NHL 39

“I heard from Ivanna that people getting promoted have already been notified.”

Ivanna was a colleague from the neighboring team who was similar to Joeon in both age and time of joining the company. If she knew that those to be promoted had already been notified, it was practically the same as saying that the person being promoted was Ivanna herself. While there was no doubt that she was a smart and capable employee, possessing certifications that Joeon lacked, it was inevitable for Joeon to feel like he was being left behind.

“But they haven’t even done the personnel evaluations yet?”

“What meaning does a personnel evaluation have in our company? Everything moves through politics, my friend. How many years have you been here this year?”

“Three years.”

As Joeon hesitated with a somewhat discouraged demeanor, Tyler nodded as if he understood.

“Seeing as they are hiring for a senior position, to speak coldly, it doesn’t look like Peter has any intention of bumping you up to senior this time, does it? John, I’m saying this because I think I’ve watched you for a long time, but our company isn’t a place to work for a long time. The salary is low compared to the industry, and the benefits aren’t much, either. You are definitely being undervalued. Someone as smart as you needs to be treated properly.”

“…Are you saying I should switch jobs?”

“I’m saying you should at least consider it. You might find a place that recognizes your true worth. Never close off the possibilities.”

As Joeon slumped, feeling a sense of betrayal and disappointment toward his superior, who hadn’t given him even a word of warning, Tyler patted his shoulder as if to comfort him.

Joeon knew better than anyone that the treatment he was receiving now wasn’t particularly great. Originally, it wasn’t a high-paying profession, and because he wanted to settle down stably as soon as possible, he had accepted the job offer immediately without negotiating or weighing things, despite knowing the salary was lower than the industry average. At that time, Joeon was more desperate for stability than anyone else. It was because he wanted to put down roots somewhere.

“Whenever I don’t feel like working, I always fix up my resume. This is a secret, but I’ve actually had a few interviews, too. I didn’t move because I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the conditions. Looking at my friends, pay has gone up a lot these days, so I’ve seen some who switched jobs with their salary nearly doubled.”

“Doubled?”

“Yeah. It might not be exactly double, but it’s just about that. Since you’ve built up your career, too. To raise your salary, you have to switch jobs, right?”

Listening to Tyler, Joeon was also tempted. As he said, switching jobs is the absolute answer to raising one’s salary. There is no one who recognizes you just for firmly holding onto one spot. Promotion or salary increases required active self-promotion to take priority. Just as the saying goes that it is the age of self-PR, it is a world where it is difficult to be recognized if you don’t prove your own value.

People who are introverted like Joeon were passive about exhibiting the achievements they had made, and if that happened, they were bound to fall one step behind in networking or having their abilities recognized. If you stay still and quiet like that, you are naturally pushed out of the competition.

“If you want to drink even a beer at the sports pub in front of the Real Sports Arena, tell me. Let’s just sneak out.”

“I have a lot of work to do today….”

Tyler shrugged his shoulders as if there was no help for it and moved away. It was a back view that looked cool, but seeing his disappointed face, it seemed it was rather him who was itching to leave. It seemed he had thought of escaping by using Joeon’s intentions as an excuse, but there was no way. To avoid working the weekend, Joeon had no choice but to turn his gaze back to the computer.

Click, clack-clack, click.

Joeon, who had been meaninglessly touching the keyboard with his fingertips, finally opened a file after much deliberation.

The document with his name prominently placed at the top, a short self-introduction, keywords, and his career history lined up was Joeon’s resume. Joeon looked around the quiet office and soon picked up the pace and began his work.

🏒🥅

Along the wall, which featured glass windows instead of opaque concrete, the blue lighting of the tower was reflected exactly as it was. The building, with lights out here and there as if it had missing teeth, like the smiles of veteran hockey players, was the first scenery to welcome Joeon, who had just finished his overtime and stepped out.

Tyler, the person who had sparked the fire, had already left work, and Joeon, who had wasted his time fixing an irrelevant resume after being swayed by his words for no reason, was able to breathe in the night air only after it had become completely dark.

Having finally shaken off the fatigue that had been pressing down on his shoulders all day with the night air, he turned his back on the direction toward the subway station and turned his head toward an unexpected place.

His gaze reached the stadium where the blue sign was shining. The lights were still fully lit. The phone he had put in his coat pocket heavily signaled its presence.

He kept being bothered by a message he had discovered belatedly while packing his bags to leave the office, where no one else was left.

「Are you busy?」

It was a light and short question, so much so that it was difficult to read the sender’s emotions. Presuming that there was no way Dylan could have been fiddling with his phone in the middle of a game, it was clearly a message sent during the intermission.

His shoes, which had been turned at an angle toward the direction of the station, eventually turned the other way, and he stepped forward with steady paces. However, instead of the lobby of the empty arena, he stepped into the entrance of Real Sports.

The interior of the pub, crowded with customers, was an atmosphere where his ears were completely blocked by music, people’s voices, and the occasional cheers. The heavy, stuffy air mixed with the warmth pressed down on his body. The server was moving busily without a moment to catch his breath, and Joeon, who had not been paid any attention, quietly grabbed a seat at the empty bar. It was a seat where the screen was right in front of him.

“One Creemore Lager, please.”

When he ordered from the bartender who had grown a stylish beard, he nodded and immediately poured a beer with skilled hands and handed it over. Even while burying his lips in the layer of foam filling the top, his eyes were fixed on the screen, where white ice occupied more than half of the display.

Dylan’s team, wearing dark blue uniforms, and the opposing team’s players, wearing white tops and red pants, were preparing for a face-off, waiting for the referee’s puck drop, but Joeon couldn’t tell at all if Dylan was among that group of players.

Fortunately, thanks to the camera showing the bench, he was able to know his location in no time. Even though he knew that he was a player who acted heavy, to the point of not showing a smile during the game unless he scored, seeing his indifferent face, which didn’t hold any emotion, somehow even made Joeon’s mood worsen.

The opposing team’s players would probably feel emotions far worse than that. A guy who looks like a sculpture, has great skills, and even has an aura. The important thing is that if he acts heavy like that, you end up getting swept up in his pace and being overwhelmed before you know it.

During the last ten days he hadn’t seen Dylan, he had thought he had become accustomed to seeing that indifferent-looking face quite a lot, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Seeing a face that used to smile at him so easily now wearing such a serious expression, his mood was inexplicably unpleasant.

A gulp of fizzy beer went down his throat coolly. Joeon’s face, as he set the glass, with white foam still sloshing around, down on a coaster and rubbed his forehead with his palm before slowly sweeping down his cheek, was filled with embarrassment. An unconscious emotion he didn’t want to notice was making him confused, as if it were about to reveal its presence, yet not quite. Joeon watched the screen with his chin resting on his hand.

A person’s heart has a side like a tree frog; when told not to think about something, they keep thinking about it, and when told not to be conscious of something, they become even more conscious of it. And Joeon recalled Dylan’s smile, which shone dazzlingly even in the faint light of winter. Having dared to see that right in front of his nose, there was no way he would be satisfied with that murderous expression used for games. It was even more special because he knew it was a smile that was stingy despite looking like it was given freely. It wouldn’t be a tenderness that anyone could experience.

Although Dylan is still kind to him, that, too, is only temporary. There will come a day when he, too, will have to become accustomed to that indifferent gaze reflected on the screen. I wonder when that will be.

He hadn’t even drunk enough alcohol to get tipsy, but his cheeks grew hot. The lips that had swallowed the drink down contained a slowly loosening smile. The emotion underlying it was close to absurdity.

To think I’d be this bothered just because of a few kisses. No, of course I did do a bit more than that, though….