Episode 2
The colored papers, cut into the shape of footprints and stuck to the asphalt, were now haphazardly trampled and scattered. Most were either half-torn or completely missing.
As I stared at one with faint, smudged letters left after countless footsteps had stamped on it, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. What was so great about this school that they even bothered with something like this? Cleaning up wasn’t their job anyway.
In the distance, I could see the campus. Even though it was a university in Seoul, there was a clear hierarchy among schools. Some universities inspired envy and admiration at the mere mention of their names. Others were considered decent—acceptable. Then there were those you’d never even heard of, even within Seoul’s city limits. Unfortunately, I belonged to the last category—a student of a school that inspired neither recognition nor envy.
I wasn’t any different from the other students here. Most of us weren’t passionate about studying. We simply ended up at this school because it matched our scores. During lectures, more people studied for their TOEIC exams than paid attention to class, and professors couldn’t care less if students even showed up. It was no wonder that everyone’s attitude eventually turned sour in an environment like this.
I often justified my indifference, blaming everything from the excessive workload to the bland food. But in truth, my disinterest was a whim—I just didn’t want to be entangled in the life of a student. Grumbling to myself, I wondered if coming here had been a mistake.
As I walked through the narrow alley lined with bars and barbecue joints, I absentmindedly pulled out a cigarette. I hesitated momentarily, glancing at the signboard ahead, wondering if I should light it here.
“Excuse me… just a moment.”
“… …”
“Excuse me….”
The low, bass-like voice broke through my thoughts, resonating deeply. I turned my head to find its source.
“Were you talking to me?”
A young man with short hair, who looked like he’d just been discharged from the military, stood there. Out of habit, I scanned his appearance. He wore a clean blazer despite the chilly weather and had a well-built physique.
“Oh, yes. I was wondering if you were one of the people heading to the freshman welcome party.”
“That’s right. What year are you?”
At my question, the man immediately straightened up, almost as if at attention.
“I’m a first-year student.”
Something about his response felt a little too formal, but he didn’t seem like a recruiter or some sort of zealot. I nodded, lit my cigarette, and exhaled the acrid smoke into the crisp air.
“Yes, junior. What do you need?”
The man hesitated, shifting his weight nervously. His face flushed, either from the cold or embarrassment, as he struggled to find the right words.
“If you’re going to call someone, you should at least say something. What is it?”
After another awkward pause, he finally blurted out, “Could you lend me your lighter?”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of borrowing this? Here.”
I pulled a disposable lighter from my pocket and handed it to him. The man accepted it with both hands, nodding politely.
“Oh, I left my wallet at home, so I didn’t have any change to buy one myself.”
“So, if you had change, you’d have bought one?”
“Well, I didn’t want to smoke in front of a senior without asking first….”
“You’re a first-year student, and already you’re full of excuses.”
The man lit his cigarette, then returned the lighter to me with an almost ceremonial level of politeness, like a new recruit dealing with a senior officer.
“Thank you.”
He started to walk away, cigarette in hand, but the cold wind blew through the narrow alley, chilling me to the bone. I called out to him.
“Hey, come here for a second.”
“Yes?”
“Just stand here for a moment.”
“Oh, alright.”
“Why are you so hesitant? No one’s going to bite you for smoking here.”
“It’s not that… it’s just, um, thank you.”
The man nodded nervously, holding his cigarette like it was a delicate artifact. I watched him, amused by his overly cautious behavior.
In truth, I had no particular reason for keeping him around. It was just that his large frame served as an excellent windbreak, and honestly, he wasn’t bad to look at. The white ash of his cigarette crumbled and scattered in the breeze as I studied him.
“No matter how I look at you, you don’t seem to be from our department. What’s your major?”
“Oh, I’m Baek Seung-min, a freshman in the Department of Physical Education.”
“Ah.”
“Senior, is that right?”
“That’s right. But I’m not in your department, so you can skip the formalities. No need to be so stiff.”
“Oh, I knew you weren’t in my department. I’ve already met all the other seniors.”
“Really? Then why are you acting like this?”
“Well, since you’re older, I thought it’d be rude not to…”
“Fine, whatever. Suit yourself.”
The PE department at our school was famous for its judo and baseball programs. Judging by the size of his shoulders, he was either a pitcher or a judo athlete. I guessed the latter. Crushing my cigarette under my sneaker, I muttered, “Physical education and military discipline—what a mix.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not a compliment, so don’t take it as one. Anyway, I’m cold. Go on ahead.”
“Please go in first, senior.”
I clicked my tongue, watching him bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle. I’d been debating whether to turn back home while I was smoking, but the man’s strange sincerity seemed to push me forward. It felt like going back wasn’t an option anymore.
“Hey, senior!”
I was halfway up the stairs when his voice rang out again.
“What now?”
“Excuse me, senior, may I ask your name?”
I snorted at the sight of this grown man awkwardly asking for my name, his lips quivering as he spoke.
“Cha Woo-kyung.”
“Cha Woo-kyung, Senior Cha Woo-kyung,” he repeated, as if savoring the syllables. Then, bowing deeply again, he added, “Please go in, Senior Cha Woo-kyung.”
As I climbed the stairs to the bar, the cacophony of noise from the alley faded into the background. I stared at the steps ahead, unsure if I’d be able to step back out once I went inside.
“That’s why I’m telling you, when Cha Woo-kyung takes off his glasses, he’s ridiculously pretty. Hey, Woo-kyung, take off your glasses for a second.”
“Oh, really?”
Low, curiosity-filled gazes turned towards me, scanning me with earnest intent.
“No wonder one of my seniors back then said, ‘Are you a fucking sissy?’ and tried to take off my clothes. You were a goddamn legend during OT.”
“Oh, I still remember that. What’s that senior up to these days?”
“Well, since he doesn’t show up at school, he’s probably busy trying to get a job.”
“Hey, but we’re still privileged. What’s with the whole ‘senior’ thing? You always bring the freshmen here, make them sit down, and pour drinks for you. Man, it’s so messed up.”
“Honestly, I’ll admit it now: I purposely brought Cha Woo-kyung out whenever that senior was around. No way I’d try hitting on other girls with Woo-kyung nearby.”
Exaggerated stories about other people’s lives are nothing more than shallow gossip.
“Hey, stop spouting nonsense in front of others. Woo-kyung, are you okay?”
When faced with mechanical neutrality that effortlessly churned out falsehoods, I simply smiled in response.
“Oh, what’s there to be upset about? It’s all just a joke.”
Still, an inexplicable thirst welled up inside me. I downed the glass in front of me in one go. People say that if you endure something three times, you can avoid murder. By that measure, I deserve sainthood.
“Anyway, Cha Woo-kyung might seem tough, but he’s got a great personality.”
“Hey, is that why that senior is looking for Cha Woo-kyung these days too?”
“Ugh, this is so noisy… Is Woo-kyung some kind of neighborhood superstar?”
It’s fine when they’re talking about someone else. But when it’s about me? No, you fucking bastards.
“I need a smoke.”
As I stood up, my classmates quickly made way. “Oppa, before you leave, just take a look at your glasses…” one of the juniors called out from across the room, but I ignored it. Their stares burned into the back of my head. Stop staring, you fucking bastards.
I don’t know how people tolerate this kind of thing. Just sitting there made me feel sick. I hadn’t even drunk much—mostly pale soju with just a splash of beer—yet my head felt heavy, and my stomach burned. I wasn’t a lightweight, but shitty drinking parties like this were the quickest way to ruin anyone’s mood.
I stepped outside, cigarette in hand, and opened the glass door. The sharp smell of grilled tripe mixed with the cold night air made my stomach churn. Everything smelled disgusting. I took off my glasses, holding them in my hand, and crouched down. The silver grid of the sewer beneath me seemed to wobble and sway.
The alcohol churned in my empty stomach, threatening to come back up. I tossed the unlit cigarette onto the ground—it made me nauseous just holding it. Clutching my pounding head and aching stomach, I crouched lower. Suddenly, a hand patted my back.
“Please vomit it all out.”
The voice was low, vaguely familiar. My dazed mind registered it might be my junior.
“No, it’s not that bad…”
“Do you want some water, then?”
Without waiting for an answer, he placed a small water bottle in my hand. It was brand new, the seal still intact. I fumbled to open it, drinking the cool water in small sips. Gradually, my stomach settled.
“Here, wipe your face with this, senior.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. Really.”
“If it bothers you, just throw it away later, senior.”
The warmth in his tone cut through the cold air, reaching me like a gentle hand. He probably thought I’d vomited. Unable to refuse, I took the handkerchief he offered and wiped my mouth. Then, I stood up, slightly steadier now.
Under the neon lights of a nearby sign, I could make out his silhouette. Squinting, I wrinkled my face in frustration.
“Who are you, and why are you here?”
“Think of it as repayment for the lighter earlier.”
“Lighter?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Uh….”
The man’s face slowly came into focus—it was my junior from the physical education department. What was his name again? I’d heard it earlier, but my hazy memory struggled to recall.
As I blinked and stumbled, my vision distorted by my damned astigmatism, he reached out to steady me.
“Careful, senior.”
“Sorry, I can’t see well… You’re the guy from earlier, when I was smoking, right?”
“Yes, senior. I’m Baek Seung-min.”
“Ah, Baek Seung-min. You…”
I stared at him, confused. His expression was unreadable in the dim light. Fumbling with my glasses, I finally managed to put them on. Now I could see him clearly—he stood there, smiling faintly, waiting for me to speak.
“Sorry, my eyesight’s bad. But you, why are you here?”
“Yes, go ahead, senior.”
Something about his polite demeanor and curiosity unsettled me. Why was he helping me? We weren’t even in the same department. Was there another reason? Or was I overthinking because of the alcohol?
I glanced down at the handkerchief in my hand, hesitating. Before I could decide what to do with it, Baek Seung-min plucked it from my fingers and threw it into the trash can without hesitation.
“Hey, wait! Why’d you do that?”
“Why not? It’s better to throw it away than to fret over it, senior.”
“Well… if you say so.”
“You can relax now, senior. Speak comfortably.”
“Why should I? You’re not even in my department.”
“Just because I’m not doesn’t mean I’m older than you, senior.”
It was a fair point, but it didn’t explain his kindness.
“Okay, thanks for helping me. I’ll head back in now—it’s cold.”
I turned toward the glass door. My head felt clearer, but my throat was dry. As I pushed the door open, I nearly bumped into it, fumbling for the handle. At the same moment, Baek Seung-min grabbed my wrist.
“Aren’t you going home?”
His grip tightened slightly, as though trying to steady me.
“I was planning to. Why?”
“If you eat any more, will you be able to make it home? I think you’ve had enough.”
His words sounded tempting. A small voice in my mind whispered, “Maybe you should rest for a while—clear your head.”
But I shook my head. No, I couldn’t indulge in that weakness.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I said, brushing off his concern.
—
