m not earning much. Maybe because of the recession, the pay’s low.”
Sitting bent over in the chair, he looked down at the photo I was watching and said lightly.
“......”
“......”
I hesitated whether to tell him that late at night, when the water kettle ran dry and I came out to drink and return to my room, I overheard him talking about a payment of millions of euros through the gap in the study door.
But looking at his shameless mouth calmly meeting my gaze, I decided to keep silent.
“Alright, I’ll work hard and take responsibility for supporting us...”
Thinking I should ask Kyle to pay me for helping him with his work, I sighed and answered, then fixed my gaze back on the photo book.
A faint breeze brushed the top of my head. He must have smiled.
Smile, you wicked extortionist.
“Yeah. I’ll work when I can to add to the household.”
“....... You just got back, don’t you think a whole month away is too long?”
He said seriously. I answered vaguely and turned a page.
Suddenly, seeing something, he reached out his hand. The touch brushed my ear and swept my hair back. I flinched and tilted my head the other way.
“Did you lie in the yard? You’ve got grass stuck on you. ...There’s grass stain on your back. You should change.”
“Oh, really? I showered at lunch and just changed clothes.”
I clicked my tongue and pulled my shirt to look at my back. Indeed, there was a bluish grass stain.
“Well, since I’m sweaty anyway, I’ll shower and change again.”
“Alright, then let’s shower together.”
Naturally following his words, I hesitated to take off my grass-stained shirt.
“....... Where?”
“The bathroom. I just woke up and was about to wash.”
“....... Wash first. No, anyway, there’s a separate bathroom in both our rooms.”
“We haven’t talked much lately because of all the work. Now that we’re free, let’s wash slowly and catch up.”
Finishing his words, he got up without waiting for my reply. Then, reaching under my armpit where I was still sitting on the floor, he lightly lifted me up.
At that moment, I—Jung Tae-ui—suddenly realized.
This dream, which reflected past memories so vividly, was about to turn into a nightmare.
Before seeing something harsh, I had to wake up quickly. At least I was aware it was a dream, so that was some comfort; otherwise, the unsettling feeling might have lingered even after waking.
I struggled to open my eyes.
This is a dream. I have to wake up. Wake up quickly. Hurry.
Shaking my sleeping self in reality anxiously and shouting like that, fortunately, I could open my eyes just as he dragged me out of the study.
“......”
Blinking, I found myself lying alone in a dark room. Above me was the ceiling dropping high.
Slowly, I relaxed my clenched fists. I sighed.
I hadn’t expected memories I was forgetting to attack me like this.
Massaging my stiff neck, I got up. In the dark, I reached for the water kettle on the bedside table. The ice had melted but the water was still cool as it went down my throat, and only then did I feel fully awake from the dream.
Yeah, I remember now.
Illye, who refused the job saying a month away was too long, after staying home for a few months, finally went out for about a week. Even then, he had probably said not to go outside the neighbourhood.
—If you leave, you’ll die.
Suddenly, Kyle’s message from Illye came back to mind.
Sighing painfully, I put the kettle and glass back on the bedside table.
“Who told you to be gone for two months anyway......”
Lightly shifting the blame, I lay back down to try to sleep again. Then I banged my forehead on the corner of the headboard, groaning as my body trembled.