2. Time for Patience (Part 1)
The first time I suspected that Chae Soo was gay was about a year after I had met him. That is, when I was in the third grade and Chae Soo was in the fourth grade, and we were maintaining a moderate level of friendship.
We sometimes studied together in the library, shared homework, and ate together in the cafeteria. Sometimes we even drank together in front of the school. The time we spent together gradually increased, but it was only a friendship between a senior and a junior, and the topics of our conversations, which sometimes diverged, would inevitably return to class talk.
If you ask me whether I had any romantic interest in Chae Soo at that time, I can confidently say no. That was because I had a boyfriend of the same age then. Although that ungrateful guy put his combat boots on backward, the letters I wrote myself were worth a lot. Of course, honestly, they weren’t much.
Anyway, my boyfriend at that time, whose face I can barely remember now, was unfortunately a classmate of mine in the physics department. Under the name of the department CC, every aspect of my relationship was relayed to people in the department.
The six-month relationship ended a week before the start of my third year. It was the end of a boring relationship where we spent more time apart than together, and where we could only go on dates like we were on military leave.
After news of our breakup became public, the attention of the physics department naturally turned to me and Chae Soo. Ironically, it was from that point that my relationship with Chae Soo became more comfortable.
I think I’ve heard the question of whether the two of us were dating countless times. Every time, Chae Soo would just laugh awkwardly as if it wasn’t worth responding to, and I, too, found it annoying, so I’d say that I’d rather have a fresh younger man than an old fart like Chae Soo.
Of course, the rumor that I liked younger men was a lie. I have a younger brother who will never be able to learn anything, so I still hate men younger than me. I hate it even more when younger people call me “noona” and then try to switch to “Yeondu” in a sneaky way. I also hate when my boyfriend calls me “noona,” so to me, dating a younger man was as ridiculous as the flat Earth theory.
So, the claim that I liked younger men was just a way to silence those who tried to link me with Chae Soo. It was like a smokescreen. I didn’t even know who was setting up the smokescreen.
Whenever I would declare my preference for younger men with such a false heart, Chae Soo would add something, saying that if I were going to date, I should date a younger man who earns a lot of money when I’m a few years older. What should I say about that look in his eyes, which was as serious as an eighty-year-old man’s compared to his playful tone? The word strange doesn’t do it justice.
Oh, now that I think about it, maybe Chae Soo liked younger men?
Breaking up with my military boyfriend was a blessing for me. I was happy about the freedom my worldly body had found, and I didn’t really suffer from any aftereffects of the breakup. I enjoyed the attention I received at the time. Strictly speaking, it was the attention I received by Chae Soo’s side.
Like the saying that even a whale can dance when praised, that jealous attention occasionally gave me a fleeting thrill. I was just excited by the attention that reached me. Chae Soo’s appearance was not my ideal type, but he was good-looking enough to take around, and my modest appearance could be packaged as innocent next to him, so it wasn’t a losing deal for me.
Even so, I—though no one would believe it—had never thought of Chae Soo as a potential love interest. Maybe I had already decided that he was not my partner. Was it intuition? The probability that Chae Soo would like me seemed lower than the probability that I would like him. This was certainly the case even if Chae Soo was not gay. We were, as they say, playing different games.
About halfway through the first semester, the interest of those who had been trying to tie me and Chae Soo together like a skewer began to wane. This was partly thanks to the mathematical physics professor who insisted on giving us three tests and partly thanks to the quantum mechanics professor who gave us a quiz before every class.
For us, who were dying every day under the weight of academics, the issue of love was like Schrödinger’s cat. Of course, Chae Soo seemed to have no interest in my love life for a slightly different reason.
Honestly, it’s too boring and annoying to talk about it again, but Chae Soo was so attractive that he deserved to be popular, regardless of my indifference to dating.
The world back then, which was less tech-savvy than it is now, was a time when analog confessions were still common. Whenever he left the library desk where he sat, a drink with a note attached would be placed there, and like a sentinel with a sense of duty, I would watch over the drinks to make sure they were returned to their owners.
Chae Soo, upon returning to the reading room, would just sweep up the things on my desk like he was harvesting crops and put them in his bag, without showing any sign of being overly happy or particularly displeased. He just acted as if it was something he was used to, something he had to do. Even through my lukewarm eyes at the time, it didn’t seem particularly lucky.
He would share the canned drinks he received with me as if he was doing me a favor. It was like passing off leftovers, but I had no reason to refuse. At the time, I lived under the misconception that Chae Soo was a good person.
Because a person who shared food was a good person.
“That, the note.”
One time, while I was drinking with him on a bench near the library, a question suddenly occurred to me.
“What note?”
“You know, when you receive a drink with a note attached. They write down their phone number and give it to you, asking you to contact them.”
“Ah.” Chae Soo nodded as if to say, Oh, I see, that happens sometimes, then raised his eyebrows as if to ask why I was bringing it up now.
“I was wondering if you ever read them.”
“Read them? Me?”
“Why don’t you? They’re giving you a drink so they might think that you’ll understand them.”
“Who said I had to understand them just because they gave me a drink?”
It wasn’t anything special, but it was still annoying to have to answer who that who was. I was struggling with my philosophy report for a liberal arts class, and I was about to say something ridiculous like, Nietzsche said that, why!—but instead, I just poured my drink into my mouth. The grape-flavored soda rippled and tickled my throat.
“Nothing, you’ve got a bad temper…”
“So?”
“It’s really pitiful.”
“Me?”
“No, the women who like you.”
What kind of expression did Chae Soo make when he heard those words, which were truly sincere? It was like he had accidentally turned on the wrong faucet and gotten splashed with sunflower shower water while still in his clothes.
He crumpled his pretty face into something unpleasant—no, rather, into something even more unpleasant—and let out a deep sigh. The scent of lilac tickled my nose from somewhere.
At that moment, I stared blankly at him, thinking, Is that scent coming from Chae Soo? Then I sneezed repeatedly and poured out my absurd emotions.
“What are you two doing again?”
At that moment, Ryu Ji-hwan approached, filling the gap between me and Chae Soo. It was perfect timing. Even though I hadn’t done anything with Chae Soo, I shook my drink at Ryu Ji-hwan like a thief caught in the act.
Compared to the students struggling with various assignments, tests, and reports, our department members spent most of their time outside the reading room. That was because we simply couldn’t keep up with the assignments given by the professors.
On the other hand, there was also a sense of trust. Just like how a mother nags that there are people who make a mess and people who clean it up, in our department, there were those who did homework and those who copied it. The former was usually Chae Soo, and the latter was the rest of us, so people always flocked to Chae Soo like flies.
“Chae Soo, have you finished your solid-state physics assignment?”
Among them, Ryu Ji-hwan was the ringleader of the freeloaders.
“I’m not handing it over, you idiot. Do your own work for once.”
“Hey, we have to help each other out. I need to graduate too.”
“You only look for friends when it’s convenient for you, Ryu Ji-hwan.”
Even though Chae Soo said that, I knew he had already prepared a separate version of the assignment to hand out to his classmates—a slightly different version from the one he would submit himself. Since I was his lab partner, I tended to receive the copy that was most similar to his.
“Oh, by the way, Chae Soo, do you want to go on a blind date?”
Ryu Ji-hwan’s gaze alternated between me and Chae Soo, who were sitting next to each other on the bench. The question was directed at Chae Soo, but why was he looking at me? It seemed like he still had expectations about the two of us, so I shifted slightly away from Chae Soo.
“Stop wasting time and study so you can graduate, Ji-hwan.”
“Come on, just meet her once. She’s got a great body, seriously. Huh? Huh?”
Ryu Ji-hwan’s hand fluttered in the air. Chae Soo, who had turned his head away as if he didn’t even want to hear it, narrowed his eyes even more when our gazes met. What the heck? Why was he taking his annoyance out on me? I threw my empty soda can into the trash, but my luck wasn’t on my side today—it bounced off instead.
“Hey, she’s stunning in real life. Let me have a look too. Let me taste a bit of your good fortune.”
“You dirty bastard. That’s exactly why you get cursed out all the time.”
“You’re just so damn lucky, Chae Soo.”
“And you’re using my name to get by.”
What an unlucky guy. Ryu Ji-hwan slid into my spot on the bench as I walked over to pick up my failed trash attempt.
“Why does our brilliant Chae Soo reject all the women who throw themselves at him? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m not interested in women.”
“Bullshit. The guys who say that are always the ones secretly obsessed with it. Hey, Yeon-doo, you need to be extra careful around this type.”
Since it was reasonable advice, I nodded, but Chae Soo just looked at me like I had lost my mind. Just like the people who claim they don’t care about money are often the ones obsessed with it, I figured it was worth keeping Ji-hwan’s words in mind.
I ignored their useless chatter and told them I was heading inside first to work on my liberal arts assignment. As I walked off, I could hear Ji-hwan still rambling about blind dates. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. In the year I had known Chae Soo, I had never once heard about him going on a blind date, let alone being in a relationship.
Feeling sorry for the pointless conversation, I entered the reading room, walking quietly to my seat. I glanced at Chae Soo’s desk—just as I expected, there was a note and a piece of chocolate sitting on top.
It seemed like the Dojawi and Library Autonomy Committees had been slacking off. The rule clearly stated that no food except water was allowed in the reading room. But more importantly, leaving those kinds of offerings for Chae Soo was pointless…
I sighed at the dedication of these unknown admirers and found myself replaying Chae Soo’s words from earlier. The notes that were always discarded without being read, the blind dates he refused, the way he never seemed interested in any of the women who liked him… It wasn’t just disinterest—it was a bit too indifferent. Had he gone beyond simply not being interested?
If he wasn’t into women… could he be into men?
That thought, sparked by a single word, took root and began to grow. From that day on, I couldn’t help but focus all my attention on Chae Soo.
* * *
