HPK 3

The first thing that caught his eye was the identification photo. The one he had applied glue stick all over the back of and then carefully pressed down with a ruler, just in case it might fall off.

Despite his efforts at the time, the corners of the photo were slightly lifted. It showed the passage of time during which the resume had been stored.

Wooseung fidgeted with his fingers and gazed blankly at the identification photo. His bangs were short, leaving his eyebrows clearly visible, and his expressionless face looked sullen. He had only gone to places where a haircut cost no more than ten thousand won. Because of that, his hair was always in that state. With his bangs cut straight across above his eyebrows, his face, which already did not look his age, appeared even more naive.

‘They say you can get something called a signing bonus, get a cash advance first and pay it back later. I just heard about it, so I don’t know the details. If you’re curious, I can ask for you.’

It was when he was working at the tuna processing plant. He did not know anyone, but after a year, he naturally made some friends. The person he became closest to was Youngchan hyung, who lived on the same floor in the dormitory. His job was different from Wooseung’s, which was packaging, but when the day’s work was done, they would take turns gathering in each other’s rooms to drink.

‘Why are you suffering here when you could be selling that face of yours?’

The hyung’s hands, which were responsible for butchering the frozen tuna that was moved to the workbench, were always chapped. No matter how much hand cream he applied or how he soaked them in warm water, they rarely got better. Thinking back on the still-rough hand that had grabbed his and pressed fifty thousand won into it before he left the factory, it was likely not much different even now.

On weekends, he would always go to entertainment establishments with the other hyungs, who were all ten years older than him. He said messing around filthily with the girls there completely relieved the week’s fatigue. And he would often share the stories he overheard with Wooseung. One of them was about ‘hosts’.

‘How could I do something like that.’

‘Why can’t you? You’re tall enough, and most importantly, your face is fucking good.’

‘…….’

‘When the hyungs bragged that we had a handsome guy at our factory, the girls got super interested. That’s how good you are, you punk.’

It was a story that did not make him happy at all to hear. He had thought that the people who worked in such places were a predetermined type. But he could not deny that he had been intrigued by the signing bonus.

“Alcohol tolerance, three shots of soju.”

“……”

“And does not smoke.”

The man slowly read the paper on the back of the resume. The way he read it, one character at a time, sounded like he wanted Wooseung to hear.

It was a paper the madam had handed him on the day of the interview, telling him not to feel burdened and to just write down his alcohol tolerance, desired workdays and times, and other things for reference.

Whether it was in Gangnam, no matter how dazzling the building was, or what its scale was, it was just an entertainment establishment. He had not even thought they would bother with resumes. But at the very first interview, the madam had told Wooseung to bring a resume. After that, she had even meticulously checked his resident registration card.

He had thought it was strange, but he did not pay it much mind. He had been too desperate for money at the time, and he figured a resume was just a single sheet of paper. For someone who thought that, he had filled out his education and work experience sections with excessive detail, but……. Anyway, that was how desperate he had felt back then.

But looking at it now, what was in the man’s hand was not just a single sheet of paper. There were several more sheets behind it.

Wooseung shifted in his seat without realizing it. No matter how he looked at it, the image printed on the back page looked like a screenshot from a CCTV camera. If he got kicked out of the annex too……. then…….

“Finished drinking?”

The man, who had been looking at the papers with his legs crossed, asked nonchalantly.

“Yes. I. I drank it all.”

Wooseung hurriedly nodded his head. The man glanced at the empty glass in Wooseung’s hand and then spoke.

“Hoonyeong-ah. Bring more of that.”

Hoonyeong, who had been sitting at the end of the sofa looking at a tablet, immediately turned and left the room. When he returned a short while later, he was holding a cardboard box. Without the man having to tell him, he opened the box on his own and even pushed it in front of Wooseung. Inside the cardboard box were thirty cans of Sky Barley Tea.

Wooseung gripped the glass tighter without realizing it. Screech, the smooth glass slid, making an unpleasant sound.

“Want me to open it for you?”

The man asked kindly.

“……No. I’ll do it.”

Wooseung raised a trembling hand and took one can. Total content 250ml. He had drunk two cans so far, so it was the same as drinking one 500ml bottle of water.

Wooseung took a mouthful of the barley tea he poured into the glass and barely managed to swallow. It had definitely tasted nutty at first, but now it was a bit nauseating. If any more went down, then…….

“Your name……. what is it?”

He put down the drink, which was now about a third gone, and spoke to the man. His words were faster than usual, as if his sense of urgency had leaked out without him knowing. He had boasted, in his own way, that he could be fun without drinking, so he had to do something.

“Eom Taejung.”

“Your age……. Ah……. is it okay to ask?”

“How old do I look?”

Although the man did not take his eyes off the paper, he did not ignore Wooseung’s question. Wooseung racked his brain before answering cautiously.

“Twenty……. nine?”

In truth, judging by his aura alone, there was an aspect to him that made it difficult to call him someone in his twenties, but the man’s unlined face bothered him. So Wooseung stated a younger age than he had thought.

“Am I right?”

“No.”

The man replied indifferently.

“Then…….”

He did not seem particularly displeased, so he gathered his courage to ask again. But the other’s answer was faster.

“Same age as you.”

The man said this as he held up the resume and placed it side by side next to Wooseung’s face. He looked back and forth between the identification photo and Wooseung.

“You look fucking young. Did you lie about your age by any chance?”

Wooseung was about to shake his head but quickly opened his mouth. He had a feeling the man would not like it if he answered with a nod.

“I didn’t lie. I just tend to look, look young.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

The paper was placed on the table with a thwack. As if he had been waiting, Hoonyeong gathered and put away the papers. Then he checked the watch on his wrist and signaled something to the man with his eyes.

“What are you doing? Not drinking.”

Wooseung quickly took a sip of barley tea and opened his mouth again. The thought that he had to continue the conversation gripped him like an obsession. It was because the liquid that had risen to his throat felt like it would spill out at any moment.

“Do you come to the establishment often?”

“No.”

“Shall I sing you a song?”

“No.”

With every question he asked, he had to empty the glass. If Wooseung did not drink, the man’s gaze would just alternate between the glass and Wooseung’s eyes. It was clear coercion. It was only then that he had a small premonition.

His sole purpose was to watch Wooseung suffer as he forced himself to drink water.

No matter what question he asked, the man’s answer would be the same. He should not have ignored the chilly sensation that brushed against the nape of his neck. Wooseung, unable to do anything about his numb fingertips, could only clutch the glass. The glass resting on his lap shook, and the liquid inside sloshed.

“Wooseung-ah. Are you scared of me?”

There was a faint trace of laughter in the man’s voice.

Should I say I’m not?

Then will the man relax and tell me to stop drinking?

Wooseung could not dare to predict the man. It was extremely difficult to tell if he was in a good mood or a bad one. So Wooseung decided to trust the hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“Yes. I’m scared.”

At the same time, he created an escape route.

“……But just a little, I’m only a little scared.”

The man’s eyebrows drew a sharp peak.

“Why are you only a little scared?”

He turned his body completely toward Wooseung. He rested his arm on the back of the sofa and casually put his right foot on his left thigh. The man’s chest was wide open toward Wooseung.

Wooseung thought anew that the man was truly, very big. Not just his broad shoulders and wide chest, but even the playfully tapping hand was very large. So large that he thought his entire face might fit inside if it were spread open.

“I asked why you’re only a little scared.”

A long finger tapped Wooseung’s cheek. Thump. It was clearly a playful tap, but the force in the finger was not light. His defenseless face was whipped to the side.

“The lighter……”

“Lighter? Uh huh, speak while you drink.”

He urged him to drink more by gently bobbing his chin as if soothing a baby. Gulp, gulp. The man’s gaze fell to the Adam’s apple that protruded on the slender neck.

“I was scared because you threw the lighter. But……. you didn’t throw it hard, so that’s why I said I was only a little scared.”

Wooseung barely finished his sentence and hurriedly covered his mouth with his palm. It felt like the water filling his stomach was sloshing with every small movement. He was even filled with the fear that if he swallowed his saliva the wrong way, he might throw up right then and there.

“Feel like you’re going to puke?”

Wooseung desperately shook his head.

“Really? Then want to drink more?”

The corners of his eyes grew hot. Was it from holding back the vomit? Goosebumps began to spread all over his body, starting from the nape of his neck.

He did not even have the mental capacity to calculate how many cans he had drunk. He had lost count after opening the sixth can.

“You said you were fun even without drinking.”

The man checked the watch on his wrist.

“You’re not very fun.”

Then, toward Hoonyeong who was standing in front of the karaoke machine, he said, “Let’s go, Hoonyeong-ah.” The man stood up and cracked his neck from side to side. Crack, a gruesome sound like bones grinding together was heard.

Wooseung was barely holding on, his hand clamped over his mouth. His stomach churned violently, roil roil, as if his body were being tossed by rough waves. His palm was already damp with the bile he had failed to swallow.

“If you puke, clean it up before you go.”

Wooseung blinked his eyes rapidly. The eyes he met were a startling color, like melted caramel.

“You’re good at cleaning, after all.”

Before leaving, the man grabbed the can of Coca-Cola that Wooseung had opened. His long legs strode across the room. The moment the man exited through the door Hoonyeong opened and the door closed again, Wooseung shot up and ran.