I want to go back in time and stop myself — the me who was scrawling over Han Jaeheon’s assignments and reports with a red marker pen. I want to get down on my knees and beg him not to. I should have just thought, so he’s a guy who doesn’t study, let it go with composure, and given him a C. Why was I so damn diligent?
On the way home, Eunseo stopped by the convenience store in front of his house and bought alcohol. He’d only tasted alcohol a couple of times back as a freshman, so he first picked up a low-alcohol one covered in fruit illustrations — then put it right back and grabbed three of the most basic green bottles instead.
The moment he got home, he pulled the half-eaten pizza off the table, box and all, and stuffed it straight into a trash bag, popped open a green bottle, and poured it down his throat. Bitter, bitter — and the finish was a mess. Even it tasted like Han Jaeheon, and Eunseo clutched at his hair. Han Jaeheon kept popping out of everything.
The last shred of the cliff edge he’d been clinging to crumbled, and the wall he’d been building came crashing down completely. Caught in a storm of emotion he couldn’t handle, Eunseo was about to sink into it alone — when his phone started buzzing again and again, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hauling him back up.
Han Jaeheon, Han Jaeheon, Han Jaeheon. The name flashed three times and vanished, and only after burning another thirty-odd minutes could Eunseo pick up the phone.
“Did you get home safe, TA?”
Eunseo looked around. Han Jaeheon had gone inside around seven in the evening, and Eunseo himself hadn’t left the school until past midnight. So why was he sending a message like this now? Was he watching from somewhere, waiting until Eunseo got home?
“I never got to thank you properly.”
“Thanks for putting up with my unreasonable request. I’ll definitely make it up to you ^^”
Make it up to him…? The best Han Jaeheon could do was graduate quickly and disappear from his sight. Once they left this school, they’d never meet again — not even by chance.
Completely drunk, Eunseo flipped his phone over, shoved it far away, and picked up the bottle again. He filled his empty stomach again and again with the clear, sweet, bitter liquid, but strangely his mind stayed perfectly clear. And that night, Eunseo learned something: he could hold his liquor frighteningly well — three bottles of soju couldn’t even give him a proper buzz. He despaired at the fact that not even alcohol could act as an eraser for him.
***
Pressing his fingertips lightly beneath his swollen eyes, Eunseo let out a quiet sigh. The soju he’d poured down his throat last night hadn’t touched his mind one bit, but physically it had left a huge
wreck behind. All the soju sloshing around in his empty stomach had come back up from the gastritis pain — it wasn’t that he was drunk, his stomach just hurt from the gastritis — which was probably why his face looked so awful. But he hadn’t looked much different yesterday either, so going in for a confession looking like that had taken real nerve.
After washing his face once and shaking the water off his hands, Eunseo stepped out of the bathroom to find Jin Seunghu calling to him from the end of the hallway.
“Eunseo.”
“Yes?”
“There’s a dinner tonight.”
Seunghu walked straight up to him and stroked Eunseo’s bangs — which covered his eyebrows completely — smooth. Eunseo, his eyes being stabbed by the flattened hair, pushed the hand away, but Seunghu was stubborn about it, and giving up fell to Eunseo.
“…It’s Thursday, though?”
“I know, right? You don’t have anything else going on?”
“No, nothing, but…”
“Just show your face for a bit, then slip out. Looking at your face, I don’t even want to invite you, but our professor really values attendance.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Cute, though. Your hair’s like a puppy’s.”
At the word “puppy,” Eunseo went rigid and pulled his head out of Seunghu’s grip.
It was because he’d been reminded of Han Jaeheon going on about “puppies.” He’d barely managed not to think about it for a few minutes.
“What’s wrong?”
“My hair… please stop touching it.”
“You complain even when someone’s doting on you.”
He’d snapped it out, but Seunghu was someone who knew when to stop. He wasn’t the kind of person who bulldozed ahead doing whatever he pleased without giving an inch.
“Where are we going?”
“Chicken.”
“…Our lab must really be broke.”
“They’ll buy us beef at year-end. Is your gastritis okay?”
“I’m fine, I took medicine.”
Last night I poured soju down my throat until my stomach felt like it was being wrung out — better keep that secret. Seunghu had a tendency to fuss over him a little too much sometimes.
“Anyway, wrap up your experiments fast today. We’re leaving at five.”
“Yes.”
Handing him a deadline with only three hours left, Seunghu went into the lab first. Eunseo stood there a moment, then pulled out the phone buzzing inside his lab coat.
Han Jaeheon
It was a message from Han Jaeheon, whom he’d been ignoring since yesterday. Why on earth was he like this? Eunseo couldn’t understand Han Jaeheon at all. He’d half given up on even having the energy to try, but he couldn’t stop the question marks multiplying in his head.
“TA, want to grab dinner tonight?”
Has he lost his mind, really? Had Han Jaeheon truly erased everything that happened yesterday? Eunseo’s mouth fell open in disbelief, and he typed out a reply just like that.
“No.”
“Why? Are you busy? Want me to help? I’m good at experiments.”
“No.”
“You still have to eat dinner even if you’re busy.”
Time to ignore him. Two “no”s were answer enough, Eunseo decided, shoving the phone back into his lab-coat pocket. But before he’d taken three steps, he had to pull it out again. Messages were flooding in as if a call were coming through.
“Then should I come stand next to you for a bit?”
“How late will you be there? You’ll be there at five, right?”
“You looked pale yesterday too. Want me to go buy you some medicine?”
Han Jaeheon clearly wanted to torment him. Eunseo gritted his teeth hard as the answer he’d had from the very start — the answer he’d tried so hard to look away from — surfaced again. Then he switched his phone to silent and went into the lab to sit at his desk.
While working, his eyes drifted now and then to the flipped-over phone, but Eunseo stoically held back the urge. Getting dragged along by feelings for a hopeless man like Han Jaeheon — challenging that and winning was only a story for when there was at least a sliver of possibility. Embarrassing as it was, right before his confession Eunseo had held the tiniest hope — a truly thread-thin expectation — because he’d thought Han Jaeheon felt at least some positive emotion toward him.
Eunseo had never once built a proper romantic relationship with anyone, and naturally he’d never had any sexual experience. That was why his own feelings carried no sexual meaning for him. But Han Jaeheon had gone straight from “I like you” to imagining a sexual relationship — which, seen a certain way, was only natural — and built a wall Eunseo could never cross, thick and solid. If the other party wasn’t an omega, Han Jaeheon wouldn’t even treat them as a dating prospect. That conclusion stripped Eunseo of the last scrap of room to try anything again.
Eunseo bit the inside of his cheek and hung his head low. A future with no hope whatsoever, a swamp he couldn’t escape — there was nothing to embrace but despair. So Eunseo decided to at least avoid Han Jaeheon physically. And if they ever met again, he resolved to give him one good poke — then beg him to please leave him alone.
***
A little before five, everyone in Eunseo’s lab tidied their desks and headed out. It was the first group dinner since the second semester began, so everyone was excited. Most people loved free food, so they were all for the dinner.
Eunseo stuck close to Jin Seunghu — the tallest and biggest of the group — glancing around as he walked, and when he spotted Han Jaeheon coming in through the far entrance, he quickened his steps and slipped out of the building.
“What’s wrong?”
“…It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass.”
Seunghu roughly ruffled his hair, but Eunseo couldn’t make a sound of protest. After all, he was the benefactor who’d hidden him from Han Jaeheon.
Eunseo squeezed the phone in his pocket once, then let go, and got into Seunghu’s car headed for the dinner venue. Even packed tight with five people, the expensive foreign car rode smoothly, and near the sub-
way station, they arrived at a chicken place in no time.
A slightly greasy, stale smell hit his nose, and he heard his shoe soles peeling off the slightly sticky floor. No sooner had they sat down in the worn chairs with the faux leather starting to peel than the pre-ordered chicken and drinks started coming out. And Eunseo, sitting on the outermost seat, was doing odd jobs as usual when Seunghu grabbed him and sat him down.
“Hey, just sit.”
“Ah, but there aren’t even forks here, so…”
“Just ask the staff — why are you running around?”
“Well…”
The other PhD students sitting next to Seunghu chimed in.
“Yeah, Eunseo. Every time you come to a dinner you act like you work at the restaurant.”
“Right. At the first dinner this year, the master’s students who’d come from other schools thought you were staff and bossed you around.”
“But he didn’t say a word — his face bright red — and grilled all the meat, brought the soju, even took orders for soybean-paste stew and cold noodles and sent them to the kitchen!”
“He put every dead-drunk kid in a taxi and sent them home, and personally walked home the seniors who live in this neighborhood.”
“How do you survive being that nice?”
At the flood of words, Eunseo’s face burned bright red, just like that day he’d grilled meat all evening. Rather than sitting there awkwardly without even drinking, he’d rather do the odd jobs —
that was why he’d done it, but he hadn’t expected them to remember it in such detail.
“Why does our Eunseo look like that — are you having a rough time?”
“…No.”
“He’s dragging around with gastritis.”
“Senior.”
“Gastritis? Then can you even eat chicken?”
“I’m fine if I take my medicine.”
Most of the lab had watched Eunseo since his freshman days, so they all doted on him. He still looked young, had no sharp edges, and was guilelessly gentle and kind — they couldn’t help it.
“Eunseo, you stick right next to Jin Seunghu today. His personality may be garbage, but he makes a decent wall to lean on, right?”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Of course. A total compliment. Too generous, really.”
They hadn’t even started drinking, but the mood was already like a full-on bender. Seeing the server approach with a tray loaded with bottles, Eunseo started to stand without thinking — and had to sit back down under the arm Seunghu dropped on his shoulder.
“Sit.”
“…Yes.”
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