Chapter Text
Apartment 456, Seocho-gu, Seoul, South Korea – June 8th, 2021:
Seong Gi-hun was happy. At least that is what he would say if you asked him. He had a job he liked, great friends, and most of all, children he loved more than anything in the world. He earned a good living, could afford to eat whatever he wanted, to treat himself whenever he wanted and most of all he could give his children whatever they wanted. If they craved a whole cake then they would be able to eat one. If they wanted to go to a particular amusement park or a concert of their choice then they would go. And if they each wanted a cat then they would get one too.
Gi-hun loved his children like he had never loved anything or anyone before and he only asked for them to be happy, even if it meant losing his own happiness. That is why he had no free time and spent most of his day working. In a twenty-four-hour day, he spent about thirteen hours working, sleeping only for five hours a night, considering that it was the only rest he allowed himself. The remaining six hours he spent cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the necessary needs of his children (and the cats) without ever stopping.
This lifestyle was certainly difficult to bear, however, as long as his son and daughter lacked nothing, that was all that mattered. Gi-hun was not blind, he knew perfectly well that he was not a very present father. He rarely played with his children, saw them only one hour in the morning and two hours at most in the evening even on the weekend because he never stopped working, seven days a week. Nevertheless, he believed that his children understood him and did not hold it against him, accepting his absence while never forgetting his unconditional love for them.
The three of them now lived in Seocho-gu, a fairly wealthy area of Seoul close to Gi-hun’s workplace, namely Gangnam-gu, the business district. As an Advertising Manager at a major South Korean automobile company, Gi-hun certainly earned a good salary. As a result, his family could have a decent standard of living thanks to his salary of around 120,000,000 won per year, not counting bonuses. He thus earned well over double the salary of an average employee in South Korea. Of course, he could certainly have received an even higher paycheck, but let’s just say that life had decided otherwise.
In short, despite complications, and a job that left him no time for respite, Gi-hun considered himself happy and had no reason to complain as long as he could see his children’s faces lit up with a big smile. Nothing mattered to him more than that especially since he had fought so hard to get sole custody of his children. Well that was a story for another day. His children were happy, at least that's what he thought, therefore he was too...or almost.
“–Happy birthday to you Ga-yeong..! Happy birthday to you!” Gi-hun was brought out of his thoughts by hearing the applause around him so he clapped his hands too, following the movement. He saw his daughter smile a big time before inhaling and blowing out the candles on her nice cake. Her father didn't hesitate and took many pictures with his phone while the other guests did the same. There weren't many of them, but they didn't need to be more, only the family (at least what Gi-hun considered as such) was present and that was fine.
Gi-hun looked at his family's faces for a moment, soaking up their joyful expressions. It was in moments like these that he remembered how he hadn't been as happy as he had thought before he had his children. They represented who he was today, his flesh, his blood, his heart, his soul. It hadn't been easy to get to where he was now, and that's why he cherished all these moments as if they were his last. He considered that he knew happiness because, after all the challenges he had faced, it couldn't be less than that.
Once Ga-yeong's wish was made, Gi-hun cut the strawberry cake into six pieces before sharing those among them. The little girl had already opened her tenth birthday presents, under the tender gaze of her family and she had once again been very spoiled (especially by her father). After enjoying the cake, Gi-hun stood up to clear the dishes away but was forced to give up when the woman he considered his second mother told him to let her do it. Instead, he headed to the apartment balcony, discreetly taking out a cigarette that he quickly lit before bringing the tip to his lips, inhaling the familiar scent of the nicotine.
He was quickly joined by his colleague and childhood best friend, Cho Sang-woo, who did the same, lighting his own cigarette, and leaving a good meter of distance between them. The younger took his time before deigning to speak, his gaze falling on his friend, analyzing him for a moment. Gi-hun wore casual and elegant beige pants with a plain white t-shirt over it. His hair had been spared from gel and moved slowly to the gentle rhythm of the wind, a large brown lock falling in front of most of his forehead.
It was one of the rare times that Sang-woo had the opportunity to see Gi-hun so relaxed, without his eternally well-dressed suit and his hair styled to make him look much more professional. He seemed as troubled as peaceful in his demeanor which made the CFO raise an eyebrow.
“Is there something bothering you?” Sang-woo asked, his gaze shifting to the vast expanse of the capital city in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gi-hun nod negatively as he dragged on his cigarette, letting a halo of smoke escape from his mouth, and Sang-woo’s eyes dropping to the older man’s lips for a split second before he looked away.
“So why are you here instead of enjoying your daughter’s birthday?” Gi-hun snapped his head towards his friend, taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed. Sang-woo simply placed one arm on the balcony railing, positioning himself in front of Gi-hun while the latter had both forearms resting on it, his back facing the inside of the apartment.
“Am I not allowed to get some air for a moment?” The father retorted, not amused by the younger man’s remark. Sang-woo narrowed his eyes.
“I didn’t say otherwise. But I can see that your smile is fake. So?" Gi-hun blew out a frustrated breath, before taking another drag on his cigarette, his friend following his gesture. The older one seemed quite upset, which surprised Sang-woo a little. Years ago, he was able to read (like anyone else) Gi-hun like an open book. All his emotions were perfectly transcribed on his face. However, over the years, Gi-hun had managed to build a shell, especially following his divorce, and Sang-woo had lost his ability to understand him with a simple glance. At least, until today. He felt like he was seeing his friend from twenty years ago again.
A scream made them jump, both turning abruptly towards the source of the noise which was none other than Seong Ga-yeong, the girl of the day, in the arms of her big sister, Seong Sae-byeok, who did not hesitate to tickle her, pushing the little girl to struggle under the laughter of their brother Seong Cheol and the exasperated but amused gaze of Sang-woo's mother, Cho Ji-hyun. The father himself let out a light laugh, shaking his head as if annoyed although it was nothing of the sort. Then he turned to Sang-woo, imitating his position.
“Have you never wanted to share your life with someone? All those good and bad moments you’ve lived...Have you never wondered what it’d be like to share them with someone you love and who loves you back?” Gi-hun's thoughts surprised the businessman. If he had expected this...As far back as he could remember, Sang-woo had never shared this feeling. Maybe it was because his standards were too high or because he was waiting for the right person, at the very least, he had never shared his life with anyone. And he had never wanted to despite all those who built their family life around him including Gi-hun...until he divorced.
If he remembered correctly, Gi-hun had officially divorced in 2015, six years ago, for various reasons including the fact that he was a workaholic. His wife had not supported seeing him so little and the fact that he hardly ever took care of their daughter. At least, that was the version she had given to the court to obtain custody of her daughter. But with her being a stay-at-home mom and with Gi-hun being the one who was doing the best financially, after a tough battle, he had been the one to win custody. It had been a difficult time psychologically for the older man who had completely immersed himself in work while shutting down the world around him.
Since then, from what Sang-woo knew, his friend had not gotten close to anyone and had never found love again. If he gave the impression of being a fulfilled family man, the reality was obviously very different.
“You haven’t tried dating sites?” Sang-woo asked in a tone that was meant to be detached. Gi-hun pursed his lips before letting out a bitter laugh.
“The problem is that I don’t have time for that. The more I see my age increase, the more I realize that time is moving on and that I have no one to live with. The day Cheol and Ga-yeong leave, I'll be all by myself. And I must admit that it scares me because I don't know what it's like to live alone anymore. And then I wonder if the children don't need someone other than me to take care of them..." Sang-woo nodded slowly, listening carefully to his childhood best friend's words.
"So you'd like to find someone so you don't feel alone, pinning it down to an almost non-existent need to have another parental figure for your children?" Gi-hun's eyes widened, understanding how his words could come across as.
"No! No, absolutely not! Well... Maybe yes, but not only that. Argh! You're going to make fun of me..." He declared, avoiding looking Sang-woo in the face. Only when he looked up did he see his friend with a deadpan expression before he raised an eyebrow again. “Okay, okay...It’s just that...I never knew what a real passionate relationship looks like. What I had with Eun-ji was good. But it was more of a convenient relationship than anything else. When we met, I was in my thirties, she was getting closer to that age, and...it seemed obvious to us. Except that there was never any passion. Love yes, after a while but...I talk too much don’t I?”
Sang-woo’s face was still expressionless, which caused Gi-hun to lightly push him with one hand, laughing nervously.
“Seriously, Sang-woo-ah, can’t you say something?” His friend finally exhaled long and heavily before shaking his head as if he had just heard the stupidest thing on earth. Which was never too far from the truth when it came to Gi-hun.
“So... you want to find someone because you feel lonely and because you would like to live a relationship like in those romantic movies for the first time except that you don’t have time to go out because you spend your time working? Am I right?” He said in one go as if he was exposing a completely ridiculous idea.
“When you put it like that...do you think I’m having a midlife crisis?” Gi-hun asked, worried. Sang-woo gave him a dumbfounded look.
“Hyung...You’re forty-six.”
“So what?! I’m almost fifty! I’m n–” Gi-hun was interrupted by a slightly violent slap on his shoulder that immediately became repetitive. Surprised, he turned back to Ji-hyun.
“Ya! What did I tell you about smoking?! Give that up immediately!” Sang-woo’s mother fumed as they rushed to drop their cigarette butts and crush them on the ground. She didn’t stop hitting them though as they tried to protect themselves while apologizing. Eventually, she stopped before putting her hands on her hips. “And don’t let me catch you again!” Then her gaze softened as it landed on Gi-hun. “I heard your conversation. Gi-hun, don’t worry too much about it. While I agree that the children could use another parental figure, all good things come to those who wait. Not only are you a handsome man, but you're also financially comfortable, most women—” She cut herself off for a moment, eyeing Gi-hun and her son. “—and even men would line up for you.” She concluded.
The father scratched the back of his head for a moment, embarrassed before nodding.
“Although it would be better to find a mother figure rather than another father figure despite your...inclinations.” Gi-hun nodded very slowly, as he felt himself blushing heavily. Due to the mistake of one of his best friends several years ago, everyone around him now knew that he also had a penchant for men. Although he had admitted it to himself quite early in his life, he had obviously always hidden it due to the strong intolerance towards homosexuality in South Korea.
He still felt lucky to have had a fairly tolerant entourage with the exception of his ex-wife who couldn't stand that revelation and his late mother who didn't want to hear about that for even a second. Ji-hyun had also had a hard time, only swearing by the traditional family but she had ended up accepting this side of Gi-hun, understanding that he wasn't different despite it all. And he could only thank her for that.
Gi-hun felt an object hit his temple before falling to the ground which drew his attention to his eldest daughter, Sae-byeok, who was eyeing him with her eternal impenetrable air. He leaned over to pick up the felt pen she had thrown with formidable precision, listening to her speak.
"Hey old man, instead of moping about your love life, come help Ga-yeong with her drawing." The father laughed for a moment before apologizing to Ji-hyun and Sang-woo and then walking to his three children. As soon as he saw them together, his heart immeasurably swelled in the right way and he thought of only one thing: yes he was happy. His children were healthy and now had a good life, he couldn't ask for anything more.
He had never lived an exciting love story and he probably never would. With his work, he probably wouldn't find the time to develop a relationship with anyone but that didn't matter. If he had to spend the rest of his life alone, he would do it happily in spite of his fear, as long as his family lived peacefully. At forty-six years old, it was useless to hope to find true love like in those rom-coms, and imagining an intense and passionate relationship would inexorably lead him to meet his end. Of that, he was convinced.
Everything he believed in was destroyed the day his neighboring apartment, number 457, which had been empty for months, was filled with cardboard boxes.