JKA 41

‘What the hell is this scholarship thing about?’

And the fact that it was a scholarship given only to the floors right above and below the one where he lived—this made no sense at all. To begin with, there was no way such a scholarship could even exist. So there was only one thing he could infer. The thought that had crossed his mind when he talked to Yoon Yeosa, who was both the landowner and the building owner. That had been raised as a complaint, and 1129 had resolved it. By covering the monthly rent for the specific floors in question, that is.

He never imagined he would find this kind of content while digging through the app just to check whether Hanbyeol’s words were a simple joke or not. It really felt as if someone had hit him hard on the head; he was completely dazed. Neither the voice of the professor holding the microphone and conducting the lecture nor the occasional sound from the video materials playing reached his ears properly.

The only thing that entered Jiwoon’s ears was the sound of his own heartbeat. Cold sweat trickled down his back in streams. He was dumbfounded, incredulous. It simply felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown right into the middle of the street. His vision turned hazy and everything spun dizzily.

‘Can this really be called a solution?’

He had never had any conversation with 1129 about the noise issue. If the guy had at least said something like “I handled it this way,” he wouldn’t have been this shocked. Supporting the rent only for the tenants on the 5th floor where he lived and the floors immediately above and below—it did sound, on the surface, like a pretty decent way to resolve things.

But that also meant it was only a matter of time. It wouldn’t be strange at all if even one person started going around asking every household, “What kind of scholarship is this?” or “What on earth is going on here?” Once someone began inquiring one by one like that, wouldn’t it be quick to figure out which household was the culprit?

The source of that sound was clearly himself. Until 1129 arrived, nothing like this had ever happened. There were always one or two households that partied and made noise drinking late into the night. Some ran washing machines or vacuum cleaners regardless of day or night, and there were even places where something was being pounded all day long for some unknown reason.

As was typical in one-room self-living districts, soundproofing was nowhere near the level one could expect in a regular apartment, and since many people were living alone for the first time, there were plenty who didn’t know the unspoken rules that should be followed in multi-household buildings. Jiwoon himself had been the same, so he hadn’t nitpicked every little thing. Because he himself was surely, in someone else’s eyes, a noise-maker worth killing.

But this was completely different, wasn’t it? No matter how nicely you called it a scholarship, where in the world was there a scholarship like this? The mere fact that only the tenants from the 4th to the 6th floors were suffering from insane sex noises would be a common point; from there it wouldn’t take long to figure out under what pretext the money had been given.

Of course, most people’s thoughts probably wouldn’t reach that far so easily. If someone had that much money, they would just move, right? Who in their right mind would support the rent of the floors above and below plus moving expenses just to keep staying put? But the crazy person doing exactly that was right in his own home. A lunatic angel who resolved his complaint in such an insane manner.

It went beyond being absurd—it was now reaching the point of being terrifying. What if he ended up being identified as the perpetrator of this incident? Of course, no one knew exactly where his one-room was or what the precise unit number was. He had never brought anyone there…

‘No, there is one person.’

The moment Jiwoon remembered that, his face turned deathly pale. That incident right before the end of the semester was grabbing at his ankle again. Fuck, why did I do that back then. Jiwoon turned ashen and bit his lower lip hard. Hadn’t Hanbyeol taken him all the way to the front of his one-room?

He had barely managed to pull himself together and hadn’t let him inside the house. Recalling that the place was an absolute mess had made the alcohol haze vanish for a very brief moment—thank god. But Hanbyeol would definitely remember. How could anyone forget what happened that day? The fact that his one-room was on the 5th floor of Nakwon Villa.

He really, truly did not want Hanbyeol of all people to find out that one fact, even if it killed him. No matter how many other stories they had shared, this was genuinely private among privates, wasn’t it? On top of that, he had even confessed to Hanbyeol. Whether those feelings still existed now or not wasn’t the important part.

Having said those things and yet bringing strangers home every time to have sex would be a problem, and having a fixed sex partner would also be a problem. And the fact that that fixed partner wasn’t even a lover—but the angel 1129—made it an even bigger problem. This was something that absolutely, under no circumstances, could ever be found out.

“Did he see it…?”

Jiwoon unconsciously muttered in a voice so small only he could hear it. Had Hanbyeol seen this post? On Camta, had he seen this? And so, the moment he saw the words “Nakwon Villa” and saw the floor number, did he think of me?

The somewhat positive thought circuit he had barely managed to keep running these past few days snapped in an instant. Not even the tiniest hopeful idea came to mind. He simply felt like a machine whose power supply had been completely cut off. The pent-up depression overflowed and his mood crashed straight to rock bottom. Even when 1129 had transformed into Hanbyeol’s appearance and caused that huge commotion right in front of him, his mood hadn’t fallen into this deep of an abyss.

‘Should I just die…?’

Even though nothing had actually happened yet, in Jiwoon’s head every worst-case scenario had already unfolded. At this point, he couldn’t even bring himself to think about the topic of his face that Hanbyeol had mentioned.

By the time Jiwoon, digging his own grave alone and imagining burying his head 500 meters underground to die, reached that point, the lecture ended. Since he had been late, he should have gotten up immediately, gone to the professor, and asked to be marked present despite the tardiness. But with legs whose strength had completely drained away, even standing up was difficult.

His nose stung, and a slight heat rose to his face. Tears welled up a little. Trying to hold back the tears so he wouldn’t cry made it feel like snot would start flowing, so he sniffed hard. Nothing around him entered his vision anyway, so he clutched his phone tightly, bowed his head, and sniffled.

Then, at that moment, someone snatched the phone from Jiwoon’s hand, grabbed his arm, and yanked him to his feet. And then, in a loud voice, that person called out to stop the professor who was just about to leave the lecture hall.

“Professor, wait a moment!”

The professor stopped walking with the book still in hand, and Jiwoon stood there awkwardly, turning his head with a dazed expression. What he saw was 1129’s face—dressed casually and wearing a cap just like him.

To the teasing tone in 1129’s voice, Jiwoon made a sullen expression. Was this really the time to be distinguishing between productive and unproductive matters? What 1129 said wasn’t entirely nonsense, but the fact that he ultimately had to leave the solution to him remained unchanged. There was no way of knowing how that lunatic would act from now on.

If it were 1129, he might very well say something brazen like “Yeah, it’s my place—so what’s the problem?” in that exact way. In a sense, because he was an angel, the matter had nothing to do with him at all. If he just stopped having sex, everything would be resolved… Jiwoon bit his lower lip hard the moment that thought reached him.

That was right. If he simply stopped doing that kind of act, it would end there. So why hadn’t that thought flashed into his mind first? Thinking that way made shame surge in again. The fact that he ended up having sex with 1129 was all because of his own complaints. Among the countless complaints Jiwoon had sent, 1129 had said that this was the thing he could resolve the fastest, and so he began a relationship with him.

In a way, everything had started from his own stubbornness. But when he thought about not being able to have a relationship with him, he couldn’t shake off a certain sense of regret. It wasn’t to the extent of feeling like he would die if he couldn’t mix bodies with 1129, but even aside from that kind of reason, he still wanted to. But why did he feel that way?

Why had 1129 withdrawn his hand right before they had sex that day? Why had he said that was the best option? The worries he had pushed to the back of his mind began to swell up and devour his head. They were the kind of thoughts that only a sex addict would have. Because of that, Jiwoon gave up thinking any further. Yeah, if he just doesn’t do it, that’s the end of it. He had once cried out that he wanted to try those things before he died, but in the end, hadn’t he already tried them all?

“Th-those people are probably gathered here because of that side anyway, not because of me.”

“…Is that really the case?”

1129 spoke as if teasing Jiwoon even though he knew nothing, and Jiwoon strode past 1129 toward them as if to prove it. All he had to do was pass through that group and exit through the back door. But the closer he got to the crowd, the more violently his heart began to pound.

The pouring gazes felt far too burdensome. Unconsciously, Jiwoon bowed his head deeply. The gazes whose intentions he couldn’t understand pierced his entire body like arrows, and Jiwoon trembled all over from nothing more than those looks. His hand gripping the bag was clenched with full strength. But 1129 was behind him, and the crowd blocked the front, leaving him truly trapped with nowhere to advance or retreat.

‘Seriously, why are they all gathered here.’

Jiwoon chewed his lower lip hard while laboriously moving his feet that refused to separate from the ground one after the other. The short distance of just a few steps felt maddeningly long. Should he just run? Should he shove everyone aside and escape? He didn’t know the reason, but he also didn’t want to talk to them and figure out what it was. Soon the gap closed, and one person in the group cautiously reached a hand toward Jiwoon.

And at that moment, someone wrapped an arm around Jiwoon’s shoulder, pulled him close, and spoke. It was 1129, who had been silently watching Jiwoon from behind.

“What? Got something to say?”

1129 looked down at them with rather cold eyes. When a tall, solidly built man spoke in a low voice like that, the curious gazes that had been watching Jiwoon and 1129 changed in an instant. Jiwoon didn’t have the courage to meet their eyes, so he completely turned his head away. But then he heard 1129’s dumbfounded laugh from the person holding his back, and he looked at 1129 with a slightly dazed expression.

“Oh my god, even the voice is completely insane…!”

At the voice that sounded as if it were soaked in emotion, Jiwoon unconsciously stared at the crowd in front of him as though entranced. He could see them looking back and forth between him and 1129 with faces flushed red. Seeing that, Jiwoon went beyond being stunned—he became utterly bewildered. They looked as if they had found a treasure; every single one of them had their hands clasped together and were pouring out incomprehensible words. They looked exactly like fanatics.

“Um, Sunbae, may I ask which department you’re in?”

One person asked 1129 with eyes sparkling brightly, but 1129 merely made an incredulous expression and didn’t answer. Far from being displeased, they simply switched targets and now looked at Jiwoon. Their expressions seemed to say “Please answer in his place,” but the moment Jiwoon saw those eyes he unconsciously hiccupped.

“I don’t know if you heard this from Hanbyeol, but we’re all from the same past, right? I’m class of ’22, and all the male Sunbaes here are class of ’20. There are people in your year too, and even freshmen, but they all said they don’t really know you.”

“…”

“Myeong Jiwoon, class of ’23, right?”

A female Sunbae asked in a gentle voice, and Jiwoon covered his hiccupping mouth with the back of his hand and nodded.

“We’re not weird people—we’re members of the department club. Have you ever heard of Film?”

“…”

“Anyway, we’re holding a club showcase at the end of the semester, and we’re shooting a short film to present then? We’re looking for an actor to appear in it…”

The members of the Film club said this while taking one step after another toward Jiwoon, and Jiwoon, unable to keep stepping backward, ended up completely hiding behind 1129. Once hidden behind the large body, Jiwoon’s figure was barely visible at all. 1129 let out a sigh at the sight of Jiwoon peeking out with only his eyes showing from behind him and said,

“We’re not trying to interrupt, but this guy has trouble talking to people.”

“What does that…”

“He has social phobia.”

“…”

“If you all crowd around and stare at him like that, he’ll die.”

It was an extreme way of putting it, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. The hand Jiwoon had wrapped around 1129’s wrist was shaking violently. If this continued, it wouldn’t be strange if he fainted.

“He stutters when he talks. He probably can’t even read lines.”

“I heard he’s shy around strangers… but Hanbyeol said—”

“How is Im Hanbyeol supposed to go around telling people that this guy stutters because he has social phobia?”

That was true as well. Since it was something Jiwoon might not want revealed, from Hanbyeol’s perspective he couldn’t go spilling every little detail about Jiwoon’s condition. But when they thought about it that way, one question arose among the club members. A strange look that said, ‘Then what are you that you can rattle off those details so casually?’

As if he had read the implication in those gazes, 1129 smoothly rattled off a lie without even batting an eye.

“I’m not a student at this school—I’m his cousin. I live abroad and came to Korea for a short while, so I’m staying at his place.”

“Ah.”

They nodded as if they understood, one after another, and Jiwoon, watching that scene from behind 1129, swallowed dryly. Honestly, he really was on the verge of passing out. If it were just one or two people talking to him, he might somehow manage, but—no, honestly even one or two was hard. The only people he could still properly converse with, even if he stuttered a bit, were Hanbyeol and 1129 at most.

“Y-you don’t have to say lines!”

One of the members, who had been looking at each other with expressions of “Then what do we do,” suddenly shouted as if he had realized something. At that, everyone’s attention turned toward that male student, and only then was Jiwoon finally able to escape the persistent gazes and let out a breath of relief.